#do I ship pat x cap? not sure

[saninmint]

okay so I love them

[holdupjack]

The Captains Princess Pt.2

——————

Part 1

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

AU: Pirates and Royalty

WARNING: SMUT 18+/MINORS DNI

——————

Third Person P.O.V:

November 24th, 1655

Hermione sat at her desk as sea shanties were muffled by the closed doors behind her. Her eyes darted around the map she was given by her captain earlier today.

They had stopped at one of the fishing towns in the American Colonies to resupply and trade for various items the crew needed. Y/n said they had been here multiple times before, and decided to wake Hermione in the early morning when they arrived.

Hermione had to keep her head down for the most part during their journey around the world. It quickly spread about what had happened in her home country, and an enormous bounty had been set on Y/n's head.

Well, a bigger bounty at least.

It had been barely three in the morning when she was awoken, Y/n smiling as she whispered about taking her around the town before anyone competent was awake.

Hermione was out the door when she was given the 'go ahead' by the Captain to see the foreign land she dreamed of.

Y/n chuckled as she grabbed her bag of coins from the shelf near the door, and jogged after her.

"Are you sure? Do you think it's safe for me to go off ship?" Hermione asks as she slips on her coat, looking over the sleeping town. Y/n hummed as she greeted Draco and switched head apparel with him, much to his dismay.

The Captain's hat was smaller on him, but he knew Y/n couldn't go out looking like her description. So, he begrudgingly gave up his dark grey bandanna.

"As long as we don't bring any attention to ourselves, then we'll be fine." Y/n hummed as she watched Hermione put her hair into a tight bun.

"Are you warning yourself or me?" Hermione asks with a smirk of teasing as she watches the seasoned leader walk onto the board and hold out her hand.

"Depends, do you plan to join me in some hijinks?" Y/n asks as Hermione takes her hand and travels onto the dock with the Captain.

"What kind of hijinks, Cap?" Hermione asks as their hands drop, but Y/n is quick to hold out her arm for her to take.

"Might pickpocket the wealthy, charm a few women...who knows what this night will entail?" Y/n says as Hermione takes her arm as they walk down the dock. The young former Princess hummed softly as the lanterns guided their way onto the mainland.

"Can we explore a little before we are run out?" Hermione asks with a chuckle as she let her eyes roam the buildings that stood near the bay.

"For you, Princess? I'll be on my best behavior" Y/n says as they walk further into town, the road seems to be deserted, but the houses have soft lighting shining out the window.

"I know you said you wanted a life with adventure, but do you ever think about settling down in the future?" Y/n asks as their eyes peered into the home to their left, a man and woman were asleep on the couch as their child lay between them.

"Maybe, depends if I find someone worth settling with," Hermione says as they walk by, before looking back at the emptiness of the street in front of them.

It was silent for a block before Hermione retorted with the same question.

"What about you, do you ever see yourself giving up the helm?" She asks to which Y/n gives her a flirtatious smirk and pulls her closer.

"Only for you" she states to which Hermione rolled her eyes and looked back in front of her. Their 'relationship' had been changing slowly but surely, both of them getting more comfortable as time went on.

"You are saying that just to get a rise out of me" Hermione chuckles softly as they walk down an empty alleyway when a couple begins to approach them.

"Is it working?" Y/n asks as they walk out onto another sidewalk, Hermione just pats her stomach.

"If that helps you sleep at night" she responds as they watch a horse-drawn wagon go by with a young boy sleeping in the back, newspapers all around him.

(A/N: Newspapers were invented in 1605)

"What about kids?" Y/n asks as they start walking toward the town square. The sky was getting brighter, but the sun had yet to show itself. The black sky was turning to blue above them.

"Kids? I never gave it much thought until marriage was being put upon me" Hermione mutters as her fingertips brush the Captain's wrist.

"Not one Prince piqued your interest? Made you wonder how pretty your kids would be with them?" Y/n asks with a grin as the former Princess huffs in annoyance, pinching her forearm in silent protest.

"No! I was sixteen when they started spewing about marriage and 'carrying on the lineage'." she states as they walk past a big courthouse, they have announcements posted for weddings this weekend. Ironic.

"Ah, you were thinking about what to name your new pony and what kind of dessert you wanted for your birthday party" Y/n teased as Hermione reached up and smacked her forehead.

"I said sixteen, not six" Hermione says with a roll of her eyes as Y/n snickered as they stopped in front of a library across the street. The Captain would see the intrigue in her eyes, and couldn't help but bump her shoulder.

"Want to explore inside? It says it's open" Y/n says as she begins to pull Hermione with her, who was trying to put her feet on the ground at this point.

"Are you crazy?! What if someone recognizes us?" she whispers as the stronger girl pulls her towards the library. Their hands interlocked as Hermione was tugged across the street, Y/n had a grin on her face.

"You know how to run, don't you?" she replies with a grin as they slip through the front door, Hermione grasped the back of Y/n's shirt with her other hand in pure nervousness.

The librarian didn't even bother looking up as she wrote down something in a journal, the two quietly walked down the aisles, Hermione's eyes sparkled as she let go of Y/n's hand. Yet she kept a hand on her though, not letting the sneaky captain out of her orbit.

"Too bad I can't take them all with me" Hermione whispers as her free hand skims along the spines of the books.

"Steal one" Y/n whispers with a smirk and Hermione rolls her eyes, a smile of her own being revealed.

"You haven't rubbed off on me yet" she chuckled as she pulled Y/n with her down the row.

"You haven't let me yet do that yet..." Y/n grumbled as Hermione smacked her stomach again.

"Rubbed off, not on" Hermione flushed with a harsh whisper as Y/n snicked again, enjoying making the well-mannered girl blush.

Hermione mumbled small curses as she pulled Y/n down the row, feeling the sensation of the Captain staring at the back of her head.

"Stop staring" Hermione states as her face fights the redness away from her cheeks. Y/n quietly snickered as she ran into the back of the Princess when she wasn't looking.

They stumble slightly as Hermione places a hand on her chest as she peeks around the corner.

The sheriff stood near a bulletin board, nailing a wanted and missing persons poster on it.

WANTED:

Y/N Y/L/N

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE

REWARD:

$50,000

"Dammit, the news made it here too" Hermione whispered as Y/n wrapped her arms around the girl's waist.

MISSING PERSONS:

HERMIONE GRANGER

PRINCESS OF ICELANDIA

BROWN HAIR

BROWN EYES

5'5

145 POUNDS

REWARD:

$5,000

"Why are you worth more than me? I'm the Princess!" Hermione grumbled as Y/n rested her chin on the brunette's shoulder and peeked around the corner.

"It was added on, it was forty-five thousand before" Y/n whispers as the Sheriff walks away, they can hear the opening and closing of the front doors.

"We need to get back to the ship, this is bad" Hermione mumbles back as she slips from Y/n's grasp and carefully steps down the small walkway on the other side of the shelves, out of the librarian's sight.

"You worry too much" Y/n whispers as she follows nonchalantly, while Hermione tries to be as inconspicuous as possible. Which just made her stand out more.

"You need to worry more!" Hermione whispers back as she hides around corners, while Y/n simply walks past her and toward the bulletin board.

"Y/n!" She called out softly as the Captain simply walked up and quietly ripped off the posters. The Librarian didn't even bother to look up again, she wasn't paid enough to care.

Y/n threw out the posters, but when she turned around, Hermione grabbed the front of her shirt and yanked her out of sight.

A little too hard actually, because Y/n ended up slamming into her, knocking them both to the ground. They land with a loud thud, Y/n landing on top of Hermione with a soft 'huff'.

"Is everything alright?" The librarian calls out, but from the sound of her voice, she still didn't give a rat's ass.

"Yes, just dropped a book!" The Captain replies as the librarian just hums in response. Hermione covered her mouth as she fought back some laughter, Y/n looked at her with a smile as she loomed over her.

"Are you alright Princess?" She whispers as Hermione buries her face in Y/n's shirt to muffle her embarrassed giggles.

"I hate you sometimes, you make me do the most idiotic things" Hermione whispered against her neck when she turned to unmute herself. A shiver ran across Y/n's spine as her breath wafted over her skin.

"That 'hate' of yours isn't strong enough to make you walk away" Y/n replied as she mumbled against her ear, she felt Hermione's grasp tighten on her shirt.

"Yet" she whispers back, but that only makes the Captain chuckle softly.

"Don't lie. Princesses don't lie" the Captain says as she hears the soft hitch of a gasp from Hermione's throat. Y/n pressed her nails into the wood of the floor next to the girl's head, fighting the urge to do something...'impolite' as the former royal would call it.

They stared at one another, the threat of getting caught growing more and more by the second.

"Hermione..." Y/n whispers as their lips brush, and a chill runs down the brunette's spine, her own nails digging into the captain's shoulders when she trailed her hands up to them.

"Sometimes I ask myself if you're a Siren in disguise... controlling my very self with your beauty and song" Y/n mumbled at her eyes hooded, teasing another kiss. Hermione bit back a gasp as her body began to burn.

To burn for her Captain.

They soon heard the front doors open again and more voices. It looks like their moment has to end. For now.

"Come on my lovely Siren, it's time to leave" Y/n whispers as she stands up and helps Hermione to her feet, who looked like she was ready to burst with flames from her cheeks.

Their hands intertwined as Y/n quickly zigzagged them through shelves upon shelves of literature. They eventually made it to an unlocked back door, they slipped through without anyone at the wiser.

There was a stairway that led back down to the town, their feet tumbled into a back alley. Hermione looked at Y/n as she looked up and down the small back street.

Hermione could feel her pulse point thumping against the skin of her neck. Her body felt like it was on fire. Her mind was screaming for something they couldn't do here.

Kisses. Touches. Love.

"Y/n" Hermione whispers desperately as the captain pulls her down to the crossroads, their hands squeeze for a moment.

"Yes?" Y/n replies as they look up and down the street, it is still pretty empty, but it won't be for long now that the sun is beginning to peak over the horizon.

"We have to get back to the ship" Hermione says as Y/n pulls her quickly down the street, they could see the crow's nest of the Morrigan, its black flag waved them home over the rooftops.

"Don't worry Princess, I'll get us to safety" Y/n chuckled as they sped through the alleyways and behind businesses.

Suddenly Hermione yanked her back, and Y/n stumbled backward, running into the brick wall behind a barber shop. The sun now peaked out enough to shine a sharp shadow just under Hermione's eyes.

Her irises shined like cinnamon under a lantern.

The Captain's breath got caught in her throat, their eyes caught in a gaze that was just pure yearning.

"My captain...you've done it" Hermione whispers as she kisses the corner of the sailor's mouth, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Done what?"

Hermione let her lips trail down Y/n's jaw, her teeth nipped and brushed against the sensitive skin, she seemed to be fighting back to urge to bite.

"You've finally broken my stance. My feet are no longer dug in the ground. I want you. I need you.

Y/n grasped the royals hips, nails digging slightly into her skin, but she didn't mind. She liked it.

"Siren..."

That nickname again. Why did it sound so good coming from her? Where is the 'my' in front of it?

"Yours. If you're going to call me that, at least stake your claim" Hermione whispers as her kisses trail down to the leader's neck. The sun was getting higher in the sky, and the alleyway wasn't going to hide their activities for much longer. They could hear horses, people, and wagons starting to fill the streets.

"Apologies, my siren" Y/n chuckled as she brushed her nose against the princess's cheek, capturing her attention.

A small kiss was shared. It had been their first kiss in months ever since the night they met. Life was going by too quickly already.

Hermione can't let herself live this new adventurous life without taking a chance on the flirty seawoman.

Their eyes met, staring intently at one another as if they could read what the other was thinking.

A loud pop echoed from the docks, causing the girls to widen their eyes. A gunshot. It could be nothing, or their ship is currently a sitting duck.

"We have to go" Y/n says as she grasped Hermione's hand and dashed down to the bay. Another gunshot was heard, their hands squeezed, and nervousness racked through their bodies.

They ran for a few more blocks until they reached the harbor, a large group of civilians stood at the seam between the wood and earth. They murmured to themselves as yelling was heard from one of the Weasley twins.

"You sir, are as attractive as the underside of my sack!"

"That's rude. Are you saying my sack is ugly too?"

"We're not that identical Freddie"

Y/n squeezes through the crowd, and Hermione follows suit as their hands drop from one another's.

The whole police force was standing guard around the ship. Their own vessels making their way towards the Morrigan.

They didn't have much time. Soon they would be surrounded. Y/n turned to Hermione and leaned down to whisper her in ear.

"Swim to the other side of the ship and climb up the ladder. Hide in our living quarters." she says in such hushed tones, that Hermione almost missed it.

"What? No-"

"Hermione. This isn't the time to argue. Please."

The Princess looked at her, forgetting for a moment that they were surrounded by more danger that she wouldn't truly realize until later.

"Alright"

Y/n pushed her back into the crowd and turned toward the swarm of officials, a drip of anxiousness fell into her stomach, but she just flexed and loosened her hand before walking towards them.

Hermione sped toward another strip of dock and climbed down the ladder that sunk into the cold water.

"Fuck!" she whisper as goosebumps raised over her skin, her clothes moved within the water as she swam to the other side of the ship. Pansy was already waiting for her, almost like she expected her to come this way.

Did Y/n already get back on the ship?

As her hands grabbed the ladder that was carved into the side of the ship, another gunshot went off, causing Pansy to look over her shoulder.

Yelling and clanks of swords started to grow, Pansy looked back at Hermione and widened her eyes.

"Come on!" she yells as she holds out her hand.

Hermione climbed quickly as she grasped the raven-haired girl's hand, getting yanked onto the deck of the ship.

Water dripped onto the wood as she watched as a few of the boys blocked the boardwalk from letting law enforcement get on the ship.

Pansy grasped Hermione's forearm and pulled her into the captain's quarters, she could hear a few Colony men calling her name. They asked if she was 'okay'.

Okay?

She'll be 'okay' once her Captain is in her view again.

Hermione was left in the room, the door locked behind her as the sound of fighting got even louder.

Water continued to fall from her clothes, her body shivered from the cool air. She listened intently as she grabbed the sword mounted above Y/n's cot.

Hermione pointed it at the door, her breath steady as she leaned against the captain's desk. Y/n had taught her how to fight, how to fire a gun, how to sword fight.

But, Y/n swore to her that she wouldn't let those skills ever be used by her while she was still breathing.

Now, Hermione had no idea if her protector was even alive. She looked over her shoulder a moment, they were moving.

She scrambled to the window in front of her desk, watching as bodies lay in the water and dock. None she recognized, but she couldn't see past the lawmen who still stood on the wooden pathway.

Fighting was still ongoing out on the deck, she turned back towards the door, almost like she thought someone would have snuck into the room without alerting her.

There was no one.

Her eyes flew back to the window, there were two Brigantine ships from the Continental Army following after them at full mast.

Hermione crumbled. She hides under her superior's desk. Tears clouded her eyes as she kept the sword at her side.

She felt herself go back to being a scared little girl. The one she hated. The one that almost made her stay back to live a miserable life.

Cannon fire started to fly past the ship, making her cry harder as she hugged her knees.

The princess felt like the little girl who cried when she thought her life would never be the same when the volcano had killed more than half her kingdom.

What a sorry excuse for a 'pirate'.

——————

Hours had passed. Y/n stood on the deck as they escaped through the dense patch of fog that headed out further into the ocean.

They were safe. No one was lost or injured. The Captain let out a sigh of relief as she stood next to Draco at the wheel.

"Once we're out of this fog, head east" she mumbles as she placed his grey bandanna back on his head and held her hat in her hand.

"Aye-Aye" he replied as Y/n walked back onto the main deck and watched as Ron and Harry tossed the dead bodies overboard, praying for forgiveness quietly.

Y/n sighed again as she walked towards her quarters, Pansy unlocked it for her and handed the key back.

The Captain thanked her softly as she walked in and closed the door. She looked around for her royal passenger but didn't find her. Panic.

"Hermione?" Y/n called out as she started to check every corner. Did someone take her?

Impossible! The door was locked-

"Here"

Her voice was soft, too soft for Y/n's liking. She walked around her desk and noticed the sword next to a curled-up Hermione.

Y/n slowly moved her chair and sat down on the floor, looking at her with a soft smile. She noticed the red dryness in her eyes, and a part of the Captain's heart chipped because of it, she pushed away the sword.

"Are you okay?" Y/n asks as Hermione looks over at her, resting her head against her knees.

"Yes"

Y/n sighed softly as she scooted under the desk, forcing Hermione to laugh softly as she was smooshed against the wood.

"We're nothing not both going to fit!" She says as Y/n is still halfway peeking out from the small space.

"You're right" the Captain hums as she thinks for a moment before pulling Hermione onto her lap and scooting completely under the desk.

"Y/n!" Hermione whispers with a laugh as she grasps the front of her superior's shirt, her face going back into the girl's shoulder like it did in the library.

"There! We can be gloomy together!" She chuckled as Hermione relaxed against her, feeling her hands travel up and down her back.

It's quiet for a while, only the creaking of the ship is heard as they sit under that desk. Hermione's hand landed on the space below Y/n's ear, her fingernails gently scratching the baby hairs on the back of her neck.

"I'm sorry" she whispers as her nose brushed against the other side of Y/n's neck.

"Sorry? For what?"

"Hiding"

Y/n pinched her brows in confusion. This was a common response when something like this happened. Also, this was Hermione's first real brush with death. They hadn't been in any danger while Hermione had been with them.

The crew called her a good luck charm. Y/n had to now agree after seeing how they escaped by the skin of their teeth.

"I told you to hide" Y/n whispers as the ship rocks back and forth. She placed her foot on the side of the desk to stop them from moving too much, but that only seemed to press Hermione against her even more as Y/n's knee took up more of the limited space.

"I'm part of this crew-" Hermione started as her legs straddled the sides of Y/n's waist.

"And I'm the captain. I gave you an order and you did exactly what I asked" she replied as they looked at one another.

"Y/n-"

"Siren"

Hermione sighed and laid her forehead against hers, she knew there was no use fighting the stubborn girl. That stupid nickname also quieted her down fairly easily as well.

"Why won't you just let me wallow in self-pity and hatred" Hermione sighed as Y/n just chuckled softly and kissed her cheek.

"Because you're not a pirate, you're an adventurer! There's a difference" Y/n explains as Hermione kisses her cheek back, and just hums in dissatisfaction.

"There really isn't," she says as Y/n presses her lips against the girl's jaw, causing a shiver to run down her spine again.

"Just listen to your dear old Cap, okay?" Y/n hums as Hermione sighs, but nods anyways. There was really no use in arguing.

"Fine...but I'm going to wallow for a bit more" Hermione says as she tries to get out from under the desk, but Y/n quickly pulls her back.

"No, no, no, no" she whines as she buries her face against the princess's neck. Hermione flushed as she was (happily) held captive by her leader.

This was the ruthless Captain that took a princess and stole more money than she would ever need...

That same Captain was now begging the said Princess to stay cuddled up under her desk...it was like night and day.

"I have to figure out where we are, and where we should go next," Hermione says as Y/n groans unhappily and hugs her once last time.

"Fine, fine...how about a kiss for the road since we were so rudely interrupted earlier" she says with a devilish grin, but Hermione just rolls her eyes as she pulls away from her leader's grasp and stands up.

"The moment is gone, but nice try Captain" Hermione chuckled as she grabbed the map from her desk and walked away.

"Siren!"

Y/n was left alone as she sat under her desk with an unhappy huff.

——————

It was now late into the night, the ship groaned softly as they sailed through a small rainstorm. Y/n lay on her cot as Hermione slept on her own in the corner on the other side of the room.

Y/n's eyes burned into the ceiling as she thought about what had happened this morning. So close. So close to showing her favorite Royal how much she'd crumble without her.

Hermione was also awake. Her own gaze locked on the wall in front of her as she kept her back towards Y/n, afraid to somehow show how much she had been replaying their encounter from this morning.

Her thighs squeezed together for a moment as a certain fantasy flashed through her mind. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.

Damn, that sultry captain!

Hermione slowly sat up, turning her body towards Y/n, who was still staring at the ceiling.

"Y/n" Hermione whispers, to which the Captain immediately looks at her with a raised eyebrow. The Princess had to grasp the bedsheets to stop herself from entirely running over to her in a pathetic, desperate, needy nature.

She was better than that.

"You...you are the Devil in disguise, aren't you?" Hermione asks as Y/n smirks and sits up in her own cot, her arms placed behind her to hold up the top half of her body.

"The Devil? That's high praise coming from you" the Captain replied as her eyes dragged around Hermione's body, causing the brunette to puff her chest out of nervousness.

"Most consider that an insult"

"Are you saying it with disdain?"

"...no"

Y/n chuckled softly as Hermione stood up and hid her flushed face in the darkness of the room, but she knew Y/n could sense her anxiousness.

"Why with the sudden compliment, my Siren?" Y/n asks as her gaze follows the girl's silhouette as it moves around their desks and stops only a few feet away. Fucking nickname.

"You know why" Hermione replies as she sits down on Y/n's desk, her legs crossed over the other.

Y/n stood up from her cot and slowly walked toward Hermione, her footsteps were quiet, but it still made an impact between them.

Hermione felt her heart begin to pound against her ribcage, the twilight of the night hiding the passion both of them stared at one another with. The navigator made the first move, her hand reaching out as her legs uncrossed.

Y/n felt herself be guided by a gentle tug of the front of her shirt, her hands landing on the wood on either side of Hermione's thighs.

"If we do this, it won't be just a forgotten night to me" Y/n whispers as her hips spread Hermione's legs apart, a soft breath was taken by the brunette. Their faces were a few inches apart, and a moonlight-filled backdrop spilled through the window behind Hermione.

Enough light came through for the Princess to see Y/n's eyes. They were filled with something she used to think was just flirtation. What she thought was simple teasing from her leader.

No. It was devotion.

Y/n didn't just want her for a night of passion, she wanted her for every moment they could have together.

"I know" Hermione whispers back as her hands grasp the side of Y/n's face and pull her in for a kiss.

When their lips touched once again since earlier in the morning, a burning warmth filled their chests. Y/n's hands grasped Hermione's waist, her fingertips pressing down enough to hold her still.

Their bodies pressed closer as they chased after kisses, both not wanting to give up the heaven-like feeling that their emotions poured out silently.

Hermione nightgown was making her feel confined. It was an obstacle she hadn't thought was going to annoy her so much.

Off. It needed to be off. Now.

"Y/n" Hermione whispered as she felt the euphoric kisses start to trail down her jaw, then to her neck.

"Shhhh..." Y/n hushed against her skin as she moved careful hands down Hermione's nightgown, they landed on the space between her knees and the hem of her clothing.

The brunette gave a ragged breath again, her head bobbing back as she placed her elbows down on the desk below her. Y/n leaned down with her as she softly teased the skin of Hermione's neck with a playful bite.

Y/n's hands slowly grazed up her thighs, slipping under the nightgown as once again, another sharp breath was taken by Hermione.

It sounded as if she was having the wind knocked out of her by her sailor's simple touch. A moan escaped her lips as she felt Y/n massage her thighs tenderly.

Hermione took one of her hands and brought Y/n's face up to hers, sharing a kiss that had her heart squeezing and punching out of her chest.

Slowly her undergarments were pulled away from her hips, falling to her ankles. This was it. She was giving herself to the woman who took her away from her miserable life.

But Y/n suddenly stopped, looking at Hermione with a small bit of hesitance laced in her stare. The brunette grasped her face and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"What is it?" she whispers, a pang of anxiety shot through her stomach. Did she read this wrong? Did she read everything wrong?

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Y/n asks quietly, to which Hermione's eyes widen as she immediately nods her head.

"Yes. Yes, please say you want the same" Hermione whispers as she kisses Y/n's nose, feeling the girl's head vibrate as she chuckles.

Hermione didn't like how desperate she sounded, but then again, she didn't think she could explain her want any better.

"I do" Y/n replied as their lips touched again.

The former royalty couldn't take it anymore. She needed to feel Y/n on her skin. The heat from her nightgown was suffocating. Maybe it was just in her head, but she didn't care.

"Darling, please" Hermione begged softly when their lips parted, she felt Y/n's fingertips trailing up and down the paths between her thighs and stomach.

Y/n smirked as she helped Hermione out of the thin fabric, watching as the girl's body seemed to relax as the cold air hit it. Her back arched as her ribs showed from under her skin, every deep breath protruded her breasts for Y/n.

Hermione felt Y/n kiss her collarbone as she shredded her own clothes, kicking them somewhere behind her.

Their skin touched like fire to ice, if Hermione could see better in the dark, she wouldn't be surprised to find steam clouding up the room.

"Hermione" Y/n whispered as her forehead rested on the brunette, capturing her attention immediately.

"You're more than a navigator to me" she says.

Hermione knew what this truly meant. Y/n has never been good at showing her feelings in a detailed way, but that just meant Hermione learned the secrets behind every sentence she uttered.

"You've always been more than a Captain" she replies quietly as her arms wrap around Y/n's neck, pulling her down for another kiss.

She could feel Y/n's hands run along the insides of her thighs, causing her to shiver as a result. This was heaven on earth. There can't be anything better than this, and if there is, then it has to be because Y/n is in that moment too.

Y/n's hand crept closer and teased Hermione's folds, tracing them with her fingertips as the poor brunette shivered with every touch.

Hermione's lips found solace on Y/n's chest, letting her touch slowly glide over her lover's sensitive bud. To hear a soft moan leave the Captain's throat was like listening to a holy choir, and Hermione couldn't get enough.

Her breath hitched as Y/n's two slender fingers sunk into her slowly, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She arched her back, silently begging for more. Y/n's fingers moved skillfully, her every movement producing a dirty groan from Hermione's mouth.

"Yes" she breathed as she kissed Y/n's neck, feeling her pulse point bumping against her tongue.

As their bodies moved with a rhythm only they could create, Hermione couldn't help but marvel at the way Y/n's touch ignited her body. Every brush of their skin sent waves of pleasure coursing through her veins, leaving her breathless and craving for more.

She could feel Y/n's fingers slowly pumping within her, spreading her deliciously and methodically.

Y/n's lips explored every inch of Hermione's body, leaving a trail of wet kisses along her neck, collarbone, and down to her chest. The gentle graze of Y/n's teeth on her sensitive skin made Hermione gasp, her nails digging into Y/n's back as she arched with pleasure.

"My Captain, please-" Hermione begged, wanting the agonizingly slow pace to end. Her legs spread more silently submitting to anything she had to offer her body.

Y/n kissed farther down her body, leaving a few marks in her wake as she went down further. She felt Hermione's hands grasp her hair, pushing her closer to the neglected bud that was waiting to be touched.

Hermione stared at the ceiling as she felt her lover's slick tongue glide against her clit, making her back arch and her head hand off the other edge of the desk.

"Oh fuck" she moans as her hands held Y/n's head in place. Her eyes were blurry as she looked out the window, watching as the moonlit water was now upside down from her position.

Their passion intensified, creating an undeniable chemistry that seemed to consume the room. Y/n's fingers moved slightly faster, causing the dirty sounds of Hermione's entrance to get louder in their shared room.

The brunette felt her body tremble for a split second as Y/n began to suck on her sensitive nerve. Her moans got more frequent as she felt Y/n's other hand reach up and play with her chest. Light pulling and flicking.

"This...this can't be...possible" Hermione gasped out as her mind tried to wrap around the indescribable pleaser three parts of her body were experiencing simultaneously.

Every touch, every whisper, brought her closer to a blissful climax that only Y/n could make her reach. Her body started to shake as she tried to raise her head to look at her Captain, but it was no use.

"So close" Hermione moaned as her nails dug into Y/n's scalp, but the sailor paid it no mind as her mouth nibbled on the bundle in front of her. They melted into each other, becoming one entity in the darkness as their bodies quivered in unison.

Y/n's fingers quickened again, sending more pleasure through Hermione's body. She could feel her peak getting closer with every thrust.

Hermione's mind was consumed by a whirlwind sensation as Y/n's skilled fingers continued their rhythmic dance against her body. Every touch, every stroke, sent waves of pleasure cascading through her. Her skin burned with an electrifying heat that seemed to ignite every nerve ending.

As Y/n's mouth expertly explored the most sensitive part of her, Hermione's breath hitched in her throat. The sailor's lips were like velvet against her skin, teasing and tantalizing her with every flick of the tongue. It was as if Y/n possessed an innate understanding of Hermione's desires, knowing exactly how to push her to the edge of ecstasy and back again.

In the darkness surrounding them, time seemed to stand still. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, synchronized in a dance of passion and desire. Their moans mingled together, creating a symphony of pleasure that echoed through the room.

Hermione's grip on Y/n's hair tightened, her nails leaving faint crescent marks on the sailor's scalp. The pain mixed with pleasure, heightening the intensity of their connection. They were lost in each other, their identities merging into one as they reveled in the raw, unfiltered pleasure they shared.

Y/n's fingers quickened their pace, driving Hermione closer to the edge. Every thrust brought her closer to that blissful climax she yearned for. Her body trembled under the weight of her mounting desire, aching for release.

The world outside their bubble of pleasure ceased to exist. There was only Hermione and Y/n, two souls entwined in a passionate embrace. The rest of the world faded away, leaving them to bask in the intense pleasure that consumed them.

And then, with one final surge of sensation, Hermione's body shattered like glass, her release crashing over her in a tidal wave of pure bliss. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her, leaving her gasping for breath as she rode the waves of ecstasy.

Her body trembled and jolted as he bit back a scream of pleasure, a part of her didn't need the relentless teasing from Pansy the following morning.

But, that was quickly thrown out the window when Y/n kept up her attack. Hermione felt her lover's hand leave her chest and pin her stomach down.

Hermione was squirming from the overstimulation, her body instinctively trying to release herself from Y/n's mouth and fingers.

Yet, the Captain wasn't letting her escape that easily.

Gasps and moans slipped from Hermione's mouth as her nails dug into the forearm that was pinning her down around her stomach.

"Ah!" she hissed out as her thighs continued to shake. This was Y/n's ruthless side coming out, her selfishness that only happened during intense moments.

She wanted more from Hermione and the brunette could do nothing but happily oblige.

Her fingers disappeared, causing the Princess to finally raise her head, their eyes met as Y/n placed her other hand onto the girl's hip to keep her in place.

"What are you-"

As soon as Y/n's tongue slipped past her entrance, she crumbled back into a moaning mess. Her arms shook as she held up the top half of her body, her chest rose and fell rapidly with every brush within her.

It wouldn't be long until she peaked again.

"My love, please" Hermione begged as she ran her fingers through Y/n's hair, their eyes never breaking contact.

The night went on like this, climax after climax was given to the princess with barely any breaks in between.

The morning began to break when Y/n was finally satisfied with her work and took Hermione to her cot. They lay together as Y/n held her tightly in her arms, kissing the back of her neck comfortingly as Hermione tried to calm down.

As they lay tangled in each other's arms, their bodies glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, Hermione turned in her embrace and looked up at Y/n, whispering softly.

"You've become my anchor, my safe haven."

Y/n smiled, tracing patterns on Hermione's bare skin.

"And you're the compass that guides me, Hermione. With you, I've found a love that transcends any better pleasure out there."

They shared a soft smile as another kiss was shared. Then another. And another.

In that moment, there was no doubt that their love would navigate any storm, no matter how fierce. Together, they were unstoppable, destined for a lifetime of passion, adventure, and unending love.

[deepdisireslonging]

Nautical November Part 5: When the Captain's Away

Captain Dean goes ashore to visit his friend Captain Castiel. In the meantime, he leaves Sam in charge of the ship, and of keeping the Reader aboard. When the Reader tries to convince Sam to let her visit the port, he has to creatively keep her in place.

Pairing: First Mate!Sam x Reader

Warnings/Promises: SMUT, voyeurism, light bondage, use of a gag, oral (male receiving), creampie, cw food

Word Count:  3960

Note: OMG, this part is so long. I swear, I’m not planning so much plot; it just happens. Happy Reading!

Part 4: Hold Your Tongue

When the Gazelle reached the Georgian coast, an excited buzz took over the crew. It was the first true resting stop the vessel had made on the journey. While a few crewmates would stay with the ship for security, even the Captain was going ashore. Savannah’s port originated as a criminal colony, but over the years, as people made homes and families for themselves, it quickly became a restocking destination for ships and crews. Of all types.

Dean stepped out onto the deck. He looked over the crew that had been given shore-leave, and he nodded at those who were staying. When he got to Sam, he gripped his shoulders. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Aye, Captain,” Sam said with a snort.

You stood by the first mate’s side, trying to not look put out. The brim of the captain’s cap folded and unfolded in your hands. Dean had ordered you to stay aboard. While you knew you hadn’t negotiated for a touring passage, you still would have liked to step on land and stretch your legs a bit. But after your stint on board during the raid, Dean wasn’t sure you would be safe to go ashore. He was afraid you’d be recognized and nabbed by the merchant crew. Nothing you could say could dissuade him.

He curled his finger under your chin, sighing. “Come on, Sweetheart. You can’t hate my guts for wanting to keep you safe.”

“No. I suppose not.” But the smile you gave him was forced.

Dean rolled his eyes and hugged you close. “Maybe I can be persuaded to take you ashore at the next port. It’ll be St. Johns. Spanish country.” He titled your face up to his. “Would I be forgiven?”

“Maybe.”

He chuckled. Then, before you could see it coming, he dug his fingers into your hair to hold you in place and kissed you deeply. He grinned as you hummed, surprised, into his mouth, gripping his biceps.

Around you, the crew gave you both a series of childish whoops.

You kept a grip on Dean’s forearms when he released you. It took a second to catch your breath. “With kisses like that, Captain,” you flopped his hat onto his head and patted into place, “they might think you’ll never give me up.”

Dean chuckled but didn’t refute you. Instead, he checked in with a few crewmates who were staying aboard for supplies they needed. “And you. Do you want anything?”

“Me?” Caught off guard, you stammered. “No. I suppose not.” As he started to turn away you added, “maybe something sweet?”

“Something sweet? Something sweet.”

You giggled as Dean’s confused face told you he was running through the memory of the Savannah shoppes.

“I’ll, ah, see what I can do.”

---

For hours after Dean left, you kept darting out to the deck, watching for his return. After each false alarm, you returned to the cabin to mope. It was beginning to darken outside when you slumped into the captain’s bed.

Sam barely glanced up from his desk work. “You know he won’t be back till morning. None of those crew members will be.” He turned back to the stack of papers. “He’s about to get so drunk with Cas, among other things, that the crew who stayed will be lucky if they get half of what they asked for.”

“Oh.” Not that you really needed something sweet, but the depleting odds of ever receiving something still hurt. You tossed and turned in the bed. “Did you ask for anything?”

“Hmm?”

“From Dean. Did you ask the Captain for anything from shore?”

Sam shook his head and looked up from his papers. “What? Oh… um, no. I didn’t ask for anything.”

Biting your lip, you teased a plan in your mind before interrupting his thoughts again. “Maybe you could get me something sweet.” You looked up. Sam mumbled a series of numbers to himself, oblivious to what you were implying. On your tip-toes, you walked up behind him. “I said,” you whispered into his hair, “maybe you could get me something.” His shoulders stiffened as you hugged your arms around him. “Something sweet.”

He glanced up at you. But with a huff, he turned back to the desk. “I would love to. But there’s a lot to be done before Dean gets back. I’m afraid we may not have time.”

“Oh.”

If he heard the hurt in your voice, he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Then can I go ashore?”

“No.”

“Why not? It’ll only be a couple hours. I won’t be late coming back.”

“Because Dean said to keep you on board.” Sam crossed through a series of lines. “Captain’s orders.”

You tried massaging his shoulders. “But you’re the captain while he’s away. You could-”

Sam grinned. “If the captain wants something, or someone, here when he gets back, then it’s going to stay on the ship.”

With a huff, you stepped around to the side of the desk. Planting your hand on the wood, you tiled your head until you could catch his gaze. “I thought I was paying my way. When did I become a prisoner?”

“You’re not.” Sam leaned back, freezing you in place with his unreadable glare. “Do you want to be?”

You shuffled your feet. “No.”

“Okay. Then, please, stop distracting me. Go… watch the docks or something.”

Or something. The foxiness that your father had tried to drum out of you rose up in your lungs. You mimicked Sam’s statements silently to yourself as you turned towards the back window. Its wide series of glass panes did give you a good view of the docks. You could watch the bustle of the city from there.

But with it getting dark, the bustle of the port was beginning to slow. Behind you, Sam lit a couple of oil lamps with their flames encased in glass. After a man rolled a barrel into the back of a building, the dock was bereft of people. You huffed. There went your entertainment. You did your best to calm yourself by watching the waves lap against the port. But then a quick movement caught your eye.

It was a couple. A lady of your future profession by the look of her, and her client. They took turns looking in either direction before she sank to her knees. The client clapped a hand over his mouth as she began to work him over.

Enraptured, you didn’t realize that your breath hitched. And when it did, it caught Sam’s attention. He watched your shoulders tense and relax as the man in the distance reacted to his treatment. And he watched your hips gently swivel over nothing. Quietly, he laid the papers to one side. The ship shifted and creaked in its way, covering up the sound of his boots approaching. So when his hands slid up your arms, you squeaked in surprise.

“You can’t wait to be her, can you?” Sam nuzzled his nose along your cheekbone. He grinned as you gasped. “I can’t wait till we get to visit you, maybe a year from now, when you’ve learned so many ways on how to pleasure a man. To your credit, you know plenty already.”

You turned in his arms. Immediately, your eyes landed on his lips. More than anything you wanted them kissing you under your jaw and across your chest. “Sam-“

“Nuh-uh. I’ve got paperwork to do.”

Before he could turn away, you slid your hands under his shirt neckline and over his shoulders. “Take a break. Please.” Batting your eyes up at him, you let the ship rock you into his body. You bit your bottom lip as you could feel how much he wanted you too.

Sam removed your hands. “I’m almost done.” As you whined, he turned you back towards the docks where the lady was finishing up with her client. “But why do I get the feeling that you won’t stop pestering me until you’ve got me in a similar situation?”

“Because I won’t. You won’t let me ashore. And you won’t love me. How else am I supposed to pass the time?”

You gasped as Sam gripped his fingers into your front ties. He forced open the front of your dress so he could make it fall to the floor. You giggled, thinking you’d won.  But his large hands kept intercepting where you wanted to touch him. In the struggle, he forced you to stand in front of the desk, before dragging over the guest chair over with his boot. He shoved you into it.

“Sam? What are you-”

“Shh. Stay.” He took the gag out from under Dean’s pillow, tying it around your head. From under his bed, he came back with soft ropes for your wrists and tied them behind the backrest. For your ankles, he tied them together, and then tied them to one of the chair legs. He stepped back. Approving of his handwork, he nodded. And then went back to work. 

You complained through the fabric in your mouth.

Sam glanced up. “Don’t give me that look. I warned you. Now stop distracting me. The sooner I can finish this, the sooner I can deal with you.” He focused on the tasks at hand instead of how you struggled against your bonds.

Through the window, the pair looked around again. For a split second, you thought the lady could see you. She sent the ship a second look. But then her client was tugging at her wrist, and they were gone. Though the docks were empty, you suddenly felt very exposed. Being naked in Sam and Dean’s cabin was very different when you were out at sea. The window revealed nothing but the ocean blue. Here… anybody walking by could see you. It made your skin warm. And you wriggled in your seat, trying to rub your thighs together.

Sam finally tossed down his work. He ran his hands over his eyes, rubbing away the day. When they landed back in his lap, he took a long time to look you over. How lovely you looked tied up just for him. Like a present. How needy you were. Tilting his head, he imagined what he could do to you. He smirked as you writhed under his gaze. He moved slowly. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a key. You realized it was a copy of Dean’s for the top drawer. Sam pulled out your commission, reading it over again.

 He hummed. “So, your mistress doesn’t even know you’re coming.” He made eye contact with you over the letter. “You know… Dean really hyped up to the men about the possibility of a discount with the Ambrosia’s ladies. What happens if we get there, and she doesn’t let you in?” He leaned back in the chair. While one hand held up your letter, the other sank into his lap. You knew he was palming his cock through his pants.

You startled. Sam opened the side of the lamp so the light was brighter. And he held your letter close to it.

“What happens if we get to Tortuga and you don’t have a commission to show the mistress?”

You held your breath. With the flame so close, you could see the ink through the page. The risk to your future made you shudder all over.

But Sam leaned back again, flicking the glass closed. “If you can’t make it into the Ambrosia, maybe we could convince you to stay onboard indefinitely. And maybe we could expand your service to the whole crew.” He smiled at you with flat, terrifying, soulless eyes. “The crew could pay you in trinkets for your services, instead of just for your presence on deck.”

He watched your tummy contract. With fear or with potential, he couldn’t tell. To his credit, neither could you.

But he slid your commission back into the drawer, locking it securely.

You closed your eyes as your head fell back. The cool air of the ship washed over you, adding to your trembling. Chilled by Sam’s threat and the air, your chest heaved as your nipples peaked. You gripped the armrests. With a whimper, you arched your chest forward. It was futile to pull against the ropes, but you tried anyway. Sam was watching you when you opened your eyes.

He slowly stood, never taking his eyes off you. “What was it like when you got caught? You said you were blamed for the Mayor’s precious son falling into sin. Did several people accuse you?” His jaw tensed as you nodded. “Shame. They didn’t know what a treasure they had.” As a gleam slipped into his eyes, he titled his head and sat on the front of the desk. “Or did they? Maybe they were hoping, with you so fallen, that you’d end up in the local house. I bet those potential lovers were pitifully surprised when your father got in the way. And even more so when you ran far out of their reach.” He tutted. “Their loss. They should have kept their mouth shut.”

Another shiver ran up your spine. You tried to press yourself further into the chair as Sam came to rest his hands on the armrests. His nose trailed across your forehead. Chuckling, he kissed away the worry there. With a curl of his finger, he tugged the gag out of your mouth.

“Sam-”

“Don’t worry, little pet. I won’t destroy your commission.” He dragged his thumb across your bottom lip. “Do you trust me?”

Maybe a little less than you did that morning. But overall, yes. You trusted him. You nodded as such.

“I need to hear it.”

“Y-yes. I trust you.”

He glanced towards the windows. There was nobody out there. But with how his gaze lingered, you knew he was watching the memory of you watching the whore with her client. It made your body hot when he refocused on you. His grip on your chin tightened. “Can you take care of me again? ‘Want to feel that hot mouth around me.”

You nodded. But remembered to stammer out, “Yes, Sir.”

Sam froze halfway through untying his pants. He leaned down till you were nose to nose. “Dean’s not here. So, what does that make me?”

“The captain?” You squeaked as he roughly kissed you.

“Correct.” He finished releasing the pressure of fabric from over his cock. When he brought it out into the open, you couldn’t help but remember the stretch of it the first time he and his brother shared you. Or the weight of it on your tongue the second time they shared you. With the way he slowly dragged his hand up and down his length while staring down at you, you knew those same memories were running through his mind too. Furthermore, it looked like he was trying to figure out which way he wanted you to… take care of him. He swallowed hard as he made his decision.

“Sam- Captain?”

“Open wide.”

You obeyed. And you remembered to open especially wide, as he had shown you a few days ago.

With your legs still tied to one side, there was room on the seat for his knee. He gripped the back of the chair, moaning with the first tiny licks of your tongue over his head. Without your hands, he had complete control of how slow or quick he could sheath his length into your waiting mouth. He took mercy on you. For now. His pace was slow. More exploratory than needy. It was like he wanted to feel every inch of your mouth around his cock. And he wanted the time to enjoy it instead of the heated rush like last time. His free hand gripped under your chin, with his long fingers reaching up to your cheeks. When he pressed them in, you sucked around his length. When he loosened his grip, you hollowed your mouth.

He guided everything. And the more you added your muffled voice to his pleasure, the more he praised you.

“Look at you. Swallowing me down like a professional whore. You’re not even in your house yet, and you’re taking me down your throat like I’m paying a purse-full of gold for it.” He groaned as you swirled your tongue around him. “I wonder how much you’ll charge. A doubloon. Maybe two.” His voice dropped to a strained whisper. “I hear they have a room where the other patrons can watch a girl at work. Would you like that? Kneeling on a gilded pillow, the center of attention, while a dozen people watched how well you can use your mouth? And to think,” he panted, pulling out so you could breathe, “here I am, getting it for free.” He laughed, catching his breath. “Your rate would double when everyone clamors to be your next paramour.”

Then he filled your mouth again. His words were working you over too. And he was well aware of it. Whenever he liked, he kneaded your breasts and pinched your nipples. It made you cry out around his cock. Which, in turn, stuttered his pace. But just when you thought he was ready to fill your throat, he would pull back. He shoved a pair of his fingers over your tongue while he watched your thighs try to relieve your pressure.

“You doin’ alright?” He withdrew his fingers, amused at your long string of spittle that dripped out.

“Yes. Yes, Captain.”

“Do you think you could do more? I don’t want to break you before Dean gets back.” You barely had time to eagerly nod before Sam pressed the head of his cock to your lips again. “Take a deep breath.”

You did as he told you. His hand slid around your throat. And his cock slid into your eager mouth. And further. You exhaled slowly to remain calm as Sam groaned deeply above you, his cock fully sat within the hollow of your throat. His hand twitched. Just the slight change in pressure made you see stars. Against the arm rests, your hands fluttered, wishing you could hold onto anything. You tried to swallow, but there wasn’t room. When he pulled out, your spit made a mess of your chest. You coughed through reacclimating your neck to oxygen instead of his length.

“Maybe I should burn that letter,” he muttered to himself. “Can’t. Dean would be furious.” He smoothed your hair out of your face. “He never goes back on a deal.” He had to grip the base of hic cock as you leaned your cheek into his palm. Your eyes were hazy, sexed-out, and wavering between pleasure and passing out. “Still with me?”

“Mhmm.”

He gently stroked himself. You arched your chest, ready to let him cover you with his cum again. But he shook his head. “Not yet.”

Instead, he tugged at your restraints. They fell apart easily. The slip knots would have been easy to escape if you’d twisted them just right. But dizzy with fresh air and Sam’s gaze, you let yourself be man-handled into having your wrists tied together. Sam sat down in your spot, laughing as he landed in the wet spot you left behind. He guided you into his lap with your back to his chest. Taking hold of the rope between your wrists, he laced your arms over his head. The angle arched out your chest and gave him plenty of the expanse of your body to spread his hands across. His length sat proud, trapped between your bodies.

You whined as his fingers trailed down you body to your clit. He barely touched you and you wanted to fall apart.

“Gonna let me fill you up?” Sam lightly bit down on your shoulder. “Gonna take me in that pussy as well as your mouth did?”

“Yes. Oh, Sam-”

“Ask me nicely.”

You bit your lip first. Sam cupped his hand over your sex, hovering the threat and promise of his fingers while waiting for your begging. He ground his palm shallowly into your clit. “Please. Captain… need you. Fill me up. Need your cock in me. Please.” You tried to swivel your hips further into his hand, but he withdrew.

“Hmm. It’s a start.”

Thinking he was going to tease you further, you whimpered. You needn’t have worried. Sam lifted you up by your hips and guided his length into your channel. Each inch that speared into you raised the moans and sighs that he and Dean tried so hard to cover up. But with the speed Sam was pulling you down, he didn’t seem to care about that tonight. Why should he? Most of the crew was gone, and the rest were either waiting for or on their watch shift. You were alone with him. And he wanted you loud for once. It wasn’t difficult to oblige. When he sat you fully in his lap, your body trembled. His thick arms wrapped around your torso, holding you in place and grounding himself.

The pace he set was quick and desperate. He ‘d had enough of your edging him. Even if it was his fault that he wouldn’t let you suck him to completion. Sam held you close, grunting into your hair while he stole what he wanted. He wanted your walls clamping around him. He wanted your sounds. He wanted you to fall apart. Heady with the fill of him and his hands holding you tight, you warned him your release was coming up quick. If he heard you, he didn’t care. When your body stiffened, he slammed you down, holding you there was your walls fluttered with orgasm. And still he didn’t cum.

“Sam-” you mewled, drawing out his name.

He continued to roll his hips.s But he didn’t pull you off. Not for several minutes. While you caught your breath, he did his best to make sure his cock felt every bit of your pussy. Then, the second you could breathe again, he took hold of your hips. You cried out as he raised you up and began again. He didn’t last long. With a growl, he buried his cock deep within you, stuttering his hips as he filled you with his release. It spiraled you into another release. Or was it actually the reignited ending of the first?

It wasn’t until after he laid you in his bed that you realized that he’d moved you. His hands, warm and still trembling, massaged your shoulders. And he massaged your wrists, freed of their bindings. The gag he returned to Dean’s side.

Sighing, you reached for him and tried to pull him into bed. But he resisted.

“Not done with going over the inventory.”

You pouted, but rolled to one side so you’d be able to see the desk as you drifted off. “Don’t be long,” you said. You yawned. “Come back to me.”

He watched you fall asleep, trailing his fingers across your jaw and down the curve of your hip. After pulling a blanket over you, he returned to the pile of paperwork that needed to be done.

---

In the morning, Dean and the rest of the crew came staggering aboard. He passed a sticky bun into your hand and kissed the side of your head.

“How’s Cas?” Sam winked at you and let his palm fall onto his brother’s head.

Dean pushed it off with a groan. “He’s good. As always. Do you have to shout at me? Damn.”

Then, wobbling like a man who’d never stepped foot on a ship, he stumbled off to bed to sleep away the rest of the morning. Sam invited you with him to stand behind the wheel as he guided the ship out of port.

***

Part 6: Halfway There

Masterlist

No Cum November 2023

[selineram3421]

*screams into the void*

Isekai'd

Part 3: Presence of An Angel

Part 2

~

Vash (Tristamp) X Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ cussing-again, blood, all caps for screeching, Vash being a bit of a weirdo ⚠

The paper that smacked your face ended up being Vash's wanted poster.

Oh shit! This is so cool! You thought looking at the paper with sparkling eyes.

Eventually you had to put it away. You didn't want it to get messed up.

The coat you bought worked amazingly well, keeping you cool from the heat and protected from the random hot gusts of wind.

The Tomas you rented was slightly more blue than green. It was honestly fun though, probably the closest thing you got to riding a horse.

"I'm gonna name you Kevin!"

Then after a long while of riding through the desert in silence, you got bored.

I wish I had a music player. You sighed. Well I could just sing.

Singing for you only happened when no one was around. And since it was the desert, there was no one.

Yeah, why the hell not. You decided and started singing.

"I can't see where you're comin' from

But I know just what you're runnin' from

And what matters ain't the who's baddest but the

Ones who stop you falling from your ladder

When you feel like you're feeling now

And doin' things just to please your crowd

But I love you like the way I love you

And I suffer but I ain't gonna cut you 'cause

This ain't no place for no hero"

You sang out, geeking out a bit how this was the perfect song to sing in the desert.

Then the night rolled in and you had to stop, setting up camp after making sure the area was safe enough to do so.

"I hope there's no worms around.", you mumble while trying to figure out how to set up the tent. "How the fuck do I do this?"

Kevin was chilling out by the camp fire you made, sitting like a chicken resting in a nest, feathers all ruffled up to keep warm. Leaving the tent unmade, you make your way over to the Tomas and sit next to them, pulling your coat closed as you leaned back on them.

"Good night Kevin.", you pat the bird. "Peck anyone trying to rob or kill me.", you say with a yawn before knocking out.

✴

Blinking your eyes open, you saw the glass ceiling of a familiar ship.

"Ah fuck.", you grumble and sit up.

Why am I always lying down on the ground? You wonder.

Looking around, you find yourself alone.

Not wanting to sit around, you stand up and start walking. The flowers were swaying slightly, like a breeze just passed by recently. As you continued, you noticed that you were walking to the tree that you first woke up by.

Now standing under it, there was an odd need to close your eyes, so you did.

All of a sudden there was a tug on your clothes from behind. Turning to see who did it, you find a small boy with blonde hair, blue-green eyes, and a beauty mark just under his left eye.

"Wow.", you end up saying.

"Wow?", the boy repeats, tilting his head to the side.

"Oh, sorry!", you let out a small laugh and give him a closed eyed smile. "I just couldn't hold back my awe about how pretty your eyes are!"

What you don't see is the boy smiling at you.

✴

"How pretty.", you mumble, slowly blinking your eyes open.

Only to see blue-green eyes staring into yours.

"AAAAAHHHH!", you screech and kick the person in the face on instinct.

"AAH-OW!", the man yelps and holds his nose as he falls back.

You scramble to stand up, now wide awake and take in who the hell thought it was a good idea to watch you sleep.

"Ow ow ow OW!", the guy says in pain. "That really hurt!" He was curled up into a ball, squirming around like a worm out of the dirt. "Geez, you've got a good kick."

Blonde, red jacket, prosthetic arm- You listed off. Holy shit, I just kicked Vash The Stampede!

"Oh shit! Are you ok!?", you say and rush over, kneeling down next to him. "What the heck man, you shouldn't ever be that close to some sleeping stranger!"

"Now I know. Hahaha..", the blonde laughs and cringes in pain. "Thank goodness I didn't have my shades on."

You didn't notice that his signature yellow shades were off, but that didn't matter at the moment. "Let me see your nose.", you say and try to move his hands away.

"No no! Its bleeding and that's not a pretty sight.", he tries to wave it off.

"Oh please, I've seen worse.", you roll your eyes and move his hands. "Being a medic and all, there's a lot of gross things that I see."

He lets you move his hands a bit reluctantly.

You try your best not to blush when seeing all of his face.

Damn this man is beautiful.

His nose isn't broken from what you can tell, but it does need to stop bleeding.

"Excuse me for a moment.", you say and pinch the bottom of his nose. "Lean forward.", you say and guide him. "Can you hold your nose like this while I get something from my pack?", you ask.

He nods, staying in the position you told him to.

Letting him take over, you rush to your medic backpack and dig through it to find the cold compress that you made.

After getting it, you crack the rectangled compress like a glowstick and shake it. Making your way back to the blonde, you see that he's looking at the item in your hand curiously.

"Its like an ice pack.", you say and kneel down, carefully pacing it on his nose. "Sorry for kicking you in the face."

"Sorry for giving you such a spook.", he smiles.

Did not expect to meet the main character like this. You beat yourself up and cry internally. I kicked him in the face.

"Gotta keep it there for fifteen to twenty minutes.", you say and let him hold the cold compress.

It was early in the morning, the suns weren't even up yet but the sky was slowly turning a lighter blue.

Ah damn, I forgot to look at the starts last night. You frown, looking up at the sky. I've got tonight, so no worries.

Then you remember that the man in front of you was watching you sleep.

"Hey mister.", you look at him with a confused glare.

"Hm?", he looks up at you.

"Why were you watching me sleep?", you ask.

...

"Oh, hahahaha!", the blonde laughs nervously.

He'd probably be rubbing the back of his neck if his hands weren't busy. You thought.

"Its not every day you see a sleeping beauty!"

Brain functions are at a halt.

You look at him in shock.

Did he just-? The feeling of your face heating up creeps forward, and you even feel your ears turning red.

"I thought you were an angel! Hahaha!", he continues.

This mother fucker-! You feel yourself puff out steam from the top of your head. Wait, I can do that?

"What is this? You trying to sweeten me up so I don't beat the crap out of you?", you grumble.

He just smiles at you like the dork he is.

"Whatever.", you huff and get up.

Putting your camp stuff away, you tie the tent and sleeping cot onto Kevin's saddle. It being easier to have there than on your pack all the time.

.

Vash had been on the run again, narrowly escaping being shot at from behind.

It didn't take long for the sky to go dark.

After a few hours of walking in the desert, he noticed a camp fire in the distance. Hoping it was someone who could spare food, he made his way over.

"Hey there friend! Sorry to interrupt but could you-", he then paused after seeing that the person was out cold. "Ah shoot."

The Tomas they had turned to look at him, letting out a squawk.

"Hn.", the sleeping person started to shift.

"Ah! Sh! Shhh!", Vash hurriedly went over to keep the bird quiet. "Hey now, you don't wanna wake them up!", he whisper shouted.

The giant bird let out another shreak before pecking him on the head.

"Ow! Hey, I'm not doing anything!", he fought with the bird a bit before it finally stopped trying to hurt him. "Whew.."

Taking another look at the sleeping traveler, he saw that they were now lying on their back, face now visible.

As if in some sort of trance, he made his way over, kneeling down just to the side of them.

The camp fire went out but it wasn't long till the sky started lightening up, signifying that the suns would soon show up. The light seemed to help the sleeping beauty glow, as if they were a fallen star.

"Wow.", Vash mumbled in awe, taking his shades off to get a better look.

"How pretty."

He didn't noticed they woke up until they screamed.

"AAAAAHHHH!"

"AAH-!", he screeched but it soon turned into a yelp of pain. "OW!"

They kicked him in the face.

Poor Vash. But really, he should have been more careful.

~Seline, the person.

Next: Part 4

Taglist@

@summerdazed @+?

Song: Short Change Hero by The Heavy

ML Vash | ChL Isekai'd

[motorcyclebucket]

Hello!! I hope your day is going well.

I was wondering if I could get some engineer!mark x captain!reader in which the reader is super patient (borderline being a pushover), and they've been putting up with Mack second guessing them and questioning them at every time a decision needs to be made.

And it gets to the point where there's a super important decision (perhaps something along the lines of scouting out areas on the chosen planet to start building stuff and getting colonists settled), and Mack once again is pushing against what the reader thinks is best. And so they snap, and they tell him off for it and they verbally park his ass back in line where he should be. Maybe Mark tries to calm the reader or something?? (I hope this makes sense (°∀°)b)

- dragon anon

Sure thing man! Hope your day is good too!

Words: 563

Warnings: Captain fuckin’ snaps, Cursing

========================

“You know Captain, maybe if you re-route the cargo ships we could get supplies down faster-”

“Thank you for the input, Mack, it will be noted.”

Second guessing from Mack had become the norm the moment you had set foot on the ship. It was like he always had something to say about the way you did things, like he always had something to prove. It did get annoying at times, but you looked past it. You knew he thought he would be a better captain, but he was an engineer. That was his position in the crew based on his skill sets.

As Mack walked off with a frustrated look on his face, Mark walked up to you. You had your eyes closed, taking a few deep breaths before turning back around. “Mark! How's the best head engineer doing? What can I help you with?” you said, a smile replacing your before upset face. ‘What the hell was that switch?’ he thought.

“Are you ok? You seem frustrated-” 

“Me? Frustrated? Pft- yeah right.” you said, waving a hand at him  with a smile, looking off to the side. “Mack could never get me frustrated, he’s just trying to prove something and fix his bruised ego because he's not captain.”

“I never said anything about Mack-”

You looked back over at Mark, a look of concern on his face. “I- you- you didn't?” you said. “Nope, not a word. You brought him up.” he said, you humming in response. “Well then.” you paused. “Trust me when I say I'm fine and can deal with him myself.” you said, walking back to the main control panel. “Everything will be fine”

Mark wondered if you were telling him or yourself that.

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

“Captain, i'm just saying, if we add more crew to the ships, things will get done much more quickly. We could start getting settlements built-”

“Thank you Mack, it will be noted-”

“All i'm saying,” he continued. This had been going on for the past 10 minutes. Couldn't he just give it a rest? “Maybe you need better judgment? I think i'd be able to lead this mission much better than-”

“You know what, Mack? Maybe you could. But guess what. You aren't! You're Not the captain of this ship. You are an engineer. That's your job. So why don't you Park your ass back in line where it belongs, and get back. To your. Fucking. Job. M’kay?” you say, Venom dripping from each word, stepping closer as you spoke,  giving him a smile that made you squint as you did. 

Mack looked terrified to say the least, mumbling out a ‘yes captain,’ before speed walking away, keeping his eyes glued to the ground. 

Mark watched from the other side of the room, a few of the other crewmates that were there keeping to themselves, not wanting to test your patience, it being clear you had run out. Mark stepped up cautiously, as you kept your eyes shut again, composing yourself from your outburst.

“C-cap? You uh, you alright?” he said, resting a hand on your shoulder, making you relax slightly. “I’m fine, Mark. just- lost my temper there. I'm alright.” you said, giving him a small smile.

He patted your shoulder, saying he had to get back to repairing things, but as he walked away, he thought one thing.

‘That was kinda hot.’

======================

Sorry its a bit short! hope this is alright!

[sleepysnk]

here is the sequel to jaegerbomb is streaming! i hope you all enjoy ♡!

Jaegerbomb Has a Guest

Pairings: Streamer!Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cursing, small nsfw mention if you squint

part one.

"Fuck! Oh my god bro,"

Eren leaned back in his chair seeing that he just died again in the game he was playing. He had lost for the third time and he was getting extremely annoyed, a few people in the chat were telling him he was okay and he didn't need to get mad; but it was Eren.. he always got mad.

He grabbed his controller before looking at the chat. "What are you guys up to right now?" he asked. 

Eren put his attention back onto the screen, entering another round of the game he was playing. 

He pressed a few buttons on the controller and scanned his eyes over the targets he had to kill, it was a zombie game everyone was suggesting and he couldn't get past this certain round. It was pissing him off.

He started to press the buttons at a quicker pace but unfortunately, he died again. 

Eren slammed the controller onto his desk. "Bro what the fuck! This shit makes no sense, I'm done. Wack ass game," he said, rubbing his temples. 

He looked over at the chat to see people messaging him.

jaegerist3452: eren just lay off for a bit

iloveeren_: eren is mad again guys

erensimp43: damn it ain't that hard

jaegerbombfan20: better luck next time eren!

He sighed, "It is hard what do you mean? Man.. you don't even know," he said before shaking his head. 

A knock came from the door, Eren averted his attention to where his bedroom door was; he heard it open a bit and saw his girlfriend standing in the doorway. 

"Is everything okay?" she asked in a whisper. 

Eren removed one of the earmuffs to hear her better. "Huh? Oh, yeah I'm fine baby." 

She rocked on her heels. "You were yelling really loud and I thought you were mad," she giggled. 

He smiled a bit, "Nah don't worry.." he replied before looking back over at the chat. 

jaegerist45: who was that eren?

iloveeren1010: who were u calling baby?

erensbiggestfan1083: you guys heard that too?

jaegerist3452: omg do u have a gf?

jaegerbombfan20: wait.. weren't u dating that y/n girl? or weren't u talking?

Eren chuckled a bit, "Yeah I have a girlfriend guys.. but I don't think I want to make it known just yet who she is because I don't know if she's comfortable with that," he replied.

He looked over to see (Y/N)'s head cocked to the side. "Do they know?" she asked in a whisper. 

He shook his head, "She's pretty amazing though," he added with a grin. 

erensimp34: wait then what happened to y/n?

jaegerist45: why should it matter? maybe they stopped talking

jaegerbombfan20: idk it's just weird.. she was always in his streams and now she isn't.

iloveeren1010: they probably just faded maybe i dunno

Eren was getting amusement from the chat, it was true that (Y/N) had stopped coming to streams; it was because she lived with Eren now and she was his girlfriend. 

"I dunno what happened to (Y/N).. she and I don't talk very much," he replied, running his fingers through his hair. 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully, Eren was such a sick bastard for that. 

jaegerist45: oh shit 

erensimp43: well damn, i guess shit happens 

jaegerbombfan20: awe :(( omg 

"Yeah I dunno.. but don't worry guys, I bet she's doing well," he smirked, his eyes flickering up at her. 

Eren streamed for another 30 minutes before he decided to get off and chill with (Y/N), he didn't stream as long as before because he wanted to spend time with her. 

"Babe!" Eren yelled as he exited his bedroom. 

He found (Y/N) sitting at the kitchen table, she was on her phone. Her attention averted towards Eren, "Hi baby," she said.

He came over and kissed her head. "Hi princess.. what are you up to?" he asked, nodding his head. 

She sighed, "Not much, I'm just on Instagram. Did you finish your stream?" she asked. 

Eren went towards the fridge and grabbed a water bottle. "Yeah I did.. I wanted to spend some time with you," he replied, taking a sip of the cold drink.

She smiled a bit, "You don't have to babe, really. But I meant to ask," she said. "Are you ever going to tell your fans about me?"

Eren twisted the cap back onto his water bottle. "Yeah.. I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it. I remember you told me that you wanted things to be private, so I respected that."

(Y/N) remembers at the beginning of their relationship when she told Eren about the privacy thing. She was still in college and she didn't want a huge amount of people rushing to her and asking about Eren, it made her feel shy and a little anxious. 

"I mean.. maybe we can be a little more public, you know?" she said, chewing her lip. 

Eren nodded, "Don't worry about it baby, I'll make it known that we're dating." he replied. 

-

Eren was up streaming at the moment, he was playing Minecraft and his fans were enjoying the way Eren kept yelling if there was a creeper or a zombie nearby.

"Fuck y'all who decided that hardcore was a good idea, I am gonna have a heart attack," he said, his eyes narrowing a few times while staring at the screen. 

He looked at the chat then back at the screen, his mind was too occupied with the thought of dying in the game than answering questions. 

He didn't even notice (Y/N) walk in. 

She was leaning against the wall, she was surprised seeing her boyfriend so focused on a game. It was different than seeing it on a stream, it was kind of cute.

His eyes flickered up, he jumped a bit seeing her there. "Shit.. babe, what are you doing here? I didn't even hear you," he asked, putting his hand on his chest. 

She walked over quietly, "Are you busy?" she asked. 

He looked at her, "Uh not really, I'm just streaming and playing some Minecraft. Why? Is something wrong beautiful?" 

A few people in the chat began to send in messages. 

jaegerist3452: ooo eren's girl is here

jaegerbombfan20: we should meet her eren!

iloveeren1010: can we meet her Eren? 

erensimp43: did u guys see how soft his face got when she showed up? THAT WAS SO CUTE.

iloveeren_: that's so cute, can we see her eren? PLEASEEEE

He looked towards the screen. "I would love to introduce her guys, but I dunno if she's ready. She's a little shy," he replied, smiling at (Y/N).

She giggled a bit, "I'm not that shy! I'm just a little awkward.." she whispered. 

Eren chuckled, "I mean.. they somewhat know you," he whispered.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Maybe it is time Eren.." she mumbled, looking away from him. 

He shook his head, "Do you guys really want to meet my girl? No gross shit! I'll block you," he said, looking at the camera. 

jaegerist3452: YESSSS

erensimp43: i'd love to see her

jaegerbombfan20: of course eren!

jaegerist45: i'm down i guess

bigerensimp292: sure!!!

Eren muted his mic before walking over to (Y/N). "Are you sure you want to baby? You don't have to," he asked, cupping her cheek. 

She fidgeted with her fingers. "I do but.. what if they make fun of me? I don't even think they know what I look like.." she mumbled. 

Eren tilted her chin upwards. "Princess.. you are stunning, okay? If anyone is rude to you I will whoop their ass," he said. "Okay? You'll only be there for a few seconds."

(Y/N) took a deep breath. "Okay.." she whispered. 

He leaned down to kiss her cheek. "I'll go turn off my camera and then I'll have you sitting on my lap, okay?" he said before making his way towards his setup.

"Okay!" she replied. 

Eren sat down in his chair. "Hold on a sec you guys.. I gotta get the special lady ready," he said, turning off the camera. 

iloveeren1010: this is exciting OMG

erensbiggestfan1083: why do i feel like he's gonna bring an animal in or something

jaegerbombfan20: she's lucky 

jaegerist3452: eren hurry ur ass up i wanna see her

(Y/N) stood in front of Eren, her heart thumped in her chest. "I'm really nervous.." she said, chewing her bottom lip.

Eren held her hand, "Come here.. just take a seat." he said, patting his lap. 

She positioned herself onto his lap, Eren adjusted her legs and kissed her head. "Here we go.." she whispered. 

Eren fixed his mic, "Alright.. no rude shit, okay? If I catch any of you horny fuckers saying something I'll block you," he said. 

(Y/N) watched Eren turn the camera on, she could see herself on his other monitor. "Hi.." she said, waving a little bit. 

Eren kissed her cheek lovingly. "This is my girlfriend.. (Y/N)." 

The chat suddenly began blowing up with messages. 

jaegerbombfan20: OMG OMG IT'S Y/N!!!!

jaegerist3452: I FUCKING KNEW IT OMGGGG

iloveeren1010: she's so pretty Eren!!!

jaegerist45: well would u look at that, you got a winner Eren

erensimp43: AWWW Y/N IS SO CUTE HOLY SHIT

erenswife4938: i had a feeling it was her but u guys are so adorable 🥺🥺

(Y/N) giggled as she read the messages. "Thank you guys," she said, a smile forming onto her face. 

Eren drew circles into her thigh. "Yeah she's amazing.. I'm so glad I found her," he said, leaning his head by the crook of her neck. "Be nice okay guys? She's a little shy," he added. 

jaegerist3452: i love this so much 

erensbiggestfan1083: what a simp

iloveeren1010: i shipped it so much from the beginning! i'm so happy for you Eren!!

jaegerist45: GO ERENNN

jaegerbombfan20: eren she's so pretty

Eren looked at his girlfriend. "They think you're pretty babe," he said, smiling. 

She felt her cheeks growing warm. "Thank you guys, really." she replied. 

Eren snuggled her body closer to his, the warmth radiated onto her skin. "She is really pretty.. she's the prettiest girl I've ever seen," he said. 

A smile formed onto her features from his words. Eren was always a sweet guy, he always had ways of making her feel like a princess. 

jaegerist3452: how do u feel about y/n?

"Babe you got a question," she said, nudging his arm.

Eren leaned up a bit to read the question, his eyes narrowing a bit. 

"How do I feel about (Y/N)? Shit.. do you wanna know?" he asked, his eyes averting up towards his girlfriend. 

A bunch of people began spamming yes. Eren decided to answer the question.

"Well being honest.. she's the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me. I usually don't go after fans but she was different, I couldn't ask for a better person in my life, I love (Y/N) so much, she doesn't even know how much she means to me. I'm convinced she's my soulmate.." he said, his heart hammering in his chest. 

(Y/N) smiled, she felt like she could cry from what he said. 

jaegerbombfan20: that is so cute 🥺

jaegerist3452: AWWWW

erensimp43: that's so adorable OMG <3

"I love you.." Eren said, looking up at (Y/N).

She put her arms around his neck. "I love you more baby.." she replied, pecking his lips. 

He smiled, his eyes were full of love and happiness. "You make me so happy.. I'm convinced you're my soulmate," he said. 

She cupped his cheek, "You're definitely the one for me Eren.." she whispered. 

He peppered her face with kisses, laughter began to escape her mouth when his lips touched the skin of her face. 

"But yeah guys.. this is my girlfriend," Eren said, a smile on his face. 

erenfan3281: do u dick her down good?

"Okay that's where I end the stream! Goodnight guys!" Eren said before clicking the button to end the stream. 

(Y/N) giggled a bit, "Was that necessary?" she asked. 

He looked at her, "Duh! That's weird to ask.." he mumbled. 

She leaned her head onto his shoulder. "It is weird.. but you do dick me down good," she said, a smirk forming onto her features. 

Eren raised a brow, "Oh? Is that so? I knew I always did." 

She hit his arm playfully. "Shush! But since your stream is over.. Can we cuddle up? I missed you.." she asked, a pout obvious on her lips. 

Eren took off his headset. "Of course we can princess," he replied, kissing her head. He tapped her thigh, "Go lay down and I'll join you in a sec," he added. 

(Y/N) stood up and stretched a bit, she heard a few of her joints cracking as she moved her body around. She made her way to the bed and lied down on the sheets.

Eren turned off his computer and walked to the bed where she was, he smiled seeing the way her body was spread on his bed; the sight made his heart swell. He lied down next to her, opening his arms which she gladly leaned into. 

"Eren..?" she said, her voice in a whisper. 

He looked down, "What's up?" he asked.

"I love you.." 

"I love you more beautiful.."

tagging: @levithestripper

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (1)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 3.5k warnings: heavy focus on Bucky’s PTSD/anxiety, the first splinter in the wall around Bucky’s heart 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

This was a bad idea. A monumentally bad idea.  

Bucky closed his apartment door behind him, pausing for a moment at the top of brownstone steps as a chill of autumn air swept by. Brittle to the touch, cool on his skin, it nestled into his spine and ached deep in his bones— in ones that had been long abandoned, too. The sun reflected against the shine of the pavement from last night’s rainfall, forcing Bucky to squint his eyes.  

Was it always so bright outside? Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t left his apartment for nearly a week before Sam threatened to turn him over to Steve that he’d forgotten how unpleasant the streets of New York could be. Loud. Cold. Chaotic.

He stepped onto the sidewalk, slipping out of the path of a jogger who nearly ran him over and had the gull to flip him the bird. Bucky groaned, curling his right hand into a fist and digging it deep into his pocket as he tried to calm the sudden racing in his chest. The free arm of his army jacket swung down by his left side, empty.  

Not even a few steps outside the sanctuary of closed curtains, warm bedsheets, and the unattended static of a decade old television, and Bucky was already regretting ever knowing Sam Wilson.  

Bucky turned towards the busy street ahead, staring up at the hustle of pedestrians and rush of taxis for a moment longer before he dared to take a step. His feet felt remarkably heavy and he had more than half a mind to tell Wilson to shove it and head back up to his apartment. He had better things to do than make a completely unnecessary trip to the VA.  

What those things were, he couldn’t say, but they didn’t make his heart feel like it was about to beat straight out of his chest. He could stare at a wall for a few hours, for example – see if he could find the crack in the drywall again and follow it to the ceiling.  

“Don't be a coward, Barnes,” Bucky grumbled to himself, earning a strange look from an elderly woman as she passed by. Her eyes held on him longer than she should; clearly a woman who had little shame in her degradation of strangers. 

He gritted his teeth and commanded his legs to move. Those worked, at least.  

As he made his way to the main street, his palm started to sweat inside his pocket. He could see his breath in every tense exhale, and still, he was boiling hot under his jacket. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d remove it, because even with a sleeve hanging loose off his shoulder, he could at least keep up the pretense there was something inside. People would have to look twice before they realized. Wasn’t so easy to hide a missing arm in a short sleeve shirt.  

Still—he was thankful as he weaved his way upstream through the crowd that he wasn’t as broad as he used to be. A couple months' worth of weight loss, diminished muscle mass, and one less limb will do that do a guy.  

He used to be the sort of man that women would glance at as he passed by. Charming smile. Infectious energy. He could make a woman bite shamelessly at the edge of her bottom lip with a single trail of his eyes along her figure. Extend a hand, offer a drink and a dance. He used to hold confidence in every ounce of his body.  

Now, he kept his eyes on the pavement. He hid from the sun and the curious looks of strangers under the brim of a baseball cap. No one looked twice in his direction. He was invisible these days and that was just the way he liked it.  

By the time he reached the VA, he was surprised to find it a little less than pristine. The windows were dirty with handprints and smudges, the window panes covered in soot. A few of the roofing panels were missing from harsh New York winters. Even some of the outer brick wall had seen some weathering.  

Though, if he were honest, it wasn’t usual at all. Made some sense that the VA was left to wash and wear on its own, deteriorating in front of a busy street of onlookers, right out in plain sight. It was how Bucky felt after he’d come home from his last tour— discarded. Placed upon a pedestal, but only as long as you wear the uniform, only as long as you’re staring down the other end of a barrel. Once you’re shipped back home and cast out from desert, you’re made to fend for yourself. Pull up your bootstraps. Adjust.

Bucky wasn’t sure how to do that anymore. Sam insisted this would help. The people at the VA were good, he’d said. They were like him. They’d understand.  

While Bucky was suspicious, it was enough to drag him a couple blocks from his apartment. It was more than he’d done in weeks anyway. Sam would put on his makeshift shrink hat and call that a meaningful step. Bucky would call it pathetic.  

He stared at the double doors, focusing on dark red rust on the metal hinges. He wondered if he put enough pressure on the latch if it would snap clean off. It looked sharp on the edges, too. Someone could easily cut themselves on it if they weren’t careful—

BEEEEEEP!

A jolt surged through Bucky’s chest enough to nearly knocked him off his feet.  

Sudden flashes of a sweltering heat, the unnatural vibration of the desert under his feet. The car horn echoed into the back of his head, longer than it should have, and his ears started to ring. His vision felt tunneled and Bucky quickly stumbled his way through the double doors just to escape the blare of the horn outside.  

It took a minute to adjust to the dim lighting. It was darker inside than what he was expecting. He blinked a few times, hand resting on the wall to hold his balance as he looked around, shaking himself from the memories.  

Lamps were spread throughout the common room to offset the abrasive overhead lighting left untouched. Bucky started to wonder if he maybe it was on purpose, if he wasn’t the only one who had become sensitive to these things, when Sam walked into the room.  

He froze.  

“Holy shit!” Sam’s mouth rose up into that goddamn know-it-all smile, wide enough to show teeth and the dimples in his cheeks, and Bucky winced. Sam started to laugh as he crossed the space to where Bucky was standing. “I didn’t think you’d actually come!”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky shrugged, “I’m here. Don’t make this a big thing.”

“Who me?” Sam scoffed, feigning offense. “You know Steve’s the one who’s going to blow this up. He might throw a welcome party if you ever show up to the support group.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “That’s not happening.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Sam nodded, though he was still smiling. He looked almost... proud? It didn’t sit well in Bucky’s stomach. “Still, got you out of that cramped apartment, didn’t I? You open those curtains yet or are you still living like a vampire?”

Bucky glared at him. Sure, Sam was right... but he didn’t need to know that.  

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Sam put a hand on Bucky’s back to guide him down the hall.  

He was only one of two people Bucky tolerated touching him at all and he was lucky he didn’t flinch anymore. Even an innocent touch from his own mother when she tried to hold his hand after he came back from his final tour had nearly left him in a panic attack. She’d cried as Bucky desperately tried to gather his breath, shoving her away as if she’d burned him.  

Sam and Steve didn’t give him much of a choice. They didn’t handle him with kid gloves or treat him like he was about to break. Even if he was splintering at the seams, you’d never be able to tell with how Sam and Steve were around him; like old times, like nothing had changed, like they were still three kids dressed in fresh uniforms with chips on their shoulders and a whole new world ahead of them.

After a while, the small pats on the back and the nudges in his side became a small comfort; not that he’d tell them. It was a strange feeling to both be repulsed by touch and crave it. But the topic didn’t come up much these days outside of his friends anyway. No one tried to touch him and he didn’t seek it out. It was easier that way.  

“The kitchen’s over here,” Sam said as he pointed into a room that had likely once been covered in white tiles and appliances, though now resembled more of a pale yellow. Two men were hunched over at the table, nursing coffee out of Styrofoam cups as a woman waited eagerly by a toaster.  

“Everything in there is free rein,” Sam added. “Always stocked with food from donations, though I would make sure to check the expirations on the milk before adding it to your coffee.” He shivered at an unpleasant memory and Bucky found the edge of his mouth curl, though he suppressed it rather quickly. 

The next room was mostly empty save for the wooden lined floors and chairs folded up against the wall. A sheet covered the small window peering inside that read ‘group in session when closed.’

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sam started, to which Bucky narrowed his eyes, “but I’m not going to force you into the support group, Buck. You go when you’re ready. If you ever are. Talking about this stuff, or even listening to it... it isn't for everybody. Steve will get that, too. We all find our outlets eventually. You’ll find yours, too.”  

Bucky nodded, a swell of relief in his chest. He’d been forced into a mental evaluation by the army docs shortly after his discharge; something about routine testing, but he knew what they were looking for – what all those shrinks were looking for – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  

The nightmares came first, soon after he’d returned to the States. It started in screams that burned deep into his throat, waking up neighbors at two in the morning, finding blood in his bed from injuries he’d caused in his sleep. Lately they’d manifested into sweat drenched in his sheets and a heart rate that couldn’t seem to even out until the sun rose.  

Then came the jumpiness – the flinching at every loud noise, thinking it was a bomb or the latch of a safety. He’d broken more glasses than he cared to admit, knocking them straight of his hand at the sound of a gunshot on the television.  

Then the paranoia settled in, then the hypervigilance. The anxiety in crowds and tight spaces was new, though. Add it to the list, he supposed.  

Through all of it, he never let the shrink catch on. He’d put on a smile and tell them he was proud of his service, that he’d serviced his country with honor and he was thankful to return to the civilian side of things for a change.  

It was bullshit.  

He was pissed. He lost an arm and half his mind to a war that recruited him young and idealistic right out of high school, when he was looking for a better life than what his neighborhood could offer, to put food on the table for his ma and sister. Pissed was understated.  

He wouldn’t find himself in Steve’s group; of that he was certain. You don’t talk about those things after you leave the desert. Hell, you barely acknowledge them while you’re there. It’s just how it works. It’s how you deal with it. Bucky didn’t allow himself to consider whether his method was doing him much better.

Sam walked him through the common areas, the lounge space, even a room with a pretty decent sized television and a shelf filled with DVDs. It was a nice enough place. Quiet. But so was his apartment.  

“Now this is the best room in the house.” Sam opened a door on his left, the hinges squeaking under an old wooden frame as he stepped inside.  

Bucky followed in closely behind and was surprised when a subtle scent of pine brushed his senses. A small candle was burning at the center of a coffee table, surrounding it were a few couches, all with mismatched fabrics, laid upon a carpet that looked to have been donated from an estate sale. The walls around him were lined with shelves, though they were completely empty. Cob webs hung in the corners and dust lined the wood.  

What caught his eye was a single cart at the edge of the room. It was filled with books, all in bright colors on the binding and tags from the Brooklyn Public Library piled high on top of one another, far beyond the confines of the cart itself.  

“Y/n? Where you at, kid? We got a newbie!” Sam called, nudging Bucky in the side with a playful wink he did not return.  

A figure suddenly jumped from behind the couch with a book in hand covered in layers of dust and crumbs. The sudden movement forced a flinch deep in Bucky’s chest, his breath held tight in his lungs, though he kept himself firm on the surface, like stone. It took a minute before he realized how tight he’d barreled his fist and he slowly released his grip before Sam could notice.  

“Been looking for this one for over a year!” you exclaimed, holding up the book for Sam to see. You brushed off the cover, restoring the original vibrant hue of the artwork. “Can’t even imagine the overdue fees I’ve racked up on this sucker...”

There was a strange lightness in your voice Bucky didn’t expect, a tenderness and a sunshine that didn’t belong amongst the dark overcast of the men and women who occupied these rooms. It certainly sat in dangerous contrast to the gravel and stone in Bucky’s voice and the clouds that usually followed in his wake.

He glanced down at his clothes as you approached; a pair of old ripped jeans from a few years ago, a faded t-shirt, and his army jacket hung over his shoulders. Dull and raggedy, ripping at the seams.

But you? Dressed in the warmest shade of a red knit sweater, a gentle glow on your cheeks, a softness about your movements, you resembled the sort of sunset at the end of a highway one would stop the car to capture on film. Inviting. Tender and ethereal. Lovely.  

You stepped closer and he noticed the knees of your jeans were covered in dust, your palms too. Messy in the pursuit of happiness, like a child on a playground. You didn’t seem to mind the dust as you brushed it off your knees, holding the found book close to your chest like an extension of your own heart.

“Blame it on Lang. He's always losing stuff around here,” Sam offered as you set the book on the cart. You started to laugh and swatted Sam in the arm. A pout perched on your lips, though it didn’t seem to last long. Your laugh was infectious.  

Bucky swallowed as he watched you; the way your smile wrinkled up into your eyes as if a face like yours was drawn and designed to curve at the lips and push dimples to your cheeks. It shined into the bright hues in your irises and Bucky wondered if you would keep smiling like that forever, if it were possible that he could stare into the sun and not be burned; if instead, he could find warmth in its embrace.  

His heart stammered, his breath shallow, but it wasn’t unpleasant like it had been on the busy streets. It was something new, a sensation he hadn’t had since before he signed his name to a cause that took his arm and his dignity.  

Y/n, Sam had called you. It was a beautiful name. He didn’t know if he could even find things beautiful again after what he’d seen overseas. You were the first, he supposed.  

He must have been staring too long, because your lips were moving to words he didn’t hear, and suddenly two pairs of eyes were on him. His heart skipped, frozen in embarrassment.  

“This must be your first day of school,” you teased, extending your right hand to him.  

Bucky stared down at it, heart pounding, and before Sam could politely tell you that Bucky didn’t really do that sort of thing, he pulled his hand from his pocket and shook it. You had a firmer grip than he was expecting, but still soft. Your fingers were like ice and it was a nice contrast to the swelter he felt under his jacket.  

Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised by Bucky's sudden willingness to take the hand of a stranger, though thankfully he didn’t say anything. A shit eating grin curved up upon his lips and that, Bucky could have done without.  

“Thought it was time I checked it out,” Bucky said, his voice a little dry. You let go of his hand and Bucky found he missed the contact almost instantly.  

“Dragged him here by the skin of his teeth is more like it,” Sam interjected and Bucky’s ears burned red. He shot Sam a glare, who only shrugged, unbothered by his humiliation of his friend. “Been trying to get his sorry ass through the door for a few months now.”

You nodded, though your smile never wavered. Your eyes remained on Bucky, listening to Sam, but intently studying the lines on Bucky’s face. It left him feeling exposed, but somehow, even as his own gaze trailed to the floor, he didn’t mind you watching him like that, like maybe you found worth in what you saw. He adjusted his stance, suddenly remembering the startling absence on his left.  

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now,” you said, brushing Sam off in his teasing. “I’ve been volunteering at this place for a little over a year. We got good people here. I’m sure you’ll fit right in...” you paused, biting on your lip.  

“Bucky,” he offered because he could tell you were waiting for it. You smiled at his name and a sense of pride burned bright in his chest. God, if he could just make you smile like that again...

“Bucky’s a cool name,” you grinned, though Sam rolled his eyes. “That short for something?”

“Don’t lie to the new kid, Y/n. We all know it’s corny as hell,” Sam interrupted playfully before Bucky could get a word in. You wacked Sam on the shoulder and Bucky felt the edges of his lips curve. It felt strange, achy, like he hadn’t done that in a while. Maybe he hadn’t.  

“Buchanan,” Bucky answered, though he quickly added, “but my first name’s James. James Barnes.”

“Well, James Barnes,” you started, exchanging a knowing look with Sam that made Bucky’s stomach twist in knots, “I run a book club of sorts on Sunday evenings around six. You should swing by. We’re always looking for new members.”

“Y/n works at the Brooklyn library most days,” Sam explained. “We’re lucky to have her. Never thought I’d see so many tattooed men with biceps the size of my head sitting in a circle talking ‘bout books, but Y/n works magic. Everyone loves her. Helps that her book club is pretty unconventional.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Unconventional?”

Sam started to say more, but you pouted your lips at him and he left the words on the edge of his tongue. He held up his hands in defense and took a step back, returning the smile to your face.  

“Don’t listen to him,” you said, laughing so sweetly Bucky was sure his knees might give out at any second. “It’s a good time, I promise. No pressure at all.”

Bucky nodded, considering his options. The idea of seeing you again could make the walk down to the VA worth it, but he wasn’t sold on the concept of sitting in a room full of ex-combat vets probably using a shared book as a proxy for a support group. He wondered if you had them reading something about PTSD or adjusting to civilian life or a memoir of some guy embellishing his time overseas to make a quick buck.  

But he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, so he asked, “what are you reading?”  

You shrugged. “Depends on who you ask.”  

Bucky raised an eyebrow, confused.  

“Just think about it,” you suggested as you unclicked the lock at the bottom of the cart. The front wheel was broken and you struggled to get an angle to move in the direction you pushed it. “I should head back to the library. It was really nice to meet you, Bucky. I’ll see you later, Sam.”

Bucky nodded, finding himself searching for something else to say, some kind of excuse to get you to stay longer, but came up empty. You smiled at him, all bright and starry eyed, and his knees felt weak again. Shit.  

“Don’t let Stark talk your ear off on the way out,” Sam warned, a laugh in his voice.  

“I think I know my boys around here by now, Samuel,” you teased back. Bucky couldn’t quite tell if it was a pang of jealousy in his stomach or an eagerness to be included. It was a strange rush of feelings he hadn’t tapped into in years; not necessarily unpleasant, but certainly unfamiliar.  

You paused by the door, turning back and capturing Bucky’s eye one last time. “Sunday at six, alright? I’ll see you there.”

He didn’t say anything, but you seemed to take his silence as confirmation. You gave him a final wave before you disappeared into the hallway. He could hear the click of the broken front wheel on your cart echoing down the hall.  

Bucky and Sam followed you out of the room and hung back by the makeshift library doors.  

“What did I tell you!” Sam cheered, nudging Bucky hard enough on the side to knock him off his balance. He was too fixated on watching grumpy old men and stone-faced women pass by in the hallway with smiles on their faces as they saw you.  

“It’s, uh, it’s not bad.” Bucky waited until you disappeared out the front doors and onto the busy sidewalks before he turned to Sam. He was watching him with a sort of I-told-you-so look that made Bucky want to slap the dimples straight from his face. “...what?”

“Nothing, man.” Sam shrugged, though there was something lingering in the smirk he wore, like maybe he knew something Bucky didn’t.  

He didn’t care for that one bit.

[ghostly-cabbage]

Party In The Graveyard (Shiptember 2021 : Drunk)

It’s a day late but heres the Danny x Wes fic I wrote for @ghostgothgeek ‘s Ship Event!! Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Language, Underage Drinking, Mild Suggestive Themes Additional Tags: Post-Reveal, Aged Up Characters, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Getting Together

Summary: So, here’s the thing; Wes never wanted to have a fucking house party, okay? This was all stupid Kyle’s stupid idea. Kyle isn’t even in highschool anymore. He graduated last year. But he invited his whole college freshmen class, and just about everyone from the senior Casper class. And it's just getting better and better. Why? Because about half an hour ago, Danny Fucking Fenton walked in.

--

Or a fic in which Wes sees Danny getting shitfaced and says, "Is anyone else gonna take care of him, or?" and then doesn't wait for an answer.

Words: 6,233

Ao3

“I take back all my poor words. Talk is cheap, but my mind is rich When I close my eyes You grab my wrist, And pull me in to your cold dead lips”

So, here’s the thing; Wes never wanted to have a fucking house party, okay? 

This was all stupid Kyle’s stupid idea. 

Kyle isn’t even in highschool anymore. He graduated last year. But he invited his whole college freshmen class, and just about everyone from the senior Casper class. 

And it's just getting better and better. 

Why?

Because about half an hour ago, Danny Fucking Fenton walked in. 

He walked in like he owned the goddamn place and the reaction went through everyone like a Whoop—like some kind of synchronized celebration of a miracle. 

What, just ‘cause everyone knows he’s Phantom now? 

Give him a fuckin’ break. 

Currently, Wes is standing adjacent to the fridge, nursing a god-awful drink Kyle shoved into his hands before disappearing back into the throng. 

Lighten up, bro, he’d said. 

Yeah. 

Sure. 

The music pounds through the house—a heart beat—a fucking jack-hammer. 

People talk and yell and spill their drinks on just about every surface that can stain. 

A cheer goes up from the dining room and he rolls his eyes. 

He slams his drink and focuses on the outdated calendar on the side of the fridge to keep from shuddering. It makes his mouth water, burns the whole way down and Jesus, seriously, what the fuck did Kyle put in this? 

He throws his cup at the overflowing trash can. 

His cheeks feel warm, but not even a buzz touches the wound up feeling in his chest. 

He passes through the dining room, stops to watch Danny and Dash shotgunning sixteen ounce Mike’s Harder cans. From the looks of the table, they've already gone a few rounds.

Danny finishes five whole seconds before Dash. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and crushes his can. 

“Slowing down already, Baxter?” he says, a smug grin plastered across his face. His shoulders are slumped and he talks just a bit too loud.

Dash finishes his and tosses it over his shoulder, which—cool. Fucking nice, what, does he think they have a fucking maid? 

“In your dreams, Fenton. We're just getting warmed up. No way I'm getting out-drank by a twig like you, half-ghost or not.” 

“Guess we’ll see.” Danny shrugs. He talks like he’s one of those people, has always been one of those people. 

Wes rolls his eyes and is just about to slip out of the room when— 

“Ohhh shit! If it isn’t the one and only Wesley Weston!” 

Fucking hell. 

He turns and levels as unimpressed of a look as he can manage at Danny. 

“Imagine that. It’s almost like I fucking live here.” 

Danny swipes up a plastic cup and then proceeds to walk through the table towards him. People act like they’re finding out all over again. 

“Oh come on, Wes. You’re not still mad are you?” He comes up to him and slouches against the archway’s frame. 

Wes scrapes his tongue along his teeth. “Mad? What could I possibly be mad about?”

Danny looks at him like a puzzle. 

When he talks his voice is quiet, hard to hear over the music. “I dunno, the fact that you knew all along but no one ever listened? They thought you were crazy and you weren’t but no one's even said sorry?” His lips quirk up at the corner and Wes can smell the artificial black cherry dancing on the top of the alcohol in his breath. 

He wrinkles his nose and it has nothing to do with the smell. 

“I was being facetious, prick.” 

Danny smiles bigger, and his eyes glitter, something doe-eyed.  

“Right. So you are still mad?” 

He pushes air through his teeth. 

“Not like it matters,” he says, looking away from Danny, drifting over the room. “Where’s your chaperones? Weird to see you anywhere alone.” 

Danny just stares at him for a few seconds before understanding sparks. 

“Ah. Sam’s got a family thing. Tuck took a closing shift.” He waves a hand and his head lolls against the wall with a thunk. He lifts the cup to his lips and takes a swig. 

Everything about him looks heavy. It’s weird for Danny.  

“Have you tried the jungle juice your brother made?” he says. “It sucks. You’ve gotta try it.” 

Wes lifts a brow and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“How many’ve you had?” 

Danny looks down into his cup, swirls its contents. It’s silent for several seconds too long. 

“I’m not really sure, honestly. Didn’t know I was supposed to keep count.” 

Wes slides a hand down his face. 

Jesus Christ. 

“Listen, maybe you should slow down—”

“Yo! Fenton! Stop flirting with Wes and fucking get over here, we’re not done.” Dash calls across the room and— 

Flirting?! 

They weren’t fucking flirting. 

What the fuck.

Wes’s face heats up far beyond the liquor in his veins. 

Danny looks up and flashes Dash a thumbs up. And then Danny is even closer—grabbing his arm. The chill of his hand goes right through to his stomach. 

“Hey,” he breathes, “come watch me outdrink Dash.”

“Why would I wanna do that?” He ignores the way his breath flutters in his lungs, the way he feels light all the way to his toes.

Danny smiles like what he’s about to say is a secret—like it’s just for him, and all of a sudden Wes wants to be as far from Danny as humanly possible.

“Isn’t watching Dash lose at something for once reason enough?” 

Wes forces himself to keep breathing and he swallows. 

“Fine,” is all he can force out and then Danny is dragging him towards the table. He ignores all the people looking at them. 

The fragmented group of A-listers cheer again and Dash slams a bottle of Fireball onto the table, making people's drinks jump and slosh. 

“Let’s kick it up a notch, shall we?” he says, grin just shy of evil. 

“Where’d you get that?” Wes asks. 

Dash cocks a brow. “Paulina found it? Duh.” 

God, Kyle really wasn’t joking about getting people fucked up. 

Wes is not going to clean up anyone’s puke this time. This shit is all on Kyle. 

“Dude, is it even cold?” Danny asks. 

“No, it wasn’t in the freezer long enough,” Paulina says. She’s drinking from a champagne flute for some fucking reason. He didn’t even know they had those. 

“Gimme that,” Danny says, swiping it from Dash. “No way in hell I’m drinking warm whiskey.” 

His eyes glow blue, and when he breathes out its a thin vapor. Frost creeps over the glass and Wes can’t help but shiver.

“Dude, fucking wicked. I’m still not over this,” Dash breathes, clapping his hands together. 

How could Wes forget that Dash is Phantom’s number one fanboy after all?

But Danny isn’t looking at Dash—he’s looking at him. 

Only it’s different this time. Because before it was always a taunt, blatantly rubbing it in Wes’ face when he used his powers and no one else noticed.

But the way Danny is looking at him now… like he’s waiting for something, thinking about something.

Danny hands back the Fireball and his eyes slip away from Wes and he feels like a fish wrenched from water. 

What the hell was that? 

“Fuck yeah, Fenton.” Dash unscrews the whiskey, flicks the cap off the mouth with a finger, sending it flying. He pours directly into their cups, the liquid glugging through the frosted neck of the bottle.

“Two shots of vodka,” someone says and everyone laughs.

“No chasers?” Danny asks, eyeing his cup. 

Dash puts down the Fireball. “What’s the matter, you scared of the burn?” 

“Not a chance,” he says, and holds out his cup to Dash. They cheers each other and then they’re throwing it back. 

It sinks in his stomach like a rock. There’s no way this ends well. 

.

It’s on the sixth round of Fireball that Dash starts to look green. He sets down his cup and leans on the table. He stares at the clear storage container of jungle juice and Kwan comes up beside him, pats his arm. 

“Dude, maybe you should call it.” 

“I’m fine, ‘s fine…” His words slur together. He tries to stand up straight and Kwan and Paulina both have to keep him up right. 

Danny laughs. “Not lookin’ great, Baxter,” he says, his own words falling sluggishly from his mouth. Danny goes to lift his cup to his lips again and Wes puts his hand over it. 

“Nope. You two are done.” 

“Come on, Wes. Don’t be a buzzkill. I’m good!” Danny says. “Dash is the one that lost!” He flings his hand towards Dash and knocks the Fireball over, spilling it all over the table.

The group all crows at once, a choir of “oh shit” “nice one” and “duuuude noooo”’s. A few people rush to grab their phones from harm's way.

Danny blinks at the table. “Oops,” he says. 

A smile splits his face and he starts chuckling. It builds from him, a laugh, something outside of him—beyond him. 

He laughs until he’s doubled over, holding onto Wes to keep himself stable. 

“Yeah, that’s it. You’ve had more than enough.” He grabs Danny’s cup from him before he can spill that too and drinks it himself. The cinnamon burns through his sinuses and he shudders. Ugh. 

Danny straightens and sways just a bit, stumbling into him—their faces inches apart.

“Hey, that was mine,” he says, voice twisted in a pout. “Not cool.” His breath is cold, thick with the smell of whiskey. 

Wes feels frozen, feels like he can’t breathe. 

His heart pounds in his chest and he prays Danny isn’t so close he can feel it. 

Around them the choir starts again, a chorus of suggestive “ooo”’s. He can feel their eyes on him and it makes his skin crawl. 

Fucking dammit, this is all Fenton’s fault. 

He pushes Danny away from him. Not fast or rough, just to arms length. He coughs. 

“Star, you should go to the kitchen and get them both some water,” he says. 

She gives him an annoyed look. 

“I don’t see you doing anything else,” he snaps. 

“I’m drunk too, you know,” she says, but gets up and leaves towards the kitchen. 

Paulina and Kwan coax Dash into a chair, and he puts his head down on the table, groaning. A few others are sopping up the Fireball with paper towels. 

Danny sags in his grip, goofy smile still plastered all over his face. 

“I’ve never been drunk before, this is awesome,” he says. 

Wes rolls his eyes, and maneuvers Danny into a chair. His head lolls back and he stares at the ceiling for a second before perking back up and trying to go for someone else's cup. 

“Dude, I’m serious.” Wes moves the cup out of his reach. “Quit while you’re ahead.” 

Danny groans, sinking down in his chair like he’s boneless. 

“Come on, Wes,” he says. “You think I don’t know my own limits?” 

“You just said this is your first time being drunk.” 

Danny blows a raspberry. 

Star walks back into the room and hands Wes a glass of water and then slides one across the table at Dash. 

“Here. Wanna drink? Drink this.” 

“Ugh, fine,” he says. 

He’s a few swigs into it when he stops. 

“God, it’s hot in here. Is anyone else hot?” And before anyone can answer his eyes glow that bright blue and a chill works through the air, plummets the temperature. 

“Danny—” Goosebumps rise over Wes’ skin and his breath fogs from his mouth. 

At varying levels of exasperation, the people around cry out. 

“Dude, cut that out,” he says, smacking Danny’s arm. 

“Ow, why are you hitting me?” 

“Because you’re being a pain in the ass.” 

Danny looks at him, blinks heavy eyelids. He smiles. 

“What.” 

“Nothing, you just… You’re cute when you’re all annoyed sometimes.” 

The ground feels like it opens up underneath him. 

His thoughts screech to a stop. It smells like burnt rubber, like cinnamon and black cherry. 

It’s just the alcohol. No fucking way Danny of all people would say that to him. 

“You really are drunk,” he says, but his voice sounds off kilter. 

Across the house the last song fades out and Usher’s Yeah comes on. People scream and cheer. 

“Holy shit, I love this song,” Danny says and stands up. He sways and catches himself on the edge of the table, starts laughing again. “Whew, that was close. The spinning is normal, right?” 

Fucking Christ, how did he end up on babysitting duty again? He rubs his temples. 

Is he really about to do this? 

“You should lay down.” He heaves a sigh. “Come on.” 

“Jeez, Wes, that's pretty forward,” Danny says, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Heat flashes through him. 

“Would you just shut up,” he hisses. “And stop making it cold. Jesus.” 

Danny snorts and when he moves from the table he wobbles. Wes grabs him before he topples and slings Danny’s arm over his shoulder to keep him up. 

Danny leans into him, almost unbalances them.

“You got a problem with the cold, Wes?” he says, this time his cold breath is against the side of his neck. It sends chills down his spine. 

“I don’t have to help you, you know,” he says, voice thick. “You can get alcohol poisoning for all I care.” 

“You’re a bad liar, Wes.” 

Wes yanks Danny along beside him and out of the dining room. 

“Shut up, Danny. You’re drunk.” 

He hauls Danny past the living room and the knot of people dancing and singing. A few call out to them, ask them to come have fun. He steers them away before Danny can pull away and join them. 

“But I wanna have fun, Wes,” he whines. 

“Dude, you can’t even stand without my help right now, you really wanna try dancing?” 

“Dance with me, then.” 

Wes stops. He looks over at Danny and… 

He— 

He blinks, shakes his head.

“No, not—not right now,” he mumbles. 

“There’s a whole reason I came alone, you know,” Danny says. 

“What, so you could get fucked up and no one would stop you?” 

“Yeah! I mean… well, that’s part of it.” 

Wes guides them towards the stairs, ignoring the looks. 

“Your house is bigger than it looks from the outside,” Danny says. 

“Thanks?” 

“Mmhm.”

God. This is so not what he thought tonight was going to be like. 

“Where are we going?” Danny asks. 

“Somewhere you can lay down and sober up.” 

“Tha’s not vague.” 

Wes starts pulling Danny up the staircase. The second floor is dark, and he gropes around to hit the light. 

The first few steps are fine, which is to say the next steps aren’t fine. 

What he’s saying is that Danny says, “oh shit.” 

And then he’s falling—pulling Wes down with him. 

More accurately, Danny trips and pulls Wes down on top of him. 

They end up in a heap and Danny groans like someone does when they fall on the fucking stairs.

“Ow.” He reaches for the back of his head. Then he’s laughing, like it's the funniest goddamn thing in the world, what just happened. His face screws up, the face of someone who doesn’t know he’s in pain, just pretending.

“Seriously?” Wes snaps. His shin smarts—must have hit it on the stairs. 

“Sorry, sorry.” He laughs each syllable. “You good?” 

“No, I’m not—” And he looks down and he realizes how close they are. Realizes the way Danny’s hair falls into his face, the light catching the slope of his jaw. 

Danny quiets at the same time and it’s like they get stuck there. Like nothing else exists other than this staircase and this moment and the way Danny feels cool and solid like a summer night underneath him. 

“Hey,” Danny says—sounds almost breathless. “Come here often?” 

Wes rolls his eyes and just like that the moment is over. 

“Ugh.” He pushes himself up, detangles himself from Danny. 

Danny reaches for him, that stupid smile back on his face.

“Oh come on, Wes,” he says. 

“Quit messing around, dude.” 

Danny pushes himself up, runs a hand through his hair and Wes tracks the motion with his eyes against his best wishes. 

“You’re so mean. I could have a concussion and this is how you treat me?” 

Wes stands up and straightens his clothes. “You’re fine.” 

Danny gives him a look and then something sparks in his eyes. “I’m going to text Sam and Tucker and tell them how mean you are to me.” 

Psh. He says that like they don’t already hate him. 

“Would you just get up?” 

“These stairs are actually kinda comfy,” he says, head rolling back, sinking back down and closing his eyes. “I think I’ll just stay here.” 

Wes kicks his leg. 

“You can lay down in the room. Get up.” 

Danny heaves a sigh, throws an arm over his eyes. 

“Fiiinnneee.” He pulls himself up by the handrail, stops in a sitting position. “Jesus,” he says, voice just above a whisper. His breathing gets weird. It makes Wes pause. 

“You okay?” 

“...Spinning,” Danny breathes. He’s quiet for a bit, and Wes just lets him sit there. Danny holds his head in his hands for a while.  

Worry creeps into the back of his mind. Maybe Danny wasn’t kidding about the concussion thing. Maybe he should get someone— 

Then Danny is standing up and Wes steadys his other arm. 

“I got you,” he says. “Feeling okay?” 

Danny sends him a weak smile. “Yeah. Laying down does sound good though," he mumbles.  

They make it up the rest of the stairs, and Danny leans against the wall as Wes opens the door to his room. 

It’s dark and quiet inside and he flips on the light. 

He helps Danny in, and he flops face first onto his bed. He groans and rolls over. 

“I’m thinking those last few shots of Fireball were a bad idea…” 

Wes snorts and closes the door softly behind him. 

“Oh, just the last few, huh?” 

“I was havin’ fun, smartass,” Danny grumbles. 

Wes leans back against his dresser and crosses his arms. “I said you should have stopped but noooo, no one listens to Wes.” 

It gets quiet and he can feel the heaviness in the air. He clears his throat. “If you throw up in my bed, I’m kicking you out the window.” 

“I’m not going to throw up.” 

“Famous last words, Fenton.” 

“Shaddup,” Danny says, and it gets quiet. 

Wes can feel the bass from the music through the floor, the muffled sound of singing, laughing, talking. He’s used to ducking out at parties early. He’s used to laying in bed and listening to the songs through the walls until the voices slowly fade and the house is empty again. He listens to Kyle stumble up to bed and knock into the walls and yell “I’m okay” when he does.

He’s not used to having… company. 

Danny sits up like a puppet on too few strings. He makes a frustrated noise.

“It’s still hot,” he sighs. 

“It’s the alcohol, dude.” 

Danny runs his hands over his face, and then reaches back and starts pulling his hoodie off. It drags his shirt up with it and Wes can’t help but look. He looks at the multitude of scars staining Danny’s skin and the way his muscles move over his ribs and—he pulls his gaze away and studies the floor instead. 

“This is your bedroom, huh?” 

“Yep.” 

“Doesn’t look how I thought it would.” 

Wes wrinkles his nose. “How'd you think it would look?”

Danny takes his time looking around the room, hoodie pooled in his lap, before he looks at Wes and gives a boneless shrug. 

“I dunno. More,” he holds his hands up, splays his fingers, “raah!” 

“I… don’t know what that means.” 

“You know! Like… newspaper-clipping red-web on all the walls,” Danny says, smile creeping back. 

Wes squints at Danny. He pushes off his dresser. 

“That’s still all you think of me?” He picks a pillow from his bed and throws it at Danny’s face. Danny lets out a yelp. 

“Besides, I took all that shit down when the truth came out anyway,” he says, trying and failing to keep the inkling of a smile from his voice. 

Danny looks at him blankly for a second before he starts to smile again. 

“Wait, was that… Did you just make a joke?” 

Wes snorts. 

“You did! Holy shit, Wes has a sense of humor, this is bigger news than my shit. I gotta tell everyone.” 

Danny looks soft, sitting like this in the middle of his bed, eyes warm in a way Wes didn’t realize they could be. 

Something in him loosens. 

“Good luck getting people to believe you…” he says. 

“Oh, how the turn tables,” Danny says, and for a bit all they do is smile at each other. 

Danny looks away first, he glances up at the light and squints. 

“You got a light that isn’t so fuckin’ bright?” 

“I thought the light sensitivity was supposed to happen the morning after drinking.” 

“You’re full of jokes tonight.” 

Wes rolls his eyes and flips on the bedside lamp and then shuts off the overhead light. 

Danny hums and flops back down. “Better,” he says.

It’s silent for a few beats and Danny lifts his head to look at him. He smacks the comforter a few times with a flat hand. 

Wes blanches; he’s all too aware of himself, of Danny and the dim light and the closed door. 

“Dude, chill,” Danny says, like he can read his mind—wait, he can’t actually do that, right? Ghosts can’t do that? 

“Sit down or something. You just standing there watching me is creepy,” Danny says. 

Wes swallows his own heartbeat, shakes his head. “Seriously, between the two of us, I’m not the creepy one.” 

“Says the stalker.” 

“I didn’t stalk you.” 

Danny gives him a look, with raised eyebrows and everything. 

Wes sits on the side of the bed, scoots back so he’s leaned against the headboard. 

“I was… investigating.” 

Danny laughs. “Sure, dude. Whatever you say,” and his voice is like smoke—hickory and rough but winding through the air like silk.  

They fall into an amiable silence, cotton soft, but cold. Danny has an arm over his eyes again, and his breathing is so slow it’s hard to pick out from the music downstairs. 

He rakes a hand through his hair and takes out his phone. He unlocks it and scrolls mindlessly for a while. 

He can’t focus. 

Not with Danny so close like this. Not when everything is different now. His mind drifts off and he tries to keep track of every breath, wonders if he’s fallen asleep— 

“Hey, Wes.” 

He jumps. Just a little bit. 

“Y-yeah?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He puts his phone down. 

“...For what?”

“For making everyone think you were crazy.” 

Wes twists his hand in his comforter. Why the hell is Danny apologizing to him? After everything he’s done to him… tried to do to him. It gets stuck in his throat. 

“It’s… You don’t have to—” he wishes he’d had a few more drinks. 

“Nah. I do. Looking back, I didn’t handle you knowing very well.” 

He chews on his lip. He’s never felt so out of place. 

“Danny…” 

Danny moves his arm and looks up at him and his courage almost shrivels. 

“I’m the one who should apologize. Not you. I—” He balls his hands into fists. “What I did, trying to basically out you, that wasn’t… that wasn’t okay.” 

“You didn’t know the whole situation.” 

“Did I need to? It was still fucked up and. I’m sorry. I was so wrapped up in wanting to be right that I didn’t care what it could have done to you.” 

It feels like glass coming up from his throat. 

He’s lost sleep, engraved in the ceiling all the ways he fucked up, all the times he's glad now that no one listened to him. His eyes feel hot and there’s no way in hell he’s going to fucking get emotional in front of Danny. 

“It all worked out in the end,” Danny says. He says it easy, gentle. “You were still technically right, though, so… There’s that.” 

Wes huffs. “Yeah. I guess.” He fights through all the mess. “I don’t know how this didn’t happen sooner though. You were terrible at hiding it.” 

Danny props himself up on his elbows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude, I'm a great liar.” 

Wes leans his head back on the headboard. “Sure, but you’re reckless as hell. How many times did you stick your arm through your locker in front of God and everyone?” 

Danny smiles wide and bright. 

“Honestly, after a while, it was just fun to see how far I could go before anyone noticed.” 

Wes can’t help but chuckle. “Pretty far, obviously.”  

“No kidding.” 

Wes runs his palms over his jeans. 

“You’re good though, right?” Wes looks anywhere but Danny. “At home and all that.” 

“Oh. Yeah. It was, uhm, a lot for my parents. But we’re getting there.” 

“Good… That’s good.” The words feel sharp and blocky, and he doesn’t know what else to say. What else can he say? 

His buzz pulls away from him, pulls him down, makes his lids heavy. 

“How do you think Dash is doing?” Danny says. 

“Pf. If he isn’t hugging a trashcan right now, I’ll be shocked.” 

Danny laughs. 

Wes leans over onto some of his pillows. 

“How are you this okay after drinking all that?” 

Danny shrugs. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m feeling it. My guess is something to do with the healing factor ghost shit.” 

“Right, makes sense.” 

He feels tired and heavy and the darkness at the corners of the room get fuzzier. 

“Paulina brought her own champagne glass,” Danny tells him. And he laughs because, who does that? 

He rolls onto his back and they stare at the ceiling.

“Are you kidding? Paulina does that, it’s Paulina,” Danny says. 

They stare at the ceiling like it’s not a ceiling, like it might become more than just ceiling. Wes imagines it disappearing completely.

Danny likes stars, doesn’t he? 

When Danny talks again it’s like he’s far away. An arms length, an atmosphere’s length… he doesn’t know. 

Danny says, “sucks that I’m missing the Super Smash Tournament.” 

Wes tries to keep his eyes from slipping shut. The bed pulls him like quicksand, the smell of sleep. “Trust me, dude, Kyle always wins anyway.” 

Danny says something, something about who he mains or doesn’t main. It becomes all the same, the sluggish rise and fall. 

At some point between light and dark Wes decides that he likes the sound of Danny’s voice. He somehow likes that the room is colder than it usually is. 

And maybe somewhere between all that he decides some other stuff too. 

— 

Wes wakes up before Danny. The sun streams in through a gap in his curtains, pooling on the wall and floor.

He doesn’t have a headache, but his neck hurts like hell. 

Danny is lying on his side faced away from him and, fuck, thank God. He thinks about last night, about Danny in his arms and he— 

He sits up and rubs his hands over his warm cheeks. 

Water. He should get some water. 

He slips out of his room and goes downstairs to the kitchen. The house is quiet. 

Well. 

Mostly. 

He can hear the sink running and the clink of glass. When he comes around the corner he sees Kyle washing dishes. The house is only half as trashed as he thought it’d be. 

Kyle looks up at him as he walks in. 

“Morning.” 

He grunts, going to pluck a clean glass from the drying rack. 

“Hangover?” 

“Nah. Slept wrong.” He fills his glass at the fridge and downs it all at once. The water helps wash the sour taste from his mouth. Ugh, he should still brush his teeth. 

He fills the glass again and heads back upstairs. He pushes back into his room and when the door creaks he sees Danny jump. 

He walks around the bed and offers the glass to a squinting Danny. 

“Awake?” he asks. 

Danny groans and pushes himself up. His hair is messy, hanging in his eyes. It's infuriating. 

He rubs the side of his face and when he takes the cup their fingers brush. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs. 

“We have pop-tarts and cereal and shit downstairs.” 

Danny gives him a thumbs up while he drinks. 

He wants to ask if he’s okay... He decides to leave it for later. 

Wes leaves his room and goes back to the kitchen. When he gets there, he pulls the pop-tarts down from the cabinet. 

“So, here’s what I’m thinking,” Kyle says, “if you wanna clean the dining room, I’ll clean the living room.” 

“Nope, no. This was your thing, dude. You threw the party.” 

“But Wes,” he whines, “Dad’s gonna be home tonight.” 

“Then you should probably get started,” he says and claps him on the shoulder on his way to the toaster.

“Dude, cold blooded. You’re just gonna watch me slave away for hours and not even help your own brother?” 

“Uh... yeah.” He slots the pop-tarts into the toaster. He turns towards Kyle and leans against the counter, grinning at him. 

Kyle gives him a look. 

“How much.” 

“No. No, I’m not gonna be bought this time.” 

“Twenty bucks.” 

“Kyle.”

“Fine, you drive a hard bargain. Forty.” 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“‘This time?’ What happened last time?” 

They jump and look at Danny as he comes down the stairs. He has his hoodie slung over a shoulder and the half empty water glass in his hand. 

“Holy shit,” Kyle says. 

“It’s not important,” he says, sending a glare at the back of Kyle’s head. 

Danny walks up to the counter and sets the glass down to pull his hoodie on. 

“No fucking way,” Kyle says, voice pitched up. “I didn’t believe it when everyone was talking about it last night, holy shit.” 

Danny tugs the hem of his hoodie down and gives Kyle a confused look that he moves over to Wes.

He returns the look, just as lost.

“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?” 

“You two hooking up last night,” Kyle says, like it’s obvious.

It feels like for a second time stops—  

Hooking up?

Hooking up?! 

His heart skips in his chest and heat rushes to his face and the tips of his ears. He feels like he’s been slapped across the face.

Danny looks like a deer in the headlights. 

“Uh—” 

The toaster pops. 

“Which, can I just say, I totally called it. I knew there had to be another reason Wes was so obsessed with yo—” 

“Kyle!” he snaps, his voice higher than he anticipated. “Kyle, oh my fucking god, shut up. We didn’t— Nothing happened last night, we just—”  

His breath feels tight in his throat and he wants to lock himself in his room forever. He can’t make himself look at Danny. 

“Who the hell told you that-that we—” 

“Uh, dude, a bunch of people saw you guys go into your room together. You know Pualina was telling me that Danny was all over yo—”

“Okay! Thank you, Kyle!” he cuts in. “Jesus fucking—” He buries his face in his hands. 

This is it, this is how he’s going to die. 

“I’m just glad for you two! I mean, like, jeez, finally!” 

“Kyle, I’ll help you clean if you shut up right now and never bring this up ever again.” 

Kyle stops, face lighting up. “Dude, deal.” 

“Cool. Now please leave.” 

“What?” 

Wes grabs him by the arm and starts dragging him out of the kitchen. “Leave. Go get the cleaning shit from the garage or some shit, I don’t know.” 

“Oh. Ohhhh, I see. I get you. I’ll leave you two kids alone to enjoy your breakfast together,” he says with a wink and holy fuck, he’s going to kill his fucking brother.

Kyle heads for the stairs and calls down, “Lemme know when it’s safe to come back down!” 

Wes drags his hands down his face. He lets out a slow breath and he tries to ignore his pounding heart. 

Wes goes to the nearest counter and puts his head down. The surface is cold against his burning skin. He groans like an injured animal and at this point he really wishes someone would put him out of his misery. 

“Well…” Danny says from behind him.

 He hears Danny moving and the sound of the fridge being opened. He looks up, watches as Danny takes orange juice from the fridge. When he turns around he sees his face is red too. 

“I mean… hardly the worst rumor to get spread around about us,” he says. That stupid smile makes its way onto Danny’s face. 

“I once had this dude tell everyone at school that I was a ghost. It was super weird.” 

Wes shakes his head. “Dude, shut up.” But he can’t help the grin that pulls at his lips. 

Danny laughs, a quieter thing today than it was last night. 

“I can have some, right?” he asks, lifting the OJ. 

“Yeah, it’s fine.” 

They fall into silence while Danny pours a glass and Wes goes to numbly retrieve his pop-tarts. 

“It’s probably spread through all of Casper now, huh.” 

Danny glances at him. Something dances through his expression. He hums as he takes a drink of his juice. 

“Uh. Probably further than that, now that everyone knows I'm… you know.” Danny shoots him an uneasy look.

Right. Right. 

This was just getting better and better. 

He takes a bite of his pop-tart. It crumbles in his mouth like sand. 

“Are you… okay?” Danny asks. He reaches back and rubs his neck, and dammit, now he’s just adding insult to injury. 

He looks at him, and he sees the nerves in the way he holds himself, stitched into the way the light hits him. He’s not asking just one question.

Wes swallows. 

“Yeah… Yeah, I mean, like you said. There could be way worse rumors,” he says. He looks at Danny like he’s too far away, like he enjoyed last night way more than he should have. And he sees it in Danny too, some sort of mirror. 

“I think so too,” Danny says, heavy the way he exhales it. 

They break eye contact and Wes doesn’t really know what to do, what to say. 

“Well, uh. You have cleaning to do, I guess. I should probably get home before my parents get too freaked out.” 

Wes nods. “Yeah, probably.” He wonders if Danny knows what’s in his voice. The dark from last night is clouding his mind, pulling him, begging him to just say it.   

“Yeah… I’ll, uh, see you at school?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Cool.” 

But Danny doesn't move. 

He lingers like a shadow. He looks like he wants to go. He looks like he wants to stay. 

“Wes,” he says. 

Wes looks at him.  

He worries at his bottom lip and moves along the counter towards him. 

“Thanks. For last night.” 

He lets out a puff. “Well, someone had to make sure you didn’t die the rest of the way from alcohol poisoning.” 

Danny rolls his eyes. 

“I wasn’t that bad.” 

“You were pretty bad.” 

“Not even.” Danny smiles.

And they’re close again, sharing each other's space. 

“It wasn’t… awful, I guess,” he says before he can stop himself. “Even with you being a pain in the ass the entire time.” 

“Maybe we could do it again sometime,” Danny murmurs.

“What, me looking after your drunk ass the whole night?” 

Danny snorts. “No, I was thinking more like I match you drink for drink instead,” he says. 

“At least then you’d last till the Smash tournament.” 

Danny glances away. 

“I didn’t mind missing it too much, actually.” 

Wes’s breath gets stuck and his heart beats like a drum in his ribcage. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah…” 

In some ways it’s just like last night; Danny’s close enough he can feel the movement of his breath between them. 

“It’s way more fun, bothering you.” 

It’s a slow motion sort of thing, a hair raising thing. 

“Well you’re an expert at it by now.” 

Wes thinks about theme parks. Sitting at the top of the sky and just before his stomach drops—

“Always room for improvement. I could get better at it if you want me to.” 

And what if he does? What if he wants to see Danny in all the ways he can? What if he wants to know Danny for real this time?  

Maybe he wants pictures, proof that it’s real. 

Maybe it’s always been leading to this. 

Maybe it’s fucked up. 

Wes having the power to hurt him all over again. 

“Drink for drink?” he says, barely a whisper. 

“Drink for drink,” Danny says—closer, closer, breath against his lips. 

Danny gives him time to pull away. But Wes doesn’t. Something to do with what he decided last night.  

“Prove it.”

[perpetually-exhausted-and-tired]

Copy&Paste (Series)

Part 3: The Initiation

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader, Bucky x Fem!Reader

Words: 1183

A/N: NSFW. References to alcohol, adult situations. Please let me know your thoughts :) reblogs are appreciated! Please tag me if you use my art! I do not own Marvel etc etc

Part 2

“Well what is it?” You try not to let them hear the quiver in your voice. You pluck at the red hair band on your wrist as Tony talks into his watch before he slowly looks up at you.

“You have to marry everyone in the room.” On queue, Natasha snags the princess hat off your head and replaces it with a bridal veil.

Your jaw drops open and your wings deepen into a bright pink. “What!?”

Steve chuckles at your reaction and walks over to you, patting your head to calm you down. “Jeez, Tony, I swear you say it like that just to get a rise out of our new recruits. Please explain to y/n what exactly that means.”

“Jarvis, did you get the photo?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark. Photograph of miss y/n acquired, sir.” Tony looks at the picture that pops up on his watch and laughs.

“Sorry, Lady Longlegs, it was just too funny not to capture. Alright! Rules—so what do I mean? You are going to ‘marry’ everyone in this room. After picking the happy couple’s drink of choice, we will duct tape your hands together with the drink, only freeing you both when you finish. Voila! And so you have been married—”

“Wait, so you’re taping both of my and whoever’s hands to a bottle??”

“No, no. Just one of each. It’s like you’re holding hands. Romance, am I right? Anyway, so in order to complete your initiation, you must do this with everyone in the room. If we untape you and the bottle is unfinished, you will pay a small consequence.”

“Which is…?” Tony smirks, and it makes your heart speed up.

“Let’s just say we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

The rest of the Avengers have gathered around and cheer you on, half of them tipsy as hell. Bruce and Clint have mixed and matched their costumes, with Bruce looking utterly ridiculous with a flamingo hat on and his green feather boa now wrapped around his waist like a stylish belt from the ‘80s. You’re honestly excited for the ‘initiation’ and wonder what consequences you might face.

“Alright! Brains before beauty, and seeing as I am both, I will be going first. What’s it gonna be Lady Longlegs?” You purse your lips together at the drinks on the table, deciding on a coke and rum. “Coke and rum? What are we in high school—no offense, Peter.”

“I’m in college now!” Peter yells back.

“Figured the captain would want some rum before this ship sinks. I’m looking for a short marriage, Tony.” Tony rolls his eyes at your shit eating grin, realizing you’re making a jab at him since he’s slightly shorter than you.

Clint messily wraps the duct tape around your hands and everyone cheers as you and Tony “get married.” You make sure to keep the side of the glass you sip on as far away from Tony’s, as to be mindful of Pepper. She was the one who encouraged Tony to take you in and you’d never want to take advantage of her kindness.

“Sheesh, you sure can drink y/n.” Tony rips the tape off your hands as everyone cheers. “Yes, yes, let’s cheer for this divorce of two people, simply not meant for each other. Who’s next!?”

Clint quickly grabs a Moscow Mule and links his fingers with yours. “To y/n!” He announces, about to chug the drink while holding your hand.

“It doesn't work that way, Legolas. You gotta tape your hands together and drink it TOGETHER.” You laugh as Clint barely gets tape around your hands. You take the opportunity to down the drink as he bickers with Tony.

“Wow, Clint! You drank so fast!” You tease as he smiles at the empty cup, unaware of what really happened. He stumbles next to Tony, who is three seconds away from telling Clint the truth.

Steve steps next to you, quickly selecting a small bottle of water. “Wowza, what a gentleman, Cap.” Tony confiscates the tape from Clint and tapes you two together himself.

“Just want you to pace yourself,” Steve smiles. “Last time we did this, it didn’t go too well.” He glances at Peter who’s making sure Clint and Bruce don’t knock over the cake. “Plus, I think you’d like to remember this night.” You tilt your head to ask him a question and he winks, quickly chugging the rest of the water and ripping the duct tape off in one swift motion.

Everyone’s dispersed around the room, so as to not make you feel rushed—however, still keeping an eye out and monitoring for when it’s their turn. Wanda, smiles at you and walks over.

“Y/n, would you like to get married?” She smiles a warm smile at you, picking up some Schnapps. “I think you’d like this one.” You notice how small Wanda is and can’t hold back the giggle that escapes your lips. Wanda looks up after carefully wrapping your hands together. “What is so funny, y/n?”

“I’m sorry it’s just. Please don’t take this the wrong way. You’re just so small and it’s so cute!” You can’t stop giggling, “I could just pick you up.” Fortunately, Wanda isn’t offended and laughs along with you, very well aware of the height difference between you two. Suddenly you both stop laughing, an idea crossing both of your minds.

“What if you pick me up—”

“Bridal style???” “Yesss!”

Unfortunately, you two realize, that’s rather difficult with your hands taped together and a drink on top of that. You both attempt to down your drink, not realizing there was a little left at the bottom when you untape yourselves. As you pick Wanda up, you both are too busy laughing to realize Bucky’s checking your cup.

“Tsk, tsk, y/n. You didn’t finish your drink.” Handing a happy Wanda off to Vision, you turn to Bucky in disbelief.

“What are you talking about,” you giggle. “We finished it all, Sarge.” Your wings start shimmering again.

“Is that so?” Bucky walks towards you, gently holding your chin. His warm, firm hand makes you shiver. “Then open your mouth.”

Your pupils dilate as you look into his eyes. He smirks and licks his lips. “What if I don’t want to?”

As if waiting for you to say that, Bucky leans into you, whispering, almost growling into your ear, “Then I’ll make you.” He quickly kisses and sucks gently on the flesh of your neck right behind your ear, eliciting a small moan from your lips. Bucky takes the opportunity to put the cup to your lips and pour the rest of your drink in. “That liquid you feel in your mouth right now is your unfinished drink. Princess.” Your eyes widen, your cheeks turning a bright red. Bright red because you moaned and thank, GOD, the music was loud enough to cover the sound. And bright red because you realize, that isn’t Bucky.

Suddenly ‘Bucky’ transforms into Loki, who slips a hand around your waist, so as to not let you run away. “Uh-oh,” the God of Mischief announces, “It appears our dear, y/n has an unfinished drink!”

Part 4

Tag list:

@marialopezzz0922

@buckylokisimp

[justkending]

A Little Party Never Killed Nobody...

                              1700 Follower Drabble!

A/N: Oh goodness gracious!! I’ve hit 1700 beautiful and loving followers. Everyone of you bringing more and more light into my world:’) In honor of you all helping me fulfill my dream as a writer and supporting me along the way, here is a little drabble for all you sweet humans. I can’t thank you enough, and I can’t express my love for each of you enough as well... 

-So, I stole from my prompt list on an old challenge I did and created a drabble of my own with them! Hope you enjoy my lovelies<3

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 5000+

Prompts:

“I actually did my hair for the first time in 3 months. I think I deserve a medal for this. “

“Dude, it’s 3 in the morning.”

____________

The banging was loud and profusely consistent as Y/N sat up from sleep with a groan. She sent a death glare to the door as if it was the culprit to waking her, but she knew it was one of her teammates that would soon be dead...

“What?!” she said bitterly, quickly tearing open the door. 

Bucky was on the other side with a slick grin showing his amusement to the situation. Her hair disheveled from sleep and eyes filled with hatred, but the sports bra and tight sleep shorts were doing something for her in her annoyed state.

“Mission. Be in the helicarrier in bay 3 in 20 minutes,” he said with a smirk before turning in his step to walk away.

“Dude, it’s 3 in the morning!” she shouted after him.

“Evil doesn’t sleep,” he responded without looking back.

All he heard from behind him was a strangled groan mixed with a muffled scream as she went back in her room and slammed the door. 

____________

The last to board the helicarrier, Y/N walked in throwing her things to the side, and sat in a seat immediately falling to her side to fall asleep again.

“Wake up, Y/N. We have to do a briefing,” Bucky said, slapping her boot. 

“I swear to God. Do you have a deathwish?” she growled, begrudgingly sitting up and rubbing her eyes. 

“Really not a morning person this one,” Nat laughed coming around the corner. Y/N sending her a glare as well, but not nearly as deadly as the one she saved specifically for Bucky. “Come on. We’ll make it quick, and then we have a 4 hour flight. You can sleep then,” she nodded toward the briefing area of the giant plane. 

Taking a deep breath she stood up following the rest of the team with Bucky behind her. 

“Cicely Rosmarie DeLuca. Daughter of Ramone DeLuca who is a well known crime boss in Italy. Seems to run in the family as Cicely has taken over the control of her family's business within the last 2 years,” Steve explained pulling up pictures on the screen as everyone sat with informational packets on the group in front of them.

“Since when did we start handling crime bosses?” Sam spoke up.

Everyone who had been on this particular mission included; Nat, Sam, Bucky, Steve, Y/N, and Wanda. So if this many Avengers were needed, clearly something much bigger than just crime bosses were involved. 

“Because the DeLuca’s are working with a division group of Hydra. We think they aren’t really in it for what Hydra wants, but more so gaining the alli and making some money on the side,” Steve sighed. “It looks like they have a means to steal plans that could wreak havoc on confidential equipment that we have in the works. Stuff that could easily be modified to become world wide dangers.”

“I have an idea,” Y/N spoke up. The whole crew turned to her. “Let’s just stop creating things that can destroy planet Earth. I feel like that’s a healthy start to creating the safe environment we’ve been fighting so hard to preserve over all these years.” The grin on her face was big and sarcastic and quickly dropped to a bitch face. 

“You can’t help but be a smartass all hours of the day, can you sweetheart?” Bucky groaned a few seats ahead of her. The pet name only there because he knew how much it annoyed her.

“And you can’t help but be a nuisance to my life all hours of the day, can you jackass?” she retorted. 

“You guys. Focus,” Steve interrupted, sending the two his Captain look. “You’re going to have to get along for this mission because we’re going undercover, and we only have one night to get this right.”

“Undercover how?” Wanda asked. 

“There’s a gala in Venice. From what we’ve gathered, the information will be swapped there. We need to hunt it down discreetly and capture the agents working with Hydra. From there, we’ll bring them in for questioning and figure out where exactly they are getting their information from. We believe we have a spy within our facility that’s leaking all the confidential knowledge.”

“And if these Hydra agents happen to do what Hydra does best and kill themselves before we can get anything out of them, then what?” Y/N asked. 

“Ever the optimist,” Bucky mumbled. No one else paid mind to it, but Y/N kicked the back of his chair making him turn and send yet another glare at her.

“We’ve prepared for that,” Steve said, nodding to Nat to go to the next slide. “We have devices, drugs, and antidotes in case cyanide becomes involved. The capsules of drug and equipment being used incapacitates them long enough to get them back to our base and keep in holding. From there, we will take other precautions to keep them from doing anything stupid that involves cyanide. Again, we don’t know if that will be the case, but with our history with Hydra, they have yet to prove us wrong.”

“So basically, you’re bringing us to go to a party to roofie Hydra agents. I gotta say, not what I was expecting from our high tech division,” Y/N nodded with a small laugh.

“It’s the best way to keep discrete and not cause a scene or hopefully any fatalities at the gala. They are using a charity for cover, and I rather not actual good people get hurt in the end,” Steve sighed. “Now, we land in 3 and a half hours. Once landed get your gear ready, look over your profiles, and get prepared for the gala. Like I said we are going undercover, so look your best.”

“This doesn’t happen to be a black tie gala, does it?” Bucky asked. 

“What gala isn’t?” Sam retorted. 

“Suits are already ready to go in the other room. Ladies, our dresses are in section 11 of the ship,” Nat explained, standing and gathering her things. “Y/N, that means you're going to figure out how to walk in heels,” she smirked. 

“I think we’ll need more time than you’re giving us for that to ever be convincing,” Bucky snickered. Sam laughed too. 

“Oh, shut the fuck up. I’ve done missions like this before. Just because I don’t wear an evening gown everyday, doesn’t mean I can’t pull one off,” she stood, walking by and flicking the back of Bucky’s head. 

Her, Nat, and Wanda leaving the room while Bucky held the crown of his head in vexation. 

“Son of a-” he started going to stand and retaliate. 

“Buck, I’m going to need you to pull it together for one night,” Steve said, cutting him off from his path to harass Y/N. “You and Y/N are teammates. So either put on a face or suck it up for the night.”

“I’m not the one you need to be telling that too. The she-witch in there is going to be the one to mess it up if any of us,” Bucky argued.

“Y/N is a well trained spy and the best marksman on the team as of right now. She will do her job and you’ll do yours. You have to let the petty fighting go for one night, ok?”

“Come on Cap. You know it’s more than just petty arguments. Bucks gotta crush,” Sam said singing the last words.

With wide eyes, Bucky turned to Sam. “I do not! She’s nothing but an annoying headache added to my life... Scratch that. Migraine.”

“That’s what someone with a crush would say,” Sam said with a grin and squinted eyes. 

“I don’t have a-” Bucky started.

“Hey Cap. Nat needs you real quick,” Y/N said poking her head back in. Everyone turned to her as if they just got caught doing an illegal act and stayed silent. “Did I walk in on something?”

“No,” Steve shook his head. “I’ll be there in a second.” 

She nodded before giving everyone a furrowed eyebrow in confusion as she left. “Weirdos,” she mumbled walking away.

Steve let out a deep sigh. “Just behave yourself tonight. If you do, Y/N will too.” He walked to leave the room. 

“Yeah, right,” Bucky scoffed. 

“Yeah, your 100% smitten,” Sam laughed walking past him out of the room.

“No, I’m not!”

__________________

The time had come. Everyone was prepared. Lookouts were in their designated spots, any tech that was being used was up and live, and everyone was about to meet at the Gala. 

“Ok, Nat, you’re with me tonight. Sam and Wanda you two will be with each other. And Bucky and Y/N, you two will be partners as well,” Steve explained over the coms. 

All the women had arrived just a few minutes later and the men were already scoping out the place.

“Wait, what?” Bucky responded back. Sam standing next to him.

“Oh, he definitely did that on purpose,” Sam chuckled. 

“Why the hell would he? We don’t work well together,” Bucky groaned, looking around for her. 

“Well, you better figure it out. At least for tonight,” Sam patted his back, taking a champagne glass from the passing waiter and moving to find his chosen partner. 

Bucky rolled his eyes into another dimension thinking about the all annoying arguments that he was sure would be apart of the night.

“Fine, Y/N what are you wearing?” Bucky asked in the comms.

“James, I’m flattered, but I don’t really like you in that way,” her sass came back through the ear piece. 

“Steve,” Bucky groaned. 

“Guy’s stop it. Y/N tell Bucky what you're wearing so we can start this mission. We don’t have all night,” Steve instructed with irritation. 

“A black dress,” she sighed. 

“Wow, real descriptive. Let me just search through all 500 of them I see,” Bucky said sarcastically. 

“I’m by the rip off Vincent van Gogh painting on the east side. Next to the waterfall,” she explained. 

Bucky took a deep breath walking over in her direction. It was a really crowded place, so maneuvering through people to find her became difficult. That was until he reached the fountain she was talking about, and the people had thinned out some. 

Glancing all around, he couldn’t pick her out from all the black dresses he’d seen. 

“Y/N, where the hell are you?” he whisper shouted in the comms. No answer. “Of fucking course no answer,” he said to himself. 

But upon sharper inspection, he noticed her face in the distance. 

And holy shit. 

That did not look like the Y/N he was used to. I mean it did, but she was usually a natural beauty. Not that she wasn’t right now, but done up the way she was was a whole different kind of beauty. 

Her dress was a black off the shoulder evening gown. The middle section of it was a see through mesh, and the top part of it looked as if it she had a bra on full display. Only bringing more attention to her perfectly modeled torso. Her hair was done in an elegant, but messy, kind of braid. The whole ensemble flowing together and creating an refined and formal Y/N that Bucky had never got the chance before tonight to see. 

Having looking that stunning, Bucky wasn’t surprised to see the men around her glance her way. However, the man that was only a few feet into her space and talking up a storm looked to be making Y/N uncomfortable. She had on a fake smile trying not to bring attention to herself, but disgust to the older and space invading man, was showing in her eyes.

Quickly, Bucky maneuvered to her.

“There you are, doll,” he smiled widely at her, putting his arm out and wrapping it around her waist as he pulled her side into him. “I must have gone to the wrong fountain looking for you,” he winked. 

As if in instinct, she leaned into his side and brought her hand to his chest lightly patting it. 

“Oh dear, you and your directionally challenged self. I can’t take you anywhere,” she laughed in a surprisingly domestic way. 

“Oh, is this your-?” the older, and now looking at him closer, creepy man started looking Bucky up and down. 

“My date, yes,” she answered. “If you’ll excuse us, we have some other friends that we were supposed to be meeting with,” she patted Bucky’s chest. “Right, honey?”

Lost while staring down at Y/N, he didn’t answer right away, but when he looked back at the old man who had a suspicious look on his face, he snapped out of it. 

“Uh, yes. If you’ll excuse us,” he said offering his arm, which she took and intertwined herself into him. 

They walked away quickly before the man could say anything else and once a good distance away, Y/N let out a deep sigh. 

“Take it you weren’t the one that approached him?” Bucky chuckled. 

“99% of the time it’s not the woman doing the approaching. It’s the sexually frustrated, overcompensating, and egotistic assholes that do,” she shook her head. 

Ok that made him chuckle a little.

“Well, glad I could be of service,” Bucky nodded looking around them. If he was going to stay focused on the mission, he couldn’t be looking at her. She had proven herself to be a distraction for the night while looking like that. 

“Yes, thank you. I would have done something about it, but I don’t think throat punching someone in the middle of a gala would have been normal entertainment for these people,” she said almost in disgust at the crowd around them. All prissy and rich, donating only a 164th of their wealth to try and not come off as greedy. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard that right. Did you just say… Thank you?” Bucky teased. 

“Don’t push your luck, Barnes,” she countered, but when she looked up at him there was a small smile on her dark maroon lips. A look Bucky had never really been on the receiving end of. 

He returned it in surprise and noticed just how devastatingly gorgeous she looked up close. Had she always been this stunning and Bucky never noticed. Ok, well he had noticed, but with the constant fighting and bickering they did, it was hard to focus on it. 

Without thinking, his thoughts spilled out. “You look very nice tonight,” he said to her. Instantly blushing and looking away.

“A compliment? I didn’t know you knew how to use those,” she gasped teasingly. 

“Don’t push your luck, Y/L/N,” he retorted back. The smile still stuck on his face. 

“Time out. Are we being civil right now?” she asked, halting her steps. Bucky stopped and looked back at her. 

“It’s possible if you just learn how to be less aggravating,” he smirked. 

“There it is. Whew, I was worried we were getting along for a second,” she laughed, continuing their walk.

Bucky hadn’t heard that laugh ever. At least not directed to something he had said. And damn, he liked it. Why the hell did he have to like it?

 “You know? I actually did my hair for the first time in 3 months. I think I deserve a medal for this,” she added. 

“I don’t think they give out medals for that,” Bucky couldn’t help himself, but laugh with her. 

“Well, they should. It took quite a bit of effort. Doing hair could be an olympic spot in itself,” she shrugged. 

“Ok, everyone in their sections?” Steve’s voice came through the comms.

“Good here,” Sam spoke up. 

“We’re set here,” Y/N checked in.

“Great. Keep an eye out for the individuals we’re here for. Y/N, Bucky, you guys keep an eye on the DeLuca’s. If they venture off from the party, it could be the meeting we’re here for. So follow and keep us updated,” Steve instructed. 

“Got it, Cap,” Bucky voiced in. “Alright, shall we mingle?” he asked, looking down at Y/N.

“I mean, if we must,” she deflated some on his arm, but quickly put on a mask straightening and acting as if she went to an event like this every weekend. 

______________

They conversed, they faked life stories with the rich, they drank, and they easily convinced everyone around them they were just another pair of investors. The mission was doing fine other than the fact, nothing suspicious had happened yet. 

The was until, Y/N was getting her 4th drink and Bucky noticed Cicely DeLuca was conversing with someone they had kept an eye on all night. And now, was headed off to another room with them. 

“Y/N,” Bucky said coming up behind her. “They're moving.”

Y/N took a long sip of the wine in her hand. She squinted toward the group and nodded. 

“Ok, let’s get to business,” she nodded, walking straight to them.

“Y/N!” Bucky shouted quickly, grabbing her arm before she got to far, and she fell into him some. 

“Oops,” she giggled, stumbling on her feet. 

“Wait a second. Are you drunk?” he asked in a concerned voice. 

“No, no,” she brushed off. Clearing her throat. “No… Ok, a little tipsy, but not drunk,” she waved off. “I lost count of the champagne, and I’m pretty sure they have a high proof brand.”

“Dear God. We're on a mission, Y/N. What were you thinking?!” 

“I was thinking, free alcohol,” she smirked before standing straighter. “No time to talk about it. We need to go.”

She turned and quietly marched to follow. Bucky close behind caught up to her and wrapped a hand her arm.

“You’re a mess. Just let me lead,” he groaned pulling her arm through his and keeping her close.

“You smell good,” she noted. 

He looked down at her and saw she was giving him a soft sincere smile. Really? Out of all times, this is when she decided to make Bucky’s head all fuzzy. 

“Come on,” he sighed, pulling her gently to the corridor the suspicious group disappeared into. 

Discreetly they stayed around the corner and watched the DeLuca’s and guests go into a secluded room. No one else was in the halls but them and a few guards posted at the doors. 

“Shit,” Bucky whispered. 

“What?” Y/N asked peeking her head around to see what Bucky saw, but she peeked out a little too much and the guard heard them. He quickly pulled her back from view.

“Damn it, Y/N,” Bucky whispered to her in a frustrated way. 

He was going to pull her away down another hallway to try and keep from being fully caught, but he wasn’t fast enough, and the guard started to come around the corner. 

Without getting a second to prepare, Y/N crashed her lips into Bucky’s and wrapped her arms around his shoulders behind his neck. A little stunned at first, Bucky froze, but it didn’t take him long to fall into the action with her. He slowly brought his hands around her waist and pulled her flush to him. The kiss hard and frenzied.

“Hey, you two aren’t supposed to be here!” The guard shouted. 

Y/N pulled away and faked shock. 

“Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry,” she blushed, adding a fake british accent and pushing herself into Bucky in embarrassment. “We were just trying to find a quiet place to… Well, I won’t get too graphic,” she giggled. 

The man who at first had a hard glare on his face eased up and sighed. 

“It’s fine. I’m just going to need you two go back to the party. This section is closed off,” he instructed coming closer. 

“Of course, of course. You’re only doing your job. I get it,” she smiled a captivating and warm smile untangling herself from Bucky who had yet to be able to form a coherent thought since her surprise make out session. “Let me just grab my clutch real fast- Oop!” She dropped the purse that had opened and the contents of it spilling out. “Oh God. I’m such a clutz,” she laughed. The alcohol created a tint of red in her cheeks only making her little act more convincing. 

“Here, let me help,” the large guard offered, bending to help her grap the loose items. 

“Ever the gentleman,” she beamed up at him. Before he knew it though, the tiny bottle of perfume she had in the clutch let out a spritz in his face. 

He coughed at first, but in seconds fell over asleep. Before he could hit the floor with a thud, Bucky moved to ease him down. 

“What the fuck?” Bucky said with wide eyes as he looked back at her. 

“What? I’m doing my job,” she answered, calmly and collectively putting her things back in her clutch and smoothing out her dress. Her behavior was completely different from 2 seconds ago. “Tipsy doesn’t mean I’m completely incompetent.”

The footsteps of the second guard coming around the corner were getting closer. 

“Move him,” Y/N directed before walking toward the other threat. 

By the time Bucky had placed the other man in a closet nearby and turned the corner where Y/N had gone, he saw her dragging the second guard back his way.

“A little help, muscles?” she groaned at the heavy set guy in her hands. 

Bucky quickly did the same with the second guard placing them in closets and blocking the door with a heavy decorative table. 

“Cap, we’re at the meeting room. Both guards taken care of and about to put the listening device on. You ready?”

“Nat?” Steve asked.

“On it”, Nat replied. “Y/N, if you can’t get into the room, stick it to the door. I can get feedback that way too,” she instructed. 

Bucky looked at Y/N. “Where’s the device?” he asked.

“One second,” she exhaled. She placed her hand on his shoulder for support as she lifted her foot and dug out a small mechanism from her heel. “For once, heels are useful in my life,” she sighed, putting her foot back down and activating it. “Keep watch.” She moved to the double doors the suspects were in and placed it on the outside as Bucky kept an eye down the hallway. 

“Why do I feel like a sidekick in this and not an actual agent?” Bucky mumbled. 

“Because you're Robin and I’m the Batman in this scenario, didn’t you know?” she said with a wink and her sarcasm coming back. 

He rolled his eyes before looking back down the hall. 

“Ok, we’re in,” Nat explained. “Sam and Wanda head to their location for stand by in case they need backup.”

“Copy that,” Wanda spoke up. 

They all listened in on the conversation but so far it had just been exchanging casualties and nothing having to do with evil plans. 

“God, talk about a boring party,” Y/N sighed next to Bucky as they waited for something to happen. 

“Wasn’t boring 5 minutes ago,” Bucky thought to himself. 

He couldn’t help but look over to her and study her again. She was focused on the view from the balcony off to the side. You could see the party happening down there, but it was a private spot where the people below couldn’t really see them up where they were.

She fidgeted with the small mesh strap that wrapped around her arms creating the off the shoulder look. Her eyes darting around as if some form of danger was down there and not behind her.

“What are you seeing?” he asked. 

“Don’t know. But something about this seems off,” she said softly. 

“Off how?” he went on. 

“It’s been 5 minutes of small talk and nothing about what we came here for. It’s usually straight to dirty business with these things.” She looked back at him, but the look in his eye wasn’t showing interest in the mission. He looked like he was thinking about something else. Turning back to the balcony she spoke up. “What’s going on in that head of yours Barnes? You catching something I’m not?”

“Why’d you kiss me?” he said bluntly. 

She stiffened and turned back to him. “What?”

“You could of easily just acted drunk and done something with that to throw him off, but you kissed me. And not just a fake, ‘I’m trying to act kiss’ That was a full on kiss,” he said taking a step to her. 

“We’re on a job Bucky. I have to make it as convincing as possible,” she said, but there was a weird hesitancy in her voice. “That or we would have been caught and dealing with two highly trained security guards, possibly causing a ruckus that would have brought attention to us.”

He paused. He was looking too far into it, wasn’t he? He just made an awkward situation out of nothing. 

“Though, I can’t not say you in that suit had something to do with it,” she mumbled to herself, but the super soldier hearing beat out her quiet confession.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Bucky grinned shocked and stood behind her. 

“You look good in a suit, ok? It made it a little easier kissing you,” she huffed not making eye contact with him. “Don’t get too big an ego there, bud.”

Though he could come up with about 30 different things to say and push her buttons with that confession, that’s not where his mind went. 

When she turned, not hearing a witty response for the co-worker, she didn’t expect to see him right behind her and almost chest to chest at the movement. 

“What are you-” she started, but looking up into his eyes, she didn’t see irritation this time. No, she saw lust. His eyes dilated to where the blues of his eyes just covered the rims. “Bucky,” she said in a hushed whisper not being able to break her gaze from his lips.

But before she could question him, he lowered himself to her level and connected their lips once again that evening. His hand going from her cheek to behind her neck pulling her in. Her hands at first on his chest nervous at the closeness, but now grabbing the lapels of his coat and pulling him closer. 

Frantic and starved was the best way to describe that kiss. As if it had been a long time coming, and tasted oh so much sweeter after marinating all this time. 

They eventually pulled away from the intoxicating and dizzying action. Both of their eyes practically black looking at the other. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Bucky confessed. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” she said, still trying to catch her breath. 

Breaking the moment up, they heard a crash come from the other side of the doors they were monitoring. 

“Shit,” Y/N said, quickly making haste to the room. Bucky two steps behind her. 

Bucky kicked open the doors and saw Hydra agents pointing their gun at the DeLuca’s. Though their job wasn’t to take care of the crime boss family, no one needed to get hurt. 

The gun quickly turned on Bucky, but before the shot could be made, a knife flew into the man's shoulder causing him to grasp it and fall to the ground in agony.

“Nice shot,” Bucky smirked. 

“Thanks, now focus!” She smiled back before the two went in and a whole fight scene evolved. 

Sam and Wanda were there seconds later, and as if the easiest task in the world, all the bad guys were in the hands of the Avengers.

No one died, and everyone that was needed for questioning was put to sleep somehow and brought back to the helicarrier. 

________________

“Nice work, Y/L/N,” Steve patted her shoulder that hadn’t been injured. 

At some point in the fight, the sleeves she had been fiddling with on her shoulders had restricted her to defend herself from a knife. In the act of cutting her though, it also cut the sash off and Y/N used it to her advantage. She had used the fabric as a way to tie up the man who assaulted her and render him defenseless after some light manipulation with the sash made his weaponless. Crazy the things you can make dangerous when your a trained spy. 

“Thanks Cap,” she smiled, hissing as the nurse on board put a disinfectant on the wounds. 

“Hey, coming out with just one injury is a win when you use a ribbon as your weapon,” Bucky chuckled walking over. Hands in his pockets and a smile taking over his features. 

“You’re not wrong,” she laughed before hissing again at another round of alcohol to the open cut.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but we are going to wrap this up to keep from infection. Let me go grab the gauze,” the nurse informed her, heading to the medical bay. 

“Nice work tonight,” Bucky said, sitting next to her. “I guess working side by side isn’t as horrible as I suspected.”

“Eh, it wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t great,” she said shrugging. Bucky sent her a blank stare and slowly blinked, not amused. “Oh, lighten up. I’m just pulling your leg,” she laughed, shoving his shoulder lightly. “You’re not that bad of a partner.”

He eased up and a soft smile formed on his lips before he looked back down. 

“Listen,” he started. 

“How do you feel about getting coffee when we get back?” she cut him off. 

“What?” Bucky said sitting straighter. 

“Coffee. You know that drink that gives people energy. It’s usually served around breakfast time, but in Europe they actually-”

“I know what coffee is,” he shook his head with a chuckle. “I’m just a little shocked.”

The nurse came back around the corner and motioned for Y/N to come with her. She got up and turned back to Bucky before she followed. 

“You shouldn’t be, considering what happened on that balcony,” she winked, making him blush as she disappeared around the corner. 

“Damn,” Bucky eventually said to himself when he could form a thought. “She’s going to be the death of me…”

Marvel Tags:

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Bucky Barnes Tags:

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My Lovelies forever:

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[calpalirwin]

Nights in the OR

A/N: This is called “I watch too much Grey’s Anatomy” so if you’re a fellow Grey’s fan in addition to a fellow Ashton ho, hi!

Word Count: 1.9k

And away, and away we go!

__

Nights on the peds floor we’re, in a word, uneventful. Low hums and beeps from machines doing their jobs while kids and parents alike snoozed between nurses prodding them awake to do their routine checks. You went through the charts of your patients, delegating a duo of an intern and older resident to each case with strict orders to page you only if something was seriously wrong, and a bright “Keep the tiny humans alive,” before making your way to the emergency room.

The trauma team usually ran the emergency room, a sea of green scrubs moving effectively and efficiently, assessing situations before paging the right departments, or diving headfirst into the work themselves. You caught sight of one of the doctors, a tall man in a shade of green scrubs darker than the rest in the room, and rolled your eyes. Attending trauma surgeon Ashton Irwin was about as arrogant as he was skilled, with an annoying habit of assessing quickly, albeit correctly, and working even faster on patients before shipping them off to the correct departments to deal with the fallout. You weren’t sure if that man had ever spent more than an hour, two tops, with a patient from start to finish. True to his arrogance and almost zero tolerance for sloppy mistakes, he was talking in hushed tones to a second year, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw set, as the resident nodded frantically before running off.

Dr. Irwin took a moment to compose himself, giving the slightest shake of his head and relaxing his jaw, before turning to wherever he was needed next. His hazel eyes scanned the room, and even from where you were you could tell that they were more on the green side tonight as they met yours. He offered forth the smallest of nods and smiles in your direction, dimples indenting both sides of the smile.

You returned the gesture, before twirling your index finger about the room. Extra attending on hand.

He waved his hand. No need. Got it covered, thanks.

You smiled your best, I don’t give a damn smile, striding across the room to take a seat behind a computer, crossing your hands behind your head. And with little else to do on your part, you settled in for a long night of researching the pros and cons of artificial bones versus prosthetics in cases for patients with osteosarcoma, a joint effort you were working on with the orthopedic surgeon.

Around 2 in the morning, you took a break from your research to grab a cup of coffee and a small bite to eat. On your way back, you spotted the orthopedic surgeon with a patient. “Oh! Dr. Hood,” you said as you approached. “Come find me when you’re done. I have some ideas.”

The man swiveled on his chair to glance up at you, eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “You’re not in OR 2 with Ash?”

“Nnnnoooo…” you said slowly, taking a sip from your coffee. “Why?” you followed up in a clipped tone. What had Dr. Arrogant done now?

Dr. Hood smiled politely at his patient, and got the attention of his resident. “Ma’am, we’re going to take you up for X-rays now, and then we’ll see about setting your arm for you, okay?”

The woman nodded, clearly shaken up. Then, “What about my husband and son?”

“I’ll get word, and update you as soon as I can,” he promised, before the resident escorted the patient up to X-rays. Finally he turned his attention to you. “Car accident just came in. Parents are a little banged up. Mike and Luke are working up the dad. You know how Luke gets about stitches.”

The both of you shared a chuckle. Luke Hemmings, the plastic surgeon, had very high standards for even the most basic of stitches, and if he was on hand and free, it was an easy bet he’d do the work himself. “So, what’s Mike doing with him then, if it’s just stitches?” you asked, referring to the general surgeon.

He shrugged. “General work up and clearance, I suppose. But the mom and the son’s side took the impact the hardest. Specifically the son. Ash didn’t page you?”

You scoffed. “Why on Earth would Ash page me, Cal? It’s trauma,” you raised your hands and voice in a mocking manner.

“Uh, probably cuz the kid is like seven.”

You growled low in your throat, hands going to tie up your hair. “OR 2, you said? How long ago?”

“Not too long. They gotta still be prepping. So if you hurry…”

“Thanks, Cal,” you patted the man on the shoulder before taking off at a run towards the OR rooms, briefly mourning your discarded coffee and potato chips in the process.

When you shouldered your way into the room, Ashton was in the process of scrubbing in, while nurses finished prep. “What the hell are you doing?” you demanded, arms crossing instinctively over your chest as you made your presence known.

Ashton shut off the water with his elbow, turning slightly to face you. “My job,” was the reply in a tone that questioned your intelligence.

“Bullshit,” you spat. “That,” you pointed out the window towards the child on the table, “is a peds case, and you know it.”

“It will be once it stops being a trauma case, yes.”

“Why didn’t you page me?”

“Because I don’t need you. It’s a trauma case. I’m a trauma surgeon. Now, you want to stop asking inane questions, and let me do my job, or you wanna stand here and fight with me all night?”

“It’s a peds trauma case, and in case you forgot, I’m the peds attending who happens to be trauma certified. And I’ll be damned if you do some hacksaw job on my patient that I have to fix later when I can scrub in and do the correct job now. So, are you going to ask me to scrub in, or do you wanna stand here questioning my credentials all night when you know I’m right? Do not make me go above your head to the Chief, Ash, because you know I will.”

His jaw ticked underneath his mask, his eyes hard as he thought over your threat. “Well?” he snapped after a beat of silence. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to scrub in?”

~~~

It was a grueling surgery, working in tandem with Ashton. For all the shit the two of you gave each other outside of the OR, inside you were one of the best teams, each of you knowing each other’s moves before you made them, and knowing what the other was thinking in the subtlest of changes. Even with both of your focuses solely on the patient in front of you, you were both vigilant in sending Ashton’s intern out every hour on the hour with updates, in which you two were also informed of the parents’ recovery.

Just before the four hour mark, Ashton let out a small hum of approval and you nodded. “Close and get him a room on the peds floor,” you told the intern.

“You don’t want me to update the family?”

“No,” Ashton cut in, already discarding his gloves, mask, and removing his scrub cap, shocks of curly brown hair falling forward and plastering to his sweaty forehead. “I will. Give Dr. Y/L/N any trouble and you won’t see the inside of an OR for a month.”

The intern gulped, knowing their boss meant what he said and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Y/N, I’ll meet you after I update the family to make sure we’re on the same page for how to proceed from here?”

“If you can remember how to page me, that is,” you smiled sweetly.

Ashton chuckled as he left the OR, while you stayed to oversee the intern closing, providing probably much gentler instruction than they were used to.

~~~

You rubbed at your eyes and stifled a yawn as you made your way to the cafeteria, still waiting for Ashton to page you. As you walked in, you realized why Ashton still hadn’t paged, spotting the man chatting with a few other attendings.

“Heard Y/N chewed your ear off,” Michael snickered.

“Yeah, she was pissed. Thanks for that, Cal,” Ashton said with a small giggle before changing his voice to do his best impersonation of you, “ ‘It’s a peds trauma case, and in case you forgot, I’m the peds attending who also happens to be trauma certified. Do not make me go over your head.’ Like yes, darling, I know. I’m the one who gave you your trauma certification.”

As the men started to laugh, you set your tray down in an empty seat at their table. “Morning, gentlemen!”

There was a cough as they tried to stifle their laughter, each of them getting out a choked, “Morning.”

“What were we talking about?” you asked innocently.

“Uh… just how Luke needs to learn to loosen up on the stitches,” Michael thought quickly. “Turns a five minute procedure into a half hour ordeal, it’s insane.”

“Sorry that I care how my patients look after a trauma,” Luke said with an eye roll.

“I’m sure, psych would call that mentality projection,” Calum teased.

“Paging Dr. Pretty Boy!” Ashton cackled.

“Hey! Rather be Dr. Pretty Boy than Dr. Arrogant,” Luke rounded on Ashton playfully.

“Who calls me that?”

“Uh… everybody. Y/N’s pretty accurate with her nicknaming,” Calum grinned.

Ashton let out a breath of disbelief as you smiled sheepishly at him, shrugging your shoulders. “Have you considered being less arrogant?”

“I am not arrogant!”

“Yeah, you are,” you all chorused, while Ashton crossed his arms and pouted. “Oh, whatever, the best surgeons usually are” you continued, turning your attention to Calum. “Before I got stuck in surgery, I meant to talk to you about artificial bones. Found some promising stuff.”

Calum paused in his sip of coffee. “Mmm, shit, awesome. Uh…” he checked his watch, “I got a half hour before rounds. You got time now?”

You checked your own watch. “Yeah, I got t-”

“Actually,” Ashton interrupted. “Y/N, I was wondering if we could talk real quick first. About the kid.”

“Oh! Yeah. We should probably do that. Cal, I’m off after rounds, if you’re free then.”

“Sounds good,” he nodded as he went back to his coffee while you and Ashton rose from the table, bidding the other three goodbye.

“So, his chart’s all up to date. I have one of my fourth years monitoring the situation, but I’m not expecting any complications to arise. Should be good to discharge probably later today or early tomorrow at the latest,” you brought him up to speed as you walked.

“Yeah, that’s great,” Ashton rushed, eyes darting around as he pushed open an on-call room and locked the door behind the two of you. “How long we got til rounds?”

“A little under a half hour, why?”

Ashton smirked as his hands landed hot on your waist, his lips finding yours. “Wanna boss me around some more?” he murmured against your lips, before he was trailing kisses down the column of your neck, before sucking into the sweet spot just before your collarbone, his hands jerking you to be flush against him. “Or, do you want my sincerest apology for being Dr. Arrogant, and forgetting to page you earlier?”

“Mmmm,” you moaned softly, tilting your head back, eyes shutting. “Little bit of both?”

“Yes ma’am,” he winked before scrubs went flying and your back hit the mattress.

__

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[swan-of-sunrise]

The Winter Soldier (Chapter Eight)

Summary: The gang plans to take down both Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D. and (Y/N) begins to feel nervous about their impending mission, not only for herself but for the super-soldier she’d grown a soft spot for.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Brief mention of a panic attack

A/N: Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Eight (Previous Chapter)

After cutting through the floor of the S.T.R.I.K.E. van with what (Y/N) excitedly thought was some sort of mini lightsaber, hurrying into a windowless van at the next stoplight and speeding along for what felt like an eternity, they stopped and the door finally opened to reveal a large stone structure similar to a water facility or dam. This certainly looks like a top secret hideout, (Y/N) thought as she watched Steve jump out of the van and turn to help Natasha out next, like something straight out of my novel.

Once they all clambered out of the van, the woman who’d introduced herself as Maria Hill led them into the stone building, where they were immediately met by a short man with curly-grey hair. “GSW, she’s lost at least a pint.”

“Maybe two!” Sam added, helping Steve support the weakening spy.

The man hurried up to them. “Let me take her.”

“She’ll want to see him first.” Maria led them down a darkened hallway to a lit room and pulled back a hanging plastic sheet to reveal a man with an eyepatch lying in a hospital bed. (Y/N) exchanged a confused look with Sam while Steve and Natasha gasped in recognition.

The man in the hospital bed smiled tiredly. “About damn time.”

“Nick?” Natasha breathed, her eyes struggling to remain open.

“Doc, you should take care of Romanoff. And Captain,” The man’s eye moved from Natasha and the doctor to (Y/N) and Sam, causing (Y/N) to feel slightly unnerved under his critical gaze. “Care to introduce me to your new friends?”

After their brief introductions, Director Fury had suggested that she and Sam go clean themselves up but (Y/N) sensed that the two of them didn’t have much of an option; they’re probably discussing whether or not to trust us, she thought as she washed her grimy face clean in a small bathroom, not that I blame them for being skeptical. It seemed that there were very few people that they could trust at the moment, so she wasn’t offended that they were possibly a little wary of her and Sam.

“How’re you holding up?”

(Y/N) turned to see Sam standing in the doorway of the bathroom, with his arms crossed over his chest and a concerned look on his face. “I’m doing okay. I think I pulled a muscle kicking that one Hydra thug, though, and my other leg hurts from when that other Hydra asshat kicked me, but-”

“That’s not what I meant.” She glanced away from him but he continued anyway. “(Y/N), you had a panic attack back there when you found out you’re an Insight target. There’s no way you’re just doing ‘okay’ after that.”

Turning back to him, she met his worried expression and gave him a smile. “I’m fine now, Sam, I promise. I’m still a little shaken up about all this, of course, but I’m okay. Steve and I had a good conversation on the roof earlier, and I-” She stopped talking and raised her brow when she caught sight of Sam’s signature smirk. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just nice to see you getting along so well with the guy. So, you two had a, ah, conversation, huh?” Sam hid his grin behind his hand before continuing with a muffled voice. “And it was a good one, you said?”

(Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest and gave him the dirtiest look she could muster as she tried and failed to cool her blushing cheeks. “Samuel Thomas Wilson, you’re damn lucky we’re in the middle of stopping a seventy-five-year-old terrorist organization from taking over the world or else I’d ram my foot right up your-”

“Hey, guys.” They turned around to see Steve standing in the doorway, a bemused smile playing on his lips while he glanced between the pair of them. “Nat’s shoulder’s patched up and Fury’s ready for us all to regroup now.”

“I’m guessing that’s really code for, ‘Congratulations, Fury decided that he could trust you.’” Sam quipped and gave (Y/N)’s shoulder a pat as he headed out of the room. “C’mon, Booksmart, no lagging behind for another ‘good conversation.’”

Steve walked alongside her as they followed Sam through the halls. “You sure you two weren’t separated at birth?”

“You know what’s funny? My actual brother and I get along perfectly fine, we always have. It’s almost like the universe is punishing me for growing up with a nice sibling by giving me Birdbrain over there. But Que Sera, Sera, whatever will be will be and all that.” Steve gave her a confused look. “Sorry, I forgot; that’s a Doris Day song from the ’50’s, and it was even in an Alfred Hitchcock film.” They walked in silence for a few moments before she summoned the courage to ask, “Are you okay, Steve?”

“I will be once we stop that launch.” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him give her a fleeting glance. “What about you?

“Um, ditto.” Swallowing nervously, she opened her mouth to ask about the Winter Soldier but lost her nerve at the last second, so they walked together in silence until they came to a meeting room.

Director Fury sat beside Maria Hill, his arm in a sling and his gaze focused on the open file before him. Maria was resting her arm on a large black case and across from her sat Natasha, her shoulder freshly bandaged and her face stony. Once in the room, (Y/N) opted to stand beside Sam and watched with observant eyes as the director picked up a picture of a younger-looking Alexander Pierce from the file.

“This man declined the Nobel Peace Prize. He said, ‘Peace wasn’t an achievement, it was a responsibility.’” He tossed the photograph back down into the table with more force than necessary. “See, it’s stuff like this that gives me trust issues.”

Natasha spoke up, her face looking grim. “We have to stop the launch.”

At her words, the director shook his head. “I don’t think the Council’s accepting my calls anymore.” He pulled the black case closer to him and opened the lid, revealing three electronic chips.

“What’s that?”

Maria’s eyes glanced around the group as she explained, “Once the helicarriers reach three thousand feet, they’ll triangulate with Insight satellites, becoming fully weaponized.”

“We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own.”

“One or two won’t cut it. We need to link all three carriers for this to work, because if even one of those ships remains operational…a whole lot of people are gonna die.”

Director Fury nodded. “We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is Hydra. We need to get past them, insert the server blades and maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what’s left-”

“We’re not salvaging anything.” (Y/N) looked over at Steve, who had the determined look of a soldier on his face. In that moment, (Y/N) saw the skinny young man from Brooklyn within his burning gaze as he addressed the director. “We’re not just taking down the carriers, Nick, we’re taking down S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. had nothing to do with it.”

Steve clenched his jaw as he spoke, “You gave me this mission, this is how it ends. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s been compromised, you said so yourself. Hydra grew right under your nose and nobody noticed.”

The director frowned. “Why do you think we’re meeting in this cave? I noticed.”

“And how many paid the price before you did?”

Signing wearily, Director Fury leaned back in his chair. “Look, I didn’t know about Barnes…”

“Even if you had, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that too? S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra…? It all goes.”

Maria looked at Director Fury and nodded. “He’s right.”

The director turned to Natasha, who only nodded in agreement, then he focused his gaze on (Y/N). Feeling the eyes of everyone around the table on her, she stood straight and met the director’s questioning gaze. “I know that I’m new to all this stuff, but…” She looked beside her at Steve. “I’m with Cap on this one.” The corner of Steve’s mouth twitched upwards.

“Don’t look at me.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest as he glanced over at (Y/N) and Steve. “I do what he does, just slower.”

Director Fury’s expression was hesitant, but he gave a nod to the super-soldier and heaved a sigh. “Well…looks like you’re giving the orders now, Captain.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After going over their plan to stop Pierce and the helicarriers, Steve left to retrieve his old uniform from the Smithsonian and Natasha made her way to Reagen National Airport to intercept Councilwoman Hawley’s transport to the Triskellion, while everyone else was busy gearing up at Fury’s secret base of operations. Before hurrying off to prepare their communication devices for the mission, Maria had pulled (Y/N) aside and pressed a hastily-wrapped bundle into her hands.

“If you’re gonna go on this mission with us, (Y/L/N), then you’d better look the part.” She’d given her a curt nod before walking away.

Now, (Y/N) stood in the women’s bathroom and looked at her reflection in the smudged mirror. She was dressed in a dark blue form-fitting uniform similar to Maria’s, with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo embossed on the shoulder and sturdy combat boots laced tight.

“Never thought I’d be a part of something this crazy,” She smoothed out the wrinkles on the fabric and gave her reflection a tiny reassuring smile. On the inside, though, she was frightened of failure and what that failure would mean for the rest of the world. “But it’ll be interesting while it lasts…”

On her way to their rendezvous point outside the base, (Y/N) spotted Steve, dressed in his classic World War II Captain America uniform and with his shield strapped to his back. She debated with herself for a moment before jogging to catch up with the super-soldier, calling out, “Hey, wait up!”

Steve stopped and turned, waiting patiently with his hands resting in his belt buckle as she made her way over to him; he gave her an approving nod when she finally reached him, his azure eyes taking in her new outfit before meeting her gaze. “Nice uniform, it suits you.”

“And you pull off the vintage look very well…listen, Steve, um, about Bucky…” He opened his mouth to protest but she quickly cut him off. “I think you’re right to try and save him from Hydra. That’s why you stole your old uniform to wear on this mission, isn’t it? To try and jog his memory of you, of his old life.” He slowly nodded and she looked down, her eyes level with the star on his chest, before continuing. “If Hydra had taken Sam and done the same things to him, I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from trying everything I could to save him. Just…” Her eyes flicked back up to meet his. “I saw what he did on that causeway, what he’s fully capable of. Promise you’ll be careful?”

Steve nodded again, and she could see the concerned look he was giving her under his helmet. “You be careful, too, (Y/N). Sam and I can take care of the Insight crew, but you’re our eyes and ears. Stick with Hill, remember the plan and with a whole lot of luck, we just might be able to pull this off.”

(Y/N) gave him a small salute and joking grin. “Sir, yes, sir. Now, in the immortal and iconic words of Freddie Mercury, ‘On with the show’!”

“...Who’s Freddie Mercury?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy! 

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V

Tagging: @mrs-obrien​ @lahoete​ @awkward117​ @cminr​ @momc95​ @awkwardnesshabitat​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @khuang3​ @supersouthy​ @benakenalove​ @brooke0297​ @hufflepeople​ @becausewelie​​ @outoftheregular @supreme-tantrum​

Chapter Nine

“The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

[buttonhouseparty]

For the Ghosts Asks Game! 1, 8, 13, 18, 27, 41 & 48 <3

Thank you so much for asking, and for asking so many as well! I had fun thinking about these.

💖 1. Who is your favourite ghost? Oh, far and away, it’s wholehearted unconditional love for the Captain from me. He just really speaks to me! as Thomas would say. The non-Captain ghost I like best is Robin. He’s a total wildcard: fun-loving, naughty, but also wise. You never know what he’ll say or do next. He would probably be an absolute nightmare to live with.

🐈 8. Which ghost do you think you'd get along with the best? Kitty for sure. Everyone I’ve ever been good friends with irl has been an irrepressible extrovert like Kitty. I’m so reserved that I need someone who’ll reach out and meet me more than halfway. Kitty would grind down my defences with her relentless friendliness and chitchat about balls and eligible men. I would be the grumpy one who’s soft for her sunshine one.

💑 13. Favourite ship and why? Cap/anyone, lol. I just want to read about the Captain. I’m not really attached to any ship in Ghosts! I’m just grateful for any fic/art that people put out there. Actually I really enjoy it when it’s a pairing I’m slightly less into and yet the writing is so insightful that I end up rooting for them and cheering them on anyway. Like okay! You have convinced me! Now smoosh them together and have done with it

📖 18. What is your favourite Ghosts fanfiction? Well obviously this is my opportunity to compliment you on your fics, dear asker, which are genuine masterpieces of the E-rated genre *bows* I mean there are so many talented writers in this fandom… If I’m being asked to highlight just one story, I would recommend this incredible oneshot by @wreathedwith – blood, dirt & sucked sugar stick (x) It’s achingly poignant, knowing, wryly funny and low-key smutty. Perfectly-judged characterisation of the Captain in all his tortured, conflicted repression. Short but sweet.

🌕 27. Favourite episode? I’m going to go with Moonah Ston. A formal dinner party getting completely buggered up is such a classic comedy trope. Geoff McGivern and Sophie Thompson are class acts. So many iconic moments in this too: the ghosts watching Friends, happy Cap coaching Mike to shoot (pom-pom), Pat with the dog, ‘all the water’s turned to clouds!’, tons of great Robin moments including his little song. It doesn’t have all the emotional depth of other episodes but for a tightly-written sitcom ep it’s hard to beat.

👨🏻 41. Let's settle this once and for all. Who's the real leader, the Captain or Pat? Both. Pat day-to-day but the Captain in a crisis. Whether either of them are good at leading is a different question entirely.

Okay, you also asked me 48 but I have lots of thoughts and this post is already long, so I’ll reply to that separately :)

OP for this Ghosts Ask Game is here: x

[secretpajamas]

a different kind of rush;

an ezra x reader fic

pairing: ezra (prospect) x female reader

rating: explicit

genre: romance/smut/and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)

words: 5.6k

part 2 of 2 (read part one HERE)

please scroll to the end to “content” if you would like to know specific smut-related content before reading!

--

When you emerged from the shower, you changed into your long sleep shirt (the thing was far too old and ratty at this point to be considered a “nightgown”). Even though it wasn’t dark out yet, you figured you might as well go to bed at the rate this day was going.

As you slowly crept through the tent partition, you noticed that Ezra was gone—and so was his gear.

You found a note in Ezra’s barely-legible scrawl placed at the foot of your bed.

“Starstone quality check,” you mumbled, reading the note aloud.

Starstone was so finicky that it was necessary to check up on it in storage to make sure it maintained its stability. But you knew in your gut he was avoiding you. While he was out, you cleaned the filters and checked the tanks like you always did—minus the filter and tank that Ezra was currently using—the methodical work helping soothe your nerves a little.

When Ezra came back in, you were sitting up in bed, reading the book Ezra’s kid Cee had hand-written (“She didn’t come up with the story, but she basically rewrote the whole damn thing herself. Smarter than she knows, that kid.”). It wasn’t your usual kind of story, and not even your usual medium of consumption (you preferred late-night radio dramas, but they broadcast from the Ephrate—the signal was spotty at best in the Fringes and nonexistent here in the Reach), but it was captivating nonetheless.

You didn’t look up from the book as Ezra walked in. Neither of you said a word.

Part of you was relieved that you didn’t talk about it.

The other part of you was desperate to talk about it.

--

The next morning, you woke to Ezra sitting at his makeshift desk—a chair set in front of an old wooden shipping crate—swirling together the starstone enzyme bath. He was wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a gray t-shirt, his hair already matted with perspiration from the heat.

You grumbled and slowly sat up.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Ezra said, not lifting his eyes from his work.

“Mmph,” was your sleepy response.

“Oats are ready if you have a hankering,” he continued, gesturing with his head towards the “kitchen”—another wooden shipping crate, this one with a battery-operated stove placed on top.

You were suddenly very awake at the promise of food. “Please tell me there’s coffee, too.”

“Haven’t made it yet,” he replied. “Go easy on the stuff, you’ve drunk near all my supply.”

“I believe food and board is included in my contract.” You yawned before shuffling your way over to the stove.

“Food and board, sweetheart, not drink.” Ezra held the canister of freshly mixed enzyme solution between his knees as he twisted on the cap with his hand.

Your stomach rumbled and you eagerly grabbed your bowl of oatmeal. After wolfing down your breakfast, you filled Ezra’s rickety kettle with water and set it on the stove, turning the power up to high. You pawed around the mismatched collection of canteens piled next to the stove until you found two clean ones and set them out, along with four packets of powdered coffee (three for you, one for Ezra). It was the instant stuff anyone could grab for cheap at a shuttle station, and it tasted wretched, but it did its job.

As you waited for the water to boil—not long when the water in storage was already warm thanks to this planet’s heat—You heard Ezra stand up and approach you. When you felt his hand brush the small of your back, you shivered.

Ezra huffed. “Are you cold? For cryin’ out loud, woman, it’s hotter’n two channel-rats fuckin’ in a wool sock.”

“Must be caffeine withdrawal,” you lied, knowing full well it was Ezra’s touch.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth and you nearly shivered again. “I suppose it’s high time I replenish our supplies,” he said, “lest you pillage the remainder of my coffee.”

When the kettle began to whistle, you switched off the stove and poured equal amounts of hot water into the cups—and unequal amounts of coffee packets. All the while, Ezra’s hand stayed on your back.

“Speaking of supplies, we could use another full O2 tank,” you said, trying your best to ignore how your stomach did somersaults every time Ezra absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against the material of your sleep shirt, “and coolant for the air circulators.”

“I’m well aware,” Ezra said, “but thank you kindly for the reminder.”

You offered Ezra his canteen of coffee. You mourned the loss of his hand on your back, but feeling the brush of his fingers against yours as you handed him his cup was nearly as electrifying.

“S’posin’ we pull a good haul of starstone today, I can ready the pod for the shuttle station tomorrow,” he said between sips. “Be back within a couple days’ time.”

You swallowed down a lump in your throat along with your coffee. You did need supplies, but it was hardly urgent—was he really that keen on avoiding you? But the way he just touched your back—he’d never been more intimate than friendly pats on the shoulder before—

“The shuttle station gets a clearer radio signal to the Ephrate,” Ezra continued, “I can have a good an’ proper talk with Cee.”

Oh. He wants to talk to his kid, you moron. Why did you make this about yourself and your ill-timed masturbatory ventures?

“I’ll hold down the fort, then,” you said between gulps of your coffee.

“I’m countin’ on it,” Ezra said. “Now let’s score some stone afore this bitch of a planet bakes us alive.”

–

Ezra was gone before you woke, but you had expected it. He told you as much last night. But you still couldn’t shake the notion that he was avoiding you. You sighed deeply before untangling yourself from the bedsheets and crawling over to make your morning coffee.

On the table, the kettle was already set out on the stovetop, along with three coffee packets, a clean canteen, and a note from Ezra.

“Radio at 21:00,” you mumbled. That was tonight—so he was planning to call you as soon as he got in. You couldn’t help but smile as you made your coffee.

You didn’t have to mine today or tomorrow, thanks to working double-time yesterday (and your aching muscles certainly reminded you of that), but there was still plenty to do around the tent. After gulping down your coffee, you started with the pile of laundry in the corner. It was the most urgent order of business, based on how it was beginning to climb up the wall—and how much it stunk. You filled a basin with water and soap and got to work.

While hanging the garments to dry, you noticed a pair of Ezra’s compression pants had a tear in the thigh—thankfully, it was on a side seam, so you could easily sew it shut. You noted to fix it as soon as it was finished drying. You wondered if you could mend anything else, noting Ezra’s ratty assortment of boxers and briefs. If he made any cash in the aurelac rush, he certainly didn’t spend any of it on underwear. You could mend holes, but you couldn’t work miracles.

As you waited for the clothes to dry, you snacked on a ration bar and read more of Cee’s book. You were invested in the characters now, despite your initial skepticism of the subject matter. You had to admit, it was a bit of a page-turner. After a while, you didn’t want to put it down. You moved from sitting at Ezra’s desk to leaning against one of the tent supports to laying on your bed mat, your eyes glued to the page.

When you finally came to a satisfying enough chapter to pause your reading, you looked around for a piece of scrap paper to mark your place. You picked up Ezra’s note and tucked it inside the pages before shutting the book. You noticed the laundry hanging up was dry—had you really been reading that long? Oh well. Time to get mending.

–

You had mended Ezra’s pants, a pair of his socks, and were about to sew a button back on the pocket of your suit when you heard your name crackle from the radio headset in the corner. Startled, you dropped your work, the button skittering across the floor.

“Gimme a minute!” You shouted, hoping your headset would pick it up from across the tent. You quickly found the runaway button and placed it on Ezra’s desk before scrambling to your side of the tent to put on your headset.

“Sorry about that,” you said, “I’m here. You get in okay?”

“All in one piece,” came Ezra’s voice in your ear, “give or take an arm.”

You rolled your eyes at Ezra’s wisecrack. “Talk to Cee yet?”

“Not yet,” Ezra said, “with the time difference between here and the Ephrate, she’s still in class. I shan’t interrupt her studies.”

You looked at the book where it lay on Ezra’s desk and smiled. “Well, when you call her, tell her I said hello.”

“Will do.”

“So, what station did you end up at?” You asked.

“Trinity,” Ezra replied.

“Trinity,” you said, “don’t think I’ve been on Trinity since the rush.”

“Ain’t any different,” Ezra said, “still got egregious docking fees and an abundance of unpleasant company.”

“Already shooed away a pick-pocket busker, haven’t you?”

“Several,” Ezra grumbled, “Damn this stump, they think I’m an easy target.”

“Were any of them good players, at least?” You asked.

“Truthfully, the boy on the panpipes was a talented little devil,” he said, “both in playing his instrument and his victims. I let him pilfer a coin from my pocket—I fancy myself a patron of the arts.”

You snorted. “You keep coin in your pocket? On Trinity?”

“Sweetheart, it’s the decoy cash,” Ezra explained. “You keep a couple low-credit coin in your pocket for the vandals so that they don’t go scroungin’ for the heavy-hittin’ gems in your suit lining.”

“Speaking of your suit lining,” you said, “I’ve been doing some mending.”

You heard Ezra’s raspy laugh through your headset. “Don’t suppose you’ve been sewin’ up my underthings.”

“Those are hopeless,” you remarked, “I meant your spare compression pants.”

“Ah!” Ezra said. “I do recall those had a rip in ’em. I was fixin’ to fix those.”

“Well, I figured I’d do it as long as I had the time,” you said. “Also darned a pair of your socks.”

“Are you anglin’ for a raise?” You could hear the smile in Ezra’s voice.

“Your listing did say ‘compensation negotiable,’” you replied.

“Hmm. That it did,” Ezra said. “Perhaps we shall negotiate upon my return.”

The radio line lay silent for a moment, and you felt a nervous pang in your stomach. Enough small talk. You needed to say something about what happened the other day—even if it was just to apologize.

“Ezra?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He replied.

“Is everything... Okay? With us?” You asked, trying to suppress the anxiety in your voice.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Ezra replied, before quickly adding in lowered tone, “Did somethin’... rub you the wrong way?”

“Kevva help me,” you grumbled, feeling the wave embarrassment crawl up your spine. “I’m so sorry, Ezra. It won’t happen again.”

“Stop apologizin’. There ain’t a thing wrong indulgin’ in a little well-earned self-pleasure.”

The way he said pleasure made your breath hitch. You hoped like hell it didn’t pick up on the radio.

“If there’s one thing I’ve come to realize in my years,” he said, “is that there’s no use feelin’ shame in feelin’ good.”

His voice was smooth and deliberate now. That bastard knew exactly what he was doing to you. “So don’t you stop yourself because of me—truthfully, I don’t mind. Not one bit.”

Hesitantly, you reached down to press the heel of your hand against your clit, choking back a moan threatening to escape your throat—but not entirely succeeding.

You heard Ezra’s breath coming loud and heavy through the radio. “Are you touchin’ yourself right now, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you gasped out, your previous inhibitions completely shattered.

“Fuck,” Ezra replied. “Thank Kevva this radio headset is hands-free.”

You heard what might have been Ezra undoing his zipper—and your suspicions were confirmed when you heard a low moan through the radio.

“Ezra—”

“Do you have the faintest idea what you do to me, woman?” The line swelled with static and the throaty rasp of Ezra’s voice. “Told myself not to—made myself not think of you like that. It ain’t proper. But when you—you let me watch—”

You whined and slid your hand beneath your underwear. “I was thinking of you,” you confessed, “always thinking of you—”

“It’s a cryin’ shame,” Ezra said, “all I’ve got is spit-slick and a weak hand wishin’ like hell it was you.”

You sped up the pace of your fingers as he continued.

“If you were here,” he said, “I’d bury myself inside you so deep—ah, fuck—’til you were the only thing I could feel.”

At his words, you slid two fingers inside yourself up to the knuckle, arching your hips, trying to get them as deep as they could go, thumb tirelessly working at your clit.

“I want that,” you panted, “I want you.”

“—Make you come on my cock again and again ’til you’re dizzy with it,” he said, “fuck you so hard you feel it the next day.”

Ezra’s words were pushing you close to the edge. “Ezra, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he groaned, “let me hear you, sweetheart.”

You came to the overwhelming sound of Ezra’s broken moans and your own desperate cries and the static of the radio and the beating of your heart—

a discordant symphony of absolute ecstasy.

–

Ezra returned the following night with a full pod of supplies. You worked together like a well-oiled machine, moving various goods from the pod to the tent in an orderly fashion. You both made small talk—Cee was doing well at the Academy, the shuttle station shop was stocked enough with what they needed, no, they didn’t have real coffee, just the shit stuff in packets.

Despite the friendly conversation, the air was thick with unspoken words.

It was hot out—as it always was on this planet—so you breathed a huge sigh of relief when you had both moved all the supplies to the tent and you could leave the sweaty pod. You both discarded your helmets and stood in front of the air circulator on Ezra’s side of the tent, sifting through the supplies and placing them where they belonged throughout the tent.

When you reached at the same time as Ezra for a can of coolant, your hands collided, sending a shockwave up your arm and stopping your breath.

You both froze, staring at your hands where they met.

Slowly, carefully, Ezra intertwined your fingers with his.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he whispered, those beautiful brown eyes of his gazing at you tenderly.

You couldn’t take it anymore—you climbed over the pile of supplies between you and pressed your lips to his.

He let out a surprised little noise against your mouth before returning the kiss with fervor, wrapping his arm tightly around you and pressing you close to his chest.

“Couldn’t—stop—thinkin’ of you,” he said between kisses.

“Do you want to—can we—” You gasped against his mouth.

“Yes,” he breathed, scrambling to work at the zips and fasteners on his suit. He didn’t object when you reached out to help remove the suit—and honestly, you weren’t thinking of it as helping him, more like getting all your clothes off as fast as possible because holy shit this was happening. Ezra had already removed his boots when he took his helmet off earlier, and you were only dressed in your undershirt and shorts, so this blasted contraption of a suit was the main obstacle.

You both managed to get the damn thing off and Ezra kicked it aside. He reached back, grabbing his sweaty t-shirt behind the collar to tug it over his head. You grasped the hem of your top and pulled it up and off, throwing it to the growing pile of discarded clothing.

You were about to strip off your shorts when Ezra reached for you again, kissing your mouth, your jaw, your neck, down to the tops of your breasts along the edge of your bra. You scrambled to unclasp it, letting it fall to the floor. Ezra wasted no time, cupping a breast in his hand and lavishing kisses on the other. When you felt the wet heat of his tongue against your nipple, you cried out, grabbing his hair and giving it a tug. He moaned against your breast before pulling away to look at you.

“Let’s take this to a bed,” you urged.

Ezra nodded vigorously in agreement and you both stumbled over to his bed mat, falling atop the sheets in a tangle of limbs.

Ezra sat up and you situated yourself on his lap, wrapping your legs around him. You could kiss him like this for hours, his tongue in your mouth, your fingers in his hair, his hand steady and warm on your back.

When you both took a moment to catch your breath, Ezra cleared his throat and looked you in the eye, his expression almost timid.

“I must confess, I have not had the chance to... partake, since I lost my arm,” he said. “I may not be as formidable a sparrin’ partner as I once was.”

“Ezra, I’m sure it doesn’t matter,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again. He stopped you with a press of a finger to your lips.

“Allow me to enlighten you.” He shrugged with his stump. “Nothin’s as it once was. I can’t even take a piss the same way. Ever try to hold a dick with a hand that ain’t there?”

“Can’t say I have,” you said.

“Oh, hush, birdie, you can understand the sentiment,” Ezra grumbled. “Everything is at the behest of my damned weak hand. I can’t read my own handwriting anymore. Can’t shoot like I used to—my grip’s shit on the left. Even gettin’ dressed is harder than minin’ aurelac.”

He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair before continuing. “And as long as we’re on the subject of minin’, I can no longer mine most things on my lonesome. Each harvest is hardly half of my previous yields, and I got the kid to support on top of everything. Now, Cee deserves every bit of that support, do not misunderstand my words—I would move Kevva and earth for that girl. But such meager wages do tend to make one feel... inadequate. A man’s work is no petty thing.”

You listened to Ezra attentively, not knowing how you could get it across to him that he was no less of a man in your eyes than if he had two arms. You wanted to reassure him, but he pressed on.

“So please, allow me to posit this caveat,”  he said, “that I intend to make love to you, and to do so to the fullest of my capabilities—but even my best efforts may prove... unsatisfactory.”

Make love. Ezra wanted to make love to you. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

You were so stunned by Ezra’s choice of vocabulary that it took you a moment to process what he said.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t think you can make me come.”

Ezra ducked his head; you could have sworn he was blushing. “You always cut right to the quick.”

You cupped his cheek, running your thumb along the little white scar there.

“Ezra, I don’t care. I just want this. With you.” You glanced down to where you straddled his lap, rolling your hips a little against his growing arousal. “And forgive me if I’m assuming things, but it seems like you want it, too.”

Ezra moaned quietly at your movements. “My desire was never in question, I assure you,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile.

You leaned in and kissed him softly. He returned the kiss before gently moving you off his lap.

“Lie down, sweetheart,” he whispered, and you eagerly obliged, reclining on the mattress. He settled on top of you, propping himself up on his elbow, kissing you passionately. Eager to get your hands on him, you hooked a finger under his waistband and gave a tug.

“Whoa there,” Ezra said, “slow down, spitfire.”

You moved your hand away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’, believe me. But those clever hands of yours will have to wait, because I’ve been starvin’ for you,” he said with a sly grin, kissing a path down your breasts to your stomach, “and I can no longer deny myself a taste.”

It took a moment for your Ezra Translator to kick in. “Oh.” You scrambled to shimmy your shorts and underwear down. Ezra took over, pulling them all the way off and tossing them over his shoulder before leaning down to continue his trail of kisses.

He nudged at your thigh with his head and you eagerly opened your legs for him. Rough stubble tickled your thighs as he kissed his way to your cunt. At the first feeling of his hot breath against your clit, your hips jumped up out of their own volition, knocking Ezra off his left elbow and face-planting him onto the bed beneath you.

“Sorry!” You squeaked. You reached out to steady him but stopped yourself—you knew he hated being helped.

“Hell’s bells,” Ezra grunted. He gripped at the sheets with his hand as he slowly pushed himself to sit upright.

“Left arm ain’t worth shit,” he grumbled under his breath, “can’t even hold me up.”

“It’s alright, Ezra,” you said, “we can try again.”

“Indeed we can,” Ezra said. He lay down on his back next to you and motioned to his chin. “Take a seat, sweetheart.”

“Um,” you started. You’d done this before, but not like that. “I don’t want to—hurt you.”

“Kevva’s sake, woman, I ain’t gonna break,” Ezra said, then added with a grin, “if I suffocate on account of your cunt, I will embrace death with open arms. Well, one of ’em, anyway.”

“Oh, shut up,” you said with a groan.

“Here lies Ezra, drowned in pussy,” he continued teasing, eyeing you with a wicked grin.

You hesitantly shuffled toward him. Drumming up some courage, you knelt above him, one knee on either side of his head. You were so nervous that you could hear your pulse roaring in your ears.

Whether impatient or just eager, Ezra grabbed you by the hip, then, and urged you down onto his mouth.

You gasped, bracing yourself as you felt the white-hot warmth of his tongue against your cunt. You choked back a moan, your hips stuttering forward, trying not to grind down too hard on his face. Ezra was having none of that. He urged you to move, his hand gripping your hip and firmly pulling you forward. With a little more certainty, you rocked your hips forward and back, making his tongue slide against your clit in long strokes. You moaned again, louder this time, and Ezra hummed his desperate response, burying his face in your pussy like a man starving.

You rutted against him urgently, your thighs beginning to burn from holding yourself up over him. Your movements became less graceful, more desperate—you slid forward too far, causing your slit to grind against the bridge of his nose, and you’d be embarrassed if didn’t feel so damn good. You were right on the precipice, moments away from shaking apart, when Ezra stilled your hips with his hand and brought you back to his tongue. He latched his mouth over your clit and sucked on it, wet and sloppy and fucking perfect.

“Fuck, Ezra,” you gasped, the heat coiling inside you tighter and tighter, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—”

Ezra growled, his teeth grazing your clit for a moment, and the jolt of sensation just on the right edge of pain had you coming so hard you thought you might black out. You stumbled forward, reaching out to break your fall, your cunt pulling away from his mouth. Somehow, Ezra knew you needed more, reaching behind his head for you and guiding you back in place with his hand. He began to lap at you again, working you through another shaking shockwave of pleasure.

You had to pull away before it was too much. You collapsed next to Ezra on the too-small mattress, trying to catch your breath, feeling your thighs burn and your cunt twitch and your heart sing.

“Give me a minute,” you gasped.

“Take all the time you need, sweetheart,” Ezra said, equally breathless.

You turned to look at Ezra. His face was flushed red, beads of sweat dripping down to mix with your slick that had ended up all over his mouth and chin—and his nose. He looked absolutely filthy and you’d be mortified if he didn’t look so damn pleased with himself.

You reached for your discarded t-shirt and gently wiped at his face, cleaning up the most offensive wet patches before tossing it aside again. “Sorry,” you said.

Ezra chuckled. “I do not accept your apology, ma’am,” he teased. “That was sexier than hittin’ a motherlode of aurelac.”

“Now that’s high praise,” you teased back.

“C’mere and kiss me,” he all but whispered, reaching out to hold your chin between his thumb and index finger. You closed the distance and pressed your lips against his. It was almost chaste—if not for the knowledge of where that mouth had just been.

He pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed deeply, absentmindedly playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

You looked down at the straining bulge in his pants, snaking your hand down to stroke at him through the fabric. A little choked moan tumbled from his throat at your touch.

“Let’s take this off,” you said, thumbing the waistband. He nodded in agreement, laying on his back and lifting his hips so you could pull his pants down and off in short order. His cock sprang free, hard and aching.

You licked your lips. “No underwear?”

“Too fuckin’ hot for underwear,” he said, gasping when you gently rested your hand on the crease where his thigh met his hip.

You moved your hand up and down his thigh, making him squirm and thrust up against nothing but air. He practically whined, his hand clawing at the sheets.

“Touch me,” he begged, voice cracking.

“I am touching you,” you said with a wolfish grin.

“Damn it, woman,” he groaned, “if the heat don’t kill me, you sure as shit will have the pleasure yourself.”

“Patience,” you chided, not sure how long you could keep this up—you wanted him inside you, and you wanted him now—but you loved seeing him spread out and desperate for you.

Finally, you wrapped your hand around him and gave a long, firm stroke. He threw his head back and moaned, arching into your touch. You licked your lips as you studied his cock, the thick length of it twitching ever so slightly in your hand. You rubbed at the underside of the head with your thumb and your mouth watered when a bead of precome welled up at the tip. On instinct, you moved down to lick it off.

Ezra cursed, bucking up to meet your mouth. You held him down by the hip before taking him into your mouth as far as you could.

“Fuck, sweetheart—I—fuck!” Ezra cried out, clawing at the sheets with his hand, writhing against your hand where it held him down. When you tentatively reached down to gently squeeze his balls, he nearly sobbed.

“I’m gonna—” Ezra gasped.

You pulled your mouth off of him, then, replacing it with your hand, not moving, just holding him at the base.

“Hold on, I didn’t say stop,” he said with a breathless chuckle. “Everything alright?”

“I want you inside me,” you whispered, barely audible.

Ezra reached out to still your movements. “I don’t have protection, sweetheart,” he said, voice strained.

You bit your bottom lip, averting Ezra’s gaze for a moment. “I have the implant,” you said, looking him in the eye again.

Ezra’s eyebrow shot up. “Well, shit, woman,” he said. “Thought they only had those fancy contraptions in the Ephrate.”

“They do,” you said. “I did have some decent money, once. In the rush. Before my crew took it all and left.”

“You and I have trod similar paths, so it would seem,” Ezra said.

“The rush left a lot of us in the dust,” you said.

Ezra nodded. “The deadliest dust there is.”

After a long moment, he sat up to kiss you, just a gentle press of lips. You put your arms around him and closed your eyes, breathing with him for a moment.

“How do you want to—which way should we—” you stumbled over your words.

“You may have me whichever way you desire,” Ezra said, voice low in your ear, “and I will do my darnedest to provide.”

“Can—can you be on top?” You started, “I mean—I will if it’s easier, but my thighs are kind of killing me.”

Ezra chuckled, and you thrilled at the vibration of it against your chest. “Lay back,” he said.

You complied, laying down on the bed mat. He reached behind you to grab the pillow.

“Lift up that pretty ass of yours for me,” he said, and you did. Kneeling before you, he placed the pillow under your hips.

“Reckon my knees will hold me up longer than my arm,” he said, gripping your hip to tug you towards him.

“Guess both our thighs will be burning tonight,” you said with a sly smile.

“Worth every ache,” he replied, taking himself in hand.

He slowly rubbed at your slit with the head of his cock. You moaned, your cunt clenching against thin air as you felt wetness dribble down. Ezra dragged his cockhead through the slick, gathering it before rubbing at your clit directly. You gasped at the jolt of pleasure lighting up your body—it felt so good you could cry. You could hardly stand the teasing anymore, wanting him inside you now more than ever.

“Ezra, please,” you begged.

At your urging, he lined himself up and slid inside you with one deliberate movement. The sensation of his thick cock filling you up, the almost-aching stretch of it—it was better than you ever imagined. He grabbed you by the hip again to pull you even closer as he began to thrust into you at a steady pace.

“Look at you,” Ezra said, his voice gravelly and low, “takin’ my cock like it was made for you. Shoulda known you’d feel this good, sweetheart.”

“Ezra,” you panted, “Ezra.”

You looked up at Ezra as he filled you completely—from his pupils blown wide and his lips slightly parted, to the broad expanse of his shoulders, to the torso adorned with freckles and scars, to—fuck, where his cock was seated deep in your cunt—he was more beautiful than any gemstone.

You could tell Ezra was trying to control the pace of his thrusts, biting his lip in concentration. You didn’t want him to hold back.

“Harder,” you breathed.

“I ain’t gonna last,” Ezra said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t care!” You cried out, clenching down on him.

“Fuck!” Ezra leaned forward and braced himself against the bed, arm trembling with the effort as he set a brutal pace, fucking into you hard and deep and unrelenting. You nearly screamed.

“Touch yourself, sweetheart,” Ezra’s voice was frantic and loud, “come for me, please, please, fuck!”

You rubbed your clit for hardly a moment before you shook apart, your cunt spasming around his cock, your body consumed in flames of pleasure so intense you could hardly breathe.

Ezra managed a few more thrusts before he came with a shout, his cock inside you as deep as it could go.

–

In the aftermath, Ezra collapsed beside you, absolutely exhausted. You turned your head to kiss him, lazy and slow.

“If it’s alright with you,” he said, his breath warm and close, “I’m inclined to take the day off tomorrow.”

“We’re sure going to be sore,” you sighed.

“Well, yes,” he agreed, “but I’m keen on more...sparrin’ practice.”

“You can say sex, you know,” you laughed, “not everything has to be a metaphor.”

Ezra smiled. “I do have an inclination to run my mouth, don’t I.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Ezra just rolled his eyes before taking your hand in his, your fingers twining together.

“I just realized,” you said, looking over at Ezra’s desk, “I could’ve sat on that chair instead of your face. Would’ve made things easier.”

Ezra’s eyes widened a fraction, looking over at the chair, then back to you.

“Why didn’t I think of that? I am dumber than a box of rocks,” he said with a chuckle. “But I do believe my method is superior.”

“We’ll have to test your theory,” you said. “Do some serious research.”

Ezra nodded eagerly before setting a steely expression with a furrowed brow. “Of course.”

--

content: phone sex (well, radio sex if you wanna get technical), cunnilingus, face-sitting, blowjob, vaginal sex

a/n: listen. all the scifi sex I write will conveniently make use of “the implant” purely so they can raw-dog it. also like where tf is ezra gonna go buy space condoms. this is set in the fringes of the galaxy. it’s not like he can pop over to space cvs and get some cosmic cock wrappers for his magnum dong. they don’t carry them at the shuttle station, okay?

and yes I DO go back and forth in my fics deciding whether “come” or “cum” is hotter/more grammatically correct/etc and this is a come fic, apologies to the cum crowd

special thanks to taylor (@damerondjarin��) for the exchange of messages that inspired this fic, and for all the moral support thereafter. believe it or not this entire fic was supposed to be JUST the face-sitting sex scene and uh it expanded from there. Oops.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Captains Orders

Pairing: Peter Parker x venom!reader

Synopsis: a series of scenes following a Captain American fan through the events of finding out Peters secret, losing him, and reuniting

Masterlist

Finding out

“You never know what’s out there. Be ready for anything. That includes an extra pair of underwear in your child’s backpack. Lucky for them, I have my own brand.” Captain America, clad in his old fashioned uniform, held up a pair of underwear on your TV screen. Being as a big of a fan as you were, you tended to leave on his old commercials when they came on.

“I don’t know about the underwear, but I’ll take your advice on being ready for anything.” You smiled as you turned the TV off and climbed out the window that lead to your fire escape.

“Ready?” Venom’s metallic voice filled your ears and you nodded.

“Ready.” You confirmed and jumped off the terrace. You shot a black tendril at a nearby building to anchor yourself as you swung through the streets of New York.

Like you usually did, you encountered Spiderman while you were out on patrol. No matter how many times you explained to him that you only hurt bad guys, he always came after you to try and stop you. In turn, you sent him away with a few broken bones and a couple bruises to keep him at bay. When he approached you on this particular night, you and Venom were in no mood for the usual banter. Venom picked him and and hurled him against a wall before he had a chance to speak.

“Woah woah woah, what did I do? I haven’t even said anything yet.” Spider-mans youthful voice came from behind his mask as he rubbed his head.

“Leave us alone. You have been a thorn in our side since we started patrolling the streets.” Venom growled. “Don’t make us hurt you. We would have no problem crushing a pesky bug.”

“Crushing seems a bit extreme.” Spiderman insisted as he stood up. “Perhaps we could compromise on a simple smush.”

His sarcasm only angered you further, making you charge at him. Spider-Man skillfully slid under you and shot a few webs at your feet, cashing you to fall and roll along the pavement. You angrily ripped his webs off of you, causing Spider-Man to let out a surprised squeak.

“No ones ever broken out of my webs on their own before.” He gulped.

“No one gonna get through chance again.” You threatened as you lunged towards him. As much as you hated to admit it, Spiderman always put up a good fight. For every time you threw him against a building and knocked the wind out of him, he got in a few punches or wiped you off your feet. Growing tired of the nightly routine you had with him, you decided tonight was the last time. You shot a tendril at Spiderman, pulling him towards you at full speed and punching him in the face when he got close enough. This disoriented him enough where you could grab him by the neck and hold him up, grinning wickedly as he struggled to breathe.

You pulled his mask off at the same time he yanked Venom off of you. You immediately looked to Venom, who was laying on the floor, unharmed. You only looked back at Spiderman when you heard him making gawking sounds. Your eyes traveled up his red and blue suit until they landed on the face of your best friend. His jaw was dropped and eyes wide, and your face quickly did the same. You both pointed a finger at each other and froze, now knowing what to do or when. Venom crawled to you and bonded with you but stayed inside as you stared at Peter. Finally, you broke out into a laugh.

“Yo!” You laughed in happy surprise.

“Dude, no way.” Peter looked you up and down, unable to process what he was seeing.

“You’re Spider-Man? The Spider-Man?” You whispered so it wouldn’t catch anyone’s unwanted attention.

“And I take it you’re Venom?” Peter said as he nodded.

“We’re Venom, but yes.” You corrected as Venom rested on your shoulder. “What are the odds?”

“This has never happened before. There are no odds!” Peter exclaimed.

“I can’t believe I’ve been beating the life out of my best friend every night and I had no idea.” You scratched your head in amazement, suddenly feeling guilty about all the bruises and scratches you’d seen on Peter that you now knew you gave him.

“I can’t believe it either.” Peter remarked “Especially since you still ask me to open jars for you.”

“Venom can open jars. I can’t.” You informed him.

“So you’re two different people?” He tilted his head to the side.

“Yes, in one body. Two minds, two personalities.” You listed.

“One love.” Venom spoke up.

“Okay, Venom.” You laughed and patted her head. “What about you? If you have all these crazy abilities, why aren’t you the captain of every sports team by now? You’d crush all those meat heads.”

“If I couldn’t play those sports before I was bitten, I can’t play them after. It’s not fair to everyone else.” Peter told you his philosophy.

“Bitten?” You asked.

“Radioactive spider.” He confirmed. “And you?”

“Symbiote from another planet.” You pointed to the sky.

“Symbiote? So you guys are a host and parasite situation?” Peter couldn’t keep from geeking out a little.

“We don’t like that word. We call it a buddy system. Cause we’re buddies.” You shrugged with a happy smile.

Infinity War

You were at home, eating a big bowl of Cheerio and getting left on delivered by Peter when a rather large space ship pulled up to your window. You dropped your spoon into your bowl in shock and stopped chewing as a bridge extended from the ship onto your fire escape.

“Hey space balls, think you can do something for me?” Tonys voice came from the ship, though you didn’t see anyone inside except a pilot.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded slowly. “What is it?”

“I need you to help me with something. Get on the ship. And bring your little monster friend.” Tony continued. You swallowed your mouthful of Cheerios and blinked a few times to snap back into focus.

“Sir, I can’t get on that ship.” You said apologetically.

“Why not?” Tony asked.

“Stranger danger.” You said weakly.

“Listen Space Jam, there is a much more imminent danger at hand than the stranger steering the jet. Get on it, or die. Simple really.” Tony quipped.

“Okay.” You nodded confidently and got up. “Should I bring a jacket or-“

“Get on the jet!” He interrupted.

“All right! I’m going, I’m going.” You blew out a nervous breath and walked onto your fire escape. The jet was hovering outside your terrace and you contemplated what to do. Mr. Stark needed you, yes. But you were not equipped to fight the battles he was typically caught in. You could let him down in a big way if you went, and a bigger way if you stayed. The TV caught your attention and you saw one of Captain America’s informercials playing. They were usually dumb and pandered mostly to kids, but you admired him and often found yourself tuning in to what he was saying.

“Go out there and be brave.” Captain America saluted on your screen. Your face lit up in a smile and you stood up straighter.

“Captains orders.” You saluted the TV and ran to board the jet.

Wakanda

The space dog stalked up to Cap, pinning him against a tree with nowhere to go. When the dog was about to pounce, Cap put his arms over his face to protect himself. Just when the dog was about to get to him, you dropped down it front of him. You punched the dog out of the way and turned to asses Cap.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked. Before he could answer, another dog came running at you. You shot a black tendril at a tree, yanked it from the ground, and used it as a bat to ward off the remaining dogs. Once the area was clear, you turned to Steve and pushed him higher against the tree for support. You shot a web at his shield and handed it to him as he watched in admirable confusion.

“Yeah, just locked the wind out of me. Where’d you come from?” He asked as he looked you up and down, not recognizing the giant white spider symbol on your suit.

“Mr. Stark sent for us and flew us down here. We haven’t fought too many people before but he thought we could help.” You explained as you pressed a firm palm against the gash on his thigh, covering the wound with your black goo. When you took your hand away, the gash was gone. Steve watched you in awe as you did the same to other cuts of his.

“Right.” He nodded as he began to watch your face instead.

“Have you seen my friend Peter? He’s my age and kinda short, but if you ask him he’ll tell you he’s average height and I’m like yeah, average height of a woman.” You nervously talked as you healed a cut on Steve’s forehead. “He was supposed to text me when he got to MOMA but he never did.”

“I haven’t seen him.” Cap shook his head, watching you heal a scrape on his elbow.

“Shoot. He better not be here. It’s not safe.” You fretted as you looked up and saw the raging battle all around you. “If you’re okay to keep fighting, we’re gonna go find him.” You looked him over to make sure he was okay to leave.

“You can’t go alone. Thanos will be here any minute. You should stick by me if you’re an inexperienced fighter.” Cap insisted, grabbing your arm so you wouldn’t leave.

“Trust me Captain, I’m never alone.” You smiled gratefully at him for showing concern for you.

“Who are you?” Steve asked in wonder, still not having figured it out.

“Well, my name is Y/n, but we,” you said before turning around and catching an alien about to attack, throwing it across the woods, “we are Venom.”

You turned up to leave, only getting a few paces away before you heard his voice.

“Hey.” Steve shouted after you. You turned to look at him and he smirked.

“You mind giving me a ride?” He asked.

“Hop on.” You smiled. You turned into Venom and let Cap climb on to your back.

“Run as fast as you can.” He commanded.

“Captains orders.” You said as you took off towards the battlefield.

In the battle

You and Venom were punching as many space dogs as you could when a large axe landed a few feet away from you. You went to pick it up to swing it at the dogs, but found it impossibly heavy and unable to be moved.

“Why can’t I lift this?” You called out as you tugged on the handle. Thor ran up to you and picked up the axe with ease, using it to send a wave of lighting towards the advancing group of dogs.

“Because you’re not worthy.” Thor said smugly as he cut an alien in half.

“Why am I not worthy?” You asked as you punched a space dog and sent it flying. “Because I eat people?”

“You eat people?” Steve and Thor said in unison, making your face redden in embarrassment.

Endgame

You sat next to Scott as Steve and Tony argued, quietly looking around to admire the cabin he had moved in to. Peters face flashed among the ones lost in the snap, making you grimace and wipe a stray tear.

“We gotta do this, Tony. I lost Bucky.” You heard Steve plead.

“Who the hell is Bonkey?” You whispered to Scott.

“Some girl I think.” Scott whispered back as he munched on a pop tart. He saw the distraught look on your face as you stared at the montage of people dusted and offered you half of it.

“No. Not happening. It’s over. We lost. I gotta shave.” Tony shut down Steve’s idea of looking for Thanos.

“Please Mr. Stark.” You stood up and everyone looked at you. Your legs trembled as you walked towards your mentor. “Please. We’re the only people with the power to fix this. How can we not?”

“Look, Rocky Horror, I’d love to bring everyone back as much as the next guy. But there is no protocol for this. We have no idea what could happen if we snapped again.” Tony reasoned with you.

“But we know exactly what will happen if we don’t.” You countered. You and Tony stared at each other for a moment. He couldn’t deny that every time he looked at you, he saw the empty space by your side that Peter used to take up. He looked at his feet and sighed.

“Give me five days. If you don’t hear from me, the Time Jinx-“ Tony began.

“Time Heist.” Scott corrected.

“Time to go Eff yourself.��� Tony snapped. “If you don’t hear from me, it’s off. Sound fair?”

“Thank you.” You nodded and ran to him to hug him. “Thank you so much.”

~

“Thanks for sticking up for me back there.” Steve looked at you in the rear view mirror as you drove home from Tony’s cabin.

“I can’t say it wasn’t for selfish reasons.” You shrugged. “I need people back too. For the first time in my life, I’m all alone.”

“Who are you doing this for?” Steve asked you.

“Peter Parker. My best friend in the whole world.” You smiled sadly. You did your best not to think about the fact that he was gone.

“I’m doing this for my best friend too.” Steve told you with a kind smile.

“Right. Bucket.” You remembered.

“Bucky.” He corrected.

“Bucky.” You repeated.

The snap

“I have to do it.” You interrupted the argument over who would be the one to snap after being quiet since Clint broke the news about Nat. “It has to be me.”

“Not now, the adults are talking.” Tony tried to dismiss you but you didn’t let him.

“I’m serious. I lost Venom in the last snap. That means I’m the only one hear who isn’t enhanced in some way. That makes me expendable.”

“No. It’s going to be me.” Thor shook his head.

“Wrong, Lebowski. It’s going to be me.” Tony told him.

“It can’t be either of you.” You insisted. “If Thor does it and dies, we lose our best fighter. If Mr. Stark does it and dies, we lose Iron Man and the only person here who can make another gauntlet. It has to be me.”

“No.” Tony said firmly. “I’m not about to let a child kill herself for this.”

“Nat just gave her life for this.” You raised your voice at him. “Are we gonna come this far to only come this far? You know I’m right. You know I’m expendable. It has to be me.”

“We don’t trade lives.” Steve said, looking at you with his Steele blue eyes from across the room.

“We don’t have the luxury of morals right now.” You told him. “Trillions of people died. You can afford to lose one more to bring the rest back.”

“No.” Tony snapped. “It’s out of the-“

“Let her do it.” Thor cut him off.

“What?” Tony looked at him with anger.

“She’s right, Stark.” Thor said solemnly. “It’s a horrible fate but it’s true. When Thanos comes, and he will, we’re gonna need every fighter we have. It has to be her.”

Tony stared at him for a long time before his face softened as he realized he was right. Without looking at you, he handed you the gauntlet. You gingerly took it, your heart racing as everyone took precautions, stepping away from you and putting shields up. You looked to Steve for comfort and he gave you a somber salute.

“You better come back from this.” He told you with a pleading look in his eyes. You smiled softly at him and saluted.

“Captains orders.”

Thanos comes to earth

Right as you got out from under the rubble of the Avengers tower you saw Thanos beating up Steve. His shield was in pieces so you grabbed the nearest item to you and ran to his aid. You stepped between him and Thanos and planted your feet.

“Don’t touch him!” You cried as you swung a baseball bat in front of you.

“Is that a baseball bat? Did you seriously show up to this fight with a baseball bat?” Steve asked from the ground.

“Hello, trying to save your life here.” You shot back at him.

“Sorry. Carry on.” Steve said.

“Give it up.” Thanos sneered. “There’s no use fighting anymore. I’ve done what I had to do and I’ll do it again.”

“No. I will never stop fighting.” You heaved. “You took everything from me. Until there is no air left in my chest, I will never stop fighting.”

One swift kick the head and you were knocked to the ground. You saw stars for a moment rad your head spun. A tall man with long brown hair came into your sight and stood over you.

“Hey, get up.” He held out his hand for you to grab.

“Jesus?!” You gasped, thinking you were dead.

“No.” He sighed as if he got that a lot. “My name is Bucky. You gotta get up.”

“Bonky!” You cheered, grabbing his cold, metal hand and standing up. You immediately heard an explosion to your left and an array of screaming from your right. You and Bucky looked at each other and nodded before running opposite ways towards the sounds.

You ran towards the yelling and looked around for anyone you could help, even though you were still without Venom and pretty much defenseless. Ebony Maw saw you looking vulnerable and floated over to you.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in the middle of a battlefield? Don’t you know there’s a war going on?” He said as he approached you.

“Really?” You stopped to ask. “I thought this was a Febreeze commercial.”

“Just for that, I’ve decided to terminate you.” He began to make rocks around you float and threw them at you. You were hit in the arm and began to ran until you were knocked over by a boulder.

“No, wait.” You help up your left arm to protect your face as Ebony piles rocks on you, all with just the flick of his finger. Your right arm was still out of commission after snapping, so you didn’t have much of a defense system. He dropped more rocks onto you until you were gasping for breath and could barely speak.

You could see Cap in the distance, just out of earshot. You opened your mouth to speak, to call out to him, but no words came out. It was like every nightmare you’d had as a kid when you lost your voice and couldn’t cry out for help. Hot tears fell out of the corner of yours eyes in frustration as you tried to scream, yell, talk, anything. Instead of words, blood spilled over your lips, filling your mouth with a metallic taste.

“Help! I need help! Cap!” You tried to scream but it came out as a hushed whisper.

“He’s not coming.” Ebony said as he began to pile rocks closer to your face.

“Cap! Mr. Stark! Please! Can anybody hear me?” You wheezed.

“I’m afraid no one can hear you, my child.” Ebony Maw said as he dropped a rock onto your head, silencing you. “Not anymore.”

He turned around and began to float away when he heard the sound of rocks tumbling and moving. He turned back to where he left you and no longer saw you under the pile. As soon as he turned back around, he was met with Venom towering over him.

“We heard.” Venom snarled before biting Ebonys head clean off.

“Nice work.” Steve’s voice came from behind you and startled you. You turned back into yourself and faced him. “I was just on my way to help you, but it looks like you got it handled.”

“Thanks. I had help, though.” You said and Venom slid into your hand, as if to hold it.

“You find your friend yet?” He asked you.

“Not yet. I met Bucket, by the way.” You said as you brushed some debris off your suit.

“He told me.” Steve smiled. “Go find your guy. I’ll cover you.”

“Captains orders.” You saluted him and turned into Venom before running off.

The reunion

“I got this! I got this! I don’t got this!” Peter realized in fear as space dogs piled onto his faster than he could fight them off. He instinctively threw his hands over his face and curled himself into a ball. Thanks to his high tech iron spider suit, he barely felt the blows from the bad guys. It wasn’t until he felt himself being thrown onto his back that he began to worry. An alien with sword for a hand tilted Peters chin up with the edge of his blade. Peter felt fear rise in his throat, not knowing how to use his suit yet and not being able to put his mask up to protect his neck.

“Help! Someone help!” He shouted, but it fell on deaf ears. No one heard.

“Someone, please! Can anybody hear me?” Peter cried. Like a hand coming down into Peters open grave to pull him out, he heard a voice.

“We got you.”

The alien on top of Peter was knocked off in a blur of black. Peter scrambled to sit up and looked in the direction of his savior. He tried to catch his breath as he watched Venom ripping the alien to shreds like it was made of paper.

“Venom?” Peter panted, making you snap up to look at Peter. You slowly got off the alien, still in Venom form, and began to run towards Peter. You melted back into yourself as you ran, tears streaming down your face as your legs carried you. Imagine My Tears are Becoming the Sea as you run towards each other. You meet Peter in the middle and throw your good arm around him, tangling your fingers in hair at the back of his head as pressing him as close to you as possible. You dry heaved a few minutes as the scent of your best friends shampoo filled your nostrils for the first time in five years. Hot tears of joy poured from your eyes when you felt him rubbing your back for comfort. You pressed a kiss to his temple, before saying screw it and kissing every inch of his face and neck that you could reach as he laughed. You pulled back and kept your left hand on his face as your right arm hung limply at your side. Your thumb stoked his cheek as you took in your best friends face.

“Is this a trick?” You whispered, searching his face for comfort.

“It’s not a trick.” Peter shook his head with a childish smile, loving all the affection he was getting from you.

“What if it is? What if I wake up and this is just a dream?” Your voice broke. “I can’t take it if it’s fake.”

“It’s not a dream. It’s real. I’m real.” Peter assured you as he took your hand and pressed your fingers against his neck. “You can feel my pulse, yeah?”

“Yeah. I can feel it.” You nodded as you felt the rhythm of his heartbeat under your fingertips.

“Then I’m real.” Peter said gently, making your lip tremble and rendering you unable to speak.

“What happened to your arm?” Peter asked when he caught sight of your right arm, still red and sizzling from the snap.

“Oh, um…dragons.” You said the first lie that came to your head. “It was a fire breathing dragon.”

“Wow, really?” Peter looked at you in amazement. “Did it hurt?”

You broke into a smile at seeing your best friend excited again after so many years of not seeing him at all. His eyes lit up just like you remembered.

“No. It didn’t hurt.” You lied through a genuine smile. “I’m all right.”

“I missed you, Y/n.” Peter said suddenly. “It’s only been a few hours for me, but I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You said through your tears.

“I had a few hours to think when I was in the soul stone and ran out of questions to ask Dr. Strange.” Peter began, looking nervous for the first time. “I think we’ve been wasting a lot of time.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him.

“I love you.” Peter said firmly. “I have for years. For whatever love is at my age, that’s how I feel. I know I’m 18 and you’re 22, but Knives Chau was 17 and Scott Pilgrim was 23 when they dated so I just-“

You cut Peter off by pulling him into a kiss using your one good hand, feeling a sob rise in the back of your throat when he kissed you back. You pulled away and rested your forehead against his, only feeling him in the middle of a battlefield.

“I love you too.”

Funeral

You stood apart from the crowd after Pepper sent Tony’s memorial into the water, watching from a distance while fumbling with the bottom of your dress. You watched Peter talk with the other Avengers, a newfound sadness in his eyes as he once again put the “e” in “dad”. You sighed as you watched him, feeling a guilt you didn’t know to explain. You told Mr. Stark the snap would kill him, and he did it anyway. Feeling uncomfortably hot all the sudden, you attempted to pull your hair into a ponytail. Ever since your arm had to be amputated from snapping, little tasks like doing your hair seemed impossible. Hot tears of frustration filled your eyes as you struggled to get all your hair into the ponytail. Right as you were about to give up, you felt someone’s hands take the hair tie from you and gather your hair into a ponytail. They secured the hair tie around your hair and stood beside you, all without saying a word.

“Thank you.” You said quietly as you touched the ponytail, surprised to find it was well done.

“It’s all right.” Bucky nodded as he stared off at the lake. “I owe you one.”

“Who told you?” You asked him, feeling a sharp pain where your elbow used to be.

“Someone had to snap their fingers and you’re the only missing an arm. I took a wild guess.” Bucky smiled half heartedly. You folded your lips into a line as the pain worsened in your phantom limb.

“Are you gonna tell anyone?” You asked in a hushed voice. You hadn’t told anyone that you were the one who snapped. It seemed almost insulting to speak of it since the very same action had killed Tony. It made you sick to your stomach to know both of you had snapped but you were the one to survive and attend his funeral.

“I take it seriously when people risk their lives for mine. I’ll keep your secret.” Bucky assured you. You stared at him for a moment as tears filled your eyes until you brushed your sleeve up to look at the remainder of you arm. It had to be taken off right below the shoulder, so all you were left with was an immobile nub. You looked back at Bucky and saw him silently staring at your residual limb with a look of understanding.

“Does it always hurt this bad?” You whispered, never having vocalized your pain from losing your arm before. Bucky sighed sympathetically and slowly looked up at you.

“The pain gets easier with time.” He told you. “Mine still hurts when it rains or snows.”

You nodded at his words and looked at your residual limb again, pain evident on your face. Bucky could see you struggling with your new body and remembered how hard it was for him when he first lost his own arm.

“You think it’s ugly.” He spoke, making you look at him. “I thought my stump was ugly too. It’s not, though. Steve told me what happened before Thanos came back. You snapped thinking you were going die. You risked your life for us, and you haven’t even met most of us.”

“Someone had to do it.” You mumbled, not wanting to take the credit.

“But you made sure that someone was you. I think that’s beautiful.” Bucky shrugged, and a small smile appeared on your face. “So don’t look at it like its ugly. It’s not ugly.”

“Thanks, Buggy.” You said softly, looking at your stump in a new light.

“Bucky.” he corrected.

“Thanks Bucky.” You repeated.

“Well, Steve sent me over here to get you, so I can’t leave empty handed. He wants you to meet the rest of the Avengers.”

You looked at the group Peter was in and let out a nervous breath before looking back at Bucky.

“Okay.” You agreed. “Captains Orders.”

Tag List 🏷

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[katymacsupernatural]

A New Kind of Road Trip

Jensen Ackles x Reader

1300 Words

Written For: @spngenrebingo

Square Filled: Road Trip

Story Summary: Your husband Jensen calls you to Vancouver to show off his surprise. 

Warnings: Slight angst

The phone call came as soon as you were settling in for the night. With Jensen’s pillow close to yours, you answered the phone, closing your eyes to pretend he was right next to you. “Hey babe,” you answered, trying to stifle a yawn.

“That tough of a day?” He chuckled.

You nodded before remembering he couldn’t see you. “Yeah. The twins kept me busy. Thank goodness your Mom offered to babysit them tomorrow.”

He cleared his throat, “Listen, about tomorrow. I was hoping you would fly up here. Then we could head home together.”

You could hear the slight trepidation in his voice. It would be his last time flying home from Vancouver, from a place and a job he had loved for so many years. “Of course. Let me see if you’re Mom will watch the boys for the night too, and…,”

“She will,” he interrupted. “I’ve already talked to her. And I’ve bought your plane ticket. I just….I need you up here with me. Okay?”

“Of course. You know I’ll do anything for you,” you assured him. “And I can’t wait to see you.”

After talking a little more you hung up, all thoughts of sleep slipping from your mind. You had so much to do before you boarded the plane. 

"You can now depart the plane, and welcome to Vancouver," the flight attendant announced sweetly. You had already reached up for your carry on bag, the only item you had brought with you. Anticipation had your steps light as you pushed past everyone else. Your steps quickened as soon as you saw Jensen. He was holding a sign with your name on it but dropped it as you came flying into his arms.

“I’ve missed you so freaking much,” you whispered against his neck, holding on as tight as you could.

“Back at ya,” he agreed, his lips brushing against yours before hugging you again.

Threading his hand with yours, he guided you out of the airport. He stopped for a moment, staring up at the sign. "Last time seeing this place. Maybe forever."

"Aren't we flying home together?" You asked. At least that's what you had expected.

"I have a surprise," he smiled wide. 

A couple of hours later you were staring at the sleek black car parked proudly in Jensen's parking spot. "They gave you the Impala?" 

He nodded proudly. "After all, I've begged and pleaded, they gave up I think. But yeah, Baby is officially mine."

"Wow," you breathed out, knowing how much this car meant to him. "That's just...wow."

"So you're going to have her trailered home?" You asked, but he shook his head, his smile even wider than before. 

He patted her hood fondly, and for a moment you felt jealous of a car. “No. I was thinking it’s been a while since you and I have gone on a road trip. Just you, me, Baby and the open road. What do you say?”

It sounded like fun. It truly did. “Will she make it all the way to Texas?” You asked. Jensen’s face was full of horror as if you were insulting his grandma.

“You’re doubting baby?” He seemed astonished. “After all she’s been through with Sam and Dean, of course, she’ll make the trip home. She’s a trooper.”

“I’d never doubt Baby,” You assured him, patting his shoulder. “When do we head out?”

Turns out you were heading out right then and there. Jensen was ecstatic about taking the car across the country, and you weren’t didn’t even have a chance to settle in before you were sitting in the passenger seat of the car, Jensen packing it out of the parking lot. “What about all of your stuff?” You asked him, your overnight bag in the backseat. 

“It’s all packed up and the shipping company will have it delivered next week,” he answered. “Everything’s taken care of. Now it’s just you and me and the open road.”

“Don’t forget the car,” you said sarcastically, but it went right over his head. 

“How could I?” He patted the steering wheel. “And I thought we could do much like Sam and Dean often did. Stop for fast food, maybe even use her as a hotel room.”

You weren’t sure about using the car as a hotel room sounded that great, but spending a couple of days with Jensen on the road sure did. Just the two of you, with the windows down. No talks about filming, no toddler boys to interrupt you. Just some alone time which you so desperately craved. 

The car flew down the two-lane highway with ease, taking away some of your nervousness about this trip. Jensen had the radio on, one of Dean’s cassettes playing softly. His right hand was currently holding the steering wheel, his left resting on the open window. He had the biggest smile you had ever seen. “See? Isn’t this nice?” He asked.

“It really is,” you agreed. Mountains and trees flashed by your open window, the air already feeling the crispness of fall. “We haven’t had time for a road trip since…,”

“The boys,” he finished, smiling over at you. 

Time passed as fast as the miles, but you were happy. Jensen stopped occasionally for gas or snacks, but it wasn’t until the sun started to set that you started to look for a hotel. “There’s another town, but it’s two hours away,” you muttered. “It will be after midnight before we get there.”

“Or we could just sleep in the car,” he suggested. “We have a blanket and snacks, and I’m ready to pull over for a few hours.”

You conceded, letting him find an empty dead-end road surrounded by trees. He pulled off to the side, the Impala shrouded in darkness. Jensen put your bag in the backseat, pulling out the spare blankets from the trunk. Placing one along the leather seat, he patted on it. “Here’s your bed sweetheart.”

You sank down on the back seat beside him, taking the offered strip of jerky. “Not bad,” you admitted, watching as the sun sank below the trees, blanketing you in darkness. You snuggled against Jensen. “I could see the appeal of this.” 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “It was one of my favorite things. Everything seemed right when Jared and I played Sam and Dean sitting in the Impala. Having one of our brotherly chats, eating whatever cheap snacks we could get. We were brothers playing brothers, and now it’s over. And I...I just…,”

His voice broke off as a tear slipped down his cheek. “I’m going to miss it,” he whispered. “It’s so hard saying goodbye.” 

“But you’re not,” You tried assuring him, hating the pained expression he had. “Sure, there won’t be any new episodes, or 12 hour days of filming. But you’ll always have Dean Winchester. Right here,” you said, pressing your hand to his heart. “And when you miss him a little too much, you and Jared will take this car for a ride. Just like you used to. Sure there won’t be cameras, or people yelling cut, but it will still be the two of you. As brothers. Just like it always will be.”

He hastily wiped away the tear, pulling you tighter against him, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s just something that’s going to take some getting used to,” he sighed. 

“I know how I can take your mind off of it,” you slid your leg over his, sitting on his lap and taking his face between your hands. “You can even pretend to be Dean if you’d like.” 

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278   @bi-danvers0  @cap-just-said-language @colette2537   @deansgirl215  @flamencodiva @hamiltrash1411 @its-not-a-tulpa @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @justanotherwinchester @just-another-winchester @karouwinchester @keikoraventeller  @krys198478 @librarygeekery @magssteenkamp @misspygmypie @mlovesstories @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk  @mrspeacem1nusone @nothinbuttrouble2 @ria132love @ruprecht0420  @screechingartisancashbailiff   @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @squirrelnotsam @team-free-will-you-idjiot @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @torn-and-frayed @tricksterdean @wonderfulworldofwinchester @woodworthti666 @beabutterfly987

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