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tgmsunmontue · 11 months ago

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It's not who you know 3/4

YEAR 3 - Non-angsty Nepo!Baby Bradley and his years at the USNA and his head-in-the-sand approach to the nepotism and the fact that he ends up being known as the guy with the two hot dads instead...

YEAR THREE - 2003 - PART 3

Bradley’s time in San Diego is now numbered in days rather than weeks and Tom helps him pack for his first extended stay on a cruiser. Tom wonders if his name was even put into a hat for a place on a submarine; unlike his relationship with Man and him, it’s no secret that Bradley wants to fly. If a carrier had been an option he’s pretty sure Bradley would have gotten that. He’s seen Bradley’s report though, knows he’s excelling in all areas, clearly determined to succeed and he’s so proud. Of course, Bradley still needs to take part in the standard summer activities, despite having grown up and having them happening around him constantly, getting dragged across the country to attend various things in his shadow.

“You know I’ll be visiting the USS Princeton while you’re onboard.”

“Yeah yeah, I promise not to have to be thrown overboard for insubordination.”

“No, that wasn’t… I was more thinking that you might find yourself hearing things about me which are going to make you want to pop someone in the nose.”

“Like what?”

“Oh god, all sorts of shit. People think I don’t know what they say behind my back but trust me, I know.”

“I haven’t heard anything!”

“You’ve not done any active service yet. Fresh greenie not even a proper upperclassman yet. You’ll hear stuff.”

The expression on Bradley’s face is equally angry and annoyed and Tom holds back a groan.

“Bradley, I’m serious. You’re really going to have to hold back if you get angry. Don’t worry about my honor okay. You’ve spent the last couple of years pretending you don’t know me and Mav at all, don’t blow your cover over something stupid that doesn’t matter. You understand?”

“Yeah. Thanks Ice. And thanks for going along with this whole thing, I know it probably feels a bit stupid some days, but it’s really nice knowing that the friends I’ve made are my friends because of me you know, not because of what connections I might have.”

“Yeah kid, I get it. Fair warning they might feel pretty pissed when they do find out though.”

“Nah, I’ve picked good friends. I reckon they’ll understand.”

“Okay. Now did you need anything else? I know Mav has been riding you hard about your flight hours…”

Mav of course has made the most of whatever spare time they’ve had and ensured Bradley built up his flight hours again so his license doesn’t lapse. Tom doesn’t think there are going to be very many other upperclassman with as much flight experience as Bradley. Talk about being overqualified. However he also knows it makes for a damn strong application so he’s supported Mav in his undertaking.

They say goodbye to Bradley on the porch, tell him they’ll see him onboard when he’s mixing with the enlisted personnel and Tom wishes they could watch him board, feels like it’s another milestone he’s going to miss. Reminds himself firmly that he’ll see him again onboard the same damn ship and he’ll have plenty of opportunities in the future to wave Bradley off on deployment.

… … …

He doesn’t punch anyone, didn’t even need the warning, wonders what Ice thinks people say about him. He’d heard them talk, but nothing more than him being brass and being very cool-headed in times of crisis. It’s all been pretty benign stuff really, and no-one had stopped talking when he entered a room or anything.

For the first time ever he puts up a photo of Ice and Mav beside his bed. It’s weird, but he can see why people don’t see Admiral Kazansky. He’s got a few copies of the photo, Slider having printed him off a bunch in thanks for forwarding him the electronic file and that is probably going to come back and bite him in the ass at some stage. Now he’s back in Bancroft, preparing to help with Plebe Summer, this time older and not being expected to have to deal with people yelling in his face while not reacting. It’s going to be a cake-walk in comparison to two years ago and he’s looking forward to it.

“You’re not meant to be in here,” Bradley says, seeing Natasha at the end of his dorm bed.

“I was sent to collect you, I have permission,” she says, hand waving away his concerns. “Let me look at that photo. Holy shit… I thought your first dad was hot, but your other dad? I mean… wow. I know I told you I like girls more than boys, but these are the type of boys that I prefer…” she says, tapping the photo. “Huh. Maybe it’s just men and women, because to be honest I don’t find anyone here very attractive.”

“Gross,” Bradley states, because he’s very firmly kept the company of his own hand when he’s been on base. His summers are probably a lot wilder than Mav or Ice think they are, but he tries to make use of every night he has home once they’re

“To you maybe… pretty sure you’d find my brother hot.”

“If I did, I wouldn’t tell you!”

“That’s because you’re repressed.”

“Rather be repressed than find either of my dads hot thanks!”

“Okay. That’s fair. And you probably won’t be too ugly once you grow into your face…”

“Wow, you really know how to flatter a guy…”

… … …

Plebe Summer starts and Bradley throws himself into being the best role model he can. He knows that in the future some of these people will be his peers, maybe even be his superior, but right now they have to get through what he still considers the hardest summer of their life. Of course hardly anyone drops out, the selection criteria is far too difficult and physically rigorous to make it something someone would easily just drop-out from without serious consideration first. There’s friendly competition and even friendlier encouragement, the brigades working together.

There’s one guy that keeps catching his eye and he’s not sure if it’s deliberate on the guy’s part, somehow magically putting himself nearly always in Bradley’s line of sight. Or whether he’s only got himself to blame, eyes just drifting to watch. Either way he’s really fucking horny and the guy is hot. Not that he will do anything, but it doesn’t stop him thinking about it.

“Now there is a guy who doesn’t need to grow into his looks…”

He silently agrees.

God what he wouldn’t do to get his hands on him.

Ah well. His own hands on his own body and his mind on another it is.

… … …

“Do I have a sign on me that says to tell me if you’re gay? Or a lesbian? Or bisexual?”

“Um… not literally. But there is the common knowledge that you have smoking hot dads and therefor okay with the gay.”

Bradley groans.

“I had another guy come out to me today. No reason. Just to tell me. Also he said he thinks we’re cute together.”

“Ew.”

“I just nodded and smiled.”

… … …

Michael Williams sighs. It’s the second… complaint? Notification? Information? Tips? Regardless, they’re both about Bradley Bradshaw’s relationship with Natasha Trace. They’ve been spied coming out of rooms together, otherwise small, dark, empty rooms like the store rooms. Fraternization. Actions unbecoming. Fuck. The kid wants to be treated like all the other kids, he’d be getting pulled into Mack’s office for a dressing down, short and sharp. Both of them would be.

Part of him wants to, still a little ticked off at the whole stunt Bradshaw is pulling. He’s not familiar with him outside of watching him last year, seeing a whole raft of his superior officers watch as Admiral Kazansky toured the campus dressed as a civilian. But also Bradshaw is good. He does everything well, more than well. And he’s cheerful and helpful and encourages the underclassmen and there had been no fault in any of his behavior.

Until now.

He walks down the corridor to Admiral Kerner’s office, nervous as he knocks on the open door.

“Sir. Do you have a moment?”

“Of course, come in.”

He does, closes the door behind him and notes the eyebrow raise and the lean back in the chair. He has his full attention.

“Sir. I need you to do a favor and make a call to your friend Kazansky.”

“Why, what’s happened?”

“I’ve got two instances of fraternization for Bradley Bradshaw and Natasha Trace.”

“And you want to do what? Tattle on him to his uncle?”

“No, I was actually after guidance on how I should proceed. I would pull them both into my office and give them a stern talking to, and a warning. Is that appropriate?”

“Bradshaw and Trace are the same rank Captain, it’s not exactly forbidden, just heavily frowned upon. The fact you have had two complaints tells me that this is more likely a case of sour grapes on whoever is complaining, so I’d be having a talk with them as well. But let me see if I can get Ice on the blower…”

Michael will never understand naval aviators and their call signs, but he stands and waits as Admiral Kerner dials, then asks to be put through. Obviously whoever it is on the other end knows not to mess with one Admiral ringing another. He listens to the one-sided conversation and watches Admiral Kerner’s face with interest.

“Hey Ice, it’s Sli. Yes, well, I didn’t think I’d be speaking to you today either. Look. Yeah. This is about Bradley. Did you talk to him about behavior?” Face curious, openly contemplative.

“Okay, so you covered that with him. Then why are we looking at two instances of fraternization?” Eyes narrowed and considering.

“No, it’s with a fellow midshipman. Also an upperclassman.” Serious.

“Yes, I’m aware it’s not actual fraternization.” An eyeroll.

“Yes, it is.” Face back to curious, speculative.

“Oh. Huh.” Surprise.

“I did think it was maybe a case of sour grapes, jealousy at his general capabilities and the fact that he’s generally well liked amongst his peers. Except by a couple apparently.”

“Yes well, he’ll be fine. We’ll pull them in and give them a heads up. Both of them. Midshipman Trace is equally talented and capable.”

“Yeah, was nice talking to you too. Will have to have a proper catchup when it’s not about work.”

… … …

Jake isn’t sure what he has to do to get the guys sole undivided attention, but he’s not going to give up trying. He’s so good at everything, competent in this easy way that turns him on in ways he’s never thought were possible, and he’s a teenager and being horny is pretty much a permanent state for him. Except when he’s too tired to even think, which unfortunately for his first year at USNA is a whole lot of the time. Either it gets easier or people just learn how to cope with everything better because Midshipman Bradshaw makes it look easy.

… … …

“Oh god, it was horrible. I can’t do it again. How do they do it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Submarines! Going under the water…”

“Uh…” Tom exchanges a look with Pete and opens his mouth. Closes it again. Bradley is back home for part of summer, having just experienced his first dive and he’s at a bit of a loss.

“Bradley. Buddy. Uh. You realize you’re in the Navy right? And that has, uh, a lot to do with the water?” Mav says.

“But I’m going to fly planes!”

“Maybe he should have joined the airforce,” Tom muses.

“You wash your mouth out right now!”

… … …

“Seriously, if I was going to fuck around I’d do it somewhere far less obvious than the fucking storeroom!”

Tom winces, because clearly Pete has heard the rumors about Bradley and Natasha Trace. God he loves the rumor mill of the US Navy, bunch of gossipers the lot of them. He hadn’t bothered mentioning anything, because he knew nothing was happening. Mav is of course mentioning it. In the worst possible way. Clearly having forgotten that Bradley came out as gay several years ago and that Natasha Trace is a woman. He’s going to need a coffee.

“Bradley! What do you mean Bradley? Don’t walk away from me young man!”

“You said we leave our ranks at the door with our shoes, so this conversation is over! And I said if!”

“I know what if means in this house, and it definitely means something definitely happened!”

… … …

“Do I even want to know?” Tom asks, taking a quiet sip of coffee.

“Mav’s scared I might be having sex.”

Tom raises an eyebrow, he’s fully aware Bradley’s been sneaking out for the last couple of years. He guesses Bradley’s now feeling mature enough to talk about it. Good.

“Are you being safe?”

“Yes.”

“Good enough for me. Don’t get caught.”

Bradley scoffs.

“I learnt from the best remember!”

“He got caught plenty of times,” Tom says dryly.

“I meant you Ice.”

“Oh.”

It’s been a long time since he’s blushed.

PART FOUR

#Nepo!Baby Bradley Bradshaw #IceMav #Top Gun Maverick #Top Gun Maverick Fanfiction #AU where Bradley goes to USNA #Hangster #creeping in there a tiny bit #it's not who you know

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akumaalert · 3 years ago

Note

not a request just sharing bc i couldn't stop thinking of just "what if lucky called heis good boy" like how he calls her good girl sometimes but like.. i'm pretty sure he would break

This was supposed to be a mini-fic....but...uh....it'll likely be the first chapter of "Divergence" instead LMAO But hope you enjoy!

Good Boy

Karl Heisenberg x Reader, Explicit

CW: Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Voyeurism, Happy Ending, Virgin!Karl Heisenberg

An AU happening during chapter 19 of "Heavy Metal Lover" but can be read without reading the main story.

"Unfh..."

That had been the first noise from Lucky besides the scratch of a pencil against paper that he had heard in about an hour.

Stuck in his office with her as he searched for a misplaced - not lost, just misplaced! - core schematic, Heisenberg tried to ignore the nagging thought of how domestic the space had become. Lucky never moved his things - something he was infinitely grateful for. He could recall too well his ever boiling frustration at having his room "cleaned" when living in the castle. The maids were well-meaning, but always adjusting. The room he had held would have felt more his own had he been able to move his own furniture around without the chambermaids fawning over him.

"No, no, young Lord Heisenberg! This is all wrong...off you go...go play...we will fix this mess."

Now on his own and in his element of chaos, he felt comforted, even if secretly so, that Lucky never seemed to complain.

Comforted...but cautious.

The day at the stronghold seemed stamped into his memory...right in the front for all to see. It remained a wonder Lucky didn't see it on his face.

The knowledge.

The horrible, horrible knowledge.

Love.

Staring at an old newspaper clip-out that he had saved with a picture of a modern car on its faded pages, he absently pushed the glasses back up his nose.

It tired him - the constant need to flip back and forth between acknowledging his feelings and thrusting them as far down as he could manage. Drowning them out with that beautiful sound of cinching machinery. Allowing them to seep into him with every laugh from her lips.

Heisenberg was starting to fall in love with the woman. The woman he had failed to kill - the lucky one to survive his maze. The woman his mother expected him to impregnate in order for Miranda's mad vessel to be born and to be killed all in the name of misery.

Misery otherwise known as Eva.

Slowly but certainly, Lucky was driving him insane. Reminding him of things he could never, ever have. Teasing him over and over for days on end.

Heisenberg remembered all too well his reason for entering the office. He had nearly sliced his own arm clean off his shoulder when he lost himself to his situation. To the possibility that, despite his body being so ill-suited for the task, Lucky could have his child. Would want his child. His thoughts, as they so often did, snapped back to the need for freedom - for the need for the arms to come loose from his latest corpse to transform them into one of his many soldiers.

But the more he thought of freedom, the more she sat in the background of his mind.

The more she sat there, the more his tired musings began to stitch together.

The more freedom and Lucky - the two dreams of his world - became intertwined.

He had been thinking of her - of Lucky - beside him the day that he won freedom from the village.

Won freedom...and her.

"You did it, Heis! You did it!"

Lucky would never know how dear it was to him...the fact that her emotions ran so freely with her very being. Beaming. She would do nothing less than beam at him. Her eyes would glow and crinkle at their tails as they did when she gave him her most genuine smiles.

"You did it. You're free. Our...our family is free."

"...family?"

She would grab his hand. Just one. He needed the other steady on her cheek.

Lucky would bring that hand clasped in her own to her belly.

"Our family..."

"Our...another...another Heisenberg?"

In his dreams, she shyly escaped his gaze to nod.

"You...you haven't been alone. Not with me. Not with the start of our family. But now...now, Heis..." Her eyes popped back up all soft and sincere. "Now you'll never be alone again. Not with our baby Heisenberg on the way..."

The only break from his reverie was the slice to one of his favorite stained t-shirts. Only the fact that it was Heisenberg's powers directing the saw had it falling to the floor instead of through his tensed skin.

Heisenberg could only stand in shocked silence. The arm that had been spared from the violence came to grab his shoulder. Though no injury had occurred, he felt stabbed all the same.

Family...and joy?

Lucky...with him?

Another Heisenberg...alive?

A thought washed over him like ice entering his veins.

A boy or a girl...would we have a boy or a girl first?

First.

As if Lucky wished to be objected to more of his perverted and preposterous daydreams.

When he left the room, the metal was still shaking.

"Gotta get that fucking schematic...keep forgetting it...keep going to the office and...fuck...keep talking to her. Gotta stop fucking talking to her. Schematic. Get the fucking schematic."

Lucky had been asleep in bed when he first entered. A rushing relief to his soul. But as the search for the schematic went from flipping through one file to frantically reshuffling the wayward stack the paper should have been in, he knew it was only a matter of time before she would appear.

"Oh...ah!" Lucky yawned all cute and squeaky. "Good morning, Heis."

"Morning," he said flatly. "You...you move any of these lately?"

"No," she said sleepily. "I don't touch those...way above my pay grade. What are you looking for?"

"Core schematic," he grumbled. "Not fucking here...where the hell did I put it?"

Though Lucky made a very pointless questioning noise, she said nothing as she sat down and began her daily transcriptions. Hell, he had been grateful. She showed concern because she was simply a good person beneath all of the trauma and the terror she had reigned on his self-image. But she didn't pry or attempt to enter his space afterward where she would clearly only be in the way.

But that was before her second moan filled the office.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, never looking up from his stack of papers.

A frustrated sigh and a grumble came from the desk chair.

"Think I slept on my neck funny last night," she said. "Doesn't help that my posture is shit. Just making it impossible to find a good angle to work in."

Growing agitated at his fruitless search, Heisenberg whipped around to look at her. "Want some help?"

"Mmn?"

"Want a massage or something?" he offered. "A...ha! You'll find this funny. Supersized one up in the castle? Used to love to make me massage her neck when I was a kid. Fucking manual labor when I was barely old enough to write. Had maids to do it - an assload at that - and forced me to instead."

Raising an eyebrow at him, Lucky frowned. "Was it...did she...did she hurt you? Like...if you didn't do it?"

"Ah nah," he said, taking careful steps over to Lucky. "Told you...when I was a kid, I was off limits. I whine about it now...but...well...I was a kid. Bitch loves kids. So I had to massage her back...but only part of this stupid salon thing we used to do together. It was nothing. Stupid. Just like her."

He did not know what to make of Lucky's face. Tilting her head, she steadied a look on him that could only be called curious.

"It's...it's a good memory? Of Alcina when you were small?"

Heisenberg scoffed.

"It's a memory," he said, standing behind Lucky with a wide stance and an even wider stare at her neck. "Not good or bad...just...there. Now...where's it hurt, kid?"

Raising a hand, Lucky placed her fingers on a section of her neck before swirling her touch.

"Ah...there...like just this one spot, but fanning out..."

"Okay...looks like your C7."

"My what now?"

Chuckling, Heisenberg moved her hand out of the way. "Your C7 vertebrae. Duck your chin down so I can get in here properly."

Doing as she was told, Lucky's head moved forward and Heisenberg placed his gloved hands against her neck. His thumbs encased the pained area and began to move in slow yet sturdy circles.

Lucky immediately began squirming.

"Can you maybe try without the gloves?" she asked. "Those are like...rough or something."

Casting off his gloves quickly, Heisenberg rolled his shoulders before trying again. "Wah, wah, wah...doing you a favor and you're out here complaining. That better, your highness?"

"Yes, actually," she said, relaxing. "And thank you. Asshole."

Puffing air out of his mouth, Heisenberg merely shook his head as he kneaded her skin.

"Mmn!"

Heisenberg tried to hide his stillness by immediately starting to massage her skin again.

But the noise could not be ignored.

"What was that?"

"Your hands...they're so warm. Fuck...feels good."

"Oh..." he said dumbly. Blinking down at her, he turned his head away as he kept his fingers in motion.

The fact that his cock had begun to waken in his pants was not lost on him.

"Are you using your electric powers? Is that why it feels so good?"

"Nah...really shouldn't do that on the living above the waist."

Above the waist...but below the waist...

"Ah," he continued, running his teeth over the scar on his lower lip. "Cause of the heart or whatever. Probably your brain too from this angle. Could fry both without meaning to. And I was working...earlier. Probably why they feel hot."

Lucky sighed as he continued to work her neck. His fingers were sweeping but slow. He had started off so intently and so rough. What had happened?

I felt her skin. Felt her beneath me. Felt her neck...for all she knows I could snap it right now and instead of being afraid she's welcoming me...she trusts me...trusts me enough to let me do this...

The next round of his fingers on her neck dipped into skin purposeful in their worship.

Her response was immediate.

"Oh...oh...good boy," she whispered.

To say he was lost for words was like calling water wet.

Though he kept his massage in a rhythmic round, his eyes were wide as they could possibly be behind his glasses. So wide that they hurt.

What the hell did she just do to me?

If he had to go off of physical injury, he would say she punched him in the stomach with all the force of a train running at full speed.

If he had to go off of an attack to his psyche, he would say she wormed her way into some long buried and forgotten wire that sent his entire brain into overdrive.

If he had to go off the erection now straining against his paints, he would say that he was royally fucked.

"You really are so good at this," she said, her voice still breathless. "Good boy...my good boy, Heis."

Heisenberg snatched his hands away as if Lucky were lava.

"Wait! No...what's wrong?" she asked, turning slightly to look at him.

If she looks down...if she sees...

"GOTTA TAKE A SHIT!" he exclaimed suddenly.

Lucky's mouth dropped open as she gaped at him.

Then she nodded with a laugh playing at her lips.

"Yeah. Go. Just come back and finish your massage."

Before he could finish blinking, he found himself storming down the hallway.

Well...intending to storm. His gait was impacted a bit by his dick standing at full mast and his hands hurriedly attempting to unbuckle the straps around his pants.

So FUCKING dumb. A shit? Really? he thought, visibly grimacing. It would have probably been less embarrassing to admit I was about to jack it to her calling me hers.

Hers...her good boy...good...I'm her good boy...hahaha...

What am I? A fucking dog?

...don't answer that.

Rushing into the break room, he considered the couch before catching sight of the bathroom. With a flick of one wrist as his other hand pulled his cock from his underwear and pants, Heisenberg slammed open the bathroom door.

He managed to slide his pants down his legs as he sat on the toilet and closed the door with the weakest of hand movements.

Finally free from judgment, Heisenberg hissed as he fumbled his glasses to the nearby counter and took himself into his hand.

"Good boy...her good boy...fuck...fuck yeah I am, baby..."

A groan and a grunt fell from his lips as he jerked his hand along his shaft.

All too often this act had been nothing but release from tension. An exploration so technical and so tedious as to be boring. But now with Lucky at his side and in his bed - however platonically she slept there - the images that plagued him seemed vibrantly real and tempting in their joyful teasing.

Imaginings - hopes and dreams and fantasies - that he could only cling onto in the moment.

The desk.

He would take her right on that same desk she was taking notes on.

"Oh, Karl," she would say, despite not knowing his first name. "Gonna be my good boy?"

"Yes," he said aloud, eyes closing and mind prickling with sights of her and waves of pleasure.

Lucky would be splayed on his desk - lying on her back and presenting herself to him as if she were a meal to be consumed instead of a darling treasure to worship.

"That's good...only good boys are allowed to fuck me. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yes...yes...god fucking damnit. YES." Huffing and hating the tremble in his thighs, Heisenberg bucked into his hand. "Yes...only me...wanna be your good boy. I'll be so good for you. Only you, Mein Schatz..."

A dirty laugh from her lips. The Lucky of his dreams becoming more and more defined as she palmed one breast and teased her clit with the fingers of her other hand.

"Mmm...know what you're saying you know...my treasure...that's so cute...been feeling the same way about you lately...thinking of you...dreaming of you...my good boy want to tell me what else he's been feeling? Mmn? Big boy wanna tell me before you put your cock inside of me?"

Lips loose along with his pleasure, Heisenberg found he could not build his voice to say the words aloud.

So he mouthed them instead. Mouthed them and stuttered in his quest for pleasure as his hand curled about his shaft at the "lah" tipping silently from his tongue.

"Oh, darling..." A smile. She'd smile. Genuine and sweet and sincere and all for him. "I love you too, Karl."

"Mmnnn....ah...fu-UCK!" With a panicked inhale, Heisenberg quickly pinched the head of his cock to prevent his end from coming too soon. "No, no, no...not yet...not yet...please..."

Though the pleasure was unlike anything he had previously experienced and his calves clenched in protest of a release delayed, his oncoming orgasm stalled and began to fade.

"Such a good boy," said Lucky, eyeing him in his fantasy like she would look at a drink of water on a hot day. "That's right. You don't come until I tell you to. Understand?"

A nod of his head.

"Good, good boy. My good boy. Good Karl. Come on...think it's time you got your treat...here...I'll help you..."

With her fingers moving to fully expose the inside of that wet and preciously pink pussy of hers, Lucky looked up at him with a lidded look.

Heisenberg had no experience with another person when it came to handling his physical pleasure. Hell, with any pleasure or positive feeling at all. Except maybe the triumph of victory over others, he had never had the chance to experience happiness - true happiness and trust and faith in another soul.

Until her.

And for her...for her he would indulge and give himself freely...if only locked away inside of his mind.

Inexperience taking a back seat to passion, he pictured himself guiding his cock into her waiting and welcoming body. Maybe he would steady himself with a hand on her hip or simply with a heated stare into her eyes.

He all but strangled his cock to try to mimic a feeling he had never known and had never thought to miss before her.

"Uh-huh," whined Lucky in his dreams. "Oh...you're so big...fill me up just right. So fucking thick..."

"Hah...ah...your good boy big enough for you?"

"Yes...oh yes...yes...so big...such a perfect dick...please...please Karl...Heis...please, baby, please...Heis?"

When he began to rut into his own hand with a purpose, he felt flames like that of standing directly beside the blaring crucible dancing across his cheeks. Though some of his daydream seemed vague and hard to read, he had enough to know that he could not delay the inevitable for much longer. Lucky - the real and actual Lucky - was still waiting for him back in the office. Waiting and none the wiser to his desperate need for her affection. It sickened him - the want for anything and everything to do with her.

Sickened him...and sent electric shocks of white pleasure down his spine.

"So fucking perfect...you're so fucking perfect for me, Lucky...oh..."

"Heis..."

"Huh...ah...already so close...so damn worked up...can't stand it...can't stand you looking like that..."

"Like what?"

Heaving and heatedly squirming where he sat, Heisenberg noticed for the first time that one of his boots jutted up and down on the floor beneath him. As if his entire body refused to be still.

"Most beautiful fucking thing I've ever seen," he bit out. "Please...please, Luck...I know it's soon...but please..."

A tilted head and a gentle grin. A pointer finger that danced around her clit and drew his eyes away only long enough for her to breathe out shallow and short. His eyes snapped back to hers immediately.

"Please what?"

"Please let me come...let me come inside you...wanna...wanna take you...claim you...don't want you with anyone else ever again."

Glinting eyes and lush eyelashes.

"You're gonna be all that to me, Heis? Well...in that case..."

Her lips finding his own. His very first kiss - albeit imaginary. Her lips soft but without taste. His own lips puckering even as they trembled from the need for more.

"In that case," she continued, taunting him in his ear. "Come, Heis. Be a good boy and come for me."

Hindsight would have him chastising himself for not thinking to grab some tissue. In the moment, however, he was too busy panting and watching his cum dot the floor in thick strips. Heisenberg growled...tried to hold on to the image of her with one eye still closed.

Reality settled in on him. Settled in even as his stomach quivered underneath his shirt and his orgasm began to relax into his bones. It was pleasant and his every nerve seemed to stand on edge. Tingles of pleasure radiated from his chest to his feet flat against the floor. Gulping in air, he knew he had never come so hard before in his life. It was good...great even.

But it was not her. It was not enough.

Clean up was a quick and tedious affair. Lucky could not know what he had done in her quarters. The tissues he found too late to wipe his seed from the floor were tossed and flushed away. He checked the room once and then again once his shades were back on his face.

Finishing the belt at the top of his pants, he cleared his throat before exiting.

The television in the break room still hummed though it sat completely dead in the meager light from the ceiling.

Shit...glad she wasn't in here. Never had anyone here to care about when I got down to business...no telling what my powers do with electronics...

The schematic. He had to find that damn schematic.

Trying to level his breathing as he stalked the hallway, Heisenberg considered the day before him. Lucky had not wished to attend a revitalization attempt with him yet. While he didn't intend to push her into seeing something that might scar her again, it might be worthwhile to have her eyes in the room at some point. She hadn't complained about the notes yet. Maybe he should offer? Make it sound like a small deal and let her in when it was near completion? Give her a taste before exposing her to more?

Fucking stupid...it's all so fucking stupid...what happened to me? If she were any assistant, I would just drag her ass there and have her record the whole thing. Fuck me with all this concerned shit.

But she's not just any assistant...

Entering the office, he stilled at the doorway when he saw Lucky facing him from her chair.

"Uh...hey," he said, licking his lips. "Sorry about that. Took...ah...let's just forget it."

"Actually," she began. "I need to be honest with you. Because of what happened before..."

Eyebrows shooting up, he stood in silence before she continued.

"Um...so...I was sitting here...sitting here and trying to rub my neck or whatever..."

"Yes?"

"Well...the radio came on and it freaked me out a little bit..." She paused, her fidgety look dropping to the floor. "But...the more I listened...the more I...recognized your voice."

"My...my voice?"

"Yes."

Heisenberg could not move. He shouldn't be looking at her, but he was afraid if he blinked that the tension would break and she would begin laughing or cursing or, worst of all, apologizing.

"Umm...it...I heard you. And I guess you were...I guess it was real time." A tent of her fingers and a swallow in her throat. "I heard your comment and responded and...I think...I think you could hear me too. Possibly? You seemed to...seemed to be replying to what I said directly."

Shame. Shame for a million years fell on his shoulders that had felt so light before.

"Where?" he managed to say. "Where did you come in? What comment did you respond to?"

How she looked at him, he had no idea. She was far braver than he could ever be. Heisenberg planned to face down Miranda without a single hesitation one day on that glorious battlefield where his freedom could be won.

But now? Faced with Lucky standing and walking toward him with the full weight of her eyes upon him?

He looked away.

"You said...you asked me if my good boy was big enough for me."

The purr in her voice. The sound of her steps growing closer. The burn in his throat.

"After that," she said. "I called your name...I...responded to you and you to me."

"That didn't...I..." He shook his head. "I...umm..."

"Can I hold your hand?"

Head shooting up, Heisenberg caught her heated look. The same heated look she had worn in his dreams.

He nodded. Nodded even though he barely registered it until she took his hand and steps to press herself flush against him.

When she spoke, it was hushed and low.

For him and him only.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom...freshen up. Since we know you can communicate from the radio to the television...I want you to tell me when it's okay to come back here. I'm giving you two options."

Heisenberg hung on her every word and looked at her as if she controlled his every movement.

"The first...you can leave. Can give me enough time to go there...find what you were looking for...then tell me you're off to do whatever. I won't mention this again. We won't mention it."

Silence fell between the two of you. A crackle of the radio to the side of the room.

"And the other option?" he asked, voice nearly breaking.

A shy look. A happy tilt of her lips.

"The other option...you can rest for a bit before I come back here and make whatever fantasy you were having come true."

A mouth drier than dry left his tongue feeling too large. Too large and too needed to swipe across his lips.

"You don't have to answer now-"

"The second one," he said. "Second one. Want that one. Screw the first one."

A bright and happy smile. A smile that crinkled the tail of her eyes and lit up her face.

She was beaming at him. Squeezing his hand before parting from him.

Not for long...not for damn long if he could help it.

"You give me the word then, good boy," she teased, walking out of the room.

Legs nearly buckling and sending him to the ground, Heisenberg took uneasy steps to his office chair before throwing himself on it. His entire body buzzed, though it seemed far less like electricity and far more like promise and hope. Not love on her end...not yet. But a maybe. Potential.

More.

Grinning stupidly and looking at the desk, he made quick work of clearing the area for the fun he planned on having from his daydream to come true.

As soon as he picked up the recorder Lucky used to transcribe his notes, Heisenberg saw it.

That damned schematic.

His last visit to this same room. A note on said schematic stating "DON'T FORGET" in large words. A note he carelessly put there before guiding Lucky to sit down to look at her transcriptions and laugh with her over the sixth stable boy in one week to die of drunken stupidity.

Quietly and contentedly, he opened the desk drawer to stuff the schematic inside.

"Mmn...don't think I'll need you for a while yet actually..." Eyeing the radio on the wall, Heisenberg tossed his glasses to the table and tried to slick and perfect the wiry hair about his head. "Oh, Lucky, honey...room is ready whenever you are...and so is your good boy."

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heavy metal lover #divergence #good boy #asks #the alcina bit is carried over to hml #i can see her doing cute salon days with the kids #heisenberg complains about it now #but then?#highlight of his little emo life #smut

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cjsinkythoughts · 4 years ago

Text

A History Lesson

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 4741

Warnings: Vulgar language, I think that’s it (it’s mainly fluff like Bucky’s)

Summary: You never were fond of history...but if history gives you a man like that? Maybe you could deal with it.

A/N: Here it is! A little later than I had hoped, but my brother is visiting, it was his birthday this week, work’s been a bit hectic, and I ended up writing a little something for Bucky’s birthday on Wednesday, which I didn’t mean to. I got it done, though! First Date with our dear Cap’n Spangles! I have all the First Date ideas for the other Avengers lined up, but I think I’m gonna put this on hiatus for now. I’m gonna try focusing on my College!AU at the moment. If you guys want, I’ll share my First Date plans, though. If I find time, I’ll write the next one. If you haven’t noticed, I have a fondness for collages, so I might do what I’m doing for my College!AU Project and make collages for the other First Dates before writing them. Anyways, enough with my ramblings. Enjoy the date!

You keep checking the clock, waiting for this lecture to be done. You typically enjoy school, but history isn’t a strong suit for you. You try in history, you really do, but all the information - the dates, people, places - it’s too much. You constantly mix things up, no matter how hard you study. And you don’t really get the hype. Who cares what these dead guys did? It happened, it’s done, and it’s time to move on.

“That’s all for today! Don’t forget your papers are due on Monday! You’re dismissed!”

You let out a groan at the mention of the cursed research paper. You had stayed up for hours the previous nights working on it, but so far you have squat. The essay is on the Second World War (more specifically the differences of life between Americans and Europeans at the time), and you know you should’ve done it when it was given a week ago, but your shitty memory makes it difficult to write a paper without five million textbooks in front of you and you don’t have time to go to the library every night between work, friends, and other projects. So, you haven’t done it yet.

Exhausted, mentally and physically, you collect your things and head out of the lecture hall. You pull out your phone to text your friends, telling them you have to work on a paper tonight and you can’t meet up for dinner like you all usually do on Fridays. Deciding to take a breather before working, you start out to the bench overlooking the Potomac River, which you always sat at to relax and just…be. The scenic walk through DC and the sight of the steady river flowing besides the busy city always calms you.

You sit there for a few moments, letting the slight breeze chill the skin that’s warmed by the sun, listening to it ruffle the trees. The blush pink blossoms that appear when Spring sings her song and chases away Winter flutter to the newly grown, bright green grass below. You enjoy all the seasons, unable to help but love the unique beauty each brings, and Spring is no exception, despite the allergies and tests she brings.

And speaking of tests…

A soft sigh passes your lips as you get out your laptop. You might as well start writing, or at least researching, that paper. You never were good at relaxing when there’s work to be done.

You’re so engrossed in getting the stupid essay done and over with that you don’t notice the jogger who pauses in his run by the very bench you are slaving away on. “Savin’ this seat for anyone?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. Go ahead.” You answer distractedly, not even looking up from your screen as the owner of the deep voice sits besides you.

A few more minutes pass in comfortable silence, before you ruin it with a grumble and delete half the paragraph you just wrote. “That doesn’t make sense.” You change tabs to look over the information on the page you have pulled up again, only to furrow your eyebrows. You’re pretty sure the information is wrong. You may have a shitty memory, but you’re sure that the information given on this page is in contrast to the information given in the book you were reading a couple days ago.

“What’re you workin’ so hard on there, honey?”

You let out a huff, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. “Some dumb research paper for school! It’s on World War Two, and I can’t remember what’s right and what’s wrong and it’s a stupid topic anyways that my stupid teacher assigned! Who fucking cares about a hundred years ago? And how the hell am I supposed to know this? I wasn’t alive! You know what I…”

The words die on your tongue as you finally glance over at the stranger keeping you company.

Blonde hair that seems gold with the way the sun is hitting the strands, which are damp and in slight disarray due to his exercise. Bright blue eyes reflecting the sky above, hidden beneath long lashes that you’re immediately envious of. Pretty pink lips, matching the cherry blossoms on the trees surrounding you, pulling up into an amused sort of smile. The makings of a beard lining his jaw and littering his cheeks.

Steve Rogers. Captain America. You just ranted about how stupid history is to Captain fucking America. You just ranted about how you have to write a dumb essay on World War Two to Captain fucking America.

Ignoring the way your body heats up, starting in your toes and climbing up your legs, chest, and neck to reach the tips of your ears, a nervous little chuckle is all you can give. You clear your throat, trying to think of how to apologize. “I guess you wouldn’t know what I mean, huh?”

What in the ever loving fuck was that? That was not an apology!

You clear your throat and try again. “I-I mean…sorry. It’s not - I didn’t mean-”

“No, no. It’s fine, sweetheart.” The grin he shoots you makes you glad you aren’t standing up, knowing full well your knees would’ve buckled if you were. You open your mouth to apologize again, but he shakes his head before you can speak. “Really. It’s okay. I get it. I used to be a student too. And you’re right; it was a long time ago and there’s a lot of things that happened. Even I have a hard time keeping track of everything that went down.”

You merely blink at him, nodding slowly. Say something. For the love of God, please just say something. Anything! “Yeah. I can barely remember what I had for breakfast this morning.” Really? You’re sitting besides the one and only Captain America and that’s what you decide to say?

You feel yourself slump your shoulders slightly, trying to shrink down into absolute nothingness. But even that wouldn’t work because he’s got that friend of his that could shrink and he’d find you. It seems that you were destined to be embarrassed in front of one of the most beautiful human beings on the planet. Screw the universe.

Instead of teasing you or embarrassing you further, he chuckles and nods in agreement, his eyes lighting up. “You’re not the only one. My pal Clint has got the absolute worst memory. We tease him all the time for it. How he became an agent with the memory of a goldfish, I’ll never know.” You laugh at that, your muscles relaxing and your anxiety easing up.

“Yeah, well, I’ve gotta get through college before I’m in the clear.”

“Don’t worry about it, honey. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Uh…so, a World War Two paper, huh? Need some help? I’m kind of an expert on the topic.”

Breath hitching as he scoots closer, you swallow thickly and shrug. “I don’t want to bother you. You look like you’re in the middle of a run.” You gesture to the tight ass t-shirt hugging his torso that you’re sure is sizes too small for him and the joggers hanging off his hips.

Following your gesture, he looks down, before shaking his head. “Nah. I’ve already ran a few more miles than I was going to today.”

“Are-are you sure?”

There’s that grin again. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive him tutoring you if he keeps giving you that adorable toothy smile. “Honest. I’ve got the rest of the day. We can go to the library if you want. Or we can stay here. Whatever works best for you. I don’t mind either way.”

You blink again, like an idiot, as you process his words. Whatever works best for you. What a gentleman. “Uhh…I was about to head to the library anyways, but I really don’t want to bother you-”

“Trust me, honey. It’d be my pleasure.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

You let out a soft laugh and nod at his insistence, starting to pack up your things. “Okay. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You stand up as he does and offer your hand.

“Steve. But I guess you figured that out.” Taking your hand, you expect him to shake it, but he squeezes it softly and brings it to his lips instead.

Clearing your throat, you tease him a bit to hide your bashfulness at his actions. “You’re a real gentleman, aren’t you?”

He shrugs with a slight smirk, gently dropping your hand and letting it go after another squeeze. “My momma raised nothing less.”

“I’m sure she’d be proud.”

His playful eyes go slightly more somber at that, his smirk morphing into a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Giving no reply, you smile softly and nod your head to the path. He nods back before quickly falling into step besides you, asking you more about your paper as you walk to the library.

* * * * * * * *

Giggling behind your hand to stay quiet, or at least attempt to since you both had already been berated by the librarians for being too loud, your attention is once again diverted to Steve and his stories.

It started out fine; he helped you find reliable books and told you which things were true. But not even half an hour passed before Steve told you a story about the Howling Commandos after something in a book reminded him of it. Your concentration since then has been split between your paper and Steve’s retelling of his past.

“Sorry. I keep distracting you. What’s next?”

You snicker again and shake your head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m almost done anyways. I’ve actually written down a few things you said, if you don’t mind me using them. My professor can’t exactly argue with Captain America, now can he?”

His lips pull up and his shoulders shake in silent laughter. “I guess not. Of course I don’t mind. You can quote me anytime. See?” He nudges you with his shoulder playfully. “History isn’t so bad.”

“Not when you’re telling it.” You respond earnestly, grinning up at him.

“Eh, Bucky’s always been a better storyteller than me.” He gives a little shrug and rubs the back of his neck.

You shake your head at his modesty. “Well I think you do just fine. You’re the first person to get me interested in history. Hey, can you read this over for me? I just need to finalize this paragraph and do the conclusion.”

When you receive silence as an answer, you look over at the blonde with an eyebrow raised. The ocean eyes scanning over you make you a bit self conscious, so you shift slightly in your seat, making him come back from whatever thoughts overtook his mind. “Sorry. Of course I can, honey. That’s what I’m here for. Let me see.”

He gives you a few pointers on what to add and what to get rid of, before you finally finish, saving your work and closing your laptop with a huff.

“What a mind workout. I’m sure my brain’s got abs now.”

Heads swivel towards you two as Steve guffaws, a lady a few tables down shushing him. He apologizes, still snickering. “Abs, huh?”

“I mean, not as good as yours but…” You freeze, inwardly facepalming. And you were doing so well.

He gives you a cheeky grin. “I’ve got good abs?”

“Oh don’t give me that!” You hiss out quietly. “You know you have good abs. I’m just stating facts is all.”

Another soft chuckle leaves those pretty lips and he twists in his seat to crack his back before standing to collect the books you both got out. “When’s the paper due again?”

You stand to help him, but you get a case of the butterfingers just as you go to pick the books up, making the pile tumble to the floor. “Ah shit.” Steve smiles gently at you as you huff and give him an exasperated look. “My bad.”

He snickers, bending down to help you despite having his own books to carry, like the gentleman he is. “So? Due date?”

“Monday.” You answer with a sigh, straightening up. You carefully set the books on the table to pile them better. “We should get the grade back by Friday.”

He hums, taking a few more books in those strong arms of his. “Ah, well, you’ll get a good grade. I believe in you.”

You smirk at him as you shift your bag so you could carry books under your arms. “I’m sure I will with your help, Captain.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes at your teasing manner. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Of course. I had a good time.” He sends that stunning smile your way and this time you are standing. Luckily you have a table to lean on casually instead of falling on your face. “Plus, now you’ve got a free weekend.”

“Ugh. I wish.” You shake your head. “This is my final semester before I graduate. There’s loads to do. But this makes it easier.” Heading through the aisles of the library, you catch sight of the time on a clock on the wall and your eyes widen. You’d been there for a little over three hours! “Damn! I’m sorry I took up your Friday, though. I’m sure there’s things you want to do before you have to go back to New York, huh?”

Shrugging his broad shoulders, he runs a hand through his golden locks and drops the books he had in his arms on the desk for returns. “Not really. I’m here for the next couple weeks, actually. Meetings and stuff. Plus, it doesn’t even take me an hour to get here, so I can really come whenever I want.”

“That’s nice.” You follow his lead and set your books down, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I wish I could go to New York whenever I want. I’m way too poor for that.”

He chuckles again. You’ll never get tired of the sound of his laughter. “I’m sure you’ll get there one day.”

You shrug half heartedly, not really believing him. You’re barely making it in DC. There’s no way you could make it in the Big Apple. “Sure. Someday. I’m serious, though. I’m sorry you wasted your time with some stressed out college student instead of enjoying time with your friends.”

“I’m serious too, honey. It’s no problem; I enjoyed it. And it’s not a waste of my time. Not as long as you get a good grade.”

You laugh as the two of you head out of the building, stopping on the steps and facing each other. “How will you know if I get a good grade?”

He purses his lips in thought. “Meet me at the bench next Friday.” He finally said, his eyes sparkling. “Then we’ll see. Until then, Y/N.”

You grin, taking the large hand he offers you, firmly shaking it before he can kiss your knuckles, making him snicker. “Until then, Steve.”

* * * * * * * *

Feet pounding against the concrete, you practically jump when you spot the man already sitting at the bench. “Steve!” You shout happily, waving your paper in the air. The blonde shoots up, a brow raised in curiosity. “I got a 97!”

You come to a halt in front of him, but it’s too quick, so your clumsy feet trip over each other. Before you can fall, he catches you with ease, smiling down at you in amusement. Small pants leave your lips as sweat trickles down your spine. Where’s that breeze when you need it?

“Uhm…oops?” What the hell was that?! That was embarrassing, that’s what it was!

He chuckles, straightening you up. “You were saying?”

With pride lifting up the corners of your mouth, you shove the paper at his chest, once again grateful that he ignored your blunderings. “97%!”

“I told you you’d be fine. And I knew it wasn’t a waste of my time.” Steve looks up from the paper to give you a toothy grin.

“Thank you again.” You take the paper he hands back to you and shove it in your bag. “I probably would’ve failed the class without this grade. Is there really nothing I can do to pay you back for your time?”

He taps his chin in faux-thought, before tilting his head innocently. “You can loan me some of your time on Sunday.”

You purse your lips, confusion written over your features. “My time? On Sunday? Oh!” You light up, figuring he just needs help with something. “Yeah, duh. Okay. What do you need help with? I can promise I’ll try my hardest, but I might not-”

“No, no. Honey, that’s not-” he laughs, shaking his head and grabbing your hand to make you stop rambling. “I’m askin’ you out.”

“Out?” You pause, registering what that meant. “Like…on a date?” Is he serious? There’s no way he wants to go on a date with you. You pretty much called his life story boring, to his face, and then made him spend three hours on a Friday evening at the library working on a college paper with you.

He snickers with a nod. “Yes, on a date. So whaddya say, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” You blurt out without thinking, before you shy back, feeling yourself heat up as you tend to do around this God of a man. “Y-yeah. Yeah, I’d love to. Sunday. I can do that.”

He beams adorably, like a child being allowed to buy his favorite candy bar. Or a puppy with his favorite toy. Yeah…he reminds you of a puppy. Which only makes him that much cuter.

“Awesome! Meet me here at noon. Does that work?”

You nod vigorously. “That works perfectly.”

“Perfect.” He repeats, before taking your hand and bringing your knuckles to his lips once more.

* * * * * * * *

You’re sitting on the bench, tapping your toes nervously and checking your phone every minute. He said noon and it’s only eleven thirty. It’s a bit inconvenient, to say the least, when the place you go to relax is the place you’re meeting the person making you anxious. You could barely sleep the previous night, too many doubts lingering in your head. You seem to always be making a fool of yourself in front of him, but he was the one who asked you out, so that had to count for something.

You try not to think too hard about it, instead thinking back to last Friday in the library and how his features lifted when he told stories of his childhood and the Howling Commandos and the grin he got when he told you about the things they used to do that would get them in trouble.

“But I’m Captain America, and who’s gonna say no to this face?”

A little giggle leaves your lips as you remember his words, before you’re startled back to reality as a familiar smooth voice sounds besides you.

“Whatcha giggling at, honey?”

You whip over to see Steve grinning in amusement, leaning on the back of the bench. Your eyes drag down his figure. Another too tight t-shirt showing every ridge and curve on his torso, a jacket over his broad shoulders along with a casual pair of jeans. You had seen a meme about Steve having the proportions of a Dorito and, looking at him now, you can see how true it was. It almost makes you laugh again, but you remember what exactly is happening, and you suddenly can’t find anything funny.

“Sweetheart? You alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yes. Yeah. I’m fine. I was just…thinking.”

He raised an eyebrow, smirking and leaning his forearms against the back of the bench next to where you’re sat. “And those adorable little giggles?”

There’s that familiar flush that you’ve learned to ignore, praying to God he didn’t notice your heart skipping a beat. “Uh, I just remembered something. That’s all.”

He gives a little hum, before hopping over the back and landing besides you. “Seems like we both had the same idea. Gettin’ here early.”

“If you must know, I was just…” You shrug. “To be honest, I’m a little anxious.”

“I’m not that scary, am I?” He teases, nudging you gently.

You roll your eyes and give him a look. “I don’t think there’s a bone in your body capable of being scary. I’m just…I’m nervous I’m gonna embarrass myself…again.”

Steve shakes his head, looking at you earnestly. “You’re not gonna embarrass yourself.”

Picking at the hem of your shirt, you scoff, shaking your head. “I already have. The amount of times I’ve tripped or said something stupid or rambled, which I’m doing right now, or-”

“Honey, honey. Slow down.” The blonde chuckles. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I find all of those things endearing. Now, the amount of times I’ve seen my teammates slip and fall on their faces while chasing an enemy? That’s embarrassing. Just the other day, Buck tripped on the roof of a car. Sam has it recorded.”

You let out a laugh at that and nod. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all insecure on you-”

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Steve insists. “Now,” he stands and offers his hand. “Let’s go get some lunch, yeah?”

You look at his hand before looking up at him and taking it without hesitation. “Okay.”

* * * * * * * *

After rounds of questions during lunch, Steve took you around the Smithsonian to all the different museums. Just like history, you had never been overly fond of museums. You typically walked around for a little bit, never really reading the information, only enjoying the pictures.

It’s different with Steve. Just like how it was different writing the research paper with him. He makes everything interesting, telling you his own facts and stories. Especially once you get to his exhibit in the Air and Space Museum.

Once you arrive, he puts on a hat and ducks his head, trying not to bring attention to you both while on a date. You tease him a bit, swinging your linked hands as you walk in with a cheeky grin. He nudges you with his elbow, his own smile painted on his lips.

You can’t help but listen and hold onto his every word, as if you’d die if you forget a single sentence. The light in his eyes as he talks about his past, showing you the pictures and plaques excitedly. Like a child during show and tell, he’s practically skipping from exhibit to exhibit, dragging you along behind him.

Giggling at his elation, you eagerly, and with no resistance, let him take you through his story. “They keep updating it.” He explains as you leave the area with World War Two and the Howling Commandos, entering through a corridor with modern pictures of him and the Avengers. “Every couple years or so they call me and tell me they’re adding another thing.”

“Doesn’t that get annoying?” You wonder, reading a wall about the Battle of Manhattan with interest. “Your whole life being put on display for everyone to see?”

Steve shrugs. “I dunno. I’ve never really minded. They don’t put in personal things, so it’s not too bad. You could learn more from the internet about me.”

You nod, knowing how true that really was. “You’ve got a point. Still. It must be a bit weird being a national icon.”

“I’ll admit, people stopping me on the street is getting a little old. I used to wish to be someone who changed the world. Now I have and sometimes I wish I could be normal. But I wouldn’t change what I’ve done. Who I am. Not if people can learn from it. Not if I can keep people safe.”

Turning away from the wall to glance at Steve, who has his hands in his pockets studying the wall, you smile and tilt your head. “You’re a good man, Steve Rogers.”

He turns to you, his lips pulling up. “That’s all I hope for.” His voice is quiet, earnest, before it becomes lighter as he gestures back to the wall. “You know the first thing we did after winning was go out for shawarma? It was Tony’s idea.”

“No way.” You laugh. “All six of you?”

“Yeah! We go there for every Battle of Manhattan Anniversary, now. I’ll take you some time. It’s a nice place.”

“Is that a promise?”

He smirks at your teasing tone. “Absolutely.”

* * * * * * * *

After your museum hopping, he takes you to Arlington Cemetery to show you a few friends and fellow soldiers he met all those years ago. It’s such a personal intimate thing that he shares, and you think you shouldn’t be there to witness it, but he’s quick to reassure you that’s not the case. That he wouldn’t have anyone else by his side, listening to his stories.

By the time you get back to the city, it’s getting dark, so you two head out for dinner before Steve takes you up the Washington Monument to look at the city lights. He makes sure you have the top all to yourselves; there’s perks of being an Avenger - especially one of the leaders.

“Alright, alright.” Leaning on the rail, you turn to him with a smile. “So maybe history isn’t as bad as I originally thought.”

“Yeah? I convinced you, did I?”

You roll your eyes at his smirk, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Maybe a bit. But only when you’re telling it. You think there’s any way you could come to history with me?” You joke with a laugh, feeling yourself flush at the chuckle and grin he gives you.

“I wish I could, honey.” He spoke softly, running a thumb over your knuckles. “Unfortunately, I’ve got work to do. I’m heading back to New York tomorrow. I’ll be back on Friday, though. If you would want to-”

You beam and nod energetically. “I’d love to go out again, Stevie.”

Giving your hand a squeeze, he beams back. “Fantastic.” He looks back out to the window and gives a little sigh. “It’s gettin’ late and you’ve got class tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I should probably get going. Do you, I mean, would you mind walking me home?” You blink up at him through your lashes hopefully.

“Of course!” His eyes - which you found throughout the day weren’t entirely blue, but had some green hues to them - lit up as you two start towards the elevator. He tucks you under his strong arm, pulling you close. “You wanna get ice cream or something on the way?”

“You read my mind, Captain.”

* * * * * * * *

By the time you reach your door, you’ve both finished your ice cream and he’s telling yet another story while you laugh, once again swinging your linked hands.

When it comes time to say goodbye, you can’t help but wish your hand could stay in his for a while longer. Knowing that you’d be saying farewell, you hold on a bit tighter. “Pick me up on Friday?”

He nods, squeezing your hand before letting it go and brushing his fingertips along your cheek. “I’ll call you later too, alright, sweetheart?”

“Okay.” You agree eagerly. “You gonna kiss me goodnight now, soldier?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles softly, before gently grabbing your chin. Using his other hand, he pulls you closer by the waist, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and sweet and perfect, just like him, but it ends too quickly for your liking. He pulls back, nudging his nose against yours, and murmuring against your lips. “Sleep well.”

You smile, leaning your forehead against his. “Good night, Stevie.”

Stepping away, he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “G’night.”

You stop him before he could turn all the way. “Steve?” He pauses to look over his shoulder at you with an eyebrow raised. You have a question, and you can’t help but ask it, it having been on your mind for days. “Why’d you stop your run just to sit by me?”

“And leave a beautiful dame like yourself before I could get your name? I may be a super soldier, honey, but I’m still a man. Abyssinia Friday, Y/N.”

#cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #marvel #steve rogers #captain america #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #first dates w/ avengers #💛🧭

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shigarakislittlepet · 4 years ago

Note

Hooooh boy👀 okay so if you have a character limit just do Dabi and Shinsou (my absolute favourite boys) but if you don't have a character limit I'd also like Aizawa and Bakugou with a s/o who's very obedient and good for them (and ofc good to them) and they're afraid that they're boring because they don't really break any rules or misbehave. Everybody's on and on abt brats and my obedient subby lil ass is over here like qwq obedient subbies aren't boring😤😤 take your time and don't feel pressured oke?? 💕💕

oh my god i love you, you are so so sweet 💕💕💕 I hope I did this request justice, the implications are just !!! So sweet QuQ

no character limit, so i will do all the bbys 🥰

TW: NSFW, Dom/sub themes, light quirk use for sexy times (shinsou), Daddy kink (for Aizawa, I’m sorry lol), some name calling... I think that’s it! Let me know if I missed anything!

HERES MY TAKE ON SUPER GOOD SUBS AND HOW THE HUBBIES WOULD REACT!

-Dabi-

•Okay okay so we all know Dabi is a HARD dom, he has a LOT of aggression to work through in a healthy way, and you help make that happen!

•You’d worry that Dabi would prefer a “bad girl”, a brat that talked back sometimes so he could punish them and REALLY let all that frustration out!

•Once you talked to him about it he would laugh at you. He’s just mean like that lol. BUT once he calmed down and realized it was something that was actually bothering you he’d just look at you and be like “...really?”

•Because what you HADN’T considered is that Dabi spent so much of his life with absolutely no control over his environment, he lived in constant fear of uncertainty. The only certainty he EVER had at home was pain.

•You provide him with total control. You never talk back, you never question him. You do as you’re told and then you say “Thank you Sir” in your sweet little voice no matter what depraved things he’s made you do for him. The absolute control he has with you makes him feel like he’s on top of the world! And you THANK him for it??? Way to stroke his massive ego while you’re at it, damn.

•You give him the stability he never thought he’d have, and the unconditional love and adoration and worship that he never thought he deserved. To him, you’re perfect. His perfect little angel. He would kill and die for you. He would get drunk off of your submission.

•He’d get bored of a brat pretty quickly, not as much of a power trip in his opinion. XP

•I feel like he doesn’t really go heavy on the praise, but when it DOES happen, when you’re on your knees worshipping his cock and using your talented mouth for what it’s MEANT to be used for, and he’s certain your mouth was meant for this, and he slides a hand into your hair grabbing a handful and tugging while his other hand grasps at any stable piece of furniture for some stability and groans out unfiltered praises in his deep gravelly voice??? It feels like you’re both on cloud nine, and nothing is ever going to tear you down from it.

-Shinsou-

• Shinsou would love his precious little kitty cat and shower you with praise and adoration and gifts to reward you for being so good for him all the time. He is a quiet simp, and will the worship the ground you walk on.

• If you voiced your concern about being boring, he would just smile deviously and then back you up against a wall of your shared apartment and start kissing your neck and saying things like “What do you mean kitty cat, don’t we have fun?” And then he will spend the next few hours reminding you just how much fun you have together~~~

• He would make sure that you never worried about being boring again. He would have a wonderful time making you verbalize all the "fun" things you want him to do to you. The fact that he can make you say all those embarrassing things so easily and make you beg for him without a second thought from you makes him so unbelievably feral. He doesn't even have to use his quirk to make you do anything he wants, which makes him feel like the most powerful man that’s ever lived, although whenever you bat your pretty little eyes at him and beg him to "Pleeeaaaassseeee brainwash me and turn me into your puppet? Pretty please?”. He will melt, and he will HAVE to grant all his perfect little kitten’s wishes.

• The reason he absolutely adores your complete obedience and submission is the undying and unwavering trust you clearly have in him. To do all the things he asks of you, no matter how humiliating, without so much as a single complaint? It makes him lightheaded and he will tell you that there is only one feeling in the world better than that, and thats being in love with you. He’s such a sap.

• It's the trust he gets off on. Even after becoming a pro-hero, the media tends to treat him similarly to Aizawa. They have this sort of “scary vigilanty that barely operates within the law” angle on him, even though he isn’t scary at all, and he’s a wonderful hero. The public tends to like him, but in a wary sort of way. Some people are still afraid to look him in the eyes or respond to him at all. So the trust you openly display is intoxicating to him.

• And of course, as is most important, the fact that you trust him enough that you will use your safe word when you need to, knowing that he will immediately put a stop to whatever is going on and hold you tight and take care of you never fails to warm his heart. He is never disappointed when this happens because it shows just how much you TRUST him to take care of you and not abuse his power.

-Aizawa-

• Hahahahahahahahahahahaha

•Okay so Aizawa is a different beast entirely.

•We all know Aizawa is a Daddy, and he expects his sweet little submissive baby to behave at all times. He’s HAD bratty subs before, and honestly, he finds them tiring. He can and WILL correct misbehaving subs with an iron fist, but over time he’s gotten tired of the whiny “make me”’s and the purposeful breaking of his carefully thought out rules.

•He deals with bratty teens all day, what makes you think he has the patience to deal with another brat at HOME? Nah.

•What he enjoys most about your near worshipful levels of obedience and submission is the level of respect you display to him. How much you truly want to please him and impress him. He finds it equally endearing and entertaining.

• You memorized every single one of his rules, every position, every expectation that he had of you, and you never failed to preform beautifully. He would never expect PERFECTION from a partner, per say, he’s perfectly lenient when and if you make an honest mistake, but he tells you all the time how perfect you are for him. He’ll tell you how much he loves the lengths at which you’ll go to please him.

• This man LIVES to tease you about how obedient you are, almost daring you to step out of line. You never take the bait though, you just get adorably embarrassed and pout at him while he teases you more. “Awe, what is it kitten? You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like it when I tease you.” as he drags his thumb across your lower lip while it trembles, the deep bass of his voice reverebrating through your skull and turning you to mush.

•He layers the praise on THICK when you’ve earned it. Once he’s had his fun tormenting and teasing and edging you, he will fuck you slowly and deeply, agonizingly, and he will tell you what a good little slut you are for his cock and it’s ages before you realize that he’s prolonging your torture by fucking you this way and saying these things to you. He wants to see how far he can push you before you either break down into a pitiful mess of tears and pleas, or if maybe ther IS a needy little brat in there just waiting to come out. It’s always the former though, and he always loves getting you to that point. You’d do anything for him, and he knows it. He gets just a little high on it.

-Bakugou-

•Mans wrote the BOOK on hero worship, and he expects you to worship.

•Pro-hero Dynamight expects nothing but perfection, and he expects you to measure up. He can tell a brat from a mile away, and I genuinely think he actively avoids them. He’s enough of a brat to for both of you anyway lmao

•I hope you like pain, because he’s the type to inflict it for fun and not just for punishment. A true sadist for the truest masochist.

•If you ever talked to Bakugou about your fear of being boring to him, I really hope you’re prepared for the consequences. “What??? You think if you were just some boring shitty extra that I’d honestly waste any time on you? Do you really think I’m that stupid???” Its all in an attempt to reassure you, but he will spend the rest of the night punishing you for thinking so lowly of yourself.

•No matter HOW good you seem to be, getting a praise out of this man is damn near IMPOSSIBLE, even when he IS pleased with you. Getting him to verbalize anything he’s happy about is a struggle, so you start to look for the subtle signs. You notice his hands trail lightly down your back when you handle the paddle better than the night before. The way he brushes your hair out of your face when he’s roughly fucking into you after a particularly frustrating day of hero work, and you don’t even bat an eye at his brutality. The soft smile you almost miss when you KNOW he’s had a rough day at work and meet him at the door, already on your knees in one of his favorite outfits and with dinner already cooking away on the stove. Sure, he usually cooks, but when all he has to do is come home and have you... He’s damn near ready to propose every time you do it because you are just. So. Good to him. Good for him. And on those days, when you’re both showered and warm in bed and he’s stroking your hair and half asleep, you can hear faint praises fall from his lips. You know he means them everyday, but it’s on these days when his stress is melted away completely by your touch and your love and he’s so filled with contentment and just by being with you that his heart and mind are relaxed enough to let a little vulnerability show. As a treat.

• He never thought he would feel like this about anyone. Never thought that anyone would ever measure up to his impossible standards, but you take all his gruffness in stride and throw it back at him by being warm and loving, following all of his rules, doing everything you can to make him happy, and treating him like a god. He can’t think of anything better than spending the rest of his life with you.

#dabi x reader #shinsou x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #bakugou x reader #imagines

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 3 years ago

Text

Illicit Affairs

A/N: Okay so the ages and timing on this story don’t make much sense but just overlook that, maybe? I don’t know you’ll see but just try to ignore it if you can for the sake of the story. Also I know it’s been forever since I posted but it’s because I’ve been working on this series, so yeah. Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Word count: 2,488 Warnings: I don’t think any.

Your Uncle Frank was one of your number one supporters through it all, and by far one of your closest family members.

You had known him since you were 13, as he and your Aunt Jamia (who was your mother’s sister) had met early in high school and had been dating since. Now that you were 20 and in college, triple majoring at NYU, he was once again your biggest supporter, helping you financially at every opportunity he could. You always felt so guilty for the thousands of dollars he insisted on paying monthly to help you get through college with little to no student debt, but he was insistent.

And of course you knew that money came from his now wildly successful band My Chemical Romance. You had been to a few My Chem shows, but had surprisingly never actually met any of the guys, besides Ray who you accidentally met while dropping off some coffee for Frank at the recording studio. You were actually a pretty big fan of their music, but you never broadcasted that your uncle was Frank Iero. That remained pretty private.

But here you were, driving to one of their shows for the soundcheck from Frank’s New York apartment, which you were staying at for the summer because A. You were taking summer classes and B. He offered to pay you to dog/house sit while he was touring, since Jamia consistently had work that sometimes meant she had to travel.

You pulled up to the large venue, showing security the backstage pass that Frank had given you, before being escorted into the main arena, where empty spaces for chairs lurked open, a few maintenance and sound people running around and fiddling with various things. You looked up to see some of the guys sitting down in a circle having a conversation. Frank noticed you almost immediately, getting up with a big smile and running up to you, engulfing you in a hug, and you hugged him back. “How’s my favorite neice?” He asked and you lightly laugh.

“Great, you?” You asked and he smiled back.

“Great.” It was funny to be shorter than Frank, only be a few inches, but still, making you the shortest in both the family and in most social situations. He walked you over to where everyone else was, introducing you in general as everyone got up to shake your hand. You already knew Ray, who gave you a hug, but you had never met the other three.

First was Mikey, who seemed shy and a little awkward, but was pretty adorable. Then came Bob, who seemed chill, and finally Gerard. You had to admit he was pretty handsome both on and off stage, but you pushed some confidence forward so you wouldn’t chicken out. “I’m Gerard.” He shook your hand with a kind smile.

“Y/N.” You responded, shaking it back. You could see your uncle eyeing the both of you from the corner of your eye, but you weren’t totally sure why. Was your crush on Gerard that obvious. You pulled away a moment, somewhat nervously with the conscious that at least your uncle knew, meaning other people probably did too.

You all sat down in a group as the guys began asking questions about you and what you were doing in school. All of them (besides Frank who already knew) were extremely surprised as you triple majoring, but you couldn’t help and notice how Gerard was fixated on you the entire time. After a bit of explaining stuff about you, everyone split up to go do their own thing. Ray, Mikey, and Frank all went off to begin tuning and testing their stuff while Bob did the same, but Gerard stayed back with you for a few minutes.

“Hey, this could be totally weird and awkward and not cool and you can totally say no,” Gerard began, quietly to you when no one was around, “But would you mind if I got your number? I mean I could ask Frank but your his niece so that might be awkward and-” “No, no, it’s fine.” You lightly smiled, as if to reassure him. You pulled a sticky note and pen out of your backpack, writing it down, “Here.” You smiled at him, handing it over. “But I would advise you don’t tell Frank, because he might, ya know-” “Yeah, yeah, trust me, I know.” He said and the two of you lightly laughed. “Are you gonna be at the show tonight?” He asked and you nodded, “Cool, cool. Have you been to one before.” You nodded again.

“A few times, actually, I’ve just never gotten to meet you guys.” You lightly smiled.

“Cool, cool.” He responded. You could tell how awkward both of you felt, each of you having the urge to keep the conversation going but it just wasn’t there. “So I should probably go and start sound check, ya know. But it was awesome meeting you, Y/N.” Gerard smiled.

“You too.” You smiled back.

“I’ll see you around?” “See you around.” You lightly waved as he jogged the other way.

You ended up excusing yourself and saying bye, with the excuse that you had more school work to do, when in reality you just needed some air as your mind continued to process the idea that the Gerard Way just asked for your number. He was so nervous and cute about it that in a way it made you all the more happy getting to know him briefly, but he was nothing like how he was on stage. The confidence that seemed to erupt in him was all wiped away as he just seemed like a nervous outcasted teenage boy in a band, which maybe to an extent he was.

Gerard, on the other hand, was set on the idea that he had just fucked over any shot he had with you. And from what you had explained, you seemed like the perfect girl. Not only were you absolutely gorgeous to him, but you were kind, funny, and smart. And you seemed to have some tom boy in you, which only made you that much more attractive to him to send him mind into overdrive. He wasn’t sure that the perfect girl ever existed, until you walked in.

And he was shocked that you were single. Sure, you had a lot on your plate and probably not enough time for a relationship, but any boy or man would be insanely lucky to have you. But there he stood, mentally punching himself at how stupid he acted. And ideally he would have gone and ranted to the guys, but the moment Frank heard he was interested in you, he knew he was dead meat. Frank may have only been 5′6 but he could pack a punch if he wanted to.

And besides, you were eight years younger than him. And while that didn’t matter to him, and clearly to you it didn’t either, that would most likely be looked down upon by most other people. “It’s pretty obvious.” Mikey came up to him behind the stage, “You’re just going to have to deal with the wrath of Frank eventually.” The two looked over at the short man who was clearly pissed in some way.

It wasn’t until that night at the concert that your worries fluttered away. You had invited a few friends, who were all jumping, screaming, and dancing as you did the same in the pit. Gerard had taken the crowd by his hand with ease starting with their opener, and flawlessly sang and entertained everyone. You were genuinely having the time of your life, and even when the show ended you were still riding high from the buzz of adrenaline that the show gave.

You ran back stage, giving Frank a hug and he hugged you back. “You guys did awesome!” You sighed out, still in awe with a huge smile on your face. “It was absolutely incredible.”

“Thanks, Y/N/N.” Frank smiled back down at you.

“Y/N/N?” Ray asked, with a confused look.

“Yeah, it’s been her name in the family since she was like two.”

“Okay, Y/N/N.” Ray smiled at you and you smiled back. You couldn’t help but look over Ray’s shoulder, seeing Gerard standing back with Mikey drinking lots of water, for obvious reasons. You briefly excused yourself to go talk to them.

“Hey,” You walked up to Gerard and smiled, he immediately looked back, putting his water down and smiling back at you tiredly. “You did awesome.” You preached, “Like, actually, you did insane.” “Thanks.” He lightly laughed, “Glad you enjoyed.” You nodded. “Hey Mikey.” You looked at the skinny boy who waved back.

“You did pretty great too.” “Thanks.” He smiled, saying goodbye and departing from the two of you shortly after. Gerard pulled out a box of cigarettes, taking one in his mouth, and motioning them towards you, a way of asking. You shook your head.

“I’m alright, thanks.” He nodded, pulling a lighter out of his pocket and lighting the stick. He took a deep breath in, letting the smoke come out through his mouth only a few moments later.

“So you don’t smoke?” He asked next, casually. You shook your head, “Smart.” He lightly smiled. “It’s pretty fucking annoying.” You lightly laughed.

“Thanks for the advice.” You smiled.

Only a few seconds later you were called out by the rest of the guys, sitting outside their tour bus and drinking some beer. You noticed Gerard had none, and opted for just some water, you doing the same instead. For you it was pretty obvious, you were 20 and weren’t of the legal age to drink. But for Gerard it would seem off to most people, but of course Frank had told you all about how only a few months prior he was an alcoholic and had gotten sober, so naturally you didn’t blame him one bit for skipping out on the alcohol.

“Hey Y/N, want some?” One of the guys on tour asked. You shook your head. “Oh c’mon, it’ll be fun!” The guy continued to insist.

“Nah, I’m alright.” You said. It was pretty annoying when guys asked you to drink, because you knew that it was to get you to a point of being drunk only to get laid. Or even worse, the fear that the drink could be laced. Either way, you weren’t taking a chance.

“Are you sure-” “Hey man, back off.” Gerard, who was sitting next to you, spoke, “She said no.” “I’m pretty sure she can speak for herself.” The dude smirked and fired back, thinking he did something.

“And she already did speak. She said no.” He said firmly, more aggressive this time, “You’re on this fucking tour because you’ve been hired by my band. So I would suggest you leave her the fuck alone before you lose your job, buddy.” Gerard snapped. The other guys eyes just went wide, walking away in surrender.

“You didn’t have to do that, ya know?” You looked over at him, and he gave you a confused look, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, but it happens all the time.”

“Well it shouldn’t.” He sighed, “But you’re smart enough to know that. No offense, and this is not meant to be sexist, but a lot of girls your age don’t know that.” “Yeah, I know,” You admitted, “I’ve seen it happen one too many times.” Both of you obviously became slightly uncomfortable with the situation at hand, prompting Gerard to begin another conversation.

“So what do you like to do?” He asked, “Outside of school, of course.” “I don’t know,” You sighed, “I love to write, I have since I was younger. Reading goes a long with that, I’ve read comics since I was a kid too. I know that probably sounds stupid but-” “You read comics?” He asked, slightly shocked. You nodded, “What kinds?” “I started out with Marvel, since my dad collected Marvel as a kid. Then I got into DC, Watchmen in specific, I never got into the Justice League because I didn’t really see the relevance of it, but I liked the Avengers a lot.” He nodded and smiled.

“That’s pretty cool, ya know. Not really stupid in my book.” He lightly laughed, “I actually went to school to be a comic book writer.” “Really?” You asked, adjusting yourself in your seat and he nodded. “No way.” “Yeah, I did. But it was a rough time in the comics industry and nothing really worked out.” You nodded, understanding.

“Do you still do anything with comics?” You asked next.

“Yeah, I do.” He said, “In my free time I love to draw, I have this current project I’m working on, I’m not sure what it’s going to be called, but it’s like this weird super hero family type thing, but they’re all adopted, and this guys makes his kids a super hero team? That probably doesn’t make a lot of sense.” You lightly laughed.

“Not totally, but what I get from it, it sounds pretty awesome.” You admitted, “I think that would be pretty cool, and original. Which is something everyone wants when it comes to comics.” He nodded.

“It probably wouldn’t be hard to get it published now with this whole band thing.” You nodded.

“Well, if you ever need a second opinion on it, don’t hesitate to ask. Although I know it can sometimes be hard to show off your work.”

“I’ll definitely take you up on that.” He smiled. You got a vibration from your phone, which you checked. It was one of your friends, but glancing at the time your anxiety rose.

“Shit,” You muttered, “Hey, so I know we were just starting to actually talk and all, and I really don’t want to end that, but I kinda have to get back and-” “Hey, hey, don’t worry.” Gerard lightly smiled, “You’re really busy. It’s totally fine.” “You sure?” You asked again and he nodded.

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded, “Here, let me at least walk you out to your car.” “No, you don’t have to do that-” “Trust me, it’s alright.” He insisted, getting up and walking besides you under the night sky.

“It was really great meeting you.” You smiled up at Gerard as you two stood outside your car.

“You too, Y/N.” He smiled down. “This may be too soon, and it probably is, but I asked for your number after like five minutes of knowing you so I guess we are moving fast. Anyways, I’m rambling.” He stuttered a little, “But would you want to go out with me sometime.” You smiled.

“Yeah, of course.” You responded, “Just text or call me and we’ll work something out.” “Oh, okay, awesome.” He smiled. “Bye Y/N. Get home safe, okay?” “Bye, Gerard, and I will.” You said and got into your car.

#gerard way #gerard way fanfiction #mcr gerard #my chemical gerard #gerard way x reader #gerard way x you #gerard way x y/n #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical gee #my chemical romance x reader

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delicioussshame · 3 years ago

Text

Socialite AU, last part! I finished a thing! Also posted on AO3 now that it’s done.

Shen Yuan had expected that the beginning of the school year would have kept Luo Binghe too busy for them to see each other more than, oh, about once a month, but it doesn’t seem to be the case. Luo Binghe is obviously very smart, so maybe that’s why he can keep up so easily. His studies sure don’t seem to stop him from having Shen Yuan over at least once a week.

Luo Binghe says it’s because he cannot trust Shen Yuan to feed himself properly, something Shen Yuan himself has profusely denied. First, he’s a fully grown adult, he can cook! Second, if he doesn’t feel like it, he can order in, or pay someone to cook for him. There are no issues there! He doesn’t need to be minded.

Not that he minds being minded. Shen Yuan has eaten more than his share of delicious food, and Luo Binghe’s stands above the rest. There are worst things than travelling to Luo Binghe’s apartment and eating a freshly cooked meal.

They don’t talk about novels as much though. This is an area where Luo Binghe had to step back in favor of reading assigned manuals. Shen Yuan has spent more than one evening reading trash by himself while Luo Binghe sat nearby, throwing the occasional question his way as he studied. Not that it seemed like he needed the help.

When does he see his college friends, Shen Yuan has no idea. Luo Binghe always waves away any concern of his on this matter. Seriously, Shen Yuan is a bit worried. Does he not fit in? It seems impossible that someone as charming, not to mention as affluent, as him would be ostracised. Even Shen Yuan had managed to gather a small group of friends during his college years. Luo Binghe must have done the same, no?

If he hasn’t, his fellow students are missing out.

In that case, Shen Yuan will take him out it their place. It wouldn’t do for Binghe to be lonely.

Not that that’s likely, considering how popular he is in their circle. As far as his female compatriots are concerned, Luo Binghe is now Beijing’s most eligible bachelor.

It’s a role that suits Luo Binghe’s public persona to a tee. He flutters between ladies as if he were born into in, flirting with one and laughing with another one with an ease Shen Yuan cannot help but envy, considering his own limited contacts with the other sex.

If those interactions often ended with a pretend fight between them, neither of them would complain about it. It was fun. Much better than insulting real people and wondering later if he’d gone too far, if he’d seriously hurt someone whose crime had only been to be born in a shitty family and raised in a similarly shitty fashion. He and Binghe sometimes rehearsed lines late into the night before a party, sentences that were meant to be biting insults turning into uncontrollable laughter.

Everything was going well. Shen Yuan’s reputation was becoming so toxic it had been weeks since the last time one of his fellow socialites had dared to speak to him, which is how Shen Yuan liked it. As for Luo Binghe, he was both admired for standing up to mean Shen Yuan, and pitied for always being the receptor of his ire. Binghe was more than talented enough to use all of it to his advantage.

All in all, everything was going perfectly.

Until now. “Excuse me?” says Shen Yuan with the coldest, most disparaging tone he has managed yet.

Sha Hualing, sadly, doesn’t seem impressed. “You can deny it all you want. It’s obvious. It must drive you crazy, seeing him with us and knowing you’ll never have a chance. He’s so good, too. Made me scream so loud I’m sure the neighbors heard. Not that you’ll ever find out yourself. Keep pulling his pigtails. He knows, he’s just too nice to tell how pathetic you are.”

Shen Yuan cannot convey to Sha Hualing how utterly from left field her theory is, and how completely baffled he is, without breaking his carefully maintained aura of disgusted condescension, but he really wishes he could. “You’re insane. How could I be attracted to… that.” He winces in his head. Too much? There are probably zero people that don’t feel at least a little attracted to Luo Binghe in this room.

But if there was one, it would be him. Luo Binghe is his cute disciple and friend, not his meal ticket. Leave that to Sha Hualing and her posse.

Her answering laugh is haughty. “Not even you believe that. Anyway, I just wanted to rub it in, but now that that’s done, I got better things to do than talking to you, like him. Fuck off.”

He flips her off as she leaves. Not his most elegant moment, but not the most elegant situation.

How the fuck did she get into her sick mind that he was into Luo Binghe. She should have thought they hated each other! That they wanted to tear each other’s throats open, not tear each other’s clothes off!

… Holy fuck their characters have ust, haven’t they? Danmei isn’t his playing field, but some things are universal across gender. There is an undeniable pull to seeing two hot people seeming like they’re two seconds away from punching each other when it also seems like they might be two seconds away from… something else.

It’s the only possible interpretation. They haven’t been careful enough, and now their roles are tainted by bad tropes!

Shen Yuan is going to have to adapt his persona a bit. Let himself run even colder. Less hate, more indifference, maybe? Or maybe he could just leave Luo Binghe alone for a few parties.

It wouldn’t work! It would seem like he chickened out after Sha Hualing confronted him! It would make it appear weak!

Could he make up a girlfriend?

Nah, no one would believe it.

Fuck, he’s going to need Luo Binghe’s help on this one.

_________________

“She what!?”

“Thinks I keep picking fights with you because I’m trying to get your attention and that I’d really like for you to bend me over something, probably.”

Luo Binghe blushes bright red.

Shen Yuan restrains his mirth. Nice to see he’s not the only one terribly embarrassed by the situation!

Yes, pinching those red cheeks would only make things worse, but he’s still very tempted.

Shen Yuan soldiers on. “Binghe shouldn’t worry about things too much. His reputation is safe. Considering how well he gets on with the fairer sex,” and yes, now Shen Yuan knows way more than he ever wanted to know about Sha Hualing’s sex life, but that’s life,” no one will doubt him. If he has no idea, I’ll think of something. It’s not his problem.”

“Shizun’s problems are my problems! He wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for me!”

Aww, Binghe, why is your indignation so cute!” Don’t blame yourself. We both agreed to the plan. It’s no one’s fault.”

Luo Binghe looks down, obviously still embarrassed. “I really have no idea where she got that. Shizun never appears to be attracted to me.”

“Who knows how Sha Hualing thinks. She probably watches too much porn.” He wouldn’t be surprised, considering how low-class she acted.

A second later, he catches his mistake. If Luo Binghe is… seeing her, he shouldn’t be that mean to her in his presence. “Sorry for insulting your… friend.” He doesn’t think they’re officially dating? Sha Hualing would never shut up about it, and anyway Luo Binghe wouldn’t have as much time for Shen Yuan if he was serious about someone. It’s probably just hormones raging.

Luo Binghe shakes his head. “Shizun shouldn’t apologise! She’s the one who was this rude! Implying Shizun doesn’t know how to court someone, or that he’d need such a ridiculous approach when a few words would be enough for him to have anyone! What a stupid woman.”

It’s Shen Yuan’s turn to be embarrassed. Luo Binghe is pushing the hero worship a little too far here. He’s got way more experience in that department than Shen Yuan will ever get, probably. “Well, if you don’t like her, maybe choose someone better as a partner? You could have anyone. I know it’s none of my business, and I guess she’s attractive, but really, so are many others who don’t share her… fiery temperament.”

If he were honest, he’d just tell Binghe he deserves better.

Much, much better. Didn’t he see her chatting with Liu Mingyan the other day? Now that’s a woman worthy of his Binghe, almost his equal in all fields.

Not that he needs to find someone just yet. He should take his time, and find someone he likes.

Luo Binghe snorts. “I would never choose her.”

Shen Yuan blinks. “Didn’t you?”

Luo Binghe looks wounded. “Why would you think that? I would never be with someone this cruel to Shizun!”

“But she said… oh.” Shen Yuan is an idiot. Why, why did he, even for a second, believe what that snake said? “Binghe must let me apologise. I’ve been stupid and have believed her when she said you and her were… involved.”

“Shizun mustn’t believe her! She lies!”

Shen Yuan pats Luo Binghe’s back gently. “I don’t! I don’t. She lied. I don’t believe her anymore. Of course Binghe has better tastes than this. I should have known.”

Luo Binghe raises his chin. “I do. I have the best tastes.”

Shen Yuan lets a smile appears on his face. “You do. After all, you have chosen me to guide you.”

Luo Binghe nods with almost comical vigour. “Yes!”

So! Cute! Shen Yuan wants to give him a hug!

He won’t, because he’s the dignified older friend.

Who reads bad online novels, but let’s not linger on that. “So, what do we do about her imagination? Because she cannot keep a secret to save her life, so I expect people will talk about it the next time we attend the same event.”

“…Does Shizun want… a girlfriend?”

What does that have to do with anything. “If I meet the right person, sure. Why?”

“Does it matter what they think? They never cared about Shizun to begin with. Who cares if they think he’s attracted to me. It doesn’t change a thing.”

Well, yes, but. “It makes me look pretty pathetic. It’s not exactly a fun reputation to have.”

“What does?”

“That I want someone and the best thing I can do about it is insulting them? It does make me look like a kindergartener.”

An unholy light appears in Luo Binghe’s eyes. “So what if that wasn’t the best thing you had done?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Shizun feels pathetic because he doesn’t like the idea that people think he wants someone and he doesn’t know how to get them, right? But what if he did?”

Shen Yuan is very confused right now. “Binghe?”

“We knew each other before that first party, right? So I let them know that. We could be bitter exes!”

Shen Yuan looks at him, completely frozen. “Binghe, no.” That is 100% a terrible idea.

“Why not? It would explain everything! Why we’re so mean to each other while I’m nice to everyone else, why you’re worst to me, and why there’s tension between us!”

There is no tension between them! They’re playing characters! “People would think you’re gay!”

“I’ve been flirting with women all the time. People would think I’m bi.”

“You’ve just told me you haven’t been dating! What if they think you’re hung up on me, who, by the way, is a man!”

“Is it that bad? I wouldn’t mind. Shizun is someone I would certainly be hung on if he had left me.”

“So I’m the one who left you now? That makes even less sense! Why would someone like me leave someone like you! Of course Binghe is the one who left!”

“If I were dating Shizun, I would never leave him! He has to be the one who left me!”

Shen Yuan rubs his temples. He knew the conversation wouldn’t be simple, but it has reached unprecedented levels of nonsense. “Let’s forget who left who. We’re not doing that. Binghe would ruin his reputation to only slightly better mine. That makes no sense.”

Luo Binghe pouts. “It would have worked. I would have made a very good ex-boyfriend.”

Shen Yuan pats his back again. “I’m sure you would have. I, on the other hand, would probably have been terrible at it.”

“Why?”

“How could I have pretended to not only have dated Binghe, but to have separated from him? No one would believe it. My talents aren’t up to the task. I can’t make myself look like a plausible boyfriend to Binghe.”

Luo Binghe sighs. “That’s stupid. Shizun might as well have been my boyfriend lately.”

Shen Yuan feels a headache coming. He can barely follow the logic of this conversation. “Binghe, I don’t understand.”

“Shen Yuan spends most of his evenings with me. I cook for him. He takes me out. We’ve been writing to each other for months. He’s been carefully curating my reading lists for most of those months. He has plenty of reasons why I would be dating him.”

Okay, let’s just ignore most of that. “Nothing you listed has anything to do with the character we play for those society functions? High society Shen Yuan probably only reads classic literature, when he’s not working his high-power job and, I don’t know, checking stocks or playing the guqin. Nothing appealing there. How would we have even met?”

“Via work? Maybe you had a meeting with some executive of my father. Considering my reputation, we probably just had sex and ended up dating later on.”

Shen Yuan tries to imagine being the kind of person who would see Luo Binghe and think he could just hit that.

Impossible. Does not compute. “Look, I’m just going to ignore it. It’s always worked before. We probably shouldn’t change it.”

“But things always staying the same is bad! They must evolve!”

Shen Yuan shrugs. “Not necessarily. My life has mostly remained the same since I’ve graduated, and it’s perfectly fine.”

Luo Binghe flinches like a kicked puppy. “Is my arrival so unimportant to Shizun?”

Fuck. “No! That’s not what I meant! I mostly meant my romantic life!” Not really, he meant his life his general, but it is quite insulting to Binghe to imply he had no impact on his life, not to mention just an outright lie.

“That, too, should change.”

“It sure won’t if everyone thinks I’m gay.”

Under Luo Binghe’s breath, barely audible to Shen Yuan, “It’s not exactly an impediment.” Then, louder. “Let’s tell them the truth, then.”

Shen Yuan instantly panics. “Binghe, they can’t know the truth, it’ll fuck everythin-“

And that’s when Luo Binghe’s tongue finds its way into Shen Yuan’s mouth.

Shen Yuan’s mind freezes completely.

Luo Binghe keeps on kissing him.

Shen Yuan’s mind keeps trying to reboot.

Luo Binghe pushes back and sighs. “Does Shizun understand now?”

Nope. “…We can’t be exes if we’re kissing?”

“Forget the exes. Let’s just tell them we’re having sex. That’ll be the true part. We’ll just tell them it’s hate sex. I’ll tell them you’re just that good and I can’t resist you. That way, you won’t be pathetic, right?”

Shen Yuan’s slowly rebooting mind cannot decide if the “reputation for being gay” part would outweigh the “reputation for having seduced Luo Binghe” part.

Wait. “We’re having sex?”

Luo Binghe falters. “If you want to? Because I want to. A lot. But we’re pretty much dating and Shen Yuan didn’t seem to realise, so I thought maybe he’s not attracted to me, but you keep acting like I’m the best thing that ever happened to you when really, the reverse is true, and can we date already? Please?”

Shen Yuan opens his mouth.

Shen Yuan closes his mouth.

Shen Yuan tries to understand that, apparently, Luo Binghe has been trying to date him? Him? Luo Binghe? And him? As a couple? That is a thing that is apparently on the table?

Wait, Shen Yuan actually is a person who could have looked and Luo Binghe and have hit that!?

Woah.

“I…”

Luo Binghe’s eyes grow even wider as he waits for Shen Yuan’s response.

As if Shen Yuan ever had the capacity to tell Binghe no.

As if he ever wanted to. “Okay. Let’s try it.”

A second later, he gets an armful of overenthusiastic Binghe trying to choke him with too much tongue.

“But we’re not playing bitter exes.” Shen Yuan really has no belief in his ability to pretend he left Luo Binghe.

That he had him and is devastated he doesn’t anymore, sure. But that he’d manage to be cruel to Luo Binghe about it? There’s no way.

“That’s fine. I like the one with the hate sex much better anyway.”

To be honest, so does Shen Yuan.

_________________

Shen Yuan positions himself in such a way that he can track Luo Binghe’s movements across the room without looking like he’s doing more than reading on his phone.

He can tell from Sha Hualing’s particularly vicious grin that she’s about to deliver what she considers to be a crippling blow to his reputation.

He thrills when the expression melts, replaced by horror as Luo Binghe’s face turn sheepish. He can almost hear his embarrassed tone as he admits to the moral failing that is sleeping with Shen Yuan, universal pariah.

He can distinctly hear the cries of dismay and what he knows are roars of utter jealousy.

None of it shows on his face, but Shen Yuan grins.

#The Scum Villain Self Serving System #Scum Villain #BingQiu #the AU where SY and LBH are both online friends and fellow socialites

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adarlingwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who’s willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XXX

February 11, 2278.

Ten fifteen in the evening.

I loaded my shotgun and watched the rear, gunfire bursting as the tin cans yelled. This was supposed to be a stealth operation. If only DeLoria hadn’t tripped on that one guard…

Truth be told, this was an absolutely fucking stupid plan. Taking away a comatose patient from the Citadel isn’t the brightest idea DeLoria and I came up with, but we had no other choice. Whatever secret about Percy that Dr. Li wanted us to protect, it seemed important. Seeing how Lyons figured out that she’s a living atomic weapon, I understand her.

DeLoria looks goddamn constipated as he helped me push the gurney with my partner in tow, secured with leather straps so she wouldn’t fly off. In the front, Fawkes soaks up most of the damage.

Of course we had a Plan B if the stealthy approach didn’t work. Thank fuck Fawkes is willing to cooperate, too. This wasn’t the first time we worked together to help Percy out of the tight spot. Then again, Percy got us out of our predicaments first. Knowing her, when she wakes up, she’ll scold us for risking ourselves for her, and for coming up with this awful plan.

Too bad. She can’t stop us now.

“Charon, what now? I only brought a pistol,” Butch yelps, narrowly missing fire.

“We’re gonna let Fawkes soak up the brunt of the gunfire, and we keep pressing forward and watch his six,” I grunted in return.

“Shit, this is a bad idea man! What if they hit Percy?”

“That’s why we’re fucking here to shield her! Are you scared of a little gunfire, DeLoria?!”

The younger man gulped and kept pushing. Our group kept pushing forward, already at the courtyard. How we managed to pull this off is beyond me. I expected to be dead right now.

“Hold your fire!”

Whoever issued the command is old, judging from their voice. Almost immediately, the tin cans stopped shooting.

“Father, what’s the meaning of this?” a more feminine voice called out. “They’re kidnapping a comatose patient! An honorary member of the Lyons Pride! I-”

“Sarah, please, enough. I’ll talk to them,” the Elder says, emerging from the crowd.

Another one of the tin cans interrupts. “Elder, they let in a Super Mutant in Citadel grounds! We-”

The old man gives the soldier a stern gaze, and he backs off. Coming face to face with Fawkes, the elder looks up, a neutral expression on his face.

“Please explain the meaning of this.”

DeLoria rushes over from the rear, facing the old man. “We’re getting our friend out of here! Clearly you assholes haven’t been doing her any good, so we’re transferring her to another hospital.”

“Another hospital?” the younger Lyons interrupts. “Listen kid, the Citadel is one of the few places on the Wasteland equipped to handle Zhou’s injuries.” Armor clinking, she marches towards the greaser, a livid expression on her face.

“What makes you think that whatever ‘hospital’ you’ll be transferring her to is equipped to help her, huh?”

A shouting match erupts between those two. Before things get ugly, Elder Lyons intervenes again, placing himself in front of the greaser and his daughter. Grumbling, I reach out and pull DeLoria back.

“I’ll take it from here,” I griped, and shoved past Sarah Lyons. I came face to face with the Elder, and I folded my arms.

“Before she left, Dr. Li told us she doesn’t think that whatever tests you’re running on Percy isn’t for her best interests. Percy trusted that doctor, so I trust her.”

Blondie scoffs, about to go off on us again, but she stops in her tracks, looking at something, or someone, behind us.

“Then, why don’t you ask Zhou herself, if she wants to stay here or not?”

My eyes widen, and I turn around and see Percy, sitting up on the bed, her restraints loose. I checked again, and no, they weren’t loosened. They were pulled away from the bed, and she’s gripping the leather straps.

My breath caught in my throat.

“Percy,” I mumble, taking slow, tentative steps towards her.

She’s looking blankly ahead, eyes glassy. No. Oh no.

What the fuck is happening?

Rough and calloused, my fingers brush against her arm, and her eyes flick towards me. “Percy? Are you there?”

Letting go of the leather strap, her small hand grips mine, and she exhales sharply, panic rousing within her. Through her hospital gown, I see a sickly green glow pulsing below her throat, at her chest.

Barreling her way through, Sarah Lyons points a minigun at my partner, ready to fire.

“Everyone, get back! She’s going to blow!”

“No!” I screamed at her, and instinct kicking in, I scoop Percy’s frail body in my arms and started to run to the exit.

“Move, fucking move aside!”

My lungs are burning as I run through the Citadel gates, Percy still pressed to my chest, unnaturally warm to the touch. Fawkes is following closely behind, footsteps pounding.

Away from the people, I gently laid Percy to the ground, the green glow emanating from her searing now, and covered her body with mine. If I’m gonna go, I’m gonna go holding her.

Screwing my eyes shut, I wait for the inevitable.

Instead, I was pulled aside, and Fawkes crouches over Percy’s body, careful not to crush her.

A bright, blinding light flashes from Percy’s body, and Fawkes covers her completely. Her body erupts, heat and energy bursting outwards, and Fawkes just absorbed all that. I watched the explosion barely made a dent on the mutant’s thick skin, and the mushroom cloud that billows towards the dark sky.

He pulls back, and Percy lies there, hospital gown in tatters.

I rushed to her side, checking for breathing, and felt my heart drop as I heard none.

“We need a medic, get a medic!” I snarl at the bystanders who witnessed the entire ordeal. After the initial shock has worn off, DeLoria weaves through the crowd and runs towards us, kneeling beside Percy.

“Shit man, shit! She’s not breathing, she needs CPR, oh my fucking God I don’t remember how to do it,” he babbles, tears pooling at the edge of his eyes.

Gnashing my teeth, I try to remember whatever first aid I learned from observing Percy in the past. I pulled away Percy’s hospital gown, and with my palms together, I pressed between her nipples, pumping and hearing her ribs crack underneath her skin.

I tilt her head, pinch her nose, press my ruined lips against hers, and blow. Twice.

Then, I go back into giving her chest compressions, and I look over my shoulder. I must’ve looked so feral at that moment.

“Where the fuck’s that medic?!”

I turned back to my partner, and after another set of compressions, I breathed into her again.

“Percy, remember what you told me when you got captured by the Enclave, huh?!” I rasped, gritting my teeth.

“Well, it’s your goddamn turn to listen to me now!”

January 14, 2278.

Fingers clacking on the keyboard, Percy hacked away at the terminal. Once given access, she terminates the hostile creatures in the other holding cells. I wince as I watch one particularly screwed up creature burst into flame, high pitched, inhuman squeals coming out of its… mouth?

Jesus Christ. I don’t want to think about it, ugh.

Then, Percy selects another command in the console, and the doors hiss open.

My partner turned around, footsteps urgent, and I followed her closely behind. Fawkes emerges from his cell, carefully, like an animal let loose from a trap, and he turns to us, towering us both.

“Thank you,” he boomed, and though his voice sounded rough, I felt his gratitude for Percy. “As promised, I will retrieve the GECK for you. This is a debt I am most happy to pay, my friends. Follow me!”

Percy smiles and nods, and she turns to me, looking over her shoulder with a pleased expression.

“See Charon? He isn’t bad at all,” she starts, and I only grumble in response. Percy senses the apprehension that lingered in me, and chuckles.

“To be frank Charon, the first time I met you in Underworld, I might have felt the same thing,” she says, and I look down with a questioning look.

“Dad told me to judge other people by what they looked like, but even then, I felt kind of uneasy around you. Then I heard you beat up Patchwork, and I was really angry for a while.”

I gulped. I never thought about what she thinks of me during that time. It was an entirely different reality back then; her thoughts, or anyone else’s, didn’t matter. Only Ahzrukhal’s did.

“But what Tulip said to me about you being Ahzrukhal’s employee really challenged my perspective. Getting back at you would only end in me getting hurt. You were at Ahzrukhal’s mercy as much as Patchwork was.”

“So is that why you bought my contract back then? You felt sorry?”

“No. I felt your frustration at being powerless. So, I bought your contract to create an opportunity to seize that back. Of course it wasn’t easy after that,” Percy chuckles sheepishly, and I sigh, remembering all the times I struggled with the contract’s hold over me.

But it’s gone, right?

No sense in dwelling over that.

“So, where were you going with this, Percy?”

“Give Fawkes a chance.”

I stop in my tracks, feeling guilty as hell. All this time, all I thought about is Percy, and myself. Meanwhile, she tries to consider everyone around her.

“Fine, Angel, I will.”

I felt a light jab on my ribs; Percy elbowed it playfully. “Whatever, big guy.”

“I don’t think that nickname suits me anymore, Percy. We’ve got a bigger guy now,” I tease her, pointing at Fawkes, who’s taking our conversation in stride as he pummeled a dumb mutie in our way.

“Nah. Fawkes doesn’t need a nickname anymore. You’re my big guy,” Percy teases back.

Is this flirting? Is Percy flirting with me? Goddammit. If I had more skin left on my cheeks, I would have blushed.

I almost ran into Fawkes when he stopped walking. I look to the right, and see the sickly green glow of the irradiated room that the GECK is in.

“Alright. You better not enter, human. This radiation is lethal to you. Stay here, and I will fulfill my end of the bargain,” he grunts, and my partner nods at him.

“Thank you, Fawkes.”

“No. Thank you, human.”

He turns around, and enters the room. On her tiptoes, Percy watches him inside through the window, while I keep watch, guarding her six just in case. Soon after, Fawkes returns carrying a briefcase.

That’s the GECK? What the hell?

“You got it!” Percy exclaims, taking the briefcase off of the super mutant’s hands gingerly. “Again, thank you so much Fawkes. You wouldn’t believe how important this is to us.”

“It’s my pleasure, Percy. Now, I believe this is farewell.”

Farewell?

I turn to Percy and see her somber expression. Good grief, don’t tell me she’s already getting attached to him. This happened with the Big Town kids too.

“Farewell? Fawkes, why don’t you come with us?”

Okay. Okay, I am definitely accepting that Fawkes indeed is good and that I shouldn’t judge him because of him being a super mutant, or metahuman, but this? Had Percy gone mad? Travelling with him could get us killed!

Before I can open my mouth and say something that might possibly anger her, Fawkes already took care of the problem.

“Sorry, I’m afraid a Super Mutant wouldn’t be welcome in the places you frequent.”

“But you said it yourself, you’re a metahuman! You’re different from the other mutants we-”

“All I would do is cause you undue attention and probably get you killed,” Fawkes interrupts, a tinge of sorrow in his grating voice.

“I- you’re right,” Percy sighs, relenting.

“Take care of yourself, friend.”

And with that, we parted ways.

I can tell Percy is sad by the slump in her shoulders. As much as it pains me to see her like this, it’s for the better. The Brotherhood can barely tolerate my presence. Fawkes? They’d shoot him on sight. It’s definitely for his safety too.

“Do you think we’ll see him again, Charon?”

“I don’t think we’ll see him anytime soon.”

“I’m worried.”

“Worry about yourself, angel. Have you seen him? He pummeled that other mutie no problem, like a kid throwing a teddy bear.”

“I guess you’re right. I- Charon, get down.”

Out of instinct, I listen to her. Percy pulls up her PipBoy, and a worried expression is etched on her features. “So many red dots… Charon, I think we’re about to encounter a huge group of muties.”

“Should we go back and get Fawkes?”

Gripping her rifle, she checks the magazine, then she pats at the ammo pouches on her waist. I proceed to check my own ammunition too. Just two boxes of shotgun shells left, and a grenade; the same grenade Percy gave me when she first hired me. I haven’t used it yet, after all these months.

We’re running low on ammo.

“No, no. Stay low. We’ll sneak out of here,” Percy tells me, and she crouches low, the helmet of her stealth suit protracting over her face, then her suit’s stealth mechanism activates. All I can see is a faint silver-white outline.

“I’ll scout ahead. If I raise a fist, move to my location.”

I nod, and she proceeds.

Cautiously, Percy moves through the hall. My grip on my shotgun remains steady, watching her inch slowly but surely to the open area ahead.

Then, the unthinkable happened.

A pulse grenade drops from the ceiling.

It felt like time slowed all around us. Percy sees the grenade landing near her foot, and turns around, movement abrupt, her helmet retracting from her head and revealing her panicked gaze. Her eyes are wide in terror, lips trembling as she yelled at me.

“Charon!”

My feet are ready to take me to her, but what she screamed before the grenade fried her suit’s systems and took her down made me freeze in my spot.

“I order you to live!”

The pulse grenade burst, and so did the walls of the vault. The rubble flew at Percy, who was falling backwards, her helmet thumping against the metal flooring as she hit the ground. Losing consciousness, the GECK escapes her grasp, and skitters a few feet away from her.

From the newly formed hole in the wall, a man emerges. Colonel Autumn. I thought that asshole was dead!

The Enclave is here.

Heart in my throat, I didn’t know what to do. At that moment, I forgot the contract was gone. I turned around, and obeyed, fleeing from the scene with Percy’s words echoing in my head.

“Charon! I order you to live!”

“I order you to live!”

“Live!”

Live.

51 notes · View notes

hmslusitania · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt: AU to 2.01. during the workout scene Eddie brings up Abby and Buck feels hurt and betrayed that Chim would share his private life with basically a stranger. When Chim says Eddie’s cool Buck says he can be wary of the new guy who gets so comfortable right off the bat when Buck himself got hazed like crazy as a probie. When Chim says Abby’s not a big deal Buck turns to Eddie and asks if he found his abandonment amusing. Eddie feels horrible and Chim finally understands his screw up. Buddie

Hi Anon! I’m not 100% sure this will satisfy your prompt, for which I apologise. That said, in a longer fic I’m currently working on, this scene gets examined hardcore from both Buck and Eddie’s POV and I hope to post that fic soon, so if this does not quite do it, hopefully that will. All that said, I do hope you enjoy this:

The kid is like a brother to him, but good god. It’s only Eddie’s second shift and they haven’t even all clocked in yet, and Buck is already being a dick. Chimney sighs – on the inside – and keeps buttoning his shirt while Buck slams locker doors and Eddie just tries to change.

When Buck finally stomps out of the locker room, Eddie takes a second and then turns to Chim.

“So, is it just me, or…”

“Try not to take it personally,” Chim recommends. He likes Eddie, has liked him since they met. It’s nice to have another medic on the shift, even if Eddie isn’t certified as a paramedic like him and Hen. Bobby’s and Buck’s EMT certification is great and useful but sometimes that little bit of extra medical knowledge comes in handy.

“So he’s just a dick to everyone?” Eddie asks.

Chim sighs. “Nah,” he says. “He’s just – look, the kid’s got a heart of gold, he really does, and most of the time he’s the sweetest guy you’ll meet, like a giant 6’2 golden retriever, but his first serious girlfriend just dumped him and then ghosted him, and he’s been a bit…in a bad mood.”

Although, now that he thinks about it, Buck’s straight up denial about Abby having dumped him has kept his mood afloat well enough. Up until Eddie showed up at the 118. But Chimney can’t fathom how the two would be related.

Eddie nods like that makes sense and they continue getting ready for their shift.

Chimney does his best to stay out of Buck’s way for most of the morning. It’s only by coincidence he finds himself in the gym at the same time as Buck and Eddie. Buck, clearly trying to comfort himself with the hot firefighter calendar, starts taking selfies over by the bench press.

Chimney does not know why Eddie decides to start something.

“You’re in the wrong light, man,” Eddie says. Chim frowns. Light? For a selfie?

“Some of us don’t need lighting to look good,” Buck shoots back.

Chim glances at Buck, but he’s distracted by himself.

“Hey, Eddie? What did you mean by the wrong light?” Chim asks.

Eddie explains about warm side lighting as opposed to flat blue light, and shows off the pictures his niece had taken for him. Chimney doubts that most of the effect is just because of lighting. As he’d pointed out on Eddie’s first shift, that is a beautiful man.

Still, having well done photos can’t hurt.

“You think she’d be willing to take my pictures for me? I’m told I photograph like an Asian Fabio,” Chim says, which gets him a laugh from Eddie.

“Sure she would,” he says.

And then, of course, Hurricane Buck.

“You shouldn’t get his hopes up,” he says to Eddie, all glower. “No offence, Chim.”

Chimney isn’t sure how he’s supposed to take that as anything but offensive. But—

He’s got a heart of gold, Chim reminds himself. He’s got a goddamn heart of gold.

“None taken,” he says, heading back to his bench dips. “Evan.”

He gets maybe two reps in before he hears Eddie say, “Okay, man, what’s your problem?”

Chimney winces and looks over to see Buck getting up in Eddie’s face.

“Okay, you,” Buck says. Chimney frowns. Eddie? It really is personal? “You’re my problem. Your comfort level. You’re – you’re not supposed to just walk in here like you’ve been here for years. There’s supposed to be a getting-to-know-you period. You’re meant to respect your elders.”

That’s what Buck is pissed about?

“You’re not his elder, Buck,” Chim points out. As he says it, he realises he doesn’t actually know how old Eddie is. He’s been assuming due to his work history that he’s on the other side of thirty from Buck, but he doesn’t actually know.

“Look,” Eddie says. He sounds calm and rational, in complete contrast to Buck’s anger and irritation, which Chim takes as a good sign. “I in no way meant to, uh, be too familiar or step on anybody’s toes. I know you’re going through some personal stuff right now.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Chimney can see Buck flinch.

“What personal stuff?” he asks.

Whoops.

“I know your girlfriend recently broke up with you and you’re coming to terms with that,” Eddie says.

“No, I’m not,” Buck says. Which, points for honesty, Chim thinks. “And she didn’t break up with me. Who told you that?”

When they both turn to look at him, Chim tries to melt into his exercise equipment.

“I’m just saying, I hear you’re a good guy, and I’m sorry you’re going through pain but you don’t need to take it out on me,” Eddie says.

“I’m not in pain,” Buck snaps, wounded.

Chim doesn’t mean to heave a dramatic sigh, but it happens. Buck rounds on him.

“And why are you telling all of my personal shit to strangers?” Buck asks.

Chim winces. There are a lot of reasons – Eddie asked; Eddie is already a clear part of the team, not a stranger; because Chimney’s worried about him and gossip is how they deal with things at the 118; but he doesn’t think Buck’s in a mood to accept any of those.

“I asked if you were pissed at me or something else,” Eddie says. “And I’m sorry about your girlfriend, man, I know what it’s like to have someone you thought loved you disappear on you in the dead of night.”

Chimney stops doing his dips and turns to scan Eddie, concerned. But Eddie’s just looking at Buck.

“She didn’t – I drove her to the airport,” Buck says.

He sounds so damn small and vulnerable that despite how much of a dick he’s been recently, Chim kind of wants to just hug him. He’s spent so much of the past four months since Abby left acting like he was completely fine most of the time, and so they hadn’t really…

Well, they hadn’t been there for him. Bobby’s got his reasons, Chim knows, since Hen’s almost certainly right about the secret Bobby-Athena relationship going on in the background. But Chim and Hen could’ve done better.

“Look, man, all I can tell you is that staying in denial isn’t gonna help,” Eddie says. “You’re still gonna get the divorce papers in the mail eventually.”

“We weren’t—” Buck starts and Chimney almost jumps into the conversation to make sure Buck isn’t actually that stupid. “Oh.”

“Truce?” Eddie asks, taking off one of his boxing gloves and holding his hand out in Buck’s direction.

Buck swallows and, after a long, awkward moment, takes Eddie’s hand. “You’re still a probie.”

“I promise you, there is no worse hazing you can do to me than the guys in Afghanistan already did,” Eddie says.

Chimney wonders if he feels like eating those words later that night when Eddie and Buck get into an ambulance with a live grenade. Chim and Hen aren’t on the call with them, since they were already doing a transport from the previous call, but when they all get back to the station, something has clearly shifted between Buck and Eddie.

“You two idiots got in an ambulance with a live grenade?” Hen demands, hands on her hips. Chim has seen her deploy this expression at Denny before. It usually gets her immediate apologies and chagrin.

“Eddie was an army medic,” Buck says. “We were totally safe.”

“Until the ambulance exploded,” Eddie points out.

“Yeah, but we weren’t in it anymore,” Buck says, knocking his shoulder into Eddie’s while they sit at the kitchen counter together. Hen shakes her head slowly, like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “And besides! We saved the patient.”

“Which is what matters,” Eddie adds.

Hen throws her hands up, exasperated. “I’m so glad there are two of you now.”

She stalks off and Chim watches while Buck and Eddie exchange bright smiles. Chim couldn’t say for sure, but he thinks the last time Buck smiled like that, he was talking to Abby. Which is certainly a development Chim didn’t see coming.

He finds Buck later in the bunks.

“Hey,” he says, knocking on Buck’s partition. Buck isn’t asleep, he’s just scrolling through his phone. “Got a sec?”

“Sure,” Buck says, sitting up and dropping his phone into his lap.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Chim says. “Telling Eddie about Abby, I mean. I don’t think any of us really realised how much you’re still hurting over that.”

“I’m fine,” Buck says. It’s too quick, and just a bit too sharp to be genuine.

Chim just waits.

“I’m – I’ve – I’ve been single for four months, haven’t I?” Buck asks quietly.

“Yeah,” Chim says, because Eddie had pointed out, denial just hurts more.

“Great,” Buck says. He clears his throat a couple times like he’s trying to get rid of a blockage. Chimney takes that as an opportunity to clap him on the shoulder.

“You’ve still got your family,” Chim says. “By which I mean the 118, because as far as you’ve said, you may as well have sprung out of the ground fully formed.”

Buck snorts. “I’ve got a sister,” he says, which is the first biological family member Chimney has ever heard Buck mention. “Maddie. She’s actually sleeping on my couch right now.”

“God, a female Buck,” Chim says. “I can’t even imagine how terrifying that must be.”

Buck scoffs and elbows him. “She’s not like me at all. You might even like her. She’s basically the best person ever, just a heart of pure gold.”

Chimney doesn’t quite trust Buck’s judgement when it comes to his sister, but if he’s right, well…

“Certain shitty comments you’ve made recently aside, that sounds exactly like you, Buckaroo,” Chim says.

“Thanks, Chim,” Buck says and sounds like he means it. “And I’m sorry for being a dick.”

Chim nods and claps him on the shoulder again before turning to head back to his own bunk.

“Hey, Chim?”

Chimney pauses.

“Do you think Eddie’s—”

Chimney waits, but all Buck says is “never mind.”

Their next call isn’t until morning when they find a group of idiots who have cemented their friend’s head into a microwave. When the kid falls into a pool, Buck jumps in to save him without hesitation and Eddie is only a split second behind him.

Chim doesn’t think about it until they’re all back at the station and changing out for the end of shift, but he thinks that this particular level of drift compatibility between Buck and Eddie might be a bit of a dangerous thing.

When they’re all back in civvies, Eddie says goodbye to everyone and starts to leave, only for Buck to follow him out, calling, “Hey! Eddie! There’s a really great brunch place down the street if you want to grab something, maybe?”

Chim and Hen watch them go, and wait until they’ve both driven off – together, even if in separate vehicles – before commenting.

“They’re gonna give us all heart attacks, aren’t they,” Hen says, resigned.

“Oh yeah,” Chim agrees.

“At least Buck seems happier?” Hen asks.

“Small victories,” Chim replies. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“See you then,” she says, going back to cleaning her locker.

Chimney only makes it as far as the parking lot before he’s stopped dead in his tracks by a breathtakingly beautiful woman. He’s never been a poetry kind of guy, but he’s pretty sure he could wax poetic about the bright stars in her eyes for several days if pressed. It doesn’t hurt that she’s holding a large Tupperware of baked goods.

“How can I help?” Chim asks, swallowing his gum. There’s nowhere to spit it out and no way to do that in front of a pretty girl that doesn’t look tacky.

“I was actually looking for Evan Buckley,” she says. “I wanted to surprise him. He said he was having a kind of intense shift.”

Chimney feels an instant spike of envy, and then realises who she is.

“You must be Buck’s sister,” he says.

“I am,” she agrees. “Maddie Kendall. Well, Buckley, again, I guess.”

“I’m Chimney,” he says, offering her his hand to shake.

She balances the container of baked goods on one forearm and shakes his hand. “It’s nice to put a face to a name. Buck says you’re one of the best guys at the station.”

Chimney can’t help but smile at that. “That’s funny, I was just saying the same thing about him.”

Maddie laughs and Chimney is struck by the desire to make her laugh always.

He stands there, grinning at her like an idiot, for much longer than he should until Maddie finally says, “So, where would I find him?”

“Oh! Sorry! You just missed him,” Chimney says. “He already left for a brunch date with the probie.”

Maddie’s eyebrows lift, delighted. “A date?”

Chim shrugs. “I’m not sure either of them knows that part, but definitely.”

“How about I put these down somewhere and you tell me absolutely everything,” Maddie suggests, holding up the box of muffins.

“I don’t know if I should,” Chim says, showing her up the stairs to the loft where D shift are working on the coffee maker. “I kinda got in trouble for telling people things about him recently.”

“Mm, big sister’s prerogative,” Maddie says, happily accepting the cup of coffee Chimney offers her.

“Okay, but if he yells at me again, I’m blaming you,” Chimney says. He takes one of the muffins from the now open container and groans. So not only is she gorgeous and the best person ever by Buck’s estimation, she can also cook and she thinks Chimney is funny. “These are amazing.”

“Thank you,” Maddie says. “And I’m sure we can work something out about Buck re blame. So long as you dish.”

Chimney grins. “Deal.”

#the ghost ship scribbles #the ghost ship answers questions #9-1-1 #9-1-1 fic #pre-buddie #pre-madney #2x01 revisioning #Anonymous

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acraftedmistake · 3 years ago

Text

Nether Time!

Cassie and Petra need to get stuff from the Nether! It’s been a while since they’ve done this.

“Nether time!” Petra sang as she leapt out the portal.

“Nether time!” Cassie Rose chimed as well, landing right beside her friend.

The two exchanged big grins with one another. Cassie was holding onto her outfit so tightly she thought it’d tear.

It’s been ages since they’ve been in their house together. Everything still looked and felt the same. The red and teal carpet was still covering the netherrack floor, still stained and torn, the walls were that weird combination of wood and netherrack that she remembers so fondly, shelves and counters surrounded them, holding both their’s and the previous owner’s items. Those four cushioned chairs they placed in the upper left corner of the house--the ‘kitchen’--have yet to move. The kitchen itself was just a few chests filled with food, a battered stove that stopped working years ago, and a cauldron with strange splatters in it. There were also the remains of their kitchen table. Used to be fine, sturdy wood, but when they first arrived at this house, monsters were trying to break in, so they had to use the base of the table and the legs to fend themselves. The decorations were still hung up too! Bells, chimes, other sorts of art pieces attached to strings that hung from the ceiling, just as Cassie remembers it.

Well, it technically isn’t ‘their’ house. Their portal just happened to appear inside this strange old place one day, and they claimed it. Finders keepers, you know? Besides, the previous owners were probably long dead.

“Come on, we need to get your pumpkin.” Petra made her way to the counters beside the portal. The countertops were covered with broken weapons, ores, and strange nik naks they found over the years, and sitting in the middle of it all: Cassie’s white pumpkin.

Petra grabbed the hollowed fruit and spun it around in her hands, “You’ll be happy to hear I’ve been taking good care of your other pumpkins back at the cave.”

“That’s impressive, considering you somehow managed to kill a cactus that one time.”

“Hey, I already told you that stupid cactus killed itself. I was gone for one day, and when I came back, it was dead. I did nothing wrong.” Petra denied as she tossed Cassie her pumpkin.

Cassie quickly dropped her extra set of clothes to catch her it, “Did you water it when the soil got dry?”

“It’s a cactus. Water’s irrelevant.” Petra avoided Cassie’s little glare by facing the counter again and sorting through the random items.

Cassie held the pumpkin in her hands and stared at it for a moment. It’s been a few years since she’s worn it last. Memories were flooding through her. She still remembered how she first got her hands on her first pumpkin; she stole it from a crazy old guy’s backyard. She just happened to spot it while walking through a random town one day, Petra told her ‘If ya like it, get it.’ And she did exactly that. It was a real strange pumpkin. When the two cut it open, it hardly had any guts, and the inside smelled like… Nothing. Well, it smelled ‘wet’ if that was possible. The sorta wetness you’d smell in a forest after it’d rain. They were surprised at how durable it was too, which soon sparked the amazing idea of shoving her head inside the pumpkin and using it for protective gear. It sounds ridiculous--heck, it probably looks ridiculous--but it works, and Cassie likes it, so that’s all that matters.

Cassie ended up planting the few pumpkin seeds years ago, and before she knew it, she had a bunch of = pumpkins to last.

Cassie can trust Petra with the pumpkin care, but she always makes sure to check in on them. That white pumpkin got her into plants, she even has a few houseplants back at home, but she’s still too embarrassed to tell anyone yet.

“Oh!” Petra snapped her fingers. She dashed back to the portal, shoved the upper-half of her body into the vortex, then came back out with her Wither Skull in hands. “Nearly forgot this bad boy.”

“I’m surprised that thing’s still in one piece.” Cassie said while she watched Petra grab a cloth from a chest in the kitchen.

“Right? This thing’s insane!” Petra exclaimed as she cleaned the inside of her painted skull. “One time I forgot it outside, a quake happened, and when I ran out to get it back, a tree landed on it and it was still in one piece.”

“You ever thinking of repainting it?” Cassie asked. She began putting on her long, oversized, dark blue pants over her leggings.

“Nah, the stripes are iconic. “ Petra tossed the cloth aside then shoved her head into the skull.

Cassie let out a grunt as she struggled to put her large long-sleeved shirt over her hoodie. She knew she was going to be drowning in sweat with three layers on, but that’s three extra layers of fire protection. When she finally got it on, she began tying the belt around her waist and slipped on her thick, brown gloves.

As she was adjusting her gloves, Petra handed her a crooked pickaxe and a worn-down sword.

“If I knew you were comin’ over today, I would’ve made some better tools for you.” Petra said. She was holding a blue backpack in her other hand that’s seen better days. One black strap had been completely torn off while the other was just barely holding on. There were holes where the buttons used to be. Hopefully it’ll be able to hold their stuff.

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Cassie said, holding the tools by the sides of her arms. “We’re just gonna pick up a few things anyways.”

Cassie stuck her head into the pumpkin.

“You ready?” Cassie asked, her voice muffled. She took the weapons out and held them firmly.

“Super ready.” Petra smiled as she watched Cassie twirl the tools around before shoving them into her pockets.

Petra swung open the front door, and a horrible heatwave rushed in and hit their faces. Cassie’s eyes watered. You’d think after all those years of exploring the Nether, she’d get used to it, but it always seems to get worse each time.

Petra held the door open with her foot and the girls made some quick, last-minute readjustments with their outfits.

Cassie glanced to the side and spotted a familiar sign hanging under the doorknob. It was a piece of oak wood with the words “No Boys Allowed” that she made as a joke. That was way back when they first spawned into this house.

“Why do you still have that old sign up?” Cassie asked, surprised it hadn’t burnt to a crisp.

“To keep the boys out.” Petra said casually as she closed the door.

“But we’re the only two here though.”

“All thanks to the sign.” A little smirk formed on Petra’s face.

Cassie rolled her eyes and gave Petra a playful shove as they went out into The Neighborhood.

The Neighborhood… A sweltering ghost town. Awakening members used to live here years ago. Their ‘homes’ were just hollowed out holes in netherrack hills, making the place look more like a Hellish wasp nest than a cozy neighborhood. The openings were usually covered in old wood, and their front doors were rather busted or missing. And the way these houses were placed in such unorganized clutters just felt… Wrong. People weren’t meant to live in the Nether.

Any leftover space was taken up by Nether portals. It didn’t matter if the space between the houses were huge or cramped, people found ways of making the portals fit. Maybe the Neighborhood looked real pretty when the portals were all activated, but they’ve been deactivated for years, and Cassie and Petra weren’t planning on lighting them up anytime soon. It was bad luck to reactivate dead portals.

“So what things you lookin’ for again?” Petra asked.

“Gold’s high on the list,” Cassie replied, “we also need extra iron, extra flint, and some netherrack just in case.”

“Awh shoot, what?!” Petra froze. Her tone turned serious.

“What? What’s up?!”

“Do you know how hard it is to find netherrack!? We’ll be looking around for hours!” Petra exclaimed, standing on the netherrack floor. Surrounded by netherrack hills. With a netherrack covered sky.

Cassie couldn’t see Petra’s face, but she KNEW she had that big, dumb smile.

Cassie gave her a quick bonk on the skull and bent down to gather an arms-full of netherrack chunks, all while Petra was laughing.

“Damn, talk about lucky.” Petra teased, “You always had a good eye for rare items.” She slipped the bag off her shoulders and opened the flap for Cassie.

“Yeah, yeah. You gonna be messing with me the entire time we’re here?” Cassie rolled her eyes as she shoved the netherrack into the sack.

“Awh, come on, it’s been almost two years since we’ve done this. I’ve missed ya.” Petra said. The two began walking again. “It’s really boring without ya, you know?”

“Man, has it really been two years?” Cassie stared at her feet, a feeling of guilt starting to gnaw at her.

“But I mean--mentally, it’s only been two days.” Cassie said, looking back at Petra.

“Ex-ACT-ly. Time doesn’t move unless we’re together. Common knowledge.” Petra gave her a grin. Cassie couldn’t see most of it, but she could feel it. It was reassuring.

The two stepped over a wooden bridge that was splayed out over the ground. It’s been there since day once, wood planks, rope, and all. They kept telling themselves they’re gonna move it, but they never do. It’s not like it’s a huge obstacle or anything.

There was a lotta stuff like that around the Neighborhood. If you looked up, you could see more bridges hanging between the hills, many of them missing their planks or dangling by their threads, and a bunch of the houses built into the top of the hills had staircases, ladders, or ramps that stretched all across the area. Cassie and Petra had the “fun” experience of finding out which ones were stable or not.

“So, shouldn’t we start looking through the houses or somethin’?” Cassie asked, her eyes scanning the dozens of houses they’d have to scour through.

There were still items in these houses. Even though this place was abandoned years ago, a looming presence remains. Dirty dishes sitting in cauldrons, rotting meals on kitchen tables, unfinished letters on desks, wrinkled blankets on unmade beds, all signs that this ghost town was once full of life. Petra and Cassie have spotted many weird trinkets The Awakening members have made; chunky jewelry, small dolls carved from nearby materials, chimes, and masks that lacked eyeholes. Many, many art pieces included the Awakening symbols: A red flower with hundreds of petals, their empty eye, and the Hero. Another thing many homes seemed to have were mirrors, but they were never in one piece. Instead, they were often broken into several large parts and tied to strings that’d hang from the ceiling, or arranged in odd shapes on the walls. Sometimes the shape would resemble their eye, but most of the time it looked like nonsense.

“Nah, I have a different place in mind.” Petra replied.

“Have we been there before?” Cassie tilted her head.

“Perhaps.” Petra said, “Just gotta wait and see.”

The two stayed on the path, which was a mix of netherrack, gravel, and soul soil, passing under the hanging decor above.

Wooden poles were on each side of the path with rope tied to the tops, connecting them together while chimes, flags, and glass hung from the threads. When a hot breeze came by, the Neighborhood would create its own music. The clinking of the glass, the flapping of banners, the clattering of metal chimes, and the creaking of wooden doors created this strange but soothing sympathy to fill the silence.

“How’re things with the other Jesse and Olivia goin’?” Petra asked, swinging her sword around.

“Frustrating.” Cassie huffed.

“Oh?”

“Things were kinda going okay until Aiden decided to basically blurt out what was happening to our Jesse. Now Stella’s all stressed out, and we gotta keep an eye out for that cult creep, and Aiden’s probably gonna be super bummed that he made poor little Jesse upset--” Cassie ranted.

“I remember bout Aiden spillin’ the beans.” Petra commented. “Sorry everything’s been stressful.”

“It’s been so freaky with those two around! I dunno if I should be happy, upset, but Hero, everytime I look at them for more than a minute I start to feel sick.” Cassie felt that familiar queasy feeling rising in her stomach, “I’m not saying they’re bad people or something, just that… Everything sucks. And having our Jesse running around isn’t helping.”

“I mean, it’s a weird situation. Don’t blame you at all for feeling that way. Heck, even when I first saw them I was thrown off. Felt like two freaks wearing Olivia and Jesse’s skins.” Petra noticed her friend falling behind and waited for her to catch up.

“That’s a fun way to put it.” Cassie said, trudging along.

“Jess and Liv,” Cassie mumbled, “they’re nice, but I can’t wait for them to go home. I wanna forget this ever happened. They make me miss those two all over again.”

“I can imagine.” Petra went quiet when Cassie joined her side. The sounds of the Neighborhood filled the air.

Petra extended her arm out, “I’m here for ya, though, ya know? If you ever wanna complain, cry, or get angry about that Radar guy, I’m always here.” It was hard to see it, but through the gaps of the skull’s teeth, Petra was giving her a smile.

“Thanks.” Cassie took one hand out of her pocket and went to lock arms with Petra, something they used to do years ago, “I mean it.”

“Course.” Petra said.

And with that, the two picked up the pace.

Petra glanced at her friend then glanced at the various portals surrounding them, “I’m gonna guess Jesse and Olivia didn’t walk through an obsidian portal, right?”

“No, some weird blue portal. Probably lapis. I wish it was somethin’ as easy as obsidian.” Cassie sighed. “I’m guessing you haven’t seen Jesse recently?” She asked.

“Nope.” Petra lied, “Not yet. I’ll let you know though.”

Cassie gave her a nod and looked ahead. They were nearing the Nether Fortress. Their Nether Fortress.

Seeing this place after so long… It was like seeing it for the first time again. The broken, tall towers, the bridge stretching across the sea of lava, the ruined railway system, it was so otherworldly. The only thing missing were those hundreds of monsters crawling around the place that Cassie and Petra used to beat up.

That wide open bridge over boiling magma--with the Fortress being so close--was just begging Cassie to run across it.

Petra noted Cassie’s excitement and unlocked arms with her.

“Go ‘head, I’ll be right behind ya.” Petra said with a grin, and on cue, Cassie bolted off to the entrance.

Memories of the two of them raced through Cassie’s mind. The hot air hitting her face, the colors blurring together, her feet stinging each time they hit the ground, it was just like old times. This was liberating.

“Hey, I’m winning!”

Cassie whipped her head at just the right time to see Petra taking the lead.

“Not for long!” Cassie hollered as she picked up the pace.

They were both set on the entrance. Cassie could see Petra out of the corner of her eye. She could feel the confidence radiating from her, like she knew she was gonna win. But not this time.

When Cassie was just feet from the entrance, she dived. She crashed into the ground, her pumpkin making a loud THUD when it hit the floor.

Before she could push herself up, Petra fell on top of her. She must’ve had the same idea.

Both of them were laying on the ground, panting and laughing.

“Pretty sure I won.” Petra finally said.

“Nu-uh, my hand made it past the entrance first!” Cassie shot back, still breathing heavily.

“Yeah, but your hand didn’t touch the ground first, so technically--”

“Since when were you about technicalities?!” Cassie exclaimed. Petra could hear the laughs between her words.

“Alright, if it’ll make you happy, then I’ll admit it…” Petra got up and helped Cassie to her feet. “We tied.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Welp, guess we’ll never know who won.” Petra shrugged. Cassie gave her a playful shove.

“Yeah, yeah.” Cassie adjusted her belt. The two stopped and faced an intersection of three hallways.

“Which way do we need to go?” asked Cassie.

Petra glanced at the wooden arrow signs above then pointed ahead, “Straight, then a left, then straight again.”

“Got it.” Cassie started walking and couldn’t help but snicker at the words on the signs. There were a bunch of those signs hanging around here, their original words have long since faded, so she and Petra took some creative liberties.

Cassie recalled those directions, they were heading towards the ‘Spicy Abyss’, which was the second bridge on the other side of the Fortress. It's in ruins, so the two of them just like to sit on the edge and enjoy the view.

The middle sign was ‘Lotsa Boxes’, which is the hallway they’re currently walking through. It’s a rather wide hall--nearly as wide as the bridge they just crossed--that’s filled with abandoned stalls, carts, and chests. The stalls had boxes in, on, and around them, the old carts had boxes in them, and the chests--the chests were already boxes. This place must’ve been a Trading Hall, a storage, or even a marketplace for the Neighborhood back then. The way everything was arranged reminded Cassie of the night-market in Obsidian Town; lots of trading, buying, and selling, except not in the middle of the blazing-hot Nether.

Banners hung from short poles in the walls, all shades of red, turquoise, and gold while covered with symbols and faded words advertising goods. When Cassie and Petra first found this place, they were surprised at how many tools, ores, and old books were left behind, so of course they gathered them all up and sold ‘em. Made them a great deal of money!

The two took a left and continued down another hallway. They were pretty close to ‘Petra Fell’; those were the words on the last sign. It was one of the three tall towers you could see through the windows. It was the shortest of the bunch, it’s upper half is completely missing, but it was the best place to climb and get a fantastic view.

Cassie and Petra haven’t been on top of that tower in years. The last time they were, Petra was playing around near the edge, stumbled, and nearly fell to her death had it not been for Cassie catching her. Petra’s been terrified of heights since then. Cassie can’t blame her.

It’d be nice to rush through that tower again with Petra, even if she didn’t want to go to the very top, it’d be a great… The tower…

It looked different.

Cassie couldn’t put her finger on it, but something was off. She could feel it.

“Hey, did that tower get shorter? Or have I just been gone for too long?” Cassie asked.

Petra didn’t even glance at the tower, “Already noticing my hard work, I see.”

“Hard work?” Cassie tilted her head. Petra didn’t elaborate. Cassie kept pestering her, but she wouldn’t budge until they reached the end of the hall.

Where there used to be a big, gaping hole was now covered up by tons of banners. They were sloppily sewn together, trying to hide every piece of the other side.

“So,” Petra began, “Remember how I said I had a different place in mind to find those items?”

“Yeah?” Cassie answered slowly.

“And remember how we always wanted to build that bridge to the other side of the Nether?” A grin grew on Petra’s face as she watched Cassie’s eyes light up.

Cassie gasped, “No, nu-uh, you did not!”

“I did.” Petra raised her brows. When Cassie took another step forward, Petra yanked the banners off to reveal a magnificent bridge that stretched across the sea of lava and connected to the other side of the Nether. It was a mish mash of netherrack, nether brick, gravel, and even some obsidian. There weren’t any rails on it, and Cassie was certain it hardly had any support underneath it.

It looked dangerous.

It looked fantastic.

Petra watched Cassie take all this in. She was bouncing in place, hands over her mouth, all excited like a li’l kid. Man, Petra could only imagine what Cassie’s face was like under that pumpkin. Her eyes were probably sparkling and she had that big, dorky smile that’s bright enough to light up this entire fortress.

“Oh Hero, oh--Oh I canNOT believe you!” Cassie exclaimed, grabbing Petra and shaking her excitedly before giving her a big hug.

“Hey, we always wanted to see more of the Nether together.” Petra chuckled, “Thought this would be a nice little surprise for when you came back.”

Cassie let go to look at the bridge again; Petra took a lungful of air.

“And don’t worry, it’s stable.” Petra said, “I’ve tested this bad boy out hundreds of times and only had several near death experiences.”

“Perfect, great! All I need to hear.” Cassie was revved up. She dug her feet into the ground, ready to blast off, but she stopped herself. “Agh, wait. I promised Aiden I’d come back home soon.”

“How soon?” Petra leaned against the wall.

“Like, by the end of tomorrow, I think?”

“Well, you got here at a pretty good time, so we got, what? Several hours to work with?” Petra tapped the skull’s chin, “If we’re fast enough, we could see some good sights and get your stuff. So whaddya say?”

Petra got closer to Cassie, “Wanna see how fast we can blast through this sucker?”

Despite the skull hiding her face, Cassie knew Petra was smiling, and Cassie smiled right back at her.

#mcsm #minecraft story mode #mcsm petra #mcsm cassie #fic #another part of apwhnpmcsmwasamcsm #it is like a half chapter!!#enjoy!!

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nah-she-didnt · 4 years ago

Note

Erm.... hi.... I don't think this was on the prompt list that you posted recently, but it's a prompt I've seen somewhere else on Tumblr: for Wolfstar, could you do "I love you no matter what your brain tells you."? It's totally 100% okay if not ofc, no pressure <3

Hello! Sorry this took a bit, inspiration struck, but free time did not. I altered your prompt a tiiiny bit to make it a cleaner fit for my idea.

Also, while I LOVE my jily-centric followers so much, if any wolfstar blogs out there wanted to reblog this I would love to get into that space more since I do write a fair number of remus/sirius fics!

Enjoy! Once again, I did not proof read this thoroughly, so I apologize for any obvious typos!

“I Love You No Matter What Your Head Tells You”

Remus was utterly exhausted.

His first night as a prefect had not gone smoothly. One particularly thick first year had managed to get himself lost on the way to the Gryffindor common room, a feat that Remus previously thought was impossible considering that the prefects always led the first years to the dorm in one large group. However, Matthew McMorris claimed he’d been so distracted by a painting of medieval witches on the third floor that he’d looked up to find his group nowhere to be found. And so, it fell to Remus to retrieve him. Thank god for the map.

Remus turned to shoot McMorris a stern look as they climbed through the portrait hole. “Right, straight upstairs with you. You’ll be grateful for a full eight hours of sleep before your first lesson tomorrow, trust me.” The boy scowled at him before scampering away to the boy’s staircase.

Remus yawned and stretched dramatically as he glanced around the room. Most of the students had already gone to bed, but James, Peter, and Dorcas sat together on the couch in front of the fire.

“Alright?” James asked absentmindedly as he studied his hand of Exploding Snap cards. Peter held his hand upside down as if hoping that a new perspective would allow inspiration to strike.

“Fantastic,” Remus muttered as he dropped into the seat next to Dorcas, “who’s winning?”

“Who do you think,” Peter grumbled as he watched James play a particularly good hand, “how do you manage to rope me into this stupid game every time?”

James shrugged. “I guess you’re a glutton for punishment.”

The boys continued to bicker. Dorcas nudged Remus with her elbow. “Do you know what’s up with Black tonight?”

Remus didn’t meet her gaze. He knew that Sirius had been in a particularly bad mood on the Hogwarts Express. The mood must have been the result of an entire summer spent cooped up in Grimmauld Place. “What do you mean?”

“The berk snapped at me earlier!” Dorcas scoffed, “I asked him how his summer was and said ‘mind your own fucking business.’ Very uncool.”

“Yeah,” Remus said distractedly as he glanced towards the boys’ staircase, “extremely uncool.”

“Don’t even think about going up there, Moony,” James called over his shoulder, “he’s not in the mood. We’re giving him some space before we go up.”

Remus frowned at James. “You mean you’re just leaving him up there, alone? After the summer he’s had?”

James shrugged again. “He said he wanted to be alone. I wasn’t about to argue.”

Remus shook his head and stood. “Well, I’m going to check on him.”

“Godspeed, mate,” Peter called at his retreating back.

Remus marched towards their dormitory determinedly, but lost confidence with each step up the spiral stairs. Sirius could be wildly unpleasant when he was in one of his moods, and he’d already had a stressful night of rounding up wild first years. Nevertheless, Remus couldn’t bear to think of him up there all alone. Perhaps when Sirius said he wanted space from his friends, he didn’t mean Remus himself. Maybe Sirius would be glad to see him.

Remus paused with his knuckles inches from the door. One last chance to turn back, he thought to himself. After a moment’s hesitation, he shoved his worries aside and rapped loudly on the door.

A loud hmph greeted his knock. Remus took this as an indication that he was allowed to enter.

Sirius was sprawled out on his four-poster bed, still fully clothed. He stared up at the ceiling as he tossed an old quaffle up into the air only to catch it at his chest again and again. He didn’t look around as Remus sidled into the room.

“Um, hi,” Remus offered awkwardly, “did you have a good time at the feast?”

Sirius grunted again.

“Oh. Well, good,” he waited for Sirius to say something back, but he seemed fixated on throwing and catching that damn quaffle.

At least a minute of silence passed. Remus felt himself sweating slightly. He glanced around the room, desperate for something to talk about. The silence was oppressive. If he didn’t say something soon, he would explode faster than Peter’s cards.

In his desperation, Remus felt himself ask the worst possible question. “Did you have a good summer?”

Sirius caught the quaffle one last time, then hugged it to his chest. Remus could have smacked himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, “I just meant- we don’t have to talk about your summer, let’s talk about something-”

“No,” Sirius said softly, still gazing at the ceiling, “it’s alright. My summer was shit, thank you for asking.”

There wasn’t a hint of irony or anger in his tone. It was a simple truth. His summer had been pure, total shit.

“I’m sorry,” Remus mumbled to his shoes.

He heard Sirius scoff. “Not your fault.”

Another moment of silence followed this pronouncement. However, this silence wasn’t like the one before. Sirius seemed to be thinking long and hard about what he had just said, completely lost in his own thoughts. It was as if he’d forgotten that Remus was in the room.

Finally, he spoke again.

“They’ve gone absolutely mental,” he nearly whispered, “mental. You know they’re full-on blood purists now, right?”

Remus shifted uncomfortably. He knew that Sirius’ parents had become more and more radicalized over the years, but Sirius had rarely opened up about their beliefs, and Remus never asked.

“They think I’m the ultimate blood traitor. Worse than a blood traitor, actually. A ‘lazy, ungrateful, sorry excuse for a son.’ That was what she called me last night when I told her I didn’t want to come home for the holidays. Ungrateful because I don’t want to end up a hateful, spiteful hag like her.”

Sirius grew more agitated with every passing word. Remus could see his knuckles growing white as he gripped the quaffle fiercely into himself.

“And the really fucked up part is that they clearly love Reg more. And I get it, right? I can see why they love him so much because he kisses their arses. I know he loves me and all, but he cares more about what they think than about supporting me. That’s the worst fucking part.”

Sirius brought his hand to his face under the pretense of scratching his nose, but Remus knew that he was wiping a tear on the cuff of his shirt.

“I just can’t get them out of my head,” he sighed, “stupid, useless, blood traitor. Unworthy of love. And all the rest. It’s like there’s a record in my head that plays over and over again, and I can’t turn it off. It’s hell.”

Remus felt completely frozen. He had absolutely no idea what to say to any of this. All the responses that ran through his head felt tired and unhelpful. Sirius did not need someone to lie to him and tell him that his parents really cared for him, deep down. He didn’t need someone to tell him that it would all be alright in the end, that everything would work itself out.

The only thing he could think to say tumbled from his lips before he could stop himself.

“Well, I love you no matter what your head tells you.”

Sirius’ head snapped up. He looked Remus in the eye for the first time since he entered the room. A beat passed between them, a moment that allowed Remus to realize what he’d just said. He felt his cheeks burn with panic.

“We! We love you, me and James and...and Peter,” Remus finished weakly. Excellent. There was nothing unreasonable about expressing the familial love shared between four boys who were like brothers, right?

Sirius blinked at him, then nodded slowly. He looked as if he were trying to solve a particularly complicated arithmancy equation in his head. “Right. Thanks, Moony.”

Remus let out a breath. He started to back up towards the door to the dormitory. “Well, I’ll leave you alone again. Or, I dunno, do you want to come downstairs? Pete’s about ready to blow James’ head off if he wins at Exploding Snap again.”

Sirius still looked preoccupied as he eyed Remus. Finally, he lifted his gaze back up to the underside of his four-poster.

“Nah,” he grunted as he threw the quaffle into the air again, “you go. I’m not in the mood.”

Remus nodded, then turned to leave. Just before he could shut the door behind him, Sirius called, “Moony?”

Remus nearly tripped over himself as he hurried back through the door. “Yeah, Pads?”

Sirius grinned his lopsided grin. The one that made Remus’ head go fuzzy. “Thanks again. I love you too.”

Remus smiled back, then closed the door. He hardly noticed the way he pounded down the cold stone steps back into the common room, as he was too busy walking on air.

#nina writes #wolfstar #remus/sirius #remus lupin #harry potter #i wasn't totally satisfied with how this turned out #but i'm trying not to let that stop me from posting #sometimes i'll post fics that I'm not too confident about only to find that people absolutely love them #and sometimes i post fics that i'm crazy proud of that don't get much traction #it's all good practice!

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thewatermelloncat · 3 years ago

Text

Disorganised Closets (Denali)

Jan, Rosé

Summary: Denali stumbles upon Rosé in an unexpected place. If only they could have interacted like this in a different circumstance.

Author’s Note: This work is a part of a three pieces series covering characters facing struggles of the LGBTQIA+ community. These works are not intended to assume anyone’s sexuality (please remember these are fictional characters) or experiences (because everyone’s will be different). Also please read the warnings and with caution because the angst potential comes heavy with such matters. Sending love ❤

Warnings: BEING OUTED

Read on AO3

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

People always said there were moments that they wanted to die. Denali had always thought that the analogy was a little extreme but now she could see some relevance. Except the thought of dying was still too extravagant, but the thought of disappearing completely was certainly appealing.

Though the best she could do was brush through the crowd of the cafeteria before she ran out to the field, sprinting out behind the sports shed and into the trees of the forest, out of bounds. She doubted anyone would find her, she was a fast runner and no one apart from Jan would follow her. Everyone else had already had their fun – she hopes anyway.

She raises her hands to her ears trying to block out the overlaying voices that now only exist in her mind. And the memory of them brings her to her knees, her legs becoming too weak to stand.

Outed by her own parents.

People who she trusted. Though it must be her fault because she chose to tell them. Maybe she just wasn’t clear enough that the information was supposed to stay between them.

“Denali?”

She suddenly becomes aware of a presence behind her, gentle hands touching her shoulders. Within a second, she is on her feet, backing away from the person near her.

“Hey, it’s okay” Rosé has her hands up in surrender. Standing on the spot and continuing to let Denali back away from her.

“Did you follow me? How many people know I’m here?” Denali somehow manages to get out.

“I don’t think anyone knows, and I was already here” Rosé says calmly.

Denali settles a little as she stands on the spot before suddenly brushing away the tears she hadn’t known were spilling down her face.

“Come on, I’ll take you to a place further in” Rosé suggests, moving towards her slowly. “No one is going to find us there.”

Weakly Denali nods. The idea of no one finding her sounding nice. And she lets Rosé guide her along, further into the trees, with a hand on her back. Helping her navigate over tree roots and steeper slopes of track.

It’s only a short way until Rosé sits her down on a rock near a small stream where Denali notes Rosé’s bag already is.

“What’s happened?” Rosé asks as she sits down next to her.

Denali means to say something but all that comes out are broken sobs and parts of words she can’t completely form.

“It’s okay, take your time” Rosé reaches her arm around her shoulder, her fingers running patterns into her arm.

“Everyone knows” Denali eventually chokes out.“Knows what?”

“That I’m gay” Denali pulls in a breath. “My parents told people that I’m lesbian.”

“Your parents?” Rosé asks, not knowing if she heard it correctly.

Denali nods as her breath chokes in her throat. “They told people at their work and they told their kids and their kids go here, and now everyone knows.”

“Shit” Rosé runs her free hand through her hair. “I wish I could find something to say, but that sounds rough.”

“I just wish I knew what to do.”

“I wish I could tell you.”

“I’m not ready for this” Denali sinks her head in her hands.

“I know” Rosé says simply, her tone kind as she pulls Denali onto her lap like she had to Jan a little over a month ago. “But, like most things, everything normally finds its own way of working itself out.”

Denali tries to pull in a calming breath as Rosé’s arms wrap protectively around her. In other times she had fantasised about Rosé’s arms being around her, but she’d never wanted it to be like this.

“I’m not saying that it’s not going to be hard because it really, really is. But I’m sure that you’ll find a way to get through it.”

“I just don’t want to go home” Denali says quietly as she leans her head against Rosé’s shoulder.

“I know” Rosé pulls away a little to get a better look at her. “Do you want to stay over with Jan tonight?”

Denali says nothing but Rosé can see in her eyes that she’s considering it.

“Might be good to have some time to think about what you want to say to your parents before you see them again. That way no one does anything stupid.”

Denali nods and is about to say something but stops when her name is called out in the distance.

“Denali?” Jan’s voice faintly echoes again through the trees.

Rosé draws in a breath as she turns away from Denali. “Down here!” she calls out for her.

Seconds later the scuffle of leaves gets louder as Jan follows her sister’s voice. Appearing into their view with her bag on her back and Denali’s in her hand.

“I swear I’ve been looking for you forever” she sighs as she comes to crouch down in front of her. “I couldn’t find anyone who knew where you went until I found someone who saw you disappear into the trees.”

“Rosé found me” Denali mumbles quietly.

Jan flicks her eyes over to her sister in an appreciative glance.

“Denali’s going to stay with us tonight” Rosé tells her as her fingers continue to run patterns into Denali’s arms.

Jan nods as she shuffles her footing from under her. “I’ve got a class I can probably skip after this. Do you want to go now?”

Denali nods.

“Here, take my keys” Rosé holds them out to Jan after she fishes them out of her pocket. “I’d drop you home, but I have a class I can’t miss.”

“Do you want me to swing around to pick you up after school?” Jan asks as she takes them.

“Nah, I’ll walk” Rosé shakes her head.

Jan nods as she stands, helping Denali to her feet as well. “Come on, we’ll sneak around the back.”

“If you follow the stream, it’ll take you around to the back of the car park” Rosé notifies.

“We’ll take that way then” Jan decides brightly, taking hold of Denali’s hand.

“Don’t crash” Rosé warns as the two of them set off.

“Oh, shut up! I won’t” Jan fires back. “We’ll see you at home.”

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

“How is it going?” Rosé asks as she steps through the front door, seeing her sister in the lounge.

“She’s asleep” Jan speaks quietly as she gets up, leaving Denali alone on the couch.

Rosé’s eyes widen a little as she slows her movements to make them quieter, shutting the door silently behind her.

“She passed out after she told me everything. So, I just thought I’d leave her” Jan says lowly.

Rosé nods as she heads toward the kitchen.

“I just don’t know what to do” Jan follows behind her.

“Wouldn’t know either” Rosé flicks her hands up with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Well, that’s not helpful” Jan says dryly.

“Never said it was going to be” Rosé reflects back as she pulls a couple of spoons out from a draw. “Just be there for her, like she was for you when you came out to mum.”

“I was going to do that anyway.”

“Then nothing has to change” Rosé shrugs as she turns to lean against the bench.

“I just feel like there should be more that I can do.”

“Just listen to what she has to say. There’s only so much that you can do” Rosé points out. “It’s not like you can fix her relationship with her parents.”

“I guess not” Jan admits defeat.

“But, if you’re really desperate” Rosé introduces as she pushes herself off from the bench, “you can make an important decision.”

“How important?” Jan asks cautiously.

“Life and death, Jan. Life and death” Rosé kids as she opens her bag to pull out three pots of ice cream. “What one is Denali going to like the most?”

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

“Denali?”

She wakes up to Rosé whispering her name, crouched in front of her on the couch.

“Hey” Rosé smiles when she sees that she’s awake. “Jan’s gone upstairs to get blankets and then we’re going to stick on a movie, if you want to watch” she says as she sits back on her heels.

Denali nods as she pushes herself to sit up.

“And I brought you this” Rosé hands her the pot of ice cream that Jan had picked out for her. “It’s cliché, but I was walking past the store and I wanted some, so here we are.”

Denali breathes out a laugh as she takes it from her with a smile of thanks, crossing her legs beneath her.

Rosé smiles back wider as heavy footsteps thunder down the stairs and Jan jumps into the room with a pile of blankets in her arms.

Without a word Jan drops a few on the couch before taking the one she still holds and wraps it around Denali from behind. Letting her arms hug around her for awhile longer as Rosé gets up from the floor, taking a spare blanket from the couch before she sits herself in a chair. Then Jan releases her hold on Denali and hops over the back of the couch, pulling the last blanket around herself.

“Oh, shit!” she says, suddenly standing back up again. “I left my ice cream in the kitchen.”

Rosé chuckles softly at her sister’s forgetfulness as she pulls her legs up on the chair.

Denali looks down at her own ice cream in her hands. “Rosé?”

“Hmm?” she hums, looking over to her attentively.

“Thank you.”

#rpdr fanfiction #denali #rosé #jan #jan sport #rosénali #rosenali

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you-can-call-me-wanda · 4 years ago

Text

Saying Goodbye

Pairing: Izzy Stradlin x Reader (Requested)

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy! This is my first ever Guns N Roses imagine!

“Hey (Y/N), you coming to the party?”

You looked up from what you were doing to meet the gaze of your coworker, Chase. He stood across from you, wrapping up cables and sorting them before putting them away. He looked at you expectantly.

“Is there a party tonight?” you asked him. As a roadie, you weren’t commonly invited to parties. Sure, the road crew hung out after shows quite often, but those weren’t official hang outs really.

Chase chuckled. “Yeah, everyone’s headed over to some bar after we finish packing up the gear,” he said.

“Who’s everyone?” you asked.

“Everyone,” Chase said. He looked around and lowered his voice dramatically. “I think even Axl is gonna be there.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, thinking about whether you felt up to go out tonight. The party sounded intriguing, but you still had quite a bit of work to do before you’d be able to leave. It was rare that the members of Guns N Roses would be attending the same “party” as the rest of the crew. They were rising to fame, you were not. However, it wasn’t like you knew any of them very well, so it really didn’t matter too much that they were going to be joining everybody at the bar. Not to mention the fact that you were pretty shy and large social gatherings intimidated you greatly.

“I think I’ll probably just skip it,” you decided after thinking it through. “I’m pretty beat from the past couple of shows.” Guns N Roses had just played three nights in a row and you were tired from the constant rigging and unrigging of lights.

“Aw,” Chase said with a frown. “Well, if you change your mind, feel free to find me.” He finished packing up his box of cables and made his way down the hall, presumably to the buses outside.

You just sighed as you continued to work at dismantling some stupid light for travel.

You found yourself meandering through the hotel after you finally finished up your work for the night. It seemed like everyone else had gone over to the bar already, so you were on your own for the night though you didn’t mind too much. You figured you’d head outside for a breath of fresh air and maybe a quick smoke before going to bed early.

As you made your way through the lobby though, you quite literally bumped into someone.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” you said, gasping as your body collided with another. You looked up and were slightly mortified to see none other than Izzy Stradlin standing in front of you.

“It’s okay,” he said, giving you an awkward smile. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Neither was I,” you confessed, returning the smile.

You both stood there for an uncomfortable moment filled with silence.

“Um, your name’s (Y/N), right?” Izzy asked, reaching up to scratch the back of his head.

“Yeah,” you answered, surprised that he knew who you were. “And you’re Izzy,” you added, kicking yourself after saying so. Obviously, he was Izzy. He was part of Guns N Roses for fucks sake!

Izzy laughed a little at that. “Yeah. You’re not out with the rest of the crew tonight?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Nah,” you replied. “Not really my scene.”

“Me neither,” Izzy surprised you by saying. “I’m not a huge party kind of guy.”

“Really?” you couldn’t help but ask. You had assumed Izzy went out with the band all the time.

He shrugged. “It’s not so fun when everyone knows who you are.”

“Oh,” you answered, not really sure what to say. “Well, I’m just going out for a smoke,” you said, beginning to move past him.

“You mind if I join you?” he asked. Truth be told, he had just come back inside from a smoke outside, but you didn’t need to know that. He found you interesting and wanted to stay in your company for a little bit longer.

You surprised yourself by nodding. “Okay,” you said.

The two of you made your way outside and to the side of the hotel building. There, you stood, leaned against the brick wall. Izzy lit yours and his cigarette with his lighter and the two of you smoked together in the quiet darkness.

After some time had passed and both of your cigarettes were down to the filter, Izzy spoke again.

“This is nice,” he mumbled, stamping out the cigarette but on the pavement. “It’s nice to have some quiet, y’know?”

You nodded in agreement. “Yeah, don’t get too much of that on this tour,” you said.

“Tell me about it,” Izzy responded. “I think you and I are the only people who know how to stop talking.”

You blushed slightly at his comment. This was your first time ever talking to Izzy and he was already grouping you and him together as the quiet ones.

“Well,” you said, gathering up some courage, “if you ever need some quiet company, just come and find me.”

That’s exactly what Izzy did.

In the following weeks, you and Izzy became fast friends. He would find you during the day, setting up for the show, and promptly drag you away from your work to go grab lunch with him. After his concerts, you would rush to finish packing up so you could go back to the tour bus or the hotel and find Izzy.

You and he were often left to do your own thing. So, while the rest of the band or crew would go clubbing or bar hopping, you and Izzy would go sightseeing or out for a meal. The tour took you all across the United States and the two of you spent your shared free time exploring all the new sights and attractions each city brought.

Of course, your favorite part of all this was getting to spend time with Izzy. He was quickly becoming one of your best friends and sometimes you would even catch yourself thinking of him as something more.

The feelings were requited. Izzy felt like he had found his other half in you. Someone who was more laidback and quieter like him, but also someone he felt he could talk to for hours on end.

The North American leg of the tour was quickly drawing to an end though and both of you were nervous for what the future had in store for your relationship. While you would like nothing more than to continue travelling with Guns N Roses as part of their crew, your contract would be ending with this part of the tour. You would be headed back home to your normal life and Izzy would be going to Europe.

Being a roadie had been a bit of a last-minute decision. You’d been in need for a paycheck and a friend of yours had known a guy who was able to get you this gig. It was kind of amazing actually that you were able to be part of such a big tour, but they had been pretty desperate for another set of hands that could start right away so you were hired. In your mind, this had always been a temporary position. You always knew you would return home and work towards finding a career that was more stable and didn’t take you so far from home for so long.

Izzy knew of your plans too. You had told him weeks ago, but knowing you were going to be leaving him ahead of time did nothing to ease the pain of knowing that he would be without you once again.

So, neither of you said anything about your feelings and instead chose to pretend like the end wasn’t coming.

It was at the airport where everything finally came out.

You weren’t even needed there but Izzy had insisted you come with him for a last goodbye. During the drive over, he slipped his hand into yours and gave it a tight squeeze. No words needed to be spoken for you to understand what he was trying to say. You squeezed his hand in return and rested your head on his shoulder. Out of the corner of your eyes, you watched the world quickly pass by through the window. You found yourself wishing time would just slow down.

When you got to the airport, most of the crew was tasked with unloading all the equipment and taking it to where it needed to be checked in. You made your way inside with Izzy and the rest of the band though, your job already over.

Izzy was still holding your hand as you walked in. He slowed his pace, letting the rest of his band pass the two of you by, so you and he could have a moment alone to say your goodbyes.

“You could come with us,” Izzy proposed, knowing entirely that you would reject the idea.

“Izzy,” you sighed, tears welling up in your eyes, “My whole life is here. My family, my friends- all of that is here.” You blinked your eyes shut tightly, trying to stop the tears from falling.

Izzy reached up to gently wipe away a stray tear that had managed to cascade down your cheek. He continued to cradle your cheek after drying your face.

“I know,” he said. His voice with tight with emotion.

You forced a smile onto your face. “Guns N Roses is going places, Izzy. You’re going to be flying all around the world, touring, and recording albums, and constantly moving. We’d be living in different worlds.”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” he said softly. “I get it. Can you just promise me one thing?”

“What’s that?” you asked.

“Promise me you’ll always remember that I love you,” he said.

You pulled him into a passionate kiss the second the words left his mouth. Waves of emotion wracked through your body as your lips met his. It would have been the perfect kiss if you hadn’t known it would be your last shared with him.

“I promise,” you whispered, pulling away from him.

Izzy just nodded, not trusting himself to say much more without breaking down. He planted a small kiss to your forehead before taking a step back from you and picking up his suitcase.

“I guess this is goodbye,” he said, his own eyes now watery.

“I guess so,” you agreed. “Goodbye Izzy.”

“Goodbye (Y/N).”

All you could do was watch as Izzy turned away from you and made his way over to the rest of the band and the crew members that would be accompanying them on the next leg of their tour. Upon his arrival, Axl threw an arm around Izzy’s shoulders and threw a glance back at you. You paid him no mind though, too focused on Izzy’s retreating figure. You stood frozen in place as you watched them make their way together over to the terminal and eventually out of sight.

When he was gone, you tentatively raised your hand to your lips, remembering how his lips had felt against yours and heartbroken that you would never know the sensation again.

#izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin imagine #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses imagine #wanda writes

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kannra21 · 4 years ago

Text

Nah don't listen to antis, Dabi would treat you right. He'd stay the same serial killer with abandonment issues and existential crisis except you'd be the only positive thing that's making his life better.

And before anyone gets to differ no, he wouldn't treat his s/o the same way Endeavor treated Rei. It's true that he inherited some characteristics from Endeavor but it's different; Endeavor wanted a Quirk marriage and his motivations were entirely self-centered whilst Dabi would accept someone who can understand him and feel w him. Dabi never got this kind of support before and he could use someone who's rly persistent and dedicated.

Dabi is canonicaly v cynical and doesn't trust ppl easily so you can prepare yourself for lots of rejections and avoidance coming from his side. That's why he needs someone who's emotionally strong and independent. If you're super clingy and impatient with him then this won't last long. Sudden acts of kindness will freak him out as well bc they're forced. You need to let it flow naturally.

He's a simple guy and doesn't like to owe anyone so if he needs assistance and you help him he'll pay you back. If he realizes that he can depend on you and trust you he'll calm down. If he comments on his pain and you offer to make it better idk massage him for instance then he'll get you dinner or whatever. That's just the way he is and he feels weird that anyone ever offered him some kind of help. He won't be too obv ab it but he'll appreciate it v much. You guys would start going out and talk ab random things, your stupid sense of humor makes him laugh but then it hits him that he couldn't remember the last time he laughed this much and he's in awe. You rly are something else.

The first time he opens up to you he'll cry bloody tears bc he never got to share his story with anyone. He completely isolated himself from the league and only appears when he's needed but most of the time he's left by himself and his own thoughts. He likes solitude but sometimes it becomes too much, he starts feeling many things at once and there's no one with whom he could share it. Sometimes it drives him insane but now that you're here he feels OK.

He'd wonder why you're even hanging around or what you can gain from someone this broken but you tell him that there's no one you'd rather be with or kiss him and he'll totally give in. 🥰

Since then he'll be more responsible for his health so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable with his burnt skin, the smell in particular. He can be so reckless at times but now that he has someone whom he can hold closer, he needs to take care of such things. You find out that he's a secret cuddler and he's acting different from when you're with the league. He's possessive and angry at Shigaraki for flirting with you to mess with him and although you get where Shig's at and honestly it's funny to a certain extent but Dabi would still be upset. Even if it's through a joke he doesn't like the idea of someone taking you away from him. You're his emotional support doll and now that he grew keen on you he doesn't plan on letting go.

The thing is, he never rly liked the idea of bonding with someone bc it meant more trouble than not. He's a villain and his life is dangerous, therefore whoever gets associated with him would only suffer. Heck he never befriended anyone after he left his home, he's refusing getting closer to the league bc his focus was entirely set on ruining Endeavor. Getting to know them wouldn't bring him any good, they're all meant to die anyways. That's what he thought, but Twice refused to leave him alone no matter how distant he could be and now he's regretting to even care ab this guy. He's glad that he burned Hawks, he'd do it all over again.

The more you listened to him you'll notice his caring and thoughtful side. Your only respond that it's true that villains are met with misfortune most of the time but it doesn't need to be that way. You're not afraid of the loss bc as long as you two are fighting together side by side nothing can bring you apart. And you couldn't give a fuck ab consequences bc he's worth it. He'll hug you and kiss your pretty head bc he's so amazed by your positivity. He doesn't deserve you, he doesn't want to lose you, you can notice a stray bloody tear rolling down his face and he apologizes bc it's disgusting but you kiss him to shut those stupid thoughts messing with his head. He's sad that his nerves are completely damaged, he wished to feel you more but thankfully you knew exactly where to touch and he thought that he'd never feel goosebumps again but you made it happen. He could feel things he thought he couldn't and God what he wouldn't do for you.

No rly he'd literally do anything for you, league is teasing him that he's following you around like a lost puppy but he couldn't care less. He thinks that they're just jealous bc they don't have someone as amazing as you. So much for the teasing, he got his revenge by not letting the league sleep the next night.

Tbh he wants to have similar effect on you as much as you have on him bc he'll never not be grateful for all the things that you've done for him. He's still some broken individual but at least he doesn't need to fight alone.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #thoughts #dabi #todoroki touya #hc #headcanons

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imaginejamesandsirius · 4 years ago

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Uhm, I what if James and Sirius were Harry's parents and he came to them with a baby, he came together with Viktor Krum who was the baby's other dad and they of course get the shock of their lives as they thought Harry was away for his work as a cursebreaker in Bulgaria. I just wanted to see more of this Harry/Viktor pairing.

"Hullo Pop," Harry said with a bright smile when the door opened.

Sirius blinked. "Whose baby is that?"

"Well that did not take long," said the man that was standing next to him. He looked a lot like Viktor Krum, the seeker for Bulgaria's national team.

Then Sirius realised that it must be Viktor Krum, because what were the chances that Harry had been living in Bulgaria and had met someone that looked just like him? More to the point, why was he here? Harry had gone to Bulgaria to work as a curse breaker, not to meet famous Quidditch players and carry babies. Which, back to that. "Haz? The baby?"

"Ah. Yes. Erm." He shifted his weight, and that was when Sirius saw that the baby was perfectly content in his arms. Babies did that thing when they were handed to a stranger and they looked uncomfortable. This baby wasn't doing that.

"You know, most sons have a bit of warning before the baby's born," Sirius noted, staring down at the chubby little face. It felt like just a couple years ago that Harry was the one looking like that. "Like, nine months or so." That was when Sirius realised-- lots of realisations in a very small amount of time, he was going to get burnt out at this rate-- that he should invite them in, because this wasn't a conversation he was keen on having on the doorstep. In his defense, when he'd opened the door, he'd been expecting to see his son looking a little tired from the trip, and with a bag slung over his shoulder. He hadn't been prepared for the extra bag for the baby, the baby itself, or the other man standing next to him. He stepped back, waving them in. "You have to tell Dad," Sirius said. He wasn't going to tell James, especially since Harry hadn't even told him about the baby in the first place, he'd just shown up. "Nice to meet you," Sirius said, nodding pleasantly at Viktor. Viktor... had to be the other parent. Wow. When Harry wanted to surprise them, he went all out.

Harry toed off his shoes and took off his bags, having to shift the baby between his arms as he did so. Viktor, being the good other parent that he apparently was (and also possibly a good husband?), offered to help, but Harry just shook his head. He was able to do the maneuver with enough ease that it was obvious he'd done it before. After that, he walked to the living room, calling, "Dad?"

James came down from the stairs, grinning widely. "Haz." He walked up to him and gave him a hug. It was only when he pulled back that he looked confused. "Is that a baby? Whose baby is that? Wait, is that yours? Since when do you have a baby?"

"Since about three months ago," Harry said. It was obvious that he was nervous, but it was no surprise that James was too confused to notice. He glanced at Sirius, who shrugged helplessly, conveying that this was news to him as well.

"We've gotten letters from you in that time," James said, looking back to their son. "You never mentioned this."

"It all happened so fast."

"Your eight to ten month pregnancy happened fast?" Sirius asked. "We're not- we're not judging you, Harry. You know we support you, but we would've appreciated being told about this sooner."

"I'm afraid that is my fault," Viktor said. He was a soft spoken man, which Sirius kind of hadn't expected. Not because of his Quidditch fame, but because of his relationship with Harry. The people he'd dated in the past had fit right in at their house. "Because of my fame, my post is not secure. Harry was staying with me, so there was no way of safely sending a message."

And it went without saying that Harry hadn't been able to leave, himself. "I understand that, but I'm afraid I still don't understand the months leading up to that where you couldn't tell us," Sirius said. Then, realising how severe that sounded, he shook his head and smiled. "Sorry. There's normal surprises, and then there's this. We're happy you're here."

"Very happy," James added. "Do I get to hold my grandchild or is that reserved for another special occasion?"

Harry rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "I suppose." He passed over the baby carefully, and James cradled it in his arms, looking down fondly.

"So what happened with cursebreaking?" Sirius asked. He walked over to James's side and peered at the little face that was at least fifty percent cheek.

"Erm." Harry started to blush, and his eyes darted over to Viktor. "I- I wasn't actually a cursebreaker. I'd been exchanging letters with Viktor, and I moved there to meet him. I knew you wouldn't approve, so I didn't tell you."

"Ah. And that would also be the reason you didn't tell us about the pregnancy when you found out, because then you'd have to admit to the rest of it," Sirius said.

He nodded sheepishly.

"We raised an absolute mess of a child," Sirius said, when the door was locked and they were getting ready for bed. "You know I love Harry, but... Merlin, he wasn't thinking at all, was he?"

"Oh he was thinking alright, he just wasn't being very smart about it," James said.

"I can't believe he went off to Bulgaria to meet a man he'd never exchanged a face-to-face conversation with. And to not even tell us about it? We were nervous enough when he said he was moving there for a job, but-"

"He's in love," James said softly.

Sirius turned to look at him incredulously, but he paused when he saw the look on James's face: soft, content, and completely free of judgement.

"Us Potter's have always been rather stupid when it comes to love. I'm sure you can remember."

"I do. I suppose I just hoped that Harry would gain some of my trepidation."

"As far as he's concerned, you've never hesitated a day in your life."

"I guess that's true. He probably thinks I'm as hotheaded as he is."

"You are," James said with a smirk. "Just not in love. Or at least, you didn't used to be."

"I've got no need to be reserved anymore, do I? I have you."

"And you're stuck with me," James said.

"Stop distracting me from my point."

"You have a point?"

"I- I guess not," Sirius said with a grimace, sitting heavily on the bed. "After all, there's nothing we can do about it. It's all in the past. Harry already went to Bulgaria to meet him. He already fell in love and had a baby-- and she's a cute little thing, isn't she?"

"Absolutely adorable."

Sirius nodded, then sighed. "There's no use getting upset about it, especially when it worked out. You can tell that Viktor loves him too. I just wish he'd have told us about all of this. We're not that bad, are we? I've always wanted him to be able to trust us with the details of his life, but he... doesn't."

"He tells us most things," James said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Does he? How would we know?"

Seeing that his husband was truly upset, he moved to hug him from behind. "If it bothers you this much, you'll have to talk to him about it. He knows that it was a big secret; he'll be willing to talk to you."

Sirius opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Clearly it's not nothing," James said.

He sighed, leaning back into James's touch. "I know that it's not right, but every time I have problems with Harry, I feel like he doesn't think of me as his father."

James didn't say anything because he knew that Sirius wasn't done yet.

"Like maybe," Sirius continued, "if I were Lily, he'd talk to me more."

"As the one blood related to him, you know that's not true. He doesn't talk to me anymore than he talks to you. And he wouldn't have told Lily, if she were here. He wanted to keep it to himself, and there's nothing we could do to change his mind."

"...I guess."

"No offense, but you know I'm right." James turned his head and pressed a kiss to Sirius's cheek. "You just don't like feeling helpless, and so much of raising Harry was feeling helpless. It's still like that, even though he moved out and grew up."

"He doesn't look grown up," Sirius muttered.

"I know. I swear, all day today, I kept looking at him and feeling like he was fifteen. I kept wanting to ask him whose baby he stole and why he was with someone so much older than him." James chuckled, kissing Sirius again. "I'm not happy about him lying to us about being a cursebreaker either, and we can talk to him about that more tomorrow-- or maybe the day after-- but I think we should just... get to know Viktor better. He's part of this family, now."

"You're right. I know you're right. I just wish he'd told us." Sirius took a deep breath in, released it slowly, then turned his head to smile at James. "I love you. And I love Harry, no matter how much his decisions annoy me at times."

James laughed. "I love you, and our slightly annoying son, too. Don't forget, we've got a new baby to familiarize ourselves with."

"Mm, babies. So warm and cuddly."

"As long as they're not yours," James joked.

"Harry was pretty warm and cuddly when he was that young."

"True, but I don't miss the screaming."

Sirius made a face and glanced at their door. "D'you think we should put a silencing spell up?"

"Up to you."

He thought about it, then said, "Nah. I wouldn't feel right about it."

James hummed, like that was the answer he'd expected, and kissed him. "Let's get to sleep. I'm sure we'll need it."

#prongsfoot #fanfic #marauders #james potter #sirius black #harry potter #viktor krum #viktor krum/harry potter #established relationship #married #no voldemort au #post hogwarts #siriuslystarbucks #zyler-greedy69

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3pirouette · 3 years ago

Text

Fic: The Honey Trap (3/?)

Title: The Honey Trap

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: Peggy’d lost count. She wasn’t sure if she was a double or triple agent at this point, and in the end, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting out of this alive.

A/N: While I'd hoped to keep up the updates every week, RL is not cooperating. I'm still going to update as often as I can, and the story's not abandoned. Just going to be a little slower than expected. This chapter is a direct continuation from the last.

~*~

Peggy was aghast.

She’d made a loop around the commissary, stopped at the supply tent, chatted with a nurse, all the while very carefully being very, very obvious that she’d been following Steve as he moved about camp. And she was absolutely not careful when she slipped into his tent in full view of half a platoon ten minutes ago.

Peggy sat next to him on his cot, quiet. Steve couldn’t help but fidget, turning the compass over and over in his hands. “I guess it’ll…”

“They’re morons, all of them.” Peggy said loudly and suddenly. She turned to Steve, eyes bright. “I never would have pegged them for that, but goodness. The lot of them!”

“What do you mean?” Steve pocketed the compass, turning to her.

“Well, had I known how easy it would be to slip into your tent without anyone raising the alarm I certainly would have done it before this.” She laughed and turned to him, playing with the collar of his shirt. “And I certainly would have done it quite often.”

A blush crept up his cheeks as his hands fluttered around her hips. “Peg, we shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what?” She refused to be chastised and leaned forward to kiss him quickly. “In a matter of days, I’ll be back in London and you’ll be god knows where and we’re going to have to pretend this is all real. Who knows when we’re likely to see one another again?” She kissed him again, softer this time, and his hands wrapped firm around her. “Besides, if those lunks out there are stupid enough to miss me walking in here with you—”

“Maybe they’re smart enough to keep their mouths shut,” Steve rebutted as he gave in and kissed down her neck.

“In either event,” she lifted his face to look in his eyes again, “we should be smart enough to take advantage.”

~*~

It was Bucky, surprisingly, that was waiting for her when she emerged from Steve’s tent. He stepped out from the space between the canvas two tents down and fell into step with her, eyes dark and hands in his pockets.

She and Steve hadn’t actually talked about what he might tell his best friend, because in theory he couldn’t tell anyone anything. Neither of them could. She kept moving, Barnes keeping pace with her, until she’d managed a loop of almost the entire base without shaking her silent shadow. Finally, she walked out past the mess, stopping only when they were afforded at least some privacy.

“Well?” She finally asked, eyeing him and crossing her arms smartly.

Bucky shuffled his feet then looked up at her, face tight. “What kinda game are you playing?”

“Game?” she asked, incredulous. If anyone should have known just how real their feeling were, it should have been Bucky.

He shook his head and looked away. “The idiot’s head over heels for ya. You have to know that.” He looked at the ground and huffed a heavy sigh. He was caught between anger and disappointment when he looked back up at her. “You start breaking regs, he’s gonna follow right behind and one of you is gonna get hurt. Or worse: court martialed.”

Peggy started to reply, but he held his hand up. “Nah- I don’t… I don’t want to hear it. I’m happy for him. For you. And if this was any other place or time, I’d be shoving the two of you together like ya wouldn’t believe.” He shook his head sadly. “We’ll cover for you two as long as we can, but you know just as well as I do that Phillips and the rest of those higher ups can only turn a blind eye for so long.”

Bucky leaned down, as he started to move away. “Please don’t mess with him, Peg. You might be strong enough for it, but he’s still that 98-pound dumb struck kid inside that shell.”

All the bravado she’d felt at sneaking into Steve’s tent left her as Bucky walked away. Her stomach sank, heavy with the thought that Steve had the very real potential to be hurt in all this. Being undercover was never easy, especially when it meant faking relationships or allegiances, but Steve would be very aware of her playing house with another man, of her pledging her loyalty to the very organization he was laying his life on the line to fight.

She knew, when this was all over, she was going to have to mend some fences with some friends she would have to deceive, the Howlies high on that list. She just hadn’t considered, until this moment, that she might have to fight to regain Steve’s trust, as well.

She’d never even thought until now that she might lose it.

~*~

The idea that she’d be hurting Steve kept her up all night, tossing and turning in her bed. She thought about getting up, slipping out and sliding into his tent under the cover of darkness, but Bucky’s words, his face, were caught on a loop in her brain.

Being caught would fuel the fire. But up until now they’d been very careful about their relationship, about finding very private moments to share a kiss or an embrace. Steve had fairly romantic, if somewhat conservative, views about how she should be treated before they could be even publicly dating, and she’d done her best to respect that.

She’d never wanted to hurt him.

Steve seemed so strong. So confident. Even when she first met him, there was a strength to him that transcended his small body.

Somehow, she always imagined he’d end up hurting her. She dreamt of him walking away, one of the showgirls from the USO on his arm, or leaving because she wanted a career and not to be home taking care of kids. She had nightmares of him laughing at the end of the war, walking away with gaggles of fans under each arm once he realized he could have his pick of the bunch as Captain America. Peggy heard the words of other men come out of his mouth in her darkest moments, men from her past that called her names she didn’t like to repeat in polite company.

Somehow, she always imagined she’d be the one left behind when he realized all the doors his transformation would open up to him.

Peggy waited until sun up and slipped out to the mess, eating but not tasting her ration before she went to find him. She caught him just as he was leaving his tent, and with the tip of her head, he followed her.

“Morning…” he started cautiously, seeing how wound up she was. “Newsreel guys will be here any minute, so—"

She cut him off. “I didn’t sleep at all last night and it was Barnes’ fault.”

Steve watched the nervous energy pour from her in the way her fingers kept fidgeting at her sides, the way her breath came just a little faster. He shook his head and huffed a frustrated sigh. “What did he say?”

She thought about lying, turning right around, and not having this conversation. She shook her head, stepping just a little closer to whisper. “He made me realize how hard this is going to be on you.”

“Peg—”

“No,” she stopped his interruption, taking his hand. “You’re going to have to see me lie, you’re going to see me pretend to love another man and pretend to fight for an ideology that would have the world burn around us.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she held his hand tight. “I know it won’t be easy for me,” she finally looked up at him, “but until yesterday I hadn’t thought about how it might be for you.”

She stepped closer, taking both hands and framing his face gently, looking deep into his eyes. He held her gaze, never wavering, as she spoke. “I need you to know I love you. I love you, my darling, and no matter what I say, or what I have to do out there, or how long we’re apart, that will not change.” She took a slow, deep breath. “I don’t expect it should be easy when it’s all said and done, but…”

He smiled as she stuttered and wrapped his hands around her cheeks, eyes bright. “I love you, too, Peg.” He smirked when the anxiety left her and relief flooded her body at his words. “I know it’s going to be hard, being apart, but that won’t change for me, either. We’re going to make it through all of this, somehow. And I’ll see you soon. As soon as I can, first chance they’ll let me, ok?”

He leaned down, kissing her gently, and though Peggy felt a lot better, she still felt the tiny stirrings of fear and guilt. “Somehow,” she whispered.

~*~

He held her hand tight as they stepped through the low brush, moving to the tiny outcropping of trees they’d claimed as their own since they’d been at this base as the sun set low.

It was ridiculously easy to get the compass in front of the cameras. The newsreel team, knowing they had a great piece of gossip on their hands, made an effort to keep Phillips as preoccupied as possible when that little bit of footage came up, making it easy for Phillips to “miss” it as he approved the footage.

Meanwhile, Steve and Peggy snuck in as many moments alone together as they could in the last few days, knowing indulging would help their case in the long run. Peggy never mentioned to Steve that it helped soothe her fear that when all of this was over, she’ll have lost him.

Steve leaned back against a large pine, pulling her into his arms. “How long do you think we have?”

“Sixteen minutes before the next patrol,” Peggy answered as she kissed him, fingers running through his hair, “give or take.”

“I meant,” he lifted her from her feet with a smile and let her wrap her legs around his hips as he turned, pressing her back up against the tree, “how long do you think we have before they transfer you?”

Peggy hummed as he started kissing across her collar bone. “A day, maybe two at the most. I think they start showing it tonight in London.”

“I still don’t like this,” he muttered, pausing his kisses and nuzzling into her neck. “The idea of you out there, with Hydra…”

Peggy pressed him back. “I’ll have you know I was fighting Hydra long before you came along—”

“I know.”

“—and I can take care of myself.”

He was chastised, but looked at her earnestly. “You’re right. I’m being—”

“Chauvinistic?” She quirked her eyebrow at him and shook her head. “Overprotective? Pigheaded?” She shook her head, sighing as her temper softened. “It’s all dangerous, Steve.”

He moved a hand to cup her cheek, drawing his thumb up over her cheek. “I still have a way with words, huh?”

She smiled at that. “You still talk to me about as well as you did that day in the car.” She pecked a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Lucky you, I find that endearing.”

He returned the gesture. “Lucky me, indeed.”

“Come along, then,” Peggy gave a gentle tug to his head, angling him back to her neck. “We’ve got to make the most of what we have left, and I estimate we’re down to fifteen minutes.”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

~*~

“This is it.” Phillips was calm, just the way he always was before he sent his troops into battle. Peggy found it reassuring and frightening at the same time. “If you have any doubts, I need to hear them right now.”

Peggy looked at Steve, his blue eyes pleading for her to call it, for her to stop this whole thing. But she knew he understood, just as she did, that despite the risks, there could be a greater reward.

“No doubts.” She stood tall, shoulders back. She knew this was going to hurt, no matter how fake it was.

“Son?” Phillips looked at Steve, eyes just as steeled.

“None, sir.” Steve shook his head and handed over his compass.

The speed with which Phillips changed gears and started yelling startled them both. They all knew it had to be a show, and had to be believable, but Steve was unprepared for the way Phillips let fly, and for how loud he was.

The Colonel, as ever, had known what he was doing. Within seconds, Steve could see little eyes and ears at the edges of the tent where the flaps didn’t quite close, hoping to get just a snippet or two of what the man was saying.

Peggy bit her lip, listening as Phillips let loose words and accusations he’d never used with her, but had always been quick to the lips of other men around female officers.

Neither was ready for the way Phillips took the compass and threw it like a fast ball out of the tent and into the mud.

“What, Carter?” he asked harshly, his voice still booming. “You gonna cry now?”

Her lip quivered. She wanted to. And she could see standing as close to him as she was, that in his eyes, Phillips regretted everything he was saying. “No.”

“No, what?” He let loose.

“No, sir!” She fairly yelled back, a tear slipping from her eye.

At that he winced. He stepped back, took a deep breath, and pressed on. “And you, Rogers.”

Steve said nothing, just swallowed heavily.

“I never expected anything out of you in the first place. How nice of you to not disappoint.” Steve hung his head, the words cutting deep. “Latrines. Now. You’re digging and cleaning them until you hear otherwise from me, got that?”

“Yes, sir.” Steve parroted back, his voice loud but broken.

“Just because you look good in tights doesn’t mean you’re worth more than shit around here.” Phillips shook his head, lips pressed tight. “And you.”

“Latrines as well, sir?” Peggy asked, trying to sure up her voice the best she could.

“You think I’m a damn fool who was born yesterday?” He shook his head, hands on his hips, the steam rolling out of him. “Go pack your things. You’re on a transport in one hour. Because you’re a lady you get a nice, cushy, office job back in London. I’m sure the typing pool will benefit greatly.”

Phillips’ head fell, he couldn’t look at either of them. “Well, what are you waiting for?” He bellowed. “Go!”

Steve pretended not to see the men scurry away from the tent as he exited. He couldn’t help but look at Peggy as she followed him out. Her eyes were full of tears he knew she would try desperately to keep from falling.

Peggy stopped, crouching in the mud to pick up his compass. She pulled out a handkerchief from her back pocket, cleaning it the best she could before she handed it to him, avoiding his eyes and using the cleaning an excuse to get her emotions back under control.

Steve stuttered, unsure of what to say. Phillips had cut them both to the quick, even if it was for show. “You, uh… you want help with your trunks?”

“I can manage,” she whispered, eyes still on the handkerchief in her hands.

Steve shoved the compass in his pocket, looking around. The men who had been listening at the tent had scattered and they were, by all appearances, alone. Not that it mattered anymore. For better or worse, for real or for cover story, they were no longer a secret. “Peg,” he pleaded, taking her hands in his, “look at me.”

She huffed out a breath and looked up. “Harder than I thought.” She nodded quickly. “I’ve... I have to…” She tilted her head towards her tent. “Soon,” she whispered, leaning into him. “Somehow.”

“Somehow,” he parroted back. He wanted to kiss her, but knew he couldn’t. There was just one piece left of the puzzle. He took a deep breath. “Hard as you can, ok?” His whisper was as quiet as he could make it. “Don’t hold back.”

Peggy steeled herself, taking short deep breaths. She pushed away, hurt that was real for the both of them written plainly across her face. “This is all your fault, Steve Rogers!” With a cry she wound up and slapped him, hard, across the jaw.

Steve cradled his cheek as she turned, stomping away.

He hated that this was going to be his last memory of her for a long time. He just kept telling himself that he’d see her soon. Soon.

Bucky stepped up next to him, slinging his arm around his shoulder. “What the hell happened, Steve?”

Steve just shook his head. “Hell if I know.”

“Come on,” Bucky turned him around. “We can go get some wax or something to stick in your nose so that super soldier sniffer of yours doesn’t lay you out in the latrines while you tell me all about it.”

#Steggy #Steggy Bingo Bash #3P's Fic #The Honey Trap #Steggy Fic

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