#THE DREAM HAD ME AND STEVE CHILLING AND THEN FRESH JUST SHOWS UP LIKE HEY

[socksandbuttons]

Hi!! this is the same anon that bought you the check marks :D just a question, do you have a character that you hated at first but then they started and grow on you and now you love them ? :]

HI I SAW!!! i didnt realize tumblr also sent that in asks fdjdk BUT THANK YOU! im certified now (for what i dont know but im here!) I did answer something like this before a while back.

Alright so HATE is a strong word but ill see if recall- Earth was such on the fence for a bit when she first appeared (i really didnt want the Lunar and Earth show BUT LOOK AT ME NOW. i love it. theyre silly) and now I love her very much ill fight for that woman. look at her GOOO Uh who else. i feel like eclipse maybe, i was on the 'wow what a terrible brother' cause lunar is why i stayed to watch the show since the FIRST october. anyway i dont quite recall my thought process on him at first just 'ah compelling'. I dont think I hated bloodmoon, just indifferent for a while and understood peoples love, KC buddy- i think was like 'BRUH???' but i dont think i hated him. the moment the dad thing happened i was EYEING so much and then he just kinda wasnt in the story much... Sad. SAD. anyway. This is about hate. or suppose to be. I genuinely dont know who i wouldve been hating on. Other than Earth before she showed up. And then she showed up and i was like 'nevermind come back'. IM THINKING VERY HARD RN because im like

Does Fresh Sans Count?? I dont recall hating him but i wasnt interested until i had a dream and then i was like '...Well damn'.

[etherealwaifgoddess]

More Time - Chpt.12

Summary: It’s first date time at last!   Master list can be found HERE.

Warnings/ Content: Sweet romantic date feels

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! We made it to Friday. And after this crazy week, that feels like an accomplishment. I encourage everyone to take some chill time / self care/ relaxation time / whatever you want to call it time, at some point this weekend. Now, please enjoy the most perfect, sweet, romantic first date two super soldiers could ever take a girl on! XOXO - Ash

Chapter Twelve

Emma hadn’t been anywhere as fancy as DaVinci’s in about ten years when her parents had taken her out to celebrate her college graduation. Luckily she had a simple black dress that would work if she added her nicest set of jewelry and pulled her hair half up with a clasp. It was a swing style dress with elbow length sleeves and hidden pockets on the sides. Emma prided herself on her amazing thrift shop find and very begrudgingly pulled on a pair of Spanx to smooth out her silhouette. She was comfortable with her curves but appreciated a little extra support smoothing them out. The set of pearls that her mother had given her when she turned eighteen looked perfect against the plain black dress, a classic look she mused the guys would probably appreciate. Emma didn’t do make up often other than a quick wave of mascara, but she took the time and effort to draw neat lines with tiny wing flicks on her eyes and smoothed on a bold red lipstick. 

She was fixing her hair one last time when the buzzer sounded in her apartment. Emma buzzed them up and smoothed her dress nervously in the mirror one last time. A series of quick knocks rapped on her door and she opened it to welcome the guys inside her apartment. Steve looked like he had swallowed his tongue. “Oh wow.” he said quietly, not budging. 

Bucky chuckled, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders to herd him into the apartment. “What Stevie means is: hi Emma you look amazing.” 

Emma was struggling to find words herself. They were both in suits, Bucky in navy blue and Steve in pale grey, and Bucky had pulled his hair back in stylish half up bun. They were both breathtakingly handsome in very different ways and complemented each other perfectly. 

“You both look incredible.” Emma said as she gathered her purse and coat from the living room closet.

“Thanks, doll.” Bucky looked down at Steve who was blushing brightly at her compliment. “You gonna be okay pal?” he asked quietly

Steve nodded and gave Bucky a hesitant smile of assurance. 

Bucky led them down to his waiting car, he wouldn’t be affected by the wine at dinner so it made the most sense for him to drive. But also he just really loved driving his car. He had bought it when the Army back pay came in and it was his one truly extravagant purchase. The government had been less than thrilled to give him the same honor as Steve but after it was publicly proven he had spent the last seventy years as a prisoner of war they had little choice. 

“This is your car.” Emma looked at the sleek black Audi with wide eyes.

“This is her.” Bucky said with pride, opening the passenger side door and letting Steve slide into the back seat. Emma moved to follow but Bucky held onto her arm for a moment, “You can sit up front, doll.” he offered. 

Emma shook her head, “It’s okay, I want to sit with Steve. Not that I don’t want to sit with you too but...” 

Bucky nodded, “You’re not gonna hurt my feelings. Go ahead and squeeze in with Stevie.” 

Bucky helped Emma into the back seat before hurrying around to the driver's seat. “When it gets warmer we can take her down the coast with the top down. There’s nothing like it.” he said after sliding into his side.

“Sounds great.” Emma agreed easily, still surprised by the luxurious car she was sitting in.

Steve gave the back of Bucky’s seat an affectionate shove, “Someone likes showing off his fancy car.” 

“Says the guy who brags about his motorcycle like it’s his first born.” Bucky shot back.

“Hey, it took me years to find a restored Harley Liberator. I loved that bike back in the war and they just don’t make ‘em like they used to.” 

“It’s great, but we can’t take our girl out to dinner on your bike.” 

“Well, I could. You’d just have to stay at home.” 

Bucky shook his head when he saw Steve sticking his tongue out at him in the rear-view mirror. 

Emma bit her lip trying not to laugh, glad Steve seemed to be loosening up a little. She reached out and took his hand in hers. He looked over at her, seeming to remember she was there again, and he swallowed hard. “Hey.” she said quietly, trying to relax him a little.

“Hey.” he replied, his tone equally hushed. 

Slowly Emma got Steve to come out of his shell as they chatted quietly in the backseat. Bucky was thankful Emma had picked up on his nervousness and was willing to take the time to calm him down a little. She seemed to really get Steve and it was a blessing. Not every girl was willing to take the time and patience but Emma did it as easy as breathing. He hadn’t seen Steve so smitten right off the bat since Peggy and he hoped his instincts were right about Emma. 

Steve enjoyed watching Emma look around, drinking in all the little details of the restaurant as they were led through the dining room to a secluded booth near the back. It was a beautiful restaurant, the dim lighting shimmering off the chandeliers and playing off the deep wood tones. The tables were set far enough apart to keep the ambient noise subdued and the scent of fresh bread and herbs lingered in the air. The booths were wide, heavily padded semicircles and Steve and Bucky took advantage of their design to sit on opposite sides of Emma. 

Emma tried not to look as overwhelmed as she felt but it was a little surreal sitting between two of the most stunning men she’d ever seen, in a restaurant she could only ever dream of seeing the inside of. “How is this my life?” she murmured quietly to herself. 

Steve was sitting with Emma on the side of his good ear and he just barely caught the quiet comment to herself. Bucky’s enhanced hearing caught it easily and they shared a pleased look across her. They had wanted to give her an unforgettable night and it appeared they were succeeding. 

The waiter welcomed them back to DaVinci’s and took their drink orders, Steve ordering a bottle of wine for them to share. Emma folded her hands in her lap, still feeling a little off kilter when the sommelier stopped by to uncork their bottle. Steve sipped and nodded, prompting the man to pour their glasses. After stowing the bottle in a caddy by their table the man hurried off leaving them back in their solitude. 

“I didn’t know you were so well versed in wine.” Emma commented, sipping the rich red he had selected. 

“I’m not, really, but we’ve been to enough fancy parties to learn what words to look out for. I’d be just as happy with a bottle of two buck chuck.” 

Emma bit back a laugh, “I have a bottle at home right now. You might have to put your money where your mouth is.”

Steve shook his head, “I will drink it happily. There is nothing wrong with Trader Joe’s wine.” 

“Heathens.” Bucky interjected haughtily before sipping from his glass.

Steve raised an eyebrow at him, “Should I share the story about that time you drank bathtub gin with Danny O’Neil and got so sick your ma thought you were dyin’?” 

Bucky’s eyes widened, “I was fifteen and the only reason you didn’t drink it was because you were getting over pneumonia. Again.” 

“You were sixteen and I told you that bathtub looked dirty.”

They shared a look and both erupted into laughter. 

“I don’t want to know.” Emma said, shaking her head at them. 

The tension was relieved though and gradually conversation flowed easier. By the time their meals arrived they were talking like they would have if they were back at Matty’s. The platters in front of them were enormous and artfully presented. The restaurant clearly had two Michelin stars for a reason. Two bites into her gnocchi and Emma had decided that they could have served it on a dumpster lid and still have gotten those stars. The tiny pillows of pasta were so delicate and the lemon chive pesto brightened it so that the richness wasn’t overwhelming. It was easily the best meal she’d ever had.

Steve let out a startled squeak and she looked over just in time to see Bucky shoveling a forkful of Steve’s pasta primavera in his mouth. He chewed quickly despite Steve’s shoving at him. “He started it.” Bucky pointed at Steve with his fork.

Emma looked at Steve, waiting for him to explain.

“I took one, tiny, little piece of veal.” he admitted finally.

“And so I took a fork of his pasta.” Bucky explained without remorse.

“It was a giant forkful!” 

“I have a giant super soldier appetite.” 

Steve huffed but this was clearly a squabble they had often. 

Emma rolled her eyes at the pair of them. “I can’t take you boys anywhere…”

“Uh oh,” Bucky said kicking Steve under the table, “I think we embarrassed our date, Stevie.”

Steve sighed, playing along. “Jeez, Buck. What should we do?” 

“Drag her down with us!” 

Buck and Steve both had forks in Emma’s pasta before she could blink and she tried in vain to fend off their utensils with her own. They escaped with one gnocchi each and in her mind that was one too many. They were all giggling and stealing off each other’s plates when the waiter returned to pour them more wine and the trio did their best to look mature and not like they had just been acting like children. 

Even with Bucky’s super soldier appetite, they all had leftover boxes to take home by the end of dinner. The chef was aware of Bucky’s birthday and brought out a thick slice of tiramisu with happy birthday written around the edge of the plate in chocolate. He chatted with Bucky for a moment and Emma sat back just watching the obviously familiar exchange. The trio tucked into their dessert as soon as the chef bid them a good night and Emma wasn’t surprised it was just as good as the pasta. The tiramisu was so light that between the three of them it disappeared quickly. 

Wanting to be fair, Emma sat up front with Bucky on the way back to her apartment. He looked extremely pleased when she opted to sit there and reached over to hold her hand across the console for the entire drive. Old, gentlemanly habits dying hard, Bucky and Steve both insisted on walking Emma to her door. It was clear none of them were ready for the night to be over but Emma didn’t trust herself to invite them in. She wanted to take things slow and after such an amazing night it would be all too easy to get carried away. They stood outside her door, each holding one of her hands. 

“So, how’d we do?” Bucky teased, swinging his hand and hers a little. 

“Are you sufficiently wowed?” Steve joined in.

Emma pretended to think a moment, “I think I need another date to really form an opinion,”

“Do you now?” Bucky laughed, “Sorry to tell you this, but second dates are for pizza and Star Wars.” 

“Oh wow. That’s some bait and switch routine you got there.” Emma giggled.

“Yep, we get you all starry eyed and then, bam!, it’s all sweatpants and greasy take out.” 

Emma freed her hands and pulled Bucky close by his lapels. “I’ll take sweatpants and snuggling on the couch over fancy dinners any night.” 

“Whatever you want, baby doll.” Bucky gave her a wolfish grin before lowering his mouth to hers. Emma shuddered despite herself. His lips were firm and demanding against hers and it was difficult to not get swept away. Bucky wasn’t greedy though, he pulled back after a few moments and Emma braced her hands against the hard plane of his chest to steady herself. They both remembered Steve at the same moment and looked over to see him shifting in place with his hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets. He was trying to not be obvious with his staring but he must have seen everything with not being even two feet away. 

“Hey Stevie.” Emma said, blushing furiously and still clinging to Bucky. 

Steve’s own blush deepened. “Hey.” he replied quietly, finally glancing up. 

“See something you like?”

Steve mumbled his assent. 

“Then come here. Unless you think you need to go get beaten up first?” 

Bucky chuckled and turned Emma around by her shoulders so she had her back to his chest and was facing Steve. 

Emma reached out for Steve and pulled him to her gently. He was so shy at times, it was endearing. Once he was all but toe to toe with her, she reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. Steve looked into her eyes for a moment, asking, not demanding, before leaning in slowly. Emma let him set the pace as his lips carefully danced across hers. His kisses were reverent where Bucky’s had been commanding and the difference between the two enthralled her all over again. She loved how dissimilar they were, it made for a heady experience. Emma was the one to pull back this time, watching a broad smile spread across Steve’s face. She looked up and back to Bucky who gave her a nod of approval. 

“We’d better let our girl get some sleep.” Bucky told Steve who nodded in agreement.

“Thank you for tonight. It was… perfect.” Emma admitted honestly. 

“We aim to please.” 

They exchanged another round of quick goodbye kisses before parting finally. Inside her apartment Emma leaned against the door after closing it behind her. She was in way over her head with those two.

Bucky wrapped an arm around Steve as they headed down to the car. They were both still vibrating with happiness that the night had been a success. 

“We got so damn lucky, Buck.” Steve told him once they were in the car.

“She’s one in a million.” Bucky agreed. 

“Think we can convince her to come over tomorrow?”

“She works tomorrow night but we could go hang out at Matty’s with her.” 

Steve nodded thinking. “I thought synching up two work schedules was going to be a pain.”

“We’re gonna need a bigger calendar.” Bucky told him with a laugh. 

Steve chuckled but whipped out his phone, pulling up wall calendars on Amazon.

Tag list lovelies: @godofplumsandthunder​ @remilupin22​ @supraveng​ @hiddles-rose​

If anyone wants added or removed please lmk! 

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Of Dust and Ashes (Chapter 16)

Happy Friday! 

Clint x ofc, Series rating: M

Chapter warnings: None

So- I’m going to be traveling next week and there will be up update next week. I’ve been blessed enough to get to see Betrayal on my birthday (12/4). So while there is a chance for a Coffee update on Tuesday, there will be NO DUST on Friday next week. 

Want to buy me a coffee? I do live off of coffee. 

Check out the Masterlist for Loki, Tom Hiddleston, Steve and other Clint stories. 

Chapter 16: Home sweet home?

Deanna had forgotten how good it felt to have clean clothes. Yeah, she had done the washing in creeks and they got clean...ish. But now that was nothing compared to how good if felt to slip into a pair of sweatpants still warm from the dryer. The moan that slipped out of her was borderline pornographic.

With a fresh shirt, socks and pants on, the dirty ones went right into the wash. All in all, with the bedding included, there was a good solid four loads of laundry. But boy, once it was done everything felt and smelt amazing. It was easier to be positive, or at least as close to positive as is possible in this new world, when everything was soft and warm.  

Still, when Clint helped her back into her camper there was a weight off of her shoulders. It was as if the ghost of the family that had once inhabited the house was still there. She felt like they were watching, judging her for imposing on what should still be their home. She didn’t want to replace them. That wasn’t her goal.  

There was no questions asked when she started making dinner in the RV kitchen, carefully balancing all her weight on one foot. If she let the boot rest on the floor and avoided trying to bear weight with that foot, she could almost stand normally.

“Bed’s all made up.” Clint announced as he walked by and plopped dramatically on the couch.  

“Thanks.” The word sounded flat coming from her lips.  

Clint noticed and pulled himself to his feet and wrapped his arms around her. “Hey, you know- just because I made the bed, we don’t have to sleep in here. We can sleep in the house, in the guest bedroom, we can sleep in...” the words died.

“I’m not sleeping with you in your wife’s bed.”  

“I wasn’t going to-”

“Yeah you were. You didn’t want to but you were going to offer it anyway.” She turned in his arms awkwardly, shuffling and hopping to manage it. “It’s okay.”

“I-”

“I’m not wanting to replace her. I don’t want to sleep in her bed. I don’t- Look, I don’t know what we are doing but if you want to sleep in your own bed, that’s fine. I like not being alone but I have Trust, I don’t need you.” It was a lie and she knew it. She needed him more than she cared to admit to anyone, to herself.

“But... I think I need you.” Clint admitted what she could not, resting his forehead against hers. “And it’s wrong but.. I think I need someone to need me too. But I won’t sabotage you to make you need me-”

“Clint, I do-” He talked over her, wanting to get the words out before the will to speak them was gone. She had no choice but to swallow her backpedaling.

“When your foot is healed, I won’t force you to stay with me. I won’t do anything to make you need me. But maybe… you’ll need me the same way I need you.”  

“What way do you need me? I’m just a burden.”  

“You’re not. I need someone to rely on me. Let me have that, at least for now? And-” Clint looked out at the farmhouse through the window then closed his eyes. It was so much easier to focus on her. “If when you’re healed you want to go, you can. But if you don’t, that’s fine. Or if you do but want me to go with, that’s fine too.”

“Clint?”

“I’m over thinking, I know. Just- how about this? Let’s stay in here. Unless you don’t want me to stay with you? We can use the well and I can rig something up for the gray water to drain into the septic and-”

“One day at a time.” She took a shaking breath before starting. “I don’t know what we’re doing. What we are. Let’s just take it one day at a time? I- I don’t want to sleep in there. I like it in here. I would rather you stay in here with me but that is your home, you can sleep where you want.”

Clint reached around her, turning the stove off and moving the pan onto the other burner. No one liked overcooked chicken. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

That’s all it took for the topic to settle itself. They found themselves into a routine of sorts. Each day was peaceful and blended into the other. Clint would be the first to wake and would sneak out of bed to start the coffee. Somehow, she would sleep through this and him climbing back into the bed.  

They took turns making breakfasts, much to Deanna’s dismay. She wanted to do as much as she could for him and every time she would try to do more than Clint thought was fair, he would smile and argue. More often than not, he could outlast her.  

He would tend her garden as her ankle healed. It was rare that she ventured into the farmhouse. Mainly, she would hobble inside to shower or wash dishes, not wanting to fill her tank with dirty water any faster than needed.  

As the first week came to a close, Clint had rigged up a drain from the RV’s gray water tank into his septic system. He was far more proud of the simple set up than he she expected. A hose was secured over the drain pipe and running along the ground to the drain in the shop. While she looked on, he made a show of turning the valve open and standing back with his arms wide.  

“How do I know it works?” She asked.  

“I… I can show you the tank, if you want to see it? I mean- it’s not-”

“No thank you.” While she had been a mother and changed plenty of diapers, the idea of looking at a tank full of mostly human waste wasn’t high on her list of things she wanted to do with her day.

The next day he set to work hooking the garden hose up to the fresh water tank. Just like that, Deanna’s home on wheels was connected to the water and septic system. Running from the RV to the house sat the brightly colored hoses with the extension cord providing power to the RV from the farmhouse’s generator.  

The second week bled into the third as her ankle began to heal. Soon she was hobbling easier and feeling more at peace in her place at the farm. Clint was dutiful in taking the laundry inside for washing and returning the to the RV, warm and dry.

The trees were beginning to turn as September began to roll passed them, not that they were paying the passage of time any mind. They were too busy harvesting produce and strengthening her healing ankle. Clint had painted a target to the back of the shed and as soon as she could stand on her healing ankle, he had her outside and learning to shoot arrows.  

She wasn’t really very good at it. Terrible at first and if she was forced to tell the truth, she hated it. It took a week to get an arrow to do anything more than fall at her feet let alone hit the barn. Actually managing to hit the target seemed like a distant dream. Still, Clint seemed to enjoy teaching her more than she enjoyed learning. If it meant keeping that smile on his face, she would suffer through lesson after lesson.  

While she didn’t see the point in learning to shoot the arrow, she had to admit her arms were getting stronger, drawing the string back again and again. It wasn’t much, but after the second week of lessons, the string was easier to draw back, just in time for Clint to replace the bow with one even harder to pull.

Turns out, the one he had her using at first was designed for older children. When Clint told her, she was half tempted to smack him with the bow. She didn’t resort to violence purely because she was pretty sure if she had started with the bow she was using now, she wouldn’t have been able to draw the string back.  

As time passed, she was better able to walk and with that came the freedom to do more for herself. She would bring the laundry into the house and do the washing every few days while he went out to hunt. It was strange, being in the farmhouse while he was gone and she never lingered inside.  

One day, Clint returned earlier than she had expected and was far too proud of himself for her to not have questions. In the back of the truck he had acquired in one of the nearby towns, was a carcass of a deer. There is a flurry of angry squawking from the truck and on a trailer pulled behind, a stack of boxes.  

“What the hell?” Deanna could only laugh, standing on the pouch watching Clint climb out of the truck.  

“Guess what, Babe?” Deanna watched on as he scurried around the front of the truck with a wide grin on his face. Opening the door to the passenger and back seats, he revealed three cages with relativity angry looking chickens inside. “I found a farm about fifty miles to the south and he had chickens!”

“How did you convince him to give you chickens?” Deanna laughed as the birds protested to their cages being moved but it did nothing to take the pride from Clint’s face.  

“So- Jesus these guys are kinda heavy- You know how I take a few bottles of pills with me when I go out hunting? Shit- ow, Tony, don’t bite!”

“You named a chicken Tony?” She deadpanned, watching as he stacked cages on the ground.  

“Yeah! I mean, I didn’t, he was already named but I’m not changing it. And Tony’s a rooster.”  

“I’m not killing chickens.”

“We’re not! I mean, not all of them at least. The hens are egg layers. If Tony’s naughty we can eat him.”  

“Where are we going to keep them?”

“I’ve got a plan, Babe. Don’t you worry.”  

“Mhm.” Deanna hummed as Clint swept up the deck stairs and wrapped his arms around her. His hands were cold and his nose was a bit red with the chill in the air. They shared a quick kiss before Clint jogged back down the stairs and around the trailer.  

Deanna left him to his task and carried the laundry back inside the RV. There was a chill in the air that kept her running the electric heater most of the time now. She wasn’t even aware that there was an electric heater in the RV until recently. She thought all she had was the propane heater but that was just one of the ways Clint had saved her.  

Humming, she set to work making a pot of coffee. It was only a matter of time before they ran out of grounds. Clint was having to travel farther and farther from the farm to find supplies. For now at least, with the chill in the air and Clint clearly having a long day of hard work ahead of him- he deserved a cup of coffee.  

While the pot brewed, she watched from the kitchen window as Clint wrestled the deer out of the truck. He had already gutted it and for that, she was thankful. It wasn’t something she wanted to watch him do. After running into the farmhouse, Clint returned and made short work out of carving the meat.

While he worked, Deanna pulled out a pot and set to work cooking rice. It was something she was doing more and more. One of these days, she planned to go out with Clint and try to find a rice cooker or instant pot. Something like that, that she could use to make some easier meals. Since they had access to electricity, why not make use of it?

While the oven heated, she grabbed out some snap peas and tossed a few small handfuls onto the baking sheet that she balanced over the sink. It would have been easier to cook inside the farmhouse but she couldn’t stomach the idea, even now. She wasn't sure she would ever be able to cook in Laura's kitchen.

She grabbed some broccoli and tossed a cutting board onto the dinette table behind her. Once she cut the heads down to smaller bits, she tossed them onto the pan as well. Next went a handful of cherry tomatoes. A quick toss with olive oil, salt and pepper and she slipped the baking sheet into the small oven.  

When she next looked outside, Clint had the deer skinned and dismantled. Most of the meat was already inside the farmhouse for storage. It would be good to have meat- they had almost run out and were making what they had stretch. Clint would supplement by hunting wild grouse but they were not very meaty birds.

By the time the vegetables were tender and the rice had finished cooking, Clint had almost gotten everything off the trailer. She made up two bowls and two mugs of coffee and slowly worked her way outside.

The cool weather made her healing ankle feel stiff and she still favored it. He told her it wouldn't be much longer at all until it finished healing.

“What’s all that?” She asked, coming up to his side. There was an ache in her ankle that was telling her that she really needed to sit down and call it a day soon. At least she had accomplished something today.  

“Chicken coop.” Clint twisted his back and the sound of cracking filled the air.  

“Backs aren’t supposed to do that.” Deanna joked, holding out the two mugs, carefully held in one hand.  

“Babe, did you make me coffee?!” Cling moaned, taking both mugs and setting them on the trailer.  

“And lunch too.”  

“What did I do to deserve such treatment?” He smiled, taking to bowls and sitting on the trailer.

“Brought meat,” She said. “and chickens too. We needed meat.”

“Yeah, noticed we were running low.”

They ate in silence for a bit, each thinking of how strange it was to be here. Not really here, in this physical place in Missouri but here. Building up a self sufficient farm with someone who had been a stranger not very long ago at all. They were figuring their path out. While they supported each other, they were making small steps toward moving on.  

Clint leaned to the side, fishing the small satellite phone he carried but rarely used out of his pocket. “Can you put this on the charger for me when you go inside? I need to check in with Nat before she sends a search party for me.”  

Deanna nodded, “Sure.”  

“Now! Time to show this chicken coop who’s boss!” He stood and stretched, arms reaching toward the bright midday sun and shirt riding up some. “We’ll have eggs before you know it.”  

“I’m holding you too that or Tony’s going to be a Thanksgiving turkey.” Deanna laughed.  

“Oh!” Clint turned, wide smile on his face. She wondered why he always felt the need to put on a jovial show. It was okay for him to not smile during the day. He didn’t have to hide his pain until night, not with her. “I saw some wild turkeys! Gonna try to get one for us.”

Deanna sat in the sun, watching Clint work for a bit. It didn’t take long for him to wrestle his shirt off as he hauled boxes and polls off the trailer. It was mesmerizing, watching him work in the sun. With skill and precision, he set about building the coop. Power tools whirled to life in his hands as Clint Barton demonstrated that he was so much more than just a sharp shooter.  

It was nearly sun down when Clint had the coop finished and the large fence circling it erected. The door latched and locked. Dinner was simmering inside as Clint spread hay along the ground.  

Deanna watched from the window over the sink as she stirred the large pot. It would be lunch tomorrow as well. The stew wasn’t very good on it’s own but she had done what she could to perk it up, adding extra carrots, celery and tossing in a small handful of herbs.

In the oven, a small loaf of bread cooked in a silicone loaf pan that Clint had brought home a week prior. Before that, she'd been struggling with a old loaf pan of Laura's. It took more than a few tries, but she could almost make a decent loaf of bread now.  

The first few batches she made turned out terrible. So bad that they were sitting in the fridge inside the farmhouse. Clint said it would make some nice supplement for the chicken food at least. A few days ago, she managed to get a loaf to come out tasting right.

Clint showered her in praise that night but it was short lived. Tears had rather unexpectedly gathered in her eyes and before she had a chance to even process why, she was sobbing. Clint was quick and held her tightly in his arms as she wept into his chest.  

It was a dumb thing to cry over but he hushed her when she said it. The bread stuck to the pan and while it finally came out of the oven looking and smelling right, it didn’t come out of the pan. They had to break it apart and eat it in pieces- there wasn’t another option.  

As Deanna pulled the newest loaf out of oven and sat it on the covered sink to cool. It would pop right out of the new pan without any effort. No more sticking loafs.

The phone on the counter pinged. It was so rare that it ever made noise. In a moment that felt so strangely normal, she picked it up and looked at the notification on the screen.

“Message Received” It read. Below the title, it read “Nat: Will you please let me know you’re okay?”  

In a moment, the message faded from the screen. Before she could set the phone down, her eyes were drawn to the date displayed where the message had been. November 7th.

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @usedtobegoodfriend96, @winterisakiller, @tnystrk-exe, @0-0-0-0-0-0-0-7, @theoneanna, @alexakeyloveloki, @toozmanykids, @j-u-s-t-4, @missaphrodite23, @bambamwolf87, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @carissime72, @xoxabs88xox, @queenoftheunderdark, @myoxisbroken, @wegingerangelica, @coyotesongwriting

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[artificialqueens]

Houroubing to Aruba, Chapter 3, (Branjie) - Blackhighheels

(Read at AO3)

Chapter 3: The ballgame

It is shortly before ten when Jose finally stirs. Brock has been replying to emails, checking up on social media and just surfing the net on his phone for the last hour and a half.

“What you doin’?” Jose mumbles, his eyes barely open.

“Just taking care of some things, reading emails.” Brock isn’t surprised when his boyfriend takes the phone out of his hand, throws it to the foot of the bed and places his head on his chest. His eyes close again. “You wanna go back to sleep or you up for some breakfast?” Brock runs his hands over Jose’s back, rubbing it lightly.

“You hungry?”

“Mmmh, slowly getting there.” Just then Brock’s stomach rumbles and Jose opens his eyes.

“Fine, let’s get up before you starve to death and everybody will think it’s my fault. All them cat owning lesbians will hunt me down.” Jose climbs over him to get out of bed and Brock uses the opportunity to pat his butt. “You better stop,” Jose warns him with a smile and a wink before he walks out of the room. “Lord, what did I drink last night? I have to pee so bad, I  might be dripping and dropping all over the floor already. My bladder feels like it’s the size of a fucking water-melon. Fuck…hope this toilet is built correct and you said all your prayers, ‘cause we might have the flood upon us.”

Brock titters as he gets out of bed, used to the stream-of-consciousness kind of talking Jose does on the regular, when it’s just the two of them. He loves that he has no filter and stopped censoring himself a while ago. Not only does it provide Brock with countless hours of entertainment, but it also gives him a very clear view into his man’s mind - even though peeing might not be the topic he would have chosen.

After getting ready, they make their way down to breakfast and fall into the usual routine they’ve developed while touring together: Jose gets fruits and vegetables, Brock is responsible for yoghurt, porridge, scrambled eggs and bread. Whoever is back at the table first gets coffee and juice.

They choose a table outside on the terrace which has a view of the beach. The table is in the shade, so they can eat without getting roasted by the sun. It’s really warm already and Brock sighs in relief when he sits down in his cool chair. Even the wide tank top and shorts he’s wearing feel like too much clothing.

He looks around and notices that there is just one other couple sitting a few tables to the right, since breakfast ends at eleven and most other guests are already by the pool or at the beach.

“They have a barista here to make our cappuccino right. None of the machine crap.” Jose lets him know and points to the cup. There’s a palm tree painted into the milk foam of Jose’s cup and a heart in his. It’s whimsical, typically Jose and it makes him smile.

“It’s really amazing here. Feels a bit like a dream.”

“Did you sleep alright?” Jose asks him then.

“Yeah, until like eight, maybe? Longer than I’ve slept in a while. You?”

“I think I was up around four and got up to close the blinds.”

“The moon taunting you again?” Brock smiles knowingly.

“I must be half werewolf, I’m telling ya. Full moon and I’m up for no reason in the middle of the night.” Jose rubs one hand over the stubble on his cheeks “Would explain all this, too.”

“Don’t you always say your hair grows so fast because you’re Puerto Rican?”

“Might be lyin'… sneaky cover up and all.”

They fall silent for a moment, just eating and watching their surroundings. “So, what’s the plan for today?” Brock finally asks.

“Plan?”

“I thought you arranged it all with Henry?”

“Not really. He gave me a list of stuff we could do, if we want to, but I didn’t sign us up for nothing today. Thought maybe we just chill on the beach or by the pool? We can take a look at our options later and see what we wanna do the other days and then let Henry know?” Jose adjusts the black baseball hat he is wearing, the right way for once, and takes the sunglasses off.

“Sounds good,” Brock nods and gets distracted by his vibrating phone. It’s a text message from a booker in London and he quickly reads it.

“Hey, Brock?” Jose sounds a bit hesitant.

“Mmh?” he asks and quickly checks his calendar, so he can reply to the message.

“I think maybe we should talk about the phone and social media stuff now?”

“Just a second…” He quickly types out his answer, sends a copy of it to Steve and then puts his phone down. “What? Phone and social media stuff?” He’s lost and doesn’t really know what Jose means.

“You know, if and what we post and what rules we should have for the use of our phones while we’re here. We’ve never really decided on anything, just started talking about it and then dropped it 'cause we were too busy.”

“Oh, ok. I didn’t know we needed rules for our cellphone use, like we’re ten or something.” Brock wrinkles his nose, but the look on Jose’s face gives him pause. “Sorry,” he says quickly, realising this is not the time for flippant replies.

“No, it… I just… I don’t wanna fight. If you think it’s silly…”

“Jose, no, you’re right.” He needs to intervene and stop Jose from agreeing to everything and bending to his wishes during this trip, simply because he wants it to be perfect. It happened yesterday at the airport and again just now. “What do you think we should do?”

“I don’t really know. I’m not sure… so, don’t take this as a rule or nothin’, okay?”

“I’ll be your sounding board, just go ahead.”

“I know we can’t just vanish on the gram for like three weeks. You know, we have to feed the children or they’ll riot. But I don’t know, if I want pics from this trip to show up online: A. I don’t want no geo tags on nothing, so they don’t know where we at, 'cause some stalker ass is always close by and B. I wanna have this for us. If we take crappy pictures with fucked up lighting that we keep to remember this trip by, then that’s our business. I want no opinions or comments on how cute we look, or how we need to work out more, or if these fuckers like our outfits. When I went to Australia with Matt, no one knew shit and that was real cool. But I also don’t want you to think I’m hiding or holding back or some fucked up shit like that, like with the video.” Jose speaks calmly, but Brock can tell that it’s very important to him. “And while we at it, I think we shouldn’t work while we here. We both crazy and will get sucked in and I don’t want us to spend all the time checking mails and replying to texts on the phone, especially your micro-managing ass. We have assistants, they can take care of it for three weeks and when it’s real important they’ll call, right? Meanwhile, we can concentrate on each other.”

Brock takes a deep breath, because only the thought of being out of the loop for three weeks might send him straight into an anxiety attack. Jose takes his hand and moves his chair closer in silent support. Brock thinks about it, weighs his options and mulls over what Jose just said.

“I’ll let Steve know that he should filter the emails for me and put the really important stuff into a separate folder, so I can just ignore the rest. Give me like, an hour a day?” he offers.

“Twenty minutes?”

“Forty?”

“Deal.” Jose gives his hand a squeeze.

“As for social media: I think we should tell Tammy and Courtney to, like,  post old pics and announcements for upcoming gigs, so we don’t vanish? Maybe they could also repost some stuff? Art we are tagged in or something? You’re right we shouldn’t worry about taking pictures for insta or about comments. We’re here for us. If we wanna share something we’ll decide spontaneously, ok?”

“Sounds good, toes.” Jose’s smile is wide and Brock knows they’ve made the right decision.

“But I think we should maybe call Andrew, Steve and your mom and let them know we’ve arrived safely and tell them what we’ve come up with so they don’t start worrying.”

“And then we go into flight mode and haul our asses to the beach to chillax and get a tan on?”

“Absolutely.” They seal the deal with a quick peck, chuckle when Jose’s hat nearly falls off as Brock bumps against it. “So, what do you say: Is it a swimming shorts or briefs kind of day?”

“With your white ass, it might be better to go with the trunks, otherwise you’ll burn the goods on the first day, which would be a shame. And you just bought new trunks. The Ralph Lauren ones look pretty fresh.”

“The Ralph Lauren ones it is,” Brock agrees and keeps Jose’s hand in his as they get up to go back to their room and get ready for the beach.

***

“You think Andrew’ll still be alive when we get back?” Jose asks as he spreads his towel out on the lounge bed of their beach cabana. He ist still chuckling because Brock just told him about the phone call he had with Andrew.

“I can’t believe both Henry and Apollo have already bit him.” Brock can’t help but laugh about it again.

“Told you, you spoil them kitty cats too much.They ain’t listening to shit you say. Why would they listen to Miss Nina, who thinks she’s Cinderella and they’ll dance and sing songs with her while she makes the bed?”

“But I’m their mommy,” Brock pouts, knowing full well that Jose is right.

“You definitely are, but one of those moms who always say: 'Wait until daddy gets home!’” Jose continues teasing him and sits down.

“I still don’t know how you stopped them from sleeping in our bed.”

“Girl, I kicked their furry butts out, that’s how. You can cuddle them all you want on the couch, but I never want to find no vomit fur balls in my bed, ever again.” He shudders at the memory and Brock laughs, when he remembers the incident. Jose’s screams of terror so loud, he thought he’d been attacked or something. “Can you do me?”

Brock snorts at the request. “Here? In public?” he fakes outrage.

“Stop playin’. You know I’m talking about the sun lotion,” Jose smirks and holds up the bottle he just dug out of his bag.

“Only if you 'do me’ next.” Brock takes the bottle from him and sits down behind him. He squirts the lotion on Jose’s shoulders then starts applying it and rubs it in all over his back.

“You better watch them fingers, perv,” Jose says when he swipes his hands underneath the hem of his trunks.

“As if you’d really say no,” Brock whispers in his ear and bites it gently, but takes his hands out of Jose’s pants.

“I don’t know which adult plus gay resort you used to spend your vacations at, but here at this gay friendly but very straight-people beach, shit like this will get us thrown out. So you better channel your very christian upbringing and manners, cause, bitch, I will not be kicked out of this resort, because you decide to finger me first opportunity on the beach,” Jose rants and Brock cackles when he hears his words. He really hopes no one is close by to overhear them.

“And you pretend to be a good catholic boy?”

“Don’t have to pretend. I am!” He gives him an exaggerated fake Vanjie smile, that shows all of his white teeth. “And now lay down on your stomach like a good little gay boy, so I can get the sun block on you, so you not you roasting and toasting.” Jose doesn’t simply rub the lotion in, he gives him a really good massage and by the end of it Brock is so relaxed he’s nearly asleep. “There you go,” Jose says when he’s done and presses a kiss to the back of his head, before he climbs over him once more and flops down beside him. He crosses his arms behind his head and looks around. “What do you think their stories are?"

"Huh?” Brock turns around so he can see what Jose sees.

“The other couples. What do you think their stories are? Like, why are they here?”

“I don’t know. Like, vacation or honeymoon maybe?”

“Honeymoon? These two over there haven’t spoken a single word to each other since we’ve gotten here and he stares at every ass walking by. If this is their honeymoon, she’ll better have the divorce papers ready.” Jose is talking about a couple that’s maybe in their early forties and lying a bit further down on the beach on the normal sun chairs. She keeps flipping through her phone while he ogles the other women at the beach.

“Maybe they’re not a couple?”

“They’re wearing matching wedding bands.” Of course Jose would zoom in on details like this.

“Then I’m out. But maybe we’ll find out while we’re here?”

“Maybe. If we ever get like this, boo, even Laurie might not be able to save us.”

“We won’t. I mean, you just limited my cellphone time and I’d be scared for my balls if you caught me ogling anyone like this. He’s not really subtle.”

“You’d better be, cause I’d go all Lorena on ya, but wouldn’t tell anyone where to find the parts!” Jose confirms. “But hey, maybe they have one of these open relationship things and he’s just looking for prey?”

“Honestly, as long as he keeps his paws off you, I don’t give a fuck.” Brock decides to end the speculations that Jose can get lost in.

“It’s cute when you all jealous and possessive.” Jose leans over and kisses him like it’s the biggest compliment ever. Brock has to admit, that since they got back together not only is he not missing his freedom at all, but also he has become what he’d earlier would have called “clingy”. He’s just lucky that Jose is totally into it. “You wanna go swimming?” Jose accepts the topic change.

“Not right now. Your massage nearly put me to sleep.” A wide yawn follows his words.

“Want me to put you to sleep?” Jose offers and wiggles his fingers. Sometimes when Brock has trouble sleeping, Jose makes him curl up to him and rubs his back until he relaxes and falls asleep. Usually it works.

“It’s too hot, papi. I’d be dripping sweat all over your shoulder.”

Jose guffaws. “That’s not the only thing you’re dripping all over me on the regular.”

Brock just rolls onto his side, so he is facing his boyfriend and moves a bit closer. “Just be quiet and let me nap,” he counters, but takes his hand and places a kiss on Jose’s palm and then licks it, before he closes his eyes.

***

“You wanna go swimming now?” Jose asks as soon as he realises that Brock is awake again. Brock stretches lazily, nods and sits up. Jose basically jumps off the bed.

“Help me up?” Brock requests and holds out his hands.

“Sure, grandpa.” Jose pulls him up and leads the way to the water. Brock watches him as he carefully dips his toes in, then walks in a bit further.

His boyfriend really is beautiful and not only because he’s in great shape, Brock muses, lost in thoughts. It’s the way he carries himself, wears his heart on his sleeve, his bronze skin, the hair that’s always falling into his face because it’s just a bit too long. His strong legs, tiny waist and delicious ass - even in swim trunks. And it’s also the way he fits right under Brock’s arm, how he loves to snuggle with him, how he makes him laugh and how he can communicate with just one look how much he loves Brock in return. “It not too bad,” is Jose’s verdict, before he jumps in and lands in the ocean with a loud splash that leaves Brock dripping wet.

“Oh wait, you little shit!” he threatens and jumps in after Jose, but his boyfriend is faster in the water than Brock thought. While he never really mastered how to do the crawl, Jose surely knows how and uses it to his advantage to get away from Brock.

“Haha! You can’t get me, grandpa!” he screams and splashes more water in his direction with both hands.

“No, but I can wait you out!” Brock yells back and keeps treading water and tries to find a moment to counter attack, but Jose is simply too fast. He decides to go back to where he can stand. As soon as his feet touch the ground, he turns around to keep an eye on Jose, but he can’t see him anymore. How far can he swim in just a couple of seconds? Suddenly something pops out from under the water behind him and a second later Jose has jumped on his back. Narrowly Brock avoids falling and Jose’s boisterous laughter is ringing in his ears.

“Gotcha!"

Brock wraps his arms around Jo’s legs and holds him there, basically giving him a piggyback ride. "I think I got you, papi.” Jose’s arms tighten around his neck as he adjusts his position. A second later he leans forward and places a kiss on Brock’s cheek. When he turns his head, another kiss follows, on the lips this time.

“You taste like salt,” Jose states and smacks and licks his lips when he pulls back.

“So do you.” Brock walks them further into the sea again and dips down so only their heads are above the water. “I didn’t know you were that good a swimmer.”

“I told you. You should have believed me.”

“Ever took lessons or were in a club at school or something?”

“No, but my brother used to take me to the beach with him when we were younger. All of his friends were there and they always thought it was fun to throw the little brother around in the water like a football, or see how long I could hold my breath. I had to be faster than them to get away.” Jose tells the story like it’s a fond memory, and maybe in some ways it is, but Brock has enough knowledge to understand that Jose didn’t have too much fun back then and was scrambling for his older brother’s attention without getting it in a positive way.

“I’m surprised your mom let you go with them if that’s what was going on.”

“Mom never found out. I never told her, 'cause we would have had to stay home all day while she was working.” Brock lets go off Jose’s legs and pulls him to his front instead. Jo’s legs are now wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t know why, but every time Jose talks about his childhood, all he wants to do is shower him with love and affection to make it all better. His lips find Jose’s again and he kisses him gently, but with enough heat so Jose makes these little noises in the back of his throat that Brock loves so much. It’s a wave crashing into them that makes them break apart after a while and they both start laughing.

“Let’s get out and get dry. Then we can take a look at the list Henry gave you,” Brock suggests as they wade towards the beach. A group of people, mostly guys, is standing there, talking about something and they all turn towards them when get out of the water. Brock hopes they don’t recognise them.

“Hey,” one of the guys calls out as a greeting.

“Hey,” Brock replies and wants to keep walking towards their cabana, but Jose is already en route to them, always one for socialising even with large crowds of complete strangers.

“You’re new right?”

“Yeah, we got here yesterday. I’m Jose, this is Brock,” he introduces them.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Bill.” The guy who is talking shakes Jose’s hand and claps him on the back, while Brock remains standing slightly behind him. “We were wondering if you’d join us playing volleyball. We really need some more people.”

“Of course, I’m game,” Jose agrees before Brock can stop him, because, really, playing a ball game he sucks at with a bunch of strangers is the last thing he wants to do. Also, they have plans, right? They wanted to see what romantic things they could do over the next days, just the two of them. “Brock, you too, right?” Jose turns around to him.

“I think I’ll sit this one out,” he tells him and some of the guys grumble and try and encourage him to join in.

“Come one! You sure?”

“Yeah… uh, you’re sure you wanna play with you knee and all?” he tries to talk him out of it without being too obvious.

“My knee’s fine,” Jose shrugs. “See you in a few?"

"Yeah,” Brock nods and walks off to the cabana. He can see and hear them perfectly from where he is sitting, wrapped in his towel.

They quickly form two teams and start the game. Jose isn’t half bad, but every time he misses the ball he pretends he is the worst player ever. In no time he has all of them cheering him on and laughing about everything he does or says. He weirdly fits in with these straight men, jocks, and banker-types, who have all come together to play volleyball but instead have fallen under the spell of Vanjie without knowing it. Bock watches it with fascination and envies his boyfriend for a second. He wishes he was that charismatic and engaging in social situations. Jose lives and breathes entertaining crowds of strangers, while it gives Brock anxiety. He wishes he could be there and play as well, get some of Jose’s attention and jokes directed at him, but knows he would be all awkward and would quickly become the guy no one wants on the team.

They all love Jose and they all have Jose’s attention as he makes them laugh, makes them cheer him on, makes them feel like they’re his buddies.

His good mood fades more and more, the longer he watches the game. He doesn’t want to analyse what he’s feeling and finally lies back and closes his eyes. He can still hear them, can hear Jose’s happy laughter and hilarious comments, neither of which are directed at him.

“Hey, you asleep?” Jose pants a while later, standing beside him in the sand, completely dripping wet.

“You done?”

“Nah, half-time. We just went to cool off in the sea for a second.” Brock knows Jose is observing him closely, even though he can barely see it, because he is blinking against the sun. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Why you saying it like that?” Jose’s eyes narrow further behind his shades, Brock can tell just by his tone.

“I’m not saying it 'like that’. I’m just doing nothing.” He knows he is pouting, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. “Why don’t you go back to your game and let me get back to my doing nothing,” he suggest and closes his eyes again.

“Get up!” Jose suddenly sounds like his mother when she’s pissed, a latin accent even comes through.

“What?” he opens his eyes again.

“Now, white boy,” Jose orders and waits until Brock is standing beside the bed. Then he kicks Brock’s flips flops towards him and puts on his own, before he drags him off by his wrist.

“Hey, what are you doing? Let go of me! Where are we going?” Brock complains and tries to free his arm, but Jose just keeps dragging him through the resort until they reach their penthouse. Jose unlocks the door, drags him in and pulls out a chair from the table in the living room and places it in the middle of the room.

“Sit!” he orders and Brock is so dumbfounded he complies. “Talk!”

“What?” he crosses his arms in front of his chest and plays dumb while Jose glares down on him. His refusal makes Jose take a deep breath and he pulls out a chair for himself.

His voice is softer when he speaks again, just a bit. “Tell me what got your trunks in a twist. We done playin’, Brock! No drama on this fucking vacation! Just spit it out.”

“I thought we were making plans for all the romantic stuff and then you go off and play volleyball with all these guys.”

“You could have played with us.”

“I suck at all sports involving a ball and they would have just laughed about me.”

“You an idiot, Brock.” Jose sighs loudly. “A pouting, jealous idiot.” He gets off his chair and walks over to him. “Get up,” he says, but there is no more authority in his voice. He sounds a little bit amused, which rubs Brock the wrong way.

“You just told me to sit down!”

“Bitch, really?” Jose sniggers and raises one eyebrow. Brock knows he is acting ridiculous, he doesn’t need Jose to rub it in. As soon as Brock stands, Jose is on his knees in front of him, pulls down his swimming trunks and sucks his dick into his mouth.

“Jo, what the fuck?” Brock exclaims in surprise, but the hand that flies to Jose’s head and tangles in his wet hair is certainly not pulling him off.

“You need some attention, 'cause you’re being a jealous little whiny bitch, and I wanna suck your dick, because…do I really need a reason?” He shrugs. “Any problem with that?” He licks his cock like it’s a popsicle and Brock is sure his eyes roll into the back of his head. He moans.

“None, your honour,” Brock says when he finds his voice again.

“Then shut up and hold on tight.” With these words Jose goes down on him again. He starts slow, licks his shaft and his balls and focusses on the head for a while. Then he takes him deep, even gags one time, then continues, bops his head fast and sucks like he’s starving. It’s truly ridiculous how fast Jose has him going from being limp and jealous to coming down his throat with a loud groan.

“You really are fucking crazy,” Brock chuckles as he helps Jose stand up and pulls him against him.

“Do you feel better or not?” Jose’s hands find their way to his naked butt.

“I do. Thank you.” He kisses him deeply and gets a thrill out of the fact that he can taste himself on Jose’s lips. Take that you damn volleyball players!

“You ready to go back down and stop the drama or you wanna stay here and pout some more?” Jose is back to teasing him, which is a good sign.

“How about I return the favour first?” He cups his crotch through his wet swimming trunks and unsurprisingly finds him half hard.

“No! First you gotta earn it by playing some volleyball with me and the guys and then we gonna tackle the damn list, so the romance is back on.”

“Fine, but I might need a snack in between. I’m getting hungry.”

“I’m the snack!” Jose points out and pulls Brock’s shorts back up.

“You are, but you’re not letting me suck you off.”

“Come on, you attention whore, maybe Imma feel more giving later.” Brock smiles when he gets another kiss before they leave their penthouse. Jose stops him again just before they reach the others on the beach. “Oh and just so you know: There’s a ballgame, where it’s really good  when you suck!” His wiggling eyebrows make Brock chortle and forget about his anxiety about being faced with a group of strangers and having to play a game with them. They both learn that day that Brock likes volleyball and isn’t bad at it at all.

***

After cooling off once the game is done, they pack their things and make their way back to the terrace by the restaurant. While drinks were served on the beach, they needed something to eat, because dinner was still hours away.

“Hello gentlemen, what can I get you?” It’s Henry who shows up to take their order

“Henry, hi. You being a waiter today?” Jose asks him happily.

“I simply saw you coming up and decided to check in on you. I hope everything is satisfactory?”

“Everything is amazing, thank you,” Brock replies.

“We gonna make the romance plans now and then let you know, ok?”

“Very well. What can I do for you meanwhile?”

“Can you get us a large bottle of non-sparkling water and two salads with tuna and garlic bread?” Brock orders.

“Make that two bottles of water. I feel like I’m drying up from the inside out,” Jose supplies.

“Thank you and see you later.”

“Bye Henry,” Brock tells him and waits until he’s gone before he speaks again. “You think he’s spying on us? That was kind of creepy.”

“Maybe he ordered the Vanjie tracking device when he heard we were coming,” Jose jokes and leans in conspiratorially. Brock decides not to go on with this topic, because if Jose is already opening with this statement, only god knows what will come out of his mouth next.

He pecks his lips and changes the topic. “So where is the famous romance list?” Jose digs through their bag and hands it to Brock just as their drinks arrive. “You know if you wanna do something sporty or with a group?”

“I think we had enough group and sport action today. Send you right into a jealous fit. How about just the two of us? Something relaxing?” Jose changes his sunglasses for another pair, so he can read along. The lenses in the stylish other pair are great for everything except reading, because they are designed to fix Jose’s myopia.

“Tomorrow evening is the movie night under the stars. They’re showing 'Notting Hill’, but that’s with a group, I guess,” Brock thinks out loud.

“We could maybe do the picnic in the afternoon and go to the movie night after dinner. If we still feeling like being alone, I don’t think anyone will care,” Jose suggests.

“Sounds good. Should we plan the rest of the week already or you wanna be more spontaneous?”

“We could maybe do the segway tour the day after?"

Brock immediately shakes his head forcefully. "No! No way you are doing a segway tour. I saw you once on a scooter and on ski, uh-uh, ain’t happening.” His words only make Jose chuckle.

“Fine. How about this hike? Seeing the best places of Aruba and go snorkelling in between doesn’t sound too bad.”

“I like it,” Brock agrees, because he really wants to see a bit of the island and not only the resort.

“We really good at this shit now,” Jose points out.

“Planing trips together?” Brock asks just as Henry comes back with their salads.

“Talking, toes. But sure, planing, too.”

“Have you found something?” Henry asks them after placing their food in front of them.

“Yes, we’d love to go on a picnic tomorrow around noon and then join in on the movie night. And the day after, the hike with the snorkelling sounds really great,” Brock lets him know, while Jose is already devouring his salad.

“Of course. Do you have any special requests for picnic stops? By the beach, in town?”

“No, just surprise us, we trust you.” Brock shrugs and Henry leaves them alone again.

“Look at you being all spontaneous all of a sudden,” Jose points out.

“I can be spontaneous.”

“Good, but swallow before you talk or Imma tell your mama,” Jose laughs when salad nearly falls out of Brock’s mouth.

“And apparently I can be very sexy, too,” he laughs about his own mishap.

“Wanna spend the rest of the day being sexy by the pool before we have to get ready for dinner?” Jose asks him, still sniggering. Brock agrees, and once more they have a plan.

***

After dinner that night they go back out on the restaurant terrace and order themselves some gin tonic. Their table is on the edge of the terrace and so it takes a while when more and more couples come out, until someone comes up to them.

“We’re sorry, but may we join you? All the other seats are taken.” A tall woman, maybe in her sixties, with bright blue eyes and white hair, asks them. Her tan skin makes her eyes even more striking, even in the near darkness.

“Yes, of course, please do,” Brock nods and Jose even gets up and pulls the chair out for her.

“Oh thank you, darling. I’m Margaret and this is my husband Magnus,” she introduces them and they all shake hands as Brock and Jose introduce themselves.

“Jose? You’re Spanish?” she asks.

“Puerto Rican, but I live in LA now.”

“And you, Brock?” her husband asks. He is also tall, a bit on the heavy side and looks like Santa Claus, Brock thinks.

“I’m originally from Canada, but I live in L.A. now, too. And where are you from? I think I hear a bit of an accent.”

“And he should know about having an accent,” Jose teases him.

“We’re from Sweden.”

“Oh how nice!” Brock gushes. “I’m like a quarter Swedish or something and I’ve been to Stockholm a while ago. You live there?”

“No,” Magnus laughs about Brock’s enthusiasm. “We’re from a very small town up north. Just three hundred inhabitants.”

“Up north? Like at the north pole?” Jose asks and waves for the waiter.

“No, that’s even further north,” Margaret smiles.

“But it real cold there, right? He from Toronto that’s damn cold, too. Never seen so much snow in my life, Mary.”

“Yeah, we have a lot of snow.” She confirms.

“What do you want to drink?” Brock asks them when the waiter has arrived.

“What is it you’re having?”

“Gin tonic. Oh, you could bring us two more,” Brock decides, making use of the opportunity that the waiter is there.

“Make that four, we’ll have the same,” Magnus decides.

“You here to get away from the cold?” Jose asks curiously and places his hand on top of Brock’s leg underneath the table, his fingertips gliding over the naked skin of his knee with comfortable familiarity.

“Yeah, that too” Margaret confirms. “But mainly we’re here for our 25th wedding anniversary. We spent our honeymoon here and decided to come back. It’s even more beautiful now, with the resorts they built and all.”

“25 years, wow, that’s a long time, mama.” Jose nods his head as he speaks.

“It really is. Thirty years together, 25 married.” She nods along with him.

“That’s the goal, isn’t it? No matter if you married or not, just stick together through thick and thin,” Jose muses and Brock takes his hand that is still resting on his knee.

“It’s not always easy and we’ve had our moments, but we don’t regret it.” Magnus adds. “And what are you doing here? You’re here with your girlfriends or wives?” The question is asked good-naturedly, but still makes Brock a bit nervous. He doesn’t really know how to reply without making it uncomfortable for all of them. Jose has no such reservations, of course.

“Ha! If you want we can flip a coin and then tell you who the wifey is,” he guffaws. “We here together for our first vacation.”

“Oh you are a couple, how sweet!” Margaret seems genuinely excited. “You know you two are the first real gay couple I’ve ever met. Otherwise this way up north we only get gay people on the TV.”

“I think you’d be surprised,” Brock can’t help but snort. “My sister was married for years and had a couple of kids before she came out as a lesbian. Not everything is as it seems, no matter how small the village.”

“What’s the statistical statistics stuff?” Jose asks and turns towards Brock.

“Something like 5%, I think?”

“As in 5% of people are gay?” Magnus asks. They all wait for their drinks to be set on the table before they continue their talk. “That would be like 15 people in our village? I wonder who that could be!”

“Maybe old Sverre? He never got married and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with a woman?”

“I could google the exact percentage for Sweden, but my man here has banned cellphones for the time being.” Brock says and wraps his free arm around Jose’s shoulders.

“And you’re right to do so, darling. It’s horrible when all this people are only staring into their phones and don’t talk to each other anymore.” Margaret pats Jose’s arm.

“You had your forty minutes of internet time today, toes. The rest of your time belongs to me,” Jose smiles up at him and slurps the rest of his gin tonic. “And I’m a darling, you heard that?” He looks so proud and smug that Brock just has to kiss him.

“I heard, papi.”

“There is this couple here at the resort, they have been here for four days… or is it five Magnus?"

"Which couple do you mean?”

“Gianna and TJ.  She’s always on the phone and he keeps ogling everything on two legs?”

“Mami, we know exactly who you’re talking about!” Jose exclaims excitedly, Brock pulls him closer and they are off to kiki about the real tea at the resort until the bar closes and they stumble back to their room, so drunk they barely find the way.

“I still haven’t got to suck your dick,” Brock remembers when they are lying in bed beside each other, clad only in their underwear.

“You drunk… I’m more drunk. Can wake me up with a blowjob if you want,” Jose slurs, barely awake.

“K… blowjob t'morrow mornin'… G'night.” Brock repeats and closes his eyes, hopes that the bed will stop spinning soon.

“G'night.”

TBC

[inconvenient-sneezes]

“road to recovery for two, please”

or the one in which steve has to warn bucky every time he sneezes bc of bucky’s ptsd

[[this is a continuation so read part one here and part two here!!!]]

Time After Time

Chapter Three: Road to Recovery for Two, Please (After)

***

It’s been months since Steve’s gotten Bucky back.

There are aspects of him that are the same and there are some that are very different. For one, Bucky gets his hair cut by suggestion of one of his therapists as a “new beginning.” 

It’s not the exact cut that Steve remembers, but similar enough. There are also certain small things that set him off, like being touched. They’re working on it, but he only likes to be touched on good days and Steve has seen enough of the bad days to know when it is and isn’t okay. 

Steve is the one who cuts all of the tags out of Bucky’s clothes because he can’t stand them rubbing up against his skin all day. He also stays with him during nightmares or panic attacks. Loud sounds shock him and he often results to violence upon being startled, like the time Tony showed up at Cap’s apartment unannounced and was forced to duck out of the way as the knife left Bucky’s hand. Actually, Tony and Bucky haven’t gotten on very well together, which will be a problem for today.

Steve crawls out of bed and into his car to pick up Bucky from therapy at the usual time. He manages not to crash the car, despite his sneezing fits and watery eyes. How a superhuman can get a cold, he still doesn’t quite understand. Bucky opens the door and climbs into the passenger side.

“How was your appointment?” Steve asks, driving away from the building.

Bucky shrugs. “It was good.”

“Good. Hey, uh, Buck?” Steve says, scrunching up his nose, “I’m gonna —heh’NXT!” 

Steve tries to warn his friend every time before his sneezes, just so it’s nothing unexpected. Stifling them also seems to quiet the explosion.

Thankfully, Bucky doesn’t even flinch. “It’s okay, you don’t have to warn me anymore. I’ve been practicing.”

“Oh, re-really?” His voice shakes. “Hahh... hap’SHHT!”

“Bless you.”

Steve sighs. Now is as good of a time as ever. “Hey, you’re gonna be staying with, um, Tony today, okay?” he tells Bucky casually, hoping he’ll let it slide. He doesn’t.

His voice is practically dripping with suspicion. “Why?”

“No reason.”

“I don’t even like that guy,” Bucky mutters. “Are you sick or something?”

“No.” It doesn’t sound convincing.

“Then why—”

“Because you need a break from me. We’ve been staying together for three months. It’ll be good for you to get some f-frehhh... fresh air.” His nostrils flare and Bucky watches him closely.

“Are you sure you’re not sick? You look like you’re going to sneeze,” he points out, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not,” Steve says before sneezing again. “Ehh’CHSHH!”

***

It takes Bucky about five minutes to pack. “I’m used to packing light” is Bucky’s explanation and then he cringes, as if this brings back memories he’d rather not revisit.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning,” Steve tells his friend as they walk together to the entrance of Stark Towers. “And behave, okay? I don’t want to hear any horror stories from Tony.” 

He feels like the mother of a five-year-old sometimes.

Tony meets them there at the doors and Cap smiles. “Tony, thanks for doing this.”

Bucky sulks, looking less thrilled.

“Come on in, Bucky.” Tony steps back so he can enter the threshold. Bucky does and makes a bee-line for the bathroom, without saying goodbye to Steve.

Tony winks at Steve. “I got your back, man.”

“Hh’KSHH!” He cups his hand over his mouth before continuing. “Thanks again. Sorry for this, I really just don’t want him getting sick, you know? His immune system a little weak at the moment—”

“I thought he was superhuman too?”

So am I, but I’ve got bloodshot eyes and a runny nose, Steve wants to inform him. Instead, he explains himself, at least halfway. “Well, he is, but due to all the recent trauma... Anyway, just make sure he doesn’t watch anything violent. Cooking shows, Full House, I don’t care. Just none of that — hah’ISHH! — none of that CSI crap, okay?”

“Sure, sure.”

“And make sure to call me if you need anything or if they’re any problems.”

“Okay, Cap. You just go home and chill. Knock yourself out with some NyQuil.”

Steve grins. “Will do. Alright.”

He walks away, praying that everything will go smoothly.

***

“So,” Tony claps his hands together. “What do you wanna do?”

Bucky stares at him. “Have a drink.”

“You know Steve wouldn’t approve,” Tony says, walking into the kitchen. 

“JARVIS, fix our guest a Coke, please.” He turns to Bucky. “You do like Coca-Cola, right?”

“Yeah.”

So the pair sit on the couch, Bucky sipping a Coke out of the classic glass bottle and Tony indulging in some alcoholic concoction JARVIS cooked up.They sit in silence until Tony finally turns on the television to offer some white noise. Non-violent shows, he reminds himself.

“Today, another school shooting—” Click. 

“Make sure you dice those onions, and I mean dice—” Click. 

“I’mmmm gonna wreck it—” Click. 

“The body was found with deep—” Click. 

He keeps changing the channel until he lands on something called 7th Heaven.

“You’re pretty particular about your television programs,” Bucky notes, sipping his Coke.

After about five minutes of enduring the excruciating, sickly sweet, unrealistic show that is 7th Heaven, Tony switches off the television. “That show sucks.”

Bucky nods. “Nobody’s life is that sugary sweet.” 

It may just be the first time they’ve ever agreed on something.

“You ever play Gin Rummy?”

***

Steve arrives home to his apartment to find a package outside. The words, “for Steve” are hastily scribbled on a Post-It note. He brings it inside and locks the door behind him.

“Dear Steve,” the note inside the package reads, “I heard you weren’t feeling well from Tony so I went and picked up some stuff for you, to pay you back for last winter. Would’ve given it to you in person but I’m a bit of a germaphobe. Feel better soon, Sam.”

Steve chuckles, recalling the time Sam was down with the flu and examines the contents of the box. A Tupperware container of soup, still warm, tissues, Vick’s, ginger ale, the DVD set of Bones and hand sanitizer. Removing everything reveals a second note, that simply says, “Okay, okay, Natasha picked up most of this stuff and made the soup but I provided the Vick’s.”

“Hhtch’SHHUHH!” Steve sneezes and decides to go ahead and start season one. He’s already surrounded by a mountain of tissues and watched six episodes before the NyQuil knocks him out cold.

***

“You can sleep here,” Tony offers, gesturing to a lavish bed in a large bedroom. “My room’s just down the hall if you, uh, need me.”

Bucky nods his thanks. He’s had a great time tonight surprisingly, but his thoughts still go back to Steve. “Thanks, Tony.”

Tony shuts his door. Bucky immediately wriggles out of his shirt and climbs into the huge bed, pulling back the blankets and heavy comforter. It takes him forever to go to sleep and when he does, he has a nightmare.

He’s drowning. Bucky’s in the middle of the ocean, the salt-water washing up again his face and stinging his eyes. He knows full well how to swim, but the water’s so dark and he can’t see anything. Kicking his feet doesn’t help keep him afloat and his one good arm isn’t much help either. Suddenly, his metal arm feels like it’s made of solid lead and abruptly starts to drag him down into the water’s depths. Down, down, down he goes and his mouth and lungs fill with water. His chest is on fire and he can’t breathe. All he can think of is Steve, Steve...

“Steve!” Bucky wakes up screaming Steve’s name. He’s buried deep underneath all the blankets, which explains the drowning notion, but it takes him a second to gather where he is. The nightmare’s over but Bucky is sweating and shivering and all he wants right now is Steve. Besides, this little sleepover has gone on far too long.

Bucky sneaks out of his room and takes an elevator down to the first floor. He leaves out the front doors, so as not to set off any alarms, and walks two and a half miles to Steve’s apartment.

Of course, the front door is locked but Bucky doesn’t want to knock on the door or ring the bell; it’s three in the morning, after all. He goes back downstairs and around the building and climbs up onto the fire escape. Bucky crawls through the window like he’s done it a hundred times.

Steve’s completely unconscious, still lying on the couch and some random Bones episode is playing on the telly. He’s snoring really loudly and Bucky can’t recall a time when Steve had snored. He sits on the couch and puts his hands in his lap. Bucky wants to wake Steve up so bad because he actually wants someone to touch him now. He closes his eyes because maybe things will be better if he can just go to sleep.

However, the dream comes back full force. Bucky’s eyes fly open and once again, he’s screaming Steve’s name like there’s no tomorrow and he’s breathing in short, rapid gasps because he can’t exactly breathe or so that’s what it feels like. Bucky squeezes his eyes closed and repeats his mantra. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t—

“Bucky!” Steve nearly shouts. “Bucky!”

His eyes open again. “H-hi, Steve.” He’s sweating a lot.

Steve puts his hand on Bucky’s back and feels him shaking. He rubs Bucky’s back and whispers soothing things into his ear like he’s done so many times now. He doesn’t even question why he’s back home and he’s not at all mad. 

“Shhh, id’s okay. You’re hobe, you’re with be.”

Bucky recognizes his friend’s voice and leans into him. “I’m sorry, Steve.”

“Doe, don’t apologize. I’b here.”

Steve starts to turn away from him, panicked. “Sorry Bucky, I’b godda — hah’CHESHHH!” His hands pull his T-shirt around his nose and he sneezes into it, sniffing thickly afterward. Bucky cringes.

Still shivering a bit, he turns to face Steve. “You are sick.”

“Dot really, id’s jusd a little—”

“Don’t even tell me you’re not. People get sick, time after time,” Bucky snaps. “Why’d you ship me off to Tony’s if you needed me?”

“I don’t wand you to get sigg. Thad’s the l-lasd thing you d-deed... godda — hahh... hahH! Uh’TSHHH! — right dow.”

“You should’ve told me,” Bucky mumbles, scooting closer to him. “Do you remember when you had pneumonia that one Christmas and I had to take you to the hospital at like two in the morning?” Bucky and Steve play this game often, the Do-You-Remember-When, so Bucky can separate his memories from fiction. This one happens to be true.

“Yeah. I had a really high fever.” Steve recalls slipping in and out of fever-induced hallucinations.

“I’m going to take care of you, just like I did then,” Bucky tells him, getting up to fetch the afghan from the armchair.

“HUSH’uhh!” Steve sneezes again, nostrils twitching. “Ehhh... hahhH! Hh’HDEZCHHOO!”

“Bless you,” Bucky says with a raised eyebrow. “The last time you had a cold like this was in, what, 1943?” 

It sounds more like a question than a statement.

Steve nods. “Yeah. Ad you wouldn’t stob singig thad song—”

“‘In the Blue of Evening.’” Bucky amazes himself by remembering. “You liked it though.”

“Yeah, I did.” Bucky sees his irritated nostrils flare and plucks a tissue from the box. “Here.”

Steve buries his face into it. “Hur’ESHHH!”

“Bless.”

“Thags,” Steve says before blowing his nose. “For everything, I mean.”

“Don’t tell Tony I enjoyed playing Gin Rummy with him.”

Steve chuckles. “I promise.”

***

request some stuff/give me feedback!! read more stuff!!

[clubdolan]

boxer!noah - ASK

I typed too much to make this an ASK so I just screen shot the ask.

GIRL GIRL GIRL I’ve been preparing for this since you sent it to me! Let me remind everyone that AU = Alternate Universe, as in Noah wouldn’t be an actor in this other ‘universe’ and he’s a boxer. So I will avoid acting stuff and pretend he’s a boxer. I will also give the girl a name because I’m getting really tired of typing you.

Note after I’m done writing: This isn’t really like cocky fighter turning on his girlfriend, I went kind of a whole different way.

ATTN/WARNINGS: There’s like a mention or lead into some smut but nothing more than that.

ANYWAYS! Here we go.

“Quinn, how are you feeling about tonight’s fight?”

“Quinn, do you relate his career to your families?

“Quinn, do you enjoy watching the fights?”

“Quinn, do you take any of the threats seriously that opponents have made against you?

Lights flashed. People followed her. She didn’t flinch.

The security guard at the door quickly moved out of the way for her and her personal guard to walk through.

She led the way down the halls only smiling at one person who spoke to her. This arena felt like a second home to her, since she was little. Turning down an empty hall she saw pictures of her father, Professional Boxer Kevin Tharone, winning multiple fights.

But that’s not who she was here to see.

Boxer Noah Centineo. Undefeated for two years. Trained since he was fifteen by Kevin Tharone and his team. Currently set to fight tonight in front of 20,000 people, live on television.

Quinn waited at a door with her guard until it opened. A lady put a pass around her neck and handed on to her security. Holly, she was Noah’s agent, currently tracking the betting odds on him winning.

She made her way back through the venue, past crowds yelling her name, more cameras in her face, “I just put $10,000 on Centineo!” A guy yelled, practically spilling his beer on the floor. “I put $15,000 on him getting a KO!”

A quiet hall led to an open area, she saw Noah pacing around a bag, his usual pre-fight rituals.

“Clear the room.” A deep voice said as the ten or so people scattered down the halls and behind doors.

Quinn pulled her glasses off and put them in her hoodie pocket, “Hey babe.”

He rolled his neck around and shook his arms out before stretching his fingers out and grabbing her hand. “Q”, he smiled, a rare sight on fight night but Quinn was his one weakness.

. . . .

At fifteen when he was invited to train with Kevin Tharone and his team at their private gym he never expected to see a tiny blonde sparring against Kevin as he walked inside.

The first words ever spoken to him by Kevin? “That’s my daughter and you’ll be leaving her alone.”

He lived at that gym for years; practicing, conditioning, fighting, sometimes even sleeping. That’s when at twenty, he was in for early conditioning and saw Quinn asleep in the office.

Noah didn’t dare wake her. The few words they had spoken were in passing and he still received a dirty work out from Kevin afterwards.

Half way into his normal warm up he heard the office door open and Quinn walked out, “Sorry, I must have crashed here when I was only planning to sober up.” Noah looked at her odd, she was only eighteen, just in college. “Frat parties.” She shrugged, “Want any breakfast? I’m going across the street to get coffee and something greasy.”

That was it.

That was the day she begged her dad to let them speak.

After a week of that she begged her dad for permission for one date.

It continued happening, asking for an eighth date, asking if he could go to the next fight with her, all the asking until her dad finally spoke to him and they were able to say they were dating.

Quinn was at his first professional fight and every single fight since then. The highs of parties after wins and the lows of split open lips and eyebrows, bruised ribs and black eyes.

. . . .

“I’ve gotta shower, let’s go.” He kept hold of her hand and led her down the hall. The hall emptied as they entered it, her security left them alone. As he was only hired to be with her when Noah or her father wasn’t.

Quinn checked his fight clothes, all plain black, nothing flashy. His pre-fight drinks were made and being chilled, her request of fresh fruit and Sprite were on a separate table.

Noah found Quinn sitting on the couch, playing with her necklace and watching a live-feed of the outside and inside of the venue.

“Here” he handed over his two rings off the table in front of them and by habit she slipped them on her necklace and let them fall between her chest until he needed them back after the fight.

An hour later Holly knocked on the door before peeking her head in, “Press starts in forty minutes.” Quinn smiled to her in acknowledgement as Noah stayed asleep on her chest.

Her fingers trailed up and down his arm as he took steady breaths in his sleep, still in just a towel from the shower. “No, babe. Time for press.” She whispered, tapping on his chest, “You’ve gotta get up and go kick some ass.”

Without opening his eyes he smiled and wrapped his arms around her. “Five more minutes.”

The crowd’s cheering echoed down the halls, the bass from the music playing seemed to shake the building and the halls were filled with three times the amount of people than earlier.

His trainers surrounded him, prepping his body for the fight. Taping his hands, last minute hair cut, steaming his robe...

Quinn grabbed his taped hands and kissed his palms, leaving a pink lip mark. Her dad finally entered the room, giving Noah a stern nod and nothing else. He hugged Quinn and asked her about her day before leaving them to their normal pre-fight routine.

Noah was getting his gloves tied on as she went back to him, “This is number twenty-six.” She informed him, resting her hands on his exposed hips.

“Do I get a present or something?” He joked, shoving his hand into a glove. “Or do you get a present?”

“How about both?” She suggested, her finger  gliding along his shorts towards his belly button, “But I don’t reward losers.”

Noah laughed as he shook his hands around, seeing if his gloves felt right. She loved the few minutes before he walked out because he had no use of his hands or fingers.

Quinn held a black, silk robe up and he slid his arms in. CENTINEO embroidered on the back in white. She pulled the hood up and situated it on top of his head while he jumped in place with his trainer yelling in his ear.

She stepped back and let them take over getting him psyched up for the fight.

Random roars from the crowd, music blasting through the entire place, men yelling about beer they had for sale and one ring lit up in the middle of the place.

Quinn waited at the door, checking her phone, sliding her glasses on and touching up her lipstick. The doors opened and she waited for Noah; his curls falling in his eyes and his scruffy face made him look like a dream.

She walked out with his entire team of people, right next to him where he wanted her to be.

This is where she seemed to black out. She never remembers watching fights or what happens; she watches them on TV the day after. Since she was little she attended many fights but never remembered being there. They had told her it was adrenaline and a coping mechanism to watching someone she loved being beaten in front her.

The fight ended earlier than expected, not even seven rounds were needed until the referee raised Noah’s arm in the air and announced he had won by “knock out” making him a twenty-six and zero champion.

A belt was wrapped around his waist and his boxing gloves were pulled off his hands. His team hugged him, media tried to get to him and Quinn’s security lifted her over the side of the ring to get to him.

A worker of his put his arm out to stop a photographer from getting to Noah and to allow Quinn to jump and hug him. He sat her down, grabbed her cheeks and kissed her for a few seconds before hugging her into his chest.

“Let’s go” He said to his team leader, who made a way for them to leave back to his room.

Quinn gripped onto his arm that he held the belt up with. She didn’t flinch at the sweat dripping down his arm or the blood that was on his knuckles. He high-fived fans and waved at the camera, he pointed out a sign with his name on it and showed off the belt to another camera.

“Hey” Quinn tugged his arm, pointing to a little boy pushed up to the gate with a boxing glove in his hand and a marker in the other. His face lit up when Noah looked at him and he screamed, “Can you sign my glove?”

Quinn let go of his arm and let him grab the glove, ask the boy for his name and quickly sign it with a 26-0 at the end. “Thanks, Centineo!” The little boy squealed, jumping up and down with the glove.

He grabbed for Quinn to hold onto his arm again and she grabbed hold of it with both hands and kissed his sweaty shoulder.

“Press conference in an hour.” Holly said, unlocking the door to his room. “Dolce and Gabbana suit is hanging in the closet, freshly steamed. After party arrival is in three hours, Quinn, your dress is also in the closet as well as two from Balmain they sent as a gift.”

As soon as the door closed she was off to the closet to check the dresses. “Ho-ly shit.” She looked at the dresses, “These are insane.”

“The all black one with your tall black Louboutin boots.” Noah said, tearing tape off his hands and dabbing a washcloth against the cuts on his face.

“I don’t have Louboutin boots, I brought my black Steve Madden booties or YSL heels.” She held one of each up, holding them near the dresses.

“Check on the shelf above the dresses.” He grinned, not even turning back.

Quinn reached on her tip toes and pulled down a brown box with a red bow on it. “Nooooahhhh” She whined, “Are you kidding me?”

He made his way over to her, watching her open the box to a brand new pair of boots: leather, a red bottom and a silver zipper up the back.

“You’ll look so sexy in those.” He whispered behind her, sending chills up her spine.

“I can’t believe you--

“I love you.”

“You didn’t have to--

“No returns.”

Quinn sat the box down, turned around and hugged him. His sweaty body and familiar after-fight smell was some how one of her favorite things. She checked the cut on his eyebrow and the bruise already forming on his ribs, “You should have noticed his left hook after two right hooks and a dodge.” She pushed on his bruise and made him wince but laugh.

He backed away from her, “You be ready for me when I get out of the shower...” He turned back around and paused once he entered the door, peeking his head back out, “You better have those boots on.”

Twenty minutes later he came out of the bathroom in nothing but his sweatpants, hair still dripping, more bruises forming.

Quinn was leaned against the counter, fixing her makeup. His shirt from this morning just covered her bottom and the Louboutin boots were zipped up the back of her tan legs.

“Whoa, whoa, whoaaa.” He groaned, meeting eyes with her in the mirror. “First you kill me in my shirt, then you kill me in the boots.” He took a step back to look her up and down again. “I can’t wait for our after-after party.” He sighed in her ear, pushing his front to her back, trapping her against the counter.

“We have thirty minutes.”

“I only need ten.” “You still need to change--

“I only...” She could feel his breath on her neck, she clenched onto the blush brush in her hand, “need”, his lips attached to the side of her neck, “ten minutes.”

Quinn shivered the more he kissed her neck, grabbing his damp curls and squeezing as his hands roamed her body. “Babe, we can’t. You try this every fight.”

“You always stop me every fight.” He spoke against her shoulder, his hands sneaking beneath the shirt. “Just let me this one time.”

She spun around quickly and put her hand on his chest, “You cannot, whatsoever, mess up my hair or makeup.”

“I don’t need to be near your hair or makeup.” He grinned, pushing her up on the counter and against the mirror.

“Noah Gregory Centineo there is no time for any of THIS--

She squeaked, stopped talking and grabbed a hand full of his hair once he started doing what he wanted to do.

Right on time as Holly knocked on the door Quinn was adjusting a few curls a top Noah’s head. His burgundy suit complimented her completely black outfit, Holly snapped a quick picture at Quinn’s request before leading them to the car.

“It’s cheat day, Taco Bell.” Quinn begged, “A chicken quesadilla, nachos, cinnamon twists, a Baja Blast freeeeeeeze.”

Noah opened the car door for her as they left the after party. “Do they still have the thing I like?”

“’Quesarito!” She clapped, immediately unzipping the boots as she sat in the back of the SUV.

“Can we swing by Taco Bell before we go to the hotel?”

“Yes we can Mr. Centineo.” The driver nodded before pulling away.

As they entered the hotel Quinn placed her shoes on a counter and grabbed the first shirt she could find. It took a few tries but she wiggled out of the dress and swapped it for the t-shirt before digging in her bag for a ponytail holder and tossing her hair on top of her head in a bun.

“All I do is take a piss and you’re already in pajamas?” Noah joked, leaving his pants undone as he exited the bathroom.

Quinn couldn’t answer as she ate a bite of quesadilla.

He opened the door of the mini fridge, “What are you drinking?”

“I found a beer.” She grinned, taking a sip. “In my bag.”

He shook his head at her drunk antics, knowing his probably weren’t much better. “Why do you have beer in here?” He dug in her suitcase and found the rest of a six pack at the bottom. “Don’t answer, I don’t even care.”

Noah took a long drink before falling on the bed next to her, digging in one of the three bags for something that looked good. “Gimme a bite of quesadilla.”

Quinn held it to his face and let him take a bite before grabbing it back for herself.

“Feed me.”

“No thanks.” She mumbled, chewing on a cinnamon twist. “I am a very hungry person right now.”

“I’m a very tired person right now.” He bit at the cinnamon twist in her hand and managed to get half of it. “Pleeeaseee feed me, you owe me.” He laid his head on her thigh and turned to bite it.

“I can feed you and I don’t owe you for earlier? Solid. I’m ready for bed.”

“I have thought about all the ways I could fuck you tonight, every time I saw you in those boots and that dress, the pictures online of us on the arrival carpet, the little grin you do when you look up at me...” He groaned, “But I’m really, really exhausted.”

“I got to see you box tonight and win which is honestly the biggest turn-on ever.”

“Oh is it?” He asked, lifting his head up. “You said watching me work out was the biggest---

“Any time you’re sweaty, shirtless, in boxing gloves, or in gray sweat pants.” She moaned to herself, “You working out in gray sweatpants messes me up.”

He laughed at her reactions to what she said, “You sweating in gray sweatpants on the day of a fight? The best.”

“Um, did you know.” She sat the bag of food to the side and he rolled onto her lap, “You made, just you, after team earnings, you, Noah, made eight point six million dollars.”

“I can’t wait to fuck you in your new, all white, Tesla Model X.”

“You’re getting a Tesla?”

“You’re getting a Tesla.”

“I’m getting a Tesla? I have a Jeep.”

“I ordered you a Tesla.” He told her, “Custom purple interior. All white outsides.”

“You ordered me a Tesla?”

“Quinn, when you get home tomorrow there’s a Tesla already waiting for you, in your garage.”

“Noah, seriously--

“You deserve it.” He stopped her from saying anything else. “It’s my money, I can do what I want with it.”

“But you don’t have to--

“Shhhhh..” He pushed his finger against her lips, “You must not want these either?” He pulled two small boxes from his pocket.

“I can’t, Noah. You have to stop.” He put the boxes in her hands, “You always tell me to do stuff that makes me happy and it makes me happy to give you gifts.”

In one box was a necklace, a silver choker, the letters Q-U-I-N-N on one level and N-O-A-H on the next. “You had it designed on some Elsty or Testy site but I had my jeweler make one.”

“Etsy.” She laughed, immediately pulling it around her neck and connecting it. “Thank you, babe.” “One more.” He sat the next box in her hand, grinning like a little kid.

She untied the ribbon and sat it to the side, opening the box to reveal a key. “My Tesla key? Teslas don’t have keys.” She held it up, a normal silver key on a small key ring.

“What if I say, I already put the gate access sticker in your Tesla?”

“A key to your house? I know the code for the door.”

“Think of it as more of a symbol.” He suggested. “Like as in me asking you to finally move in?”

“You’re joking.” “Not at all. My house is big and I hate being there alone. I made my friends move out and had a designer come decorate. There’s a brand new closet just for you, a brand new vanity, an updated wine cellar and I added a hot tub on the patio that you suggested the day I moved in.... so if you don’t move in, I just have that all to myself.”

“Of course I’ll move in.” She almost cried, wrapping her hands around his neck and falling onto the bed with him.

“Good. Your Tesla is at my house.” He kissed her, “Well I guess I should say, our house.”

Quinn shook around a little in excitement, “Our house.”

Noah flipped on top of her and kissed her hard, “I don’t think you understand how much I love you”, he kissed her again, “and appreciate you”, he kissed her a little longer, “and every day I think about being with you for the rest of my life.”

Quinn didn’t even speak. She grabbed his neck and pulled him back down to kiss her and soon they fell into a lazy kiss that seemed to last forever, until she made him stop and fall asleep on the premises that they would ��finish tomorrow’.

“I love you, No-ie.”

“I love you too, Quinny.”

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

Winter’s War: Chapter 14

Summary: Your time at the Austrian Hydra base comes back to haunt you. Bucky finds you and you bond.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Language (always), Torture, Mentions of Torture,

Word Count: ~3,849

A/N: Yet another tooth-rotting chapter. Enjoy it while you can, bois.

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

You rolled your eyes, but smiled widely. “You goin’ soft on me, Sarge?” you asked playfully.

“I’m actually havin’ the exact opposite problem right now, sweetheart,” he said coyly.

You nearly fell over when your mind caught up with the implications of what he’d just said. “Bucky!” you yelled chastisingly.

His merry laugh filled the hallway and, a moment later, you joined him, your laughter bouncing off the tiled walls.

“I take it back, you are a lech,” you said between giggles as you wiped tears of laughter from your eyes.

Bucky’s laughs cut off abruptly and when he spoke he sounded completely indignant. “Hey!”

Everything hurt. You were in agony.

“Come now, fraulein. Struggling will get you nowhere.“

You tried to look at the source of the voice, but your body wouldn’t listen. It was like you were swimming in maple syrup. You knew what you’d see if you could move, though; You knew that voice nearly as well as your own. Arnim Zola was standing beside you and, judging from how badly your entire body hurt, so was your nameless torturer.

"Tell me how to make more super soldiers, or I will kill your precious boys.”

You fought against the restraints holding you down, crying out in agony as they bit into your skin. It didn’t feel like leather or rope. Everywhere they touched felt like white hot metal.

“No. No no no no.” Not the boys. Not Steve. Not Bucky.

“Yes, fraulein.”

To your horror, a white-hot piece of metal appeared in your line of vision... and it was getting closer by the second. It inched closer and closer to your face until you could feel the heat on your cheeks; sweat beaded on your forehead and dripped into your eyes. 

In just a second, it would touch your eye; you’d lose it immediately and the pain would be excruciating.

“Please, god, no! Dum Dum! Steve! Bucky!-”

You shot up from your bed with a strangled cry, tangled in your now-sweaty bed sheets. Your chest heaved as your hands roamed your body, checking for any of the damage the man in the dream had inflicted. Finding nothing, you finally relaxed a hair, breath coming slower now.

You shoved your blankets and sheets off, their presence causing a sensory overload on your poor, abused mind. You welcomed the chill of the night’s air; it was the exact opposite of the hot metal’s touch.

You were all still in Greece, taking the time to plan here before you made a move on your next target. It seemed the lot of you had taken a liking to the tiny house; it almost felt like home at this point; they might not admit it, but you knew they’d be sad when you all had to leave.

You tiptoed carefully downstairs, not wanting to wake anyone. It seemed like you’d been successful. You made it all the way to the kitchen and the house was still completely silent. You poured yourself a glass of water as quietly as possible and took a seat at the kitchen table, sipping on it absently as your mind wandered. You pulled your knees up to your chest and stared absently out the window.

You didn’t want to go back to sleep again, for fear the nightmares would start back up. They’d been plaguing you since you made it out of the Hydra facility three weeks ago. A quick glance at the grandfather clock in the corner told you it was almost 4:00 am. You could make it through the day without going back to sleep... right?

“What are you doin’ up, Doll?”

You swiveled on the chair, nearly losing your balance in the process, and looked up at Bucky, who was standing in the doorway, looking at you with concern. He had a blanket draped over his head and shoulders; he looked almost like a little kid who’d woken up in the middle of the night... except he was a tall, muscular 26 year old man. You didn’t miss the dark circles under his eyes.

“Bucky, jeeze. You scared me,” you whispered, willing your heart to return to a normal pace.

A small smile graced his features as he made his way over to you, blanket dragging just a bit behind him. “Sorry, Doll. Didn’t mean to,” he whispered contritely. He came to a stop in front of you and crouched down, taking your hands in his. When he realized you were shivering, he looked you up and down in concern. “You’re freezin’, (Y/N). Why are you sittin’ out here in just your thin cotton pajamas?” He made a move to take the blanket off from around his shoulders and give it to you, but you stopped him.

“I... had a nightmare... about...” your face twisted grimly and you stared right past Bucky as the horrors Zola had inflicted on you resurfaced.

“About... Austria? The base?” Bucky supplied helpfully, tone quiet and understanding.

You nodded, tremor running through your body at the name, and curled back in on yourself, drawing your knees back into your chest.

Bucky’s face twisted painfully as he beheld you, sitting there shivering pathetically. “Can I touch you, sweetheart?” he asked quietly, kneeling down in front of you.

You studied him for a moment, thinking hard. The thought of being touched made your skin crawl, but it was Bucky... it might be alright if it was him.

“Yeah, alright,” you said finally, giving him a tiny nod.

He moved slowly, immediately setting you a bit more at ease. His hands started at yours; he placed them over yours gently and you nearly sighed with relief at the warmth the simple touch gave you. Had you really gotten that cold without realizing it? He worked his way up your arms slowly, palms leaving heat in their wake. Before you knew it, he was cupping either cheek in his hands, his face inches from yours. You had nowhere to look but into his steel blue eyes and, before you knew it, you’d relaxed almost completely, leaning unconsciously into his touch.

To your shock, you began crying. It was a vulnerable, child-like thing that you couldn’t have stopped if you’d tried. You fell into Bucky’s lap, throwing your arms around his shoulders, and held onto him as though he was a life preserver and you were drowning in the ocean.

Bucky caught you easily and pulled you to his chest. One of his huge hands soothed your hair as he murmured comforting things in your ear.

“It’s alright, (Y/N). I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay. You’re okay,” he muttered over and over again while you cried into his chest. It was only once something dripped onto your nose that you realized how uneven his breathing was. You glanced up and, through your soaked lashes and watery eyes, were able to see that Bucky was, indeed, crying along with you. When he noticed you looking he sniffed and glanced away, trying to put on a brave face, but it was too late. You’d seen it all.

“Oh, baby...” you whispered, heart breaking at the sight. A fresh wave of tears rolled down your face. You knew he’d been through a lot, but he’d never said anything so you assumed he’d been coping well, but it seemed that wasn’t completely the case.

He glanced back at you, bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he chewed on it nervously. You reached up slowly and wiped the tears from his face, giving him a small smile. “What a pair we make, huh?” you asked quietly.

He cracked a smile at that and leaned down to place a tender kiss to your forehead. “Wouldn’t trade you for the world, Dollface,” he murmured against your skin as he rubbed comforting circles into your back with his hand.

You smiled at that and gave him a gentle squeeze as your thumbs rubbed gentle circles into his skin. “Like I’d let you,” you joked lightly. He laughed at that and the noise made your heart feel unspeakably lighter and you even found yourself giggling quietly along with him. You both quieted again a few seconds later, simply enjoying the comfort of each other’s company. After a moment, though, you spoke up. “I wouldn’t trade you for anything, either,” you mumbled. His hands froze on your back and when he didn’t start moving again you tilted your head up so you could look at his face.

Your heart stuttered at the sight in front of you. There was a gentle smile on his face that you’d never seen before and his eyes shone with such pure adoration that you nearly started crying again. He reached up and cupped your cheek and brushed his rough thumb lightly over your skin. “Come sleep with me,” he said quietly.

A small part of you wanted to say no. You’d only been with Bucky for a day and, although it felt like you’d been together much longer, you weren’t the kind of woman to have sex with a man that early in the relationship. Hell, you hadn’t even had a real date together yet.

But with the way he was looking at you and how you felt just then, you would have jumped off a cliff if he’d asked you.

He must have correctly interpreted your silence because he spoke up again quickly. “I don’t mean anything but sleeping, Doll. I just... thought it might be better than sleeping alone with the nightmares,” he amended quickly, but you were already nodding your head in agreement halfway through his sentence. He smiled broadly and, in a show of strength and dexterity, picked you up and stood as though you weighed nothing. 

“Your room alright?” he asked quietly, glancing down at you with that unbridled adoration in his eyes.

“Considering my other option is listening to Dugan snore all night, yeah,” you said, smirking. He let out a single huff of laughter and began making his way towards your room, blanket floating behind him like a cape.

You were in your loft a moment later. Like Steve, Bucky had to duck a bit to avoid hitting his head on the low ceiling. He placed you gently onto the bed and you wormed your way underneath the blankets. He crawled into the bed and under the blankets a moment later and sidled up next to you. His arms went around you and you turned to face him, burying your face in his chest. You inhaled deeply, allowing his scent to set you at ease.

He placed a light kiss to your forehead. “Get some sleep, (Y/N),” he murmured, voice already thick with sleep. Apparently you had the same effect on him that he had on you.

“G’night, Buck,” you murmured, eyes already heavy with sleep.

“G’night, Doll,” he answered, breath tickling your hair.

You fell almost immediately into a blissfully dreamless sleep, Bucky’s comforting weight next to and around you.

“You wake ‘em up.” Jim.

“I’m not going in there. What if they’re naked?” James.

“I ain’t doin’ it.” Dum Dum.

“Don’t look at me.” Gabe.

“Je refuse.” Jacques.

“... Rock paper scissors?” Steve.

You blinked slowly as you woke, the hushed conversations rousing you rather effectively. You realized there was a weight keeping you from moving too much and you glanced up, eyes immediately finding a pair of equally sleepy-looking steel blue ones gazing back at you. You couldn’t help the dopey smile that took its place on your face as you beheld Bucky in all his disheveled early-morning glory.

“Morning,” you murmured, leaning forward to shove your face into his chest, nuzzling it gently.

You felt the low, rumbling chuckle that left his lips at your actions. “Mornin’,” he whispered, placing a light kiss to your forehead.

“You want to put them out of their misery, or should I?” you asked, peering up at him blearily through one eye.

He smirked and gave you a gentle squeeze before he spoke up, loud enough for the guys to hear. “We’re awake, you fat heads. Your yappin’ was so loud I’m surprised you didn’t wake the whole neighborhood.”

There was a torrent of apologies mixed with indignant comments. Then, Steve spoke up, “You two decent?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” you grumbled, snuggling even closer into Bucky’s chest, making him chuckle. You didn’t want to get up, much less talk to other people, even if it was Steve and the guys.

There was a sigh of relief and the sound of Steve walking up the stairs. You couldn’t see anything except Bucky’s chest but when Steve spoke again it was obvious he was in your room. “Hey, Jerk.”

“Punk,” Bucky responded instantly, fondness in their tones betraying their words. He poked his head out of the blankets to stare at Steve.

“You made us worry when we woke up and you were nowhere to be found,” Steve said chastisingly.

“Well I had a choice between sleeping next to a bunch of smelly men or a pretty dame, so-” you kicked him in the shin (not enough to hurt) “-ow. Yeah, yeah. I should have left a note or something. Figured you guys would put two and two together, though,” Bucky said, sounding just contrite enough to satisfy Steve.

Steve let out a long sigh. “We leave for Czechoslovakia in a few hours. Will you two be ready to go by then?” he asked tiredly.

You stuck your hand out of the blankets and gave Steve a thumbs up. Bucky grinned widely at that and nodded to your hand and then to Steve. “You heard the lady. We’ll be ready,” he said with a wink.

Realizing that was the best he was going to get out of the two of you just then, he turned and left, grumbling discontentedly as he walked down the stairs. Once Bucky was fairly sure he was out of earshot, he laid back down and kissed you deeply, making you smile and kiss him back, your arms snaking around his waist. It was a slow, lazy kiss, but made your heart soar anyway. You broke apart after a minute and he placed a light kiss to the tip of your nose.

“You will be ready to go in a few hours, right?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at you. “I know you have a lot of stuff.”

You rolled your eyes and nodded. “Packed yesterday after we were done working on your rifle,” you said quietly.

He grinned slyly and your heartbeat picked up involuntarily at the sight. “Well that means we have a few hours to kill... You got any ideas?” he asked, hand trailing down your waist until it was on your hip. He pulled you to him and you felt your cheeks heat as you stared up at him, wide-eyed.

“I, uh- Well- Maybe we- Uhm.”

Bucky laughed as he released your hip and placed a chaste kiss to your lips. “I was joking, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready. Don’t want you to feel any pressure,” he said easily. “But any ideas would be welcome,” he said with a wink.

You relaxed and brought your hand up to card your fingers gently through his hair. He closed his eyes at the touch and relaxed; you were sure that if he was a cat he’d be purring. “How about that date you promised me yesterday?” you asked quietly.

He opened his eyes and graced you with a blinding smile. “I think that’s a great idea, Doll. I haven’t had time to look in town, though...”

“How about some coffee and a light breakfast? We don’t have a ton of time,” you said, scratching his head gently as your fingers ran through his hair.

He let out a small noise of content and nodded his agreement with your plan. “But you know, that means you’ll have to get up.” You pouted at that, fingers stilling in his hair. He smiled at you, eyes twinkling with a mischief that had you suddenly a bit concerned. “Now, Doll, if you don’t get up of your own free will I may be forced to take... drastic measures,” he said dramatically.

You set your jaw and glared him down, calling his bluff. He wouldn’t dare-

Oh, but he did dare. His fingers shot to your sides before you could stop them and began wiggling. You immediately burst into laughter at the tickling and no matter how you clawed at his wrists and hands, they wouldn’t budge. You tried to fight back, reaching for his sides, but he batted your hands away easily with his elbows, face alight with mirth as he tortured you with tickles.

“Give up yet, Doll?” he asked as he smiled, biting his lip playfully.

“Ne-Never!” you managed to choke out between gasping breaths and loud laughs.

He didn’t relent, though. He took it one step further and buried his face in your neck, his unshaved scruff tickling your sensitive skin there, too. 

You couldn’t take it anymore; you could barely breathe. “Uncle, uncle! I give!” you breathed. His hands stilled immediately and he placed a tender kiss to your neck as you gasped for air.

When you finally got your breath back you turned to level a glare at him... the effect was somewhat hampered by the smile on your lips. He smiled innocently at you, shrugging helplessly.

“You’re going to pay for that. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But I will get my revenge,” you said dangerously.

He only winked playfully at you though and placed a kiss to your cheek. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he said coyly. He hopped out of the bed a moment later before you could do anything.

“James!” you yelled mock angrily as you chased after him, vaulting off of the bed. He turned just in time to catch you, arms wrapping securely around your waist. Your arms went around his neck and your legs wrapped around his waist.

He grinned widely at you. “Ooh, pullin’ out the first name. I am in trouble,” he said cheerfully.

You rolled your eyes and pecked him lightly on the lips. “I’m going to shower then get ready. We can leave in... forty minutes?” you asked doing the math in your head. You could be ready in forty minutes... probably.

He nodded along, wide grin lighting his entire face up. “Sounds good, Doll,” he murmured. You smiled and disentangled yourself from him, dropping to your feet gracefully. You turned away to gather your things, but he stopped you; he grabbed your hand and pulled you firmly back to his chest. You opened your mouth to ask him what he was thinking, but your protests were silenced by his lips on yours. The kiss was passionate and heated and filled with everything he felt for you, and you for him. The closest word you could come up with for it was “perfect”.

You broke apart after a moment, both wearing matching, ridiculously happy smiles.

“Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that,” he said quietly, gazing happily at you. He seemed to sober a bit after a second. “But we have places to be, Dollface. You better go get ready,” he said, spinning you so you were facing your suitcase. He placed a light kiss to the crown of your head then gave you a gentle push. “Meet you in the living room in forty.”

You turned to look at him, nodding dazedly. You watched him leave, only snapping out of the Bucky-induced haze once he was out of sight.

As you were gathering up your things, it finally hit you. You were going on a date with Bucky. You were his best girl.

You practically skipped to the bathroom, ignoring the knowing looks the guys gave you as you made your way through the house.

Right before you closed the door, you heard Jim say something to Dum Dum.

“They’re going to be insufferable from now on, aren’t they?” Jim asked, harsh words belied by his kind, amused tone.

“Oh yeah,” Dum Dum said with a hearty laugh. “Big time.”

Forty minutes later you were waiting nervously at the door, clean and fully bundled up to face the chilly forty-three degree morning air. Bucky appeared a moment later, looking as cozy as ever in his dark blue pea coat. He forewent the normal munitions, though; today he wore a scarf and you could see the telltale bulge of a wallet in his front pants pocket (at least, you assumed it was a wallet. You didn’t let your gaze dwell long enough to discern whether or not it really was).

“Ready to go, Doll?” he asked, taking your hand in his as you made your ways towards the door.

You opened your mouth, but your stomach chose just then to growl, effectively answering his question for you. You looked guiltily up at him and he laughed, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“One breakfast date, comin’ right up,” he said with a wink as he opened the front door.

The two of you made your way to a little cafe just a few blocks away. It was one of the few places left open in the area due to the war, but its food was delicious, so you weren’t complaining. You sat in a booth by the window, chatting easily and people-watching, coming up with increasingly ridiculous made up life stories for passersby. Time passed by quickly; you drank coffee, ate your food, and talked. Then talked some more. It was only once Bucky glanced at his watch and did a double take that you realized how much time must have passed.

“Geeze, Doll. We better go. I’m surprised Steve hasn’t sent out a search party for us yet,” Bucky said, hastily throwing on his scarf as he scooted out of the booth. He made his way to your side of the table and offered you a hand. You took it thankfully, smiling warmly at him as you tugged your coat on.

“Thanks, Bucky.”

“My pleasure, Doll.”

You made it back to the house in record time, only after buying an entire pie as a peace offering to the guys. Steve opened his mouth to chew you out the moment you stepped in the door, but one sniff of the pie in the box in your hands and he shut right up.

Not a half hour later you and the guys were on your way to the airstrip; you were on Moxie with Bucky (you’d let him drive- he was thrilled), Steve was on Patriot, and the guys were in the trucks.

The moment everything was loaded you took your seat in the cockpit. Bucky took the seat next to you; you’d agreed to teach him how to fly and he was to be your copilot while he learned (Steve had been insistent about that. He probably hoped it would temper your impulses). Just like that, you were all on your way to Czechoslovakia.

Next Chapter

If you’d like to be tagged in this series, like this post! Sorry, but responses to this post asking to be tagged will be ignored, so send me an ask or like one of the taglist posts!

[constelacionde-orion]

Every you Every me (2½/15?)

Pairing : Tony!Father x Reader!Daughter x Steve x Avengers 

Warnings: nightmares, swearing, blood(? Summary: You are Tony’s daughter, everything was normal until you recall your past in your nightmares.

A/N : Sorry about the grammar and if someone out there can help me, it will be awesome. Okay so this part is longer so I cut it, I will upload this part and in few hours the rest, sorry, but it’s better than reading like 6,000 words in one page. 

Word Count: 2874

Chapter 1  Chapter 2 (Next)  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12  Chapter 13   Chapter 14

Finally you got a happy dream, everything was sweet and relaxed until F.R.I.D.A.Y woke everyone up.

"Unusual activity detected, please go to the boardroom" the A.I. spoke throughout the tower.

"God, what now?" you said under your breathe while you sit up.

"I don't know, but it's better to go now" Steve told you with his morning voice and a yawn.

He got out of bed to go to the bathroom. You took the sleep out of your eyes and you went for your suit. You heard Steve coming out and you turned around.

"Hey, by the way, sorry about... you know, last night" you said ashamed.

"It was only a nightmare Y/N, and you feel better now, don't you?" he told you with a lovely and tired smile, and you saw it, his eyes were a little red for the lack of sleep, still he didn't tell anything about it and you said nothing. 

"Yes, I am, but-" an image went through your eyes fast as a thunder, making you jump a little, you didn't had time to guess what the fuck was that.

"Are you okay?, if you feel bad or something, we can talk with Tony so you can stay here" said Steve concerned, of course he saw that something went wrong inside you in a blink of an eye.

"What?, no way!, I'm fine, it was just a chill or something, don't worry, now... let's suit up" you said with a fake smile before making your way to the bathroom.

You locked the door and your act fell to the floor. Your hands were shaking and you didn't understand why, you walked to the mirror and saw yourself reflected. The place changed until you were in somewhere dark and cold, once again the image appeared but this time it lasted longer, it was a woman, her face covered in blood, her mouth was moving but you couldn't hear anything, and then you heard a horrible scream . You tried to remain quiet, you didn't want Steve to worry, so you covered your mouth with your hand, you were scared and intrigued, who was this woman? and why you saw her?.

You picked up your suit off the floor and put it in a blink of an eye. You washed your face and then you counted to ten to relax a little. You left the bathroom and you saw Steve adjusting his combat boots.

"Ready?" he told you when he heard the door.

"Always, Cap" you told him trying to sound confident.

"Let's go then" he grabbed his shield and your hand, both of you went to the boardroom.

It wasn't a surprise to be the first ones there, Steve have manage to wake you up faster. Before you two were a couple, you was always the last one to arrive, it was really hard for you to woke up fast in the middle of the night or at least in early mornings (and after a nightmare it was worst). But now, thanks to Cap, you don't have any other option but to be ready in less than 10 minutes.

"Okay F.R.I.D.A.Y, show me where and what is this unusual activity" said Steve walking to the large screen.

You sit in your usual spot in the table waiting for everyone to arrive. You heard F.R.I.D.A.Y explaining Steve the last register and you looked at the screen.

They were images of what it looks like an old factory in middle of the woods, it was weird, how this factory presented unusual activity when it is clearly abandoned? the registers of the zone didn't show the approach of something or someone close to the place in 50 years, so what was going on?.

"I will never understand how you two can wake up at 4 a.m.  and look totally fresh" said Clint in the doorframe with two cups of coffee. "Here you go kiddo" he told handing you your cup.

"You are really a hero Clint" you answered with now the cup in your hands, you take a sip of the hot coffee and you closed your eyes, you will really need it to begin the day. 

"I know, i know" he took a sip of his coffee and sit in the other side of the table.

Next to come was Natasha and Wanda, both of them ready to kick asses. Then Sam and Vision, minutes later Thor with pop tarts and Bucky with all his hair in a big mess.

“Good morning everyone” Wanda said taking her usual seat. 

Everyone said hello to her and for once you thought you’ll have a peaceful morning until Sam saw Bucky’s hair. 

"Now, who has a nest on his head?, huh?" Sam said with a grin.

"Still, I don't have a bird brain" said Bucky with a wink.

"The tin really have to come with us?" Sam asked Steve like a little child.

"What? i'm too much for you, dove?" asked Bucky.

“I’m getting curious in your high knowledge on birds” Sam said a little surprised. 

“Your cousins talk to much in the morning, not my fault” Bucky answered while he grabbed his hair to make a messy bun. 

"Y/N can you please make him hit himself?" Sam begged you

Before you could say a word Bucky interrupt you.

"Really? she wouldn't do that, look at her, she's not an ass like you" Bucky argued.

You turned your head to Steve and he was glaring at the both childs on the table.

"I can't believe it's only 4:00 am and they already want to rip off their heads " T'challa said scaring you a bit, you didn't saw him arrive.

"Wow, you are really a cat, silent like a shadow" Bucky said to T'Challa after he saw you jump on your seat.

"What did you said toasted head?" T'Challa replied to Bucky.

"Okay, that’s enough!" Steve shouted.

"See?, you even make Cap lose his shit" Sam told Bucky.

"Sam! you too!" Steve glared at Sam and he stayed silent.

"Who made Steve turned into his mama-mode?" Tony asked in the door frame

"Tony, stop" Steve said once more trying to stay calm.

"'kay Capsicle. Now what's the matter?" Tony said taking the seat in front of you.

You offered your coffee and he tooked it without saying a word, it was a common thing between the two of you.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y received a kind of signal from this place" he said with the big factory behind him.

"What kind of signal?" Bruce asked while taking the seat next to Tony.

"About Hydra's intel, that's one of the weird things about this" Steve said looking at every one of us.

"One?, are there more weird things about it?" Wanda asked confused.

"I'm afraid yes. This place looks dead outside and inside, this has been like this for over 50 years, but somehow it haves activity..." Steve said confused.

"So, now we haunt ghosts?" Clint asked with a chuckle.

"Here. The place have inner security cameras" Steve said showing the inner equipment.

"But, how?, you said this place has been dead for over 50 years, that kind of security it's from nowadays" Bruce said concerned.

"And still it get more weird. Someone put sensors before the place appeared abandoned, why? I don't know, but this things keep working and have recorded movements near and inside the factory within this 50 years. Meanwhile, other kind of sensors or radars doesn't work here and if they do, they don't register anything " Steve said, showing us how the military radars near the place worked, and it was true, they turned crazy even far away the place.

"Like if there was a giant magnetic field?" you asked trying to join the points.

"It can be one possibility, but still, the cameras would have to show people, and  there isn't" Tony said looking at every picture.

"Do you think it will be like 2014?" Natasha asked.

"It think so" Steve said while looking at her.

"What happened in 2014?" you asked confused.

"An old bunker of S.H.I.E.L.D in New Jersey sent a signal too. Nat and me went there, it was a trap from Hydra" Steve answered you.

"So, what now?, we have the chance to be killed or discover something big?" Tony asked Steve.

"Yes." Steve said looking at everyone.

"Okay, so is there more we need to know, what those the sensors or whatever they are recorded?" T'Challa asked.

"This place it's popular in the area for being haunted, before it stopped working, multiple murders happened there, the story said this place worked with human parts if you know what I mean, they used the corpses for-" Steve was soon cut by Sam.

"Okay we get it Cap, this place is nuts, so stop." Sam said while shaking his head.

"Indeed, now we are ghostbusters" said Clint.

"Now everyone listen. When we get there, don't turn off your communicators. We'll divide in teams of four. Wanda, Bucky, Bruce and Tony you'll go for the east, Sam, Clint, T'Challa and Y/N, the west side, Thor, Vision, Natasha and me by south. Find the sensors, turn them off, search for someone or something out of place, after that, we get inside the factory for the intel, I'll give new orders there, okay?" Steve said and everyone agreed.

"Now. let's go" Steve said and everyone went to the Quinjet.

"Who ya gonna call?, ghostbusters" Clint sang in the way.

"Y/N" you heard Tony's voice, once again Steve let you alone with him.

"Five minutes Stark's" said Steve before closing the doors.

"Tony" you said looking at him.

"I heard you last night" he said while crossing his arms.

"About that. You were right, every night it's worst" you told him, your eyes looking at the floor.

"You will finally tell me?" Tony said, he walked to you and took your face in his hands.

You nodded and you felt a tight knot in your throat.

"Okay, now, go to the Quinjet, I'll be there in five, i gotta pee" he told you making you laugh.

"I didn't need that kind of information dad" you told him still with a chuckle.

"I know, but it made my princess laugh" he told you with a side hug.

"Don't you ever call me that again" you told him in a stern voice.

"See you in five dear" Tony told you after both of you leaved the room.

You walked to the Quinjet. Sam and Steve were ready to fly the Quinjet, meanwhile, everyone was taking the own seats, Thor was still eating, Wanda was training with her powers, Bucky checking up all his knifes, T’challa was on his phone, Clint was calling his wife and Vision was next to Wanda. 

"Where's Tony?" Bruce asked you.

"He'll be here in less than five" you told him.

"Where are we heading anyway?" Bucky asked confused.

"Finland" Steve said through the speakers.

"Great" Bucky said a little annoyed.

"What Barnes?, I thought you liked Winter" Everyone heard Sam's voice.

"Sam, last time, leave Bucky" And everyone heard Steve's mama's voice.

"Let’s pray Cap doesn't turn into Capsicle again" you heard Tony in the Quinjet.

"Fine. Now, we are leaving" Steve said with a final tone.

"Why's your boyfriend so bossy?" Tony asked you making you chuckle again.

"I heard that Stark" Steve said.

"Good. Now you know" Tony said again, after taking a seat next to you.

"Now dear, take care there okay?" Tony asked you.

"What?, aren't we going to talk?" you asked Tony, who was now in process of sleeping in your shoulder.

"I need to rest a little, I'm old Y/N" Tony told you before closing his eyes.

"Not as old as Barnes, or is he already fast asleep?" Sam said in the speakers

"Steve, control your parrot" Bucky said.

"How did you called me Robocop?!" Sam shouted again.

"Both of you! stop it now!" Steve shouted again.

"I guess, we all going to sleep, at least to block this two for some hours" Natasha said resting her head in your other shoulder.

"I guess so" you said before closing your eyes.

"Y/N, wake up, we're here" you heard Tony's voice.

You opened your eyes, and saw your dad with a soft smile. You don't know how many time you sleep, but at least you rest, you felt better than before.

"I'm glad you didn't have any nightmares" Tony told you, he gave you a hand to stand up.

"I'm glad too" you said with a tired smile. You looked around, everyone was getting ready.

Steve and Sam walked to the center of the Quinjet.

"Listen everyone, we had to land 3 miles away from the factory, the Quinjet was having trouble with the radars, we think it's because of the same kind of field of the area" Sam said with a virtual map on his hand.  

"Now everyone, get together with your team, we leave in 3" Steve said looking at us.

Everyone went with their respective team. You checked twice if you have everything you need it for the mission, after that you stretched your body and you knew you were ready when Steve gave the order to leave.

Before leaving Steve grabbed your wrist and gave you a ‘lucky’ kiss, you smiled at him. 

“Take care, okay?” He told you with a tender voice. 

“You too, Captain” you told him before you started to ran behind your team. 

Clint, T'Challa, Sam and you were running into the woods. When again, Bucky and Sam started an argument, for your luck, Clint joined them, and you did exactly what Steve asked you not to do, turn off the communicators, but really, you didn't want to hear all the arguing of those childs, you need to concentrate.

A mile away, Sam stopped. You turn your head to see your surroundings, maybe he heard or saw something, but you didn't have a clue on what was happening. You look at Clint and he's on the same page as you, lost. Then you look at T'Challa and his searching for some kind of answer. Finally Sam turn around.

"What happened?" Clint asked Sam.

"The radar, it's changing our position" Sam said more confused and looking at the virtual map.

"What?, why?" you asked him more confused.

"This thing says that we are running in circles" Sam said once more.

"Hey, Nat, we have a problem" Clint said in the comm.  

"Tony, what's your position?" Sam asked Tony too.

You and T'Challa changed looks, what was happening?.

"Nat says, that it's better if we use the skies, maybe we can see the factory from there" Clint finally said.

"Okay, Y/N take Clint " Sam tells you.

"Please, tell me you are a safe ride, I have kids" Clint tells you, trying to relax the horrible situation.

"I got you, just chill, okay?" you smile and you nod to Sam.

It was easy, you power is similar as Magneto, you can control any kind of metal and secondaries, you can change it's form and of course, you can 'fly', because what you actually do it's use your power creating a repulsive force between yourself and the planet, like magic. But this also make your eyes turn white.

"Sam! Can I go with you?, I'm scared as shit, her eyes are white" Clint said really amazed, because actually, it's the first time Clint sees your power this close.

"Don't be a girl Clint, take me hand" you tell Clint with your stretched arm.

"Don't do anything crazy please" Clint tells you with this eyes closed.

You chuckle and he takes your hand. You look at Sam and you nod.

"Okay we are going up, see you all up in the sky" Sam said before flying with T'Challa.

You turn on your comm only to be greeted by Steve scolding Tony, Sam and Bucky, so once again you turned off. You looked up, and notice that it's your time to go up.

"Okay Clint, here we go" you tell him.

"I'm not going to open my eyes" Clint said holding you with both of his hands.

You started to fly and when Clint's feets left the ground he screamed, making you laugh.

"Shut the fuck up Natasha, this shit is scary!" You heard Clint, you figured out that now he was the bullied one.

Your eyes found Sam, you reached for him and he smiled at you, then he saw Clint, holding on you like a little kid and he laugh.

"So, where we have to land?" you said after looking down and not seeing anything similar as a factory.

"Well. I don't know, you want to make juggling?" he asked you with a smile.

"Don't you dare! I trusted you with my entire life Y/n!!" Clint screamed, still he had his eyes closed.

"I'm not going to... unless I get pretty tired of your weight" you said looking at Sam.

"I'm sure T'Challa is heavier, please don't do it Y/n, I gave you coffee in the morning!" Clint held on you tighter.  

"Fine I won't let you go, just because you gave me coffee" you assured him.

"y/n, it's time for landing" Sam told you.

"here? but there's nothing here!" you said, once more looking down.

"I know, but Cap said that, you don't have your comm's on?" Sam asked you confused.

"I do, but my head it's ignoring Steve's scolding to my father and Bucky" you lied to him.

"Well, you better listen now, we are going down" Sam told you before disappearing in the woods.

"Clint, you heard right?, we are going down, so held tight" you told Clint while going down.

"Jesus Lord! It feels worst!" Clint screamed.

"Clint you can let me go now" you told him, but still he grabbed you tight.

"Clint! your feet are in the ground for God sake!" Sam shouted.

Clint finally opened his eyes and started to kiss the floor.

"Gross man, don't do that, animals live here, god knows how many times they have left- fluids there" T'Challa said walking away with you.