#as a mercy the baby had his head smashed in before being tossed into a giant human blender

[greencreeker]

Gonna walk into my appointment tomorrow and ask my therapist if she has any ideas as to why lately I only have good dreams when I make myself stay up way past the point of exhaustion compared to the violent nightmares I have when I go to bed at a "reasonable" time.

[hitoshisbabygirl]

Author's Notes ♡: Here’s my part for the Auction Collab! As usual I love making blasty boy sorta soft (but still rough around the edges) instead of the often use of auctions being on the dark side I made it a bit lighter and not as dark. I hope I did a pretty good job with this and I hope you guys like it as much as I do (✿◠‿◠) ~ bunny ❥

Warnings : NSFW , some praising, also some degradation (sorta just a few words) , size kink if you squint, also slight edging, and a bit of a pussy job

Word count : 1.8k

Paring(s) : CEO!Bakugou Katsuki x F! Reader

Enjoy ♡

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Hearing the gavel hit the pottemum made and the final call of who won [. ] sighed, her eyes wandering to the floor as the disappointed sighs and a final was taken back into a room to get ready to meet who exactly won her ‘ i can't wait for this to be over’ Not having as much as she’d like , [. ] was on the lower side of money, being a cafe girl in a flourishing entrepreneur type of build was hard. She was offered a job as the assistant of the new boss and that hadn’t started yet, still a few weeks away. With that she did her other job as a caged dancer of sorts, but that didn’t mean people couldnt pay a pretty penny to get her. The bidding always made her nervous , she hated who could be clients and she didn’t want to keep letting men get that close to her. Knowing that a very large sum was being placed for her as she headed back she wondered who exactly would have bid so high.

Changing from her display outfit she heard a knock on her door. As expected a pair of men came in , one who she knew from being the bodyguard of whoever was the trophy , the other she guessed was the man who won. With a small smile to the guard and a nod from him he left, leaving the two “Ah yes miss [. ] , I’m come to get you on the behalf of my boss” the man said, bowing to her as her eyes widened at him, confused “So you’re here to just pick me up..?” She asked as the man shook his head , holding a hand to the young woman as he gave her a polite smile “ yes ma’am if you wouldn’t mind following me I’d take you to his property now” he said heading to the door with [. ] as she stopped a final time “well one last thing, what should i call you?” she asked the man as he gave her a soft smile back “Ah you could call me Mr.M”. The man, now named Mr.M said as [ ] gave him a small smile back , taking her put together bag with her , she followed the man out and to a fancy and luxury car. Heading to wherever this mystery man's estate was. Thinking over who exactly had bet and won on her made [ ]’s mind race ‘Was he old? How did he have the money to bid so high? And he has money to just send someone on his behalf? What if this man is him...Oh goodness…..’ Her thoughts were interrupted by the car stopping at a beautiful home, up on a hilltop of the city. Mr.M opened her door and held a hand out to her, helping her out the car and up the stairs to the main door.

“Well miss [ ] , my young master should be in his quarters. I'll leave you two for the night , he’ll ring for me if you guys need anything” With widen eyes [ ] gave him a skeptical look, about to question why he'd leave when she heard a thump from upstairs, being from right above them, signalling that someone was there. “It'll be quite alright, i'll only be a call away” with that Mr. M left , leaving [ ] in her thoughts as she slowly headed to the room her true bidder. Knocking onto the large and more luxurious door she was absolutely shocked by who opened the door “Oi M, did you get-” a bruting , shirtless blonde started to yell as he swung open his bedroom door, facing the shorter girl who was about to knock again. “Heh, well well well...Bet you didn't expect me huh darlin’ “ The rising young and wealthy CEO Katsuki Bakugou faced the now shocked and secretly excited [ ],who was glad it wasn't some old creep but terrified her that her in passing crush was in front of her.

“Mr B-bakugou?” [ ] said as the now large and built man moved towards her, pulling her into his large bedroom “I've been watching you...you were the cutest little thing i could see on my breaks and to know you were struggling for extra cash makes me feel bad sweetheart, you could've just came to me” He whispered as a shiver fell down [ ]’s back.”But sir I could never do that I’m just-“ before she could finish her statement she whimpered as she felt the hot lips of the young boss kiss right behind her ear, chuckling at her reactions to him. The grip of his hand on her waist was becoming tighter as he pulled her to the bed, the two of them falling onto the fluffy surface. “Cmon sweetheart, why don't you make some cute little sounds for me hm?” Bakugou rasped out as [ ] grabbed at his biceps , her nails leaving indents as she tried to hide from his burning gaze. “T-this is embarrassing Bakugou” She whined as the blonde chuckled “Call me by my name baby..” He whispered in her ear as he pushed himself even closer to her. Now chest to chest [ ] couldn't help but have to look up at the vermillion eyes that watched her every move, testing her to try and defy his overpowering stare. Still shaking in excitement and seeing how much she could test his patience, [ ] looked away from him, huffing as she hid her warming face. With that, Bakugou pushed a thick thigh between the sheerness of the dress that [ ] had on , feeling her pool between her legs.

“Hm? This wet and all i did was kiss you, heh you must be smitten with me huh?” Bakugou teased as she tugged at his unkempt hair, causing his smirk to turn into a groan as [ ] gave her own victory smirk “You're a good kisser..” She only said as she crashed their lips back together, keeping the blonde close as their tongues tangled. Feeling a large hand slide its way between her own thighs made [ ] pull away from the heavy kiss she and bakugou was having. Taking the hand from haphazardly around [ ]’s waist , Bakugou put that one under her chin to keep the now slightly trembling girls eyes on his “Look at me baby..ima take good care of you okay?” Bakugou said as [ ] blinked at him, feeling his fingers push harder into her little bud “Y-yes Suki..” She said as he let out a groan , smashing his lips back against hers as his finger slipped past her panties, rubbing her slickness back over the bundle of nerves. Hearing her moan between his lips made him give her mercy, pulling from the next kiss with a smack as he watched his fingers work under the dress she was in “Katsu..this isn’t fair..” [. ] said as she buried her face in his neck, biting at the junction she was perched in. Sliding her own hand down she reached for his own hardening problem, making the blonde jump as her smaller hands grabbed him over his sweats “Fuck..don’t do that unless you think you can take it” He warned, his hips moving and jerking into her hand that was now stroking the throbbing member. When a certain twist of her wrist made his tip leak through his pants he couldn’t take it, pushing his fingers deep into her warm walls, causing the duo to fall back even more onto the bed. “This isn’t a competition baby, I have to get you nice and wet so I can fit, relax and be good you needy slut” he huffed as he snatched her hand away, making his own dick angrily throb. Pushing the waistband down some he let himself spring free, the swollen red tip leaking with precum a sight to see as [. ] subconsciously gasped. “Ya like what you see huh?” The cocky boy tossed at her as [. ] herself just bit her lip, giving him a dangerously sweet look as she nodded her head to agree with him. “I bet you want it hm?” His teasing got worse as he pushed his hips closer, rubbing his tip against her fluttering lips as it pushed back and forth, pushing the hardest when it ran over her clit “Please Suki, it’s almost too much” [. ] groaned as she tried reaching between them to slide him in, only for Bakugou to growl, pushing her thighs together as he thrusted between them , the throbbing between her walls and his member made the two of them let out sound of pleasure. Feeling her clit constantly being hit by the mushroom top of bakugous dick [ ] felt herself get closer to breaking “I think I-i’m gonna cum-'' she whined as her hands went to tangle into his hair. BUt to her dismay, he stopped, lust filled eyes looked down at the tearing up ones under him

“Aww dont cry , youll get what you want” Bakugou smirked as he then slid in the now wet and sloppy mess he made between her legs, a shocked and loud screech falling from her lips as she tried to hold in the orgasm she was balancing on but all of that changed once he took a finger and traced over her sensitive clit, pushing her right over the edge. “F-fuck! Katsuuu” [ ] moaned out as he gave her a satisfied smirk, pushing her arching back down as he started to pound into her. “Cmon baby, gimme another one, i know you got it in ya” He barked out as he caged her in, his hands taking hers as nothing but moans fell from her lips, too high on her last orgasm to respond. Soon he felt her walls clench again and watched as her eyes rolled back another orgasm ripped through her “Thats it..good girl” kissing the pleasured tears that kept rolling from her eyes “ ‘ts too much..too much” She begged as he sped up, groans of ‘fuck’ and ‘cummin’ tumbling from Bakugous lips as he pushed as deep as he could `go, his dick throbbing as he filled into her. Her own walls spasmed one last time , a small but still intense last orgasm came through , mixing with the cum he filled her with.

As they came down from their highs , Bakugou sat up from her shoulder and sealed their highs with a kiss, holding the trembling girl in his arms. “Shhh it's okay baby i'm right here..you're okay” He cooed, kissing her forehead. Unknowingly to [ ] Bakugou wished for this ever since he met here at the cafe downstairs of his building. It didn't matter if he'd have to bet the most impossible and highest price to get her , no amount of money could suffice in his mind. She was smart, and driven, a hard worker and aimed to please. While she drifted on and off to sleep, he called the place she was auctioned at, telling them that she wouldn't be back and setting her to be his assistant at work. She was his, and no one was allowed to have her anymore.

[drabblingdraco]

Death Eater(s)- D.M.

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Summary: Draco has been hiding a secret from you, his best friend, but so have you.

A/N: hi it’s 3am and I just came up with this idea in my head. Enjoy :)

Do not read if you are underage

Warning(s): Angst, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, degrading

Draco slammed the door in anger. You followed him to the boy’s dormitory, nearly on his heels. He had run away after confronting him about what his problem was. Why he’d been acting so odd this term. Instead of him telling you exactly what was going on, like a reasonable person would do, he yelled and said nothing was wrong.

“Draco! Open the damn door!” You slammed your fist on the wood repeatedly. 

The door opened in an instant, revealing an angry Slytherin wizard.

“NOTHING IS WRONG! WHY ARE YOU SO FUCKING PERSISTENT? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been acting crazy too!” 

“Forget about me. I can tell when you’re upset. How many years have we been friends? A long fucking time. When you’re irritated, angry you have this constant look on your face, you rarely eat, sleep, speak. Draco I know you!”

“You don’t know anything.” He turned to face his window, leaning against the sill. 

“Then why don’t you tell me? That would solve everything.”

“You don’t understand..I can’t tell you this.”

“Why? Is it embarrassing? Come on, don’t be a pussy.” You shoved him.

He grabbed that same arm that touched him and yanked your body towards him. Instead of being inches away, your chests were touching. 

“I can’t tell you..” his facial expressions began to relax slightly. “But I can show you.” He threw your arm back down and reached for the sleeve of his blazer. His hands were shaking as he lifted his sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark. 

“This. This is what I can’t tell you.” You were shocked for a brief moment..and out of nowhere, a loud laugh escaped from your mouth. This enraged him more than ever. 

Draco pinned you against the wall, seething in his breath. 

“Why the bloody hell are you laughing?! This isn’t funny, not in the slightest!” 

He let his grip go and turned around, facing away from you with his head down.

You took a few steps closer to him. 

“You think you’re screwed? I’ll do you one better,” your tone was cold, bitter.

He turned to meet your eyes once again, watching as you too reached for your sweater sleeve. You almost hesitated, but as the green fabric got closer to your forearm, it was too late. Plastered and sewn into (y/s/c) was a Dark Mark.

Your eyes never left each others as you shared the moment. You were both given the most unfortunate and deadly duty a wizard could receive. His eyes were glassy, like he was about to cry. It was strange, seeing him this vulnerable. He put up such a front and never showed this side to Draco Malfoy. 

“Don’t cry, you little bitch,” slightly pushing his arm.

He grabbed the arm that pushed him, placing it on his cheeks. Your eyes still hadn’t left their lock. You placed the opposite hand on his face, now both your hands were cupping his cheeks.

Both your faces started leaning in further and further, till your lips finally met. Your hands tore through his hair, while his grasped your waist, so hard they would leave bruises. His tongue slithered in to your mouth, swirling in every possible direction.

You some how made your way to the bed. He tossed his blazer on the floor and ripped his shirt off. His freezing hands tickled your thighs has he explored your body, while his other hand ran its fingers through your long (y/h/c) hair.

“Are you sure?” You asked.

“Never been so sure.” His eyes scanned over your figure, admiring every centimeter.

You never thought you’d be doing this with your best friend. Of course he was hot, but he always had someone on the side. You also assumed he didn’t find you attractive, as your best friend. Sometimes when you’d lay in bed at night, you’d think about what it would be like to just be kissed by him.

He placed sweet marks all over your stomach. Your mind went into disarray, thinking about all the things he could do to you.

“Just fuck me already Malfoy.”

He looked up, his face still against your naval. Taking the top of your sweater, he ripped it over your head. Your hands scrambled through his hair, slightly pulling on the strands of blonde. Reaching your hand downwards, you caressed his member through his slacks as it grew harder.

“Hell, why haven’t we done this sooner.” He grit through his teeth.

“Because you’re an annoying arse.”

He smashed his lips on to yours and dove his tongue inside. Your grip on his locks tightened and he grunted. He left your lips and he lowered himself, leaving sensual, hot kisses down your neck. Occasionally leaving bites to create what would definitely catch people’s attention.

“Why aren’t you inside me yet? Too scared to fuck me, Malfoy?”

“That’s it.” Draco looped his fingers under the waistband of your skirt, yanking it down with a swift motion. He dove down and ripped your panties with his teeth and spit them on the floor.

Before you could say another syllable, his tongue was deep inside you. Swirling, sucking, anything he could possibly do to shut your mouth. You grasped the bed sheets in pleasure, when he suddenly stopped.

“The fuck?” You spat.

“You asked for it, so I’m giving it to you.” He whipped out his dick like it was a wand and jumped on to the bed, shoving himself in your walls without a second thought.

He didn’t give you any leeway as he thrusted into you. No patience, no mercy. He looked down at you as he roughly sunk in and out at a rapid pace. He smirked as he admired the sight of your bouncing tits.

“Oh Draco,” you moaned.

“You like that? Little Death Eater slut.” He groaned as you tightened around him, enjoying his idea of degradation.

“Yes, yes Draco.” You couldn’t stop all the words flowing out as his dick reached to what felt like your insides. Each stroke making you swallow him deeper every time.

One of his hands released its hold from your hip, finding its way to your neck. He squeezed.

“Tell me what you are baby.” He groaned, you could see he was almost ready to untangle.

“I’m- uh-“ you were reaching the end, so close to you cumming you could taste it.

“Say it, you can’t cum till you do.”

“I’m a- Death Eater- slut,” You let out a high pitch, exasperated moan. You felt his hot nectar spread across your walls.

He released from you and gazed at his liquid, pouring out of you like a waterfall. He laughed.

“Fuck you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Again?”

[amintyworld]

Falling In Love With You - Dream SMP Drabble

Prompt: DSMP Valentines Fanweek: 8th: Food/Music

A/N: Hey so if you haven’t been aware there’s a fanweek going on for Dream SMP that involves Valentines Day prompts, and I’ve always wanted to participate in one of these, so I’m gonna try to post drabbles when I can this week. ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ by Elvis Presley. Today we’ve got some Mermaid!Sally, so I hope you enjoy! - Minty

Tagging: @dsmp-fanweeks

TW: mention of vomiting, mention of miscarriage, memory loss, mention of death.

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

Wise men say 

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you

Sally lugged the passed out man onto the beach, checking to see thankfully he was still breathing. She would admit it was a shock to her when a human sank deep into her part of the ocean and for some reason or other did not seem to want to swim up. At first, the mermaid considered maybe just letting the human drown - after all, humans were always after her scales for their strange potions and often wanted to kidnap her anyway. Sweet revenge.

But her heart didn’t want revenge, instead, it urged her to show him mercy and be kind, and maybe in return, he’d be the same. Now, changing into her human form as her necklace flashed around her neck, she looked down at the human, watching him slowly breathe in and out, his dark brown locks messed and halfway covering his right eye. When suddenly his eyes snapped open as he looked around, they made eye contact as they both let out a loud scream, scrambling for weapons. “What.. what are you?!”

“Gee, a thanks would be nice for saving your life.”

“Saving my… where’s Tommy and Tubbo?!” The human said, looking around desperately for the two people he was asking for.

“Who?”

“My brothers, they were with me when we got cornered and had to jump. Where are they?” He asked, panicked.

“If they weren’t with you they must be upstream. They’re probably looking for you, come on.” She huffed, throwing down the rock she used as a makeshift weapon and walking over to hold her hand out and help the man to his feet. He hesitated before taking hers, both just staring into each other’s eyes for a moment before she began to walk past with a huff.

“Thank you.”

Sally turned around, surprised to hear the human say that as she absentmindedly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Uh… thanks.” She said, a smile spreading across her lips.

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

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can’t help falling in love with you?

“Alright Wilby, you’re going down,” Sally smirked as she adjusted her grip on the wooden sparring sword, her long hair up in a ponytail. Wilbur, on the other hand, smirked confidently. 

“Oh really? You underestimate my power, young padawan.” They both chuckled a bit at the joke before rushing forward, swords clashing together. Wilbur pushed against Sally’s sword as she lost balance and stumbled backward, Wilbur rushed to pin her to the floor before she jumped, just missing his strike and holding her wooden sword above her head to bring it down in a downward strike. Wilbur moved back just in time to dodge as he dashed forward, pinning her against a tree. “It’s no use - you’re a trapped sardine, or salmon more like.” He chuckled as she struggled against his grip, her sword on the ground.

Just a few feet away in some bushes, two teenage boys watched intently. “What are they doing?”

“Sparring, duh.”

“Why is she blushing then?”

“Huh…?”

Sally bit her lip as she weighed her options, a smirk appearing on her lips. “I know there’s only one way out of this one, Wilby. One way you’ll never resist.”

“Oh yeah, what’s-?” Sally pushed her lips against Wilbur’s, making him weak in the knees as sally effortlessly tossed his sword to the ground as well, focusing on the kiss before Wilbur grabbed her wrists and pinned them up against the tree trunk. “That’s cheating!”

“Yeah, I’d like to see the rulebook!”

Back in the bushes, Tubbo’s eyes lit up. “I know what this is: They’re flirting.”

“What’s flirting?”

“I think it’s when you try to make someone blush. They’re blushing because they’re sick. Philza told me.”

“Sick?”

“Yeah, lovesick. I think it’s like the flu.”

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

“Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be.”

Wilbur’s voice echoed through the dusk as Sally walked through the candlelit path, hearing Wilbur’s singing. Tubbo had passed her a note that said to meet Wilbur at the mountain before the messenger promptly jumped into the bushes humming the Mission Impossible theme. Walking up the mountain, the wind whipped her long hair around as Sally pulled her sweater closer to herself to get warmer. What in the world did Wilbur want with her all the way up here?

As she turned the corner she felt like she couldn’t breathe, as her world stopped and slowed. There Wilbur sat in what looked to be a worn grey suit, playing his guitar with a white lily, her favorite, wedged tightly in between the strings. Seeing her, he smiled, moving closer and leaning his guitar against the tree as he freed the lily, brushing her hair back behind her ear and safely tucking the lily in her hair. Her breaths caught in her throat as his hand moved to cup her cheek. “You look beautiful.”

“I-” Sally felt her cheeks heat up at the comment as she stammered, trying to change the topic. “You sent for me?”

“I had something to ask you, yes,” Wilbur said, lightly taking her hand in his as he leads her toward the edge where he was to see the stars begin to blink into existence. Wilbur took a deep breath. “We’ve been dating for a while now, and I was wondering… do you want to be my girlfriend?”

“Yes… I… nothing would make me happier than being with you, Wilby.”

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

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can’t help falling in love with you

“Wilbur, I’m pregnant,” Sally admitted, her hand still not letting his move from her belly. “It’s yours, Wilby.”

Wilbur brushed his hands through Sally’s hair, moving to cup her cheek, eyes darting back and forth. “Pregnant…?” He said, hopeful. It was their third day in Dream SMP - they’d been together for so long and had always wanted a family, but it never seemed to work no matter what they did. It seemed almost impossible to hear those words out of Sally’s mouth because for a long time Wilbur thought he’d never hear them. But here they were.

“We’re having a baby, Wilbur.” Sally smiled, leaning in against Wilbur’s chest and snugly putting her head between his neck and shoulder, wanting to be as close to him as possible. “You’re gonna be a Dad…”

Wilbur felt tears of joy go down his cheeks as he laughed softly, pulling Sally closer to rest her body against his fully, cuddling her close. His hands rubbed gently on her stomach, and he leaned up to kiss her softly on the neck. Their other hands interlocked tightly. “How… how long?”

“Three months. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a fluke before I told you.”

“I’m gonna be a Dad…” Wilbur sighed, kissing Sally’s cheek softly. “You’re gonna be a Momma.”

“I know. I didn’t believe it when I found out either. I was worried they’d… but they didn’t. They’re still here.”

“My little champion, my little warrior…” Wilbur smiled, tears going down his cheeks as he looked down at Sally’s stomach. “Don’t stop fighting now, okay? You’ve got so many people who’ve been waiting so long to finally meet you. I can’t wait to meet you.”

“I love you, Wilby.” Sally smiled, content. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Sally.” Wilbur breathed, holding his girlfriend close and not prepared to let her go anytime soon.

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

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be.

“Fine, I’ll go with you. Just leave the baby, please.”

“A wise decision. The Queen will be pleased to hear of your arrival back into the Pod.”

“You’ll leave the baby alone, and the humans?”

“Humans?” The guard with a necklace like hers smirked, holding back a laugh. “Why would we possibly care about humans?”

Sally held her baby close one last time as she ran her fingers through the small child’s fur. She still hadn’t even opened her eyes yet. She’ll have no idea what her own mother even looks like. She moved to kiss her daughter on the forehead as her black nose sniffed intently at her scent, not knowing it would be the last time she’d smell it. Her daughter, her little miracle. “I love you, don’t forget your mother loves you.” Carefully, she set the basket in the pond and with a little magic from her necklace, moved the water to drift the baby down a small river toward L’manburg. They’d all be safe, that’s all that matters now.

“Come on, Salaria. The Queen is awaiting your presence.”

“Of… of course.” Sally turned with a sigh as she sorrowfully followed her captor through the trees and away from her home. Her real home.

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

“Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can’t help falling in love with you.”

Sally sat near the water with Ghostbur, her heart shattered seeing him but was happy that she was able to, at least one last time. She sat with her arms crossed on the beach, her tail submerged in the water, her necklace gone. As punishment for ‘abandoning’ the Pod, she was no longer able to shift like the others and able to travel to the surface again. Her necklace was smashed, along with her hopes of ever seeing her real family ever again. At least now she could properly say goodbye to him, maybe even apologize. She slowly finished the song as Ghostbur continued to strum, listening intently.

“For I can’t help falling in love with you.”

“I… sang this for you?”

“All the time back in the day. You were very romantic.” Sally reassured Ghostbur. “We’d sing it together sometimes, other times you just strummed it on your guitar. It’s our song. Don’t you remember?”

“No, I…” A dark blue tear slid down the ghost’s cheek. “I don’t. I really want to, though. I want to remember you. I want to remember how it felt to love you, I’m really trying, but… but I can’t.”

Slowly, as Ghostbur sobbed Sally’s hand found its way into the ghost’s. “It’s okay. One day you’ll remember, I know you will. Whenever you do, I’ll be waiting right here for you. I love you, Ghostbur.” Sally said, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. “I love you no matter what.”

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch20: Bent But Not Yet Broken

Summary: The team are still searching for Katie, but with little luck. Meanwhile, she’s at the mercy of HYDRA…until help comes from a very unlikely place.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, bad language, beatings, smut (via flashbacks), brief descriptions and mentions of rape and torture. Major angst. 18+

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

A/N: I’m loving the banner for these three chapters!! And the edits @angrybirdcr​

Chapter 19

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Katie awoke alone wherever she was. They had driven her from the place she was taken for hours, right into the night, when she had been dragged out of the back of a van and shoved harshly into what looked like some kind of old factory, down a number of steps so she knew she was underground. They had offered her nothing, no food, or water and she’d simply curled up on the hard bed in the corner of the room and cried until she had fallen asleep.

She had no idea how long she had been there, no idea. There were no windows, just artificial light so she had no way of using the cycle of day and night. Eventually, the lock of the door clicked and she jumped to her feet as the door opened, and the large, burly man who reminded her of Rumlow stepped into her cell. Katie swallowed, but maintained her stance, her eyes locking onto his, jaw jutting up defiantly as he stepped towards her.

“My name is Jones, and I’m in charge of your interrogation.” he sneered.

Still she said nothing.

She was dragged to another room by this Jones, who sat in a chair opposite her with another agent, and asked what she knew about what SHIELD was up to, now it was under the control of Coulson. And then them targeting her made perfect sense, she was the only Avenger that knew he was alive (Ward had no idea she had told Steve) They informed her they knew she had to be working alongside him to track the Sceptre and HYDRA, even though she hadn’t seen him for months. 

And once more, she said nothing.

If it wasn’t so serious Katie would have laughed at their stupidity. Dumb fuckers had no idea about anything. She hadn’t given the sceptre a second thought since the Chitauri fight in New York and she certainly didn’t know where it was, or that Coulson had been tracking it.

She continued to say nothing when they drilled her about what she knew as to the whereabouts of Bucky, the ‘Asset’ or ‘Soldat’ as they referred to him. At that point, she had looked directly at the idiot who had been asking the questions wondering if he was born this stupid or if he suffered some kind of brain injury later in life, because only an idiot could possibly think that if the Avengers knew where he was that they would let HYDRA get their hands on him again. Unable to hold it in anymore, she’d laughed and simply shook her head. 

They stuck pins under her nails for that one, but still she hadn’t broken. Although it fucking hurt, like nothing had hurt before. She’d been unable to stop the tears of pain falling down her cheeks, but she made no noise as she trembled through the ordeal. Instead she tried to remember her training, allowing her mind to focus out, concentrate on something else, something nice. Something safe…

“Miss Stark?” JARVIS inquired again. Katie gave an exasperated sigh. Her alarm hadn’t gone off and it had been Steve that had awoken her half hour later than she wanted when his alarm went off. Now she was running, running way behind. She hadn’t even had chance to do her make up. Thankfully, at Steve’s insistence she had packed the night before. "Yes J?” “Mr. Stark has informed me that he’s begun to slowly pour out your coffee. If you don’t hurry, there won’t be any left.” She rolled her eyes, shoved her make up punch in the bag she was taking with her- plenty of time to do it on the way. The flight would be a few hours. She grabbed her bag, headed into the hallway and Steve walked out of the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. “I gotta go baby I’m sooo late.” She sighed “Tony will be having a fit.” Steve chuckled and quickly scanned her up and down.

“Nice suit.”

She glanced down at her black pinstriped jacket, trousers and a simple light blue button down.

“You making funna me?” she teased.

He shook his head “Not at all. You’re gorgeous as ever.” “Charmer.” she grinned as he leaned down to give her a quick kiss before she turned on her heels. “Love you.” She tossed over her shoulder. “You too” he smiled “See you later.”

She clung to that memory. The last time she had seen Steve. His soft kiss, his hair wet from his shower, that grey Underarmour shirt clinging to his form. And eventually when they realised that there was nothing she was going to say, they stopped and returned her to her cell leaving her alone once more.

Katie wasn’t stupid enough not to understand that there was an element of revenge in all of this too. Revenge on her, and Steve, at the fact they had been a key part of bringing Hydra to the broken, shattered organisation it now was. And as she sat there alone, nursing her sore fingers, she could do nothing but wish they had killed every, last one of the fuckers.

As time ticked by the interrogations continued. She had her fingernails dug up with pins, she was water-boarded, strangled to the point of passing out, and it was always the same. They’d push her, she’d continue to fight, and then then they would stop. They’d leave her for another stretch of time in that room, feeding her whatever meagre morsels they decided upon, deliberately weakening her system, and would come at her again.

But, the thing with being in Solitary confinement is that you have a lot of time to think. And think she did, whilst she nursed her various injuries. As such Katie had a pretty good idea now why they were so bothered about Coulson and SHIELD tracking the sceptre. There had been records of it in any of the files dumped on the internet when they had released SHIELD and HYDRA’s secrets to the world but she suspected it was in HYDRA’s possession and had been from the start, taken by Sitwell and STRIKE from the tower once they had defeated Loki. She further surmised, that it had been taken to the specialist department, STATION just like the rest of the Chitauri shit that they had recovered. Which meant that Strucker must have it. And they were worried for some reason that SHIELD were coming for it.

And then one day, they swiftly changed tact.

“All you need to do is tell me what the Avengers and SHIELD are planning next and you’ll be free to go.” Jones said, looking at her as she stood in her cell.

Katie snorted, because really? Did they think she was that stupid? She knew he was full of shit, he had no intention of releasing her. Even if she did or could cooperate, she’d be dead when they had what then needed. At least this way, whilst they thought she knew something, they would keep her alive. And the longer she was alive, the more chance the team had of finding her

Her snort earned her a sharp punch to the face which caused her to tall to the floor, where she received a harsh kick in the ribs, leaving her winded before he turned on his heels and left. Groaning, she pulled herself up over to her bed and lay on her side, wiping at the blood and tears on her face.

More time went by, and then she was pulled back out and dragged to the familiar, clinically white room they like to ‘interrogate her in’. This time they threatened to go back and find Tony, Steve, the rest of her friends and family, and kill them all. But this time she didn’t snort, she full on laughed, because the thought of them trying to get into the tower and meeting Earth’s Mightiest Heroes was hilarious. And the laughter just wouldn’t stop.

That was until she got a back hander across the face and another punch in the ribs.

But the next time they try something else, they almost break her. Almost.

They came for her in her cell and first off they took her rings. They’d already taken her necklace and her bracelet but they’d left these with her for some reason. But now, they wanted them. First off they went for the sparkling diamond on her left hand. She should just have let them have it, but she couldn’t. It’s her’s, her ‘big, fuck off Tiffany diamond’, her princess cut engagement ring that she had always dreamed of. So she tried to fight, and screamed when she felt and heard her fingers snap as Jones stamped on her hand. When they went for the emerald on her right, she was too caught up with the pain in her left to fight for that one. This time they were the ones laughing at her, laughing at her pain as she held her bust hand close and choked on deep sobs.

And then Jones did something far more humiliating and degrading and forced himself on her. She put up as good a fight as she could, considering the state her hand was in, but someone else grabbed her painful fingers and pinned her arms above her head, sniggering, calling her a “SHIELD slut…” The pain of him inside her was excruciating, but as she opened her mouth to scream at him, she looked in his face and knew that was what the bastard wanted. So instead she turned her head to the side and screwed her eyes shut. Trying to block it all out.

When he had finished his grunting and smashing into her, he passed her over to the man who had been pinning her arms above her head but by now she was emotionally dead. When he finished, she lay still for a moment before she heard footsteps and Jones crouched down besides her, holding her diamond ring between his thumb and fingers.

“You know…” He leered at her as she backed away, grabbing at her trousers and shakily pulling them up as she rose from the ground “I bet this is worth a pretty packet. You’d think that giving you a rock like that would mean he cares but where is he, huh? The Star Spangled Man doesn’t seem to have a plan at the moment.”

And then, despite the pain, despite the fact he has just violated her, she laughed again because, you know ‘Star Spangled Man with a Plan…’ and those ridiculous videos and that spandex…

In hindsight it probably wasn’t the brightest thing to do. Jones snapped and he unloaded on her, again, only this time it was savage. He lost his temper, and she would normally be slightly proud but she had no time to be as she was pushed into walls, punched, kicked, stomped on. She tried to fight back, and normally she would and could put up a decent battle against anyone, she’s an Avenger, but being weak from lack of decent food, lack of sleep, and the various injuries she’s already sustained plus the violent assault she had just taken had all left her weak.  And then the other one joined in. As they punched and kicked away she could hear faint voice echoing in her ringing ears, a brush of a thumb across her cheek, the warmth of a palm against her face.

“God I love you, Doll…” Steve looks down at her as he lies over her gently, both of them slightly breathless, sheets tangled around her legs.

She staggered to her feet and then her nose was smashed by a fist. Once more she was transported to another place, a mission, from way before her and Steve started dating, one where she caught an elbow to the face by some dickhead who had taken a Diplomat’s daughter hostage…

“It’s broken,” she says, matter of factly, as her Captain’s hand gently reaches up, thumb and forefinger carefully tilting her head so he can see her face.

He gives her a pained smile. “Yeah, looks like.” whilst he gently hands her an ice pack before standing up, and dropping a hand to the top of her head.

Katie was tossed around that room like Loki was by the Hulk. Oh wouldn’t it be great if Banner appeared now, Hulked out and ripped the place apart. Or Thor, lighting all these fuckers up. Or Widow for that matter, delivering them one of those delectable shocks. Or Clint, placing arrows between their eyes. Or Tony dispatching of them with whatever weapon he chooses. Or Steve, using his shield to break their bones and faces…

But no one came.

Jones glanced down at her “This is your own fault.” His boot swiftly collided with her midriff one last time. “One way or another, I will get something out of you. Maybe you’ll speak when we take you up to see a couple of my special friends… they’re good at making people comply.”

And they left her, a bleeding, battered mess on the floor.

Eventually she mustered the strength to crawl to the bed at the side of the room, hauling herself up onto the bare mattress. - they’d taken every little bit of comfort from her including the blankets and her warmer outer clothing and shoes leaving her merely in her blouse and her trousers, both filthy and covered in blood. 

Everything hurt. Everywhere. Physically and mentally. And she was tired. From lack of sleep. The lights were kept on blindingly light all the time and she was craving the darkness of her bedroom in the tower.

How long was it since she’d been in her own bed? Certainly longer than days but was it weeks? Months? One second of time simply melted into the next in this place. The sobs wracked her painful chest as she let out the first word she had spoken since she had arrived, God knows how long ago, a single gasp of his name.

“Stevie…”

******

“Errr, do you have an appointment!”  Katie grinned as Steve walked into her office, shutting the door behind him.

“Do I need one?” he asked she turned round from where she had been stood looking in a filing cabinet.

 “Distractions always need an appointment.” “Is that what I am?” he pouted.

“When you come in here dressed like that, yes.” she said, pointing up and down taking in his jeans and grey top “That T-shirt is ridiculously tight, and your ass looks great in those jeans.

"It’s all yours, baby.” He grinned, hands sliding to her hips as hers slid up round his neck. “Can you spare your distraction enough time for lunch?” Katie let out a groan “I can’t, I’ve got a working lunch today as we’re looking over a proposal we got in from another publishers. I could probably grab a coffee though, I got like 20 minutes.”

 “20 minutes?” Steve asked, arching an eyebrow and Katie immediately grinned as his eyes dropped to her lips.

“What are you suggesting Captain Bad Ass?” “Nothing” he said, innocently. Before he smirked “Does the door lock?”

 “J…” Katie spoke, not taking her eyes of his “Do me a favour and lock down my office for half an hour, full black-out.” “Certainly Miss Stark.”

The door locks clicked, the blinds into the main office area closed, and Katie looked up to check the CCTV cameras were also down too. “That doesn’t make it sound proof though, just so you know…” she said.

Steve smirked and then kissed her hard, pulling her to him, one hand on her back the other tangled in her hair before he reached down, sliding his hands up and under her skirt sliding the grey material up over her thighs.

“I’m not gonna lie…”he murmured, lifting her up onto the desk so she was sat in front of him “Seeing you in these office skirts and tops… its kinda hot.”

She smirked into his kiss as she tugged at the material of his t-shirt until he raised his arms so she could pull it up, over his head and off. She was groping his bare chest as he pressed against her, rubbing her spot with his still covered crotch. She moaned at the rough denim of his jeans pushing against her, the thin barrier of her underwear doing nothing to stop the sensation.

"Tease.” she growled into his mouth before reaching down to unbuckle his pants and Steve grinned before sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth when she reached in and grasped him in her hand. His hands started opening the buttons of her blouse  then once they were open he gently reached into the cups of her bra, pulling her breasts out, dipping his head down to suck at one of her nipples, his hand drifting back downwards to tug at her underwear. She moaned and shifted so he could pull them down her legs.

As he followed them down, dropping to his knees, he took an ankle into his hand pulling her foot up.

“These stay on.” He instructed referring to her heels and she nodded biting her lip as he threw her leg over his shoulder exposing her completely.  She grappled for grip on the sleek, wooden desk, settling for one hand curling round the edge, the other finding its place back in his hair as he gave one long perfect lick, listening to her soft groans. He worked her with his mouth and her head tipped back, a constant stream of soft moans escaping her lips. He drove her right to the edge, his mouth and tongue knew how to play her perfectly now, and when he could tell she was close he rose gracefully and gently pushed her back, wrapping her legs round his waist so he was supporting her hips with his, and he pushed into her in one easy thrust.

“Jesus…” he  shuddered, as he bent over to gently kiss her, his hands on her hips as he continued to thrust in and out. Fuck, this was hot. Papers, pens, staplers went flying off  the desk as he pushed harder and harder, his name tumbling from her lips, “Stevie…” pure pleasure and ecstasy, and lust,and desire. 

“Stevie!” This time his name was a shout, filled with terror, and fear, and pain, and it vibrated through him, painfully.

With his own yell, Steve sat bolt upright, before falling off the couch with a crash. Shaking his head, taking a deep breath he blinked his tired eyes and the room in front of him came slowly into focus. His eyes fell on a picture of the two of them in a frame sitting on one of the shelves by the TV. Both of them smiling as they stood in jackets, scarves and hats in the snow in Central Park, arms round one another. There are more of them together, and with their friends and family. Tearing his eyes away he looked around and spotted the pair of her shoes that had been kicked off by the door the last time she had walked through it, some 4 weeks ago, shoes that he couldn’t bring himself to move.

How the fuck had he fallen asleep? He jumped suddenly and looks frantically around him for his phone, it was in his pocket. There could be news, someone may have called, but he knows deep down that’s not true. They had no leads, every single but of intel they had had led them to nothing but dead ends. But he looked at it anyway and saw nothing. Nothing but her eyes and her smile peering back at him from the photo on his lock screen, along with the time and date, a reminder of just how long she’s been gone.

Steve took a deep breath and when he exhaled it came out in a deep, pitiful sob.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, his breath and voice catching as he curled up, leaning back against the sofa, his arms hugging his knees to his chest “I’m sorry, so sorry sweetheart, we’re trying, I’m trying, I’m so sorry…”

******

Steve couldn’t decide if time was moving too slow or too fast. The weeks without her were flashing by his eyes but the days and the nights felt like they lasted forever. He couldn’t understand how it was only 3 in the afternoon, mind you, having said that, the days and nights all blurred into one. He wasn’t sleeping properly after all. His nightmares were frequent, only now it wasn’t the ice or Bucky he saw. It was her, crying, screaming for help and him not being able to do anything about it.

Pouring himself what felt like his 17th coffee of the day he turned to see Sam walking into the room. Steve nodded to him.

 “Cap, I know this isn’t top of your priority list but…” Sam turned to check they were alone before he carried on “I had a call today from one of my contacts. They have a potential sighing of Ol’ Frosty.” Despite himself Steve picks up, interested “Where.”

“Canadian Border, Montana. Mean anything?”

Steve shook his head “Is there a Hydra base nearby?”

“Not that we know of. I can take a look?” Steve nodded. “Thanks Sam.”

Sam took a deep breath. The man looked utterly broken, but he wasn’t surprised. Katie had been gone for 5 weeks and they had nothing. They were now taking a deep dive into old intel, the information they had recovered from the bases they had raided and re-raided. She wasn’t at any of them, but then they hadn’t expected her to be. Hydra were too smart for that

 The pair of them wheeled round when suddenly Clint appeared in the door way “Cap… Coulson is here, says he has news.”

“Thanks.” Steve said,

Oh he had news alright. The location of another Hydra base that no one knew about, one they had dug up on the seemingly never ending search for that fucking sceptre. It was a small military outpost just outside of Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. Coulson had dispatched a team to do some recon, and they had spoken to locals who had informed them that the base had been empty with no one seen or heard entering for years.

“Until 5 weeks ago.” Coulson said, looking around at them from his seat at the table “According to a man out walking his dog, an SUV came straight down the road and into the gates, locking them behind him. A load of men in suits climbed out, so he assumed they were government. Since then Mr Dog Walker has seen armed guards on the gate each day. So they brought something there, we just don’t know what,“

“5 weeks…” Natasha breathed out “That’s too much of a coincidence!”

“Yeah, so I had my team sweep the base immediately…” Coulson sighed, as he looked around the room “There was no one there, but they did find evidence that Katie was there at some point.”

 Steve turned his head away and stood up sharply, walking to the edge of the room, looking out into the hallway.

“What kind of evidence?” Tony asked, his voice cracking.

Coulson hesitated before he pushed the plastic bag across the table and Steve walked back as Tony tipped the contents out onto the table.

Her StarkPhone, in 2 pieces, clearly done to avoid them tracing her, the Captain America shield design that Tony had engraved on the back for a joke blinked in the light like it was mocking them. Her diamond star pendant that Steve bought  her for Christmas and the bracelet he had brought her for her birthday, clasps broken on both as if they had been ripped off. But it was the flash of yellow, green and silver and diamond that made Steve’s heart stop. Her rings. Bright platinum and yellow gold. Sparkling diamond, deep green emerald.

There’s no way she would have given those up without a fight…

Tony pushed himself away from the table, a sob catching in his throat whilst Steve reached out to gently pick up his girl’s rings. He could hardly make them out now, the tears in his own eyes blurred his vision. He closed his palm around them, and walked out of the room, but not before he gave a loud, angry yet broken cry and his fist punched straight through the re-enforced glass in one of the windows that looked out into the corridor. 

He headed up to the roof, he’d been coming here a lot recently. Good way to get some peace, away from everything. Except he was never away, because she was with him, in his head, every damned movement he made.  He glanced across the skyline, his eyes falling on Central Park. The leaves on some of the trees already a bright mixture of reds, golds and oranges. Fall was his favourite time of year, he loved the colours. It was an artist’s dream. Not Katie’s though. Oh no.

“She hates this time of year.” Steve said simply as he looked out over the New York Skyline, not turning to look at Tony as he drew up beside him.

“Everything dies and it’s a bit shit.” Tony mumbled, sticking his hands in his pockets as he uttered the words Katie uses to describe Autumn. Steve knew what he was saying, but the pair of them couldn’t help but inhale at the sentiments of the word.

"Sorry… “ Tony sighed, “I just…” he trailed off, shrugging.

Steve shrugged also as he turned to look at the man besides him, lips curling into a despondent sort of smile. “I know…”

The two men stood in silence before a short, despairing chuckle burst from Steve . “You know, this time last year she made a pie,” he shook his head “I was teasing her about being miserable it was Autumn and she said the only thing decent about it is you can make apple pie. And I told her she was ridiculous, as surely apple pie can be made any time of year…” “That’s my mom” Tony said, smiling and he gave a small huff of laughter “Mom always used to make pies autumn through winter but never any other time of year…”

“I didn’t even wait for it to cool.” Steve chuckled. “As soon as it came out of the oven there was a scoop of ice cream on it and I was digging in. She stabbed me with a fork”

Tony snorted “Sounds about right.”

“It was the best fucking apple pie I’ve eaten.” Steve sniffed. “Damned it..” his voice cracked “ I’d give anything to have her here to make another…”

Tony glanced up at the soldier, the tears evident in his eyes.

“Katie told me she thinks you’re the strongest person she’s ever known,” he breathed out. “Learning to live and start again in a world that has continually done nothing but beat you down… “

“I don’t feel strong now.” Steve whispered, turning to face Tony.

“You have to be.” Tony said “We all do, that’s the only way we’re gonna find her.” Even in the dim light, through his own tears, Tony could see the grief on Steve’s face. There was utter desperation and sadness in his blue eyes, the tears now shining as they fell down his cheeks. The Captain released a long, shuddering breath before wiping at his face stating simply, “I don’t know how to be strong without her Tony.”

“She makes me better too.” Tony said, his own eyes now spilling with tears, “And for that reason alone we have to find her. And we have to bring her home.” his eyes turn back to the city which is now starting to light up as the sun begins to dips behind the horizon “And then she can make a damned pie.”

*****

He parked the truck at the end of the long drive, hiding it between two trees and then climbed out, the smells, the sounds of the wind, everything was familiar, but it was clear, sharp, as if he wasn’t experiencing it all through a veil of fog.

This was the last place on his list. He had by no way, shape or form eliminated everyone that had been involved in his programming, but he’d taken the main ones he remembered. And there was one left. A Doctor. A Doctor that had been sadistic. A Doctor that had been sadistic and enjoyed what he did, experimenting on him, on others. He wasn’t sure if he had been the type of person to seek revenge before they had done this to him and he didn’t really care either, and besides, it wasn’t just revenge…it was closure. After this one was dead, that was it. He was going to lay low, try and make sense of these whirring memories that came back to him in a jumble. Sometimes he could make sense of them, and some of them were stronger than others, like the ones of him in the war. He could remember the missions mainly. And then some of them from before were hazier, a short, skinny, sickly blond haired boy. Punk…

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” He knew the boy was Steve. Captain America leader of the Commandos. He remembered Steve but he didn’t feel that he knew him. But he understood that he should, the display at the Smithsonian had told him that.

Best friends since childhood.

The longer he stayed out of Hydra’s grasp the more his mind was his own, and it was only a matter of time, he hoped, till he did remember. But until then, he needed to slip away. Be a ghost story once more.

One more…

Picking the gun up off the passenger seat he zipped up his jacket and made his way towards the facility, making sure he kept to the cover of the expanse of forest and open green space that surrounded it. Of course it would be in the fuck end of nowhere. No one to hear the screams. He easily dispatched the guards at the gate, and the 4 that then rush out to greet him are no match for him. That’s one upside to this entire situation, he can fight. And fight better than he ever could

“Pick on someone your own size…” He swiftly boots the guy right up the ass and down the alley.

“You know, sometimes I think you like getting punched.” He turns to the small, blonde man standing up, dusting himself off.

“I had him on the ropes.” By the time he made his way inside he can hear the alarm going, and he smirked to himself slightly. Like it matters. Anyone who tried to stop him was dealt with, anyone who simply ran away, well he wasn’t here for them. They could go. He navigated the clinical corridor easily, by memory or instinct he doesn’t know but he eventually found the room. Something stopped him for a second, and a rush of vivid and loud memories flashed in front of his eyes.

“Soldat!” the voice is loud, almost a bark. “Hold out your arm.” He holds out his metal arm.

“The other one.” He does as he is told, and grits his teeth as the scalpel slices into him and they cut a chunk of his flesh away.

“Take that to my lab.” the voice says “I want to run some tests on his healing qualities, isolate the properties…keep him here, I can study his recover too…” With blood dripping down his arm, they take him back to his room, his cell at the other end of the facility, without even giving him a bandage.

With a low growl he kicked the door open and the man in the chair looked up at him, his eyes growing wide in fear.

“Soldat-”

The Doctor was cut off when a large boot kicked him hard in the chest, causing him to topple over backwards, the chair crashing to the floor. In one stride he was over him, gun levelled at his head.

“My name is Bucky.” He stated simply before he discharged his gun straight between the fucker’s eyes.

It’s done. It’s finished.

Turning on his heels he walked out of the room and aimed a punch to the man that launched at him from the right, sending him down easily. He then saw the flash of a gun as it went off, easily dodging the shot. He turned and fired one of his own, straight into the bastard’s knee cap and he collapsed. His path was now clear and he was about to leave, but then he heard it.

A jumbled scream of names, but it was the tone that set his nerves on edge. It was broken, the scream of someone desperate, someone that wasn’t here of their own accord. It was heart-wrenching, pitiful…and it was female

Automatically he spun and headed towards it.

*****

Katie had no idea when she last ate, it was certainly before they moved her here to this new place anyway. She didn’t trust them not to poison her, so at some point she stopped eating completely. She still refused to talk, and seeing as she knew they wanted her to scream, to shout in pain, to verify that what they are doing to her hurt, she also learned to stop crying out.

They wanted her to break. They continued to violate her, seemingly visiting her to get their fill whenever the ‘mood’ took them, but she held tight, tight to her memories, thoughts, trust in her fiancé, brother, her Avengers family to find her, tight to her desperate hope, and above all else, tight to that Stark pig-headed stubbornness.

She will NOT break. She will not give these fuckers anything. And if that means she dies, so be it.

As she lay on her bed, weak, her stomach churning from the bruises and hunger, there was a shrill noise in her ears, probably from the beating she took yesterday, but the more she tried to focus, the louder it became. And then she heard voices, yells.

The sound of gunfire made her sit up, fast, a little too fast and she cried out in pain as her body protested to the movement, but now she understood, the shrill noise was an alarm.

“He’s in the main lab…” She heard someone yelling.

And then Jones’ voice replied, he was getting closer as he spoke, she could tell “I’ll get the bitch, we need to move”.

Someone was here, and whoever it was wasn’t Hydra. And Katie let out a sob. It was them, it had to be, they’d come for her.

 The door to her cell flung open and Jones ran in to grab her arm.

“Time to go…” As he grabbed her arm and dragged her off the bed she screamed. As loud as she could. She screamed for Steve, then Tony, then Thor, Natasha, Clint…her voice cracking and croaky from lack of use, yelling the first words she’d spoken in his presence since they’d taken her.

She wasn’t staying quiet this time, not now rescue was so close by.

“Oh, now you talk…” Jones gave her a quick slap which left her dazed but, as he dragged her to the door he stopped dead halfway across the room. Katie looked up, struggling to focus and she could just make out a tall figure, blocking the way. For a moment she thought it was Steve, but then she realised he wasn’t tall enough. And the way he held himself was all wrong. Then she noticed his hair, and as he strode into the cell, murderous intent oozing from every part of his body, her eyes started to focus and she saw his face from under the peak of his cap, that haunted stare she remembered from the riverbank.

“Bucky.” Her voice was nothing but a whisper.

Bucky tilted his head, surveying her, but he didn’t acknowledge her. Instead, his eyes moved to Jones, and they suddenly lit with a furious fire and he stepped forward again.

Jones pushed Katie hard towards him. She fell again, and Bucky gently caught her, setting her quickly to one side as he grabbed Jones who was making a break for it towards the door. He gripped the man in his metal left arm, which was covered by a black leather jacket and glove, round the throat and squeezed, hard. The man’s bones and sinew and tissue crunched and squashed in his grip and he fell limp.

I don’t like men hitting women, you fucker. 

Bucky tossed Jones to the floor and Katie tried to push herself up from where she had fallen with her hands, but it hurt so much. Her broken one gave way and she lurched forward, bracing herself for the impact as she was about to fall flat on her face but the blow never came. Instead, a strong arm wrapped around her from behind and she was gently pulled back into a sitting position, as she fought to keep her sobs and cries under control. She looked up, following Bucky’s movement as he crouched down in front of her. She looked up at him, and managed a small smile.

“Thank you Bucky.” 

Bucky swallowed, she knew him? How? How did she know who he really was? He continued to look into her eyes, green and dull, sunken into a face that is spattered with bruises, died blood, cuts and angry red marks and then he recognised her, from that day on the river bank. 

The day he dragged Captain America, Steve, out of the Potomac.

“I’m Katie. Steve’s Girlfriend. You know Steve, right?”

What Hydra were doing with Steve’s girlfriend in this god-forsaken shithole he had no idea. But he also knew that he couldn’t leave her here.

“Can you stand?” He asked softly.

“I don’t know…” she choked out, her voice croaky. He decided it would be easier, and kinder to carry her. Removing his jacket and placing it round her shoulders, because it was cold outside and all she was wearing was a dirty blouse and trousers, no shoes or socks. He gently placed his metal arm round her back and his right under her knees, lifting her effortlessly up into his arms. She let out a small sob and a cry of pain as the movement jostled her slightly.

“Sorry.” He appologised gruffly, as she placed her arms round his neck for support and leaned into his warmth, the first kind and friendly touch she had felt in so damned long. Instinctively, she buried her face into his chest as he carried her, unable to believe that she was finally safe.

It wasn’t Steve, but at the moment she would have taken anyone.

Quickly Bucky made his way back through the base, up a short flight of stairs she had absolutely no recollection of coming down when she was brought here, and they emerged into the fresh air. The wind hit her face and stung her cheeks and she pressed her face harder into his chest, whimpering at the assault on her senses. Eventually, when she felt she had gotten control of herself she gently moved, ignoring the pain, to have a look around. The leaves on the trees around them were now sporting orange leaves, some having shed a few already.

It had been the 1st of September when she had been taken.

“Do you know the date?” she throatily asked as Bucky carried her gently but quickly towards a truck which was parked haphazardly in between 3 of the trees in a clearing set back from the road. How fucking long had they had her?

“10th October.” he replied

She gave another little sob as she did the maths in her head “6 weeks. 6 fucking weeks.”

“Try 70 years sweetheart” Bucky mumbled back, and his sarcasm made her snort a little laugh, and she instantly winced at the pain in her chest.

He gently helped her into the truck, laying her across her across the back seats, before he jumped in the driver’s side and gave a quick look around before he set off.

Katie pulled the jacket tighter around her and gave another loud sob, then the tears started, and she couldn’t stop.

“You’re safe.” Bucky cast a glance over his shoulder. “I won’t hurt you.” “I know.” He looked at her again, as she lay down, before she started to cough. Tilting onto her side, she tried to stop herself as it was painful, fire shooting across her stomach, up her side, her ribs…her hand…everything.  

“You need a hospital.” he said.

“No.” she shook her head

“You need medical attention”

“I can…”she took a deep breath, fighting the pain “Home. I’ll be safer with Steve and my brother.” Steve. Bucky swallowed thickly. “Where’s home?” he asked.

“Manhattan.” “I can’t go to Manhattan” he said, shaking his head.

“Yes you can.” she grimaced “Steve…he’ll help.” “I can’t go to Manhattan” he repeated. She didn’t respond and when he glanced back he saw she’d passed out, or was sleeping, he doesn’t know. He took a deep breath and for a split second toyed with ignoring her request and driving her to the nearest ER, but he understood her fear only too well. If Hydra took her, there’s a chance they’ll come back for her and she was right. Steve could keep her safe.

So he drove into the nearest Police Station, parked the truck outside leaving the engine and the heaters running, to keep her warm and with his baseball cap pulled as far down over his face, grabbed his rucksack. He hid behind a dumpster, not far away, keeping the car in sight. It didn’t take long until someone came out of the police station and walked over to the vehicle to investigate. Bucky saw the man peer inside before he gave a yell, and yanked open the back door. Bucky took a deep breath, and with one last look over his shoulder he headed off into the cold October wind.

******

“Miss…” a voice was stirring Katie. It was a soft voice, not the harsh one she was used to dealing with. And she was warm, she could smell leather. A bit like Steve’s jacket, but not, because it didn’t smell like him. Blinking she saw someone leaning over her and she instinctively tried to back up, but she hit something metal. Taking a moment she realised she was in a car. And then she remembered Bucky. Bucky had killed Jones and freed her. 

“Where…” she began and the large man spoke softly

“You’re in La Ronge…at the local police station.” he said, gently.

She glanced up, wary. “How do I know you’re not Hydra…” “Hydra?” he frowned and she took in his appearance. He was in a uniform, and he was flanked by other officers in a uniform.

“We’ve called an ambulance…” he began. “No!” She immediately yelled. “I need to go home…” “Ma’am…” “No. Hospital.” she growled, trying to sit up. “It isn’t safe. I need…” she took a deep breath “Can you call home, my fiancé, my brother, anyone…” “Where’s home ma’am.” “Avengers Tower.” she said, taking a deep breath. The man’s eyes grew wide as he looked at her, “You’re…oh my God, you’re Katie Stark…”

She nodded.

He leaned back out to one of the other officers and said something before leaning back into the car.

“There’s been a lot of people looking for you Miss Stark.” he said kindly “We’ll get someone on to your Brother right away. In the mean-time, we need to get you inside.”

She nodded and pushed herself up, gritting her teeth, trying to fight how much pain she was in. With a bit of a struggle and help she managed to shuffle herself out of the car. She steadied herself against it, whilst the officer looked at her and then gently moved towards her. Instinctively she shrunk back and he held his hands up.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I just thought you might need a hand walking.”

She did need a hand. After scrutinizing him for another second, she nodded and he gently scooped her up, causing her to hiss, and he took her inside. She was gently carried through the back of the station and into a warm, gently lit medical room of some sorts where she was set down on a soft medical bench.

“No hospital” she said again, feeling her eyes going droopy again.

“I promise.” the man nodded. “But we do have an on duty medic…maybe she could clean you up a little, and we can find you some clothes.” That sounded ok, and she nodded again, before the blackness took her once more

******

Steve couldn’t run. Not properly. He needed to be in the tower just in case. Not to mention the barrage of press camped on the doorstep since he had relented and told  Tony to go public a few days back.  And he hated the treadmill, seemed pointless, if he was running he actually wanted to get somewhere. So instead he took his frustration out on the punch bag. Every blow he landed was one for the fuckers that had taken his girl. He lost count of how many of the things he tore open but thankfully there seemed to be an endless supply, and someone to clear up the mess he left afterwards. Including the blood on the floor from his split knuckle as he had stopped bandaging his hands. The pain was twistedly comforting, something to actually feel when the rest of him was numb. "Trouble sleeping?”

He turned and saw her leaning in the doorway, wearing a pair of tight lycra leggings and a crop top that finished halfway down her perfect midriff and a cheeky grin as she took a drag from the water bottle in her hand.

He gave a laugh, as he caught the punch bag.

“At half 4 in the afternoon?” He quipped back as she crossed the room towards him. He noticed her skin was gleaming with sweat “you been training?”

“Sparring with Nat… she was an absolute bitch” Katie said, taking a drink from her water bottle “she needs to get laid then she might stop taking it out on me.”

“Or maybe you need to learn to punch better” he teased.

“Can you get divorced before you get married?” she said through narrowed eyes making him laugh. “I can punch just fine thanks”

“Show me whatcha got then” he nodded towards the punch bag. Taking another drink from her bottle she tossed it aside and shoved him in the chest, making him laugh again, stepping back as she passed. He watched as she took up her stance, feet slightly apart, arms raised, and she gave the bag a sharp jab with her right and it swung back away from her.

“Not bad…” he grinned, moving towards her. ”But if you tilt your hips…“ his hands fell to her waist and he moved her slightly "this way… legs slightly further…” he used his feet to nudge hers “this way and arms…” both his hands wrapped round her wrists, the light catching her ring on her left hand “little less high…” he used his arms to guide hers and swung and the bag sending it flying.

She dropped her arms and brought them around her front, taking his with them. “Admit it…” she said, her voice husky “my stance was fine you just wanted to touch me.”

“You have a very high opinion of yourself, or a very low opinion of me.” He said, his body stooping so his chin rest in her shoulder.

“No, I just know you too well Captain Sex Fiend…” she said, turning her head to face him, her lips brushing his.

He’d pushed her backwards, and took her hard and fast against the wooden clad walls of the gym, bodies slick and working together the way they always did. Her hands were in his hair, clawing at his back and it had left them both far more flushed than any other physical exercise ever did…. With one final punch as the memory faded Steve gave a cry of anger, frustration, grief, he had no idea what he was feeling, maybe all 3, but he knocked the damn thing straight off the chain anyway. “Captain Rogers…” JARVIS suddenly spoke. “Yeah.” He responded, his voice croaky from unshed tears. “Mr Stark has asked that you meet him immediately in the hanger. There has been a development regarding Miss Stark” Steve didn’t respond, he grabbed his dark, red hoody and sprinted out of the door.

“She’s been found.” Tony said, wheeling round to look at him as he ran up the ramp to the jet, not waiting for him to speak. “In the back of a stolen car that was abandoned outside a station in La Ronge.“

“Is she…” he choked out, and Tony gave a small smile and a sniff.

“She’s alive. But she’s not in great shape, and she’s refusing to go to hospital, told them to call us instead.”

Steve’s hands flying up to cover his face and they slid into his hair as he dropped into the seat behind Tony, the relief washing all over his body. Tony began to flip the switches, firing up the jet, at the same time as Bruce walked on board.

“We got something?” He looked at the two men.

 “Yeah..” Tony said “Some police station in La Ronge called. They have her, but she’s…she’s not in a good way so we need…” He gestured to Bruce and pointed to one of the seats.

Bruce let out a deep breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. “That’s great…that’s she’s been found…”

“Jarvis, you got that flight plan?” Tony asked.

 “Yes Sir, you are expected at the air field, some 15 miles from the station. The Sergeant who called will meet you there. ETA 3pm”

 Tony turned to Steve as the jet began to rise, the soldier was looking down at his hands, breathing deeply. He was a jumble of emotions, relief she was ok, worried about what state she was in, angry at who had done this to her. He was jerked out of his thoughts by Tony who gently clamped him on the shoulder.

 Blue eyes met dark brown, both shimmering with tears. “Let’s go get our girl” Tony smiled softly.

**** Chapter 21

**Original Posting**

[cherryeol04]

Baby Boy (M)

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Pegging, subby Hyunjin, Bottom Hyunjin, degradation

A/N: Thank you to @channiesmixtape for inspiring me to write this monster of a beast. I hope it turned out as good as I hope it did (spoiler: I don’t think it’s good at all lmao). This baby is dedicated to all my Hyunjin stans that just want to fuck the shit out of him. This one is for you!

At 7:30am your alarm went off like normal, jerking you out of your cozy warm dream. Your hand smacked against the nightstand, careful of the water glasses sitting somewhere on top as you searched for your phone. Finding it, you spam clicked the middle of the screen until your alarm was silenced and snooze began. As you settled back to grab another five more minutes of rest, the body next to you started to rouse and long, lanky arms encircle your waist, pulling you back closer to him.

A soft hum left your lips as you rolled slowly onto your other side and buried your face into Hyunjin’s neck, snuggling close into your boyfriend. It was early mornings like these that you absolutely adored while simultaneously hating them. Hating the fact you would eventually have to leave his warm embrace and go to work, but adored just how cozy Hyunjin made everything. His large frame always engulfed you - strong arms keeping you locked safely against his chest. It was heaven. Letting out a happy sigh, you shifted your head slightly up and pressed a gentle kiss to his neck. You didn’t expect the giggle that left his lips, but it made you smile none the less as you repeated the action a few more times, just to hear more of his sweet laughter.

“Y/n.” He whined out, pulling himself away slightly to give you a pout. He was absolutely adorable, lips plump and full and eyes lidded heavy with sleep. He was a gorgeous vision and you couldn’t stop yourself from voicing it.

“You’re so beautiful.” You whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek gently. He flushed lightly, wiggling down on the bed so he could hide his face into your chest. You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, fingers carding gently through his hair - working out any tangles you came across. “And now you’re cute.”

“No~!” Hyunjin whined, voice muffled slightly. “Stop it, it’s too early.”

“It’s never too early to tell you how much I love and adore you.” You cooed, leaning down to press a kiss to his head. “And I love you so much.” Hyunjin huffed and lifted his face, eyes locking with yours as he pouted harder.

“Stop being so sweet. My brain is barely functioning.” He complained and you laughed lightly at that. A sleepy Hyunjin was a cute but mostly stupid Hyunjin. You were tempted to see if you could get him to say some stupid or random things, but you decided to have mercy on him today. After all, you didn’t have that much longer to stay in bed together. As if able to read your mind, your alarm sounded and you both jerked at the loud sound blaring through the speaker. Grunting, Hyunjin lifted himself up and reached over, turning your alarm off once more before he settled himself over top of you this time. You adjusted yourself under him, arms looping around his shoulders once more as he rested his head against your shoulder. Your hand once more petted his head, fingers curling within the soft black locks. You started dozing once more, sure that snooze was on again and would wake you up in a few minutes. It would be the last time you could snooze too, though honestly you should probably already be up and getting ready.

Your mind had just started blanking when you felt Hyunjin rolling his hips. It started off as gentle, nearly barely there rolls that grew in intensity as the seconds passed. But it was the whimpers that he tried to muffle that really woke you up and when your eyes opened you were greeted to the sight of Hyunjin biting and sucking on his lower lip to keep himself quiet. “Mmm, baby boy, we don’t have time for this.” You mumbled out, fingers tugging at his hair despite your words. Hyunjin released his lip and let his moans spill freely as his hips buckled down against yours and you could feel his cock pressing against your pussy, twitching with need.

“Yes we do.” Hyunjin whispered, pushing himself up. Straddling your waist, he continued to rolled his hips, throwing you a sleepy smile. “Please baby? I’m so hard.”

You snickered at that, reaching out to rest your hands on his hips. “That’s not my fault.” You teased. You ran a hand up his side before dragging it back down and resting over his hard dick that was straining in his pants. “So easily worked up.” Licking your lips, you slowly moved your hand over his cock, groaning softly as he twitched and pulsed in your grip. Hyunjin’s hips jerked and he whined. Falling forward, he pressed his hands into the mattress by your head as he moved his hips, fucking himself into your fist.

“Please, Y/n. Need you.” His voice was nothing but a breathy whisper that sent sparks of pleasure up and down your spine, arousal pooling into your gut as you grew wetter.

“Yeah?” You asked. “How do you want me?”

“Need you to-“ he paused as he tossed his head back, your thumb swirling around the tip, a wet patch forming against it. “-to fuck me.”

“You want me to fuck you, baby boy?” Hyunjin nodded his head quickly, panting softly as he rocked up into your hand. “I don’t think you deserve it.” You mused and smirked. “Grinding against me like the little slut you are.” A sinful moan fell from Hyunjin’s parted lips as hips stuttered in their movement.

“Please, Y/n? I’ll be a good boy. Please.” He begged softly. “Want to feel you in me.” He pleaded, eyes wide and begging and god if you couldn’t say no to this boy. He was just too pretty for his own good - too innocent looking to not ruin.

“Get me ready then.” You said simply and Hyunjin lit up with a bright smile. Rolling off of you, he crawled to the other side of the bed and reached into the bottom drawer of the other nightstand, grabbing both the double ended vibrating dildo and lube. Crawling back to you, he dropped the items next to you before making quick work of your pajama bottoms and panties. The sight of your wet heat had him licking his lips with desire. Egging him on, you parted legs and reached down with one hand, parting your folds with your fingers so he could see just how wet you were for him. “Come on baby, we don’t have all morning.”

Reminded that your time was limited, Hyunjin all but dove down, tongue greedily lapping at your juices - lips encasing your sensitive clit. Hyunjin gave gentle sucks that had your thighs trembling at the intense pleasurable sensations that wrecked your body. “Fuck, baby.” You groaned out, fingers tangling into his hair and tugging, holding his face against your pussy. Moaning at the feeling, Hyunjin gripped your thighs tightly with intent to leave marks as he licked and sucked over every inch of you. Your hips lifted, bucking against his mouth as you grind against his face. “Just like that baby, so good.” You groaned out. Pleased, Hyunjin moaned again, the vibrations thrumming against your clit deliciously. You could feel yourself getting closer the longer you let Hyunjin’s sinful mouth work and eventually you pulled him away.

His mouth was slick with your juices, pupils blown wide with arousal as he stared at you. He looked so divine that you pulled him forward, smashing your lips together in a hungry kiss. Whimpering, Hyunjin parted his lips and you slipped your tongue into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. Growling into your mouth, Hyunjin’s hands scrambled to grab the dildo and lube while keeping your lips lock in the heated kiss. Blindly, he managed to open the lube and spread some of the liquid over both ends before he had to pull back. Looking down, he guided the smaller end to your entrance and slowly pushed it in, a content sigh falling from your lips as you’re filled up and the textured pad at the base pressed snuggly against your clit.

Laying back on the bed, you watched with intense eyes as Hyunjin stripped out of his clothes, lubed up his fingers and brought them back to his hole and you frowned. “Stop.” He halted his movements instantly and cocked his head with furrowed brows. “Turn around. I wanna see your hole as you prep yourself.” Hyunjin flushed at your request, but turned around none the less. Leaning forward on one hand, he barred himself to you, back arched as he reached back and ran his fingers over his pink, twitching hole. Biting his lower lip, he slipped a finger into himself, sighing softly as he worked it slowly in and out. Your eyes were glued to the finger as it disappeared inside him, working him open enough until he could slip a second finger in.

“Y/n.” Hyunjin whined out, head falling forward as he thrusted the two fingers in and out, stretching himself wider until he could fit in a third finger. He shook with a mixture of pleasure and exhaustion as he pushed his fingers all the way in, curling the tips to press and rub against prostate, sweet moans falling from his lips. With his fingers lodge perfectly against that sweet spot, he started rocking down on his fingers, fucking himself slowly.

“God.” You croaked out, exhaling deeply as your body hummed with want and desire, your pussy pulsing with arousal, walls clenching around the toy inside you - stimulating you. Bucking up, you grind yourself against the toy, moaning softly. “You look so beautiful Hyunjin. Think you’re ready?” Looking back at you, Hyunjin nodded as he carefully removed his fingers from his hole. “Come here baby.” Stilling your own movements, you held out your arms towards him, smiling as he crawled over to you and straddled your hips once more. Your hands finding purchase on his hips, holding them tightly as he adjusted himself to grab a hold of the dildo to hold it steady.

“Go slow.” You urged, but Hyunjin didn’t listen and lowered himself faster than intended, wincing as the toy stretched him further than his fingers could. “Stupid slut, so needy you can’t even listen to me.” You hissed out, your words pulling a whine from Hyunjin as his cock twitched. “You’re just a dumb puppy aren’t you?”

“Yes Mistress, your dumb puppy.”

“That’s right, and dumb puppies listen to their owners.” You smirked, smacking his thigh as his hips twitched and tried to move. “Don’t move.” You warned and he tried, he really tried to listen. But he couldn’t keep himself still, especially not when you reached down and pressed the button to make the dildo start vibrating. He rocked his hips slowly, gasping at the way the dildo shifted and moved inside him, dragging against his walls. Your own moans fell from your lips as his movements caused the other end to move within you, pressing and rubbing against your g-spot, sending white hot sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Yet you fought through the pleasure and with as much strength as you could muster, you forced Hyunjin’s hips still, making him whine out.

“No, please. Mistress please, let me move. I need to move.” He whimpered pathetically.

“Why?” You asked and he whined out, pleading with his eyes. “You’re so dumb you can’t even follow directions. So needy to have my cock fucking you open.” You mocked, grinning at Hyunjin’s pathetic attempt to free himself of your grip, his cock oozing precum with each degrading word you spoke. “Such a stupid cock slut, I don’t think you deserve this anymore.”

“No please! I promise to be good!”

“You already made that promise and you broke it.” You reminded him. He let out a sob as he floundered for an excuse or anything else to say. You took that time to run your eyes over his body. His chest was flushed, a light sheen of sweat already coating it. His chest heaved with fast pants, arms tense as he braced his hands on his thighs. His cock was flushed as well, hard and twitching between his legs. His thighs were flexing as he balanced on you, and you could see a flush creeping up from his knees. His entire body screamed small, beautiful and perfect and you wanted to see him completely wrecked. “You want to make it up to me baby?” You asked, dragging a hand from his hip to his cock, finger swirling around the tip teasingly. Hyunjin gasped and whimpered, arching lightly into the touch.

“Yes! Yes! More than anything.” He breathed. You chuckled at how quickly he answered and how eager he was to please.

“Then you’re gonna ride me, my beautiful prince. All on your own. And you can’t cum until I do. Think you can handle that, my pretty dumb slut? Hmm?” Your hand wrapped around his cock and stroked it slowly, watching as precum pearled at the tip before spilling over and coating your hand, making the slide easier. “Well, go on.” You urged. Biting his bottom lip, Hyunjin whimpered as he lifted himself up slowly before lowering back down, a soft mewl leaving him. He repeated the action a few more times before slowly gaining speed. He was practically dropping himself down and the force had the toy moving within you. Back and forth over and over again it rubbed against your g-spot and your clit. Your toes curled as the pleasure spiked within you, your moans getting louder, nearly rivaling Hyunjin’s.

“Ah~ Mistress, fuck. You feel so good inside me.” He moaned out and you shivered at his words, the coil of arousal in your gut tightening. You could feel it, your orgasm was mounting the longer Hyunjin fucked himself above you. You wanted to continue to torture Hyunjin, but the need to cum overcame you. You were so fucking close. Just a little more. Planting your feet in the bed, you gripped Hyunjin’s hips tightly, nails biting into the soft flesh. With your legs spread wider, you felt so open and exposed and the way the textured pad rubbed against your clit only heightened the pleasure - the want. You bucked up just as Hyunjin dropped back down and his breath hitched as his head fell back. The loudest moan you had ever head followed moments later and you smirked, thrusting up into him again, pulling out another moan from him.

“You like that baby boy? Hmm?”

He struggled to speak and eventually gave a shaky nod. “C-close.” You chuckled at that, hips still thrusting upwards, pounding into Hyunjin to get the dildo to fuck your pussy harder.

“Not yet, not until I cum.” You reminded him and Hyunjin all but sobbed. With a shaky hand, he reached behind him, fumbling for a moment before finally pressing the button on the dildo. The soft vibrations increased and you jerked up, shuddering. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You gasped out and bucked up a few more times. The stimulation coupled with the beautiful sight of Hyunjin bouncing on the silicon dick sent you over the edge. With a cry of his name, you came, walls clenching around the toy as you jerked and withered. Panting heavily, you rolled your hips up slowly to ride out your high. Opening your eyes, you watched as Hyunjin trembled, body tense as he stared down at you with pleading eyes.

“Please.”

Barely a whisper, but you knew exactly what he was begging for. You wrapped your hand around his cock, stroking him twice before he was spilling into your hand. “Oh my god.” He gasped out, eyes closing tightly as he basked in his high. Panting heavily, you brought your messy hand up and started licking it clean, humming contently at the sweet taste - pleased that Hyunjin had finally taken to eating a better diet.

Once clean, you dropped your hand and smiled up at Hyunjin, chuckling softly at his tired and fucked out state. Leaning down, he pressed your lips together in a gentle kiss, giggling to himself as he lifted himself off the toy and laid down next to you. Groaning softly, you reached down and turned off the vibrations before carefully pulling the toy out of you. You were going to put the toy aside to be cleaned later when your phone off and you jerked, dropping the toy.

Groaning, you rolled over and pressed the off button on your alarm, staring at how late the time was and you debated if you should just call into work because fuck if you weren’t tired now. But in the end, you decided that you needed to go to work. Sighing softly, you smiled as you felt Hyunjin’s arms around your waist and soft lips against your shoulder. “Don’t go.” He whined softly. Leaning back against him, you laughed softly as you reached up and stroked his head gently.

“I have to go to work baby.” He pouted and bit at your shoulder and you jerked, huffing. “Don’t be a brat. I’ll be home before you know it. And we can play again then.”

“Yeah? Can I fuck you this time Y/n?” He asked, voice husky and you shivered. “Wanna fuck you next time. Feel your wet pussy clenching around my dick.”

“Oh fuck, Hyunjin.” You whined and pulled away, pouting at him. How dare he try and work you up! You were so tempted to say screw it and let him have his way with you, but you steeled yourself and leaned in, pressing a kiss to his red, swollen lips. “Later. I need to get ready.” He pouted, but didn’t try to tempt you anymore. He laid back down on the bed and you smiled at him.

“I love you, baby boy.”

“I love you too. Now go before I tie you up.” He sighed dramatically and you giggled.

“Such a drama llama.” You teased and climbed out of the bed. He hummed lightly and as you headed into the bathroom. You paused to look back at him, only to find Hyunjin fast asleep. With a fond smile, you shook your head and walked into the bathroom, intent to get ready for the day ahead.

[impala-dreamer]

Trust Me

SPN FanFic

~Misha agrees to give you what you've been asking for and fulfill a fantasy of yours, however, it's Misha, and you should have known better than to assume he didn't have something extra up his sleeve.~

Misha x Reader, Jensen x Reader

3,331 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Handcuffs. Light Bondage. Lots of All The Smut. Multiple Orgasms. Overstimulation. Multiple Partners. Aftercare. Misha being a bastard. Jensen being sexy and dominant.

A/N: This is my first square off @spnkinkbingo​ 2020! This fills my "Handcuffs" square and is a gift to my wife. I hope you all enjoy :)

2020 SPNKinkBingo Masterlist ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ Find My Original Works on Amazon

“These aren’t real, though… right?” You looked up into devilish blue eyes and Misha smirked as he clicked the cold steel around your left wrist.

“Sure,” he teased, but you couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.

Misha gave your cheek a quick kiss before leaning over your naked body to fit your right hand into the other cuff. His chest was firm and warm, smashing your breasts and knocking your breath away for a delicious second. The handcuffs were tight and the pull in your shoulder distracted you from the tingle growing between your legs.

“No, really,” you tried again with an innocent laugh. “These are the handcuffs from set, right? Like, I can slip right out if I wiggle the right way.”

He shrugged as he pulled away. Goddamn shrugged, like it was the most common thing in the world to have you splayed naked across his bed, locked by four cold rings of steel.

A nervous twinge rolled in your belly. “Misha!”

The mattress jumped as he stood up and turned his back to you. “You wanted to be cuffed, sweetness. You’re cuffed.”

Eyes screwed tight with anxiety, you tried to slip free of the cuff on your right arm, turning your wrist just as you did on set, waiting to hear the little pop, feel the metal give. Nothing moved but your wrist.

“These are real!” Shock raised your voice to an enraged squeak and Misha spun on his heel, looking over at you with a smile.

“Don’t you trust me?” He pushed the tip of his tongue between his teeth and grinned.

A breath caught in your throat and your nipples hardened. “No...Not when you’re making that Lucifer face at me!”

He raised a brow and you felt the surge of arousal pulse through your entire body. “Would you prefer if I hid that face...” His knee hit the bed and you gasped. “...between these…” Two thick hands pushed up over your inner thighs. “...beautiful…” He squeezed the soft flesh at the crook of each leg. “...juicy…” His lips bent to kiss your left thigh. “...delicious…” He bit down on your right, making you squeal through clenched teeth. “...legs.”

Your eyes rolled as Misha blew a hot stream of air across your freshly shaved pussy lips. Your hips rolled up to meet his mouth as he planted a kiss above your clit.

“Oh, fuck…”

Misha lifted his face once last time to give you a proper Casifer smirk; eyes wild with lust. “Try to keep it down.”

Before you could draw your next breath, his tongue fluttered against your clit. Your eyes slammed shut and your mouth opened wide; a silent scream barely held back as he worked his way into your slick cunt with two warm fingers.

“We don’t want to draw too much attention, do we?”

Outside, the world was much the same as it ever was. The crew passed by, shuffling wardrobes, carrying props, bringing coffees to wherever they were needed. No one was any the wiser as Misha tore you apart, taking his time to meticulously and deliberately break you down until the only thing in your head was his name and a bright flash of light behind your closed eyes as you came.

When the wave receded, so did Misha, slowly standing up and dipping his head into the bathroom to grab a towel. He leaned against the wall and wiped your wetness from his face as you squirmed in the afterglow, desperate to roll over and cuddle yourself to sleep.

“See? You should trust me more,” he said, tossing the towel into the sink.

Panting, you turned your eyes to him. “I trust you,” you said, still in a daze. You tugged at your cuffs again, almost forgetting they were there, trying to reach for him. “Come fuck me, please.”

Misha laughed at your begging and shook his head. “Nah.”

“Nah?” you pouted, lifting your chin to him as he came closer. “Why not?”

His hand found your cheek and you nuzzled into his hand. He bent down close, nose almost brushing yours as he whispered, “because I’m not done with you yet.”

Another wave of nerves washed over you and your arms jerked involuntarily. “What?”

“I’m not done yet,” he said again, kissing the tip of your nose before disappearing.

You twisted to watch him walk the perimeter of the bed, headed for the dresser by the door. “Misha! Come on, uncuff me please.” You tried to bend your knees, but you were drawn too perfectly across the bed, open and at his mercy. “Misha…”

“Shh…” He turned partially, just enough to show you the finger he held to his lips as he hushed you. “If you’re too loud, everyone will hear you. This isn’t exactly secluded.”

“Afraid someone will come in and find that you’ve kidnapped your costar?” It was a joke, but your voice was tight with worry.

You saw a hint of a smug smile before he turned away, opening the middle drawer of the dresser and pulling out a coil of white rope.

“What the fuck, dude?” Your heart raced as he turned. “You can’t actually kidnap me!”

He laughed. “Relax.” From the same drawer, he pulled a long, black wand with a thick, round head. “Besides, you came to me, begging, whispering in my ear for days. ‘Misha, cuff me!’, ‘I want you to tie me up!’, ‘Do it, baby!’,” he mocked your begging with another quick laugh. “I don’t think it’s kidnapping if you knocked on my door and laid yourself out for me.”

He had you there. Hell, he had you wherever he wanted, however he wanted; that was the point, and he knew it.

“Damn it.” You growled, but the annoyance was short lived once you realized what he was about to do.

Misha quickly came back to the side of the bed and began wrapping the soft rope around your belly and thigh, creating quite a tangled mess. It was loose enough not to leave a mark or hurt you, but tight enough to hold the vibrating massager at the very tip of your clit. Even before he turned it on, your body was pulsing with arousal, anticipating the blissful torture he was about to enact.

“Now, you just hold still,” he teased, knowing full well that you weren’t going anywhere. “And try not to scream.”

“Mish-”

Your breath caught as he flipped on the vibrator and backed away, leaving you alone with the wand and the cuffs.

“Wait!”

He turned out the lights and closed the door as he left, taking one last quick look at his squirming captive.

“Be back later, sweetness.” He blew a kiss and you bit your tongue, trying not to scream.

There was a strange comfort in being left alone in the dark. You didn’t have to hide the crazy faces you were making as the vibrator sent pulses through your entire body. Didn’t have to pretend not to struggle as shock waves caused your legs and arms to jerk against the cuffs. Didn’t have to try so hard to hold your tongue.

You cursed Misha in the most blasphemous and delicious ways as you came, shouting his name into the pillow as best you could. It was hard to turn yourself totally against the cushion, but you aimed the scream well enough.

Clit throbbing and sensitive, you tried to catch your breath, believing he’d be right back to free you. He was probably standing just outside the bedroom door, listening like a deviant to your moans and thrashing.

Realization set in as your cunt began to tighten up again. Misha wasn’t outside the door. He wasn’t coming back any time soon.

“Misha!”

It’s funny how time can stretch. Minutes can seem like days, hours like seconds; it all depends on your perspective and what that time is doing to you.

By your third forced orgasm, you couldn’t tell a second from a week. It could have been five minutes since Misha had shut the door or four days. There was no way to tell. No way to move away from the constant stimulation. No way to slip the cuffs. No way to do anything but let your mind melt as the pleasure took over everything. Each time your pussy clenched, you cried out, needing more, needing to be filled up and fucked back into yourself.

“Please!”

Body tensing badly, you pulled your arms and legs tight, trying to sit up, turn, anything to move the vibrations away for just a moment.

“Misha!”

The doorknob turned slowly and you held your breath.

“Misha?”

A hand curled around the door as it opened. It was too dark to see clearly and your eyes were wet and blurry.

"Baby?" You whimpers were pathetic and strained, barely crossing the room.

"Hey, Y/N."

Jensen's voice filled your ears and you tugged at the cuffs, suddenly consumed with self-consciousness. You struggled to close your legs, but all you managed to do was move closer to the wand. He'd seen you naked before, been inside of you on a few drunken occasions, but this was wholly different. You were trapped, bound to the mercy of any one who walked in. It was humiliating and arousing and terribly frustrating, and you knew Misha had planned the entire thing.

"What are you doing here?" you whispered as he stepped inside and shut the door.

Jensen reached for the light. "A little buddy told me there was a treat waiting for me in here." He flipped the switch and you cringed, closing your eyes tight as your vision washed in bright white.

A whistle of interest pulled your eyes back open.

“Well, look at that. The little bastard was right. What a treat.”

You could feel his eyes eating your up, lingering on your soaked and throbbing pussy, your hard nipples, every single curve and bump of your flesh. Embarrassment closed your eyes again and you bit your lip as a particularly harsh jolt of pleasure hit your cunt.

“How many?” he asked gently, slipping up along side of the bed to look down on you.

“Huh?”

“How many times have you cum so far?”

“Oh.” Your brain was as mush and the constant clenching of your muscles was too distracting to let any cells reform. Numbers were hard. “Uh…”

Jensen smirked. “That many, huh?”

Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as his fingertips danced lightly up your thigh. “Fuck. Jensen...please.”

“What do you need?” His whisper was kind but deep, sending a shiver down your back.

Lips trembling, you tried to focus on your words, painfully shaping moans into English. “C-can’t...please.”

He lay his hand on the rope on your thigh. “You want me to take this off?” His smile was teasing and the pressure of his hand was frustrating.

“Yes! Please!”

As the rope loosened, the pressure on your clit subsided and you took a heavy breath, finally given a moment of relief. Green eyes were locked on your face as you sighed happily. “Thank you, Jensen. Fuck, he was gonna leave me here forever.”

Jensen clicked off the vibrator and tossed it onto the floor with the rope. “Nah, not forever…”

“You don’t know him,” you laughed. “He would.”

“Don’t I?”

There was something in his voice that scared you a bit, something dark and sensual that made your nipples harden. He took full advantage of the pop of flesh and rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Wh-what?” Your eyes fluttered shut as he tugged on your nipple, drawing out a fresh moan as a jolt of electricity hit your pussy.

“Don’t you think I know how he thinks?” Jensen asked, covering your breast with his big hand and squeezing. “Don’t you think I knew he had you back here, all wide open and half out of your head for me?” His fingers tickled down your belly and curled around, rubbing lightly against your pussy.

“For… for you?” It was almost too hard to think anymore and when Jensen pushed his thick middle finger deep inside you lost all comprehension. He buried his finger to the hilt and you clenched around him, so needy, so desperate for something to fill you up. “Fuck…”

“Oh, I knew,” he went on, ignoring your vacant eyes and blissful smile. You couldn’t hear him anymore but it didn’t matter, all that mattered was the slow scrape of his finger against your g spot. “I knew you were in here trying not to scream as he tortured orgasm after orgasm out of you.” He added his ring finger and the lights in your head went off. “I could have come rescue you any time.” He stilled his hand and your hips rose to take over, fucking yourself on his thick fingers. “But I wanted to wait until just the right moment. When you were so wrecked all you could do was lay back and beg, until you were just a puddle.” A flick of his wrist sent a scream up from the back of your throat and you bit your lip hard. “And here you are. Our little Puddle Girl.”

“P-puddle...please.”

His voice, the heat of him, the smell of his cologne, the slow churn of his fingers had all worked you to the point of no return, and he knew it.

“Please what?”

Your eyes were blurred but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Please...please fuck me. I… I need it.”

“I don’t know. You don’t look like you need it that badly.” He scooted closer and leaned over your thigh, pinning it to the mattress. “I think you can show me just how bad you want my cock.” His left hand fell to your pussy and you screamed fully as his hot fingers pressed against your clit. “That’s it, Puddle Girl...nice and loud for me.”

His rhythm was intense and your lungs barely had time to fill between moans. “But-but Misha said...to be quiet!”

Jensen rubbed harder on your overly sensitive clit and leaned closer; the Demon lurking in his gaze. “Misha’s not here. Now, scream!”

Your fingers twisted around the metal locking you to the bed, your body tensed, arms pulled, trying to get away from Jensen’s attentions, but it was pointless, you were just as trapped as before. Sweet pressure bloomed in your belly, expanding like a balloon ready to pop. You clenched your jaw and tried to hold back, but Jensen wouldn’t let you breathe.

“I want to hear it,” he growled. “You’re gonna wet this bed or you’re not gonna get what you want.”

Your heart raced. “I-I can’t!”

“Yes. You. Can.” He grit his teeth and his touch pulsed inside and against you.

“Fuck!”

“That’s it. Now!”

Your entire body pushed, letting go of everything in a hot flood of wetness that collect on the sheets between your legs. Jensen cheered you on as the stream flowed down his wrist; a slick, shining trophy to go home with.

“Good girl,” he soothed, easing up on his ministrations. “Very good. Made a nice big puddle for me.”

As his fingers disappeared, you gasped, moaning at the loss of his hands. As exhausted as you were, you needed more; he’d promised you something, and Jensen usually kept his promises.

While you languished, ankles twisting against the cuffs, the mattress bounced as Jensen stood. You heard the clink of his belt, the fall of his zipper. His jeans hit the floor and you held your breath as his heat returned, this time covering you completely.

Jensen propped himself up, hands astride your head, forcing your eyes up to his mischievous grin.

“You’re ready for me now, aren't cha?”

You could barely nod but gasped out an affirmative howl as the tip of his cock nudged at your swollen cunt. He teased you mercilessly, slipping just the head inside then quickly falling back. He rocked on his knees, thick thighs pushing his body up and down against you. It was horrible and magical and your face contorted into pained and dazed expressions.

“Jensen...please…” It felt like your last breath, like you would expire on the spot if he didn’t give you what you needed.

Thankfully, he did.

One swift snap of his hips and he was deep inside; your entire body tensing up as he filled you. Your eyes rolled and your jaw dropped, breathless and blissed out at the fullness of him.

“What a good girl,” he praised, thrusting gently but never fully leaving your cunt. “Such a beautiful little fuckpuppet. Just waiting all day to be used and abused.” He dropped his lips to your breast and sucked your nipple between his teeth, biting down hard.

The pain shot through your body and made you cum again.

Jensen growled deeply as you clenched around his cock. “That’s it...what a good slut.” His rhythm was put off, staggering as your muscles milked him hard; hours of being left empty and needy paying off- at least for him.

He pulled out at the last moment and you felt the warmth of his release spread across your skin. Jensen panted heavily as he came on your belly; green eyes glazing over as his body went slack.

“Thank you,” he whispered, scruffy cheek falling against yours. His lips were on your ear, his kisses sweet and warm. “That was hot.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied with a dazed smile. “Now, can you uncuff me, please?”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Misha stood in the doorway, leaning just as before, his arms crossed and his head cocked to the side.

Jensen gave your cheek a quick kiss before rolling away, pulling up his boxers as he went. “Thanks for the gift,” he said, nodding at Misha.

“Glad you enjoyed it.” A slick smile spread across thick, pink lips. “Happy birthday.”

A cramp in your leg pulled a whimper from you and blue eyes scanned your face.

“Hanging in there, sweetness?”

Your body bounced as Jensen got up. “Yeah,” you breathed, lying as your toes twisted painfully. “No. No. Please.”

There was a rustling commotion as Misha rushed to your side, nearly knocking Jensen on his ass as he sped to you. The right wrist was first; the metal opening easily for Misha’s key. Your arm fell to the mattress, limp and relieved.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing the redness on your wrist.

“My foot, please.” Your second toe was so bent you were sure it was about to snap off. The cramp shot in a straight line right up to your backside, and no amount of wiggling could relieve it.

“Shit.”

You were uncuffed quickly and Misha pulled up the blanket around you, rolling you into a shivering, exhausted burrito.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he sang, sitting on the bed to pull you close to him. “Are you alright?”

Propped on his chest, you could see him clearly; handsome face close and concerned. “I’m good,” you said with a sigh, closing your eyes against his heartbeat. “Just a cramp.”

He hugged you close and nodded to Jensen who waved his goodbye, sneaking away to give you both some alone time.

“Did you at least enjoy yourself?” His kiss landed on your eyelid and you laughed.

“Of course I did. Always wanted you to string me up and use me.”

Misha picked up the tail end of your laugh, smiling brightly. “I’m well aware.”

“Did not expect Jensen, however.” The haze of satisfaction filled your eyes and you smiled lazily. “That was a nice surprise.”

“I told you to trust me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You pushed your chin up to reach his lips, giving up the last bit of your energy for a kiss. “Love you, Misha.”

He kissed you back slowly, smiling as your eyes closed and your body relaxed as you fell asleep. “Love you too, Y/N.”

2020 Forever Tags:

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[kingofdirtandnothing]

@polyfacetious big ass Christmas Drabble Extravagaza: Day Three

“Alright handsome, show me what you got.” 

Tony posts up against the back door to the restaurant, arms crossed over his chest. The morning air has a nip of coolness to it, but the heat of the day would be right on its heels. Before long, the sun would be beating down on this place, and the kitchen would end up another twenty degrees hotter than even the humid streets outside.

 His apron, where it hung looped around his waist and tied into double knots at his hip, was crisp and white. It was a brand new day and the fresh linens had been dropped off by the dry cleaners before dawn. The thing would look like he’d been mud wrestling pigs and losing by the time they sent out the last dish from the kitchen tonight, but it felt good to start out fresh and clean. 

There was something hopeful about starting the day with fresh, clean linens. It felt like a promise of things to come. That no matter what happened, the day could go either way. It was a toss up. Tony liked having that kind of optimism on tap. He couldn’t come up with it at home a lot. Depression had a nasty habit of hanging heavy on his shoulders when he wasn’t caught up in his work.

The other thing that made the dawn of a new day optimistic? Fresh seafood. Right from the coast. It made all the difference in his dishes. Tony wouldn’t even work directly with the fish market. It was too far, too much time spent on ice. 

That’s why he had Jack. A “local” fisherman who would bring his catch right to Tony’s back door every morning. 

“Now now, Anthony. You know I only offer my wares to the most polite and upstanding of citizens.” Jack Sparrow had a voice like whiskey. Smooth on the first listen, but something about it warmed you from the inside and burned a little too, in the best way possible. 

It might also be possible that Tony was pining a little bit for his fishmonger. But he didn’t think too hard about that. He’s worked too hard to get Maria’s built up into a destination. It took eight years to get the place up and running. Another two were spent tweaking the menu to get them awarded a Michelin star. 

To say this restaurant was his baby was the understatement of the century. Tony had an emotionally distant childhood followed by tumultuous twenties and two divorces to show for his troubles. No kids though, thank God. He wasn’t the type of man who would ever be good with kids. 

That’s why Maria’s was his one and only baby. And why the seafood being perfect and fresh was the most important part of the menu. Which meant no letting his shower thoughts of the handsome, charming fishmonger get the better of him. Failed relationships were a dime a dozen. Good oysters were hard to find.

And sure enough, Jack is shaking a container full of fresh oysters in front of him, a five gallon bucket nearly half full of the things, clanging together like stones. Tony had to give it to the guy, he knew his audience. “Straight from the sea’s bosom to your plate, mate.” There’s a glint of gold when Jack smiles. It always derails Tony’s train of thought. 

“You know I’ll take them.” Tony waves the oysters over and then hefts the bucket back up onto the step behind him, like he’s worried Jack might change his mind and try to take them back. The oysters and caviar were the most popular things on his menu. It didn’t matter what was seasonally available, it didn’t matter if the sun was baking the cobblestones or the cool breezes of winter were catching in the corridor and sneaking under collars to cause chills. People always wanted their oysters and caviar. 

“What about some tuna? You got any of that?” Jack runs his hands down the front of his jacket, patting his pockets playfully. It was an old joke between them. While fresh tuna was always a big seller, it required a bigger boat than Jack had. It was probably for the best that Tony didn’t have the option to drop ten grand on Ahi tuna in a day. He was an impulse buyer. 

Which was probably one of the reasons Jack came to him first every morning. Tony was always at the mercy of his whims, and Jack always managed to bring him something unique when he was feeling stymied or bored. 

And he was. Tony needed his next great adventure. 

“Fresh out. But I do have something that’ll get your motor running.” Jack reaches behind him and hefts a large styrofoam cooler onto the step in front of him. “Go on. The anticipation is enough to set a man to salivating.” The rings on Jack’s fingers glint in the early morning light as he gestures like a woman on The Price is Right. 

Tony is just about ready to say something to him about it when he opens the cooler, and all the breath is knocked out of his lungs. “You didn’t.” Tony’s own dark eyes are wide eyed as he looks up. 

“I did in fact.” There’s no hiding the smug satisfaction in the way Jack holds himself, though Tony can see a hint of something beneath the surface. “That was all that was there to be had, my friend.” It sounds almost like an apology. 

But Tony isn’t looking for an apology right about now. He’s too busy trying not to whoop with joy so he doesn’t wake up the neighbors. He hops around the cooler, one foot on the first step, the second landing on the other before he careens into Jack, grabbing his face into his hands so he can plant a kiss on each one of his cheeks. 

“Sei un angelo mandato dal Cielo.” For one crazy second, Tony thinks about planting a kiss on those upturned lips in the space between the smacking smooch to one cheek and then the next. But he’s not risking their friendship. Or the chance for him to make this deal. 

“Name your price.” Tony will pay anything. Absolutely anything. He steps gingerly back over the cooler to stand back on the step of the restaurant again. Fourchu lobster was an incredible find, especially in waters like these. It was supposed to be the most luscious and delicious lobster that a person would ever eat. 

The Rolls Royce of Lobster. That’s what he’d read it was called in a gushing review he’d read in a magazine a few short months ago. 

That would make it expensive enough, but when you added in the fact that they were only able to be fished ten weeks out of the year, from May through July, that it made this delicacy even more of a commodity. 

Like hell Tony was going to pass up the opportunity to try these bad boys in his own kitchen. He was already making plans for what he was going to do with them. A little butter, a little lemon juice in the pan. With a taste as delicate as this, you didn’t want to do anything to overwhelm it. Tony could put a call in to a dairy farmer he knew out in the country. Fresh butter would make this even better. 

“Oy. You listening to me?” Tony jumps guiltily from his thoughts of fresh cream and butter, and smashed garlic potatoes to smile sheepishly at Jack. But what he sees when he makes eye contact with his friend is just amusement. “I said the going rate is twenty dollars a pound.” 

Tony spared a look down at the cooler, and the four lobsters scrabbling around inside, trying to gauge their weight by eyeballing alone. The lobsters were probably sitting around a pound and a half apiece. Which meant Tony was looking at about a hundred dollars alone, just for these four guys. 

It was a steal. “Done.” He holds out a hand to shake on it. This wouldn’t be enough to even think about putting it on the menu tonight. But honestly? Between the pats of butter and sweet cream dancing in his head? Tony wasn’t thinking about serving this to customers. 

Jack takes his hand, and after a firm shake, the touch lingers for a second or two before Jack slowly pulls his hand free. Tony finds himself trying to remember if a handshake has ever left him feeling so flustered before. 

“But I have a condition.” Tony holds up a single finger, and bites down on a laugh when Jack squints at him. Yeah, he knows. It’s cheating the system to add pieces to the deal after you already shook on it. But Tony was hoping these additions would be agreed to, easily enough. 

“Shady business deals you’re having today, Anthony.” But Jack was an incurable gossip, and Tony had learned in no time flat of knowing Jack that his curiosity would always get the best of him. So after a moment’s pause and another long squint, he relents. “Alright. Alright. You’ve got me on the hook, go on.”

“Dinner with me, tonight.” Tony gets the words out all in a rush, but it doesn’t do a damn thing for the way his heart is hammering in his chest. So Tony clarifies. “After the front of the house closes. Just you and me.” And he clarifies some more. “You went to all the trouble to find these guys for me. The least I can do is share them with you.”

And if Tony has any chance at all of winning over his jolly sailor bold here, then it was going to be with the Rolls Royce of lobster. This was going to be a menu fit for a king. Tony just wasn’t going to tell him that. Better to keep the pressure off, just in case he screwed something up between now and then. Better safe than sorry. 

“So what do you say? You head inside, drop off your invoice with Pep and get paid, and I’ll see you back here at...ten?” A late dinner, but that meant they’d have the kitchen all to themselves. The staff would already be cleared out for the night. Privacy was the name of the game. 

Tony takes a deep breath, and finally phrases it as the question it should have been from the start, before he talked himself into a pretzel note. 

“You, me and the best lobster in the world. Ten o’ clock. Sound good?”

Jack watches him, and Tony just knows that there’s something more going on behind those intelligent eyes. And he was dying to learn that language, to know what in the hell was going on in that bright, sea swept mind of his. 

Whatever time they spent together, it was always fleeting. Morning haggling over fish prices was the bulk of the time Tony got to spend with Jack. Sometimes, he got lucky and Jack would wander by the back door after the lunch rush, an alley cat looking for scraps. (Five was the one who started feeding him, now there was no getting rid of him.)

This would be at least an hour of uninterrupted time. With good wine and good food, and no risk of overbearing customers or fires in the kitchen, either of the literal or metaphorical sense. All Tony needed was for Jack to say the word. 

It takes everything he has not to squirm under Jack’s gaze. Tony was forty five years old, he wasn’t a teenager anymore, trying to get Carmella DiMarro to go to prom with him. He wasn’t going to get nervous over this. 

Or at least not visibly. 

After another few impossibly long beats of Tony’s heart, Jack comes to a conclusion, nodding and holding out his hand again for another shake to seal the deal. 

“Ten it is, then.”

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer III: Maternal Instinct

Major Spoilers: Chisei Spoilers for Level 103

Trigger Warning: Cruel imagery

The full force of Chisei's Soul Skill Majesty descended on the area. Only the King and the white winged child remained unaffected by the tenfold increase in gravitational pull.

His Dragon Words sent everyone else into a gasping heap on the ground as they struggled to remain conscious.

I stood behind Chisei who leaned out of the open helicopter door.

“You can still leave.” He shouted over the rotors.

“I will not.” My eyes shone golden, my dragon blood purity rising to still my fears and make myself more eager for a fight. I was not the young woman talking to him from before but the fearless Empress Hybrid. 

He turned his head. Using such a powerful Soul Skill turned his eyes that same golden color. It reminded me of my love, Johann Chu, and my heart stirred in my chest.

Chisei was stronger than Johann. I squeezed his shoulder and smiled.

Chisei leaped from the helicopter and I followed him, a bright lance appearing in my hand. The wind roared against my ear drums. The ground rushed up to me. My heart leaped in my chest and I felt a wild sort of joy. I braced myself for landing, the shock of it rattle through my knees and hips and spine. I rolled to my feet and sprinted toward the battle.

The heavily armored former priests sent a rain of cover fire that cut down the struggling Devil Clan members where they lay. They were sliding down ropes from the helicopter, brandishing their weapons.

 Chisei’s leap had forced him to lift the gravitational well. The Devil Clan survivors struggled under the rain of fire and the dizziness, still some mounted a desperate counter attack. A few unlucky ones were shot off the ropes and fell the rest of the way down from the helicopter. If the shot didn’t kill them the fall likely did. I threw myself against one of the gunmen, stabbing him through the chest. His scream rattled my ears.

With a flick of my arm, three more spears felled another man who had pointed his gun up at the helicopter. I called Ielia and the phantom dashed to the other end of the Red Well. She was like a bright white wolf among sheep. Their bullets flew right through her, shooting into their own comrades in their attempt to kill an ethereal ghost.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chisei charge the King, but the man simply tossed a baby in the air. I stood in confusion when the child opened massive wings to shield him from Chisei’s attack. My chest tightened.

For a few breathless seconds, I couldn't move. In the light of my dragon eyes, I recognized this child as truly my own, the child of an emperor hybrid man. My vision focused on its beautiful eyes, patterned, like a mandala. I knew those eyes. They were Ruri Kazama's eyes. 

Inside my mind, I begged Chisei not to attack it, even as he charged with twin blades. I wanted to tell him that this was no brave fighter. Couldn't he see he was crying?

I watched, frozen, as the child defended out of instinct, throwing out flaming tendrils to protect himself.  He flailed wildly, seeking to hit Chisei with all his strength. The tendrils whipped in unpredictable patterns, leaving craters in the ground with every desperate strike. Chisei was forced to back away or risk being cut in two.

One fiery vine arced upward and sliced a burning trail into the large helicopter hovering above. The pilot did not have time to get out and struggled to control the aircraft as it descended so as to avoid landing on his Patriarch. He slammed into the high stone walls surrounding the well. The fuselage rolled down the vertical surface and showered flaming debris on both the child and Chisei. 

Facing threats both above and in front, the child curled itself within his wings in defense. In doing so, he could no longer see. 

Maternal instinct finally impelled me. I ran toward the baby boy, my heart in my throat, hoping to take it away from this battlefield!

A sound above me. The rotor had broken loose from the wreckage and was dropping right between us! I barely avoided being crushed. In an instant, the air was full of glass and cutting bits of metal. 

My approach was blocked again, this time by Chisei himself. He passed in front of me, blades forward, eyes intent, clothing torn, body bloodied. 

The child was forced to open its white wings to escape the rain of metal and in that moment, Chisei threw the swords. They pierced the baby through its tiny body.

All the air rushed from my lungs. I must have screamed, but my voice was lost in the sound of crashing metal.

Chisei grabbed hold of me, threw to the ground, pinned me. A second later, the helicopter smashed on top of us, plunging us into darkness.

I should have been crushed. Instead, the wreckage had fallen around Chisei.

A fire swept through the wreckage. Silvery scales crawled across his skin in the crimson light. He was bearing the full weight of the helicopter with an unnatural surge of muscle. He halted the progression of the fire with his breathing, sucking bellows of air. 

"Please... Chisei... It's not his fault. Let me take him." I begged.

"Our blood is cursed. If we die here, the legacy of emperors ends. The world is a better place." He snarled, gasping under the weight of the helicopter, baring the sharpened teeth of a dragon.

"Don't give into... Despair, Chisei." His dripped blood left a burning trail down my face, mingling with my tears.

"It’s reality!" Crystalline claws stretched from his fingertips and dug into the red earth.

"Then I reject this reality!" I rolled over to face him. I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Release!"

I let my soul speech rise to meet the challenge of his runaway dragonblood, just like I had with Johann over the Bay of Bombay, just like I had with Ruri Kazama. Chisei had come to battle ready to throw everything away for victory. If his blood rose just one step higher, I would lose him forever to it.

A voice just outside. I couldn't hear what was being said, but the rhythm and tone told me it was the King.

Chisei's body heaved in a mighty shrug and he stood. I still clung to his neck and he brought me with him, lifting me clear off the ground. His hand thrust through the metal wreckage. Then he used his other fist to smash a hole through the helicopter in one hit.

Chisei walked from the wreckage with a silvery white body showing through his torn clothes. With one clawed hand, he grasped the King completely around the head.

Chisei lifted his own pair of bat-like wings from his back. The wounds created by their emergence healed closed before my eyes.

I rested my head against his cheek, whispering the draconic to keep his mind clear, and his soul intact. Chisei had gone Devil. In the depth of his personal darkness, he'd been tempted by the draw of power, like a moth drawn to the flame.

The King was screaming. "Dragon blood! You drank dragon bl-" 

Chisei's grip tightened.  The screams of the King cut off. The King's skull broke apart.  Chisei let the limp body of the King drop and left a crushed spurting mess on the ground.. He walked towards the child.

I looked over my shoulder. The child was still alive despite the heavy blades that impaled him. I turned back to the Devil Emperor, trying to meet his eyes. "Mercy! Mercy!" I struggled to pull his blood down to weaken him enough for him to listen. Blood Rage burned through my body in the effort. He wasn't going to listen.

My lips curled up to show my fangs. I let go of him, landed on my feet. I staggered back and sent an array of spears of light to impale him. They thrust from the ground into his body, crossing him like tentpoles, halting his steps. I didn't retract them but let them linger there, embedded.

Their heat cauterized and reopened the wounds in a cycle, making it impossible for him to heal. His claws reached down to grab them, but they burned his hands.

He snarled, trembling in pain, but his expression was like a stone wall as he looked at me. Gradually, the scales on his body retreated, the wings blackened and crumbled. I released the spears. Chisei fell to his knees.

I rushed to the child's side, one hand curling around the hilt of one sword. His white wings had withered, his eyes were shut. But he was breathing. Removing the blade might cause more pain! Leaving it in ... Would he die?

Sobbing bitterly, I apologized and withdrew one blade and then the other, pleading that his dragonblood be enough to heal, to live.

I cradled the baby in my arms in silence. The helicopter was burning and collapsing, but the Devil Clan and the soldiers had finished each other off in their battle.

I stood staggering towards the box that held the wriggling parasite. So long as that thing lived, my child would never have a secure future.

“Father...?” At this time, the only person I could think of was my own father who had spared my life for his own pleasure. “ I need to ask you one thing. How did you obliterate something from existence?”

“To applause.” I turned my head. The King was still alive. I staggered away from him, but didn’t get far. Chisei’s Spider Fang was in his hand,  and he’d run me through with it back to front. The steel felt cold. Then unbearably hot. The baby slipped from my grasp and he caught him.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch 20:Bent, But Not Yet Broken...

Summary: The team are still searching for Katie, but with little luck. Meanwhile, she’s at the mercy of Hydra...until help comes from a very unlikely place.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, bad language, beatings, smut (via flashbacks), mentions of rape and major angst. NSFW (NO UNDER 18s...)

Tag list is open- Send me an ask

Open for suggestions to one-shots as well

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist

 Katie awoke alone wherever she was. They had driven her from the place she was taken and they had driven for hours, right into the night, when she had been dragged out of the back of a van and shoved harshly into what looked like some kind of old factory, down a number of steps so she knew she was underground. They had offered her nothing, no food, or water and she’d simply curled up on the hard bed in the corner of the room and cried until she had fallen asleep.

She had no idea how long she had been there, no idea. There were no windows, just artificial light so she had no way of telling how long had passed by using the cycle of day and night. Eventually, the lock of the door clicked and she jumped to her feet as the door opened, and the large, burly man who reminded her of Rumlow stepped into her cell. Katie swallowed, but maintained her stance, her eyes locking onto his, jaw jutting up defiantly as he stepped towards her.

“My name is Jones, and I’m in charge of your interrogation.” he sneered.

Still she said nothing.

She was dragged to another room by this Jones, who sat in a chair opposite her with another agent, and asked what she knew about what SHIELD was up to, now it was under the control of Coulson. And then them targeting her made perfect sense, she was the only Avenger that knew he was alive (Ward had no idea she had told Steve) They informed her they knew she had to be working alongside him to track the Sceptre and Hydra, even though she hadn’t seen him for months. 

And once more, she said nothing.

If it wasn’t so serious Katie would have laughed at their stupidity. Dumb fuckers had no idea about anything. She hadn’t given the sceptre a second thought since the Chitauri fight in New York and she certainly didn’t know where it was, or that Coulson had been tracking it.

She continued to say nothing when they drilled her about what she knew as to the whereabouts of Bucky, the ‘Asset’ or ‘Soldat’ as they referred to him. At that point, she had looked directly at the idiot who had been asking the questions wondering if he was born this stupid or if he suffered some kind of brain injury later in life, because only an idiot could possibly think that if the Avengers knew where he was that they would let HYDRA get their hands on him again. Unable to hold it in anymore, she’d laughed and simply shook her head. 

They stuck pins under her nails for that one, but still she hadn’t broken. Although it fucking hurt, like nothing had hurt before. She’d been unable to stop the tears of pain falling down her cheeks, but she made no noise as she trembled through the ordeal. Instead she tried to remember her training, allowing her mind to focus out, concentrate on something else, something nice. Something safe...

“Miss Stark?" Jarvis inquired again. Katie gave an exasperated sigh. Her alarm hadn't gone off and it had been Steve that had awoken her half hour later than she wanted when his alarm went off. Now she was running, running way behind. She hadn't even had chance to do her make up. Thankfully, at Steve's insistence she had packed the night before. "Yes J?" "Mr. Stark has informed me that he's begun to slowly pour out your coffee. If you don't hurry, there won't be any left." She rolled her eyes, shoved her make up punch in the bag she was taking with her- plenty of time to do it on the way. The flight would be a few hours. She grabbed her bag, headed into the hallway and Steve walked out of the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. "I gotta go baby I'm sooo late." She sighed "Tony will be having a fit." Steve chuckled and quickly scanned her up and down.

“Nice suit.”

She glanced down at her black pinstriped jacket, trousers and a simple light blue button down.

“You making funna me?” she teased.

He shook his head “Not at all. You’re gorgeous as ever.” “Charmer.” she grinned as he leaned down to give her a quick kiss before she turned on her heels. "Love you." She tossed over her shoulder. "You too" he smiled "See you later."

She clung to that memory. The last time she had seen Steve. His soft kiss, his hair wet from his shower, that grey Underarmour shirt clinging to his form. And eventually when they realised that there was nothing she was going to say, they stopped and returned her to her cell leaving her alone once more.

Katie wasn’t stupid enough not to understand that there was an element of revenge in all of this too. Revenge on her, and Steve, at the fact they had been a key part of bringing Hydra to the broken, shattered organisation it now was. And as she sat there alone, nursing her sore fingers, she could do nothing but wish they had killed every, last one of the fuckers.

As time ticked by they interrogations continued. She had her fingernails dug up with pins, she was water-boarded, strangled to the point of passing out, and it was always the same. They’d push her, she’d continue to fight, and then then they would stop. They’d leave her for another stretch of time in that room, feeding her whatever meagre morsels they decided upon, deliberately weakening her system, and would come at her again.

But, the thing with being in Solitary confinement is that you have a lot of time to think. And think she did, whilst she nursed her various injuries. As such Katie had a pretty good idea now why they were so bothered about Coulson and SHIELD tracking the sceptre. There had been records of it in any of the files dumped on the internet when they had released SHIELD and Hydra’s secrets to the world but she suspected it was in Hydra’s possession and had been from the start, taken by Sitwell and STRIKE from the tower once they had defeated Loki. She further surmised, that it had been taken to the specialist department, STATION just like the rest of the Chitauri shit that they had recovered. Which meant that Strucker must have it.

And then one day, they swiftly changed tact.

“All you need to do is tell me what the Avengers and SHIELD are planning next and you’ll be free to go.” Jones said, looking at her as she stood in her cell.

Katie snorted, because really? Did they think she was that stupid? She knew he was full of shit, he had no intention of releasing her. Even if she did or could cooperate, she’d be dead when they had what then needed. At least this way, whilst they thought she knew something, they would keep her alive. And the longer she was alive, the more chance the team had of finding her

Her snort earned her a sharp punch to the face which caused her to tall to the floor, where she received a harsh kick in the ribs, leaving her winded before he turned on his heels and left. Groaning, she pulled herself up over to her bed and lay on her side, wiping at the blood and tears on her aface.

More time went by, and then she was pulled back out and dragged to the familiar, clinically white room they like to ‘interrogate her in’. This time they threatened to go back and find Tony, Steve, the rest of her friends and family, and kill them all. But this time she didn’t snort, she full on laughed, because the thought of them trying to get into the tower and meeting Earth's Mightiest Heroes was hilarious. And the laughter just wouldn’t stop.

That was until she got a back hander across the face and another punch in the ribs.

But the next time they try something else, they almost break her. Almost.

They came for her in her cell and first off they took her rings. They’d already taken her necklace and her bracelet but they’d left these with her for some reason. But now, they wanted them. First off they went for the sparkling diamond on her left hand. She should just have let them have it, but she couldn’t. It’s her’s, it’s her ‘big, fuck off Tiffany diamond’, her princess cut engagement ring that she had always dreamed of. So she tried to fight, and screamed when she felt and heard her fingers snap when Jones stamped on her hand. When they went for the emerald on her right hand, she was too caught up with the pain in her left to fight for that one. This time they were the ones laughing at her, laughing at her pain as she held her bust hand close and choked on deep sobs.

And then, despite all that, Jones did something far more humiliating, degrading by forcing himself on her. And she put up as good a fight as she could considering the state her hand was in, but someone else grabbed her painful fingers and pinned her arms above her head, sniggering, calling her a “SHIELD slut…” The pain of him inside her was excruciating, but as she opened her mouth to scream at him, she looked in his face and knew that was what the bastard wanted. Well fuck you, she thought, you might be able to take me physically, but you can’t have my mind. 

So instead she turned her head to the side and screwed her eyes shut. Trying to block it all out.

When he had finished his grunting and smashing into her, he passed her over to the man who has been pinning her arms above her head but by now she was emotionally dead. When he finished, she lay still for a moment before she heard footsteps and Jones crouched down besides her, holding her diamond ring between his thumb and fingers.

“You know…” he leered at her as she backed away, grabbing at her trousers and shakily pulling them up as she rose from the ground “I bet this is worth a bob or two. You’d think that giving you a rock like that would mean he cares but where is he, huh? The Star Spangled Man doesn’t seem to have a plan at the moment.”

And then, despite the pain, despite the fact he has just violated her, she laughed again because, you know ‘Star Spangled Man with a Plan…’ and those ridiculous videos and that spandex…

In hindsight it probably wasn’t the brightest thing to do. Jones snapped and he unloaded on her, again, only this time it was savage. He lost his temper, and she would normally be slightly proud but she had no time to be as she was pushed into walls, punched, kicked, stomped on. She tried to fight back, and normally she would and could put up a decent battle against anyone, she’s an Avenger, but being weak from lack of decent food, lack of sleep, and the various injuries she’s already sustained meant it was futile. And then the other one joined in. As they punched and kicked away she could hear faint voice echoing in her ringing ears, a brush of a thumb across her cheek, the warmth of a palm against her face.

“God I love you, Doll…” Steve looks down at her as he lies over her gently, both of them slightly breathless, sheets tangled around her legs.

She staggered to her feet and then her nose was smashed by a fist. Once more she was transported to another place, a mission, from way before her and Steve started dating, one where she caught an elbow to the face by some dickhead who had taken a Diplomat’s daughter hostage…

"It's broken," she says, matter of factly, as her Captain’s hand gently reaches up, thumb and forefinger carefully tilting her head so he can see .

He gives her a pained smile. "Yeah, looks like." whilst he gently hands her an ice pack before standing up, and dropping a hand to the top of her head.

Katie was tossed around that room like Loki was by the Hulk. Oh wouldn’t it be great if Banner appeared now, Hulked out and ripped the place apart. Or Thor, lighting all these fuckers up. Or Widow for that matter, delivering them one of those delectable shocks. Or Clint, placing arrows between their eyes. Or Tony dispatching of them with whatever weapon he chooses. Or Steve, using his shield to break their bones and faces…

But no one came.

Jones glanced down at her "This is your own fault.” he said, as his boot swiftly collided with her midriff one last time. “One way or another, I will get something out of you. Maybe you’ll speak when we take you up to see a couple of my special friends… they’re good at making people comply.”

And they left her, a bleeding, battered mess on the floor.

Eventually she mustered the strength to crawl to the bed at the side of the room, hauling herself up onto the bare mattress. - they’d taken every little bit of comfort from her including the blankets and her warmer outer clothing and shoes leaving her merely in her blouse and her trousers, both filthy and covered in blood. 

Everything hurt. Everywhere. Physically and mentally. And she was tired. From lack of sleep. The lights were kept on blindingly light all the time and she was craving the darkness of her bedroom in the tower.

How long was it since she’d been in her own bed? Certainly longer than days but was it weeks? Months? One second of time simply melted into the next in this place. The sobs wracked her painful chest as she let out the first word she had spoken since she had arrived, God knows how long ago, a single gasp of his name.

“Stevie…”

******

“Errr, do you have an appointment!”  Katie grinned as Steve walked into her office, shutting the door behind him.

“Do I need one?” he asked she turned round from where she had been stood looking in a filing cabinet.

 “Distractions always need an appointment.” “Is that what I am?” he pouted.

“When you come in here dressed like that, yes.” she said, pointing up and down taking in his jeans and grey top “That T-shirt is ridiculously tight, and your ass looks great in those jeans.

"It’s all yours, baby.” He grinned, hands sliding to her hips as hers slid up round his neck. “Can you spare your distraction enough time for lunch?” Katie let out a groan “I can’t, I’ve got a working lunch today as we’re looking over a proposal we got in from another publishers. I could probably grab a coffee though, I got like 20 minutes.”

 “20 minutes?” Steve asked, arching an eyebrow and Katie immediately grinned as his eyes dropped to her lips.

“What are you suggesting Captain Bad Ass?” “Nothing” he said, innocently. Before he smirked “Does the door lock?”

 “J…” Katie spoke, not taking her eyes of his “Do me a favour and lock down my office for half an hour, full black-out.” “Certainly Miss Stark.”

The door locks clicked, the blinds into the main office area closed, and Katie looked up to check the CCTV cameras were also down too. “That doesn’t make it sound proof though, just so you know…” she said.

Steve smirked and then kissed her hard, pulling her to him, one hand on her back the other tangled in her hair before he reached down, sliding his hands up and under her skirt sliding the grey material up over her thighs.

“I’m not gonna lie…”he murmured, lifting her up onto the desk so she was sat in front of him “Seeing you in these office skirts and tops… its kinda hot.”

She smirked into his kiss as she tugged at the material of his t-shirt until he raised his arms so she could pull it up, over his head and off. She was groping his bare chest as he pressed against her, rubbing her spot with his still covered crotch. She moaned at the rough denim of his jeans pushing against her, the thin barrier of her underwear doing nothing to stop the sensation.

"Tease." she growled into his mouth before reaching down to unbuckle his pants and Steve grinned before sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth when she reached in and grasped him in her hand. His hands started opening the buttons of her blouse  then once they were open he gently reached into the cups of her bra, pulling her breasts out, dipping his head down to suck at one of her nipples, his hand drifting back downwards to tug at her underwear. She moaned and shifted so he could pull them down her legs.

As he followed them down, dropping to his knees, he took an ankle into his hand pulling her foot up.

"These stay on." He instructed referring to her heels and she nodded biting her lip as he threw her leg over his shoulder exposing her completely.  She grappled for grip on the sleek, wooden desk, settling for one hand curling round the edge, the other finding its place back in his hair as he gave one long perfect lick, listening to her soft groans. He worked her with his mouth and her head tipped back, a constant stream of soft moans escaping her lips. He drove her right to the edge, his mouth and tongue knew how to play her perfectly now, and when he could tell she was close he rose gracefully and gently pushed her back, wrapping her legs round his waist so he was supporting her hips with his, and he pushed into her in one easy thrust.

“Jesus…” he  shuddered, as he bent over to gently kiss her, his hands on her hips as he continued to thrust in and out. Fuck, this was hot. Papers, pens, staplers went flying off  the desk as he pushed harder and harder, his name tumbling from her lips, “Stevie…” pure pleasure and ecstasy, and lust,and desire. 

“Stevie!” This time his name was a shout, filled with terror, and fear, and pain, and it vibrated through him, painfully.

With his own yell, Steve sat bolt upright, before falling off the couch with a crash. Shaking his head, taking a deep breath he blinked his tired eyes and the room in front of him came slowly into focus. His eyes fell on a picture of the two of them in a frame sitting on one of the shelves by the TV. Both of them smiling as they stood in jackets, scarves and hats in the snow in Central Park, arms round one another. There are more of them together, and with their friends and family. Tearing his eyes away he looked around and spotted the pair of her shoes that had been kicked off by the door the last time she had walked through it, some 4 weeks ago, shoes that he couldn’t bring himself to move.

How the fuck had he fallen asleep? He jumped suddenly and looks frantically around him for his phone, it was in his pocket. There could be news, someone may have called, but he knows deep down that’s not true. They had no leads, every single but of intel they had had led them to nothing but dead ends. But he looked at it anyway and saw nothing. Nothing but her eyes and her smile peering back at him from the photo on his lock screen, along with the time and date, a reminder of just how long she’s been gone.

Steve took a deep breath and when he exhaled it came out in a deep, pitiful sob.

"I'm sorry," he cried, his breath and voice catching as he curled up, leaning back against the sofa, his arms hugging his knees to his chest “I’m sorry, so sorry sweetheart, we’re trying, I’m trying, I’m so sorry…”

******

Steve couldn’t decide if time was moving too slow or too fast. The weeks without her were flashing by his eyes but the days and the nights felt like they lasted forever. He couldn’t understand how it was only 3 in the afternoon, mind you, having said that, the days and nights all blurred into one. He wasn’t sleeping properly after all. His nightmares were frequent, only now it wasn’t the ice or Bucky he saw. It was her, crying, screaming for help and him not being able to do anything about it.

Pouring himself what felt like his 17th coffee of the day he turned to see Sam walking into the room. Steve nodded to him.

 “Cap, I know this isn’t top of your priority list but…” Sam turned to check they were alone before he carried on “I had a call today from one of my contacts. They have a potential sighing of Ol’ Frosty.” Despite himself Steve picks up, interested “Where.”

"Canadian Border, Montana. Mean anything?"

Steve shook his head “Is there a Hydra base nearby?”

“Not that we know of. I can take a look?” Steve nodded. “Thanks Sam.”

Sam took a deep breath. The man looked utterly broken, but he wasn’t surprised. Katie had been gone for 5 weeks and they had nothing. They were now taking a deep dive into old intel, the information they had recovered from the bases they had raided and re-raided. She wasn’t at any of them, but then they hadn’t expected her to be. Hydra were too smart for that

 The pair of them wheeled round when suddenly Clint appeared in the door way “Cap… Coulson is here, says he has news.”

��Thanks.” Steve said,

Oh he had news alright. The location of another Hydra base that no one knew about, one they had dug up on the seemingly never ending search for that fucking sceptre. It was a small military outpost just outside of Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. Coulson had dispatched a team to do some recon, and they had spoken to locals who had informed them that the base had been empty with no one seen or heard entering for years.

“Until 5 weeks ago.” Coulson said, looking around at them from his seat at the table “According to a man out walking his dog, an SUV came straight down the road and into the gates, locking them behind him. A load of men in suits climbed out, so he assumed they were government. Since then Mr Dog Walker has seen armed guards on the gate each day. So they brought something there, we just don't know what,"

“5 weeks…” Natasha breathed out “That’s too much of a coincidence!”

“Yeah, so I had my team sweep the base immediately…” Coulson sighed, as he looked around the room “There was no one there, but they did find evidence that Katie was there at some point.”

 Steve turned his head away and stood up sharply, walking to the edge of the room, looking out into the hallway.

“What kind of evidence?” Tony asked, his voice cracking.

Coulson hesitated before he pushed the plastic bag across the table and Steve walked back as Tony tipped the contents out onto the table.

Her StarkPhone, in 2 pieces, clearly done to avoid them tracing her, the Captain America shield design that Tony had engraved on the back for a joke blinked in the light like it was mocking them. Her diamond star pendant that Steve bought  her for Christmas and the bracelet he had brought her for her birthday, clasps broken on both as if they had been ripped off. But it was the flash of yellow, green and silver and diamond that made Steve’s heart stop. Her rings. Bright platinum and yellow gold. Sparkling diamond, deep green emerald.

There’s no way she would have given those up without a fight...

Tony pushed himself away from the table, a sob catching in his throat whilst Steve reached out to gently pick up his girl’s rings. He could hardly make them out now, the tears in his own eyes blurred his vision. He closed his palm around them, and walked out of the room, but not before he gave a loud, angry yet broken cry and his fist punched straight through the re-enforced glass in one of the windows that looked out into the corridor. 

He headed up to the roof, he’d been coming here a lot recently. Good way to get some peace, away from everything. Except he was never away, because she was with him, in his head, every damned movement he made.  He glanced across the skyline, his eyes falling on Central Park. The leaves on some of the trees already a bright mixture of reds, golds and oranges. Fall was his favourite time of year, he loved the colours. It was an artist’s dream. Not Katie’s though. Oh no.

“She hates this time of year.” Steve said simply as he looked out over the New York Skyline, not turning to look at Tony as he drew up besides him.

“Everything dies and it’s a bit shit.” Tony mumbled, sticking his hands in his pockets as he uttered the words Katie uses to describe Autumn. Steve knew what he was saying, but the pair of them couldn’t help but inhale at the sentiments of the word.

"Sorry… “ Tony sighed, “I just…" he trailed off, shrugging.

Steve shrugged also as he turned to look at the man besides him, lips curling into a despondent sort of smile. "I know…"

The two men stood in silence before a short, despairing chuckle burst from Steve . "You know, this time last year she made a pie," he shook his head "I was teasing her about being miserable it was Autumn and she said the only thing decent about it is you can make apple pie. And I told her she was ridiculous, as surely apple pie can be made any time of year…” “That’s my mom” Tony said, smiling and he gave a small huff of laughter “Mom always used to make pies autumn through winter but never any other time of year…”

“I didn’t even wait for it to cool.” Steve chuckled. “As soon as it came out of the oven there was a scoop of ice cream on it and I was digging in. She stabbed me with a fork”

Tony snorted “Sounds about right.”

“It was the best fucking apple pie I’ve eaten.” Steve said, sniffing. “Damned it..” his voice cracked “ I’d give anything to have her here to make another…”

Tony glanced up at the soldier, the tears evident in his eyes.

“Katie told me she thinks you’re the strongest person she's ever known," he breathed out. “Learning to live and start again in a world that has continually done nothing but beat you down… “

“I don’t feel strong now.” Steve whispered, turning to face Tony.

“You have to be.” Tony said “We all do, that’s the only way we’re gonna find her.” Even in the dim light, through his own tears, Tony could see the grief on Steve’s face. There was utter desperation and sadness in his blue eyes, the tears now shining as they fell down his cheeks. The Captain released a long, shuddering breath before wiping at his face stating simply, "I don't know how to be strong without her Tony.”

“She makes me better too.” Tony said, his own eyes now spilling with tears, “And for that reason alone we have to find her. And we have to bring her home.” his eyes turn back to the city which is now starting to light up as the sun begins to dips behind the horizon “And then she can make a damned pie.”

*****

He parked the truck at the end of the long drive, hiding it between two trees and then climbed out, the smells, the sounds of the wind, everything was familiar, but it was clear, sharp, as if he wasn’t experiencing it all through a veil of fog.

This was the last place on his list. He had by no way, shape or form eliminated everyone that had been involved in his programming, but he’d taken the main ones he remembered. And there was one left. A Doctor. A Doctor that had been sadistic. A Doctor that had been sadistic and enjoyed what he did, experimenting on him, on others. He wasn’t sure if he had been the type of person to seek revenge before they had done this to him and he didn’t really care either, and besides, it wasn’t just revenge...it was closure. After this one was dead, that was it. He was going to lay low, try and make sense of these whirring memories that came back to him in a jumble. Sometimes he could make sense of them, and some of them were stronger than others, like the ones of him in the war. He could remember the missions mainly. And then some of them from before were hazier, a short, skinny, sickly blond haired boy. Punk…

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” He knew the boy was Steve. Captain America leader of the Commandos. He remembered Steve but he didn’t feel that he knew him. But he understood that he should, the display at the Smithsonian had told him that.

Best friends since childhood.

The longer he stayed out of Hydra’s grasp the more his mind was his own, and it was only a matter of time, he hoped, till he did remember. But until then, he needed to slip away. Be a ghost story once more.

One more…

Picking the gun up off the passenger seat he zipped up his jacket and made his way towards the facility, making sure he kept to the cover of the expanse of forest and open green space that surrounded it. Of course it would be in the fuck end of nowhere. No one to hear the screams. He easily dispatched the guards at the gate, and the 4 that then rush out to greet him are no match for him. That’s one upside to this entire situation, he can fight. And fight better than he ever could

“Pick on someone your own size…”  he swiftly boots the guy right up the ass and down the alley.

“You know, sometimes I think you like getting punched.” he looks at the small, blonde man standing up, dusting himself off.

“I had him on the ropes.” By the time he made his way inside he can hear the alarm going, and he smirked to himself slightly. Like it matters. Anyone who tried to stop him was dealt with, anyone who simply ran away, well he wasn’t here for them. They could go. He navigated the clinical corridor easily, by memory or instinct he doesn’t know but he eventually found the room. Something stopped him for a second, and a rush of vivid and loud memories flashed in front of his eyes.

“Soldat!” the voice is loud, almost a bark. “Hold out your arm.” He holds out his metal arm.

“The other one.” He does as he is told, and grits his teeth as the scalpel slices into him and they cut a chunk of his flesh away.

“Take that to my lab.” the voice says “I want to run some tests on his healing qualities, isolate the properties…keep him here, I can study his recover too…” With blood dripping down his arm, they take him back to his room, his cell at the other end of the facility, without even giving him a bandage.

With a low growl he kicked the door open and the man in the chair looked up at him, his eyes growing wide in fear.

“Soldat-”

The Doctor was cut off when a large boot kicked him hard in the chest, causing him to topple over backwards, the chair crashing to the floor. In one stride he was over him, gun levelled at his head.

“My name is Bucky.” he said, and he discharged his gun straight between the fucker’s eyes.

It’s done. It’s finished.

Turning on his heels he walked out of the room and aimed a punch to the man that launched at him from the right, sending him down easily. He then saw the flash of a gun as it went off, easily dodging the shot. He turned and fired one of his own, straight into the bastard’s knee cap and he collapsed. His path was now clear and he was about to leave, but then he heard it.

A jumbled scream of names, but it was the tone that set his nerves on edge. It was broken, the scream of someone desperate, someone that wasn’t here of their own accord. It was heart-wrenching, pitiful…and it was female

He turned and headed towards it.

*****

Katie can’t remember when she last ate, it was certainly before they moved her here to this new place anyway. She didn’t trust them not to poison her, so at some point she stopped eating completely. She still refused to talk, and seeing as she knew they wanted her to scream, to shout in pain, to verify that what they are doing to her hurt, she also learned to stop crying out.

They wanted her to break. They continued to violate her, seemingly visiting her to get their fill whenever the ‘mood’ took them, but she held tight, tight to her memories, thoughts, trust in her fiancé, brother, her Avengers family to find her, tight to her desperate hope, and above all else, tight to that Stark pig-headed stubbornness. She will NOT break. She will not give these fuckers anything. And if that means she dies, so be it.

As she lay on her bed, weak, her stomach churning from the bruises and hunger, there was a shrill noise in her ears, probably from the beating she took yesterday, but the more she tried to focus, the louder it became. And then she heard voices, yells.

The sound of gunfire made her sit up, fast, a little too fast and she cried out in pain as her body protested to the movement, but now she understood, the shrill noise was an alarm.

“He’s in the main lab…” she heard someone yelling.

And then Jones’ voice replied, he was getting closer as he spoke, she could tell “I’ll get the bitch, we need to move”.

Someone was here, and whoever it was wasn’t Hydra. And Katie let out a sob. It was them, it had to be, they’d come for her.

 The door to her cell flung open and Jones ran in to grab her arm.

“Time to go…” As he grabbed her arm and dragged her off the bed she screamed. As loud as she could. She screamed for Steve, then Tony, then Thor, Natasha, Clint…her voice cracking and croaky from lack of use, yelling the first words she’d spoken in his presence since they’d taken her.

She wasn’t staying quiet this time, not now rescue was so close by.

“Oh, now you talk…” Jones said, giving her a quick slap which left her dazed but as he dragged her to the door he stopped dead halfway across the room. Katie looked up, struggling to focus and she could just make out a tall figure, blocking the way. For a moment she thought it was Steve, but then she realised he wasn’t tall enough. And the way he held himself was all wrong. Then she noticed his hair, and as he strode into the cell, murderous intent oozing from every part of his body, her eyes started to focus and she saw his face from under the peak of his cap, that haunted stare she remembered from the riverbank.

“Bucky…” her voice was nothing but a whisper.

Bucky tilted his head, surveying her, but he didn’t acknowledge her. Instead, his eyes moved to Jones, and they suddenly lit with a furious fire and he stepped forward again.

Jones pushed Katie hard towards him. She fell again, and Bucky gently caught her, setting her quickly to one side as he grabbed Jones who was making a break for it towards the door. He gripped the man in his metal left arm, which was covered by a black leather jacket and glove, round the throat and squeezed, hard. The man’s bones and sinew and tissue crunched and squashed in his grip and he fell limp.

I don't like men hitting women, you fucker. 

Bucky tossed Jones to the floor and Katie tried to push herself up from where she had fallen with her hands, but it hurt so much. Her broken one gave way and she lurched forward, bracing herself for the impact as she was about to fall flat on her face but the blow never came. Instead, a strong arm wrapped around her from behind and she was gently pulled back into a sitting position, as she fought to keep her sobs and cries under control. She looked up, following Bucky’s movement as he crouched down in front of her. She looked up at him, and managed a small smile.

“Thank you Bucky.” 

Bucky swallowed, she knew him? How? How did she know who he really was?He continued to look into her eyes, green and dull, sunken into a face that is spattered with bruises, died blood, cuts and angry red marks and then he recognised her, from that day on the river bank. 

The day he dragged Captain America, Steve, out of the Potomac.

“I’m Katie. Steve’s Girlfriend. You know Steve, right?”

What Hydra were doing with Steve’s girlfriend in this god-forsaken shithole he had no idea. But he also knew that he couldn’t leave her here.

“Can you stand?” he asked softly.

“I don’t know…” she choked out, her voice croaky. He decided it would be easier, and kinder to carry her. Removing his jacket and placing it round her shoulders, because it was cold outside and all she was wearing was a dirty blouse and trousers, no shoes or socks. He gently placed his metal arm round her back and his right under her knees, lifting her effortlessly up into his arms. She let out a small sob and a cry of pain as the movement jostled her slightly.

“Sorry.” he said gruffly, as she placed her arms round his neck for support and leaned into his warmth, the first kind and friendly touch she had felt in so damned long. Instinctively, she buried her face into his chest as he carried her, unable to believe that she was finally safe.

It wasn’t Steve, but at the moment she would have taken anyone.

Quickly Bucky made his way back through the base, up a short flight of stairs she had absolutely no recollection of coming down when she was brought here, and they emerged into the fresh air. The wind hit her face and stung her cheeks and she pressed her face harder into his chest, whimpering at the assault on her senses. Eventually, when she felt she had gotten control of herself she gently moved, ignoring the pain, to have a look around. The leaves on the trees around them were now sporting orange leaves, some having shed a few already.

It had been the 1st of September when she had been taken.

“Do you know the date?” she throatily asked as Bucky carried her gently but quickly towards a truck which was parked haphazardly in between 3 of the trees in a clearing set back from the road. How fucking long had they had her?

“10th October.” he replied

She gave another little sob as she did the maths in her head “6 weeks. 6 fucking weeks.”

“Try 70 years sweetheart” Bucky mumbled back, and his sarcasm made her snort a little laugh, and she instantly winced at the pain in her chest.

He gently helped her into the truck, laying her across her across the back seats, before he jumped in the driver’s side and gave a quick look around before he set off.

Katie pulled the jacket tighter around her and gave another loud sob, then the tears started, and she couldn’t stop.

“You’re safe.” Bucky said, casting a glance over his shoulder. “I won’t hurt you.” “I know.” He looked at her again, as she lay down, before she started to cough. Tilting onto her side, she tried to stop herself as it was painful, fire shooting across her stomach, up her side, her ribs…her hand…everything.  

“You need a hospital.” he said.

“No.” she shook her head

“You need medical attention”

“I can…”she took a deep breath, fighting the pain “Home. I’ll be safer with Steve and my brother.” Steve. Bucky swallowed thickly. “Where’s home?” he asked.

“Manhattan.” “I can’t go to Manhattan” he said, shaking his head.

“Yes you can.” she grimaced “Steve…he’ll help.” “I can’t go to Manhattan” he repeated. She didn’t respond and when he glanced back he saw she’d passed out, or was sleeping, he doesn’t know. He took a deep breath and for a split second toyed with ignoring her request and driving her to the nearest ER, but he understood her fear only too well. If Hydra took her, there’s a chance they’ll come back for her and she was right. Steve could keep her safe.

So he drove into the nearest Police Station, parked the truck outside leaving the engine and the heaters running, to keep her warm and with his baseball cap pulled as far down over his face, grabbed his rucksack. He hid behind a dumpster, not far away, keeping the car in sight. It didn’t take long until someone came out of the police station and walked over to the vehicle to investigate. Bucky saw the man peer inside before he gave a yell, and yanked open the back door. Bucky took a deep breath, and with one last look over his shoulder he headed off into the cold October wind.

******

“Miss…” a voice was stirring Katie. It was a soft voice, not the harsh one she was used to dealing with. And she was warm, she could smell leather. A bit like Steve’s jacket, but not, because it didn’t smell like him… blinking she saw someone leaning over her and she instinctively tried to back up, but she hit something metal. Taking a moment she realised she was in a car. And then she remembered Bucky. Bucky had killed Jones and freed her. 

“Where…” she began and the large man spoke softly

“You’re in La Ronge…at the local police station.” he said, gently.

She glanced up, wary. “How do I know you’re not Hydra…” “Hydra?” he frowned and she took in his appearance. He was in a uniform, and he was flanked by other officers in a uniform.

“We’ve called an ambulance…” he began. “No!” she immediately yelled “I need to go home…” “Ma’am…” “No. Hospital.” she growled, trying to sit up. “It isn’t safe. I need…” she took a deep breath “Can you call home, my fiancé, my brother, anyone…” “Where’s home ma’am.” “Avengers Tower.” she said, taking a deep breath. The man’s eyes grew wide as he looked at her, “You’re…oh my God, you’re Katie Stark…”

She nodded.

He leaned back out to one of the other officers and said something before leaning back into the car.

“There’s been a lot of people looking for you Miss Stark.” he said kindly “We’ll get someone on to your Brother right away. In the mean-time, we need to get you inside.”

She nodded and pushed herself up, gritting her teeth, trying to fight how much pain she was in. With a bit of a struggle and help she managed to shuffle herself out of the car. She steadied herself against it, whilst the officer looked at her and then gently moved towards her. Instinctively she shrunk back and he held his hands up.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I just thought you might need a hand walking.”

She did need a hand. After scrutinizing him for another second, she nodded and he gently scooped her up, causing her to hiss, and he took her inside. She was gently carried through the back of the station and into a warm, gently lit medical room of some sorts where she was set down on a soft medical bench.

“No hospital” she said again, feeling her eyes going droopy again.

“I promise.” the man nodded. “But we do have an on duty medic…maybe she could clean you up a little, and we can find you some clothes.” That sounded ok, and she nodded again, before the blackness took her once more

******

Steve couldn't run. Not properly. He needed to be in the tower just in case. Not to mention the barrage of press camped on the doorstep since he had relented  and told  Tony to go public a few days back.  And he hated the treadmill, seemed pointless, if he was running he actually wanted to get somewhere. So instead he took his frustration out on the punch bag. Every blow he landed was one for the fuckers that had taken his girl. He lost count of how many of the things he tore open but thankfully there seemed to be an endless supply, and someone to clear up the mess he left afterwards. Including the blood on the floor from his split knuckle as he had stopped bandaging his hands. The pain was twistedly comforting, something to actually feel when the rest of him was numb. "Trouble sleeping?"

He turned and saw her leaning in the doorway, wearing a pair of tight lycra leggings and a crop top that finished halfway down her perfect midriff and a cheeky grin as she took a drag from the water bottle in her hand.

He gave a laugh, as he caught the punch bag.

"At half 4 in the afternoon?" He quipped back as she crossed the room towards him. He noticed her skin was gleaming with sweat "you been training?"

"Sparring with Nat... she was an absolute bitch" Katie said, taking a drink from her water bottle "she needs to get laid then she might stop taking it out on me."

"Or maybe you need to learn to punch better" he teased.

"Can you get divorced before you get married?" she said through narrowed eyes making him laugh. "I can punch just fine thanks"

"Show me whatcha got then" he nodded towards the punch bag. Taking another drink from her bottle she tossed it aside and shoved him in the chest, making him laugh again, stepping back as she passed. He watched as she took up her stance, feet slightly apart, arms raised, and she gave the bag a sharp jab with her right and it swung back away from her.

"Not bad..." he grinned, moving towards her. ”But if you tilt your hips..." his hands fell to her waist and he moved her slightly "this way... legs slightly further..." he used his feet to nudge hers "this way and arms..." both his hands wrapped round her wrists, the light catching her ring on her left hand "little less high..." he used his arms to guide hers and swung and the bag sending it flying.

She dropped her arms and brought them around her front, taking his with them. "Admit it..." she said, her voice husky "my stance was fine you just wanted to touch me."

"You have a very high opinion of yourself, or a very low opinion of me." He said, his body stooping so his chin rest in her shoulder.

"No, I just know you too well Captain Sex Fiend..." she said, turning her head to face him, her lips brushing his.

He'd pushed her backwards, and took her hard and fast against the wooden clad walls of the gym, bodies slick and working together the way they always did. Her hands were in his hair, clawing at his back and it had left them both far more flushed than any other physical exercise ever did.... With one final punch as the memory faded Steve gave a cry of anger, frustration, grief, he had no idea what he was feeling, maybe all 3, but he knocked the damn thing straight off the chain anyway. "Captain Rogers..." JARVIS suddenly spoke. "Yeah." He responded, his voice croaky from unshed tears. "Mr Stark has asked that you meet him immediately in the hanger. There has been a development regarding Miss Stark" Steve didn't respond, he grabbed his dark, red hoody and sprinted out of the door.

“She’s been found.” Tony said, wheeling round to look at him as he ran up the ramp to the jet, not waiting for him to speak. “In the back of a stolen car that was abandoned outside a station in La Ronge."

“Is she…” he choked out, and Tony gave a small smile and a sniff.

“She’s alive. But she’s not in great shape, and she’s refusing to go to hospital, told them to call us instead."

Steve’s hands flying up to cover his face and they slid into his hair as he dropped into the seat behind Tony, the relief washing all over his body. Tony began to flip the switches, firing up the jet, at the same time as Bruce walked on board.

“We got something?” He looked at the two men.

 “Yeah..” Tony said “Some police station in La Ronge called. They have her, but she’s…she’s not in a good way so we need…” He gestured to Bruce and pointed to one of the seats.

Bruce let out a deep breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. “That’s great…that’s she’s been found…”

“Jarvis, you got that flight plan?” Tony asked.

 “Yes Sir, you are expected at the air field, some 15 miles from the station. The Sergeant who called will meet you there. ETA 3pm”

 Tony turned to Steve as the jet began to rise, the soldier was looking down at his hands, breathing deeply. He was a jumble of emotions, relief she was ok, worried about what state she was in, angry at who had done this to her. He was jerked out of his thoughts by Tony who gently clamped him on the shoulder.

 Blue eyes met dark brown, both shimmering with tears. “Let’s go get our girl” Tony said, smiling softly.

  Tags

 @the-omni-princess​

@momobaby227​​​​

@thewackywriter​​​​​          

@geekofmanythings16​

[sweeetmonstrosity]

Run, Baby, Run!

Summary:  In which you learn it’s better to flee some wars rather than stay and fight.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader,

Warnings: None? Maybe one or two curse words.

Square(s) Filled: (SSB) Food Play

Word Count: 2074

Link: AO3

A/N: This here is for @teamcap4bucky 2k Writing Challenge – (I’m so sorry it’s late! I thought I had it completed but forgot it was supposed to be a reader insert and not two characters! and then i saved it to drafts on here instead of posting!) prompt is in bold – and fills a square for my @star-spangled-bingo card! As always, any feedback is appreciated. xx

It was family dinner night. The night you all try to have at least once every two weeks; it was mandatory to show up and there was to be no talk of avenging anything or anyone. It was a night to relax and just be with family without all the competitiveness of game night. Tonight, Tony and Pepper had decided it would be taco night and had hired caterers to bring the food and set up the table. The only thing you guys had to do was show up, make your own tacos and eat your food.

But nothing is ever that easy for the Avengers.

Eating dinner with everyone went amazing. You all got to catch up with Clint and Scott’s families, and Sharon was back in town for a while, so she came over and talked about her new job position with the CIA. It was an overall good family dinner.

During dinner, you were sitting between your boyfriend Steve and your adopted big brother Bucky when you knew it wouldn’t be a nice family dinner for much longer. That feeling got confirmed multiple times throughout eating as Steve and Bucky kept leaning over your head or whispering behind your back to each other about their “plan” and what needed to happen  for it to go perfectly. They never said what exactly was going to happen, and their list on what needed to happen were all vague. So, whenever their plan came to  fruition, you would find out with the rest of the team.

After dinner, you, Hope and Cassie went into the kitchen to fix up the dessert trays for the adults and Cassie was helping make the kids tray. It was when you sent Cassie and Hope back out to sit down and you were getting ready to walk back out into the dining room when Steve came slinking into the room and pulled you into his chest.

He places a kiss on the top of your head and murmurs softly into your hair, “sweetheart, remember that with everything that is about to happen, we sleep in the same bed. So, choose wisely.” You barely had time to process what he said before he was slinking back out into the dining room. “That was weird,” you whispered to yourself, “Oh well. I’ll find out soon enough what he’s talking about.” Shrugging your shoulders, you picked up the two trays and walked out into complete normality.

Nothing was different from when you left to ready the trays, conversations were still flowing, there wasn’t any surprise guests or animals. After you put the trays down and headed back to your seat, both Steve and Bucky winked at you and then continued with their debate with Sam.

Sitting quietly trying to figure out what exactly Steve could be talking about, you were pulled into a conversation with Clint and Tasha about baby names.

“Come on, Nat. Clintara would be an instant classic!” Clint squawked out with a mouthful of pie.

Natasha shook her head and narrowed her eyes at him, “I want my child to continue speaking to me once she learns her name, Clinton.”

“Clintique?” He chirped out then changed direction when you laughed and tossed the fork away from Tasha’s hand, “Ok, Ok, or hear me out: Clintasha.”

Everyone at the table got extremely quiet at Natasha’s deep sigh, and you noticed Steve and Bucky had moved closer together and had bigger plates filled to the brim with all kinds of desserts. You frowned at them but focused on Tasha because she started doing something she doesn’t often do.

“Aha...ahahahahaha... No.”

“What do you mean “no” Nat? You’re telling me if you had a little girl you wouldn’t name her Clintasha or something!? It’s not fair since Nathaniel was named in honor of you!” Clint cried out as he flailed his arms around.

Tasha smirked because his voice would get high-pitched in the middle of his argument. “Clint. No. I’m not naming any of my kids those names. If, and it’s a very big if here Clint – if I decided to honor our friendship like you did with me, I will name them Clint. Not something that is our named smashed together.”

Clint nodded his head and sported a gleeful smile when, suddenly, he was hit in the face with chocolate pudding.

In the 3 seconds after, it felt like time had frozen. You immediately knew the pudding came from the super soldier duo standing off to the side, and that their plates meant more was to come. In those same three seconds after the pudding made contact with Clint’s face was when you figured out what Steve meant earlier. You had to pick his side or he would get revenge on you when you went to bed. As Clint wiped off the pudding and stood up is when time unfroze.

“FOOD FIGHT!” Being yelled out by both Sam and Scott is when all hell broke loose.

Food had begun flying over your head and all around you while you sat in your safe little bubble. You weren’t going to get involved in your boyfriend’s prank war he and Sam had going on, unless it was absolutely necessary. And as of right now, it was not impertinent to join in on the ‘fun’.

You had taken your time to finish eating watching Clint nail Pietro (and occasionally Steve) repeatedly with everything he could get his hands on, Sam and Bucky would work together for one person then immediately go back to covering each other with desserts. The food fight went on for a good thirty minutes before Pepper walked in and shut it all down. Mumbling how everyone there is a child and that she didn’t sign up to be a parent of twenty adult children.

You thought you had gotten out clean. Scott-free of any pieces of dinner or any dessert foods, you were proud of yourself for not getting involved. But when you were taking what was left of the pies back into the kitchen, you ran into Bucky...literally.  And you had somehow managed to get the pie right in his face.

That was the first time you were scared to look into the super soldier’s eyes because you knew there was going to be a sliver of betrayal amidst the challenge look.

It was so sudden and shocking that even your boyfriend Steve had dropped his bottle of water when the pie connected with Bucky’s face. “Bucky, pal. Why don’t you come help me clean throw out the trash?” Steve called out carefully, trying to divert his best friends attention from you. You waited to see if Bucky would react to hearing Steve’s voice but he didn’t move an inch - he didn’t even blink.

You knew if Steve couldn’t get his attention, Bucky wasn’t going to go anywhere before he dealt with you. So, you did what you have always done best – you escalated things to the point of no return. The point of no mercy. Instead of pulling the pie away from his face and handing him the towel on your shoulder, you decided to smash the pie farther into his face, spinning it so all the pie was used as much as possible. Then, after you pulled the pie pan away from his face, you grabbed a cherry from a different pie and stuck it on his forehead.

Steve snorted but tried to cover it up with a cough as he kept nodding his head towards the door – but, you couldn’t make things easier on yourself now. You were already here, with an angry super soldier so, why stop now? Trying to be serious, you began using your stern voice, “Aw, Steve, look at him. He’s as sweet as pie.” You couldn’t help but laugh loudly and the look he was giving you only made you laugh more.

Bucky still hadn’t moved since the pie first touched his face and you knew you had to act fast before he got moving again.

Grabbing the last pie off the counter, you pull your phone out of your pocket and wait for the right moment. Bucky slightly shifts into a better ‘pose’ and that’s when you strike. Without a second thought, you smash it on top of his head and snap three pictures in quick succession – that's when you see Bucky take a deep breath and flex his fingers.

You glance behind him to see Steve with the bowl holding the rest of the pudding and suddenly, that too is on Bucky’s head and your boyfriend has darted past you – running down the hallway.

Once he got far enough, he stopped and turned to yell back at you “Run, baby, run! The pudding was his last strike!” Not having time to question Steve on why he helped you decorate his best friend in desserts, you took off after him, laughing like crazy once you heard the sounds of footsteps behind you.

As you got closer, he called out, “By the way, sweetheart. If we make it out of this alive, will you go on a date with me?”

You raised a brow at him, “You want to go on a date tonight, Grant?”

“Ah, I'm kind of busy at the moment, and it looks as this will take a while. How about tomorrow?” he breathed out.

You laughed loudly and sent him a smile right before he glanced down the hallway to the right.  You decided to play his little game and sped past him calling out, “On your left, Captain, and yes. If you make it out alive, I will go on a date with you.” He caught up with you in an instant and pushed your head down to dodge the vase that was being thrown at it and then grabbed your hand to help you move faster. “Fantastic,” he whispered, “now, we just have to lose Bucky somewhere..”

Once the case shattered and you realized your brother had thrown a vase at your head, and boy were you mad.

“Bucky! What the hell are you thinking throwing vases around the house!? Are you out of your mind!?” You stopped running  to turn around and yell at him.

Steve turned around and grabbed your hand pulling you along as you kept yelling back at a snarling Bucky with his revenge glint in his eyes. “Sweetheart,” Steve murmurs in your ear as he places his hand over your mouth, “You can scold Bucky later about throwing vases around. Right now, we need to get away from him before he starts a more aggressive food fight with whole watermelons being thrown around.” You sullenly nod your head, agreeing,  but keep hold of his hand as you start running on your own.

You and your boyfriend weaved your way through the Avengers scattered through the compound – letting them become collateral damage – to help distract Bucky enough so you could hide properly. Tony had happened to step in Bucky’s path and rather than mowing his crush over, Bucky almost came to a complete stop beside Tony before blurting out his confession and then he was back in pursuit.

When you glanced back over your shoulder, you saw Tony – with a frown on his face – storming after Bucky. Deciding it was going to be worth whatever revenge your adopted big brother brought upon you, you shouted over your shoulder, “Hey, Tony! Good luck on your date tonight!”

That is how you found yourself covered in the rest of the desserts, courtesy of the newly formed couple of Tony and Bucky. Not that it bothered your boyfriend any. He was enjoying licking the sweets off you. And to be honest, you were enjoying it too.    

As he was ´cleaning´ a spot off your neck, you murmured out, “Don't think I'm going to forget about the date you asked me on, Stevie. I'm going to hold you to it.” Steve let out a low chuckle and placed his lips right above yours, “Good. I was planning on you holding me to it, sweetheart. You'll be blown away with what I have in mind. Now, let’s go take a shower and get all this food off you before I eat you.”

That was the night you discovered your boyfriend of a year, loved food to be involved in all aspects of your relationship.

[blue-and-dog]

Sengoku Basara OC Writings 2

Note: Okay, so these are all writings I put together featuring my very old Sengoku Basara OCs. Kinda embarrassed to post them on a public forum, so please have mercy.

Botched Assassination (Mototsuna VS Motochika)

[[MORE]]

“It’s a baby.”

“Very astute observation, Mototsuna. You have quite the keen eye.”

Aiou Mototsuna sighed, crossing his arms as he went over his half-brother’s orders. “You want me to kill the heir to the Chosokabe clan...who is, at this point, a child.”

“Yes; you were a child at one point, too, and look at what an obnoxious eyesore you turned into.” Mori Motonari turned his back to go over a map at his desk, expression unchanging; behind him, Mototsuna blew some hair out of his face in a deflated sigh. “The fact of the matter is that Chosokabe Motochika now has a blood heir, and that threatens both my son and my approaching second child.”

“That reminds me,” Mototsuna tipped his head. “How’s the lady of the castle feel about this?”

Motonari’s eyes narrowed a bit. “Ayane doesn’t need to worry herself with such matters—and I certainly hope you will not involve her unnecessarily. That would be unfortunate. But you are dodging the matter at hand—I’m giving you an order to assassinate the child. And I expect you to carry it out.”

“Yes, yes, I’m on it...I’ll head for Shikoku right away.”
”Dismissed.”
”Tch.” Mototsuna scoffed, exiting the room and making his way down the hall. Truth be told, he had overheard an earlier conversation between the lord and lady of the castle and, as expected, Motonari had silenced his wife’s pleas with his own cold reality.

But enough pity.

Now for the matter of the target.... Mototsuna thought to himself as he began his journey, Or rather...the matter of what hazards to avoid.

The kid’s young enough that he’ll always have someone with him; most likely that’ll be his mommy dearest. Nanahime’s not that big a threat unless I were to get up close...which won’t be an issue at all. Checking his rather intricate crossbow, he aimed down the scope—actually a very small spyglass—at an invisible target for a moment.

As for the matter of the dad...that’s an absolute Do Not Engage. If he catches even the slightest hint of me being there, I have to make a break for it; there’s no chance in hell I’d survive any kind of encounter with him.

Stowing the crossbow, he took to the trees, swinging and jumping from branch to branch in the darkness. Snipe, then get the hell out. That’s the Aiou Mototsuna style.

He arrived in Shikoku the following morning, making himself at home in the treetops where the soil met the sand, peering through a spyglass out of his hiding spot to seek out his target. Might be too early to have the kid out and about, but at least I can establish where the rest of the family is.

His spyglass darted to Chosokabe manor as the front door slid open and Yoko darted out, making a beeline for the shore. There’s the bastard child. Damn, she’s fast.

Moments later, the Ogre of the Western Sea was sprinting after her. Aaaaand there he is. He watched the two of them leap into the water, with an amused grin. Least that means Chosokabe’s separated from the target. Speaking of...

Nana stepped out the front door, holding an obscured bundle in both arms, grinning and shaking her head as she saw Motochika pick up and toss Yoko in the water.

There.

Nana was shouting something toward the pair, but was too far for Mototsuna to make out the words. A pirate approached her to speak to her, and she turned to face him, shifting the bundle to one arm.

Now or never. The crossbow was out, and Mototsuna gazed down the scope at the bundle. He exhaled slowly.

And fired.

“Oi, Jogen, could you do me a favor—“ Nana was cut off as the bolt pierced the top of the bundle, passing through it and jabbing her in the arm; she let out an alarmed yelp, dropping the bundle as she dropped to her knees. Her cry prompted her husband and daughter to immediately stop and look to her.

“Anego—!” Jogen dropped beside her to check her, as the bundle unraveled...

...revealing a large fish that had been wrapped in paper, now skewered through the head. That *was* going to be breakfast.

“....” Mototsuna lowered his scope, a look of bewilderment across his face. That...was not what he expected. “....what the fuck.”

His momentary shock was jostled even further as Jogen was heard shouting, “SNIPER!”

Mototsuna immediately began to flee the scene, sliding along sturdy branches and swinging from those above him. He wasn’t even sure exactly which direction he was going; all he knew was that he had a limited window of opportunity to get as far as he could—

**CR-R-R-ACK!**

An anchor on a chain smashed through several trees behind him, before being jerked upward to return to its owner. Mototsuna felt the color drain from his face.

I’m dead.

The anchor shot past him, hooking onto a branch and beginning to retract, pulling its owner along, as a knee slammed into Mototsuna’s back and sent him hurtling through branches and slamming into the ground. Coughing and groaning, he began to prop himself up, turning to face the Ogre of the Western Sea leering down at him, anchor over his shoulder and hand in his pocket.

“Oi....I’m givin’ you one chance to explain why you fired at my mermaid, yeah? And it better be a damn good one.”

Mototsuna panted and grunted as he managed to stand up, grabbing his crossbow off his back.

There was no way he was getting out of here without a fight.

“To be fair...I wasn’t aiming for her. I thought she was holding something else.”

Motochika didn’t answer. But his good eye began to widen, as the realization dawned on him. He grit his teeth.

“Damn you...”

He raised the anchor. “DAMN YOU!”

Motostuna’s hands crackled with lightning, his crossbow opening up.

Hopefully, amidst the incoming chaos, he’d find a chance to flee...

[reignmyworld]

Kiss from a Rose SongFic - Roman Reigns x Reader

Summary: You and Roman used to be roommates and close friends during your college times. When an accident destroys his dream of becoming a famous football player, you are by his side, trying your best to help him through his depression and melancholy. You hoped that he would find a new meaning in his life, making it worth living, which he eventually did - a meaning, that caught you by surprise.

Warnings: College AU, hurt, comfort, fluff

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Reader

Note: Nonny, I’m so sorry that it took so long to write this songfic. Should you still read this blog, I hope that you like it and that it meets your expectations somehow. :-)

Request: “Can u do a songfic based on the song kiss from a rose by Seal? 😱❤️❤️??” by anonymous

Seal - Kiss from a rose

Tag List: @queenofthearchitect @trixdeee @calwitch @alexisbagans143 @the-queens-reign @mermaid-at-heart @taryndibiase @kingslayers-reign @scuzmunkie @vebner37 @nikora3010 @aria725 @ashhdaniellee95 @roman-hetfield @lustyromantic @i-dont-care-i-ship-it-69

There used to be a graying tower alone on the sea.

You became the light on the dark side of me. Love remained a drug that’s the high and not the pill. But did you know, that when it snows, My eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen.

*Years ago in college*

He couldn’t believe that this had happened to him, couldn’t believe that one tiny mistake could have such a severe impact on his life, his future, his passion and yet it did. One tiny moment of not paying attention… well not exactly. Rather one tiny moment of misjudgment. One moment of guessing the next move of the other team’s player wrong. One moment, that changed his life for him. Roman was sitting on his bed, still trying to process what the doctor had been telling him a few days before he had been released from the hospital . He was throwing his football from his left hand to his right and back, repeating it several times while he once again relived that terrible moment in his life, that ended his career.

It was during one of the most important games of the last semester, basically the whole college was there to watch it. Roman had been beyond hyped, knowing that they were all grasping for the victory, they wanted to celebrate at the end of this game.  The clock was ticking down, there were just a few seconds left to decide the game and he was well aware how important his role was, how much everyone counted on him, counted on him to lead his team to victory. He knew that those few seconds could also decide about his future, his career as there was a rather important talent scout in the audience, that could have opened a door for him in the major league, making it possible for him to play for his favorite team. Seconds, that he needed to make it possible for his teammate to do the final touchdown. But in the end it would have been seconds that marked the last time before his career would have been over before it actually started.

He knew that the player from the opposite team didn’t want to hurt him on purpose, didn’t want to harm him in any way and he knew quite well how tough of a sport football could be, that you weren’t allowed to show any mercy while you were out there trying to win that game. Knew it, as he had been in a position quite some time before where he wasn’t supposed to show any mercy either. And yet he would have never expected that he would have to face such a fatal fate. When his opponent crashed into him, he didn’t realize what was going on at first, shrugging it of as a normal tackle, that sent him to the floor. But it only took him seconds to realize that it was not only that, seconds for the pain to explode like a firework. He crashed down on the floor, realizing only then that the painful yell was escaping his own lips.

The next thing he realized was the terrible angle his knee was located in. Everything in him screamed that it didn’t look right and yet it took him a moment until his brain was able to process the words that his inner voice screamed at him. It was that moment that it hit him with full force, that moment he realized that he must have broken his kneecap. The pain was almost unbearable and it was only his determined will, that stopped him from passing out immediately. The voice screaming in pain seemed to be so distant and yet he knew that it was his own. Everything afterwards was kind of blurred and he only knew from stories he was told, what had happened.

He had been carried from the field in order to be rushed to the hospital. The game ended after a few minutes, that everyone needed to move on from the shock, in the other team’s favor, all while Roman was brought to the emergency for surgery, the surgeons doing their best to repair the damage, doing their best to somehow repair his kneecap, so he would be able to play again. And at first they were pretty positive, that he could return one day, that he could play again although it would take months, even years of therapy. But they were wrong. He somehow knew it in advance, somehow was certain of that the moment he awoke after the surgery and his parents, that were by his side, told him what had happened. But he wanted to believe that the doctors were right, wanted to believe that he could return to the football field one day and follow his passion. Believed contrary to his own gut feeling. And now…

Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the gray. Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah. And now that your rose is in bloom. A light hits the gloom on the gray. There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say. You remain, my power, my pleasure, my pain, Baby, to me you’re like a growing addiction that I can’t deny. Won’t you tell me is that healthy, baby? But did you know, that when it snows, My eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen.

Well now he was sitting in his room, the pain in his knee still omnipresent and the football he was holding in his hands was the only thing, that was left behind from his former life. Although the doctors were certain, that he would heal completely, they nevertheless had to inform him that they were wrong, that their predictions were far from being accurate. The breakage in his kneecap was more severe than they would have guessed in the first place, the healing process taking longer than expected and a few days before he got released from hospital he was told the news, that he feared most. That he wouldn’t be able to play football ever again. In that moment part of his world shattered, knowing that the life he knew up until now was over the way it used to be. And to make it even worse, he was informed that the talent scout wanted to offer him a contract, wanted to sign him even before he saw him on the field that day. That, of course, was before his knee cap shattered and his career was over before it actually started.

And now Roman was sitting on his bed in that little college apartment, he had rented, staring at the wall or at the ceiling for a change and pitying himself, not knowing what he should do with his life now, knowing that its initial purpose was gone, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to do anymore what he loved doing. He had no idea how often he had been breaking down until this day, how many tears he had shed while he was alone in his room at the hospital, how many tantrums he had thrown back in his room, cursing his knee, himself and the player, that crashed into him, although he knew that he didn’t do it on purpose but that it was a stupid accident, that could have happened to anyone.

Knowing all of this didn’t make it better, however. „Fuck it.“, he screamed as he tossed the football in his hands against the wall with all of the force he could bring up in that moment, the ball smashing against it with a loud thud. Just moments later he could hear a careful knocking, followed by your voice as you wanted to know: „You’re alright, Ro?“ He took a deep breath, answering: „Yeah I’m alright.“

„Do you mind if I come in?“

„No, it’s okay.“

You carefully opened the door, stepping into his room, that usually was cleaned up all the time but right now it couldn’t have been any messier and you couldn’t really blame him. It pained you seeing your roommate and one of your closest friends if not your best one like that. He was sitting on his bed, his damaged leg resting on a pile of pillows while he was staring at the wall, that spotted a huge hole. When your eyes shifted over to it, you saw the football lying at the floor in front of it and you didn’t need to be a visionary to know what must have happened.

Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the gray. Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah Now that your rose is in bloom. A light hits the gloom on the gray. I’ve been kissed by a rose on the gray, I’ve been kissed by a rose on the gray, …And if I should fall along the way I’ve been kissed by a rose …been kissed by a rose on the gray.

Roman and yourself got to know each other on your first day of college, him being one of the first people to talk to you. You were still grateful, that he had started a conversation with you as you were rather scared that day. Everything kind of overwhelmed you and since your friends all headed to different colleges you were pretty alone that day. You weren’t having full anxiety attacks in the past, but being there that day among all of those people, that you didn’t know, with places you had no idea where to head to, well, you felt kind of lost. And back then you were pretty sure that you would have a hard time getting used to that new life here. It was not that you didn’t trust yourself that you could do it. It was simply the unknown future, that scared you, knowing that you had to start anew with all kinds of friendships and talking to people was nothing, that was too hard for you but you didn’t necessarily love it other.

When Roman started a conversation with you that day, basically being in the same position as you were with being all by himself, you at least got to know one person rather fast although you were aware, that he probably had no problem with gaining a circle of friends within a short time. Fast forwarded you wouldn’t have thought at first that you got along so great in the end, that you even decided to become roommates and you couldn’t have asked for a better one. Apart from that, there were also some lessons you were sitting in together and although your and his lifestyle as well as your interests differed to a certain degree, there was nevertheless some things you had in common, about which you could talk for hours.

Seeing your friend as desperate as he was now, hurt you more than you could have said. You knew how much he loved football, knew how hard he was aiming for being able to sign with a talent scout and get big in the NFL and yet he was sitting here now, his dream shattered into 1000 of pieces. You knew how much devastation he was feeling as thinking of not pursuing your dream any longer would have tossed you in a deep hole just like it did with him. You took a deep breath before you entered his room, carefully closing the door behind you. You hesitated for a second before you moved over to him, sitting down on the free space on his bed right next to him, your shoulder touching his before you stared at the hole on the opposite side of the room. “New form of anger management?”, you wanted to know with him chuckling before you could hear his deep voice say: “I think so, yeah."

Although you managed to amuse him for a bit, you could clearly hear the deep sadness in his voice. You knocked with your shoulder against his, before you focused on him, a sad smile on your lips as you said: "I know that you probably don’t want to hear that now, especially when taking into consideration that it was you dream to become a professional football player one day, but usually when one door closes another happens to open. As much as it might suck now, I’m pretty sure that you’re going your way and who knows, maybe along the way, there’s something you enjoy even more than football and with time passing you might look back and be happy for the turn your life took in that moment, even if you don’t know it as of now."

"You’re doing a rather lousy job with your motivational speech, you’re aware of that, aren’t you?"

"Well it was worth a try. Sitting here the whole day, thinking of things, that could have been but weren’t supposed to be, doesn’t exactly help you either, you know? I just want you to not fully lose yourself in that deep hole you are stuck in currently. I just haven’t figured out yet how to pull you out of it.”, you answered with Roman holding your gaze, letting your words sink in. After a few moments of silence he replied: “I appreciate your concern, Y/N, I really do. And I promise you that I will be fine eventually. But right now nothing makes sense. The one thing I had been dreaming of, I had been aiming to achieve, that one thing was ripped out right of my hands. To be honest, at the moment I have no idea what to do with my life. I know that it must sound nuts that a sport can be so important, but… I have no idea how to explain it. It feels as if I don’t have any perspective any longer and that not only drives me mad, but also scares me to the bone. The future, I had dreamed of, just got completely erased and now I have nothing."

"I can understand you, I really do. And I know that it must be so incredibly hard to accept it and to somehow adjust to it. But I need you to understand that your life isn’t over even though it seems to be at this point.”

“I know that, Y/N. And I’m really grateful for you caring so much. And I can assure you that I’m not jumping from the next best roof, but… well… I guess I just need time to somehow get used to it.” You studied his face, trying to decide whether he indeed wasn’t in a position, where he could end up harming himself. You knew, that your friend was strong and you were pretty sure that he was honest with you, but being as deep in that pitch black hole as he currently was, well… you just wanted to rule out the worst.

After a few moments you nodded your head, mumbling: “I just need you to promise me that you are going to talk to me whenever you feel like that desperation is overwhelming you, will you?” Roman could tell how important it was to you that he would stay safe, so he nodded his head, a small smile on his face as he answered, pulling you into a little hug while doing so: “I promise, Y/N. I promise.” You smiled at him before you said, trying to lighten the mood: “How about we catch up on our favorite show? They are having a marathon currently and since, despite your skills, you obviously made sure to miss the television, we still have that luxury.” You managed to make him laugh out loud as he agreed to doing so and within a few minutes you placed a bowl full of popcorn between the both of you, being trapped in your favorite show just shortly after.

There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say. You remain, my power, my pleasure, my pain. To me you’re like a growing addiction that I can’t deny, yeah Won’t you tell me is that healthy, baby. But did you know, that when it snows, My eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen.

The next weeks basically were one huge rollercoaster ride for Roman with as many ups as there were downs. His knee was still hurting like hell and although he tried to adjust to the fact, that football was done with him for good, he found himself in a deep melancholy on a regular basis, found himself drifting away from social life, not wanting to see anyone, especially not his teammates although they were good friends to him. But seeing them just reminded him even more of what he had to give up due to his accident. You tried your best to lift your roommate’s spirits, tried your best to help him through therapy, that he had started in the meantime to ensure, that he would get full movement of his knee back eventually. And you hated to see him suffer like that, hated that you couldn’t do anything to make any of this better as you could completely imagine how hard it must have been for him accepting, that he wouldn’t be able to live the dream ,that he had been chasing for so long, anymore. You would have lied if you said, that there wasn’t a certain sadness in your apartment ever since that accident happened and you could not think of a way to push it away, no matter how hard you tried.

It was one of those days, where Roman came home from his physical therapy more depressed than when he had left. It was not that he didn’t make any improvements, quite the contrary actually, since he was able to walk for a limited amount of time per day without crutches already, but for him, it simply was not fast enough, the improvements he had been making until now were not enough for his liking, were not enough with regard to what he was expecting from himself.

You were currently in the tiny kitchen of your shared apartment, making something to eat for yourself respectively having added the double amount of required ingredients as you were sure that Roman wouldn’t say no when you offered him something as well, when he fell down on one of the chairs in front of the tiny table. You could hear his frustrated sigh and as you turned around you noticed that he had buried his head in his hands. „How was your therapy?“, you wanted to know with him grunting: „Therapy was good but I’m not making any improvements.“

„Ro, you are able to walk without your crutches for a certain amount of time per day. After the severe injury you had suffered and for the limited amount of time you are in therapy now, that is quite some improvement. Don’t be so hard on yourself all the time. Injuries like that simply need their time to heal.“ He lifted his head, his dark brown eyes changing between angry and sad, when he answered: „It just is not fast enough for my liking, Y/N. I feel like a complete no-good. I can’t do any sports, my movement is limited, I can’t even go on any trips as I know that my knee doesn’t want to work the way I want it to. Even sitting in lectures is painful with more and more time passing by. I want to be able to move it, I want to be able to put full weight on it. I want it to go back to normal. I know, that I will never be able to play football again, although I’m still not willing to accept it, but at least I want to feel like a full functioning person again. So no, the improvements I have made are not good enough. It’s not going fast enough and no matter how severe the injury was, I expected it to be better by now. So please don’t give me that „everything will be fine“ motivational speech.“ You crooked an eyebrow, turning back to the pot in front of you, stirring what was in it while you stated: „You sound like a little kid throwing a tantrum, you are aware of that aren’t you?“

„And I have every right to do so. It’s not you having to deal with the consequences of that injury, is it?“ He knew, that he was unfair and he certainly didn’t want to put the blame on you as he knew that it was you, that was by his side all the time, that lifted his spirits whenever he was so depressed that he thought that there was no sense in continuing with his life anymore, knew that it was you, that spent hours in the night by his side, just talking and listening to him when he felt like crying. That it was you, that was his rock in a stormy sea, that gave him perspectives, when he thought that there weren’t any, that always had his back no matter how dark it looked like. That it was you, his best friend, that was there for him, no matter what and he couldn’t even thank you enough for that, couldn’t thank you enough for keeping him going. But in that moment, he just couldn’t show it, he just couldn’t be grateful as he was too deep in self pitying himself than to admit that you were right.

Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the gray. Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah Now that your rose is in bloom, A light hits the gloom on the gray.

You took a deep breath before you put the spoon aside, turning down the temperature on the oven and turning back around so you could face him before you moved over, sitting down next to him and locking eyes with him. You remained silent for a few moments before you replied calmly: „You are right. I’m not the one having to deal with it. But I am the one, that tried to build you up ever since thad had happened. I’m the one, that tried her best to pull you out of that deep black hole you found yourself in. I’m the one, that had to see you suffer like that, knowing that I can’t help you no matter how hard I try. And I’m the one, that has never given up on you, that has never shrugged the state of mind you were in off, but that took you serious in every way possible. And I know, that you have every right to be mad, that you have every right to ask why it was you, why your dream vanished into thin air. But Ro… you are not the only one. Every day people all around the world have to give up their dreams for various reasons. Every day people all around the world are facing way worse fates, than the one you are confronted with. So yes, I completely understand you and I wished that you still had the life in front of you, that you wanted to pursue, but maybe, just maybe, you should let it happen for your own peace that you consider a different path in your life. That you try to stop putting football first and really think of different options, that might be already there but you are way too stubborn to see and accept now. I’m sorry for what you have to go through, I really am. But I’m not your punching bag. And I can’t do anything than to be by your side, to help you the best I can and to show you the possibilities you might have in your life. But you have to let that happen, have to accept it to a certain degree. And if you don’t want my help, at least tell me, so I can stop trying.“

He had been listening closely, hadn’t interrupted you once throughout your monologue and now it was you waiting for his reaction. You didn’t pressure him, didn’t even expect him to reply much, so you just sat there, getting lost in his gaze while you tried to figure out the different emotions washing over his face, tried to decide which one would win in the end. You couldn’t tell how much time had passed but when Roman moved his chair back, getting up as best as his knee let him, you tried to suppress the sigh of defeat. You knew that your roommate could be stubborn but you actually thought that you were on a good way of getting him back to normal. His reaction now caused you to accept the defeat, that you feared so much.

Your eyes followed his every movement, you tried to decide whether you should hold him back, tried to decide whether you should tell him that you didn’t mean to sound harsh but he probably would just walk out the room, slamming the door behind him once he had reached his own room. So you just remained silent, waited for him to walk out, showing you that way that your efforts didn’t meet fertile ground. When he stopped in front of you, you braced yourself for an answer, that you probably didn’t want to hear. Nevertheless you wouldn’t let him know how much it would hurt you if you had to learn that you weren’t the one, that could help him, that you weren’t the one, that could lift his spirits enough, that he would find a new profession he could pursue, even if it would take some time. You stared up at his face, his eyes not leaving yours for just a moment.

Yes, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the gray.

Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah.

And now that your rose is in bloom

A light hits the gloom on the gray

Before you could say something, before you had the chance to take back what you had said, you felt his strong grip around your arm as he was pulling you up from your chair. You had no idea what was going on, wanting to protest immediately but before you could do so, you felt yourself being pressed against his body, his lips landing softly on yours. Roman was kissing you gently while his left hand rested on your lower back, his right gently caressing your cheek, not giving you much room to move your head. You were taken by surprise, not really knowing what you should do. Feeling his lips on yours, being held in his arms was nothing you would have complained about but it simply hit you out of the blue, it was absolutely unexpected. Silencing the little voice in the back of your head, you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss while doing so, parting your lips slightly so he could push his tongue in slowly.

You were responding to his sweet kiss right away, holding him close, drawing little circles on the back of his neck. As you broke apart Roman was resting his forehead against yours, both of you just enjoying the moment you currently found yourself in. You were the first one to find your voice again as you whispered: „What was that?“

„My way of showing you that I am more than just grateful for everything you had done for me since that accident had happened. You were right with everything you were saying except for one thing.“, he whispered, his thumb slowly stroking over your lips as you whispered: „What thing?“ He smiled at you before he placed another sweet kiss on your lips, responding quietly: „I have already found a new meaning in life. And that meaning is you. You’re probably not feeling the same and I’m sorry if I have taken you by surprise by that, but I haven’t found the courage to tell you or show you how much you mean to me before as I didn’t want to destroy what we had. But now… I don’t know, it just seemed the right thing to do.“

He gave you a shy smile, obviously waiting for your response. He was right, you were indeed taken by surprise. Never would you have expected that he felt more for you, never would you have dared to hope that you could have been anything more than one of his closest friends. Never would you have hoped, that he felt the same way for you like you did for him, although you would have never told him. Have you wished for it? Of course. Have you hoped? Absolutely. Have you thought that he did? Absolutely not. You returned his smile, pulling his head down, kissing him gently while he pulled you closer, getting lost completely in your touch.

When you broke apart again, you whispered: „I wished I had known sooner. But I guess I was just as afraid to let you know as you were.“ Roman smiled down at you, slowly processing what you had just confessed to him. „I’m just glad, that I know now.“, he whispered as well before his lips captured yours once again.

Now that your rose is in bloom,

A light hits the gloom

On the gray.

*Currently*

„A penny for your thoughts.“, you mumbled as you hugged your husband from behind, who had just placed a replica of the Universal title, that he recently won, on a vacant space on the cupboard, that held his belts. You heard his deep chuckle, feeling his rough palms rubbing over your bare arms, turning around in them shortly after, causing you to face his chest before you lifted your head so you could stare into his eyes, that were so full of warmth and love. „I was just thinking back to that terrible accident, that did cost me my profession in football. And those beautiful weeks, months and years after leading to this moment here. You were right, you know? When one door closes, another one indeed opens. I would have never expected my life to turn out the way it did. And there is only one person I have to thank for that and that is my beautiful wife, that I’m holding in my arms currently.“, you could hear his deep voice, causing you to smile brightly.

He was right. Not only his accident but also that moment in the kitchen back in your student apartment, where he told you that you were his new meaning in life, changed your and his life forever. You started dating back then and although Roman still had his ups and downs due to his destroyed dream, he nevertheless learned to look on the bright side, knowing that you would be by his side no matter what turn his life would be taking. Both of you graduated from college and by that time, his knee was back to a condition, where he could make use of it completely again.

Due to his family background he soon found himself setting foot in the family business and years from that moment, he was not only married to you, the love of his life, but he also made himself known in the wrestling industry, having won all of the titles, that he possibly could, being one of the biggest stars the company was employing. You wrapped your hands around his neck, holding him close to you as you felt his fingertips follow your spine, sending shivers down it. „I’m glad that you eventually found that meaning in your life, that you were looking for back then.“, you whispered with Roman shaking his head as he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, before he whispered into your ear: „No baby girl. I have found my meaning in life the day I met you on our first day of college. Everything else is just what I love doing. But I wouldn’t feel that way about it if I had to experience all of that without you. So thank you for saving me back then, for being my rock in a stormy sea, for becoming the light on the dark side of me.“ You could feel that you were close to tearing up as you whispered, your voice heavy with emotion: „I love you“ with Roman giving you one of his sweetest smiles, whispering: „I love you too, baby girl.“

Before you could say anything else you felt his soft lips on yours once again. Sometimes the meaning in one’s life was right in front of their eyes, even when it might have been covered. You were just as glad as Roman, that you both have found it that early in your life and you were both determined to hold on to it for as much time as the both of you were given together.

[kashimos-hajime]

Social Justice

Request: could you do a peter kavinsky x reader imagine where everyone in the school knows your Peter's, so they don't even dare try hitting on you, except this one guy does it so often that Peter just gets so angry. But instead of yelling at him in a angry manner, Peter confronts him with such sarcasm and calmness that it ends up scaring the guy away? yeah idk? something like that i guess...

A/N: Hope I do you justice, anon!

As always, thank you @teawithbucky​ for giving this a read over before I let you all read it.

Masterlist and Taglist are in my bio!

Summary: When a new student threatens the power couple of high school, you and Peter Kavinsky firmly put him back in his place with a proper verbal smack down.

Characters: Peter Kavinsky

Wordcount: 1.7k

Rating: T (swearing, one slap, sexual harrassment, strong feminist views because I can’t help myself and I love writing a strong Reader)

You grab your what-was-once-hot coffee and sigh, raking your gaze over the stack of textbooks in your locker. It’s lunch (finally) and you’re exhausted.

“Hey, babe,” Peter greets, sneaking up behind you with his hands on your hips. Not paying him any mind, you cast a doubtful look at the chemistry textbook, wondering if you should study during lunch.

“How was the chem test?” you ask and he plucks the takeaway coffee cup from your hand. He quickly presses a kiss to your neck before taking a sip of your coffee. Making a face, he swallows painfully and you try to stifle a smile.

“It was pretty easy. You should be good to go for tomorrow.” He heads down the hall to throw away the cup as you nod to yourself. That means less work for you. Closing your locker, you smile at your boyfriend. He always has a habit of making you smile even when all you want to do is frown so much that the lines become permanently engraved on your face. Adjusting your backpack, you sneak an arm around his waist as he tosses one around your shoulders, bringing you close.

“Wanna get some subs?” Shrugging, you push open the school doors just as someone calls your name.

“(Y/N)! Hey!” Turning around, you feel Peter’s arm fall away as you spot Thomas Callaway who’d been assigned as your chem partner since the new seating arrangement had taken place. Also a new student, you’d been assigned as his tour guide for his first month. “Hey.”  

“Thomas, hey.” Smiling, you brush a piece of hair behind your ear as Peter grabs your free hand, kissing your temple. “Do you need something?”

“Uh, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to the movies? See the new Shades of Grey movie?” He has a smirk on his face but you, knowing that every Thursday means a chill night with Peter, shake your head.

“Sorry, I have plans.” With one last (not so) apologetic look, you and your boyfriend turn around and he reaches for the door when Thomas calls out again.

“How about lunch? We can ditch the afternoon.”

“I’m gonna get subs with Peter,” you say and Thomas’ eyes go to the taller Peter Kavinsky who has an indifferent expression directed down at him.

“Right. Is that even allowed?”

“As long as you don’t tell,” you say flatly. “Can you find your way to the cafeteria?”

He stutters for a moment, at a loss for words before uttering, “Yeah. Uh, maybe next time?” You shrug and then the two of you turn. Tossing a glance over your shoulder, you offer a forced smile.

“Yeah, next time.”

As the two of you leave the high school, Peter lets go of your hand and resumes the arm around your shoulder.

“Who was that?” he asks, acting disinterested. Knowing he’s only trying to act aloof, you nudge him in the ribs.

“My new chem partner. Play nice for now.”

“If he doesn’t stop flirting with you, I might have to mark my territory,” he mumbles with a hot glare and you laugh, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I don’t like him either.” He tilts your chin up, pressing a full kiss against your mouth. Pushing back, you wrinkle your nose when he pulls away first. “Come on. We needa get back in time.” Tugging your hand, the two of you start in a run towards the Subway down the block.

.

As the month goes on, you find yourself more short-tempered and annoyed than a usual first month back. Normally September’s weather makes you all calm and happy, but with Thomas Callaway as your parasite, you find yourself being unable to be anything but.

It started out fine. Little proposals to hang out, to study, and then it became outrageous.

“Hey, good lookin’.”

“If your name came up in ‘Smash or Pass’, I’d full on smash.”

“Your ass in jeans shouldn’t be legal.”

Let’s just say Peter’s temper matched yours whenever the two of you saw him. To say the most popular couple in school is on a warpath is an understatement. Although the both of you are well respected in your own right, everyone knows to stay the fuck away from either of you. Every girl and guy has made a solidarity pact and everyone likes (or respects or fears) both you and Peter too much to so much as glance in the direction of your boobs and his dick.

Callaway just didn’t get the damn fucking memo.

As the date of homecoming approaches, you know that Peter will plan something elaborate to ask you out. Every year you feel the urge to tell him it doesn’t matter. He could ask you while you were in the middle of the exam and you’d still say yes. Not enthusiastically, but you would say yes. Unfortunately for you, that means that Thomas Callaway’s ‘suave’ flirtations doubled in amount.

As you stand at your locker during break, stuffing your notebook into your locker, you feel another presence hover over you.

“Hey, (Y/N).” Mentally preparing yourself, you pay Callaway no mind even when his breath puffs over your ear. “You got a date to homecoming? Because if you don’t...” He clicks his tongue and jabs a thumb towards himself. Rolling your eyes, you pause to calm yourself down before beginning to jam your textbook into your locker a lot harder than God intended.

“As I’ve told you a thousand times, I am going with Peter. I have been dating him since I have met you; that is not going to change, and I don’t want to go with anyone else.”

“Aw, come on. What does he have that I don’t?” Callaway asks, coming closer until his lips brush against your ear. Closing your eyes, you give him a count to three. You know people are staring and whispering, probably at how stupid this new guy is and when you give him two extra seconds and count to five, you’re wondering why you’re so merciful today. “Come on, baby, why don’t you bend over-”

“Woah!” Whirling around, you slap him hard across the face. He stumbles back as you storm up to him, digging a finger hard into his chest. “No. You don’t get to say that. You do not get to come to my locker, into my personal space, and insinuate things I don’t like, even after weeks of me saying no. You may have been able to push around other girls, make them feel uncomfortable, but let me tell you,” you chuckle, “you chose the wrong girl. I am not afraid to stand up to you. I am not afraid to make a scene. You have been sexually harassing me, even when I have calmly, firmly told you no. I have been forced to work with you because the school has told me to do so. You seem to mistake it for interest. I assure you. It is not. I loathe you. I despise you. And don’t think I won’t report you to the goddamn principal. You’re nasty.”

“You wonder what Peter Kavinsky has over you? A sense of what consent is near the top of the list,” you snap. “Leave me alone, Callaway.”

“Bitch,” he spits and you laugh facetiously. So he’s one of those people. “You’re probably one of those sluts who has him wrapped around your finger while you go off blowing all his friends.”

“Oh, don’t be one of those sad, sad guys. Calling me names because I hurt your little fragile ego? Slut-shaming? Really? I hope you grow up before you even think about asking another woman out again.” Slamming your locker closed, you turn to walk away when you see your boyfriend standing there with a slight smile on his face. A crowd has half-formed, students littering the halls in a semi-circle around you but you don’t care.

“You know, that wasn’t smart of you to piss her off like that,” Peter starts dangerously, walking forward and placing himself between you and Callaway. “Mostly because one, she can fucking kick your ass and two, she has a boyfriend who can probably bench press you right now if he wanted to.” Peeking around Peter, you see Callaway stare at you. “You know what else was a genius move of yours? Hitting on a girl who has a boyfriend.” Peter smiles blandly at the shorter guy as he takes a few paces up to him. “I’ve let it go, seeing as how you’re the new guy, but let me make one thing very, very clear. You come near her again outside the classroom again, and I don’t think you’ll like what happens to you, Thomas. You are not worth her time with how you act and what you say. Grow up, dude, seriously.”

Peter genuinely sounds disgusted and disappointed; so deeply so that it makes you chuckle and he glances back at you. He winks and you smirk as he turns back to Callaway.

“Go, man. Why are you still here? You’re just embarrassing yourself.” There’s a long moment where Callaway stares at you then drags his gaze back to Peter.

“Whatever. You’re not worth my time anyways. Skank.” You roll your eyes. What a classic tactic to bid for the last word. Name-calling. Cute.

“Uhm, bitch, you’re walking a fine line.” Peter crosses his arms over his chest and for a moment, there’s a long stare-off. “You’re dismissed, Callaway.” Another tense silence, then Callaway turns pushes through the crowd. “Let him through.”

“Alright guys, showdown is over. Let’s just get back to class,” you announce as Peter finally turns around with that wide smile you know is for you.

“I am so blessed that you’re my girl,” he whispers and you laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. “Honestly, I only wanted to step in for my two-cents but watching you verbally kick his ass was pretty great.”

“Well, now you’re making me blush,” you faux-swoon and he laughs, twirling you around. “Come on. Let’s get to class.” Pulling away, you extend your hand towards him and he takes it, swinging your arms as you walk to history.

“I love you.” Beaming from ear to ear, you feel your neck warm up as you stare at the tiles beneath your shoes.

“I love you, too.”

TAGS: @teawithbucky @shadowsndaisies @meemeehoelland

[eirabach]

Glow [1/5]

Emma Swan always gets her man, and not even a little thing like death is going to stop her.

A ‘Just Like Heaven’ AU for @cssns and for my lovely pal @killiancygnus who really wanted an AU of this movie and has been patient beyond all measure whilst I did things like have a baby and a breakdown or three and drowned in a pit of writers’ block.

You’re a good potato, Fran.  I hope you enjoy.

Stunning artwork by the incomparably talented @seastarved who I am beyond blessed to know. You rock my darling.

4k. Rated M. TW: Violence, Death... Ghosts?

AO3

She dreams of the ocean.

The skies are bright blue, and cartoon-fluffy clouds scud overhead as the ship skips over the waves with her at the bow. The wind catches at her hair and she laughs - a wild, bell-like sound she barely recognises - and spreads her arms wide.

Somewhere behind her, someone is calling her name.

Emma!

Emma?

“Emma? Emma!”

She sits bolt upright, the cheap plastic chair creaking alarmingly beneath her weight as she sways backwards. Her half eaten breakfast doughnut rolls sadly across the table and drops to the floor, and she scrubs at the smear of cinnamon frosting it’s left on her cheek.

“Sorry, what,” she mumbles, blinking grit from her eyes. “I was just - ”

“Snoring,” says her boss, lips twitching into a sneer. “So glad you could rejoin us.”

“Sorry,” Emma mutters again, “it won’t - it won’t happen again.”

Zelena lifts one perfectly manicured eyebrow over the file she’s holding out, Emma cringing inwardly as she realises that every person around the rickety old boardroom table is watching her with expressions that range from amused, to pitying, to - in Jefferson’s case - alarmingly hungry.

“Rough night?” he asks, with a lecherous sort of grin. “We could make it… rougher, if you like?”

Emma squeezes her hands into fists and forces her expression into a tight smile.

“Not in any way you’d enjoy, Jefferson. I might, though.”

Ruby scoffs into her hand, covering it up with a cough, and the two of them exchange a swift look. Ruby’s still in last night’s make-up too, but hers is still practically pristine, her lips still devil red as she quirks them briefly at Emma.

Emma’s carefully applied mascara, on the other hand, is smeared under her eyes and down her cheeks from hours spent waiting in the rain, her lipstick long since bled away.

It really had been a rough night.

Her mark had been a particularly nasty piece of work, skipping bail and leaving not only one well-meaning and heavily pregnant girlfriend to foot the bill, but two, and Emma had been warned in advance that he had form for getting nasty when things weren’t going his way.

He also, it seemed, had form for standing up dates. In the rain.

And possibly Varsity Level Track and Field skills.

She could imagine better starts to the day than dealing with Zelena and Jefferson after six hours of extensive wet-weather cross-country running and twenty minutes sleep. She squirms in her seat, her shoulder aching still from where he’d attempted to wrench it from it’s socket before she’d finally managed to get the drop on him, and meets Zelena’s gaze with a glare of her own.

“I got the mark,didn’t I?” she says. “I just didn’t get much sleep.”

“I hope you enjoyed your little cat nap, then,” says Zelena, sliding the file over to Emma. “Because here’s the next one.”

Emma’s brow furrows as she looks at the golden embossed motif on the front of the file, the heavy cardstock, the six figure reward for bringing this guy in.

Somebody must have been a really, really naughty boy.

“The cops increased their budget lately?”

“Not for the police,” Zelena says smugly, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms. “This is on behalf of a private client.”

“Hey.” Emma drops the file on the table and shakes her head sharply. “We do bailsbonds, not PI work.”

Zelena hums, her eyes going wide. “Is that what it says on my door? Well I never.”

“You don’t have a door,” Emma mutters, but Zelena is leaning over the table now, her eyes sharp, and Emma is forcibly reminded that although she’s good at her job - great, even - Zelena is still very much the boss.

“And you don’t have a choice,” she hisses. “Unless you think I should give the mark to someone else?”

Out of the corner of her eye she sees both Ruby and Jefferson sit up a little straighter, and her eyes drift back down to the file.

She doesn’t know who Mr Gold is, and she has no idea what he wants with the dark-haired man in the grainy CCTV photo - this Killian Jones - but she knows how much money is left for the month. She knows Henry went to school this morning in jeans a half inch too short.

And it’s six figures. Six.

“No,” she says, closing the file and resting her hands on top of it. “I’ve got this.”

--

The office - such as it is - isn’t the sort of place Emma likes to spend much of her time, even at the best of times which, frankly, this sort of isn’t. Ruby’s nice, outgoing enough to spring the honey traps Emma wouldn’t dare and a personable sort of person to have around if you didn’t mind the constant sound of gum smacking, but even she isn’t a generous enough soul to congratulate Emma on being handed a case that might make her rich. And Jefferson had looked ready to murder her before she’d slipped past the splintered remains of what had once been Zelena’s door and settled herself into the only comfy chair in the place - an elderly padded desk chair reserved for clients that always smells faintly of despair.

Zelena could afford to replace it, of course. Emma thinks she just rather likes the scent.

“All right,” she says, crossing her legs and trying not to wince as her knees protest. “Spill.”

Zelena taps her nails on her desk and tosses her hair over her shoulder.

“Afraid I don’t know what you mean,” she says with suspiciously wide eyes. “Is there a problem?”

“You tell me,” Emma snaps back, the file toht between her fingers. “Since when do we take on private clients - since when do private clients want to hire us?” She gestures to the door, it’s smashed glass panel and missing edges a testament to the sort of review Oz Bail Bonds has received in the past. “Something’s up.”

For a moment Zelena’s sneer drops, her fingers still, the confidence she wears like her knock-off suit flickering briefly out of existence.

“That’s none of your business,” she says, eyes narrowing. “Just do your job, Swan.”

“I will,” Emma snaps, “but not if - I have Henry to worry about you know.”

Zelena rolls her eyes in the particularly dismissive manner she reserves for the rare occasions her staff dare to remind her that they have lives outside of the office walls.

“Best make sure you don’t fail, then.” She gesturs to the door, her contribution clearly finished. “Although,” she says, “since you’re here…” She reaches into her desk drawer and removes one of the thin, buff coloured files preferred by Portland PD. Clipped to the front is a picture of a red-faced, piggy-eyed man, with slicked back black hair and a smile even a mother would cringe at. “Jefferson didn’t quite bring home the bacon on this one, so to speak. Would you mind?”

Zelena smiles her reptilian smile and Emma thinks of her bed, the three day old take out festering in the fridge. She thinks of Henry’s face as he waits for her to collect him from school only to see Mary Margaret turn up again.

“Would it matter if I did?”

Zelena’s smile almost reaches her eyes.

“Not in the least.”

—

It hadn’t always been like this of course.

It’s sort of surreal this half-life of hers, lived in the shadows of other people’s mistakes. She works mainly when the streets are dark and empty, sleeping the daylight away as best she can in an old recliner swiped from a skip, her son’s third-hand xbox blaring brightly away just beyond the edge of her consciousness. She’s tired, always, and never quite as well off as she ought to be for the hours she puts in - the stain of Zelena’s fingerprints over every pay cheque - but on balance, it’s alright.

It used to be far, far worse.

At least she was sleeping her car voluntarily nowadays. Not like those early days before, cold and desperate, she’d thrown herself on the mercy of the only friend she could remember having, her worst best mistake wailing in her arms and her prison issue clothes hanging off too thin shoulders.

And Mary Margaret had let her in.

And let her in. And let her in.

Until their brief High School friendship had developed into something almost like family, almost just right.

She’s getting morbid, it’s getting late. The two things might be connected.

It’s been a depressingly long time since she’d backed the bug into the alleyway outside of the mark’s preferred drinking den, and she’d done nothing ever since but squint into the dark - nothing except fire off a quick text to Mary Margaret begging off school pick up and hoping she’d take mercy.

Again.

It’s a theme, of sorts.

(And If she hadn’t answered Mary Margaret’s follow up call, well. She can’t afford to get distracted on a job.

She can’t afford for Mary Margaret to finally say no.)

From somewhere under the pile of cheeseburger wrappers in her passenger footwell she hears the buzz of her phone and winces.

She sort of should have, maybe, called Mary Margaret back.

No time for that now though. At the end of the alleyway she sees the shadow of a man leaving the bar, the tell-tale lurching gait of the heavy drinker giving her time to slip out of the bug, gun in hand, before he’s able to disappear into the shadows.

This is always the riskiest part - the choice. Does she shout, ensuring the guy currently emptying his guts against a dumpster is the one she’s after but possibly setting herself up for another late night cross country session? Or does she lurk in the dark like some sort of comic book vigilante, creeping along with her back to the damp alleyway walls and hope that she’s able to get the drop on him?

(Her knees hurt. Decision made.)

She inches towards the dark figure, wrinkling her nose up as he retches into the gutter, the street lights casting a yellow halo around his unruly hair. He’s mumbling to himself as he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, some sort of half conversation with the demons in his own head, and Emma slides her gun back into her belt. She’s not going to need it.

Somehow, she gets the impression that if she breathes too hard at this one he’ll drop like a leaf.

“Hey,” she says softly, stepping into the glow of the light, her hands open at her sides. “I think you ought to come with me”

He pauses his mumbling, his shoulders heaving slightly from the effort of being sick, and she sees the way his right hand tightens on the edge of the dumpster.

There’s a crack - thunder that isn’t  - a sharp, wet, blooming pain in her stomach. Screeching rubber and her own pulse harsh in her ears as she stumbles forward, grabbing at the edge of the drunk’s jacket as she falls.

She gasps. Henry’s name garbled in blood. Her phone’s in her car. She needs to tell this guy… he needs to tell Henry… she needs…

Help.

He turns, a flash of blue against white, and everything goes dark.

---

“I don’t know what you expected,” Regina mutters, armed folded across her chest. “Anything other than twenty five to life and I’ve have thought you’d jump at it.”

Killian Jones peers past her with narrowed eyes, his nose wrinkling slightly as the smell of the drains drifts on the wind from the battered building before them. Somewhere, a dog howls.

“You may have missed the point of my turning evidence,” he mutters. “I was trying to avoid a life in a four by six cell in the company of a man who tattoos his own eyeballs.” He nods up at the building. “Not pay $700 a month for the privilege.”  

“$900,” Regina says, shrugging her shoulders as his jaw drops. “What? You have terrible references.”

“You’re my reference!”

“Were you always this sulky, or is this a consequence of your new leaf?” she says, curling her lips and her fingers around the words. “Not quite working out how you’d planned?”

Killian scowls and rocks back on his heels.

“Bit rich coming from you, love. Tell me, how many of your dirty little secrets has your mother hushed up?”

It’s Regina’s turn to mutter now, her perfectly groomed brows pulled low.

“Not half as many as I have of hers, as well you know.”

He does know.

Men like him don’t survive being, well, men like him, without being well aware of the seedier aspects of life - of the lies and the bribes and the bullets that it takes to keep money flowing where it oughtn’t and your blood still in your veins. Mostly, at least.

Which is probably why this is such a fucking horrible idea. Regina clearly thinks it’s a fucking horrible idea, anyway.

“This is a horrible idea,” she says in that obnoxious way she’s had since childhood of dragging up the slightest weakness and exposing it to the world. It’s what makes her a good lawyer. It’s what makes her better at pretending than he is. “Do you honestly believe this is going to work out? You turn on Gold and what - he just lets you live out your days in Portland peaceably?”

“I don’t think he’s going to let me do anything,” Killian mumbles, and for a moment he gets a flash of wide, frightened eyes and the rich, thick pulse of blood. “I don’t require permission. Just a place to live. So if you don’t mind?”

Regina checks her watch, tapping her nail against the glass face and sighing loudly.

“I suppose there’s time to get over to the dockside before the offices close - there’s an apartment there about a bar that will be right up your street.”

“No.”

“Sorry?”

“Not the docks.”

For the first time in her life, probably, Regina just stares at him, her mouth open. Speechless.

“I’m done with that.”

“You’re done with what?”

Killian shakes his head and scuffs the toe of his boots through the sidewalk dust.

“It’s supposed to be a fresh start,” he mumbles.

Regina stares at him, her lips pursed.

“You really have changed, haven’t you?”

“No need to sound so shocked. If you can do it -“

“All right, all right.” Regina tosses her head back to try and cover for the furtive glance she throws over her shoulder. “Ixnay on the… history. Okay?”

He smiles, a sly, almost furtive sort of thing.

“Bit rich coming from you, no?”

Regina’s lips curl back over her teeth and his smile stretches into a full blown smirk.

“No wonder Gold wants you dead,” she mutters. “I want you dead. If you don’t find an apartment soon you’ll be dead, so if you could just -“

There’s a sudden gust of wind that blows Regina’s hair over her face, dark strands sticking to her lipstick and stopping her in her tracks. Killian takes the opportunity to spin on his heel and start walking away, but something catches beneath his boot.

Crumpled pink copier paper, the words that pale blue grey smudge that comes from being the last of a long print run on an overworked machine.

Apartment to Let.

He picks it up, pinching it between two fingers and waving it in Regina’s face like a child who found ten bucks under the bleachers.

“Someone’s looking out for me,” he says. “Wouldn’t you say?”

Regina snatches the flyer from him, examining it with a crease between her brows.

“Unlikely.”

“And yet.”

She sighs, reaching for her phone.

“It’s too cheap you know. I bet it’s got rats. Crawling with them. Or cursed.”

Killian bounces slightly on his toes. It’s bitterly cold in the sharp wind and he’s been standing in the open longer than he’d like.

The walls have eyes and the walls have ears, but at least they block out the wind.

“Well then,” he says, pushing his fists deeper into his pocket. “Sounds perfect.”

—-

It’s uncanny, really. An apartment held in time, plates on the drainer, a golden hair on a rumpled pillow. The curtains are all half drawn, and in the low light the shadows seem to reach out into the room and pluck at the ground beneath their feet.

Cursed.

“Creepy.” Regina’s mouth twists into a sneer as she runs a finger over the TV, the standby light glowing weakly through the layer of dust. “It’s hardly a showhome, is it.”

Killian hums noncommittally, and drops down onto the battered old leather sofa, winging his legs onto the arm and tucking his wrists behind his head.

“Suits me though, don’t you think?”

“Dark, creepy, and cheap. Close enough,” mutters Regina, wiping her hand down the front of her coat. “Apparently it’s some sort of Estate situation. The family just want someone in to pay the bills and keep the pipes running while they sort out the particulars. They won’t be checking in. Distressing, apparently.”

She speaks with the slightly sour expression of someone for whom the grief of others is a foreign and somewhat disturbing concept, as though Killian’s would-be landlords might descend from the ceiling weeping and wailing at any moment and smear cheap mascara on her cashmere scarf.

Empathy was never her strong point.

“Are you sure about this?” she asks him again now, her brows pinched tightly as she takes a final look around.

For now, Killian just hums again and digs his heels into the leather.

“This is the one,” he says. “This is the one.”

—

It takes four hours for Regina to organise bonds and fake a few references. Five for him to collect his single suitcase from the safe house. Six until he’s so drunk he can’t stand.

He sprawls against the sofa, cheek pressed against the soft woollen blanket, and watches the flickering reflection television in his empty bottle.

Even distorted by drink and the curve of the glass she’s still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Her laugh echoes through the room and it makes him want to scream. He doesn’t, of course. He drinks instead. It’s what he does now.

That’s what Regina had told him, that first night in the safe house when his blood had been high and his nerves strung to breaking point. She’d perched primly on the edge of a government issue grey velour armchair and snapped open her briefcase to reveal a decent bottle of rum and two cut glass tumblers.

“More drinking, less thinking,” she’d said as he’d paced the floor, his head throbbing and his heart shattered. “You’ve the rest of your life to regret, Jones. It’s what you do now. Trust me.”

As much as he’d never give her the satisfaction of admitting it, she’d been right.

He’d never thought, before. Not beyond the next deal, next meal, the next moment in a life always lived precariously and purposefully close to the edge. He’d only had himself to care about, and he’d done precious little of that.

And then he’d met her and everything should have changed, and - hadn’t.

In his most sober moments the guilt rises, sour and sickening at the back of his throat, and the memory of Milah’s laugh warps and cracks until it becomes a wild accusation, echoing until it’s nothing but the mad cackle of the man who’d killed her.

So he drinks, and on the screen Milah spins, her white dress flaring around her as she falls laughing into the arms of a man who shares his face.

(He drinks, and there’s no one there to see him cry.)

---

Emma doesn’t remember drinking, doesn’t remember anything really after leaving work, but somebody somewhere must have slipped her something stronger than Mary Margaret’s Labor Day punch.

Her vision isn’t quite right - everything blurring white at the edges and drifting in and out of focus. Her perspective is off, things seem to be both right at hand and at the other side of the room simultaneously and maybe it’s a migraine but it’s like nothing she’s ever experienced before.

That, or she’s gone crazy.

It’s the only explanation for why she hasn’t called half the precinct on the bum sleeping on her couch.

He makes eye contact with her in the reflection of her tv and she opens her mouth to -

And light is creeping through the closed blinds and her couch is empty and how is it morning already?

Emma rubs at her temples and shakes her head sharply. A dream. It was just a dream. A dream she should probably be having in bed.

Except obviously she can’t. Because there’s a man in her bed. A dream man.

Not like that of course because sure he’s pretty but he’s also broken in to her house and - she pats frantically at her waist - where the hell is her gun?!

He stirs and Emma takes an involuntary step back, eyes darting frantically about as she searches for the baseball bat she knows Henry left lying around and -

Oh God. Oh God, Henry.

The man opens his eyes and their blue on white, a burning, searing -

Henry.

—-

Killian wakes face down on the blanket, the ribbon tickling his nose, to find the dvd menu screen playing the first five bars of Milah’s favourite cheesy love song on an infinite loop and almost guaranteeing that his new neighbors won’t be feeling amenable to lending him any coffee for the hangover he can feel brewing behind his eyes.

He peels himself off the sofa and reaches rather shakily for the remote. It’s been a while since he’s drunk quite this heavily - the cops who watched the safe house didn’t look too kindly on his worst excesses - so he takes a moment to regain his equilibrium, staring at his haggard reflection in the now blank screen and pressing his fingers into the hollows beneath his eyes.

At first he thinks it’s that pressure the does it, blinks twice but nothing changes.

There’s a woman.

She’s blonde, her hair falling in waves around her face, and wide eyed as she stands behind Killian’s own reflection. He can see her white knuckled grip on the sofa either side of his shoulders, and the moment shock turns to rage, her face contorting in fury.

He whips his head around, platitudes slow to come to rum sodden lips, and -

She’s gone.

[terriblelifechoices]

Happy Monday, guys.

I present for your enjoyment: the last comment fic from Whatever Remains, However Improbable.  Next up, comment fic from the Timestamps!

Credence is a Graves, and no one’s damsel in distress.  Originally posted on ao3 here.

New York, May 1930

Credence’s head hurt.  He groaned and opened his eyes.  Something had woken him, but he wasn’t sure what.

Galahad screamed, the sound high and piercing, cutting through his headache like a knife.

Credence bolted upright.  Gally never screamed like that.  That was a fear scream, not an angry one.  The sudden movement did his aching head no favors.  Credence barely managed to roll over enough so that he could vomit onto the cold stone beneath him instead of all over himself.

“I have not missed this,” he muttered, making a face at the mess.  He had a lot of it to look forward to in the next couple of months.  He was not looking forward to it at all.

Gally’s screaming faded into terrified sobbing.  Credence scrambled to his feet and looked around for his son, desperate to comfort him.

He ran straight into the magical barrier separating their cells.

Gally saw him and held his hands out, wailing again when the barrier stung them.

“Oh, baby, no,” Credence said, dropping to his knees.  “Don’t touch, okay?  Don’t touch, it’s ouchie.”

“Papa!” Gally sobbed.  “Papa, nonono.”

“It’s okay, baby.  Papa’s going to get you out of there,” Credence promised.  He smashed his fist into the barrier of his cell, letting his magic well up and shield him from the worst of the sting.  “Hey!” he yelled.  “HEY!  LET ME OUT!”

Someone stuck his head through the door.  “Shut up!” he roared.

Credence bared his teeth.  “If you don’t let me have my son in the next five seconds it will be the last thing you ever do,” he promised.

“Oh,” said the man, nonplussed.  “You’re awake.  Fucking finally.”

“Swear jar,” Credence said automatically.

The man stared at him.

Credence gave him an imperious stare.  “My son is twenty months old,” he informed the man.  “That’s old enough to pick up new vocabulary.  I’ll thank you not to teach him vulgar language.”

“Fucking hell,” said the man.  “If I let him in with you, can you shut him up?”

Credence wanted to tell him that the only reason Gally was crying was because he wanted his parents and he was terrified, but he held his tongue.  “Yes,” he said.

The man nodded.  “Right,” he said.  “I’ll get the boss.”  He pulled his head back through the door.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Credence promised Galahad.

“The boss” turned out to be a stick-thin wizard with a shaved head that had been tattooed with a number of magical symbols.

“So you’re Credence Graves,” he said, watching Credence and Galahad with eerie, yellow-green eyes.  “And that,” he added, voice thick with satisfaction, “is Grindelwald’s general.”

Credence froze.  The only people who knew what Grindelwald had wanted Galahad for were Grindelwald’s followers.  Percival had caught most of them before Galahad was a year old, but a couple of them had gone to ground.

Apparently one of them had just resurfaced.

He gritted his teeth.  “What do you want?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing yet,” the man said airily, dismissing the barrier keeping Credence from Galahad.  “I’m sure a man as powerful as yourself can be persuaded to be reasonable.”

Credence scooped his son up, doing his best to shield Gally from the man’s eyes.  “Hush, baby,” he said.  Galahad pressed his face against Credence’s shoulder and sobbed.  “Papa’s got you.  You’re going to be fine.  It’s okay.”

He bounced Galahad in his arms, praying Galahad wasn’t old enough to remember this.  He didn’t want his son’s first memories to be fearful ones.

Gally eventually cried himself out, whimpering miserably when Credence checked his diaper.

“Didn’t either of you think to change him?” he demanded, incensed.

“I don’t know nothing about babies,” said the henchwizard, hunching his shoulders guiltily.

“Change?” the wizard in charge said blankly.

“Idiots,” spat Credence.  “He’s been crying because his diaper is wet and he’s terrified.  You could have at least left him with me, if you weren’t going to change his diaper.”

“You’re hardly in a position to criticize, Mr. Graves,” the wizard in charge said.

“Aren’t I?” Credence demanded.  He reached for his wand so he could tend to Gally, but of course they’d taken that.  “May I have my wand back, please?”

“No,” said the stick-thin wizard.

Credence folded his arms across his chest.  “Then I suggest that someone find me something I can use as a fresh diaper,” he said, using Percival’s this is not actually a suggestion voice.

“You are also not in a position to issue demands,” said the other wizard, waspish.  He clearly didn’t like having to explain these things to Credence.

“Neglecting my son is hardly going to make me see reason,” Credence snarled.  He didn’t give a fig for what the other wizard did or didn’t like.

“I got a rag?” the henchwizard offered.

“Thank you,” Credence said, catching the rag when the henchwizard tossed it at him.  Objects could pass through the barrier without harm.  That was good to know.  He wondered if that extended to magical objects as well.  Grindelwald’s hadn’t, but his current captor wasn’t Grindelwald.

The rag was cleaner than Gally’s diaper.  Credence resolved to scourgify it clean as soon as his captors were out of sight.  It was better not to reveal just how much wandless magic he could do.

He got Gally cleaned up and dressed again, cuddling him close.  He needed the contact just as much as Galahad did.

The stick-thin wizard pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Thank you, Douglas,” he said.  “Please leave.  Douglas is a bit of a soft touch,” he confided.  “I will show you no such mercy.”

Credence glared at him and said nothing.

“I am not afraid to torture you if I must,” the man clarified.

Credence’s experience with torture wasn’t as extensive as Percival’s, but he’d labored for nineteen hours to bring Galahad into the world, and he was pretty sure he could outlast whatever this miserable excuse for a wizard wanted to do.

He wasn’t the only one at risk, though.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“I want you to help power a spell,” his captor said.  “You needn’t concern yourself with what it is.  It would ordinarily be the world of a whole coven, but with your reserves at my disposal, I’m sure we can manage between us.”

Credence pressed a kiss to the side of Galahad’s head.  Gally was clearly exhausted, but he’d hit the point of being too worked up to sleep, even now that he’d cried himself out.  He turned his head into Credence’s chest and fussed weakly.  “Dada,” he whimpered.  “Dada!”

“Daddy’s coming,” Credence promised.  Percival would always come for them.

“Percival Graves hasn’t even noticed you’re missing, yet,” his captor taunted.  “No one’s coming for you.”

We’ll just see about that, Credence thought.

“What’s the spell?” he asked.

“What?”

“The spell you want me to power.  What is it?”

“I told you, that’s none of your concern.”

“Is it something I can help you with now?  I’d like to be home before dinner,” Credence said.

“Mr. Graves,” said his captor.  “I don’t think you quite understand the gravity of your situation.”

“Is the spell ready or not?” Credence asked, impatient.  “And what did you do with my groceries, anyway?”

His captor said nothing.

“You left them behind?” Credence said, outraged by the waste.  He’d had plans for that beef.  Romantic dinner plans, and now this idiot had wasted food meant for Percival.

That was the absolute outside of enough.

“Accio wand,” he said.

The stick-thin wizard scoffed at him.  “You can’t --”

“I am Credence Graves,” Credence told him as crashing noises heralded the arrival of his wand from the other room.  “And I think you’ll find I can.”  He aimed his wand at the barrier between them.  “Finite incantatem.”

The idiot hadn’t even bothered to put up magic-suppressing wards.  Stupid, Credence thought.  The idiot knew how powerful Credence was.  He ought to have taken better precautions if he meant to hold Credence prisoner for any length of time.

“Incarcerus,” he said, binding the man’s hands behind his back.

Credence perched Galahad on his hip while he patted his former captor down, producing a wand and a wickedly curving dagger that was probably meant to intimidate him.  He tucked the man’s wand in his own holster, tossed the dagger into the corner and then gagged him.

“I had plans for tonight, you know,” he informed his prisoner.  “I was going to go home and make pot roast -- I make excellent pot roast -- and rosemary mashed potatoes and green beans fried with bits of bacon.  I had a pie from Kowalski’s bakery for dessert, and some danishes for breakfast-in-bed tomorrow!  And then I was going to tell Percival the good news and drag him off to bed -- or let him drag me off to bed, I’m not picky -- but no!  You had to send poor Douglas to -- to hit me over the had like some kind of brute and now I have a headache and I want to throw up again -- and I hate throwing up -- and you frightened my son and I had to spend my evening being incompetently kidnapped instead!”  He was yelling by the end of it, angry enough that his magic made the room shake.

He felt an enormous surge of magic as a door somewhere else in the house was blasted off its hinges.  Or, knowing Percival, blasted into nothing more than splinters.

“Credence!” yelled Percival.

“Over here,” Credence called.

Percival barely paused to check the room for traps before he swept Credence and Galahad into his arms.  “Are you alright?” he asked, checking both of them for damage.  He cupped Galahad’s cheek, careful and tender, before smoothing his hand over their son’s hair.  He leaned in to kiss Credence, hard and fast, before pulling back to growl at the blood in his hair.  “Who hurt you?” he demanded.

“Leave Douglas be,” Credence told him.  “This idiot is the person who’s really responsible.”

Percival seemed to notice his prisoner for the first time.  “You seem to have this well at hand,” he said, one corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

Credence knew that smirk.  Percival got it whenever he was particularly impressed with something Credence had done.  It meant he was thinking about getting Credence naked and pressed against the nearest surface as soon as possible.

“Percival,” he said.

Percival adopted a sober, definitely-not-thinking-sex-thoughts expression.  “I have to admit, I thought this would be more dramatic,” he remarked, floating Credence’s prisoner behind them.  “A proper rescue.”

“You’re still my hero,” Credence assured him.

“You can roleplay the knight saving the princess later,” Win advised.

Tina punched Win in the shoulder.  “Mercy Lewis,” she swore.  “Don’t say things like that!”  They had poor Douglas cuffed between them.  He didn’t look like he’d put up much of a fight either.

“You brought the cavalry,” Credence said, pleased.

“For you and Galahad?  I brought a fucking army.  Half of MACUSA wanted to come.”

“Language,” Credence said absently.  “You’re going to be late for dinner, aren’t you?”

Percival made a face.  “We’re all going to be late for dinner,” he said.  “You need to be checked by a Healer and then statemented, and I need to deal with these idiots.”

Credence mentally said goodbye to his plans for the evening.  “Wonderful,” he said darkly.