#he's gonna wear these all the time now thank you Sam <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sinner-as-saint · 1 year ago

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run for your life

Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: He was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with.

Themes: slight stalker!bucky, possessive!bucky, mild degrading kink, smut, FLUFF, opposite aesthetics, mild daddy kink (nicknames only), cosy little town vibes

a/n: some fluffy mob!bucky to end the year <3 Thank you so much for always supporting my silly little fics. Merry Christmas my darlings, and happy New Year!! See you soon ;)

He didn't know where exactly he would end up locating you, but finding you in a cosy, small, coastal town in the south of France was not on his list.

You being the owner of a gourmet bakery was not on his list either. Bucky was confused, surprised, but mostly confused. How did this happen? At first, when Sam came to deliver him the news of your location that morning, Bucky didn’t believe him. Had Sam not been Bucky’s oldest, most loyal friend Bucky would’ve never believed him at all.

“I’m gonna need you to stop being a dumbass and go find this girl!” Sam, ever the voice of reason yelled at Bucky who had been drowning in his sorrows. “It’s been months, and I can’t keep covering for your ass. I have my own shit to do, my own men to command.” He used that cool, authoritative voice of his. “Pull yourself together, Buck. Go find her.”

Sam was right. Of course he was. He always was. And it had really been months since that damned night…

—

Bucky couldn’t wait to get out of his plane the moment it landed. It was late at night, but the perfect time to go to the club. He had missed it. Well, not the whole club really. Bucky had missed you.

He had a… special connection with you. His girl. His only girl. His favourite girl.

This time, he thought, he would do whatever he can to solidify whatever was happening between the two of you. Maybe he’d even get you to go on a real date with him. Maybe that would lead to something more. He was smiling to himself just thinking about it.

He often thought back to the night you met. He was at the club after a long day of being the dark ruler he was. All he wanted was a drink and a pretty woman on his lap. That’s when he found you.

Right as he walked in, you caught his eye. Walking around serving drinks, wearing a little see-through red dress that brought every man you walked past to his knees.

Once he got to his booth, Bucky called you over. You walked towards him sheepishly.

“I’ve never seen you around here before, beautiful.” He said, patting his thigh. He noticed the way you hesitated. Must be new, he thought.

You carefully perched on his lap, holding your empty metal tray to your chest. Bucky smirked as he looked at it, like you were putting a makeshift barrier between the two of you. When you remained quiet and squirmy, Bucky spoke up again.

“Come on, babygirl. Talk to me, it’s okay.” He whispered at his nuzzled your neck. “I don’t bite. Unless you ask nicely, then I might.”

His warm breath against your skin tickled. You chuckled as you pulled away to look at him. “Um, I’m just a waitress. I’m not supposed to…” You trailed off. Both of you were aware of the no-contact ‘rule’. But there was a natural, unexplainable spark there that neither of you could ignore.

“Hmm,” His chest rumbled. “How about we go somewhere private?” He whispered into your ear and noticed the way you shivered.

You hung your head, clutching your metal tray. “Waitresses aren’t supposed to go into the VIP rooms, sir.” You said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear you above the sensual music.

Bucky smirked. Then leaned in and whispered, “I suppose I can bend the rules a little given I co-own the club.”

You froze and went to stand up immediately, already apologising but he wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you on his lap.

“It’s okay, babygirl. You’re not in trouble, I promise.”

The two of you ended up in one of the VIP rooms. Nothing happened, you just kissed and talked and kissed some more. Bucky promised to come back. And he did. For months. Again and again and each time he did, you were drawn to him like he was gravity from the very moment he walked into the room.

And that night he landed after being away for weeks, he expected you to run right into his arms the moment he’d enter the club like you always did. He even got you a nice little gift to make up for the time that he’d been away. It was a rare, red diamond choker. He could already imagine how it would look around your neck. Like a brand. His.

But then he got to the club. And he noticed everyone was avoiding his eyes almost anxiously. And his girl was nowhere to be seen. He searched for you in the main area for a while, then even searched the VIP rooms, vowing to commit horrible crimes if he ever found you in there with another man.

But no.

He called Sam, who co-owned the club, and Sam had no idea who he was talking about. Bucky asked the staff members, and one bartender finally told him that you’d resigned a few weeks ago. And no one knew where you went. He asked for your full name, but no one knew that either.

Not even Sam. “I didn’t even know we had a new waitress, Buck. I have more important shit to worry about.” He’d said, adding to the burning sensation in Bucky’s chest.

“She left me.”

Sam had no idea what his best friend was babbling about. And during the many months that followed, Bucky was a mess. A mess like Sam had never seen before. Frantically scanning country after country, searching for a girl with no name. He was in love, and he wasn’t giving up. He would find his girl come what may.

—

But now Bucky knew where you were.

And he was more confused than ever. He had even more questions.

Bucky spent a whole week in that little town. Watching you, learning your routine, observing and questioning. He disguised himself as a local and always kept his distance even though his hands itched to touch you.

At first he was bothered by how you were fine with living the same day everyday. Your routine seemed boring at first, but the more he watched, the more he realised it was sort of therapeutic. The normality of it all.

He rented an apartment on the other side of the street from your bakery, and he spent hours watching you.

You lived right above the bakery. A quaint apartment, with flower pots all around the french windows. Sometimes when you forgot to turn the lights off at night, Bucky spent the whole night spying on you, counting your breaths as you slept on your couch in front of the TV.

You’d wake up at the crack of dawn, then you’d feed your dogs. He noticed you had two. Lazy, both of them. Then you’d get downstairs and within half an hour, the cool air that entered his apartment carried the smell of the sea and baked goods.

All he wanted was to cross the cobblestone street and drag you to his bed, demand answers while fucking some sense into you. But the more he watched you, the more his anger diminished. Temporarily.

The genuine smile on your face as you served your loyal customers all day, especially the ones who always came early in the morning on their way to work. The occasional sound of your voice or your laughter that slipped past whenever someone didn’t close the door right. The sound of children squealing and laughing whenever you gave away leftover baked goods or donuts in the evenings. How you knew almost everyone by name. How sometimes you invited neighbours over for wine nights. How you went on little walks in late, cool evenings, forcing your lazy pets to walk but then ending up having to carry them on the way back. They were spoiled, he realised. He hated to admit that he was jealous of the damned dogs who got so much of your attention while he starved for it.

He wasn’t angry by the end of that first week of spying, he was just hurting. How dare you live a whole new life without him? How dare you laugh and seem like you don’t miss him? He’d just spent months looking for you and here you were, just going about your day like you didn’t care? Like none of those nights you’d spent together mattered?

Meanwhile he was shaking just reminiscing the way your touch felt across his skin. He remembered the first time the two of you crossed that line in one of the VIP rooms…

You were wearing that red dress again. Fucking tease, he hissed each time you moved or squirmed on his lap.

“Baby, please,” He groaned. “Just… let me touch you. Daddy will make you feel good, so good babygirl, I promise.” He pleaded, hands caressing your soft, warm thighs.

You shook your head, popping another one of those chocolates he brought you into your mouth and sucking your fingers after. Torturing him.

“We can’t,” You insisted, with nothing but mischief in your eyes as you looked at him. “You made these rules yourself, remember?” You chuckled when he groaned again when you straddled him properly.

“I don’t give a shit about rules.” He hissed, nuzzling your neck. Slowly, he kissed up and down your neck. “I just wanna taste you. That’s it. Just a taste.”

That’s how he found himself on his knees, face in between your thighs. His skilled tongue making you whine and whimper as you tugged on his hair. Bucky hummed in appreciation the more he tasted you.

“Come on daddy’s face, baby…”

That’s it.

Bucky decided he would go see you the next morning. He would drag you back home if he had to, but he wouldn’t spend another day without you. Who did you think you were? No one just tosses him aside like this. He’d remind you who he was and then you’d both go home right away.

—

Bucky woke up to a thunderstorm. Weather around here was unpredictable. He got out of bed and immediately looked outside to find your bakery empty. No customers in sight because of the heavy rain, lightning and thunder. The golden light was on though.

He decided it was time to go have a talk with you. He promised not to lose his temper. He would go in there calmly, talk it out with you. Ask you what the fuck you are doing here, and then he’d take you home.

But that ended up not happening.

Bucky crossed the slippery cobblestone street, walked into your comforting, sweet smelling bakery and froze. He froze right there at the entrance.

As did you. Standing there behind the wooden counter, oven mittens in your hand and apron in another, you stared at Bucky with nothing but pure shock and surprise on your face. A thousand thoughts, mainly questions, crossed your mind.

What is he doing here? How did he find you? Why is he dressed casually like a local, wearing soft colours instead of his usual suits? How long has he been here? What is he doing here?

You let out a little gasp. “Bucky?”

Wrong move, apparently. Because his demeanour changed in a nanosecond. His calm and collected-ness was forgotten instantly. Jaws clenched, with a murderous look in his eyes, he walked closer, more like charged at you, and around the counter before you could even get a word out.

He had you pinned to the nearest wall before you could process it all. Knocking down a framed picture in the process. Towering above you, he looked like he was beyond pissed.

“Bucky, I—,”

“Shut up.” He hissed, voice cold with bitterness and anger. He watched how you shivered when he pinned your wrists to the wall on either side of your head. “Shut the fuck up.”

He leaned closer, chest pressing against yours leaving no space in between. He closed his eyes and sighed for a moment, trying his hardest to see reason but he was angry. So angry he couldn’t think.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He spoke with such a low voice that you trembled against him, causing him to tighten his grip around your wrists, surely bruising them. You didn’t care.

You winced, “I can explain.” Fuck, you’d missed him too. It had been months since you last saw him. He was just as handsome as you remembered. His hair was a little longer now, his beard a little thicker. But he made your heart race just the same. “Please Bucky,” You whispered, “let me explain everything to you.”

“No.” He growled before pressing his mouth to yours, angrily. Like he wanted his kiss to hurt. And it did.

His rough facial hair scratched your skin, his teeth nibbled on and bit your lips. His hands damn near crushed your wrists in his strong grip. And he didn’t give you even the briefest second to breathe. He kissed you just like how he imagined he would do once he found you. Ravenously. Pouring everything he felt into it. Desperation, anger, hurt, obsession. He couldn’t get enough.

“Bucky…” You gasped against his lips when he finally pulled away. Breathing fast, you tried to get a look at him but he just seemed even more angry.

“Turn around,” He mumbled, forcing you to turn around anyway. Fuck, the sight of you in that long, flowy, sundress was doing things to him. He was never this bothered when you used to parade around in your little see-through dresses, but somehow the sight of you in this pink, floral dress was making him act like a caveman.

His movements were rash and angry. He almost tore your dress off of you while he shoved his rough hand in between your legs and touched you where you desperately wanted him to. You whined and trembled against the cool wall when he slid a finger in, fucking you with it while he hissed into your ear.

“I should punish you for what you did to me,” His deep voice made his chest rumble against your back. “I should tie you up and fuck you however I want.”

Your dress was partially off, bunched and only hanging on around your waist. Being so dishevelled made this even dirtier. You were moaning by now, hoping the heavy rain would blur your actions from anyone who walked by the shop. Or god forbid, walk in.

“How dare you think you can just leave me?” He demanded, sliding another finger inside you and making your body come alive.

You were embarrassingly wet at this point, and the sounds your body made as he finger-fucked you were lewd. But you couldn’t get enough.

More, more, more. You mentally chanted.

Bucky wasn’t having the silent treatment, so he smacked your thigh to get your attention. You yelped. Your skin stung as he smacked it again, on the same spot. Harder this time. You cried out even louder as he kept taunting you. “Answer me, you fucking brat!” His lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke. “Why did you leave me?”

You cried as he kept fucking you with his fingers you even as you came. His fingers sliding in and out with ease now. The sounds you made were wanton. “You… you left first.” You tried to argue. But failed miserably.

He chuckled in that dark and dangerous way of his. “I left for work.” He said, “And I promised you I’d be back.” He reached deeper inside you, curling his fingers just enough to make you mutter incoherent things. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“Please, please, please…” You begged. “Please I need to come, Bucky please.”

“Oh?” He chuckled again, slowing down his movements purposely. “No one touched you, huh?” He playfully bit on your exposed shoulder. “You’re so fucking wet it’s dripping down my hand, babygirl.” He boasted. “Is it because no one has touched you these past few months? Hmm?”

“Yes…” You had tears streaming down your face, and you nodded breathlessly. “Please…”

But instead of making you come all over his fingers, Bucky pulled away for a brief moment. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him undoing his trousers. And moments later, he was rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds. You shivered in pleasure.

“I’m gonna teach you what happens to people who think they can run from me, babygirl.” He growled as he pushed his cock into you, making you cry out loud as he stretched you out.

After months of not having him, right now he felt huge inside you. Just like that, memories of nights spent with him came flooding back in. You moaned as his fingers found your clit again, rubbing it in sync with his thrusts.

His hand gripped you by the hips, holding you against him as he sped up into you, fucking you like he hated you. Like it was punishment. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck and licked, and bit on your skin as he fucked into you relentlessly, earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls.

“Did you think I’d never find you?” He asked, fucking into you. “I bet you thought you’d gotten rid of me, hmm?”

You’d missed him too. He could tell by the way you were starting to clench around him already. Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how good he felt inside you.

“See, it didn’t have to be like this, baby…” he mumbled angrily against your skin while he fucked you like an animal, “I could be nice and gentle with your body, but you just had to be a fucking brat and leave me with no warning.” He spat, growling in your ear as he pounded into you, your chest slamming into the wall with each thrust. It hurt in the best way.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” He moaned against your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake as he quickened his pace, pounding into you mercilessly.

The pleasure, the pain, the heat of him… was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Bucky–,” You choked on your words as you came undone, walls clenching around him, and a loud moan erupting from your mouth as he made you come hard. It was almost blinding.

His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls, moaning out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He came while biting down hard on your shoulder. So hard that even you cried out, still coming down from your high as you felt him spill deep inside you.

That bite on your shoulder hurt. And like a chain reaction, everything began to hurt. Having him here hurt. Memories of being with him in the city, in the dark rooms of that club hurt. Realising how fast your life changed hurt.

You didn’t realise you were sobbing quietly until you heard Bucky apologising profusely. Suddenly no longer angry. No longer feeling betrayed.

“Fuck, baby. I’m so sorry.” He kissed that sore spot softly, his bite mark on your shoulder repeatedly as he wrapped his arms around you, securing you in the comfort of his embrace. “I don’t know what came over me, babygirl. I’m so sorry, please look at me. Hey, hey,” He pulled away and turned you so you faced him, still with tears in your eyes. “Babygirl, I’m so sorry.” He whispered, wiping your tears away, then kissing your face repeatedly.

You remained like that for a few minutes. Arms wrapped around one another, standing there against that wall while it rained like hell outside. Bucky didn’t stop apologising.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been an animal like this with you, I—,”

You cut him off finally, “Shh, it’s okay.” You pulled away from his warm chest to look up at him. “I needed this.” You said, sniffling as you gently cupped his rough cheek, caressing his face with your thumb. “I needed you like this.”

He just hugged you close again, kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry.” He apologised one final time. “I’ll listen, I promise. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

You smiled faintly at him. “Then I should lock up down here and we can go upstairs. I don’t want to scare my neighbours by risking them finding us like this.” You looked down at your partially torn dress and Bucky’s unbuttoned trousers.

Much to your surprise, Bucky said, “You go ahead, I’ll close and lock up.”

You frowned at him even as you desperately tried to get the top of your sundress to cover your chest. “You wouldn’t know how to…” You trailed off as realisation set in. He was a calculated, smart man. He didn’t just apparate on your doorstep with no planning. “You’ve been watching me.” You stated, raising an eyebrow at him.

Bucky gave you a rare, guilty look.

You sighed and shook your head. “I guess I chose this life by getting involved with you.” You gave him a faint smile. “Alright then, lock it. Leave the key in the little basket by the door.” You started walking towards the stairs, then turned around again and said, “Make sure the windows are properly locked too, because of the rain and stuff.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky nodded.

You smirked at him.

With that you took the stairs and Bucky watched you go with a fond smile on his face. No one ever ordered him around. He hated it. But coming from you, he quite liked it.

Bucky chuckled at himself because never in his life had he ever imagined he would one day be closing up a bakery in a small town, all for the woman he’s obsessively in love with. But he didn’t mind it one bit.

After following your instructions and double checking the windows, he made his way upstairs as well. Again, he didn’t know what he expected your place to look like – and all that spying only allowed him glimpses of your apartment – but he never expected your space to look so…

Pink. With occasional gold accents. Pale pink couch, the one you often fell asleep on while watching TV, and fluffy white pillows and rugs to go with. Paintings hanging on even paler pink walls. The kitchen he couldn’t quite see but he assumed it’d have to be all white. Pink dog beds, with fluffy balls of brown fur sleeping on them – wearing pink collars no less.

He couldn’t see your bedroom from the living room given the door was closed but given the pink, fluffy robe and socks you wore he could imagine just how pink it must be.

“It’s so girly.” He commented, as if surprised. Maybe he was a little. After all, he knew you as the seductive goddess he met almost every night at the club. He never realised that it was all just a show, that it was all just a persona at work. In a way, stepping into your space felt so intimate. He liked it.

You chuckled. “Coquette, please.” You corrected as you handed him a glass of red wine while he took a seat beside you. He did look a little out of place in your apartment, a dark and broody man like him. But then again, he was here and that’s all that mattered.

He turned to look at you and couldn’t resist holding your hand and pulling you onto his lap again. “Come here,” He said, “I’ve missed you.”

As you straddled his lap, your robe exposed some of your shoulder and Bucky saw the very noticeable bite mark he left on you. He grimaced when he saw it. He placed his wine glass to the side and traced the bite mark with his thumb carefully.

“I’m sorry, babygirl.” He whispered, leaning in to nuzzle your neck and kiss the bite mark. And breathe in your scent. Fuck, he’d missed it so much. “You smell a little different. Fruitier.”

You giggled when his hair tickled your skin. “I made blueberry compote earlier this morning. Perhaps that’s why.”

You could feel him smiling against your skin. Then he pulled away to look at you. His hands shamelessly slid under your robe, eager to touch your skin. Relishing it this time, not in a feral hurry like he was earlier. He seemed visibly calmer too.

“We used to spend hours like this at the club, remember?” He spoke, and immediately you were overwhelmed with nostalgia.

Hours, days, weeks, months. Some days back then you would wake up in the morning already excited to see Bucky in the evening. And it wasn’t because it was all sexual. So many nights all you two did was drink, laugh and talk about everything. He once told you that apart from Sam, you were his only real friend.

Bucky kissed you, breaking you out of your reverie surely thinking of the past as well. It was a slow, gentle kiss. It was consuming you. His hands caressed your thighs which were still a little sore from earlier. You winced in pain when he massaged the spot where he spanked you.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss, apologising again as he kissed down your chin. “I’m sorry, babygirl.”

You smiled at him after taking a sip of your wine. “Stop pretending as if we were always vanilla or that this is scandalous in any way shape or form.” You chuckled as you leaned in to whisper in his ear, “We both know this was nothing compared to how we used to be.”

Bucky smiled, a little sadly. “I missed you.” He repeated. “Tell me,” He said, “Tell me everything.”

You finished your wine. “What do you want to know?”

“Why did you start working at the club?” He caught the look of sadness that suddenly appeared on your face upon hearing the question.

“I… I had to drop out of uni because my grandparents fell sick.” You explained. “Mom and dad were travelling for work at the time, and I was the only one who could take care of grandma and grandpa. The treatments and all ended up costing a little more than what we had so I needed a job that paid well, I also needed one that would allow me to be flexible with my time so I could take care of my grandparents.”

Bucky nodded, “Hence the club.”

You nodded in confirmation.

“Your parents never intervened? So you could finish your education?” He questioned.

“No.” You said, almost emotionless. “When they found out what I was doing, where I was working to earn the extra money we needed… they kind of disowned me. And vowed to never talk to me again.” You chuckled, humourlessly.

“They don’t deserve you.” Bucky said quickly, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close. “You were so brave baby, I wish you would’ve told me all of this.”

You slid your fingers into his hair and massaged his scalp gently. “You were already taking care of me.” You said, “You mended my heart a little each night when I saw you.”

“I wish I could’ve done more.” He kissed along your collarbones, then froze again as if he remembered something. “I almost forgot,” He said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a sleek black box. “I got you something.” Then clarified, “Well, I got you this months ago. I would’ve given it to you had you not run away from me.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “I didn’t run from you, I–,”

He cut you off with a finger on your lips. “Tell me about that part in a minute,” He opened the slender black box to reveal the red diamond choker inside. “I had this made for you.” He watched your face intently.

“Bucky…” You hesitantly reached for it, running your fingers over the beauty of it. It was a simple design. Elegant, timeless. Way too expensive. “I can’t take this,” You began protesting, “It’s too much.”

Bucky made a face and said, “Oh shut up.” He was already clasping it around your neck before you could protest any further. “It’s a gift from daddy,” He whispered against the corner of your lips. “You deserve it, babygirl.”

When he pulled away to look at you, his heart almost broke again at the sight of the tears in your eyes.

“What is it?” He asked, wiping your tears away for the second time today. “Is it that ugly?”

You laughed through the tears. “No, it’s the prettiest thing I own.” You sniffled. “The only piece of real jewellery in fact.” You leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Remind me to get you a whole collection.” Bucky pulled you closer and kissed you deeply.

Then it turned into something more and by the time the afternoon rolled around, the two of you had lost count how many times you’d made love on your pink couch. Slow touches and cuddles, and soft kisses always resulted in the two of you fucking again.

—

In the late afternoon, while snacking on random things Bucky realised you still hadn’t explained how you ended up here.

“Grandma and grandpa’s bakery.” You explained, watching the rain pour outside. “They left it to me. They died within weeks of each other,” You said with a melancholic smile on your face, “I always knew that would happen. They loved each other too much to live without one another for too long.”

You turned to look at Bucky who pulled you onto his lap again and held you as tightly as possible. You weren’t crying this time, but being held felt nice.

You continued, “I had funerals to plan, I had to pack up my life and move all the way here, I had to take on the responsibility of the bakery and renovate this apartment. And you were already gone at the time so…” You sighed. “I didn’t know if I should leave a note or not. I didn’t know if you were actually coming back or–,”

“I would never abandon you. I thought you knew that.” Bucky said, a little annoyed at that. “I made you a promise, did you not–,”

You couldn’t help but argue, “Yeah well, I didn’t know if what we had was real enough for you to come back to.”

Bucky frowned. “Baby…”

You gave him a small smile, and pressed your forehead against his, rubbing your noses together. “I know now. It is.”

When you finally pulled away from his addicting embrace you said, “I’m gonna get started on dinner. You can shower in there,” You pointed at your bedroom door as you got up from the couch. Bucky tried to grab you again but you pulled away laughing. “The weather is clearing up, we can have dinner outside on the patio.”

You threw him a wink and made your way into the kitchen.

Bucky finally got up and walked into your bedroom. Just as he imagined, the place was all white, gold, and pink. He actually laughed when he walked into the bathroom and found it pale pink as well. He’d grown to love it too by now.

–

You were busy at the stove, making your best seafood pasta, when you felt strong arms wrapping around you from behind.

“How’d you like my bedroom?” You asked, smirking already as you pictured him in your very girly space.

“It’s very pink. The bed looks comfy,” He whispered into your ear, “I’m gonna fuck you in it later.”

You chuckled and passed him another glass of wine. As you turned to face him again, you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. There he was, one of the scariest men you knew, standing in your grandma-core kitchen, wearing a fluffy white robe with pink clouds on it.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t comment on it. I can already hear Sam laughing his ass off and he’s not even here.”

You laughed even harder before you kissed his cheek. “It suits you.” You said. Then you handed him a couple of plates and pointed at the patio which could be seen from the kitchen window, “Can you set the table?”

He finished his wine and then mumbled on his way out like a grumpy old man, “First close the bakery, now set the table,” He shouted from outside, “You know, if this whole thing was your elaborate plan to hire me as your domestic helper, you could’ve just asked, babygirl.”

You laughed at him from inside the kitchen. You shook your head as you watched him. Wearing your fluffy robe, setting the small table on your patio. The view of the ocean from that patio was to die for, and the setting sun was just sublime. The golden lights you’d hung above the cute little dining area added to the cosy atmosphere. Now with the weather a lot nicer than it was hours ago, you could hear the small town coming alive again. Voice and laughter, children cycling down the cobblestone.

And Bucky. Bucky was here too. Winking at you from the patio. And you thought your life had ended when your parents disowned you. You scoffed at the thought. Then you thanked whatever god was listening for bringing Bucky back to you.

—

During dinner, Bucky filled you in on what he was up to while you were gone. And you did the same. One bottle of wine turned into two, then you and Bucky laughed at random things while you did the dishes.

Then you found yourselves in your bed. And like he promised, Bucky made love to you there as well.

His muscular body hovered above yours. He looked down at you with nothing but love and desire in his eyes as you undid the ridiculous robe to let his cock out. He was hard already.

“Think I like you a lot in this robe.” You teased.

Bucky laughed before leaning in for a kiss again. He nibbled along your skin, from your mouth to your neck as he parted your legs and slid into you.

You gasped as your walls welcomed him perfectly. He was nice and snug inside you, stretching you out in a way that had you whining and whimpering under him in no time.

Bucky laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head on your pink covers as he sped up into you. Your eyes rolled back once he started moving in and out of you. Taking his sweet time, loving the way his warm skin rubbed against yours.

He leaned in and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you slowly. “I love you.” He breathed against your mouth. “So fucking much.” He kissed along your skin and moaned into your ear as he sped up. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

“Oh Buck,” You smiled up at him, “I love you.”

“You’re mine.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you as he made you come again.

“And you’re mine.”

—

You woke up some time in the middle of the night, thirsty after all that wine from earlier. But the moment you sat up to get out of bed, Bucky woke up too. Asking in his groggy voice, which you had never heard before but concluded that it was kind of hot, “Where are you going? What is it?”

You smiled and kissed his forehead while getting out of bed, “Just thirsty. I’ll be right back.”

Bucky got up after you, getting out of bed as well. “I’m coming too.” He said, “I worry this girly room might engulf me if you leave me here alone.” He joked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he followed you out and into the kitchen.

Truth is, he didn’t want to be apart from you for even a second.

You handed him a glass of cold water while you put some water to boil to make tea. Some green tea should put the two of you right back to sleep, you thought.

So there you were in your cosy kitchen, wrapped in a soft blanket. Bucky leaned against the counter watching you. He was shirtless, just in some white, cotton pyjama pants that you lent him. They didn’t fit him at all but something about him in your clothes made him seem adorable.

You were both quiet. But you could feel Bucky thinking. He looked like he was trying to find the right way to ask you something. You didn’t know what. But he had that little frown on his forehead. You wanted to kiss it away.

“What is it?” You asked.

Bucky avoided your eyes, choosing to stare at the floor instead as he asked, “Do you think… I mean, would you ever come back home?”

Ah. The few moments of silence which followed were heavy. You didn’t like how that question put some kind of metaphorical distance between the two of you.

So you took a few steps and leaned into him. You placed your hands on his muscular, toned chest and said, “This is home, for me.” You gave him the truth. “That city was never home now that I think about it.” You smiled faintly, “The only good part was you.”

Bucky nodded. “So,” He began, then stopped to clear his throat and spoke again, “You won’t ever leave this place?”

You slid your hands up across his skin, feeling the warm, strong muscles underneath your palm. You traced his collar bones, then his neck and finally cupped his face in your hands. He wrapped his arms loosely around your middle.

“I love it here, Bucky.” You stated. “It’s quiet, and peaceful. It looks boring at first but it’s what I’ve always wanted.” You said. “Plus my grandparents left me this, it’s all I have of them.” You paused for a while, hating that look of hurt in his ocean blue eyes. “I won’t leave. This is my home now.”

Bucky was quiet. Even his breathing was slow.

You let go of him, took a step back and said, “Maybe you should head back.” It felt like the words sliced you from the inside. It hurt to even utter them. “You have a life there.” You gave him a sad smile. Followed by a faint chuckle. “Unless you want to take up fishing then I’m afraid there’s nothing for you here.”

He scoffed. “There’s you.” He said as if that was more than enough.

“Bucky.” You warned.

He shook his head, then reached for his phone which he’d forgotten in the kitchen earlier tonight. “Sam will probably fly out here to beat me up when I tell him.” He spoke, none of what he said made sense to you though.

“What are you–,”

“And he’ll have to work twice as much. But he’ll do great, I know. He’s Sam after all, strongest man I know.” Bucky carried on, ignoring your questions as he typed away on his phone. “I’ll do as much as I can from here, maybe fly back to the city once or twice a year to show my face.”

“Bucky,” You warned again, “What are you talking—,”

Bucky continued, cutting you off each time you tried to get a word in. “I’ll have to call my people, actually I have a lot of phone calls to make if–,”

You cut him off this time, stepping closer to him again and grabbing him by his broad shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky gave you a lovesick smile. “Well if you’re not going back to the city, neither am I.” He answered. You froze. He continued. “I’ll have to buy us a bigger home somewhere around here. We’ll keep the apartment and bakery of course, but maybe we could use some staff to help with maintenance and to keep the bakery running.”

He made a mental, makeshift plan while you had silent tears streaming down your face.

He continued, “We’ll get you back in uni, whichever one you want and whichever offers distance learning because there’s no way I’m letting you live on some campus away from me.” He paused, then said, “I’ll have to actually take up fishing. Maybe I’ll buy a few boats, you know I always wanted to be a yacht broker.” He sounded almost… hopeful. “Retirement sounds nice.”

You sniffled. “Buck…”

Bucky kept talking while he gently caressed your back. “I’ll have to learn French,” He groaned, “At this grown age.” He added. “I’ll have to know what's a chocolate croissant and what’s a pain au chocolat if I want to occasionally help out with the bakery. I can’t be uncultured while my wife is this connoisseur, you know? The locals will laugh at me.”

“Wife?” You questioned through tears and a faint, barely there smile.

He rolled his eyes. “Baby, I’m wearing your clothes, sleeping in your girly room, eating off of your floral plates.” He explained, “If you don’t marry me, I will lose my reputation.” He joked.

You laughed, and sobbed as you threw your arms around him, hugging him as tightly as you could.

“You don’t have to do this.” You spoke through tears. Your heart felt so full, you didn’t know how to handle a man like Bucky changing the course of his life for you. All for you.

Bucky hugged you back, kissing the top of your head. “I want to.” He said, “I have to. Otherwise you’ll run away again.” He teased.

You laughed quietly. “I won’t.” You said firmly.

“Good,” He sighed, squeezing you tightly in his arms before letting go. “Now I have to tell Sam.” He looked genuinely worried.

You giggled, then leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Tell him in the morning.” You whispered, your hands already trailing down to the waistband of the pyjama pants.

Bucky chuckled before leaning in to kiss you, deeply. “Okay baby,” He whispered, forgetting everything else as he got lost in you all over again.

He made love to you right there in the kitchen, sliding in between your legs as you sat on the edge of the counter. Slow and gentle. Kissing you softly, making a mess of you as he made you come over and over and over again. Whispering against your heated skin, your wet, open mouth, “You’re mine…”

“All yours,” You answered, holding him tightly. Your nails scratching down his back, your skin burning in all the best ways as his beard scratched it each time he kissed you.

This time, he made you a different promise.

“If you chose to run again, you better run for your life and pray I never find you, babygirl…” He whispered into your ear as he slid inside you again. His cock made it hard for you to focus on anything else but you tried your hardest to hear him out. “Because I won’t be this kind if I ever have to hunt for you again.”

You laughed, but ended up moaning as he bit down on your other shoulder this time. Marking you as his again.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader

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innorogers · 3 months ago

Text

Nightmare

Steve Rogers x Reader (You)

Summary: Steve stood in front of the mirror, staring back at him, was a man madly in love. But as much as he wanted to be only that—just a man in love—he wasn’t. Falling so hard for you that he didn’t want to face the reality. There was still a world beyond your home, and he had to face it.

Warning: Minors DNI / A little smut / bj / Angst / Hydra Past / Missunderstandings / He wants to say I love you / This is getting dark as the WB logos in HP movies / Strugglings / He is so in love with you / Your past is coming back and kick your both asses

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson

Also: You don't have to read the previous chapters, but it would enhance the experience if you did. And thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️

Chapter 1: Insomnia | Chapter 2: Lucid | Chapter 3: Reverie

“God…!” Steve's head falls back, his body arching, knuckles turning white as he holds on tightly onto the sheets, moans ragged and labored, his chest rising and falling covered in sweat.

His hand tucking your hair, trying to be as gentle as possible, but he is finding that impossible. As you fasten your mouth and hand movements, more deep breaths are escaping his lips as waves of pleasure wash over him.

"Babe... that feels so good... don't stop... Please don't stop..."

Your quickened pace is driving him more and more over the edge, as suddenly his entire body lost in pleasure, his head falling back onto the pillow behind him, the sheets gripping tightly in his hands as he releases warm and low in your mouth.

“Jesus…” His body shuddering as he came hard, thoroughly quenched til the very last drop, his breath coming in gasps and pants, not being able to speak as he looks at you: puffy lips, disheveled hair, sweat drops in your perfect breasts, your silky skin marked with his handprints all over body, and you were wiping your lips.

“Damn...” He pulls you close for a kiss, still breathing heavily, as if trying to recover from his ecstasy. “Babe, don’t… look at me like that… or I’m gonna lose it... again.”

“Wait, what?” You laugh, stepping out of bed. “That’s on me?! I didn’t do anything this time.” You were barely awake when he started. It’s not like it’s your fault you weren’t wearing anything from last night.

“That’s... arguable.” Steve murmurs, sinking back into the pillows, still riding the high of the moment. His breathing starts to slow, but then he notices you’re already in the bathroom. “Wait, no cuddling?!”

“We’ve been ‘cuddling’ all night!” You call from the shower. “And... we’ve talked about this. Tony is gonna be here in an hour.” And I don’t want to smell like sex.

Steve chuckles in resignation, raising his voice so you can hear him over the water. “Can I join you?”

“We both know how that’s gonna end…”

“Yeah, yeah, alright...” he laughs, reluctantly pulling himself out of bed, grabs his discarded clothes, making a half-hearted attempt to tidy the room. “God, we made a mess in here, didn’t we?”

By the time you’re out of the shower, the room is already cleaned up (he's done his best). It’s a far cry from how things used to be: Steve's things are everywhere now. His toothbrush in your bathroom, clothes hanging in your closet, some files scattered on the desk in your lab that's across from your private dorm.

You’re not even sure when it happened, but your secluded, tucked away 20 minutes from the main Avengers compound lab, has become more than just yours. It makes sense, actually, he wasn’t leaving at night. Or in the mornings. Or... really, ever.

At first, Steve would come over for dates. Then those dates turned into 'I'll come by later' and eventually into 'whenever he had the chance.' Now his mug is in the sink, his slippers are under your bed, and his coat has claimed a permanent spot by the door.

He’s here. So, naturally, Sam and Natasha started coming by too.

They didn’t want to at first—especially after Tony warned them: Don’t go near the place if the windows are foggy or steamed. And the first time they showed up, the windows were, in fact, foggy.

So, they waited outside, feeding the mosquitoes and staring at the overgrown grass.

But they had important “For your eyes only” files, and waiting beat facing Commander Hill’s irritation later. After counting all the daisies in the field—twice—they finally gave in. Sam knocked (covering his eyes), you answered (fully dressed), and they came in for a cup of tea. A carrot cake later, they became regulars.

Your lab has a charm they can’t resist: plants hang from every corner, spilling over shelves and framing the windows that let in the golden sunlight. The warm, earthy scent of the greenery mixes with the subtle perfume from your humidifiers. A soft glow of the sunlight filters through, casting a golden hue over everything. The kitchen always smells like freshly baked cookies, and the tea is good, but the coffee is great.

Your space feels like a hidden sanctuary in the sunset. And amidst all this, there’s a relaxed and laughing, perfectly at home Steve. One that they’ve never seen before.

So of course, big boss Mr. Stark wasn’t going to be excluded.

“Remind me again why he’s coming?” Steve asked as he stepped into the shower. You were brushing your teeth, and he leaned over to kiss your shoulder, and…Yup, you were right; he knew exactly how things would’ve ended if he’d joined you earlier.

“I don’t know… there’s no meeting agenda. But technically, we are living in his compound, so…” you said, now brushing your hair and spritzing perfume. Then, after a pause, you added, “I think it has something to do with the New Era Project.”

Steve didn’t respond right away, but you caught the frown on his face through the steam of the shower. “Are you part of that?” he asked after a moment.

“Nope.” You began towel-drying your hair. “I don’t make or design weapons. I just fix your gear and armory and… sometimes I pitch cool new ideas to Tony during brainstorm sessions. You know, Level A clearance, remember?”

Steve chuckled—yeah, he remembered. You had access to all files and records, but only if Tony Stark himself granted it. Actually, he was the only one who could authorize your access and tokens. There were only two people in the entire organization with that kind of clearance: you and Peter Parker.

Your existence here was… special. Only level 3 and above tech personnel knew about you, and they practically worshiped you. You were the one who “optimized their code, fine-tuned algorithms that seemed impossible to crack, recalibrated testing protocols when simulations failed, and stepped in when machines were on the verge of catastrophic failure.” (That was Bruce’s wording. Steve didn't get shit of what he said, just referred to you as “my brilliant genius who fixes all that stuff.”) And the thing that stood out the most? You never took credit for the successes.

Selfless. That was the word Tony used when describing you. But he also said: “And that drives me nuts, because when you lack human ambition, what’s going to keep you around, right?”

Human ambition. The phrase echoed in Steve’s mind as he turned off the water with a sigh. He knew he had been avoiding the truth. Falling so hard for you that he didn’t want to face the reality. There was more to you than he fully understood, and deep down, he wasn’t sure he was ready to know the whole truth.

“I’ll make coffee,” you called from outside, interrupting his thoughts. “You staying for breakfast, or heading straight to training?”

“Yeah, I’ll stay for coffee,” he replied, wrapping a towel around himself and standing in front of the mirror.

There, staring back at him, was a man madly in love. But as much as he wanted to be only that—just a man in love—he wasn’t. There was still a world beyond your lab, and he had to face it.

He sighed again, suspecting exactly what Tony was going to discuss with you.

The coffee was ready, and croissants were on the table when Tony arrived. He greeted you with a cheek kiss and smirked at Steve, who was just walking out the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

“There’s a scene I thought I’d never see.” Tony quipped as you placed a mug in front of him. “Aren’t you late, Cap?”

“Aren’t you early?” Steve shot back from the room.

“Actually, I’m late. I hung out in the car for a bit.” Tony tilted his head toward the window, a mocking grin spreading across his face. “The windows were steamed up, so I…” he clicked his tongue, “didn’t want to interrupt.”

He turned to you, smiling. “This coffee’s great, hon. Any chance you’d consider making it a regular thing in the common room?”

“No. She wouldn’t,” Steve answered, now dressed in his training gear. He kissed you goodbye, shaking his head with a smirk. “Sorry babe, gotta go. Guess you were right, I am late.”

Tony shot him an I told you so look.

“Coffee.” you said, handing Steve a travel mug, then cupped his face with a smile. “Kiss.”

Inhaling your fresh perfume, Steve sighed, enchanted, as he leaned down to kiss you. “Thanks…” He held back the I love you that nearly escaped his lips.

“Get something to eat after training, okay?” you said casually, unaware of how close he was to confessing.

“Yes ma’am.” He gave you a lingering glance, clearly wanting another kiss—or a few—before turning to Tony. “Easy, ok?” he warned.

“You hear that, hon? Easy on me,” Tony said with a grin, raising his mug to wave Steve off. “See you later, Cap.”

As the door closed behind Steve, Tony looked at you, “You know… that’s the best I’ve seen him in years.” He mused, his fingers tracing the rim of his mug.

Then, after a brief pause, with a playful smile. “And the best I’ve seen of you, of course.”

You smiled back. “It’s not like you’ve been around much to see me anyway.” You patted his hand.

“Not that I’m complaining. You’ve given me all the quiet and peace I could ever ask for.” You glanced down at the table with a soft smile. “And purpose.”

Tony stayed silent as the golden morning light filtered through the windows, casting lines of warmth and shadow across the table.

“Did you… tell him?” he asked, hesitating just as the light reached his mug.

“No. I, um…” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m scared.”

“God,” he sighed in resignation. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. And…” he shook his head, rolling his eyes, “I think his problem will eventually be, ‘Why didn’t you come sooner?’”

He huffed. “It’s your call, but trust me—he always wants to know the truth, no matter how hard it might be.”

“I know. It’s just…” You admitted quietly, “I’m scared of him being… disappointed.”

“Then he can fuck off,” Tony shot back without hesitation, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “And die alone on his moral highlands.”

You laughed. Tony always knew how to make you laugh. After a few moments, you softened and asked, “What’s wrong, Tony? What’s really troubling you?”

“You mean besides the fact that one of my top-secret employees, whom I’ve kept hidden from everyone’s sight for years, is actually dating… I mean, no, we’re way past dating, right? I’d say… in a relationship with one of the most famous men in the world, who’s also the high commander of this… you know, little group of heroes that saves the universe from time to time? Yeah, there’s actually one tiny, tiny thing that keeps me awake at night…”

You sipped your coffee, still smiling. “What?”

“I’m having second thoughts about the New Era Project.”

You raised your eyebrows, and asked after some pause. “Do you want me to join?” Because you would, if he asked.

“No.” He was firm. “No, it’s not that. I’d never ask you to do that. It’s just… I’m having trouble piecing everything together. I don’t have the full picture. ” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“The UN have been a pain in my ass since I flew out in a can suit in Afghanistan, but now… they’re... They’re being… nice.”

“And that’s a bad thing.” You raised an eyebrow, not sure whether you were asking or confirming.

“It’s incredibly dangerous and extremely suspicious.”

“I thought our little demonstration of power during Thanos would’ve made everyone play nice,” you said, grimacing as if to say, Duh.

“They even offered to cancel the Sokovian Accords.”

“Wait, what?” You blinked, surprised. “Is that even still a thing? I thought after the Blip…”

“Nobody had the time or the mood to talk about that during the Snap, so it just stayed there.” Tony explained, handing you his mug as you stood up to refill it.

“Well, that’s a generous offer,” you said, pouring more coffee. “But as you said…”

You paused, thinking for a moment.

“If rationality and facts can’t give you the full picture, maybe intuition will.” You sat back down, placing the mug in front of Tony. “What does your gut tell you? Animal instincts in the face of danger are 99% accurate, you know.”

Tony’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. “I don’t know. That’s what’s keeping me up at night. We’ve faced big threats before, but this... this feels different. Like they’re not reacting to a threat, but preparing for one.”

“Patience.” you murmured.

“Say what?” Tony hadn’t caught it.

“The Art of War,” you recalled. “‘He who is prudent and lies in wait for an enemy who is not, will be victorious.’” You nodded. “So if the picture isn’t clear, you wait for them to make the first move.”

That look crossed Tony’s face—the one he wore when you or Bruce finished a thought before him, or when you completed a task well before the deadline with an unexpected approach. The “finally, someone speaking my language” look.

“They’ve already made the first move, haven’t they?” you observed him closely.

Tony sat up, a slight smile of pride tugging at his lips. “Yes. They’re sending someone to… cooperate.”

“So… how do I fit into all this?” you asked quietly. “Strategies of war, deciphering enemy intentions, gathering intel, hacking systems… you’ve got quite a team for that. The Team. How can I help?”

Tony sighed, leaning back in his chair as the sunlight shifted, casting shadows across the room. He paused, staring out the window before turning back to you, something close to worry in his eyes for the first time.

“You fit in because you’re one of the few people I trust to see things clearly. No agenda. No ego. You can do things quietly, behind the scenes. And, frankly, you’re smarter than half the people working on this project…” He hesitated and added with a smirk, “...or the entire compound.”

After a brief pause, Tony confessed in a giving up tone.

“And because I need your superpowers to sense if this guy is hiding something—something that our metal detectors and scanners can’t catch. These days, I don’t even trust that the people we meet are… well, human. Thanks to Danvers.”

Just like at the opening ceremony, he needed you to assess if there was anything suspicious about the people present. You nodded in understanding.

“Who are they sending?”

There were two files in front of him, both giving him the same headache. And Steve didn’t wanted to start with either of them.

One was yours: HE0012, “Twelve.” Your code name—Hydra Experiment Number Twelve—and your real name, (If Twelve could even considered a name, but that was they’d given to you) both stamped on a complete profile folder of your classified information: layers upon layers of secrecy wrapped around your past, barely considered something near light reading.

The second file, labeled “FYEO - New Era Project” was a brick of a report, hundreds of pages long, more of a book than a document. It detailed, in excruciating pain-ass precision, the project's goal: a forced reconciliation between the Avengers and Stark Industries. The initiative was meant to foster collaborative research and development of cutting-edge technologies designed to bolster global defense systems.

Officially, the report framed it as ensuring global protection “in case of need,” but Steve knew the truth beneath the diplomatic phrasing. It was about weapons—gear, tools, anything needed to combat the next alien invasion, or any kind of catastrophic threat Earth might face.

Steve remembered Tony’s struggle with this report, how the stress weighed on him. Tony had been stuck between igniting another Civil War or throwing the damn thing in the nearest firepit.

But seems now, that Tony had done what Tony does best: handed the problem to Steve.

Damn it, Tony.

“Captain.” Jarvis’s polite voice sounded through the nearest screen. “A guest has just entered the main building. Agent Charles Frazer from the New Era Special Committee has been announced.”

Steve sighed, shoving both files aside. He couldn’t even catch a break. “Background?” He asked as he glanced at the screen, pulling up Frazer’s information.

“Agent Frazer is currently serving with the UN Special Commission, previously tasked with supervising enhanced human activities under the Sokovian Accords. Before that, he was a top agent at MI6.” Jarvis relayed in his usual, steady tone.

“Great. I’ll meet him in the lobby. Where’s Tony?”

“Sir is en route from R&D 001 and will arrive in three and a half minutes. Agent Frazer is already in the lobby, Captain.”

“Fine.” Steve muttered, standing up. “Also ask Commander Hill to meet us there.”

From the second-floor glass railing, Steve looked down and spotted Frazer standing in the waiting area. The man was definitely an agent, but his military background was obvious in the way he stood—rigid, alert, scanning the room, it all pointed to someone used to being on guard, despite his polite, diplomatic smile and the small nods he gave to passing staff.

After a moment of observation, Steve made his way downstairs before Frazer could notice he was being watched.

“Agent.” Steve greeted, extending a firm hand.

“Captain.” Charles Frazer responded with a wide, courteous smile. One that appeared genuine but not intrusive. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Steve was about to continue when Tony, Bruce, and you entered the room, caught up in a heated conversation.

“…so wait, are you telling me the material adapted in real-time? Enhanced its resistance with every applied force threshold—like it learned from the stress points?” Bruce’s voice was filled with astonished excitement.

“Yeah, we saw a 32% increase in tensile strength under standard shear stress.” You replied softly, barely looking up from your coffee mug.

“What about quantum resonance feedback?” Tony waved a hand, pressing for more details. “Is it boosting absorption capabilities?”

“It’s actually forming a self-reinforcing lattice that distributes the force across the entire molecular framework, but…” You trailed off as you noticed Steve. A soft smile lit up your face, your eyes brightening upon seeing him.

Steve, for a split second, returned the smile but quickly recovered his professional demeanor. “Dr. Lancaster,” he greeted you, then nodded to the others. “Tony, Bruce—this is Agent…”

A loud crash cut him off.

Steve whipped around to see you standing there, your face as pale as your lab coat. Your mug lay shattered on the floor, coffee splattered across your clothes, but you didn’t seem to notice. Your gaze was locked on Agent Frazer’s face, your breath frozen, your body completely still.

“…Four?” The word barely escaped your lips, a whisper under the weight of everyone’s surprise.

Agent Frazer’s reaction was almost identical.

His confident smile vanished in an instant—from confusion, to shock, and then to an almost frozen state mirroring yours, his eyes reflected the same haunting familiarity. It wasn’t just shock; it was a mix of fear, disbelief, and perhaps even something darker—like a flood of old memories being unlocked all at once.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, staring at each other in stunned silence. Slowly, Frazer’s gaze locked onto yours, and recognition began to settle over his face. He slowly lifted a trembling hand toward your chin, his voice cracking as he murmured, “Twelve?”

“How…?”

“Let’s take this to a more private room.” Tony, ever the first to break the silence, said firmly even before you could go on. His eyes weren’t on you—they were glued to Steve, gauging his reaction.

Steve stood rigid, his jaw was set, his face unreadable as he observed the silent exchange between you and Frazer.

“Yes, let’s do that.” Steve said, his voice firm but soft. A few people in the background had started to notice the unusual scene unfolding and were beginning to glance your way. So it was to act quickly. He stepped closer to you, a part of him instinctively wanting to put a hand on your shoulder, or hold your hand to offer some comfort in the midst of the shock, but he hesitated. His hand hovered for a second before he drew it back.

As the group moved to a quieter, more secluded room, the air was thick with unspoken questions, and no one dared to break the fragile silence. All eyes were on you and Agent Frazer, as though the past had suddenly come crashing into the present, and no one was sure how to navigate the ruins.

You met with Commander Hill in the middle of the hallway. She quickly noted the tension in the unusual group, scanning Agent Frazer as fast as she could with her x-ray inspection mode and cautious glare.

“Is… everything okay?” She instantly reacted, reading the room. “Meeting 9 is available.” She looked at Steve and Tony and communicated in their own silent way: And it’s ready.

Ready meant that the room could provide total privacy while also functioning as the most advanced interrogation room. Everything would be recorded, with real-time facial expression analysis by Friday or Jarvis. The room’s ambiance would shift according to participants' moods, creating the most relaxing and comforting environment possible, encouraging the participants to say anything and everything that needed to be known.

But of course, you didn’t know that, and neither did Agent Frazer— or Four. You hadn’t yet recovered from the shock, so you barely heard Tony when he said, “We’ll just leave you to it,” or noticed the worried look Steve had given you. You didn’t look back; your eyes remained locked on Four’s.

“How…” You broke the silence after a long pause, sensing that both your breaths had softened. You began to regain some rationality and composure. “How did you escape? I… I thought you were dead…”

Four closed his eyes for a moment, trying to stay as calm as possible.

He didn’t know where to start with.

“I was…”

He didn’t look at you; his gaze was fixed on the floor, lost in some distant moment from the past.

“The cryostasis pod that held me…malfunctioned, but instead of shutting down, it went into some sort of low-energy survival mode—almost like it was trying to protect me. Left me hanging on the edge of life, just the basics kept intact.”

His accent was you remembered, a perfect blend of British and Russian, a strange yet polished combination of both. He talked as in Times New Roman.

“I reckon I stayed that way for years… like being stuck in some frozen limbo. Like wandering in some desert between hell and heaven.”

Four’s lips curled into a fragile, ironic smile: “That Hydra fortress in Caithness was too well-hidden. I’d have gone unnoticed until I wasted away, but when Hydra fell, every strategic spot on the globe became suspicious. British intel ran sweeps over the area… and they found me.”

You remained silent, memories flashing through your mind. You knew why the cryostasis pod had malfunctioned in the first place.

After the Battle of New York, the remaining Hydra forces had started shutting down their less critical underground fortresses. Caithness, where Four was held, had probably been vital during the war, but your files were far too confidential, buried too deep to be easily retrieved. That place must have been overlooked as obsolete.

Then came the Battle in Washington, when Steve crushed Hydra for good, and Black Widow exposed Hydra’s files, Caithness would have landed on British radar.

The world had been holding its breath, watching the Avengers’ actions since New York.

It wouldn’t surprise you if British intelligence wanted to keep Four for their own research—a super soldier hidden, repaired, filled with selective truths, and molded into a loyal agent. Their own secret Avenger, integrated into their best special forces.

“They kept your memory?” you asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.

“Bits of it.” Four replied, offering a smile, sensing your concern. He wanted to ease the pain of what he’d gone through during his rebirth. “Britain’s tech wasn’t as advanced as Hydra’s.”

He glanced around and sighed. “And they were definitely far away from… this. They didn’t push it too far, just in case it might… break me and ruin everything.”

“Do you remember… everything?” you asked, finally looking into his eyes.

“Not everything. Just pieces, fragments. Sometimes I get flashbacks in my dreams…” Four’s eyes softened as he looked at you, a faint smile touching his lips, his voice tender with nostalgia.

“You were a brilliant tree climber... I remember that odd old oak tree deep in the forest. Grand and ancient. You’d scramble up to the top branches and shake them until the leaves fell, making a pile on the ground. Then Five and Seven would dash over and dive in, like a pair of foxes.”

“And once, you hid a rock under the leaves, and Seven jumped right onto it…” You were lost in the memory too.

“He hit it so hard…” Four chuckled, his gaze drifting to that long-lost time.

“We did everything to stop the bleeding before heading back, but he looked like…”

“A smashed tomato can.” You both said at the same time. And then you both laughed.

“I was grounded, of course. Bloody big time.” Four leaned back in his chair. “Six days of detention because, naturally, our blood was ‘precious,’ and Seven’s was everywhere. They had to clean up so thoroughly, it was like they burned the place down.”

“And you came by on the fifth night…” Four’s went gentle, as if telling a bedtime story. “You snuck in and gave me a piece of bread. And a golden leaf.”

He reached out and took your hand, squeezing it tight.

“I’m so glad to see you, little sister.” His voice was filled with pain.

“When I woke up… I thought I was alone in this world.”

“Me too.” You whispered, though your eyes were elsewhere, lost in the shadows of the past.

“Me too…”

Steve could feel his teeth clenching. He tried desperately to release the pressure building in his fists, but the anger was overwhelming.

He suddenly understood why he hadn’t been able to even open your file before—it was fear. He didn’t want to feel this powerless, like he does now, knowing there was nothing he could do to change what you’d been through.

Tony might have made a joke, something like, “Well, at least he’s only her brother.” but Steve could sense the tension in his voice.

“This is so…” Fucked up. Sam stood beside Steve, watching closely. “Any lie detected?”

“Facial analysis shows 99% veracity. The 1% is due to human factors beyond my calculations.” Friday’s voice echoed through the room.

“If the story’s true, it’s not impossible,” Natasha chimed in, raising an eyebrow. “When the files went public, someone must have taken action.”

“It just smells like there’s a cat hidden in the closet, y’all know?” Sam muttered, arms crossed, shaking his head. “Like, really? Now? The agent overseeing all this Sokovia Accords 2.0 stuff just so happens to be ex-Hydra, ex-experiment, and he shows up now? Like literally walking right to her. Now? When she’s…” He gestured pointedly. “With Steve? Why not before?”

“Maybe he was gone during the Blip?” Natasha suggested. “Look, I’m just trying to figure this out. Not saying the guy’s a saint, but…”

She glanced at Steve, who had turned into some kind of statue, staring at the screen, trying to read your every move, every reaction.

“We do have ex-Hydras doing just fine…” Bucky is one. You are one. Natasha didn’t say it, but it hung in the air, unspoken yet clear.

“Alright, first things first.” Maria stepped in, standing next to Steve. “What do we do with this guy? He’s still carrying the UN Special title, and…” She pulled up his file. “One thing’s for sure—his records are impeccable. At least on paper.”

Steve didn’t respond. His eyes remained fixed on the screen, where you were holding hands with Four. It wasn’t romantic, he could tell. You were pressing his hand, patting his back. You looked relaxed. The painful part of remembering was over, and now you were chatting about his life after MI6 gave him a new identity.

And you were smiling. You tilted your head slightly, something you always did when listening intently.

“Tony.” Steve suddenly spoke up, his voice low but steady. “Why are you so quiet?”

Steve hadn’t raised his voice, but the room instantly turned to Iron Man.

“Maybe I have nothing to say.”

“Or maybe it’s because I don’t want to know the answer.” Steve shot back, his tone sharper now. He didn’t say it aloud, but Tony knew. He knew exactly why Steve was looking at him like that.

But as always, Tony didn’t flinch under Steve’s scrutinizing glare, nor did he step back.

“I think Dr. Lancaster is just the perfect person for this job.” Tony said, quietly but with precision, locking eyes with Steve.

“Fuck! Tony!” Steve’s fists slammed down on the desk so hard that everything on it bounced. “She’s out of the New Era Project.” he said, gritting his teeth.

“She’s Level A.” Tony stepped closer, meeting Steve’s gaze up close.

“And she happens to be top of R&D. Yes, I asked her to be here this morning, to check on this guy… just like she’s been doing since day one when she entered this compound.”

“So yeah, she can show him around, talk about super-intelligent things that normal people won’t understand, as long as it fits within the clearance I’ve given her. It’s not like I’m ordering her to do anything.”

Tony leaned in even closer to Steve’s face. “You can stay and hang out if you want. But seriously… and this is me being brutally honest, like you’ve always wanted.” His voice was calm, firm, unwavering.

“Did you really think you could keep her out of this? Out of your life? Our life?”

He opened his arms slightly, giving Steve a knowing look. “Stop acting as your decisions are better than hers, Steve. She knew exactly what she was signing up for.”

“I’m honored, but my pressure it’s on its peaks.” Four muttered, walking beside you down the long aisle that led from “Sustainable Technologies & Environmental Innovation” to the “Space Exploration & Interstellar Travel Engineering” hall.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you caught the reflection in the sleek glass walls: a serious, determined, and ‘touch my girl by a hair and I’ll kill the fuck out of you’ Steve, and a ‘I have so much more important and real shit to deal with right now than this’ face Maria walking behind you.

“I mean I’m just a public employee. I expected both high commanders to receive me, but not to walk us all the way.” Four teased: “Remember when we had to escort the king during the war?”

“I thought that was the proudest day of your life.”

“It was, until this.” Four laughed, letting out a long, amused sigh after a pause. Then, more sincerely, “But you should be proud too, Twelve. Look at what you’ve accomplished.”

Four’s gaze lifted, drawn to the towering structures and intricate technology around him—robotics designed to repair spacecraft mid-flight, drones engineered for planetary terraforming. His eyes followed the sleek contours of prototype exosuits encased behind glass, shimmering with the pulse of energy cores yet to be tested.

Even with all the cutting-edge tech he’d seen around the world, he couldn’t help but admire the scale of innovation unfolding here—the flawless precision, the harmony between form and function, and the dedication and sense of unity the folks around here were putting on their work.

“Everything here... it’s like stepping into the future.” he said, his voice carrying a rare note of awe. “Back in the day, we only dreamt of machines like this. Now it’s real. I can feel the intelligence in the air, the potential of what this place can do.”

He paused in front of an android prototype, its sensors lighting up as though acknowledging his presence.

“This is what happens when visionaries are free to play with the impossible. And you are part of it. You should be proud. It’s the realization of everything we once hoped for. ”

Steve and Maria exchanged a glance at his words, and Steve’s gaze immediately shifted to you. He was desperate for you to turn, to look at him the way you always did—like you understood him without a single word needing to be spoken. But since the moment you walked out of Room 9 with Four, your gaze hadn’t found his. Not once.

You stayed silent upon your brother’s words. Your gaze was still, serene, and silent. There was no emotion beyond that on your face. Your eyes rested lightly on Four's expressions, then moved softly to the equipment he was examining. You were as still as a pond on a windless day. And your eyes…Steve could always interpret the emotions they held, if you offered him a glimpse, but you never did.

“Is it?” you murmured, emotionless. Neither Four nor Maria caught it, but Steve did. And it sent a cold shiver down his spine.

He watched you, hoping—no, needing—you to turn around, to meet his eyes with the same openness you always had. He knew you could feel his gaze, feel his desperate hope that you would just look at him. But you didn’t. You kept walking a few steps behind Four, and the space between you and Steve grew wider with every step.

He wanted to call your name, to pull you aside, to ask if you were okay, if this was too much for you. But something held him back. What if you didn’t respond the way he hoped? What if Four’s presence here was dragging you back into the person you were before? What if you weren’t the person he had fallen so deeply in love with? And what if… what if you didn’t love him back the way he loved you? Or worse, what if you were still exactly what Hydra wanted you to be?

What if…this is the real you?

Steve’s heart was at war with itself. He had fought through battles where the stakes were higher than anything he could imagine here, but the battlefield of emotions felt far more treacherous. His love for you was the one thing he held onto with unyielding certainty—something unshakable. But now, he felt it flickering, like a candle fighting to stay lit in a growing storm.

Every time he looked at you, searching for a sign that you still belonged to him in the way he believed you did, it felt like reaching out for something just beyond his grasp.

It wasn’t the distance you kept from him physically that hurt the most. It was the emotional wall—thick, invisible, but undeniably there. His rationale, the part of him that always tried to be fair, tried to stay calm, told him not to jump to conclusions, not to doubt you. But the love-struck, emotional side of him—the part that saw you as his everything—was falling down into the vast uncertain sea of fear.

Four’s voice pulled him back from his thoughts, he was talking in low, but Steve overheard anyway.

“What are you really working on?” He was genuinely curious: “I’ve always known you were the best of us in intelligence but…this is…” he said in an obvious ‘wow’: “Mr. Stark said that you are on top of R&D, and you are also guiding the way, so I bet it is something…dramatic.”

“I can show you my workspace.” You smirk quietly, your voice a little bit proud, as a sibling that wanted to show off her new toys: “It’s not…dramatic. At least not complicated for you to read.”

“I…” Steve spoke up at the same time he frowned, but held back on calling out your name: “Dr. Lancaster. I don’t think…”

“We’ll be fine, Captain.” You interrupted him, but he could only see your back when you answered, still not looking back for a second: “I’ve got the clearance, no worries.” You said as you walked straight forward without hesitation.

Of course, you weren't leading Four to your lab—your home with Steve, your recluse sanctuary out of the compounds. That would’ve been too much. Even for Steve, it would’ve crossed a line he couldn’t forgive, and you weren’t a monster, like, duh.

Instead, you led Four toward your personal workspace. Or how Tony liked to call it: "the genius playroom", where cutting-edge tech, half-finished projects, and too many abandoned coffee mugs cluttered the surfaces—remnants of late-night brainstorming sessions with him and Bruce.

The room was chaotic brilliance in its purest form. Holographic models of Stark tech hovered in the air like suspended thoughts, caught in an endless cycle of innovation. Transparent screens flashed data faster than any normal person could process: only a select few could follow the constant stream of figures and projections (Three, actually, if Wakandian minds, or Dr. Cho weren't around). Half-assembled drones and sleek energy cores, still pulsating with untapped potential, were scattered around workbenches. Tony’s famous bean bag chairs—“sometimes the ass needs to think before the brain catches up”—occupied one corner, breaking the space's otherwise high-tech aesthetic.

The room was alive with invention, buzzing with the frenetic energy of genius minds always in motion. It was your playground, your escape, and the damn Thursday’s night that you couldn’t make it home and Steve's always resent.

“Bloody hell...” Four’s voice broke through the hum of machinery as he stepped into the room. His eyes widened, slowly sweeping across the multitude of inventions and half-finished designs.

"This is... whoa...little sister, you did find your spot in the world, didn't you?" he muttered, genuine awe in his voice.

You watched him, standing close enough to catch every flicker of his gaze, how his eyes darted from one holographic projection to the next, lingering just a bit too long. As if he was, scanning.

"Well, welcome to The Crib." You said with a casual shrug, already moving toward one of the many touchscreens embedded into the workbenches. You tapped a few commands, and the room sprang to life. Holographic blueprints of your latest projects filled the space between you and Four.

"Where the magic is born. Core of the Avengers and Stark Industries inventions, we usually break a lot of rules here...and stuff, too."

Behind you, Steve and Maria stepped into the room, but your focus remained on the task at hand. Your heart began racing so fast it was going out of your chest, but you pushed it aside. You had work to do.

And a sense of unease gnawed at Steve, making his hair stand on end and his senses become hyper-alert. There was something wrong. Really wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but a chill crawled up his spine, making his muscles tense.

He exchanged a glance with Maria—she felt it too. The air was too thick, too still. He could hear your heart beating, too fast, too loud.

You kept moving, subtly positioning yourself near the wall, your body shielding a button—one Steve hadn’t noticed before.

“Four?” Your voice was soft and casual. You were watching him carefully, studying his reactions like you were dissecting his every move.

“Mhm?” He didn’t look back, his attention still locked on the blueprints projected across the room, soaking up every detail.

“When did you say we escorted the king?” You leaned against the wall, arms crossed, your position relaxed, but gaze distant. “Was it at the beginning of the war? Or when it was almost over?”

“Beginning. Why?” Four turned to face you, a smile still hanging on his lips. “Why do you ask?”

“Because we were Hydra back then.” You said, voice level but resolute. “We didn’t escort people. Not the alliance, at least.”

Four’s smile faltered. It froze on his face.

“Who are you?” Your voice remained calm, but there was a razor edge beneath the surface. “And why are you pretending to be my brother?”

"Shit!" Maria immediately pulled out her gun, aiming straight at Four—no, Agent Frazer's—head, her finger tight on the trigger.

Steve stayed still, fists clenched, eyes rapidly calculating every option in the room: the exits, the distance between you and Four, and how fast he could get to either of you. In a matter of seconds, hundreds of plans flashed through his mind, each one detailing how things could go down.

Four's face remained calm, but the shift in his eyes betrayed him. The mask of the amiable older brother slipped, revealing the cold, calculating operative underneath—the same one who had greeted Captain America this morning: the perfect spy, shifting personas like a chameleon, adapting to every situation.

A slow, smug smile curled across his lips, replacing the affectionate facade he wore seconds ago.

"How did you know?" he asked, tilting his head, examining you. He seemed almost impressed by your unflinching calm, as if you'd been expecting this all along.

"'It's the realization of everything we once hoped for.'" Your gaze was unwavering, your tone even as you repeated his earlier words.

"What?"

You lowered your eyelids, the weight of old memories seeping into your voice, barely a whisper.

"You’ve said that this tech, this…unrealistic world leadered by heroes, is something that we hoped for… is not."

You didn’t know whom you were talking to, to Four, to Steve, or to yourself.

“We were kids. Trapped in a cage. We never hoped for any of this.” You paused: “My brother and sisters died before I was even grown up. And they didn’t dream big. We didn't have the chance or dared to do so.”

Steve's heart clenched. He had sensed this, but hearing you say it still hit harder than expected.

"You knew?" Four's tone shifted, darker, more dangerous. His eyes gleamed like a predator closing in on its prey. "From the beginning?"

"Easy, Frazer." Maria warned, her aim steady. "You even blink, and I'll put a bullet in your pretty forehead."

"Of course I knew…" you said calmly. "And I know you're wearing a retinal lens—a live-streaming neural interface that captures everything you see, using nanotransceivers to broadcast it live via ultra-broadband frequencies to a secure hub."

Steve's mind clicked into place. You had the ability to see the composition of materials in everything around you. It was why Tony often had you blend in with the crowd, to detect anything out of place or hidden in plain sight.

"Then you know it's too late." Four's grin widened, a victorious glint in his eyes. "I've already got everything I need, little sister."

"Do you?" You smiled—a smile Steve knew all too well, the one that meant you were about to love what happened next.

You snapped your fingers.

"Revelio."

The world around you shimmered, peeling away like burning paper. The high-tech lab setup dissolved, revealing a The Crib instead, but it didn’t have all the advanced technology drafts as it was shown to Four. It was a clean, organized, fancy lab, not revealing anything confidential, it looked brand new..

"Binary Augmented Retro-Framing. Or BARF." you said, almost sighing. "It's on the market. The records are public. Tony loves to play with it."

"You think you're so smart." Frazer sneered, a cruel twist to his lips. "Or good. You think joining these superheroes will erase what you are? What you really are? You're nothing but a monstrous experiment."

"You're right." Your expression didn’t falter, not even a twitch. "My brothers and sisters were better." You continued watching him, calm as ever. "But you didn’t come all this way just for some tech demo, did you?"

"No." Frazer's smirk returned, sharper than before. "I came to confirm something, and I did. But there’s one last thing I wanted to check, just in case."

Steve's instincts kicked in, but he knew it was already too late.

Frazer locked eyes with you, and his voice dropped, firm and deliberate:

"Мечта."

End

Continue to:

5: Awakening |

6: Dusk |

7: Hypnagogia |

8: Lull |

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Divider Credits: to the wonderful @cafekitsune

Woohooo...damn!! OMG thank you for reading thus far! Hope you really enjoyed it like I did writing it, it was a rollercoaster of emotions, tho.

Next chapter is finished already so I'll see you on next Friday! And I couldn't help myself on the "Revelio" part, I just had to give that dramatic line, if there were background music asin the movies, that's when it comes to play XD

Alright, let me know what do you think! (Also if you thought this was intense then next chapter is worse...xD)

Love.,

Moon.

Shoot, I completely forgot, but it was mentioned by the brilliant @steviebbboi & @jamneuromain that I should have a taglist? So mentioning here, will edit when I have it ready ❤️

#captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers smut #original character #this is a very long chapter

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bitchesuntitled · 6 months ago

Text

Some Broken Hearts Never Mend

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!actress reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of drugs, pregnancy, lovers to enemies, angst angst angst

A/N: Huge thank you to @noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal for helping me with this! ❤️ I don’t usually do angst but trying to play around with it and I needed the practice. This is for @tightjeansjavi's June Writing Challenge. Also tagging @jay-zzle because she is my permanent cheerleader

Masterlist||AO3

divider by: @saradika-graphics

The lights are flashing everywhere, hearing your name and Dieter’s being shouted left and right. Where to look, what to do, you love sharing this moment with him, watching his smile beam as the congratulations are being shouted out.

“I can’t believe this is real,” Dieter whispers in your ear with a smile, rubbing the bump of your belly.

Paparazzi is shouting out excitedly, seeing you two together along with your prominent bump on display. You both kept this news under wraps until you couldn’t hide it anymore. It’s too hot in the summer to try wearing the oversized hoodies you’d been wearing all spring. It was decided between both of your teams that the best thing for an announcement was to show up to Dieter’s premier with a dress that would show off your bump, letting the world know that Dieter Bravo was about to take on the most important role of his life - a family man.

“Dieter! Dieter over here!” You see Adam from Entertainment Tonight waving you both down.

You nudge Dieter, motioning towards the host, and make your way over for the first interview of the night.

“Hey guys! I’m just so excited to see you two! Wow,” Adam says your name, “You look absolutely glowing. Is there maybe a reason why?” he teases.

“Well, I don’t know,” you laugh, shrugging your shoulders, “Babe?”

“Hmm…” Dieter says, rubbing your bump, “I think because you’re having my baby?”

“I can’t believe it! First, you get this man sober, and now,” Adam says with an amusing smirk, “You’ve gotten him to have a baby with you?”

“She’s a witch!” Dieter exclaims with a massive grin, “I swear. She put me under some sort of spell!”

The interview went on for a little longer, delving into Dieter’s role and how he prepared for the movie. Interview after interview, the baby was brought up.

What are you hoping for? Boy or girl? Healthy.

Have you thought of any names? Yes, but not sure yet.

Do you know what the sex is? We want it to be a surprise.

The same questions were asked repeatedly until it was time to go inside the theater.

—

“Hey babe, I’m gonna be going out, hanging with some friends,” Dieter says, waltzing into the living room with his phone and keys. You pause the TV, scooting to the edge of the couch. “You don’t need to get up.”

“What friends?” You ask concern etched on your face. It always makes you nervous when he is going to hang out with friends solo. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Dieter, it was just that he’s had his fair share of relapses.

“Sam, Claudia, and Percy.”

You make a disgusted face as soon as Percy’s name is mentioned. Sam and Claudia, you trust. Percy, you do not.

“Babe,” Dieter starts, “I know you don’t like the guy but he just got out of rehab. No drugs will be around, everything will be just fine!”

“He just got out of rehab that was court-mandated, Dieter,” you seeth, “You really think he took that shit seriously?!”

“Baby,” Dieter sighs, placing a hand on your stomach, “You gotta watch your blood pressure. Not good for Peanut.”

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

This has become your mantra lately, the doctor was getting worried about your blood pressure and stress levels. He had said that it could cause early labor. Six months along, and you needed to start paying more attention to this stuff. The last thing you want is for Peanut to come before they’re ready.

“I just don’t trust him,” you explain, “The last time you hung out with him you relapsed and went down a rabbit hole.”

“I know,” he said, head dropping, “I’m sorry. I really am, but I promise it won’t happen again. There’s not supposed to be any hard drugs, maybe some weed but that’s it.”

“Fine,” you groan, “I mean it though Dieter, you can’t have any more slip ups. Gotta think about Peanut.”

“I’m always thinking about you and Peanut,” Dieter grins, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. “I’ll behave and be home before ten.”

Dieter wasn’t home before ten, or eleven, or twelve. It was nearing two in the morning when you finally heard the front door open. Sliding your feet into your slippers and grabbing his tattered green robe to wrap yourself in, you made your way to the living room.

“Fuck,” you hear Dieter say sniffling, “What the fuck did I do?”

“Babe?” You ask, coming into the living room, Dieter slumped on the couch, “Everything okay?”

“I fucked up,” he whispers, pushing his hands against his eyes, “I promised yo-,” he chokes on a sob, “I promised you I wouldn’t and I fucked up.”

“Dieter,” you sigh, approaching the couch to sit next to him, “Look at me.”

He shakes his head, looking down at his lap, fingers twitching against his face. He looks so helpless like this. You grab his hands, and pull them into your lap.

“Babe,” you try again, “Look at me,” reaching your hand to cup his cheek, forcing him to look at you. Watery bloodshot eyes stare back at you.

“I’m so sorry,” Dieter whispers, closing his eyes, a lone tear running down his cheek, “I should’ve listened to you.”

He tells you what happened. You nod in understanding, this was just a slip-up, you can forgive him yet again. You know it was just a bad judgment call to go out tonight. He will get through this just like he has every other time.

—

“Looks like you’re doing well, baby is right on track and appears to be growing as they should,” the doctor says, looking at your chart, “Only about two more months to go and then we can start looking to induce you. I want to see you in two weeks.”

You give a small smile and nod, rubbing your bump, slinging your purse over your shoulder, willing the phone inside to buzz as you make your way to the receptionist’s desk, making small talk with her and getting your next appointment set. You thank her as you take the appointment card, sliding it into your purse as you walk out the door.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

Dieter’s been missing, three weeks to the day now, and no one can find him. His management team and assistant have been on a hunt trying to find him but of course, Dieter has gone off the grid. Last you knew paparazzi had gotten pictures of him somewhere in Europe, but that was last week. His PR team and your own told you not to look at the pictures but you couldn’t not see them when a pregnancy craving hit and you got ice cream late one night.

Dieter Bravo, Trouble in Paradise?

Sources close to the actor state he’s not ready to be a father and ran from his relationship to [redacted], fellow actress who is pregnant with Bravo’s first child.

The small article included pictures of Dieter exiting a club with one arm around a blonde woman’s shoulders and the other arm around a brunette man’s waist. The three of them were walking down the sidewalk. The final pictures in the article showed Dieter kissing both of them.

Stars has tried to reach out to each of the couple’s publicists for comment with no response at this time.

You felt your heart breaking in the middle of the checkout line. He was the one to bring up having a baby. He was the one to convince you to get pregnant. He was the one who time and time again reassured you this is what he wanted and only wanted it with you.

You felt so stupid, like a poor pathetic girl, when everyone had warned you about him. They’d all told you so many times. Dieter Bravo is a mess. Dieter Bravo can’t be tamed. Dieter Bravo isn’t meant for relationships. As it turns out, they were all right, and you’d just ignored every warning given to you.. Dieter had kept using after the last slip-up. What was an accident became once a week, then three times a week, and then turned to daily use. Slowly but surely you were giving up, giving up on the one person who you trusted the most.

He made you feel loved, cherished, and special. He always made you feel like no one else could compare to you or your love for each other. Now though, he makes you feel like a fool. He makes you feel like the dirt underneath his shoes. He makes you feel like… like, like—

Your thoughts are interrupted by the buzzing in your purse. The number wasn’t one you recognize but you answered anyway in hopes it was Dieter.

“Hello?”

“Baby,” Dieter’s voice sounds through the phone, “I wanna come home.”

“Dieter?” you ask, “Where are you?”

“I’m at an airport in Paris,” he says sniffling, “I wanna come home.”

“Come home, please,” you beg, “Just come home.”

—

Dieter came home the following day, detox in full swing. He was shaky, sweaty, and puking, and you were staying by his side the entire time. Doubt begins to crawl into your brain, this being the fourth or fifth time you’ve helped him through detox. Is this going to be how your life plays out? Private doctors, in and out of your home like a revolving door. Make sure he’s comfortable, providing you with the necessary instructions to get Dieter through this so he doesn’t have to go to a facility again.

“I think he should consider going to rehab again,” Mark, his manager, says.

“Mark, I don’t know what else to do,” you sigh, shaking your head back and forth. “He doesn’t want to go. He told me every single hiding spot he has here at home and I went through all of them and flushed everything.”

“Just think about it, think about your baby and your own health,” Mark says firmly, “I’ve worked for Dieter for many years and this isn’t going to be the last time this happens.”

“I know,” you whisper, tears threatening to spill over, accepting defeat. You hadn’t meant to fall in this deep with Dieter if you’re being honest with yourself. It was supposed to just be a summer fling but as time went on he squirmed his way deeper and deeper into your heart, making room for himself to curl up inside, and making himself a nice little home there. It was becoming too much to handle, the stress weighing you down more as the days passed by.

If anything was going to prepare you for a newborn it might as well be this. Dieter shouts for you from the guest room in the middle of the night, waddling through the doorway you see him sprawled out on the bed. A thin sheen of sweat covers his chest, turning on the bedside lamp he winces.

“Baby,” Dieter groans, reaching out for you, sitting on the bed you give him your hand, “I love you. I love you more than anything in this world.”

“I know, D,” you murmur, the tears already threatening your waterline as he grasps your hand like it’s his only lifeline, “I know.”

“Hey,” he says perking up some, “Once I’m through with this we should go on vacation somewhere!”

“D we can’t,” you sniffle, rubbing the hand he isn’t holding onto against your nose.

“Why not?”

“Peanut,” you say, giving him a small smile.

“We’ll just take Peanut with us,” he smiles, moving one of his hands to rest on your stomach.

“That’s not really how it works, D,” you groan, “We can’t just up and leave whenever we want to. Not with Peanut.”

“Fine,” Dieter says firmly nodding, jaw going rigid, “Guess it doesn’t matter what I want to do then.”

“No,” you whisper, “It doesn’t.”

For the first time in your entire relationship, Dieter looks angry. He lets go of your hand and rolls over, his back facing you.

“Dieter,” you say softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Would you consider going back to rehab?”

Dieter doesn’t respond. When you repeat yourself he just grunts and shoves your hand off his shoulder.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

The next morning when you wake, he’s gone again. A note with his chicken scratch left on his bedside table.

You’re right. Checking into White Oak again. Things will get better. I promise ❤️

Love, D

—

It took four days. Four days for Dieter to check himself out of rehab and go missing again.

“I can’t fucking do this anymore!” You wail into the phone, leaving yet another voicemail on Dieter’s brand new phone, “Dieter, I need you to come home. Please. If not for me then for Peanut.”

“Fuck!” You shout, throwing your phone across the room, and beginning to pace back and forth. There is nothing you can do besides wait. Wait and hope that Dieter’s not lying in a ditch somewhere. You can feel your heart breaking into a million pieces.

You reach down, trying with all your might to grab your phone and then you feel it. A sharp pain in your groin and liquid rushing down your legs.

“Ahh!” You groan out, the pain sending you to your knees, reaching for your phone and dialing 911, waiting to be put through to a dispatcher, “No, no, no. This can’t be happening. It’s not time yet, it’s not time,” you clutch your stomach, telling the dispatcher you need an ambulance and your address.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

While you lay on the floor waiting for an ambulance to arrive the only thing you can think of is Dieter and how he should be here. You pick up your phone one more time and try calling him again.

“Hey, it’s Bravo, can’t come to the phone right now but you know what to do after the beep.” Beep.

“Dieter, I’m going into labor. An ambulance is on the way. I need you, please,” you continue through tears, “I’m so scared and I need you. Please come back. Please.”

—

It’s almost been a month since you’ve been home from the hospital. Dieter still hasn’t shown back up, has yet to meet his beautiful baby in person. You started seeing a therapist to help you process everything you’ve been through with Dieter. Looking over at Peanut sleeping peacefully in the bassinet beside your bed, you can’t help thinking about how it’s so unfair to this little baby to have a father who would choose drugs over them, but there’s nothing you can do besides be the best parent you can for Peanut.

It startles you to hear a crashing sound coming from the kitchen. Slowly making your way out of bed to grab the baseball bat from the closet, you glance over at Peanut one more time before leaving the bedroom to see who dared disturb your peace.

“God damn it,” you hear Dieter groan, “I could’ve sworn I had some in here.”

You try to calm your heart rate, peering around the doorway to see Dieter rummaging through a kitchen drawer. He’s finally shown up. Not for you, not for his baby, but only to try and find drugs. He’s literally only here for the damn drugs. Your therapist had warned you about this moment.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

“Where the fuck is it?!” Dieter hisses, still not noticing you in the doorway, flipping on the lights.

“Gone,” you state firmly, setting the bat against the wall, and crossing your arms, “I flushed everything.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Dieter shrieks, facing you in the doorway but barely focusing on you. “You had no right to do that!”

“I did it because you asked me to when you were detoxing the last time.”

“I never said anything like that,” he seethes, stalking towards you, pointing a finger in your face, “I would never ask you to flush my shit.”

“Dieter, where have you been?” you ask, noting his blown-out pupils, and the wild look in his eyes. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Needed some space,” Dieter scoffs shrugging, “It’s not that big of a fucking deal.”

“Peanut.”

“The fuck?” Dieter asks, looking at you with malice in his eyes.

“Peanut,” you grit through your teeth, pointing down the hall, “You fucking promised me, Dieter. You promised.”

“Oh get off your high horse,” Dieter yells, “Don’t hold that against me when you baby trapped my ass!”

“I- what?” you say through gritted teeth, “You wanted this just as much as I did! It takes two to make a baby!”

“Fuck that!” Dieter laughs maniacally, “I never wanted to be a fucking dad!”

“D, you don’t mean that,” you say, shaking your head, tears brimming your eyes, “That’s the coke talking. You haven’t even seen Peanut, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’m Dieter-fucking-Bravo, baby!” He shouts, throwing his arms up into the air, “I’m not gonna be held down by some relationship and a baby at home!”

“Fuck you,” you point to the door, face serious. “Get out of this house.”

“My fucking pleasure!” Dieter roars, walking out of the kitchen and slamming the front door.

—

Five years later.

Dieter was flipping through the channels, trying to find something interesting to watch on tv. His high was still lingering, not quite sober but not quite as high as that first hit. The ET channel starts blaring your name, with a picture of you, Peanut, and some guy.

“Looks like there’s an engagement in town,” the host says with a smile, “Looks like she’s got herself a type, but who is this mystery man? It’s rumored they met when he was doing some remodeling work on her house two years ago.”

“That girl’s been through enough!” The other host announces, “Bout time she gets her happy-ever-after!”

Wait, what? No, you’re his. His love, his fairy-tale ending, his forever. Dieter’s world is twisting sideways, Peanut is the spitting image of him. His baby, his baby he has never even met.

“No, no, no,” Dieter groans, picking up his phone to try and call you, the phone goes straight to voicemail. He tries calling your publicist next, again straight to voicemail. Next, he tries your manager, with the same results, over and over again until giving up and calling the one person he can trust.

“Mark,” Dieter cries into the receiver, “Please tell me it’s not true.”

“Dieter,” Mark grunts, “It’s three in the morning, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Is she really getting married?”

“Dieter,” Mark let out an exasperated sigh.

“I need to go back to rehab,” Dieter announces, “If I get clean and do all the steps she’ll have to take me back right?”

“Dieter,” Mark says firmly, “That’s not how it works. Let her go. She’s had to change her number fifteen different times now because you somehow keep getting it. Her entire team has your number blocked.”

“She’s the love of my life, Mark,” he whines, “I can’t just let her go. Starting tomorrow, I’m sober.”

Dieter begins cutting ties with most of his friends or really it was more cutting the people off who encouraged him to use. He went through the detox, he went through the steps as best as he could. He wants to impress you, he wants to get you back, get his kid back, fuck this guy who swooped in while he was away.

---

He’s six months sober. He hadn’t been sober for this long since before Peanut was born. Dieter found out from a friend of a friend’s friend where exactly you were living for the right price, Hollywood would never change. He makes the drive to your house, flowers in the passenger seat for you, and a teddy bear for Peanut. He’s ready to grovel at your feet if that’s what it will take. Pulling up to the curb he sees a nice suburban home. It’s nothing like what you two had shared, no ornate bushes out in the front yard, no massive gate surrounding the house keeping you caged in, kids freely playing in the neighboring yards. The front door opens and he feels like he’s been sucker punched. You’re standing there, staring daggers at him. He watches you leave the doorway, and as you walk towards his car he can’t help but think you look just as beautiful as the first day he met you.

He opens the car door, grabs the flowers and teddy bear, and gets out.

“Stop right there,” you state firmly, shoulders back and head held high, “What the fuck are you doing here Dieter?”

“I’m sober,” he says, “I thought- I thought maybe I could come and try to talk to y-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You laugh, but not the soft laugh that fills him with so much light like Dieter remembers, this laugh doesn’t bring him comfort, it only brings him a sense of loss.

“I haven’t used in six months now, I’m trying to change, I really am,” he sighs, “I know I fucked up, I know I’ve been gone but I can’t think of you marrying someone else. I can’t”

“You’ve been gone?” You ask, shaking your head, “You were more than gone, it’s been five years. What did you think was going to happen Dieter? That I would still be in that house, taking care of our baby all on my own just waiting on you to come to your senses? Don’t act like you were just gone on a business trip, it’s been five damn years!”

“No, that’s-” he starts, swallowing the lump in his throat, “That’s now how I meant it.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I haven’t been good in a long time. The last time things were good was when I was with you.”

“And?” you ask, gritting your teeth together, “What does that have to do with anything? You left Dieter. You left me. Alone, pregnant, I almost lost Peanut because of you.”

He hates this, he never thought he’d see a side of you like this. Angry, mean, spiteful. You were always forgiving, tender, and always cared about his feelings. What happened?

“What happened to you?” Dieter asks, shaking his head, “When we were together you were never like this. You’re being so hateful.”

“What happened to me?” You shout, “Dieter, you! You happened to me!”

“Babe,” Dieter looks past you to the man at the door, “Everythin’ a’right?”

“Yeah, Joel,” you say giving the man a warm smile, the smile that was once for Dieter, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Daddy look at this!” Dieter hears a kid shout, and the man named Joel responds to the kid’s voice with a “Comin’ kiddo!”

“Is that-” Dieter swallows, feeling his mouth go dry, “Was that Peanut?”

“Yes,” you reply coldly.

“That’s not Peanut’s dad. I’m Peanut’s dad!”

“You lost the chance to be Peanut’s dad when you never showed up for the birth,” you say stepping closer to him, “You lost the chance to be Peanut’s dad when you decided to break into our home to look for drugs when they were a month old,” pushing against his chest, flowers and teddy bear falling to the ground, “You lost the chance to be Peanut’s dad when you fucked off for the past five years. Don’t you ever call yourself Peanut’s dad, got it?”

“Biologically I am Peanut’s dad,” Dieter protests.

“You may be the sperm donor but that makes you just about as much of a parent as a toilet seat does,” you spit out, turning and storming off.

Dieter watches you walk away back to your home, his heart heavy with regret. You were the last reason he had to get sober and get healthy and you didn’t want him. He ruined it.

He turns around placing his hands on top of his car, closing his eyes as his head fills with dark and sad thoughts when he hears a small voice say, “Momma, why was the man you have a picture of in your bedside table here? And why’s he look so sad?”

Dieter’s head perks up and a hopeful grin spreads across his face.

#tightjeansjavijunewritingchallenge #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #daddy dieter

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erosmutt · 3 months ago

Note

hi loveee! I don’t know if you currently take requests but I had this idea in my head for quite a long time now. It may be a little bit kinky so I’m just warning you😭 The idea is that Clay (cuz we all love him lets be honest) and Preg!Reader are like all day at home and Clay lays in bed all day cuz he just been thru some surgeries yk and the reader like cares about him obviously and Clay like gets fed up that she keeps wearing these tight short dresses at home cuz its summer and she likes to show off her bump🤗 and one night he has all of these dirty toughts about her colliding. He wakes her up from her dreams with a kiss and its just like nasty disrespectful sex ☺️ I would totally understand if you wouldn’t like to write it and its absolutely alright. Thank you if you write this honey and take your time!💗💗

THIS ASK IS FROM JUNE 28TH. i am SO sorry, i started working on it and it sat in my drafts </3 ugh i fucking love clay, and thankkkkk youuuuu for giving me an ask that's someone other than scott/sam! i adore my boys, but give the others some love! also... the summer dress + baby bump combo... hnnghgh

also i'm saur sorry this sucks. it's because i'm hurriedly writing it (i'm writing this over a span of like a week LMFAO) and i usually have to let the ask marinate in my mental file cabinet before i can really give the person that requested a good drabble they asked for :(

"you've been in here all morning, just what are you making?" your fiance asks, smiling brightly. he comes into the kitchen and sees a shit ton of baking ingredients all over the place. "honey, hey,"

clay stops in his tracks when he sees... muffins. many, many muffins. on the counters, on the kitchen island, and you were spooning batter into a previously used muffin tin. "my love," he says warily, coming up and resting a hand on your lower back, giving a gentle massage to the area. "are we hosting a party i didn't know about? is there a bake sale going on? we don't have to worry about bake sales for awhile, you know. just what are you doing?"

you didn't know, and he didn't know, but you were nesting. not unusual since your due date was just under a month away, but it normally consisted of cleaning and organizing and decorating - not making enough muffins to feed a small town.

"muffins," you say, shaking the batter remnants into the last cup. you turn and look up at him, a bright, stupid smile on your face. "have one!" picking up a muffin and taking the liner off it, you waddle towards clay, and you offer him the baked good. "here!"

clay looks down at the muffin and takes it, then takes a bite and hums happily. "it's good honey, but what's the occasion?" he reaches down and presses his hand to your swollen belly, then gives it some rubs. "just in the mood for muffins, huh?"

you nod eagerly, then lean forward and kiss his cheek. "can you make strawberry muffins the way you make blueberry muffins?" you ask him curiously, not minding the way he pulls you in and turns you around to face the counter. "i'm sure. by the way, you look very cute this morning." he murmurs, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your neck. "thank you." you respond softly, removing the remaining muffins from the tin.

"i never thought you would wear this dress." he continues, coaxing you to bend over the counter. but much to his dismay, you stand straight and make your way over to the fridge to put the container of muffins that had cooled away. clay sighs and rubs his brow, his stiffening cock not calming down for the foreseeable future.

"'m gonna go lay down, my back hurts." you tell him, walking past him to go to the bedroom. once you were out of his sight, he leaned back against the wall and rubbed his palm over his boner. "fuck."

it had been a handful of hours when clay made his way to the bedroom to check on you, your dress ridden up, an indication of your struggle to find a comfortable position to sleep in. "love," he calls softly, his hand coming to gently grip your bicep. "you won't sleep tonight if you keep napping so late my love."

you stir awake, a soft whine leaving you as you turn over (after some struggle, due to your tummy), eyes opening to see clay. "hi." you smile, and he takes your hands, helping you sit up. "you looked peaceful, but you had to get up." he chuckles, then cups your face with one hand and rubs your rosy cheek with his thumb. his eyes flicker down to your chest, then back up to your face. "you looked lovely today."

his poor attempt at seduction was clearly working, since you pressed your thighs together and looked down at his crotch. the tent being pitched surely didn't go ignored. your hand moves to his clothed dick and begins to rub, a smile gracing your lips. "you were trying to tell me this earlier, weren't you?"

clay nods and hurries to undo his slacks, freeing his cock that greeted you with a twitch. "i didn't want to be so desperate," he shudders as you maneuver yourself onto your back, tugging your dress up. he immediately gets between your legs, his tip teasing your clothed pussy. "because you're gonna have this baby any day now," he goes on, pulling your panties aside. "and i don't want to hurt you, love."

he guides his dick into you and moans, eyes rolling back as he bottoms out inside your warm heat. "gods," he whispers. "i don't think i could wait any longer." clay begins rocking his hips, the motion making your full tits bounce, your hands coming to rest on your belly. "clay, you don't have to be so gentle," you whine. "i want you to fuck me."

clay swallows down the paranoia and begins to thrust harder, grunting with each smack of his balls against your ass. "ughn- shit," he curses, much to your surprise. he tried not to, to keep up appearances. "have you always b- hhugh -een this tight?" he asks, nearly in disbelief. you giggle, your gaze fixed on his face, expression displaying immense pleasure. "i guess so."

he leaned down and put his hands on either side of you then began to thrust harder as opposed to faster, brows furrowed. barely five minutes in and he was already about to cum. "love, please," clay falters for a second, his hand going over his chest. right before you could stop him, he came inside you with a drawled moan, eyes fluttering closed. "oh..."

you, as quickly as you can, have him pull out and lay down next to you. "babes, are you okay?!" you put your hand over his, eyes filled with fear. "you shouldn't have-" "i'm fine," he mutters between catching his breath. "it was amazing, my heart was racing." you blink at him, then gently pat his hand. "yeah, it does that when you're excited." you giggle. "rest, clay."

#bnuuy answers #asks!#slutforfinnickodair #erosmutt #clay beresford #clayton beresford #clay beresford smut #clay beresford x reader #clayton beresford x reader #clayton beresford smut #clay beresford x you #clayton beresford x you #x reader #hayden christensen #awake 2007

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thezombieprostitute · 10 months ago

Text

Hummingbird - Part 4

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

Word Count: ~1300

A/N: Reader is female but no physical descriptors are used.

A/N2: This takes place at the same time as Dream Come True - Part 3.

Warnings: Talk of purposefully not eating enough. Let me know if I missed any!

Part 3 -- Part 5

Series Masterlist

After the party was officially over and the last guest had left, Steve pulled you in for a deep kiss. “Thank you for staying with me tonight,” he breathes. “Couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”

“Yes, you would have,” you croon.

“Nope,” he counters, holding you close to him. “I definitely wouldn’t have been able to keep my calm without you on my arm. Would’ve thrown everyone out in a huff at the end of the scheduled time instead of letting them linger as an excuse to keep you with me.”

“Ah, I was wondering why you let so many stragglers stick around,” you smile at him. “Anything to spend more time with me, huh?”

“We can spend a lot more time together. Tonight. If you want,” he smirks.

“As much fun as that would be,” you tease, “I want to have an actual date or two first.”

“I can respect that. What would you like? A night on the town? A night at the gallery? A fancy, incredibly exclusive restaurant?”

You smirk, “I want to see you in something other than a suit.” He blinks in surprise and you continue, “do you even have any casual wear? When was the last time you were able to just have a night in and not have to dress fancy?”

His cheeks turn a little pink at that, “it…it really has been a long time.”

“I figured. So, for our first date, you’re coming to my apartment, wearing something casual, and we’re going to stay in and watch movies. How does that sound?”

“It sounds perfect,” he coos as he pulls you in for another kiss.

Steve stood, hands on his hips, staring at his closet for the better part of an hour. Your date is tonight and he’s realized he might be lacking in terms of “something casual”. He’s had to wear suits for so many years that it just became easier to wear them every day, especially if he had an emergency meeting come up. His closet was completely dominated by professional clothes with no denim, khakis or t-shirts in sight.

Sam and Bucky weren’t being helpful, either. “Seriously, Steve, you know she’s into you,” Sam exclaims. “Stop worrying so much about it.”

“Just don’t wear a jacket and keep the top couple of buttons undone,” Bucky added. “It’s not quite casual but it’s probably as close as you’re gonna get.”

“How about some of your workout clothes,” Sam asks. “They’re all clean, right?”

“Sweatpants might be a little too casual,” Bucky retorts.

“Fair, fair,” Sam concedes. “But the shirts could work.”

“Yeah,” Bucky nods. “One of those shirts, not tucked in, and no jacket. That’s pretty casual. Especially for Steve.”

Steve lets out an exasperated sigh and follows their advice. He also makes a mental note to figure out something less formal from his tailor.

When you open the door to your apartment Steve hands you a bouquet of purple petunias and violets. You bounce on your toes a little as you take them from him and gesture for him to come inside. He’s immediately hit by the delightful mix of smells coming from your kitchen.

“I thought we were going to order delivery,” he comments.

You snort, “ordering out is for when I’m worn out and can’t bring myself to cook. I really enjoy cooking and everything that comes with it. Except for the dishes but thankfully I have a dishwasher.”

Steve chuckles, “is there anything I can do to help out?”

“Yes, actually. I need a taste tester!” You giggle as you pull him into the kitchen. You set the flowers in a vase and turn back to your cooking. “And thanks for wearing a t-shirt,” you comment. “Now I don’t have to be so scared about accidentally spilling some food and staining your very expensive clothing.”

“That’s why you wanted me in casual wear? If any shirt got stained I’d have just gotten a new one,” he argues.

“Or,” you counter, “you could just have an outfit that’s okay to relax and not a big deal if you get food, makeup or whatever on it.”

He raises an eyebrow, “are you thinking of getting some of your makeup on my shirts?” Heat rushes to your cheeks and you stumble over your words, trying to think of a reply. Instead you dip a spoon into the sauce and ask him to taste test it. He grins wickedly at your deflection but obliges.

“Mmmmmm,” is his immediate response. “That tastes really good! A nice bit of heat with it, too. What is it?”

“It’s the sauce for some tinga de pollo,” you reply. “So not too much cumin or too little garlic?”

“Not at all,” he affirms. “It’s damn delicious!”

You squeak in delight and turn back to the stove. You turn off the burners and start dishing up the rice and chicken. “If you need some more heat for it, let me know,” you tell Steve as you hand him his plate. “In the meantime, let’s watch a movie. Do you have any preferences?”

“Umm,” he ponders. “Just no True Crime stuff?”

“Okay! We’re watching Labyrinth, then.”

“A Muppet movie?”

“A great Muppet movie, thank you.”

Steve smiles as you both sit on the couch and you sidle up to him. The food really is delicious and you were nice enough to dish out large portions. Definitely better than a fancy restaurant that serves mostly empty plates. It makes him think about his early career when he was finally able to afford to eat his fill. People were amazed at how quickly he was able to bulk up once he was finally getting enough food. But he had to stop eating his fill in favor of manners and societal obligations. He’s so caught up in enjoying the food he doesn’t realize how fast he’s eaten it until he accidentally brings an empty fork to his mouth.

“Thank you for the compliment,” you smirk. He blushes and tries to apologize for eating so fast but you cut him off. “Sincerely, Steve,” you comfort him, “I’m glad you enjoyed the food. Would you like some more?”

“Yes, please,” he looks at you so appreciatively you give him a small kiss on the cheek as you grab his plate. He tries to grab his plate back but you put a hand on his chest, to keep him seated. “I can get my own food,” he argues. “You should sit and keep eating.”

“Hmm…” you ponder, enjoying the feel of his chest under your hand. “Okay. But promise me you’ll leave room for dessert.”

“I promise,” he smiles and you hand him his plate back. He comes back from the kitchen with his plate entirely covered with food. You raise an eyebrow and he looks right at you as he starts eating. Figuring he knows what he’s doing you settle in again and get back to the movie.

When you’re done eating you set your plate on the coffee table and snuggle up against Steve, resting your head on his shoulder. He freezes for a moment but finds himself relaxing into you. When he finishes his plate he sets it aside and wraps his arm around you. Hugging his massive bicep you sidle closer to him until you’re almost sitting on his leg and rest your head on his chest. He gently moves you so that your legs are sitting on his lap and leans his head against yours.

Between the weight of his arm, his body heat and the steady rhythm of his heart you find yourself falling asleep. You try to fight it but then you hear Steve’s gentle snores. Carefully, so as not to wake him, you glance up and smile at his handsome face, more relaxed than you’ve ever seen. You decide to go with it and let yourself fall asleep feeling safe and warm in his arms.

Part 3 -- Part 5

Series Masterlist

Tags:

@alicedopey; @aryhyuuga; @cynic-spirit; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ktficworld; @rebekahdawkins; @texmexdarling

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know.

#mob boss!steve rogers #mob!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #mob!steve rogers x reader #gonna just go ahead and embrace this as a full series

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glittercake · 4 months ago

Text

For Samtember Day 3: 'Costume' @samsseptember

“How long’s this going to take? Let me speak to Ayo.”

On his end of the line, Sam snorts, then does a quick scan of the workshop to see which Wakandan saw him smiling at his boyfriend this time. Okoye had already drawn an incredibly immature picture of Sam and Bucky and pinned it to the notice board in the palace foyer.

“Ayo doesn’t want to speak to you,” Sam says. He rotates his arm along with the hologram. It beeps a few times and records his biceps measurement, then moves to his chest. “Besides, it’s nice here. I ain’t in a rush.”

Bucky groans. Sam laughs again. “Yeah, you’re not. I’m dying over here.”

“Because you gotta work with Torres? Grow up, Buck.”

“He’s alright. No, I’m—”

“Before you say that, remember you’re calling on Wakandan tech, and if Aneka calls me Captain Lovey Pants one more time, I’m breaking up with you.”

This time, instead of complaining, Bucky cackles. It goes on for a few seconds. And yeah, Sam’s smiling again, all to himself.

“Stop,” he says fondly, listens to Bucky laughing on the other end. So maybe he lied. Maybe he could rush a little to get home. Maybe he misses this idiot just a little. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if they tossed this new suit through a speed cycle and threw him on a jet back home tonight.

“If you laugh, Captain, your chest expands and corrupts the reading,” Lerato tells him when she restarts the measurement. Again.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry ma’am.” Sam holds still, bites back a laugh. “You’re getting me in trouble, man. I gotta go.”

“Yeah, alright. Gotta get started on my dinner for one, anyway.”

“You’ll be fine, baby. I’ll send an update later.”

“Later, sweetheart.”

“Cheers, Buck.”

“Finally. My ears can not stand another second of that.” Ayo has come to check on the suit’s progress and gives Sam a sideways look.

Sam sighs. “Of course you heard.”

“It’s custom here to give the new leaders as much grief as possible—this is looking good. Any requests? James sent a list, but it went missing. Strange, hm?” A smirk plays around her mouth.

Sam smiles. Bucky is still very much banned from Wakanda despite his letter of apology. “Yeah, if it’s anything like his shopping lists, that’s a good thing. Uh. Just one request, really.”

Ayo fiddles with the inputs and projections and slides a few specs around. “I can not turn Redwing into an actual bird, Samuel. We talked about this.”

“That’s what you claim, yeah, and I’m gonna keep asking, but no, not that.”

She gives him a suspicious look. Probably because whatever is upgradable on this suit has been upgraded, it even has an unimaginable amount of secret pockets and he won’t admit it out loud but he’s using those for lube and condoms and gum and there is nothing the Kingdom of Wakanda can do about it.

“Alright, the suit’s a little loose in the back. That’s all.”

“In the back? Samuweli, uthetha ngantoni?”

“You know. Part of this gig is the image. I gotta look good.” He motions vaguely to his ass. “This just needs to be a little… tighter.”

Ayo stares at him, then blinks. “That old man has got you good, doesn’t he?”

“Hey, I see how you look at Aneka. Yesterday she mentioned peaches and what did you do last night—” Ayo groans, rolls her eyes. “—no, tell me what you did last night!”

Her mouth twitches, but she schools her expression, points at him. “Wena. You are on thin ice.”

“You baked her a whole peach pie, that’s what. You feel me?”

“She likes pie,” Ayo says with a soft little sparkle behind her eyes, regarding Sam for a moment before returning to the monitors. “Fine. Tighter in the back.” She fiddles with two of the measurements on the suit hologram, then presses Enter.

Sam gives her his best grin when the machine circles down to his hips. “Thanks. I owe you.”

Ayo gathers her spear and clipboard. “We are hosting a few Ghanaian warriors tomorrow night. They would love to meet you. Wear the new suit.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I guess ‘Captain Lovey Pants’ has a whole new meaning now, eh?” Sam groans, and Ayo throws her head back and laughs and then some on her way out of the workshop.

The scanner zips into motion, and within seconds, the material tightens around his glutes, squeezing.

“Uh, Lerato! Ayo? Not this tight!”

“Hm,” Lerato says, titling her head and peeking around at Sam’s behind, smiles then shrugs. “I don’t see the problem, Captain. Didn’t you say it’s all about the image?”

“Ugh, I did.” Sam regrets everything. These folks are relentless.

“Well,” Lerato says, a sneaky, mischievous look in her eyes. “This is quite the image.”

#samtember2024 #ficlets

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silkkorchid · 9 months ago

Text

What went down in TWST rp in a week-

Covers 3/30 - 4/5

This week was ok ish…

NRC therapist and Gardening club seems to be planning something against Mrs. Rosehearts…

NRC Newspaper club has a new member called, Atlas, seeming to be an unofficial prophet for NRC, thanks to his Unique Magic.

There is a Dance Club at NRC now-

One of the hosts and the host club seem to have a questionable draft that was soon posted by another host. I’m looking at you 🪞⚜️.

NRC Host Club has now a menu of food, with the one of them being uhm a very clever name for it!

NRC cooking club made a disgusting salad that I cannot describe…

NRC allows students to have tazer if worn correctly…

Another race is happening between Royal Sword Academy and Night Raven College. And there is a poll which school is going to win, some students at NRC are rigging the poll.

Both of RSA and NRC Cleaning club have log entries.

Che’nya is at it with the invisible boop towards the boys.

Some of the boys’ future children are throwing powder ball at them, for no apparent reasons???

The Diasomnia gossip account seems to be telling all the juicy stuff that happens in Diasomnia- wait does Malleus even know this exists?

Someone said Sebek is just… I can’t say it as I’m gonna puke…

A boop war has commenced between us who will get the most boops.

A boop battle between Ruggie and Silver. Silver surrender with Ruggie being the winner .

A student of Diasomnia ate a whole pathway since they were hungry. The person that did this, u know.

Malleus and Althea is having a boop match across campus. Then lasers were incorporated into this match of theirs.? After all that happens, Althea and Malleus end their boop match with ice cream.

Althea trying kidnap Gidel, NO TOUCHING THE CHILD ALTHEA!

General Lilia came back from the dead.

Lilia destroyed the microwave again, wait is that smoke coming from Diasomnia?

Lilia got into Ramshackle’s kitchen and yeeeee….

Riddle realized his mother now got a Tumblr account-

Ace got food poisoning, and Riddle ban him from the kitchen till he gets his credit for the mandatory cooking class.

Mrs. Rosehearts has came back after 4 days. Someone gotta hold onto me before I jump her.

Seems like fans of Riddle are pushing their buttons with Mrs. Rosehearts, and I’m proud seeing them being straight forward on causing chaos.

Ace destroyed a microwave. No questions ask.

Ace got collared for the millionth time.

Ruggie’s future child SOMEHOW broke through a wall!? H-how does that logic work!?

Someone cast a spell onto ruggie in which made him wear bunny ears and a tail.

Leona is trying to pass his responsibility onto Ruggie.

Azul has now met his future child after idk how long.

@quartztwst made Azul bald.

Jamil trying to prevent Alcestris dating Najima, his sister. Meanwhile Althea cheering Alce on…

Epel came back after a beauty break to see the last update before shortly going offline.

Idia arguing which anime he and his future children will watch.

Idia allowing his future children to commit arson…. Ortho please stop him being a bad influence to his own future children…

Idia loosing his shit when the topic of Sonic came up.

Idia lost something very important for his magic pen.

Someone reminded Idia that he accidentally left Ortho’s filter off and you know the story.

The boys’ future children somehow got gender-bend due to a potion.?

The children tried monopoly and it turn into a full on war.

One of Sam’s friends can speak that wired language that I can’t understand-

Cheka came back after a long nap.

Someone taught Cheka to swear-

Fellow and Gidel is at it again trying to find new puppets…

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney #twistedwonderland #disney twst #🍮 speaking #diasomnia #riddle rosehearts #twst cheka #twst rp weekly update #twst rp

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bcacstuff · 21 days ago

Note

Did you noticed Sam's time on IG these last 3 days? Back in Scotland?

Yes, of course I noticed the times he posted on IG. I keep track of them and list them. That's why I'm always amazed when people jump to all kind of conclusions that do not match with the reality but for some kind of reason, mostly confirmation bias, add up to the story they've build in their heads.

I mean, the ones claiming he barely posted on IG this whole week and make assumptions, he must have been ill (as his voice in the video yesterday seem to sound a little sore) to people way to much focussed on dates for which there is hardly a shred of evidence, only smoke and mirrors, now claiming they found the answer on the eternal chicken and egg question. 🙄

Anyway, it doesn't cure fatal diseases nor will it solve any wars. So, nope not gonna entertain that nonsense.

So yes, I did look at the times he posted, last Friday only 3 reposts all at the same time, just before 7pm (UK time). Could indicate flying somewhere. Could be back home, could be elsewhere.... and then yesterday the video announcing his whisky available in Canada.

Surely enough I looked a bit into it, curiosity kills the cat, and I did notice the Scottish flag on the framed poster.

A poster called The Complete Robert Burns and can be ordered online shipped to wherever you want it! #justsaying

So, at itself it doesn't really determine that it must be in Scotland (or his home for that matter) someone in China with Scottish roots or loving Burns work could order it and put it on their wall as well....

I never saw this poster at his house, which also doesn't exclude that option, as it could simply be a corner in the tavern he hasn't shown us yet. It's at least not the usual spot he records his videos in his tavern, but sure he could have chosen that spot for St. Andrews day 🤷‍♀️

What made me doubt though was the glass he used for his whisky....

I asked myself, wouldn't he use his own SS whisky glass when he was at home? As far as I can remember he always does, and it's only in hotel rooms we see him use other.

Oh and for the people saying he didn't wear his rings, well... I do think he can take them off in a hotel room as well.

Anyway, those were the thoughts I had, there isn't much more to go by. The tiny furniture parts we can see for a sec or less isn't enough to go by. Add to that we don't know when he recorded this video, though I don't think it was weeks ago and do think it is recent if not RT.

So, yes it's back to the times, while yesterday his first reposted story was quite early for UK, today (so far) it's between noon and the beginning of the evening UK times. It does match mostly UK, but I'm not entirely sure, so it's still speculation.

I know you al will draw your own conclusions, and that's okay. But for my sanity, please use your good sense of reality. I'm still looking for one eyeball, as I rolled my eyes so much at my inbox...

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

Later edit, after posting above I received this Anon

which shows indeed the same framed poster (in his old house) so he does own one, and makes it more credible the video yesterday was recorded at his tavern.

Thanks Anon 🧡🧡🧡

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casdeans-pie · 1 year ago

Text

Part 2 of Flustered Castiel Accidentally Explodes Lightbulbs And Causes Power Outages Especially When Dean's Fingers Are In His Hair

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4. Thanks again to @dreampencil for the inspiration to get this done!

Thanks to everyone for all the great feedback on part 1!

---------

The second time it happened, Dean was trying to make a joke out of it. (Even if the reason he did it wasn’t funny at all).

The thing about hunting The Winchester Way was that it sometimes involved dressing up in silly outfits.

Gym teacher, fitness instructor, insurance salesman, television crew, that one time they were zookeepers… The Winchesters never skipped an opportunity to infiltrate a case by wearing a ridiculous disguise. Nearly every hunter out there had pretended to be FBI, or doctors, or part of the CDC, but where was the fun in that? Something about putting on the outfits of these different people like he was stepping into their skin appealed to Dean’s inner child who had never had the time or opportunity to play pretend games.

Ironically, Dean had been calling it The Winchester Way since he and Sam had started hunting together, but at no point could either of them imagine John Winchester ever dressing up and pretending to be in any of the professions that they had used for a hunt like that. So, in fact, maybe it was just The Dean Winchester Way.

Which was fine with Dean.

And being an Angel didn’t excuse Cas from this.

If anything, it created an extra dimension of fun, because then Dean got to see Castiel Angel Of The Lord’s pouty bitchy frown whenever he had to wear whatever silly outfit they were using for their disguises.

But it had never backfired before…

The plan for the hunt had been simple: their research had led them to the deeply religious Mark Lomax, who’d unknowingly purchased a cursed pocket watch. He would be kept busy talking at his door with Dean and Cas, while Sam broke in through the back and removed the curse. To keep him talking for long enough Dean and Cas would be disguised as members of a new local church appealing for new followers to combat the evils of all the recent deaths and murders in town.

Simple.

Dean had no love for the cardigan-wearing-sensible-hair look, but he’d thought that it would be worth it to see Cas dressed up all dorky like that.

But the laughter that Dean had been ready to let loose turned to acid in his throat when Cas emerged from his room – with his frown firmly in place – and a name resounded like a thunderclap through Dean’s skull.

Emmanuel.

Dean froze where he stood, feeling his blood run cold.

And then, to his increasing horror, he distantly heard Sam complaining about the state of Cas’s hair through the ringing in his ears. Sam reached over and flattened the soft black spikes with his hands, completing the look even further.

Cas pouted the whole time.

Sam eventually stepped back to survey his work and nodded. “Much neater,” he said.

But Dean could almost feel his heart breaking all over again, remembering how it felt to look at Cas and see no recognition in his expression. Meeting his wife-

“Dean?” Cas said, the line between his eyebrows deep and furrowed at his long silence. His blue eyes locked onto Dean’s and held there.

You know me, Dean remembered thinking desperately, even as Cas- Emmanuel had looked at him like a total stranger.

The affection almost glowing in those same eyes now finally seemed to ground Dean back into reality.

Castiel. Cas. He wasn’t Emmanuel. He’d got his memories back.

You know me, Dean thought with relief, as he felt his heartrate slow.

“Dean?” Cas asked again, his voice low and laced with concern.

Sam cleared his throat.

Dean swallowed, shook off the last of the nightmarish flashback, and finally broke eye contact with Cas. He gestured at his hair. “C’mon, Sammy,” Dean whined with a shake of his head, “look what you’ve done to him. Lomax isn’t gonna believe this guy even leaves his house. Definitely won’t think he goes door-to-door.”

Without waiting for a reaction Dean took the two strides to stand in front of Cas and plunged his hands deep into his hair, intending to ruffle it back out and fully dispel the image of Emmanuel.

A few things happened at once.

The lights above them fizzed loudly as they flashed almost blindingly, while the whole bunker buzzed and groaned as every electronic console and device flared to life – dials whizzed, switches blinked, and car alarms all simultaneously blared from the garage. The lights flickered and dimmed and flashed brightly again. The electronic buzzing increased in pitch until it hit a reedy whine, and just when it felt like the whole bunker was going to overload or his eardrums were going to burst, Dean removed his hands from where he’d left them in Cas’s hair to slap them over his ears instead- and everything stopped.

The lights returned to normal, the ringing and the alarms stopped, and all the devices powered down again with a gentle hum…

Dean and Sam slowly removed their hands from their ears.

The three of them looked at each other in the eerie silence.

Dean could see that Sam was fine, just a little shaken, but Cas’s chest was heaving as if he were short on breath. His hair stuck up at crazy angles where Dean’s hands had pushed in, and his wide eyes were once again locked onto him.

Sam looked up at the lights. “What was that? Should I check on the power?”

“Cas?” Dean asked hesitantly, remembering a similar phenomenon that had happened on a hunt once before.

Cas finally blinked. “Uh. Excuse me-” His voice came out at an even lower rumble than usual, and he practically ran back to his room. The door slammed behind him.

“What’s going on?” Sam said as he looked between Dean and where Cas had gone. “What happened?”

Dean let out a low breathy laugh. “I think… I think I know. But I uh, I might need to do one more test. Y’know, just to make sure.” He clapped Sam on the shoulder. “Nothing to worry about, Sammy. Just grownup stuff.”

Sam shrugged and snorted as he went to check on the consoles of dials and lights. “I shouldn’t even be surprised with you two anymore,” he mumbled as he went. “D’you think he’s coming back?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll give him five minutes to compose himself and then we’ll get the show back on the road.”

If Dean needed any more confirmation that Cas was really himself, here with them- here with Dean, well, that was certainly it.

His heart felt too big for his chest suddenly.

With his good mood restored Dean grinned as he looked out at where Cas had fled to. He flexed his hands by his side, remembering the brief moment that he’d had them in the feathery softness of Cas’s hair.

First, they had the hunt, but then Dean had an experiment to plan.

------

Part 3: [link]

#I wasn't sure whether to make this its own post or not or just to add it as a reblog to part 1 aaa #anyway! thanks again for the great feedback! here's part 2 of this thing!!#destiel #destiel ficlet #castiel's angel powers #destiel fanfiction #castiel headcanon #pie's projects #my fanfiction #deancas #flustered!castiel

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cosmicpearlz · 2 years ago

Text

aching bones

summary: exes are supposed to be okay with each other having feelings for another person. but not when it’s your best friend. maybe things aren’t what they seem.

pairing: chad meeks martin x fem!reader, some tara carpenter x chad meeks martin

a/n: this is kinda long and it goes through different povs but i hope you enjoy! <3

chad was the love of your life in a distant time. he had been your first everything. at some point, you guys decided it would be best to let the relationship go. mutually agreeing that the arguments and fighting were tiresome. that didn’t stop you guys from being friends and still hanging out with each other.

tara, your best friend, had helped you all throughout the break up. seeing you at you worse but being there to pick up all the pieces and mend the brokenness. you didn’t know what’d you do without her.

“tara! what are you wearing to the party?” you hollered at her from down the hallway, as you made your way to her room. you opened the door to find the girl with three different hangers in her hands.

“i’m thinking about doing a dress but then there’s these cute pants. but then y/n, there’s the cute mini skirt,” she turns to you with a pout on her face.

“help me!”

“babes, i dunno how to help you,” it was hard to contain your laughter. tara frowned even harder, causing her eyebrows to turn downward too.

“y/n!”

“okay okay,” you grabbed the hangers out of her hands and inspected each item carefully. you hand her the purple mini skirt, hanging the other two pieces back into her closet. you go into her dresser and grab a white halter top to throw at her.

“hey! i said help not be aggressive.”

“there. now, shower and get dressed. i’m ready to dance the night away. does sam know you’re going?” she rolled her hands at your teasing smirk.

“yes asshole. now get out of my room! by the way, your outfit is too cute!” she gestures to your sheer black rhinestone dress that you paired with black spandex underneath and some black chunky heels.

“you can never go wrong with a little black dress,” you winked at her and closed her room door.

walking back to the living room, you didn’t notice everyone else was already there. ethan, chad, mindy, anika, and quinn sat waiting for tara to finish.

“woah look at this hot mama!” quinn whistles at you, you smiled and do a turn.

“hehe thanks quinny!” you blew a kiss to her and sat next to anika on the couch, laying your head on her shoulder.

chad was blown away by you once again. the dress fitting your body in just the right places. showing off your gorgeous legs. the way your heels made you slightly taller. just as he was thinking about you, tara walks out to the living room. it made him want to confess to tara that he had feelings for her.

it felt wrong having feelings for two girls that happened to be friends. best friends at that. chad knew he’d always love you but to him, he thought there was no chance to be with you again. even though the breakup was mutual, he had missed you just as much as you missed him. at that time tara had caught his eye.

“who's ready to party?”

chad doesn’t know how he got here. one minute he’s taking shots with ethan and the next he’s in a quiet room, sitting with tara. shoulder to shoulder and feeling a little tipsy, chad feels like this is the perfect time to tell tara.

“tara i have to te-“

“chad i have something to-“ they both share a laugh before chad nudged the girl to start first.

“i was just gonna say that i think i like you. as in more than a friend,” chad freezes for a moment, not expecting tara to say what was on his mind. he leans in a bit closer to the girl, while she did the same.

“i was just going to tell you that-“

“hey tar, are you in here?” you opened the door and paused upon seeing your ex and best friend sitting too close. almost as if they were gonna kiss.

“what the fuck?” blinking back the fast tears that threaten to fall down your face, you backed up out the doorway.

“wait y/n, it’s not-“

“stay.. the hell away from me,” your voice cracked with every word. you shook your head and turned to walk away. tara is quick to follow you and grabs your arm. you shook your arm from her hold and turned to face her.

“how could you?”

“y/n.”

“seriously fuck off tara,” ignoring the pleads from tara and chad, you hastily walked out to get fresh air.

never did you expect your best friend to betray you like she did. tara had known that you still had feelings for the stupidly handsome boy, how could you not? he was everything you could ever want and more.

you drowned yourself into your blankets and the comfor of your own bed. too afraid of running into either of them. you couldn’t bear the sight of seeing them be together, not when you still loved him.

“y/n, you have to leave the bed at some point.”

“the bed would never hurt me.”

“my brother is a major asshole. i know he still loves you. maybe there’s a good explanation for this,” mindy continues rubbing your back, while you rolled your eyes.

“yeah right. if he loved me, he wouldn’t try to get with my best friend.”

mindy didn’t know how to fix the problem. she just knew that chad and tara had to figure out how to make the situation better before it got worse.

chad paces back and forth throughout the dorm room, making ethan slightly concerned for the boy. he had never seen chad so distressed. usually, he was the up beat one in the group, always smiling.

“i ruined everything eth. she will never talk to me again.”

“what did you do?”

“i almost kissed tara because i thought i had feelings for her. well i do have feelings for her but they’re not as strong as the feelings i have for y/n. we’ve been broken up for some months now and i thought that would help me get over her but it didn’t. ethan i dunno-“

“chad chad, i need you to breathe. have you talked to tara about any of this?”

“no! because losing y/n for the second time, made me realize i could never be without her. i should have fought-,” chad took an audible glup to compose his many thoughts. “i should have fought for her, it was stupid to break up.”

“man, you need to tell her. and you need to talk to tara, letting her know you still love y/n,” chad chuckled dryly at ethan’s words.

“kinda ironic that i used to help you with girl problems and now you’re helping me,” ethan walks up to chad to place a hand on his shoulder.

“this is what friends are for. mainly, i’m just tired of your pacing.”

“i hate you ethan landry,” the two boys shared a laugh, which made chad feel lighter about the situation at hand.

tara didn’t know what to do. how to make you forgive her. how to even make you look at her again. she had lost you for feelings that she wasn’t even sure of. sure, chad was cute but he was also your ex. one too many drinks and she did something that was practically unforgivable.

so the girl decided to have a quick conversation with chad. many thoughts ran through her head but the only one that matters was getting her best friend back.

“hey tara, you asked to meet?” tara looks up from her phone to meet chad’s brown eyes. she gives him a weak smile and motioned him to sit down across from her.

“whatever we thought was there isn’t there. chad, i can’t afford to lose you as my friend and especially not y/n. she’s my best friend and she won’t even talk to me,” tears well up in her eyes and she bites on the corner of her bottom lip. chad sighs and patted tara’s hand.

“i agree with everything you said. i’m truly still in love with her and i think losing her completely made me realize that.”

“has she talked to you yet? she won’t answer any of my calls or text messages.”

“same here tar. every single piece of contact gone unanswered and ignored.”

“there has to be something we could do to get our happy girl back.”

if there was a word to describe chad’s sour mood, it’d be jealousy. maybe a little bit of anger. he watched as you were pressed up against one of the frat brothers, who happened to be his friend. dylan didn’t deserve to touch you. didn’t deserve to be close to you.

“you know chad, maybe if you didn’t royally fuck up that’d be you with her right now.”

“fuck you mindy,” chad threw his shot back aggressively, hoping to shake the feelings away. although, it did nothing to help. irrationally, he decided he would pull you away to talk to you. he wanted his girl back.

“y/n can i talk to you,” you stopped dancing to stare at him with disgust.

“no.”

“but i need-“

“chad, the lady said no.”

“dylan, you’re my friend bro but mind your fucking business. y/n.”

“i have nothing to say to you chad.”

“i have something to say to you, so let’s go,” chad pulls your arm to lead you both outside. you were supposed to be mad at him but in a way his actions were hot.

once you were outside away from watchful eyes and listening ears, you pull your arm out of his grasp. you crossed your arms around your chest and waited for him to start speaking. the boy was nervous under your gaze.

“i’m sorry. baby, you don’t know how-“

“don’t call me that. you lost that right when you decided my best friend was your new companion.”

“y/n listen to me, i don’t want her. i want you, i will always want you.”

“if you wanted me so bad, you wouldn’t have tried to kiss my best fucking friend! the both of you are backstabbing assholes,” you yelled at him while loose tears fell down.

“i fucking love y/n! i will always be in love with you. i see your smile when you go to pick out new books to read. i see the way you light up when someone in our friend group gets a good grade. the way you’d excitedly show me a new ring you wanted to add to your collection.

you are my sunshine and the reason i look forward to waking up. when we broke up because of our ridiculously petty fights, i should’ve never let you walk out those doors. i should’ve pulled you closer to me but instead i let you go. i hurt you and i don’t know if i’ll ever forgive myself for doing so. i’m so fucking sorry.”

you were speechless after chad’s confession. even though you weren’t sure if you fully trusted him fully again, you ran into his arms. you cried as he held you into his warm embrace. rocking you back and forth.

“i’m so sorry. please forgive me.”

after a few minutes of crying into the boy's arms, you removed yourself and wiped your face. sighing, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“i dunno if i could trust you fully. let me have time to myself before i try to be anything with you again. i need time to heal and if you can’t respect that, then we definitely need to stay away from each other.”

“i support whatever decision you make,” you put your head down looking at the rocks. chad closes the distance between you two and grabs your hands.

“hey look at me,” you set your gaze back to his eyes watching him softly smile at you.

“it’s your decision. take all the time you need. i will be right here waiting for you,” he squeezed your hands once more before letting go and stepping back. the boy had tears that fell down his face unwillingly.

chad wasn’t sure if you’d ever come back to him but he sure hoped so. the only he’d know is if he let you go again. it killed him to do so but the last thing he wanted to do was force you into something.

if you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. if they don’t, they never were.

#chad meeks martin x fem!reader #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks martin angst #scream vi #chad meeks martin

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grigori77 · 2 months ago

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Critical Role, Campaign 3 Epsiode 112

Ah, the Halloween episode. This is gonna be fun ... and ... OH MY FUCKING GODS ... so they're ALL Nic Cage ... oh yeah, OF COURSE Liam's the Mandy Cage ... and Ashley's got some poison VX gas from The Rock ... meanwhile Sam ... of dear fuck Sam ... that's just too much ... and of course I've ALREADY worked out which one Marisha is ... perhaps THE WORST Nic Cage of them all ... and I love Con Air, so thanks for that one, Travis. Not to mention Matt's is awesome too ... Raising Arizona for the win ...

Seriously Sam, that costume is just TOO DISTURBING ... O.O ... this is some genuine nightmare fuel ... please don't wear THAT throughout the whole game ... fuck ... I'm starting to think that genuinely might be the case ...

I love how Liam DOES NOT ASK any of them to start mirroring his actions, Taliesin just starts it on his own and then Laura and Ashley start doing it all on THEIR own and it's adorable ... XD

Thank you all for addressing the problem with Sam's make-up ... that is gonna be SO HARD to ignore over thh course of the game, Samuel ...

Yup ... here we go ... the gameplay is ALREADY derailing and we're still on Matt's recap ... XD ... also I wonder how bad it's gonna be for Marisha once she has to start READING DICE ...

Nice crack at the Schumacher batsuits ...

Aha ... oh, so Ashton and Fearne have actually truly for real done the nasty? It's about fucking time, you two ...

Pancakes and waffles? Yay! The perfect start to any day ... oh, and cookies too? Nice one, Jester!

Travis INSTANTLY forgetting to use the newer Fjord accent instead of the older ... meanwhile Jester is TOTALLY already onto Ashton and Fearne ... and Liam's busy having a conversation with himself ... LOL

Chetney lives! Okay, then ...

Some confusion about what the plan is now, then ... clearly there's some fuzzy heads among the group after the night before ...

Imogen quickly draws a map ... Sam (as Veth): "How is it?" Ah hell ... first performance check of the night ... serviceable ... okay, then ...

Sending a message to Rashinna, then ... oh dear, are we having trouble with the count? And npw Jester's invading Imogen's mind with her intrusive thoughts ... oh boy ... watch Laura Bailey learning JUST what it's like being on the receiving end of another Laura Bailey character ... XD

Oh shit ... Rashinna hasn't gotten back to them yet ... Matthew, what's happened? Oh Matt Mercer ... you GIT!!! That was not funny ...

"Look for Gaz"? Hmmmmm ... the Villums? Okay, then ...

Dorian making a meta crack about their costumes when discussing the disguise idea ... LOL

Oh dear ... and now the disguise conversation becomes more serious as we're now uncovering the inherent problems of what available choices there actually ARE ... hmmmmmm ...

Laudna gives Sprinkle back to Jester ... who then tries to cover for the fact that Fjord accidentally DESTROYED PATE the night before ... O.O ... yeah ... here we go for Deception checks on BOTH OF THEM ... oh boy ...

Sprinkle is PLEADING FOR DEATH right now and I can't blame him ...

Pate returns! And it turns out he doesn't bear a grudge, clearly. Far as he's concerned it was just a macabre game ...

Turning into guards, then? Might be smart ... and some Bormodos for the smaller folk? Yes, that's smart ...

Good point ... IS THERE anybody upstairs in the store?

Yes, time enough for ONE Suck ... decisions, decisions ... something tells me Dusk Hunger might be worth holding onto, if I'm honest ... rollies, then? Hmmm ... Ashton, then ... okay ... goinf for Fire, then ... so he straps into the Harness and starts sucking up Dusk Hunger ... nuts ...

Some nice new effects for Ashton, then ... meanwhile Jester's now jealous about THEM not having a Harness too and immediately demands Caleb makes one ...

Caleb and Veth having a serious conversation while Sam is wearing THAT FACE ... ye gods ...

So ... try another one? 20% chance of the Harness breaking, but they ARE rolling towards the endgame ... hmmmm ... that;'s a yes, then ... and so ORYM is going to suck up Ishta, the very blade that killed his husdand AND father-in-law ... O.O

A permanent +2 to Wee Man's Dexterity? Holy shit ...

Does the Harness survive? Hmmmm ... it doesn't go bang YET ... but it was close ... hmmmmm ...

One more? Up to a 40% chance now ... maybe not, then ...

Yasha punches Braius in the face ... of course she does ... and he elbows her back ... hmmmm ... so ... that's just, like, a little pep-up, then?

Leaving the Tower, then ... so they're now all crammed in the cellar again ...

So they're going to teleport again, then ... hmmmm ... meanwhile Caleb activiates the disguises ... ruining Dorian's attempt at creating his own ... LOL

And Jester casts Pass Without a Trace ...

Zhesh! Hello there ... nice to see a familiar face ...

"Transference"? Hmmm ... I mean it sounds like an opportunity, really ...

Trickling out in groups, then ... and there's a storm out? THAT could be helpful, too ... the Dust Pit Delta, then? Sounds like a plan ...

Imogen and Orym leading the way through, then ...

Interesting ... a shrine to Exandria? Strange things to find here, all round ...

Planerider Ryn! She's here! Can they rescue her? Is this going to go down REALLY BAD?!!! O.O

So, planning a distraction while they try a Greater Restoration ... hmmmm ... this all sounds like apretty tall order ... I have a bad feeling this is gonna be a MAJOR distaster ...

Fjord creates a phantom red tornado while activating his Marine Layer ... oh boy ... here we go, then ... and they're creating general widespread PANIC ... meanwhile Imogen casts a blanket Telepathic Bond across the group ...

Ah ... so two of them are staying put ... great ... and now Dorian's getting in on the act ... oh, so it's actually WORKING? Hmmmmm ... okay, now what?

Caduceus tries out his Greater Restoration while it's all going off ... and now she's back ... missing a fucking arm! Calm Emotions? Hmmmmmm ... now what? Cure Wounds at Level 4? Let's see if THAT works ... O.O ... 25 points of healing ... and now he's trying to calm her down ... oh boy, this is all getting really chaotic all at once ... wait ... did she just TELEPORT AWAY?!!! Fuck ...

Imogen tries to Message Ryn ... oh boy ... she's in a random dark spot ... hmmmm ... so it was a Dimension Door? Meaning she's still close by ...

Oh crap ... something;s coming? Might be a good idea to get the fuck out of here ...

A full grown vidulch? SHIT!!! Oh, that's not good at all ... O.O

Okay, so ... looks like they dodged THAT bullet ... but there's more? Hmmmmmm ... so it's just CHAOS out here right now ... maybe they can continue to just sneak through, then ...

Jester messages Ryn ... oh my fucking gods ... this woman will go INSANE from this one ... oh ... so Ryn's just rolling with it? Okay ... guess she really IS a cool customer, that one ...

And now the storm's getting WORSE ... great ... time to move, then ...

Watcher Amido? Hey! Yeah, another familiar face ... this is their way in, then ...

So they just have to find a way to tunnel through into the tunnels, then? Hmmmm ... Jester turns herself into ... a diremole? Really? Intriguing ... Veth is not convinced this is actually gonna work ... I dunno, it looks all kinds of intimidating ... okay, this seems to be working out after all ...

So ... that worked, then ... the way is open. Braius is impressed.

Great ... this doesn't look all that promising any more ... can they still get through here ... oh ... okay, maybe they still can, then ... yeah, that's it ... the city itself ... so there's just the window? Which is WAY UP IN THE AIR ... crap ... maybe not, then ...

Okay, so NOW what are they gonna do?

Imogen sends a Message to Gaz ... oh boy ... I forgot what he sounded like, Matt that is BONKERS ... LOL

Thankfully Orym's RIDICULOUS Perception saves the day again ... so THAT'S the way, then ... and now a return of Taste of Tal'dorei ... XD

Damn ... Dorian has a point here ... DO THEY have a viable escape plan if the Moon ... EXPLODES?!!! O.O

I love how Caduceus' abject terror is everybody else's perfectly chilled ... LOL

So ... they're REALLY going to just DROP DOWN from here? Seriously?

Oh ... Arcane Gate? Smart ... go Fjord! That's the ticket ... and Jester just INSTANTLY SWOONS over how awesome her future husband is right now ... :3

Group Deception check ... hmmmmm ... and EVERYBODY except Robbie has to roll TWICE ... oof ...

Okay ... trying to make their way as inconspicuously as possible through the streets ...

Oh hello ... GAZ!!! Nice to finally see you again ... phew!

So ... CAN WE trust him? Is he on the level or IS HE a traitor like some suspect? O.O

Sounds like Liliana gave him a hell of a going-over ... and he's actually SPEAKING to them verbally rather than through telepathy ... wow ...

Accelerating plans, then ... but they do still need SOME flexibility ... hmmmmmm ...

Fearne goes to listen in on Gaz making contact with Rashinna ... 17? Nice roll, Ash ... oh, this sounds like quite the journey ... watch out, Fearne ...

Wow ... Gaz wasn't very bright BEFORE, but now he really is kind of DUMB, isn't he? But yeah, seems he really is on the level, at least ...

Jester offers Gaz a cookie ... awwwwwwwww ... and he's NEVER had sugar before ... wow ... :3

Dorian gets Gaz to explain the WHY the Volitiona are doing what they're doing ... oh boy ... his extremely simplistic explanation is kind of adorable ...

Meanwhile Jeter's created a sugar junkie ...

"The Hallowed Cage"? Try not to jump ahead in the narrative, guys! O.O

Short rest? Short rest. Yeah ...

Meanwhile they do NEED TO contact Vox Machina NOW ... yeah ... might be best. MAKE CONTACT guys!

Imogen Messages Allura ... so they're ALL READY ALREADY?!!! Okay, so ... best to make a start ASAP?

So ... whatever they're doing, start in one hour? Hmmmm ...

JESTER makes the reply ... oh boy ... yeah, Allura reacts VERY MUCH as anyone would with one of HER Messages ...

Going to break, then ... and when they're back it's going to be from the perspective of VOX MACHINA!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

Oh my gods ... the pantyhose and the diapers ... Matt, you cheeky bugger ... XD

Only FOUR at the table? Right now it's just Laura, Ashley, Travis and Marisha ... in their ORIGINAL seats? Cool ...

So it's just KEYLETH right now ... hmmmm ...

She goes looking for Vex ... oh boy ... this should be fun ...

Okay, so ... we're a little back in time, then? Interesting ...

Yeah, I think BOTH OF THEM want to get Vax back ... well, at least as much back as they CAN get him, at least ...

Man ... too much FEELS right now, guys ...

So Grog and PIke'll likely both be in the pub? Yeah, sounds about right ...

They haven't HEARD from Scanlan yet? Hmmmmmm ...

Keyleth is covered in sticky bees ... O.O

Yeah, the titles were SO COOL, KIki. You did SO FUCKING GREAT there ... XD

A CLERICAL pub? Fascinating ...

As expected, Grog and Pike are already pretty far in their cups ... XD ... drunk Pike is always fun ... and they're up to old tricks, again ...

Grog thinks "piety" means he has pies ... yeah, that's about right ... LOL

Keyleth conjures a goodberry pie for Grog! Awwww ... :3

So ... Pike and Scanlan are going through another fivorce? And she can't even remember WHICH NUMBER it is? Blimey ... and so they CAN'T get hold of him because of it? Great ...

Jeanine? Awwww ... she sounds very sweet ...

Oh ... the Earrings? Neat ... yeah, try that, then ...

Yeah, Percy's a really good dad ...

Holy shit ... Marisha's having a hard time remembering how to actually PLAY a druid now ... it's been a while, of course ... so she just tries to SCRY on Scanlan instead ... which is resisted? Nuts ...

Pike x Scanlan = "it's complicated" ... like, the very DEFINITION ...

Matt's just having so much fun just WATCHING Travis getting to be Grog again ... XD

Tary? REALLY?!!! That'd be pretty sweet ...

Wow ... even VEX can't remember who Tary got married to ... XD

Flamespeaker Cerkonos? The leader of the Fire Ashari? Hmmmmm ... might be worth a go ...

Oh shit ... ROBBIE'S playing as Cerkonos? Oh, that's so cool! And yeah, Robbie Daymond really is INCAPABLE of playing a character who isn't, like, A TOTAL SNACK, and I love it ... XD

"Sir Grogory Strongjaw" ... Keyleth: "He added a few syllables." Yes. Yes he did ...

Nice going of Vex to just cut to the chase while Keyleth's fumbling talking him into doing something he was ALREADY planning on doing anyway ... XD

Pike's like me, thoroughly enraged by the idea of not finishing a book ... O.O

WHITESTONE!!! Welcome home!

And the Sun Tree! D'awwwwwwww ... :3

The Slayer's Cake! Yay!

A half-elven girl? Is this who I think it is? Oh my gods IT IS!!! Vesper! Hiiiiiiii!!! Oh my gods ... and she's ALREADY swooning over Cerkonos ... XD

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwww! Gwen! Hi sweety! :3

Percival! Yay! Taliesin returns to the table ... meanwhile is the old grouch mellowing a little? Or is it just when he's around Vex?

SCANLAN was Cerkonos' favourite? XD I like that ...and he's VERY BAD at the sexual jokes ... which in his case come across as slightly more risque dad jokes, clearly ... LOL

Oh ... so Scanlan WAS travelling with Dr Dranzel's troupe? At least until Percy stopped caring to keep track of him, anyway.

So Keyleth tries to Scry on Kaylie instead ... not a whole LOT of luck there ... apparently she's asleep ...

Crisis Orbs? Hmmmmmm ...

"The Triple" ... oh, I like that. That's very effective ...

Pike tries to Message Scanlan ... and the others try to convince her to say she's HORNY for only him ... I mean yeah, that might work ...

Matt calls Sam backl to the table ... okay, so that means Scanlan's answering her, then ... okay ... is he having sex right now? At least he said he was in Wildemount ...

Oh boy ... she really is SO BAD AT THIS and I love it ... LOL

Ttat's a pretty non-specific location still ... but at least he's clearly NOT having intercourse, then ...

Pike: "He asxked if it was a booty call. I don't want to respond to that." Grog: "Well we are actively trying to contact him." Pike: "You're so smart, Grog."

Homing in on Scanlan and the troupe ... looks like they MIGHT be able to make it, then ...

Wow, Percy and Vex' kids really are all just COLLECTIVELY adorable, aren't they? :3

The Mask? Percy's mask? Is No Mercy Percy coming along for this ride?

Grog reverts to type and immediately gives himself a massive psychic shock ... Percy you clever and very evil bugger ... you have such a dark sense of humour, I love it ... XD

Awwwww ... I love Percy and Keyleth's friendship vibe SO MUCH ... XD

Setting out through the Sun Tree, then ... and Keyleth of course HAS TO still give a big of ceremony for their departure. And a fond farewell to the De Rolo kids ... awwwww ... but it's also giving me feels ... O.O

I really do hope this isn't the last time one or both of them will see their children ...

Stepping through, then ... and Grog tosses little Vax his petrified poop ... oh boy ...

Stopping the troupe before they get too far away ... and now Vox Machina are finally back together again ... plus one ...

Oooooooooh ... a bit of a glow-up for Scanlan, then ... wait ... oh my fucking gods ... HE'S A FUCKING CENTAUR?!!! Oh ... THEY'RE ALL CENTAURS?!!! What the fuck, guys? O.O

It's TRUE POLYMORPH? Oh shit ... isn't that, like, REALLY HARD to remove?

Cerkonos loves the idea that Scanlan now has a genuine horse cock ... wow ...

Trying to explain what's happening and what's at stake ... oh, yeah ... actually that might work. Vax IS Scanlan's best friend, telling him about him being trapped in the orb would probably do the trick ...

Come on you two, just MAKE UP already ...

I can't believe it's actually GROG who convinces him to come ... but yeah, that worked ...

And THAT'S it for the night? Cool. Does that mean we're starting wit them next time? I could get behind that, definitely ... this has been SO MUCH FUN ...

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