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thekidsralright · 1 year ago

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a love worth fighting for.

pairing: abby anderson x f!reader

synopsis: anderson is the name on everybody's lips when it comes to discussing the newest up-and-coming boxers of the season. with the help of her coach and you by her side, she's going for the world title. but what will she have to sacrifice to get there?

an: so, it's finally here. this is a big one for me folks - i'd go as far as to say the biggest fic i've ever worked on. ever. i'd love for this to be multi chapter, but that depends on the reception part 1 receives. if you like it, please reblog and let me know your thoughts. i'm proud of this, so be kind with your comments x

warnings: 18+ mdni. violence, swearing, references to smut (despite this chap not having any super explicit content, if i decide to continue this fic there will defo be heavy smut in the next upload - so don't even bother reading the first part if you're not of age).

The MC’s voice reverberates throughout the stadium, drowning out the cacophony of cheers, boos, and overarching buzz from the crowd. You could never predict who they would back until the night, usually finding that boxing fans are easily swayed depending on who gets the first punch in. You were hoping all support would be directed at her tonight, god she needed it. Trying to maintain a positive attitude is hard when your girlfriend's opponent is making his way into the ring, his impressive height and wide, muscular shoulders towering leagues above his teams; arms raised, working the crowd and hyping them up in anticipation for the fight to come. They’re already eating out of his hands, the bastards.

“Ladieeees and Gentlemaaan! Welcome to the main event. In the blue corner, weighing in at 188 pounds, undefeated in 48 fights; he needs no introduction folks - it’s the man, the beast, Zach ‘Thunderstorm’ Norriiiiiis!”

The crowd roars in excitement, slapping their hands together and pumping their fists in the air. Zach is one of the nation's favourites, as any undefeated boxer would be. The nickname ‘Thunderstorm’ came from the sound his opponent’s bodies would make when they hit the canvas, like the crack of lightning. You look ahead with a neutral expression, keeping your eyes focused on the empty archway ahead of you - trying not to zero in on just how big his arms were. How they could crush someone's airways, smash apart their ribs, do irreplaceable damage.

You inherently hated what your girl did as a profession, hated the way she put herself in harm's way time after time after time. But there was also a part of you that admired her for it, for the unbreakable determination that radiated from her - if she got beaten down, she would get right back up and come at you even harder. It’s what kept forcing you to show up. That, and also the tiny factor of being absolutely in love with the woman. But when she got hurt, which seemed to be every other day lately, you really wanted to grab a hold of her fucking head and shake the-

“Aaaaand coming into the red corner, Thunderstorm’s opponent, weighing in at 175 pounds. She hails from Salt Lake City, and is rising through the ranks quickly. With 30 wins, 24 of them coming by way of knockout, give it up for the new kid on the block - it’s Abbyyyyyy Andersooooon!”

And here she comes, bowling out of that archway with Coach right on her tails; the hood of her red robe covering her plaited hair, matching red gloves already fastened and ready. Even from where you were waiting by the stalls, you could see the all-too-familiar expression that befalls her face before every fight. Eyes so dark they look black, focused, unwavering; brimming with unshed aggression that are preparing for the violence that is about to ensue.

Frightening. Arousing. Another reason you’re still with her.

Abby ducks under the ropes of the ring, bouncing on her feet as she grounds herself on the canvas before moving over to her corner where Coach is now waiting. As you rush up to them, Coach gives you the look he always does before a fight - the type that screams, ‘you shouldn’t be here, girl.’ He thinks you’re a distraction, an irritating fly he’d rather swat away so he can make sure his prized money maker has the best chance at winning. You weren’t giving in that easily. Coach could go to hell for all you cared; you knew his real motivations when it came to all of this. Abby may regard him like a father, but you saw him for what he really was. A leech.

Coach shouts up into Abby’s ear, her head bent in concentration - “He’s a fucking showman. That, and a bit of muscle. You know you got the upper hand tactically; he has no fucking clue what’s about to hit him. Just stay focused Anderson, and this bout is yours.”

Abby nods resolutely, eyes trained on the canvas as she rolls her shoulders back and cracks her neck. Coach’s hands come up to grip the ropes between them.

“You gotta win this champ, you can win this. Just don’t. get. distracted.”

Both Coach’s and Abby’s eyes turn to you at the same time as you offer up a reassuring smile to your girlfriend, also now clutching at the ropes that separate you.

“You got this babe.”

She nods quickly and gives a tight smile, but you can tell from the tense line of her shoulders that she’s stressing out. Yes she’s fought before, but it was never on this big of a scale. Never against opponents like him. It was what Coach insisted was the next step –

“You wanna face off a load of wimps Anderson? Or do you wanna make it to champion status?... Yeah? Of course you fucking do. Then you gotta get in front of the crowds and beat the shit out of the favourites.”

Easy for him to say, he’s not the one going up against an undefeated fighter. But you had faith in your girl. That was never going to change. You move closer to the ring as she crouches down into the corner, Coach double checking he has all the supplies that she would need between rounds. You take her face in your hands through the division of the ropes and pull her in for a quick kiss - before she can move away, you hold her there and take her chin in your grip, eyes lingering on hers.

“Win this…like I know you can, and then come home and fuck me like a champion.”

You don’t give her time to respond as you let her face go and back away, moving into the crowd as you cheer her name. That posture of stress has eased slightly, and a smug smile is planted on her face instead. Coach, of course, comes and wipes that smirk away as he puts her mouthguard in, holding her head still as he most likely shouts some type of bull at her once again. But of course, she’s listening to him like it’s gospel. Amped up and ready to fight, Abby raises herself to full height, bouncing on her feet and swinging her arms to the side. The crowd aren’t sure what to make of her, most of them never even hearing her name before. But there is the occasional cheer for “Anderson!” amongst the rally of support for Norris. After all, people do love an underdog.

The announcer calls Abby and Norris into the middle of the ring, a hand on both of their chests as he explains, “Now I want a nice, clean game. Nothing below the belt. Are we clear?”

Both nod, pressing against the MC’s outstretched hands in an act of intimidation towards the other. Abby’s face is like stone, never breaking eye contact and standing strong. Norris on the other hand, his smirk was the show of pure arrogance. She better fuck this dickhead up. Both back away from each other, getting into a southpaw stance as the MC’s voice rings out for the last time.

“Are we readyyyyy…FIGHT!”

You forget about everything else when that bell rings; the crowd getting louder, Coach’s bellows erupting from her corner, the look on Norris’ face as he circles his prey. The toll of that bell ringing in your ears sounds like a death sentence, also signalling the start of round 1.

____________

By round 4, the feeling of uneasiness settles in your stomach and your eyes continue to follow her quick-shifting form, matching her movements so that when she ducked or flinched back, so did you. Both fighters have been pretty level with one another so far, both sending out jabs and uppercuts - only for them to be warded off before any real damage could be inflicted. It’s not enough to win though, she needs a clear hit.

Abby goes in for a right hook, ever so slightly clipping Norris’ chin and the crowd ripples in response, hoping for the real fight to begin soon. Norris responds with a clinch to stop her from advancing too quickly, wrapping his arms around and over her. You hated seeing him touch her like that, your own fists clenching at your sides in response.

The bell tolls again signalling the end of the round, both fighters making their way to their respective posts - but not before you see Norris saying something in Abby’s ear. She doesn’t move for a second, eyes unwavering on Norris as he turns his back. For a second you think she might go for him, but she’s worked too hard to let her temper win now. With a shake of her head, she goes over to Coach and plunks down on the ground - tearing off her gloves with her teeth and ripping out her mouthpiece. Her focus is still sharply on Norris across the ring, most likely getting strategy tips and a pep talk in her ear from Coach, reminding her to channel all that anger back into the task at hand.

You don’t move from your seat in the crowd, wanting to give her the space to fully zone in. She knows you’re here for her and only her, and you provided enough motivation at the beginning of the night to last the duration. You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the view at the moment either, and that those feelings of uneasiness were also coupled with an overwhelming tide of arousal.

The way sweat is dripping down her face and neck, trickling down her chest and onto her arms. How she runs her hands over the top of her head, dousing it in water and brushing through the roots with her fingers to cool off. Yeah… you really hoped she did win tonight, not just because she deserves it from how hard she’s been training, but selfishly a part of you really wants to get fucked good tonight. Especially after the show she’s putting on for you right now. And you know for a fact it’s only for you.

Abby’s let you know multiple times how much she loves you watching her fight, seeing her crush opponents to a pulp and looking absolutely glorious doing so. It’s upsetting that tonight, she isn’t doing so well. But this is what she and Coach wanted, to start moving up the leagues and facing off against better fighters - solidifying her name among the real competition. You try to stop the negative thoughts from creeping in, try to stay positive for your girl.

The rounds keep stacking up, neither Abby or Norris winning the upper hand for long. It’s evident that both fighters are getting aggravated by round 9, their punches falling on the side of reckless, their expressions displeased and downright pissed. You shout as loud as you can, “Come on baby, you can do this!” in the hopes that Abby can hear you over everyone else. And she must have done, as her head slightly turns in your direction on instinct, and Norris’ gloved fist takes the opportunity to make contact with the side of her face in response.

The crowd screams with excitement, satisfied with the fact that something is finally happening. But all you see is red as the blood sprays from Abby’s mouth on impact, her body crashing into the ropes that barely keep her form upright. You take a step forward as does Coach, you both now waiting for the bell to ring so you can meet her at the post. 12 seconds.

Come on, just stay out of his way for a bit longer…avoid the fucker for 12 seconds!

Abby’s so stunned from that first punch that as she tries to right herself on the canvas and pick up her stance, Norris is already waiting with another blow to the face - this time an uppercut that sends her head flying back and her legs out from under her.

No no no no, NO!

5 seconds.

You’re screaming for her to get up as the crowd counts how long she’s been down.

1…2…3-

“Stand up! Abby stand the FUCK UP!”

A wave of an arm and a twitch of a leg has you screaming in relief, as Abby slowly gets back on her feet before a KO can be declared, just as the bell signals the end of the round.

Abby all but bolts for her corner, leaning her body and head back against the post - her eyes shut from exhaustion and pain. Coach partially moves out of the way for the cutman, who is trying to clean the blood from her face as best they can - the enswell pressing against the areas where Norris’ punches made impact.

You can see she’s starting to give up, that undeniable fire in her eyes has dulled to a mere glow. You can’t stand it. You try to move your head further into her corner to say “Baby, you can do this, you just gotta-”

Before you can finish, Coach has climbed through the ropes so he’s kneeling directly in front of Abby’s hunched figure, grabbing the back of her head so their foreheads are nearly touching.

“You listen to me Anderson. You’re jumping about this ring like a fuckin’ monkey on steroids. Calm the fuck down, focus in on the technique we’ve been working on for months and stop…getting…distracted.”

At this, both heads turn in your direction. Abby’s expression shows you she isn’t angry about being distracted from your support; she knew you were coming from a good place. Coach on the other hand is looking at you like you went up there and hit her yourself. He never liked when you were around, always insisting that partners were just unwanted emotional baggage that could wait until after the last punch was thrown. But Abby refuses to get in the ring if you aren’t watching from the sidelines.

“Not going out there without my girl, Coach - she’s my lucky charm.”

“Well your lucky charm has been making you late to training. Gotta get your head back to the task at hand. You can play housewives later.”

But tonight isn’t the night to bicker with Coach about things that won’t change. You will both always be here for Abby, and right now she needs you. You hold her gaze, giving a smile and a wink - “Are you seriously giving up this easy? You and me both know you’ve got it in you to bring this piece of shit down. Come on Abs…fucking finish it.”

Coach is clapping her shoulders in agreement, lifting Abby up so she can shake out the stiffness and get ready for the next round. What you hope to be the last round. You take your position back up in the crowd, and get ready to cheer for your, and her, life. The bell rings out.

Round 10.

____________

She makes every punch count, unleashing herself at Norris like a fucking beast. He doesn't know how to respond to it at first, taken aback at how quickly Abby has switched up her fighting style. The renewed vigour in her movements only enrages Norris even further, the confidence that this fight was his now starting to crack under the weight of Abby’s rage.

He still manages to land some blows, but it’s almost as if she’s stopped feeling them - blinded by the sheer animalistic instinct to push through and keep punching. A flurry of blows to Norris’ face causes him to hunch down and over for relief, but what he doesn't realise is that he’s just given her the perfect head shot from above.

The blow comes fast, and hard. You wince as her gloved fist makes impact with the back of his bent head, forcing his body further beneath her.

Norris goes down, face first into the canvas at Abby’s feet.

Knockout.

The volume of the crowd increases, if that’s even possible, counting along with the MC to ten to see if Norris has it in him to keep going. You’ve never been more relieved when he doesn't move a muscle.

8…9…10! KNOCKOUT!

You’re screaming, jumping with your arms in the air like a crazy person. She won. Abby won. The MC brings her to the centre of the ring, raising her arm with his to signal her victory. She’s shouting too, showing her black mouthguard mixed with the sight of fresh blood, unable to stand still as she takes a victor’s lap, celebrating her win.

Coach rushes up, gripping her in a bear tackle whilst you look on from the sidelines - still trying to come to terms with what you’ve just witnessed. She won. Against ‘Thunderstorm.’ This is what she’s been working towards for months, hoping for the chance to make her name known among the big leagues. Your girlfriend just put herself on the map, and it wasn’t about to go unnoticed…

____________

It takes a while for you all to make your way out of the stadium, fans constantly asking for autographs and pictures with the underdog-turned-champion of the night. It was nice to see. Finally, Abby was getting the recognition she deserves. Coach was eating that shit up, as expected, spreading the word to anyone that listened that we had a new heavyweight world champion in the making. Abby would get that glint in her eye at every mention of the ultimate title: world champion.

Her head might as well be made of glass, because you can see exactly what’s happening up in that brain of hers as she processes the weight of what’s happened tonight. She can see the prize that has never been in reach now that little bit closer. And she wants it. Bad. You go to remind her to take it one step at a time, but you know it would be received the wrong way.

A number of journalists and presenters were waiting by the entrance of the stadium as you emerged into the cold night. They rush you as soon as they spot Abby. You weren’t expecting so many people to come at you with cameras and microphones, reaching around, past, through you to get to her. A flurry of voices swarm the now enclosed space.

“Anderson, how do you feel after tonight’s knockout performance?”

“Who’s next on your kill list?”

“Are you staking your claim on the heavyweight belt?”

“How will you be celebrating tonight, Abby?”

Overwhelmed, you take a step back so Abby is ahead of you - Coach now placing his arm around her shoulders to also lean into the microphones held up against Abby’s mouth.

“The next fight is coming sooner than you think. Anderson is ready to take on any of these amateurs and claim the title that is rightfully hers.”

The interviewers all look to Abby expectantly, hoping she seconds the statements made. Of course she does. It’s Abby.

“I’m ready for the next fight. This is what I’ve been training for and I'm not going to slow down now. Put any fighter in front of me and I’ll deal a knockout to whoever wants one.”

You hear this and let out a long breath. This was the flaw that irked you most about Abby. She never knows when to take a break - to step back and appreciate how much she’s already achieved. Once she gets something, it’s on to the next. You just worry that she’s going to burn herself out.

As expected, her comment only invited them to ask more, now wanting to hear the name of the next person she wants to challenge and when that would be. Coach begins to move you all forward again, giving that cheshire smile he’s perfected and a sly “you’ll have to wait and see” - most likely aiming to leave some suspense in the air so more articles are printed tomorrow.

All three of you go to move through the reporters, making your way to a black SUV waiting just ahead. From where you took a step back, the crowd sees an opening and begins to slot themselves in between you and Abby, hot on her heels with more burning questions. When she turns her head to answer them, that signature smirk on her face is quickly replaced with alarm, then stone cold anger.

One reporter is physically elbowing you out of the way to get a better angle for his picture, the flash blinding you for a second, causing your head to snap the opposite direction.

You hear her voice ring out over everyone.

“Get your hands off my girlfriend and back away. Now.”

She pushes through until she’s in front of elbow-camera guy, who is currently regretting his choices now Abby is towering over him, his mouth slightly open with a mixture of awe and fear.

“Do you think it’s ok to treat a woman like that? Do you think you can push my woman out of the way and expect me to pose for a photo?”

He’s frozen to the spot, and Abby only raises her eyebrows in response. Taking your hand and pulling you to her side, she turns you both around after muttering “watch yourself” to the wimp you leave behind.

“Sorry baby” she whispers in your ear, thumb brushing down the side of your arm. Placing a hand on the small of your back, she leads you both through to the SUV and watches you get into the car before joining you. The voices now muffled; you finally release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in since the start of the night. She was fine. She’s safe. Everything’s ok again.

Now you finally have a chance to talk just the two of you - well, you and Abby and Coach - you want to make sure she isn’t serious about jumping straight into another fight. But when she turns to you, her eyes alight with pure happiness that you haven't seen in a long time, you decide to have that talk in the morning.

You have a champion to take home…

____________

The minute you get through the front door of your apartment, you’re leading her to the bathroom to get cleaned up. She’s got that dazed look in her eyes of someone in a dream. Only this dream is real, and you couldn't be happier for her. But God, does she look rough. Hot, always, but rough.

“Did you see how fast he went down when I threw that last punch, bubs? I felt like my chest was going to explode during those 10 seconds, it felt like a lifetime to wait. I need to start thinking about my next move with Coach and strategizing ‘cos I could never use exactly the same technique, these fighters are way smarter than any of those fuckin’ rookies I’ve fought before and-”

“Woah, Abs slow down.” You give a slight chuckle as she realises her rambling, holding her hands up in defeat - allowing you to lightly push at her shoulders so she can sit on the toilet. You grab the first aid bag in the cabinet, packed with the essentials that have come in handy many times through the years. The cutman at every fight has of course offered to clean Abby up, but you always took it upon yourself to take care of her wounds at the end of the night. You both liked it that way. You were gentler, caring.

Getting down on your knees in front of her, you get to work wiping the dried blood from her face, placing cold packs and plasters over her swollen cheek and jaw. She sits there in silence, patiently watching you do it all - her hands trailing over your face, neck, arms.

“ ‘m sorry for not noticing you got left behind…don’t want you to think I forgot about you or anything. I just get carried away with it all, ya know?” she mutters, cutting through the silence - cupping the side of your face with her hand as her fingers begin to brush through your hair. You close your eyes as you revel in the feel of it, nuzzling into her palm to give it a kiss.

“It wasn’t your fault, bubs. Besides, you came to my rescue in the end…like always” - you give another kiss to her open palm, reaching up to take her hand in both of yours so you can kiss her sore knuckles.

“Besides, it was kinda worth getting pushed just so I could see you make that guy absolutely shit himself.” You both burst out laughing, leaning in close to one another as if you were best friends sharing a secret. This was the Abby that only you saw. The one who didn’t have the weight of the world on her shoulders, who could just be and not think about the next move.

You whisper, “I’m so proud of you,” and she almost begins glowing with pleasure from your praise.

Abby pulls you in by your face, hands back to cupping either side, eyes turning mischievous.

“I nearly forgot…I have one more thing I need to do tonight.”

You grin up at her, “oh yeah? And what’s that?”

She leans in further, her mouth stopping to hover just next to your ear, whispering “I need to fuck you like a champion.”

Her hand comes down to cup you through your jeans, squeezing ever so slightly. You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been waiting for this ever since they declared KO, getting wetter by the minute just thinking about the moment when she fucks you good and proper.

“Come on baby…time for round 1.”

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson fic #abby tlou #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #i love abby anderson #tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x you

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p-redux · 5 months ago

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Well, folks, the day has finally come, I'm so angry about something, I can barely speak, let alone write. But write I will...

Here goes. I, Purv, in NO WAY, approve of Bcac's blog or her. It has come to my attention that after Bcac's account was deactivated by Tumblr and then quickly reactivated, she made this mention of me. 👇

First of all, what I said I said privately in a DM. If I had wanted to offer public support, I would have. I thought my DM conversations were private, apparently not. The person I DMed with has already apologized to me for betraying my confidence. Secondly, just because I said Bcac shouldn't lose her account does NOT mean I'm cool with her or her blog. I said in DM that I didn't think Bcac should have lost her blog, but because I think everyone should have freedom of speech, in general. That's it.

But now Bcac has taken what I said privately and weaponized it to try to legitimize herself with those other than the Sam-haters and Purv-haters she surrounds herself with. And THAT I'm VERY upset about.

Bcac has toned down her blatant displays of Sam hate because she realizes she has a captive audience of Sam fans who are waiting on his every move. And she provides that for them. But let me be VERY CLEAR, Bcac has disdain for Sam Heughan. And, she welcomes people who have disdain for him on her blog. And people who have disdain for me. She regularly commiserates with and allows comments from KNOWN Sam haters. They have harassed and bullied Sam and talked sh*t about the women he dates for years.

Here's a quick sampling of MANY examples, showing Bcac talking badly about Sam and allowing others to. 👇

Aside from the Sam-haters that Bcac welcomes on her blog, she also welcomes those who have made MY life hell for years and years. I recognize so many names from the past. People who harassed me all day and even tried to dox me. That's who flocks to Bcac's blog. Sam-haters, Purv-haters, don't be fooled thinking that's not the case. I can name names if anyone is interested in DM.

Bcac herself has talked sh*t about me privately and publicly on her blog. Here's a quick example of her making fun of me and also putting Sam down in the process. 👇

Here she is continuing to put me down, even making fun of my eye issues! 👇

Like I said, this is only the tip of the iceberg of Bcac and her followers mocking me. And she's toned it down significantly because she knows many of my followers now look at her blog too.

So, yes, I don't think Bcac should have had her blog deactivated, but ONLY because I believe in freedom of speech. Even for b*tches who talk sh*t about Sam and about me. And make no mistake, Bcac and her minions are b*tches. They're just hiding it better these days. Except for the blogger who shared my DM, she's not a b*tch. But I will be parting ways since I can no longer trust her. Silly me, I thought it was possible for someone to be best friends with Bcac and also be friendly with me. I should know better after 10 years in this Godforsaken fandom.

Tumblr only lets you post 10 pics, but if anyone is interested in more crap Bcac has posted about me or Sam, hit me up in DM, and I'll show you.

So, today is the day I draw the line in the sand. I don't want to ever hear Bcac's name or anyone associated with her. Why would I want anything to do with someone who puts me down? I'm not going to tolerate that. No one should. Soooo, anyone who is chummy to me on my blog, but then I get wind you're also chummy with Bcac, will get blocked. I'm done with this bullsh*t. I get it, she finds out Sam's every move and people want that info. So, go ahead and get it from her. But, you won't ALSO be able to stay on my blog. Am I making people pick sides? Absofuckinglutely. If that means I lose a lot of followers. So be it. I've decided I'd rather have no followers than two-faced people. I like Sam and I like myself. She doesn't like Sam and she doesn't like me. You can't be okay with her and her sh*t talking of me, and be okay with me. It's impossible. Simple as that.

Those of the more reasonable calm, Switzerland type personalities may not understand my choice. Those of the passionate, take a stand, have your back no matter what persuasion, will understand. Maybe it's my Italian blood, maybe, I've put up with too much betrayal and bullsh*t in this fandom. It is what it is. And what it is...is that I'll leave this post up for a few days for people to read it, and then I'll start blocking people. So, if you find yourself not being able to see my blog, you'll know why.

Again, this is not me being upset over some minor disagreement or Bcac constantly accusing me of stealing her stuff (funny, how a few days ago, SHE stole two exclusive pics I got of the Outlander cast at the Taylor Swift concert, but whatever), THIS is because she has said and says horrible things about me and about Sam. Obviously, she does it more in private now since she wants to keep her Sam fan followers. And so many eat her info up, not knowing she's secretly laughing about you in DMs with the Sam haters. I'm done turning a blind eye to it. And I want people to know how toxic she is to Sam. And to me. And that she used what I said about her blog in a very misleading way to make herself look good. "Look, even Purv thought I should have my blog back, I must be okay." Nope, don't get it twisted, sister. And the industry people in L.A. I know who know Sam personally were made aware a long time ago about all the Sam hate blogs, which means Sam was too. Those liking, reblogging, or commenting on Bcac's posts are guilty by association. JS.

For those who have supported me all these years, you mean the world to me. Loyalty is everything, so thank you. ❤️

PS. So much for not writing a long ass post. 🤷‍♀️

#purv #p-redux #sam heughan #sam haters #bcacstuff

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lovers-tucked-into-a-quiet-cafe · 1 year ago

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Chapter 2 [IKYLHT]

~2.9k Words | Series Masterlist | Prev | Next Chapter

Wrapping the last of the bandage around your bicep, you take the water bottle from where it’s propped on the hood of the car and attempt to rinse off the dried blood that’s beginning to bind itself to your skin. You haven’t checked, but your hand definitely feels dislocated, and until Soap’s got the opportunity to set it back into place, you’re resigned to not touching it. Your leaning spot between the two headlights doesn’t provide much light for seeing the gunshot wound, but it does allow you to somewhat comfortably watch Soap push Hassan to the ground.

“Y'all got a clear picture?”

“Crystal.”

“All set.”

“Alright, we are live folks.” Clapping his hands together as he looks around, Graves calls out.

“Up here, Gun.”

He doesn’t get a response, and you watch as his eyes skin over your barely visible silhouette.

“Rabbit!”

Pushing yourself off the grill and taking a few steps forward, you remain out of the field of the headlights, still much more noticeable now.

He spares you a glance and a nod before turning back to Hassan.

You move to stand between Soap and Alejandro, watching his smirk fall as he fails to provoke Graves.

“I have no doubt you’d take pleasure in torturing me.”

Graves laughs, face tight in decently concealed frustration as he glances over to you.

“Oh I’d enjoy it. Not as much as she would, though.”

Your gaze snaps to Graves, his eyes sparkling with a sort of mirth you’re not entirely fond of at the moment.

You have just enough time to remove your grip on your bicep with a poorly concealed grimace, folding your hand behind your back and hoping Hassan wouldn’t notice the few fingers a little less straight then they’d left as.

He doesn’t get the chance, moving to turn his head in your direction but stopped by Soap’s firm tone.

“Who’d you get the American missiles from?”

The yapping of the coyotes threatens to put a smile on your face, but your gut still churns at Graves’ earlier statement.

What the fuck was that?

It was just a scare tactic. It had to be. He was trying to get under Hassan’s skin- piss him off with the prospect of being bested, and by an American woman, no less. Nothing more, nothing less. Right?

You can’t help but feel it was personal, though. Something about the tone in which he said it, the way his eyes raked over your face as you concealed your shock.

What if it was a dig at me, though? Was he making a statement or looking for confirmation? Had my reaction been the answer he needed?

You spend longer than you realize contemplating the meaning behind his words, attention only directed when Shepherd’s voice blares over the small speaker.

“I want this bastard in permanent custody or looking up at the goddamn grass.”

“General, killing Hassan is an act of war, keeping him is illegal. Right now, he is too hot to hold.”

“Tell me you’re getting something actionable, Laswell.”

“Working on it. Stand by.”

You don’t miss the way Graves glances towards you once more before rounding on Hassan again.

“I’ll ask one last time. Where are the missiles headed?”

Hassan scoffs, turning his head towards the camera and avoiding Graves’ glare entirely.

“Fine then. Go ahead, Rabbit.”

Darting your eyes to his, you glance at the soldiers around you before laughing nervously.

“Uh… come again, sir?”

“This is your specialty, Rabbit. We need answers. You know how to get them.”

Your eyes scan the faces around you a second time. Soap looks about as confused as you imagine you do, Ghost’s expression completely obscured by the mask.

“I can’t interrogate him here, Graves. That’d be a war crime, I could be court-martialed for that.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before, has it, Victoria?”

You don’t realize you’re lunging until you feel Soap’s hands on your shoulders, holding you back and blocking your view of Graves.

“How the fuck-”

“Am I wrong, Rabbit? All I’m asking is that you do what comes naturally and beat the answers out of this prick-”

“That’s enough, Graves.” Laswell’s voice filters through the speaker.

You barely notice Soap’s quiet words trying to calm you down, too busy watching Graves move towards the screen and attempt to speak to Shepherd directly.

“Actual, let me finish this.”

“There is nothing I would like more. But Laswell’s right. Without proof we need to turn him loose. See where he leads us.”

“He’s right here. You can’t be serious.” Still in Soap’s grasp, you shake your head at his words with a frown, murmuring a quiet “We can’t, Johnny.”

“I’m afraid I am, son.”

You detach yourself from Soap’s grasp and move to guard Hassan across from Ghost, grabbing the scratchy cloth and waiting for the go-ahead to shove him back into the jeep.

The cuffed man turns, locking eyes with you before smugly smiling.

“Smart girl.”

You break the eye contact with a growl.

“Shut the fuck up.”

The bag is over his head before you’re given the order, Alejandro pulling him up as Ghost slips the phone back into Hassan’s pocket.

Huffing out, you make your way back to the screen.

“Couldn’t have spoken up a little sooner, Laswell?”

You cut off her response, slamming the laptop closed with a scoff.

Beside you, the masked man looks at you, simply observing. It doesn’t ease your nerves.

Eyes closed, you take a deep breath out, screwing your eyes shut as Soap pops two of your carpal bones back in place.

“I know, Bun, I’m sorry. Hand’s done. Fingers won’t hurt so bad.”

Letting out a chuckle, you focus on the way his hands hold yours before he bends a finger, yanking it quickly and apologizing quietly.

Once he’s done, he rubs a soothing hand over your back and taps his boot against yours. It’s rare you get a moment to breathe when out on the field, so you savor the light kiss he presses to the crown of your head once everyone’s back has turned.

“Alright. Up and at ‘em, Bunny. We’ll be sure to ice it once we’re back at base.”

Patting the small of your back, he prompts you to climb the ladder first, trailing closely behind and watching to make sure he could catch you if you fell. It’s never happened before, but that fact won’t stop this little routine anytime soon.

When you reach the top, Ghost extends a hand that you accept appreciatively, and Soap rests his on the bottom of your thigh to steady you.

You appreciated the cool breeze of the rooftop overlooking the humid city, or at least you did, until Ghost’s words have your hands going clammy.

“What was that with Graves and Laswell?”

“I’m sorry?”

He doesn’t respond, eyes narrowing.

“Come on, Ghost. We both know Hassan was right. I have orders to interrogate enemy POWs, which he most definitely wasn’t. I can’t get around that, even when I want to.”

His glare remains as you watch him digest your words. You can’t entirely tell if he’s satisfied with your answer.

“That’s not what I was asking.”

Your brows furrow as your temper slowly worsens.

“What were you asking then?”

His eyes glance towards Soap who stands at the edge of the roof, offering his hand and helping the rest of the team up.

“You’ve worked with Graves before, Victoria?”

“That’s not my fucking name.”

You watch his eyes, the way they shift into something you can’t quite read.

“Laswell?”

Face dropping, you push down your desire to scoff in Ghost’s face. Your words are clipped.

“Am I the one being fucking interrogated now?”

Done with the conversation, you walk to the edge of the roof opposite the ladder. It’s only a few moments before the group joins together as one to discuss capturing El Sin Nombre.

Your mood is still sour, but you take the team’s banter as a chance to get level headed again.

“I’m just saying… one house shouldn’t be a problem.”

“We need Sin Nombre alive.”

“Well… then we need to meet him.”

“How?”

“Give ‘em what they want. Intel. They wanna know who’s here. Let’s tell ‘em.”

“In person?”

“Correcto. Get one of us inside, find the boss, roll him up.”

Rejoining the group, you lower the binoculars and finally speak up.

“I’ll go. I know Spanish, I can listen in on background chatter. Specialized in interrogation, might be able to gather some intel while I’m being questioned. It’s perfect.”

Alejandro’s face morphs into one of slight shock for only a moment before he nods firmly.

“Alright. Rabbit, when you go in-”

“No.”

You turn with an incredulous grimace.

“Excuse me?”

“Negative, Gun. You’re not going.”

Your brain lags in its attempt to force your mouth to move, half paralyzed in shock.

“That makes no goddamn sense, Ghost. I meet all the criteria-”

“Which is exactly why you’re not going. That’s an order, Gun.”

Eyes narrowing, you audibly scoff.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

“Fine. Have fun trying to keep the mask on in there, Fantasma.”

Arms crossed, you turn your cheek with a sneer.

“I’ll do it.”

Snapping your head to face Johnny, your breath hitches and knocks the air out of your lungs.

“You go in there and they’ll kill you, hermano.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Your body finally catches up to your brain and you protest with your voice raised.

“No you will not! John!”

He clamps a hand over your shoulder.

“Bunny. We came here to stop a missile, let’s stop it. I’ll offer intel for a meet with Sin Nombre. And if he’s there, we pounce. End of story.”

“Johnny-“

He gives you a look that snaps your jaw shut without your brain's permission.

It bothers you, how easily you give into his glare despite the fact that he’s in no place to be giving you orders. He knows you’ll give in, because it’s Johnny, and you trust his judgment wholeheartedly. Still, it doesn’t do anything to quell the sudden palpitations of your heart and the flashes of anxious heat suddenly overtaking your body.

“Orale- Tienes huevos, cabron. You make it in, you’ll need eyes and ears. I’ll go too.”

“I’ll take overwatch. Shadow circles the target in a helo.”

“Roger that. They are going to want proof. Show ‘em this. Call me when you need me.” He gives Soap a fist bump and a pat to the shoulder. “Alright, let’s gear up and get after it.”

Walking towards the ladder, you watch Graves slide down. Ghost stands ahead of you and offers a gloved hand that you ignore completely, turning your cheek to the man with a frown. He takes the hint and slides down after Graves.

It isn’t until Johnny outstretches an arm for you to take that you nod your head for him to go first, gripping Alejandro’s arm.

You feel your hands shake.

You’re unsure of how everything seemed to go to shit so quickly. You feel your control over the situation quickly slipping from your fingertips, and you use every bit of your military training to keep yourself in check.

“Colonel Vargas.”

He turns and looks to the arm you’re white-knuckling.

“I heard you saved Rodolfo from a house fire.”

“Correct.” He glances down again, this time in confusion.

“I like him. He’s a good man, Sergeant Major Parra.”

“He is.” He tries to gently pull his arm away but your grip only tightens. You look at him with a desperation he’s only seen a handful of times in his life. Your voice is low, he barely picks it up over the steady wind.

“Sergeant MacTavish is a good man. Sacrificial to no end, much like Rudy.”

“I-”

“You pulled your friend out of a burning building. I expect you to do the same for mine.”

He nods with a furrowed brow.

“We’re working as a team. He has the same protection as any of my men.”

He shifts to continue walking but you grip his arm all the same.

“It’s going to have to extend a little beyond that.”

He inhales to reply but you’re quick to speak first.

“I’m trusting you on this, you understand me? He’s killed under your orders? Rudy rogará por una muerte tan placentera como ser quemado vivo.”

Only briefly diverting your attention, Graves yells into the air.

“C’mon, let’s go! This is no time for chit chat, people.”

Loosening the grip on his arm, you pat his bicep with your free hand and force a smile. This time, your voice rings out steadily.

“We clear?”

“I understand, Rabbit.”

“Good. I’ll be on standby in case you need backup at any point. Just say the word.”

Releasing his arm, his hand subconsciously goes to rub at the area now feeling of pins and needles. He watches as Soap and Rudy converse, the former animatedly waving his hands as he speaks.

“You’ve been to Las Almas before?”

“No. Spent years in Mexico, though. Requested my transfer after that.”

You let a beat of silence ring out, following his gaze and locking your eyes onto the pair. You feel the corners of your mouth tilting into a small smile.

He notices, eyes shifting to your shaking hands and the way they slowly settle.

He wonders if your priorities are more aligned with his than you realize.

The tension in his face finally falling away, he nods at you with warm eyes and a genuine grin.

“You have my word, Coneja.”

Letting a small smile wash over your face, you nod once more before making your way down the ladder.

Please, if anyone’s listening, let them come back safe. He really does have a beautiful smile. I’d hate to have to break it.

Hopping off the bottom step, you make your way to the jeep, sliding over Soap and into the middle seat.

“Took ya’ll long enough. Let’s go.” Graves complains as you allow Soap to buckle you in.

You don’t have the heart to be mad at him, not when this is completely uncharted territory he’s volunteered himself for. It doesn’t help that you were more than ready to offer yourself up for the role, either. You could argue about it later, though.

Grasping his wrist as he lets go of the now-secured buckle, you pointedly ignore Ghost’s eyes following your hand from the seat next to you.

Settling further into your seat, you let yourself soften against Johnny’s form. He looks to you, holding your nervous stare with one of determination. Giving you a small nod, he brushes his thumb over the skin of your wrist with the gentleness he’s become accustomed to showing you.

With a small smile, he knocks his boot into yours, twice.

Pretty as she is, Valeria is not a woman in your good graces. Of course, being El Sin Nombre is a solid part of the reason why, but even more than that, she needs to be guarded. Being guarded means high amounts of military personnel, and high amounts of military personnel means you don’t have a minute alone with Johnny.

The steady pumping adrenaline from capturing Valeria and destroying the oil rig, along with the heavy onset of mixed emotions directed towards Soap’s reckless actions has you wanting to jump his bones. It doesn’t help that the Las Almas base is facing a shortage of size large shirts, Johnny forced to squeeze twenty five pounds of lean muscle into a medium cotton tee, now sticking to his toned chest under the tac vest.

Your gaze is redirected from his strong arms over to Alejandro’s half-smile. For such a reserved, patient man, he sure loved filling the silence with conversation.

“So, Coneja, when were you gonna tell the rest of us you speak Spanish?” He shouts over the rain and crashing waves.

You watch as Ghost turns his head in your peripherals, choosing to briefly glare in his direction before answering.

“Don’t worry, you haven’t said anything embarrassing.”

You mentally pray he doesn’t bring up the rooftop conversation you’d had after the rest of the group departed, but you see the way his head tilts and know something is going to be mentioned.

Might as well beat him to it.

You turn to him again, going to speak before he holds his hand up with a smile.

“Don’t apologize. Like you said, we both have amantes imprudentes. Have to stick together, yes?"

He averts his gaze from Soap back to you, and you feel your cheeks warm in the slightest.

“Yes.”

You’re not entirely sure what he’d let you off easy for- threatening two superior officers, concealing your linguistic capabilities, or the way he’d caught your blush at Valeria’s condescension- we just won’t mention that one.

“You two did well today, Coneja.”

There’s a glint in his eye you can’t immediately identify, soaking in his gorgeous smile and the way his silky hair reflects the light as he tilts his head.

Yeah, definitely glad he kept his word.

“Rodolfo and I are going to celebrate. Something small, drinks and dinner at the little restaurant near base. You and Soap are more than welcome to join.”

“Yeah?” You mumble with a small smile, glancing at Rudy from across the small raft. He’s watching you intently, no doubt gauging your reaction.

He smiles- it’s sheepish and hardly noticeable yet still so boyishly charming.

A light brush of his hand against your knee and you’re brought back to Alejandro.

“Yeah. What do you say, Coneja?”

Smiling and bumping your shoulder with his, you let your gaze drift back to Johnny. Feeling your stare, he turns to you with his own soft smile and taps his boot against yours.

“We’d love to.”

277 notes · View notes

capturethechaos · 1 year ago

Text

Masterlist

Request - doing a pub crawl and trying different drinks | “Stay still, or I’ll have you warming daddy’s cock all night long.” / “That’s a good girl.”

Words - 7.4k

Warnings - Drinking, NSFW 18+ Content, Fingering, Unprotected sex [Wrap it before you tap it folks!] ♡

A/n - Had to alter the dialog prompt just a tad to get it to fit better with the dialog and situation, hope you like it. Also huge fucking thank you to Sam for helping me out so much when I was dealing with a major bout of writers block ♡

Walking into the first bar of the night, you, Jake, and Danny were all prepared to drink the night away. Rules were laid out before the night began, and as the three of you made your way to the bar, the rules were as follows;

1. Truth or drink; at any point during the night, a player may choose one other player to ask a question. The player asking the question must state 'truth or drink' before asking their question. The player being asked the question must do exactly as the name implies, answer the question, or drink.

2. No first names; simple, you cannot say the first name of any other players, if you say someone's first name, you drink.

3. I am the captain now; the first player to declare themselves so, becomes the captain for the remainder of the time at that bar, anyone that looks at the captain must take a shot.

“What can I get for you three tonight?”

“Three tequila sodas, and three shots of tequila as well.”

You turned to your right, an eyebrow raised as he finished ordering. “Are you trying to kill me, Jake?”

You could hear Danny chuckle behind you, and watched as Jake broke out in a grin. “Of course not, just had an inkling that you were going to break the rule pretty quick.”

The moment the drinks arrived, you lifted the shot glass to your lips, shooting daggers at Jake for a moment before downing the shot. One of the many things you were thankful for in your relationship with the boys, was the fact that tequila was a staple for nights out and parties, so as the liquid ran down your throat, you had little to no reaction to it.

You had the wedge of lime between your teeth as you spun to face Danny, earning a curious look from him. You removed the lime from your mouth, and dropped it in the empty shot glass before locking eyes with him. “Truth or drink, Wagner. Where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?”

He smiled and nodded a bit before looking off to think about it for a moment. “Behind the counter at work.”

“At our work?” You watched as a blush rose to his cheeks, and he nodded. “Dude, that's gross, I work behind that counter.”

A small smirk emerged, hidden just enough by his grin that no one would be the wiser, but you were all too familiar with that smirk of his, and he knew it too. There was a sudden weight on your shoulder, and above the music, a voice broke through. “Hey, you two. I am the captain now.”

Danny’s eyes left yours, instinctually looking over at Jake as he spoke, and letting out a groan how quickly he managed to lose. The two of you watched as Danny lifted his shot from the counter, holding it up to you before pouring the tequila into his mouth, and you could feel the breath leave Jake's lips as he spoke in a low whisper. “It would be easier for you to get it over with now, don’t you think.”

“No chance, Jake.”

“Oh come on, Y/n, you’ve already got to do one for saying my name, might as well look at me and make it two.” You could practically hear the cocky grin on his face, and you rolled your eyes before turning to wave the bartender over.

“Three shots of tequila please.”

His chuckle echoed through your head, and your lips turned up into a smirk as the shots were slid in front of you, and Jake spoke up once again. “Three shots? Getting one to soothe the loss?”

It was your turn to laugh as you pulled one shot towards yourself. “Oh I have no intention of taking all of these.” You slid the second shot towards Jake, and kept your eyes on the two shots ahead of you.

“You see, this one is for saying your name.” You lifted your first shot, drinking down the tequila as quickly as you could before placing the lime wedge in your mouth and sucking.

“This one is for looking at you.” Jake was wearing a victorious grin when you turned to him, and a confused brow at the cocky smirk on your own face. “But only because I couldn’t resist seeing the look on your face when you realize that this third shot is for you.”

His smile faltered as he recounted the last few minutes of conversation, and you could see the moment it clicked in his head. “I said your name…”

The smirk on your face turned to a full smile as he slowly reached to take the shot. You lifted your own, holding it out for him to tap his glass against. “You did. Now, what is it that Josh says, bajabule?”

He sighed, and the soft clink of your shot glasses could be heard by only the three of you. “Bajabule.”

Rules for the second bar were decided upon on the walk over, ‘truth or drink’ remained, and two more were added;

1. Nose master; the master is chosen upon the arrival at the bar via a game of rock, paper, scissors, the winner is the nose master. As the master you can put your finger to your nose at any time while at the bar. If you see the master with their finger on their nose, you do it too, the last person to notice has to drink. The loser then becomes the nose master.

2. All drinks must be held with the players 'weaker' hand, meaning if they are right handed, they must only lift their drinks with their left hand, and vice versa. If you are caught with your drink in your dominant hand, you drink.

You had won the game, somehow getting lucky enough to play rock as both Jake and Danny played scissors.

The three of you made yourselves comfortable in a booth near the back of the pub, chatting and sipping away at your drinks as the music, which you all agreed was mediocre, played on in the background.

It took less than half an hour before Jake was on the verge of pissing himself, having avoided going to the bathroom for pretty much the entire time you had been out. He made a comment about getting another round of drinks for all of you on his way back before making a b-line for the bathroom. You and Danny thanked him, and fell into a comfortable silence, during which he pulled out the nearly empty water bottle from your bag, and you watched as he tipped his head back, drinking what was left of the liquid and leaving his neck and jaw completely exposed to you.

You tried (barely) to contain yourself, but your body moved faster than your thoughts, and before you knew what you were doing, your lips were pressed to the curve of his jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin. He choked a bit on the water as you leaned back into the cushioning of the booth, looking ahead of you with a crimson blush heating up your cheeks. When you finally looked over at him, he was already staring back at you, an eyebrow raised and that same miniscule smirk you had seen earlier peeking through once again. “Sorry… couldn’t help myself.”

He placed the water bottle back on the seat next to him, and lifted his now free hand to lift your chin, forcing your gaze to lock with his. “No need to apologize, Y/n.”

His stare was deep, as if he were searching through your every thought. You took that as an opportunity to gently place your hand on his thigh, letting your fingers splay as you trailed your touch against the now tense muscle beneath them. You watched as his eyes quickly flickered down to your hand before locking with your own once again, a mild look of warning crossing his face. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol flowing through you, or the muscle memory taking over, but your hand continued to brush along his leg, your fingers just barely slipping beneath the hem of his shorts before his fingers wrapped around your wrist, and his jaw clenched.

“Watch it, sweetheart, or when I get you alone I’ll have you warming daddy’s cock all night long.” Danny watched as a look of minor shock crossed your face, and your hand went limp in his grasp. His fingers released your wrist from their hold, and you slowly pulled your hand back into your lap. “That’s a good girl.”

Danny’s eyes wandered to his drink, and yours scanned the bar, only to find Jake leaning against the bar with a knowing smirk on his face as he stared back at your flustered appearance. You watched as he slowly lifted his finger to his nose, tapping it gently before looking over at Danny. Your gaze followed his, finding Danny staring down at his phone. When you looked back up, Jake was walking over with your drinks, and you lifted your hand, placing your finger on your nose. Jake followed close behind, placing one of the drinks on the table before placing his finger on his nose and setting down the other two drinks.

Danny’s eyes lifted from his phone when he heard the clink of the glasses on the wooden table, immediately seeing both you and Jake with your fingers on your noses. “Motherfuckers…”

He reached for his drink, and took a large swig, shooting daggers at the two of you the entire time. There was a moment of quiet between the three of you, but as you reached for your drink, you could feel both of their eyes on you… more specifically, on the hand that was reaching for the glass. You realized just before your fingers touched the glass that it was your dominant hand, and quickly pulled it back, switching it for your weaker hand and lifting the glass. “You two are like fucking vultures.”

The third bar was louder than the last, and had more people, so as Danny led the way, Jake remained as closely behind you as he could. You were going over the rules for the bar in your head in a desperate attempt to remember what you could and couldn’t do. On the walk over the three of you decided on these.

1. Nose master; continuing the original rules, the last person to become nose master at the previous bar remains the nose master until their round is played, then the player that drinks becomes the master.

2. Staring contest; if any player catches the gaze of another player, a staring contest begins. The first player to blink, or break the eye contact loses, and must finish their drink

3. Truth or drink; the rules remain mostly the same as the last two bars, with one change, if you choose not to answer the question, instead of taking a drink, you must finish whatever you have in your glass.

The issue with losing yourself in your thoughts, especially when intoxicated, is the lack of spatial awareness. So when Danny stopped at the bar, it took Jake’s arm wrapping around you to stop you from running directly into him. Instead you were pulled against Jake as someone tried to squeeze between you and Danny, and someone else bumped into Jake’s back. Your body turned slightly, as did your head, and you locked eyes with Jake. The moment it clicked for the both of you that you were now locked into one of the rules of the game, a smirk formed on his lips.

You knew all too well what Jake was like when he got drunk. Buried deep in your subconscious was a collection of memories; like the way his voice slowly lowered until it was raspy and addictive to the ear, or how his touch would tread the line between friendly and flirty, lingering just a beat too long to forget about, and his eyes… his deep brown eyes, the way they became almost drowsy, no matter how much energy remained in his body, and he would stare at you, giving you his full attention as you spoke.

It was the same stare you were locked into at that moment, fighting to keep yourself from looking away as a blush warmed your skin at the contact of his hand on your waist. You refused to be the one to break, and it seemed Jake had the same determination, keeping his eyes locked with yours as his hand slid along your side until it came to rest at your hip, his finger hooking into the belt loop on your shorts. “Hi.”

A smile grew on your lips, and just above the music Jake could hear your voice. “Hi.”

The two of you stood there in silence for a few seconds before you spoke up again. “Wanna make this a double drinking game?”

“How so?”

“Truth or drink?”

He smiled, keeping his eyes trained on yours as he nodded his head. “Ask away.”

Your smile widened, and you took a second to think about a question. “Is there a sex scene from a movie or tv show that you have wanted to recreate?”

He smirked, nodding once again. “Of course.”

“Well.” You quirked an eyebrow at him. “What movie?”

You could feel the hand he had on your hip shift a bit as he continued to stare at you. “Have you seen ‘Sleeping with Other People’?”

“Yes?” The word was drawn out as it flowed from you.

“Then you know what happens in the movie.”

“Well, yeah, but there’s quite a few sex scenes in that movie.”

“There is, and I’ll leave it up to that dirty little imagination of yours to wonder which one I’d want to recreate.” The smirk on his face was cocky as he teased you, and his fingers played with the hem of your tee shirt.

“Are you two just going to stand there all night, or can we find a spot to sit down?” There was a hint of something in Danny’s tone as he spoke, and it seemed he wasn’t pleased at that moment.

“Well, Danny.” Jake started, giving you a quick smile before turning his gaze to Danny. “Y/n and I were in the middle of a fairly intense staring contest, which I have now lost. So why don’t you two go find a table, and I will go get myself a shot.”

You could feel Danny’s eyes on you from the moment the two of you turned to find somewhere to sit. His hand found the small of your back as you made your way through the crowd. You came to a halt at a small bar table, and Danny pulled a seat out for you, waiting until you were sitting on the tall stool before pushing it toward the table. His grip remained on the edge of the chair, his thumbs brushing against the outside of your thighs as he leaned closer to you. “Truth or drink. Is there anyone in this bar that you would sleep with at this very moment.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled from you, and you kept your eyes on the drink in front of you. Slowly, you lifted the cup to your lips, your bottom lip meeting the cool glass as you spoke. “No comment.”

But Danny caught the flicker of your eyes.

He saw your gaze lock on Jake as he collected the drinks he had been served and thanked the bartender.

As Danny distanced himself from you, he realized that you had finished all the liquid in your glass, and your attention turned to him briefly before being interrupted by Jake's reappearance. A smile appeared on your face as he placed his drinks, and a few extra, on the table. “Welcome back, hey, keep Danny company for a few. I’m gonna go pee and get another drink.”

“Don’t worry about the drink, I got…” He turned, watching as you walked away, paying no mind to the words he was speaking. “Extras…”

Danny and Jake both sat on their respective stools, switching between staring at the other people in the bar, or staring at their glasses, in silence either way. Until Jake finally sighed, and spoke up. “So… how are you feeling about all this?”

Jake awaited a response for a few beats, and all he got in return was a very confused look on Danny’s face. “Y/n is being quite flirty tonight, I figured you’d be feeling something considering the two of you have a… thing.”

The confusion dropped from Danny’s face. “We don’t have a thing…” He watched the look on Jake’s face change, and he could practically hear his voice in his head saying ‘you’re really gonna lie to me now?’

“Okay, we’ve been sleeping together for a little while.” Danny bit his tongue in an effort not to overshare, but the look on Jake’s face urged him to continue. “But we’re not exclusive, and we haven’t discussed it in a while.”

Jake hummed, his focus drifting momentarily as he tried to work out a response to Danny, who sat opposite to him, chewing the inside of his lip. “Okay… so I guess my question to you is this. Are you comfortable having her sleep with your friend? If not, I won’t touch the subject.”

Jake paused for a moment, letting Danny process what he was saying as he took a sip of his drink. “Alternatively, she had mentioned something in passing while you were off taking a piss on our way to this bar, might be more in your ballpark.”

Danny’s curiosity perked up, and as you sat at the bar ordering your drink, he listened to Jake's proposition. When you turned away from the bar, you were startled to see Danny standing directly behind you, already staring at you. Your whole body flinched, causing a large drop of your drink to fall from the glass onto the floor. “Fuck, Danny! You scared the shit out of me.”

He chuckled, his hands lifting to your elbows to help you stabilize yourself. “Sorry… uh… is it true that you’ve been dreaming about me and Jake?”

He watched the blood rush to your face and chest, painting you in a crimson hue, and when you attempted to avoid his gaze, two of his fingers lifted to your chin, holding you to look him in the eyes. You slowly nodded your head, chewing on your lip as he continued to stare at you, licking his own lips as they turned up into a small smirk. “At the same time?”

You nodded again, stuck watching as he gazed at you with a look that you couldn’t quite read.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?” When all you did was nod at him again, he lifted his thumb to your lips, slowly dragging it down, pulling your bottom lip down with it. Your eyelids had fluttered shut, and a small sigh fell from your lips as he used his other hand to pull you closer to him. “Use your words.”

“Yes, Danny.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you opened your eyes, your gaze quickly locking with Danny’s. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

Jake was already searching for an Uber for the three of you as you and Danny returned to the table, and the tension suddenly felt more present. As you stood in the open space next to Jake’s chair, each of you finishing the drinks you had left while you awaited the arrival of your ride, you could feel Jake’s fingers ghosting over the back of your legs, causing trails of goosebumps to rise in their path.

The car ride to your apartment was equal parts better and worse. You got more impatient the longer you felt Jake's fingers gently grasping at the flesh of your thigh, or the way Danny’s fingers danced with your own.

Twenty minutes had never felt so long.

Danny could only watch you fumble with your keys for so long before he gently coaxed them from your hand, unlocking the door and opening it for you to walk in ahead of him. Both Danny and Jake had been in your apartment before, but you could see the difference in their comfort levels. As Danny casually kicked off his shoes and sauntered into the kitchen, Jake slowly closed the door behind him, sliding off his shoes and shrugging off his jacket. You sat on the bench next to your front door and bent down to untie your shoes. The movement pressed your belt into your stomach, pulling a hushed hiss from you that Jake just barely heard over the loud proclamation Danny called out when he found your cat, Samson.

As you fought with the tangled knot of your shoe, you noticed a pair of feet stop a few inches from your own, and as you looked up at Jake, he kneeled down. When your eyes met with his own, his lips curled into a warm smile, and he quickly looked down, untying the knots in your laces and pulling the shoes from your feet. Only once they were both off and placed to the side did Jake look back up at you.

Your eyes followed him as he lifted from his kneeling position in front of you. As he looked down at you, he gently placed his hands on your cheeks and leaned down until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. “You really are beautiful, have I ever told you that?”

Slowly, you shook your head, and your lips parted just enough for a single word to escape. “Jake.”

His lips turned from his usual grin to a pleased smirk as he noticed the change in your breathing. “Yes, Y/n?”

“Kiss me.”

His smirk deepened, and he closed the distance between you, stopping when his lips brushed your own. “Since you asked so nicely.”

You were never sure what it would be like to kiss Jake, but you were pleasantly surprised, as his lips connected with yours, that his kiss mirrored his warm disposition. You couldn’t help but melt into him, letting his hands do the work of keeping your head up.

There was no air left in your lungs when he pulled away, leaving you breathless as he straightened himself out. He didn’t look much different from you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took. Jake helped you up off of the bench, and kept his hand wrapped around your own as he led you toward your bedroom.

Your eyes drifted around the corner as you passed the kitchen, watching for a moment as Danny continued to stand in front of your fridge petting Samson, who was lounging in his bed at the top, before attention was pulled back to Jake, who had gently tugged on your hand.

Jake made his way into your room, turning to you as your hand slipped from his, and he quickly raised a curious brow at the mischievous look on your face. You made a slight shooing motion with one hand, and the other reached for your doorknob. “You’re welcome to sit on my bed, I’ll join you in a minute.”

He continued to give you a questioning look as he shuffled over to your bed, and as you turned your back to him, he made himself comfortable leaning back against the headboard. He watched as you poked your head through the now narrow crack between your bedroom door and its frame. “Oh Danny, better get here quick before Jake gets me all to himself in here.”

You could hear Danny turn and begin walking toward your room, waiting until he turned the corner and locked his eyes on you to shoot him a quick wink and close the door behind you, locking it before he had the chance to stop you.

The doorknob turned as you stepped further into your bedroom, slipping into your closet and quickly stripping out of the clothes you had been wearing all night, changing instead into an oversized tee shirt. When the door didn’t open, you could hear Danny groan. “Come on, Y/n. Open the door.”

You turned briefly to Jake, a wicked grin on your lips for only a moment before you turned back to the door, unlocking it and putting on your most innocent expression as you opened it. Danny stood on the other side of the door, already staring at the spot he was expecting you to be in, and you watched as his eyebrow cocked at your change of appearance. “Hiya, Danny. Funny seeing you here.”

Danny’s jaw clenched, but you watched his lips curl into a grin as wicked as the one you had shown Jake. He stepped forward, quickly lifting you off of the ground and taking a few steps into the bedroom before tossing you onto your bed. “Fair warning, Jake…” You could feel the dip in the mattress as you sat up, not from your own weight, but from Danny shuffling up behind you. “She can be a bit of a brat sometimes.”

Jake was already looking back at you when your eyes lifted to look at him, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “Is that so?”

You could feel the heat of Danny’s breath as his lips ghosted along your shoulder, and pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding at Jake as Danny’s lips trailed to the spot behind your ear, kissing the spot that always makes your spine tingle. “You wanna prove you can listen, sweetheart?”

When all you do in response is nod again, you feel his teeth nip lightly at your skin. “Use your words.”

“Yes, Danny.” He can’t see the playful roll of your eyes, but Jake catches it, and does the same. “Let me prove I can listen.”

His hands teased at the hem of your tee shirt, running along the curve of your hips, lifting the fabric until he could feel the lace of your bra, then dropping it. He did this repeatedly until you finally let out an impatient sigh. “Just take it off, Danny.”

His movements stopped, leaving his hands resting on your hips. “Why should I?”

You knew what he was looking for, all he wanted was for you to say please, to ‘make it sound pretty’ as he had said during one of your past hookups. Your eyes were locked on Jake’s, and he watched as the wicked little smirk returned to your lips. “Because I really want to show Jakey my lingerie, I know he’s got a thing for it.”

Danny’s hands twitched against your skin, tightening for a moment. “Can you ask nicely?”

“Please, Danny.” You leaned back, resting against his chest and tilting your head back until your lips were against the shell of his ear. “Take off my shirt so that Jake can stare at my tits.”

“Can I do more than stare?”

Both your eyes, and Danny’s drifted to Jake, somewhat awkwardly sitting at the head of your bed, rubbing his hands over his jean covered thighs. You broke into a grin and straightened yourself out. “Depends… will you take my shirt off? ‘Cause it doesn’t seem like Danny wants to.”

Jake's eyes flickered away from yours for only a moment, but when he looked back at you, you felt Danny tug on the fabric of your shirt, lifting it up until you had to raise your arms to assist in its removal.

A low whistle came from Jake’s lips as you dropped your hands back to your sides. He held out a hand to you, and watched as you shuffled forward, placing your hand in his. The smile on his face was contagious as he studied all that had been revealed to him. You could feel Danny’s hands drop from your hips as you moved closer to Jake, and as soon as you were close enough, you leaned forward to brush your lips against the shell of his ear. “You remember what I asked you earlier, Jake?”

You pulled away just enough to see his adam's apple bob and his lips parted. “The uh… the movie thing?”

You nodded, and lifted your hand to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart beneath your palm. “You gonna show me which scene it is now?”

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, and simply stared at you in awe for a moment before nodding. “Gonna need you to turn around for me, gorgeous.”

Your eyes remained on him as you slowly turned away from him, and he slid off the bed, already fumbling with the button of his jeans. Once they were on the floor, he kneeled on the bed, shuffling himself behind you. Your eyes had drifted to Danny, and he watched as your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of Jake's hands ghosting up your arms. He brushed the hair from your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck before brushing them up your throat, stopping when he could feel the delicate skin of your ear beneath his lips. “Hands and knees.”

Your chest was rapidly rising and falling with every desperate breath, and he had barely even touched you. Slowly, you leaned forward, planting your hands a few inches from where Danny was sitting, glancing up at him as Jake’s hands found your hips. You were dragged back a bit, a small gasp falling from between your lips as your ass came in contact with the cotton of his boxers. He was hard, and the two layers of fabric between you left very little to the imagination.

One of Jake's hands drifted from your hip, running over the swell of your ass before dipping between your thighs. A low hum rumbled from his chest as he ran his fingers along your lace covered slit, feeling the build up of arousal that the two of them had caused. “So wet already, doll, and we’ve barely even touched you.”

His middle finger hooked around the lace, slipping them to the side and sweeping his knuckle over the newly bare skin. The subtle touch alone had small whimpers falling from you. Slowly, you felt the tips of his middle and ring fingers teasing at your entrance. He made sure the digits were completely coated in your slick before slipping them forward, taunting you with their barely-there touch over your clit.

Your head lifted, and with it your eyes drifted up to Danny’s face. He was already looking down at you, a pleased little grin adorning his face. The movement caught Jake’s attention, and as you and Danny locked eyes, Jake moved his fingers, beginning to slowly sink them into you, causing you to lurch forward and reach for Danny with one of your hands.

The rhythm Jake had chosen was addictive, drawing you closer as one hand gripped the sheets, and the other found purchase on Danny’s thigh. Danny lifted a hand to your face, his palm against your cheek as his other hand wrapped around your own. You watched as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, using his hand to drag yours over his fabric covered cock.

You were treading the line, getting closer and closer to release with every sweep of Jake’s fingers inside of you, and he could tell. “Squeezing me so tight, baby. You getting close?”

You kept your eyes on Danny as you slowly nodded. “Yes, Jake… so fucking close.”

His fingers slipped out of you, earning a disappointed groan from you. You turned as best as you could, watching as the hand Jake had been using to pleasure you, was pulling at the band of his boxers, lowering them just enough for him to pull his cock out. He caught you staring, and a cocky grin overtook his lips, watching as you chewed on your bottom lip.

It was divine, the breathy moan that cascaded from Jake’s lips as he ran the tip of his cock along your slit, coating himself in you. He could feel the buck of your hips as he teased the tip over your clit, before trailing it up to your entrance. The pressure of him pushing just the tip into you was driving you crazy, and desperately you turned to him, giving him your most pleading expression. “Please, Jake. I want it all, fuck me… please.”

He was bigger than you expected. No matter how many of his exes you had talked to, or how many nights you couldn’t help but imagine it, none of that compared to the exquisite stretch you felt as he inched his cock into you.

“Fuck, Jake. Feels so good.” Both of your hands tightened their grip as you moaned at the feeling of Jake fully pressed into you, his hips brushing the skin of your ass. You could hear the quiet huff that Danny released, and quickly realized that your hand was still pressed against his confined erection.

Jake began to slowly pull himself out, inching away from you until only the head of his cock remained inside, before thrusting back into you, slowly beginning to build a rhythm. “I know, baby. You feel fucking phenomenal.”

Your focus was divided, feeling the electric pleasure shooting through you as Jake fucked you, and palming Danny over his shorts, watching as his eyes were borderline closed, remaining only open enough to watch your face twist in pleasure. Your hand moved, drifting to the button of Danny’s shorts and popping it open before slowly dragging the zipper down, revealing the soft, black fabric of his boxers.

Your own movements distracted you from Jake’s, and as you went to dip your hand into Danny’s boxers, Jake's arm wrapped around your torso. He pulled you from the mattress, pressing your back into his chest as he continued to rock his hips into yours. Danny was wearing a pleasantly surprised expression when he looked up at you, stretched against Jake's body as the hand he had used to lift you gripped your hip, and the other trailed at an excruciatingly slow pace up your body.

Your eyes were still on Danny, watching as he sat there with his pants unbuttoned, still fully clothed, staring at you. “Danny.”

His smile widened at the sound of your already fucked out voice saying his name. “Yes, sweetheart?”

Despite the situation you were in, Danny's use of the soft nickname brought a warm blush to your chest and face. “Can you take off your shirt please?”

He chuckled lightly at the polite request, but quickly reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it onto the floor of your bedroom. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight of him. The hooks of your bralette were undone by Jake as your attention remained on Danny, but Danny caught the movement, he watched as Jake gently pushed the straps from over your shoulders and pulled the small article of clothing from your warm skin.

A particularly hard thrust from Jake had your head lulling back onto his shoulder, his name tumbling from your lips in a breathy gasp. The tingle of his touch traveled from between your tits until his palm rested against the skin of your throat, his fingers pressing lightly against your jaw to keep your head back as his lips brushed against your ear. “Danny looks like he wants to devour you, baby.”

You can't help the giggle that bubbles from you. “Let him. He knows I love the feeling of his mouth on my body.”

The feeling of Danny's tongue running in the valley between your breasts drew a long moan from you. Your body leaned into the warmth of his mouth on you, kissing across the tops of each breast before wrapping his lips around one nipple, and toying with the other between his fingers. Your hands reached for each of the men attached to you, one stretching behind you to entangle your fingers in Jake's hair, as the other roamed Danny’s torso, finally teasing past the band of his boxers and feeling the weight of his cock in your palm.

“You remember this part of the movie, gorgeous?” His voice was teasing as he slowed his thrusts, putting purpose behind each roll of his hips.

“Don’t think it went exactly like this, Jake.”

You could feel the rumble of his chest as he chuckled, and his grip on your hip tightened for a moment. “Well, there’s alway room for improvement, right?”

“Agreed.”

“There is one thing though…” The hand he had resting on your hip swept across your navel, his middle and ring fingers ghosting over your clit as his words drifted from his lips directly into your ear. “What was it that she said in that scene?”

You let out a breathy laugh at that, and as you felt the pressure of his fingers against your clit, you tilted your head, leaving only millimeters between your lips and Jakes. “Be rude to it.”

His hips stuttered as the words left your lips, and even Danny bucked into your hand, but you had no time to revel in the feeling before Jake's fingers began to work at the bundle of nerves between your legs.

It was overwhelming, the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through your body at the touch of these men. You lost yourself in the feeling as you gave into your orgasm. You were no longer holding yourself up, instead being held up by Jake's grasp around your hip, and Danny’s head on your chest.

Jake’s hips slowed, but never stopped as he worked you through the high, and both hands moved to support your hips. His head dropped to your shoulder, peppering kisses along your shoulder. “I’m so close, where… uh… where do you want me?”

You giggled, a bright sound to break the moaning and breathing that had overtaken the room. Both of your hands moved to Danny’s shoulders to hold yourself up. “Danny, can you scooch back for me please.”

Danny nodded, moving back enough for you to arch your back, and you simply turned to look at Jake. “Make a mess of me, Jake.”

You watched as his eyes rolled back, and his bottom lip was drawn between his teeth as he slowly pulled himself out of you. It was a bit straining on your neck, but you couldn’t look away as he ran his hand along his cock, setting a pace that had him painting your lower back with his cum within a few moments. You hummed at the feeling, leaning your weight on Danny as Jake fell back against your headboard, his chest heaving as he came down.

You turned, looking at Danny with a soft, fucked out smile, and found that he was already looking at you. He kept one hand on your waist, helping to hold you up as the other lifted to your face, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

The little moment you were sharing was interrupted when you felt a piece of cloth against your back, and the two of you turned your attention to Jake, who had picked up the ratty tee shirt you had been wearing off of the floor to wipe his cum from your skin. He had put his jeans back on, and when he finished cleaning you off, he tossed the shirt into your hamper. “I think I’m gonna… head out.”

His words had you fully turning to look at him. “Oh? You can stay, you know? You don't have to leave.”

He smiled, stepping forward to press a kiss to your cheek. “No, I should go. I had fun.” When he stepped away, he tripped over Danny’s shirt, but caught himself, stumbling backward towards the door. “I feel like whatever is about to happen would be better left between just the two of you.”

You and Danny turned to look at each other, and though he remained staring at you, you turned back to Jake after a moment. “Okay… um. Well, if you’re hungry, you’re more than welcome to take a slice of leftover pizza from my fridge on your way out.”

He chuckled, walking through the door frame and out into the hallway. “Thanks, Y/n. I’ll see you guys later.”

You and Danny sat in silence staring at each other, listening to Jake as he walked to the kitchen, took a slice of pizza, and said a brief goodbye to Samson before leaving the apartment. When the sound of the door closing echoed through the apartment, you fell back onto your mattress, turning to look at Danny with a smirk on your lips. “Why are you still wearing pants?”

If you could listen to his laugh for the rest of your life, you would. Danny slid off of your bed, shedding the remainder of his clothing before crawling back onto your bed, and on top of you. The two of you simply stared at each other for a minute, as he slowly lowered himself until his nose was brushing against yours. “Hi.”

The smirk on your lips turned to a full fledged smile. “Hi.”

“So uh… I don’t want to kill the mood, but can we talk real quick?”

“Of course, Danny, what’s up?”

He rolled off of you, landing next to you with a small bounce. “I… um… god, I don’t know how to word this.”

You watched for a while as he floundered, trying to find the right words, before you butt in. “I want that too, Danny.”

He turned to you, with the look of a deer caught in the headlights, opening and closing his mouth a few times before finally speaking. “Really, but… tonight, with Jake.”

You rolled over, entangling one of your legs with his and splaying your hand over his chest. “Tonight was fun, but it’s not what I want. I want you, Danny.”

“Really?”

You giggled, nodding at him. “Of course, I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same.”

Danny’s smile could light up any darkness you could find yourself in, and he wrapped his hand over the one you had on his chest, pulling it up until his lips pressed against your knuckles. “I have felt the same for longer than I can remember.”

His hand loosened from around yours, and you placed your hand against his cheek, watching as he turned to press a kiss to your palm as his hand trailed along your body, wrapping around the thigh you had thrown over his, and tugging it, pulling you fully on top of him. The sudden movement drew a gasp from your lips, and you watched as his expression turned mischievous. You could feel his erection between you, and slowly rolled your hips over his, effectively coating the length of his cock in your arousal.

“Not gonna last long, sweetheart, I’ve been worked up all night because of you.” His voice was strained, holding back a moan as you continued to rock your hips against him.

You snuck your free hand to the space between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around his length and lining him up, slowly sinking down on his length and listening to the divine, drawn out moan that came from him as all the pent up tension between the two of you finally came to a head.

To his credit, he lasted longer than either of you thought he would. The both of you were so worked up, and your last orgasm had left you sensitive, so it was no surprise that when your second of the evening rolled through you, Danny was close behind. He released all that he had into you, easing into the mattress beneath him as you relaxed on his chest, both of you remaining in a comfortable silence as you slowly caught your breath.

“Is it bad that I don’t want to get up?”

He chuckled, running his fingers up and down your spine for a couple minutes before responding. “I don’t either, but we should probably clean up before we both pass out.”

“Agreed.”

Neither of you moved, remaining curled up together for another ten-ish minutes before you finally groaned and conceited, sliding off of Danny, and the bed. “Come on, let’s do this. I wanna get cuddled up and go to sleep.”

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#in the heat of a gvf summer #greta van fleet smut #jake kiszka x reader smut #jake kiszka smut #danny wagner smut #danny wagner x reader smut

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snowdrop-ivy · 1 month ago

Text

The Light Within: II - Way Down We Go

Summary: In a world where danger lurks at every corner, will Anna and Bucky find the strength to confront their pasts and embrace a future together, or will their scars keep them apart forever?

The quiet tension of the café was suffocating. Sokovia had changed everything—heroes, villains, and the fragile world caught in between. For Anna, the simplicity she craved felt like a distant dream, especially now, sitting across from her old friend Ade, pretending to sip coffee while her mind reeled with the task ahead. Rumlow was lurking somewhere, and they needed to find him. Fast.

Her earpiece buzzed to life. Steve’s calm, calculated voice cut through the haze. “All right, what do you see?”

Anna glanced around, her eyes scanning the ordinary street that belied the storm brewing beneath it. “Cops. Civilians. Quiet street,” she responded, her voice low as she took another sip.

“There’s an ATM on the south corner, which means?” Steve’s voice pressed on.

“Cameras,” Wanda answered, pulling her cap lower, as if trying to shield herself from more than just recognition. “Both cross streets are one way. So, compromised escape routes.”

Anna’s gaze flickered to Ade, her voice dropping to a whisper. “This guy doesn’t care about being seen. He’s not afraid to make a mess. But we can’t. We screw this up, we’re done. And this mission’s not authorized, which means if we mess up—well, we’re fucked.”

Sam’s playful whistle buzzed through the comms. “Ohhh, language.”

Steve, ever the soldier, got straight to business. “See that Range Rover halfway up the block?”

Anna couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at her lips. “That’s our getaway car?”

Natasha chimed in, her voice dry as ever. “It’s bulletproof, which means more guns. More security. More headaches. Probably ours.”

Anna shrugged at Nat’s glance, the unspoken understanding between them palpable. They had been through too much to need words.

Wanda’s voice cut through the chatter. “You guys know I can move things with my mind, right?”

Anna snickered, her tone sharp. “You say it like it’s a good thing. Newsflash—it’s not.”

Wanda’s eyes flickered with a shadow of hurt. “You still hate me, huh? I didn’t mean to… with Tony…”

Anna’s face hardened. “Let’s just not screw up this time.” The truth was, Anna didn’t hate Wanda. But powers weren’t something to be proud of—they were a burden, and they had caused too much chaos already.

Steve’s voice broke through their moment, sharp and commanding. “Eyes on the target, folks. This is the best lead we’ve had on Rumlow in six months. I don’t want to lose him.”

Anna felt the tension in her gut. Sam’s voice, tinged with his usual humor, lightened the mood briefly. “If he sees us coming, that won’t be a problem.”

Anna chuckled, though it felt hollow. “Yeah, he kinda hates us.”

They had a plan—or at least the semblance of one. Ade would stay inside the bank, her position secure. The rest of them were scattered like shadows, waiting for the inevitable clash.

The moment the truck appeared, all hell broke loose. Sam’s sharp call echoed through the comms, followed by the snap of action. Anna’s body surged into motion, her powers rippling through her veins as she hurled the truck into the air with a flick of her mind. Gunmen swarmed, but she was faster, crushing their weapons and slamming them into the pavement.

Steve was beside her in seconds, their synchronization instinctive after years of fighting together. “Body armor. AR15s. I make seven hostiles.”

Anna took to the roof, disarming two gunmen with a force field and sending them hurtling into a nearby tree. “Make that five.”

Sam and Wanda were swift, dispatching two more, leaving only three. Rumlow was somewhere in the chaos, and Anna’s focus narrowed as Steve called out, “Just like before.”

With a nod, Anna projected him to the third floor. She and Wanda split up, controlling the gas leak before it spread to the civilians below. Wanda sent it into the air, but Anna’s warning was quick, sharp. “Great job, but careful. That’ll explode.”

Wanda smiled at the rare compliment, but the moment of peace was shattered as Natasha fell into the truck. A bomb was tossed in behind her. Anna was on it in an instant, crushing the soldier and throwing up a force field just in time to contain the blast.

“You good?” she asked, her breath ragged.

“Just a scratch,” Nat quipped, taking Anna’s hand to stand. But there was no time to relax. An explosion rocked the building where Steve was fighting Rumlow, and Anna’s heart sank as she saw Rumlow making his escape.

Then it happened. Rumlow detonated his payload.

“Wanda!” Anna’s scream tore through the air. “Force field now!”

They both reacted, but Wanda’s control faltered. The force field lashed out, throwing Anna back and sending Rumlow crashing into the building—the very one Anna had warned them not to touch. Her blood ran cold. Ade was inside.

The flames engulfed the structure in seconds. Anna’s world tunneled as Steve held her back from the inferno. “You can’t go in!” he shouted.

“I said let me go, Rogers!” Anna’s voice was raw, filled with a fury that only grew as she realized the depth of the catastrophe. Steve, seeing the fire in her eyes, relented.

She flew to Wanda, tears streaming down her face, her body trembling with rage and grief. She grabbed Wanda’s jacket, her voice barely holding together. “She has a family. Who’s gonna tell them now?”

Wanda’s face twisted in fear—of Anna, of herself, of the destruction she couldn’t take back.

Days had passed, each one dragging painfully into the next. Anna had locked herself away, avoiding the outside world, even Tony. She buried herself in her room, enveloped by grief and loss, each heartbeat echoing the absence of her friend. Photos of happier times stared back at her, reminders of joy now shadowed by the faces of her children—their expressions twisted in confusion when she had finally revealed the heart-wrenching truth.

Just then, FRIDAY’s voice pierced her solitude, startling her. “Anna, Mr. Stark is looking for you.”

“Tell him I’m sick,” she replied, the lie tumbling out of her mouth, a flimsy shield against the reality she couldn’t bear to face.

“He said if you don’t come out, he’ll break the door.”

With a heavy sigh, she rose and entered his room. There, a hologram of his parents danced in the air, and a young Tony stood among them, a ghost from the past. Leaning against the door frame, she crossed her arms, bracing herself.

“You like it, kid?” Tony asked, his back still turned to her.

“What’s this?” she asked, her curiosity dulled by her sorrow.

“Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing,” he explained, the excitement in his voice overshadowed by the weight of the moment. “B.A.R.F. I really need to work on that acronym.”

“Nice,” she replied, her tone flat, the enthusiasm escaping her like air from a punctured balloon.

“You wanna use it?”

His question took her by surprise. She braced herself, half-expecting a lecture about her choices, but instead, he stood before her, concern etched across his features.

“For what?” she asked, her mind racing.

“You know,” he sighed, stepping closer. “My poor kid, have you been sleeping?”

Anna couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m okay.”

“Like hell you are,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood, his voice laced with genuine concern. “I won’t push you. Whatever you’re thinking, I’m just here when you’re ready to talk.”

She shot back, “So unlike you.” In that moment, a flicker of understanding passed between them, and without thinking, she rushed into his arms. Tony was taken aback but quickly embraced her, inhaling her scent, kissing her head, wishing time would freeze. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You got it, kid,” he said, his grip firm but gentle, taking in the changes he could see so clearly now. She could sense the turmoil in his heart, a whirlwind of emotions tied to Miriam Sharpe and the aftermath of Sokovia.

“Let’s go, they’re waiting for us,” he finally said.

As they entered the conference room, the atmosphere shifted. Everyone was already present, the tension palpable. Wanda’s heart sank at the sight of Anna, recognizing the damage that had been done, the violet bruise peeking out as Anna hurried to cover it. Steve hesitated, grappling with how to approach her, while Natasha exchanged glances with Anna, their shared understanding lingering in the air.

Anna sat down behind Steve, crossing her arms and legs defensively. He cast worried glances her way, but she turned away, her head hung low until Ross entered and launched into a monologue. Anna’s focus drifted, her gaze fixed on the wall behind him, trying to filter out his words.

“What term would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Natasha asked.

“How about ‘dangerous’?” Ross shot back, his gaze fixed on Anna and Wanda. “What do you call a group of US-based enhanced individuals who routinely ignore borders and impose their will, seemingly unconcerned about the consequences?”

He displayed footage—memories of their actions laid bare for all to see. Each frame felt like a punch to the gut. Anna fought against the rising tide of emotions, her throat constricting painfully as the reality of their actions became undeniable. It was when the images from Laos flickered onto the screen that the dam broke. Tears streamed down her face, a painful reminder of the lives they had shattered.

Steve noticed, his expression shifting as he caught sight of the raw pain etched on her face, the redness around her eyes betraying her sleepless nights.

“All right, that’s enough,” he finally said, a protective edge to his voice.

Ross pressed on, unfazed. “For the past four years, you’ve operated unchecked. That ends now.”

Anna took a trembling breath, wiping her tears as Ross set a book on the table. “The Sokovia Accords,” he declared, “approved by 117 countries. The Avengers will no longer be a private organization. They will operate under a UN panel’s supervision.”

Steve’s face fell, hurt flickering across his features as he turned toward Anna. “You knew about this?”

“Eleven,” she murmured, her voice steady yet filled with emotion.

The room fell silent, everyone’s attention shifting to her.

“That’s how many people died in Lagos, including Ade. New York? Seventy-four. DC? Two hundred. Sokovia?” She leveled her gaze at Steve. “Three thousand. Three thousand and one if you count Pietro. So tell me, Captain, do you still think this world is a safe place?”

Steve’s jaw tightened, the weight of her words settling in.

“If you hear about it, those are just numbers, right?” she continued, her voice firm. “But those are people—human beings—that we— not Ultron, Loki, HYDRA, or Rumlow—killed. Take those numbers, multiply them by their families: their kids, parents, spouses, siblings. Soak that in. That’s how many lives we’ve destroyed.”

Silence enveloped the room until Ross broke it. “You have three days to decide before the UN meets in Vienna. Talk it over.”

The team retreated to the common room, the air thick with unspoken tension. Tony slumped in a chair, his head resting on his hands, while Nat sat beside him, a frown on her face. Steve sat on the couch, disengaged in a heated discussion with Rhodes. Wanda and Vision exchanged worried glances, and Anna perched on the counter, nursing a beer as she watched the chaos unfold.

“Conflict breeds catastrophe,” Vision stated. “Oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

“Boom,” Rhodes interjected, teasing Wilson, who scowled in response.

“Tony,” Natasha called, making him look up. “You’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“It’s cause he already made up his mind,” Steve retorted.

“Boy, you know me so well,” Tony teased, standing up and taking Anna’s drink for a sip. “Actually, I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache.”

Anna settled into the seat Tony had vacated. He continued to ramble, projecting another hologram. “Oh, that’s Charles Spencer, by the way. Great kid, computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. He had a floor-level gig at Intel lined up for the fall.”

“He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor,” Tony continued, gesturing to the photo. “Guess where? Sokovia.”

“He wanted to make a difference, I suppose,” Tony said, his tone shifting as he grabbed a pill and a glass of water. “But we wouldn’t know, would we? Because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of their past mistakes pressing down on them. Anna took a sip of her beer, fighting against the tide of fresh tears threatening to spill over. Steve and Tony continued their argument, each standing firm in their beliefs—Tony insisting they needed accountability, while Steve countered that the UN might have a hidden agenda.

“If we don’t do this now,” Tony insisted, crossing his arms, “it’s gonna be done to us later.”

“You’re saying they’ll come for me,” Wanda stated matter-of-factly.

“And me,” Anna added, glancing at her. “And Vision, and every enhanced individual they find.”

“Tony’s right,” Natasha suggested. “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off…”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam interrupted.

Nat sighed, gathering her thoughts. “I’m just reading the terrain. We’ve made public mistakes, and we need to win their trust back.”

Tony chuckled. “Did I mishear you? Or did you just agree with me?”

Anna fought a smile as Nat sighed in defeat. “Oh, I want to take it back.”

“Okay, case closed,” Tony declared triumphantly. “I win.”

Their laughter faded as they turned to find Steve abruptly leaving the room, his expression grim. Nat and Anna exchanged knowing glances, recognizing where he was headed. The team dispersed, and the two women prepared to follow Steve. Nat drove, Anna beside her, staring out the window, lost in thought.

“You haven’t talked to me,” Nat finally said, breaking the silence, her eyes focused on the road.

Anna took a deep breath. “After Sokovia, I hated what I had—what I could do. I used to think I could save anyone. But when I realized I couldn’t…” Her voice trailed off, the weight of her past bearing down on her.

“Hey,” Nat said, turning her head to meet Anna’s gaze. “You saved me.”

A small smile crept onto Anna’s face, a flicker of warmth cutting through the heaviness in her heart.

When they entered the church, Anna took a moment to gather herself before approaching Steve, who stood lost in thought, gazing at Peggy’s photo.

“When I was in the ice,” Steve began, his voice barely above a whisper, “I’d look back and wonder how we got here. I thought of all the times I let her down. What could I have done differently?”

“I’m sure she had your back too,” Anna replied softly, offering a timid smile. Just as she sensed Steve was about to apologize, she cut him off. “You don’t have to do that.”

Before he could protest, he enveloped her in a hug. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Captain,” Anna replied, her heart swelling with warmth. Just then, Natasha entered, breaking the moment.

“Who else signed?” Steve asked, glancing at Natasha.

Natasha’s gaze flickered to Anna first. “Tony, Rhodey, Vision.”

“Clint?”

“Says he’s retired,” Anna shrugged.

“Wanda?”

“TBD,” Natasha smiled. “We’re off to Vienna to sign the accords.”

“There’s plenty of room in the jet,” Anna suggested, but Steve’s expression turned grave, head hanging low.

“Just because it’s the path of least resistance doesn’t mean it’s the wrong path,” Natasha reminded him, her voice steady.

Steve took a deep breath, the weight of their choices heavy on his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, meeting their eyes with sincerity. “I can’t sign it.”

Anna shrugged, the resignation settling in. “We know.”

“Then what are you both doing here?” he asked, confusion evident on his face.

“Well,” Anna sighed, her voice gentle. “We didn’t want you to be alone.”

With that, Steve enveloped them both in a hug, their bond unbroken even in the face of uncertainty. As Natasha and Anna prepared to leave, Anna called out, “Hey, Steve.”

He turned back, curiosity in his eyes.

“Go check on Bucky,” she urged, head turned slightly. “I got a feeling that something's coming for him.”

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion, unsure of what she sensed regarding Bucky. He nodded slowly, gratitude mingling with uncertainty before she bid him farewell, the weight of their impending decisions hanging in the air.

In the heart of Vienna, a city poised on the cusp of history with the imminent signing of the Accords, tragedy struck without warning. The air, once filled with diplomatic anticipation, was shattered by the deafening blast of a terrorist bomb. The world mourned as King T’Chaka of Wakanda, a symbol of strength and wisdom, was killed in the explosion. Panic ensued, but the security footage brought a far more personal and devastating revelation: the prime suspect was none other than Bucky Barnes. The grief-stricken eyes of T’Chaka’s son, T’Challa, hardened into a vengeful glare as he vowed to bring his father’s killer to justice, no matter the cost.

Despite Natasha Romanoff’s cautious counsel, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, their faces drawn with the weight of past battles, chose defiance. They couldn’t wait for bureaucracy. Ross be damned—they would bring in Bucky themselves, before anyone else got to him. But Bucky, elusive as ever, slipped through their grasp, fleeing into the streets with T’Challa, the Panther, hot on his heels.

Through narrow alleys and bustling roads, they raced into a tunnel, shadows swallowing their figures. Suddenly, the pursuit halted—stopped not by walls or barricades, but by the shimmering energy of a force field. From its center emerged Anna, her gaze sharp, her posture unyielding as she descended before Steve and Bucky, T’Challa beside her, fury barely contained.

"Stand down," Anna’s voice rang out, an unspoken threat lying beneath her calm exterior, hands poised to strike. Silence fell as no one moved, the tension thick between them. Slowly, she lowered her hands, the heat of the moment cooling. Her eyes locked onto Steve with a bitter smile.

"Congratulations, Cap. You’re a criminal now."

Bucky’s heart raced—not from the chase, but from the sight of her. Her words were cold, but her presence thawed something deep within him. The last time they’d crossed paths had been a fleeting moment—just a week ago, in the soft light of dawn, when she jogged by for her morning coffee. The memory clung to him, and now, as she approached, the air between them thickened.

"You too, Sergeant," she whispered, her voice barely audible but hitting him like a punch.

They were led away, their fates sealed for now, into a waiting van and transported to a secure facility. Steve, ever the soldier, kept his composure, but concern tugged at his brow as he was met by Everett Ross, flanked by Sharon.

"What’s gonna happen to him?" Steve’s voice held a note of desperation as he glanced back at Bucky.

"Same thing that ought to happen to you," Everett answered with cold detachment. "Psychological evaluation and extradition."

Inside the compound, the tension only deepened. Sam and Steve entered, greeted by the familiar faces of Anna and Natasha, their expressions a mixture of frustration and fatigue. They walked in silence, the weight of their decisions pressing heavily on their shoulders.

"For the record, this is what making things worse looks like," Natasha remarked, her voice sharp as a blade.

"He’s alive," Steve responded, his conviction unwavering.

"Good for him," Anna shot back with a dry laugh, the bitterness in her tone unmistakable.

The air in the room shifted when Tony Stark, ever the orchestrator of chaos, strode in, phone in hand, mid-conversation. "Consequences? You bet there’ll be consequences," he said, hanging up with a sharp click. His gaze fell on Steve and Sam, his expression unreadable.

"Secretary Ross wants you both prosecuted," Tony pointed, the weight of his words landing hard. "Had to give him something."

Steve, resigned but ever defiant, asked the question already hanging in the air. "I’m not getting that shield back, am I?"

"Technically, it’s the government’s property," Anna interjected, her words slicing through the room.

"Wings too," Natasha added, her eyes flicking to Sam.

"That’s cold," Sam muttered, shaking his head.

"Warmer than jail," Tony quipped, shrugging the final punctuation on the grim reality they now faced.

Tony and Steve sat down inside the glass room. Steve stood firm, his presence as solid as the shield he once bore. Opposite him, Tony, his eyes weary, fought to keep the tremor of desperation from his voice. The two men who had once led the Avengers into battle together now found themselves standing on opposite sides of a fault line, the ground between them crumbling with each passing moment. As Steve left, firm that he will not sign it, he went inside another glass room where Nat and Anna were standing outside. Sam was sitting on the chair just as they watched Bucky being evaluated. Sharon entered the room, handing Sam the receipt of their gears.

“Bird costume? Really?” Sam annoyingly asked.

Nat and Anna looked at each other, hiding their smiles at Sam’s annoyance. Sharon then pressed a button to focus the monitor on Bucky. Steve gave her a look of thanks. Anna was intently watching Bucky, studying his features. Then the lights went out, they looked at each other in confusion. Readying themselves for the upcoming doom. Steve turned her head at Sharon as she said where Bucky is located. Sam and Steve rushed. Anna, Tony, and Nat got ready to exit the room.

“Please tell me you brought a suit,” Nat snickered at Tony.

“Sure did,” He sarcastically answered. “It’s a lovely Tom Ford, three-piece, two-button. I’m an active-duty non-combatant.”

Sharon rushed to their side. Guided them to the exit. “Follow me.”

Tony lunged first, his body a blur of movement as he fired a blast from his reactor. The shot rippled through the air, forcing Bucky to stumble back, the very sound of it repelling him. But Tony wasn’t done—he fired again, relentlessly closing the distance between them, until he was close enough to swing.

Bucky, ever the soldier, countered in a flash, raising his gun with precision. But Tony, with swift, calculated reflexes, grabbed hold of the weapon’s side, his helmet absorbing the shot before it could find its mark. In one fierce motion, he yanked the barrel away, leaving the gun useless in Bucky’s grip. Without hesitation, Tony swung the barrel, the cold metal slicing across Bucky’s face.

Bucky barely had time to react before swinging his elbow into Tony’s face. The blow landed hard, followed by a vicious punch to Tony’s gut, sending him crashing into a chair that skidded across the floor with a screech. But Bucky wasn’t done yet. As he regained his footing, the fight still boiling in his veins, Natasha was there—her leg arcing toward his face with lethal grace.

Bucky reacted in the blink of an eye, blocking her kick with his arm, but Nat was relentless. Her other leg followed, connecting hard against his vibranium arm with a dull, metallic thud. She barely had time to react before Anna appeared, a sudden whirlwind of movement. Her knee collided with Bucky’s chest, driving the air from his lungs as her arm swung low, striking at his knee and forcing a groan of pain from his lips.

Nat was on him again, a blur of motion, her leg striking toward his head. The hit was clean, but the next one grazed his shoulder. Bucky, his instincts sharper than ever, caught her leg in mid-air and yanked her off balance. With a fierce pull, he threw her down, sending her crashing through a table that splintered beneath the impact.

But Anna wasn’t done. She was on him, clawing her way on his back with a determined fire. Her legs circled his head as she pressed her elbows down, raining blows onto him. Bucky’s grip tightened as he wrestled her down on the table, refusing to use his vibranium arm, instead relying on the strength of his flesh hand. His fingers curled around her neck, tightening as their gazes locked—each daring the other to break.

Anna’s face flushed crimson, her breaths becoming shallow, her grip on his arm weakening. Bucky’s heart pounded, the tension rising in his body as he watched her struggle, the air slipping away. But then, in a moment of hesitation—of something almost tender—Bucky loosened his grip. His hand fell away along with her necklace, and Anna’s legs unwound from his body.

Their eyes met, a wordless exchange passing between them. Bucky stepped back, his body still taut with adrenaline, before he turned and left her behind, breathless and broken amidst the wreckage. Anna recovered her breathing, holding his neck, still feeling the warmth of his hand around it as she followed him with his gaze as she sat down. The little glances Bucky turned back to her just to check if she was okay. Those made her confused even more. Tony went to her and Nat and she healed them from their pain from the combat.

The lake glistened ominously under the waning sun as Steve sprinted along the shoreline, his heart hammering in his chest. He had almost been fast enough—almost. But the helicopter was already careening into the lake, spiraling downward as Bucky, unconscious, succumbed to the crash. With a desperate dive, Steve plunged into the frigid water, pulling Bucky's limp form from the wreckage. They reached the shore, drenched and breathless, but Steve didn’t stop. He dragged Bucky into the shelter of an abandoned basement, where Sam waited grimly.

Inside, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Bucky lay strapped to a hydraulic press, his vibranium arm immobilized by cold steel. His eyelids fluttered open, confusion clouding his gaze as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

“Hey, Cap!” Sam’s voice cut through the stillness, summoning Steve from his vigil by the doorway.

Steve moved quickly, his steps heavy with the weight of what lay ahead. He found Bucky stirring, groaning in pain as he attempted to sit up, leaning on the machinery for support. Bucky’s voice was a rasp, barely more than a whisper, “Steve.”

Steve's heart clenched. He couldn’t afford to be careless. Saving Bucky had made him a criminal, but the real question gnawed at him. Which Bucky was this?

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve’s tone was cautious, his eyes sharp, every muscle in his body taut.

Bucky met Steve’s gaze, weary but sincere. “Your mom’s name was Sarah,” he muttered, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.”

The relief washed over Steve like a wave, his posture softening, just a little. “You can’t read that in a museum,” he said, his voice thick with unspoken gratitude.

Sam, watching from the corner, shook his head in disbelief. “Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?”

Bucky’s expression shifted, a haunted look settling over his features. “What did I do?” The question hung in the air, heavy with the burden of guilt he was bracing himself to carry.

“Enough,” Steve replied grimly, his eyes flicking to something in Bucky’s hand. “What you got there?”

Bucky glanced down, the small piece of jewelry catching the light—a necklace. His face darkened with the memory. “Anna’s necklace,” he said softly, the weight of what he had done pressing harder on him.

“Why’d you get it?” Sam’s voice was teasing, but Bucky’s somber tone silenced him.

“I don’t know,” Bucky whispered, tucking it back into his pocket as if the simple act could somehow lessen the pain. “I knew this would happen. Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All they had to do was say the goddamn words.”

Steve’s breath caught. The raw vulnerability in Bucky’s voice struck him like a blow to the chest. His friend—no, his brother—was still trapped beneath the weight of his past.

The conversation shifted, the seriousness of the situation looming larger. Bucky explained the depth of HYDRA’s reach, the serum, the other soldiers—worse than him, more dangerous. Sam, now standing closer to Steve, muttered under his breath, “This would’ve been a lot easier a week ago.”

Steve sighed heavily, eyes narrowing in thought. “If we call Tony—”

“He won’t believe us,” Sam cut him off, shaking his head.

Steve grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Even if he did—”

Sam finished his thought with brutal honesty. “Who knows if the Accords would let him help?”

Frustration boiled over. Steve slammed his fist into the wall behind him, the dull thud echoing in the basement. “We could try Anna.”

“No,” Bucky’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and immediate.

Steve shot him a questioning look, one eyebrow raised. Bucky didn’t elaborate, just took a deep breath. “We’re on our own.”

Sam stepped forward, determined to help. “I know a guy who owes me one,” he said. And with that, their plan began to take shape.

Hours later, at the airport, Steve’s team gathered, ready to make their move. But just as Steve prepared the helicopter for takeoff, a familiar arc of energy shot through the air, striking the chopper.

Tony Stark descended, removing his mask with a sarcastic smirk. “Wow, it’s so weird how you run into people at the airport. Don’t you think that’s weird?” he asked Rhodey, his voice dripping with irony.

Rhodey played along. “Definitely weird.”

Steve, ever the diplomat, stepped forward, trying to reason with Tony. “Hear me out, Tony. That doctor, the psychiatrist—he’s behind all of this.”

Before Tony could respond, Black Panther landed beside Steve with a cat-like grace. “Captain,” he greeted with regal authority.

“Your Highness,” Steve acknowledged.

Tony, barely containing his frustration, pressed on. “Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you all in. That was 24 hours ago. Wanna help a brother out?”

Steve stood firm, unyielding. “You’re after the wrong man.”

The tension was thick enough to cut. Then, with a sudden blur of motion, Spider-Man swung in, webbing Steve’s shield from his hand. The fight erupted in full force, teams clashing in a whirlwind of fists, webs, and repulsor blasts.

As chaos unfolded, Steve’s team fought valiantly, but the odds seemed insurmountable. Then, with a burst of energy, Anna descended from the sky, a menacing smile on her face as she landed with calculated grace.

“Am I late?” she asked Tony, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Just in time,” Tony grinned back.

Anna stepped forward, challenging Steve with a teasing smile. “What’d you say there, Steve? You wanna fight me?”

The air was thick with tension, a storm of anticipation brewing as Anna's eyes scanned the battlefield. “Anna, get—” his voice shouted, but she was already ahead, her mind sharp, calculating.

“I see you got new recruits,” she interrupted, her tone casual, yet charged with unspoken power. Her gaze locked on the man in the gas mask costume. “Who’re you?”

He hesitated, taken aback that she was addressing him directly. “Ant-man,” he said, removing his mask, his face a mix of awe and surprise. “Big fan,” he added, almost sheepishly.

Anna gave a curt nod, her eyes shifting to the next figure. “Hey, Clint, back from retirement?” Her voice was steady, a knowing edge to her words.

Clint returned her nod, the weight of unspoken battles hanging between them. “Had to pay a debt,” he replied, his voice carrying the burden of what lay ahead.

Her gaze softened as she spotted another figure. “Ah, Wanda, you doing okay there, sweetheart?” But Wanda didn’t answer, hiding behind Steve’s broad frame like a shadow seeking refuge from the storm. Anna’s eyes gleamed with a challenge. “You think you can take me out now, honey?” she asked, her voice tinged with amusement, daring her to try.

Then, Anna’s attention snapped to Sam, standing tall, watching her closely. She raised a brow, her voice dripping with mockery. “Hey, Bird Man.”

Sam smirked, his reply quick. “Hey, magician.”

Finally, her gaze landed on Bucky. The moment lingered, charged with history and tension. “Hey there, sergeant,” she said, the words cutting through the air like a blade.

The silence before the storm broke.

Without another word, Anna surged forward, her team at her back. Steve lunged toward her, but she was faster. She leapt into the fray, a deadly dance unfolding as the battle erupted. She saw that Bucky knew she was her target, that's why he ran. She projected the the carts to stumble in front of him. That made Bucky turn, looked at her. He was taken aback, even with the trigger words, he couldn’t find himself to hurt her. Not again.

Anna threw her guns and knife on the ground. And held her fists up. “Come on, HYDRA boy,” She teased with a menacing smile.

His vibranium arm tensed, ready for the inevitable assault, but his heart wasn’t in it. Across from him, Anna’s eyes glinted with a fierce determination. Her hands crackled with energy, a manifestation of her enhanced abilities, a force powerful enough to send anyone flying across the room. She lunged first, fast and precise. Her fist, cloaked in a shimmering energy field, swung toward him. Bucky dodged, his reflexes sharp as ever, but his movements were defensive. He spun to the side, his expression hard but conflicted. Every time her strike neared, he danced away, avoiding her blows with a grace that came from years of battle. But he never struck back. Anna’s face was set in a deep frown, her brow furrowed as her frustration grew.

She lashed out with a sweeping kick, energy pulsing through her leg. Bucky blocked it with his vibranium arm, the force of the impact sending a tremor up his arm, but still, he didn’t retaliate. He twisted, sidestepping another barrage of strikes, moving with precision and focus, but never crossing the line into offense. Her next strike came faster, her hand glowing brightly as she drove it toward his chest. Bucky barely avoided the blow, the heat of her energy brushing against his skin. He blocked her next swing, catching her wrist in his hand, but he didn’t tighten his grip. He merely held her at bay. He held her close, their faces merely inches away. Their chests heaving, sweat glistening on her brow as her glowing fists dimmed.

She stood before him, panting, eyes wild with frustration and confusion. “Why won’t you fight back?” she asked, her voice breaking through the tension like a fragile plea. She stared at him, demanding an answer, her hands still faintly shimmering with power.

Bucky lowered his gaze, the struggle within him almost too much to bear. He wanted to explain, to tell her everything he couldn’t find the words for. “Because…” he whispered, the words catching in his throat, “I can’t.”

Anna’s chest heaved, her breath ragged as Bucky came into view. Each beat of her heart felt like a war—one side pleading for release, the other clinging to him with fierce desperation. The tension clawed at her insides, but in that split second, her resolve hardened.

“Go,” she whispered, the word barely escaping her lips.

Bucky froze, startled by the quiet command, his eyes wide in disbelief. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to hang between them, his hesitation tangible. Then, with a swift nod, he turned and sprinted away, casting a glance over his shoulder, worry etched across his face. He needed to know she was safe. Her focus already shifted to Wanda, her mind connecting to hers, not through force but through understanding. Inside Wanda’s head, she whispered, coaxing, “Stop.”

Wanda faltered, stepping aside to help Clint. Meanwhile, Sam orchestrated a diversion, cleverly working to get Barnes and Steve to the quinjet. Overhead, Vis shredded the roof, collapsing it just as Wanda projected the debris aside, clearing their path. But Rhodes, with brutal precision, struck Wanda with a repulsion sound, sending the debris tumbling dangerously close to Barnes and Steve. Time slowed as Anna dove into the chaos, her power surging as she redirected the falling wreckage, protecting them both.

Barnes and Steve sprinted inside, only to be stopped dead in their tracks by Nat, her fists glowing with a warning. They hesitated, reading the gravity in her expression.

Her hands twisted in calculated motion, power thrumming in the air. “You’re not gonna stop, are you?” Her voice was heavy, knowing the answer before it came.

Steve’s sigh was weary, the weight of impossible choices evident. “You know I can’t.”

Nat sighed, resigned but determined. “You owe me one,” she said, her voice thick with history as she held back Black Panther’s relentless advance.

“Go,” she commanded, her voice sharp, resolute. She unleashed her power again, buying them the time they needed as she turned her focus back on Panther, knowing the battle was far from over.

The clash had been fierce, but brief—over almost as soon as it had begun. The battlefield, once roaring with the sounds of battle, had fallen into an eerie silence. Cap’s team lay defeated, subdued with no hope of escape. In the hospital, Rhodes lay still, paralyzed by the brutal force of the conflict.

High above, standing on the edge of the balcony, Anna and Nat gazed out over the devastated landscape. The wind whispered through the air, carrying with it a sense of finality, as if it knew the weight of what had just transpired.

Anna broke the silence, her voice soft but steady. “I would’ve done the same thing.”

Natasha glanced at her, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. The unspoken bond between them ran deep, forged in shared trials. “I know,” she replied, her words laced with quiet understanding.

Anna’s gaze shifted toward the horizon, her heart heavy with the knowledge of what had to be said next. Her voice trembled slightly, betraying the sorrow she felt. “You need to go,” she whispered, fighting to keep her emotions in check. “T’Challa told Ross what you did.”

The weight of the truth hung between them, unyielding and absolute. Natasha met her gaze, her face impassive but her eyes revealing the quiet acceptance of what she already knew. “I know,” she said softly.

For a fleeting moment, the two women stepped toward one another, their arms wrapping around each other in a brief but fierce embrace. No words could express the depth of what they shared in that moment. And then, as quickly as she had come, Natasha slipped away into the shadows, leaving Anna alone on the balcony, watching as her friend disappeared into the day.

Tony Stark uncovers evidence that Bucky Barnes was framed by Zemo. His heart heavy, he learns that the rest of the Avengers have been locked away in the Raft, a high-security prison for enhanced individuals. Stark visits the dismayed team, temporarily disabling security to extract crucial information from Sam Wilson about Rogers and Barnes’ whereabouts. Armed with the intel, Stark heads to Siberia, unknowingly followed by Anna.

Zemo sat on the cliff with a phone in his hand, staring at it. He's clearly staring at something until he felt a presence of someone even though not knowing who it is,

"I almost killed the wrong man..." She stated, Zemo's back facing him as the cold wind gushed.

"Hardly an innocent one," Zemo replied.

She placed her gun in the holster and stood beside Zemo to listen. "Aren't you happy? This is what you wanted, isn't it? To see an empire fall."

Zemo looked afar, like he's looking on the other side of the world wishing it was all a dream, while playing with a gun. "My father lives outside the city. I thought we would be safe there. My son was excited, he could see the Iron from the car window. I told my wife, 'Don't worry, they're fighting in the city, we're miles from harm' and the dust cleared and the screaming stopped. It took me two days until I found their bodies... my father still holding my wife and son in his arms, and the avengers? they went home..."

She sat beside him facing the opposite side. She turned to him, "Are you happy now?"

He looked at her confused. What happiness is she talking about? Didn't she hear the story? "What?"

"You got what you wanted... You wanted my dad to kill Steve and Bucky. You have Bucky's trigger words. Two of the most devastating things that could happen..." she started, looking at the door entrance where her dad and her friend are fighting, hoping that they come out arm in arm because they resolved it for her... but no. "But I get it so I'm sorry."

His face softened at what she said. No one ever said that to him ever since his family died. Not even from the government or Avengers.

"On behalf of the Avengers, I'm sorry... that you lost your family and for what you're going through but don't take them away from me..." her voice shaked. She can't bear it if the two most important people in her life can't stand to be in the same room. "Please dont. I know it's hard to see other families happy but please don't."

Her pleads seemed to open a spot Zemo had closed for a long time. The coldness in his system melted. She was the only person who seemed to get his suffering after the destruction he, now, caused. He was confused and overwhelmed by it. How could she? Who is she?

"I can read you..." She lightly smiled. "I'm Anna." She stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe one day we'll see each other again and I hope that the wounds we've caused will heal."

She started walking towards the door when she heard his thoughts.

"Put that gun away. Live your life, Zemo, this is the new you."

Her words tattooed on his mind and were on repeat. He kept hearing it over and over again. Is it worthy to live his life again?

Anna went inside and heard the commotion. She silently flew herself up and saw Bucky with a gun while her dad and Steve were in front of a computer watching the footage where Bucky killed her dad's parents. She couldn't call them grandparents because she didn't know them and Tony never really mentioned them. She could count the times in her hand when he told stories about them. But she knew that, she felt it from Bucky when they fought earlier at the airport. She saw his misery... his pain... maybe that's why she couldn't bring herself to kill him.

Tony turned to Bucky and was about to fight him but Steve pulled him back. "Don't."

"Did you know?" Anger was evident from Tony, even with the suit on they could feel his rage. Anna saw and heard their thoughts. She saw that her dad wasn't very angry that Bucky killed his parents... he was angrier that Steve knew and never told him a thing. Betrayal.

"Yes."

Tony took a step back. His heart shattered from what he heard. He expected it from someone other than him. He thought they built a bond from the past years they've been fighting side to side but friendship is a complicated thing. He punched Rogers 'til he flew to the ground. Bucky pointed his gun at him but Tony was quicker to choke him from behind.

"Do you even remember them?"

"I remember all of them," Bucky answered before Tony steered them to the ground but Steve tackled them causing Bucky to fall to the higher floor and Steve and Tony rolled to the ground.

Anna stood silently and watched before she saw Bucky attempting to fight. She flew to his side and grabbed him back.

"Don't," she muttered. "This is not your fight. You have a bigger plan than this."

Once again, even in the middle of chaos Bucky found her peace. Even if she's on the other side, he found stillness and calmness in her. He looked at her. "Why didn't you kill me?"

She couldn't find an answer. Technically, she can kill him but she chose not to. Maybe because she can sense a strong connection or she can understand what he went through.

"I'll kill you when I want to kill you."

She raised the side of her lips, giving him assurance that she can never be the bad guy. Unlike him, who killed dozens of people. She heard him groan when he backed away so she pulled him back and healed him before stepping down to rescue his dad. He didn't have the time to say "thanks" but he kept in mind that the next time they see each other, he'll say it. But for now, he had other plans, to save his friend. He saw Steve's shield and jumped down to slam it on Tony's back.

She wasn't surprised. They chose sides to help. And she isn't letting anyone hurt her dad. She joined them on the side and blasted her powers to revert Steve from punching her dad. She played with Steve's mind so her dad could focus on Bucky. Steve was frozen on his spot thinking about what she painted; Peggy, his weakness. Just like superman, we all have our own kryptonites.

But that wasn't until Bucky took a shot at her. Forcing her to wince and stopping her from toying Steve. The man in a star-spangled suit looked at her. "Anna? Why?"

"All is fair in love and war."

Tony realized what happened and blasted Bucky to the wall while Anna healed herself. "And now, you're trying to kill my daughter!?"

"I wasn't killing her!" He screamed while smashing Tony to the wall and tried to rip his arc reactor until it fired strongly at him, using his uni-beam to vaporize his metal arm. Bucky now realized the impact of his actions. He looked at Anna who was shocked and Steve who's running to Tony.

An enraged Steve leaped towards Tony but he overpowered him before battering him relentlessly. Anna stood beside Bucky trying to help him but realized that metals aren't under her control.

"Dad, you have to stop!" She transferred the message to her dad's head. "You can't beat him hand-to-hand."

"I don't care. He killed my mom." He answered again but this time, he emphasized on every word. Tony blocked Steve's shield and shot it before punching him and blasting him in front of Bucky.

"He's my friend," Steve painted. He just wanted to protect his friend because he know that the guy who killed Tony's parents and the guy who saved him from his bullies aren't the same. That's what he wanted Tony to understand but that can't clearly happen.

"So was I."

Tony jabbed Steve and threw him to the grid. "Stay down. Final warning."

Steve struggled to his feet and raised his hands. "I could do this all day."

Tony charged a repulsor blast but was distracted by Bucky, who grabbed his leg, Anna then drifted him to the wall and choked him with her arm. "I told you. This is not your fight."

That disadvantage made Steve grab Tony and hoisted him over his head. Steve violently threw her dad to the ground before taking his shield attempting to bash his chestplate but Anna was quick to smash his shield into the wall. She wasn't gonna let that happen. The two Avenger looked at her while she held Bucky to the wall and drifted Steve to the opposite side of her dad.

"Take your friend and leave, Steve."

She looked at Bucky who's deep into her eyes, trying to scan her emotions so she shared it with him. She let him see what she was thinking and feeling. And what was it? Nothing. She felt empty. A war is not a good time to feel happy or sad or angry. For her, it's a time to feel nothing.

Steve took Bucky's arm then they walked away leaving her and her dad alone. She kneeled beside him and healed him in silence. She knows no amount of words can comfort him so she comforted him in silence.

"Thanks, kid." Her dad tried to smile at her.

She smiled back before placing her dad's arm over her and leaving. She knows that she's gonna see the two friends again because she can sense the connection she and Bucky have but for now, she's focused on her dad.

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resowrites · 2 years ago

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Year Of The Rabbit - oneshot.

Summary: There’s teasing, reminiscing and a big surprise in the lead up to Henry and his girlfriend’s anniversary (following on from this oneshot but can be read as a standalone story).

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Girlfriend!OC

Warnings: NSFW 18+ only, fluff, light smut/sexy talk (f masturbation/slight m dom vibe if you squint), banter/British humour, dialogue heavy, time hopping/vignette style, language, pet names, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 2662

A/N: This was meant to go up a while ago but time got away from me again, also please forgive the mistakes - my head’s still a touch sore from last night! Happy New Year folks, hope it’s a good one for you all ~ R x

My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Year Of The Rabbit - oneshot.

December 30th

"Er... I'm not sure this is the right turn."

"Henry, for the third time, I know where I'm going." He reached across to the glovebox and popped it open. She took a deep breath and kept her eyes fixed ahead, even when the corners of an unfurled map began to crowd her vision. They'd decided to spend January at the cottage, which meant they had to go home to pick up some more stuff.

"Yep, just as I thought, we're heading the wrong way. Oh no, wait. The map's upside down." She bit her lower lip, refusing to take the bait. "You still should've taken that last exit though, woulda shaved at least thirty minutes off the drive... are you alright? You seem a bit quiet."

"I'm good... just enjoying the scenery." Henry sniffed and reached over to the glove box once again.

"Yes! I knew I'd remembered to pack it," he unwrapped a large block of tin foil and took a bite, "want some?"

"No thanks."

"You sure? It's got extra nuts," Henry started waving the Christmas cake near her face, "here, I'll break off a small piece for me wee wife." A big chunk of cake then fell directly onto her lap. She gritted her teeth. "Now, if you take the next right instead of a left, we'll be back to the last exit in no time." She decided to pull over. "Oh darling, you didn't need to stop to read the map, I'm happy to give directions." She cleared her throat and looked directly into his devilish eyes.

"Darling, try all you like, you are not irritating me today."

"Oh? What makes you think I'm trying to irritate you?" Henry took another bite of cake, sending more crumbs flying everywhere.

"Because you can't help yourself. But that's just fine, cos I'm not rising to it anymore. In fact, it's my New Year's resolution: to remain zen-like in your presence at all times." She then smiled and turned the key in the ignition. He made no reply, choosing instead to take another look at the map. "... Will you please get that bloody thing out of my face?!"

"What?! I'm just trying to help me wee wife get back on the right road--"

"And that's another thing, stop calling me your 'wee wife,' or I won't be marrying you at all!"

"But you are wee as well as my wife-to-be! What else am I meant to call you? Woman? And you can't backsie a marriage proposal, it's not like a new years resolution!"

"… Kill me."

"Oh come on, it's not that hopeless, woman. We'll find home again, I promise."

"Henry, I mean it, you put that map away right now and shut up or I'll take off my seatbelt and crash straight into the next fucking tree." Henry blinked.

"That's alright, I can always catch a lift."

"Christ, why me Lord?"

"I was thinking the same. We could have been back by now, having a shag in front of a roaring fire."

"Pfft, you'll be lucky."

"I know. When are you gunna put out? It's been days..."

"Perhaps when I'm not made to drive miles just to pick up a fucking Sonic game! And it's not even been 48 hours!"

"Yeah, 48 woman hours, in man hours that's closer to two weeks. And excuse me, it's Sonic Frontiers. How many times do I have to apologise for forgetting it?! You were the one who insisted on driving back, I was happy to go by myself!"

"Oh please, with the way you speed down these country roads?"

"Well I thought you'd take any opportunity to get rid of me?"

"I would but not at the expense of the bloody car!"

"Ollie?"

"What?!"

"… Just take a breath," she ground her teeth and ignored his smirk, "WAIT, LOOK OUT!" She quickly swerved, sending Henry into fits of giggles.

"You stupid, stupid twat! What did you do that for?! I could have crashed the fucking car!"

"Don't be silly, even you're not that bad a driver… "

"Oh my God I could kill you..."

"Oh, grow up."

"I need to grow up?!"

"Yes, or you shan't be receiving your anniversary present."

"What d'ya mean? What anniversary?"

"What d'ya mean 'what d'ya mean,' our anniversary! We met New Year's Eve, remember?"

"Oh... I thought we were just going to Mark and Claire's party?"

"Nope, I've got something else planned."

"Oh Henry, no more. You've spoiled me enough, just a quiet evening will do."

"Trust me, you're gunna love it. And relax, it'll just be the two of us."

"Well now I'm sure to enjoy it..."

"Don't worry, there'll still be plenty of drink."

"That's a relief, I always find it a rather solemn occasion..." He ignored her.

"Aww, how could you forget the night your life changed forever? I can remember it like it was yesterday-- what you looking for?"

"The sick bags." Henry smiled.

"You know, you were the only woman I approached who didn't laugh at my jokes?"

"I laughed at you."

"Mmm... what was it I said again?"

"Er... something along the lines of 'nice dress, lucky you're not any taller." He cackled.

"Well it was bloody short! You still got it?"

"Pretty sure I burned it..."

"And what was it you said to me?"

"Um... 'that's a nice shirt, now hand me that Champagne and fuck off." Henry sighed.

"Yep, I knew right then you were my woman," she rolled her eyes, "you know I've still got that shirt?"

"Why? It was too small even back then..." He carried on ignoring her.

"You know, if we'd married back then we'd have been celebrating our seven-year wedding anniversary tomorrow? What do you get for seven years?"

"... An itch? And what kind of woman would I be if I married you straight away?!"

"A most fortunate one, my love. Do you what some women would give to marry me?"

"That's only cos they don't actually know you!" Henry smirked.

"... When did you realise you loved me?"

"Who said anything about love?!" He tutted.

"... I knew you only wanted me for my body." Henry then shoved the last bit of cake straight into his mouth.

"Oh my God look at the mess you've made! And I can’t believe you bought along a whole Christmas cake-- wait yes I can, it's exactly what you'd bloody do!"

"Then why are you marrying me?!" She sighed.

"I don't know... I must have hit my head and can't remember."

"Well that explains why you didn't even remember our anniversary!"

"Oh my God, are you gunna be like this after we're married? Wait, we won't have to celebrate both anniversaries will we?" He nodded. "But can't we just roll them into one? I'll celebrate today in fact, call it my "prick-iversary.'"

"Oh stop it. You love this prick. And the man attached to it."

"Sure."

"Yes you do! I bet You’ll be a bigger wreck than me on the day…"

"What d'ya mean? Oh you better not start crying, or I’ll turn around and run!" Henry laughed.

"Well how could I not cry? We don't have enough sex now! What's it gunna be like once we're married?!"

***

She was laying beneath the bed cover with both arms under her pillow. She rocked gently back and forth, brushing her nipples against it and her bottom half against the other pillow between her legs. She didn’t even hear Henry enter the bedroom. "Right I've set up the other controller so— whoa, now! What's going on here?!"

"What does it... look like?"

"I dunno, lemme see…" He leaned over and tried to pull the cover down, causing her to grip the edge and roll onto her side.

"No, I don't think so…" She then closed her eyes, resumed grinding, and began massaging one of her breasts.

"So what am I meant to do?! Just stand here and watch?!"

"No but you can go... listen in the next room... if you like." Henry crossed his arms, his eyes still fixated on her chest.

"... Why are you doing this to me?!"

"What?! I'm just celebrating our… anniversary."

"By having sex with yourself?!"

"When... do I not?" He tutted.

"How long've you been at it?"

"I've been edging for... nearly an hour."

"Without even using your fingers?! Oh darling, you must be in agony. Here, let me--"

"Henry! Will you please fuck off?!"

"Why?! I only want a little feel! Christ, I bet you're soaked…" Again Henry tried to pull back the cover.

"No don't... I'll cum too fast…" Her breath was short and she struggled to get any more words out. Eventually, she gasped and had to stop. Even beneath the covers, he could see her legs trembling. Henry snapped back up and unzipped his fly.

"Alright, on your back for me, there's a good girl."

"Nope."

"Ollie, that's enough. Get on your back. Now."

***

"Now, why is it you'll only cuddle me after I've fucked your brains out?"

"… I think you just answered your own question there." She tried to wriggle free of Henry's arms.

"Oh no you don't. Come on, put your head back where it was, you were almost asleep."

"Nope, I'm going for a shower."

"Not yet you're not," he yanked her back and clamped her hip with his thigh so she couldn't move. Right on cue, she yawned as her face nestled into his chest. "I knew you loved listening to my heartbeat…"

"I'm not doing that!"

"Mm-hm, sure." Henry kissed the top of her head. "You know, this reminds me of when we were in lockdown."

"... How I didn't put your head through a window those first couple of weeks, I'll never know." He chuckled.

"Oh behave yourself, you love having me around. Now get some sleep, I'll wake you when it's dinner…” Suddenly her eyes popped open and she pushed at Henry's chest, forcing him to release her. "What did I do wrong now?!" But she quickly shushed him.

"Is that a knock at the door?"

"What? At this time? Who would it be--" she shushed Henry again.

"Can't you hear it? There's definitely someone there…" She rushed to put on a dressing gown and some slippers.

"Where are you going? Stay here, I'll go see who it is." He quickly threw on a tracksuit and jogged downstairs. Five minutes or so later, she could hear Henry clattering about the kitchen.

"Is everything okay, darling?"

"Yes! Dinner just came early, that's all. Go have your shower then come down…" He hoped that would buy him enough time.

***

She trudged down the stairs about twenty minutes later, hair still wet and yawning like it was already gone midnight. "Darling? What are you doing?" Henry immediately jumped up and her eyes fell to the blanketed lump on the floor behind him. "What's that?" He stepped aside with a huge grin.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" Warily she took a few steps forward, glancing toward the counter before she crouched to the floor.

"Wait, where's the food--" she'd never been in more shock than when she lifted off the blanket.

"… Well? What do you think?" A lump had already formed in her throat. There, fast asleep, was a fluffy and very chunky Akita puppy. She quickly covered her face with her hands. "Ollie?" Henry dashed forwards and flung his arms around her. "Shhh it's alright... no! Don't cry, darling!" He soon found himself wiping away a tear or two of his own. Through no fault of her own, Ollie wasn't very demonstrative. But that moment was easily the happiest Henry had ever seen her.

“You got me… a… puppy? Really?" She could hardly talk for crying. He nodded as he wiped her face.

"Do you like her?"

"It's a girl?!" She sobbed harder, causing Henry to chuckle and kiss the top of her head.

"Of course! I didn't want you to feel outnumbered anymore. Here, do you wanna hold her?"

"No! Let her sleep…" She sunk to the floor anyway and began carefully stroking her fur. He took a seat beside her and continued drying her face. "I can't believe it, she's perfect... thank you so much. Even though you've got me crying like an idiot." Henry snorted.

“Well, I had to find the perfect girl for my other perfect girl! And I'm sorry, she was meant to be dropped off tomorrow but her breeders wanted to avoid the New Year's Eve traffic," he could see her face fall "what's wrong darling? Look, I know I've sprung this on you, and Kal and I are hard work enough, so if you're not ready it's fine I can--"

"No, it's not that! It's just… well what about Kal?" Their beloved boy was still fast asleep on the rug in the living room. "He's an older gentleman now, he won't appreciate being terrorised by a puppy--"

"Relax! they've already been introduced. Multiple times, in fact. It's what I was doing these last couple of months whenever I got a spare Sunday. She's super chill so he's fine with her. We were lucky, she was also the only girl in the litter--"

"Wait a minute, you kept her from me for months?!"

"Well we had to be sure she had the right temperament! Akita's usually prefer being the only dog so--" she clamped a hand over Henry's mouth.

"It was a joke! She's absolutely beautiful, how old is she? Is she going to stay this colour?" The excitement in her voice made his heart sing.

"Should do, and she's just over four months. A friend of mine's already offered to train her to be a therapy dog when she's a bit older, he says she's perfect for it. And that way she can give you all the cuddles I can't when I'm away. Don't worry though, I'll continue toilet and crate training her in the meantime--"

"No-- I want you to show me, I've never had a puppy before!"

"Are you sure? It'll be quicker just to teach her," she swatted Henry's arm "so, what are you gunna call her?" She thought for a moment.

"Copper!"

"Copper?!"

"Yeah, I mean... she looks that colour and I think it's also the seventh wedding anniversary gift?"

"Then Copper it is! Happy early anniversary, darling..." He planted a kiss on her lips and she felt the annoying, all too familiar sense of dread. "Darling? What is it?"

"It's nothing, I just... why are you doing all of this for me? First the cottage, and now this... it's not like I've done anything to deserve it--"

"Ollie, stop right there. I..." Henry paused for a moment, struggling to find the right words. "I know your life's not been the easiest, and being with me hasn't made it much easier--"

"Henry--"

"No, let me finish. I hope with time and the help of your sessions, you'll find it easier to trust people. But either way, I'll never stop trying to prove myself to you. Ever. You deserve the world, darling." She wiped away more tears.

"Stop it. I left the sick bags in the car..." He grinned. "I feel terrible though, I didn't get you anything for our anniversary!"

"Darling, you've had a lot on your mind. Though there is one thing you could do..."

"Jesus, we were only at it an hour ago... or is that more like three days ago?" Henry smirked.

"I didn't mean that! Although, as soon as you've recovered just let me know..." She rolled her eyes. "I was actually going to ask you to play Sonic Frontiers with me." Her loving smile disappeared so quickly from her face that he burst out laughing.

"Fine. Copper's worth it. But no bloody cheating! Oh and--" she whispered something in Henry's ear.

"... Really?! That's what made you fall in love with me?!" They both roared with laughter and shared another kiss.

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@marytudorbrandon @luclittlepond @fanfictionaddiction99 @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut

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ficnoire2 · 1 year ago

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An Ode to The King, Briana Irene Matthews

When I say I love this character, I say it with my whole chest. I cannot begin to express the joy I experienced when one of my fellow educators passed me this book and said “I’ve got a fantasy book for you, and there is a black girl on the cover.” I am a child of The Neverending Story, Legend, Willow, etc (Google if you need to) and brown faces were few and far between, if there at all. There are so many things I admire and appreciate about Bree Bree and the power she holds can’t be understated.

*Spoilers Ahead so Exit Stage Left if You Need To*

Choices

In a story where choice has been hijacked for so many of our faves, I love the choice she makes at the end of Bloodmarked. To choose herself. I know there has been controversy regarding this but fuck all that, she said what she said. The fact that black girls need to be perfect and make decisions that are equally as perfect no matter what they are up against is absurd. That line of thinking has real world consequences. I love that she tried to consult with elders, those that came before her. She seemed to be following this implied protocol that did not bear the fruit she’d hoped for.

When she says, “I realize now why Jessie’s mantra to call root didn’t work for me.” She said, “Think of the power you possess and the woman who gave it to you.” I smile sadly, “I used to think that woman was my mother, and through her, you. Tried it her way and it didn’t work. Because you all didn’t give me my power.” I kneel to face the streams, thrust my hands into the earth from which they came.

“I did.”

This was a hell of a scene because she is finally shutting off the noise of the outside world, the distracting chatter blocking her self actualization. Arthur, the ancestors, the Legendborn, and choosing Bree. Much like she puts the broken pieces of Excalibur back together, she is in a sense doing the same for herself (pain welded blade). It even bears a deep purple stone in the pommel. The color meant to speak to this pain, this literal and figurative bruising and beating she has taken. In addition, the choice to go with Erebus and the uncertainty that hangs there was pure fearlessness. As her character sheet says, she is intrepid, bold. The way she is written, you just know it is in her soul. As Tracy says in her dedication, For every Black girl who was “the first.” Black is capitalized here, emphasized, because we are often demonized for making decisions or having experiences that those that came before may not have had the courage or opportunity to step into. The First. In Bree’s line everyone ran and she decided to stop running and turn to face the unknown, whatever may come with her chin up.

In addition to being a clever badass, I loved watching how she navigated her relationships with Nick and Sel. Again, another hot button topic where folks are clutching pearls and clenching ass cheeks. I am not interested in “ship wars” but what did catch my eye was the way Bree allowed herself to be loved on. The safety and soft intimacy she received and craved from Nick in a time where her world had been completely shattered was beautiful to read. “I’m impressed, despite my still racing heartbeat. How does he do it? How does this boy navigate my emotions like a seasoned sailor, finding the clear skies and bringing them closer, when all I seem able to do is hold fast to the storms?” He is patient with her. The way he speaks, comforting and protective. I love that she had this! The giddiness at that age of meeting someone that makes you dizzy in the best way. I love that Bree allowed herself to experience the respite Nick offered. That relationship represents the light in her, hearkens back to a simpler time.

I also think Bree enjoys the challenge Sel presents. Aside from him trying to kill her in the beginning (and being an all around asshole), she always seems to find interest in him (her shadow side). “He’s dressed in black, as always, but his long coat is gone. His tattoos are on full display below sleeves rolled at the elbow. They wind down his forearms and wrists, and I can’t help but study them. I wonder how far they go and how many he has before I remember that I detest him and shouldn’t care about his tattoos at all.”

Bree is fiery (quite literally) and finds herself drawn to the darkness and mystery of Sel. In truth, she likes to stir the pot. When Vaughn is giving her shit about being Nick’s page, she intentionally fucks with him. “But I’m not going to disappear. And I don’t want to keep my head down. Instead, I’m going to give Vaughn a glimpse of who I really am, and show him exactly who I’m not.”

She then throws the haymaker, “You’re a bigot and a bully, Scheafer. You insult me because you think you know what I am capable of, but you don’t. I must make you nervous, though, for you to expose your insecurities about your odds of success in the tournament.”

Long story short, Briana Irene is with the shits! How many times have you had to check in a loser such as Vaughn, who in all their mediocrity, thinks they are superior? I love that she essentially says, “aight then.”

I say all that to say that I like that she is feeling her feelings. She can acknowledge and accept the safety and easiness of Nick, while also reveling in the mystery and chaos of Sel. Those two desires can (and do) live in the same body. I love that this is confusing for her and she grapples with it because, what 16 year old wouldn’t! Low key/high key, folks my age would grapple with certain aspects of that but again, her choices.

Bree is supposed to be complicated. At times infuriating. I find it strange however, when folks don’t give her the space she has earned to develop. So many of us Black girls are not afforded this space. No room to grow, change our minds, or choose a different path. She is grappling with grief and grief is messy, complicated. The vessel in which she entered the world ceases to exist on the plane of the living and she is floating in the darkness and uncertainty of that. “Your anguish is wrapped around your very heart.” Not to mention navigating racism, sexism, supernatural beings, and understanding her own body and power. That is a tall order. She represents multitudes of girls who were “the first” and I am so glad I get to witness her in all her flaws and greatness. THE KING. Rumble black girl, rumble.

#tracey deonn #legendborn #legendborn cycle #bree mathews #bloodmarked

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greeniegreengreen · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! Can I request gojo x falling in love with his booty call who's in denial that he loves her and she lives him?

A/N: First request on this account and I'm so happy about it!! Took a while to do because I had an assignment due last Sunday.

College Au - Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader - FWB to Lovers

Warnings: Suggestive themes, Mentions of Alcohol/Tipsy Folks, MDNI & Ageless Blogs will be blocked

Word Count: 1809

I hope you enjoy @diavolosbaby!!

Wish me luck

Phone clutched in his hand as he stared back at the text. Deciding to not reply to it, he put his phone face first on his desk and redirected his attention to the lecturer.

He wasn't able to focus on what she was saying though. The message clouding his mind along with questions of his own.

She had told him about her crush on Nanami. He had encouraged her to pursue it. She had mentioned how their arrangement would have to come to an end if she wanted to proceed with a relationship. He had said he didn't mind.

So why did it bother him she was really going to ask him out?

Why did he harbour so much hate for himself for playing the supportive friend in this?

They were just friends that fucked. Heavy emphasis on friends. They weren't exclusive or getting to that point. So this shouldn't bother him that much.

His phone vibrates again and he's quick to pick up on the pattern. He had customized it a while back to make it easier to identify when she had sent him a message.

Not wasting a second he unlocks his phone and immediately regrets doing so.

guess who has a date this Friday~(˘▾˘~) you're gonna help me pick an outfit right

Heart dropping he tried to type back a reply. Of course Nanami would agree. In the little group they had it was very evident Nanami liked you back.

sure

He should be a lot more excited for you but for some reason he can't bring himself to it.

Maybe the loss of his daily fuck was what made this an issue for him?

It had to be. The only reasonable explanation there was in his head.

***

The end of class could not have come fast enough.

With the worry on his face as he packed his bag, Geto took notice.

"Didn't understand what Mrs Wagner was saying again?"

He paused his packing and looked up at his best friend.

"It's not that." He shoved his laptop in it's pocket and zipped up the bag. "I'm just thinking."

"About?" He watched his friend get up from his seat and toss the bag onto his back.

"Don't worry about it." he tried to get Geto off his case. "It's nothing serious."

Geto gave him a doubtful look but decided to let it go as they left the hall together.

Walking through the courtyard on their way to their apartment Geto's phone went off. He pulled it to see who had messaged him. Gojo not taking notice to it as he was stuck in his thoughts.

"Oh?" He voiced after reading the message. "Nanami got asked out by [Y/N]. Now that's a pair I didn't expect to happen."

He replied back to the text.

"They'll look cute together, no?" Looking to his right at Gojo who despite not being present before was fully aware of everything Geto was saying now. His clenched jaw an indication to that.

"I doubt." He disagreed.

"Why not?" He asked, curious to hear what Gojo would say.

"They just don't click." Like she and he did.

"They could. A relationship is all about learning about the other." he looked ahead as they were slowly approaching their building.

"Even so, they barely spent enough time together." Unlike they did.

"True. Haven't seen them have a conversation for longer than 10 mins" He looked at him thoughtfully. "I still think they could make it work."

"I highly doubt that." Gojo said with a roll of his eyes.

He may not have been looking at Geto but Geto was sure to take note of every little twitch that pulled his face. The slight furrow of his snowy eyebrows, the tick in his jaw. He wasn't happy about this news and it showed.

"By some chance," he started as they got in the elevator and Gojo pressed their floor. " Would you have a crush on [Y/N]?"

Gojo's head turned to look at his friend for the first time since they left the class. He tried to read his facial expression to see if it was a joke of a question he was being asked.

None. Geto was dead serious.

No one knew about the arrangement as per your request. So Gojo not wanting to anger you and continue what you had going kept his mouth shut. Not even his best friend got an inkling to what was going on. The secrecy of it all did make it more exciting.

But a crush?

On [Y/N]?

Impossible.

"No, I don't" He turned to look ahead of him as he exited the elevator.

Reaching their shared home, he pulled out the keys to unlock the door. Geto not far behind him.

"Well it looks to me that you're jealous." He said.

Stumbling with the lock at that statement, he got it in and opened the door.

Jealousy?

Is that what he was feeling?

"If you like her, now would probably be the best time to tell her. Nanami seemed awfully excited by the sound of his message." He set his bag by the couch and plopped down on it.

Gojo made a beeline to his room not wanting to hear any more of what his best friend had to say.

Upon entering he dropped his bag on the floor. Fell onto his bed face first face and laid like that for a bit.

"Okay okay waait." you slurred as you and Gojo sat on his bed with an open bottle of wine between you two that you shared swigs of.

The party going outside his room basically shook his door from how loud the music was being played. It was times like this that he was glad he and Geto agreed to moving into a Student Residential instead of a normal setting.

His fellow peers were too busy getting drunk, sleeping or minding their own business to care about another random party happening on a Saturday night.

"I never pegged you for the submissive type." you gave it some thought, or as much as your just above tipsy mind would allow.

Gojo grabbed the bottle between you two and chugged down a bit letting the sweet liquor take over his throat. "Well it'd mostly depend on the person in charge. I can't just submit to anybody ya know."

"So," you took the bottle from him and swung it back finishing it's contents, "If it were me?"

You got on your hands and knees and crawled the short distance between you two, making sure that once you got close enough to get on your knee in front of his sat body making him look up at you.

He brought his hands to your waist as his pupils dilated in the blue sea that were his eyes. You slowly caressed his smooth face with both your hands before moving one to his hair, pulling it back a little more till he was looking at you through his fair eye lashes.

"Well if it were you I don't think you'd be able to handle me right." he said, voice barely above a whisper but loud enough to hear over the music that thumped his door.

He moved his hands up and down your body feeling you up before slipping them under your shirt and gripping the skin that was there.

"is that a challenge pretty boy?" you started closing in on his lips.

"And what if it is?" he was visibly excited.

"Then I'm gonna have to take you up on it." your breathe fanned his lips before securing yours on his.

***

The day after you had found yourself in his bed naked in his arms. You may have drunken a lot but you sure as hell were not that drunk to forget everything that happened.

Getting out of the bed and looking for your clothes must've been what woke him up. He watched you in silence get dressed before deciding to make it known he was awake too.

"Morning." he greeted giving you a little jump.

"Oh, morning Gojo."

"Satoru."

"Oh, first name basis now?" you teased.

"I had you screaming it, I don't see why we'd have to revert back to my surname at this point."

He was right. If anything after last night's event, reverting back to how things were was going to be weird.

"So," you started trying to figure out how to word what you were about to ask while looking for your bottoms. "Friends?"

"Personally...I'd like to keep this going." he looked at you expectantly awaiting your response.

You paused your search to look at him. He was very much still in his birthday suit with his covers on his bottom half.

Would you like to go into an arrangement with the same man you had a what you define as a high school crush on?

Would it be a good idea?

Well, if you were least likely to end up in a relationship with him why not just have a little fun with this.

Fuck it.

"I'm up for it."

He gave you a lazy smile before getting up from his bed. You watched his sculpted body leave his covers and make his way towards you.

"What you want to pinky promise to this?" you let out a little laugh.

Arm snaking around your waist while the other went to cup your cheek.

"I was thinking of something a lot better."

That was about 4 months ago.

Nothing really changed from where you two stood as friends other than the fact you fell harder for Gojo each day while unknowing to Gojo himself he was in the same predicament.

Sure he enjoyed the sex but he enjoyed your company as well. Jus having you around to talk to or watch a movie or go on a random adventure or coffee shop hangouts or having study sessions together made his day.

He loved the way you laughed at his dumb jokes and the smile you gave him that you didn't really give to anyone else. He loved getting to cuddle you while watching a series you found together. He loved hearing about your latest interest and the excitement you held behind each word.

He loved...

He loved you.

He LOVED YOU.

He's a fucking idiot for not understanding that so soon. it was right in front of him.

But you liked someone else.

So what does it matter.

A lot. It matters a lot.

He got out his bed to grab his phone in his bag.

What was he doing?

Pulling up your chat obviously.

Was he going to confess his newly discovered love for you over text?

Why of course not.

He was going to invite you over. A lot needed to be discussed anyways.

come over? we need to talk

What did y'all think though? It'd be nice to get some feedback since I haven't written for quite some time now.

So um,,,this is gonna be getting more parts than this because I didn't reach the cutesy ending I wanted to. I also didn't want to make it too smutty since I wasn't sure if you'd like it but if you would like the stuff they do inbetween I can write those seperately!!

Will go through at a later stage to edit it.

#mgojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento #fwb to lovers #smut #gojo x fem!reader

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hannagoldworthy · 1 year ago

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Looks like Someone stole her mommy’s phone to circumvent my IP block lol. You need some attention, Domina? You getting bored under your bridge? Get used to it, because now this IP is blocked too.

Still, I have to laugh, because once again you are utilizing big words to try and intimidate me, but because you’re about as literate as a rock at the bottom of the Marianas Trench, you’re doing it wrong. Female chauvinism is an entirely different beast from plain chauvinism (also called MALE chauvinism, for reasons that should be clear to you). Next time, just cut out the word ‘female’ and call me a misogynistic sow again - we both know that’s what you wanted to call me in the first place.

Also, it’s amazing how someone who’s trying to accuse ME of misogyny just referred to two prominent female characters as objects that were readily interchangeable, with their only impact on the story being their effects on their male love interests. This is tragicfantasy-girl, folks! Voice of downtrodden women EVERYWHERE!

I love it, you completely disregard Padmé’s and Satine’s feelings on this matter. As much as I may joke about how Obi-Wan is the objectively more attractive man, I sincerely doubt Padmé would be more than passingly interested in dating him - Natalie Portman specifically said that Padmé liked Anakin because he helped her escape from her adult life into a romantic fantasy she hadn’t had the opportunity to indulge during her short childhood. Obi-Wan was not in the business of escapism, so she never really thought of him as more than a friend or a coworker.

And Satine? Satine would have ripped Anakin a new asshole, let’s be honest. She would have started gently, hinting strongly that she still thought of him as a child, wearing the dowdiest clothes in her wardrobe, maintaining a minimum distance between them, setting up a cover story as a brother and sister traveling rather than a married couple. Then, she would have firmly denied his advances, tried to set him up with her younger sister (and her nephew, when that fell through), had him sit and watch her do paperwork all day, and when he broke out the amateur-night Shakespeare monologue, she’d haul out the big guns and say “oh, Obi-Wan used to say the same things to me when we were young.” And, when she heard that he committed the war crime of collective punishment by killing Tusken Children for the crimes of their parents, she’d have reported him to the Council immediately upon seeing them, middle of a battle or no. Anatine as a concept is DOA.

But don’t let that stop you! If you really want to write that fanfic, you go on right ahead, Domina! I know you’re probably blonde in real life because you have this weird fixation on blonde female characters that makes you take any slight against them too personally! Why don’t you turn that energy into writing the Anatine fic nobody except you has ever asked for? Project your rancid personality on Satine and bone Anakin in effigy as much as you want! It’s what fanfic was MADE for!

#I’m laughing so fucking hard guys #this is hysterical #“Anon” asks #tragicfantasy-girl #I KNOW IT’S YOU BITCH #TRY GETTING NEW INSULTS AND I MIGHT BE FOOLED #TRY ALTERING YOUR ENTIRE WRITING STYLE #I STAND BY THE STATEMENT THAT YOU SOUND LIKE PALPATINE PLEASURING HIMSELF #Star Wars #Padme Amidala #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Satine Kryze #Anakin Skywalker #anti-obidala #but no insult to obidalans because there’s nothing wrong with the ship #I just don’t ship it #anti-anatine #with ALL the insult to the ONE ANATINE SHIPPER IN THE WORLD #because Domina English is a censorious loudmouth who can’t tolerate opinions other than her own

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flightyalrighty · 10 months ago

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not a question but damn i remember seeing this when it was just shadow and rouge sat in a cave and i knew nothing about the parasite thing so when i saw this again i was like "oh cool. zombie stuff. im fine with zombie stuff now this sounds like a fun infection au thing or whatever" and like, the reason why i WASNT okay with zombie stuff was the last of us bc i was really young? and it made me hate parasites and stuff like that + zombies but the only zombies i was okay with was like, headcrabs? so i saw the parasite warning and i was like "ohh this'll be fiine itll be like cartoony or some shit like headcrabs or like videogame stuff" but the fucking scene of it poking a hole in shadow's leg UPSET me. like it made me feel uncomfortable across my whole body to the point i had to like check my legs for punctures or something.

like bravo but i was NOT expecting that lmao. like damn.

i mean id still like to keep reading cuz the art's fantastic and the concepts are fun on their own but if the execution of them keeps fucking with me this much then i might have to go lol. this is a positive for everybody but me though keep it dialed up for the people who can handle it. go further even. do what you want actually. im an anon you dont even know who i am.

It's good to know your limits! While I'm sorry you may have hit yours, I'm happy you stuck around for as long as you did -- Or if you even continue to stick around, should you dare!

For folks who have not seen it, by the way, this is my content warning page. If you see something in there that makes you squeamish, please don't stick around! I would never want anyone to harm themselves for the sake of this comic!

Looking ahead, for pages that are VERY gory, I will be placing them under a cut with a huge gore warning, just in case folks who don't want to see it and don't have the Infested Sonic Comic tag blocked aren't accidentally assaulted with those pages anyway.

Maybe I'll even paste the script below a gory page in a reblog so folks who ARE squeamish don't miss out on the story. What do you guys think?

#Anonymous #asks #infested sonic comic

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hamofjustice · 2 months ago

Text

Nemona the Unrivaled

Chapter 4 - Stars Align

Info / Chapter Select: here

(by popular demand, this fic continues!)

Nemona, Arven, and Cyclizar were making good time on their ride to Uva Academy. The young Champion thought maybe they'd even have time for a battle or two before they had to go sign in… right as the gleam of some familiar white helmets caught her attention.

"Whoa, hold up, Cyclizar." she commanded in a low voice, and the motorcycle-like lizard slowed to a stop a few yards away from her least favorite staircase -- gradually, so as to not throw Arven off. It didn't particularly enjoy stairs either, so they were going to stop there regardless.

Arven had been uncharacteristically quiet most of the way, but the commotion ahead got his attention. "Huh?"

Two members of the delinquent student gang known as Team Star seemed to be blocking the path of a teen with short but eye-catching red and blue hair and a big plush Eevee backpack. Even though their target didn't seem to be wearing Uva's uniform, Nemona quickly decided it was her duty to watch what happened next and possibly intervene…

"Don’t you get it?! If you join Team Star, you can shine as bright as anybody!" "Yeah! Seriously, what’s with you? Don’t you wanna burn bright with awesome friends like us?"

The girl they were harassing sighed. "… Not really."

The pair's casual demeanor quickly flipped to aggressive. "Look, we’ve got a quota we’re supposed to fill for new members, so just sign up already!"

Typical recruiters. Nemona rolled her shoulders and began stomping toward them.

"Um… I'd rather not…" the cornered girl muttered flatly, unmoved -- though her Galarian accent poked through, regardless.

The student council president made her presence known behind the delinquent duo, as Arven dismounted her Cyclizar in the background. "Oye! Pero bueno, what's going on here? Trying to pressure people into signing up again?"

The two punks jumped out of their skin and spun around, instantly toppled from the high ground they thought they had over the situation. Now that she saw their faces, Nemona remembered their last names from having reported them previously…

"Gah! It's that student council dweeb!" shouted Gruntae, the newer recruit. "Shh! Ah, hi. We weren't… NOT doing that…" added Gruntby, unhelpfully.

Nemona's expression shifted from protective anger to a dangerous smirk as she got closer. "Well, it just so happens me and my friend here are just DYING for a battle--" she began, tilting her head in Arven's direction.

"We are?" he asked, glancing down at Cyclizar as if expecting the lizard to shrug.

"-- so why don't you two help me make an example of what happens when someone tries bullying kids on my watch?"

"Uh, yeah, pick on somebody your own size, like her!" Arven awkwardly joined in, pointing at Nemona.

The Eevee fan pushed up her round glasses. "Um, actually I'm perfectly capa--"

"Bullying? Hey, you heard us, we're just looking for new friends! Right?" Gruntby asked Gruntae. "Yeah! W-we just want folks to know how much more popular they'd be with us!" "Right! Seems SOME people are fine with being total nobodies forever, though…"

"HEY!" yelled Nemona, which made the quiet girl trying to slip past the grunts unnoticed jump in surprise and skitter the rest of the way to her defenders' side.

Nemona cleared her throat before continuing, feeling a little hoarse after her previous outburst that morning. "I don't know what you call that kinda talk except bullying! Now, if you really wanna-- *cough* wanna 'make friends' with this girl, you're gonna have to get past us first." Nemona challenged. She held out a Poke Ball with one of her arms bracing the other, like it was an arm cannon ready to fire. "Ready?"

"Hold on, I'm not sure I should, uh…" Arven began to protest.

"Right, right, this would be a much more fruitful battle if we got our new Pokemon some beginner's experience with it! Silly me!" she said, swapping out her Tauros's Ball for Sprigatito's.

Arven blinked. "… Yeah, I mean, I… sure. Okay. Just what I was gonna say, Prez." he said with a shrug before holding up a Ball of his own.

"Beginners?! Hey! You can't just go treatin' Team Star like easy pickings! For the honor of the team, we've got no choice but to burn you to ash now!" shouted Gruntby. "… We don't?" asked Gruntae. "Shouldn't we just book it? I mean--" "No way! C'mon!" her teammate insisted.

With that, the four students spread out and turned the side street into their impromptu battlefield. The red-and-blue-haired girl stuck around to watch as well, lightly knocking on the side of her head like she was trying to remember something…

Arven, staring down their opponents, stepped up to Nemona's side and whispered "Didn't we both just get these Pokemon? Are you sure they can handle this?"

"Hey, we're both pros even if they're not yet, right? And we've both got Tera Orbs -- I'm sure these punks don't."

"You think I'm a pro…? But you're--"

"YO, EARTH TO DWEEBS! Less prattling, more battling!" interrupted Gruntae.

"Nice." approved Gruntby with a high-five.

=====

Gruntae and Gruntby of Team Star want to battle!

Gruntae sent out Shroodle! Gruntby sent out Yungoos!

Nemona sent out Sprigatito! Arven sent out Skwovet!

=====

"Haha, weak! You must be really full of yourselves if you think you can win with those!" taunted Gruntby.

"Callate, you! Now, let's focus down that Shroodle, before it--"

"Acid Spray!" interrupted Gruntae.

"Dive low and Scratch!"

After a moment, Nemona's Sprigatito did in fact pounce on the Shroodle and dodge the Poison attack in the process, correctly predicting the spray would launch in an arc and not straight at the little cat's face. She was also correct to assume that a starter Pokemon from the school would have some basic training.

"Bite that Shroodle like a Berry, before it moves again!" called Arven to Skwovet, keeping up the pressure on the opponent that had a type advantage just as Nemona wanted.

"Tackle 'em!" ordered Gruntby to his Yungoos, knocking back the weaker Sprigatito several feet and chasing it down to finish it off.

"Here goes… Terastallize!" shouted Nemona, tossing her Tera Orb to encrust her Sprigatito in brilliant green crystal. "Overgrown Leafage on that Yungoos!"

Arven followed suit, turning his little squirrel a shining white. "You too, Skwovet! Use this to Tackle that Shroodle with all you've got!

And soon…

=====

Nemona and Arven won the battle!

=====

"W-well, um, uh, h-hasta la vistar! ☆" Gruntae sputtered, hastily signing the team's signature star symbol before she ran off toward a nearby alley.

Gruntby, meanwhile, stood his ground, gritting his teeth. "Hmph. Figures your pal here would be a cheater like you, Prez. Did your daddies buy you those toys, just like your grades?"

Nemona's eye twitched as her face scrunched up to mirror his. "I earned mine fair and square, by putting in the work -- and so could you, if you'd stop skipping class and causing trouble! I'm not special!"

"Tch! Like you're gonna let any of us set foot in that school again without reportin' us. You got a point with that last part, though -- you ain't special, just lucky."

Nemona did her best to ignore that jab. "You guys do realize you haven't been expelled yet because we don't WANT to, right? Because the Director's been holding out hope that we can help you grow like we're supposed to?"

The Team Star boy stared blankly for a moment, then flipped back to casual mode. "Whatever. I'll be on my merry way back where I don't need fixing… Hasta la vistaaarrr! ☆"

She watched him run off, her face frozen in a frown. It was so frustrating how Team Star thought they were in the right, even as they insulted, hassled, and blockaded whoever they wanted. Neither she nor the teachers could really figure out what to do about them, especially given that they were just kids in need of guidance and not real criminals. If only she could solve this problem through battling. That was one of maybe two things she was actually good--

"I… uh… I just… Well, thanks." stammered the girl they helped, snapping Nemona back to normal.

"Wha-- Yeah! Yeah, no problem!"

"You all right there, Prez?" Arven asked.

Nemona suddenly realized she had quite a few eyes on her at that moment, human and Pokemon alike. She cleared her throat, straightened her tie, and tightened her glove before turning around. "Yeah, I'm fine! Wish battling actually solved anything, though. Um, how about you, uh…?"

"… Oh, P-Penny. Name's Penny. I'm a student here, too…"

"Hi, Penny! I'm Nemona!"

"And I'm Arven."

"You're not hurt anywhere, are you?" Nemona asked, twisting herself around to inspect the new girl curiously.

"No, Team Star doesn't, uh, didn't hurt me, no." she stammered.

"Good!" Nemona exclaimed, as Arven nodded.

"I… wouldn't let them." Penny added with an unexpected confidence.

"I don't think I've seen you around before -- I'll be your student council president this semester, in theory. Nice to meet you!" Nemona said, holding out her gloved hand.

Penny glanced between Nemona's smile and hand a few times before going for the handshake. "N-nice to meet you, too, Nemona. Arven. Um… g-good to, uh, know we've got… h-heroes watching over us… I, um, we should probably get going before we're late, though…"

"Right, I guess that ate up the time we had to spare, eh?" Arven noted.

Penny turned to face the massive staircase up to Uva Academy. "See you around…"

"All right! We'll catch up to you in a sec! Cool bag, by the way! Love that fluff!"

"Uh… thanks."

Nemona sighed contentedly as she watched that Penny girl make her way up, proud to be someone's hero. She rattled her head to get her mind back to business and started digging through her bag, looking for a healing Potion to spray Sprigatito with and the Balls to put it and Cyclizar into, as the two Pokemon looked up at her expectantly.

"Sorry, I, uh--" Arven began to mutter.

"Wha-huh? For what?"

"Those guys kinda remind me of what I'm normally like…"

"Pshhh, not even close! Besides, we turned over a new leaf, bud! Right?"

"I… yeah, I guess. I've just never been on your side of something like that before."

"Well… I'm glad you're here now." Nemona said with a warm smile.

Arven averted his gaze toward the stairs, rubbing the back of his neck while Skwovet sat on his other shoulder. "Bit weird she's not in uniform, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I wasn't sure if she went here at first! She must be new -- the Director or somebody'll probably say something to her about the dress code before I have to, though." Nemona reasoned as she finished up her team maintenance. "All right… ready for the worst staircase in the world?"

"Yep." Arven answered, pulling the straps taut on his heavy backpack.

Nemona took a deep breath, and… dashed up at full speed!

"Whoa, take it easy, you maniac!"

… She only made it about halfway before she stopped to catch her breath, and looked back to see Arven -- as well as several other students -- catching up to her at a comfortable walking pace.

Arven smirked as he walked up to her again. "Guess you were right about not making it up here easily. You looked like more of an athlete than that…"

"Haha… nope… definitely… not…"

"Well, you'd probably make it further if you took your time and paced yourself. Less likely to break something if you trip, too." Arven advised. "Keep those legs loose at least, you don't want to cramp up from suddenly standing still." His Skwovet squeaked in agreement.

Nemona took the suggestion and started shifting around on her feet. "Heh… are YOU an athlete, Arven?"

"Me? Nah, just stuff you should know if you do a lot of hiking."

Nemona nodded. "Guess I've been pretty reliant on my Pokemon to help me get around…"

After a moment or two, she looked back up from the ground and was pleasantly surprised to realize Arven was still waiting for her.

"You ready?" he asked.

"I think so. Pacing myself, huh…"

This time, they walked together the rest of the way, and made their way inside…

#pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon sv #pokemon scarvio #nemona #nemona pokemon #pokemon fanfiction #nemonaposting #hamfiction #nemona the unrivaled #arven pokemon #arvenposting #penny pokemon #pennyposting #team star #zero crew

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