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navstuffs · 2 years ago

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Protocol 77

Pairing: Firefighter Steve Rogers x GN!Reader

Summary: THIS IS NOT A DRILL!; or where Steve has to save you for real now.

Warning: LONG ONE-SHOT, accident description, blood, injury, mention of DUI, steve feeling powerless/panicking, mentions of anxiety attack, swearing, steve is insecure/belittles himself, angst with good ending, some usage of y/n, bonus scene with protective steve/sam/bucky at the end.

Author's note: i knew the second part of Evacuation Drill had to be with a real one: steve really saving reader this time, this one being less sexy and a little more dramatic. there will be some inconsistencies in this fanfic as well (doctors can only give info about patients to family members, for example). most of the rescuing references came from this video, so you can watch to have a visual of what they are doing. also thank you so much for the feedback on the first part, i hope you guys like this one as well! gif credit to its owner.

Part 1

When the crash happened, you weren't looking at your phone. It had been vibrating the whole day, begging for your attention but you didn't have the time to look at it. You had been driving home, exhausted. You had a really stressful day at your work, with your boss Jerry suddenly informing the team Friday morning that "they" had a huge project for Monday! It wasn't anyone's fault in the team except Jerry's, who had warned he needed that presentation to show the directors. Everyone was ordered to stay late that Friday, except Jerry, to finish the presentation. Your boss had left at 5 o'clock, on point, ordering no one to leave until those slides were ready and e-mailed to him.

You had a pretty competent team, so everyone worked together to finish. Leah was the first to leave; she had twins to take care and she couldn't pay extra for the nanny. She promised to continue her work at home. Polly also couldn't stay more; she took care of her sick grandma. Soon everyone started leaving due to their personal lives, promising to continue at home, except you. You believed in them. The team was strong, except for Jerry. They all looked at you as their boss figure anyway since they knew they couldn't count on Jerry. You wondered how he even got that boss position.

You were so deep in your thoughts, you didn't realize a huge car was speeding through the red light, directly towards you.

-x-

Steve Rogers watched as Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson played some ping pong. It had been a slow night. They had received a call from a cat trapped in a tree(Bucky affirmed over and over again that the old lady had a crush on Steve, that's why she kept calling), some teenagers started a fire in a trashcan in a park and a lady who called about her house being on fire. After a complete check-up in her house, with no sign of any fire anywhere, they realized her alarms were defective due to battery. She apologized profusely, giving them cookies.

"It's Friday night, soon we will probably have something," Natasha Romanoff stated on their way back to the station "At least, we got cookies."

Steve's life had changed in those a lot in those last couple of months: first, he had become an official firefighter. He loved his job, he loved helping people. He felt his purpose was being filled and he was happy. Proud of himself, he would have to admit.

Also, he had a new person in his life: you. He almost couldn't believe it. Since the evacuation drill, Sam gave him your phone number and you started exchanging texts daily. On your first date, he was extremely nervous, because Steve felt completely out of your league. You were so pretty, intelligent, successful, and well, he was just a once skinny kid from nowhere in particular. But for a miracle, you were interested in him. The first kiss came on that same night, outside your door.

Sam and Bucky were eager for all juicy details the following day and Steve could swear Natasha was listening to the conversation as well. He shared about the kiss, making Bucky celebrate and throw his fists in the air. Sam crossed his arms, stared at him very seriously. Sam made Steve promise he wouldn't hurt his best friend. Or else, they would have problems.

Steve twirled his phone in his hands, checking if there were any new messages from you. Nothing since 9 AM. You told him there was some critical project, Jerry again (gosh, he hated Jerry), and you probably would have to work late again. Since then Steve tried to call you at lunchtime and texted a few more times, during his free time, with no answer. Steve was tempted to ask Sam if he had heard from you when they heard the alarm.

Steve jumped from the chair, running to their truck followed closed by the rest of them. Natasha jumped in the driver's seat with Sam in the passenger seat. Bucky and Steve went behind them.

"What is it, what is it?" Bucky inquired, rubbing his hands in excitement.

"Car collision. A car was crossing the green light when another one hit it, at high speed, making the car flip two times and hit a pole. One driver is okay, but the police don't know the condition of the other one." Natasha informed them and Steve could hear Bucky almost cheer. She hushed to turn the siren, driving fast through the city. Lieutenant Natasha was the best driver in the whole station really.

It was a nice change of pace for that monotonous night, but why did Steve have a bad feeling about this?

-x-

When they arrived, police had already circled the area. There was a crowd forming, some people with their phones out. The police officer informed them the driver who caused the accident had only gotten some minor injuries. They were testing him for DUI at that moment, but they couldn't get any information from the other driver. Not good news: their victim was most likely unconscious.

"I hope they survived this. It looks so bad." The cop reported the team.

The car was destroyed, just a black mass laying on the side against the pole. It was hard to believe there was a human inside there. There were parts of it everywhere splattered on the street, proving the collision was violent.

"That driver must have come super fast. Jesus..." Bucky asserted, shaking his head.

Steve mentally wished the driver would be fine. It looked like there was no gas spilled so the driver could consider themselves very lucky. When they started getting closer, his bad feelings started to get worse. Steve unconsciously looked at Sam who seemed to have the same thoughts as him.

"I will check on the driver and then we can decide how we are going to take this person out," Natasha ordered and they all agreed. Steve knew exactly what that meant: if they were going to recover an injured person or possibly just a body.

Bucky helped Natasha get up into what seemed to be the passenger side and she turned on her flashlight, looking inside. For a moment, they couldn't see her head while she observed inside.

"Fuck..." Natasha cursed. That was strange. Natasha was their most experienced professional and the one that always kept her composure, no matter how bad things had gotten. When she lifted her head, her face had lost all color and her eyes went directly towards Sam and Steve. Bucky helped her get down.

"Lieutenant?" Sam wondered, giving a fast look in Steve's direction.

"There is no easy way to say this," Natasha murmured to herself, her eyes getting watery. Steve's heart was bumping against his chest as he waited for his Lieutenant to speak.

"Is the person alive or dead? Are you okay, Lieutenant?" Bucky questioned. They had never seen Natasha like this.

"It is (Y/N). It is (Y/N) inside that car." Natasha blurted.

Steve's heart stopped beating as his mind went blank. No, it couldn't be. Natasha had to be mistaken. You were safe and at home probably, where you were supposed to be. Safe and alive.

"Natasha, how-?" Bucky started asking, shocked when Sam ran to the car. He jumped to the passenger with no help, looking inside with his flashlight.

It was really you. He would recognize the face of his best friend anywhere. But it didn't look like you. Your head was bleeding. Your legs were bleeding. Your eyes were closed. Your body was immobile. Sam screamed your name once. Twice. You didn't move an inch.

"We have to get them out of here!" Sam's scream came in panic as his head raced with what needed to be done. They needed to get you out of there as soon as possible. He had to get you out of there.

Sam joined the others, Natasha still visibly shocked and Bucky looking between them, waiting for orders. The worse of them was Steve: he was frozen, his blue eyes focused on a random point. Sam knew there was no time for this. You needed them. All of them. He grabbed Steve by his neck and made him stare at his eyes.

"They need us, Rogers. Don't you dare to panic on this right now. We will take (Y/N) out of there."

Steve felt like he was slapped awake by Sam. He was right. You needed him more than ever now. Decided, he nodded. Natasha and Bucky, influenced by Sam's words, ran to the firetruck to grab the needed tools while Sam helped Steve to get up in the passenger side, to get a good look at you.

His eyes got teary as he saw your body. You were laying sideways, your face close to all the glass pieces on the floor. There was so much blood. You looked so hurt and small. He never thought he would have to see you like this in his line of duty. Steve wished he had super powers now: he wanted to rip off that door and take you away and cure you. Make sure nothing else could hurt you.

When Steve got down, Sam warned him Bucky and Natasha were already back. Steve cleaned his eyes, his body shaking with anger, sadness, and fear. In his very recent fireman career, he had never felt so weak before. He felt like he was 14 again when he couldn't protect himself from bullies, needing Bucky to save him. But this time it was even more serious, this was about someone he deeply loved and cared about.

Steve let his eyes wander to where the cops were keeping the bastard who hit you. He started to make his way there, his hands closed in fists. He just wanted the driver to feel a little bit of the pain you were feeling when Sam stood in his way.

"Rogers, don't you fucking dare! (Y/N) needs you now! Are you with us or not?"

"If they are dead, I swear to God, I will kill him," Steve promised, his tone low and dangerous.

"I know. We both will. But for now, let's focus on taking (Y/N) out of this car." Sam sounded serious and Steve knew he was telling the truth. He knew how much Sam loved you.

"ROGERS, WILSON! LESS TALKING!" It was Lieutenant Natasha now ordering now, her face red.

The plan was simple and they had done so many times: stabilize the car, locking it so it didn't turn while they were working on it. Remove the windshield to have access to you, place the neck brace, and check your vitals. Then pull the roof of the car, safely and slowly, using the rescue stretcher to safely remove your body, still held by the safety belt. Bucky had the neck brace ready which was the first thing they had to do when having access to your body. To not damage your spine, Steve thought, his heart heavy.

So they started working. Steve could feel Natasha stare at him and Sam at times. She had recovered faster from the shock of seeing your body and Sam as well, although Sam was as young as Steve in this. Steve let the adrenaline take over: he ignored all the noises, stares, and the presence of other people. There was just you and his team.

When stabilizing the car was done, it was time to cut the windshield. Sam did that part, carefully trying to not hurt you. As soon as the windshield came out, Bucky stepped in. He didn't look at the rest of the team as half of his body disappeared inside the car, checking for your vitals and putting on the neck brace, carefully. Steve was right behind him, observing nervously.

When Bucky exited the car, there was relief in his worried eyes.

"Still breathing and there is a pulse" Bucky stated. Natasha and Sam breath relieved, but Steve had to check for himself. Your body was cold. There was still breathing and a pulse but it was very weak.

"We need to get them out of here, now!" Steve roared. Natasha gave the hydraulic claw to his hands.

"You think you can do this, Steve?" Bucky inquired, unsure.

Steve nodded, without thinking twice. There was no more trace of fear or apprehensiveness on him anymore. His sole focus was on taking you out of there as fast as he could. Without hurting you.

-x-

The whole process didn't take him too long. After Steve was done cutting the roof, it didn't fall to the ground. The roof was supposed to stay in, to help them. Sam and Natasha put the board inside, adjusting your body to directly lay on it.

As they laid the roof down slowly, your body came down with it, laying to your side. Steve and Sam rushed to bring your body out, bending your knees and keeping your feet together. Steve's mind was racing to carry you out straight to the ambulance, but he kept his mind focused.

EMS rolled in with their stretcher and your body was carefully placed in there, still laying to your side. They rushed to cover your body with an aluminum blanket and rolled out of way in direction of their ambulance. Steve rushed to your side but before he could get inside the ambulance, the doctors closed in on his face.

"They are taking them to the closest hospital, five miles away. Come on, we will drive you there!" Sam warned and they all ran back to the firetruck, Steve jumping at the passenger seat now. Natasha turned on the fire alarm, driving straight to the hospital.

Steve could only wish for the best now.

-x-

You opened your eyes and wanted to close them immediately. There was a bright light everywhere and pain. Your whole body was hurting, from your head to your feet. Especially at your ribs. There was a distant electronic beeping sound. The room got on focus and you didn't recognize where exactly you were.

It looked like a hospital room. What had happened? All you remembered was driving back late from work then nothing else. Trying to lift yourself up to observe the place better, you felt gentle hands taking you back to the bed.

"Hey hey, please don't do that. You will hurt yourself."

You looked at the person speaking and blinked a few times. It was your boyfriend Steve Rogers. Dressed in full uniform, except for the helmet. His face was dirty and he looked extremely worried at you.

"Steve?" You barely recognized your voice. It felt like you hadn't spoken in ages. You cleared your dry throat and tried again "What happened?"

"You were in a car accident last night."

A car accident? But how? What?

"We were called in. I was called in. We took you out of there."

The realization slowly kicked in. You didn't remember arriving home last night. You lifted your hands up and saw a bandage on them. It hurt every time you breathed and your head felt so heavy. You touched your head and felt bandages everywhere.

"You guys saved me?" Steve nodded. You looked behind him on a sofa where you find his protective helmet. Steve had dark circles under his eyes, his blonde hair a mess. You don't think Steve noticed or cared about that at the time. So different from the normal Steve Rogers you were used to seeing. The one with his hair always down and tidy, clean face.

Because this Steve had gone through hell. After being left in there by the rest of the crew (Sam made him promise he would send updates as soon as he knew), Steve waited for news about your situation. The doctors had come out for what seemed years later to let him know your condition was serious but stable. You had broken ribs, a concussion (they had to do more exams to check on that), one of your legs and your arm were broken, and some internal bleeding in your belly. They would keep you in the hospital for a night or two to be cautious and until the exams were ready.

After texting the group chat and calling Sam to confirm your condition was serious but stable, Sam told him he would be at the hospital as soon as his shift was done. Sam also informed him of Natasha's message not to worry, they could talk about Steve's shift later on. He rapidly turned off the call when a nurse said he was allowed in. Most eyes turned towards him as he walked on his way to your room. People probably wondering if there was a fire nearby.

When he saw you sleeping in your bed, Steve broke down. The nurse left him for privacy and Steve tried to hold back his tears, putting his hand over his mouth. That didn't work. He turned around not bearing to look at you in that hospital bed. Steve was trying to control himself as his sobs just got worse. His breath became rapid as his heart was beating faster than yours, according to the heartbeat machine. His body hunched over and Steve held his knees, the tears getting worse. He barely could breathe right now. What an embarrassment he was. He never got to stop being that weak teenager who cried when things got difficult. You laying down in that bed proved how worthless he truly was.

Steve looked at you over his shoulder again and remembered Sam's words "(Y/N) needs you." Steve closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly. In and out with your healthy face in his mind. Your happy face. "(Y/N) wouldn't want to see him like this" a mix of Bucky and Sam's voices came into his head and he opened his eyes, feeling much calmer now. He took his helmet, throwing at a sofa nearby, grabbing a chair to sit near you. He had been awake the whole night, waiting for you to open your eyes.

"How long l have been out?" Your voice brought him back to the present.

"Five or six hours. Your family has been informed and they are on their way. Sam is appearing soon as well." Steve stated and you tried to nod, with no success.

"Am I gonna be okay? Did the doctors say anything?"

"They will keep you at night for observation due to a concussion you have. They expect full recovery from you, love." Steve answered, looking down. It was all his fault. If he only had taken you out of that car sooner.

Your hand appeared in his line of vision and Steve lifted his head up. You were crying, desperate for him to hold a part of you. Steve held your hand between his hands, kissing each one of your injured fingers.

"I am sorry. I am so sorry, (Y/N)." Steve mumbled, close to breaking down again.

"Thank you for saving me." You replied back, trying to clean some of the tears with your free hands. You wanted him to hug you, to hold you. You couldn't imagine what he had been through and just wanted to murmur that everything was okay, you both would be okay.

"If I lost you if somehow I didn't save you there, I-I don't know..." Steve confessed, holding your hand against his forehead, tears flowing down his eyes again.

"I am okay. You are okay, Steve." You comforted him between your sobs and without controlling himself, Steve got up from his chair, putting his arms over your shoulders.

It was really what you both needed at the moment. To embrace and to feel you were alive. You were going to be okay. You both were going to be okay.

Bonus:

Jerry got in the Emergency room later that afternoon with a bouquet in his hands. He had heard about your accident from a group message and felt he had to appear. Most of your co-workers had visited you already so he thought he had to show his face, show some sympathy and even cry a little bit if needed.

What surprised him was the number of firefighters in the waiting area. At first, he thought there was a fire going on in the hospital, but since he didn't see anyone screaming, running, or being evacuated, he asked for directions to your room.

What a nice boss he was, Jerry thought to himself. All he needed was a selfie with you in the hospital bed and it would make the directors see how benevolent and how much he cared for his employees.

Jerry knocked on the door and without waiting for any answer, opened it. Damn, you looked bad. He barely recognized with all the bandages around your head. You seemed to be asleep as well, so easy picture. Sitting by your side was a very tall and attractive fireman, with messed blonde hair and blue eyes. He looked as Jerry walked in.

"May I help you?"

Jerry noticed two other men, dressed in casual clothes. One was in the corner of the sofa, black hair, head against the sofa with his eyes closed. The other one was sitting on the edge of the sofa, behind the tall blonde one, his black eyes scanning Jerry up and down. All of those men were so attractive. You never told Jerry you had such sexy friends.

"Y-yes. Hi. My name is Jerry."

The two men waited.

"I am (Y/N)'s boss. I heard about the accident and decided to come to check on them. They don't look very well, so I brought flowers" Jerry announced, slowly getting close to the bed. There were flowers everywhere and get-well cards.

The tall blonde one was up from the chair before Jerry could get closer to the bed.

"I don't think you should be here, Jerry." The dark-eyed one said, getting up as well. Jerry gulped, confused.

"I-I don't know..."

"I don't know if it is your fault or not, Jerry." said the one that had his eyes closed. He lifted up his face from the sofa, his blue eyes piercing him with disgust " But everyone in this room has been kinda pissed off with the asshole that almost killed our friend. And since we can't take on him since he is in jail and (Y/N) was working late because of you, well..."

"It is not my fault this accident happened! I didn't make them work so late!" Jerry tried to justify and he didn't even know why. It wasn't his fault you have gotten yourself into an accident, anyway.

"You are lying. They had been working late because of you. (Y/N) woke up and told me about the project." The blonde tall one said, dangerously getting close to him.

Jerry's soul had instantly left his body. He felt his legs trembling as he had three pairs of angry eyes at him. He could try to run but what about those firefighters outside? It was clear they were there for you. He was screwed.

"It is not my fault, okay?! (Y/N) has been clumsy for so long, never looking where they are going. It was a matter of time before something like this would happen. If I lose my job Monday because of them, I will, I will..."

Jerry felt being pulled by his shirt and shoved against a wall, the bouquet falling to the ground. The tall blonde one was holding him there, staring at him as if he could kill him. Jerry's legs were trembling even more as he saw the other men get up. Oh, he was so freaking screwed. He closed his eyes, whimpering in fear.

"He isn't even worth it, Steve."

Steve held him there for a few more seconds, before letting him go. Jerry had to hold into the wall to not fall to the ground.

"Get the fuck out of here." Steve warned, his voice low. Then he turned away from Jerry, his attention going back to you.

Jerry didn't need to hear twice. He ran away from that hospital, cursing you and your extremely sexy friends mentally. When you got back to work, if you ever did, he had some questions to make you.

MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST

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bonky-n-steeb · 4 years ago

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𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴

𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.

ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ

Oh, lawd! i have to post everything again! Send me all your energy. If you wanna be tagged, just inform me!

Also, I’ll be changing the story by a little, (or by a lot, idk) from my previous version.

You were feeling like John Travolta from the music video of Stayin’ Alive. Vibing to your own rhythm, living your own freedom. Attending college miles away from your hometown, you were the captain of your ship. Though you loved your parents more than anything, you were glad for the freedom granted upon you.

Your Freshmen year had just begun and you had already made a few friends. But what you didn’t want to accept just yet was your crush on one of them, Bucky. With his steely blue eyes and boyish charm, even a goddess might fall for him, and you were just a mortal. You were simply happy with being friends as you believed he would never like you and well, a little crush never hurt nobody.

Completing your shift in a local bookstore, just outside the campus, you were walking back, lost in your own thoughts. What caught your attention was a group of howling high schoolers; from the look of it, they were barely a year to two younger than you. A group of tall and popular kids were bullying a skinny, helpless dude; ufff the usual cliché you thought to yourself. What you failed to notice though was his bleeding nose.

You were a kind soul, always helping others, but you were no fool. All alone in an unknown town, you weren't going to confront the burly teens who were twice your own size. After giggling and cracking some stupid jokes on the poor dude trying to impress a girl, they left him and that’s when you noticed all the blood. You quickly crossed the road and walked towards him. He seemed smaller than he was as he was crouching down and trying to rub all the blood.

“Hey! Pinch your nose, don’t disturb it by rubbing.” you said while bending down. “Uhh, okay... thanks!” he looked at you with big doe eyes and you were utterly mesmerized by the blue oceans he had for his eyes. “Do you.. Do you need something else kid? Where do you live?” you asked giving him a candy and your water bottle. “I’m no kid!” he exclaimed and you flinched.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. You are helping me and here I am shouting at you.” You could clearly see remorse in his eyes and you wondered why would someone hurt him? “yeah, yeah.. It's Okay... now have this candy, the sugar will help you feel better.” you said with a soft smile. “thank you so much... and by the way I live two streets across. I mean I can go by myself, I'm a grown-up.. But...” he trailed off and you helped him get up.

“I’m Steve” he tried his best to smile and you followed by sharing your own name. And with that his chatter train began, he explained that he was just trying to help another girl getting bullied, when the bullies decided to change their target and chase Steve instead.

“you should wear your own mask first and then help others wear theirs.” you quipped and instantly bit your tongue. “Hmm, what?” he asked genuinely curious. “what I meant is that you did what is correct and very brave, but sometimes you gotta think for yourself too. But these are just my thoughts.” you shrugged. “I’ll remember that.” he said with a genuine expression. And after a million thank yous he finally went in his house. By the size of his house, he seemed rich and you wondered maybe this wasn't that cliché.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

The next day, you were walking back the same road, when you thought of Steve. He really was a kind and sweet person. This world needed more of people like him. And just then you saw him smiling brightly and waving at you, his nose bandaged. He had a huge box in his hand.

“Heyyyyy! Thank you for helping me yesterday. So I just... kinda got this as a ... a token of appreciation. I considered you might like donuts, so I got you this.” He said rubbing his nape. His cheeks had become so red he looked like a ripe tomato. “well, if you haven’t already given me diabetes by saying so many thank yous, after eating sooo many donuts I’ll surely get it.” At that you both chuckled and the atmosphere became lighter. As you picked a donut, he looked at you with such admiration you thought you would melt then and there.

Suddenly with a stern expression you asked “what if it’s drugged?” His eyes widened and he stuttered, “I... I would never do that ...” he looked down and you thought he might cry. “hey waittt.. don’t get so sad.. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I was just joking. I have this really bad habit of saying things when I shouldn’t. God I just ruined everything.” You just made a mental note not to joke around him, he seemed to be quite emotional. Though it was going to be difficult to tame your tongue. “don’t be. I just take things too literally.... anyway let’s have some donuts what say?” He said with such shine in his eyes you wondered whether he was sad just a moment before.

You both walked up to your university campus, munching on donuts. You both shared things about yourselves. You told him how you were passionate in becoming a doctor. He on the other hand talked about his struggles in studying. “will you help me? You are so smart and bright, will you help me study if I have a doubt or something?” he asked giving his big doe eyes.

You weren’t going to agree at first, you had just met him a day ago. But after looking in those calm blue pools of his eyes you agreed. Seeing the joy on his face, you wondered whether he just won an Oscar.

What you didn’t know was that Steve had already fallen in love with you, yes love, he was convinced that you were the one for him, his one true love. Not a moment had he been able to think of anything but you since he had met you. You were everything he needed and wanted and much more. He was simply desperate to spend more time with you.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

It had been around six months since you met Steve. Over the time you two had turned out to be best friends. While Steve had fallen even more in love with you, you had fallen hopelessly in love with bucky. While you always told bucky about Steve and vice versa, you never confessed to Steve about your love for Bucky, thus furthermore increasing his hopes. You desperately wished to make Steve and Bucky meet. They were two important people in your life and you more than anything wished that they got together well.

Today was the day when you decided to arrange a small meet and greet at the park where you and Steve met every day. You and Bucky walked together towards the tree where you usually sat with Steve waiting there for you. You knew both would like each other, but somewhere deep within your gut you were getting a not-so good feeling about this.

Steve’s eyes lit up seeing you but as they turned to Bucky, it felt as if all the energy had been sucked out of him. You didn’t like that one bit. “Bucky!?” Steve exclaimed in half disappointment and half fear. “You both... you both know each other?” you ask bewildered. You tried chuckling to lighten the mood but by the looks of it they were sworn enemies, but you prayed that you were wrong. “yeah, we know each other a little too well... Uh... We were good friends once.” Steve quietly admitted.

All this time Bucky had his jaw clenched, dragging in a deep breath he began. “I knew it! I knew it would be you, you little fucker! You want to have everything don’t you? Goddammit! I had this feeling it was you but I thought it was too much of a coincidence, but no. fate had to be so cruel.” you were shocked to see Bucky's sudden outburst. You wondered what conspired between the two, as either hadn’t ever mentioned the other.

You were snapped out of your thoughts with Bucky calling your name. “let’s go. I don’t want to see him even for a minute more and neither do you.” Bucky started pulling your hand but you stopped him “Bucky no. I guess you have some misunderstanding; Steve is a good person. And you don’t get to tell me who to talk to and who to not.”

Suddenly Bucky turned back to Steve, anger written all over his face. “You didn’t tell her, huh, did you? Don’t worry I'll tell her. Steve is the son of Joseph Rogers and he is the freaking Don Corleone of this area. Do you know how my father died? Steve’s father had him killed just because unknowingly he provided shelter to his father’s fugitive. Steve just pretends to be a caring, emotional person but he is a snake behind that mask, so is everyone in his family.” towards the end Bucky was in tears and you were in utter shock. Now that you tried to remember, Steve never really did tell you much about his family. And the fact that Steve wasn’t denying any single allegation made you want to puke your guts out.

“You have taken too much from me. But not this. Not her. Not the woman I love more than anything.” Bucky said it out loud in the heat of the moment. You were too dumbstruck to even blink. Did Bucky just confess that he loved you?

Bucky turned to you and held your arm with such softness you wondered if he was just now screaming his lungs out at Steve. “I know I can't tell you who to be with, and I promise I never will in the future, but trust me you want to be caught up with him or his family. And still, if you choose him, well then, I can’t be with you.”

You knew you had to make a choice then and there, there was no going back, and you chose Bucky.

#chris evans #sebastian stan #mcu #marvel #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #mob!steve #dark!bucky #mob!steve x reader #dark!bucky x reader

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80s4life · 3 years ago

Text

The Thought Of Losing You

Word Count: 2,507

Status: Not Requested!

Fandom: Lethal Weapon 1987 {1}

A/N: This follows sort of around the ending of the first Lethal Weapon film where both Riggs, Murtaugh, and Rianne were being tortured in separate ways. I know it sounds brutal, but trust me, it isn't that bad. AND! Happy ending! (Spent all night on this!)

Relationship: Martin Riggs x Reader

Summary: When a team is formed, Roger Murtaugh and Martin Riggs are solidified together once Y/N is added to the mix, squeezing in perfectly. Although very fiery and stubborn at heart, childish games and teasing became common place for sergeant Y/N and Martin, unable to let the other out-trash their own trash talk. But, when there is a complication during the final breakthrough of the whereabouts of the heroin-trafficking cartel, Y/N is separated from the duo. Only coming together when a kidnapping sends her in a desperate spiral trying to save the people she loves, especially Riggs.

Warnings: violent themes, kidnap, manipulation, torture, violence, language, attempted!self-surrender/suicide, 18+ audience suggested, read at own risk

Masterlist Lethal Weapon Masterlist

Prompts: #67, #68, #100 (from this list @palettes-and-prompts) & #6, #8, #17 (from this list @waiting-for-motivation)

{I do not own any of the prompts, credits to original owners above, nor do I own the gif below -> @leofromthedark}

Strolling around to the back of the supposed drug dealer's extravagant condo, Murtaugh, Riggs, and I engage in light conversation, silently noting and observing our surroundings. Stopping just near the edge of the rather expensive-looking below ground pool, Murtaugh and Riggs catch sight of two brunette women inside. Rolling my eyes, I expect Riggs to do something flirtatious, a painstakingly common reaction to almost every woman he lays eyes on. Every woman... except me. Yet, I pay no mind, Riggs' crazy nature probably too much for me to handle anyway.

Murtaugh flashes his gun, indicating to the women that he is armed. In a flash of a second, just merely after he had shown his weapon, the women duck and run from within the glass-paned wall, just in time for a man to blast a shot from behind. More specifically, the source being a shed occupying the space on the opposite side of the pool we resided on, destroying bits of its siding from the sheer distance and voracity of his attempt of subduing at least one of us.

But, we came prepared, although we were slightly taken aback, Murtaugh's swift abilities with a gun coming in handy as he lands on the drug dealer's right knee, lower thigh area. Splitting off, Murtaugh and I take either end of the pool's side, desperately trying to corral the person of interest. All the while as Riggs takes the women from in the house outside and to the nearest tree, in case of them being suspects as well, handcuffing their wrists together around the tree.

Once the task is done, Riggs hurries over to our aid, following our one, sole purpose: keeping the suspect alive for questioning.

Coming around the perimeter of the pool, Murtaugh reminds Riggs of this rule, replaying it to refresh his sometimes questionable mind. This, however, does not work in our favor as the man pulls yet another gun, this time a pistol, as Riggs had went to pull the man up.

"He's got a gun!" I scream, yet it's all in vain, as Riggs tries to act just as fast as his reflexes would've allowed, lifting the man's aimed arm as the trigger was pulled.

Yelping in surprise, I clench my teeth as the copper red liquid instantly encompasses the injured area, jerking as far away from the incident as possible.

"Y/N!" Murtaugh yells, instantly coming to my side as I go crashing to the concrete floor, catching my head and my left side as I now slowly lean into the ground below me, clutching the stinging injury to the right of my abdomen.

As Murtaugh had come to my side, Riggs took care of the suspect, unfortunately not being able to accomplish our sole purpose of being here, but overall getting rid of the threat.

"Cocksucker," he all but grunts, as he makes sure to shoot the man once more, pissed at the fact that I had gotten shot, although that fact being unbeknownst to me. "I'll call the ambulance," he all put spits out some time later, not making any attempt to check on my well being nor even making eye contact, stalking back through the side gate we had entered through.

//Some time later//

Now nestled safely and securely, I lay within the gloomy walls of the hospital, hooked up with some anesthetics and monitors, all for separate purposes. The stitches surely going to leave an awesome scar, only adding to my aggravation and exhaustion as the day finally settles and the slightest of movements constantly sending sharp pains within my whole body.

The doctors, coming in every so often, had reassured me of a discharge after the course of at least 2-4 days, only needing to ensure the proper sanitary measures are used and stitches being durable and strong without issues or tears.

Staring off at one of the four blank and colorless walls, in a daze, my ears perk up at the sound of a knock on my door, followed by Roger and Martin entering the room.

Handing me a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates, I smile at Roger as he pulls a chair beside my bed, asking, "How ya' feeling, Shortie? How're they treatin' ya' here?"

Giggling at the nickname, I respond with an, "I'm doing just as good as I can I guess. It's not so bad here either. The nurses are nice, although they're all pitiful glances and meek gestures, coming in and out as quickly as possible. I guess bullet wounds aren't their preferred cases?" I joke lightly, trying to lighten the tension in the room.

Roger catches on instantly, having caught wind on Martin's rather uncharacteristically quiet sulking in the far corner of the room. Turning to look at him briefly, he all but shrugs at me as he comes up with no response or solution to his partner's unknown issue.

Checking the time, I make up an excuse, assuming Riggs just didn't want to be here maybe? "Damn, look at the time...It's almost 9 pm guys, don't wanna be late for Trish's cooking do ya'?"

"Shit, really? Come on Riggs, you know the ass whoopin' I'm gonna get? Let's go, minus well feed you too, huh?" Murtaugh says, getting his coat and squeezing my shoulder, giving me a sympathetic look that I swipe away quickly. Riggs just gets up, side-eyeing me once quickly, but above all, ignores my presence and leaves the room. With one final look from Rog, he shuts the door, leaving me to my boredom for the remainder of my stay.

//Some time later//

Having been discharged, Roger had caught me up on the recent news, and how they had left to finish the job a day before I had gotten out of the hospital, that being yesterday evening, and it now being a full 24 hours of no communication from them.

This had struck me as odd, given that they were very advanced in their fields. Finding the whereabouts was the last big hump of every mission, the rest supposedly coming easy. This had all changed as soon as I had stepped foot onto my front porch, a not left hanging slightly within the pocket of my mailbox.

The words shocking me to the core;

"Come to xxxxxxxxxx if you want to save your partners. 8 o'clock. Sharp."

Rushing to my car, I waste no time, pulling out of the driveway and to the given destination, the time being almost too close to the deadline as I preferred it to be.

Once outside of the destination, an old, run-down warehouse stands gloomily in front of me as I slip my gun into the waistband of my jeans. Another, tucked against my ankle within my boots.

I move quietly, staying alert as I enter the warehouse quietly, instantly hit with the cries of what could only belong to Riggs, my heart wrenching. A new feeling that I instantly push aside. Following the pained screams, inching closer to the source, I catch wind of yet another's set of booming cries as well, recognizing it as Murtaugh.

With this new set of knowledge, my heart does another painful flip, as the sheer terror now courses through my veins as if it was my blood. They were the toughest men I had ever known. At least that is how I had always felt, how I feel right now, but with their pained screams, it makes me feel utterly hopeless.

Drawing my gun, I aim it before me, right beside the wall I hide on, lining it up around the corner, my full intention at being able to at least shoot down one of the three men guarding one of my teammates; their identity unknown to me at the moment with the unfortunate dimness.

Taking the shot, I hit one man, the two now swinging to guard the area, looking my direction. The man held captured, Riggs, tied to the ceiling, consistently doused in water, making the homemade shock therapy increasingly unbearable with multiple relentless blows.

"Come out now, Little Rabbit, or I pull the trigger," a booming voice commands, me now peeking out from the corner to see none other than Mr. Joshua, the man we've been after, pressing a firm gun to Riggs' limp form.

Coming out from my hiding space, Joshua motions for his goons to grab me, now taking Riggs off the hook, and into another room. The room we are led to happens to be the room Murtaugh is in, his daughter beside him, both incarcerated and handcuffed. Moving Riggs to the chair beside the pair, he is tied down just as I am, the four of us now completely helpless.

Mr. Joshua, confident and prideful of his work, moves Riggs to the center of the room, starting his interrogation, answering with beatings and threats here and there. The cause: the information given by Hunsaker on his heroin-trafficking cartel.

Just as Joshua leaves yet another powerful blow, Riggs' strength starts to run low, just watching him making me squirm in my chair, wanting nothing but to take him in my arms and drag him as far away from here as possible.

"If you have to kill one of us, kill me. Take me instead, please? Just stop! Stop all of this now," I say breathlessly, doing anything in my will to get their hands off of Riggs.

"What would I want with someone as pathetic as you?" Mr. Joshua answers bitterly.

"Information. That's all you want right? You just want details about the business, you went through all this trouble, and for what? Just to kill us in the end? I know your type. You can't get off without getting what you want, and this would've all gone to waste without it," I respond, determined now.

"So, what do you want? To strike a deal?" I nod. "So, if I let them go, you'll give me what I want?" I nod again.

"Y/N no," Riggs says, now worried about what you're going up against.

"Shut it," Joshua states strictly.

"Y/N, listen to Riggs! You can't do this!" Murtaugh adds, now borderline terrified as everyone in this room is filled with the most important people in his life, all threatened with the only thing that could take them all away: death.

"SHUT IT!" Joshua all but screams now. "Fine. I'll take you up on your little deal. However, you fuck with me, I'm killing them."

"I don't agree with you unless you cut them loose right now, and I am assured that they are out of this building," I say confidently, yet shaking with fear.

He nods his agreement, showing a security camera view from one of his computers, watching as Rianne, Roger, and Martin are all led back outside, handcuffs removed, and all moved into my car, them pulling away from the warehouse.

Pulling the computer's view away from me now, he turns to me sharply, my gaze turning upward as my arms are still strapped behind my back, behind the chair. "Now," he starts, the voice strict like a parent beginning to question a toddler, "The information. What did Hunsaker tell you?"

Taking a breath in through my nose, I exhale through my mouth as I ponder my response, "Just as much as he's told you."

With this, Mr. Joshua lets out a scream, landing a punch to the jaw, my body leaning in on the stitches. Taking notice to my sharp intake of breath from the movement, Joshua uses that to his advantage, grabbing a knife, lifting my shirt, and pressing the cool metal along the line of handiwork. The only thing keeping my skin together at the moment.

"Let's try this again, what information did you receive from Hunsaker?"

"I told you. I. Don't. Know."

"Bullshit!" He digs into the skin, smirking at the cry of agony and shaking engulf my body.

"I-I don't know anymore than you do! Please! He was killed before we got anything from him!"

"Bullshit," he answers playfully now, dragging the blade of the knife wherever he pleases now, enjoying my pleads.

As he opens up my stitched bullet wound, he goes to start at another spot, the attempt being short-lived as a bullet wound of his own goes through his skull, the source standing in the doorway alongside Murtaugh with Rianne tucked under her father's arm.

Crying now, I sigh in relief as Riggs rushes to me, cutting me loose and lifting my limp body. Carrying me to the car, we make our way to the hospital once more.

During the wait and multiple switching of rooms, Riggs stays, waiting for me, only getting up once I emerge from the exit, patched up and clean. He smirks at me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, leading me to Rog's car, taking us to the only place we find comfort; his house.

//Some time later//

Getting settled in at the Murtaugh residence, Riggs and I share Rianne's room, which was so generously offered as one of the youngest decide to have a sleepover with her.

Looking over at Riggs, he looks at me, covered in open cuts and bruises, dirt and grime, and, taking a first aid kit from Rianne's desk, I make it my priority to get them fixed up.

"What are you doing?" Riggs asks, tiredly amused.

"Taking care of you, it's the least I can do," I reply determined once again.

"Awww! Someone's got a little crush on me huh?"

"Hey! When I finish patching you up, I swear to God I'm gonna kick your ass for making me worry about you," I say jokingly. Riggs replying by grabbing me by the waist and pulling me closer.

Locking eyes on one another now, I couldn't help but joke once more, adding a sly, "Is this the moment that we kiss?"

Giggling, he looks down, placing his head on my chest, murmuring, "I think I'm in love with you and I don't know what to do. I mean, I've been married before, and I- I lost her and I don't wanna lose you too- I couldn't live if you go too, I-"

Grabbing his chin, I tilt his head upwards to meet my gaze, "Look at me, Riggs. Look at me. I love you."

Eyes watering, he leans in for a kiss, my hands finding way to his hair, while his pull my hips into his lap, wrapping lightly around them. After leaning back for air, we giggle once more, leaning our foreheads against one another.

"I never want to ever feel the fear of the thought of losing you again, okay? So don't be a dumbass, Dumbass."

"Yeah, yeah," Riggs answers once more, leaning in for another kiss.

#mel gibson #danny glover #traci wolfe #lethal weapon #lethal weapon 1989 #martin riggs #rianne murtaugh #martin riggs x reader #female reader insert #martin riggs imagine #lethal weapon imagine #roger murtaugh #mel gibson imagine #mel gibson x reader #1989 #80s #90s

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bucky-at-bedtime · 4 years ago

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Stucky Fic Recs

So basically I went through all of my ao3 bookmarks and collated a list of some of my favourites (I couldn't fit all of them on this list, so if anyone shows interest there might be a part two).

Please read tags and descriptions of the works before reading, some of them are pretty dark or extremely horny so just make sure you check that the fic is for you!!

Please please please send me your favourite fics in return! I am always happy to hear fic recs, headcanons and any other ideas/comments you all have!

Without any further ado, here are a few of my favourite Stucky fics:

‘Not Easily Conquered’ series by dropdeaddream, WhatAreFear

Rating: M, Words: 117,692

https://archiveofourown.org/series/115516

“I told you, you heard me: I told you never to follow me into Hell. Now I’m not vain enough to think that’s why you’re out here now — if there’s any person in what’s left of this God forsaken planet who’s part of a bigger picture, it’d be you. But I’ll keep saying it until it sticks. You got nothing to prove. I’m not worth much, I damn well know that, but I’ll ask you anyway: Stay for me. If you leave me alone in this world I’ll turn into something terrible. I’ll turn into the nasty creature that’s growing inside me. This war, it’ll swallow me whole”

[To me, this fic is like the classic Stucky 101 fanfic – if you're a Stucky fan and you haven't read this, I highly recommend it. The authors explore the Steve/Bucky relationship in such an interesting, tragic, emotive way and I cry every time I read it. I couldn't praise this work enough.]

‘Ain’t No Grave’ series by spitandvinegar

Rating: M-E, Words: 131,789

https://archiveofourown.org/series/426577

"Yeah, he never calls me by my name," Steve says. "It's always champ, ace, hotshot, that kinda thing."

"Man, that is flirting," Sam says. "That nicknames thing, he is flirting with you. He's just working his way up to calling you baby or something."

Steve goes redder than a damn coke can. Sam pumps his fist. "Yes, I am so right, I am wise as hell. He did, didn't he?"

"He called me sweetheart," Steve says grimly, "because he's a drug addict with brain damage."

"Or because he looooooves you," Sam says. Captain America throws a cookie at his head. Sam eats it, because he deserves a treat for being so damn wise.”

[I'm currently re-reading this fic and absolutely loving it. The way spitandvinegar writes Bucky's road towards recovery and Steve's entire characterisation – it's all just so good. It's another one that covers some pretty dark themes, so make sure you're checkin those tags!]

'Einherjar' by thecommodore_squid

Rating: M, Words: 71297

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157024/chapters/16249814

But Steve was fine.

Sure, he hadn’t seen Bucky in months, and sometimes he was at the punching bag so long that his skin started to peel off to expose the bones of his fingers, and sometimes he couldn’t find the energy to drag himself out of bed, and sometimes he went weeks without sleeping, and sometimes he thought about throwing himself head-first off the nearest tall structure, but he was fine.

He was absolutely, perfectly, one-hundred percent, fucking fine.

AKA In which Steve learns how to deal with his shit, and Bucky learns how to stop leaving.

[basically the definition of a recovery fic, I absolutely adore it. This is tragic and amazing and makes me cry and smile. It’s got a bunch of fantastic cameos and It really just ticks so many of my boxes.]

‘Like real People do’ by 2bestfriends

Rating: E, Words: 67,775

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887376/chapters/47103217

“"Ask me what?" demands Bucky. "I didn't hear a question."

Steve licks his lips. "Will you stay with me? Will you come back home, Buck?"

"Home," repeats Bucky in a small voice, and then he's crying for real.”

[Basically soft lumberjack!steve and lonely twink!bucky being horny and in love. This is a comfort fic for that’s really just about my favourite boys falling in love.]

‘This City Bleeds it’s Aching Heart’ by anonymous

Rating: E, Words: 34,537

https://archiveofourown.org/works/835829/chapters/1591736

“The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.”

[The plot in this one is just a good time and i think it’s just a really fun take on the fake relationship trope. Also some really great characterisation.]

‘Home is Wherever I’m With You’ by cydonic

Rating: E, Words: 88,570

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18868081/chapters/44783077

“Bucky kisses Steve and Emma goodbye before they leave for school, which is why – partway down the road – Amelia turns to him and asks, “why are you and Daddy kissing?”

Which is definitely a conversation Bucky’s been expecting since Steve just did it, but it still takes him by surprise. Again, he thinks he should wait for Steve, but Amelia’s not the sort of kid to let anything rest. Plus, Bucky’s taking her to school where she will undoubtedly share the story with anyone who’ll listen.

He also stops to think that Steve’s asked him to stay, which means Bucky must be trusted with their happiness and well-being, at least in some small capacity.

Bucky clears his throat and searches for some explanation that will help Amelia make sense of this sudden turn of events. “Because we love each other,” is all he comes up with.”

[Bear with me, this is a House Flipper!Bucky Au. And dad!Steve. I just love a found family trope I’m not gonna lie to you. Another comfort fic that warms my lil heart.]

‘Lucky Seven’ by BetteNoire (WeAreWolves)

Rating: E, Words: 94,364

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7033105/chapters/16002481

“Back from where--?” James says, the sentence ending in a distinctly undignified squawk as Steve sweeps him up in his arms, bridal-style, and starts carrying him upstairs.

James tenses momentarily then relaxes into Steve's arms and throws back his head and starts laughing. The laughter peals out of him, his body shaking, his amusement occasionally broken by little gasps of pain.

“What's so funny?” Steve frowns.

“You are,” James says, still giggling. “You're ridiculous, Steve Rogers.”

“Behave. Or I will drop you,” Steve growls.

[The shrunkyclunks modern AU of my dreams featuring Mechanic!Bucky and cap!Steve and some really beautiful writing.]

'Dishonor On Your Cow' by mandarou

Rating: E, Words: 111695

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659162/chapters/23589582

“Sergeant Barnes?”

“Oh, hell no, don’t call him that, man,” Sam warned.

“Captain Fuck Off!” Barnes shouted over him. “Fight me!”

Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.

“I’m gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,” Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnes’s struggling under him. “This is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.”

“Captain goddamn America!” Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.

Steve cleared his throat again. “I’ve been looking for you,” he told Barnes.

“I hope you brought lube this time!” Barnes shouted.

[I’m not gonna lie it took me a minute to get into this one but by the end I was crying with them, laughing with them, and just really in my feels. Some very insane things happen so here’s a few of my favourite tags: ‘Seargent Barnes is done with your Shit Steve’, ‘blatant disrespect of a man’s motorcycle’, ‘Steve you ding dong’ and ‘PR nightmares in the form of Supersoldiers’.]

Propietary Information by Notlucy

Rating: E, Words: 85141

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964402/chapters/27054777

“Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.”

[We were never gonna get through this list without a Sugar Daddy!AU (I have a weakness). This one is… saucy and sexy and sweet and uh pretty kinky so read the tags and all. I’ve read it a few times, and I love the way the author has written Steve in this one, he just makes my heart go '!!!']

‘Roots Have Grown’ by AustinB

Rating: M, Words: 17280

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912451/chapters/15767941

“Bucky is a mildly agoraphobic veteran with funds to spare, who becomes enamored with the cute blonde guy in his building.

So when Steve mentions needing a roommate to cut down on rent costs, Bucky decides it would be a good idea to volunteer.”

[Another weakness of mine is Roommate AUs, and this one is phenomenal. I tend to go for post serum!Steve stories more often, but this is a pre-serum Steve that I just adore.]

‘The Cold Never Bothered me Anyway’ by icoulddothisallday

Rating: E, Words:75562

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11728869/chapters/26425530

“Bucky Barnes has spent his whole life in a state of mild hypothermia. Steve Rogers has spent the last 70 years in the ice. The two things aren’t related until, suddenly, they are. Shrunkyclunks soulmate AU (AKA the awkward bb au).”

[I think this is the only soulmate AU in my bookmarks? I would totally be down to read more though! This one is really fun and really enjoy Bucky’s characterisation here!]

'War, Children' by Nonymos

Rating: E, Words: 106615

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5373050/chapters/12409394

“After Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort.

Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.”

[An interesting exploration of Bucky’s PTSD with a trans!Steve which was a cool take on his character too!]

'The Company You Keep' by orbingarrow

Rating: G, Words: 51191

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468605/chapters/7613072

“Hurt, hungry, and on the run, the Winter Soldier doesn’t have a lot of safe options to go to for help. Figuring that any friend of Captain Steve Rogers is unlikely to be HYDRA, Bucky takes a chance and reaches out to the first Avenger he can find.

It works out better than anyone could have expected. Eventually.”

[hurt/comfort, recovering Bucky, protective Steve, found family and domestic avengers, need I say more? I absolutely loved this one]

#stucky #stucky fics #stucky fic recs #fic rec

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justkending · 4 years ago

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The Number One Rule. Chapter 16.

Series Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 5700+

A/N: This chapter is going to give us quite a bit of background information and some throwback memories. I really enjoyed writing this one and creating a past for these characters. All of them. Let me know what you think! I’m so excited to share this one with you all:)

Chapter Sixteen:

“You know, I thought that we were close enough that you could come to me with this kind of thing. That you wouldn’t feel like you had to hide it from me. Y/N and you both,” he said with pursed lips. “Guess I was wrong.”

With that he turned back and walked to his car. Bucky watched as he started the engine, pulled out, and disappeared.

What the hell kind of mess just happened?

Bucky stood there for a second. He couldn’t wrap his head around what just went down in the slightest. Steve was no longer angry at him, he caught onto that. Or at least he thought that was the case.

No, Steve was disappointed. That was far worse than hatred coming from your best friend. Coming from anyone really, but the person you’ve been joined at the hip to, for 26 years? Yeah. That punches you in the gut and knocks all the wind out of you.

Eventually, remembering Y/N was upstairs probably pacing the ground and biting her nails not knowing what was happening, he started moving to the back porch steps.

He wasn’t even three steps into the kitchen before Y/N was around the corner rushing to him.

“What happened?” she said looking up at him and instantly putting her hands around his upper arm. “Is that blood? Did he hit you?” she said gently, but urgently as she grazed over the split lip. “Oh, I’m going to murder him,” she said through her teeth, immediately moving to the back door.

Bucky caught her by the waist and pulled her back into him.

“Don’t. Don’t. He’s not out there. He left,” he explained as he tugged her back into the kitchen.

“He left? He just punched you and left?” she questioned. A fire in her eyes swirling just as much as the storm Steve had in his earlier. The types of rage are completely opposite, but at the same time just as furious.

“We talked after he punched me, but can’t say I didn’t deserve it.” Disappointment dripped from his own words.

“You didn’t deserve it, B. No one deserves getting punched about something like this.” The fire started to dim as she focused her energy back on the brunette that still had her wrapped in his arms by her waist. His eyes downcast, looking as if in another world. “Hey, talk to me. What happened?” Gently she brought her hand to his cheek and convinced him to look at her. “Talk to me, please.”

They moved to the living room and sat on the couch facing each other. Bucky had almost seemed distant, as though touching or being close to her now was a crime. No doubt Steve’s words had an effect on him in the moment.

He explained pieces of what happened. Mainly just how Steve was upset thinking they were sleeping together, and when he cleared that up, he had just expressed his disappointment of the two. He was upset and deeply hurt that they felt like they had to hide this from him.

“Could he blame us though? He literally split your lip after finding out,” she motioned to him, scooting closer to place the ice covered by a washcloth they got earlier, to his lip.

“I’ve taken harder hits, doll. And even if he got me pretty good, I could tell he was holding back at least some.” He placed his hand over hers and sent a sad smile before taking the homemade ice pack for himself.

“This is going to be hard to come back from with him, isn’t it?” she asked, saddened by the pain she caused her brother. Bucky could see multiple thoughts running through her head as her eyes moved back and forth while looking down. “We aren’t going to end this though, are we?”

Her tone broke Bucky’s heart hearing her say that. The pain, worry, and complete devastation of the idea was playing like a movie in her eyes.

“What? No!” he said, quickly shutting that idea down as he dropped the rag and grabbed both her hands. “I love Steve and I would do anything for him, but I have to draw a line- Well, I have to draw a line when it affects my happiness.” She looked at him hopeful. “In the end, I know he’ll come around. I’m not going to lose you just because of this hiccup. Sure, I don’t really know how long Steve’s going to hate me, but we’ll work it through. Nothing can hurt us that bad. You know that.”

“I do, but it still worries me.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N/N. Really, he’ll come around. It’ll just take time.”

___________________

And boy was it taking its sweet ass time…

Two weeks had passed. Bucky and Y/N still went about their love life the same way. Not wanting to rub it in Steve’s face, they steered clear of Bucky’s shared home with him. Bekah had been talking to a guy herself, and spent a lot of nights over there, so they took advantage of her empty apartment when they could.

Luckily they wouldn’t have to worry about that too long as Y/N was looking into renting a flat herself to get some of her independence back from coming home. Of course, she worried about her mom, but Sarah was sweet and said she understood and was excited for her. She was taking more shifts at the hospital anyway, so they rarely saw each other with their opposite schedules. Sarah did make her promise Sunday dinners to continue, as it was tradition.

Speaking of, Steve had conveniently had a work thing come up each time, so he had missed the past two weeks.

“This is so unlike him. He usually moves his work schedule around Sunday dinners, not the other way around,” Sarah sighed as she handed a bowl of a roast over to her daughter.

“He’s not too happy with me, Ma. I think he’s avoiding me,” she mumbled. She was all happy to be over before her mom mentioned him.

“Why would he do that? You just got home a little over 2 months ago. That’s barely anytime I would hope for you two to start a fight up. Let alone one that I’m realizing is going on two weeks,” she said with a knowing look as she sat across from Y/N.

“It’s hard to explain. He has a good reason, but he’s also being childish about it,” she said poking at the potatoes and beef on her plate. An old irish recipe.

“Hmmm, I see.” Causally, Sarah went back to eating as if her understanding wasn’t questionable.

“You see? What exactly do you see?” she asked tilting her head and raising an eyebrow at her mom. She knew that look. It was the, ‘mom knows everything, even if you think she doesn’t,’ look.

“It’s quite obvious to anyone who has eyes, but I’m not going to put my comments where they don’t belong.” Again, so casual as she took a drink of water and went back to eating.

“Sarah Rogers, you little spy. What do you know?” Y/N chuckled. Her tone was joking, but deep down intrigued.

“Why don’t you say it dear? I don’t want to have my foot in my mouth if I’m wrong,” she gestured. “Not that I’ll be wrong, but I’ll give you a chance,” she winked.

She eyed her mom for a second. The two sending the same stares and telepathically talking.

Then it hit her.

“Oh my GOD! You know?!” Y/N jumped almost out of her seat, but considering the table was in the way, she sat up straight and hit her knee. “Ow, shit.”

“Language,” her mom chided.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “But you knew?” her disbelief coming back. “How long have you-?”

“Lord, as soon as Bucky set his eyes on you coming home. I mean of course I wasn’t there when you saw each other for the first time after all these years, but when we had dinner that night? He was practically fawning over you,” Sarah shrugged, going back to her meal.

“He was?”

“Plain as day, Mini. Though, I wouldn’t put it past you to not notice, considering he acted almost the same when you two were in highschool.”

“What?!” Y/N jumped again. Her food was long forgotten.

“Actually at that point, I think you both were blind to it. Bucky may not even known back then,” she tilted her head.

“Okay mom, you’re throwing a lot of things at me at once. I can’t keep up, can you elaborate some?” Y/N threw her hands up as if to stop her from moving forward anymore.

“Where to start?” Sarah put her silverware down and brought her elbows up on the table before interlocking her fingers and looking off as if watching the scenes replay in front of her.

“Freshman year, you were part of the crew that was in charge of the cancer carnival to raise all the money for that charity. You had come home and were going on and on and on about all the different ways you had come up to raise that money. Photobooths, dunk tanks, crazy games, snowcones, and all that fun stuff. Bucky and Steve had just come in from playing basketball in the driveway and were getting something to drink. Steve laughed as you went on and teased you about how you should be put in the dunk tank, and Bucky just had this look in his eye. Pure admiration for your excitement for that specific cause. That and you told your brother off showing even more how dedicated you were.”

“That was oddly specific…”

“Oh, I’m just getting started…” Sarah had a devilish amused look on her face. “But I guess I’ll just stick with one for each year.” She waved off. “Sophomore year, you were invited to prom from an upperclassman. Who was it?”

“Peter Quill. Ugh, I remember that. He ended up ditching me that night halfway through the prom.”

“Hmm mm, Steve had called saying they were leaving early to bring you home. You were upset and bored not knowing really anyone else there.”

“I honestly had only said yes because I wanted to go to the dance with another upperclassman and rub it in Brock’s face at the time. Bucky and Steve were seniors, so they were there too…” She thought back. Her chin in her hand as she listened to the stories.

“Well, Steve brought you home and Bucky was with him. I guess Bucky’s girlfriend at the time had the flu or something and couldn’t go, so they went with a group of guys.” Sarah got a little sidetracked, but quickly reeled in it. “Anyway, when the night was over, they had already planned on going to Bucky’s for the night. However, I came around the corner after they dropped you off and were about to head back out, and I saw Bucky was convincing Stevie to stay here that night.”

“What? That’s why they were here? I remember that actually... There was an after party at another seniors house.” Sarah raised an eyebrow knowing what happened after parties, but not knowing that was where her son had originally planned to go. “Sorry, but you know how high schoolers are. Don’t act shocked,” she chuckled. “I remember them going, but they came home pretty early.”

“Wonder why…” Sarah sighed to herself taking another bite of food before it got cold.

Not hearing her, Y/N went on.

“Bucky and I talked that night at like 1 in the morning to like 4. We ran into each other in the kitchen getting a late night snack, and it turned into a whole deep talk,” she thought back. “One of the few times we had a conversation like adults instead of pushing each other's buttons.”

“Yes, and you were so stunned and surprised by it, you gushed about it to me later,” Sarah nodded. “Little did you know, you had woken me up at the time and when I came to see what all the noise was in the kitchen, you and Bucky were laughing about something on the kitchen floor with your backs propped up on the cabinets. A stash of junk food sitting between you two as you talked.”

“But what does that have to do with-?”

“I came in when you were going on and on about a new history topic that you had dived into that month. You didn’t even notice him with wide eyes and absolute fondness for how smart and passionate you were on the subject. You were too busy talking to notice, I’m sure,” she laughed.

Y/N had to think back a little further for that memory, but it popped up. “Oh God, I was going on about the progression of execution styles in the Roman times,” she threw her head in her hands of embarrassment.

“Yeah, crazy thing to be looking at a girl like that in that kind of conversation. Talking about chopping people’s heads off wouldn’t be something I see a boy fawning over, and he looked at you like it was the most amazing story to be told. But then again, there he was. Completely blind himself.”

“Wow… I forgot about that moment. I remember the night, but some details are a little fuzzy. Not that one…” she whispered.

“And the way you talked about it the next day? You had the same look. Subtle and hidden, but deep down I could see the wonder in your eyes.”

Y/N smiled as she leaned forward like a child at story time. “What about Junior year?”

“Let’s see. By then Bucky and Steve had gone overseas. We didn’t see much of them…” Sarah was slightly saddened. She was proud of her son in those moments, but the fear and worry that comes with sending a child into war isn’t that fond of a feeling.

Y/N reached across grabbing her moms hand and giving her an encouraging soft smile. Clearing her throat she started again.

“In saying that, there may have been a moment in person, but they only came back for a month that whole year. I didn’t like that year,” she shook her head. “Who sent you all those letters though?” She asked looking back with that same knowing look.

“Steve… and Bucky. I wrote to them both, and I was surprised when Bucky asked me to write to him as well.”

“Didn’t expect that one, hmm?” Sarah smiled. “I don’t know what was written in them, for all I know he was just sending you jokes and teasing you from over the sea like your brother did here and there... But I have a feeling there were some personal things said too.”

“I actually kept all of those. They are in a box in my room. I have Steves in there too,” she smiled fondly as if she had completely forgotten them. Though she could never actually do that. She remembers very well all the excitement of running and checking the mail in hopes of another one being delivered. From both of them.

Her mom was right, there were a few teasing and goofy ones, but the longer he was over there, the more serious they got. There were some crazy terrifying stories and confessions to fear in those. He had mentioned he was only writing to his family and her, but she always wondered why he sent her things like that and not his family.

She had asked Becca once about a letter they had received, and they were sweet, but they disguised the sense of fear and longing to be home. He didn’t want his family to worry.

That’s when Y/N started taking their writing more seriously. She would practically let him vent and write out all his struggles and frustrations while over there, and Y/N would send back distractions of random history facts (which by the way, he asked for personally even if he jested her at home for them). Then she would tell him about her week, something else he asked for, and try to send words of wisdom and reassurance for his time.

He appreciated those and Y/N appreciated him trusting her with those thoughts. It’s not like he could send them to Steve when Steve was going through his own war over there with him.

How did she not pick up on the rise of finding respect for the other during then? The start of full-on admiration.

“Those letters stopped coming in the next year,” Y/N deflated in her spot. The next wave of memories contained her senior year. “Well, they came, but I never could get around to writing back with everything happening.”

“You’re graduate year… Steve came back home after we got the news. It took him a while to get approved, but they dismissed him from duty out of how much he had already served in his short time there. Brave man, your brother,” she says chuckling to cover the tears that were already forming in her eyes. Her daughter's eyes matched. She grabbed her hand again, this time giving it a loving squeeze. “That was a very hard year for all of us.”

“Steve came back, but Bucky had to stay. But he somehow got time off for a few weeks to come visit…”

“Remember his first visit?” Sarah said with a sad smile.

Thinking back to that time of grief and sadness, she really had to dig. She didn’t really dust off those memories often. It wasn’t really a time you would want to look back on.

“The hospital,” Y/N eventually said in a hushed airless whisper. “How did I forget that?”

“Those were moments one doesn’t really want to recall often,” Sarah said with a new tear falling. She had a smile on her face, but it was sad and soft. Nothing stemming from joy.

“We had just got the word,” she gasped faintly, trying to suck back the air that had left her body thinking of the horrible night. “After the surgery, one of too many, the doctors told us…” Taking a second, she hadn’t said this in a while as the family was hush hush when talking about the last days. “We only had a few months with him.”

________________________

5 years ago:

“He… He wha-?” Steve stammered out. “But he was in remission, not too long ago. He was fine!”

He was furious with the new information. He knew there was a chance of these specific results as his father had a new surgery every month for the cancer. Trying to locate it, trying to cut it out, trying to shrink it, trying to get rid of it with all their might. Every surgery you go in, you’re about to learn if it’s worse or better. And this? This was the worse they had gotten yet.

“I’m sorry, Steve. You know I don’t want to tell you this news, but cancer is a horrible horrible demon we have to face in this world unfortunately,” the doctor said. He had been with them the whole journey so the family had grown rather close with Bruce Banner. Someone their father actually worked alongside with. “Just when you’re doing better, it changes things up. I will say with all the past surgeries, we probably got you a few more months then expected. We believe a few months ago, without the treatment he's undergone so far, he would no longer be here with us today.”

“So we bought him a few months. What does that matter for, if it didn’t fix it all?” Steve shouted. The anger wasn’t toward the doctor. He knew that and they knew that. But he needed someone to blame for the shit he was being handed. He couldn’t just yell at the universe.

“Steven,” Sarah had said softly. Speaking for the first time since Steve had started his rant. “Calm down honey. Shouting and screaming isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“Nothing’s going to get us anywhere apparently,” he hissed. His hand coming up on his head as he looked up. After a second, he harshly ran his hand down his face and looked at his mom again. He could see her guard start to fall and Steve couldn’t handle having to be strong for them right now. He was too hurt. It was too painful. He was going to break and he couldn’t let them see him do that. “Ugh, I need air. I need to get some air. I-I can’t-.” With that, he walked in long strides to the elevator and the exit.

Sarah shook her head at the tears escaping without her consent. Turning to Y/N, she saw her youngest looking slightly downwards, frozen. Her nails were already being bitten from her nervous tick, and her eyes showing she was no longer on this earth mentally.

“Y/N,” Sarah said, taking a deep breath and standing taller. “Why don’t you go wait in the waiting room? Sit down, ok. I’m just going to talk to Dr. Banner real fast, hmm?”

No answer. She patted her shoulder making him jump slightly as if she had never consciously been there to start. She gave her a nod and Y/N nodded back and started mindlessly heading to the waiting room with her arms folded tight across her body for comfort. Any comfort…

“Y/N?”

She had been mindlessly looking at the ground in the chair she sat in. She couldn’t tell if it had been 5 minutes or an hour later from leaving the room with her mom.

“Y/N/N?”

That finally got her attention and she turned to see Bucky standing with his helmet in hand and jean jacket half-hazardly shifting off his shoulder from racing in from his bike.

“B-Buck?” she said softly sitting straighter.

Bucky sent her a sad smile as he walked to her, but he made it about 4 steps before she was running into his arms and clinging to him like he was air itself.

“They can’t help him, Buck,” she finally said after crying for a few minutes while he ran a hand down her back softly and let her get it all out. “They said they can’t do anything further,” she pulled back enough to look up. Her arms around his middle and his around her shoulders. “We have a few months…”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky sighed, finally getting the news he was waiting to hear, but this wasn’t what he was ready for. He could feel her heartbeat get faster, and at first, he just thought it was the hint to another crying session about to erupt.

In which case, bring it on. He wanted to help her like she had helped him with all those letters of support. But then he noticed her start to slightly hyperventilate. He knew what those two combos usually come out to and he wished he didn’t.

He brought her to a chair he was planning on sitting her in, but instead she plopped herself on the ground. Bucky instantly moved down there with her and looked her over.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart. You’re ok. I got you. Take a deep breath,” he said, bringing her to sit in his lap and hugged her as tight as he could. The feeling of pressure was a calming mechanism for anxiety attacks.

“I-I c-c-an’t,” she stuttered out with hiccups that were forming from her lungs needing air.

“Yes, you can. Focus, doll.” He started doing the breathing exercises himself as a way to guide her since their bodies were intertwined. She needs to sync to his breathing.

She stuttered a little, but her breathing was slowly calming down.

“That’s it… You’ve got it. In and out,” he coached, feeling with each sentence she relaxed more and more. “You’re ok. I got ya. You’re doing great Y/N.”

Eventually she was back to normal. Well, not really. An anxiety attack like that is the kind that leaves you winded afterwards. Completely draining you from energy.

He sat there and rocked her gently in their spot. Her back backed up to his chest and Bucky’s legs spread out with hers inside them as he kept his arms wrapped around her torso. The pressure helps, it really does.

He whispered reassuring words while he played with her hair and then she leaned back and was reaching peak calmness. She turned her head on his shoulder and he looked down at her with his crystal eyes. Their faces inches apart, but nothing other than sorrow in their body.

“They said to be glad we had that long with him as every minute counts. Make all the memories you can in that time...” She closed her eyes for a second taking another deep breath before looking back at him. “How can you make memories you would want to have not so sad knowing the exact day your father could die? What good memories come from that?”

Bucky physically felt her heart in her chest break as if they shared the same one. The emotion he was reading in her eyes this time was one of the few that Bucky could never pinpoint. It was fear, sadness, depression, and longing all rolled into a scared Y/E/C eye colored girl’s orbs.

“You’re allowed to be upset Y/N. You don’t have to fake happiness during this time. Your emotions are there to be felt... But at the end of the day, would you want to look back at more fake happy memories or true and real happiness?” Bucky said.

She wanted to make the next days her unhappy ones and leave it at that. He was right, she should and could feel sad and mad now. This situation called for it. But she didn’t want them to take up the majority of her last memories with her dad.

“Hey, you got Stevie and I,” he whispered in her ear as she turned forward again.

“Steve just yelled at our doctors for almost 15 minutes straight from deniel and then ran out the door like a sissy,” her voice monotone, but he could hear the upset nature behind her words. “Steve’s just as messed up as me.”

“One, you’re not messed up in the least. Two, you are human. Shitty things happen and we have to go through it in each our own way. Three, no grieving process is the same. You’re allowed to scream in your pillow cause you're mad. Or cry for hours on end because you can’t comprehend it. You’re allowed to go eat a whole pint of ice cream by yourself because you're sad. Hell, I’ll join ya,” he squeezed her hand that he had interlocked together on their right side. A light start of a chuckle came out and she squeezed it back.

“As long as you don’t insist on Rocky Road.”

“Really? I’m coming to your cry session and you’re banning me from my favorite ice cream? Some cry party,” he faked hurt.

She let out an actual laugh and turned back to him. “I may have a cry party or two…” He nodded, showing he was proud of her for feeling that was ok and agreed with it. Her eyes showed the actual sadness behind the temporary humor, it was still there swimming around. Her smile wasn’t masking anything. “I guess you can pick your flavor you want to binge on. I get to judge you though if it sucks,” she joked.

She was distracting herself and he was ok with that. He would keep in that direction as long as she needed. And right now, she didn’t want to think about the inevitable. Remember, more happy than sad at the end.

“What brand are we going for?” she asked. He wrapped his arms over her shoulders as she laid back on his chest in their sitting position. Her arms holding onto them in the front like the anchor that he was acting like.

“Um, is that even a question?” he gasped. “I have good taste, Miss. Rogers. What brand do you think I go for?”

“I’m going to say with that pretentiousness, that it’s Ben and Jerry’s,” she grinned, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing beats Ben and Jerry’s,” he nodded proud in his choice.

“Ok, but hear me out… Halo.” He looked at her like she was crazy. “It's like low calorie ones that are really good and kinda healthier than regular ice cream.”

“Darling, if I’m bingeing on some ice cream, you bet your ass I’m going to go all out. No low cal, shit. I want all the brownie batter.”

“Geez, you really are an ice cream snob,” she laughed more. “Guess you’ll have to try mine though because I promise you’ll join the dark side.”

“Dark side?” he asked.

“Yeah, cause you’re eating healthy while eating ice cream, one of the most sugared things to exist. Actually, get this, In the 1880’s they invented the sundae, and after that, the amount of sugar we started adding to our toppings every decade, just kept going up in sugar.” When she finished her little fact splurge, Bucky was looking down at like she was crazy, but still smiling.

“You’re strange, you know that? What normal person memorizes random facts like the year the ice cream sundae was invented? Or, what was it the other day?” he thought back.

“Oh, how the entire earth’s population can fit inside Los Angeles,” she remembered. “Then that led to talking about global warming, and then-…”She began listing off all the random things that followed after another.

Her mom had peaked out the curtain 5 minutes ago to check on Y/N, and found her wrapped up in his arms comforted and then eventually laughing. They needed a little joy that night. So she took in every laugh Y/n let out followed by Bucky laughing or joking. Every single one is what got her through that night…

________________

“That’s when you saw it?” Y/N asked awestruck. She did remember that. That was one of her core memories with Bucky. She always glimpsed back to it when she was sad. It was advice she took seriously. You choose how many bad days you have. Choose wisely.

“That’s when I knew it,” Sarah corrected.

“Knew it? I thought you were talking about how he looked at me differently. What do you mean, knew it?” she asked, confused.

“I had seen it all the time, but that’s when I knew he was head over heels for you. Seeing these things warmed my heart, but knowing it, gave me a whole new hope. As long as Bucky was there, you would be ok. He would make sure of that.”

“I thought that was so much longer ago…” Y/N said. “I guess I repressed it.”

“Bucky was your rock from day one, sweetheart. As soon as the world got dangerous for you, he became a huge protector over you. He checked in on you when he came over, he made you laugh, he knows how to push your buttons, but you love it. He’s a good kid Y/N.”

“I know. Which brings me to Steve being an ass and throwing a hissy fit about it.”

“Your brother is in shock right now. It was something he clearly did not see a mile away. Learning about it made him a little upset. I’ll talk to him.”

“Ma, I don’t need you to talk to him. You do that and he’ll be even more mad and think I tattle taled on him. Child,” she huffed.

“Fine, then you better tell him. Because like it or not, I’m going to have my family dinners on Sunday, and I want BOTH of my children there. Not just one every once and awhile. Plus, you’re moving out in just a few weeks so I need you to get this done cause I’ll miss you,” she smirked.

“Ok…” Y/N groaned basically being told to apologize and make amends to her big brother by her mom. She wouldn’t put it past her mom to ban Y/n from late night reading for punishment of not fixing it. She’d done it in highschool. She’ll do it again. “I’ll talk to him as soon as I can corner him. He’s been avoiding Bucky and I like the plague.”

“Well, then let’s set a trap.”

“Mom!”

“What? You need to fix it sooner rather than later and I want my kids to not hate each other. So, I’ll invite him over tomorrow for a makeup dinner and say you’re going out and won’t be here,” she started planning. “He won’t say no because I won’t let him. So he’ll come and you stay in your room until we’re settled, and then ta-da! He’s trapped.”

“Did you have this already typed up or something?” Y/N pulled back curiously shocked. Shaking her head out at her crazy organized mom. “Who’s to say he doesn’t stand up and walk out? I could about 99% see it going that way,” she nodded.

“Honey, I’ll be home. He’s not leaving. Not while I’m here at least,” she winked.

“You should become a serial killer as a side hobby. They would never catch you with how well planned out you are,” she teased her mom.

“I thought about it once, but didn’t go my way,” Sarah stood up walking to the sink, winking.

“Mom! You’re on a roll tonight,” Y/N laughed loudly, throwing a little pea at her.

“Hey, you make my kitchen floor a mess, and I may reconsider that side hobby,” she said pointing to the pea rolling away.

“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” Y/N chuckled.

(Tags for this series will be closing soon as it is getting pretty full, please send an ask if you want to be added:)

I’ll post on whatever chapter I decided to close it down here.

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anagentinwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Lifeline - Part 11

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: 2500+

Warnings: Heart attack, fluff, angst, language

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

It was a slow day at the call center, which was a good thing, and you couldn’t help but wonder what Steve was planning. Earlier, he texted you, asking if you wanted to get lunch together, and you accepted. It’s been a couple of weeks since you hung out and had a movie night, but since then, you’ve hung out a few other times at your house watching movies and talking. It was innocent fun, nothing serious, two friends enjoying each other’s company. But, you did fall asleep on him one night after a late shift, but luckily, he didn’t seem to mind. Neither of you labeled them as dates because neither of you were looking for a relationship. You both joked about them being dates though, but they never blossomed into anything, even though one night you hoped they would.

Your phone line ringing pulled you from your daydream. “911, what’s your emergency?”

“Um...my daddy can hardly breathe?”

“Okay, hold on for a second, sweetie.” The address popped right up since she was calling from a landline and you dispatched an ambulance to their location. It was much easier to send help when they called from landlines; cell phones were tricky because you needed to go through the carrier if you needed to get their exact location. “The ambulance is on their way.”

“Good...they need to get here real fast,” the little girl said in a calm voice.

“Okay, sweetie, what’s your name?

“Duranna Dey. My daddy’s name is Rhomann Dey.”

“Okay. How old are you, Duranna?

“I am five years old.”

“Okay, Duranna, I need to know if your father is still awake?”

“Yeah. He called 911-- then couldn’t really talk--he gave me the phone then.”

“Your dad is a smart man. Duranna, is your front door unlocked?”

“Uh…is our front door unlocked, Daddy? Uh, no.”

“Okay, Duranna, can you go and unlock the front door for me?”

“Sure…okay, I am going to go. Don’t worry, Daddy!” You heard shuffling over the line. “Front door unlocked.”

“That’s good, Duranna. Now can you go ask your dad if this has ever happened to him before?”

“Yeah,” she said as you heard shuffling through the phone. “Dad, has this ever happened before? He says no, and he is still awake.”

“Good. Can you ask him if he has any kind of chest pain?”

“Do you have chest pain? Yes, yes, he does.”

“Okay, hold on for a second, okay, Duranna.”

“Okay,” she replied.

You radioed the paramedics over your headset and told them the situation so they would know what they were walking into upon their arrival.

“I’m back, Duranna. Is he still awake?”

“Yeah, we’re in our jammies. Is that going to be okay, or should we get changed?”

“No, that will be fine,” you smiled at her question. “I need you to stay with your dad to make sure he stays awake.”

“Okay. I got it. Stay calm, Dad.” You could hear sirens coming over the line. “They are here now; should I hang up?”

“Yes, Duranna, you can hang up.”

“Okay, thank you, bye.”

The line went dead, and you couldn’t help but smile. Duranna was one strong, calm, brave little girl in her given situation, where some adults wouldn’t be. It was surprising, and you couldn’t help but praise her parents. You sighed, taking off your headset and setting it on the table as you went on your lunch break.

When you walked out of your building, you saw Steve standing outside holding onto a leash with a beautiful golden retriever attached to it. You smiled, walking right up to them and crouched down to pet him.

“Awww, you must be Cosmo,” you cooed, scrunching up his face in your hands, and quickly licked your cheek. “You’re so cute, yes you are.”

“He wanted to meet you. Wouldn’t shut up about it all morning,” Steve grinned under his baseball cap.

“Well, it is lovely to meet you, too,” You added, bopping him on the nose. You stood up, smiling at Steve. “What are we doing for lunch?”

“Since I brought Cosmo, I thought we could take a stroll through the park. I know there are a few food trucks in the area we could check out.”

“Sounds fun,” you smirked, walking next to Steve with Cosmo out in front. “How has Cosmo been adjusting?”

“He’s doing better. He’s a little off at certain times during the day, but the vet says it’s pretty normal, and it’s all a part of the process.”

“Well, he looks happy.” You let out a soft chuckle, watching Cosmo look around with his tongue hanging out. “And he is so cute.”

“Thanks for the compliment. You know dogs do take after their owners,” he winked, forcing you to roll your eyes.

“Okay, wise guy,” you scoffed, nudging him in his side. “How’s Station 107?”

Steve cleared his throat. “Your brother gave me permission to ask you out a while ago, and he keeps reminding me about it.”

You chuckled. “Did he? Clearly, he doesn’t know how much of a guy you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You come off all innocent, but let’s be real, you’re a real troublemaker.”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that information,” he chuckled, waving it off as you shake your head at him.

“It’s crazy how he gave you permission, yet you haven’t done anything about it?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes at him. “And here's Cosmo, who by the way I just met, and he has already gotten further with me than you have.”

“That hurts.” Steve feigned a pained look, holding his hand over his heart. “In my defense, I didn’t want you to feel pressured or pushed into something you weren’t ready for.”

“You never did, and that’s what makes you a good man, Steve,” you confessed, seeing his signature smirk spread across his face. “But, my life is enough of a mess as it is, and I wouldn’t expect you or anyone else to try and take that on.”

“That’s not it at all. I’m not worried about what happened in your past. I mean, I hate what you had to go through, but it’s never going to scare me off.”

You had no words. No comeback. All you could do was smile. You reached over and grabbed a hold of his hand. “Friends, hold hands, right?”

“Yeah, last time I checked,” he grinned, squeezing your hand. You felt your face heat up under his gaze as you looked away. You tried to weld your lips together, but it was no use. You had a feeling a smile would be plastered on your face all through lunch.

You and Steve settle on getting Mexican at Wade’s Chimichangas truck when you noticed the other truck was an ice cream truck. You stood in line and noticed the guy taking orders was very chatty and looked oddly similar to Ryan Reynolds.

“Next, oh, and what a cute couple you two are,” the Ryan Reynolds look-alike said. “I’m Wade, owner of Wade’s Chimichangas. Oh, and this sugar bear with the mustache behind me is Peter W. He saw my want ad in the paper, and he was an instant hire.” He smiled, but then it quickly turned into a frown. “This is actually the second time I hired him, the first time is when I hired him to be a part of X-force, and he died early on. Then, I time-traveled back in time after stealing this special watch from your universe's Thanos and brought Peter back to life at the end. Oops, spoiler alert,” he shrugged, staring at the empty space beside you.

“I’m sorry,” Steve asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to gauge the situation.

“Sorry,” he smiled. “This--” he twirled his finger in the air “--this is the wrong universe. Well, that universe technically doesn’t exist anymore since Mickey Mouse bought out Fox, and I’m not talking about the cute fox from Fox and the Hound either. No siree, this Fox was more expensive than my favorite shoe company’s net worth.” He shook his head back and forth, chuckling. “It’s going to be crazy fun! My place is safe and secure, but can’t say the same for that Australian Showman.” He nodded but stopped when a realization dawned on him. “Oh wait, dammit, he got out a few years too early. What a shame, he’s gonna miss out on some really big paychecks, but who cares about that guy anyway,” he signed. “Anyways, what can I get you two?”

“I’ll take the Almost Famous Chimichanga with rice,” Steve ordered.

“Oh, being safe and not going with beans, smart move, Captain,” Wade replied with a wink. “And for the lady and canine?” You gave Wade your order and ordered Cosmo a simple taco.

“Cosmo doesn’t need a taco,” Steve added, shaking his head.

“So, no taco for the canine? I am taking copious notes here.” You looked to Wade to see him licking his lips with a pen and small notebook pad in his hand.

“Yes, taco,” you answered, and Cosmo barked.

“Majority wins. Fire up the stove, Peter. It will be a couple of minutes, folks,” Wade announced. “If only there was a superpower to make food. I mean, he or she, I’m not sexist, could solve world hunger with just a flick of their wrist or magic wand.”

“Wow, that guy must be going through something,” Steve uttered loud enough for you to hear as you both moved down the side of the truck to the pickup area.

“Captain, you have no idea,” Wade looked over his shoulder and shot you both a tight smile. “Am I right, Peter?”

“He is,” Peter nodded, placing an order on the serving counter. “Order for the lovely couple and a taco for the gorgeous golden retriever.

“Thanks, Peter.” You pulled your wallet from your purse, but when you looked up, Steve was already handing Peter some cash.

“My treat,” he replied, answering your silent question.

“Next time, it’s on me.”

“Deal,” Steve smirked, getting his change back from Peter.

“Is he a Purebred?” Peter asked, looking down at Cosmo with a smile.

“I’m not sure I rescued him.”

“That’s incredible. My wife, Susan, and I thought about adopting, but she’s been training hard with her personal trainer, Gus, a few times a week, so we weren’t sure if we were ready for a dog. I mean, some of the workouts can last like four hours, but it is doing wonders for her, and it shows.”

“Well, when you both feel ready, give adoption a chance.”

“I will. I’m sorry to keep you from your date with all the questions.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Steve waved it off. “That’s how you keep customers coming back, right?”

“That’s right,” Peter chuckled. “Thanks for choosing Wade’s Chimichangas. Have a good afternoon, folks.”

You grabbed your’s and Cosmo’s baskets, and Steve grabbed his, making your way over to the open benches near the sidewalk. You plopped down with Steve taking the spot next to you, and Cosmo sat right in front of you, wagging his tail and waiting for his taco. You smirked at him, tearing off a piece and giving it to him.

“Are you getting the feeling that Susan is cheating on Peter, too?” Steve asked, taking a bite of his chimichanga.

“Yes, I thought I was the only one thinking that,” you answered, shaking your head. “Poor guy, he seems like a good one, too.”

A comfortable silence fell between you two as you ate. It was tasty, better than you expected it would be; you weren’t sure if it was the seasoning or sauce, but you would be a returning customer. Cosmo whined, staring into your eyes as you tore off another piece and gave it to him.

Steve smirked. “You’re gonna teach him to be a beggar.”

“Don’t listen to your dad. If you want to be a beggar, you be a beggar.” You patted him on the head, and he licked your hand.

“Wow,” Steve mouthed, making you hit him on the arm. He cracked a contagious smile, leaning into you, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you pushed him off you.

“You’re such as ass sometimes.”

“I am one of LA’s finest asses according to Sam,” he replied, forcing you to scoff.

_______

Taking the last bite of your lunch, you glanced at Steve, finishing off his chimichanga. He wiped his lips with his napkin and winked at you. You rolled your eyes, leaning forward and rubbing Cosmo on the head. You didn’t want to go back to work. All you wanted to do was hang out with Steve and Cosmo for the rest of the day. You sighed, looking down at your watch.

“Should we start heading back?” Steve inquired, placing a hand on your forearm. You looked at his hand, a shy smile appearing on your face.

“Uh yeah, we probably should.”

He stood up, offering his hand, which you took without hesitation. He squeezed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, sending a warm, comforting sensation flow through your body. You could feel your face grow warm as you stared at Cosmo walking in front of you. You bit your lip, peeking over at Steve, not missing the smirk you were beginning to love appear across his lips.

________

He pulled you to stop in front of your building, letting go of your hand, and you turned to face him. “Thanks for getting lunch with me and for bringing Cosmo. It was nice to meet him.” You smiled down at the dog, wagging his tail with his tongue hanging out.

“I think he enjoyed meeting you, too,” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, I don’t know if you’ve heard about this yet, but there is this first responders charity grill out slash softball tournament this weekend. I was wondering if...”

“Yeah,” you interrupted him. “Thor already invited me, and I was planning on going.”

“Cool.” He nodded, clenching his jaw. “But, I was curious if you wanted to be my date?”

You rubbed your lips together, a smile itching its way across your lips. “Did you finally have the nerve to ask me out?” You nudged him with your elbow repeatedly until he cracked a smile.

“Like I said, I didn’t want to pressure you into anything.” He sighed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“No, it’s not that. I’m just surprised you’re already planning a second date, and we aren’t even done with the first one yet.”

His jaw dropped open as quickly as he snapped it shut. If you weren’t watching him, you would have missed it. “I never said this was a date.”

“Yeah, but Cosmo told me it was, so who do you think I’m gonna believe. The guy I have been hanging out with or a dog willing to share all your secrets with me.” You shrugged with both hands in front of you, trying to weigh out your best option.

“Cosmo,” Steve looked down at his dog, shaking his head. “You can’t be telling YN all my secrets.”

“He’s a talker. Aren’t you Cosmo?” You cooed, making him bark in agreement. You smiled, reaching out to scratch his head one last time. You peeked up at Steve, not missing the gentle smile fading from his lips.

“How about it, YN? Do you want to go out on another date with me?”

“Yeah,” you grinned, nodding your head. “I’d like that.”

______

AN: Thanks for reading Part 11! We are over halfway through this story and there is so much more to come! And I am excited to share it with you all! The call about the daughter and father actually was something that happened and became national news a long time ago. I came across it while I was trying to find some 911 type calls/scenarios, and figured Rhomann and Duranna Dey would be a good fit for it. And she finally got to meet Cosmo! He is actually the dog from Guardians of the Galaxy! It is just a small cameo in that movie, but I love throwing in those easter eggs if you haven’t figured that out yet, haha! Did you like the Wade Wilson and Peter W cameo?! I thought it would be an entertaining addition and Wade breaking that fourth wall is always a fun time! The slow burn may finally be coming to an end. Let's just hope this charity softball tournament/grill-out date turns into a success! As always, thanks for reading, and don't forget comments are always welcome!

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch9: Lebanon, Lebagone

Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Summary: A few months post their reconciliation, Jake and Stella run a mission with the rest of the team…

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Word Count: 8k ish.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. We do not own any characters in this series bar Stella Stevenson and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: So the mission detailed here was highly inspired by the second book in the Grey Man series. Locations and a few major details are changed, and the names are completely made up. The Terrorist/Political party- The Lebanese Freedom Party, does not to our knowledge actually exist.

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 8

“Alright, let’s get in position before daylight hits.” Clay looked around as they walked down the narrow alleyway.

“Roger that.” Stella nodded as Cougar replied with a tip of his hat to show he had heard, Pooch also inclining his head.

The four of them stopped by a door to their right, Stella pulling the tool from her utility belt which was fastened around the waistband of her camo pants. She picked the lock in under thirty seconds, a simple job that required a little bit of jiggling, twisting and a good jerk with the torque wrench Cougar was holding to defeat.

“Not particularly high security considering this was a bank.” She mumbled as behind her Cougar chuckled.

Inside it was pitch black, dust rose in clouds, shimmering in the moonlight, which was streaking through the dirty arched windows. Both of them flipped out their flashlights, quickly scanning the room for any sign that someone had been here recently, but there was none.

They crossed quietly and quickly through the main atrium of the old building, taking care to keep to the shadows. The old bank was completely deserted bar a few desks and old telephones which sported thick layers of dust as they moved through, heading for the spiral staircase at the far side.

“We’re clear.” Pooch said as he looked up to the top of the staircase. “This place hasn’t been accessed for years.”

“Lima Six, anything to report?” Clay spoke into his radio and a moment later Jensen replied.

“Nothing on the comms, they’re talking about moving Kilo One out at the time we suspected but it could be a rouse to make sure…but Lima Two knows the code-word should they decide to go early.”

“Okay, as soon as you get movement let me know.”

“Ten-four, One.”

“Okay, let’s get set up.” Clay instructed and the team nodded in agreement as they all set about, placing various pieces of equipment around the place exactly where it needed to be for when their target and his security detail, in which Roque had embedded himself undercover, came storming into the pre-designated building, seeking refuge from an attack outside.

It took them roughly an hour to set up completely, things having to be precisely as Pooch directed. Eventually, when he was happy, they climbed the staircase at the back of the room. Four sets of eyes swept the square below. It was deserted, as was to be expected at such an early hour in the morning.

Stella scanned the buildings, nevertheless, her eyes sharp, looking for any sign of movement around the whitewashed and pebble-dashed sandstone that they had grown accustomed to seeing over the last three weeks or so they’d been in Nabatieh, Lebanon.

“So Khalil should be coming from there.” Pooch raised his arm and pointed to a small road to the right. “The plan is we lay down some fire by his bodyguards as he approaches the podium, and force them to take shelter in the bank, as led nicely by Roque.”

“Why do we want this guy alive so badly, anyway?” Stella mumbled to herself. “If he’s such a bastard, why don’t we just kill him? He’s a terrorist leader.”

“The Lebanese Freedom Party ain’t deemed terrorists all over the world.” Pooch grinned and Stella snorted. “Russia views them as a legitimate socio-political force.”

“Russia basically executes people for being gay” She scoffed. “Forgive me for not taking their viewpoint here as the one to set my moral compass against.” She sighed. “Cougs could take one shot, straight in the head. Boom. Job done.”

Cougar chuckled as he unloaded his rifle and stand, looking up at Clay. “She’s not wrong, Boss.”

“Whilst wiping that particular shit stain off the face of the earth might be appealing, they ain’t our orders. We apprehend alive.” Clay spoke, matter of factly and Stella rolled her eyes.

“Whatever helps us sleep at night, huh?”

****

Stella had to hand it to their Intel department. The start of the hit went like clockwork. At bang on the designated time, Jensen radioed in to say that they were moving out and sure enough, twenty minutes or so later he accounted the SUVs and jeeps had left the compound. He joined the rest of the team little over half an hour later, leaving the dirty van he had been driving hidden down a dark alleyway at the back of the bank, behind the one the rest of the team had arrived in and headed into the dank building, wrinkling his nose at the musty air as he walked in.

“Hey.” He greeted Stella, his hand falling to her shoulder as she sat in the back, her attention focussed through the window, a pair of binoculars raised to her eyes.

“Hey.” She whispered back, her gaze flicking to him quickly, flashing him a smile as she turned back to her spotting.

“So I picked up on their coms that they think Khalil’s personal security have done a sweep of the area.” Jensen looked at them. “Roques done his job nicely. They should be entering the square from the South West corner.”

“ETA?” Clay turned to him.

“Less than five minutes.”

“Excellent.” Clay nodded. “So far so good.”

The next five minutes or so passed in silence, all five of the Officers in the room observing the roads leading to the square just in case. Even though their intel was solid, it was drilled into them that they should never rely on it completely.

“Boss,” Cougar spoke suddenly, his shoulders squaring back, “target approaching. Roughly two miles out.”

“Fuck, I got something coming too from the North East.” Pooch groaned.

“What?” Clay demanded.

“I dunno but it looks suspiciously like an ARV.”

“An ARV?” Clay frowned.

“Yup. They’ve stopped. Six hundred yards out.”

“What do you mean they’ve stopped?” Jensen demanded, snatching the binoculars off him.

“What the fuck do you think I mean?” Pooch replied. “They’re not moving.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Stella growled and Clay took the binoculars off Jensen. She watched as Clay took a look before he sighed heavily and dropped his head.

“It’s the Lebanese Special Service. I recognise one of them from a mission a while back.”

“What the hell are they doing here?”

“I should have seen this coming.” Clay bit his lip. “They’re going to hit him at the rally. The false trail we leaked to them means they think we’re moving on him as he makes his way out of town and up to Beirut. They’re going to get in first.”

“It’s a double cross.” Stella looked at Jake and Pooch as she spoke, the pair of them exchanging a look before all eyes bar Cougar’s, which remained firmly fixed on his target, turned to Clay. “Why?”

“Death to the West and all that.” Clay sniffed. “They’re gonna take him out and try and use USA involvement as cover.”

“Don’t they realise that won’t work?” Stella shook her head. “We’re Black Ops, the thick fuckers. As soon as there’s so much of a sniff that shit is going west, the CIA will leave us high and dry, denying they had anything to do with it.”

“So what’s Plan B?” Pooch turned to look Clay. “I’m hoping you got a Plan B, because Plan A is going to shit.”

“Kilo one still approaching.” Cougar stated.

“You got anything special in your arsenal?” Clay turned to Pooch. “As in blow up an ARV special?”

Pooch blinked. “Yeah, the RPG but…”

“Go get it.” Clay instructed.

Pooch didn’t hesitate, he shot off down the stairs and Stella watched him go before she turned her attention back to the large square, which was roughly the size of two football pitches, busy with people bustling about their everyday business.

“If we get this wrong, the whole square is gonna be caught up in a fucking gun fight,” Stella spoke, her eyes falling on a group of kids in the middle.

There was a pause before Clay spoke again. “Khalil is our main objective; we just need to keep collateral to a minimum.”

Collateral. Stella hated that fucking word. She swallowed and looked at Jensen who gave her a small smile, which she returned before she glanced back at the square.

“One mile out.” Cougar informed.

“Okay,” Clay spoke, clapping his hands together. “Pooch, as soon as the LSS move, you shoot that RPG straight at the fuckers.”

“Gladly.” He nodded, “But, chances are if they’ve got an ARV out there then they’ll already have agents on the ground.”

“It doesn’t matter, all we gotta do is get a shot off first. Once that initial gun crack is heard, Khalil’s security outfit are gonna herd him in here anyway. And hopefully, when the LSS get note their vehicle has gone bang it’ll draw them into blowing cover somehow.” Clay nodded. “At least then we’ll be able to spot where they are.” He took a deep breath. “Cougar, keep watch on Khalil. As soon as you get a viable opportunity to lay down the fire, take it.”

Cougs, who hadn’t taken his eye away from the target sight of his gun simply tipped the brim of his hat again with his finger to show he had understood and Clay turned to the other three of them as they waited instructions.

“What about Roque?” Stella asked. “He doesn’t know about the LSS.”

“He’ll roll with the punches.” Clay rubbed his hand over his chin. “Everyone clear?”

“Clear as, boss, it’s a shoot-out.” Jensen snorted, nodding his head as he gave a chuckle. “Good times.”

“If this is your idea of a good time then I’d hate to see a bad one.” Pooch grumbled and Stella gave a chuckle.

“Hey, Poochy, I just like to see the positive in all aspects of life.” Jensen grinned, holding his hands out to the side, palms up. “You’re just grumpy because Jolene’s finally managed to…ouch!” Jensen gave a yelp as Stella punched him hard on the arm. “What was that for, babe?”

Stella shot him a look which instantly shut him up. Pooch had confided in her, Cougar and Jensen no less than two days ago that Jolene was four months pregnant, but he didn’t want to tell Clay or Roque for reasons that he was keeping to himself, as per his prerogative, she supposed. It had made her and Jensen snort a little, as when Aubrey had found out she was pregnant roughly five months or so ago, the entire world had known pretty much before the pee was dry on the test stick. Jensen’s eyes widened as he realised exactly what he’d been about to say and he grimaced, before turning to Pooch, giving him an apologetic look.

“Kilo One is approaching the square.” Cougar spoke, and they all turned their attention to him, stepping forward to the window, Clay observing their surroundings with the binoculars.

“Okay, focus up Losers.” Clay hushed them all, gesturing to Pooch. “Get ready with that RPG”

Pooch shot Jensen one final filthy glare before he stepped forward, resting the grenade launcher on his shoulder.

“Arty, Jensen, in position.” Clay instructed. “Coms on, code names only.”

They both nodded, Stel picking up a device that had been in Pooch’s big bag of tricks, and made their way back to the spiral staircase.

And then, it all happened at once. Clay gave the order to fire and both Pooch and Cougar took their shots at the same time. The popping of guns, sounds of screaming and yelling and a rather large explosion followed by Pooch’s loud chuckles of glee hit their ears and Jensen looked at Stella as they waited at the top of the stairs.

“I really shouldn’t enjoy this as much as I should.” He grinned, and Stella snorted as suddenly the room below them was full of voices, once of which the recognised instantly as Roque. From their extensive planning, Sella knew that they would likely hustle into the room in a tight cordon, with Khalil in the middle and head to the most secure part of the building, the vault. They had no idea how many of the guard had made it into the building with Khalid, but essentially it didn’t matter. The Losers were one step ahead.

As soon as the group made their way towards the main part of the atrium, through the open double doors which led through the cashier area, Jensen grinned at Stella.

“Hit it, babe!”

Stella smirked as she pushed the button on the device she held in her hand. The large electromagnets that had been placed on the locks snapped into place, firing the four inch thick steel bolts into their slots, securing them tightly, ensuring no one could get out, and no one else could get in. Yells of warnings rang out about the place as the guards instantly wheeled round, their guns raised and Roque’s eyes flickered upwards to where they were hidden on the veranda above. Jensen raised his right hand, his index and middle finger extended and he waved them across his face, indicating that their next move was about to go down. Roque made no sign he’d seen them, bar a quick double-blink.

“I’m sorry, pal.” Jensen grimaced a little as he ducked down and lifted a heavy square box off the floor, flipping the plastic cover up, jamming his thumb onto the red button. “Lima Two is about to deploy, please return to your seats and cover your ears.” He spoke into his coms, giving the rest of the team a warning. As soon as the device beeped to say it was charged, Jensen launched it over the side of the railing where it fell onto the floor below. As soon as it left his hands, he and Stella ducked down, their fingers jammed in their ears, eyes scrunched shut as the device activated.

Referred to merely by Pooch as the S-Fud- ‘Sensory Fuck-Up Device’, the item had been developed by the boffins in the CIA lab to create complete optical and aural disorientation by using ultra violet and bright white lights and a loud, high pitched sound and sonic wave. Even with his eyes screwed shut, the flash of light still bounced off all the surfaces surrounding Jensen, and the hands which were clamped over his ears might have dimmed the majority of the loud wailing siren, which lasted no more than two seconds, but the combination was still enough to leave him feeling slightly woozy as he stood to his feet, blinking furiously, his eyes feeling like he’d stared straight at the sun, his eardrums ringing as if he’d spent hours in a nightclub with music thumping in his ears. Besides him, Stella staggered to her feet and shook her head, pressing the heel of her palm to the space between her eyes. But they had no time to waste. Jake gently shook her shoulder and she nodded to show him she was okay. Together they made their way down the stairs as quickly as they could.

The S-Fud had done its job, all the men were incapacitated to some extent. As Stella’s eyes glanced around she quickly counted six men in total. Three, one of whom was Khalil, were completely unconscious, face down on the floor. Two more, including Roque, were writhing in pain, hand clutched over their ears, and one was attempting to stagger to his feet. In a flash, Stella had nailed him with a kick to the face, and he fell backwards with a thud, his nose shattering as her heel smashed straight into the bridge.

“Did you see that?” Jensen turned to the other three men who had joined them, all looking around the room. “My girl, she’s a bad ass chick.”

“Can you concentrate on the mission in hand for once and not your dick?” Pooch shook his head as Cougar hit the moving guard with the butt of his rifle, knocking him out.

“Your momma concentrated on my dick last night.” Jensen shot back and Pooch groaned.

“Seriously? Momma jokes, now?”

“Shut up.” Stella nudged Jake harshly with her elbow as she walked past, following Clay as they stepped over the unconscious guards, heading towards Roque as he groaned and lay curled up in the foetal position. Clay knelt down and reached out, loosening his tie and the top button of his dress shirt before patting him on the shoulder, as Stella did the same to their target.

“Okay, lets move.” Clay looked up. “Jensen, Pooch, you take Roque. I’ll get Khalil. Cougs, Arty, give us cover to the vehicle.”

The team all nodded, Jensen and Pooch stepping forward, each seizing Roque under his arms. They managed to get him to his feet, each supporting him, their arms round his back as his arms slumped over their shoulders. His feet staggered on the floor as he made an attempt to talk.

“We got you, buddy.” Jensen said softly. “You’ll be alright, just feel like you’ve got one hell of a hangover for a few hours.”

Meanwhile Clay had managed to hoist Khalil to his feet with Cougar’s help, the man a complete dead weight, which he allowed to slump against his right shoulder. With an almighty heave he ducked and then stood, using his legs to rise up fully, Khalil slung over him in a fireman’s lift, his arms dangling freely down Clay’s back.

Without another word, the team moved as quickly as they could to the dead-bolted doors where Stella reached into her pocket with one hand, whipping her pistol out with the other. She clicked the device, which unlocked the glass doors and they made their way across the atrium, the chaotic noises from outside growing louder as they approached the back door to the bank they’d used to enter. Stella flattened herself against one side of the wall to the right of the door as Cougar took aim with his rifle. He looked at her and nodded, and in a flash she reached out and yanked it open, Cougar darting through, rifle held in front of him.

“Clear.” He spoke and Stella moved to allow the rest of the team to step out into the alleyway, taking up the rear.

She spotted the man hiding in a doorway two down before Cougs even had chance to shout a warning. In a flash she fired pistol twice. The first shot hit the guy in the arm, causing him to drop his gun, the second in the knee and he fell to the floor, screaming in agony. Then came another, and another. As Stella and Cougar continued, Jensen, Pooch and Clay heaved their charges to the side of the van, ducking as shots rained down on them. Pooch wrenched open the door, and Jensen hopped into the back, hoisting Roque in as gently as he could, a sharp contrast to the way Clay simply slung Khalil unceremoniously into the back. As Pooch ran to the front and hopped into the driver side, Stella and Cougar both sprinted towards the van, flinging themselves in as the engine started. With a sharp tug, Clay pulled he door shut as Pooch started the engine.

Seconds later, the van roared back off up the alley, the crackle of gunfire from the square growing quieter and quieter as they put more distance between them and the danger. Pooch drove them out onto the main road, towards the point, some six miles or so away, where they would ditch the van and hop into two separate SUVs and make their way to the agreed Ex-fil point at Saida Port roughly a half an hour or so drive away.

Stella closed her eyes, resting her head against the cool metal of the van, watching as Pooch and Jensen hoisted Khalil into a sitting position, securing his wrists with flexi-restraints behind his back. Cougar was busy offering Roque some water, Stella pleased to see their teammate was finally starting to come round. She smiled as Jensen flopped down next to her, his arm looping round her shoulders as he pulled her to him for a soft kiss.

“I love working with you,” he grinned and she snorted, shaking her head as she chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re a regular nine-to-five couple, aint we?”

****

“Stel?” Jake called through the door of the bathroom of their temporary lodgings before he opened it and to be greeted by Stella led back in the bath, eyes closed. She turned her head to look at him. “I was gonna ask if you wanted head out with the guys for a beer and food but you look pretty comfortable.”

She pulled a face. “I’m feeling anti-social.” Jake laughed at her frank answer and smiled as she gave a small shrug. “Sorry, not sorry, but we spent four weeks in a hell hole motel and I’m extremely grateful Clay’s managed to get us holed up in a nice place and not the Officers’ Quarters on base so I intend to make the most of it.”

“Babes, we were both in the army.” He snorted. “Rocks for pillows and all that.”

“Yeah, well it’s been a while since I did that. What can I say? I’ve grown used to the finer things again.”

“Fair enough, I’ll let Clay know you hate them all and don’t want to socialise.” He teased.

“Jakey, we’re gonna be here for by my guess a week at least, plenty of time to go out sampling the finest bars the UK has to offer.” She shrugged, not bothered in the slightest by his teasing. “If you wanna go meet them, feel free. I’ll grab a take out. There were some leaflets pinned to the board in the kitchen.”

“Or…” Jake smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, “I stay here, because frankly, that bed looks really comfy and I kinda wanna test it. See how grossed out we can make Pooch.”

“Jerk.” Stella snorted.

“Well, he’s done nothing but complain since we got here about how he has to share this house with us and can’t go in with the others, so I wanna give him something to really complain about.”

“You’re such a little shit.” She laughed and Jake groaned.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Laugh?”

“Yeah, it’s making your boobs wobble under the water, and that’s making me horny.”

“You’re always horny.”

“Hornier than usual.”

“Well, I can solve that problem.” She grinned and Jake smirked.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, turn around and shut the door on your way out.”

“Ouch, Stells.” Jake slapped his hand over his heart. “That’s cold.”

“Hmmm,” She muttered, laying her head back and closing her eyes again. “If you’re getting in here you better hurry, or the water will be cold too.”

Jake grinned and in a flash, reached back to grab a fist full of his t-shirt behind the collar and pulled it over his head. As his hands flew to the button on his jeans Stella nodded to the door.

“You better lock that, I know you said you wanted to gross Pooch out but if he walks in on us he’ll be scared for life.”

“And?”

Stella merely arched her brow, “No locky, no fucky.”

With that Jake spun on his heel and flicked the lock, before he turned round and shoved his pants and boxers down in one full swoop and swung his leg over the side of the tub. Stella moved forward so he could settle behind her, his legs laying either side of hers. It was a tight squeeze, the tub in the two bedroomed terraced house wasn’t built to accommodate two but neither paid it any mind.

Stella took a deep breath, closed her eyes and leaned back, her head laying against Jake’s chest as his hands softly rubbed up and down her forearms, his lips pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

They were silent for a while, the pair of them simply contented to stay there for a moment, relishing the peace after a long and tedious mission and the chance to relax for an evening before the debriefs and analysis started the next day in the War Rooms of the RAF Base in Suffolk, England. Often, the aftermath of a mission was more hard-going than the action itself. They’d hash over the events, listen to the CIA operative justify some of the more morally ambiguous decisions made, no doubt the ramifications and political fall-outs, be informed about how the CIA were going to play it and then they’d have to submit written reports, which would be Classified at the highest levels and stored in the top secret vaults in Virginia.

It was part and parcel of being in a black-ops team. They knew the script, having read and played it many a times before. But it was draining and exhausting, one of the many reasons Stella was glad that the actual missions they ran, whilst they could last months at a time, were on the large few and far between.

“You okay?” Jake broke the silence and pressed his lips once more to the back of her shoulder and Stella nodded, tilting her head round so she could look at him.

“I spoke to Rey before.”

“Yeah, how is she?”

“She said she felt the baby move for the first time.” Stella beamed.

“Oh, that’s awesome.” Jake grinned back, “are they gonna find out what they’re having?”

Stella snorted, “dur. You know what she’s like. She’ll want to decorate and buy it blue or pink clothes, plus if it’s a boy she’s got time to mentally prepare seeing as all she wants is a little girl to treat like a doll.”

Jake laughed. “Is it wrong I kinda hope it is a boy?”

Stella grinned. “Nope, I was thinking the same. She’s asked me to be with her when it’s born.”

“I’m not surprised.” Jake wrinkled his nose. “Dick’s gonna be about as much use as a knife in a gun fight.”

“Knives can be very useful in a gun fight, if you know how to use them.”

“Oooh I love it when you talk dirty, babe.” Jensen smirked and dropped his head to kiss her softly. His right hand moved from its spot on her arm to stroking her hip, tracing a path down the outside of her thigh. His fingers softly traced shapes on her warm, wet skin just to the side of her knee before he moved his touch up her leg again then across to her abdomen. Stella sighed against his mouth, as her head lolled to the right. Jensen’s mouth moved, trailing a line down her neck, nipping at the hinge of her jaw.

He was growing hard against her, Stella could feel it, and the way his fingers were ghosting over her made her skin tingle and her body shiver. "Jake," she whimpered. "Yeah, baby?" His fingers found the tuft of curls and then her nub. "You gonna sing for me, Stells?" He encircled her clit with his fingertip and drew back up. "Let me play that pussy?" “Fuck...” she groaned, leaning further back into him, her body sagging into his. She loved his dirty talk, being so in control for most of the time, she enjoyed letting herself go when it came to this. “Feels good, Jakey.” "Yeah? You like it when I touch you, feel my fingers inside? Stretching you for my dick?" He dipped two fingers inside, his thumb able to press into her sensitive clit. "Jesus, fuck," Stella gasped as he moved into her. The thickness of his fingers felt like she was on fire and had her silently begging his foreplay wasn't long. "So fucking wet already, babe." Jake was enjoying the feel of her on his fingers. It'd been a long while since he'd felt all of her and he hid his desperation well behind dirty words and filthy ministrations. His mouth moved down her neck, teeth gently nipping at her skin as he went, lips curling into a smirk as he listened to her softly groaning. Her hips moving in time with his hand as his fingers curled inside her. Water began to just teeter over the tubs edge but neither paid any mind. Stella's breathy pants bounced off of Jake's cheek as he watched himself finger fuck her. "I love it when you fuck my fingers, baby." "Oh God," Stella squeaked, for she was going to hit that edge and fall right over. The time between, the angst of their mission and Jake's mouth were nearing too much. "Jakey, please," she moaned. "Cum on my fingers, Stells, then I'm gonna fuck you, really...really... good." With each 'really' Jake barely rutted against Stella, just enough to tease her at what he wanted to do to her. He wanted to slide in, slow and deep, her body seated on top his, while he feasted on her nipples and neck. He wanted to be buried into her to the hilt and paint her walls with his seed. Stella came undone as her body quaked against his chest. With a breathy squeak she went rigid and her hand flew from the side of the tub, wrapping around is wrist as she came, her walls clamping around his fingers "Fuck, Stella, turn around baby, sit on my lap." She was as languid as the water around them, her body drowning in ecstasy as Jake helped her turn in the small space. His fully erect and throbbing cock stood at attention, his head just above the water’s surface. He guided Stella just where he wanted her and slowly dipped inside her still trembling walls. The sensation was more than Stella had bargained for and she moaned out loudly as she sank into him. "That's it baby, let them hear you" Jake bucked a bit into her, closing the gap that Stella was slowly shortening, his cock fully inside her and he moaned himself. She felt so good, so tight. Like there was no one else made for him but her. The thought gave him a flutter deep in his belly. She was his, and would be forever, if she'd have him. Stella rolled her hips against his, grinding down the pressure on her sensitive clit while Jake's lips moved over her skin, nearing her pert nipples. His hands wove around her back, fingers pressing into her spine as he bobbed his hips up and down to meet with her rolls. It was a dirty grind, water sloshing out of the tub like waves licking the shore. When Jake found a nipple and rolled it between his lips, his tongue tasting her flesh and his teeth nipping at it, Stella tugged at the little bits of longer hair atop Jake's head as she squeaked out a pleasurable sound. One of Jake's large hands palmed down her back and over the curve of her ass, squeezing her cheek as she rocked all whilst he played with her breasts. The same hand soon found its way between their bodies and pressed hard into her clit before smoothing upward over her tummy and grasping her left breast, kneading it gently. The more he gave, the more she took and before long she was grinding down against him, her breathing ragged as he thrust up, hard, his hands dropping to her hips. “Come on baby,” he groaned as her head fell back, his lips nipping against her collar bone, “fuck, I love you.” “Love you.” She groaned as he thrust up, her hands curling over his shoulders, nails biting his skin. “Shit, Jakey, I’m gonna...” “Cum baby, come on.” His jaw clenched as her body trembled and her eyes fluttered closed, as she let out a broken, whispered groan. As she clenched around him, Jake gave a soft growl of his own, his hips moving slightly faster as he rutted up, pulling her down onto him. The coil in his abdomen that had been tightening and tightening snapped and his entire body surrendered, a surge of warmth spreading from his belly outwards and he stilled, his cock twitching as he came. A few sloppy thrusts later and he stilled with a satisfied him, his hands moving to smooth Stella’s damp hair back off her face as hers cupped his cheeks. She simply looked at him for a moment and he gave her a grin causing her to chuckle as she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. “Jesus Christ, that was amazing.” Jensen mumbled and Stella grinned, her lips meeting his once more. They stayed still for a moment, soft kisses being shared until Stella shivered a little and Jake helped her move off him so he could get out of the tub and leave her to finish off. He grabbed a towel and his glasses from the basin unit before he dried off, gathered his discarded clothes and headed onto the small landing of the accommodation. Pooch, who was just emerging from the other bedroom shot him a look. “You better clean that damned bathroom before I use it.” He arched his eyebrow and Jensen grinned. “You’re like the best disgusting person I know.” Pooch continued with a snort before he nodded his head to the stairs. “Take it you’re two ain’t coming?” “Already came, Poochy.” Jensen grinned as he walked to their bedroom, laughing as the sounds of Pooch’s groans of disgust hit his ears.

****

Stella woke the next morning to a burning deep in her core and Jake’s face between her legs. Her orgasm roused her much better than any alarm or cup of coffee ever could and as Jake stuffed himself insider her, his mouth nipping softly at her neck, she smiled softly to herself as she realised he’d done this very thing the first morning they’d moved up to college together.

After pulling on her Army Uniform cargo pants, Stella tucked her khaki green tee into the waist and adjusted the belt before she sat down and laced up her heavy boots as Jake fiddled with the collar of his, complaining that it felt tight. When Stella pointed out he was slightly more built than he had been last time he wore it a good few months ago, he grinned and flexed his arms to give her the ‘gun show’ making her snort and shake her head.

They headed out of the house and walked the half a mile to the main gate of the base, flashing their ID and making their way to the Mess for breakfast where they met with the rest of the team, Pooch giving them another filthy look as their antics had continued beyond the bathroom and much later into the night. Once they’d finished eating, they each grabbed a coffee to go and headed down to the War Rooms - a network of conference rooms and IT facilities nestled in a bunker along the runway of the RAF Base - and settled down in the leather seats around the large, polished mahogany table ready for whoever it was from the CIA that would be arriving to give the debrief.

They’d been there for roughly half an hour or so and Jensen was already bored. He was messing around, twirling his pen in-between his fingers, the other tapping against the disposable coffee cup. After a pause, he took his pen and began to draw a face on the white plastic lid.

“What are you doing?” Stella looked at him, having caught his fiddling in the corner of her eye.

“I’m bored, Stelly,” his voice was a childish whine, “where is this guy anyway? We’ve been waiting here for like thirty minutes!”

“Just take the fucking pen off him, Arty.” Roque groaned. Stella reached over for it and snatched it away”

“Hey, that’s mine!”

“Jensen, shut up!” Roque shot back and Jensen turned to him.

“Why? It’s not like anyone is talking anyway.”

“You, you’re talking. As usual. Put a sock in it.” Roque turned to Stell as Clay stood up and walked to the door to see if anyone was coming. “How the fuck do you put up with this?”

“He has his mouth busy most of the time.” Stella quipped as she leaned back in the chair and Jensen gave her a dopey grin.

Both Roque and Pooch let out noises of disgust, Cougar’s chuckle just audible from the other side of the table where he lounged with his feet on the table and his hat pulled down over his eyes.

“Yeah, laugh all you want but next time it’s you sharing the digs with them.” Pooch looked at him. “I’m done.”

“Chill out.” Cougar replied and Pooch blinked.

“Did you just tell me to chill?”

Cougar smirked in response, tipping his hat up slightly to flash Pooch a wink.

“The Pooch is perfectly chilled.”

“The Pooch refers to himself in the third person,” Jensen shook his head, “that’s so not chill.”

“Oh…this just got even better.” Clay’s remark had them all turning towards him, the teasing banter dying off as Roque sat up.

“What?”

Clay simply walked into the room, rolling his eyes. Less than five seconds later, in walked a very familiar face.

“Oh great.” Jake mumbled as Stella blinked, coming face to face with her ex for the first time since he’d stormed out of her apartment all those months ago.

“Good Morning.” Evan greeted them all before he nodded to Stella, a little awkwardly. “Hey.”

“Evan, hi... what are you... what are you doing here?” She asked and Evan took a deep breath.

“It was my intel you guys were running down so I’m here for debrief.”

“That was your intel?” Pooch spoke and Evan nodded.

“Yeah, we’ve been tracking Khalil for a while and reached out to him a while ago to offer him a deal. He declined so we needed to bring him in.” Evan nodded. “His activities were giving us cause for concern, not to mention with the Russians behind him. We needed to make the grab before he got even more power behind his cause.”

Jake sensed Stella tensing slightly besides him and slid his hand over her thigh. Her fingers gently locked over his as she kept her gaze on Evan, who had spotted the subtle movement of Jake’s hand. He didn’t say anything, instead the man’s eyes flicked to Jake’s who simply stared back before Roque chipped in.

“So, we got the guy. Did he give you what you needed?”

“I can’t tell you that.” Evan replied, apologetically. “It’s classified, need to know basis.”

“In that case I don’t wanna know.” Pooch mumbled.

Stella’s mind was whirling. Truth be told, she’d started to think about exactly why they’d been dispatched to capture this particular guy alive, when his type were ten-a-penny all over the place. There was a lot more to it than the fact this guy’s ideologies didn’t fit with those of the Western World. And then, the final little piece dropped into place in her analytical brain and she turned her head to see Clay watching her.

“Did you know?” She asked.

Clay shook his head. “Suspected but…”

“Suspected what?” Jensen looked at Clay then Stella. “Babe?”

She took a deep breath. “There’s a reason why we were on a capture not kill mission. At first I assumed it was to do with not making him a martyr but then throwing him in prison would cause just as much unrest. But that unrest will die down when he’s released in a few months in exchange for his cooperation for details on his Russian backers and arms suppliers.”

The rest of the team looked at her, then to Evan who blinked, his face remaining stoic as Stella shook her head and continued.

“He then lets his supporters know that he and his friends in Russia had a disagreement and he was traded away. He retires to some island somewhere, under the careful watch of the UN and fades away into non-existence.”

There was silence and Evan took a deep breath, “it’s not quite as simple as that, Stel…Stevenson, but yeah, that’s pretty much the basics.”

“God, this is so fucking bent.” Stella shook her head. “It’s no wonder the entire world hates us.”

“You know, considering you technically work for the CIA and the Armed Forces, you kinda signed up for this.” Clay raised his eyebrow as Stella rolled her eyes.

“We tried to negotiate terms with him. He turned them down.” Evan replied, matter-of-factly. “So we sent you in to enforce them. The rest, as I stated a minute or so ago, you really don’t need to know.”

“Yeah, classified, we heard.” Clay replied, leaning back in his chair.

“Did you suspect the Lebanese Special Service would try a double cross?” Roque looked at Evan and the man shot him an apologetic look.

“It was always possible, yeah. But you know how it goes…”

Roque scoffed and Cougar shifted in his seat, Evan’s eyes flicking to him before he took a deep breath and shrugged.

“If it helps, think of the bigger picture. We remove their leader, cut off the Russian support, and suddenly the LFP is nothing more than an overhyped street gang...”

“Yeah, that doesn’t really help.” Jensen wrinkled his nose and Evan shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Well, that’s your opinion. Not ours.” He cleared his throat, “anyway, it’s done. The mission is over. For now, you guys need to lay low. We’ve cleared it with the RAF for you to stay in the area for a while until all the fuss about Khalil going missing has died down. We’ll be monitoring all the usual lines and channels of communication, making sure no one has your descriptions and doing what we can to keep your faces out of the public eye.” Evan paused. “But, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what happens if we can’t.”

At that The Losers simply looked at one another. Evan was right, they didn’t need reminding. That was the whole point of the CIA running the number of Black-Ops teams it did. It gave them a way to do the slightly grey area dirty jobs and remain at arm’s length, denying all responsibility if required.

“Any idea on how long that’s gonna be?” Pooch asked.

“Probably be a week, maybe two. But once we’re confident we’re clear, we’ll send word and get you back to the US.” Evan replied.

“So what you’re saying is we got two weeks off?” Cougar spoke and Evan looked at him, giving a shrug.

Pooch grinned and fist bumped Cougar.

“Are you staying here too?” Jensen looked at Evan and he shook his head.

“Don’t worry, I’m flying back to Virginia tonight”

“I’m not really worried…” Jake shrugged. There was a moment where both men simply stared at each other until Clay coughed.

“Right, is there anything else?”

“Mission reports due as usual, next forty eight hours.” Evan turned his head away from Jensen and looked around the team. “I’ve arranged access into the Red Network from the hub on the base. Your liaison officer, Wing Commander Levinson, says he can set you guys up with time on the range or the phys- ops courses too, have you join their drills if you want. Might be an idea to keep yourselves sharp.”

Cougar, Pooch and Jake all groaned at the suggestion of the physical training whilst Roque and Stella looked at one another, nodding.

“Yeah, I can go for that.” Roque agreed.

“And that’s it, other than on behalf of the CIA I wanted to thank you, it was a slick operation. We’re really pleased with how this one turned out.”

The team exchanged looks and soft smiles, before Clay stood up.

“Okay, Losers. Let’s grab some more coffee and then we can regroup. Figure out what we do for the next two weeks.

Movement filled the room as they all stood to leave, and just as Stella had picked up her empty coffee cup, Evan cleared his throat.

“Stella, can I have a word?”

She hesitated and Jake turned to look at her. He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. “Jakey, it’s fine. Go, I’ll catch you up.”

He blinked, before he turned to Evan, the glare he gave him positively filthy before he turned and left the room. Evan and Stella stood still watching him go, before Stella turned to Evan, the man giving her a soft smile.

“You look well. Being happy suits you.” His tone carried no anger, and Stella found herself returning his smile before she sighed and shook her head.

“Listen Evan, I...”

“It’s okay Stella,” he spoke, holding his hand up, “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to apologize. I was an asshole when you broke up with me.” Stella took a deep breath as he continued. “The way I acted and the things I said were horrible. My mother would be ashamed and I just ...” he shrugged. “I wanted to let you know I was sorry, that’s all.”

Slightly surprised at his outwardly contrite tone, Stella simply shook her head. “It’s okay. You were hurt. I hurt you.”

“Yeah you did but that doesn’t excuse the way I reacted. So, like I said, I’m sorry.” He smiled, gesturing with his hand to the door. “And I’m glad that you and Jake are, you know, making it work.”

As he spoke the final like, that tell-tale nerve in his jaw twitched a little and Stella knew that he wasn’t happy, at all. But, given that the rest of his apology had been genuine, she accepted the gesture for what it was.

“Thank you.” She gave a soft smile. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I did like you Ev, it just…”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” He shrugged. “Yeah, I get that now. And hey, no hard feelings. If we hadn’t broken up I’d never have met Talia so…”

“Oh, you’re seeing someone?”

“Yeah.” Evan nodded. “It’s early days, we’ve had a few dates and been away for a weekend. She’s nice, I like her.”

“Good, well I hope it works out.” Stella smiled. There was a pause before she took a breath. “I better…” she jerked her hand towards the door and Evan nodded.

“Of course…”

“I’ll, erm, see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah, take care, Stella.”

“You too, Evan.”

With a final smile at one another, Stella left the room and headed back up the corridor. Jake was waiting outside for her, leaning against the wall of the building.

“All okay?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yeah.”

“What did he want?”

“To apologise for the way he acted when we broke up.” Stella shrugged. “That was it, oh, and he’s seeing someone else. Which is nice. I hope it works for him. He’s a good guy.”

Jensen made a non-committal noise in his throat and Stella looked at him. “Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t need to.” Stella rolled her eyes. “Stop.”

“Okay, okay, sorry. I just, well, I don’t know what it is but I still don’t trust him, never have. He’s shady.”

“He’s an intel officer for the CIA.” Stella scoffed, taking Jake’s hand. “We’re a Black-Ops team. Far more shady than he is.”

“Suppose.” Jensen sniffed, as the two of them walked down the side of the building. As they went, Jensen suddenly had a sense of unease. Almost as if they were being watched. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder, but found no one. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, telling himself he was being ridiculous. They were on a secure Military Base, probably the safest place they could be given the circumstances.

“You okay?” Stella asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” he assured her, “so, the rest of The Losers are in the coffee shop. Pooch is already on his phone checking out local bars, fancy hitting a few tonight?”

“Why not?” Stell grinned up at him, leaning up to place a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. Jake smiled, and pulled her closer as they headed off to join up with the rest of the team, casting a final glance over his shoulder, once more seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

**** Chapter 10

#too loose and you'll lose it #jake jensen #jake jensen x ofc #jake jensen x original female character #the losers #the losers fan fiction #jake jensen fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans characters

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tiredb0igivemesugars · 4 years ago

Text

Secrets in the tower

Summary: y/n’s secret is threatening to come out and he’s just simply not ready for that, he doesn’t want this dad, the famous Tony Stark to find out just yet. Yet, things never go according to plan, but that shouldn’t matter, however, what matters is how we react to it.

📝Words:📝 3.2k

⚠️Warnings:⚠️ internalised homophobia, sexual jokes, anxiety

💙Pairing:💙 Tony Stark!dad and reader!son, Peter Parker x male!reader (Steve Rogers x Tony Stark mentioned)

📎Note:📎Yet again, the timeline doesn’t make sense. Also, no proof read.

Being the child of an impulsive man was difficult, to say the least. And to make matters worse, that man just happened to be Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist all that jazz. Your father had a habit of being pushy, controlling and a straight-up dick. Yet, despite all of that, you loved him. He could be a pain in the ass but he never did it on purpose. You had inherited his sharp tongue so there never really was a quiet moment in the Stark-Rogers household. Steve was the man who kept your father grounded, didn’t let him get too ahead of himself. However, sometimes Tony slipped past Steve’s fingers, and on those occasions, Tony raised a lot of hell wherever he pleased and could only be talked down by you. Nick Fury had tried a couple of times, only receiving a bunch of curse words and a request to go fuck himself.

Needless to say, there was a lot of respect between your dad and you. Tony respected your wishes of having no part in the Avengers mess or you not wanting anything to do with the Stark Industries. It was a hard choice that you had to make, the company was his life’s work but you weren’t passionate about the things he was. You weren’t interested in robots or whatever it was that he was working on.

You wanted to do things you were passionate about, even if you weren’t sure what that was yet. I mean, you were still in high school, you didn’t need to know what you were interested in pursuing in the future.

Your locker slammed shut, bringing you back to reality, or more like Hell. You blinked once before turning your head to look at the man who had slammed your locker shut, somebody from the football team. They all looked the same to you, you only knew they were from the football team because of the jerseys they wore, it was all ridiculous in your opinion. Like a cult. Why do they need to wear jackets 24/7? Do they ever wash them?

The boy smiled at you, stretching out his disgusting face, ”Y/n.” He said, trying to make his voice smoky, but ended up just trembling. ”A guy who’s name I don’t even remember. What do you want?” You asked, tired already. His face dropped a little when you showed no emotion, but he composed himself quickly. ”Is it true what everybody keeps saying about you?” He asked, leaning a little closer. Your brows burrowed, ”what?”

He looked around a little before leaning in further, ”you know. Are you like gay?”

The voice rang throughout the halls it seemed, it tried to freeze you, it really did. You had to push through, nobody could know. You cleared your throat and shook your head. ”No, of course not. What do you take me for?” You asked, already turning away to leave.

”You can walk away all you want Stark boy, I know your secrets”, the boy yelled after you, catching a few looks from other students. The last part was said in a taunting sign-song way.

You fished out your phone to text Peter. ”Did you tell someone?” You typed, nervous. Peter was the only one who knew, well he had to since you two were kind of dating.

”Did I tell who what?” He asked, from behind you, startling you. He held out his phone when you turned to look at him. You stared at him, still a little spooked.

”One of the football guys came up to me. Apparently, people have been talking.” You muttered, anxious. Peter was still lost. You sighed, ”Peter, you poor sweet thing. You don’t have a thought behind those eyes, do you Peter?”

He shook his head, confused. You sighed again and showed Peter your limp wrist. Peter’s mouth immediately gaped open ”oh, you mean that. And no, I didn’t tell anyone.”

”Well somebody did. Now everybody knows!” You whisper-yelled. You were panicking. You could not have your dad finding out about this, you couldn’t. Your hands reached for your hair to pull on it. Peter luckily saw your frustration and led you away from all the people. He led you into a bathroom and made sure every stall was empty. ”Just breathe, we’ll figure this out.” Peter said and wet a paper towel with cold water, he pressed the cold paper towel on your forehead to calm you down. You closed your eyes, trying to breathe normally. It felt odd to have the power dynamic changed this way, usually, it was Peter freaking out and you reassuring him. ”I don’t really get why you’re so freaked about this. Your dad is dating Captain America, the environment doesn’t get more accepting than that.” Peter said after he figured out that your breathing had evened out. ”You’re right, I’m just not sure if I’m ready yet.” You sighed and grabbed Peter’s hand. You kissed his knuckles as a sign of thankfulness. ”Where would I be without you?” You said and cupped Peter’s cheek with the hand that previously held his hand. Peter smiled down at you, Peter was at an average height but you had gotten the little height you had from your dad, so not much.

”Why are you smiling like that?” You asked after Peter hadn’t stopped smiling at you even though it had been quite a while already. ”Just appreciating the little things in life,” he said, already laughing a little. ”Oh really?” You said and kicked Peter so that he almost toppled over. Peter groaned at the pain, it wasn’t the first time he had made that joke and it wasn’t the first time you had kicked him. You watched as Peter tried to recover before giving him your hand, ”let’s get to class shall we?” You asked and began leading him out.

You cried once you got home, you had been with Peter all day and it was already dark. You had figured that it was the best to hole away in your own room for the time being.

The elevator and your phone dinged in synch, the elevator signalling that you had reached your floor and the phone alerting you of a text message from Peter. You stepped out of the elevator and eyed the message, a link to a news article. Your finger hovered over the link for a couple of seconds before you finally clicked on it. The further you read the article the more you wanted to claw your own eyes out. ”Tony Stark’s secret child has even a bigger secret” not a title you optimally wanted to go with if you were writing an article. It does catch the eye but could use some work. The article contained some general information like your name and where you went to school, that was before a candid picture filled your screen. You and Peter in the school bathroom that morning. The article went on theorising about what was going on between the two of you, it was even hinted that you had in fact been aware of the picture being taken and only did all of that for your dad to notice you.

A rippled cry left your chest as you threw your phone. You officially hated the world and your life. It was only a matter of time before your dad found out and that is if he didn’t already know, you weren’t ready to have that conversation. It was also a matter of time before all of this was all over the news.

There was a part in your brain that thought that you being gay was an obvious thing in the sense that people would just assume your sexuality just because your dad was married to another man, that part was small but it was loud. You didn’t mind your own sexuality and you loved that your dad had found someone who he was happy with, and the fact that the person happened to be a man was just a nice plus to it all. However, you weren’t sure if everyone else saw it that way. You hadn’t grown up in the spotlight like your dad but it was only a matter of time before you ended up in it and when that happens there’s no telling how the world will react. But overall, really nice thoughts to have when you’re exhausted, you were lucky that it was Friday, you didn’t have to wake up early the next morning. You turned the light switch on in your room, only to find your dad sitting on your bed. He knew.

Tony turned to look at you when the lights turned on, he saw the fresh tear streaks on your cheeks and immediately stood up. ”What happened?” He asked and hugged you. You dropped your bag on the floor, not caring if something broke inside, you buried your head in the crook of his neck and only cried harder. Tony rubbed your back and tried to comfort you without really knowing what was wrong. You didn’t cry that often, yes you got upset pretty regularly and stuff like that but you didn’t really cry that much and even when you did cry, it wasn’t that often that your dad was there to comfort you. In his mind, you cried close to never and those times when you cried you were impossible to console. He thought that when you cried something was seriously wrong. To Tony’s relief, you quieted down after a few minutes and let go of Tony, he copied you.

You sat down on your bed, feeling a little embarrassed that you just cried into your dad’s shoulder like you were eight all over again. Both of you were silent, you waited for Tony to say something and he waited for you to collect yourself.

”You know, if somebody hurt you-” he started, only to be cut off. ”No, no dad nothing like that,” you sniffled and looked at him dead in the eye. He seemed to relax a little at that. ”Even if it was-” he continued quickly, not wanting to be cut off but was anyway. ”No, no one hurt me.” You reassured, sniffling a little. ”Why were you waiting for me anyway?” You asked after Tony remained silent. ”No it’s nothing we can talk about in the morning you seem exhausted.” He said and begun to leave. You grabbed his hand. ”No dad stay. I am tired yes but I can’t fall asleep.” You admitted. Tony sighed and sat down next to you. You let go of his hand only for him to grab it back. ”I heard a rumour.” Tony said quietly. Your shoulders stiffened as more tears filled your eyes. Tony heard your breath hitch and he turned to look at you, the sight broke his heart.

Tony shook his head, this isn’t how he thought he had raised his son, this isn’t how he wanted to handle this. ”You know what. It doesn’t matter, I love you no matter what and we do not have to talk about it, at least not until you’re ready.” Tony said and threw his arm over your shoulders. Hearing what your dad had to say relieved you, it felt nice to know that your dad would love you no matter what. It was clear since he was your dad and all but it’s good that he said it out loud. You rested your head on his shoulder and tried to enjoy this moment with him. You took a deep breath, it was now or never. You were upset that the world had once again ruined something of yours but it wasn’t like you to just give up at a little setback, with that attitude you would never have gotten anywhere in your life. ”It’s true, you know.” You finally said out loud. You felt as Tony tensed a little and you turned to look at him, he was smiling. ”Yeah, kinda figured.” He said and laughed, causing you to playfully slap him. ”On a more serious note, I don’t really get why you wouldn’t tell me but I respect your decision.” He admitted, kind of ruining the moment you were having. ”I didn’t tell you because I felt like it was somehow expected of me, not by you but by others. I think that people find it obvious that I’m gay and I don’t want to be known as that gay guy.” You confessed, hoping your dad wouldn’t feel bad. ”That sounds like internalised homophobia my dearest son.” Tony said. He was right, it’s difficult to say if that was normal or not but nevertheless, he was right. You nodded as a sign of understanding. "Did you see the news article?" You asked, kind of already knowing the answer. "Yeah, it's being taken care of," Tony replied, easing your anxieties about the whole ordeal a little bit.

”I hate that this needed to be a conversation. I just wished that when you started dating someone it would just be like at thanksgiving you walk in and introduce the guy and ask us to clear space for one more chair. I would’ve of course interrogated the guy but I feel like I have the right to-” Tony rambled. You laughed at your dad, he was good at heart and loved you very dearly. ”I don’t think you need to clear space at the table for a chair or interrogate Peter.” You said once Tony stopped rambling. ”I’m still going to interrogate him.” Tony said, knowing that his son was once again right. ”But Peter Parker as your first boyfriend is a good start. He sets the bar a little too high though, doesn’t he?” Tony said, earning a giggle out of you. ”First and only. It doesn’t get much better than Peter Parker does it?” You joked, well you weren’t really joking but you said it that way to not freak your poor old dad out. ”Yeah, he’s a keeper.” Steve’s voice boomed from the door. You and your dad both turned to look at Steve. ”Hi dad.” You said.

You had known Steve for almost your entire life, even if he and your dad hadn't been married for that long. Steve just always kind of was your dad. At the times when Tony would lock himself in his lab for days on end out of old habits, Steve would be there. Steve would keep you company and take care of you for a few days until he too became fed up with Tony being in the lab. Then he would put you on a "secret mission" of rescuing daddy from his lab where he was being held captive by his mind. Later on, you realised that the game had a lot more truths to it than one would imagine. You were even the person to ask your dad to marry Steve.

"Okay sweetie, give this little box to your dad and tell him it's from me," Steve had whispered to you. The both of you had stood in the elevator, on your way down to Tony's lab where he had been for two days already. "I think he knows it's from you." You had whispered back, not really understanding why you were whispering. Steve had given you a lot of instructions on what to do since he had been incredibly nervous. When the doors had opened and you had seen your dad sat in his usual spot you turned to Steve and whispered. "I'm going in blind now. Your plans suck."

Steve had watched from the elevator as you had skipped over to your dad, beaming with happiness. "Hi, daddy!" you had greeted Tony, who had put his screwdriver down and bent down to pick you up. "Hi, sweetie." Tony had greeted you back and placed you on his table, waiting eagerly on your next move. Steve had watched as you swung your legs back and forth and talked your mouth off to your dad whatever it was that had invaded your mind at the age of nine. It was most likely something about your birthday gifts that you got a couple of days earlier. Steve found the sight absolutely adorable, Tony had been hanging at the edge of his seat while listening to you and you were swinging back and forth while talking about something. Tony had even commented on things in between like: "oh now she didn't!" and "Oh I bet!" only to be told off by you: "Daddy you're talking over me. If you're goim to treat your child this badly this young you better fear the old people home you're goim to be put into."

"Did you really come all this way on the elevator to tell me about all of this?" Tony had asked you once he was sure that you had finished talking. "Oh no I didn't. Dad wants to rim you and wanted me to ask you!" You had beamed with proudness, finally, you were getting ahead with your mission. Steve had facepalmed in the elevator, he was sure that Tony would break, but he didn't. "You know squid I think I'm going to need a little more information on this." Tony had said, holding in a lot of laughter. You had reached into your dungarees, finally pulling out the small box and handing it to Tony. "That's for the rim." You had said and pointed at the box. Steve would have killed to see Tony's face at that moment when he had opened the box. Steve had seen how a wide smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Sweetie we talked about that -ng sound." Tony had finally said. You had huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. It wasn't your fault that sometimes others didn't understand you! When you got excited things sometimes got a little jumbled up.

Tony had turned to you after placing the box back on the table. "Will you tell daddy that I would love to wear the ring?" Tony had said and reached to put you back down from the table. "You can tell daddy yourself." You had said and pointed at Steve who was just walking out of the elevator. Tony turned to look at Steve. "So you want to rim me?" Tony had asked Steve who coughed to hide his laughter. "We practised but it didn't really work out," Steve said and placed his hand on Tony's shoulder. "Well daddy's plans suck so I had to go in blind!" you had tried to defend yourself. Tony had agreed with you. "So that's off the table?" Tony asked, looking up to Steve. "No definitely not, it just depends on if you say yes," Steve said, trying to make himself seem confident when in reality he was shitting himself. Tony grabbed the box and placed the ring inside on his finger. "Consider me a rimmed man!" he said and stood up from his chair to kiss Steve.

You shuddered at the sudden flashback, both of your dad's looked at you, concerned. "Just thought about when dad proposed. Just got the joke," You said and scrunched up your nose in disgust. Steve and Tony both laughed.

#marvel #The Avengers #Iron Man #irondad #tony stark #captain america #steve rogers #peter parker #spiderman #x male reader #oneshot #hurt #comfort #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x reader #tony stark x steve rogers

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inabottlelikelightning · 4 years ago

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10 fandoms, 10 characters, 10 tags :)

got tagged in this a While ago (@grenadinepeach thank u <3 <3 <3) and i thought i’d give it a shot since i’ve been in Quite a few fandoms

rules: show us your ten favorite characters from ten fandoms and then tag ten people to do the same.

1. theo raeken — teen wolf

yeah this can’t be a surprise to anyone. this man somehow inspired me enough to actually Start Writing. absolutely wild. love him to death. bamf dumbass. also it doesn’t hurt that he looks Like That.

honorable mentions: allison, lydia, kira. (sorry liam)

2. steve rogers — marvel

some of you may not know this about me but i was into marvel for Quite Some Time. i have to say 💓💗💖💞💝💘💕steve rogers 💞💓💗💖💕 in both the mcu and 616. and, like. avengers assemble. there is just something so.. [chefs kiss] about someone who has suffered So Much and still strives to just be a really good fucking person. i could write a whole essay on this mf. i love him a lot

honorable mentions: peter parker (SUCH a close second, not mcu because Yikes but aaaa 616 peter my beloved), peggy carter, miles morales, natasha romanoff

3. arthur ?????

i have seen inception an unspeakable amount of times and the most interesting thing is the Crumbs of information we have about all of the characters. he’s resourceful, he’s competent, he’s a great dresser. 10/10 don’t know anyone else who could take down a hotel full of men in a three piece suit with spontaneous changes in gravity. like godDAMN that’s attractive.

honorable mentions: i mean. there are only 7 total characters so, like.. eames i guess??

4. minerva mcgonagall — harry potter

oh MAN she was the Original bamf. screamed every time she came onscreen/on the page because i knew shit was about to go down. the only unproblematic character, and the only one fandom hasn’t absolutely Ruined. an accidental gem in the series, there’s no way joanne knew what she was doing here

honorable mentions: luna lovegood, neville longbottom, remus lupin

5. magnus bane — shadowhunters (TV)

okay so i just watched this series and good GOD it was so much better than the books. i felt like in the books magnus was always sidelined but the show really let him shine in all his warlock glory. absurdly powerful + very nice blazers + kickass eyeliner + amazing jewelry + cat dad + disgustingly kind + adopts various individuals as children as he goes through life because 💖💕💓💗found family💕💓💗💘. bisexual poc king. fucking love him, 17,000 exes and all.

honorable mentions: alec lightwood, izzy lightwood, raphael santiago

6. jared dunn — silicon valley

if you haven’t watched this show i would actually recommend it. it’s impressive. but jared is, by far, one of the FUNNIEST characters i have ever experienced in my whole life. the only reason he isn’t #1 on this list is because i feel a duty to everyone ^^ up there, but jared is. GOD. physical depiction of “perfectly pleasant and put together until he goes APESHIT”

honorable mentions: gilfoyle, bighead

7. crowley — good omens

true chaotic neutral at its finest. a bastard of a man, who Tries To Be Good Anyways. sad and pining. mortals believe he’s mafia, which is fucking hysterical to me. SINCE I STARTED THIS I FOUND OUT WE ARE GETTING A GOOD OMENS S2???? RISE TF UP

honorable mentions: aziraphale, anathema device

8. mazikeen — lucifer

she’s just.. uhhhh. she’s SO…… G O D. no words except that she’s the only reason i got through the 2nd season. so happy that she finally got a gf ❤️ she absolutely deserves it

honorable mentions: ella, trixie

9. toph beifong — avatar

absolute fucking legend. blind and kicked ass 24/7. this is my daughter and i love her very much. also apparently i’m an earthbender???? not too sure abt that one tho

honorable mentions: sokka, katara

10. alaric saltzman — the vampire diaries

okay couldn’t put a gif for this one bc of the tumblr limit but vampire hunter sticks around and acquires a vampire bro and a vampire daughter and trains a vampire hunter son and then acquires a vampire coparent to his 2 biological witch daughters… fantastic trope. i feel bad for him because his wives keep dying but he was a GIFT in the vampire diaries, no one did it like him

honorable mentions: bonnie bennett

tags: @attempted--eloquence @frustrateddumbbar @thecenturiestrickle @rohesiawrites @ttp5000 @cordelia---rose @songbvrd @li0nh34rt @edge0fmydesiree @lucilucialu

#theo raeken #❤️ steve rogers ❤️#arthur #minnie mcG #magnus bane #jared dunn #crowley #mazikeen #toph beifong #alaric saltzman

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blackswaneuroparedux · 4 years ago

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Anonymous said: I didn’t know too much about the late British philosopher Sir Roger Scruton until I followed your superbly cultured blog. As an ivy league educated American reading your posts, I feel he is a breath of fresh air as a sane and cultured conservative intellectual. We don’t really have his kind over here where things are heavily polarized between left and right, and sadly, we are often uncivil in our discourse. Sir Roger Scruton talks a lot about beauty especially in art (as indeed you do too), so for Scruton why does beauty as an aesthetic matter in art? Why should we care?

I thank you for your very kind words about my blog which I fear is not worthy of such fulsome praise.

However one who is worthy of praise (or at least gratitude and appreciation at least) is the late Sir Roger Scruton. I have had the pleasure to have met him on a few informal occasions.

Most memorably, I once got invited to High Table dinner at Peterhouse, Cambridge, by a friend who was a junior Don there. This was just after I had finished my studies at Cambridge and rather than pursue my PhD I opted instead to join the British army as a combat pilot officer. And so I found out that Scruton was dining too. We had very pleasant drinks in the SCR before and after dinner. He was exceptionally generous and kind in his consideration of others; we all basked in the gentle warmth of his wit and wisdom.

I remember talking to him about Xanthippe, Socrate’s wife, because I had read his wickedly funny fictional satire. In the book he credits the much maligned Xanthippe with being the brains behind all of Socrates’ famous philosophical ideas (as espoused by Plato).

On other occasions I had seen Roger Scruton give the odd lecture in London or at some cultural forum.

Other than that, I’ve always admire both the man and many of his ideas from afar. I do take issue with some of his intellectual ideas which seem to be taken a tad too far (he think pre-Raphaelites were kitsch) but it’s impossible to dislike the man in person.

Indeed the Marxist philosopher G.A. Cohen reportedly once refused to teach a seminar with Scruton, although they later became very good friends. This is the gap between the personal and the public persona. In public he was reviled as hate figure by some of the more intolerant of the leftists who were trying to shut him down from speaking. But in private his academic peers, writers, and philosophers, regardless of their political beliefs, hugely respected him and took his ideas seriously - because only in private will they ever admit that much of what Scruton talks about has come to pass.

In many ways he was like C.S. Lewis - a pariah to the Oxbridge establishment. At Oxford many dons poo-pooed his children stories, and especially his Christian ideas of faith, culture, and morality, and felt he should have laid off the lay theology and stuck to his academic speciality of English Literature. But an Oxford friend, now a don, tells me that many dons read his theological works in private because much of what he wrote has become hugely relevant today.

Scruton was a man of parts, some of which seemed irreconcilable: barrister, aesthetician, distinguished professor of aesthetics. Outside of brief pit stops at Cambridge, Oxford, and St Andrews, he was mostly based out of Birkbeck College, London University, which had a tradition of a working-class intake and to whom Scruton was something of a popular figure. He was also an editor of the ultra-Conservative Salisbury Review, organist, and an enthusiastic fox hunter. In addition he wrote over 50 books on philosophy, art, music, politics, literature, culture, sexuality, and religion, as well as finding time to write novels and two operas. He was widely recognised for his services to philosophy, teaching and public education, receiving a knighthood in 2016.

He was exactly the type of polymath England didn’t know what to do with because we British do discourage such continental affectations and we prefer people to know their lane and stick to it. Above all we’re suspicious of polymaths because no one likes a show off. Scruton could be accused of a few things but he never perceived as a show off. He was a gentle, reserved, and shy man of kindly manners.

He was never politically ‘Conservative’, or tried not to be. Indeed he encouraged many to think about defining “a philosophy of conservatism” and not “a philosophy for the Conservative Party.” In defining his own thoughts, he positioned conservatism to relation to its historical rivals, liberalism and socialism. He wrote that liberalism was the product of the enlightenment, which viewed society as a contract and the state as a system for guaranteeing individual rights. While he saw socialism as the product of the industrial revolution, and an ideology which views society as an economic system and the state as a means of distributing social wealth.

Like another great English thinkers, Michael Oakeshott, he felt that conservatives leaned more towards liberalism then socialism, but argued that for conservatives, freedom should also entail responsibility, which in turn depends on public spirit and virtue. Many classical liberals would agree.

In fact, he criticised Thatcherism for “its inadequate emphasis on the civic virtues, such as self-sacrifice, duty, solidarity and service of others.” Scruton agreed with classical liberals in believing that markets are not necessarily expressions of selfishness and greed, but heavily scolded his fellow Conservatives for allowing themselves to be caricatured as leaving social problems to the market. Classical liberals could be criticised for the same neglect.

Perhaps his conservative philosophy was best summed up when he wrote “Liberals seek freedom, socialists equality, and conservatives responsibility. And, without responsibility, neither freedom nor equality have any lasting value.”

Scruton’s politics were undoubtedly linked to his philosophy, which was broadly Hegelian. He took the view that all of the most important aspects of life – truth (the perception of the world as it is), beauty (the creation and appreciation of things valued for their own sake), and self-realisation (the establishment by a person of a coherent, autonomous identity) – can be achieved only as part of a cultural community within which meaning, standards and values are validated. But he had a wide and deep understanding of the history of western philosophy as a whole, and some of his best philosophical work consisted of explaining much more clearly than is often the case how different schools of western philosophy relate to one another.

People today still forget how he was a beacon for many East European intellectuals living under Communist rule in the 1980s. Scruton was deeply attached in belonging to a network of renowned Western scholars who were helping the political opposition in Eastern Europe. Their activity began in Czechoslovakia with the Jan Hus Foundation in 1980, supported by a broad spectrum of scholars from Jacques Derrida and Juergen Habermas to Roger Scruton and David Regan. Then came Poland, Hungary and later Romania. In Poland, Scruton co-founded the Jagiellonian Trust, a small but significant organisation. The other founders and active participants were Baroness Caroline Cox, Jessica Douglas-Home, Kathy Wilkes, Agnieszka Kołakowska, Dennis O’Keeffe, Timothy Garton Ash, and others.

Scruton had a particular sympathy for Prague and the Czech society, which bore fruit in the novel, Notes from Underground, which he wrote many years later. But his involvement in East European affairs was more than an emotional attachment. He believed that Eastern Europe - despite the communist terror and aggressive social engineering - managed to preserve a sense of historical continuity and strong ties to European and national traditions, more unconscious than openly articulated, which made it even more valuable. For this reason, decades later, he warned his East European friends against joining the European Union, arguing that whatever was left of those ties will be demolished by the political and ideological bulldozer of European bureaucracy.

Anyway, digressions aside, onto to the heart of your question.

Art matters.

Let’s start from there. Regardless of your personal tastes or aesthetics as you stand before a painting, slip inside a photograph, run your hand along the length of a sculpture, or move your body to the arrangements spiraling out of the concert speakers…something very primary - and primal - is happening. And much of it sub-conscious. There’s an element of trust.

Political philosopher, Hannah Arendt, defined artworks as “thought things,” ideas given material form to inspire reflection and rumination. Dialogue. Sometimes even discomfort. Art has the ability to move us, both positively and negatively. So we know that art matters. But the question posed by modern philosophers such as Roger Scruton has been: how do we want it to affect us?

Are we happy with the direction art is taking? Namely, says, Scruton, away from seeking “higher virtues” such as beauty and craftmanship, and instead, towards novelty for novelty’s sake, provoking emotional response under the guise of socio-political discourse.

Why does beauty in art matter?

Scruton asks us to wake up and start demanding something more from art other than disposable entertainment. “Through the pursuit of beauty,” suggests Scruton, “we shape the world as our own and come to understand our nature as spiritual beings. But art has turned its back on beauty and now we are surrounded by ugliness.” The great artists of the past, says Scruton, “were painfully aware that human life was full of care and suffering, but their remedy was beauty. The beautiful work of art brings consolation in sorrow and affirmation…It shows human life to be worthwhile.” But many modern artists, argues the philosopher, have become weary of this “sacred task” and replaced it with the “randomness” of art produced merely to gain notoriety and the result has been anywhere between kitsch to ugliness that ultimately leads to inward alienation and nihilistic despair.

The best way to understand Scruton’s idea of beauty in art and why it matters is to let him speak for himself. Click below on the video and watch a BBC documentary broadcast way back in 2009 that he did precisely on this subject, why beauty matters. It will not be a wasted hour but perhaps enrich and even enlighten your perspective on the importance of beauty in art.

vimeo

So I’ll do my best to summarise the point Scruton is making in this documentary above.

Here goes.....

In his 2009 documentary “Why Beauty Matters”, Scruton argues that beauty is a universal human need that elevates us and gives meaning to life. He sees beauty as a value, as important as truth or goodness, that can offer “consolation in sorrow and affirmation in joy”, therefore showing human life to be worthwhile.

According to Scruton, beauty is being lost in our modern world, particularly in the fields of art and architecture.

I was raised in many different cultures from India, Pakistan, to China, Japan, Southern Africa, and the Middle East as well schooling in rural Britain and Switzerland. So coming home to London on frequent visits was often a confusing experience because of the mismatch of modern art and new architecture. In life and in art I have chosen to see the beauty in things, locating myself in Paris, where I am surrounded by beauty, and understand the impact it can have on the everyday.

Scruton’s disdain for modern art begins with Marcel Duchamp’s urinal. Originally a satirical piece designed to mock the world of art and the snobberies that go with it, it has come to mean that anything can be art and anyone can be an artist. A “cult of ugliness” was created where originality is placed above beauty and the idea became more important than the artwork itself. He argues that art became a joke, endorsed by critics, doing away with a need for skill, taste or creativity.

Duchamp’s argument was that the value of any object lies solely in what each individual assigns it, and thus, anything can be declared “art,” and anyone an artist.

But is there something wrong with the idea that everything is art and everyone an artist? If we celebrate the democratic ideals of all citizens being equal and therefore their input having equal value, doesn’t Duchamp’s assertion make sense?

Who’s to say, after all, what constitutes beauty?

This resonated with me in particular and brought to mind when Scruton meets the artist Michael Craig-Martin and asks him about how Duchamp’s urinal first made him feel. Martin is best known for his work “An Oak Tree” which is a glass of water on a shelf, with text beside it explaining why it is an oak tree. Martin argues that Duchamp captures the imagination and that art is an art because we think of it as such.

When I first saw “An Oak Tree” I was confused and felt perhaps I didn’t have the intellect to understand it. When I would later question it with friends who worked in the art auction and gallery world, the response was always “You just don’t get it,” which became a common defence. To me, it was reminiscent of Hans Christian Andersen’s short tale “The Emperor’s New Clothes”, about two weavers who promise an emperor a new suit of clothes that they say is invisible to those who are unfit for their positions, stupid or incompetent. In reality, they make no clothes at all.

Scruton argues that the consumerist culture has been the catalyst for this change in modern art. We are always being sold something, through advertisements that feed our appetite for stuff, adverts try to be brash and outrageous to catch our attention. Art mimics advertising as artists attempt to create brands, the product that they sell is themselves. The more shocking and outrageous the artwork, the more attention it receives. Scruton is particularly disturbed by Piero Manzoni’s artwork “Artist’s Shit” which consists of 90 tin cans filled with the artist’s excrement.

Moreover the true aesthetic value, the beauty, has vanished in modern works that are selling for millions of dollars. In such works, by artists like Rothko, Franz Kline, Damien Hirst, and Tracey Emin, the beauty has been replaced by discourse. The lofty ideals of beauty are replaced by a social essay, however well intentioned.

A common argument for modern art is that it is reflecting modern life in all of its disorder and ugliness. Scruton suggests that great art has always shown the real in the light of the ideal and that in doing so it is transfigured.

A great painting does not necessarily have a beautiful subject matter, but it is made beautiful through the artist’s interpretation of it. Rembrandt shows this with his portraits of crinkly old women and men or the compassion and kindness of which Velazquez paints the dwarfs in the Spanish court. Modern art often takes the literal subject matter and misses the creative act. Scruton expresses this point using the comparison of Tracey Emin’s artwork ‘My Bed’ and a painting by Delacroix of the artist’s bed.

The subject matters are the same. The unmade beds in all of their sordid disdain. Delacroix brings beauty to a thing that lacks it through the considered artistry of his interpretation and by doing so, places a blessing on his own emotional chaos. Emin shares the ugliness that the bed shows by using the literal bed. According to Emin, it is art because she says that it is so.

Philosophers argued that through the pursuit of beauty, we shape the world as our home. Traditional architecture places beauty before utility, with ornate decorative details and proportions that satisfy our need for harmony. It reminds us that we have more than just practical needs but moral and spiritual needs too. Oscar Wilde said “All art is absolutely useless,” intended as praise by placing art above utility and on a level with love, friendship, and worship. These are not necessarily useful but are needed.

We have all experienced the feeling when we see something beautiful. To be transported by beauty, from the ordinary world to, as Scruton calls it, “the illuminated sphere of contemplation.” It is as if we feel the presence of a higher world. Since the beginning of western civilisation, poets and philosophers have seen the experience of beauty as a calling to the divine.

According to Scruton, Plato described beauty as a cosmic force flowing through us in the form of sexual desire. He separated the divine from sexuality through the distinction between love and lust. To lust is to take for oneself, whereas to love is to give. Platonic love removes lust and invites us to engage with it spiritually and not physically. As Plato says, “Beauty is a visitor from another world. We can do nothing with it save contemplate its pure radiance.”

Scruton makes the prescient point that art and beauty were traditionally aligned in religious works of art. Science impacted religion and created a spiritual vacuum. People began to look to nature for beauty, and there was a shift from religious works of art to paintings of landscapes and human life.

In today’s world of art and architecture, beauty is looked upon as a thing of the past with disdain. Scruton believes his vision of beauty gives meaning to the world and saves us from meaningless routines to take us to a place of higher contemplation. In this I think Scruton encourages us not to take revenge on reality by expressing its ugliness, but to return to where the real and the ideal may still exist in harmony “consoling our sorrows and amplifying our joys.”

Scruton believes when you train any of your senses you are privy to a heightened world. The artist sees beauty everywhere and they are able to draw that beauty out to show to others. One finds the most beauty in nature, and nature the best catalyst for creativity. The Tonalist painter George Inness advised artists to paint their emotional response to their subject, so that the viewer may hope to feel it too.

It must be said that Scruton’s views regarding art and beauty are not popular with the modern art crowd and their postmodern advocates. Having written several books on aesthetics, Scruton has developed a largely metaphysical aspect to understanding standards of art and beauty.

Throughout this documentary (and indeed his many books and articles), Scruton display a bias towards ‘high’ art, evidenced by a majority of his examples as well as his dismissal of much modern art. However on everyday beauty, there is much space for Scruton to challenge his own categories and extend his discussion to include examples from popular culture, such as in music, graphic design, and film. Omitting ‘low art’ in the discussion of beauty could lead one to conclude that beauty is not there.

It is here I would part ways with Scruton. I think there is beauty to be found in so called low art of car design, popular music or cinema for example - here I’m thinking of a Ferrari 250 GTO, jazz, or the films of Bergman, Bresson, or Kurosawa (among others) come to mind. Scruton gives short thrift to such 20th century art forms which should not be discounted when we talk of beauty. It’s hard to argue with Jean-Luc Godard for instance when he once said of French film pioneering director, Robert Bresson, “He is the French cinema, as Dostoevsky is the Russian novel and Mozart is German music.”

Overall though I believe Scruton does enough to leave us to ponder ourselves on the importance of beauty in the arts and our lives, including fine arts, music, and architecture. I think he succeeds in illuminating the poverty, dehumanisation and fraud of modernist and post-modernist cynicism, reductionism and nihilism. Scruton is rightly prescient in pointing the centrality of human aspiration and the longing for truth in both life and art.

In this he is correct in showing that goodness and beauty are universal and fundamentally important; and that the value of anything is not utilitarian and without meaning (e.g., Oscar Wilde’s claim that “All art is absolutely useless.”). Human beings are not purposeless material objects for mechanistic manipulation by others, and civil society itself depends upon a cultural consensus that beauty is real and every person should be respected with compassion as having dignity and nobility with very real spiritual needs to encounter and be transformed and uplifted by beauty.

Thanks for your question.

#ask #question #sir roger scruton #scruton #art #aesthetics #beauty #architecture #music #paintings #film #cinema #personal

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queen0fm0nsterz · 4 years ago

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*Slides a 5 dollar bill* So what are some of your ideas for those Little Nightmares fics?

OH BOY ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO KNOW.

Weeeell, I have various idea that I'm writing down all at the same time. I'll list the various AUs here.

The Gang! AU

Ok no this isn't some sort of Criminal AU, I literally didn't know what to name it JSKDKS

Anyway, I'm actually writing this along with a friend of mine. It's based on a rp we had and it's quite long. We're writing one chapter each, I'm currently finishing chapter five. It kinda follows the story of Little Nightmares 2, but at the same time is canon divergent. Does that make sense?

We added two of our kid OCs to travel with Mono and Six!

Their names are Zip and Emerald respectively, from left to right! Zip was made by my friend while Emerald is my kid. The art was done by me!

They're not the only OCs we made for this story; we also have five glitch kids, a couple of bullies and a patient from the Hospital.

Since it's long, we decided to split it into three parts. The first part takes place in the Pale City, the second part in the Maw and the third in a location made up by us that we're still crafting.

The good news: Mono doesn't get dropped and Runaway Kid is alive!

The bad news: everything else literally every single thing

It's gonna have a good ending, though. It's the least we can do after everything we put these kids through😭

Restaurant Maw! AU

Just the monsters of LN put in a modern setting! Not only that, it's Maw employees centric!

Basically in this AU the Maw is a very well-known restaurant and hotel, in a very similar fashion to the bathouse in Spirited Away. The Lady is obviously the boss, the Ferryman becomes the driver of the Maw's personal bus, Roger is the keeper, Bellhop is still a bellhop and also the maître d'hotel (aka the guy who makes sure the guests are comfortable etc.), the Chefs are still the Chefs - their names are Bruce and Bernard! And lastly, the Nomes are a bunch of waiters, bellhops and cooks.

Things are going very well for eveyone until one day the Chefs go outside for a smoking break and they find a baby in a box. They take her in and keep her hidden for a couple of days before the Lady invitably finds out.

She decides to let them keep her with the condition that they raise her on their own and take care of all of her needs wihout bothering her - which of course doesn't happen at all and eventually all the employees in the Maw grow attached to baby Sawako nicknamed Six.

This one has all my favorite tropes: slice of life, found family, and I'm hoping to achieve comedy (which is very complicated for me because I have a very dramatic style).

Plus the Chefs are italian because I'm italian and I claimed them, so if you want to see one of them teach the Lady how to swear in italian you came in the right place.

RCG and the Pretender Live! AU

And they lived! I started writing this immediately after I finished VLN but I was blinded by pain so it's a little messy. I have to edit it.

But basically the point is: they survived! But are stuck on land. The first to wake up is RCG, who I named Valeria, and she spots the Pretender a few feet from her and realizes that somehow they both managed to float ashore. Luckily for her, the Nest is now very far away, although they can still see it from the distance.

At first she wants to leave the Pretender there, but then decides to bring her along, tying her hands behind her back first. And so begins the girls voyage in the big wide world, trying to survive and becoming besties in the process.

Im debating wheter I want the Pretender to develop a little crush on RCG or not. Mhhhh. I'll let you guys know.

Mono Jumps in Time! AU

THIS ONE WAS INSPIRED BY THIS ADORABLE FANART BY @kelpermoosee !! Go check them out their art is adorable!!! This is also a Mono centric AU!

So basically! When Six is kidnapped by the Thin Man and Mono goes to save her, his high distress and strong, swirling emotions lead him to not only travel from a place to the next, but to also accidentally go back in time.

He jumps out from a TV but, surprise surprise, he's not in the Pale City anymore. He's landed right in front of the Pretender, who immediately takes a liking to him and wants him to be her new friend. Mono is extremely confused and at first and doesn't realize what happened, so obviously he tries to go back to the Pale City, but then he sees a girl in a yellow raincoat and immediately assumes she's Six.

He assumes that's where the Thin Man brought her, so he tries to run after her, but he's costantly hindered by either the Pretender or her staff. Will he ever get to "Six" and realize that he jumped in time? I'll decide, because this story is still under construction.

Six Forgets! AU

You know that quote from the comics?

"What's the last thing you remember? Tell me. If you don't tell us, you're sure to forget altogether."

Beautiful. And also what prompted me to come up with this AU.

Some things to clarify: the Eye is a collective conciousness that feeds off from negative emotions, the Thin Man lives but can't leave the Pale City, and The Lady is a grown up Six. The Maw kids from the comics are here! Plus a few OCs of mine.

And lastly: Six couldn't handle the guilt from dropping Mono and repressed all memories involving him altogheter, so she completely forgot about him.

Six gets on the Maw, but this time instead of waking up in a suitcase, she's brought to Roger adn the other children by the Ferryman. There, she befriends a few children but no one gets closer to her than the Runaway Kid. They both want to be free and plan an escape together.

In the meantime, Mono is still trapped in the Signal Tower, but he's convinced that Six let him slip by accident and that she'll come back for him. (The Eye is very frustated with him bc they be planning on feeding on his sadness and rage and then he has the audacity to be hopeful? The nerve!) That's until he gets a glimpse of his best friend and this unknown child through one of the TVs on the Maw, joking and playing with each other, and she confesses to this... no one, really, that he's the best friend she's ever had.

As you can imagine, Mono goes feral. The Eye couldn't be happier.

Chaos ensues! We got a lot of angst, violence, Monster!Mono and also some wholesome moments. Also out of context spoiler: RK and Six lead a revolution.

The Lost Ones

This one is just a bunch of quick drabbles that talk about the glitching remains. They all deserved better.

Hunter and Veronica

I was not gonna miss the occasion of writing simp hunter. Take it or leave it.

Based on my Hunter theory!

My beautiful terrible disaster of a man works on the Maw as a chef, but no one really knows why since he's not good at it. Fortunately, the vast majority of the Guests is just too hungry to care and the current Lady, a woman with a scarecrow mask, doesn't want to fire him. A few Guests have complains, though; for example, a Teacher who seemingly never blinks and a very massive Doctor, whom he befriends.

One day, a filming crew gets on the Maw and the Lady informs her staff that they will be staying for a while to film a commercial-documentary of the restaurant, which will bring more and more Guests. With the crew came a famous, very talented chef named Veronica who has her own extremely successful cooking show, who offers to help the current chef as a thank you for letting them stay without having to pay.

Initially the Hunter is not too happy about this. In his eyes he doesn't need the help, but they start getting closer and closer with time.

This will probably be wholesome but end in a very bad, tragic way. I'd say I'm sorry but I'm not lol

✓✓✓

And that's it for now. I have some other things planned with my monster OCs (btw y'all wanna see them?), but this is the whole thing. It may be updated in the future since I always seem to get more and more ideas!

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tonystarktogo · 4 years ago

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It takes quite a bit of effort -- and some outstanding teamwork that Tony didn’t think he and Rogers would be capable of -- but they manage to break the helicarrier.

Hang on, that came out wrong.

To clarify [because Fury will undoubtedly be on Tony’s ass about this]: They don’t set out to break the helicarrier. But Barton, it turns out, is a damn talented saboteur and while Tony and Rogers successfully intercept his minions before they can get their hands on some of the very secret alien weapons SHIELD should’ve never gotten its hands on, they are way too late to do anything about the control center.

Or the rampaging Hulk. Who, if JARVIS is to be trusted -- who is always to be trusted because it’s JARVIS -- got into a screaming match with Thor. Wonderful.

Saving the helicarrier is a lost cause but they manage to break only part of it off -- the part they’re on because why wouldn’t they be -- so there’s a good 60% chance that not all of SHIELD’s top-of-the-top agents died in the crash.

Solid win for the good guys that.

[continues under the cut]

Sarcasm aside, they’re all alive. Tony caught Rogers -- not a fucking team player, ha --, Hulk is pretty hard to kill to the surprise of absolutely no one, save perhaps Ross, Thor and a very concussed-looking Loki can get downed by Captain America’s shield but are too godly-Asgardian-whatever to be phased by falling a couple of kilometers through the air and Romanoff just shows up amidst the rumble, covered in dirt, an ugly bruise on her jaw, blood tickling down her neck and the unconscious shape that is probably Barton slung over her shoulder.

Tony doesn’t even ask.

He’s too busy staring down Hulk. “Aren’t you supposed to be bigger?”

Instead of snarling, squashing him or whatever rage monsters do when they are told they aren’t impressive enough, Hulk claps his hands. “Tin man back!” he booms. “Hulk happy!”

Tony takes a wary step back. If Hulk tries to hug him too then big fan of the green guy or not, he’s taking to the sky and never coming back down again. Tony’s more than filled his hug-quota for the month, possibly for the year. And also people need to stop being so damn enthusiastic to see him, it’s gonna give him a complex.

Thankfully, there’s plenty of other people around him to serve as a distraction. Rogers for one is brushing already taking in their surroundings. Thankfully they’ve landed in an unhabitated, random hill in the middle of nowhere. The last thing Tony needs is more civilian causalities on his head. That said, he doesn’t recognize much of anything within eyesight, which isn’t promising.

Sure, his suit can probably get him out of here, but that still leaves a supersoldier, two secret agents and two Asgardians -- after Thor’s insistence on the term, Tony’s gonna stick with it, even if ‘god’ would freak more people out, see how well he’s taking other people’s feelings into consideration? -- unaccounted for. Plus the Hulk. But getting Big Green anywhere he doesn’t want to go would be impossible anyway.

“You alright there, Cap?”

“I’ll live.” Rogers grins at him, a little more tired and still with that same shadow that Tony can’t properly identify, but real nonetheless. Urgh. This much genuine happiness can’t be healthy. “Thanks for the help, Stark. You did good.”

Tony shrugs. “Hey, I’m all for team spirit and all that shit, ask anyone.” What else is he supposed to say?

Rogers snorts. Turns around to face Thor, who is carrying Loki towards them. Their future evil alien overlord doesn’t look too good up close, pale and haggard, with dark shadows under his eyes that would give Tony at his first post-Afghanistan depression a run for their money.

Not a record any sane person wants to beat.

“Everything alright with your brother?”

Tony’s impressed how casual Rogers makes the question sound. It’s impossible to tell if he’s concerned about Loki’s welfare or subtly requesting information on his mental state or even demanding a report about potential trouble. Well done.

“Nothing he won’t recover from.” The expression on Thor’s face is hard to read, almost blank, but the way his grip around Loki tightens is a tell on its own.

Sternly reminding himself that he’s not gonna involve himself in Norse god drama -- again -- Tony catches Romanoff’s eyes and nods towards her carry-on. “Barton good as well?”

“He’ll be fine.” She says evenly. A threat if Tony has ever heard one.

“Good.”

They both turn back towards the rest of the group. Even Hulk has joined them, perfectly content to just stand there and casually crush what’s left of the wreck inside his left hand. A powermove if Tony’s ever seen one -- really, if Tony didn’t already have his precious honeybear he’d claim Hulk as his best friend in a heartbeat. No second thoughts. Plenty of regrets. For other people, that is.

“Well, we’re all alive so that’s great.” Rogers rubs the back of his neck, wincing like he’s just realized how depressing that sounds. Shoots Loki an anything-but-inconspicious look. “I guess we should get back to the Tower, just in case.”

“What tower?” Tony asks over Thor’s agreement and Romanoff’s raised eyebrows -- they’re very loud raised eyebrows, okay.

Rogers freezes. The look on his face bears a weird resemblance to how Rhodey looked that one time Tony caught him with a Hammer gun.

“Uhm. Stark Tower?”

Tony crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Why would we go there?”

Why would they even go to NYC? They already have Loki, even if he doesn’t look particularly chained up from where Tony’s standing and they’ve even gotten some of the brainwashed minions back. Shouldn’t they focus on the Tesseract now? Or barring that on pissing off Fury into telling them what else besides hella-illegal-if-anyone-knew-about-it weapons manifacturing they haven’t been told?

“...to regroup?” Rogers asks slowly.

Tony gives him the look that statement deserves.

“That sounds like a sensible course of action,” Thor adds. “And I would like to leave my brother in a place where he can rest.”

What high-level security cell wasn’t chill enough? Tony swallows that comment at the last second, vaguely remembering the protective fevor Thor has shown in defense of his brother and not at all eager to become its target.

“Hulk sleep,” Hulk says, not being much of a help at all.

Romanoff’s eyebrows judge them all.

“It’s decided then!” Rogers claps his hands, blatantly ignoring the lack of agreement from the sanest two people present. “Let’s go see if we can find a car to hotwire.”

Tony stares after him. “I can’t believe Captain fucking America just said ‘see if we can find a car to hotwire’.”

Romanoff scoffs, even as her gaze flickers restlessly back and forth between Rogers, Hulk and Thor and Loki. “I can’t believe they call him the man with a plan.”

“Well, no one said it had to be a good plan.”

“Don’t worry,” Rogers calls out over his shoulder, cool as a cucumber and doing a terrible job of concealing the amusement in his tone, “if a giant hole appears in the sky, you and Thor get to play flying taxi.”

Tony exchanges a glance with Romanoff -- not an easy thing to do considering his faceplate is still up -- and says quietly. “The scary thing is I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.”

“He’s not,” Romanoff deadpans.

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toomanyrobins · 4 years ago

Text

a little birdie told me pt. 10

Summary: Y/N “Birdie” Parker left New York and her family three years ago in the middle of the night. Now, a call for help to her best friend brings her back into the fold of the Three Families and their “business”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Parker!Reader

Content warning: physical abuse, miscarriage, mentions of forced marriage, mentions of alcohol abuse

Word Count: 1.8k

series masterlist // next part

Y/N was in the kitchen when she heard someone return home. She had been sitting at the kitchen island, staring down at a glass of whiskey. She had poured it to settle her nerves, but had yet to pick it up. Pepper walked in and immediately could tell that something was bothering her daughter. She saw the glass and slowly slid it out of Y/N’s hands, “What’s wrong? I thought last night was a success. Did something happen?” The younger woman nodded and refused to meet Pepper’s eyes. It didn’t take much for the intuitive woman to guess what was ailing her daughter. She nodded, “You finally realized you are in love with Steve.”

“I didn’t mean to be,” Y/N wailed as she slammed her forehead onto the island, “ow.”

“Why is this such a bad thing?”

“Because the last person I was with was a terrible person,” Birdie grumbled, “I had every intention of staying single forever to avoid feeling like shit every again.”

“Honey, that’s insane. Anyone with eyes can see that Steve is disgustingly in love with you and would move mountains to make you happy.”

“It’s just so soon. Too soon.”

“There’s no timeline for this kind of thing. When you know, you know.” Pepper laughed to herself, “The funniest thing is that when I confronted your father about the arranged marriage, he told me that the plan was for you and Steve to get married.”

Y/N shot her head up and nearly toppled off the stool, “What? He picked Steve for me? I—I have to go.”

Y/N was trying to keep her head on straight as she walked into George’s office. The entire drive over, she had tried to calm down and approach this with some levelheadedness. Before she could even sit down across from the desk, that plan was thrown our the window, “I need answers and I don’t think Dad will tell me everything. Why were you going to marry me off to Steve?”

George sighed and leaned forward, “First of all, I’ve told your father that you should’ve been told about all of this. The truth of the matter is that we needed stability in the families and this was a way to bring us together. HYDRA had started gaining power and your marriage was a way to secure some balance and open up channels that had previously been closed off to us. Also, we had seen the two of you together. You got on well. Why the sudden interest?”

“I don’t know if I can stay here. Apparently, everyone has decided I’m Jamie’s mom. No kid deserves to be stuck with me as their mother.”

He leaned back in his chair, “He really did a number on you.”

Y/N felt like the air had been sucked from her lungs but she tried to play dumb, waiting to see how much he knew, “Who?”

“You think I don’t know things, Birdie? I’ve got your medical records from your hospital visit. I know that your hospital visit wasn’t a one time thing. I know about the miscarriage. I may not know his name, but I will soon.”

“Ho—how?

“I'm a Barnes. A third of the group that runs New York. You think I can’t get information?”

“Have you told anyone?” They both knew who Y/N was truly worried about.

“I haven’t told Steve or Tony. You should though. I highly doubt they would be mad at you for anything,” his voice softened, “You were abused, Birdie. Nothing that he did to you is your fault.”

Her nails were digging into her palm, trying to focus on anything else, “I let him kick me in the stomach. I didn’t even try to stop him. What kind of fucked up, evil person does that?”

“You’re not evil. You’re hurting and have been for a while. I don’t think running will solve anything for you. Are you truly capable of leaving Jamie behind? Your family? Can you leave Steve when you love him?”

Y/N looked at her godfather, “I don’t love Steve.”

He laughed, “You used to be better at lying. He has always brought you back down to earth. I thought a match between the two of you would settle you down. Steve even agreed to it, but he stipulated that you had to go to college first and that you had to agree. He couldn’t force it on you.”

Y/N couldn’t believe it. She thought that he had just been hiding the marriage from her. Never had she considered that he knew he was her future husband, “He knew the whole time? Why would he want to marry me?”

“Of course, he knew. God knows why, because you were insane, and still are. He was ready to marry you. Clearly he thought you could make each other happy.”

“He didn’t tell me he knew it was him the whole time. I just thought he knew you were marrying me off.”

“Seems he wanted a chance to romance you all on his own, but you were gone before he got the chance.”

“This is so much information,” Y/N rubbed her temples.

George poured himself a drink, “I was like you for a really long time. I fought with my father every time I saw him, and I spent most of my teens and twenties drunk and alone. It’s a sad, lonely life that you have an opportunity to avoid. Take a chance, make mistakes. It’ll be worth it.”

Y/N sat there for a minute, trying to absorb all of the information that had been thrown at her. The office door burst open and Tony came in, “Good, your mother said you’d be here. I need you to do something.” Y/N’s nerves immediately felt like they were on fire. The moment her father had that look on his face, it was a problem, “There is a deal coming up and we need to present a united front. With the rumours swirling since your return, we’ve discussed and think the best move is for you to marry Steve.”

“Tony—,” George tried to warn him that it wasn’t the time. The whole office was frozen as she absorbed the information.

The laugh that broke the spell was harsh when Y/N realized he wasn’t kidding, “Oh my god. OH MY GOD! That talk about not wasting my life was just a load of crap.” She whirled around to Tony, “You will never learn, will you? I am not some piece of property that you can trade!”

Her father tried to walk closer but she stopped him. He continued anyway, “What is your objection to Steve, exactly? He’s a good man...mostly. We thought he'd be a good match for you three years ago and you are even closer now.”

Y/N started to walk towards the door but she turned, “I knew about your plans for me then. It’s part of the reason I left. You move people around like pawns and don’t seem to know or care that your choices affect us. All I’ve ever wanted is a say in my life and every fucking time I think maybe it’ll be different, you manage to prove me wrong. So congratulations, you continue to fuck it up.” She stared unblinkingly at Tony, “I think it goes without saying that I’ll be taking you up on your offer.”

Y/N walked down into the Ivory bar on a mission. She found her brother in his usual booth with the group. She marched up to the table, “Evening, gentlemen.” They all nodded at her before she turned her attention to Steve. She planted her hands on the table, “Look here, Rogers, you can just move on to the next girl and stop wasting my time and yours. Do me a favor and lose my number. I’ll never marry you.”

She didn’t look back as the men watched her through the window. She swung her leg over her bike and shot off. No one said a word and instead turned to look at Tony and George who had come down after her.

After she had left, Y/N pulled off near Central Park and parked. She wandered for hours until she bumped into someone. She had felt the weight of someone’s gaze for a while. Spinning around, she expected to see a familiar guard and was ready to tell them off. Instead of one of Tony’s men, it was the person who haunted her nightmares. “Better watch where you’re going, darling.” The voice made her blood run cold. Y/N was looking into the eyes of Brock Rumlow, the devil himself.

She stumbled back, trying to put some distance between them, “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. You think I’d just let you leave?” Brock grabbed her arm and jammed a finger into her stomach, “You’ve got my kid in there.”

She laughed in his face, “No, I don’t.” He gritted his teeth and tightened his on her arm. Y/N knew that she was going to have bruises later.

“You killed our baby?” she shook her head, but Brock was blinded by rage. He shook her, “Don’t lie to me, you traitorous whore.”

“You beat me so badly that night that I lost the baby. There is no one to blame but you. And now, you have no claim over me.” Y/N wrenched her arm away, “You lose.”

“That’s where you are wrong, darling. What would Daddy Stark think of you running away to be with me? A member of HYDRA? Would they keep you if they knew the truth? You really would be a traitorous whore in everyone’s eyes.”

Y/N thought she was going to be sick. Brock was a member of HYDRA? She couldn’t believe she hadn’t known. This was so much worse than she could have imagined. “Stay away from me.” She turned and walked away.

He called after her, “I’ll be seeing you, baby!” The moment she rounded the corner, she took off in a run. Y/N’s thoughts flying as fast as she was down the streets. Once she was a block away, she cut off into an alley. She needed a moment to get her plan organized. As much as it pained her to admit it, Brock was probably right. If everyone knew the details about his connection to HYDRA, at minimum, she’d be exiled and never be able to see her family again. At worse, she’d be dead… a traitor to the Three Families. Y/N knew that there was only one thing she could do to make her position more secure and she hated it more than anything: she needed to marry Steve Rogers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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