#[ the ‘you carry yourself with the confidence of a much taller man’ was directed at jace fs ]

[worthyheir]

If they had a podcast in the modern au. @aeghon @lvscinvs @vesperzyr @neithergodsnormen

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter 31 - Alternate View. Okatsu and Mitsunari have only one night left before she returns to the future. So why is Mitsunari wasting time talking with… Shingen? 

Mitsunari x OC; Nobunaga x Mai

Previous Chapter

Logline -  In order to protect a political alliance, Katusko and Mitsunari must pretend an engagement. But this “all business” arrangement is threatened by a coup against Nobunaga… and by feelings.

From the Military Notes of Ishida Mitsunari…

I understand the basic concept of alternative timelines … however, what I do not know if there was, at some point, only one Katsu, and the splitting of our timeline created several, or, if these multiple timelines have always existed with only minor differences. If I get a moment, I will ask this Sasuke what he believes.

A more pressing concern – the other timeline’s Okatsu (or, Katsu as she preferred to be called) is in love with Lord Shingen. Does that mean that my Okatsu is destined for this timeline’s Lord Shingen?

I am torn. I wish her to be happy. But the thought of her with him is more painful than anything I have ever experienced before.

As it happened, Sasuke and Toshiie arrived at the wormhole site before we did… and they had a third person with them. Even at a distance, I recognized the taller figure poking at the fire as the man I had just met at Aki’s. Lord Shingen. “Another one?”

I heard a soft sigh from Mitsunari’s direction. “While it was no strain to meet two additional Okatsus, I could have lived happily without encountering two Takeda Shingens.”

The Shingen at Aki’s had seemed pleasant enough –  he had also been thoroughly focused on Katsu. But of course, he was an enemy of the Oda, and as such, Mitsunari’s history with him was probably not as benign.

Once Mitsunari and I got closer to the other group, I realized that this Shingen was … not as healthy as the one we met earlier. He was thinner, and his skin had a yellowish cast to it. It appeared he was Sasuke’s sick friend that Toshiie had gone to treat.

All three of them stood up as Mitsunari and I approached. Sasuke again greeted us in that overly formal way he had. “Okatsu, Mitusunari - you made excellent time. I didn’t expect you until tonight.”

“Oh well. We sort of took a shortcut.” I’d have to tell Sasuke the rest later.

Lord Shingen looked at me and smiled. Ok. That is a weapon right there – though his smile didn’t have Mitsunari’s sweetness, it carried a metric ton of charisma. “Hello Angel. The future is looking brighter already. To meet such a dazzling creature as yourself is evidence that fortune is smiling upon me today.”

Whoa.

Dude.

Dial. It. Down.

Behind me, I sensed Mitsunari bristle like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on. Lord Shingen looked past me to Mitsunari, then said in a much less (much much less) friendly tone of voice, “Ishida Mitsunari.” His confident demeanor didn’t change, though the warning behind the words was somewhat mitigated by a wheezing cough.

Mitsunari saw the cool tone and raised it with a barely polite bow. It wasn’t icy. Mitsunari didn’t do icy. But it held none of his normal friendliness. “Lord Shingen. I had never expected to see you outside of a battlefield.”

“I intend for you to get that opportunity as well.” He glanced at Toshiie. Yup that was a consulting my doctor glance.

“I look forward to that.” And perhaps Mitsunari was. As obsessed with military theory as he was, I figured he would be interested in turning theory to practice. “However, at the moment, you are standing far too close to Lady Okatsu.”

“Ah. I see now.” Shingen’s laugh was interrupted by that terrible cough. “’Lady’ Okatsu? You are the mysterious Oda Princess who accompanied his entourage to Genba?”

How the hell did he know that?

Mitsunari stepped closer to me and said quietly into my ear, “Lord Shingen’s spy network rivals Mitsuhide’s.”

“It’s better than Mitsuhide’s.” So, apparently, is Lord Shingen’s hearing.

Worried that Mitsunari and Lord Shingen were about to get sidetracked into a discussion, I stepped in to ask Sasuke, “What time tomorrow?”

“Wormhole? Er, late morning. Or early afternoon. Theoretically.” He reached into his kimono and pulled out a bundle of papers with long sets of computations. “I confirmed these numbers before Toshiie and I left Kyoto, but over the past week, my observations have revealed contradictory information.”

The past week? As in the week that three Katsukos, another Shingen and another Sasuke were in that strange waystation? Yeah, we really needed to talk. I looked at Lord Shingen and wondered how much Sasuke had told him about time travel. Obviously, he wouldn’t be here if he weren’t aware of the concept. “Are you bringing Lord Shingen to the future as well?”

“Hopefully,” Toshiie said, just as Lord Shingen replied, “I have yet to be convinced that the healers in your future will be able to cure me. The idea continues to be a point of discussion.”

“It’s true that I can’t guarantee success.” Toshiie inclined his head toward Lord Shingen. “But I would know more after running some tests.” Under his breath he mumbled something inaudible, but knowing my brother, he was likely indulging in more Dr. McCoy style disparagement of Sengoku era-medicine.

“I have not made a final decision on the matter. It’s difficult to agree to this journey when the people of Kai are homeless, and our lands are overrun by Nobunaga’s brutes.” Mitsunari bristled again (IMO rightfully so – I wouldn’t have characterized any of Nobunaga’s inner circle that way – some of them were annoying, nosy, and micromanaging… but not brutish) while Lord Shingen paused to catch his breath. “If there is no cure to be found, I will have wasted my final months chasing a dream, rather than on the battlefield with my people.”

The Lord Shingen that Mitsunari and I met earlier today had been to the future – and he seemed much healthier than this one. While I wasn’t sure about the rules of time travel when it came to revealing the future, it would also be medically unethical to keep such information from him. Besides, I wouldn’t be revealing this timeline’s future – I was revealing another timeline’s past. Right? “Um, I think it worked.”

“Worked?” Sasuke picked up on the past tense, as I had intended him to do.

“It’s… a long story – but it also might explain why your observations gone haywire.” A very long story, and I didn’t want to continue to stand around in a circle telling it – especially when there appeared to be a bowl of stew of some kind sitting on a tripod over the fire. Technically, Mitsunari and I hadn’t eaten in a week.

Proving that he at least had the observational skills of a spymaster, Lord Shingen herded us all toward the fire. “This appears to be a tale best told with a meal… and…” he opened a basket which contained an assortment of pastry, “of course, sweets.” He sat down, then patted the space next to him. “Come sit by me, Angel, and tell me more.”

“Shingen, do I have to remind you that Katsuko is my sister?” Toshiie sat himself down in the space that Shingen had indicated.

“We can’t take him anywhere.” Sasuke magically produced two extra bowls from his Mary Poppinsesque ninja gear. Once Mitsunari and I had performed our traditional exchange of carrots for mushrooms, we all settled down to eat.

I’m not an idiot. I sat next to Mitsunari, as far away from Lord Shi- The Warlord from the Brothel! That was where I had seen him before. Huh. Yeah. Staying far away from him. I don’t know how Katsu managed to tame that one in her timeline, but I knew a heartbreaker when I saw one. Belatedly, I realized I had been staring at him since I sat down. He clearly realized that too, and he smiled and winked at me.

Oof. I scooted closer to Mitsunari. “Aki disappeared – right after you two left for Kasugayama.” I again summed up what happened at the tower. “Mitsunari and I went looking for him today. Or, well, last week, I guess.” I shook my head. I was confusing myself, as well as everyone else.

Mitsunari took over for me. “What Okatsu means is that for us, our search has lasted a day, but we spent the afternoon in a place where time has no meaning. When we left, we discovered a week had passed.”

“Time has no meaning? Holy Crap on a cracker!” Sasuke nearly spilled his dinner in his excitement, but used to flying crockery, I caught it before it spilled. Sasuke didn’t even notice. “Where is this place? Is there time for us to go there? Where does it lead? How do you -?”

He paused only when Lord Shingen held up his hand authoritatively. “Sasuke, rather than sending them various avenues, allow them to continue their story uninterrupted, until they complete it.”

Ok, I could now see how this one was also a spymaster. Toshiie was looking at him like he was a tasty treat…. Ooh, someone has a crush! But I figured his medical ethics would ensure he kept his hands off a patient.

Mitsunari explained about finding the rotating wall and the hidden room. “The room was nearly empty, aside from two trunks containing clothing that Okatsu recognized as Akihira’s. However, before we could investigate further, we were interrupted by two other people looking for Akihira.” He looked at Lord Shingen. “One of them was you.”

“Multiverses! I knew it!” Sasuke pumped his fist, then subsided at a quelling look from Lord Shingen.

“The other person… was me. Except, not-me. Anyway sir,” I directed my comment to Lord Shingen. “You, or rather he, was not at all ill – he appeared to be strong and healthy, and he did not have a cough or any problems breathing. He and Katsu said that they had travelled through a wormhole previously. Therefore, I figure that whatever disease you have is treatable.”

“Beauty and brains. Thank you, Angel. Yes, that does appear to be a logical conclusion.” Lord Shingen nodded, and a weight seemed to fall off his shoulders. Toshiie seemed to relax as well – so he hadn’t been completely confident that modern medicine could cure Lord Shingen.

“Two of you. My childhood would have been horrible with two Katsukos always getting me into trouble.” Toshiie stuck his tongue out at me. I threw a twig back at him. And since I have fantastic aim, it thwapped him right in the forehead.

Mitsunari got our story back on track. “Katsu mentioned having been in the wrong timeline prior to this – however we were interrupted again. The second interruption was from you, Sasuke.”

Once again, Sasuke looked like he wanted to leap up and perform a tribal dance of joy, but he restrained himself to another first pump. “Was I with the other Lord Shingen and the other Katsu?”

I sighed. “Um. No. You were with a third Katsu.”

My comment prompted Sasuke to scramble for his notes. Before he could get too far off track, I hurried to finish the story, with Mitsunari jumping in to fill in details that I had forgotten or missed. “When we returned to this – timeline – a week had passed. Although neither Okatsu nor I felt hungry or tired.”

“Interesting that you were able to exist in the same space as the other Katsus.” Sasuke pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “In some multiverse theory, it’s impossible for the alternates to meet without causing damage to the fabric of reality.”

“Alternates? I’m already weirded out enough without slapping a sci-fi label on it.” ‘Other-Katsu’ was clunky enough.

“You aren’t twins or clones, and ‘duplicates’ seemed even worse.” Sasuke waved that all away. “However, it might be a good idea for your brother to take your vital signs.”

I couldn’t see where that would yield any interesting data, but it seemed like a harmless idea, so I shrugged and agreed.

Sasuke had wanted to hover over the “medical exam” and continue to quiz me about the room outside of time, but in the end decided it would be better to examine the sky for updated wormhole data.

“Did the stethoscope or the cuffs freak anyone out – ow!” I glared at Toshiie when he inflated the blood pressure cuff too tightly.

“Not at all. In fact, Shingen wanted to take the stethoscope apart to see how it worked – I think he wanted to Macguyver a version of it that could be used in spying.” We looked over at where Shingen and Mitsunari were having what appeared to be an actual friendly conversation. Their mutual interest in tactics and strategy had allowed them to temporarily put aside their differences.

“Interesting. Your pulse just shot up. Katsuko, don’t go there. Shingen is a brilliant man, but he goes through women like butter.” Toshiie frowned and poked through his medical bag of anachronisms.

“Mixed metaphors much? I think the saying is mmmmph.” Toshiie shoved a thermometer in my mouth.

“I said what I meant. Women melt as soon as he starts flirting with him. When he even looks at them.” He stuck some kind of probe thing in my ear. “And you just sent a hungry look his way.”

I hadn’t been looking at Lord Shingen.

As my mouth was still full of thermometer, I kept that to myself.

“Shingen plans to stay with Sasuke, but we’ll all probably spend a lot of time together. So, just… be careful. You and Sasuke have spent years here, and Lord Shingen may gravitate to you because you’re a bridge to both eras… Lean forward.” I obeyed as Toshiie listened to my lungs.

Toshiie continued to lecture me. “Have you thought about what you want to do with your life? You could go back and finish the physical therapy training.”

I resented the parental way he was treating me. Had he forgotten we were the same age? Maybe in his mind, I was still the teenager I had been when we were first separated, but I wasn’t, and in this era, I was much better equipped to take care of myself than he would be.

Although… what would I do in the future? I’d just spent seven years running and fighting and scouting. Maybe I could get a martial arts certification and teach? I mean… it appealed to me more than going back to college. Once again, I glanced at Mitsunari, who was still intently listening to Lord Shingen.

Toshiie pulled the thermometer out of my mouth and checked it. “Ok doofus, you are disgustingly healthy.”

“There is nothing disgusting about Okatsu.” Mitsunari, demonstrating that he could, on occasion follow more than once conversation simultaneously, piped up to defend me. “Okatsu, you are as… you are like… you are not disgusting.” His shoulders slumped.

“Mitsunari, it’s ok. This is just the way we talk to each other. I know Toshiie loves me. We like to tease each other sometimes.” I thought for a moment, then added, “Sort of how Ieyasu is – he sounds grumpy but deep down, you know he really likes you.” Deep deep down.

Still, for whatever reason, Mitsunari continued to look miserable, and I would have tried to reassure him further, but Sasuke’s ears had perked up at Ieyasu’s name and he plopped down down next to me.

“Ieyasu – that’s right, you got to spend time with him. I’m kind of a huge Ieyasu fanboy and I’d love to get your impression of him.” To be honest, Sasuke’s questions kind of faded in and out of my consciousness, because Mitsunari had once again embedded himself deeply into a conversation with Lord Shingen.

Even though I absently answered Sasuke’s questions, my mind was still on, as Kayten had called him, the cinnamon roll. This was our last chance to hang out before I returned home. It had been bad enough during the times Shohime had demanded his attention – I had never imagined I’d also have to compete with Lord Shingen!

By the time I went to bed, Mitsunari was still talking with Lord Shingen. Waiting around for him would be rather obvious, so I dug my blanket out of the bottom of my pack, and curled up on the ground.

I used to be able to sleep under the sky without any problem – in fact, I often preferred it to sleeping inside. But my years here unrolled inside my head, from Aki’s rescue of me, through the months of training, all of the times I had ridden across the …

Damn it.

What was I going to do about my horse? If things had gone to plan, I would have left her at Aki’s. But I hadn’t known the place would be deserted (and potentially protecting a hellmouth).

I couldn’t just leave her. Could she come through the wormhole with us? Sasuke, Toshiie, and Lord Shingen hadn’t brought horses with them, so probably not. Even if I could bring her, could I take care of her in modern Japan? Also probably not … I still wasn’t sure if I could take care of myself in modern Japan.

Eventually, I decided to ask Mitsunari to take her back to Azuchi – maybe she would make a good mount for Mai, once her own riding improved. Yes. I’d ask Mitsunari. If he ever stops talking to Lord Shingen.

Meanwhile, it might be nice to get some sleep, but though I could shut my eyes, I couldn’t turn off my buzzing thoughts. Face it, Katsuko, you can’t sleep because you’ve gotten used to Mitsunari’s presence nearby.

I resigned myself to lying awake until dawn, and once I’d accepted that, I rolled over on my side, rested my head on my arm, and watched Mitsunari and Shingen for a while. The firelight played off Mitsunari’s face, highlighting that intent expression. Whatever Lord Shingen was telling him, had inspired that ‘learning something fascinating’ look. I tried to burn that expression into my brain, so that I could take it out and savor it some lonely night in the future.

Sometime later, when I was half awake and half lost in a dream about being stomped on by a dinosaur (likely prompted by a rock that was lodged under my spine), I opened my eyes to see that Mitsunari had spread a blanket on the ground next to me. He seemed to be asleep, with one hand stretched toward mine. I let my hand drift closer to his, and then as if we were magnetized, our hands snapped together, and he gave mine a squeeze.

I looked to his face, he was awake too. He smiled at me, one of those smiles, the ones that could always calm me. I squeezed his hand back.

“Will you come back? At least to visit, if nothing else? Will you be able to do so?” He inched closer and rested his head on his other hand.

“If I can – I don’t know. Either way… you’ll take care of my horse, won’t you?” I didn’t want to believe that I would never see Mitsunari – oh, and everyone else – again. But it had taken seven years to find a way back to modern Japan. Maybe it would take another seven years to figure out how to return here. By that time, who knows what will have happened?

“I’ll take her back to Azuchi with me.” He let go of my hand and brushed my hair out of my eyes. “I will miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” I summoned a smile. “We’ll always have Genba.”

I felt a drop of water on my face. Great. Was I about to spoil a great goodbye line by crying?

BOOM!

Thunder crashed, sounding almost on top of us. Not tears then. Rain. Another drop hit my nose, and then as if the first two had just been the advance scouts, the sky dumped buckets on us.

In the mad scramble to get up and find shelter, I heard Toshiie yelling at Lord Shingen to put on his mino and try to stay out of the wet, then Sasuke scanned the heavens, as I realized that it was only dark because of the clouds and not because it was still night. “The wormhole’s materializing.”

Forget shelter. We hastily grabbed our things, as Sasuke barked out instructions to stay together.

In the distance, the wall of fog crept down the mountain, like a writhing avalanche.

“Mitsunari.” Sasuke gently patted his shoulder. “You need to stand back, unless you want to spend an indefinite amount of time in the future.” He bowed to him. “I have enjoyed knowing you.”

“Katsuko! Hurry!” Toshiie yanked on my arm.

“I’ll be there in a sec.” Trust Toshiie to pick this moment to be early for the first time in his life.

I turned and hugged Mitsunari. “Goodbye. You were the best fake fiancée I’ve ever had.”

He hung on tightly, his grip strong and unusually fierce. “It did not feel fake,” is what I thought he said, but it was raining so intensely that I was no longer sure.

I stepped out of his embrace and turned to follow Toshiie toward the future.

@lorei-writes @bestbryn @katriniac @lyds323 @briars7

[f1tasies]

the breeding kink pierre <33333

pierre dating a really powerful lawyer kinda woman, y'know the times ny headline maker kind... you both aren't that confident during the start of the relationship a bit insecure... as you spend more time together the insecurities go away... pierre being completely whipped talking about you all the time "you know my girlfriend wished me luck today... then talks about your achievements out of nowhere".. wanting to make his girlfriend his fiance.. imagine him filling you up slow morning s*x after a rather busy night and then showing you off around the paddock knowing that you are full of him... whispering to you reminding you of it, smirking when other guys try to flirt with you planning to put a ring on it... there's so much to say ahhh

That’s terribly sweet of you to say anon! And I completely agree with this… I mean, we already have the social media influencer girlfriend happening, high roller girlfriend needs to happen. I know this took a while, but that's because I really wanted to sex up the whole thing and make it fun. Here you go!

Highballer

Fluffiest smut I've ever written: 4 times LA Lawyer readers wishes Pierre good luck and the one time he wishes you.

1.

You’re a big-shot associate rising through the ranks at one of LA’s top law firms, mentored by a senior partner at the firm. Your boss specialized in corporate IP, and was assigned to oversee the agreement between Honda and Red Bull for engines– with this year being the first for their partnership.

You did what your boss told you to for the most part; so when he said you were going to Monaco, you nod and fetch your carry-on bag from your locker. He did tell you to always be prepared. He was impressed by your work, and when you arrive, he gives you some time off to see the race.

You watch from the Sponsor’s tent, inside the paddock– close to all the real action. It was nice to see the mechanics and engineers pushing around things and screaming at each other; it reminded you of your mom’s garage back home.

“Lovely to watch, eh?” A man pops up beside you, striking up conversation.

“Definitely. I’ve been around cars my whole life but this?” You wave your hands, gesturing at the scene in front of you. “Nothing compares, really.”

“Even after all this time, it still feels like a dream,” he nods. You take a quick peek at him – not long enough to let him know you were checking him out. Your mentor made you practice observing people, situations, surroundings. ‘You’ll have the edge over everyone,’ you hear his words in your mind.

The man talking to you was slightly taller than average – and of a very athletic build. He had light hair with dark roots, definitely not a natural blonde, but it suited him. For some reason, he felt familiar.

“Oh? You work here?” you ask him, wondering if he was a race engineer or something. He’d have to be very talented for his age if he was.

He raises an eyebrow, but smiles widely. “Err– something like that.”

“Which team?” you press on, curious.

“Red Bull. I got a promotion.” He puts on his cap backwards. You want to roll your eyes, but manage to control yourself.

“Congratulations,” you smile pleasantly. “Must be exciting, you know? Traveling around the world, meeting new people–”

“Staying away from home, having to constantly adjust your sleep schedule, risking your–” he lists off of his fingers.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you defend yourself. “It’s just– my work is mostly sitting in a cubicle attending to my boss’s every whim. This seems like paradise compared to that.”

“When you love what you do, it does feel like paradise, no?” He grins. “Sticking it out through the hard parts makes you appreciate the highs.”

He was very wise, you decide. You want to say something but someone from the Red Bull garage interrupts you.

“Pierre!”

The man whips his head in the direction of Christian Horner’s voice. “They’re waiting for you!”

“This is me,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’d love to see you around.”

“Maybe you can score me some tickets next race,” you whisper conspiratorially.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he promises jokingly.

“Thanks mate, all the best!” you wish him and watch quietly as he walks away. You turn around, only to see a giant poster of the man you were just talking too.

You wanted to slap yourself. Your were literally talking to Pierre Gasly, the fucking Red Bull Driver. The reason you were there at all.

You decide not to report this incident to your boss.

—

2.

The next time you see him is six months later, when he’s unfortunately been demoted to Toro Rosso. You felt for him, you really did. No one deserves to have their hopes and dreams snatched away like he did; you knew what it was like to be in his position.

But you also know that your circumstances do not define you. You had a feeling that Pierre was meant for more than just a midfield team. It wasn’t even your job to worry about him, but for some inexplicable reason, you did. You try to clear your head when your mentor offers you a break.

You roam around the paddock aimlessly, when you spot him, doing press.

You wait for him to finish and clear your throat.

“I didn’t get my tickets!” you complain, frowning comically.

He turns around to look at you, eyes widening in realization.

"It's you!" He smiles. "Nice to see you here again…"

"Likewise Mr. Gasly," you say. "Although a heads up about who you were would have been appreciated."

"You never asked me for my name," he shrugs.

"Neither did you- I'm honestly surprised you still remember me…"

"Why wouldn't I?" His eyes glint, mischievously. "After all, it's not everyday you meet someone as stunning as you." He winks at you, very bold with his intentions.

You remind yourself that here, he was your client. As much as you want to, you have to hold yourself back.

"Of course. Thank you," you say, meekly. "I'm… sorry for the whole demotion thing."

He huffs. "It's not your fault, don't worry about it. If anything, it's my fault and my fuck ups that brought me here."

"Come on Pierre," you cross your arms. "I know your stats. Both of us know that's not true."

"At this point?" He sighs. "I don't even know."

You feel terrible for him. You don't know why. In an act of either incredible empathy or stupidity, you press your lips on his cheeks.

"What was that for?" He asks, a little confused, turning slightly red.

"Good luck! I'm technically not allowed to do this, but now you go out there and show them what they're missing out on. Fuck them."

He laughs and straightens his cap. "Thank you. I needed that."

—

When he finished that race on the second step of the podium, your heart swells with pride, and just a hint of something else.

At the afterparty, you find him sipping on a beer in a corner; his team throwing his trophy in the air and celebrating like they just won the championship.

“Not celebrating your victory?” you ask him, standing next to him with a foot to the wall. You weren’t wearing heels, so it was actually comfortable.

“Nah,” he takes a swig of his drink. “They’re doing all the celebrating for me. Besides, it’s not even like I won the race or anything.”

“Hmm,” you raise an eyebrow. “I never pegged you for the silent brooding ‘I-dedicate-this-win-to-my-team’ kinda guy.”

“Oh yeah?” he smiles, cryptically. “What did you peg me for?”

“I don’t know. Someone who loves being the center of attention?” you answer, candidly.

“Interesting,” he muses. There’s a pregnant pause. “Have you considered that maybe I already am the center of attention of the person I want?”

Your mind goes blank. You blink repeatedly, unsure if he meant what he really meant. He’s closer now, much closer, and he’s intoxicating. What you want to do to him is extremely unprofessional, but you’re frozen anyway, it doesn’t matter.

“I-” you stutter,but he cuts you off with his lips on yours.

It feels like everything, and nothing you expect. He tastes like champagne– sweet, bubbly, affectionate – and you want to melt into him. He’s pushing you against the wall, so there’s nowhere for you to go except forwards, into him.

Suddenly, he breaks off. “Look, I’m sorry if this came off as too-”

You grab his hair and pull him towards you. “Shut up and kiss me weirdo.”

He grins. “Anything for my lucky charm”

-

3.

It turns out, your boss was so impressed with you he wants to give you a promotion. You were uncharacteristically unhappy.

“That’s great!” Pierre smiles excitedly when you tell him. “What’s the problem?”

“I won’t be able to come see you race anymore. My new position means I’ll have to stay in LA.” You sigh.

You’d kept your relationship mostly under wraps, but you’d been joined at the hips ever since his podium. Your boss didn’t care much for your extracurricular activities, but he did warn you to keep it out of public view; it would be bad for the firm. Pierre was a little unhappy that he couldn’t show off his amazing girlfriend to the world, but your happiness was his happiness.

“But,” he counters. “Since you’re not affiliated with Honda anymore, there’s no reason why we can’t go public.”

Leave it to him to find the silver lining.

“It also means I get to tell the entire world how lucky I am to have you.” he holds your hand, reassuring you.

“You really think I should take it?”

“Of course! You’d be an idiot not to. I’d be an idiot to tell you to drop it.”

“Oh yeah? I already think you are an idiot.”

“An idiot in love with you,” he kisses you softly.

It was times like these that made you want to give yourself completely over to him. It was sheer coincidence that brought you together, and for some reason you were afraid that it’ll be over as quickly as it started.

You push Pierre to the carpet, peppering his face with little kisses, hoping it’d convey how much you really cared for him. He simply held you, running his fingers over your back, comforting you.

You turn your attention downwards, unbuttoning his shirt and dragging your nails over his smooth chest. You loved watching him tremble, completely under your mercy.

He was equally crafty, however. In the time you take to reach his abs, he’s already undone your bra.

“Efficiency,” he grins, pulling off your top.

“I’ll do you one better,” you say, feeling his length through his pants. You quickly unzip them and take out his dick from his boxers. “Someone’s already excited.”

“For you, it’s hard to be unexcited,” he pulls you closer, running his fingers through your hair. In one fluid moment, you lower yourself onto him.

“Fuck,” he moans. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Smiling coyly, you start to move. Pierre stares into your eyes, as if they contained the secrets of the universe, and the way he acted around you, anyone would’ve thought they actually did. He caresses your breasts, tweaking your nipples. You cry out his name.

Soon, you’ve built a rhythm, his hips thrusting in tandem with yours. It was less about the physical pleasure and more about the emotional side for you really (not that he was bad at either). You were never this hard with anyone else. He made you crazy. Feral. He loosened your inhibitions, making your heart beat faster than his speed on the straights.

When he cums inside you, your name on his lips, you simply collapse. You were his. He was yours. In the end, you’d always come back to him.

“Round 2?” he asks, a little out of breath.

“Good luck,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder.

–

4.

“Well Pierre, that was definitely one hell of a race!” Jenson Button asks him, the shock on his face matching the one on Pierre’s own.

You meet his eyes, and that instantly brings a smile to his tired face.

“That’s more like it!” Jenson claps his back. “I mean sensational. In your short period in Formula 1 you’ve been through so much, so many emotions, highs, lows… This is phenomenal. It must feel very special?”

Pierre draws in a breath. “Honestly, it’s unbelievable. I’m not realizing what’s happening right now, you know. It was such a crazy race. We capitalized on the red flag. The car was fast. We had a pretty fast car behind us. As you said, I’ve been through so much in the space of 18 months. My first podium last year, I was already like ‘wow, with AlphaTauri and now my first win in Formula 1, in Monza, I struggle to realize. I’m so proud of my team– winning as Italians at the Italian ‘Temple of speed’. I just have no words.”

“What’re your plans for the future? What’s next for you?” Jenson presses on.

“Well,” Pierre sighs. “I had planned on doing this a little later but there is something I want to do.”

Carlos calls for Charles on the side, who passes Pierre a tiny box.

“I want to dedicate this win to the person who supported me at my lowest,” he speaks into the mic. “And the best way to do that, is to ask her if she’ll marry me.”

He jumps down the podium, forgoing the pictures and champagne spraying. He had eyes only for you. You run ecstatically towards him, not caring if you twist your ankles in those heels. He catches you, kisses you, and then kneels on one leg.

You don’t let him finish the question before you say yes, screaming and jumping around like a bunny on drugs. He somehow slips the finger on your ring, a simple solitaire in a platinum band. Elegant, classy, yet not ostentatious. He smiles and embraces you.

“Ready to spend the rest of our lives together?” he asks, not caring that every single camera was trained on the two of you.

You wipe your eyes. “Always. Thank you.”

He turns around and gets blinded by three different camera flashes.

“Maybe I should’ve done it privately?” he mumbles. You smirk.

“Good luck out there,” you wave as they haul him off to finish the podium celebrations.

Both Carlos and Lance drown him in champagne, but hey, it was a good look on him. And you were just as wet as he was. That's a surprise for him later.

—

5.

“You ready?” Pierre asks you in your shared bedroom at your LA residence. Today was your first day as senior partner at your firm, and you were a little nervous.

“I think so– can you zip me up?” You ask him. “But for real this time. I cannot reach work an hour late like last time.”

Pierre wraps your waist from behind, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “It’s not my fault my fiancee–” he slowly zips you up. “Is so sexy.”

You bring your hair to the front, allowing him easy access to your neck.

“Come on mon coeur,” he pleads. “A quickie. 10 minutes tops.”

“Oh ho, no way,” you shake your head, turning around to face him. “Your ten minutes is more like an hour. I told you already,” you smack him with a cushion.

“Okay, Okay,” he laughs. “I’ll go check on breakfast.”

Your phone buzzes. Did you see his interview? Your best friend sends you a text.

The Vanity Fair one? You text back. No not yet, why?

Read it. I am so jealous right now. She replies.

You pull up the article on your phone in curiosity..

Lorraine Barnes (LB): So Pierre, after that masterclass at Monza last year, and your surprise engagement, tell me, how does it feel to be winning on both sides? Pierre Gasly (PG): It’s been surreal. She’s everything I could ever need. Did you know she’s made Senior Partner at her firm? She’s super talented. LB: I bet she is! Lucky girl. PG: Every day, I feel like I’m the lucky one. I almost proposed on our third date but Charles talked me out of it. LB: She’s a special lady– PG: She’s the best. No one compares. Just last week– LB: And what about the team? PG: Oh right, Pyry, my race engineer and I went over a few strategies for the upcoming Hungarian GP. Did I tell you my fiancee is going to be there too? ...

You put down your phone, closing the tab. There was no way that smile on your face was going to disappear soon.

“Pierre,” you call for him from the dining table. He comes out with flour on his nose and just a towel on his shoulders. You contemplate calling in sick and spending the rest of the day with him on your bed, doing things sick people would not have energy to do, but shake those thoughts away.

“Yeah?”

“I read the interview.”

He turns slightly red. “Oh well, you see–”

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?”

“I could do with some more reminding–”

You interrupt him with a deep passionate kiss.

“Thank you,” your eyes have tears. “For everything.”

He smiles and tells you to get into the car.

—

Before you open the door to the office building, he rolls down the window of his Acura NSX.

“Good Luck!” he screams. You turn around and blow a kiss at him.

He smirks and speeds away.

[shibaraki]

Between the hours of two and three, standing beneath the flickering artificial light of your local corner store, it feels as if a rift is formed between realities. Nights like these were becoming a little too frequent you think, too ingrained into your routine. After fitful sleep you'd drag yourself out of bed and throw on your biggest coat, visibly carrying the weight of your exhaustion with sluggish gait.

The employee behind the counter had silently welcomed you with a quick glance up from their phone as they always did, eyebrows lifting in recognition. You felt sheepish — you really had been coming here too often.

In this liminal space, so quiet you can hear the thrum of electricity in the panels above your head, you are anything but yourself. No expectations, no deadlines, no responsibilities. It was a temporary, albeit slightly unhealthy, reprieve. Anonymous, hidden behind the collar of your jacket with hands held around a hot cup of instant ramen, accepting the sting in your palms.

You barely even register the sliding door’s pitched squeak, watching as the noodles slowly soften into the boiled water. Your mouth curls into a small smile. There really was no reason for you to buy and make them here, plenty were already stacked in your cupboard at home, but you felt content doing so.

Snapping the disposable chopsticks and stirring the food into the broth, plumes of steam kiss your cheeks. Someone slides into your periphery and settles alongside you with their own cup, the seal popping as they pull back the lid. Offering an apology, you shuffle to the left so they can get to the boiled water, keeping your chin tucked.

No movement follows. You hear a soft exhale of laughter, as if in disbelief. “No way,” the man murmurs. Drawn to the voice, you glance in their direction and find a very familiar face.

"Oikawa?"

He grins in delight, pleased by your outburst, eyes wrinkling at the corners. "Ouch. No more Tooru, hm?"

You smother the urge to look away from how obviously happy he is to see you. The heat in your cup seeps through the cardboard sleeves and you feel it fizzle in your fingers, in your chest. He hasn't changed all that much — still patently beautiful, though he has lost some of the roundness in his jaw, hair a little shorter and his features more refined. Though he hasn't grown any taller he still feels bigger, appearing to be genuinely at ease and carrying himself well. The aura of confidence is far less imitative, you think; and he certainly had plenty of reasons to be confident now, many of them shaped like gold medals.

You hadn't seen him since the break up and never thought you would again, given that he'd moved to a completely different country. While it'd been amicable you couldn't deny that it hurt, or that you'd missed him. Even now there is some tenderness lingering, all these years later.

"Tooru then," you indulge him and correct yourself with a wry smirk, easily falling back into good-natured teasing, "tell me, what is an Olympic athlete doing buying instant noodles at this time of night?"

"What, a guy can't enjoy his miso ramen?" he huffs, the air bloating his cheeks as he pouts, but you know it's all in jest, "I'm always finding creative ways to keep myself humble".

Despite his bravado the flush spreads further to the tips of his ears, and you realise he truly hadn't expected to see anybody here during this hour, above all you. With a facemask pulled under his chin, an old hoodie and a jacket drawn slightly tight across his layered shoulders, he must've been attempting to disguise himself.

"Well I'm glad you're mixing with us mere mortals," your smile is anything but forced as you shake your head, lowering your eyes to stare into your cup. There is a short beat of silence, and you find yourself holding a breath, awareness toward your state of undress trickling into your thoughts. You probably looked awful.

Your insecurities are soon pushed aside by the gentle bump of his elbow, attempting to regain your attention. The bulb above flickers, another customer ambling into the aisles as your eyes meet again. They're just as striking as you remember, pooling with melancholy and fondness.

"If your place is nearby I can walk you back while we eat," he says, "catch up a little if you like".

It's offered up as a suggestion, paired with a subtle shrug to play up nonchalance that convinces no one. Something about it makes you giddy, how quickly he regressed into boyish charm, saying one thing and meaning another. It reminds you of those long summers, of fleeting touches and lingering by the garden gate, of looking over your shoulder every few paces as you part to go home and wanting to be the last one who said goodbye.

"I'd love that," you reply honestly, wetting your lower lip as you fiddle with the chopsticks, "are you sure, though? Depending on where you're staying, I wouldn't want you to go out of your way to—"

"I want to," he cuts in, rushing to stop you from finishing the sentence like he was nervous you'd convince yourself otherwise, "the hotel isn't far and I'm not going to be sleeping anytime soon. Besides, my body clock is still adjusting..."

He tapers off, expression pinching into a grimace at the desperate intonation in his voice. You laugh into the collar of your coat and the tension bleeds from his shoulders. Everything is warm, a long dormant kindling of affection returning to your chest. You turn away from him to grab a throwaway lid for your cup and try not to notice the way his face briefly falls, brightening then as you take one for him too.

"Alright," you murmur, leaning against his side to encourage him towards the exit, "I guess I'll give you the honour. There's a lot we've both missed".

"Yeah," he sucks his lip between his teeth to restrain a bigger grin, free hand flexing restlessly at his side, "there is".

[brain--drop]

Hey I was wondering if I could get masky/tim, Toby, hoody and Jane (if you write for her) reacting to having a tall plus size female girlfriend. thanks I love how you write for them 🥰

I guess I'm just in a really cuddly mood because that's the direction this ended up going. It was really sweet to write and I'm glad to hear that you enjoy them!//

Tim:

The man gets surprised when realizing how tall you are but loves it nonetheless, getting after anyone like a stern father that decides to tease or bully you for it

Tim also absolutely adores your curves and if you were ever insecure in anyway, he won't hesitate to pick you up and shower you with kisses much to your worried protest

One of his favorite things to see with you is when you're overflowing with confidence in yourself, no matter how small, because he's glad you see yourself with as much love as he sees you

Masky:

Now take Tim's affection and double it because there is no moment where Masky doesn't have his hands on you due to loving your body

He very much enjoys making you flustered when he carries you like nothing and lies his head on and in between your thighs since "There is no perfect and comfy napping spot than right here."

As for your height, he doesn't mind it as much other than if you wear heals that make you more than 2 inches taller than him, but not like he would bring it up

Masky's favorite part of the day is when he comes back to his room completely drained out and sees his girlfriend lying in bed with your arms open, making him hop in and tangle up in warm and comfortable cuddles with you

Toby:

He gets excited over your height since hugs and kisses are slightly more easier to give than having to bend down all the time so he's definitely more affectionate when he has the chance

As he is more affectionate, cuddles and hugs are a very, very common occurrence since he finds them so comforting and warm with how soft your body is, coming up behind you at random times of the day to do so

Toby would get after people who tease you on your height or body for you, though sometimes he may overdo it by getting into physical fights with anyone

As you help patch him up anytime afterwards, he'd lie his head on your chest because "This is the b-best medicine."

Hoodie:

You'll have to put your hand over his mouth with how many compliments this lad throws at you on the daily because it's nonstop. Whether it's height or body, he never runs out of words of affection and encouragement over how beautiful he thinks is girlfriend is

He can't take his eyes off of you and loves wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him for sweet kisses

Because he's a pretty tall man himself, he doesn't mind your height at all and loves how perfectly you fit against his body in a hug like a puzzle piece

If anyone were to give you a hard time over your body or height, Hoodie is sneakily bitter and will put heavy amounts of salt into their foods, even coffee like he did with Jeff once

Jane:

She loves it, she loves it all. With how amazing your curves are and how much taller you are beside her even when she's wearing heels, Jane is just in awe with you, her beautiful girlfriend

She'll tease you in a wholesome way like when she's in the kitchen and a bowl is just the tiniest bit out of her reach, she'll laugh lightly and look over at you

"Aw man, I can't reach the bowl so I can eat my soup. If only a tall woman, as beautiful, lovely and wonderful as my girlfriend, could get it for me."

As much as Jane loves leaning her head on your chest or stomach for when she needs to relax, she much prefers to cuddle you from behind with her arms completely around you while you both sit on the bed. Even better if you agree to sit on her lap, she'll cherish every second

[biggest-stupidhead]

Can I ask for an request where Levi is a soldier who is pointed to protect a royal person. Then he fell in love with her active attitude, smart brain and support to the scout

AN: This took me so long. I deleted it like three times on accident so this is as good as its going to get 😂. do let me know though if I misspelled anything I didn't skim over it sooooo YOLO.

Summary: Levi is asked to attend the summer gala with !princess reader.

Word Count: 2.8 K

Warnings: mentions of Levi's scarring, some cussing? I think? that's about it

__________

Levi's hand trembled as he ran the fine toothed comb through his damp hair. He scowled back at his own reflection, eyes avoiding the pink scars that marred his skin. It had been nearly a year since he had been discharged from the military due to his injuries. At first he had struggled to find a routine, having been in the military for more than half of his life, it was a huge loss.

His hand jerked unexpectedly and the comb pulled through a knot in his hair painfully. He clicked his tongue and dropped the comb, gripping the edges of the sink to steady himself.

How pathetic.

There was a time when he could complete these tasks with no problem. But now his body seemed to be failing him, if he stood for too long his joints protested, he struggled to hold a pen due to his lack of fingers. He also wore an eyepatch to cover his milky right eye and some of the scars that covered the right side of his face.

Normally Hange would help him get ready, they were the only person he could stomach seeing him this way. But Hange was busy, they had meetings all morning. So Levi was left on his own, and he managed as well as he could. Although it took him double the amount of time it usually took, he still did it.

He grabbed his cane on his way out of his humble apartment, the carriage was waiting for him outside. In the carriage was the last person he wished to see, Zeke Jaeger. His glasses glinted in the sunlight as the coachman held the door for Levi who sat as far away from the war chief as possible.

Zeke blew out a puff of smoke, which swirled around in the small space. Levi's lip curled into a sneer, and Zeke smirked pleased to rouse a reaction from the retired Captain.

"Big day today eh Levi?" He spoke around his cigarette and Levi rolled his eyes.

"I suppose." He agreed, eyes never leaving the man.

That was about the only words exchanged between the two, the ride was thankfully short. The carriage arrived to the castle just after noon, the coachmen opened the door for Levi and Zeke. The sunlight was bright and made Levi squint, it didn't help that the castle seemed to glow as the sun bounced off of it.

"This way old friend." Zeke instructed and Levi followed begrudgingly, Zeke led Levi through the halls and into a large ball room. The castle staff was scurrying about, carrying massive bouquets of flowers and other decorations in preparation for the summer gala. Levi had attended this very event many times over his career, but he had not intended on joining in this year. Zeke paused a few feet away from Erwin, who was standing before a young woman Levi had met a handful of times. You had aged in the past two years that he hadn't seen you, although you weren't any taller, he could see the age on your face. Much as he assumed you could see in his, you also carried yourself more confidently, shoulders back, chin up.

Erwin paused and turned to greet the two men, who both saluted him and you.

"Captain, how nice to see you." You hummed, a pleased glint in your eyes as you curtsied, much to his surprise.

"You as well Zeke." You seemed less excited to see the war chief.

"Princess, you look lovely." Zeke closed the distance between the two of you, taking your hand a bit too eagerly and bringing it to his lips. You smiled a bit tersely, but allowed it.

"Ah, and you look...as hairy as the last time we met." Your jab threw Levi off, but Erwin seemed to have expected the exchange. Zeke laughed heartily and pulled back.

"Such a sharp tongue on you princess." He chuckled and you shrugged, a smug grin on those lips of yours.

"You make it easy."

"Princess, you are aware that Levi is to accompany you to this year's gala yes?" Erwin steered the conversation in a more relevant direction and you nodded.

"Mhm, and I'm very excited to be escorted by Eldia's most eligible bachelor." Levi wasn't sure if you meant it sincerely, or if it was his turn to face the wrath of your sharp words.

"I'm sure you are." Erwin chuckled, his hand falling on the back of your tricep. You gathered your skirts and took a few steps closer to Levi.

"The last time we met, you weren't keen on dancing, I do hope that's changed." You smirked at him and Levi barely fought the flush off of his cheeks as you pushed past him.

"We can go in the drawing room and discuss logistics, the gala is a mere week away after all-" Levi tuned out whatever it was Erwin was babbling about, too focused on watching you saunter out of the room.

__

Levi spent the next week trailing behind Erwin, attending meetings and luncheons with other high ranking military members. It was boring, but nothing that he hadn't done before. The day of the gala, Hange arrived with the remaining of the 104th cadet corps. Levi felt great relief at seeing the familiar faces, Hange had eagerly came to hug him, and he pretended to hate it. Mikasa even came and gave him the briefest of embraces, Connie had been the most excited, throwing his arms around his former captain and squeezing him tightly. Armin had grinned sheepishly, and offered a small wave. Jean just nodded respectively in Levi's direction. Gabby and Falco had tagged along as well, wearing their best uniforms, decorated with their medals.

"I can't believe we get to come to the summer gala!" Connie gushed, his hazel eyes wide as he soaked in the castle in all of its glory.

"We won a war." Jean huffed, eyes sharp, hand fidgeting with his medal on his lapel.

"We lost more than we won." Mikasa murmured, her own shaky hands reaching for a scarf that was no longer wrapped around her neck. The cheery mood quickly dissipated at Mikasa's statement, Hange cleared their throat and clapped their hands in an attempt to drag everyone from their thoughts.

"Let's go meet Erwin then." They said, and Levi nodded.

"Let's." The group walked through the halls, Hange in the lead and Levi at their side, it felt like old times. The kids, well they weren't really kids anymore, were beginning to return to their annoying selves.

"-will we be able to eat the food?" Gabby asked, and Levi nearly flinched, the statement reminded him all too much of Sasha. Connie seemed less phased, he sighed and brought his arms behind his neck as they walked.

"I sure hope so."

"We're here on business." Mikasa reminded them and Jean hummed in agreement.

"We're here as representatives." Armin added, and Hange chuckled.

"Use this as an opportunity children." Hange cooed, pausing in front of the doors to the drawing room.

"Have some fun, get drunk, you've earned it." Hange then pushed the doors open, revealing the cozy drawing room, Erwin sat with his legs crossed in one of the arm chairs, a book in his lap. He closed the book and stood, his sleeve hanging limply where his arm once was.

"Cadets, erm or should I say captains." Erwin chuckled awkwardly as the kids all jumped to salute him, fists clenched over their hearts.

"Commander." They all greeted in unison.

"Sit, we have much to discuss."

__

The discussion was rather tame, a short bit of it had been relevant. Where the kids were to stand, what they were to say and how they were expected to act. The rest of the afternoon had been spent catching up and enjoying each other's company. Just a few hours before the guests were to arrive, Erwin sent the group off to find their spots.

Levi found himself waiting outside of your room, his watch gripped tightly in his fist, watching the minutes tick by. You emerged about fifteen minutes after him arriving, your dress was a deep emerald green, elegantly hugging your frame in all of the right places. You smoothed the silk gown skirts and smiled at him, the red lipstick on your lips making your teeth seem extra white.

"You look ravishing Captain." You complimented, accepting his arm before walking slowly down the hall, careful to keep his pace.

"...as do you." He choked out, a blush tickling his ears.

"Did you get all done up for me?" You pressed, hand tightening around his bicep.

"No." He answered, although he was partially lying, the truth was all he could think about as he dressed, was you. How would you be dressed? Was he to match you? Or was he expected to wear his usual military dress? He had opted for the latter, and it seemed to work well, the inky black dress coat and the gold medals that decorated his lapels seemed to compliment the emerald in your dress.

"Well, I sure hope that you will at least dance with me." You pouted, shooting him a hopeful look.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue, truthfully it was all that he could mange, he was nervous enough about joining you this evening. But you asking him to dance? He had never danced in his life, and with his legs in the state they were in now?

The two of you stopped, overlooking the ball room which was already filled with guests, milling about with flutes of champagne. You snuck a glance at Levi, who was looking down at the crowd with a bored glaze over his eyes.

"Ready?" You asked, squeezing his bicep once and he nodded, chin held high as the two of you slowly made your way down the staircase. Levi's eyes scanned the crowd, searching for familiar faces, which he found in their designated spots. He knew that the king had asked him to accompany his daughter largely as a political move, not for protection as he had in the past. But old habits die hard, he double checked exits and kept an eye out for shady people, it was easier than looking at you after all. Not because you were ugly, rather the opposite, you were stunning and that intimidated him.

After at least forty five minutes of socializing, the dancing began and you tugged impatiently on his arm, which you had yet to let go of.

"Please Levi, just this once." You whispered so only he could hear, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at your closeness.

"Princess." He said sternly, although his voice did shake a tad, and you grinned, knowing that you had nearly convinced him.

"Captain." You countered, taking a step towards the dance floor.

"Just one." he said after a moment's hesitation before falling back in step with you.

"Just one." You affirmed with a wicked grin as you led him into the mass of bodies.

Levi felt his pulse race, his anxiety was roaring he had absolutely no clue how to dance, especially with his legs in the state that they were. You seemed to sense this, carefully taking his hand and resting it on your hip as you stepped ever so closely to him. Your chest was pressed against his, and he was sure that you could feel the pounding of his heart as it threatened to escape his ribcage.

"You just follow my lead." You whispered as he brought his other hand to rest naturally in the palm of yours. He nodded, eyes wandering down to glance at his feet, which were partially concealed by your skirts.

"It goes something like this, step-" You took a step towards him and he took one back.

"Then to the left," You instructed softly and he obliged, the two of you moving slightly out of sync.

"Then forwards again." You nodded as he stepped forwards and you stepped back, skirt swaying.

"Then to the right," You chuckled as his brows remained fixed in a tight knot as he tried to focus.

"Then we do it again." You seemed satisfied, and he nodded it was simple enough, although he could already feel the strain of the activity in his joints.

"Easy." He huffed, taking the lead and you giggled and fell into step with him.

"Tell me Levi, when you went across the ocean and fought those men, who were you fighting for?" The question caught him off guard and he nearly forgot the next step.

"That's an odd question." Levi shot you a mean look and you shrugged.

"I want to know what pushed Humanities strongest to be so strong." You answered, unfazed by his sour look.

"I fight for the people." He replied curtly and you sighed.

"That's a boring answer, I want to know what really drives you." You pressed and Levi frowned.

"Its the truth."

"Then tell me a lie." You raised a brow, challenging him and he screwed his nose up in distaste.

"Why would you want me to lie to you?" He asked out of genuine curiosity, no one had ever given him such a request.

"To spice some things up I guess." You hummed nonchalantly and squeezed your hand that held his.

"Then I would tell you I fought that war for you." He regretted the words, but you seemed to be pleased by them.

"Aw so you did think of me while we were apart." You cooed and Levi nearly broke away from you, but he only gripped your hand harder.

"You were the last thing on my mind." he huffed and you let out a throaty laugh. A lie, he thought of you often.

"You really are funny." You let your head fall affectionately into the crook of his neck and he swallowed thickly, as your scent washed over him.

"I didn't mean to be."

"I know, that's what makes it funny." Your breath tickled his neck as you spoke, you seemed to be in no hurry to pull away.

"Hmph." He hummed stupidly, unable to form words with you so close.

The song ended and you lifted your head, one of those wide grins sprawled across your lips.

"That wasn't so bad was it?" You whispered cheekily and he scoffed as the two of you exited the dance floor. You both found a seat at one of the tables set on the outskirts of the room, taking a break to drink and enjoy each others company.

Levi rubbed his knee under the table, the dance had truly taken a toll on him and he barely suppressed a groan. You noticed, shooting him a concerned look.

"Does it bother you often?" You asked, dragging your chair closer to his. He rolled his eye and pulled his hand slowly away from his leg.

"No."

"You're lying, just tell me the truth."

"I thought you wanted me to lie to you." He snapped back and you scoffed.

"Not about this." You reasoned and he sighed deeply.

"Yes, it hurts like a bitch." He turned to face you, his knee knocking yours and you frowned.

"You should've told me, I wouldn't have made you dance."

"I-" He paused, catching himself before the words left his mouth. But after one look at your open and concerned face he couldn't not say what he had been wanting to say.

"I wanted to." He admitted and your eyes widened a fraction.

"You...really wanted to?" Your words were raw and clearly Levi had caught you, the witty young princess off guard.

"I did."

"Would you do it again?"

"Yes."

"Hm." A smug look crossed your face and Levi scowled at you, not liking the way you seemed to be plotting something unbeknownst to him.

"What?" He snapped and you let out a short burst of laughter.

"I knew that you weren't lying when you said that you thought about me." You teased and he growled lowly under his breath.

"Maybe that was your last dance with me."

"Easy now, let's not be hasty, we have the whole night after all darling." You patted his shoulder, standing slowly and walking around the back of his chair to squeeze his shoulders before slipping off into the crowd.

He hoped that you meant it, that you would come back even if he could not dance with you again. He hoped that you had thought of him too, that his fighting had all been worth it. To spend the rest of his life by your side, even if he was just your guard or even a political ploy. He would do it for you, and he would do so happily.

[spinster-sisters]

Criminal. khj

TW: Violence kinda, weapons kinda, illegal stuff obviously, exhibitionism, marking, posesiveness, gang? au? possibly, I honestly dont know what this is.

WC: 6k

I normally dont do summaries but I got a funny one:

You and your boyfriend escape a bank robbery.

-

The toe of your shoe clicks against the marble floor as you tap your foot. Across the room, high up on the wall there is an analog clock ticking down the seconds. It’s getting late, and the bank teller couldn’t be going any slower. Only two people ahead of you now.

You check your phone for the fifth time in the past 10 minutes, no update. Must not be running as late as you thought. You shift your weight to your other foot only to start taping once again. Ok sure, you weren’t late, it doesn’t mean you like how long this damn lady is taking.

The line moves up as the teller begins helping the next person. You attempt to swallow your impatience as best you can, pulling out your phone again to quickly slide between apps, but the longer you stand there the louder the ticking of the clock seems to echo around the room.

Looking away from your device, you take another look around the room. Nothing has changed since you came in. In between the doors and the lines, there was a seating area filled with two uncomfortable-looking couches facing each other and a coffee table between them. There were still 3 tellers sitting at their desks, 10 customers in line counting you. Two in the first line, three in the second, yourself, and two others in the last. About as busy as you would expect at this time of day. But the waiting still sucked.

Finally, you hear the teller ask “is there anything else I can help you with?” And you know that soon it will be your turn at the window. Pulling out your phone again you shoot a quick text.

[ it’s my turn next, hopefully, I’ll be out of here soon ]

1:24pm

Just as the woman in front of you steps away a notification dings on your phone.

[ See you soon ;) ]

1:25pm

You sighed at your boyfriend's message, thinking the winky face was a bit on the nose for your taste. But Hongjoong liked to tease.

Dropping your phone back into your pocket, you look up just as the teller motions you forward. The click of your shoe against the tile seems almost deafening in the quiet room as you step forward, trying to mask the small smile Hongjoong’s message had given you.

“what can I help you with today?” The lady at the counter-question with subdued chirpiness. Clearly, she has had a long day, already ready for it to be over. The thought made you wince.

“Hi, there seems to be a problem with the direct deposit on my account. My last paycheck didn’t go in.” You start, placing both hands on the counter.

The teller nods, with mock understanding, clearly just an impulse for years of customer service. Somewhere outside several car doors slam, but no one inside seems to notice the sound.

“Could I have the number of the account?” The teller asks, placing both hands on the keyboard and frowning at the screen, prepared to type whatever comes out of your mouth. You don’t have time to say it.

All the lights on the monitor suddenly shut off. The woman helping you looks taken aback for a second, looking over to her coworkers only to see them doing the same. The hairs on the back of your neck shoot up as nerves build in your stomach.

The next thing happens so quickly you barely register it. The glass door slides open and a metal canister flies into the room. Acting on instinct your hands fly to your ears, your eyes screwed shut, and you drop to your knees. Even with your ears covered it does little to silence the ear-splitting bang that rips through the room. It sends the rest of the room's inhabitants to the floor seconds after you, either from shock or from the disorienting mix of light and sound that came from the small device.

Flashbang.

Your heart jumps up to your throat. You open your eyes but did not let your hands drop just yet. The ring was still sounding in the room, but the blinding light had gone. Just as the last of the ringing fizzled out the doors slid open again.

A group of masked figures took confident strides into the room. Your eyes searched the street behind them, looking for anyone who might notice what’s going on. There was no one. Your stomach dropped again. The others in the room finally seemed to be regaining their hearing and sight, only to shriek when the men came into view. Swallowing your nerves you do a headcount of the patrons. Three tellers, ten customers including yourself. All adults, no children. That was good, children would cause problems.

After assessing the situation and taking a few deep breaths, you look over to the group of men who were starting to spread out around the room. The more you looked at them the more frightening they appeared. Each of the men were were dressed head to toe in black with a mask covering the bottom half of their faces, but even as you sized them up you avoided looking at their eyes, drawing attention to yourself now would be stupid.

Every one of them carried a gun. But as they fanned out across the room only one had it pointed. The same one that spoke.

“Anyone not on the ground better get that way. We don’t have all day.” The voice that spoke was calm but had a clear edge. The tones meaning ran clear in your ears as much as everyone else’s, calm does not mean forgiving. You kept your head down, trying your best to sink into the shadows trying to avoid drawing attention to yourself, that’s what people always said to do right?

You heard a few thuds as the few people in the room who remained standing dropped to the floor. None of the other patrons or staff said a word. Thank god, fighting would make this much more difficult.

“Great, now I want everyone’s hands on the ground in front of them. Try to call anyone and one of us will put a new hole in your head, so why don’t we make this easy and nobody make a sound.” The voice continued in that same tone. Your eyes shot up to make sure everyone was following orders as you placed your own hands on the cold tile next to your bare knees, they were already getting stiff and you hoped this would be over quickly.

A few of the men began walking through the people on the floor, hands on their guns but not drawn, checking just as you did that everyone was behaving. As one of the taller ones drifted toward your spot you stared at the same tile a few feet ahead of you, matching the other patrons around you.

You heard the heavy thuds of footsteps as they paused in front of you, just for a moment. You felt the gaze burn into the top of your skull as you stared forward, holding your breath.

“You don’t look nearly scared enough.” The new voice spoke, completely nonchalant. The next moment, a heavy leather boot pressed down onto your hand, crushing it against the tile. You winced and let out a small cry as pain shot up your arm. It stung as he dug his foot harder onto your hand. Both hands started to shake as the pain built, the knot that had formed in your chest from the moment the flash-bang fell through the air tightened till your breath became choked and shaky. Suddenly the pressure was gone.

“Much better,” the voice all but giggled before moving on.

You took a heaving breath as soon as the boots left your field of vision. You felt sweat start to form on your brow bone. You looked up again. A few terrified faces of other patrons looked at you with fear, clearly expecting that the man was going to blow your head off.

The man who spoke first stepped forward and motioned to the middle teller who was watching petrified from behind his desk, head barely peeking over the edge.

“You,” he started again, taking long strides across the room, walking within a few feet from you on your right side to the opening that led behind the counter, “Why don’t you show me to the safe?” He asked, voice still disconcertingly cordial. The teller gapped for a moment, and the man tilted his head expectantly. The teller stumbled to his feet, eyes not moving from the shiny gun trained on him. He did little more than gesture vaguely for the man to follow him before they both disappeared behind the doors that lead to the back of the bank, 2 of the other men followed behind him.

The room was stiff with tension. For the patrons at least. All of you seemed to be holding your breath, but the men could not seem calmer. Their postures were relaxed, many of them had their arms crossed over their chest or were leaning against furniture. None of them even had their weapons drawn, but they were still visible. Enough to keep everyone shaking with fear with their heads down. It was bizarre but effective for the time being.

Your head was absolutely swimming. Trying to keep notice of the positions of everyone in the room, taking shooting glances around for a few seconds at a time, checking the faces of your fellow hostages. Everyone knows in situations like this it’s best to just comply, you sure fucking hoped the others knew that as well. You tried to lead by example anyway. And then there were the men. You didn’t dare look any one of them in the eye, knowing what kind of consequences that would bring. But you tried to keep tabs on them. They weren’t moving much in the few minutes since the three men disappeared with the teller, but any slight movement they gave was noteworthy into your mind. You had to keep things under control.

The minutes ticked on in almost complete silence, save for the one man who was humming of all things. How could they possibly be relaxed right now you did not know. The sound was harsh against your ears for how gentle it was, it kept distracting you from your thoughts.

The thought in question was a dangerous one. Your back was beginning to ache from being hunched over and your palms were sweating uncomfortably against the marble. From where you sat against the furthest teller window you were blocked from the direct view of every robber by either furniture or walls. What you wanted to do was risky, any slight movement on their behaves would land you in their line of sight. That was an opportunity for anyone who could take it.

You need to text Hongjoong. He needed to know what was going on. You watched the men carefully for the next few minutes, looking for any sign that they might start looking around, but they all seemed perfectly content in their places. With a shaking hand, you slowly began reaching into your pocket. You managed to pull the device out without anyone noticing, but as you slid it into your lap and under your shirt one of the other patrons saw, and their eyes shot wide open. Shit.

They looked at you with frantic, pleading eyes that screamed call for help. They were looking too obvious. You swallowed and shook your head, trying to get them to look away, but they didn’t.

“Heads down,” a deep voice called. Both you and the other patron snapped your eyes to the floor, but after listening for a few seconds it didn’t sound like anyone was moving toward you. You were still blocked from view. With a shaky breath, you slowly pulled the phone out. Unlocking it silently, you pressed on the messages app.

“Well, what’s this?”

Dread shot through you. The man had reappeared from the back, slinking quietly to your side somehow without you noticing. Your head shot up to look at him as he stood, barely 5 feet away from you staring down at your phone. The entire room's attention was now on you. You felt your blood freeze in your veins as the eyes above the mask narrowed into a glare. You didn’t even move to hide the phone, you didn’t move to do anything. You just sat there, staring dumbly back into his eyes. You heard the distant sounds of fear from the hostages and soft chuckles from the men.

The bag he had slung over his shoulder was tossed to the nearest member of his crew, the two that had followed him into the back of the back reappeared, took one look at the scene, one shaking his head before they both carried on out the door with the three bags.

A hand shot into your hair, grabbing it by the roots and pulling you to your feet. Your scalp burned, the pain was so sharp and sudden your eyes screwed shut and you lost Yoruba balance. Disoriented, you let out a shriek at the pain and if it weren’t for the grip on your head you would have fallen right back down. The phone was ripped from your hand. The man slid his hand from your hair to grasp the back of your neck firmly as he looked over the screen. When your eyes opened he was scrolling through the messages from half a moment before laughing a full and wicked laugh.

“Texting your boyfriend? How cute.” He all but cackled. He observed your face, your eyes hard and pricked with tears, and he giggled again. Shoving your phone into his pocket, he motioned to the others before pulling you towards the door. You stumbled over your legs multiple times, letting out cries and hisses as you went but doing little to resist.

The other hostages, let out distraught sobs but you blocked them out, their sympathy would do nothing for you now.

You were pulled out of the building at the same moment the sound of engines roared to life. In one quick glacé you saw that the street was still deserted.

Your back was slammed against the wall of the bank, just out of view of those inside and the barrel of the man's gun was trained on you. You shut your eyes tight.

You heard a bang. And the wailing cries of the hostages inside.

Then familiar lips crashed onto yours. It wasn’t really a kiss, more of a peck. The man's lips moved against yours for only a few seconds, so little you had no time to react before they were gone.

You opened your eyes. His mask was pulled back up, and he had taken a step back. His gun was already holstered at his side.

You didn’t have to see the bottom half of the man's face to know he was smirking. You pushed yourself off the wall and glared at him. At that moment two cars pulled out of the parking lot, one stopping directly in front of you. With a huff you pushed past the man who you could almost guarantee was still grinning.

Opening the door you slid into the backseat against the far window and crossed your arms over your chest. Seconds later the man got in and closed the door. And you were off.

“Come on your not actually mad are you,” he giggled, pulling down his mask.

“You damn near pulled my hair out Hongjoong! Of course, I’m mad!” You spat. You heard the two in the front seat chuckle.

“Oh don’t think you're off the hook Yunho. What the fuck was that? Since when was breaking my hand apart of the plan?” You hollered, kicking your foot against his seat. This only lead to more giggling. You resiliently stared forward, not looking at to boyfriend. He didn’t seem bothered by this in the slightest. Hongjoong slid across the back seat to wrap an arm over your shoulder that even in your rage you didn’t have the heart to shake off.

“But it’s not like I was lying! You looked way too calm. If any of them had looked at you it would have been obvious something was up.” Yunho defended, gesturing with the hand, not on the steering wheel.

“Come on, darling. You know we have to make it believable. I can’t have my best spy get their cover blown because I’m too gentle with you.” The arm around your shoulder tightened, urging you to look at him. Finally, you turned to him, smiling at you so brightly you’d think you were on a friendly road trip.

“Besides, I thought you liked it when I pulled your hair?” Hongjoong said with a cheeky wink. At that Wooyoung howled with laughter from the front seat. You blushed crimson and promptly reached your foot over to kick his seat as well.

“Oh shut up. You were going overboard and you know it.” You grumbled with much less enthusiasm. Hongjoong smiles softly at your pout before leaning back in his seat, giving you a bit more space. Comfortable silence lasted only a few minutes as you drove on before Hongjoong spoke up again.

“Why did you pull your phone out anyway? That was dumb, even if you are on our side.” He asked, fingers rubbing circles comfortingly against your shoulder. You sighed.

“Because the rest of the boys fucked up.” You replied plainly, but still easing into your boyfriend's touch. Both Yunho and Wooyoung made offended noises from the front seat, but you carried on.

“The way they were positioned was wrong. There were blind spots, several actually. You’re just lucky I was the only person in one. I figured I should let you know in case it became a problem.” You continued.

“Hmm,” Hongjoong muttered. While he heard the sound of your voice, you doubted he was listening, as his hand instead taken to playing with your fingers in your lap.

“Isn’t the whole idea of having someone undercover on the inside, so they can tell us where the blind spots are?” Wooyoung asked from the front seat, still clearly offended at your statement.

“I told Yeosang, it’s not my fault you guys planned to take him in the safe this time instead of keeping him in the lobby like always.”You shot back. But even that was half-hearted. Your body really did ache after being hunched on the hard ground for 10 minutes without moving, and the comforting touch of your boyfriend's hands made you melt into the seat, all the tension and worrying about ways it could go wrong eased off your body in waves.

You all could talk about how it went and what needed to be tweaked next time later, right now you just wanted to rest. Hongjoong pulled you against his chest by your shoulder sensing your quick drop in energy.

Just as you were about to doze off a thought popped into your head.

“Hongjoong?”

You could feel the hum he gave in response against your cheek, telling you to continue.

“Are you sure you should have pretended to shoot me? I mean, best case scenario local police add murder onto our rap list. Worst, they find out you have a man on the inside. Either one is bad.” You murmur into his chest. Your group had never killed before as there had never been any need to, and it wasn’t something that any of you really wanted to do.

“That’s only a problem if they catch us.” He replied. Sounding, as always, perfectly certain of himself.

-

Living like this had its pros and cons, much like anything else. The main con being having to drive long ways away for jobs, just as a way to keep yourself safe. Which sometimes meant pulling over on the side of the road at any ditch or shitty motel for the night before getting back to your homes.

As your vehicles pulled into a run-down motel about a mile off the main highway, Hongjoong and Seonghwa had gone into the lobby parading as drunk college students on a road trip to rent the rooms for the night. Needless to say, it had been a long day, the other boys meandered to their rooms and probably fell asleep the moment their heads hit the pillows. But not you.

You had been patiently waiting on the hood of the car you arrived in, for the moment Hongjoong got back. And when he did reappear and the others disappeared, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to go lay down as quickly as they did.

As the crunch of their footsteps on gravel faded till they were indoors, you turned your head upwards to the sky. It was late at night and in the middle of nowhere like this, you could see millions more stars than in your home. Hongjoong kept his place, leaning on the car hood next to where you sat, looking up as well but not at the infinite sky like you. No, he was watching your face.

You don’t know exactly how long you sat there, looking up at the sky but you know your neck had begun to ache when Hongjoong finally pulled himself onto the hood of the car next to you. You naturally came to rest your head on his shoulder, still looking up at the stars, but now in your peripheral vision, you could still see Hongjoong studying your expression carefully.

“Something on your mind?” You ask in a quiet voice, still looking up. Hongjoong stirred, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. You tear your gaze from the stars to look at him. The moon cast a pearly light on his face that in your eyes made him glow.

“Sometimes I think I ruined you,” though his words were serious the giggle he gave at the end showed he had no real remorse. You still scoffed.

“I was a criminal long before I meet you Kim Hongjoong, don’t go thinking you

drastically changed the course of my life.” You reply in a dry tone, even if he was joking, it was still a point you wanted to drive home. He had no reason to be guilty with how you turned out, you were probably safer with him and the others than where you were before. He laughed at you again.

Hongjoong laughed at everything. And his laugh was one of the best things about him. Looking at him now, it gets harder and harder to imagine what your life would have been like without him.

“Babe, you were a petty thief, I turned you into a serial bank robber. I consider that pretty drastic.” He shot back, reaching up to pretend to fix your hair.

“If it wasn’t you, it would have been somebody else, and between us? I’m glad it was you.” Your words came out slightly more sentimental than you had anticipated and when Hongjoong fell silent next to you, you promptly blushed and turned back to the stars.

You and Hongjoong very rarely spoke about stuff like this. Even if neither of you would ever admit it, the truth of living life like this is that all it takes is one day, one mistake, for the family you created and the life you live to come crashing down around you. The span of a few minutes could be the difference between running off into the sunset and quite literally never seeing each other again. And after the slight hiccup, you had today that only you had noticed at first, that thought was at the forefront of your mind.

So basically you liked to live in the moment.

It was quiet for a few minutes, him watching you and you watching the sky. There was a very slight breeze in the air, but the summer air was made it more of a gentle cool wind than an uncomfortable chill.

“It’s getting late, you should go to sleep,” Hongjoong muttered. Quieter than his usual quip.

“I slept in the car.” You replied easily. Which was true, and while that nap had been anything but restful with the constant bumps in the road, he didn’t need to know that.

“Oh well, here I was trying to get you in bed but I guess you don’t want to.” He sighed, regaining some of the playfulness from earlier while running a teasing hand up your spine. It gave you shivers, but you had no desire to give in to him so easily.

“Who says we need a bed?” You ask matter of factly. Turning to give him the same wink he had laid on you earlier in the day. Jobs like the one you did today always put you on edge, no matter how many times you did it. Unlike the rest of them, it took you hours to fully relax and admit safety enough to let your guard down. You would never call Hongjoong carefree, but he did have a habit of trying to jump you the moment you were a safe distance away. Hongjoong leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Are you asking me to take you on the hood of this car? Because trust me, darling, I would.” Shivers his your spine once again, but you weren’t quite down bantering yet. You turned your head away from him to look at the beat-up old motel and the deserted parking lot you sat in. Motioning to it all you replied.

“Is this the most romantic place you could find?” You ask, each word oozing with how unimpressed you were by the scenery. At that Hongjoong placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to look at the millions of shining stars once again. You could feel his next words before they came.

“I don’t know, I think I did a pretty good job.”

It’s true, looking straight up and nowhere else gave the impression that you were sitting on the top of a mountain, the entire world below you and nothing but heaven above. Cheesy, but effective.

Hongjoong accurately assumed your silence meant he had won. Pushing you by your shoulder till your back hit the cool metal, your eyes stayed trained on the sky above. Your legs hung over the front of the car, pushed up only slightly till you lay with most of your body on the hood. Hongjoong’s moonlight face still hung in your peripheral, hanging over you slightly.

You stared straight into the sky as Hongjoong slung his body over yours, trapping your hips to the metal with his own.

“Please tell me you're not going to be super dramatic about this?” You as with your last dreg of defiance. He smirked at you.

“Babe, this is going to be the most dramatic moment of your life.”

And with that, Hongjoong leaned down over you, connecting your lips with a heated kiss. Your arms automatically slung around his neck, pulling him closer. Your breath hitched almost immediately, feeling all strength leave your body as you melted into the kiss. Hongjoong took time to switch between a long slow-paced drag of his lips across yours, to nipping and sucking gently at your bottom lip as he pleased. The air no longer seemed like a necessity, when staying like this forever got more and more appealing.

Running his lips down to your jaw you almost rolled your eyes when you felt Hongjoong suck a rather impressively sized hickey right onto the underside of your jaw. It would perfectly match the fading ones that dotted your collar bones and the base of your neck, though the placement of this one would be much more visible.

Hongjoong’s hand took hold of your waist, slipping his fingers under the hem of your shirt and pushing it to bunch up over your chest, exposing you to the cool night air. He hadn’t removed it completely, but nonetheless he leaned back to admire. The ghost of a smirk wormed its way onto his lips as he ran his soft fingertips along the marks he gave you.

Staring at the ones lower on your stomach, trailing up your body with feather light touches. Your eyes screwed shut when he brushed over the ones on your breast. The bra you had been wearing today was nothing special, if not a little plain, but you could barely stand the heat of his gaze as it traveled up your body along with his hand.

Eventually, he reached the newest addition to the collection of purple splotches on your body. Cupping your cheek with his hand he urged your eyes open.

“I go through all this work to get you out under the stars and here you are with your eyes closed. That’s rude of you.” He stated with an exaggerated frown.

“It’s rude to tease,” you tried to sound as playful as him, but it came out as more of a whine. He giggled at you and carried on.

“I’m not teasing, I’m admiring. Now let me continue or you’ll get nothing.” He replies sternly. The mood suddenly shifting as the sparkle in his eye shifted to a darker hungrier look. You gulped slightly before letting your head fall back against the metal to stare up at the sky again. You felt Hongjoong’s mouth on your body again. His warm lips giving new life to some of the more faded marks on your chest. The cool air suddenly felt incredibly hot as your boyfriend's hands ran up and down your sides, occasionally stopping to squeeze whatever flesh he could grasp. Each time pulled another sound past your lips, although you did your best to muffle them.

“You look so pretty like this baby,” he remarked, barely pulling away, “I want to hear how pretty you sound too.”

It wasn’t spoken like a command, but you took it as one. Letting your mouth hang open in a moan when Hongjoong took one of your breasts in his palm, kneeling it slightly before pulling your bra down just enough to free it. He wasted no time in dragging his tongue over your nipple, then sweeping back down to suck a mark directly on the underside of your boob.

Your legs clenched together as he worked, the small amount of friction it gave in your shorts only served to drive you to more extremes when you rolled your hips against his. You groaned startlingly loud at that, the sensation of his hard dick pressing against your core even through the denim of both your pants pulled wetness from your core quicker than you would ever care to admit.

Hongjoong pulled away with a laugh, sitting up straight to look down at your already keening expression.

“Calm down baby, we have all night. No need to rush.” He chuckled at you. Despite his words, he took almost immediate action, running his hands up your bare thighs till his fingers hook on the waistband of your shorts. He pulled them down, but only just enough. Slipping his hand between your legs to cup your heat, while palming himself over his jeans. You whined again and clamped your legs around his hand, holding it in place. Despite your body’s subconscious efforts, he slid his finger over your cunt through your damp underwear.

Under any other circumstances, it would have been incredibly embarrassing how wet he made you from just touches to your body, but at the moment all you could think about was how desperately you wanted him to continue.

“Your soaking wet already, it feels like cheating with how quickly your body reacts to me.” He mutters, pressing two fingers against your hole, with nothing but a thin scrap of fabric keeping them from pushing inside you.

“Hongjoong, please fuck me. I’m begging you.” You groan, rolling your hips against his hand repeatedly. He broke out in a wide smile.

“I like the sound of you begging. Do it again for me.” He commands, voice laced with honey. You took a shuddering breath, turning your eyes to meet his with a pleading look.

“Please, I need you to fuck me.” You beg with all the desperation you have.

“Oh course baby, all you had to do was ask.” He lilts, tilting his head to the side with a sickly sweet smile.

Hongjoong pulled his hand from your core, which left an unhappy feeling in your stomach. But he used said hand to assist in pulling his dick free of his pants which spurred your legs even further apart. Your hands had been hanging uselessly at your side since this all began but as he leaned over your body once again, staring straight down into your wanton face, your hands flung themselves behind his shoulder to hang off of him.

Hongjoong pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, running it through your folds twice, watching as your face shifted from bliss to desperation each time he almost slipped in. And of course, he laughed. But that was the last bit of torture he gave you before sinking into your cunt.

Your synchronized groans sounded throughout the empty parking lot when he finally filled you to the hilt. And with his own patients starting to run as thin as yours he wasted no time in pulling out and thrusting again.

Your back arched more each time he pushed into you, feeling him stretching your walls and brush against the most sensitive spots inside you made your toes curl. And as he began to build pace his deep pants and groans rang in your ears.

He was doing anything but going fast. Long hard and deep thrusts shook your body in a steady rhythm. Your nails dig into his shoulders through his shirt and your mouth hung open as he fucked into you.

“Come on baby, you're not that far gone already are you?” His voice carried a teasing tone, but his own breath had gone shaky. You both stared into each other’s faces, watching each other’s expressions shift with bliss at every thrust. You were moaning and whining freely now. Words have failed you.

You felt the muscles on Hongjoong’s shoulder strain beneath your fingers, and with your orgasm fast approaching your nails practically clawed down his back. Hongjoong hissed above you, but the action did nothing but spur him on.

“Your gonna cum baby? Gonna cum already on my cock? How desperate you must be, to let a criminal have his way with you like this.” He growled the words down at you. His words shot to your core, making you clench around him, with a whine you forced words past your lips.

“I don’t care, just want you.” The words were barely a whisper. But the effect was the same. With a ringing cry, you came undone underneath him. You shook and threw your head back, staring directly into the stars above you. Your body moved of its own accord, but that was all beyond you. The only thing you could think about was the look on Hongjoong’s stunning face as he came hovering above you.

You both basked in the feeling of waves of pleasure rolling over your bodies. Continuing to grind against each other subconsciously as you rode it out.

The cool air returned with a nip. Hongjoong had all but collapsed above you. As you came back to reality the cold metal of the car suddenly felt so comfortable you could fall asleep right there. You felt your eyes being to drift shut.

“Oh no baby, I’m taking you to bed for real this time.” Hongjoong chuckled, pulling himself up to look down at you again. He gave a small smile at your pout.

“Your pretty cute for a dangerous criminal.”

You gathered up the last of your strength to hit him on the shoulder.

-

and this my friends is why I dont make a habit of writing longer things, they just get away from me.

I meant for this to be a short hot sexy lil thing and it turned into this long ass sappy thing

[siswritesyanderes]

Ok but yandere carlise x reader x yandere esme

(Not as detailed as I’d hoped to make it, but I quickly realized that if I went into detail then this thing would become very long. Hopefully avoided making the characters too OOC. Let me know if you like it, and how I did!)

…

You first met Dr. Cullen when you spent the day volunteering at the local hospital for one of your college classes.

There was a whole group of students there to help out, and you honestly weren’t sure why he seemed to notice you in particular; it certainly wasn’t because you were doing such a great job. Your work speed, in restocking the closets, was roughly average, and you kept having to ask your fellow volunteers where things were supposed to go. Granted, you at least weren’t one of the students who was transparently doing the absolute bare minimum to get the credit, but you wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a shining star of competence either.

Still, Dr. Cullen approached you personally to say, “Thank you for your help. You’re really doing us a great service.”

He was a beautiful man, with warm eyes that seemed to be beholding the goodness in your soul, for how amiably they glimmered.

“I don’t know if I can take any credit,” you said, admittedly flustered by the attention. “It was our teacher’s idea.”

He smiled kindly. “Nevertheless, we’re glad to have you here.”

You smiled back. “Glad to be here.” Then you continued working.

When Carlisle walked away from you, he carefully kept the reluctance from showing in his expression. He sent Esme a quick text warning her that they might have another soulmate in town: a human. His initial thought was that this would be the end of it; so long as Esme avoided meeting you, she wouldn’t feel the awful desperation currently clawing its way up Carlisle’s throat, and so long as Esme wasn’t suffering, Carlisle was confident in his own ability to let you live your own life, just as he had done with Esme, at first…

But then, he knew how that had turned out for her: years of pain, mistreatment…The thought of anything of the sort befalling you…The world was so dangerous, between humans and vampires and other such things, and you, so small in comparison, so vulnerable…

Carlisle regained his composure (though, to the untrained eye, he hadn’t lost it in the first place). The world could be dangerous, yes, but his awareness of that fact was informed, in no small part, by the fact that he wanted justification for keeping you. And he couldn’t give himself such license; it wouldn’t be right.

He wouldn’t drag you away from your human life.

Perhaps he could keep watch over you, and do you small favors every now and then, but that was the most he could afford to indulge.

He heard your stomach growl from across the room; he detoured to a vending machine and bought you a light snack. (Perfectly timed, Alice texted him your preference. No doubt, she was scouring the future to see how you might fit into it; he would have to have a talk with her, to be sure she didn’t go overboard. And deciding to have a talk with Alice functioned in the same way having a talk with Alice did.)

Dr. Cullen handed you a snack from the vending machine, which puzzled you at first; it didn’t seem like the hospital was handing out food to anyone else, and even if they were, why would one of the doctors take the time for such a thing?

He answered your unspoken question with a polite smile and the words, “You were looking a bit faint; I thought you might need this.”

Had you been looking unwell? You didn’t think you felt that bad, but a doctor would recognize the signs if something was wrong, and you were pretty hungry. “Thanks,” you said, and he dipped his head in your direction. Then he and his kind smile departed.

That wasn’t the last time you met Dr. Cullen.

Your paths crossed in all sorts of places: in the grocery store, he tapped you on the shoulder once to ask if you’d dropped a hundred dollar bill, and he urged you to keep it even once you’d told him it wasn’t yours; you saw him in your school’s science building, one day (He was there to speak to one of the professors, and he asked you if you had drunk any water recently.); and you even ran into him at the library. All incidents spaced out over weeks; not close enough together to really be coincidences worth thinking about. You figured that you had probably crossed paths just as much before meeting him, but only noticed now because you knew who he was.

Anyway, the two of you remained acquaintances. He was a nice man.

When someone slammed into your car, a few months later, he was the doctor who cared for you.

“A hit and run?” he murmured, tutting in displeasure as he moved a light across your eyes. “People should be more considerate, and careful with other people’s lives. You could have been seriously hurt.”

“They probably just made a mistake and were scared of the consequences,” you offered, because the doctor genuinely seemed somewhat upset. You were trying to assume the best about the other driver, because the alternative was getting angry about something you couldn’t change. You had barely even seen the car that had hit you. You just knew that it was some shade of yellow, and apparently much stronger than yours. “I wish we’d gotten to trade insurance information or something, though; my car is apparently totaled.” Despite your best efforts, your voice wavered.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Dr. Cullen said, and you were probably delirious, but something about the decisive way he said it made it seem, to you, as if he himself planned on helping you get your car fixed. “Follow the light with your eyes.”

You did.

“Have you...” The doctor seemed to choose his words carefully. “Have you called anyone, to let them know what happened, and that you’re alright?”

“No, I guess I haven’t. The ambulance got there so fast, I guess I didn’t have time to think about it.” You weren’t terribly concerned, though; if your relatives hadn’t been made aware of the crash, then they didn’t know to be worried yet. No need to call them now.

Dr. Cullen stilled at your words, though; the light in his hands shone in the spot between your eyes and did not move. It was as if he was deep in thought. No, as if he were at war with himself.

“Dr. Cullen?” you prompted.

He quickly smiled, setting down the light. “I think you should call them. Now, if you can. I would...just feel better if someone knew where you are, and that you’re alive.”

You called them (as awkward as that felt with the doctor right there in the room, patiently waiting), and Dr. Cullen seemed to relax.

Once you were released from the hospital, you went back to only seeing him every once in a while, around town.

Your car was mended seemingly overnight, under mysterious circumstances, and a part of you jokingly wondered if Dr. Cullen was some sort of fairy godmother, or guardian angel.

Then, another month after your accident, a stranger approached you while you were walking back from your last class of the evening.

“Hi,” the stranger greeted you, somewhat apologetically. She was shorter than you, with a lovely face and spiky black hair and a spritely disposition. “I’m Alice. I’m so sorry to bother you, but could you help me carry something to my car? It’s getting late, and I really don’t want to be here after dark.”

“Oh, sure,” you answered, feeling so at ease that you forgot every warning that would normally flood to your mind about the danger of following a stranger to her car. So at ease that your mind somehow just failed to observe the taller guy standing right next to Alice, well in your field of vision. You saw him, but you didn’t really think much of him.

You followed Alice to a bright yellow Porsche, and the shade of yellow stirred something in your memory, but you couldn’t say what; you were too busy looking for what you were supposed to be helping her lift.

A lovely woman with a long blond ponytail leaned against the car trunk, staring at something that she was holding in her hand, and there was a figure sitting inside the car, too; you couldn’t see them through the tinted windows, but you saw enough to be confused as to why you had been called here to help when it seemed Alice had many potential helpers, here.

Your panic, as you began to realize the ruse, had only just begun to climb when the blond woman suddenly moved, swift as a bird, behind you, and there was a hand over your mouth and a feeling like a pinch in the side of your neck.

The thing she was holding. It was a syringe.

The tall guy (the one you hadn’t thought much of, at first) moved to open the nearest door of the Porsche; he moved the passenger seat forward, to access the back row of seats.

“Wait, stop,” you slurred against the hand (the stunningly cold hand) over your mouth, as the woman who had syringed you began to maneuver you into the Porsche with surprising strength. You were already losing control of your limbs.

“This is officially the worst thing I’ve ever done,” the woman griped as she slid you carefully inside, then climbed in behind you. You were sandwiched between her and the person you’d seen through the tinted windows: a sulking young man with bronze hair. Four strangers total, and you were in the back seat of their car.

“Thank you, Rosalie, for your help,” Alice said resolutely. “Will you drive, Jazz?”

The tall one nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat while Alice occupied the passenger side.

You struggled to find your voice, or your fists, through the haze of sedative.

“It’s okay,” said the sulking young man at your side, in a surprisingly gentle voice. “I’m able to hear you, even if you can’t speak. I can read minds.”

“The human is still awake?” Rosalie said.

“Not for much longer, but yes. You have time to apologize.”

“Sorry about all this,” Rosalie said, gently nudging your mouth closed (as it had fallen open). “Don’t be scared; we just…have to bring you to Carlisle and Esme. They’re pretty great people, and they’ll treat you really well. And these guys were going to do it anyway, so I had to come and make sure things went smoothly. Alice and Jasper can’t even administer a shot; they probably would have chloroformed you or something-”

“Wouldn’t’ve had to,” said the tall guy in the driver’s seat- Jasper, apparently. “Could’ve just lightly flicked the back of their head at the right angle. Provided Alice checked the future to make sure we did it right.”

“…and didn’t cause a concussion, or worse,” the bronze-haired one deadpanned.

There was a brief silence. You were sinking against the self-proclaimed mind reader, unable to support your own weight. You were about to sleep. You actually wanted to sleep.

“Don’t worry, Rose,” Jasper added. “I’ve made sure the human isn’t afraid.”

You supposed you weren’t. Why weren’t you?

You fell asleep before you could figure it out.

…

You awoke to the sound of agitated voices, outside the (closed) door of a bedroom that was not your own.

You were in a bed, and it was obscenely soft and pleasant, but it wasn’t yours, and you weren’t home.

Where am I?

You felt weak, and tired. Heavy, confused. But you had to stay awake, and regain your wits, because you had been taken somewhere, and you didn’t know where or why. There was a window across the room. It was nighttime outside the window. Maybe if you could make it over there, you could climb out and run for it, but you didn’t yet have the strength to even get the bedcovers off of you.

“Because it’s been awful to watch how badly it affects you to be away from your mate,” one of the voices outside the door was saying. “All five of us agreed, and we never agree on anything!”

“And it’s not like it wouldn’t have happened eventually,” another voice agreed. “Just like with Esme.”

“Exactly! You were only prolonging your own suffering, for no reason.”

There was a sigh, and a familiar voice said, “Are you all finished?” It was Dr. Cullen; that much you knew, even though you had never heard him sound so tired.

“We did it for you, because you deserve happiness.”

“And now that Esme has seen them, there is no way to undo it, is there?” Dr. Cullen asked rhetorically. “Edward, is the human awake?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll bring some food up, Carlisle,” an entirely new voice suggested. “The children have been…underhanded, today, but there’s no reason we shouldn’t make the best of it.”

“It was for the best.” (Your head was clear enough, now, that you recognized this unabashed voice as belonging to Alice.) “You’ll see.”

Footsteps approached the door, and shortly a woman entered the room. She was soft-looking, with caramel brown hair, and she held a dinner plate in her hands.

“Good evening,” she said, soberly. Sitting on the edge of your bed while you struggled to sit up. “I’m so sorry the kids did this; we didn’t ask them to, but they thought they were doing us a service. I’m Esme Cullen, Dr. Cullen’s wife. Here: eat something.”

You ate a forkful of pasta only because it was too close to your mouth to refuse. “Why ‘m I here?” you asked hoarsely. “Take me home.” Another forkful slid into your mouth.

“I’m very sorry,” Esme said. “I’m so, so sorry, but you see…the trouble is…” Her eyes scanned over you, and she smiled a seemingly involuntary smile and didn’t finish her sentence. As if looking at you was simply a much better use of her time.

“I want to go home,” you said.

Esme sighed, pressing her lips together contritely. “The trouble is, I can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to Carlisle, and Carlisle can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to me. I promise you, though, we will make it up to you.” She fed you more pasta.

It tasted delicious, but that did nothing to assuage your terror. “You don’t even know me. What do you mean, I’m important to you?”

Esme clicked her tongue softly and rhythmically against the roof of her mouth, as if to soothe. “Carlisle can explain that better than I. But rest assured, everything is going to be alright.”

Your skin crawled, at the dissonant cordiality. “Where is Dr. Cullen?”

You heard a flutter of what could have been footsteps, if people were capable of moving that fast. Then, the bedroom door opened again and Dr. Cullen entered.

“Hello again, dear heart,” he greeted you, and his demeanor was about the same as it was in public, or in the hospital. Respectful, polite. Maybe just a bit...off. Too much of something, maybe too polite and kind for the circumstances. “I’m terribly sorry about all of this.”

The apologies were making this worse. “You don’t have to be sorry,” you said. “Just please take me home.”

“I can’t do that, angel,” he sighed. He did appear sorry, but not as sorry as he should have. “But I can explain everything to you now.”

He sat down on the other side of the bed, opposite Esme, who was still feeding you. And he did explain everything, in such expansive detail that you fell back asleep before he even got to the part about mates.

…

“You can pretend with them, but not with me.” The voice was quiet, and not so much accusatory (despite the pointedness of his words) as reminding.

“I know that, son.” Dr. Cullen sounded positively serene.

“You knew how much time you were spending with Jasper, in your saddened state.”

“Yes.”

“You knew that we would do this.”

“I…suspected.”

“You meant for us to do this.”

“That’s enough, I think. Thank you.”

Silence fell.

You opened your eyes just a crack. The pillow beneath your face was awash with yellow light; the sun had risen, since last you’d fallen asleep. None of it had been a dream. You were still trapped in a house with these people who thought they were vampires. You closed your eyes again. The two voices had been speaking from the direction you were facing: Dr. Cullen at your level, perhaps in a chair at your bedside; and the other above, as if standing.

“One month,” the first voice suddenly added, and you weren’t sure what it was in reference to. It was as if an inaudible question was being answered.

“That’s her optimistic guess, or her pessimistic?” Dr. Cullen inquired.

“If all goes well, it will be one month. Poorly, and the longest she’s seen is three months.”

“Well, that is good to hear. I’ve waited much longer with hope for much less.”

“I know.”

You turned over, so that your back was to them, and began to open your eyes again, but then you heard Dr. Cullen rise from his seat, take up the chair, and move around the foot of the bed. You kept your eyes shut as he set his chair down on the new side and sat in it once more. He did all of this matter-of-factly, as if he’d changed sides every time you’d turned over during the night.

The thought of anyone wanting to see your face that badly made you shiver a bit.

“Awake?” Dr. Cullen inquired casually. You didn’t hear an answer, but the other man must have nodded, because Dr. Cullen continued, “Good. Esme will be done with breakfast soon. She’s so happy to be cooking again.”

“Jasper is in the kitchen with her,” the other said, as if that was a related statement somehow. “I’m going hunting. Good luck.”

You weren’t sure why, but you felt as if he was talking to you as much as Dr. Cullen.

[wkemeup]

Little Lion Man

summary: Sent on an assignment back to 1943, you encounter a drastically different version of the man you know pairing: bucky x reader warnings: time travel, a charming af 40s!bucky 😉, a sad af present!bucky 😔 a/n: I used the time travel logic from Endgame except fixed points exist. This was also written for @buckysknifecollection​‘s 1k challenge! I had the song prompt of Little Lion Man by Mumford and Sons! Congrats on 1k hun!!

Weep little lion man, You're not as brave as you were at the start

You found blue eyes lighting up across the crowded courtyard, beaming smile touched on the dirt freckled glow of his face, and it startled you; stilled you right in your tracks and set a stone deep into your chest, made it hard to breathe, because that wasn’t the man you knew.

No—he wore a weightlessness about him, even as he stepped away from the crowd erupting in celebration and shied to the outskirts of the commotion, he was smiling. It wrinkled up by his eyes, left behind dimples in his cheeks, a slight shake of his head as small wisps of hair fell down to his forehead. 

He didn’t seem to be counting each moment of joy on his fingers, calculating how much relief he allowed for himself before the shadows came rushing back in to take it away. He was... happy.

Dark army green was torn like rags as his shirt barely hung off his shoulder, exposing the blood and grime covering his skin beneath. Silver dog tags hung at his sternum; muted in their color, lacking the shine they once possessed, though they chimed against one another with each of his steps. He settled outside the Colonel’s tent and as he slouched to the wooden post, they fell behind his shirt. The last remaining tie to his identity nestled by his heart.

You could spot the trail of blood from his left ear, a light scruff covering his cheeks and jawline, bruising under his eyes from a lack of sleep and over exhaustion, but it was his hair that drew your attention; short, swept over his forehead and parted to the right. Its messy strands that did nothing to cover his eyes even as he dropped his chin to his chest and lit the cigarette he’d nestled between his lips.

You knew who he was, heard stories from Steve and read the articles hung in the Smithsonian; stories of what he was like in his youth, before the fall, before Hydra twisted and warped his mind and mutilated his body. And yet, none of it prepared for the laugh that echoed through the courtyard as he waved at an old friend at the center of the crowd surrounded by men who once mocked him, now lifting him on their shoulders for bringing hundreds of their men home alive.

It was him, and it wasn't.

Your Bucky.

You almost forgot why you were standing on a military base in a newly Allied Italian war front in 1943 as Bucky shook the hand of a soldier as he passed by. You recognized him from the drawings on Steve’s desk and the old faded photo album shoved into Bucky’s nightstand drawer.

Dum Dum Dugan.

He was taller than you pictured, rougher around the edges too, but he had a kind smile and a laughter that bolstered through the camp.

It was like a scene from the film clips they used to show you in school; ones of soldiers huddled around campfires in the middle of a war zone, reminding you how incredibly human these men were, that they weren’t just numbers in a fatalities list. They were real and significant in their entirety. They had hopes and dreams, fears and families.

Focus! This isn’t a field trip, you reminded yourself sharply, the words of Director Fury echoing in your head.

There was a file located in the Colonel’s office, the contents of which well above your clearance level, though it wasn’t your business to know what it contained or why Fury decided to risk sending an agent back to a war two of the Avengers’ current members barely survived. You were a part of SHIELD long before you were an Avenger, so you knew how to follow the chain of command. You didn’t ask questions.

Get the file. Get the hell home.

But you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Bucky.

He was laughing again, taking another drag of a cigarette you’d never once seen him smoke in your time as he talked with another one of the Commandos. Jim Morita, you thought. He seemed happy, relieved even, and as Jim made his way to the nurses’ tent, Bucky pushed the lighter into his pocket, pulled the cigarette from his lips with a puff of smoke, and paused.

He narrowed his eyes in your direction, a slight tilt of his head, and you realized your mistake when ocean blue caught you staring from across the open green. A smile slowly curved up broken lips and your stomach plummeted because suddenly he was jogging towards you, dog tags bouncing against his chest with every step he took and there was nowhere for you to escape.

You shoved your gun to the waistband of your pencil skirt and draped the back of your jacket to conceal it. It wouldn’t be surprising for you to be carrying a weapon, not with the uniform you wore indicating you were on rank with the likes of Peggy Carter, but it wasn’t a gun Bucky would recognize. It was from your time, one you did not ever travel without, and the technological advancements wouldn’t be easy to explain.

When Bucky reached you, he pulled to a slow stop and casually ran his fingers through the short mess of hair, pushing it back to expose his eyes, the dirt lining the creases in his forehead, and the bruising above his brow. He tugged his lower lip between his teeth as he looked you over, eyes trailing down to your shoes before returning to your face, a heavy sigh on his breath and he leaned on the wall beside you.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you around, doll,” he said and even the tone of his voice seemed different from the man you knew. Lighter, maybe. Confident. Flirtatious.

He smirked, a whistle on his tongue and he seemed a little winded as he shook his head. You wondered if he felt your connection to him, knew the depths of your care for one another before he’d even met you, but you pushed the thought aside quickly.

Wistful thinking.

“Don’t think you’ve been around for a while, Sergeant,” you replied steadily, because even though your heart was racing and your stomach was twisted to knots, you were still an agent and you knew how to manage your emotions and keep your panic hidden behind the surface.  

“I guess you saw the welcome wagon, huh?” he chuckled, turning back to the crowd as they continued to gather around Steve.

It was almost as strange to see Steve from this time as it was Bucky. He had the same kind of innocence that the Bucky standing before you carried now. He hadn’t lost his best friend yet, hadn’t made the decision to trade his life for the people of New York and bury himself in the Atlantic, hadn’t missed out on a lifetime with a woman he cared so deeply for, could even grow to love.

Bucky faced you again and you saw it in his eyes, too.

It was hope, you realized. They were still holding onto it.

“Just glad you made it home safe, Sergeant Barnes,” you said evenly, trying not to focus on his left hand as it raked it through his hair. There was a scar on his palm that ran along his lifeline, red and angry and in need of treatment. There was dirt caked under his nails, in his knuckles, dried blood on his wrist, and you resisted every urge to reach out and grab it just to feel the pulse of his heart in his fingertips or maybe even the warmth of his skin.

You were used to cold and metal and you let yourself wonder what it would be like to be held by these hands, hands that were completely and entirely Bucky’s, hands that he didn’t despise and held away from you like it was something outside of himself, like it could act of its own accord and hurt the woman he wanted so desperately to touch with nothing but a tenderness he hadn’t known in decades.

“Please doll, it’s Bucky,” he requested cheekily. He waited for a response, though when he didn’t get one, he was unbothered by the silence.

He twisted the cigarette in his hand, twirling it like a baton and you were mesmerized by the way it danced through the fingertips of his left hand. It dropped ash as it flipped between his middle and index finger.

“So...” he drawled, amused by your trance, “do I have the honor of your name as well?”

You snapped your eyes away from his hand to find that smirk across his face again. It was one that felt strange to you, foreign almost, from the Bucky you knew. It was confident, charming, but there wasn’t a trace of arrogance or presumption. It was the smirk of a man who could still manage to flirt with a woman moments after returning to a camp he was captured from weeks prior. He was quite proud of himself and it read on his face.

“Y/n,” you finally admitted, watching him carefully as he repeated your name, testing it on his lips, and it still sounded like honey and silk. It seemed to be one of the few things that felt constant between these versions of Bucky; your name on his lips, in his voice, as he smiled at you. It was still as sweet.

“Y/n is a lovely name,” he said, “suiting for a lovely woman.”

Steve had mentioned this Bucky was a charmer in stories of their youth. Each time it was brought up, your Bucky would shake his head, roll his eyes, maybe even blush a little as he sank down into the couch as Steve recounted the dates he used to go on, the women he’d bring to Coney Island, the dance moves that could make any woman swoon.

You’d ask him about it, tease him as to why he didn’t take you dancing and win you comically large stuffed animals with his unparalleled marksmanship. He’d brush it off and say it was all luck of the draw but you know better than that. He was a flirt in these days and as handsome as ever, even with blood dripping from his ear and scars on his face. You couldn’t imagine a woman who would turn down a man as charming and beautiful as he was.

You wondered how much Bucky remembered of these days, if he could still recall the one-liners and the flirty comments, or if it felt distant, like he was watching something outside of himself, standing behind a glass wall and simply observing.

He was sweet with you, teased you behind closed doors and made your heart soar, but you couldn’t imagine a world where he would seek you out amongst a crowd, not knowing your name or face and flirt so openly like this.

Your Bucky retreated to corners of crowded rooms with a drink in his hand that did little to relieve him from the anxiety in his veins. He nursed a bourbon as he sought out open spaces away from the overstimulation of music, chatter, glasses on bar tops. 

He was quiet, reserved, and favored whispering jokes in your ear that would have you rolling with laughter over saying them aloud for the room to hear. There was an intimacy in it and you were thankful for every glimpse he gave you past the demons who had come to obstruct his heart.

But this, this Bucky, the light-hearted charmer with a world of pain ahead of him, was not a man you ever expected to encounter firsthand.

Over his shoulder, a group of men called his name. He rolled his eyes, trying to wave them off but they only yelled louder, hollering and whistling as he tried to shield you from their teasing.

“I suppose I’m being summoned,” he grunted reluctantly.

You glanced back to his friends, Dugan, Jim, and Steve among them as they waved frantically at him. A smile etched to your cheeks, knowing that this was his element, beside Steve when he didn’t have the shadows cast over him and he could live in a moment where he just might see himself as one of the good guys.

“Yes, I suppose you are,” you smiled at him, enjoying the way his brows pinched together as he shot a glare back over in his friends’ direction before he turned back to you and let his features soften again.

“Will I see you around?” he asked, hopeful and eager, and it took you by surprise.

You didn’t know what else to say so you nodded, eyes glancing to the Colonel’s office. You had a mission to complete. It was the reason you were sent back to this timeline in the first place. It had caused enough problems when Fury assigned you; Steve arguing as to the necessity of it, Bucky leaving the room abruptly without another word. You hadn’t even been able to track him down before you left and you’d never once gone on a mission without saying goodbye to him.

You supposed that for him it may only be a few seconds, but you didn’t know how long you’d be stuck in 1943. You missed him terribly, even when he was standing right in front of you.

“I’ll find you again, then,” he said with a wink. He put the cigarette between his lips again, thought he didn’t light it, and jogged back to his friends. He paused halfway, turned back to you with a simple salute, a shake of his head like he was surprised you’d gone along with his flirting, and then, his back was to you.

Tears burned in your eyes before you felt the lump in your throat.

For a moment, it was easy to forget that he was just coming off of weeks behind enemy lines, that he already had the serum running like toxins in his veins; the same Hydra concoction that would save his life when he fell from the train a few weeks later and would allow him to survive long enough to endure decades of torture.

You knew this Bucky carried demons, that he wore a mask the way everyone else did. You knew that there were times that he smiled just long enough for someone to notice before they turned away and his eyes fell downcast to the floor. You knew that he joked and flirted and laughed because how else was a man drafted to a war he never signed up for supposed to cope with the blood on his hands.

They were different masks than the ones the Bucky you knew carried, but they still shielded the pain underneath. The masks you were familiar with were overflowing and demons seeped through the cracks and broke into his soft moments of relief. They were weathered and breaking in your time but he still tried to wear them, still tried to put on a brave face despite the monsters in his dreams and swarming in his past.

This Bucky could still hide his demons.

This Bucky, who smiled so easily, was almost nothing like the man you knew.

But he will be.

Your heart broke for the time in between.

***

Seventy-two hours. That’s how long Fury said you’d need to obtain the file. Seventy-two hours maximum. A load of bullshit that turned out to be because two weeks later you were still trapped in the heart of a world war.

You’d managed to avoid Bucky as much as possible, though that proved rather easy as he’d gone off with Steve and the rest of the Howling Commandos liberating Europe and punching Nazis. But the times in between, when they returned home and regrouped for a day or two, he’d spend his first hour at camp seeking you out while the rest of his team was catching up on sleep.

He was persistent, you’d give him that, but he was never forceful. He’d simply talk with you as you tended to the tasks assigned to the cover you were portraying. He’d lounge out on the grass while you cleaned weapons or follow you through the bunker as you alphabetized personnel files, asking you questions about your day, trying to convince you to get dinner with him at the mess hall, telling you dramatically inflated stories of his heroism on the battlefield that made your stomach ache with laughter.

You understood why Steve was so determined to help Bucky get back to how he was before Hydra. He was incredibly endearing, outgoing, witty. Your Bucky still had those things but they were in pieces, strung together with scotch tape and staples. They were muted a little, but they were still there, scratching at the surface.

It had been a few days since you saw Bucky last and you found him again as you walked right into the square of his chest on your way out of the Colonel’s office, file absent in your hand because yet another day had gone by without any sign of the document.

Hands quickly dart out to grab onto your forearms and he chuckled lightly under his breath, steadying you on heels you were entirely not used to wearing; an era appropriate necessity, Tony told you. You would have like to throw one at his head right about then.

“You alright there, sweetheart?” Bucky grinned, stepping back to give you space. 

He had a few new scrapes and marks on his face, but otherwise he looked unharmed. His smile was enough to tell you he hadn’t been injured enough to require medical attention. There wasn’t a pinch in his brow indicating pain, at least.

He brushed his hands off on the thighs of his pants and judging by the mud on his boots and the rifle draped over his shoulder, he hadn’t even made it back to his tent before he came in search of you.

“Of course, Sergeant Barnes,” you replied and despite the way he was smiling so sweetly at you, teeth biting down on his lip, you swerved around him towards your own tent.

“Call me Bucky,” he reminded you, stepping aside for you to pass, though he followed your pace.

“Well, Bucky,” you said, clenching your hands, “it’s good to see you safe. You should get to the med tent, don’t you think?”

“Later,” he shrugged, waving you off, cheesy smile on his lips. “I wanted to see my best girl first.”

It punctured right to your chest and though you knew he was teasing, that he was flirting innocently and smiling when he could be giving into the harsh realities of war, it hurt. It hurt because you saw pieces of your own Bucky in him and knives embedded and broken through skin with every laugh, every smile, every word he said, because you knew how quickly it will be taken away, how hard it will be just for him to find small pieces of this and let his guard down long enough to let even Steve in again, let alone you.

There was a guilt that festered and boiled deep in your stomach, that physically ached and burned. You knew too much about his future, about the things that will happen to him that would rip that sweet smile from his face and turn him inside out, until it took decades just to find the will to live again. You could hardly look at him without tears springing to your eyes.

You thought about telling him, about warning him of what would come and maybe create a new timeline where he was free from Hydra, where he might go home from the war and see his mother and sister again, maybe meet a woman he could love and have a few kids. But then you remembered Tony’s warning, that certain events were fixed and what happened to Bucky that day on the train, would never be changed. There was too much history riding on it.

Your sweet Bucky was fated to Hydra from the start.

"There’s a dance tonight, you know.”

Your heels dug into the grass and brought you to an abrupt stop, balance wavering somewhat as you held your arms out to the side. Bucky chuckled, that smile of his so bright it was almost blinding and he quickly jogged back to you. He offered a hand and you took it just long enough to pry your heels from the dirt.

You tried not to focus on the feel of it; the callouses on his palms or the grip of his fingers, the warmth in his hand or the fact that it was made of flesh and not solid metal. You let go as soon as you were able, though he didn’t seem to take any offense.

“Just a few of the guys are going,” he continued to say, pushing his hands into his pockets. He seemed nervous as he swayed in his stance and brushed his hand through his hair. “Thought it could be fun and, well, don’t know the next time I’ll get the chance to ask a pretty girl to dance with me.”

A pink rose in his cheeks, light and flushed, and it surprised you.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sergeant Barnes,” you said slowly, voice almost a whisper and his smile didn’t falter for even a moment.

“Bucky,” he reminded you again. So persistently charming.

“Bucky,” you repeated, “I don’t think it’s--”

“When was the last time you did somethin’ for fun, doll?” Bucky whined playfully, slumping his shoulders until you swatted him on the arm. He rubbed at it with a laugh in his voice. “I promise it’ll be a good time. You have my word.”

“I have work to attend to,” you argued, though your resolve was fading quickly. You never liked saying no to Bucky, even from your time, but it was the innocence, the hope, intertwined in shades of blue that made it that much harder.

“Come on, darlin’,” Bucky smiled sweetly at you, a crack in his lips and a bruising on his cheekbones, still as beautiful as he’s always been, “we’re shipping out to the Alps tomorrow and I don’t know when I’ll see you next. Just one dance, doll, and I swear I won’t ask you for anything else in my life.”

Your heart skipped. “The alps?”

Bucky nodded, pursing his lips. He lost his playful smile for only a minute as it melded into the solemn, determined expression of the soldier you’d seen memorials painted of alongside brick buildings in Brooklyn.

“We were able to confirm Zola’s on a Schnellzug traveling along the Danube River,” he said, quite proud. “We’re gonna bring the bastard in and put an end to this war.”

Your throat was dry, like sandpaper and dust, stones filling your chest, and you kept your features as blank as you could manage but everything inside you was on fire. He seemed so pleased, eager almost, and you felt your stomach lurch.

“Whaddya say?” he asked, a slight tremor in his voice for the first time and you turned to find him nervously chewing on his lip. “Fulfill a soldier’s dying wish?”

“Okay,” you blurted out hastily, biting down on the inside of your cheek because he didn’t know the gravity of what he just asked. You clenched your hands to fists at your side, nails digging into your palms until it stung, but you were well trained and you hid it from him before he could notice.

“I’ll pick you up at eight?” he asked, slowly backing up to his tent with the widest smile you’d ever seen on his face. It wrinkled up by his eyes and stretched into his cheeks. So light, so unburdened from horrors that had not yet warped and twisted their way through his mind and body.

“Okay,” you replied again, unable to say much of anything else for the lump in your throat was starting to choke you.

Bucky disappeared into the camp and you were left standing in the open; tears burning in your eyes, slipping down past your lashes and over your cheekbones, knowing that by this time the following day, he’d be in the hands of Hydra.

***

You located the file an hour before Bucky was meant to pick you up. It sat on the edge of your cot, watching you, because you weren’t signaling Tony that it was time for you to come home. No—you were adorning rouge to your lips and curling your hair the way you’d seen in the movies Bucky liked from his youth, the transmitter hidden in your bag under the mattress.

An emerald dress swung at your hips, one that you’d borrowed from one of the exceptionally kind nurses. She seemed to be the only one who wasn’t glaring at you from across the room for daring to take the attention of the famed Sergeant Barnes and insisted you wear it since she was on shift for the evening anyway.

You slipped into the heels, brushing down the skirt of the dress and caught one last look in the mirror. The sleeves hung off your shoulders, exposing collarbone and a faded scar along your clavicle from a mission in Brussels six months prior. Bouncing curls pinned up from your neck and bright red upon your lips, you looked like a painted model in the posters hanging in the bar hall.

You wondered how your Bucky would feel to see you like this, if it would make him happy to be reminded of his youth, or if it would bring back memories too painful to let stir to the surface.

A knock rang on the post outside and you quickly pushed the file into your bag at the end of your bed. Out of sight and out of mind, at least for the next few hours.

“You ready, doll?” Bucky called from outside the tent as you started to make your way to the exit. “Steve’s been breaking my back all day saying you weren’t gonna show and I really need to prove him wro— oh wow.”

You stepped out from behind the flap of the tent, ducking under the low hanging ceiling and Bucky’s words seemed to die on his tongue. He pulled a lip between his teeth and eyes glanced down over you; not with a hunger, but instead with a genuine kind of awe. His smile was aching on his cheeks as he tried to bite it back.

“You look stunning,” he exhaled, shaking his head. “You’ll be the envy of every dame at the dance.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Sergeant,” you replied.

He wore his dress greens; dark olive overcoat with golden buttons down the center, two pockets at the breast, two at his hips, golden tie around his neck and a series of military badges in bright, vibrant colors along the right side of his chest. He looked like the images you’d seen in the Smithsonian; the man he tried so desperately to emulate; the one with honor and dignity, he said.  

Bucky offered you his arm, and you took it graciously. Your hand slipped around the crook of his elbow, holding onto muscle where you once only know metal, and he guided you down to the jeep at the edge of camp. There, Steve, Dugan, Morita, and a few of the other Commandos were there waiting.

Steve stood against the door of the jeep, a woman you easily recognized in a dark red dress at his side; Peggy Carter. Steve seemed surprised to see you on Bucky’s arm, but when he hung his head, he was smiling, like maybe he was pleased to lose his own bet.  

Bucky grinned, nudging your side before he turned to his friend. “Pay up Rogers!”

***

People were laughing, smiling, amongst the backdrop of a war that would almost certainly take the lives of half the men in this room. It was something of beauty to witness until it started to break your heart.

You’d spent nearly an hour on the dance floor with Bucky; letting him spin you around, lead you through dances you should have known if you had grown up in this era, though he paid it no mind. He liked teaching you, liked it when you stepped on his toes and grimaced apologetically at him. He liked seeing you flustered because you were not a woman who easily blushed. He enjoyed the twinge of embarrassment in your ears when you’d bump into a couple beside you and he’d quickly yank you back to his arms in a protective cage, the light rumble of his laugh in vibrations through his chest.

“I tried to tell you I’m no good at this, Bucky,” you said after a young couple on your left sent another glare in your direction for turning the wrong way in the middle of a Charleston Stroll.

“I don’t need you to be a good dancer, doll,” he smirked, pulling you impossibly close so that your chest was flush against his, the slow sway of your bodies in contrast to the fast-paced jives surrounding you. “All I wanted was an excuse to hold you like this.”

The music faded into long, melodic notes as your breath stilled in your lungs. The chaos around you fell into gentle motions as couples hung off of one another and the world seemed to come to a stop. You expected to find a teasing grin on his face, maybe even a hint of laughter, but there was sincerity in the blue of his eyes, a slight trace of longing because he knew what he was facing the next day on a train running through the ravines of a snowy mountain.

He smiled sweetly at you, carefully slipping your hand into his and guiding your other up to his shoulder. He set his right hand at the base of your back, fingers pressing into the soft curves like the keys of a piano, just feeling, and it reminded you of how your Bucky grounded himself in the worst of his nightmares; how he’d hold onto you, grip you so tightly he’d leave marks by the mornings that would ultimately add to his guilt, though they were colors on your skin you cherished. A physical symbol of his fight towards recovery.

You found yourself doing the same as you clasped at his left hand. With every dip of the beat and every sway of his body to yours, you squeezed at his hand; feeling for the slight give in the muscle, the warmth of flesh, the hard callouses on his palm. It was so real, so him, so tangible right in front of you and you felt tears prickle in your eyes.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” he asked quietly, noticing the trail of your gaze on his hand and the glossiness consuming your eyes.

You shook your head, brushing away the wetness on your cheeks and setting your hand back to his shoulder, though this time you curled up closer to him, focusing on the steady beat of his heart under his fingertips. “Nothing, honey.”

“’Honey’?” he repeated, chuckling a little under his breath. “You getting sweet on me, doll?”

You smiled, letting your head rest onto his shoulder, cheek brushing his collarbone. His hand started to run in smooth circles on your back, his nails traces shivering into your spine. It was something your Bucky did for you, to help ease the tension from your muscles.

“’Course not,” you replied in a breathy sigh, “I’ve got a fella, you know.”

"You don’t dance with me like you’ve got a man waiting on you,” Bucky retorted cheekily, though there was no jealousy in his voice, no resentment. He didn’t seem surprised, but he didn’t pull away either. He sighed, a heat of his breath brushing over your exposed neckline. “Tell me about him?”

You lifted your head from his shoulder, just long enough to caught sight of the tenderness with which he watched you. The corners of his lips curved up, only a little, before they fell again.

On some level, you wondered if he knew that he would never find even a semblance of normalcy in returning home from war, that he’d never settle down in the time that he knew and grow old and have children running around at his feet; that instead of showing up on his mother’s doorstep with bags in hand and a smile of relief, it would be two men dressed in uniform even he didn’t know, carrying an envelope that would break his mother’s heart.

You squeezed his left hand again, letting your right trace up along his jawline and cup the side of his face. He sighed, leaning into the touch. Clean shaven and smooth on his cheeks, decades younger.

“He’s a good man, even on his worst days,” you said tenderly. “He’s been through... so much, things that no one should ever have to experience. Anyone else might have crumbled under all that pain, but he’s still kind, still loving and impossibly sweet. He’s the best thing to ever happen to me though he argues against that most days.”

Bucky nodded, listening quietly as you continued.

“He’s handsome, like you, though his hair is longer, his shoulders a little broader with muscle,” you teased lightly and Bucky scoffed, feigning an offense, though he was smiling. “He’s quiet, different than he used to be, and there are always setbacks, always days where the pain outweighs all the good in his life, but doesn’t give into it. He’s a fighter, a survivor. He’s my best friend.”

“He take you dancing?” Bucky asked with a grin and you shook your head.

“No, not like this. Crowds aren’t easy for him.”

“He one of ours?”

A military man. He knew exactly what you were alluding to, so you nodded.

“Parts of him never came back from the war,” you confirmed, a frown pushing at your lips, “but he’s not broken. He’ll dance with me in the living room if I ask, let me hold him like this even when he feels like a stranger in his own skin. He tries, he heals. I know how hard it is for him to open up and I’m grateful for every moment he can let his walls down, if even for a second, and he shows me pieces of who he used to be, pieces of who he still is.”

A silence passed over the two of you, the music and the sight shuffling of feet around you taking over as you curled into Bucky’s side.

Bucky, but not your Bucky.

“You love him?”

Your relationship with Bucky was messy and complicated. You slept in the same bed most nights, pressed against one another to fight off the demons in his sleep, but you’d never touched him intimately, never so much as kissed his lips no matter how many times you’d wanted to. You met him in the ring and sparred until you were both aching and sweating, until you collapsed to the mat and talked for hours just staring up at the rafters. You were the first person he sought out when returning from a mission and it was his name you shouted for when you were surrounded behind enemy lines.

But there were darker forces between you; ones that kept him from letting himself open up completely, that kept him on the edge from you because Hydra was still in his mind, still convincing him he wasn’t worth the good in his life and he didn’t deserve to be treated with the affection and care with which you showed him.

Even when he kept you at a distance, he still held pieces of your heart, exposed and vulnerable in the palm of his hand.

“Yes,” you whispered, eyes darting to the collar of his shirt because you couldn’t dare to look him in the eye. You felt him squeeze at your hand, patterns on your back, and he pressed you closer to his chest; so perceptive of the heartache in your voice.

“Sounds like you might want to get home to him, huh?”

You shook your head, feeling embarrassed. “What? No, of course not. I’m-- I’m here to dance with you, right? You’re shipping out tomorrow for the alps and I—I owe you a dance, Barnes.”

Bucky chuckled. “Sweetheart, we’ve been dancing for hours. Look around, everyone’s practically gone home for the night.”

You narrowed your eyes, surprised, until you scanned the room to find that he was right; the dance floor was near empty and the staff had already begun cleaning up the refreshments table. Only the pianist remained on the stage, playing gentle melodies while his bandmates placed their instruments in their cases. He smiled at you, a short wink before he turned back to the pages of his sheet music.

Steve and Peggy were sitting by the bar, talking quietly with one another, unbothered by the lateness or the lack of party guests and the absence of alcohol beside them. Jim and Dum Dum must have hitched their own rides home because they were nowhere in sight, though a few stray men swaying on unbalances legs stumbled by the door.

“I’d say this was a pretty nice last go of it all,” Bucky sighed, a genuine smile on his face. “Zola’s not a threat physically. Can’t imagine we’ll have too much trouble bringing him in, but you never know, right? I couldn’t pass up an excuse to bring a beautiful woman to a dance.”

You bit down on your cheek until blood pooled in your mouth. You swallowed it back, tasting of copper and it burned on the way down.

“Certainly can’t blame you for that,” you replied, forcing your voice as steady as you could manage.

The pianist slowly brought the song to an end, chiming on the high end of the keys before closing the lid and stepping away. Bucky sighed, a nod the indicated that the magic of the night had ended and he moved to step away, but your hands darted out to the sides of his face.

“You’ll get through this,” you said sternly, adamantly, because he needed to hear it. The confusion read on his face though he didn’t question you. “You’re strong, Bucky. You’re brave. Please remember that.”

He narrowed his eyes, brow furrowed, though he nodded slowly.

You stepped back suddenly, letting your hands fall away from his face. It was a gesture too intimate for the man standing in front of you, one you’d done countless times for the man he’d ultimately become, and while he didn’t flinch at the touch, it surprised him. Perhaps it was the heartbreak on your face, the guilt, that confused him most.

“I--I should go,” you said quietly. “Thank you for the dance, Sergeant Barnes.”

“The pleasure was all mine, doll,” he replied, a soft smile etching up onto his features.

He was so young, so untouched by the damages that would be inflicted upon him; even after he’d already been captured and held by the same men who would break him from the inside out, he still carried a hope about him. He was different at the start of it all.

You loaded into the back of the jeep and Bucky slid in beside you. He kept his hand at his side, didn’t try to push into your space because, after all, you had someone waiting on you, but you could see the twinge in his fingertips, how he ached to hold your hand. It broke your heart.

At the end of the night, he walked you back to your tent. Hands shoved deep into his pockets and a tight smile on his face, he asked, “will I see you again?”

You thought again about telling him the truth, warning him that he wouldn’t find his way home for nearly seven decades and when he did, he’d be a changed man in a time he didn’t know. It wouldn’t change anything. Your Bucky had always gone through the horrors of what Hydra inflicted on him and what you did in this time wouldn’t affect that.

“Of course,” you replied with a smile light on your lips though you forced it into your cheeks. He sighed of relief. “I’ll be here waiting when you get back.”

“What about your man?” he inquired, a teasing grin and a raise of his eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you don’t believe in friendship, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Whatever you’ll give me, sweetheart,” he replied, smiling so wide it much have ached, and you tried to memorize the way it wrinkled up by the blue of his eyes. You wondered if you’d ever see him smile like that again, like the very act of it didn’t rip him to pieces.

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek, light and short, a feather’s touch, and you watched as a light pink flushed his face. A thumb brushed along his cheekbone to rid him of the lipstick staining on his skin, but he gently pushed your hand away.

“Let me brag a little to the guys, won’t you?” he laughed. It was a sound so sweet it threatened to tear you in two.

“Goodnight, Bucky,” you said slowly, stepping back to the tent.

He sighed, shaking his head as he took one final look at you, the last one he’d know for nearly seventy years. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

***

There were still tears in your eyes as you were pulled from between the cracks of space and time to land on the platform of the Avengers’ hanger in update New York.

Tony was down on your left, adjusting the buttons and levers on a massive computer board, slamming his hand against a faulty monitor until it shifted from a grainy static to a sharp input of bright green data. Steve was rushing up to you, already starting to remove the gear from your back and help you out of the suit. The file had slipped easily from your hand into Natasha’s and she was gone from the room before you even noticed, racing it off to Fury.

"Where is he?” you choked out, lump burning in your throat.

Steve paused for a moment, eyes flickering down to the floor because he must have seen the tears in your eyes. There was no need to specify. Steve knew exactly who you were looking for.

"The training room, I think.”

“Training room?” you repeated, surprised, eyes narrowed as Steve helped you slip your arm from the sleeve of the suit.

"He’s, um, he’s not coming, Y/n.”

“He always comes,” you insisted, peering up and over Steve’s shoulder to get a better look at the door, but they were still closed shut. There wasn’t a time since you’d joined the Avengers that Bucky wasn’t the last person you saw before you left and the first person you ran to when you came home.

Steve swallowed, continuing to work on your suit. “Y/n, the—the idea of you going back there, it wasn’t easy for him. You saw how he stormed out of the debriefing when Fury assigned you to this mission."

“He’s never not been here, Steve. Why would he--”

“Well for one,” Tony piped up, eyes still glued to the computer board, “he wasn’t entirely keen on shipping you back to the time where he was walking around with a brain that had yet to be thrown in a blender and a personality with a range wider than a pet rock."

You gritted your teeth, hands clenched to fists. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Tony shrugged, powering down the platform as Steve removed the last remaining panel from your suit, “just means that he’s probably sulking somewhere because only that idiot could be jealous of his own damn self.”

You looked to Steve who only bowed his head, lips pressed to an apologetic line, and suddenly, you took off running; sprinting across the room and shoulder shoved to the double doors at the exit. Neither Tony nor Steve were foolish enough to call after you, to believe that you’d stop for anything when it was Bucky you were running towards.

You passed by Sam in the living room, who pointed a finger to the gym, not even lifting his head from his cereal bowl. Clint waved from the couch, cheesy grin and all, before Wanda threw a pillow at him, hushing him as he tried to ask you how the mission went. It was all noise; nothing that you could hear when your focus was on Bucky.

When you made it to the gym, you found it to be empty, save for the distinct grunts in the far back corner, the slamming of fists against a sandbag, the labored breaths of a man in pain. 

Bucky stood with his back to you, muscles evident under the thin layer of his navy t-shirt, sweat soaking through the fabric and clinging against him. His whole body utilized in every punch and you stood back and watched until he ultimately hit it too hard and the bag dislodged from the ceiling, falling to the ground and rolling next to two of the same. Sand poured from the hole he’d created.

Bucky groaned, brushing his hand over his forehead to rinse the sweat from his eyes. As he turned around to hang another bag, his eyes landed on you, a flinch flexing throughout his body, a catch in his breath, because it wasn’t often you could sneak up on him. He swallowed, trying to find his bearings.

“You forget something?” he asked, voice low, tired. He didn’t realize you’d already gone and come back.

“No,” you replied, trying to mask your hurt though it did little use, “did you?”

He clenched his jaw, eyes darting down to the floor as he bent to grab another sandbag from the line. There was guilt etched into his features as he hung the bag on the chain as if it weighed nothing. It was then you noticed his bare hand, how it was beaten raw and bloodied.

“Jesus, Buck,” you gasped, reaching out for his hand and for the first time in nearly a year, he pulled away from you. He held his hands close to his chest, crossing his arms when he’d realized what he’d done, having seen the hurt on your face. You stepped forward to comfort him, but he flinched away.

“Talk to me,” you pleaded, tears in your eyes because you’d just left him to face 70 years in hell and all you wanted was to hold him again. Your agony for him ached deep in your bones, but he was keeping you at a distance, walls up, protecting himself from a threat you couldn’t see. “Did I—Did I do something?”

“No,” he said quickly, sternly, because it was one of the few things he was absolutely certain of. “No, sweetheart. It’s never you. It’s never anything you’ve done.”

“Then what is it?” You took in a shaky breath, one that barely took in air for the stone lodged in your throat. He glanced up at you and winced at the tears burning in your eyes.

“You saw him, didn’t you?” he asked slowly. He swallowed. “Me. You saw—me.”

“Yes.”

“But is wasn’t me,” he said, almost in a question. “It was some parallel version of me, right? That’s why I don’t remember... not because of what Hydra did to my head?”

You nodded, taking a cautious step forward. When he didn’t retreat from you, you took another. He kept his stare on the ground by your feet; appearing small, as if he didn’t tower over you, as if the strength of his body couldn’t snap a cement brick in half. Your hands slipped into his and you felt his whole body sigh of relief as you brought them closer to you.

Even the cold metal of his left hand was a familiar comfort for you; cool and solid, tangible. It was a piece of the man you knew. His right hand was swollen, skin broken at the knuckles, raw and bleeding. You winced as you quietly examined the wounds, carefully turning his hand in yours to get a better look.

“Will you let me wrap this?” you asked gently and after a few moments, he nodded. 

You led him carefully to the edge of the ring and sat him down on the raised edges; a kiss to his forehead as you backed away and you quickly grabbed the first aid kit from the latch under the ring.

Box in hand, you sat down beside him and pulled out the bandages, disinfectant wipes, and soothing gel. You set the kit on the floor and gestured for his right hand. It was quiet as you worked, applying the disinfectant and cleaning the damage he’d inflicted. You felt his gaze on you, studying you as a crease furrowed in your brow in concentration.

Several moments of silence passed before he spoke again.

“Do you see it now?”

You narrowed your eyes, confused by his sudden question. It was something he did often, let his mind wonder and spin until finally something stumbled out, whether it made much sense or not, but you were exceptionally patient with him. You sighed, gently easing the cooling gel onto his knuckles. He hissed at the sting of it.

“See what, honey?”

“Why you shouldn’t be with me.”

You closed your eyes, jaw aching from how tightly you clenched it. You could feel your lower lip trembling, tears burning in your eyes when you looked at him again.

He was better than he was when you’d first met. He didn’t wear the dark circles under his eyes in permeant stains anymore, didn’t leave grease caked into his roots, or wasted away closed off in his room without food for days at a time. But he still carried guilt in his eyes, still hung a heavy shame over his shoulders, still found himself unworthy and irredeemable, even on his best days, no matter how hard he tried to believe you otherwise.

“Bucky,” you sighed, his name aching in your voice, “why would you say such a thing?”

“You know now,” he replied flatly, like it was what he’d been waiting for, like he was so sure that his worst nightmares were already true, “you know what I was like then and how—and how broken I am now. I can’t be him, Y/n. I won’t ever be like that again and I-- I can’t give you the things he could. I won't be enou--”

“Stop, please,” you whispered, holding tightly to his hand as you wrapped the bandages. A tear slipped past your nose and fell to the white fabric along his knuckles, soaking into the cloth. “It broke my heart to see who you used to be, what you were like before Hydra, before all the pain they’d inflicted on you. You were... light and sweet and so impossibly charming.”

He clenched his jaw, eyes to the ground ahead of him as he listened, nodding along. You could tell he was preparing for the worst, like you might tell him that he was right, that this past version of himself opened your eyes to how empty he’d become, how weak and burdensome, how he was only a shell of the man he used to be and he’d never be enough for you.

His hands were shaking in your own and you swiftly lifted them to your lips and kissed at his knuckles, first upon flesh and then to the cold metal of his left. It pulled a gasp from him, an involuntary sigh of relief.

“I saw pieces of you in him, Buck. In the way he’d watch from a careful distance, how he smiled to himself when he thought no one was watching, the kindness in his eyes, the way he said my name,” you continued, letting his left hand sit on your leg so you could reach up to cup the side of his face, gently drawing his attention back to you. His eyes were red, strained, and you smiled sweetly at him. “It’s the same way I see pieces of him in you. You still tease and joke, even if it’s quieter, more intimate. You still make me feel like my hearts going to beat out of my chest when you look at me. You’re still impossibly charming, Buck. You are to me, anyway.”

He shook his head, biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Sweetheart, you’re not broken,” you soothed, sweeping your thumb along his cheekbone. You grazed bristles of hair along his face, scruff from a few days without a razor. “You’re not less than who you were then. Just different. The things that happened to you changed you, Bucky. They’d change anyone. I don’t ever expect you to be the man you were before the fall.”

Bucky took in a shaken breath. “I thought—I thought you might prefer him. The way Steve does.”

“Oh honey,” you exhaled, pulling him into your arms, his head resting on your collar and you stroked your hand along his back to ease the tremors away as he clung to you, “Steve doesn’t--”

“He wants me to be how I was,” Bucky mumbled, his lips muffled by the sleeve of your shirt. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling himself closer. “He doesn't think I can see the disappointment on his face, but I can. I know he misses how things were.”

“Steve just worries about you, Buck,” you said gently, rubbing circles along his back. “He just wants you to be happy. He wants you to be okay.”

It was like he didn’t even hear you, so caught up in the rush of consuming thoughts in his mind, threatening to do him in.

“I’m scared you’re going to start looking at me like that.”

You sucked in a harsh breath, though you willed your voice as steady as you could manage. “Like what, sweetheart?”

“Like I’ve disappointed you,” he admitted simply, like he’d thought about it a dozen times over. “I always thought I had nowhere to go but up with you. You’d only seen me at my worst but… but now you’ve seen me then and—and I don’t know if I can take you wishin’ I was him, doll, because I’ve tried and I—I can’t and I don’t want to lose you because I think it might ki—”

“Look at me,” you requested sternly, pulling him from your embrace and guiding his eyes to you. His cheeks were red, ocean blue of his eyes wet with tears as the words died on his tongue. “I will never ask you be someone you’re not. I would never want you to.”

He shook his head against your hands. “But I’m—”

“You are the man I’ve always known you to be,” you insisted. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, one that you felt his breath leave him as you pulled away. His eyes were glossy but they were vibrant blue as they met yours. “You are the man I fell in love with, Bucky. You, as you are right now. Not some idealized version of who you think you should be. Not the man you were in the forties. You.”

His entire body was rigid in your arms; solid, like stone and steel, and when he finally pulled back, there was an ocean of disbelief in his eyes. Lips slightly parted, brows pinched at the center and a flush of red in his cheeks. An imprint of your sleeve was prominent along his temple as his eyes searched yours, seeking out a deception he would never find.

“You love me?” he whispered, voice barely audible, but you watched as his lips mimed the words; the way he licked at the dryness and tried to swallow back the sandpaper in his throat.

“With everything I have, honey.”

When he finally did let himself exhale again, the breath carried a world of relief in its release. A smile hung on his lips, curving up into his cheeks, and wrinkled into his eyes. A vision of a man decades younger, lighter, where the blue was brighter and the stones were lifted from his shoulders.

“You love me,” he said again, though this time it wasn’t a question but simply a statement of fact. He repeated it again, like he was engraving it into his mind, into his memories where Hydra couldn’t touch it, where it would be protected and entirely his.

“I do,” you giggled, playing with the ends of his hair. “Any chance you might--”

Lips were suddenly on yours, melded and perfectly warm, soft, eager, and you wondered why you ever thought he was any different from the man he used to be. His hands snaked up into your hair, curling delicately into your scalp as a sigh left his breath and touched your cheek. He kissed at your jawline, your cheekbones, the tip of your nose, and returned to your lips where he was wanted most.

When he finally pulled back, you let him go reluctantly, and he set his forehead to yours; the brightest smile on his face you’d ever witnessed and you were almost certain it must have ached in his cheeks from lack of use, but god, was he beautiful.

“I love you, too.”

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

[mrslilyrogers]

Fall into Love

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader 

Warnings: Awkward and cute reader ahead! Nothing but sweet and soft fluff :)

Summary: What’s an awkward scientist like you gotta do when you develop a crush on America’s national treasure, Captain America? Recruited by Bruce and Tony themselves to work at the Avengers Compound, you try your best to keep your cool. But how could you when Steve is always popping up to help you?

Author’s notes: It’s my birthday today!! Yay!! And to celebrate, I want to share this super fluffy piece I wrote for @hopingforbarnes​​ 250 writing challenge. Thanks for letting me participate!  I got the prompt, “This is why I fell in love with you” which will be in bold below. I absolutely loved writing this and being a fan of chick flicks, I went with that vibe. I hope you guys enjoy and please, let me know what you think! Reblogs are very much appreciated :D

There he was sipping his cup of coffee, one hand holding today’s newspaper as he read. You thought it was beyond adorable that he insisted on getting actual newspapers delivered to the compound when he could literally read it from a tablet. You even offered to install the apps for him but he declined, saying he was too old for it. And in that moment you just knew, with his winsome smile and his deep blue eyes, you were utterly done for. So there you were, surreptitiously stealing doe-eyed glances at him from your perch by the kitchen counter, your laptop propped up on the island. His eyebrows were knitted as he brought the newspaper down, jotting his answers for the crossword puzzle. When he beamed at himself, you knew he got it right. Cute, so damn cute. 

“Ugh,” you groaned at your own patheticness. When his head shot up to look at you, you immediately cleared your throat and looked to your laptop, ignoring the heat creeping up your cheeks. 

“Y/N, you okay there?” Steve asked, pencil in mid-air.

“Yep, just working on something!” You replied a little too cheerfully, your gaze not quite able to hold his. You were always this way with him, tongue-tied, flustered and all fidgety. It was embarrassing.

Come on, Y/N, pull yourself together! You have two PhDs under the age of 30. Unfortunately, that was also probably one of the reasons why you were so freakin’ awkward but you really didn’t have to dwell on that now. Shaking off that snide little comment from the back of your mind, you continued your pep talk. You’re a badass scientist, graduated at the top of your class, and working with the Tony Stark and the Bruce Banner, your freakin’ childhood heroes! He’s just a 100 year old man! You’ve got this. 

You looked at him with a bright smile on your face, straightening your back to make yourself seem taller. More Confident. Mature. Womanly. Typing into your laptop, you pretended you were in the midst of a scientific research that would change the world. Except, it came up empty, the screen completely and irrevocably black. Oh, shit. 

“Ugh, Y/N. I think your laptop is turned off,” Steve awkwardly told you, pointing at it with the pencil in his hand. 

“Oh, yeah. Well, uhm, yeah it is… so, ugh, gotta go and charge this,” You flashed him a quick smile before you scrambled to your feet, your chair creaking as you pushed it back, grabbed your laptop and ran out of there as fast as you could. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Steve watched you, a perplexed look on his face. When you nearly stumbled out the door, he almost got up to help except you shot up faster than a speeding bullet. An adoring smile crept up his lips. Cute.

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

It wasn’t always like that. It all started when the science geniuses offered an advanced intensive program at the university where you were finishing your second doctorate degree. It meant extra work and more late nights but you didn’t even think of that, you had jumped at the chance from the second you heard of it and the rest was history. You aced their classes with flying colors and by the time you graduated, they had already offered you a full-time position at the Avengers compound, to assist them with whatever scientific endeavor they needed. You would become their resident biochemist/engineering physicist, equipped with your very own office and given free reign to create, tinker or even upgrade their weapons and computer systems. 

What you didn’t expect was how cozy living in the Avengers Compound would be. You thought they were a bunch of stuffy soldiers and spies with no time to deal with regular people like you. But as soon as you were introduced to the team, that all changed. 

They had all been in the common area when you first arrived. The men along with Nat were huddled at the TV, concentrating on some sports game as they drank their beers while Wanda and Vision were laughing and cooking in the kitchen. It was all so surreal, your jaw had dropped to the floor. Who knew the Avengers could be so domestic?

“You’re starting to drool, kid,” Tony commented at your side, immediately stopping you from staring. You mumble out a sheepish apology, your cheeks starting to flush. He flashed a smile at you before turning his attention to the team, “Everyone, listen up,” he shouted at them, clapping his hands twice before continuing, “This is our newest scientist, Y/N! She’ll be working with me and Bruce mostly, helping us with weapons and equipment so be nice! Piss her off and you’re toast,” he teased, winking at you. You didn’t think you could get any redder than you were at that moment. You let out a nervous chuckle, giving a little wave to everyone,

“Hi! Don’t worry, I won’t do that. I don’t think I can even if I wanted to, look at all of you!” you joked and looking at their smirks and empty faces, you realized just how inappropriate that was. 

“Not that I would want to of course! I mean, who would wanna kill the Avengers?” you continued to your own mortification, your mouth running on its own. You could feel prickly sweat down your back and you suddenly wished there was a hole that would just swallow you right that instant. Letting out a huge exhale, you tried again. 

“Uhm, what I mean to say is that I’m very happy to be meeting all of you and I’m glad that I’m given a chance to work here and help in any way that I can.” you finished sincerely albeit sheepishly, shifting your weight between your feet and hoping you didn’t totally muck up their first impression of you. 

Black Widow’s narrowed eyes eased up, arms still crossed at her chest, she gave you a little tilt to her chin as she smirked, “You’re adorable,” 

You let out a huge sigh, beaming at everyone. Captain America nodded at you as if to say ‘well done’, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Damn, if that man didn’t spell out dreamy. 

Tony finished the introductions and once you’ve shaken everyone’s hand, he was already moving, directing you to your designated room to drop off your bags so you guys could finish off your tour early and get to work. You were just about to carry your duffle bags, ready to drag your suitcase across their pristine marble floor when Captain America appeared by your side, “Hey, you need some help with those?” he asked, looking at your luggages. You had almost completely blanked when he stood so close to you. You could hear Tony’s voice getting softer and softer as he walked ahead, talking as he went. You nodded, not able to find the voice to speak. When he draped both duffel bags over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing, and pulled the handle of your suitcase higher, you objected,  “Let me at least get that,” you tried to grab your suitcase from him but he swiveled it out of your reach, already moving to follow Tony. “It’s fine. This is nothing,” he said, smiling down at you. 

“Thanks Captain. I don’t know how I’ll be able to keep up with him,” you replied, shyly smiling back at him and pointing at the man walking in front of you. He chuckled before letting out an exasperated sigh, “Oh, you’ll get used to it. And just call me Steve,” 

Tony suddenly turned around as if just realizing you weren’t following at his heels. “Would you look at that?” He teased when he saw both you and Steve lagging behind him. “Chivalry’s not dead,” shrugging, he continued on, prompting Steve to shake his head at his friend. 

When you both arrived at your room, You tried not to gawk but Tony Stark was definitely not cheap. They let you take it all in, practically feeling your excitement off your skin. Steve dropped your bags off on the floor before turning to take his leave, 

“Alright, I’m off. I’ll see you guys for dinner,” his voice cut you out of your wonder. 

“Thank you, Steve,” you beamed at him before he left the door. 

“You’re welcome, Y/N,” he replied, flashing you a genuine smile. You watched his retreating figure out the hallway, your heart hammering in your chest. 

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

You had been working for the Avengers for two months now and you must admit you had easily become friends with all of them, jokes and easy conversation flowing with everyone except for one. Steve freakin’ Rogers. Oh, you were friends with him, you talked but the easiness was only one-sided. Every time you had a conversation with him, you felt your heart leaping out of your chest. Every single smile from him sent butterflies to your stomach. It was becoming a problem, your school girl crush making you look less professional and on top of that, you just knew the spies figured it out. Why else would Nat and Clint suddenly make up excuses and leave you and Steve alone again for breakfast? 

You tried to ignore the fluttering of your heart as Steve made his coffee. Acting as normal as possible, you reached for the flour on the highest shelf of the cupboard, your hand coming up short. Uh-oh. Maybe, if you could just go on your tiptoes, you could get it, right? Wrong. You had been dead wrong. You wiggled your fingers, hoping you didn’t look like an absolute idiot. Oh God, have I been reaching for this too long already; past the point of asking Steve for help? If you turned around now and asked him, wouldn’t it be too awkward?  But if you suddenly changed what you were going to make just because you couldn't reach the flour, wouldn’t that be too petty? Oh god, why do you have to overthink everything when he’s around?

Steve suppressed his laugh as he leaned on the counter, watching you struggle. How long was it going to take for you to give up? You were so different from any woman he’s met since waking up in the future, always so happy and cheerful with no guise whatsoever. You were a breath of fresh air, real, and so unlike all the other spies and agents he’s worked with, with their cold manner and calculating eyes. It didn’t take long for him to trust you. He considered you his friend and now, you were just beyond adorable. A crooked smile formed on his lips as he waited some more, enjoying the show far too much, his eyes involuntarily moving down to check your ass out in your sleep shorts. When he realized what he was doing, he blushed, and immediately straightened up to help you. 

A huff fell from your lips as you decided, enough was enough. You turned around, ready to call for him, when you came face to face with his solid chest. His familiar masculine scent warmed your senses as blood crept up your cheeks. “Got it,” he said, holding the jar between you, a playful smile splayed on his perfectly luscious lips. 

You cleared your throat, your eyes on his lips as you tried to find your voice. “Thanks Steve,” you replied just a little too breathily.

“Anytime, Y/N,” he smiled softly down at you, bringing his hand up to ruffle your hair. And just like that the romantic atmosphere was ruined. It was just on your part. Again. 

______________________________________________________________________

Months later 

You were dancing carefree to the beat of the music blasting from your headphones as you cooked your dinner. It was late, you were sure everyone had gone to sleep so you were safe to boogie and shake your hips while you celebrated. You had finally figured out how to calibrate Black Widow’s newest weapon. It took you the whole night for the finishing touches, making you forget to eat but it was all worth it. You were on a high as you piled the pasta on to your plate, grabbing the still-too-hot garlic bread from the oven too early, making you wince as you put your thumb between your lips to lessen the burn. You didn’t hear the tired chuckle from the doorway when you shook your hips to turn around, refusing to let the scalding garlic bread shake your mood. You let out a tiny squeal when you saw Steve leaning against the doorway, decked in all his Captain America glory minus the mask. 

“You’re back?” you shrieked, a hand flying to your chest as you tried to calm your racing heart, thanking god you didn’t drop your plate. “You scared the shit out of me,” 

Steve had the audacity to look ashamed as he straightened. “Yeah, sorry about that, couldn’t help it. Please don’t stop on my account,” he teased, laughing, before a wince escaped his lips. 

“You okay?” you immediately dropped your plate on the table and walked over to him, losing your nerve to even get embarrassed when he clutched his rib. 

“It’s nothing, doll,” he replied, shaking his head, a faint flush casting over his cheeks as the endearment slipped. 

You couldn’t help but be taken aback too. His voice had been soft and unconvincing unlike his usual steely, determined self. You laid your hand over the one still clutching his waist.

“What happened here? Are you hurt?” Concern seeped into your voice as you looked at him worriedly.

“It’s fine, really. It’ll heal fast,” he stepped away from you, making light of his injury. He didn’t know how to deal with anyone fussing over him. 

“Let me see it,” you said, your voice firm for once in his presence, putting your hands on your hips. 

“What?” he chuckled again, poorly hiding his hiss.

“Come on, Rogers, I’m a doctor. Let me see it,” you nodded to his injury, determination steeling your stance. 

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he said, “Yes ma’am,” and gave you a mock salute.

 “But didn’t you say you weren’t this type of doctor?” he continued, teasing, as he unbuckled his utility belt.

“Don’t get sassy on me now, Rogers,” You rolled your eyes until he started to peel off his uniform, then you lost your breath. You felt your cheeks flush at the forced intimacy of the situation, your resolve withering as you shifted your weight between your feet, crossing your arms at your chest. Should you even watch him take his top off? You didn’t want to look like a creep so you focused on the wall behind him.

When you heard him wince, your eyes shot back to him as he struggled to lift it over his head. Your hands moved of its own volition, gently helping him. Once that was over and done with, you looked up at him, his chest panting. 

“May I?” you asked, your slightly shaking hand gesturing to his undershirt. He nodded and you let your hands lift his shirt off gently, but what greeted you made your jaw drop open. The skin on his right rib was marred with a big dark patch of purple and blue, almost appearing black. Around it, littered lighter and smaller versions of it, a few cuts here and there. On his arms, his pecs, on the side of his jaw that you didn’t even notice awhile ago.

“Steve, what the hell! This isn’t nothing! Can you even breathe properly?” You asked worriedly, running your hands over the cuts and bruises. 

“Yes, Y/N. I told you this is normal. This happened just a few hours ago, it’s already healing. I’ll be fine,” He once again explained to you stubbornly, a soft smile playing on his lips. 

“Sit down, you need to put ice on that and I need to clean your wounds,” You rushed off to get the things you needed before pulling up a chair beside him. He watched you as your hands worked practically over his injuries, pride swelling in his eyes. There was a strange fluttering in his chest that he didn’t dare acknowledge. He wouldn’t admit it to himself but he only objected more to your ministrations because it made you double your fussing. 

“All done,” You cheered to yourself as you started tidying up. 

“Congratulations to you,” he replied jokingly, moving to help you before you swatted his hand away. “Stop, just keep that ice on your rib,” you told him seriously, getting up to bring back the first-aid kit to the cupboard and throw all the used up cotton. He was the worst patient there ever was, complaining and whining all the way through. 

“Yes, boss,” he deadpanned, loving the blush that tinted your cheeks. 

“Hey, have you eaten dinner already? You hungry?” you asked him, washing your hands.

“Dinner? Y/N, it’s 2 am, how have you not eaten dinner yet?” This time it was his turn to be indignant.

“Well, I was working,” you replied matter-of-factly as if it was the most normal thing in the world to forget to eat.

“Jesus Christ, I ended up taking down a terrorist base camp and I still had time for dinner,” he huffed, furrowing his eyebrows.

You scooped up a plate for him anyway, making sure to double the serving. When you dropped it in front of him, you noticed he had put his shirt back on again much to your displeasure. What can you say? The guy was chiseled like a greek god. It didn’t hurt to look at him.

You both started to eat in peace, the awkwardness settling in. You had no idea why he wasn’t talking. He was usually cool as a cucumber while you were a blubbering mess. 

“So how was--”

“I didn’t know--” 

You both started at the same time causing you both to pause then laugh heartily. When he winced and clutched his rib again, you quickly apologized before he shushed you. “You go first,” he said, drinking water as he tried to hide his pain. 

“Do you want to get an x-ray? Make sure there’s no broken bones?” You asked, worry seeping into your voice again.

“Doll, I told you. This is normal for me, part of my job.”

“But I thought you said this was a simple covert mission, no fighting involved. They should’ve added more guys to go with you,” you frowned at him which made him chuckle lightly, his heart flipping in his chest at your concern. 

“That rarely happens. Really, you should see the other guys,” he made a joke of it to calm you down. Unconvinced, you smiled tentatively at him, thinking if you should still push the subject when he steered you to a different topic, asking about your work. You had explained to him animatedly about the progress you’ve made so far that you didn’t even notice how easily you guys had flit to different topics, talking about any random thing that popped into your minds, smiling and joking like it wasn’t almost four in the morning. 

When you went back to your room that night, you snuggled into your blankets, giggling. You had finally been able to talk with Steve without acting like a love-sick teenager. And it was everything you thought it would be. 

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

After that night, you guys formed an unspoken ritual. Every time you were working late and forgot to check the clock, Steve would bring you food to your lab, reminding you of your much needed dinner break. The first time it had happened, he walked in on you snacking on some m&m’s while you continued to work. He had groaned and lectured you on about how m&m’s and any form of chocolate was not considered dinner food. So after that, he took it upon himself to make sure you had something substantial to eat, often bringing his own cooking. You had talked about everything and nothing, some deep conversations that could only be shared through trusted friends while others had you both laughing deep from your belly with tears brimming your eyes. There were times when he had been relentless with his training too, even the rest of the team had left him alone to it, and you had to drag him away. Those days you had to remind him there was no war anymore and a little break was fine. You dragged him to watch movies, listen to music he had missed and, tried out those hole-in-the-wall types of restaurants where people wouldn’t recognize him.  

Steve had just gotten back from a mission with Sam and Bucky. Both boys grunted as they sat at the kitchen table, clutching their drinks.

“Man, I could really use a shower right now but I’m too tired to move,” Sam quipped, massaging his neck muscles. 

“I’m gonna order us a pizza,” Bucky said and eagerly whipped his phone out. Ever since he got off the ice in Wakanda, he’d been obsessed with all the “new” technology he’d been catching up on. He sure didn’t look it but he was a science geek at heart. Often going to you for help with everything he’s missed. The guys both looked to Steve questioningly, expecting him to butt in. He usually had a lot of input after a long mission. They were greeted by silence as he had his back to them, retrieving the first-aid kit from the cupboard. When he continued to ignore them as if he hadn’t heard anything they had just said and walked to the direction of your lab, both Sam and Bucky looked at each other, knowing smirks on their faces as they nodded their heads. America’s golden boy was whipped. 

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

Tony and Steve had been arguing in their usual banter at the lab. The super soldier looked like the worn out parent between the two while the genius billionaire gloated at his misery. Steve was wearing a black long-sleeved sweater that did nothing to hide his muscles despite its regular fit. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him from your station with Bruce, the two of you working quietly with an occasional chuckle or two thrown at the bickering men in front of you. 

Bruce cleared his throat when he caught you staring far too long at the golden-haired adonis, not paying attention to the question he was asking. You quickly averted your gaze and asked, 

“I’m so sorry, what was that?” you felt your cheeks warm as he looked at you with an endearing smile.

“I said, could you please pass me that sample?” He pointed at your hand clutching the petri dish. 

“Of course!” You replied, handing it to him before hiding behind your laptop to record the results of your experiment. 

“Will you quit acting like a grandpa for just a second and ask Sharon out? You guys clearly hit it off at the last mission. I don’t know what the hell is taking you so long,” Tony muttered as he tinkered on. 

You and Steve’s eyes snapped to each other, almost as if on instinct, before you quickly lowered yours and hid your hurt behind your laptop screen. Bruce didn’t miss the subtle exchange and tried to distract Tony off from the subject but still, the man was oblivious. 

“Tony, would you just quit it?” Steve complained exasperatedly, a sigh escaping his lips.

“I’m just saying, Cap. You’re a hundred years old, you aren’t getting any younger, pal,” he continued on. 

Before Steve could say anything else, you made a show of stretching out of your chair. 

“Oh boy, I need some coffee, do you guys want any?” you asked as cheerfully as you could, looking for an escape. 

“Oh you just read my mind! Didn’t I say she was the best?” Tony asked rhetorically, his hand gesturing to you as he looked at the men in the room. You missed the way Steve’s eyes had softened when they landed on you. The only reason he was even here. 

“I could use one right now, angel. Thank you!” Tony continued, using the nickname he had given you since you started working here, giving you a quick smile before going back to work.

“I could use one too, thanks.” Bruce nodded at you.

“Alright. How about you, Steve?”  you turned to him, your heart beating rapidly in your chest as he looked at you, an endearing smirk playing on the corner of his lips while he shook his head no.

“I’ll go with you, help you carry it.” He said, already standing up.

“What? Pssh. No. It’s fine, I got it.” You dismissed him playfully, leaving the lab as fast as you could, a weight in your chest as Tony continued to berate him into asking Sharon out on a date.

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

You decided to get Steve coffee anyway. You knew he was only being a gentleman because he didn’t want you having a hard time carrying all of it back to the lab. Grabbing some snacks too, you made your way back, a tray balancing on your hands when you heard Tony scream your name. Uh-oh. 

You opened the door to see Bruce and Steve laughing their asses off while Tony looked at you with murder in his eyes. “Did you just hack my playlist and change it all to spice girls?” he bellowed over the music, hands on his hips. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. It was supposed to be a prank between the two of you. He said you couldn’t hack into the system he created and you just had to prove him wrong. You thought you had put a timer on F.R.I.D.A.Y to just change it when he was alone. Guess you weren’t as good a hacker as you thought you were.  

“Sorry,” you shrugged sheepishly. 

“You don’t even look sorry. You could at least tell me you saved my old playlist,”

 Uh-oh. “I think so?” 

“Oh, come on!” he whined. 

“Sorry, but you questioned my hacking skills!” You replied indignantly.

“Because you’re not a hacker!” he emphasized each word, making you giggle. 

“I really am sorry! Look, I’m sure if there’s anyone here who could get it back, it’s you.” your sickly sweet voice belied the trick you still held up your sleeve. 

“Damn right, I could,” he replied arrogantly, typing into his hologrammed board as he gave instructions to F.R.I.D.A.Y.

You sipped the coffee in your hands, hiding the smirk on your lips. Bruce thanked you for the wonderful prank and you gave him a little curtsy in return as he grabbed an extra cinnamon roll, still smiling. All the while Steve looked down at the tray, his insides warming at your thoughtfulness, you had brought him his favorite yogurt and fruits knowing he’d prefer those over the sugary treats. He was suddenly pulled out of his reverie when Celine Dion’s haunting voice rang out, almost making him spit his coffee out of his mouth as he burst out laughing, watching Tony’s face get flushed. He turned to you as you carelessly threw your head back, laughing. Anyone who could take Tony down a peg, he admired, and knowing that it was your brilliant mind that had the genius sputtering in annoyance made him love you even more. 

“Oh doll…” he exhaled. “This is why I fell in love with you.” 

Everyone in the room suddenly stilled. Tony’s audible, “Oh” popped in the background making Steve screw his face up in confusion. What the heck? He saw your eyes widen, your cheeks turning beet red.  Oh crap. 

He said that out loud, didn’t he? 

[yaimlight]

Not Worth The Truth

“I lied when I said I loved you”.

He looks back at you with wide pain filled eyes, tears clinging to his lashes. You feel your hart crake just a little bit more but you push your own pain aside, keep your face blank and neutral. You can’t let there be any doubt, any chance that he might see through the cracks and know you don’t mean it.

He blinks once, twice, those forest green eyes so big and honest and you have to fight the desire to reach out and brush his tears away. Izuku’s eyes have always been so expressive, the man unable to hide anything he was feeling and you had loved it, basked in the way he looked at you with such love and devotion but now it makes you feel sick, makes your skin crawl. You force yourself not to look away though, commit every flash of pain and confusion to memory. You didn’t deserve to forget this, your greatest crime.

“You don’t mean that,” he tries to sound confident, sure in his statement but his voice wobbles slightly as the tears begin to fall, his words catching as he sucks in a shaky breath. You knew this wouldn’t be easy, knew that Izuku wouldn’t let you make a clean break and disappear into the night but you had hoped that you wouldn’t have to get cruel but you were rapidly running out of options and time. You were going to have to break his heart, his stupidly large and trusting heart that you had once sought to protect.

You glared at him as you took a step back, relying on old habits to see you through this. He wouldn’t believe you if you cried and you needed him to believe every word you said. For both your sakes.

“How could I ever love someone like you? Look at yourself Izuku, you’re pathetic,” you spat, voice dripping with distain. He flinched back from you, the large muscled mass of a man shrinking in on himself like your words had physically hurt him. It felt like your heart was being cracked in two, every word that left your mouth another stake driven in to make the gap bigger. After everything you knew he still strives with his self worth, his right to be here and it was a low blow to strike him where you knew it would hurt but you needed it to hurt, needed him to look at you one day with nothing but contempt.

He looked so broken and you wanted desperately to wrap your arms around him and take it all back but you couldn’t. Not now, not ever. Instead you sneered at him, letting out a bitter huff of laughter. You turned to leave, determined to get away whilst you could but Izuku wouldn’t let you, a scared hand grabbing at your wrist and keeping you in place. “Please,” he whispered, his normal cheery voice hollow and desperate. You did that to him.

You screwed your eyes shut, hands curling into fists at your sides and jaw clenching. “Please, if I...if I did something wrong...I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to upset you...please just...” you cut him off with an all to real laugh, bitter and mocking, not directed at him but at yourself though it doesn’t come across that way and you hate that that works in your favour. You yank your arm free turning back to look at him with anger in your eyes. He’s taller than you, not by much but enough you have to tilt your head back slightly to look at him. You loved that though, liked to cuddle up to him and slot your head under his chin and listen to the rumble in his chest as he mumbled on and on about the most random of things. You wouldn’t get to do that again.

“Are you thick? What about i don’t love you are you not getting?” you hissed out, taking a step back to put some much needed distance between you. You weren’t sure that you would be able to go through with it if he touched you again. His warm and scared hands sending pin pricks of heat across your skin.

Izuku was still in his hero costume though his utility belt and gloves were gone, abandoned on the table. You had been waiting for him when he got home, the greenet having been excited to see you and expecting to find you lounging around in one of his stupidly ironic t-shirts with a coy smile and a promise of love. Instead he had found you cold and shut of, a bag sat at your feet that contained every last little thing of yours that had found it’s way into his apartment over the last six months.

“I don’t understand. We were fine this morning. Just please talk to me, tell me how to fix this and I will,” he pleads with you, those to green eyes looking at you like you hold the sun in your hands and your threatening to take it away. Izuku has always wanted to help people, fix things and make everything right in the word, his strong ideologue often make people mistake his genuine desire to do good as stupidity. You had never believed that though, had always seen it as a sign of a good heart, a true hero who wanted to make the world a better place for all but now as he desperately tried to cling onto the tattered remains of your relationship you began to wonder if you had been wrong all those times and he was actually living in an impossible fantasy land. His dream had always been a nice one but you had always known it wouldn’t happen.

“Nothings changed I just can’t be bothered with this little game anymore,” he looks betrayed, taking a step back and almost tripping over his own feet. “Game?” he chokes out and finally you can see your words starting to sink in, his to quick mind running through every aspect of your relationship and trying to see if he had missed something. You knew you had to push just that little bit more, had to tip him over the edge before he could start to fight back again and you knew this would hurt him but he had to let you go, give up hope.

Smirking you looked up at him with cruel amusement. “You didn’t think this was real did you?” you laughed watching the way his eyes widened impossibly more with shock and pain. It didn’t matter if it had been real, didn’t matter that he was the first person in a long time you had actually cared about, had actually wanted to be around. You had known when this started it was a mistake, that nothing good would ever come of it but you had been selfish, had wanted to bask in the light of his smile and the warmth of his arms. This was all your fault, his pain was all because of you and you carry that with you until the day you died.

“Oh you did didn’t you? You actually though that I could want someone like you, let alone love you,” you mocked his feelings, the words coming easy despite the nausea you could feel building. His tears and flowing quick and plentiful, streaming down his lightly freckled cheeks and dropping down onto his chest, soaking into the green fabric. He’s a noisy cryer, sucking in sharp and ragged breaths as he shakes his head, like he’s trying to deny what your saying but you know him and you know that by now he has realised that you had only told him you loved him once and that had been to get him into bed. He had noticed that you never really went out with him, had been reluctant to meet his friends and had never tried to introduce him to yours. He was probably wondering about all the late nights at the office that you knew didn’t exist, was probably imagining our with someone else and laughing about how easy it had been to string him along. It was better than the truth, better he think you a heartless bitch that what you truly were.

Sighing like this was growing boring you snatched up your bag and slung it over your shoulder, “look let’s not make this more than it actually is. You were a good fuck, something to pass the time with but that’s all it ever was. No need to get so emotional”. His knees give out then, hitting the wooden floor with a loud thud as he presses both hands over his mouth in an attempt to keep his chorales sobs and whimpering at bay. It doesn’t work and you feel your mask threatening to fall apart, your eyes stinging as your own tears threaten to fall. You need to leave and now, before he notices.

You turn away again, managing to take a step this time before Izuku is once again grabbing at your wrist, his grip tighter and damp with his tears. Huffing you turn back to him, finding him looking up at you with the desperation of a man who is about to lose everything and you hate yourself just that little bit more. “Please...I...love...you,” he forces out between sobs, his quiet voice full of despair.

Wordlessly you loosened his grip, one finger at a time and letting his hand fall to his lap once you were free. You crouch down in front of him, cupping his cheek with one hand and using your thumb to wipe away the tears but there falling so fast it doesn’t make a difference. He screws his eyes shut, his face pressing into your palm and you can practically feel the last little shrewd of hope he is clinging onto. You’re going to have to crush it, extinguish that flickering flame and leave him cold and hollow. You don’t want to. You don’t want to hurt him any more than you have but if there’s hope there’s the chance he will follow and only madness lies that way.

Leaning forward you press a kiss to his damp lips, Izuku whimpering and pressing back but you don’t let it last, pulling away before it can be something more. His eyes open and this close you can see all the different shades, see the depths of his soul. It also means you can see the moment his heart finally breaks when you say your next words, “I know yet I just don’t care”. The sound that comes from his lips is one of pure pain, his hands pressing back against his mouth as he doubles over and cries like his whole world has been shattered.

You push to your feet quickly, licking your lips and tasting salt as you dig his keys out of your jacket pocket and chucking them into the table, the little green bunny key chains ear snapping off on impact. He sobs loudly at the sound of them hitting the table, something closer to a scream that’s muffled behind his hands. You can’t stay there any longer, spinning on your heals and having to force yourself to walk casually through the apartment and not run. Izuku doesn’t try and stop you this time.

His cry’s follow you and your thankful you had waited for him with your shoes and jacket already on because the thought of having to stand there and listen to the man you loves heart brake as you laced up your trains makes you feel sick.

The door creaks as you open it, the lock clicking into place as it shut it softly so as not to disturb his neighbours. You make it to the stairwell before your own tears start to fall and you find yourself sinking down into the cold concrete floor as your body shakes with it. You burry yourself head in your knees, hands grasping at the back of your head and just let them fall, bitting down hard on your lip to keep the sounds at bay. Oh gods what had you done?

You always knew that you would have to be the one to end this, the one to make sure he wouldn’t try and cling on but you had never thought it would hurt so much. You weren’t supposed to get so involved, wasn’t supposed to fall in love yet here you were, hopelessly infatuated with the man, a hero no less. You had been cruel, malicious even and though you had done it for his own good he would never see it that way. Every morning cuddle and stolen kiss, every lazy day spent lounging on the sofa and just enjoying each other’s company, every aspect of your relationship was now tainted, twisted and blackened with the implication that he had been nothing but a bit of fun, nothing more, nothing less. He would never think of you again without remembering what you had just done to him, without feeling the phantom twist of your words as they ripped through his heart.

You had done a lot of things wrong in your life and loving Izuku was probably the worst in a long list.

Your phone dinged, the sound cutting through your muffled cries. You lifted your head, scrubbing at your eyes and taking one shaking breath after another as you try to regain some sort of control over yourself. It takes a few moment and your breathing is still ragged but eventually your vision is clear enough for you to pull your phone out and look at when you had been sent. You were half expecting it to be Izuku, begging you to come back but it’s not his name that flashes across the screen. It’s a simple thing, just a time and a quick glance at the clock tells you that you don’t have the time to sit here and wallow in pity and lamenting your mistakes in life.

With one last shaky breath you push your self up into your feet, pulling your hood up and start on your way, bouncing down the stairs quickly. You take one last look at the photo of you and Izuku on your Lock Screen, the both of you happy and smiling, before you flip it over and prise the back off, not caring as the something snaps. You slip the chip out just as you burst through the buildings door, dumping the phone into the bin just a few steps down the street and dropping the chip down a drain.

You couldn’t risk Izuku using it to find you, didn’t want the temptation there to contact him either. It was better this way, disappearing into the night like you hadn’t ever been there. You had moved out of your apartment that morning, not leaving a forwarding address behind. Not that it really mattered. The name on your lease was a fake anyway, the name on your new one different to the last and on the other side of the city. Izuku wouldn’t find you, no matter how hard he looked.

You kept your head down as you made your way through the city, slipping into the night time crowed easily and getting lost in the mass of others. It was with practiced ease that you disappeared down back alleys and side streets, getting deeper and deeper into the city and its dark and seedy underbelly. This was the forgotten part, full of drug addicts and petty criminals, prostitutes and street gangs. No hero came here unless they had a death wish, leaving this part of the city to rot and fester. This place had its own rules, its own hierarchy and as you slipped past the lowlifes and degenerates no one dared touch you, watching you with open hostility as you approached ‘The Unholy Hero’, the bars neon green open sign fright in the darkened street.

You burst through the door, bouncing down the steps and ignoring the four sets of eyes watching you, heading straight to the bar. “Trouble in paradise?” the annoying cheerful voice called through the silent room and you gritted your jaw, trying to ignore him. You let your bag fall off your shoulder, throwing it against the counter as you lent across the counter and snatched up a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass. “How about you go fuck your self,” you snarled, leaning against the bar as you pours yourself a shot and nocked it back, quickly refilling the glass.

No one here knew about Izuku, you had been careful about that but they did know you had been seeing someone. It was hard to hide the change in your behaviour when you spent so much time with these people. You knew if they ever found out about him that neither of you would survive the night, him dead and you a broken mess beyond repair. No this was better. Izuku would hurt for a while but he would be okay in the end. He would wake up one day and realise you hadn’t been worth it and he was better off without you.

Across the bar Higashikuni snorted, his kohl lined golden eyes shimmering with amusement. “How about you fuck me yourself coward,” he smirk, winking at you and he shook his head, moving his jet black hair out of his eyes. “Like I would ever be that desperate,” his gold eyes narrowed as the others laughed, flashing brightly as he stuck up his middle finger at you. This was normal for you two, an odd mix between flirting and hostility that had worked well for the two over the years. Normally you would just roll your eyes and get on with it but you were feeling raw and stolen, on edge and ready for a fight and he would be a good distraction, your quirks complimenting the other in a way that meant any fight you had would be long and painful. You wanted it to hurt and he wouldn’t disappoint.

Before you could spend your mouth though the side door opened, the quiet murmuring of voices stoping instantly. Huffing you took another shot, eyes falling to look at your shoes as you ignored the new arrival. It didn’t last long, shinny black shoes appearing in your line of sight. “Bad night?” he asked, like you were some sort of puzzle to be turned over and put back together. Your grip tightened on the bottle, your eyes screwing shit for just a moment as you seriously contemplated leaving but you knew you wouldn’t get far, you never did.

Sighing you opened your eyes and looked up, glaring into blue/grey eyes that looked as cold and uninviting as a winter storm. “Yeah. Some asshole is waisting my time when I’m pretty sure there are a thousand other things I would rather be doing right now,” you were never normally this rude and over Fuyuhito’s shoulder you could see Higashikuni raise an eyebrow at you but you didn’t care. You had already fucked up your life tonight so why not carry on as you started and set the rest of it up in flames as well.

The room got colder, an impossible breeze ruffling at your hair as Fuyuhito’s cold eyes narrowed. You didn’t back down down, held your head high and glared back hoping he would take the bait, even as you felt your skin prickle with the cold. Something must have given you away though, the sudden cold breeze disappearing and Fuyuhito turned away from you with a sigh, his silver hair glinting in the light. Growling you took another shot, letting the liquid burn as you glared at his back.

“Let’s get on with it then,” he said airily, waving his hand and the lights go off, a project whirring to life. He sinks into a chair next to the other, leaning back into the plush leather and looks at you expectantly. Glaring at him you took another shot before placing the bottle and glass down on the counter and headed to stand next to the glowing image of a high end skyscraper. “As you all know this is the headquarters of the Nakamura foundation, the countries largest supplier of high end luxury goods and services to the rich and famous and tomorrow night they will be hosting a party to show of their newest collection-“ you waved your hand and the image changed showing off a group of of diamond and precious jewel encrusted necklaces and bracelets “-jewel of the night”.

This was easy, the words flowing from your lips like water. You had been working on this for six months, had spent months doing recon and test runs and you were sure in your plan, as was Fuyuhito. This is what you were good at, how you had made your living and gotten through life and your confidence was well earned. After all this wasn’t the first high end robbery you had orchestrated and it wouldn’t be the last.

As you went on about security systems, who would be in attendance, heroes that would be on duty and exit strategy’s your mind wonders back to the man you had left broken and alone. You hated yourself for what you had done but it was better this way, better for him to think he had fallen in love with a heartless bitch and not a wanted criminal. You didn’t want to put him in that position, to have to watch you be lead off in cuffs or for him to be the one to arrest you. No this was definitely a mercy and come tomorrow night it wouldn’t even matter. You would take your share and run, put as much distance between you and Izuku as you could and never set foot in Japan again.

[whitexwingedxdoves]

Scream     part 4

Scream. Part Four: Help Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Platonic Peter Parker x Reader Pronouns: She/Her Warning: Swearing, fighting, little fluffy. Summary: Scream pleas with Venom to help her, when he refuses you strike a deal with her. A/N:  Gets a little heated in this one. I’m not sure how many more parts there will be but im excited with what I have planned for this. I barley had time to proof read this one so, sorry if theres any mistakes; Ive been editing my podcast at the same time ha. If you want to be tagged, just ask <3 Master list of chapters

When you finally woke up, you found yourself in what you could only presume was a cell. Though it wasn’t bars and a metal bed, no. It looked comfortable and the walls almost seemed invisible if it wasn’t for the blue hue. What the hell happened.

You stopped panicking long enough to notice Bucky was sat in a chair just outside your cell. You allowed your eyes pan over him for a moment. His body seemed calm but the look on his face screamed worry. “You’re awake” he words were soft and despite your current situation, they made a part of you melt like butter. He pushed himself off the chair taking a few steps closer to your cell. “what-what happened?” you stumbled over your words as they seemed to crack in your throat. You listened to every word that spilt from his lips, explaining how Venom knocked you out, that Venom’s host was called Eddie Brock and despite them both being arseholes, Eddie seemed much more rational. He ended his little speech claiming that they had come up with an agreement, You were to stay with the Avengers, try to control the Symbiote or completely get rid but Tony argued his point of how it had to be your choice and despite Venom’s obvious opposition, Eddie managed to get him on board. You sat with the information you were given for a moment, allowing it to sink in. You clearly had a big choice to make. I want to talk to him.  It sounded like she was crying and instantly broke your heart. “She want’s to talk to him! I want to talk to him” your words seemed a little too stern but you stood your ground. Bucky nodded before leaving the room without another word.

You were only alone for a couple of seconds until a large framed man walked through the sliding doors. You watched the way he carried himself and already you could tell that Bucky was telling the truth, he was an arsehole. He stopped in front of you cell, a smirk etched onto his face which caused your eyes to roll. “She wants to talk to Venom” you demanded, in which he cockily shrugged and instantly morphed into the large Symbiote, it didn’t take long until Scream made her appearance. She was silent for a moment, you could feel your eyes welling up at the emotion she held. “You have to help me” though she stood confidently, her words showed weakness, even more so when he laughed at her. “You have to help me!” she repeated, her words louder now, causing Venom to growl slightly at her. “Help you? Look at you, no amount of help would stop you from being so pathetic” he spat at her, you could feel the anger bubble through your blood as his words cut through you. “You can’t just leave me here like this. We’re suppose to be family!” anyone with ears could hear the pain in her words. “You have to help me understand” she pleaded but you couldn’t take it anymore.

For the first time since she bonded with you, you took control. Forcing yourself to appear, your eyes filled with tears as you looked up at Venom. “Let me talk to Eddie!” you spat at him, your face showing nothing but disgust at the actions of the Klyntar. He laughed before his form shifted back to Eddie. “Can’t you talk to him” you so hoped that he would agree, that he would be the middle man, Scream needed so bad but alas, he just shook his head, a small laugh left his lips. “Look, it’s not my problem, I’ve got better things to do. I can’t babysit yet another Symbiote” he shrugged. Your eyes narrowed at the man as he turned on his heels to leave the room. “You’re both cowards.” You whispered, as he waved you off.

You sat back slight on the bed that was provided in the cell, trying to figure out what to do. You thoughts rushing from one scenario to another. One thing was for sure, you weren’t going to let them pull her from you. We can do this together. Despite her silence, you felt her gratitude towards you. If you can promise me, you wont try and kill everyone. I’ll help you, I’ll help you figure it all out! She promised and with that you called to Friday and asked to see Tony.

-

When you told Tony your plan of helping Scream, he was a little unsure but soon came around. You got him to agree to let the part he extracted from you, back into your body so that she could fully bond with you. Once you rested after you felt the rest of Scream find its place in you, you headed towards the gym. You saw Peter go in there not long ago and you figured he would probably be the best bet to help you with these new powers. With each step you could feel Scream getting stronger, it scared you a little, considering how much of a loose cannon she had been but you chose to trust your instinct.

Pushing the door open to the gym, you looked around to spot Peter, sitting on the edge of a boxing ring swinging his legs, listening to Happy drone on about the importance of understanding his strength. The bored expression on the teens face wasn’t lost on you causing you to giggle a little. Both their head snapping towards you before you started taking steps towards them. “Sorry to interrupt the pep talk” you giggled finally reaching them, you hand settled on Happy’s shoulder for a second. “You mind if I steal the kid for a moment?” you questioned he seemed reluctant at first but nodded, realising himself from your touch and throwing a look Peter’s way as if to say their conversation was yet but over.

You waited until the man left the room before turning to boy. Giving him a small smile before propping yourself next to him. “How you feeling?” he questioned, his voice a little shaky. You almost forgot how terrified he looked at you after he first met you. You nodded slowly pressing your lips into a thin line. “Actually, I feel great!” you admitted, placing your palms on your thighs. “I actually came here to ask you a favour!” you’re face scrunched up a little as you awaited his response. “Yeah- yeah sure. What is it?” you allowed a small smile to grace your face as he stumbled over his words. Assuming the boy had been fully informed of the decision you made, you sighed a little. “Well, considering you and Scream seem to share the same sort of... powers, I was hoping you could help me- help her figure them out” your words were slightly unsure of asking him to do such a thing. He took a moment, figuring out his decision before finally nodding, a little too aggressively.

-

You had probably been in the gym with the boy for hours at this point, constantly morphing in and out of your natural form as Peter taught you how to use your powers, the ones he shared with you anyway, despite being completely taken back by the webs that shot from her skin compared to the device he wore to make it happen. You on the other hand experienced scaling the celling for the first time, you couldn’t deny the fear that spread through your entire body, despite not having any control over it. Finally you had completely exhausted yourself but the boy barley broke a sweat, your head snapped at the sound of the door swinging open. Now standing in place of the door was Bucky, laughing slightly at how the two of you contrasted each other. You looked up at him like a saving grace for a moment, thankful to be done with this training experience. You noticed he was holding something in his hand but you couldn’t quite make out what it was.

“I think i’ve taken up too much of your time, Kid!” your words were breathless as you peeled yourself off the canvas you once sat on and patted him on the shoulder. Making your way over to the taller man, with a grateful smile on your face. He greeted you with a sly laugh, slightly mocking the way you obviously couldn’t match Peter’s stamina. Without a word, he held up a DVD case and displayed it on his chest. You’re eyes glossed over it for a moment before returning to his gaze with a rather large smile. “Fight Club?!” mixing you confusion with excitement as he escorted you out of the room. “Yeah, figure you’ve had a long day and you seemed almost offended knowing I haven’t seen it yet” a light chuckle left his lips as you both made your way towards your rooms. You didn’t say much of anything else before you reached your room, you told him you just needed to shower and signalled to the beads of sweat rolling across your body, he nodded and made his way to his room leaving you to do just that.

After you felt sufficiently clean and swapped your clothes for some that laid spare in one of the dressers, you made your way to Bucky’s room, lightly brushing your knuckles over the door. It took a couple of seconds before he answered with that forced smile of his. Though you knew it was genuine you couldn’t help but wonder if after all this time he’d simply forgotten how to smile. He lead you towards the bed before handing you a beer. You took in the sight of his dark room for a second before pressing the bottle on your lips, allowing the cold liquid run down your throat. You watched him fumble around with the DVD case attempting to figure out how his TV even worked. You didn’t offer any help, it was far too entertaining to get involved.

Finally he conquered the TV and sat back on his bed, holding onto the remote. He patted the mattress beside him, signalling you to climb on and you did just that. You allowed your body to curl up as you rested your back on the headrest of the bed, slightly turned in Bucky’s direction, resting the cold bottle on your thigh. When he noticed you had gotten comfortable, he pressed play and relaxed himself. You couldn’t help yourself looking at him every time something good was about to happen, needing to take in his reaction and never being disappointed. Every so often, he’d catch your gaze but instead of commenting on it, he’d ask about the plot line or one of the actor’s. You where taken back a little as he reacted the same way you did when Brad Pitt appeared on screen with nothing on but washing up gloves but it only made you laugh.

-

With your beer’s finished and the room now filled with the sound of Where is my mind by the pixies, you allowed yourself to stretch out a little. “So...” you pestered the older man, nudging him slightly with your knee. He just nodded in response, looking up at you. “Good, hu?” you giggled slightly placing the empty bottle on his night stand. You listened to the song for a moment, unintentionally singing along as you seemed distracted. You snapped back to reality as you felt eyes on you, looking up at Bucky, you couldn’t help but note how incredibly handsome he was in this moment. The way his eyes seemed to soak you up, the smile that got a little more natural every time he allowed one to pass. “Thank you” you whispered softly, slightly taken back by the way he looked at you. You’re eyes now filled with admiration for the man, you admired how he took the time out of his own busy day to make yours a little easier. He just shook his head at your words, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips. The air suddenly feeling far to thick for your lungs as he got closer and closer to your face. The heat radiated off your cheeks as you felt his breath blow on you hair gently, each strand slightly tickling your face. Before you could even register what was happening, you felt his lips on yours. You didn’t react at first, taken back by the sudden gesture but as soon as you managed to wrap your head around it, you leaned into his lips kissing him back a little more hungrily than it started. You felt his arm wrap around your waist pushing you on your back gently as he hovered over you. Your hands explored his hair, grasping at it a little as he laid you down so delicately. Your breathing became short and restless as his hands explored the rest of your body, tickling slightly as he allowed his finger tips to tease the hem of your shirt. Oh, that’s hot!

Startled by the voice in your head, you pulled away from a moment only to receive a confused look from Bucky, attempting to ignore it, you pulled him back to your lips, easily falling back into his grasp. I wonder what he does with the metal arm. You groaned slightly at the voice in your head, praying and begging she would just leave, let you have your moment. Of course she didn’t, every so often she would say something to pull you from the moment until you had, had enough. Finally you pushed away from Bucky completely. “Go away!” you shouted, your hands resting on your temples. Bucky seemed a little taken back by your sudden out burst, sitting up right on the bed. “I thought you wanted to –“ he started before you turned your attention to him, a defeated look on your face. “No, I do – I really do but” now turning away from him, you could feel your face getting slightly flushed. “She keeps talking to me” you admitted only to be met with his laugh. You felt the weight of the mattress shift as he made his way closer to you, you felt the strap of your shirt fall onto your forearm before the sensation of the cold kisses he planted in it place, slowly making his way to your ear. “I know how we can shut her up”

tag list :  @sadbutradbarnes @sweetdayme4427​

[halzore]

For @nelba, I hope you have a wonderful 2021 and a nice and snowy rest of 2020. I had a lot of fun writing this little scene, with hopefully a clone you like!

Tagging @starwarssecretsanta and thankyou @lilhawkeye3 for organising this and bringing some extra seasonal cheer in a pretty tricky year

disclaimer I cannot write titles for Shit, please excuse me while I scream.

Word count: ~2000

Warnings: So much fluff I think i just suffocated.

Without further ado:

FOX^2

“That’s it. Get up.” Thorn had burst into Fox’s office, irritation etched on the man’s features. Fox’s head barely moved from the mountain of data pads, focus tuning out his brother’s arrival.

“Get up!” Thorn repeated. Fox looked up from his work, vexed by the interuption. “You’re going on the beat.”

Thorn was flurrying around the room, trying to dismantle the precarious pile of data pads and bother Fox into moving. Fox was not buying it.

“I’m not going on the beat.” It was a statement, matter-of-fact. No one would have argued with Fox. Except for Thorn. Thorn turned around to his brother, copping the determined stare and matching it with a grin. He waved a paper in front of Fox’s nose.

“According to this signed override form from Marshall Commander Cody, you are.” Thorn was too proud of himself, a shit-eating grin beaming across the room at his peeved brother.

“I’ve got paperwork, I can’t go.” Fox gestured at the scattered data pads, in a last ditch attempt to rid himself of his persistent co-commander.

“You. Are. Going. On. Beat.”Thorn had marched himself around the back of Fox, lifting him up by the shoulders, out of his chair, dragging him along behind. “Now.” Thorn thrust him out of the door and locked it from the inside.

Fox stood in the hallway, he had not had enough caf for this. He turned to the locked fort calling through it.

“Thorn, I need my helmet.”

~~~

The beat was pretty quiet, it usually was. Fox had to admit that it was nice to have some air, even though Coruscant wasn’t particularly well known for the freshness of it’s air. Leaning against his speeder, he absent-mindedly listened to his police scanners as he scanned the streets for miscreants. His mind wandered to the pile of work sitting back at headquarters, making little lists of what he had to fill in and when. He was so far away in his work that he didn’t see you barrel down the street.

Your feet were carrying you as fast as they could, your running form weakened by the small bundle you held close to your chest. Your eyes were fixed on the little nose pointing out of the material, it’s round eyes peering up at you. You didn’t notice the plastoid covered man getting closer and closer until you rammed into his chest plate.

Your chest was heaving, bent over, one hand holding the bundle to your chest the other placed firmly on you knee. The clone trooper hovered for a moment, his bucket turned towards you in intrigue.

“Uh, ma’am” You looked up at the clone.

“Ah shit..” You bundled your little friend closer to your chest and turned away from the officer. Fox looked at you, his eyes scanning trying to sus out the scene although you couldn’t see that.

“What have you got there.” Fox carefully enquired. Your face had guilt written all over it, eyes searching desperately in the Courscanti air for an answer, when none came, you squared up to the officer, trying to give off an air of confidence.

“I can explain.” You unwrapped the little bundle you had been clutching at your chest. A little red snout popped out, followed by two dark but inquisitive eyes. The red fur wrapped around the little creatures face, except for it’s chin and chest, where it was contrasted by a crisp white.

“You see, I was walking down the alley behind my work, and I saw a rather dodgy gentlemen.” Fox was half-listening still looking incredulously at his own namesake. “I saw him try to palm this little beauty onto some back-street crim, and I knew the little guy was in trouble.”

“So you stole a fox, off an illegal smuggler.” Thorn was definitely never going to hear the end of this.Fox would never let Cody get away with this. The commander of the Courscant guard, back on beat for one day and this. “What were you going to do after that?” Fox took a deep breath as you wriggled on the spot, your face settling in a nice cringe.

“You see, I hadn’t thought that far…” You trailed off, your eyes focussing around back the way you came.

“And…” Fox prompted

“And that.” You pointed at the angry man walking unnaturally fast towards you and the clone, before you wrapped the fox up again, turned on your heels and began to run away from your pursuer.

“Hey! Wait!” Fox called after you, he drew his pistol and set it to stun. He sent a blue ring towards the angry man, before turning around to catch up with you. You were a decent runner, but not good enough to outrun the likes of the GAR’s finest. A strong hand grabbed your free arm. “Wait.” He said more softly now. Fox took his helmet off and clipped it to his belt.

You let out a laboured sigh, admiring the clone’s handsome face.

“Thankyou.”

“Just doing my job,” He stretched out his armoured arms towards you. “How about you hand me that little guy and I’ll keep your little vigilante action to myself.” You gave the clone a little blush as you handed over the fox.

“What’s your name trooper?” Your hands, now they were unoccupied, hand gone to fidgeting with your hair.

“Fox.” A shocked silence followed.

“Your joking.” You scoffed at the man before you. “No way.” Fox’s mouth gave a little uptick, a smirk. “You’re serious” An amused disbelief shone in your eyes as you began to laugh at the wild situation you had gotten yourself into.

The fox wriggled in Fox’s arms. You took a step back admiring the image.

“Well, Fox, there is no way this day can get any weirder, so I must ask.” Fox’s eyes were trained directly on you as one hand scratched the head of the animal in his arms. “Would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow?”

Taken aback by the question, and by the ease of the deliverance of the question, Fox took a moment to regroup. He seemed to mull it over for a few moments, all the while your stomach was doing flips and you swore that your heart had got loose of it’s casing. Fox looked at you again, a small smile creeping across his features.

“Yeah sure, why not.” You beamed up at the man, before writing you comm channel onto a little slip of flimsi you found in one of your pockets.

~~~

Fox stood in front the mirror in the barracks. Behind him, Thorn and Thire were gossiping as usual.

“I can’t believe it was a Fox.” Thorn shook his head. “It could have been any animal in the galaxy.” “Nice hair, ori’vod” Thire chuckled, earning himself an approving punch from his brother. Fox looked in the mirror, his hair slicked in an unnatural way. Why did this have to be so hard, why did Thire say that Fox’s hair was too unkempt for a lady. Fox sighed, wondering if he should bail. He didn’t want to, but going out for dinner, in public, without his armour, sounded worse than going on the beat.

At least you would be there, the little firecracker he had met for fifteen minutes. Hopefully that would make it worth it. Behind Fox, Thire and Thorn continued to chat shit as Fox continued his scrutiny.

“Would you two shut up and help me out.” Thorn and Thire looked at their older brother. “Would she like this?” Fox asked as he moulded his hair into the sixth new hairstyle fo the night. Thire grinned, Thorn facepalmed, before releasing their critiques.

~~~

He was standing outside the restaurant you had picked for what seemed like an eternity, his eyes peering into the streetlight lit night, searching for your face. He was beginning to wonder whether you had stood him up, when you came walking purposefully over to him.

You looked amazing, your hair was done differently than last time Fox had seen you, a semi-formal outfit that was dazzling. You looked ethereal.

“Wow…” Fox’s mouth was agape, ogling at your presence.

“Your jaw is supposed to close there buddy,” you gave his chin a gentle push to where it was supposed to be. “Sorry I was late, the taxi service is so unreliable around here and I didn’t want to walk.”

“I’m just glad you made it.” Fox smiled a little, before you lead him inside.

The restaurant was like a little garden, surrounded by pot plants of every colour and variety. Creeping vines crawled up perfectly placed metal bars that separated the tables into their own little private areas. There were a few wooden seats up by the bar, all of which were filled by humanoids and aliens of all species. The restaurant was bustling, a lively electric energy that buzzed through the place. You and Fox found your seats that you had booked earlier, they were over, just off from the bar.

Both you and you clone date regarded the menus, scouring for options to suit your culinary needs. It was after the second drink you shared with Fox that you noticed something was wrong. A blue Twi’lek man sat on the end of the bar in silence, glaring at the back of Fox’s head. You nodded you head over Fox’s shoulder and he glanced in that direction quickly. The Twi’lek noticed, moving up from the bar and over to your table. Fox instinctively reached for his pistol and cursed when he couldn’t find it.

Fox had stood up now. You as well, waiting for the tense scene to unfold.

The Twi prowled forward, disdain emanating from his entire existence. He moved in closer to Fox and you could see him shift his feet to a better stance. There was a stone cold silence, charged with a violent static. All the patrons and staff had turned to look at your small corner of the restaurant.

The Twi didn’t move, Fox waited with bated breath. A sound, followed by a wet sticky substance landing on his face.

“Republic scum.” It was a deep grumble from the Twi. He stood a head taller than Fox, who didn’t move, trying to diffuse the situation. Anger bubbled up from within you, a distaste settling in your mouth causing a sour expression on your face. You cracked you knuckles, took a deep breath, walked around the table, never breaking eye contact with the Twi and placing yourself between Fox and the irritator.

“What did you say?” You voice was low too, carrying danger. The Twi returned your glare.

“I asked you a question,” you repeated. Again, the Twi didn’t respond. You moved right up close to the blue alien, to the point where you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“I said, Republic Scum.” The Twi’lek repeated.

“Brrrr. Wrong answer.” You broke the tension, by sending your knee straight into the man’s groin. The restaurant descended into chaos as the Twi tumbled to the floor. You felt a hand wrap around your arm and pull you towards the exit. All the action blurred together until you were out in the street just you and Fox.

You walked along silently for a few minutes.

“Trouble really has a knack at finding you doesn’t it.” You blushed, it wasn’t the first time someone had said that to you.

“No.” You corrected. “Unfortunately, I seem to find trouble. Thanks for getting me out of thier.” Your tone turned apologetic. “I shouldn’t have done that, put you in that position I mean.”

Fox turned to look at you.

“I’ve never had a civvie stick up for me like that before.” A sort of sadness settled in your chest at the revelation. You slipped you hand into Fox’s entwining your fingers as you kept walking.

~~~

Fox wished he didn’t have to let go of your hand as he made it to the front door of your apartment. Despite the event of the evening, you had grown on him quite a lot.

“So I guess I should say goodbye.” He stood close to you, hand still in yours.

“Only you have to, or you could come in? I could make you a hot chocolate.” A small smile played on your features as your eyes seemed grow wider in plea.

“One hot chocolate sounds good.” Fox conceded.

He settled on the couch as you babbled away about your family, friends and life whilst bustling in the kitchen, making the hot chocolate. Steam poured off it as you brought it into the room. You placed one in Fox’s hand before plonking yourself next to him on the couch. You drank in a comfortable silence as you watched the speeder’s whizz past in the coloured lights of a coruscant evening.

“Ah, you have a bit of froth there.” You reached up, a little tentatively, to wipe some from underneath Fox’s nose. Your cheeks reddened as your hand came to rest on Fox’s cheek. Fox put his drink down on the table in front of him and reached up and placed his hand over yours. “Thanks for a wonderful night Fox.” It was quiet, nervous, the vigour from earlier in the night vanishing in the midst of the butterflies in your stomach.

“We will have to do it again sometime.” Fox leaned, the tip of his nose tickling yours. An unspoken invitation, an energy, Your heart pounded in your chest as Fox brought up both his hands to cup your cheeks. You lips met in a tender moment, savoured by the both of you. Fox pulled away.

“I really have to go, but I’ll see you soon, that’s if you want.”

You offered him a warm smile. “Of course I want.”

You followed him to your doorframe, where you wrapped him up in your arms. “See you soon Fox.”

~~~

Fox walked into the barracks with a huge grin. Thorn ran to catch up with him.

“So, how was it.”

“Perfect.”

Thorn began to ask a number of intrusive questions. Fox ignored him. Nothing could ruin this night for him. A thought crossed his euphoric mind, he reminded himself to thank Thorn. Maybe he should go on the beat more often.

[thestrangeprophet-blog]

The Muse and the Soldier

The Muse and the Soldier

·       f/reader x Levi Ackerman  

·       No NSFW

·       HC storyline

·       I do not own the rights to any of the characters

·       PLS support the actual Attack on Titan anime

 You open your eyes and take pleasure in the feel of the morning breeze coming from the window. Breathing in the air which carried the aroma of those special blue flowers potted downstairs in front of your tea shop. Seems you have left all your pencils across the desk and the drawings plastered to the walls from the night before had fallen again. You pick up the drawings and admire the one yet to be finished. It is of a regular customer you normally see when they come back from a scouting mission. Piercing grey eyes in contrast to his fancy dark undercut. Levi Ackerman. You always wonder how he has the time and will to keep up with his hair. After laying his portrait neatly on your desk, you ready yourself for another day brewing the finest tea you can in hopes of seeing Levi for another bout of his favorite tea.

The Captain and Commander Erwin were frequent visitors to your tea shop because Levi had always recommended it. For one reason or another, the tea you brewed satisfied him beyond what he would brew himself with what he had. Erwin had thought the same as well and it brought you enjoy your tea could be held to such standards. As a fellow tea lover, the subject of tea was never a boring conversation with Levi, no matter how short or blunt it was with him. Sure, most people see it as something more along the lines of hot leaf juice. It’s more than that and Levi understood it though it went unspoken.

Captain Levi came alone today and took his usual seat. It was rather unusual but you carry on and bring his favorite. The teapot whistles and steams like Titan smoke with the lingering scent of black tea that trails through the wind. As you set his cup in front of him and pour his tea, you notice he seems lost further in thought than normal. You finish pouring his tea and hesitantly ask if there is anything else you can do for him. He takes a second to come back to this moment and raises his head ever so slightly. His hair still covering those captivating grey eyes. Releasing an exhausted breath, he asks of one thing of you.

Levi: I- If it’s no trouble to you… will you sit with me Y/N? Even just for a moment?

Y/N: That’s a bit of an odd request, Captain. I’m surprised you even remembered my name. But sure! Anything for my best customer.

Levi: You don’t have to address me as Captain. J-just Levi will do… and thank you.

You sit in the chair across from Levi where Erwin is normally seated discussing the next expedition and plans you have for Eren and the cadets of the 104th Cadet Corps. As of in this moment, this is simply two human beings sitting together enjoying tea. Just sounds of the breeze against your ears and the softened sips coming from across the table at the lips of the man before you. Levi’s cheeks are flushed with a gorgeous rosy blush. It seems he wants to start a conversation but has no idea where to start. Its adorable how a man with a reputation for being such stone cold badass could be flustered over tea. You strike a smile in his direction and find your own way to start a conversation he could initiate. Call it encouragement if you will. The sketchpad and pencil you keep handy finally get put to use. The pencil scratching against the paper caught Levi’s attention though he kept to his tea. He watched as he appeared on the paper before him in awe.

           Levi: Hey Y/N, is that supposed to be me?

Y/N: Oh, uh yeah haha! I figured you weren’t much in the mood to talk so I didn’t want to bother you while you were enjoying your tea.

Levi: You are a woman of many talents I see.

Y/N: I wouldn’t say that much.

Levi: N-nonsense. I come here to enjoy the tea you brew perfectly and the singing you think I can’t hear. Didn’t know you were so skilled with a pencil as well.

Y/N: I usually never have the time to draw during the day Levi.

Levi: Can I request something? I’ll pay for it.

Y/N: No need to pay me. What can I do for you?

Levi: I need you to draw someone for me. I don’t really know them too well, but they have a face I could never forget.

Y/N: Oh I wonder who this special person is! Could you describe them for me?

Levi: Well, they’re around the same height as me maybe a bit taller. They have long black curly hair that glistened as though it was a fire at sunset. Brown eyes like fresh honey in the morning and glistened with a hopeful shine I envy. They wear some rather dark clothing year round even when its hot outside. Their nose is slightly hooked and cheeks soft and red. Their lips glistened and they look soft to the touch. And even though they don’t think it looks very nice, they have a scar across their left eyebrow. I’m not exactly sure how they got, but they always try to cover it behind their hair yet it still finds a way to see the light. Their jawline is soft and looks like it could rest perfectly in the cups of your hands.

Y/N: Wow Levi, I didn’t realize you had a way with words.

As the form you forge is refined from guidelines to distinctive features, the person he is describing truly is a sight to behold. You may not have the colors to use but you understand the value of what those colors are which are just as powerful. Levi sits across from you amazed at your skill for a second time until you’ve finished your work. You hand him the final sketch and you already know he just asked you to draw yourself but play it off. He takes the drawing into his hand and holds it up so you and the drawing are in view with each other.

Levi: As beautiful on paper as you are in person. Tsk, your hands are even a work of art on their own.

Y/N: If I may say I’m rather flattered you’d ask me to draw myself just for you but you aren’t very good at making your flirtations subtle. Unless you weren’t trying to be subtle in the first place.

Levi: Oi its not my fault you decided to pull a journal out of nowhere while we’re drinking tea together!

Y/N: You are one hundred percent correct Levi. Really for a man who exudes such confidence, I’ve never seen you even stutter let alone get flustered over tea. Its cute.

Levi blushes even more and looks away trying to play it off. He already knows you’ve got at least one finger wrapped around him. No one really talks to him like that besides this Hange person he mentions. They sound like an interesting character from the way he describes them. You would love to meet them one day when they aren’t experimenting on Titans. For now, your gaze remains fixed on Levi’s profile as he tries to regain his composure. You would not have assumed he was even interested in such trivial things other than being a clean freak.

You are aware of Levi’s reputation but just getting to sit with him in such an intimate setting gives you a next level view of him. The clean undercut and soft flowing hair was just asking to have someone’s fingers run through it and embrace the feeling of each strand even if it meant making his hair just a little messy. Each group of strands followed the path of the wind as leaves blew from the vines. His jawline was as sharp as the blades he carried to cut down titans like butter. His hands, though they bore the weight his fallen comrades and the destined purpose to eliminate and survive, seemed delicate under the rough calluses of combat. But his eyes. Those damn grey eyes. They pierced right through me whenever you got the chance to see them yourself. All of the things they saw, and the feelings kept behind them like a locked door. There is so much pain rage behind those you wonder when the last time Levi got to see something outside the realm of horror outside and within the walls.

           Y/N: Levi?

           Levi: Yeah Y/N?

Y/N: When was the last time you’ve ever had a chance to relax and just lay low for awhile?

Levi: Can’t say. I don’t think I’ve given myself a damn break but I can’t afford to. I don’t exactly have anything else to do.

Y/N: Hmmm. Let’s change that. Make sure you make yourself available tomorrow at sundown. Come back to the shop and dress casual. I know somewhere we can go. I’ll even grab an extra book so you can out those hands to work other than killing Titans and jotting down whatever it is you do write for your paperwork.

Levi: B-but I c-can’t just abandon my po-

Y/N: Shush. In case you haven’t noticed you don’t have any missions scheduled for at least another week. Plus business around here is slow. We could both use a little time for ourselves. Even if its just a moment.

Levi: *blushing even more* uh- ok. I guess it wouldn’t hurt. You didn’t have to act like such a brat about it.

Y/N: If you weren’t Levi I would throw this lukewarm teapot of tea all over you

Levi: *Smiling ever so slightly* hmp I uh… I guess I could see you doing something like that. Okay, I’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up. I’m curious as to where this place is anyway.

Y/N: Alrighty then it’s a date! No ifs ands or buts. You got that Levi?

Levi: Loud and clear.

You’re leaning over the table to make sure Levi knows where he needs to be. You’re close enough to him you can smell the scent of the tea you made him mixed with just the scent of him. You’d kiss him right then and there if you really wanted to. Looks like he had the same idea but you pull away because you weren’t in that much of a rush. His lips were parted as they awaited your lips to meet his. It was thrilling seeing him even a little desperate for you but making him wait was even better. As much as Levi felt he couldn’t abandon his post, he couldn’t say no to you. He’d been working up the courage to talk to you for as long as he has been coming to your shop. Though he wasn’t the one to ask, Levi appreciated that you were the one to take the lead in making plans to accompany each other on a date. You’d been waiting for the opportunity to even be in this position. Now that it’s here, you make plans to make the date an enjoyable one that Levi would also like. Good first impressions are still pretty important. Especially if you want to make a good impression for Levi.

           Levi: Tsk, its almost sundown. Id better get back to the brats at HQ.

You grab his hands and ask him to wait just a little while longer.

Y/N:  Well if you’re going to be leaving, at least let me give you some extra tea and a meal to take back with you. It’s the least I can do for agreeing to going on a date with me on such short notice.

Levi: Tsk make it quick please.

Y/N: Don’t rush me. I’m being nice to you. I usually don’t just give out free tea and meals to anyone you know.

Levi: I’m sorry. Thank you. I- I uh really appreciate your generosity.

You hand Levi the tea and meal you made just for him. You touch hands for a moment and get goosebumps for the first time in a long time. You blush just enough that Levi notices as well and gives a small smirk. You exchange that smirk with one of your own.

           Levi: Thank you again Y/N. I guess I’ll see you soon.

           Y/N: You guess?

           Levi: I will see you soon.

Y/N: Much better. And by the way, you have a very charming smile. I wish I could see it more often. It suits you almost as much as that cold gaze you’ve always got equipped.

Levi: I never really gave it much thought what that looked like. I’ll pick you tomorrow. I promise.

Y/N: You’d better if you know what’s good for ya hahaha! I’ll see you tomorrow, Captain.

END

Comment if you’d like a Pt. 2!

[slutforbuck]

Traveling Soldier Part 2-- Bucky Barnes x Reader

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

“Mr. Stark? I was told you needed to see me.” Howard glanced up from his papers to see you standing in the doorway of his office. “Yes! I want you to meet our candidate for Project Rebirth.” Howard jumped to his feet with an excited look on his face. You looked to your feet, knowing exactly who the singular candidate was. You knew when Steve never came back from the Expo that he had finally gotten what he wanted. You followed Howard to the lab where Dr. Erskine, Steve, and Peggy Carter were waiting. Steve’s eyes grew wide when he saw you walk in. “What are you doing here? I thought you were a secretary y/n!!” Howard, Peggy, and Dr. Erskine looked between the two of you confused. “I am Mr. Stark’s assistant, Steve. I hope you understand what you have gotten yourself into.” Howard stepped forward, “How exactly do you know each other?” You smiled, “Steve is my brother. You’ve chosen a great candidate Dr. Erskine. He’s one of the bravest men I know.” You walked away and began getting everything set up to start the process.

“Are you ready?” Steve nodded. “Take off your shirt, your tie, and your hat.” You stood behind the booth with Howard as Dr. Erskine led Steve to the chamber. You knew how painful this process would be for Steve, and you felt a pit begin to grow in your stomach. “Levels at 100%.” You looked down, not knowing if you would be able to watch the process. “That’s fifty percent. Sixty. Seventy.” You heard Steven begin to scream, and tears began to stream down your face. Peggy screamed for them to shut it down. You were barely able to hear Steve telling them to continue through your sobs and Peggy yelling for them to shut it down. Suddenly everything stopped. “The son of a bitch did it.” You looked at the chamber, and saw a huge man step out. Peggy stepped towards him, “How do you feel?” “Taller.” You smiled, “You look taller.” Before you knew what was happening, Howard pushed you under the booth. There was a loud explosion, and you saw Dr. Erskine fall to the ground. You crawled towards him and grabbed his hand. Steve knelt beside you, checking over you and the doctor. Dr. Erskine pointed at Steve’s chest, and you felt him go still. Steve looked at you, and you whispered, “Go. Be careful.” He nodded, then jumped and ran out the door.

“Mr. Stark are you okay?” You had finally calmed down, and were able to stand. “I’m fine y/n, where is..” Howard trailed off as he saw Dr. Erskine on the floor. “Oh no..” You walked to the booth and gathered Howard and the doctor’s notes. “I will put these in your office, and make the call for Dr. Erskine. Is there anything else you need Mr. Stark?” Howard rubbed his forehead, “No..no we can regroup tomorrow. Go home and get some rest, be here early tomorrow.” You nodded then walked out. As soon as you made it to Howard’s office, you fell against the wall. Tears streamed down your face as you realized that it was a very real possibility that you could lose your brother and your best friend. After what had just happened here at home, where it was supposed to be safe, made your worries all the more real. You hailed a cab, and rushed inside. You had a letter from Bucky waiting in your bag that you had been waiting to open.

He told you as much as he could about how things were, and asked about how things had been at home. You smiled sadly, and debated on whether to tell him what happened. You began writing, recounting as many details as you could. You told him what happened with Steve, and then about the explosion. You didn’t want to worry him, and reassured him that you were fine. The next few weeks of work with Howard was trying to recreate the serum. When Dr. Erskine died, the serum formula died with him. Letters between you and Bucky were frequent, and they helped you make it through the day. Bucky began to worry about you working with Howard, feeling that it was putting you in danger. You smiled down at the letter as you wrote back that he shouldn’t be allowed to have all the fun, and with he and Steve gone, you had to do something stupid to feel normal. One day after leaving the lab, you checked your mail and found a letter from Bucky. You hurried inside excited to read it. Your face turned from happy to worried as you neared the end of the letter. He had mentioned a mission that the 107th was about to leave for. As you read the last two lines of his letter, tears began to form. “When it’s getting rough over here, I think of that night at the Expo. I close my eyes, and I’m home. I see your eyes, and feel your arms around me. Don't worry doll, but I won’t be able to write for a while. I love you y/n.” Your eyes shut tightly to try to stop the waterfall of tears that began to stream down your face. You whispered, hoping that your quiet voice would carry to him, “Be careful Buck. I love you.”

“Y/n on the plane. Now.” “Mr. Stark what’s happening?” Howard pulled you to the plane, not stopping to explain. As he dragged you onto the plane, you saw Peggy and Steve. “What is going on?” Peggy pulled you to the side, “The 107th has been taken. Steve plans on getting them back. Mr. Stark needed you here in case anything happened.” “Th..the..the 107th?” You could barely hear your own voice as you looked to Steve. “We are going to find him.” His eyes showed confidence, his voice didn’t waver. You slumped down into a seat, holding back your tears.

You waited anxiously in the camp, hoping and praying that the men would come back safe. “Look who it is!” You jerked your head up to hear cheering, and saw Steve and Bucky leading the group of returning men. Steve looked at Bucky and nodded in your direction as he walked towards Peggy. You had never seen a man run as fast as Bucky did towards you. He grabbed you around the waist and his lips crashed against yours. Your tears began to mix with the mud on his face, and you struggled to catch your breath. “Why are you here? You shouldn’t be here. I can’t have you getting hurt here, you won’t recover from it.” Bucky pulled back and wiped the tears from your eyes with a worried look on his face. “I came with Agent Carter and Mr. Stark. I was told I was needed, and I went where I was told.” You kept your arms around his neck, afraid that if you let go he would disappear. “I’ve missed you so much y/n. I thought we were going to die, and all I could think about what that I promised you that I would come home safe. I can’t break that promise.” “Y/n, we have to go,” Howard rested his hand on your shoulder, “I’m sorry.” You looked at Bucky with tears steadily falling. “Buck…I love you so much James Barnes. You stay safe, and I will see you when you get home. Promise me that you’ll come back safe.” “I promise, y/n. I love you.” Bucky whispered the last words in your ear as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and then another soft kiss to your forehead. As you followed Howard to the plane, you kept your hand in Bucky’s until your fingers were too far apart to reach.

You followed Peggy through the streets of London. “Peggy where are we going?” “You’ll see.” You stopped in front of a small destroyed bar. “Before we go in y/n, I want to say I’m sorry for what has happened. I am here if you ever need anything.” You looked at her, trying to read her expression as you followed her through the rubble. “Steve?” You whispered to Peggy, becoming more confused. “Dr. Erskine said that… the serum wouldn’t just effect my muscles, it would effect my cells. Create a protective system of regeneration and healing. Which means um…I can’t get drunk. Did you know that?” Peggy gave him a sad smile, “Your metabolism burns four times faster than the average person. He thought it could be one of the side effects. It wasn’t your fault.” You spoke up, “What wasn’t his fault?” Steve stopped pouring and turned to look at you. “Why did you bring her here? It’s dangerous.” “She doesn’t know Steve. She needs to know, and I don't think that Howard or I are the right people to break the news to her.” You looked between them, beginning to realize what Peggy was sorry for, and what Steve believed was his fault. Your heart fell to your feet. “No. He’s fine.” Tears began to well in your eyes, your throat began to burn, and you felt the urge to scream. “He promised Steve! He swore that he would come home safe!!!” You fell to the floor, unable to support your weight. Steve slid down next to you, “I tried..I couldn’t…he just….” Peggy looked to the both of you sadly, “You did everything you could. Did you believe in your friend? Did you respect him? Then stop blaming yourself. Allow Barnes the dignity of his choice. He damn well must have thought you were worth it.” You leaned onto your brother’s shoulder, “What happened?” You tried wiping the tears away, but the more you wiped away, the more seemed to appear. “He fell..from a train..above a ravine..I tried y/n. I tried to save him..Just a few more inches, and I would have had him. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Sobs racked your body, you tried to reassure your brother that he had done everything he could to help Bucky, but all you could do was cry. Steve seemed to understand what you were thinking and wrapped you in a tight hug. “I’m goin’ after Schmidt. I’m not gonna stop until all of HYDRA is dead or captured.”

You stood in the control tower with Peggy, waiting to hear something, anything. “Come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?” Peggy grabbed the radio, “Steve, is that you? Are you alright?” “Peggy! Schmidt’s dead.” “What about the plane?” “That’s a little bit tougher to explain” “Give me your coordinates, I’ll find you a safe landing site.” “There’s not going to be a safe landing. But I can try and force it down.” “I’ll get Howard on the line, he’ll know what to do.” You looked at Peggy, “There won’t be time. Peggy, he’s going to try to crash it and sacrifice himself. I…I can’t listen to this. I love you Steve.” You slid down the wall of the control tower, blocking out Peggy trying to talk Steve out of it. The next thing you know, Peggy is on the floor with you, sobs racking her body. You held each other as you cried, not sure what to do without him.

*a month later*

“Y/n, you know I have been working on recreating Dr. Erskine’s serum formula. I think I finally cracked the code. Do you think we could find a candidate that would be willing to test it?” You glanced up from the files you were working on, “Why not me Mr. Stark?” Howard stopped in his tracks. “Absolutely not.” You stood in front of him, “And why not? I know the risks, I know what can happen. Howard I have nothing to lose.” He looked at you shocked. “You’re serious. Are you sure you want to do this?” You smiled, “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Howard got you in the chamber, “Are you still sure you want to do this? You can still back out.” You rolled your eyes. “I am positive. I told you, I have nothing to lose now. Promise me that you won’t stop. No matter how much I scream, you make this happen Howard. Don’t forget to take notes for me.” You smiled at him, hoping to reassure his doubts. He made his way to the booth and began increasing power. The pain you felt was excruciating, and you felt like you were about to die. After what felt like hours, the chamber opened. You stumbled out, and Howard jumped to catch you. “Are you okay? You don’t look different.” You smiled at him, “Let’s go test this. Give me every test you gave Steve.”

After all of your testing had been completed, Howard grinned staring at his notes. “This is amazing. Just. Amazing! We did it. We finally cracked his formula, and look at you! No-one will even know!”

“Our new base of operations! Camp Lehigh.” You looked around, “Mr. Stark, this is an army base.” “Exactly,” Peggy began to explain, “It’s a wonderful disguise. No-one will ever suspect a thing.” For a couple of years things went smoothly at the SHEILD base. “Y/n, I have something to show you. Follow me please.” You followed Howard to a hidden elevator that took you below the office. As you stepped out into the room, you were confused by what you saw. “This is where we are housing everything for Project Rebirth. It is the most hidden place we could find. HYDRA is still after the serum formula, we had to find a way to make sure they don't get their hands on it.” You looked at Howard, knowing there was something he wasn't telling you, “They want to experiment on me don't they?” Howard nodded his head, unable to look at you. “So what are we doing about it?” “I..Well, I’ve come up with a new technology. Since your body has been altered by the serum, it is possible that your blood won’t freeze, and you’ll be able to stay alive, but asleep.” You looked at Howard questioningly, “What are you going to do, stick me in a freezer?” Howard, again, looked away. “In a manner of speaking. It’s called cryostasis. Basically it will freeze you, without killing you. When things die down and it is safe for you again, we can get you out.” “It’s safe?” “Of course.” You looked at Howard, a little skeptical. “Okay then, I have nothing to lose. Let’s do this.” The last thing you see is Howard closing the door.

[markosmate]

baby blues

pairing: paul x reader

summary: reader meets the boys for the first time, and they only truly take a liking to her because of how sharply paul’s interest spikes when he first lays eyes on her. 

warnings: none

au: first lost boys fic kinda scared ngl :(

as much as you wanted to call santa carla your home, nowhere has ever felt like home to you. you wanted nothing more than to find somewhere - or someone - who could make you finally want to stay. yet for some reason you had always had an overwhelming urge to keep moving and always travel, hopefully one day finding the place that had been screaming your name for years.

you weren’t going to lie, santa carla had a homey feel to it - as homey as a murder capital could get - and you were hoping this would be the place. it’s been a year since you left home in new york on your motorcycle, traveling across the united states and stopping momentarily in every place you passed through. however, nowhere truly called to you and in the end, you just kept moving. driving into santa carla was a show on its own. as soon as you made it into town, you were welcomed by a beautiful boardwalk with an amazing variety of rides, shops, and food joints. sure, some of the people walking around didn’t look the friendliest - but who would willingly put themselves out there in a place where the vulnerable are never heard from again.

it was already dark out by the time you arrived, so you wasted no time and almost immediately parked your bike in the boardwalk parking lot among the other cars and walking back in the direction of the boardwalk. tonight would most likely be yet another night spent alone in a dirty hotel room, and even if you decided to stay the only thing your savings would let you afford for now would be a small shaky apartment somewhere deeper in town.

you’d need to find somewhere soon before you ran out of money, a job would help with that if you could ever find a place that you could stay in long enough to actually get hired somewhere.

refusing to dwell on how desperate you are to find a home, you grinned as you practically pranced around the long strip of games and small shops. weaving your way in and out of people you eventually made your way into the closest - and least occupied store - a video shop. a man was standing at the main counter with a large white dog laying at his feet. "hello young lady!" he greeted with a large grin tugging at his lips. "you look in need of a shopping spree. how can we help? we’ve got the best selection of videos and tapes in all of santa carla!" you grinned at his eagerness to sell some of his items and you were always a sucker for appeasing to older folk's wishes.

"just looking for some cassette tapes, got any?" you smiled admiring the large selection of patches adoring the inside of the glass counter top.

"quite a few. they’re over towards the back wall if you wish to browse."

"awesome, thank you." you smiled at him before walking around the entire center of the shop towards the back wall where, indeed, there was shelves of different cassettes.

you skimmed through the rows of them trying to find anything that would suit your taste before ultimately giving up after realizing it wasn’t in your best interest to be spending money in such a care-free way. you made your way back around the shelf and began walking towards the exit at the front of the store when four boys on motorcycles pulled up to the entrance. they all shut off their vehicles and stepped off of them rather quickly, following the platinum blond into the shop in a line. the dog laying on the floor lifted its head and its lips pulled back in a snarl as they made their way further into the building. the man at the front - who you presumed was max - hardened his glare as he watched the four young men waltz through the place.

his attention soon shifted from them however as a couple came in and began asking him questions about what kind of tapes he had in the horror section. your eyes wandered over each boy, taking in their appearances and clothing choices.

the blond at the front looked to be the most layered up. dressed in all black, he carried himself in confidence and had a dark sort of aura surrounding himself. the smallest at the end of the group was leaned over the counter, grinning at the girl working alongside the older man. she shook her head at him with a dismissive grin before turning to continue organizing the jewelry decorating the short stands atop the counter. his colorful jacket was hard to miss and long blond curls fell down his back. the next to follow the platinum was a much more serious looking dude with longer dark hair and dark eyes. he had no shirt on underneath his leather jacket, showcasing a pair of abs that would have made you blush in any other circumstance. however, you were much more focused on the twisted sister fella who was running his fingers along the vinyls lining a shelf. "yo marks, they got a metallica one!"

"no way man, metallica's not on vinyl." curly turned from his position at the counter to cock a hip at the blonde.

"yes huh, come 'ere!" you were too invested in watching the blondes argue over if it was worth it to steal the vinyl to notice the platinum walking over to stand beside you.

"see anything you like?" you jumped and let out a small yelp as you turned quickly to look at him. he was a good foot taller than you and his face was mere inches from your own. you’d be lying if you said he was less intimidating up close than he was farther away.

"h-huh?" you squeaked out stepping a few feet back so you both weren’t so close to each other.

"the cassette collection. have you seen anything you've liked?" he smirked as he placed an unlit cigarette between his lips. you were too nervous to realize that they hadn't even pulled up until after you’d walked away from the cassette shelves.

"oh, no. uh, nothing that sparked my interest." you confirmed giving him a shy smile as you tried to turn and make your way out of the store. you didn’t make it far before you ran straight into someone's chest and fell backwards. whoever it was caught you by your bicep and helped steady you. you looked up to lock eyes with twisted sister and you could practically feel your face turning bright red as he shot you a pretty smile.

"watch out babe, you could run into the wrong people here." he spoke smoothly with a humorous tint to his words.

the curly-headed one laughed at his words. "you’re new around here, huh? we'd remember a pretty face like your own."

you ignored the flirtatious undertones of his comment and just nodded in confirmation. "yeah, just stopping in. i’m y/n." you introduced yourself shyly, not really sure if they wanted an introduction or if they were just messing around with you before taking off into the crowds of the boardwalk. platinum smirked at your words before gesturing for you to follow him out the store. you found yourself listening to his request before you could even really ponder why he needed you outside the store in order to introduce himself.

once you stood with them at the bikes they each stopped to lean against their respective vehicle. you found yourself leaning against the railing as you watched their every move carefully - trying to decipher if they posed a threat or not. "what are your names?"

"david. that’s paul, marko, and dwayne." platinum introduced shortly as he finally lit up the cigarette between his lips. you waved at them and shot each one a smile.

"why don’t you come hang out with us for awhile babe?" marko grinned at you, ignoring paul who slugged his shoulder after.

"oh, uh that’s quite alright. i should probably get going." you lied through your teeth knowing that you’d have to spend at least an hour driving around town for miles to find a hotel willing to rent you out a room at this hour.

"we insist." david grinned with a sinister kind of look in his eyes. "you can ride with paul and we'll go hang out back at our spot overlooking the point."

"oh that’s alright, really." you tried to persuade them. "my bike's in the parking lot, i really should be heading back to my hotel."

"hotel? oh come on babe, if you’re staying in a hotel that means you really have nowhere you need to be. just come hang out for awhile, we promise we don’t bite." paul teased leaning forward over his handlebars a bit. "as for your bike, they don’t tow vehicles left over night. you can come back and get it tomorrow. please?" he pouted at you and you felt yourself slowly weakening at the look in his eyes.

"alright, alright fine! but no alcohol, i’m not getting drunk around a bunch of punks i just met." you gave up and threw your hands in the air.

david nodded and mounted his bike after putting out his cigarette. dwayne copied his actions and they all started their rides. paul smiled brightly at you and held out his hand to help you climb on behind him. "hold on sweets." and just like that, they took off down the walk. after weaving through the crowds for a few seconds they rode down a short flight of stairs causing you to squeak and cling to the blond in front of you a little tighter.

"don’t worry, i have years of experience!" he called over his shoulder to you whilst laughing to himself.

"tell me why i don’t believe that!" you shouted back as they sped down the beach. after a couple of seconds you began to relax a little more as you felt the wind blowing your hair in multiple directions.

you grinned as you lifted your head from his back to feel more of the wind, and let out a small laugh as you loosened your grip the tiniest bit on his waist. he smiled back at you before he joined the others in hooting and hollering in joy. soon you were speeding through the supports of the docks and before you knew it, the boys were swerving left and right down a dense path through the woods.

not even minutes later the boys slowed their bikes to a stop near the bluff. paul stood from his bike before turning to offer you a hand off. they led you down a staircase on the side of the cliffs which ultimately led into a cave.

"woah..." you awed as you spun in circles, taking everything in.

"amazing, isn’t it?" david grinned at your response as he took a seat on an old wheelchair. "this place used to be the hottest resort in santa carla, too bad they built it on a fault. when the big one hit san francisco in '06, this place took a header right into the crack."

"and now it’s ours." marko interrupted his story by dancing around atop the old fountain. "you like?"

you nodded with a small giggle. "it’s amazing! obviously a little dusty," you remarked sliding a finger across a table to collect the layer of dust settled on it. "but beautiful nonetheless."

"you just moved here?" david asked. "looking for a place to stay?"

"oh, no i didn’t move here." you explained quickly. "i’ve just been driving around the states since last july. trying to find somewhere to call home and nowhere's called my name yet."

"except this place." dwayne remarked for the first time that night. "this place is giving you an odd feeling."

"yeah..." you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows at him. "how'd you tell? that desperate?"

he shook his head with a small smile. "instincts i guess."

"you should stay here." paul suddenly spoke. "with us. with me."

you locked eyes with him and quite literally felt the rest of the world melt away. you’d never seen eyes that color blue, and in that moment you wished it was the only color you could have the pleasure of seeing for the rest of your life. as quickly as you were sucked into the trance, you quickly snapped yourself out of it. "you guys stay here?"

"hell yeah doll. no parents, no rules, just party all day, everyday." he jumped down from the fountain and wrapped both arms around your shoulders from behind. "just look around. you could stay here, young and wild forever." he chuckled at the last comment, and the way he said it almost made it seem like he was making some kind of joke to the others that only you weren’t in on.

"at least think about it sweets." he grinned and kissed your temple as your vision slowly started fading in and out. you watched as the other three stood and began making their way towards you.

"sleep, y/n." david lulled quietly. "there’s plenty time to make a decision when you wake."

you could’ve sworn you had just blinked, but when you opened your eyes again you were laying in a cheap motel room with a feeling sort of like a hangover that you had no explanation for.