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briarborealisocs · 1 year ago

Note

INAUGURAL POST! i have more ocs and more stories than this but these are the main ones For Now

tell me about your favorite characters (or ocs if you’d like) 👀👀👀

this post is going to be long so: oc info under the cut! i guess this is a good time to tell anyone who doesnt know me from other sites that i have a bunch of various ocs in my brain always. fun fact: originally this blog was going to be my art and oc blog! hence: briarborealisart. unfortunately the allure of fandom reblogs Got Me and now my blog is a deeply disorganized folder of Interests rather than me putting anything of my own out there LOL. maybe i should make an oc sideblog or smth but i feel like i wouldnt keep up with it </3

OK SO I HAVE A NUMBER OF OCS FROM DIFFERENT WORLDS. i'll go in order of world age (mostly---i don't remember the exact chronology) and stick to my main oca. anyone who i tag as a collaborator/co-author also has ocs that interact with mine and did a great amount of the worldbuilding and u should check them out hehehehe!!

WHOOPSVERSE

whoopsverse is a world jointly created by some friends and i (@natyune-art, @catatonickeeper and alythea). it's an epic fantasy and it is also falling apart actively lore-wise because we all became Adults With Jobs who had some creative differences regarding what we wanted for the roleplay SO its kind of a free for all rn. BUT IT IS SO DEAR TO ME. it started out as an offshoot of the google plus roleplay community World of Alengra by derbybubblefish but it quickly became its own thing. i technically have a billion and a half ocs from this world but most of them are defunct/shelved for now (read: dead)

my two most active ocs from whoopsverse are vas and kiska

vasushri jilpa nuriya, aka vas, is a mortal girl who keeps getting reincarnated with the same voidkin attached to her soul. voidkin are minor gods who are born from the void, a nebulous sea of chaos. they are goopy fellas and can latch onto mortal souls to give them innate void magic. void magic involves portaling, hammerspace, and in rare occasions, shapeshifting into a voidkin. vas has the rare shapeshifting bond.

kiska, aka the godkiller, aka tempest, is a once-mortal woman, now immortal, who is blessed by the death god with immortality and great power. in return, she is to wander the earth exterminating rogue immortals. she's like a very specialized grim reaper.

kiska frequently runs into vas in her many incarnations and adopts her.

PROJECT STARSTRUCK

@ask-projectstarstruck (mine and @doeblossom 's poor abandoned baby) is an ask blog set in a world much like our own, except that magic exists! it takes place in a fictional college and follows two (or three? 👀) students. blog spoilers to follow!! (also, the concept existed before and continues to exist outside of the ask blog, lol). MY two (most active) ocs in there are austral and boreal

austral lucis is a college student at the university of lenton springs! she's a business major and communications minor who graduated valedictorian of her high school class, and got a full ride scholarship to this ivy league college not too far from her home. she's a huge stick in the mud and very VERY type A. her story revolves around learning how to be her own person instead of doing what everyone expects/wants of her. her college roommate is callista aka elise, @doeblossom 's oc!

boreal lucis is dead. no, really! she's a ghost, and austral's twin sister. through an uncanny twist of fate, or maybe magic, when boreal was stillborn her life force attached to austral, and her ghost grew up with her. austral is the only person who can see her, and ghosts/hauntings aren't really well researched in the world of project starstruck, so... austral has defaulted to pretending she doesn't exist, so that people don't think she's crazy. boreal is a silly goofy guy, because you've got to have some way to entertain yourself when the only other person who knows you exist pretends she doesn't. boreal's story is ALSO about learning to become her own person, but this time a lot more literally.

boreal is very protective of austral, the both of them having grown up with a mother that was very demanding and dismissive of austral's emotional needs. austral would prefer not to talk about it.

SILLY SUPERHERO STORY

THIS ONE IS ALLLLL ME BABEY. i read so much of the Alernate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers tag on ao3 that i haaaaaaaad to make my own. since this is all me i have a bajillion ocs in this world.

here i'll just copy and paste over from my discord (these descriptions might not be super accurate since they were written a long time ago)

ok core cast

19 year old spiderman kinnie mc, a vigilante named leon wright. became a vigilante after his existing powers mysteriously evolved (this Doesn't Happen to other people)

15-16 year old dani wright, leon's little sister, found out leon was a vigilante and promised to snitch on him if he didn't let her join him

17-18 year old stereotypical tech/hacker/guy in the chair guy named mick simmons, technically a supervillain because he keeps committing minor cyberterrorism. his only parent was a supervillain who got arrested when he was like 14. he met leon online after hacking his animal jam account. so far he's the only one whose codename ive made and it's discord

18-20 yo main villain, kammie stoll, a deranged and unhinged cartoonishly evil young woman who leon is a MASSIVE simp for, and she is in love...with DESTRUCTION!!! NYEHEHEH

a registered dad-aged hero, brendan powell, so stressed about the fact that these kids are out here fighting, desperately trying to be a positive role model for/adopt them

a dad-aged villain, grant stoll, kammie's bio dad, they have a great relationship /gen, he is also trying to adopt all the kids because he respects their gusto and thinks they'd be great friends for his daughter

the wright parents, phoebe and cyrus; one of them knows about their kids vigilante stuff, the other is oblivious (havent decided which is which). theyre separated but friendly and have a rivalry going on about who the kids like more

the hero hq secretary, sandra flores, who has a power that "lets her type really fast" but actually its just legitimately a superspeed power and shes so cool and rad. she just lets people think she's Normal

milo pryce, mick and leon's third roommate that they picked up off of craigslist or smth because they couldnt afford an apt on their own salaries. he's pretty normal (or is he?) and just a background civilian (or IS he?) except that he's a doomsday prepper with a serious hoarding problem, but only in his room. very meticulous otherwise

and, of course, the REAL big bad evil guy: clarisse simmons, mick's supervillain mom. she's a very mysterious force for most of the story until the THIRD ACT TURN WHERE ITS REVEALED SHES BEEN THE MASTERMIND THE WHOLE TIME! or... something like that

THE WEAVER'S APPRENTICE

story MAINLY driven by @natyune-art featuring witches, betrayal, and mystery!! my character in there is named dijah

khadijah, aka khadi or dijah, is a witch. in this world, witches can see the strings of fate that surround a person and view, interpret, and/or manipulate those strings. dijah wanders the world as kind of a rogue, wandering from town to town with nothing tying her down anywhere. that is, until she arrives at a town where a string of kidnappings finally catches up to her location. a bartender she made sort-of friends with is the next to go missing, and she immediately decides to start investigating. while she's in town, she also meets auryn, a traveling performer like herself. he's extremely suspicious, but she has no real evidence that he's behind the kidnappings, especially when he agrees to help her with her investigation. drama! intrigue! romance! horror! whimsy! they have it all!!!

THE OWL HOUSE

most recently and most clearly the subject of my brainrot, @doeblossom peer pressured me to make an owl house self insert oc and BOY DID I. ITS SO FUN. in addition to being besties with toh!doe, she ALSO has interactions with @mothsha 's toh oc myrna, and @blimate 's toh oc wynter. her name is sol

solstice finch is a teen prodigy. she graduated hexside at 15 years old under the potion track, and ended up succeeded in the emperor's coven tryouts, which she had entered by accident. she quickly made her way through the coven scout ranks and at 16 is a coven official a la kikimora. she's besties with doe and hunter :) her mentor WAS lilith, but after The Season One Finale... they don't talk for a while haha. I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT HER BUT I'LL KEEP IT BRIEF: sol is THE silliest little guy. she's also basically a cat, we swear. shortly after hollow mind she defects from the coven and that's when she ends up meeting myrna and re-meeting wynter.

AND THATS IT. THATS EVERYONE THAT I CAN BE BOTHERED WITH RN. I FEEL LIKE IM MISSING SOME KEY FELLERS BUT WHAT CAN BE SAID. IM LATE FOR MOVIE NIGHT I JUST CHECKED THE TIME. GOTTA GO!

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zepskies · 2 years ago

Text

Break Me Down - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Surprise Sunday update! I was able to put the finishing touches on Part 2 a bit early. 😉

Song used in this chapter is “If I Didn’t Care” by The Ink Spots (but more like Amy Adams' version). Song inspiration for this chapter (and the song title) is “All My Livin Time” by Radio Company (Jensen’s band with Steve Carlson).

Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: 18+ only! Willful seduction, kidnapping, SB being himself lol.

Part 2: You Move Me, Baby

This next mission was going to be a bit more…hands on.

It was a gentlemen’s club, styled like a 1920s speakeasy, of all things. If nothing else, Soldier Boy was predictable.

Through a crack in the dressing room door, you didn’t see any gentlemen here. You saw a bunch of skeevy bastards.

For the record, you didn’t like this plan. But as Butcher once again pointed out, Soldier Boy’s less likely to fuckin’ recognize you than any of us.

And you certainly couldn’t (wouldn’t) imagine Butcher in rhinestone nipple tassels.

Right now, you were waiting to be assigned an outfit. Hopefully, you could just blend into the background of whatever performance act the stage manager wanted to slip you into. And you really hoped you wouldn’t have to striptease on stage.

In the meantime, you sat on a stool in a black lace bra, matching panties, and sheer pantyhose, while Annie was helping you with your stage makeup. Years as a pageant child had taught her well. You felt like Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality, fending off getting hairspray up her ass.

Sure, you had gone undercover several times, but this was slightly out of your wheelhouse. You bit your lip, forgetting that you were already wearing several coats of scarlet red lipstick.

Annie slapped your hand. “Stop it. You’re smudging my paint job.”

You had Butcher and M.M. to thank for arranging this little detail.

May they both rot in hell, you silently simmered.

“Oh, stop pouting. You look great,” Annie said. You caught the little smirk she was trying to taper down.

Then the manager’s head popped into the dressing room. When he verified that all the young women had at least their underwear on, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

“All right, listen up,” he said in Spanish. You understood just enough to follow what he was saying. “Angelica got food poisoning.”

You grimaced. Angelica was the main act. She had a whole burlesque-style routine with the rest of the women—for which you were meant to step in for one of the girls in the ensemble. Hopefully in the back.

“Daniela, you’re filling in,” said the manager, pointing to a busty brunette.

“What about the second act?” asked another girl. If you remembered right, her name was Raquel. “Dani can’t sing like Angelica to save her fucking life.”

“Excuse me, bitch. I sing better than you,” Daniela snapped back.

The manager rolled his eyes and clapped his hands harshly to end the bickering.

“Okay. Which one of you bitches can actually sing?” he asked, first in Spanish, then in English, you noticed as he glanced at you.

Annie looked at you with raised brows. You glared back at her.

Damn you for telling her about your childhood church choir days. You were sure your religious mother never thought you’d be using those talents like this.

“No,” you said firmly. Annie just smiled and waved the manager over.

That was how the two of them ended up all but pushing you on stage—after Annie had wrangled you into a shimmering red gown over your underwear and pantyhose. It was overlayed with delicate beading in intricate patterns. And it was easily the most beautiful thing you’d ever had on your body.

However, you did take issue with how long the slit was, running all the way up to your hip bone.

Not really ‘20s style, now is it? you thought sourly.

Annie just slapped your ass and guided you forward.

You shot back one last look at her—one that swore you’d have your revenge.

Then the curtain slid open.

Fuck me, you thought nervously. This was really happening!

The lights blinded you for a moment, and you blinked the glare out of your eyes. They soon adjusted as you forced yourself to move towards the microphone at the right-hand side of the stage, close to the live band. The pianist shot you a smile and a wink as he started to play in dulcet tones.

Steeling yourself, you grabbed the microphone with a slight tremor in your hands. You stared out into the crowd as the rest of the band joined in, slow and jazzy.

You’d informed the manager that you really only knew one song by heart.

“Eh, that is too slow,” he’d replied to you in English.

“It’s that, or Dani belts out in her best soprano,” you informed him. He sighed and waved a resigned hand.

“Get her the red one,” he told Raquel. She then handed you the dress on a hanger.

Now, you held the microphone between both hands and started the song your grandmother used to sing to you when you were a kid.

“If I didn’t care, more than words can say,” you began. “If I didn’t care, would I feel this way?”

You took in an unsteady breath. With each note, your voice was getting stronger, more confident.

“If this isn’t love, then why do I thrill? And what makes my head go round and round, while my heart…stands…still…”

As you eased into the rest of the song, you remembered your mission.

You scanned the dark room, rows of men of all ages, women serving drinks and food and their own bodies. You weren’t finding your target.

But this intel was good. The source was the girl you’d replaced in the show, and M.M. had already worked out her safe exit out of the city for a while.

There. You finally saw it.

Or rather, you saw him.

Towards the back, Soldier Boy sat at a large exclusive booth. He had a long joint propped between his fingers, and a working woman from the club already propositioning to service him. Her manicured hand eased down his chest.

He also seemed to have hired men sitting at a table nearby.

Your voice nearly hitched at the sight of him, but you forced yourself to take a calming breath during a musical interlude.

You knew Annie and the rest of the team were here in the club somewhere, to back you up. But Soldier Boy knew Butcher and his team were onto him. the bastard would recognize them. You were the distraction here.

And if he went away with that escort, he could easily disappear upstairs and hop out the window again, gone like a coil of weed smoke.

Somehow, you needed to keep his ass in his seat.

So your voice came back in strong for the final verse.

“If I didn’t care, would it be the same? Would my every prayer begin and end…with just your name?”

You watched Soldier Boy’s gaze drift toward the stage. Your lips curved as you held his eyes for a moment…but then, you coyly slid your gaze away.

Okay, what’s going to grab his attention…

You shifted on the stage, letting the curve of your hip and ass sway to one side. You raised your other foot on the tips of your toes. And the slit running up your leg slid open, revealing your tall silver heels and a smooth leg, all the way up to the inside of your thigh.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to fit your gun holster this time.

“And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare…” Your voice rang out on the high note; at that climactic point, the music reached a crescendo.

You turned your head and looked directly into Soldier Boy’s eyes, and his mouth slid into a grin.

He was watching you.

Good.

“Would all this be true,” you sang, “if I didn’t care for you…”

As the final notes reverberated from the piano, applause and male whoops erupted from the crowd.

You slowly released the microphone, breaking off eye contact with your target.

Then you turned around, trying to hide the nervous tremor in your legs. You pressed a discreet hand to the communicator in your ear after the curtain fell behind you, and you told the team.

“He’s here.”

Annie was no longer backstage.

“Good job, crooner,” M.M. said on the comm.

“Watch him ‘til he’s ready to leave,” Butcher said to everyone.

You agreed and dodged the manager so you could slip to the back room within the dressing room.

You were about to change into your real clothes (and grab your gun), when you were stopped by a Latino man. Though he clearly wasn’t a local or a tourist. He looked ex-military, complete with a crew cut and dark beard.

“Soldier Boy would like to meet you,” he said in lightly accented English. You affected some doe-eyed shock, even though some of your surprise was genuine.

You’d just wanted to keep him watching the show. You hadn’t expected him to take the bait this much.

“Oh, wow…where? Now?” you asked.

“Now,” he confirmed. “Upstairs.”

He couldn’t even pick me up himself? Lazy, you wanted to tsk.

You spied the stage manager over by the doorway. He gave you a stern nod that told you that you had no choice but to accept.

Not that you ever intended to decline. Though of fucking course the manager had known Soldier Boy was here. He was probably a damn regular.

You gave Soldier Boy’s man a charming smile. “Lead the way.”

This wasn’t the plan, exactly. You decided it was even better though. Just infinitely more dangerous.

Even though you had years of training, honing your body and your mind in a fight, you weren’t a supe. You were, in fact, exceedingly breakable.

“Are you crazy, cherie?” Frenchie said on the comm.

You also thought you heard M.M. mutter an, “Aw shit.”

“She don’t got a choice now,” Butcher said. “But it’s a good play to get him alone. Slip her one of them hockey pucks.”

You heard M.M., Annie, Butcher, and Frenchie’s continued twittering back and forth about the change of plan. Meanwhile, you were being escorted upstairs.

Kimiko managed to maneuver into your path from the opposite direction, and she slipped a small disk into your hand as she passed you.

You gave her a grateful wink and discreetly placed the device into your bra while your escort wasn’t looking.

It wasn’t a dose of Novichok, but it was something that might keep Soldier Boy occupied for a moment. You intended to use it if he got too fucking handsy.

You were let into a room on the third floor. With the lavish way it was furnished, complete with a king-sized bed, it almost looked like a hotel room.

Yeah, Hotel California, you thought wryly, as the door shut behind you.

Soldier Boy sat at a table by the far wall, gazing out the window with yet another joint (or perhaps the same one?) and a generous pour of whiskey in his hand.

Even you could admit, he cut an attractive figure. He was dressed in light brown slacks, a matching suit jacket and a white dress shirt with the top buttons left open. A simple ensemble, but well-tailored and suited to the golden tan he’d developed here in South America. His beard was neatly trimmed, his short hair styled back in its familiar sweep on both sides.

Even seated, his posture was casual, yet controlled as his head turned to meet your gaze. A smile started to curve his lips.

Show time, you told yourself.

“You’re new,” he said. You tilted your head, a bit of flirtation in your smile.

“What makes you say that?” you asked.

He gave you an oh please look. With the hand that held his whiskey, he gestured with a curling finger.

“Come ‘ere. Don’t be shy,” he said. It was an order rather than a request, but you hid your instinctive annoyance.

You subtly took in a steadying breath. And you moved farther into the room. You didn’t stop until you were sitting opposite him at the window, crossing your legs beneath the table.

You could tell he’d expected you to take a seat in his lap, but to a degree, you didn’t want to do what he expected. He was likely paying the club well for this time. You didn’t want to make it easy.

You wanted him to be enticed. Invested in this moment.

And distracted, for as long as he let you.

You watched him glance down with interest at your bare leg peeking out. At your strappy silver heel shining along with your dress in the soft lamplight, which casted shadows across his profile.

“Want a drink?” he asked.

You were surprised he was offering you anything. You’d half-expected him to order you onto your knees already. Upon which, he would’ve received the gift currently residing in your bra a bit early.

You didn't want to take any drink you hadn't poured yourself, but you also needed to keep this act going...

"I'm not gonna fucking drug you," he said, reading the look in your eyes. "What would be the fucking point of that?"

Hmph. smart-ass motherfucker, you thought. But you didn't detect a lie.

You quirked your head and took the proffered sip from his glass. You wanted to play it cool, but maybe you also needed a little liquid courage.

“All right, easy on the booze. Get his guard down,” Butcher said in your ear. You resisted the urge to frown.

Could Butcher see you somehow too? Or was he just hearing the ice clinking in the glass as you gulped it down.

“Did you enjoy my performance?” you asked Soldier Boy.

“Still am, doll face,” he said with a smirk. You raised a brow.

“I’m not that new,” you replied, biting indelicately on a dark cherry. Your heeled foot slowly slid against the inside of his thigh.

It was his turn to raise brow. His head tilted with his smirk.

You didn’t know if he was more amused than turned on, but his gaze roamed openly over your legs, the cleavage on display, your dark red lips.

“Are you enjoying your stay in Medellin?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Oh, yeah. I’m having a fuckin’ ball,” he said wryly. He dabbed some ash off his blunt with a finger.

There was something off there, and you didn’t miss it.

“You sound bored,” you said. Soldier Boy considered you with a lustful, challenging gaze.

“Maybe. You gonna help me with that, sweetheart?”

A flutter of nerves churned in your belly, but you used it, letting the feeling prickle awareness across your skin.

“Depends,” you said coyly.

Both his brows rose this time, as if he was surprised you were actually pretending to resist him.

“On?”

You subtly leaned forward when you gave him back his glass, allowing him to spy a bit more down your dress. You stared into his deep green eyes, and tried not to get lost yourself. He was an attractive man, but he was also your target. A job you intended to finish.

A smile played at your lips.

“On what excites you,” you replied.

By the way his eyes darkened, his smile curving, you thought he liked that answer.

Then his hand extended toward you, a silent command in his gaze. Steeling yourself, you tried your best to be graceful and sensuous when you took his hand. He playfully jerked you forward, making you fall into his lap.

You waved some dank weed smoke out of your face as you looked down at his amused one.

He was nearly down to the roach on his joint. Meanwhile, his free heavy hand slid up your bare leg, disappearing beneath your dress and making goosebumps spread across your skin. Your breath hitched, though you disguised it with a smile.

“You afraid of me, sweetheart?” he cooed.

Yes, if you were honest with yourself.

There was a false sense of security in his deep voice. You looked down into his eyes, very green and intensely focused on you, despite his air of nonchalance.

“Not really,” you replied. “Only that you might get ash on my dress.”

He chuckled, smoke blowing out his nose. He put out the joint in the ashtray and took another sip of his whiskey, likely to drown out the cotton taste in his mouth. You laid a hand on his chest, fingers spreading between the open buttons, and felt his warm skin.

He glanced up at you with another challenging tilt to his head. What are you gonna do now?

You met that challenge, boldly leaning down to press a kiss against his lips. You held his face, delving your fingers into his soft hair.

Soldier Boy grabbed your hips with a bruising force. It made you wince, instinctively biting into his lower lip. He uttered a pleased sound, guttural in this throat. You braced yourself against the wall behind him for leverage as his chair started to tip back.

Before either of you could fall, he lifted you effortlessly by the waist and pivoted, pinning you against that wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist as his tongue invaded your mouth, devouring you with hot and heavy hands holding you in place.

His fingers pressed into the flesh of your thighs, and you knew you couldn’t easily escape if you needed to.

This is getting out of hand…

He was busy kissing a wet and sloppy line down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. It actually felt so fucking good to be touched. You hadn’t experienced it in so long, it almost startled you when your heated core pulsed with the friction you were feeling against the hardness in his slacks.

You would never admit it, but it wasn’t an act when you moaned into his ear. Fuck…

But when his hand again slipped under your dress and crept up your inner thigh, alarm bells triggered in your mind as panic started to set in. You panted for breath.

With him seemingly distracted, you reached down into your bra and grabbed the metal disk.

You gasped as Soldier Boy grabbed your wrist, tight as a vice. He looked down at you with a sly grin.

“You were fuckable in black, but red’s my favorite so far,” he said.

Your eyes widened. When the hell did he see me in black?

And then you remembered. You’d worn a black dress at the last club, where you got groped on the dance floor and found Soldier Boy’s latest note…

Had he hung around after all, watching you and the team pick up his clues?

And you realized, he knew exactly who you were.

Soldier Boy glanced down at your lips, then at the tops of your breasts heaving as you caught your breath. His eyes shone with mischief and lust.

“It’s a real shame. You’re probably a good fuck too,” he remarked. It sparked your irate disgust like a wildfire.

Then you smirked. “You can fuck this.”

You activated the disk in your hand and flicked it at him. He instinctively grabbed at his face, releasing you. The device attached to his cheek and electrified enough volts through his body to drop an elephant.

Maybe five. The CIA weapons specialist hadn’t been too sure.

And a star bolt shot Soldier Boy in the chest, shoving him away before he could grab at you.

You jumped back and continued to put several feet of distance between you and Soldier Boy, while Annie and the rest of your team poured into the room. They were poised for a fight, once Soldier Boy ripped the device off his face with a grunt. It probably hadn’t hurt him much, but he looked pissed now.

He rolled the kinks out of his neck and surveyed the room with a slow gait. He spared you a fleeting glance. You were now at the safety of Kimiko’s side, and Frenchie handed you a gun.

“Ah, the Scooby Gang,” Soldier Boy remarked. He nodded at Butcher. “This is how you repay me for taking care of Homelander? My own son.”

“He weren’t your fucking son,” Butcher replied. “I’d reckon you know that best of all.”

Soldier Boy’s lips twitched. Whether at a smile or a frown, you couldn’t tell.

“You found me, remember? So what, you got buyer’s remorse?” he said.

“See, the problem is, supes like you are what we call,” said Butcher, “a menace to fucking society.”

Soldier Boy’s lips pulled down into a frown. He looked a cross between annoyed and impatient.

“I fought for my country. I saved lives—”

“You took just as many as you might’ve saved,” M.M. interrupted. “And not just that building you burnt the fuck up last year.”

Soldier Boy hesitated at that. “You really wanna do this?”

You all really want to die? his eyes said. He got determined silence from all of you. He rolled his shoulders and adjusted his blazer.

“All right,” he shrugged.

Then all hell broke loose. You ducked for cover as Soldier Boy deflected the giant flare gun M.M. shot at him. With his bare hand.

Hired security then poured into the room—you assumed hired by Soldier Boy. And you protected Hughie from getting his neck snapped by shooting a man between the eyes.

You and M.M. continued to fight them off. Meanwhile, Kimiko and Annie tried to give Butcher and Frenchie a chance to get close with the Novichok gas on Soldier Boy.

You took care of three more men before you heard a low buzzing sound. You turned around, and a gasp fell from your lips when you saw Soldier Boy’s chest lighting up.

You knew what came next.

And so did Annie. She poured her all into her next star bolt—which managed to shove Soldier Boy through the window. She and Kimiko flew or otherwise ran out the window to follow him. While Butcher, Frenchie, and M.M. helped you fight off the last of the hired guns.

Finally, you covered Hughie as the five of you left the normal, human way, and ran down the stairs to exit the club. By the time you were able to join Annie and Kimiko, however, Soldier Boy had disappeared.

You glared down the dark, busy streets of Medellin.

Damn it!

You returned to the hotel disappointed and angry beyond fucking belief. Mostly at yourself.

After all the work you did, having to seduce and make out with that bastard, only to discover he’d made you long before you took the stage at the club.

Fucking hell, you thought angrily as you kicked at your suitcase. It sent your clothes tumbling across the dirty carpet, but right now you didn’t give a fuck. Damn cocky bastard.

In the bathroom, you kicked off your heels in relief. You looked yourself over in the mirror and found various cuts and bruises from the fight. Your softly curled hair was a shambles, along with your makeup.

Parts of your dress were torn, along with your pantyhose. Which was probably Soldier Boy’s doing, if you thought about it. You sighed.

You were about to start undressing, but then you heard something. A small sound, like a thump.

Your gun was on the table in the main room. Frowning in suspicion, you left the bathroom cautiously. Before your hand could close around your gun, a gloved hand grabbed your wrist.

You aimed a punch with your free one and caught a man directly in the jaw. He reeled back, but was quick to recover and try to grab you again.

While the guy was strong, you could feel that he wasn’t a supe. A human, you could deal with. He wore a mask over his face, but you could see he had shoulder-length brown hair. He was tall and lean, and one of his boots was strangely larger than the other.

You didn’t have time to focus on it. You redirected his following blow and used his strength against him, flipping him over your shoulder. Unfortunately, he landed on the table that held your poor laptop.

“Aw, shit,” you snapped with a grimace. You searched for your gun in the wreckage.

While you were somewhat distracted, he aimed a kick that caught you in the face, sending you onto your back with a pained cry. You quickly rolled over and got to your feet, just as your attacker threw out fist after fist.

You dodged and shoved away most of them, until he grabbed your arm and managed to crack his elbow into your temple.

You went down and hit your head hard against the bedframe.

And it was lights out.

You slowly, painfully woke up in a moving car.

You were suffering the cottony taste of a gag in your mouth and a musty bag over your head. Your wrists were tied in front of you, and it felt like you were shoved into the backseat. The car was quiet, save for the radio playing Latin pop on low volume.

You never would’ve thought Shakira would be the background track of your kidnapping, but here you were.

The car eventually stopped and you were dragged out, forced onto your feet on a cobblestone driveway. Then into a house.

…Well, this fucking sucks.

The thought rattled through your mind as you were led down a hallway, across a cold expanse of tile floor. You couldn’t see where you were going with this stuffy bag over your head, but you knew it was tile. Your bare feet all but scraped across it as they dragged you.

Whoever held your arms in a vice grip eventually forced you to sit in a rickety wooden chair. They pulled your wrists behind the chair and bound them together with a zip tie.

You felt the slit on your dress sliding open, so you crossed your legs, for whatever good that would do you. At the very least, it would give the impression that you were sitting here casually, and not (figuratively) shitting yourself with fear.

“What the hell is this?” a deep, familiar voice asked.

“A gift.” You knew this voice as well. Neither one instilled you with calm.

Then the bag finally came off your head. The gag did not, however. You knew your red dress was in unfortunate tatters. You knew you were bruised and scratched, and overall worse for wear.

But when your gaze found your kidnapper, you glared up at him with a stubborn tilt to your chin. Antonio, Señor Groping Bastard from the club, was smirking back at you.

What the fuck.

Then you noticed him.

Soldier Boy stared back at you with raised brows, and instant recognition in his eyes. His lips curved into a smirk.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

AN: 😬 So we finally made it to the prologue opener! Was it everything you thought it would be? How did you like her attempt at "undercover?" 🤭

And are you ready for what's coming next?

To keep reading: Part 3

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303 @123passwort @xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @yvonneeeee @fckinel @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @waters-2567 @emily-winchester

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fahye · 1 year ago

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book recs: oct/nov 2023

I read an obscene number of books during my weeks travelling in the USA, so here are some highlights!

A GENTLEMAN UNDONE by cecilia grant - I actually read all three in this excellent series, but this is the highlight. a tense, engrossing regency romance between a gentleman desperate to make money in gambling halls and the woman who teaches him to count cards, who unfortunately happens to be someone else's mistress. extremely horny and very smart.

SHADOW MAGIC by jaida jones & danielle bennett - after HAVEMERCY I desperately needed the rest of the series, and happily I had dinner with jaida and dani and was given them! this one is classic political fantasy: assassins, ambassadors, a devoted bodyguard and his beautiful prince, and a flamboyant little chaos magician who wonders why nobody else in his delegation is enjoying the beautiful local Fashion Robes. this book has never had a heterosexual thought in its entire life.

AMERICAN QUEEN by sierra simone - okay, this is a rec for the entire series (AMERICAN PRINCE & AMERICAN KING follow), a modern arthur-lancelot-guinevere retelling where they're american politicians and they're all in love and kinky and fucked up about it. mostly smut, lots of angst, occasional plot. maybe the hottest thing I've ever read in my life?? damn, sierra simone knows what she's doing.

THE MOON IS A HARSH MISTRESS by robert a. heinlein - what if we were a moon colony and we decided to stage a revolutionary war and we asked a bored AI computer to run the logistics for us? I'm such a sucker for logistics, and heinlein delivers in spades. very funny, great worldbuilding, fun characters. has aged surprisingly well, I think.

10 THINGS THAT NEVER HAPPENED by alexis hall - a pure shot of gay grumpy/sunshine delivered via FAKE AMNESIA TROPE and a plot lovingly and lampshadily borrowed from the classic sandra bullock vehicle while you were sleeping. alexis hall's protagonists and glorious supporting casts always grab me, and this was no exception.

THE FALL THAT SAVED US by tamara jerée - do you like the good omens setup of bookshop angel vs. snarky demon, destined to be enemies but oh no we're in love, and you'd like to add some recovery from family trauma + sex scenes + also they're sapphic? yes. good. enjoy.

CHAIN-GANG ALL-STARS by nana kwame adjei-brenyah - holy shit!! finished this one yesterday and will be thinking about it for a long time. premise: criminals can choose to compete in deadly televised gladiator matches instead of remaining in prison. this is an absolutely brutal examination of the prison industrial complex and the violent commodification of bodies (especially bodies of colour) under our capitalist hellscape. lyrical, wonderful, cutting. very queer and very angry. I flew through it. what a fantastic book.

#book recs

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mpregandproud · 3 months ago

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Isaac II (Part 1)

Twenty years ago my life took a 180 degree turn. After separating from my ex-wife Sandra, Isaac came into my life, and with him an adventure that if someone told you about it you would not believe. In just five years I went through five pregnancies and gave birth to seventeen children, no more and no less. With my husband I had eleven of them, and we adopted the daughter I had with my ex-wife, whom I got pregnant before our separation. And we decided to be surrogates for our friends Lucas, Ray and Tom, six more children. Oh yes, I forgot, I am a man, a man who got pregnant. I know, I'm kind of a weirdo. Although Isaac prefers to say it's a “gift given to me by nature”.

While Isaac and I adore our children and thoroughly enjoyed my pregnancies, we decided to stop making babies. With twelve boys and girls per household we had more than enough. We had dreamed of having a big, happy family, especially since neither of us had grown up in large families. The dream of our lives was more complete than ever. Or so we believe at the time.

After having the sextuplets we decided to leave the city and move to the town where I grew up. There we bought a big house in the country. Isaac and I could work from home, and being close to my parents and sister would help us raise little quintuplets Dylan, Nate, Philip, Edward and Cristina, sextuplets Bruce, Ken, Patrick, Charlotte, Ivana and Jason, and Sandra, the oldest of all our children.

This change allowed me to make a major change in my life. I started to take up sports again and regain a healthier way of life. With Lucas, Gary, Samuel and Frank, my former soccer teammates when I was young, we started participating in the veterans' league. Although I never regained the shape I had before I gave birth, I lost my belly and my muscles started to show after years of being hidden under fat. My ass, two large spheres, and my hips, wide as proof of having given birth to a full soccer team with its starting and substitute players included, were living witnesses that inside me the party of life had taken place.

Isaac and I have strengthened our relationship a lot over the years. He is my soul mate. If I ever had any doubts about our marriage, seeing him day in and day out taking care of our children made me fall in love with him like I did the first day I saw him on that soccer field. Now in his 50s, he is the sugar daddy I once dreamed of as a teenager, when I was still trying to convince myself that I liked women. His athletic body and the gray hair that has slightly whitened his hair is like a dream come true. When he comes home from working in the garden, sweaty and dirty, I have to hold back my desire for him to slam me against the wall and plant his potent seed inside me again.

This is not to say that Isaac and I have stopped fucking, in fact we do it more than ever. The years have made us wilder. And now that our older kids are in college and our younger ones are in high school, we have more time to live our passionate love intensely. Maybe we have too much time, and too much passion for no good.

Yes, as you can imagine, the inevitable happened again. Sixteen years after I had last been pregnant I felt morning sickness and a general feeling of discomfort in my body again. I didn't want to believe it at first. Remember that we had decided not to have any more babies, but Mother Nature had other plans. That's why a condom broke, there was a plan to get us pregnant again. Apparently twelve children was not enough, so a new litter was about to arrive. I was pregnant again.

For the first time in all these years I saw Isaac worried. In spite of having experience in the matter, this was going to be my sixth time pregnant, it was not the same to be pregnant when I was 30 than when I was 50. And I wasn't sure that my body would work the same way either.

“What are we going to do, Isaac, do you want to become a father again?”, I asked him the night after we confirmed the pregnancy.

“Daniel, I don't know. I really don't know, it was no longer in my plans to be a father again. I adore our children and I love you madly, but I have more doubts than ever”, he said cuddling up to me on the bed. “I remember when we found out you were pregnant twenty years ago it was you who had doubts, and me who reassured you. But look at me now, I don't recognize myself, I'm scared of what this pregnancy might mean for you, especially knowing that we tend to have many children at the same time”, he was shaking as he told me, so I grabbed his hand and shook it tightly to try to calm him down.

I gave him a little kiss on the crown of his head. “I didn't expect to find myself gestating a child again either at our age and after going through this so many times. I already felt complete with what we had. But today, when the doctor confirmed that we were pregnant, something changed in me. I have doubts, lots and lots of doubts, but also the desire to be a father again with you”, I told him without being able to look at him because I was so nervous. “I think it's clear to me that I want to have this child, or children. It may be our last chance to be parents again. Who knows. And, I'm not going to lie to you, I love how much the pregnancies brought us together before. So, yes, I want to be a father”. I looked down and saw him crying emotionally, as much as I was. Both with tears in our eyes.

Isaac sat up, grabbed my face and said in a breathy voice, “I love you so much. We're in this together, let's get to it”. We kissed passionately and sealed that night by fucking like animals again.

The following week we got our children together. Taking advantage of the fact that the older ones had returned from college that week for summer vacation, it was the ideal time to tell them all the good news. Isaac prepared a barbecue in the garden. We also invited Esther and her children Svetlana and Boris, the children she had with Yevgeni, who died last year in a helicopter accident.

Our best friends, Lucas and Adam, and their children Daniel and Isaac, the first ones I had as a surrogate, also came. They are also our family, our chosen family. For little Daniel and Isaac, our sons are their cousins, and we are their uncles. Lucas and Adam wanted us to be in their lives from day one. I will be eternally grateful to them, as it helped me cope better with the strange feeling of having given birth to children that were technically not mine. I still have a very close relationship with the other children I had as a surrogate, but they live farther away, so I see them less often. And also, Daniel and Isaac were my first, it's something special, hard to explain.

When they were a little older Lucas and Adam explained to the boys that I was the one who gestated them because they could not. Far from being scared, the children became even more fond of me. They say that I am their favorite uncle. When they tell me that in front of Isaac he gets jealous. I love to see him like that. He looks so sexy in those funny moments.

Before we got to desserts I sat for a while with my sister Esther and Lucas, my childhood friend. She has always been very perceptive, so it didn't catch me by surprise that she was the one who asked me the question, “You're pregnant again, aren't you?”. Lucas was silent and staring at me with wide eyes. “The first time you got pregnant you did something similar in Isaac's apartment in the city. You will have many children, but originality is not your strong point,” she said teasing me as only a sister knows how. I sipped my soda and nodded my head. “But don't tell anyone yet, we want to announce it to all of you today”, I winked.

Both Esther and Lucas were concerned about a pregnancy in my fifties. “Are you sure? You and Isaac have sky-high fertility, so knowing your backgrounds it's possible you're expecting a whole basketball team. Isn't that dangerous at your age?” said a very concerned Lucas. “Yes, we are aware of the complications that may be involved, but we want to give it a try. It could be our last chance to be parents again. It's not a planned pregnancy, but we agree that we want to try. We take all the risks”, I told them.

They both gave me a big hug in that very moment. They are the two people who understand me best. Apart from Isaac, I can talk to Esther and Lucas about anything. Their hug felt comforting, they were giving me their approval and support. I knew that in the face of any difficulty I could count on them in this adventure.

From across the garden Isaac was looking at us. I knew that without explaining anything to him, just by seeing the three of us hugging, he was aware that Lucas and Esther knew about the pregnancy and that they were giving me strength. His smile at the sight of us made me feel even more confident in the decision we had made. It would not be a planned pregnancy, but it would be a desired pregnancy.

After desserts we gathered everyone around the table and Isaac was in charge of telling everyone. “Thank you for coming to our house today. For us it is very important to have the family close to us in all our steps as a couple and as parents. We are about to start a journey with many doubts, but that will once again fill this house with love”. He then grabbed me with his left hand and put his right hand on my belly. In case anyone did not understand his gesture, he proceeded to clarify it by shouting it from the rooftops. “We are going to be parents again. We are pregnant!”, he announced with the same joy with which twenty years ago he told that we were pregnant for the first time.

Everyone started squealing with joy and celebrating. If there were any doubts, our family cleared them all. Our children hugged both of us, some of them crying with excitement as Isaac and I were. Sandra, our oldest, gave me a huge hug, then told me that “mommy would be as excited as I am right now. I can't wait to have new siblings". I think a lot about my ex-wife Sandra, and as my daughter said, I'm sure that on a day like this she would have liked to be with us celebrating. I miss her, I hope she is proud of the family we have given our daughter.

Be that as it may, come what children may, we are on this journey together, Isaac and I. Together about to become parents again. Living the best of our lives.

Go to Part 2

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safyresky · 2 years ago

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Okay so, Shoes off the Bed Clause. I think this is my fave episode so far???? I just.

AND A MYSTERIOUS FIGURE??? I BET IT'S EITHER PAST SANTAS OR BERNARD. PROBABLY BOTH. AHH! I'll stick thoughts under cut bc spoilers.

ok so FIRST OF ALL, WHAT THE FUCK SIMON???????

I figured he'd go corporate (I GOTTA have a bingo by now) but WOW SEEING IT? AWFUL! IS THIS WAS FROSTMAS FELT LIKE? BECAUSE WOW. SIMON IS SOMEHOW WORSE THAN SANTA JACK, I SHIT YOU NOT. The Union comment? Him not caring about the concerns Betty or any of the elves had? Two elves EXPLODE IN FRONT OF HIM and he goes "this is fine and totally normal!" WHAT THE FUCK, SIMON! WHAT THE FUCK.

This man is my villain origin story, bout to go torch the north pole mySELF frfr. god DAMN.

Second of all, BEFANA!

I love that Betty went to see her, I LOVE that the jacket was there, also LOVE THAT BEFANA IS GOING TO CONTACT BERNARD 100% THAT'S THE HIM. CALLING IT NOW. And I think B-Man deserves a tolling bell as his calling card tbh, mans puts up with a LOT of shit.

AND HORSE GIRL SANDRA?

I like that we're seeing more of Sandra's abilities. Still feel like they're not being done in a decent way given everything else going down? We have 0 explanation about why she can speak to animoos and they don't seem to be delving into the why more which is upsetti spagetti here at SafyreSky Industries. The POTENTIAL! AH!

Buddy and Noel SHINE, of course

AND CAROL! CAROL IS OUT HERE GIRLBOSSING AND WE LOVE IT FOR HER

I am so happy she is right back in it, that's. I'm. Very good for her!! I'm NOT a fan of her being so like. SCORNED by the Mrs Claus thing? And that being a point she keeps bringing up? Like I see why, I get it, BUT STILL. And I am very much of the opinion that she could just. She could just fucking. She could be GIRLBOSSING withOUT the reason being "29 plus years as Mrs Claus has made her. Well. Like that". STILL REFUSE TO BELIEVE SHE DID NOT SEND HER KIDS TO SCHOOL OR SCHOOL THEM HERSELF BUT YOU KNOW, WHATEVER. GUESS I'LL DIE ON THIS HILL, TOO. (the previous hills being THERE SHOULD'VE BEEN TWO TIMMIES IN THE MAIN SQUARE IN TSC3 and JACK FROST THAWED AND ISN'T A VILLAIN ANYMORE)

ugh. anyway, I think Ana and I are about to start our rewatch? I'm sure more thoughts will come your way from SafyreSky Industries tonight because holy lordy smokies im. wOW

#dani speaks #dani watches tscs #tscs spoilers #the santa clauses #dare i say it? but i think?? sandra is passing the vibe check finally????

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mcu-binge · 29 days ago

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Love in Brooklyn pt 11

This week started with a whirlwind of excitement I didn't quite expect. Just a few days after Steve left, an email from Gourmet Gazette landed in my inbox, asking if they could feature the bakery in an article—and put my pastries on the cover. It felt surreal, like a dream I hadn't dared to think would come true. I was thrilled, but as soon as I read it, my mind went to Steve. I caught myself reaching for my phone, wishing I could tell him.

I arrived early at the bakery on the day of the photoshoot, determined to make everything look perfect. The familiar smells wrapped around me as I prepped, laying out delicate conchas, tres leches cupcakes, and beautiful pan dulce in careful displays. I wanted every detail to be right, to capture the bakery at its best.

The photographer and editorial team bustled around, setting up lights and cameras. Their excitement was contagious, and it put me at ease. When the editor, Sandra, approached, she gave me a warm smile that somehow settled my nerves.

"You ready, Dani? We're going to start with the cupcakes," she said.

"Oh, absolutely!" I grinned, pushing aside any lingering thoughts about Steve. This was my moment, a chance for the bakery to shine. I had to make it count.

As they began arranging each dessert, I couldn't help but feel a wave of pride. They were going to put my pastries on the cover of a national magazine. My mind kept wandering to Steve, though, imagining the way his eyes would light up if I could tell him. The memory of his last promise played over and over in my mind, making me wish he could be here to see it all.

At one point, Sandra caught me gazing at the setup with a grin. "Your pastries are beautiful, Dani. Our readers are going to love this issue."

"Thank you," I replied, feeling a flush of happiness. "It means a lot to have people interested in what we do here."

The hours passed quickly with each shot, every angle and tiny adjustment. I was completely in the zone, arranging the display to make sure each pastry looked perfect, from the flan with its glossy caramel to the churros dusted in just the right amount of cinnamon sugar.

Finally, as things started to wind down, Sandra came over with a big smile. "Thank you so much for today. This is going to be a stunning cover."

"Thank *you* for the opportunity," I said, feeling my heart swell with pride. "It's such an honor."

Once the team had left, the bakery fell back into its usual calm, and I took a deep breath, letting the excitement sink in. It was everything I'd worked for, and I should have felt on top of the world. But all I could think about was how much I wanted to share it with him.

Back home, I grabbed my notebook and started to write it all down. Capturing my thoughts on paper has always been my way of processing things, and today was no different. I recapped the photoshoot, the way the pastries looked in the camera, and the compliments from the team. But partway through, I couldn't help but write:

I kept wanting to tell Steve about today. I keep thinking about his reaction and how proud he'd be. It's strange to miss someone like this, especially since we haven't known each other that long.

I sighed and closed the notebook, leaving it on my nightstand. Today had been incredible, but there was a nagging ache in my chest that just wouldn't go away. I wondered when he'd come back and if he'd have any idea how much I wanted to tell him about all of it.

The day after the magazine shoot was buzzing in my head as I went about my usual morning routine at the bakery. There was this new hum of excitement, but I couldn't shake the quiet pang that lingered at the thought of Steve. I distracted myself by setting up the display cases, filling them with fresh conchas, empanadas, and croissants. Just as I was arranging the last tray, the bell above the door chimed, and in walked a tall man with sharp eyes, dark hair and a slight smirk.

"Morning," he greeted, voice low and casual. "Got any good coffee here?"

I glanced up, taking in the leather jacket and relaxed stance, though he held himself in a way that made it clear he was no stranger to intensity. "Depends. How picky are you?"

He chuckled, hands slipping into his pockets. "Let's say... moderately selective."

"Well, lucky for you, I don't serve bad coffee here." I grabbed a cup and started the pour. "You want anything with it?"

He pointed to the conchas. "I hear those are worth a try."

"Oh, you've heard, huh?" I eyed him, setting the coffee and concha on the counter. "Who exactly told you that?"

"Friend of mine," he replied with an easy shrug, taking a sip. "I'm James."

I raised an eyebrow, studying his face. He looked familiar, but it wasn't until he took his jacket off and the glint of metal caught my eye that I connected the dots. "Wait a second... You're Bucky."

His grin widened. "You know Steve, don't you?"

I laughed, crossing my arms. "Maybe I do. And maybe he's told me a thing or two about you, Sergeant Barnes."

He winced, but I could see the humor in his eyes. "Ah, we're going with the formalities, huh?"

"Only until I know you deserve first-name privileges," I shot back, earning a laugh from him. He picked up the concha, breaking off a piece and popping it into his mouth.

"Alright, alright. Just call me James." He pointed to the pastry. "And this is really good. No wonder Steve keeps talking about this place."

I leaned on the counter, feigning nonchalance. "Oh? So he's been talking about me?"

"More than you'd believe," Bucky said, giving me a knowing look. "Between you and me, he's pretty taken with you, you know."

"Oh really?" I let my tone drip with sarcasm, but I felt a rush of warmth in my cheeks. "And what, exactly, has he been saying?"

Bucky smirked, folding his arms and leaning against the counter, clearly enjoying this. "Let's see... he might've mentioned that you're smart, tough, and make the best pastries in Brooklyn. The first two I still have to see, but I think he might be right about that last one."

I shook my head, laughing. "Oh, so you're the kind to dish out compliments and critiques in the same breath, huh?"

"Just keeping you on your toes." He took another sip, studying me over the rim of his cup. "I see what he means now, though. You've got... personality."

"Is that so?" I shot back, raising an eyebrow. "I'd hate to be boring."

Bucky chuckled. "Trust me, you're anything but. He's never raved about anyone like he does about you. And I've known him long enough to know he doesn't say things he doesn't mean."

I swallowed, not quite sure how to respond. "Well... thanks, I guess?"

"Don't thank me yet," he teased, leaning a little closer. "I'm still trying to figure out what it is about you that's got him hooked."

"Trying to crack the code?" I asked, grinning.

"Something like that." He looked me up and down with an exaggerated critical eye. "You're feisty, I'll give you that. And bold. Definitely his type."

"Oh, so you're the expert now?" I crossed my arms, not giving him an inch.

"Hey, I've been his wingman for, what... seventy years? I think I've got a pretty good read on him." He gave me a playful wink. "But let's not kid ourselves, you know what you're doing."

I laughed, rolling my eyes. "Oh please. I'm just a girl who bakes pastries. You, on the other hand, seem like you'd be trouble."

He leaned in, lowering his voice. "Maybe just a little. But I'm also a great judge of character." He said with a smirk.

My heart thudded a little, but I kept my cool. "Good thing I can handle myself, then."

Bucky's smile turned thoughtful as he looked around the bakery. "You know, he told me about this place like it was some kind of oasis. And he was right. It's got... charm. Just like you."

"Well, I try to make it a welcoming place," I said, smiling. "Though I didn't realize it had an audience among superheroes."

"So how do you feel about my friend?" He asked before taking another bit of the concha.

"Who wants to know?" I teased. He gave a me knowing smile making me shake my head. "I really enjoy spending time with Steve." I finally admit. "He's been the freshest breath of air I've had in a really long time."

"He is the best, but I must warn you he's got this tendency to take his time sometimes he just needs a little push," he advised.

"A little push?" I questioned.

"A little push." He confirmed. I narrowed my eyes slightly trying to see if he would tell me more. "I want to see Steve happy and while he is very happy I'm afraid he'll wait too long like always and not get what he deserves." He explains.

"I see," I said nodding my head. "Well I'll make sure to make that push when the time comes."

"Good." Bucky chuckled. "This is probably the most famous bakery none of us have actually seen."

I laughed. "I'd like to keep it that way. Can't have you guys storming in here, ruining the vibe all the time."

"Fair enough, but let Steve come whenever he wants between you and me," he said, leaning in conspiratorially, "he's a little lost without you. I think you're good for him."

I felt a strange mix of pride and nerves. "I like to keep things interesting," I said, lifting my chin.

"Oh, you've got that covered," Bucky laughed. He polished off the rest of his concha, looking more impressed than he'd let on before. "Alright, Dani. I'll leave you to it, but don't be a stranger."

I smirked, giving a mock salute. "Same goes for you, Sergeant Barnes."

"Take care," he replied, giving me a parting smile before he left, the bakery bell chiming as the door closed behind him.

I watched him go, feeling like I'd just been thrown into a secret club of sorts—a world I'd barely brushed the surface of, but couldn't seem to resist.

I was still processing Bucky's visit and the whirlwind of emotion that followed when my phone buzzed. It was Sofia, her name lighting up my screen with an energy only she could bring.

"Dani, babe, please tell me you're free tonight," she pleaded as soon as I picked up.

"Sofia, it's past eight," I laughed. "What do you have in mind?"

"Club opening. Exclusive, VIP, all that jazz. You need it after the crazy week you've had!" Her voice sparkled with excitement.

I hesitated for a moment, feeling the strange tug of loyalty to someone who wasn't even here. "Sofia, I don't know. I had kind of a long day."

"Don't you dare back out on me, Dani!" she exclaimed. "You need a night out, some fun, some... excitement. Please?"

I could practically hear her pout, and it was impossible to say no to her. "Alright, alright! But I'm only staying a couple of hours."

"Yes!" she squealed. "I'll swing by in an hour. Wear something sexy!"

By the time we got to the club, I was genuinely excited, though that small ache in the back of my mind was still there. The lights flashed, music pulsed, and Sofia and I got right into the rhythm, laughing and dancing. We hadn't done this in way too long.

Halfway through the night, as Sofia went to the bar for a refill, I found myself approached by a tall, strikingly attractive man. Dark hair, piercing eyes, dressed in a suit that looked custom-fitted. He flashed me a confident smile.

"Hi," he said, leaning in slightly to be heard over the music. "Didn't think someone like you would be here alone."

I smirked, not giving anything away. "Who said I was alone?"

"Fair point," he replied, unfazed. "Mind if I join you for a bit?"

Before I could answer, Sofia returned, catching his eye with an approving nod, as if she'd vetted him on sight. "I'm Sofia," she chimed in, raising her glass. "And my friend here is Dani."

He gave her a polite nod, eyes returning to me. "Nice to meet you, Dani."

I tried to stay detached, to keep it friendly, but I couldn't help feeling a tiny thrill as he leaned in closer. We talked for a bit—innocent, playful banter. But every now and then, he'd give me a look that held more than a casual interest, and I could feel myself almost fighting with my own boundaries. It felt like a tug of war inside me; I wanted to enjoy myself, but a part of me was already tangled up with Steve, even if I didn't know exactly what we were.

"So, what's the story?" he asked smoothly, his voice low and warm. "Are you—single?"

"Depends who's asking," I teased back. "A girl can keep her secrets, can't she?"

"Fair enough," he said with a wink. "Just know I'll be thinking about that answer all night."

A little thrill raced down my spine, but I kept my response casual. I wasn't about to give him too much. "I guess you'll just have to wonder."

His expression turned slightly more intense, and he leaned closer, lowering his voice. "It's rare I meet someone who's uninterested in me, Dani. I feel mortal."

There was something about the way he looked at me, the way he waited for my response, that made my heart beat faster. But at the same time, I couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. He was attractive and intriguing, but... he wasn't Steve.

"Think about what you want," he said, as if reading my mind, before straightening up and giving me a smile that suggested he wasn't quite done trying. "Maybe I'll see you around, Dani."

As he left, Sofia was immediately at my side, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Girl! What was that about?"

I rolled my eyes, brushing it off, but Sofia wasn't having it. "Oh no, you can't just pretend like nothing happened! He was practically eating you up with his eyes."

"Sof, it's not like that," I protested, though even I wasn't entirely sure what "it" was.

She looked at me, picking up on my hesitation. "Is this about Steve?"

I sighed, admitting it quietly. "I don't know what's happening there, okay? He never said we were... anything."

Sofia took my hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "I know it's complicated. But maybe... maybe it's okay to just feel things, even if you don't have it all figured out yet."

I nodded, grateful for her understanding, even if I couldn't quite make sense of my own feelings. "Let's get out of here," I said finally, wanting to end the night on a good note. "How about I make us some food?"

--- We stumbled back to my place, our heels clicking on the quiet streets. Once inside, I kicked off my shoes and went straight to the kitchen. I grabbed a pizza from the freezer and extra cheese to add on top—simple but comforting.

Sofia sat herself on the counter, swinging her legs, watching me with a relaxed smile as I got started. "You know, you're a total goddess in the kitchen," she said, propping her chin in her hands.

"You've been saying that since we were teenagers," I laughed, shredding the extra cheese. "You're biased."

She shook her head. "Nah, I mean it. And I get why Steve is crazy about you. There's something about watching you cook that's just... mesmerizing."

Her words made me pause for a second, and I felt a warm blush creeping up my cheeks. "Girl.... I'm making a frozen pizza," I teased, trying to brush it off.

"Nope. If Bucky came to see you just imagine the wonders he's telling them about you."

I smirked, stirring everything together in the pan. "Well, you might be right."

After a few more minutes, the kitchen filled with the smell of melted cheese and pepperoni. I plated up some slices setting everything on the small table in my living room.

Sofia took a bite and moaned, dramatically pressing a hand to her heart. "Oh my god, this is better than any food. You, my friend, are a lifesaver."

I laughed, taking my own bite, savoring the simple comfort of it. The night had been fun, and now, sharing this late-night meal with Sofia, I felt grounded. She'd always been my support, my partner in crime.

"So," she said between bites, "when he gets back, do you think you'll finally have that talk?"

I shrugged, my gaze drifting to the window. "Honestly? I don't know. There's a lot to figure out."

"Daniela what is there to figure out? It's Captain freakin America !" She said like trying to embed it into my head.

"He's just Steve." I said with a smile. "When we're together none of the hero stuff matters and my complicated life doesn't matter."

"Seeeee," she drags. "What is there to figure out?"

"I don't know but something always comes up and ruins things my family my job my insecurities, something is bound to go wrong." I said out loud for the first time ever.

"Dani, I love you and I have seen you suffer don't manifest bad things happening. Maybe just maybe everything will work out and you will get to be happy." She reached over, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Whatever happens, you'll handle it. And I'll be here to back you up. No matter what." Maybe she's right.

I grinned, lifting my pizza in a toast. "To us. And whatever comes next."

"To us," she echoed, raising pizza slice with a smile.

And as we sat there, the quiet of the early morning wrapping around us, I felt ready for whatever the future held—whatever that meant for me and Steve.

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