#i even forgive him for ripping off one of my arms before i recruited him. he was just a bit too silly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wlwmarvelenthusiast · 4 years ago

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Could you do carol x fem!reader but like so angsty that I can cry myself to sleep even tho I’m on antidepressants and can’t feel anything but plz let there b a happy ending thank u so much love u

I'm not sure if this qualifies as angst but here's a draft I had that I edited a little to fit the request. I hope it does the trick :)

It Wasn't For You

Summary: A mission gone horribly wrong drives a wedge between you and Carol. Is the bond fixable, or are the things you both said unforgivable?

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2,998

You weren't sure what that emotion was that was boiling in your blood as you stormed back to your apartment. Was it worry? Were you just upset? You let it sit with you a moment as you unlocked the door. It wasn't either one of those things. It was rage. It was hot, unbridled rage. The cause of it was a certain Avenger who you had thought loved you enough to not do what she'd done. Clearly, she hadn't.

She was right behind you, stepping through the doorway before you could slam it behind you. You growled under your breath as she invited herself into your home, closing the door only once she was in. You didn't even bother turning to face her. You went straight to the bar and poured yourself a drink, not offering her one and not planning to let her touch a single drop of your alcohol. You took a sip of the hard liquor.

"Would you listen to me for one goddamn second?" She huffed out.

"I listened to you for multiple seconds, Carol. It doesn't change any facts."

"I did it for you!"

"I don't give a fuck."

Truly and honestly, you didn't. What she'd done was immoral, infuriating, and wholly unforgivable. She could get down on her knees right there in front of the bar and you wouldn't have batted an eyelash. It wouldn't be enough. In fact, you were convinced that nothing would be enough for you to forgive her. It didn't matter how much you had loved her yesterday or the day before. It didn't how much you loved her today.

"I'd do it again," she assured.

"Then I would do this again," you turned to finally face her, eyes locking with the brown ones that could usually instill a sense of peace in your chest, but today seemed to have no effect. "We're done, Carol. I think it'd be best if you left, please."

You could practically hear her heart dropping into her stomach. There was a part of you that ached to bring her into your arms and soothe that hurt look off her face. You knew better. That piece of you would fade eventually. You'd learn not to love her anymore. In fact, you could probably learn how to hate her. The boiling rage that was flowing through your very veins could assist you with learning that.

"Please-"

"I'm asking you to go," you said, firmer this time. "Please, get out."

If she'd had a tail to tuck between her legs, she absolutely would have. She didn't even bother to protest again. The expression you'd plastered on your face made it clear it wouldn't have done anything anyway. She slowly made toward the door. Her hand touched the doorknob and she cast her gaze back to you once more. You didn't dare let your features soften. You could've sworn there were tears in her eyes as she turned the doorknob and left.

You breathed out as the door closed behind her, finally daring to let tears streak down your cheeks.

You stared down the super soldier, neither of you wanting to speak first. He was the team leader though, and basically your boss. You knew even if he was the first one to speak, you were going to be the one spilling everything. You didn't want to, not one bit, but you knew you were going to have to anyway. You wondered if you had the strength to talk about it. You wondered if he had the strength to listen to your recollection of events.

"I just need to know what happened so when they ask-"

"Fuck, Steve! Natasha fucking died and we're sitting here having this stupid conversation," you shouted, rising to your feet, tossing the papers in front of you off the table, and moving to the window. "I have a goddamn funeral to plan!"

"Look, neither of us wants to talk about this, but we have to!"

You sighed, clasping your hands behind your back as you looked out at the compound grounds. There were agents training, running laps around the building. Sam was the one guiding them, seeming to enjoy barking orders at them. You tore your gaze away from a sight that seemed to have lost its beauty now that Natasha wasn't there alongside the Falcon, chuckling with him as they watched the new recruits huff and puff.

"It was me or her and Carol chose me," you finally gave. "I was what would have been fatally outnumbered and Natasha was down. She was in the jet. Carol could have either gone and stopped the jet from crashing, or she could pull me out and neutralize the enemy. She chose the latter. That's what happened. Happy?"

"I need your report."

"I need to plan Natasha's funeral!"

You stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind you. You let out the breath that had been stuck in your chest, leaning your head against the wall and shutting your eyes. It hadn't been an easy couple of days. You'd have been surprised if you'd gotten more than three hours of sleep in the last three nights combined. Somehow, though, you still didn't feel tired. You felt a lot of things, but that wasn't one of them.

As if losing Natasha wasn't hard enough, you were also grappling with crippling amounts of anger and guilt. Natasha should have been the one that was saved. She was the obvious choice, and yet here you stood, and Natasha was gone. The anger, though? That was all for Carol. She had promised you that her relationship with you wouldn't have affected her at work, but it had. She'd saved you when she should have saved Natasha and all of those people in the impact zone.

"Can we talk?"

Speak of the devil.

You opened your eyes, using your shoulder blades to push yourself away from the wall. Immediately your entire stance got defensive. You crossed your arms over your chest. You watched as she searched your eyes in hopes of being able to read them like she usually did, but knew it would be to no avail. You didn't want her to know anything about what you were feeling. She didn't deserve to know what you were feeling. All she deserved was to be on the receiving end of your rage.

"No. I told you we're done, Danvers. We don't need to talk anymore."

"I'm not letting you go that easy."

"You don't have a damn choice!" You laughed humourlessly. "You can't stop me. You don't own me, and you definitely don't own my heart."

With that, you stepped around her, walking toward the doors of the compound. You could hear her footsteps trailing behind you. You didn't bother to turn around and glance at her, or even open your mouth to tell her to go away. You just let her follow you as if she were going to get something out of you. She wasn't going to. The last thing you wanted to do was hear some sort of failed explanation as to why she'd decided to save you. You knew why. It was because she couldn't separate home and work. You never should have trusted her to be able to.

You stepped out into the sunlight, cursing the sky for being so bright and sunny when it felt like it should be dark and gloomy. A storm cloud and roaring thunder might appropriately match the way you felt inside. Instead, you were forced to pull your sunglasses down over your eyes as you headed back toward your car, feeling you could use the walk toward it instead of making it come to you- a feature Tony has insisted you needed. As you arrived though, Carol finally reacted.

"Jesus Christ, would you hear me out?" She said, anger in her voice as she grabbed your wrist.

"Let go of me."

"Talk to me."

"I already said no. Let go of me," you demanded.

You ripped your arm out of her grasp, glaring at her as she retracted her arm. You unlocked your car, getting into the front seat. You didn't even glance at Carol as you started the engine, put the car into drive, and pulled out of your spot, leaving her behind.

It was early when you woke up the next morning, and immediately your day went different than normal. Your eyebrows furrowed when you stepped out of your bedroom and found an envelope slipped under your apartment door. It was completely unmarked. You knew the danger of anything unmarked. You were an Avenger. You couldn't find it in you to care, though. Without Carol's arms around you, you tossed and turned. Losing Natasha hurt so much more without Carol there to hold you through it. But it was her fault.

You reached down and picked up the envelope. You sliced it open with the knife that was resting on the table beside the front door. What you pulled out was a single piece of lined paper. It had clearly been ripped out of someone's notebook, the torn rings hanging off the left side. You unfolded the paper and immediately recognized Carol's handwriting inside. You crumpled it up and prepared to throw it, but then you hesitated.

She wasn't there. You didn't have to talk to her. You didn't want to talk to her one bit, but you were dying to hear her side of the story. This way, you didn't have to risk breaking and losing yourself to emotion in front of her. You uncrumpled the paper and held it out in front of you. You took a deep breath and let your gaze drift over Carol's familiar handwriting once before you moved your eyes to the top of the page.

Y/N,

I really hope you didn't throw this out. I suppose if you're reading this, you didn't.

I know you don't want to talk to me. If I were you, I might not want to talk to me either. Your best friend died and it is entirely and completely my fault. I know that. It is my fault. I could have saved her, and I didn't. I just need you to know why.

I know you think that I broke my promise. I promised you, Steve, and every Avenger, including Natasha, that I would never let our relationship affect our work. It must seem like I failed to do that. I didn't break that promise. I love you. I do. But I wouldn't do that.

I knew that saving Natasha was more likely to be successful than saving you. Saving her would have meant saving those three civilians too. Not saving you, though, meant that they would have gotten away, and it meant they would have killed dozens of our agents on their way out. There were so many of them. They outgunned our men by too much. I didn't do it for you. I did it for them.

It breaks my heart that I couldn't save her. If I could have given my life for hers, I'd have done it in a heartbeat. If choosing her over you had been the right choice, I'd have done it. I promise you that.

I love you, even if you can't love me back.

- C

Tears spilled from your eyes as the empty casket was lowered into the ground. When a hand brushed ever so lightly against yours, you stiffened. You glanced for a moment over at the woman beside you. Those brown eyes were locked on you as well, for a moment, before turning back to the burial. You took a deep breath before moving, threading your fingers between hers. You pulled a little closer to her.

Maybe you should have listened to her. That letter you'd received yesterday had been a lot to think about. You'd been so angry with Carol because she'd closed you over Natasha and you'd been selfish enough to think it was because she couldn't separate her feelings for you from work. When you'd found out that wasn't the case, it had taken away all your reason to be angry at her. What happened to Natasha wasn't her fault.

Once the red had faded, you'd realized how stupid you'd been being. Carol had obviously been hurting and you'd been gatekeeping pain because you'd been blaming yours on her. The guilt stewing in her gut was probably millions of times worse than yours. She'd had to make that choice out in the field. It was the right choice, you saw now, but that would never matter. You knew how that felt, and you'd pushed her away and left her to deal with it alone. You wouldn't blame her if she couldn't forgive you for that.

When the funeral ended and people started heading toward the reception, you stayed glued to the spot. You could tell Carol wasn't sure what to do. Her hand had tried to pull away to give you space, but this time it was you that didn't let her leave you. The hand that was in hers tightened enough that she got the message. You had to wonder if she'd stay to hear it. As always, though, she was better than you. Her efforts to move away stopped.

You stayed silent for a moment, standing in that position and wondering what to say. There might not have been words enough to express just how sorry you were. There might not have been anything you could say that would make her forgive you. You deserved that, though. You broke up with her. There was no obligation for her to take you back and you hadn't given her any reason to want to. You were the one who had pushed.

"I'm sorry, Carol," you muttered, knowing full well that wasn't enough. "I'm sorry for everything. I was selfish."

"I get it," she admitted. "It's okay."

She was better than you.

But it wasn't okay. What you'd done to her was far from okay. You'd taken one look at the guilty relief in her eyes after that mission and decided that she'd sacrificed Natasha for you. She was allowed to be relieved. You would have been, if the roles had been reversed. Just because you lost Natasha, didn't mean Carol wasn't allowed to be a little relieved that the love of her life survived. Now, you didn't get to be that.

"Baby... Carol, I just wanted you to know that I read what you wrote and I'm sorry for how I'd reacted. I'm sorry I didn't stop to hear you out before that and I'm sorry I pushed you away when you were obviously hurting."

She dared to pull you a little closer. "You can still call me Baby."

You had to let out a light chuckle at that, despite the tears on your face. You wondered if you were mourning Natasha or your relationship with Carol. Whatever the case, she reached out and brushed the pad of her thumb across your cheek. You couldn't resist leaning a little harder into her hand. She got the message, opening her hand and cupping your cheek, her palm pressing delicately against your skin and her thumb continued to trace your cheekbone.

"You were hurting too," she assured quietly. "You reacted that way because you were grieving. You needed someone to blame."

"It shouldn't have been you."

"I was easy," she said, hands sliding down so they were both in yours. "I could have saved her and I didn't. Whatever reasoning I might have had, that was the truth."

"I'm supposed to love you."

"You don't love me?" She questioned.

"I do! Of course I love you, Carol. But I haven't been great at doing that recently. I should have-"

"You love me and you were grieving your friend. That's it. And I love you too," she said, squeezing your hands. "Can we stop being broken up now?"

She was standing in front of you, a tiny smile on her lips, and forgiving you. She was asking you to take her back, like it wasn't supposed to be you on your knees begging for her forgiveness. You stepped forward, taking your hands out of hers so you could instead put them on her cheeks, and pulled her toward you until your lips had met. She kissed you back immediately, her hands finding your hips. She pulled away from you.

"So yes?" She said, a hint of teasing in her voice. "Because Natasha got us together and breaking up for good over her casket would not be honouring her memory very well."

"No, it wouldn't," you said, leaning your head onto her shoulder. You looked down at the wooden casket. "I miss her so much already, Carol."

"I know. Me too, Honey."

Your heart felt the slightest bit lighter now. You would've given anything for Natasha to be okay. The fact that she was gone still felt like a knife through the chest. At least now, though, you had Carol to hold you at night and kiss the tears off your cheeks. She had you to do the same for her. That was all either of you could do. Now, only time could lessen the pain. Carol put her arms around you and held you closer.

Just as you went to tell her once again that you loved her, her phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket, frowning at the number that was coming from outside the country. She showed it to you and you took the phone from her.

"Hello?"

"Did it work? Do they think I'm dead?" Said the so familiar voice.

You glanced up at Carol, sure the shock on her face matched yours.

"Natasha, what the hell-"

"We've got a new mission. Are you and your lovebird up for it?"

Carol kissed your cheek and then spoke to the woman on the phone. "Absolutely."

#carol danvers #captain marvel #carol danvers x reader #marvel #mcu #wlw #lesbian #pride

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goodgirlofglory · 4 years ago

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Three times Steve defended you, and one time you defended him / One-shot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 5,5k

Warnings: 18+ content, Explicit sexual content, Explicit language, light descriptions of smut, light descriptions of injuries, light descriptions of violence, some description of blood, kind of slow burn but not really at all.

Summary: Three times during your initiation into the Avengers agents program where Steve came to your aid and defended you, and one time you defended Steve. Along the way you find each other.

Author’s note: This one has been a personal pleasure to write. I love thinking of Steve and Y/N as having a hank for banter with each other, at the same time as they appreciate and admire each other. I’m just a real sucker for respect, y’all<3 (Not been proofread by anyone but me, so all mistakes are mine)

Part 1

Fire was raining down around you, the blood pumping in your ears as fear and adrenaline coursed through your body.

You had told them it was far too early to bring you on a mission, but Steve had insisted after you’d done so well in training, quickly climbing the ranks despite being just a recruit.

Besides, this should have only been an intelligence gathering mission, in stealth, during a time of which no goons were supposed to be on the drug cartel base.

Clearly not, you thought as you crouched behind a pillar, bullets chipping away at the stone.

You could hear the fighting around you, but panic clouded your mind in a hazy fog so you couldn’t pinpoint where, your body stiff as you curled in on yourself.

This was all wrong. You were going to die on this hellish mission, and more horrifyingly, disappoint Steve, who’d put his trust in you.

Actual tears blurred your sight as you clutched the gun in your hand.

“There’s one left, he’s coming towards you, Y/N,” you heard Steve call through your earpiece

Then, through your tears you saw a figure peer around the corner, gun in hand.

You knew you needed to shoot him, but your body didn’t obey you.

You heard your name shouted as the goon pointed his gun toward you and the ear thrumming sound of the gunshot jolted your body. Your eyes shut tightly as you saw your life flash before you.

But the pain you expected didn’t come, and instead you heard the distinct zing of Captain America’s shield flying through the air. A few grunts followed before you tentatively opened your eyes.

The goon lay sprawled on the floor, lifeless, and before you Steve was kneeling, dressed in the stealth suit that made his baby blue eyes pop. He was looking at you with worried eyes.

“Y/N, are you alright?” he asked, breathing hard.

You nodded, about to answer when you noticed the bullet hole in his suit. Your hands shot out in panic, forcefully groping at his abdomen, going to apply pressure.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, not that

“Oh my god, Captain, no, no, no,” you rambled, thoughts racing, eyes wide.

He gently took your hands in his and caught your wild eyes with his, gentle and calm.

“Don’t worry. Bulletproof, remember,” he said, nodding calmly, and you nodded furiously, your mind trying to calm itself through your panic.

He smiled fondly at you, and you noticed how everything was silent around you, the fighting finally over. Then it hit you.

“Steve, you took the bullet for me!? You shouldn’t, you idiot! I-I’m just a recruit, I..” you rushed out, guilt screaming inside your head. If Captain America died on some pointless mission protecting you, some no-name recruit, you would never forgive yourself.

He was chuckling now, your hands still in his.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. I think I know what I’m doing, I’ve been doing this for a while, ya’know,” he said, not sharing any of your worry, but looking profusely amused by it.

“Plus, I was the one who pressed you into this mission. I am responsible for you,” he added seriously, and your stomach flipped at the words. You tried to swallow the fluttering of butterflies.

He was your mentor and your trainer, nothing more, but his words still lingered on your mind for days.

Part 2

The earth-shattering explosion ripped you from your dreams of baby blue eyes, and a split second later, the floor gave out under you.

It took a moment to remember who the hell and where the hell you were.

It was in the middle of the night, and you’d been sleeping peacefully in the recruits lodging area of the compound, in the room you shared with four other girls.

You fell down, the floor crumbling and falling with you. The bed hit the floor beneath your level with a thud that had your head whipping backwards painfully. You had fallen down into the recruit sparring gym, empty at night.

The wooden bed split in half with a loud shriek, and you slumped down the crack, only cushioned by the mattress, your cover having been blown away by the force of the explosion.

Another searing jolt of pain shot through you as a heavy piece of concrete landed on your leg, and you screamed in pain. Above you, you heard your roommates shout your name, but the rumbling of the building verging on collapse was overwhelming and deafening.

“GET AWAY! GET OUT!” you shouted up at your friends, tears in your eyes now.

They disappeared and you tried with bloody hands to move the boulder. It wouldn’t bunch even a bit. Around you the whole building shook and rumbled. You could feel that it wasn’t long until it would crumble.

You realized you were stuck, bleeding and about to be crushed by a thousand tons of concrete.

“Y/N!” you heard a familiar voice from above shout.

Looking up at the hole in the ceiling above, you saw Steve standing, his shield on his arm.

You weakly protested as he jumped down, landing on the bed beside you, carefully avoiding the boulder pinning your ankle.

You could feel your mind blurring over in pain and shock, barely registering as Steve knelt down close, a warm and steady hand on your shoulder.

“Stay with me, Y/N, I’m gonna get you out of here,” he assured you hurriedly, his voice the most worried you’d ever heard him.

“Steve,” you sobbed, trying to reach out to him. He grabbed your hand in his, and in a move that was so surprising it snapped you back to consciousness, he kissed it. It was quick, barely there and kinda panicked, but you were sure he did it.

The deafening rumble of the building dying snapped you back to urgency.

“I’m sorry, this is gonna hurt,” he said as he released your hand and reached down to the boulder squeezing your leg. He heaved it off, and a scream ripped itself from your lungs.

He was quickly on you again, dragging you by the arm from where you lay squeezed between the two pieces of your cracked bed.

You wrapped your arm around his broad shoulder, noticing for the first time that he was shirtless, only wearing a pair of grey joggers and his shield, barefoot. He wrapped a strong arm around your waist, his body a soothing, warm presence against yours.

“Hold on,” he shouted as the ceiling cracked open, and then he was jumping through the window to your right, glass shattering around you.

You hurled through the chill, night air, Steve landing gracefully on his feet on the ground, one story below where you’d jumped out. Your feet dangling in the air, he held you close to his body as he ran across the lawn, and you heard the building crashing down behind you, the noise getting alarmingly close.

He threw a look back before stopping to a halt. Disposing you on the ground, you landed on your ass, looking up at his standing form. Behind him you saw a dust cloud charge at you. He kneeled down, holding his shield above his head as he curled you in against him with an arm around your shoulders.

He was shielding you with his naked upper body as the cloud enveloped you, and deep in your chest, through the shock and fear, astonishment and a whole lot of admiration bloomed.

You curled into his embrace, putting both hands up to support the shield as stray rocks and debris hit it.

You stayed like that for a while as the building settled in a collapsed ruin behind you, the dust cloud slowly dissolving. Your faces were so close, panting at each other, chests heaving. You remembered suddenly, you were only wearing a tiny tank top and panties, and despite the situation literally being a life or death matter, you blushed.

Steve put down his shield, throwing it on the ground as his arm released its grip around your shoulder.

You locked eyes with him, and in that moment he was everything. Tears of gratitude spilled forward as his hands held your shoulders, your own hands spread out on his naked chest, feeling his heart hammer against his ribcage.

“You saved me,” you whispered, “thank you. I don’t know how to thank you, Steve, you saved my life, ” you continued, whimpering.

“Are you alright? We need to get that leg looked at immediately,” he said, averting his eyes slightly, the tips of his ears pink. But that’s probably due to the exploding building, you reminded yourself.

As soon as he said it, the pain in your leg shot to the front of your brain, and you looked down to find a long, bleeding gash along the front of your ankle. You tried to move it and a startled, pained cry left your mouth.

Steve flinched at the sound, before quickly scooping you up, one arm under your knees and the other under your shoulder. You moaned in pain as he got to his feet.

“Your shield,” you said weakly as he started walking towards the compound again.

“It’s not important,” he said without a beat, catching your eyes in an intense look that had your heart fluttering.

You later found out Bruce Banner’s Hulk had caught him off guard as he’d worked in the lab two stories under the gym, which had led to the entire wing of recruit lodgings collapsing. There had been no casualties, though, miraculously - you and Steve being the closest.

Again he had saved your life, ridiculously risking his own in the process. You had thanked him over and over as they wheeled you into surgery, grabbing his hand and kissing it like he had yours, hoping he understood how grateful you were.

Your friends giggled as they huddled around your hospital bed. It was your eighth day in the med bay.

“You know he came straight to our room, right?” Helena said, giving you a giddy smirk.

“Oh come on, he was certainly checking on everybody,” you dismissed.

“No no, Dean said he saw him sprinting up the hall, barely even telling people to get out before he reached our room,” Sandy corrected, and the girls giggled again.

You were blushing profusely, trying so hard to fight the thought that Captain America, Steve Rogers had come specifically to check on you once there was danger. You were kind of a special protegé, as you’d earned the privilege of sparring with him one on one, but he had been nothing but professional towards you. Suffice to say, you didn’t feel like that justified him coming for you and only you in times of danger.

“Yeah, and I saw how he threw himself down that hole to you. Like nothing else mattered,” Cindy added dramatically.

“You guys, stop it, now you’re just hyping the story up to something it wasn’t,” you tried, but you were giggling with them. “Our room was at the end of the hall, closest to the lab. He probably just figured that was the part that would collapse first,” you added, forcing yourself to believe it.

“Oh well, I don’t know, he’s been here every day since you were admitted, right?” Sandy pushed, and now you were the one giggling, glancing at the flowers in the corner that he’d brought you the day before.

“Yes,” you admitted, “so you better scatter, for he usually comes around this time,” you told them pointedly, swatting Helena’s ass.

They kissed you on the cheek before skipping from the room, but you heard them greet “Captain” up the hallway.

Your heart fluttered as Steve Rogers appeared around the corner, smiling fondly as he let himself in.

Part 3

The music was loud, the room cheery and filled with talk and laughter.

Your recruitment was finally over, and you were officially agents-in-training, which was cause for a huge, fucking party.

Everyone was there, including several members of the Avengers. Natasha was sipping on a beer in the corner, surrounded by a crowd listening intently to a story she was telling.

Sam was playing pool across the room, crushing every guy that tried him on.

But most importantly, Steve was there, wearing a ridiculously gorgeous blue button up, the two buttons on the top undone, making your mind raise with promiscuity. You had finally bitten the bullet and admitted your feelings. To yourself, that was, and no one else.

Your eyes met three times over the crowd before he finally came over.

“Good evening,” he greeted you cheerfully.

“Hi,” you answered, suddenly all hot and bothered.

“Great party,” he said as he took a stand next to you, looking out on the sea of happy partiers, drunk off their asses.

“Yeah, I’m surprised you’re here. Isn’t Golden Girls having a rerun tonight?” you teased.

He looked at you with playful annoyance.

“Yeah, and I suppose it’s past your bedtime, young lady,” he answered and you threw your head back in a surprised laughter, not expecting him to banter back.

He was looking at you with a fond smile when your laughter turned to a giggle. A moment passed as you looked at each other, and you felt yourself glowing under his gaze.

“Did you get my flowers?” he asked then, and you blushed at his abruptness. You’d been nervous about bringing it up.

“Yeah, and you really don’t need to keep sending those. It’s been a while since I got out from the med bay now,” you said, trying not to reveal how flustered you were.

“I know, I know. I just seem to keep getting you in trouble,” he said, looking down at the beer in his hand.

“Steve, you’re the one who’s always saving me from trouble,” you said, putting your hand on his wrist to catch his attention again, “I hope you know how grateful I am,” you added, trying to convey how genuine you were.

His eyes met yours with such emotion, your breath caught in your throat. The room suddenly felt empty, the music fading to a lull.

You swore he inclined his head slightly before you abruptly removed your hand, straightening yourself. He snapped back to himself, clearing his throat awkwardly before looking around. You did as well, relieved when you saw no eyes on you. You did miss Natasha's knowing eyes peek at the two of you from the corner of the room.

“Excuse me,” you murmured as you stepped away, flustered, your heart hammering in your chest.

You found the balcony out from the party empty, the cold autumn air cooling your suddenly flushed skin.

Was he about to kiss you?!

You stood by the railing, enjoying the fresh air when you heard someone come out on the balcony. Your heart skipped a beat.

“What do we have here?” a slurring voice shouted, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head when you realized it was Jason, a fellow recruit from your year; mediocre fighter, arrogant asshat.

“And how are you tonight, Jason?” you asked, not bothering to mask your annoyance at his presence.

“Checking out the meat, sweetcheeks,” he answered, smugness dripping from his voice.

Before you managed to turn around and give him your best death stare, a hand reached up your bare thigh, pushing the flimsy black fabric of your minidress up. You yelped and spun around, smacking his hand away.

“Oh, don’t be like that, pretty girl. I know you were checking me out earlier,” he said, pouting sarcastically as he moved to pin you against the railing.

You squirmed at his intrusion into your personal space, mild shock settling like a sting in your chest. His breath stunk of booze, the rest of him of sweat and a nauseating amount of body spray.

“Jason, back off. I don’t know what you think you saw, but I’m not interested,” you tried to tell him authoritatively, but you sounded so small. This had never happened to you before, and your head swam with thoughts about what you should do.

“Then why are you looking so sexy tonight, teasing me in this little dress,” he said with a sneer, ignoring your discomfort completely.

You were about to lash out when a hand on his shoulder had him pausing, his hands trying to pull yours away from where they were covering your chest.

“She said back off,” you heard Steve say, and the tone of his voice told you he wasn’t pleased.

Jason chuckled bitterly, turning on stumbling feet to look up at Steve, towering above him with a scowl on his face. His expression sent a cold shiver down your spine. You had never seen him this angry before.

“Why don’t you back off and let a brother get some,” Jason answered, seemingly stupidly unaware of the deathly aura emitting from Steve’s looming form.

“I’m only going to say this once: Get lost or you’re out,” Steve said, stare cold as ice, tone dead serious.

Jason seemed to get it then, and with a pathetic huff, he scurried away.

“Whatever,” you heard him mutter as he entered the party again. A few eyes from inside were on you, paying attention to the perceived standoff happening between a simple recruit and THE Captain America. Over you.

You released the breath you were holding as soon as the door slid closed behind Jason, and Steve’s expression softened to one of mild concern.

“You okay?” he asked, and you could barely look in his eyes as you collected yourself.

“Yeah. Thanks, Steve. I could have taken him though,” you tried to lie. Steve let you keep the lie.

“I don’t doubt it, but somehow it didn’t feel right that you should,” he said gravely.

“Maybe, but that’s life,” you stated.

“Well, not when I’m around,” he answered after a moment, and you lifted your eyes to his. They shone with something akin to protection, and you felt warm again under his gaze.

“You wanna get back to the party?” he asked, breaking the building tension. The air seemed so intense between you two tonight, sizzling with something new.

“No, actually, I think I wanna turn in. Kinda tired,” you excused, but really you were burning inside from a new found hunger for Steve you knew you couldn’t keep in check much longer.

He nodded, biting his lip slightly.

“Walk you back to your room? I don't like the way Jason looked at you,” he said, voice heavy with suspicion, and before you could think, you nodded.

You were sort of panicking as you trekked the empty hallways together. Everyone had seen you leave together, and you were sweating bullets as you walked in silence, Steve’s broad figure a sizzling presence to your left.

He kept the smalltalk sweet and light, and you knew you were being irrationally nervous.

Outside your new dormroom, the tension grew thick again.

You bit your lip, looking up at Steve as he bid you goodnight with a charming smile.

“Eh, Steve,” you called out as he turned to walk away.

He turned back with a quizzical look.

You stepped up to him, and he seemed acutely aware of your presence as you came close, your hands landing tentatively on his forearms as they hung at his side.

“What’re you…?” he started, but trailed off when he looked into your eyes.

You inclined your head slightly, not even knowing what you were doing anymore.

He inclined his head just the tiniest bit in response, and then you were both leaning in.

Your lips met in a gentle, tiny kiss, your eyes falling shut as the breath was stolen from your lungs.

He was actually kissing you.

Slowly, so slowly, his hands reached up to cup your face, and then we was deepening the kiss, pulling you flush against him.

A small sound escaped you as his tongue swept into your mouth, mingling eagerly with your own. He pulled his lips away suddenly, but kept your face in his hands as his eyes scanned yours.

“Is this alright?” he asked intently, but he was panting, and his eyes were blown so far there was only a small rim of light blue around the pools of black.

“Yes. God, Steve, yes,” you panted, hands coming up to clutch the shirt on either side of his torso, twisting the fabric with desperate hands. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this,” you added despite embarrassment burning on your face at the confession.

“Glad I’m not the only one,” he chuckled against your lips.

He was back on you in a split second, and you stumbled into your room in a fierce liplock. You suddenly remembered what a mess you’d left your room in earlier as you’d tried on everything you owned before the party. Plus, you still lived with four other girls, but they were thankfully still at the party, and judging by your knowledge of them, they probably would be for hours still.

You straddled Steve’s lap hurriedly when you’d led him to your bed, and he kissed his way down your neck as you fumbled to undo his shirt, longing for his bare skin. The last time you’d felt it, a building had fallen on your ass, so you hadn’t really taken the time to relish it, though it had been at the back of your mind ever since.

He fucked you sweetly that night, and then roughly, and then sweetly again as you took a shower, going down on you as he knelt between your legs.

You’d never felt such pleasure before, Steve plucking orgasm after orgasm from your body with deft fingers and a wicked tongue, before his honest to god thick as fuck cock fucked you raw. He sounded like a god when he groaned his release. You were sprawled out limp on the bed by the time he pulled his clothes back on with a quirk in his step, looking at his watch a bit nervously.

“Should probably get out of your hair before your girlfriends return,” he said, bending over your spent form, giving you a sweet peck on the lips. You gripped his hand as he straightened, and pulled him down again to devour his lips with your own possessively. He hummed appreciatively in response.

“What if I told you I never want you to leave?” you asked against his lips, knowing you were pushing your luck.

“Then your poor friends would never get any sleep, and neither would you, missy,” he said matter-of-factly, booping your nose with his finger as he tore himself from your grip. Your core clenched at the notion.

Then he looked at you, and you could see the wheels turning in his brain.

“What?” you asked.

He glanced at the door before he sat on the edge of the bed, a hand coming up to lovingly stroke your cheek. You hummed at the touch.

“Are you sure about this? It isn’t forbidden, so we won’t get in trouble. But I’m afraid the rumours can be pretty bad around here. It won’t exactly be easy,” he said mournfully, and you knew he expected a rejection.

You sat up and grabbed his hand in yours.

“Fuck what anybody else says. I’m sure, Steve. I adore you, and I want you by my side from this day on,” you said. The shining, relieved devotion in Steve’s eyes was all you needed to be sure of your choice. Not that there ever was a choice.

You’d go to the ends of the earth for the man.

Your phone buzzed on your nightstand, and you peeked over at it.

“Coming back now. You better get loverboy outta there ;)” the text message from Helena read. The girls were gonna have a field day with this.

“Except for now. The girls are coming back, you better go,” you said as you pecked him once on the lips before pushing him off the bed.

He huffed an amused laughter, looking back over his shoulder one last time as he slipped from the room.

Part 4

“Hey, what did you just say?” you called out at him as he sauntered away.

“Y/N, don’t, it’s not worth it,” Steve said tiredly, trying with a gentle arm to turn you away.

You swatted softly at his hand and looked in his eyes. You were fuming, and his grave expression only fueled your fury. You could see Jason’s words had gotten to him, and that made you see red.

“Steve, I won’t let him talk to you that way,” you said lowly before taking a few steps forward.

“Why don’t you repeat yourself, Jason. We all know how much you like to hear yourself talk,” you called at him. He paused. Of course he would, you knew which buttons to push.

There had gathered a crowd around you now, mostly recruits from your own year, but also some from the year below, plus an odd officer here and there. In the far distance you spotted Natasha Romanoff sipping on a coffee mug as she leaned on a pillar.

He turned around with that ugly smirk. “I’m not sure you can handle it, Y/N,” he called back.

“No, come on, I wanna hear you say it again.“

He started sauntering back, arrogant ass fuming with cockiness.

“I said; the old man goes for the recruit. That’s what happens when the only pussy he could get is a hundred years old and dead,” he repeated, puncturing every word with a tone he would use for a child, seething with his arrogance.

“I’d rather have an old man than a boy, Jason. Funny how you come down on Captain Rogers when you haven’t gotten laid one, single time since we started. How many of us are there? 3000? Well, it does make sense, I mean, look at you,” you said, hearing the crowd around you gasp and “oooh” quietly.

Oh, you were just getting started.

A flicker of self-doubt flashed behind his eyes and you revelled, adrenaline flooding your system. In truth, Jason was a pretty easy target. Just tackle his weak masculinity and give him a taste of his own medicine, and he would crumble easily.

“But that’s not why no one likes you, Jason. It’s because you act like a child. A child who hasn’t gotten his candy, and is throwing a tantrum in the grocery store for everyone to see. And it’s not that we don’t feel bad for you either, Jason. We pity you in fact, as we witness you embarrassing yourself and your mother,” you stated calm and slow, walking up to him, standing a few inches away now.

He tried to speak up, but you easily interrupted him.

“And I get it, it must feel kinda bad to realise no one respects you. Not your peers, not your superiors, not even those inferior to you. Because we all see through this display for failing masculinity,” you continued, gesturing to him vaguely.

He was about a foot taller than you, but had steadily shrunk in on himself as a mortified panic settled in his eyes, fists clenching at his side.

You stepped to the side and stretched out an arm towards Steve, who stood where you’d left him, brows furrowed, arms crossed over his chest, a neutral expression of his face.

“That is a man, Jason, and quite frankly, the opposite of everything you are. Now I know you suffer from the extreme lack of balls, but I actually had no idea you lacked brains also. Because if you had the cognitive ability above a fucking cockroach, you would see that man as the ally and mentor he so gladly offers to be - not that you deserve it - and you wouldn’t be in this situation.” You patted his shoulder twice with your hand before stepping away.

Your senses tingled suddenly, and you dodged the swing of his arm as it came from the left. The crowd around you gasped.

Oh no, he didn’t. Did he really think he could take you on after having trained personally with Captain fucking America? He wouldn't catch you off guard again…

You spun around, dodged his right arm, and gave him a clear slap across the cheek with a flat hand. The smack was crisp, making the crowd around you draw in a collective breath. He grunted and swung again, keeping up the same, predictable move. You dodged easily, spun around him and gave him another slap, this time on his ass. The crowd laughed. He gave a pathetic roar before spinning and lunging on you. You bowed and flipped him easily using your back, and he landed with a hard dunk on the concrete floor of the hallway. Getting up to his knees, you gave him a closed fist punch across the face for your own enjoyment (you knew Steve would reprimand you later for being unnecessarily callous).

That’ll do it for now, you thought as you quickly immobilized him by tripping him over on his stomach on the floor, straddling his ass and pinning his arms on his back. He groaned in frustration as you kept him in the tight grip, not relenting. The crowd around you cheered, and peering over your shoulder you could see the clear amusement shining in Steve’s eyes, along with his pride. You almost giggled.

Bending down, you whispered in Jason's ear.

“Cause if you keep up this little class-act caveman thing, this is all you’re gonna see for the rest of your life. Disgust on the faces of the women in your life, and pity on the men’s. Now kindly fuck off, Jason, I’m tired of looking at your face.”

You let him go and he grunted weakly at you.

Deciding this was your mic drop, you returned to Steve and you fell into step as you resumed your walk up the hallway. Steve let you lead in your victory as the crowd kept cheering loudly behind you. It was exhilarating, but what felt best was knowing you had defended Steve for once.

As you rounded the corner at the other end, Steve abruptly and quickly pushed you up against the wall, his mouth attacking yours. You yelped into his mouth, but melted into his body as it pinned you to the wall. He pushed his thigh between yours and you felt the rock hard bulge in his pants press against your belly. He was frantic as his hands roamed your body, possessive and hungry.

You broke the kiss in amazement, seeing his lust blown eyes.

“Did you like that?” you asked, and you knew you had the most doofy smile on your face.

“That was amazing,” Steve said, panting a bit from his kiss. “I had to fight myself to not take you then and there, God, you’re so fucking sexy when you’re fiesty,” he said, admiration and lust clear in his voice and you bit your lip as his words sent sharp sparks of arousal down below.

“You know I was right. He’s a man-child, and a dick, and has nothing on you,” you said, needing to know Steve wouldn’t take what he said to heart.

“I mean, there’s a reason I didn’t break it off. The guy has had it coming for a long time, I’m just glad I got to watch,” he chuckled, and you laughed with him, still pinned between his body and the wall, your hands running up his back.

“And because it was me, right?” you asked teasingly, a hand coming down to cup the prominent tent in his pants.

“Yes, but strictly for pedagogical reasons. I needed to see if you’ve mastered the tricks I’ve taught you,” he said, trying to be nonchalant and failing as the last words ended in a groan. You were moving your hand steadily over the bulge now, eliciting soft pants from the man.

“I want your feedback on some tricks in the bedroom, Captain Rogers. Could you oblige me?” you asked, giving his chin a lithe kiss.

He groaned deep in his chest, and for a split second you actually got nervous someone would find you if he kept those noises up.

“Lead the way,” he whispered against your lips.

You did, almost running.

Author’s note: God, this one cheers me up. It was exhilarating to be able to live out my childhood dream of beating up bullies through this text lmao. Sorry if your name’s Jason lol<3

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x Y/N #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you

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talesofphantombandits · 4 years ago

Text

Zero to Six ~ I’ll Fight to be Apart of this Family - Edited Version. Part 5.

Characters: Four X Zero (OC)

Summary: Zero was the first person to be ‘saved’ by One, she was his first honorary Ghost. Her knowledge in tech meant she got the role of ‘Hacker’ she recruited new team members, looked for missions and locations and made sure every security measure was looked at. You know normal hacker spy stuff. But her tough up bringing meant that if needs be she could fight, she was maybe even better than some people on the team knew. But due to One’s protectiveness over her she had to stay hidden, she was more of an actual ghost than the rest of the team was. This didn’t mean she couldn’t have her fun though, over the months of being with the full team she had formed quite a passionate love/ hate relationship with the handsome Four. Who knows what sparks would fly if they were ever to meet. Warnings: Slight swearing, some suggestive flirting in later chapters.

Tagg list: (I know this is a edit of my original story but if anyone wants to be tagged let me know.) @raylan-c, @angelic-demonss

“Are we just not going to discuss the stranger in the room? why is the bartender here?” Four smirked at Zero. She in turn just raised her eyebrow at the blonde haired beauty, daring him to continue. “And why is Five giving her first aid?”

The room went silent, everyone was looking at Zero like she was the enemy, and in a way she was. This group of people were the closest thing she had to family and yet she was an impostor, an outsider who’s voice was the only thing the team had ever heard that’s the only thing they knew her by. She hoped One would forgive her for what she was about to do.

Zero coughed away any last nervous about coming clean. "You know for what you guys do, you are all so dumb sometimes."

Zero in return heard a hiss, her head snapped to the direction it came from. She was faced with One, his face and neck had gone completely red with how angry he was. A look that told Zero to shut her gob if she knew what was good for her.

"What?!" Was she really that surprised? It was One after all, did she really think he’d just let her spill the beans right here, right now when he’d kept her away for so many years.

"She, she just stumbled in here after the bar fight, and the doctor couldn't resist helping her." Zero looked from One appalled, to Five who was just as taken a back as Zero was. Her eyebrows furrowed as she gave a concerning look between the both of them.

Zero couldn't help but clock onto the suspicious glare that Two was giving her. She definitely knew the truth, she was an incredibly smart woman and Zero wouldn’t be shocked if she didn’t know the moment she walked into the room. She looked back to One who she could tell was getting more and more worried over the glances everyone in the room was giving Zero.

"Your name was Lilly right?" One asked marching up to Zero and grabbing her hand, but Zero shrugged it off "Come on I'll take you home."

Everyone was looking at One like he'd lost his mind, the team was supposed to be a secret so why would he offer to take a stranger home? The air was so thick in the kitchen that even a knife wouldn’t cut it. To make matters worse Four was starring Zero down with such ferocity she thought those ocean blue eyes she’d only seen in photo’s would melt her to the ground. She just raised her eyebrows at the man again, more threatening this time. Zero was brought back by the tug on her arm, she hissed back at One but jumped down off the counter anyway. As she slowly made her way pasted Five she quietly thanked her for being there to help her as best she could for the night.

“Who is she One?” Three pressed on, One looked like he would explode any moment, the man who never seemed to make such stupid mistakes had nearly revealed one of his biggest secrets. “No one, she’s no one. Just a normal bartender.” Zero stopped abruptly which also dragged One to a stop as his hand was still around her arm. When he whipped around she took the opportunity to strike the man straight across his dumb face.

One looked at her shocked, she herself was in shock at what she had just done. Had she actually just assaulted him? The man that had saved her life all those years ago, gave her food and shelter, she owed him everything and she had just straight up assaulted him. She looked at her hand that now slightly stung in shock, as did everyone else in the room. One’s shock only lasted a couple of seconds before his face turned stony cold and once again he latched onto Zero’s arm and headed towards the door.

After everything that just happened Zero couldn’t help but still be memorised as she approached Four, he was breath taking, a beautiful sight to look at. It was almost like looking into the blinding sun that eventually you had to tear your sight away from, in case of damage to the eyes.

She felt a wave of sadness overcome her suddenly, she had been so close to Four actually knowing who she was, she’d been close to the whole team knowing it was her. God even one normal conversation with him probably wouldn't have satisfied her enough but it would have been a start at least. Yet One just had to take even that away from her, while she was grateful for everything One had done for her, he was still in turn hurting her. What she really needed was a real family and she had found that in these guys but One was always in the way. If her only way was to fight to be apart of this family, then so be it.

"Hurry up" One snapped out angrily, there was definitely going to be consequences for hitting him and she knew it. But she was done being alone.

Zero looked back at Five who was still in shock and what looked like awe, she seemed to blink back to a little normality when she caught Zeros eye again. She gave Zero a ‘You’ll be okay’ look and a little nod, Zero was happy to know that she at least had Five to rant to afterwards when everything with One had settled.

As Zero got closer and closer to the little blonde shit leaning on the door frame she swore she could see him smirking at her, she had to also fight the urge to slap him into next week as well, he’d just seen it first hand so he should be scared. But as she crossed the thresh hold of the hotel kitchen his hand that was hanging by his side brushed against hers and it felt like lightning shooting up her arm, across her shoulder and up the side of her neck. She tried not to show the shiver it sent down her spine but the urge was taking over her. She met his eyes again and to her surprise she saw the same reaction but he quickly hid it. A sudden desired to leave struck her so she decided to just keep walking after One, who had steamed ahead of her.

Once outside she felt like the mist in her mind had cleared a little, but as soon as she saw One angrily waiting beside his car she suddenly felt all the anger rush back. "What the actual fuck One?!" She screamed marching her way to the passenger door.

He opened up his side of the car. "Shut up and get in the car." He said calmly which scared her more than if he had shouted it at her, he got in the drivers seat but slammed the door shut which made her jump in turn. Zero just huffed, not wanting to get in more trouble than she was already in.

"Where are you taking me?" She sighed defeated.

"Home." He said shortly.

"Why?, why did you do that?"

"Do what? A better question is why did you hit me?!" He didn't look at her but she could tell with every word he spoke he was getting more angry.

"Okay in my defence, you were being a dick! you make me think I was finally becoming apart of the team, which then you revealed was just a ‘mistake’ I think you’d also feel like punching someone if you thought you were finally getting the family you deserved just to have them ripped away from you in the same moment!" I tried so hard to not to scream my lungs out at him but the more I spoke the harder it got.

"You knew that they weren't suppose to meet you! Why are you suddenly surprised. I told you when we first made the team that this was how it was going to be and you agreed!" One spat back.

"I did agree! but I was still in a bad place at that time and I wasn’t looking for friends let alone a whole family, I didn’t know that I was actually going to find a sense of security in these group of strangers did I!” The tears started to stream down Zeros face, she could taste the saltiness of her tears with every drop. “I want to go back! I want to complete the rest of the mission, I’ve come this far there is no way I’m bailing out now, just to go sit in that apartment manning the coms by myself for the rest of eternity."

"No." He deadpanned, which made Zero even more angry. Had he not listened to anything she had just said to him? Did he not see just how much this mattered to her.

"One I’m not afraid to knock you out and drive there myself, I think I just proved that back in the kitchen." He just raised his eyebrows at her, like it was a challenge. "Come on One! why are you doing this to me? Why are you keeping me hidden? What do you gain from it."

"Because your job is best done in a flat somewhere, anywhere. Where no one can trace you."

"Bullshit!" Zero screamed which made One forcefully pulled the car over to the side of the road, the suddenness of the stop made her surge forward a little but luckily her seat belt prevented her from travelling any further forward.

"Please just tell me the truth." She said quietly, by this point she was drained physically and emotionally. "Why do you keep me away? and I don't want any of your bullshit. You and I both know I can do my work in any environment."

"I just want to keep you safe." One kept his focus straight ahead, staring out of the windscreen into the darkness.

"What do you mean? Since when have you ever cared about anyone's safety on this team?" I asked confused.

One had few rules, but one of the main rules that One lived by was if anyone gets stuck on a mission they are to be left behind. The team can never be exposed, so if one of them gets left behind because of capture or injury then it's just the price the team has to unfortunately pay.

"You were the first person I found." He slowly turned his head to look at Zero, this was the first piece of real emotion she’d ever seen from the man. She just looked at him confused and rightly so.

"Why does it matter who came first? I thought you weren't meant to care about any of us?"

"I’m not." He shrugged now trying to seem like he wasn’t intrested in the conversation anymore, hoping she’d drop the subject. "But you were the first member of the team, You were in a very bad situation when I found you. I do actually have human feelings you know and I guess, In a way I grew fond of you."

Zero didn’t know what to feel, was she actually touched by this? She’d known One for a few years now and this was the most emotion she’d ever seen the man show, although she did think of him as closed off and cold he’d still saved her so in some way she rested him. "So why keep me away?"

"I didn't want you to ever get hurt, It would hurt too much to leave you behind if you got stuck. But it's a price i'd have to pay."

"Then don't, what you’re saying is that deep down, somewhere in that cold heart of yours you do actually care for this team you’ve created. So change the rule. We all need to be there for each other, especially now." I said reaching out to him.

"You know I can't do that. The mission comes first." His voice grew cold again and she knew she’d never see his vulnerable side again, shrugging off her hand he turned away to stare back out into the darkness.

"Then at least take me back to the team. I can work at the base, I don't want to be alone anymore One." He looked at her dead in the eye. "I’m starting to go stark raving mad staying in those apartments by myself not seeing anyone for years on end takes a toll on a person."

"You're hurting me more by keeping me away from them."

They both sat there for a moment in silence as Zero watched the cogs in One’s head turn, she thought if she pushed enough maybe, just maybe she’d get her way for once.

"Fine.” Did he just agree? “But I’m warning you now, if you get left behind on a mission, or injured I’m not coming back for you." He started up the car again, eerily calm It always annoyed her to no end that she could never figure this man out.

"I've known that since day one." He didn’t say another word as he turned the car around and sped off.

When they reached the base she was shocked to see just how many old and broken down planes One had collected over the years. "You’re still collecting them I see"

"Even got one or two that actually work." He mused.

It may have seem like a childish thought given the circumstances but Zero honestly couldn’t wait to explore every single aircraft in the graveyard. One had made it up the long dirt road by the time Zero came back to her senses, the car stopped and she could see a big crate in front of her and standing outside the only door was a great big dog.

"Hey boy it's fine, she's with me." The dog then ran to One’s side and he started to pet him affectionately.

I just scoffed, raising my eyebrows at him. “What?”

“So the dog gets your affection but we don’t?” Zero grabbed her chest, gasping pretending he’d hurt her heart but One just rolled his eyes at her and told her to stop being so dramatic. He then guided her up to an aeroplane that had a cartoon of a ghost with three lightning bolts shooting out of its hand near the entrance.

Zero laughed to herself. "I like that!" Pointing to the symbol.

"It’s in honour of you and your spooky shit." She looked at him shocked. “Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

She let him walk ahead of her so she could get her bearings, what came next was going to be a big shock to her system.

"One, you're back! I’m going to need you to spill, who was the bartender? Come on you’re never nice to anyone! Let alone giving a stranger a ride home." As soon as Zero heard that annoyingly sexy British accent she stopped dead in her tracks.

"I'll let her tell you herself."

Then there was silence. It finally hit her that she was about to meet the only family she’d ever known.

She was mostly scared because all she wanted was for them to like her, which she knew they already did but now, seeing and being with them in the flesh she didn’t want to mess their connection up. Especially with Four. She couldn’t deny that her and Fours connection even just through coms was a strong one, she just didn’t know what that connection meant yet but she was definitely excited to find out, she just hoped her feelings for him aren’t one sided.

She took a deep breath to calm herself, then rounded the corner.

"Hey guys." She smiled at all their awestruck faces, she gave a little awkward waving but internally scolded herself afterwards.

Everyone but Two looked at her in shock, she just had to laugh, that woman was too smart for her own good. "Well darling, the anticipation is killing us." Fours dark eyes were trained on Zero as he leaned on the table, she swore in that moment her legs turned to jelly.

"Well if you'd actually let me speak you'd find out sooner, wouldn’t you monkey boy." Her words seemed to snap something in him as he shot straight.

Everyone else just laughed as the realisation of who they were meeting struck them. She just smirked at them all, finally she could be in on jokes, eat with them and just get to be around the people she cares about most in this cruel world.

"Zero?!" Three said enthusiastically, bounding towards her and scooping her up into a bear hug.

She felt like all the air was being squeezed out of her but she didn’t mind one bit. "Glad to see there are actually some smart people around here.” She chocked out.

“Three can you please release Zero, you’re literally suffocating our only hacker.” One said annoyed while he was fiddling with some magnets.

Three let her down and she just smiled, patting him on the shoulder to let him know she was okay. "Sorry! Sorry, I’m just so excited to finally meet you mami!" He proceeded to kiss both of her cheeks.

She just laughed at how adorable he acted in person, Three had always been one of her favourite ghosts. He wasn’t the smartest and most of the time made the worst decisions but he was sweet and funny and wouldn’t waste a single second if you were in trouble, he’d be by your side.

"Well dam." Four was leaning with his back against the table, arms crossed and staring Zero down. Her eyes travelled to his and she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

Someone in the room, Zero couldn’t tell who coughed awkwardly which snapped both Zero and Four out of their intense staring competition.

“So, the new mission?”

#6 underground #6 underground four #6 underground fanfiction #6 underground billy #6 underground x reader #billy #billy x oc #billy x reader #billy x scout #four #four fanfiction #four x reader #four x zero #four x oc #zero to six edited version

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qqueenofhades · 4 years ago

Note

Fivan + 2 please ❤ in your modern au or in canon, idc

2. “Stay here tonight.”

It is the night of October 25, 1917, in the Old Style, and outside the windows, the streets of Petrograd are in total chaos. The telegraph lines of the Winter Palace have been cut, even as Vladimir Ilyich Lenin's proclamation, To the Citizens of Russia, clatters across the wires to every corner of the country, proclaiming the overthrow of the Provisional Government established in February and the total victory of the Bolsheviks and their Military-Revolutionary Committee. Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky is one of the few soldiers still at his post, even though he knows that it's only a matter of time. He can hear the distant, surging roar of the revolutionaries coming closer and closer, the boom of the cruiser firing shots in the harbor, the song of angry men. They will be in here before the night is out.

His hands are slick with sweat, but he holds his gun as tightly as he can. The cabinet of the Provisional Government is closeted within, leaving a scanty force of soldiers, officers, Cossacks, and cadets to resist the imminent invasion, but it's clear they will have to flee, as Tsar Nicholas II and his family have already done. There are already whispers among the men that they should do the same, turn their coats and join the victorious rebels. Fedyor hasn't decided where he falls. He has a duty here. He can't just leave it. And yet.

The roar comes closer, something living and furious and savage, the crash of breaking windows and rattling iron, as the forty-thousand-strong Bolshevik mob surges against the gates of the Winter Palace and breaks them down. Minutes later, they're inside. There follows almost three hours of confused fighting among the glittering hallways and under the chandeliers where grand dukes and princes whirled their wives and mistresses by the bejeweled hand, in all the decadence and splendor of the imperial court. Priceless paintings are ripped to shreds, glass and woodwork smashed. Fedyor fights messily, hand to hand, whichever of them he encounters. Until he comes around a corner, runs straight into one of them and is caught clean off guard, and the next moment, backhanded viciously to the floor.

As the Bolshevik raises the butt of his rifle to smash Fedyor's face in, he discovers to his disgust that he is in fact, at the end, a coward more than he is a loyalist. "Don't," he begs. "Don't kill me. I surrender."

The Bolshevik stares at him grimly down his long nose, from a face that seems made for the express purpose of scowling. At this close range, Fedyor can tell from the insignia on his collar that he is a member of the Red Guard, the paramilitary people's organization drawn together to support the establishment of a supreme soviet socialist republic. In other words, the most dedicated and ruthless of all the Bolsheviks, and Fedyor has no reason to think this one will show him mercy. He squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the end.

It doesn't come. He dares to open his eyes. The Red Guard is still glaring at him, but in frustration. Then he snaps, "What's someone like you doing here? How old are you? Twelve?"

"Nineteen." Fedyor bristles. To judge from his speech, this newcomer is from Siberia, which has probably been a fertile recruiting ground for long jeremiads about the excessive luxury of the urban elite, and Fedyor does not intend to be judged by some cowpoke. "If we're asking that question, why are you here? Hasn't anyone ever told you that it's treasonous to overthrow the government?"

To his surprise, the Bolshevik snorts, as if he didn't want to laugh, isn't used to laughing, and is slightly annoyed that Fedyor made him do it. "Get out of here," he advises tersely. "Or turn your coat and join us. I might not have killed you, but someone else will."

This is, in all respects, a fine idea, but something still makes Fedyor hesitate. "I, uh," he says awkwardly. "Thank you for, you know. Not doing that. I suppose."

"No honor in killing boys." The Red stares at him, flinty-eyed and imperturbable. This is not the moment, it really is not, to notice that he is rather handsome. "I said. Get out."

Fedyor mutters a prayer for the Almighty to forgive him, if God has not been asleep in Heaven for quite a long time now when it comes to Russia, and the devil, in the person of Grigori Rasputin, has been ruling instead. Then he dodges through the chaotic corridors, clambers through a broken window into the palace grounds, and makes his escape, with no idea what to do or where to go. All around him, the night resounds with sound and fury.

He finally finds somewhere in a side alley to dodge out of sight and await the inevitable. Just past two AM, he hears the bells ringing across the city, a sign that the revolutionaries have fully seized control of the Winter Palace, and it's done, it's over, his side has lost. Perhaps he should feel more upset about this than he does. It is abstract.

Fedyor spends the next two days adrift in the shattered sea of Petrograd, everyone completely agog and afraid and with no idea what will happen to them now. He sells his soldier's coat with its brass buttons for food and a blanket, reduced to no better than any other of the terrified refugees. He can't go back to the Winter Palace, and the revolutionaries are blocking any train he might take home to Nizhny Novgorod. He sits near the dock as the third evening is falling, shivering and hungry and scared. What now, what now, what --

"What are you doing here?"

He jumps out of his wits at the angry hiss, nearly drops his blanket in the water, and startles to his feet. It can't be, but it is, the Red Guard who spared him in the assault. They stare at each other. The Bolshevik looks like he has been on patrol, rifle on his back, and while it's not the wisest thing to say to such a terrifying-looking fellow, it comes out anyway. "Are you ever," Fedyor says, "going to ask me something besides what I'm doing somewhere? Such as my name?"

The humorless Red bastard scowls at him. Then he demands, as if he would in fact like to know the answer and is very annoyed about it, "So what is your name?"

"Fedyor." Fedyor folds his arms. "Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky. You?"

"Ivan." It comes after a long, reluctant pause. "Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov. You should get off the streets."

"I don't have anywhere else to go."

Ivan Ivanovich acknowledges that with a terse nod. He debates with himself, then thrusts out a hand. "This way."

Fedyor follows him warily, not sure if he's being lured off to be shot in the head like the rest of the White Russians, but Ivan leads him to a tiny hovel in the working-class districts of Petrograd, a small room lit by a gaslamp. "You can stay here tonight," he says brusquely. "Just one night, do you hear me? After that, I can't help you."

"All right." Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Fedyor warily sits down. "And you? Where do you sleep?"

"Since you are there -- " Ivan jerks his chin at the narrow bed -- "on the floor. Do not be mistaken. I do not like you. As I said. It is only a matter of honor. Even rebels have it, you know."

Fedyor isn't sure, but he doesn't want to disagree. He lies down and folds his hands on his chest, staring at the garret ceiling, as Ivan Ivanovich settles on the frayed rug. And so -- it is strange, impossible, but no more than anything else in this new world with no rules -- side by side, imperial soldier and Red revolutionary, they sleep.

#ivan x fedyor #heartrender husbands #fivan #anonymous #ask #anon: modern au or canon!#me barging in with donuts and a cigarette hanging out of my mouth: FIVAN RUSSIAN REVOLUTION AU? ANYONE? I GOT YOUR AUS RIGHT HERE!#anyway i had feelings about this so here you go #fivan ff #russian revolution au

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bodyswapmischief · 4 years ago

Text

The Crossroad Contract

Are you okay?

Yeah? What do you mean?

I don't know ... you have been distracted all night. Like you have been thinking about something. You been constantly looking at your watch. And, you keep looking around like you expecting some one to show up.

Okay, I get it, I get. I don't know ... I guess I just been stressed lately. But, it's nothing you need to worry about.

Are you sure? Because if I didn't know better it kinda feels like your trying to hide from someone. We been dating for a year now, so I know when something is wrong. Did you get into trouble?

No, it's nothing I promise. It just a lot is happening at the ... at the gym. In fact we are planning on creating some branches. I've been waiting to hear from Mark because we are expecting to meet up with some sponsors to help us expand. That's why I've been anxious. We should be having an online meeting, tonight.

What!? That's great! I know once they see how fit and hot you are, you'll have them eating out of your hand. You don't got anything to worry about.

Jason and Eric continued the rest of their date. Jason tried his best to act normal in front of his boyfriend, but inside the fear of what was coming ate at his mind.

Do you want to come inside?

No. I actually got the text from Marc. I need to rush home and get my presentation ready for the zoom meeting we are having.

Jason gave Eric a tight squeeze, as they hugged. Even though Jason was taller, bigger, and stronger than his boyfriend, he felt safe in Eric's arms. He loved this feeling. He loved everything about this past year. And, he wanted to stay in this moment for ever.

But, he knew he couldn't. It wasn't safe to be near Eric, as the night grew later. He gave Eric a kiss a turned back to get into his car. As he drove home, his strong musclar arms shook with the the growing intensity of fear.

Reaching his apartment he prepared himself for what was to come. As the time past, Jason did all he could think to do, pray.

Dear God forgive me for what I did. For give me for my sins. I need you now. I need your strength.

His isn't listening.

The room filled with an echoed laughter. Jason opened his eyes and noticed the room was even darker than before. Sitting on the couch across from him was a what looked like a man. He stretched out comfortably. He was extremely attractive, dressed in an all black suit. His eyes matched, as their were no whites. His eyes were pools of pure black. The expression on his face was one of twisted joy.

It always amuses me that people like you feel worthy of forgiveness.

The figure laughs. And Jason instantly started shaking with fear. He was sure that he head more time. Looking at the clock, 11:00 pm, he should have had an hour left

Do you need to be reminded of the 5 soul you destroyed to summon me? The poor souls you used to selfishly stir up this deal. The things you did to have the body of your dreams.

The man continued his laughing. Jason tried to speak up, but fear gagged any attempt at sound.

What cat got your tongue? Don't you remember how you stabbed your father in his heart, as he slept. What about your mother? She woke up to the bloody sight. Your father bleeding out. She started screaming. How many times did you stabbed her in the neck? And your poor sister, at first she thought you enter her room to protect her, but once she saw the blood she knew the truth...

Stop!! Shut the fuck up!!! I don't want to hear it!!!

Tears started streaming down Jason's face.

Wow, someone has major balls yelling at a demon. But, your right ... what you did to your two friends was way worst...

Please shut up! If I could go back, I would have never done it. I'm sorry... Take this back ... I don't want this ...

Jason collapsed on the floor begging to the demon he summoned a year ago. His heart screamed with the pain of what he had done.

It's a little late for that, now isn't it. We made a deal. Those 5 souls for your "perfect body." It's not like I can just recreate those 5 souls for you. That body is now permanently yours for as long as you live. Live... now that's a funny word. Because it brings me to my real reason for coming here tonight. You know what I'm talking about. It's been a year buddy ... and you haven't delivered a new souls to hell. Do I need to remind you about the second clause of our agreement.

No... I know.. In order to stay alive in my new body. I must continue to kill a minimum of 1 person every year, otherwise I'll be dragged to hell.

Jason wiped away his tears feeling of defeated. In a strange way he wanted this. He felt like he deserved it. The guilt of killing his family and friends weighed on him for the entire year.

Well then do it! Take me to hell.

The demon smiled as chains emerged from him. They snaked around the room and wrapped around Jason. The strung around him and stabbed into his skin. He screamed out in pain. And, painfully his body started moving on its own.

Tears started forming in his eyes, as he feared his fate. In the corner of his room, a figure started to take shape. The closer he got the clear the figure became and the more he tried to scream. But, all that came out of his mouth were moans of panic.

Standing in front of him was a monster. The creatures body was tall with stretched limbs. It's skin was pale and was patterned with sores and cuts. It stood on bended knees. It fingers were long and curled, in disfigurement. It's nails black and sharp, resembling claws. The face was long and sunken in at the empty eye sockets. The skin hung loose on the bone. Holes done by picking reveled deep layers underneath the skin. It lips were cracked and torn.

The demon laughed.

Do you still wish to go to hell?

Jason was able to regain his movement and feel to the floor. From the corner of his eyes Jason could see the creature lung down towards him. Expecting to be ripped apart by the creature he closed his eyes. But, seconds past and nothing happened. Slowly he open his eyes and looked up. The creature was also looking up. The Demon started to do a soft chuckle.

Jason slowly picked himself up, not sure what was going on. The creature did the same. The Demon's chuckles got louder. Jason started slowly walking backwards away from the creature. The creature did the same creating more space between then. The demon was laughing hysterically now.

How do you not see it it? Are you really that blind to the situation?

The words rang through Jason's mind. His faced turned to shock. And in a twisted way the creature face also turned to one of shock. As Jason looked at the empty sockets of the creature, his brain works 1 billion times per second. He was looking at himself. He looked down at his body and still saw the ripped muscular body of his dreams. But, looking back at the creature he could see it was also him twisted, stretch, tortured, and mutilated.

What the hell is going on? What did you do to me?

I didn't do anything. I'm just merely showing you your true reflection. Yes on the outside and to the world, you look like a beefcake. But, once you leave that vessel. Once you die, this is your truth. Your true form, this is how you really look.

Jason stood in shock. He lifted his hands to his face. Touching his features and the creature did the same.

This can't be.

What!? You sold your soul Jason. You couldn't think your soul would still look pure and beautiful. God has disowned you and cursed your appearance to match. You are scared of becoming a monster. But, you already are one. Let yourself be one.

Jason fell to the floor, sobbing, The adrenaline from the fear starting to wear off. He was tired and defeated.

So what now!? Your going take away my body and torture me for all eternity, while looking like some type of monster!

Well that's up to you, Jason. You signed the contract. You know the consequences. Either take a life and live in this extremely attractive vessel for another year, or lose everything and be tortured until that mind of yours becomes just as twisted as your soul. Either way you become one of Lucifier's pets. But, doing it the easy way, at least you continue to look hot and have some sense of yourself still intact.

But, this body won't last for ever. Eventually it's going to die... so. I'd have nothing eventually.

Jason!! What don't you understand! Your a demon now. You are basically employed by the devil. Once that body becomes obsolete, and you are in good graces with Lucifer, you will receive a new body, in order to complete the work Lucifer ask of you.

So if I make the devil happy ... I can live the life I always wanted... and more.

Now, someone's getting it. Let the monster within, be unleashed. Let your dark desires free. You've killed once and you can do it again. Deep down you know you crave it. But you better work fast. By the looks of the clock ... you only have 30 minutes left.

Why are you telling me all this.

Your my recruit... if you do a good job... it also make me look good. And, I'm looking for a promotion.

The demon winks and with a flash he vanished. Jason looked around the room and catches a glimpse of his reflection. For a split second, he saw the demonic reflection of his soul. And, in that moment everything clicked. He had to stop pretending. He had to let loose and be himself. Be the monster. He knew what he had to do. He couldn't let everything he worked for slip away from his grasp. The souls of his family and friends would just be wasted. He might be a monster but he didn't have to look like one. He still deserved happiness, right? He deserved power. He wanted more power.

Now, that he knew what was at stake he started to really think to himself.. if this body was just given to him for signing a contract, then what else would he be able to achieve if he continued to make Lucifer happy.

He went to his kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife he had and slid it inside the back of his pants.

He pulled out his phone and started texting.

Hey babe, the meeting ended and it went really well. There was no reason to be anxious, in the first place. You were right. I thought I'd come back to your place. So, we could celebrate and I can release this tension I been holding in all day. I'll be there in 5 minutes. I'm dying to stick it in you 😉

Wow, the meeting must have gone great! You're not usually this flirty and direct. But, I like it. It's turning me on. Hurry, I'll be here waiting.

Jason looked up from his phone and smiled as he walked to his boyfriends apartment, a few minutes down the street. The thoughts of ramming his knife, into his lover, turned him on.

#body #swap #mischief #transformation #tf #story #stories

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lets-just-daydream · 4 years ago

Note

Heya, I first off wanted to say I love your writing! It’s so cool seeing how you approach such a wide range of topics and characters in a very unique way each time. Second, I was wondering if you could do some angsty stuff, maybe Hanzo, McCree or Genji cheating on their S/O and her basically having to rebuild herself from the ground up, maybe even have them run into each other a few years later. I’m not sure if this has been requested or not but I’m feeling like having my soul crushed. ^3^

Angst is the way to my heart uwu

Also thanks for your kind words and I'm so sorry this took forever pls forgive me ❤️ also there's a little not sfw in there but nothing too intense :)

* HANZO *

Living in Shimada Castle was like a dream. You were waited on hand and foot and your partner was the dreamiest man alive. Yes, Hanzo Shimada, heir to the Shimada throne had chosen you to rule by his side.

You had your doubts initially but Hanzo had assured you that you would be happy and looked after.

"You will want for nothing, my blossom," he promised you.

All of the promises came crashing down on you when you arrived home early from an errand, seeing Hanzo on top of another woman, thrusting into her with a frenzy that sent a sickness into your core.

"Oh my god," you breathed before turning and running out of the room and through the halls.

Hanzo froze for a moment, not believing what was happening. He scrambled to his feet and called your name, running after you, holding sheets around his waist to preserve what little dignity he had left.

"My love, please!" he begged, chasing you through the grounds.

He finally caught up to you and grabbed your wrist.

"Don't touch me!" you cried, ripping your wrist from his grasp.

Your tear stained cheeks and messy hair broke Hanzo. How could he have done this to you?

"I don't want to see you or hear from you ever again," you choked, "and you can have this back, too."

You pulled the engagement ring from your finger and threw it at Hanzo. His features twisted into an expression of heartbreak as terror took over. He racked his brain to think of something, anything to say to you before you could leave.

"My lo-"

"Don't embarrass yourself any further," you mumbled. "Goodbye, Hanzo."

That was the last time you saw Hanzo. That day had left you shattered for months and years on end. Until one morning, you realised you no longer cared. It was liberating and you felt like you could finally move on with your life.

You found a new job, a new home and you had built yourself a new happy little life.

"Morning, the usual?" the barista asked you as you stopped by the coffee shop on your way to work.

"Please," you said with a smile as you dug around for change.

"I will cover this one," said a familiar voice that made you freeze.

"Of course, mister Shimada," the barista said, taking the payment.

You tried to steady your breathing, not wanting to believe what was happening. You gulped and thought for a second, deciding to turn and face the man you had once loved.

"Hanzo," you accused, looking up at the man who ruined your life years ago. He had aged slightly and his features were sharper, but there was an obvious trace of exhaustion on his face.

"Hello, blossom," he greeted.

"Oh, so I'm 'blossom,' am I?" you asked, unimpressed.

Hanzo sighed and hung his head, saying your name softly.

"You have no idea how terrible my life has been since that day," he started.

"Look, whatever it is you have to say, I don't want to hear it. And I have to get to work," you said, taking your drink, heading to the exit.

"Please," Hanzo begged, grabbing your wrist.

"What is with you and touching me when I don't want you to touch me?!" you demanded, pulling from his grip.

Hanzo dropped his hand and apologised,

realising that you weren't going to forgive him so easily. He wasn't sure you would forgive him at all.

"Will you please hear me out?" Hanzo asked. The desperation in his voice and his ragged appearance tugged at your heart and for a moment you forgot about all those years ago.

"Hanzo," you sighed.

You thought for a moment as he looked at you, hoping you would say something to ease the sorrow in his heart. You thought back to the day you found him in bed with someone else and bile rose in your throat.

"You seem to forget that I told you I never want to see or hear from you ever again," you stated.

"I-I" Hanzo stammered, his face turned a deep shade of red and he stood there with his mouth agape as he struggled to think of the right words to say.

You stood, an expectant eyebrow raised and tapping your foot impatiently.

"I've moved on," you said, stepping around him to exit the store. "And you should too."

Hanzo could do nothing but watch as you left, he had a feeling that this time, he really was seeing you walk away for the last time.

* MCCREE *

Your relationship with McCree was anything but normal. When you first met the cowboy you thought he was a complete creep and you kept your distance from him. It didn't last long and you eventually succumbed to his charm and became another notch on his belt.

You were different to other girls, though. McCree confessed to you that he could see a future with you and he wanted to take things beyond physical chemistry and see what more could blossom between you. It was beautiful for a time and you had found the one.

Or so you thought.

"I can't believe we're doing this," the girl giggled as McCree sucked and kissed her neck.

"What she don't know won't hurt 'er," McCree sighed as he unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants. The girl got on her knees and took McCree's length in her mouth, pleasing him and causing lewd moans to escape from his lips.

You arrived home after a long day at work and dropped your bag and keys by the door. You made it your bedroom and were shocked at the sight of McCree being pleasured by an unknown woman.

"J-Jesse?" you stammered.

"Sweetheart!" McCree cried, stepping back from the woman and struggling to pull his pants back up. Before he got the opportunity to say anything more, you left the room, grabbing your keys and leaving the house, not returning again.

It had been a few months and you were finally over what happened that night with McCree. He had tried to contact you many times during that time but you screened every call and message. One day, you recruited some of your friends to accompany you back to your old place to pick up some of the things you had left behind.

"Angel!" McCree cried when he answered the door, seeing you standing there.

"Jesse," you said blankly. "I'm just here to get my stuff, please stay out of my way."

"B-but…" McCree blubbered.

"Outta the way, McCree," one of your friends said, pushing McCree aside so you could get through.

"Darlin', please… I'm sorry for what I did. I've been so broken since you left me," McCree pleaded, following you around the house as you gathered your things.

You ignored him as he followed, your friends making sure he didn't get too close.

"I've moved on, Jesse. I'm not interested in what you have to say."

McCree blubbered and pleaded as you finished gathering your things and headed for the door.

"Sweet pea," he breathed, grabbing your hand as you left.

"I'm not your 'sweet pea', 'darling' or anything else. Goodbye."

All McCree could do was watch as you wrenched your hand from his grip and leave, no room in your life for him anymore.

* GENJI *

You were reluctant to date the young and infamous playboy. You had enjoyed many a makeout session in the back of the club you frequented together but when Genji had proposed that you date properly, you were wary. Genji had tried time and time again to prove to you how serious he was. He finally gained your trust after a few weeks of hanging out with you at your place on Saturday nights instead of going out.

You took it slow and you were glad you had given him a chance. You regretted however, one Saturday night.

You asked him what his plans were for that night and he said he was having a night in at home, tired and wanting to catch up on rest. You understood and told him to take it easy, instead messaging your friends and asking if they would like to go out instead.

You all met up and drank, partied and danced. Many men tried making advances on you and you politely declined, informing them that you were spoken for. Your fun night out came to an abrupt end when one of your friends pulled you to the side, biting her lip and freaking out.

"Umm, I don't know how to tell you this… but look over there," she gulped, pointing to a couple making out in the corner.

You looked at them, confused until you recognised the male. You recognised the strong shoulders and short hair that belonged to your boyfriend. Your heart dropped and you felt a pang of nausea in the pit of your stomach.

You marched over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to face you, surprised to see you standing there, a mix of rage and hurt in your eyes.

"O-oh," was all Genji could manage, not knowing what to say.

"At home," you murmured, unable to say anything else as bile rose and tears threatened to spill. "Liar."

You turned on your heel and left the club, your friends following behind you, shooting death glares at Genji.

You went home and your friends stayed with you all night in pyjamas. Tissues, drinks and ice cream were plentiful and within arm's reach. Genji tried coming over to smooth things over with you but your friends stopped him at the door.

"She doesn't want to see you," they scolded. "You should leave."

"Please let me see her," Genji pleaded. "I made a mistake and I want to make it right."

Your friend ran up to your room and explained that Genji was at your door and he wanted to speak to you.

"Alright," you sighed.

"Are you sure? We can tell him to get lost."

"I can handle it," you said, standing and padding over to the door where Genji stood. His hair was a mess, his nose was slightly red and his eyes puffy.

"Babe, I'm sorry!" he apologised. "I was stupid and-"

You held up a hand and Genji stopped talking, waiting for you to say something.

"I don't care what you have to say. You lied to me and that's not something I'm going to forgive you for," you said. "I'd appreciate it if you left."

"But, I'm sorry!" Genji cried.

"You can't sweet talk your way out of this one. Bye, Genji."

You shut the door and Genji stared at the closed door in front of him, mentally beating himself up for being so stupid.

#overwatch imagines #overwatch x reader #overwatch fanfic #overwatch fic #overwatch fanfiction #hanzo x reader #mccree x reader #genji x reader #not sfw #red writes

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seeuonadarknite · 5 years ago

Text

one of the boys — yandere overhaul x f. reader

apparently woman are looked down upon in the yakuza,, shame on y'all ;( forgive me for my poor smut writing skills, i might write longer smut in the future if y’all want it 😳

warnings: dubcon, stalking, gore (overhaul's quirk), explicit smut.

All it took was a dramatic wardrobe change, a short haircut, extensive vocal practice, and the removal of all of your files to worm your way into the Shie Hassaikai.

That's right, you were a woman that was a part of the Yakuza. It wasn't a simple task on your end; you had to let go of everything you knew in order to live this dangerous life.

You believed it was unfortunate how women were looked down upon in the underground world. It took months of preparations to prepare yourself for this role, not even including your extensive quirk training.

Finally, after months of trying to remove all personal and medical files on yourself, you had successfully managed to fake your identity and wow the Shie Hassaikai with your unique quirk.

You had an informational quirk that allowed you to solve any case within seconds. The only downside to this quirk was how you needed the names of the people involved in the case. Your quirk also didn't give you any sort of super intuition, so you still needed to be on guard most of the time.

This quirk was honestly quite useful when it came down to it, so why did you decide use it in the way that you did? Why not become a hero, or an assistant, or even a villain for that matter? Why give your life away and allow yourself to become a slave to the underground world?

It was simple, really. It was all because of the boss of the Shie Hassaikai; Chisaki Kai. Also known as Overhaul.

This man ridded you of the only parental figure you had in your life. Your father. It was only one year ago when you arrived to an empty house and a note on the counter left by your father. It was a warning, telling you to stay away from the mob boss that went by Chisaki Kai.

Just his name was enough information to use your quirk, allowing you to crack the case in a matter of 5 seconds. He had blown your father up. All because he was beginning to figure out the secrets on who he really was.

This was enough to encourage you to avenge your father, and finish the job. It was a miracle that you were recruited, and no one had further questioned your mysterious backstory.

Well, almost no one.

The mob boss himself had questioned your presence the second you become apart of Shie Hassaikai. Why were your files almost completely nonexistent? Why did you seem so on edge around the other members? Why did you seem so interested in the name of the past leader?

Oh. Oh.

Now he got it. He pieced your suspiciousness and your quirk together. You were trying to get the dirt on him, weren't you? Why else would you willingly join the Yakuza with your useful quirk with open arms?

Two could play at that game, then. Kai began discreetly following you around, keeping tabs on important things like who you talked to, what you did on your phone or laptop, what times you'd leave the vicinity, and other things of the sort. Perhaps he could admit it was getting a little bit obsessive.

But he swore to himself that he was just trying to protect his status and not allow any traitors to get away with anything. That's why he took it upon himself to follow you home one night. He needed to make sure that you weren't spreading information or doing anything suspicious.

But boy, did he not expect to see what he saw through your bedroom window. You had taken your uniform off, along with layers of binding clothing to hide any type of curvature. What really surprised him, was the fact that you had breasts and what looked to be laced panties covering your womanhood.

One would assume that this would infuriate the mob boss, knowing that he had been betrayed and lied to by one of his men. But the tent growing in his pants proved otherwise.

Oh, he would have fun with this one.

—

You had been summoned to the boss's private office. Odd, on normal circumstances if the boss wanted to meet with you, it'd be planned out and in a meeting room. But you had received the order on one of your night shifts by a tall, hooded, masked man.

Shaking off any paranoid thoughts, you gently knocked on the large mahogany door, almost hoping you wouldn't receive an answer. To your dismay, you heard the monotone voice of your boss. "Come in."

As soon as you stepped foot into the office, you almost gasped at the sight before you. His office was huge. It was probably the size of the first floor of your house. Before you could gawk at the nicely furnished office any longer, Kai cleared his throat, successfully gaining your undivided attention.

"Boss! Sorry, it's just that your office is so nice, I've never seen anything l—" Your ramblings were cut short by the masked man before you.

"Quiet. I want you to come here." He curled his gloved finger a few times, indicating that he wanted you to meet him behind his desk.

Okay, now things were getting really weird. You didn't question his orders in fear of getting your body blown into nothing. Reluctantly, you made your way over behind the large, polished desk. As soon as you were standing next to Kai's sitting form, he shot up from his seat and slammed you onto the desk, causing a few items to fall onto the floor.

"Did you really think you could get away with deceiving me like this? Pretending to be a man just to get the dirt on me? Pathetic." Your eyes were as wide as saucers as you trembled in fear. This only caused Kai's pants to tighten around his cock, feeling an immense power trip.

You should've looked into this meeting before you carelessly walked into the clutches of the devil himself. Here you were, getting your uniform quite literally ripped off of your body.

Kai clicked his tongue at the bindings that covered your chest. "Your body must be in constant agony because of that poor binding job." He slipped his gloves off with ease, allowing his quirk to destroy the bindings and free your breasts.

What you didn't notice, was the shocked expression that covered Kai's features. As he touched you, he didn't receive a single hive. He wanted to savor the feeling of your soft skin, knowing it wouldn't have any negative effects on his.

Before you could retaliate, you felt smooth, large hands begin to roughly palm at your breasts. Kai wasted no time and leaned his head down to swirl his tongue around the hardened bud on one of your breasts, while the other one was being fondled and pinched by Kai's hand. You whimpered as his teeth began leaving bite marks all over your soft mounds.

As much as you wanted to scream and shout, you couldn't help but feel a pool begin to form between your legs. He was just so good and seemed to know exactly what he was doing, even if he had never touched a female in such a way.

"Aren't you a little slut? I've barely even touched you and you're already soaking wet." The smug man pulled away from your breasts, opting to slide his hand under your panties. You couldn't help the moans that escaped your lips as he practically shoved a finger inside of you, feeling your tightened cunt squeeze around it.

He grinned, gradually slipping in two more fingers while rubbing your clit with the palm of his hand. It was quite the show for him, seeing you shamelessly grind yourself onto his hand. He could only imagine how you felt around his swelling cock.

And before you knew it, you had been clenching around his fingers and twitching in place, allowing yourself to cum all over his hand.

On any normal circumstances, Kai would find this act utterly repulsive. He would feel the need to scrub his hands until they bled. But for some ungodly reason, he felt the urge to fuck you until you couldn't form coherent words.

Hastily pushing your panties to the side, Kai wasted no time in pulling his lengthy cock out. Before you had the chance to even ask about protection, you felt your insides being stretched by Kai's massive cock.

He didn't even give you a chance to adjust to his length. "O-Overhaul, wait! You're gonna rip me apart at this rate..!" You stuttered, silently cursing yourself out for appearing so pathetic to your superior. Your pitiful attempt at retaliation only caused Kai's thrusts to pick up in speed, rivaling the movements of a wild animal.

You wanted to hate it, you really did. You were allowing yourself to get ravaged by the man that killed your father. But he pleasured you in a way that your mere left hand would never be able to accomplish. It almost felt like his cock was meant to be inside of you.

"Good. I want your body to become accustomed to mine. Only I'll be allowed to fuck you like this." You hadn't even realized he had taken his mask off before he leaned in and attacked your lips with his. Your mouth had moved on its own, as you allowed his tongue to ravage your oral cavity.

After pulling away with a light string of saliva separating the two of you, Kai forcefully folded your legs into your chest. This action allowed him to bury his cock deep inside of you; deep enough to hit your cervix.

Now this had you going. You couldn't even contain yourself as you clenched around his cock, feeling you near your climax. Kai soon interrupted the sound of grunts, moans, and slapping by leaning forward and whispering in your ear.

"I want you to pledge that you'll keep your dirty secret, that you won't let the others know that you're not a sophisticated detective, but dirty little cock slut. Only I'm allowed to fuck you like this. Only I'm allowed to touch you. Come on. Say it!" He grunted, raising his voice towards the end of his command.

"I-I promise not to tell a soul..! You're the only one who knows my secret and the only one allowed to relish in it!" You couldn't believe the words coming out of your mouth. You were basically allowing the man who ruined your life to be the only person in your life that knew your true identity. To be the only person allowed to touch you.

It was wrong in so many ways, but you couldn't help but submit to him. The way his lengthy cock slammed against your cervix was enough to make you fall for his spell.

"Good girl. Good.." He grunted, feeling you clench around him and practically milk the semen right out of him as you also reached your limit. Your moans rivaled with ones of a pornstar's as you felt him release his warm, sticky seed into your womb.

He found himself reluctantly pulling his dick out of the warmth of your hole, almost cringing at the feeling of the cool air as soon as he pulled out. Meanwhile, you were finally beginning to come to your senses and realize how fucked up all of this was. The now masked man simply just sighed, walking away from the desk that you laid atop.

"I'm going off to take a shower. If I come back and you're not changed and cleaned up, there will be further punishments."

This was not how you expected this to play out.

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 5 years ago

Text

Getting away with it (1/?)

Summary: August Walker was dead. At least that’s what people believed for almost 2 years. When the CIA found reason to believe that he was alive they made it their top priority to find him. Including sending one of their best female agents to recruit his twin brother. Walter Marshall.

Pairing: August Walker x Reader (Walker) + Walter Marshall x Reader (Walker)

Warnings: none yet

Wordcount: 1.893

A/N: I swore to myself to never write a series again, yet here we are. Got a feeling that this is going to be a long one. This is more like an prologue. Updates hopefully coming every Wednesday. Hope you enjoy it x

Masterlist

Taglist:

@ladyreapermc / @theolsdalova / @greenmanalishi / @itsmydreamlifethings / @palaiasaurus64 / @celestial-vomit / @penwieldingdreamer/ @notyourtypicalrose / @babypink224221 / @fanficsrusz / @solariumss / @starlite13 / @ly--canthrope / @mytbel0st / @oddsnendsfanfics / @ravenpuff02 / @sofiebstar / @chamomilebottom / @keiva1000 / @agniavateira / @peaceinourtime82 / @dearlybelovedluke / @vania-marie / @wildwavehc / @fcgrizi / @mary-ann84 / @ayamenimthiriel / @radaofrivia / @ohjules/ @omgkatinka / @xceafh

@its-jb86 / @singeramg / @mrrightismrreeves (I can’t tag you guys. Sorry)

CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia

“We have reason to believe that August Walker is still alive.” The words seemed to quiet down the room. Swallowing her feelings, she felt the eyes of her superior Agent Miller on her. The man looked at her with caution, his eyes a silent warning. ‘Don’t do anything stupid’ they seemed to say. She nodded once at him before her eyes focused back on the person in front of her who briefed the team on what had happened and was supposed to be happening next.

Apparently August had been spotted in Quebec. Blurry photos had been taken and yes, it could be him.

She remembered his funeral. A funeral only a handful of people attended after word got out on who exactly August Walker was and what he had planned to do. She still couldn’t understand what on earth ran through his mind when he was planning to steal plutonium.

Closing her eyes for a brief moment she could see August in front of her, on the morning after they first had sex, him wearing her pink apron as he made breakfast while singing along to the radio. A morning almost 6 years ago. She didn’t know then how things would drastically change in the next years. She was in love with him. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. She knew the man he once was. And she still couldn’t believe she didn’t see the tiny changes in him. How he stayed away in the evenings. How he suddenly had a second phone. How all the passwords of his devices seemed to change regularly. Before she found out he also was John Lark, a terrorist he himself had been helping her to take down. Breathing in and out deeply she opened her eyes again, her stare becoming ice cold.

She would find him. And she would make sure he would pay for everything that he did.

A thick envelope was waiting for her on her desk when she got back to her office. Looking through the glass wall of her office she could see Agent Miller nodding a her, as she sat down, ripping the envelope open. A big classified case file fell to her desk. It was an old adoption record. Frowning she could see that there was a police file from the Minneapolis police department attached. Opening the file she gasped as she saw familiar blue eyes staring at her. Shaking her head she read through the first page. Detective Walter Marshall, born on June 21nd 1978, divorced, a daughter, working in homicide at the Minneapolis state police. She continued to read, remembering hearing about the case with the twin brothers he had been involved in. She didn’t know how long she sat there, reading. And trying to understand what she was reading. A knock on her door startled her. Agent Miller opened the door, closed it behind him and sat down on the chair in front of her.

“It’s not him.” She said right away.

“I know.” He sighed.

“How is this possible?” She asked.

“You knew August best. You knew he was adopted. That he didn’t know anything about his parents.”

“So August has a twin brother he doesn’t know about?” She asked.

“It seems like it, don’t you think?” The older man looked at her. Looking down at the picture of the man that looked so much like August she sighed.

“You want me to get him, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What makes you think he would be interested? My guess is you want to use him to find August. Why should it work with him, when it wasn’t when I....” She breathed in deep.

“When it wasn’t working before?” She asked.

“We have to take every possible opportunity and chance to find August. Walter Marshall has a brilliant record in tracking people down.”

“You want to use him, don’t you?”

“We need all the help we can get. Take a week off, take your daughter and drive down to Minneapolis. Try if you can find him.”

“He works at the police department. Why not use the official way?”

“Because this is not only a state matter, it’s a personal matter for you. Find him, get to know him. Find out if he has any idea about his ancestry. I trust you to know what to do. This might be our chance to finally get him.”

Slowly nodding she looked at Agent Miller.

“You want to recruit him.”

“If he is half as good as his brother, he will be an excellent addition to the CIA.”

“You’re not telling me everything, aren’t you?”

Agent Miller chuckled. Ever since she came from he academy she could see right through him. He couldn’t even imagine how she was feeling that she didn’t see all of this coming.

“You’re right. Bring him in, and I will answer every single question you have Agent Walker.”

....................................................................................................................

Minneapolis, Minnesota, 1 week later

“Mommy!” Evie giggled as Walker took a bite from the french fry Evie was just about to eat.

“You have to be quicker, Evie.” Walker grinned, chewing the fry. Evie narrowed her eyes, trying to look intimidating, which made her only look cuter with her blue eyes and dark locks.

“I love you Mommy, but don’t steal my food. Stealing is bad, you said it yourself.” Evie said strictly, making Walker try hard to suppress a giggle.

“Stealing is very bad, you are right. I’m sorry.” Walker kissed her cheek.

“I forgive you.” Evie sighed and continued to eat. Walker watched her daughter who looked so much like her father. She even had the same expression on her face when she ate. She would never understand how he could have left her and Evie on their own. How he could have tried to destroy the world his daughter was living in, just for some insane idea of bringing order to the world. A little part of her hoped she would see him again, just so she could punch him to death for the things she as his wife had to endure after his disappearance. She couldn’t even blame the CIA for thinking she must have been involved in all this Apostles mess. She would blame herself until the day she died that she didn’t notice it sooner.

“Finished.” Evie smiled and Walker noded.

“Let’s go see some sculptures.” Walker smiled, picking up their trash from the bench they were sitting on and reached her hand out to her daughter.

“Will there be bunnies?” Evie asked hopeful, looking up at her mother. Walker still didn’t know what her newest obsession with bunnies was, but it was definitely better than when she whined about wanting a snake a couple of weeks before.

“Let’s find out.”

.........................................................................................................................

“I’m sorry are these seats taken?” A female voice asked. Looking up Walter was about to say no when he saw that the woman was holding a child in her arms. He guessed the girl was about 4 years old, sleeping peacefully.

“Please sit, I’m almost finished with my lunch anyway.” He gestured towards the chair, making the woman nod thankful as she sat down, the girl in her arm only stirring for a second before she continued to sleep on the woman's shoulder.

“Took her to the sculpture garden today. Didn’t make it back to the hotel before the rain started.” She sighed, making Walter nod.

“Are you visiting the city?” He asked, bringing his coffee to his lips.

“Yeah. Little vacation before I start a new project at work.” She nodded. Walter looked at the woman who was looking lovingly down at her daughter. He guessed she was in her mid thirties, no ring on her finger, but he imprint still visible what either meant she was divorced or widowed. Somehow he thought it was the latter. She looked tired, the bags under her eyes weren’t easy to get within a few days. Her dark hair cling to her face, but that was thanks to the rain outside. Her green eyes seemed to scream of pain as she looked up at him.

“Can I invite you for a coffee?” Walter found himself asking.

“Oh. I wouldn’t want to hold you up from work, Officer…?” She asked.

“Detective Marshall.” He smiled. “And you’re not holding me up. There’s no way I will get to my car in this rain.”

“In that case… Can I get a tea instead?” The woman smiled.

“Sure. Mrs...” He nodded, looking at her daughter. She looked a lot like Faye when she was younger. The dark curls hiding her face as she was sleeping peacefully against her mother's shoulder.

“Walker.” She said quietly.

“Mrs. Walker.” He repeated, waving at the waitress.

“But friends can call me Walker.” She winked, making Walter chuckle.

“In that case I’m Marshall.” He said.

“Nice to meet you, Marshall.”

It was scary how similar yet different at the same time Marshall was in comparison to August. She almost felt like she was back in New York where she first met August as he was assigned her partner for a case. Her first case. He had taken her out to lunch the first day and they had spend the whole time talking about everything and nothing. A meeting she had repeated so often back in her head it was driving her insane.

“Walker?” She heard his deep voice.

“Yes? Sorry.” She shook her head, looking up into his eyes.

“You were gone there for a second.” He said, his blue eyes watching her. As she looked at him she could see that there was a hint of brown in his right eye.

“Yeah. Sorry. Long day.” More like long year. She added in her head.

“You telling me.” He said. “Anyway. I need to get back to work. It was nice meeting you. I hope you have fun in our city for the rest of your stay.”

“I am planning on it. Thank you for the tea.” She smiled a little. He liked how her whole face seemed to lighten up with even the little smile. By now he was pretty sure she had lost someone important to her. There seemed to be a mencholacy in every word she said.

“You are welcome.” He said, getting up. “If anyone makes you any trouble find me at the police station.” He joked making her chuckle.

“Aren’t you busy tracking down criminals?” She asked.

“I would make an exception.” He winked, before he nodded and walked out of the diner

She felt her daughter stir on her shoulder, thankful that she only woke up now. She had taken a risk getting into the diner when she saw him sitting inside. Looking so much like August, yet so different. That wasn’t something her four year old daughter Evie would understand. Why this man looked so much like her father. On the other hand it had been more than two years since Evie last had seen him. Only knowing him from the few pictures Walker hadn’t removed from the house.

“Daddy?” She mumbled, her eyes fluttering open.

“It’s only Mommy.” Walker smiled softly, pulling the dark locks out of her daughters face.

“Sounded like Daddy…” She yawned, making Walker sigh sadly.

“I know he did, Darling. I know.” Walker said quietly, kissing her daughters forehead.

#fanfiction #fanfic #august walker #walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #august walker x reader #henry cavill

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somebridgesburn · 5 years ago

Text

the moral of the story (it is cruel my dear)

So I wrote a fic and finished it, I don’t know who I am anymore. Jokes aside though, this might not only be the longest but also my favourite fic I’ve ever written. Also, I should probably have edited it properly but I was way too excited not to share it, so yeah.

warnings: angst, full on angst that I hope will rip your heart out (what else do you expect from me), also slight smut, language (and badly written dialogues)

7,137 words (yeah I don’t know how that happened either)

summary: How comforting it is, Steve thinks, that there are 14 million universes out there. How comforting it is to know that there must be a universe where he gets to love you.

He closes his eyes and lets his knees give in.

(there´s a lot of things Steve Rogers wishes he would have done differently)

How comforting it is, Steve thinks, that there are 14 million universes out there. How comforting it is to know that there must be a universe where he gets to love you.

He closes his eyes and lets his knees give in.

Life is easy at the Tower.

Steve wakes up at 5am sharp every morning and drinks two protein shakes before going on a run. He showers in a shower that is almost as big as his and Bucky's whole bathroom back in Brooklyn used to be. He ignores Tony's snarky remarks and pretends to understand Clint's pop culture references. He storms Hydra bases with his new team. He doesn't flinch anymore when Natasha appears out of nowhere.

Life is good. It's not the way it used be; with Bucky and the Commandos and their dirty jokes and laughter around camp fires all over Europe, but it's not his apartment in DC anymore either, with its walls that always seemed to be caving in on him, or doing Hydra's dirty work. Steve can work with that.

You're young, that's the first thing he notices about you.

Tony recruits you on a whim and before Steve even looks twice, you've moved into the Tower and you go on missions and you attend team game nights.

See, usually Steve would be mad, except that he can't be when he sees you; sees you fight, sees you with the team. Truth is, you fit right in.

You get all excited discussing science stuff with Bruce over dinner, measure your biceps against Thor's when he pays you one of his random visits, making his laugh thunder down the halls of the Tower, meal prep (whatever the fuck that is) with Natasha on Saturdays and Wednesdays; you're part of the team before Steve can even say you're not, and honestly, he can't even be mad about it.

Steve likes you. Until he doesn't.

***

See, you're nice, you're charming, everybody likes you, Steve likes you. You don't always follow orders and you have butted heads with a couple congress men before but that's okay. It's not good, but it's okay; Steve can work with that.

What he can't work with, however, is half-truths.

It all starts with a routine mission.

Storm Hydra base, get intel, blow it up; it's easy enough. You and Steve take the west wing, knocking out Hydra agents on your way down. Steve kicks one of the agents in the gut, tries to pry the arms of the other one off his throat, when he calls out for you for backup.

You don't answer.

He finally escapes out of the agent's choke hold and knocks him out, panting heavily, eyes scanning the room for you. You were on the other side of the room just a minute ago, but now you hover over another Hydra agent and you- you don't do anything. You look at him, gun hanging loosely by your side, as he says something to you, urgently, thoroughly.

Steve calls out your name again. You startle, as if pulled out of a daze and put a bullet through the agent's head. Steve furrows his brows, shooting you a questioning look. You look away.

“What was that”, he asks you, as you board the quinjet. You've been carefully avoiding him for the rest of the mission.

“What?”, you ask, looking up at him, slightly limping.

“You know exactly what I mean” His voice is harsh, your eyes widen, but these are the facts: He saw you hesitate. Those few seconds could have cost somebody's life.

“I don't think I do, Captain.”

“You hesitated!”, he grits out, “You hesitated taking out a hostile!”

“I- I was just out of it for a second, Cap”, you shrug, smiling a little and Steve doesn't believe a word you say.

“Don't lie to me”

“I-”

“Hey, hey, hey, what's going on?”, Tony interrupts you. He's looking between you and him, eyes furrowed.

You've gathered the attention of the whole team now, Natasha looking up from bandaging Clint's side, Bruce watching you from the cockpit, Thor awkwardly wringing his hands together.

“Oh, I don't know, I'm just wondering if she's compromised!” He gestures at you. Steve's irritated, angry even and his arm hurts where he got shot because you didn't cover him.

“What?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Hey, hey! Calm down everybody!”, Natasha barks, ”Steve?”

“She hesitated- she froze. A Hydra agent was talking to her and she listened! I could've-”

“She froze?”, Tony asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes.”, Steve says, tightening his jaw. You stare at the ground. He knows there's more to it.

“Well, happens to the best of us! No need to be a pussy about it, Capsicle”, Tony snaps and wraps an arm around you, telling you to sit down so he could examine you leg.

***

So, you used to be Hydra. Kind of, at least.

After the mission you sit down in the common room - the common room, not the conference room – and you have a pillow in your lap and offer cookies you baked yesterday as if you were going to have a girls night and talk about ex-boyfriends.

Clint is sprawled on the coach and pushing his feet in Natasha's lap, while she pushes them back down again. Steve balls his fists and raises his eyebrows at you. You take a deep breath; and then you spill.

You used to work as a scientist for an institution, completely oblivious to the fact that it was knees deep in business with Hydra. Then you found files, files about Hydra, files about your work being used by Hydra. You panicked. You didn't know any better and you panicked and you wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, so you quit.

“I was stupid”, you sigh, “I knew too much, probably even without having found the files. They took me before I could even leave the building.”

They know the rest, seeing as it actually is in your file. You were used as a test subject by Hydra, causing you to develop your powers. Months into your captivity you were rescued by another handler that wasn't better by much; there are aren't a lot of pretty things in you file.

Then Tony found you in Berlin, battered and bruised. It's a sob story, really.

“Why didn't you say something?” Steve's the first to break the silence after you finished.

“I didn't want to talk about it”, you say, stirring your tea with a spoon, not even looking up.

“You didn't want to talk about it? That's it? That's why you lied to all of us?”

“I didn't lie”

“You said you- ”

“I didn't say anything, you assumed” You press your lips together. You're angry now, too, Steve realises. “also, Fury knew.”

It's not a big deal to Natasha because she knows, because Steve probably doesn't want to know about all of the half-truths and lies she serves them on a regular basis, it's not a big deal to Tony because Tony loves you, Tony put his eyes on you and basically adopted you and it's not like anything bad happened, Cap and it's not a big deal to anyone else either because apparently all you have to do is laugh a little and bake a couple cookies and it's all forget, forgive.

Well, guess what. It's a big fucking deal to Steve.

Maybe he's over-reacting. He knows better than to assume that what stands in Natasha's file is always accurate and he's pretty sure there's more to Clint than he knows, too.

But still, there's more to it. Steve knows there's more and you're still not telling everything. And he doesn't know you long enough to trust you despite of it- or maybe he doesn't want to in the first place.

You're everywhere.

The following days Steve tries to avoid you, tries to be civil about it in the most middleschool-ish way he knows because he might just yell at you again when he sees your face and he's trying not to do that.

But you make it damn hard not to.

You're sparring with Natasha when Steve wanted to and you're cooking breakfast when Steve wanted to make himself eggs and then he's done because Sam cancels their morning run on Thursday; Sam can't go on a run with him because he wants to go running with you because he's concerned after hearing your sob story and wants to make sure you're alright.

Maybe it's not even just about that one mission – maybe it's also about how you just made yourself part of the team, how you invaded every part of their lives from to without asking and now you can't even be trusted, now you endanger missions, now Steve has to write longer mission reports because of your goddamn recklessness (“as if you're the one to talk, Rogers-”).

There's nothing about you that doesn't annoy Steve anymore.

He doesn't think you're adorable. He doesn't think you're funny. You're too sarcastic and too much of a know-it-all and Steve doesn't even get half of your jokes.

It's different now. Team dinner are tense because you either had a fight before or he is pissed at you for making Natasha smile that much. Briefings are tense, missions are tense, everything is tense once you and Steve are in the same room.

He knows he should feel sorry for it, feel sorry at least for everyone else, but he doesn't. You roll your eyes at him when he asks for the salt.

***

He wishes he could say it happened differently.

If he were a better man, if he were the man everyone thinks he is, maybe he could. But he isn´t, so the first time he kisses you is the first time you fuck, and the first time you fuck is against a wall and it hasn´t anything to do with love or feeling and everything with the fight you just had. It´s fast and rough an it´s dirty and in hindsight, he hates himself a little for it, for not giving you what you deserve, for ruining it from the start (it probably was already ruined way before that).

***

So you fuck now.

Not routinely, not exclusively, but you do. Who would have thought, huh.

It's mostly just getting rid of boiled up frustration, blowing off steam after a mission or a fight or, most of them time, both.

You're more civil with each other now at least, too. You still snap, you still argue, but not to a degree where it's uncomfortable for anyone to be around the two of you.

You're still annoying but there are other ways your mouth actually can be useful, Steve found out and he's okay with that.

***

“You knew him”, Steve says as he's kissing down your neck.

“What?”, your voice is breathy and he knows you're not really paying attention. It's low, using sex to get information out of you but he had to, he saw an opportunity and he had to take it.

“The Hydra agent. At the warehouse. You hesitated, you knew him.” He's still trailing kisses down your body, travelling lower and lower but you stiffen underneath him.

“Steve, stop”, you say, pushing at his shoulders, “what the fuck?”

He stops at your belly button, looking up when he says, “what, you used to fuck him?”

You freeze.

“Fuck”, Steve hisses, jumping from the bed, before you can open your mouth, trying to deny it. “fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He hadn't meant it as a serious question, hadn't even considered it as a possibility. He din't even know what had gotten into him, it was supposed to be just another insult, irritating you.

“Rogers”, your voice is quiet and cold, eyes calculating as you watch him pace. You're still naked from the waist up.

He's been looking for a reason to mistrust, to dislike you for so long now but he didn't want to find one, he realises now.

“I didn't-”, he starts, running his fingers through his hair, “fuck!”, he yells again.

You don't say anything. The door slips shut too quietly after him.

You find him in the kitchen. It's just past 3am when he hears your light footsteps on the hardwood floor. He doesn't look up, only hears you sit down on the kitchen aisle, one seat between you.

“He was a co-worker. We started going out three weeks after I started working there. I liked him, I really did.”

“I thought liked me, too, you know, I though it was really something. But turns out he was just keeping tabs on me the whole time.”, you add quietly. Your voice doesn't quiver but Steve can hear the heartbreak, the betrayal netherless.

“It sucked, making all of these friends, trusting all of these people only for it to turn out they'd solely been using me the whole time.”, you sigh, “What I want to say though- I know you're going to tell everybody and you got every reason to. You're not going to trust me at all anymore and I understand it, I do, but I just- it doesn't change anything. This team, it- My loyalty is with you.”

“Does Fury know?”, he asks, finally speaking up.

“I don't know”, you shrug, “probably”

You both sit in silence for a long while after that.

As it turns out, Fury does indeed know.

Steve steps out of the elevator, just having come back from his office and he sees you pouring a cup of coffee, laughing with Bruce at Clint's antics.

Fury knows, Steve figures. The team doesn't have to.

***

“Fuck”, Steve swears and the corners of your mouth curl upwards.

“This isn't funny”, he spits out, pressing your hips further into the desk.

“Sure it isn't, Captain.” Lazy smile still forming on your lips

“Stop it. Stop pretending everything is a joke to you!”

“I'm not.”

“You endangered the mission. Do you even know what that means? What could have happened?” He rips off your blouse, ignores you snarling when buttons spring off, and discards it on the floor.

“I didn't. Endanger the mission.”

He huffs, unbelieving and turns you around, hands tracing over your ass, grabs a handful when you start speaking again.

“I- uh- would have gotten the job done either way.”, you say between breaths, hips rocking into his.

“Yeah, but you could have gotten yourself killed”, he hisses.

“As if you care about that”

“Of course I care about that!”Steve grits out forcefully and freezes.

You use that moments to flip you around, Steve now presses to the edge of the desk.

“I care about my team”, he retorts lamely, when he finally recovers.

“Whatever you say, Captain”, you snort and push down his pants, stealing any further words out of his mouth.

***

You still haven't stopped. In the back of his mind, Steve knows you should. You shouldn't even have started this whole thing in the first place. But the thing with your co-worker, that should have put it to an end for good. It didn't though.

It took a few days for you to stop dancing around each other to go back to normal again, took a rather strong disagreement on tactics and Steve bending you over the conference table for you to go back to sarcastic comments and borderline hostility again.

But still, it changed something.

“I still don't get why you hate her, man”, Sam says, sipping his beer, after Steve snapped at you.

He catches himself before he can say me neither.

He thinks about what you said. About him caring about you. He thinks about it, a lot (too much).

Here's the conclusion he draws: it's strictly professional, of course.

If you die, he failed as a team leader. If something happened to you, the mission probably wouldn't be accomplished. If you got killed, it would add further conflict among the team, which is the last thing they need.

He finds himself looking for reasons to get angry at you so he can feel you smooth skin underneath his hands again.

He thinks about you, more often than not. Your hands, your hair, your lips, your laugh- he shakes his head, no.

He jerks off, determined not to go to you, determined to not think of you and still, still his mind wanders to your lips, your hands tracing his chest, the little sounds you make, the little smile on your face afterwards when you thought he wasn't looking – he spills into his hand.

“Fuck”, he says to an empty room.

Here's the ugly truth: you matter to Steve and he doesn't want you to.

And maybe the reasonable, sensible approach would be to stop whatever the two of you are doing; no more hate sex and spiteful comments.

It's what Sam, or anyone with some resemblance of common sense, really, would tell him to do but Steve can't bring himself to do it, can't bring himself to actually tell Sam about it either though because he's ashamed.

Instead he pushes you into a closet, manhandling you roughly, when you do something thoughtful for Wanda.

He wants to hold your hand and squeezes your thigh under the table instead.

You laugh against his lips when he stumbles over a box lying on his floor and Steve thinks IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.

He kisses you frantically before the words can spill out of him.

(Captain America's healthy way of dealing with feelings 101)

“He was everything”, Steve says quietly and meets your eyes. You're close, too close. All things considered, you have been a lot closer and it shouldn't matter but this feels different.

This is different, with the two of you the only ones left in the kitchen, Bucky's files spread out on the table and Steve's heart on his sleeve. You're inches away and really, in comparison, it's nothing to freak out about, but now, you're looking at Steve, really looking and it's soft, tender, almost- loving.

It's so intimate that Steve feels like he has to ruin it with mean comment but you take his face in your hands and close the gap.

It's slow that night, for the first time, it's slow. You squeeze his hand when it finds yours.

***

You choose Tony and Steve doesn't know if he can blame you for it.

He knows that he wants to, but there's still enough righteousness in him left to remind him that there might be a lot of things Steve wishes to be to you, but there are only a few that he is actually is.

And then he thinks of Tony and your ever-ongoing banters, him nudging your shoulder playfully, all the times he's found the two of you sitting at the kitchen counter, each nursing a cup of coffee at ungodly hours, just having resurfaced from the lab. Steve wasn't the only one to spend nights with you in some way or another and somehow he can't help thinking that Tony and yours were much more precious.

He doesn't know a lot about your and Tony's relationship, never cared to ask, but he knows that you don't have any family left and Stark got you out of a really ugly situation; he sees the light teasing and easy smiles and fond-yet-exasperated looks shared between you (and everything else yours and Steve´s relationship lacks).

Tony's like a father to you, and nothing that Steve is could ever come close to that.

Of course you'd choose Tony and Steve has no right to be mad about it.

If it were for anyone else picking Stark's side, it'd be no problem. Steve´s put all of them in this position, Steve understands, doesn't blame them, doesn't take it personal.

But with you, it stings. It stings more than he's ever willing to admit.

***

Being on the run changed him. He can see it in the mirror, his hair and beard longer now than they've ever been, he can feel it when they are storming Hydra bases and he strangles a man with his bare hands without batting an eye and he can see it in Natasha's eyes when he meets her gaze afterwards.

He´s vicious and ruthless and angry. Steve is so angry it burns in his bones and ignites the pit of his stomach and there is not a number of Hydra members he can kill or hours of sparring he can spend with Natasha that are ever going to ease that feeling. He´s angry at the government, at Tony, at Hydra, at Zola for doing this to Bucky, at a god he stopped believing somewhere between when everything he fought for, died for turned out to be a lie and aliens started to fall out of the sky, at everything, at anyone (at you, at you, at you).

***

He sees you again in Stockholm and for a moment he panics.

It's a small bar and you spot him immediately, beard and ballcap be damned. You haven't been looking for him though, he can tell by the look of surprise swiftly crossing your features.

“Here to arrest me?”, he jokes without humour when you take a seat at the bar next to him.

“No”, you answer, completely serious, “I won't”

Because you could. You could call someone right now and in a matter of hours they'd be behind bars. Or you could give them a head start and tell on them when you were back in New York.

Hell, you probably should, God knows what trouble you could get into if someone found out you'd let him go.

But you won't, Steve knows you won't.

You're starring at him, but Steve knows he's no better himself. Your hair's a little shorter now and you look tired.

“What are you doing here?”, he asks, only to break the silence, to force himself to stop starring.

You smile. You can't tell him and he knows.

When your hand finds his, he laces your fingers together before he can top himself.

“I miss you”, you whisper so quietly Steve would have missed it if it weren't for his enhanced hearing.

You brush your thumb over the back of his hand before he feels your hand slip out of his. You're gone a moment later.

“You know it's okay if you need a weekend away”, Natasha suddenly says from behind him. He didn't hear her coming and honestly, he hasn't had it in him to be surprised by that for a long time now.

A weekend away. He knows what she's implying and he almost smirks because for once, Natasha is wrong. Still, he allows himself to think about it for a moment, you and him, hauled up in a hotel room somewhere in Spain. Wanda has hers in Scottland, Natasha has her in Iowa. He could have his with you. He can't though, he can't.

“How do you know?” No one knows. They've always kept quiet, but really, he shouldn't be surprised, it's Natasha.

She snorts, and takes another gulp of his whiskey, obviously not planning on answering. When she looks up again her smile turns wry, and maybe a little sad, “your eyes, Rogers, your eyes.”

“It's- we're not- we've never been-” he says, sighs and honestly, what surprises him even more is that Natasha seems to be surprised at that.

“Oh”, she says, and after a moment, “you're angry at her.”

“Yeah”, Steve sighs, and he feels every single one of his hundred years on this earth, “Guess I'm never not”

Natasha breaths out through her nose and it's silent for a moment.

“Yeah, I get that”

The words are so quiet he almost doesn't hear them. He doesn't understand for a moment but then he thinks of Peggy's funeral and the bitterness in Natasha's voice, says he's retired, and of the hotel room in Vienna and the cracks in the screen of her phone after she threw it against a wall, says he's taking the house arrest.

He reaches over, squeezing her hand and Natasha looks up to the ceiling.

***

You meet again in Wakanda.

“Steve”, you say, nodding your head. Your hair is shorter now, not even reaching your shoulders and Steve, Steve has images, memories in his head of your hair falling around your face when you sat on top of him, leaning down to kiss his chest, your hair tangles in his fingers, your hair-

He says your name in return and he hates how it sounds a little to breathy, a little too low and most of all he hates how he knows that you know.

You fuck again that night.

Maybe it isn't the rational, the right decision to make, but the world is ending and you show up at his door in the middle of the night, hair tangled and just as unable to find sleep as him and Steve would be lying if he says that he hasn´t missed you like a starving man.

The first time is for getting it out of your system. Hands reaching, clinging, grabbing, desperate, so, so desperate, and fast and angry and almost violent. So many years missed, spent thinking, longing for this, for you.

The second time is for holding on.

It's desperate in different way. Soft and clinging, refusing to let go, refusing to let this be the end.

End of the world sex, Steve thinks and he almost wants to laugh at that except there isn't anything to laugh at left.

“What's up”, he asks, half propped up on his elbow, staring openly at your naked form, sitting on the edge of the bed. Your head is buried in your hands and your back is turned towards him and you are so, so beautiful.

You lift your head up at his question and look at him for a long time with a look in your eyes Steve doesn't recognize. You kiss him then.

The third time is for saying goodbye.

It's slow and feverish until it's fast and soft. You kiss him, god, you kiss him and he can't get enough, he can't get enough, it will never be enough except this time, it has to be. This time might just be the last time he'll feel you shaking apart in his arms.

He remembers when he longed for something like this, something, anything, that would make him feel.

Back when he still felt so stuck in a time he didn´t belong, felt so stuck that he couldn´t breathe; back in his apartment in D.C. and with this job at SHIELD that wasn´t really anything but better than nothing and instant noodles for dinner.

Back when he had this life that wasn´t much of a life; but at least he still could believe that what he was doing what was right, at least he could still fill his days with dreams about Peggy, a matching gold band on her finger and Bucky living next door. A distant ache, bearable, at least, and just enough to make him feel something.

He looks at your sleeping form now, brows still furrowed in your sleep and he thinks his heart might just shut down. Now, Steve feels and he feels so much that he almost wishes it would just stop again.

Someone should have told Steve Rogers to be careful what he wished for.

***

Maybe it would have worked with the two of you, Steve remembers thinking, lying in that bed in Wakanda, your warm body pressed into his side.

If things wouldn't have turned out the way they did, if you hadn't hurt, hadn't damaged each other this much.

Maybe it would work now, he had thought, if you both made it out of here alive, maybe it would work then.

***

Half of earth´s population is gone and Steve Rogers has lost Bucky Barnes yet another time.

You are descending from the Quinjet, bruised and broken, all hope drained out of you.

You haven't looked each other in the eyes since it's all been done. The dust, your friends, are still stuck in your hair and Steve feels sick.

You are descending off the quinjet and there's a guy running towards you. Steve's confused for a moment but then he wraps you into a bruising hug. He pulls away a little, says something that makes you nod and slips his arm around your waist, gripping your hip in a way that Steve doesn't like.

“This is Jonathan”, you say and Steve feels like he is falling.

***

The four years are long.

At first he doesn't even try. Gives in to his grief, his self-pity, Natasha only puts a stop to it when he starts growing out his beard again.

They lost. He lost Bucky, he lost Sam, he lost Tony. He lost and half the universe died.

He lost you, too. Except that's the one thing Steve doesn't blame himself for, not when he can blame you, not when he can be angry at someone else.

Steve Rogers is a lot of things and he doesn´t like all of them, but he is not a cheater. He is honest and good, if flawed, but he is not a cheater and you made him one.

(He doesn't know how to forgive you for that)

(Most of all, it hurts that you took something, that night, that had been something so precious, almost sacred to Steve, to you, too, he had thought, and turned it into something dirty, something to regret)

He runs. He founds a self-help group. He moves into a place downtown because he can't look at Sam's old coffee cups every morning. He talks about Peggy because people want him to talk and Peggy's an old ache, painful but manageable, not the flaming white pain Steve feels when he thinks about anything else these days.

Natasha sometimes drops your name in conversations, saying something like “She and Jonathan broke up”, almost as if she was testing the waters, as if she was provoking him a little, gauging his reaction.

Truth is, he doesn´t know how to react. There are feelings over feelings in his chest when he hears your name and he doesn´t know what do with them.

***

You do not apologize.

Steve doesn´t see you for two years after the day on the platform (after you left with Jonathan, fucking Jonathan, who had his arm slung around your waist)

You are somewhere in Europe and he doesn't know what you are doing because the last time Natasha told him something about you, in that not-so-subtle-casually-dropping-your-name-way (She bought brown curtains last week as well and-).

And Steve really doesn't want to think about you or your stupid curtains that you probably hung up in your living room in a small house with an open kitchen and a front yard somewhere in fucking Europe, while Jonathan cooks you dinner.

The curtains in your old room were red.

You show up in April.

You are standing in the middle of the room, leaning against the table, arms crossed in front of your chest, casually conversing with Rhodey like you hadn't been gone for two years.

Steve can feel the anger in his chest rising just looking at you. You are wearing black boots and a blouse and your hair is pulled back neatly and you do not look like you've been depressed or sleep-deprived or affected in any way, of course.

You are living somewhere in France or Austria or the Netherlands with your boyfriend and two dogs and your fucking brown curtains (he knows you like cats more, he knows that you and Jonathan broke up, but still) and you are fine, while all of them are struggling, suffering, barely making it through the day, but still trying to hold everything upright.

You just upped and left without a single care in the world about, oh, you know, half of earth's deceased population, all of its consequences, the Avengers, all of the dead Avengers (about Steve).

Steve knows that maybe his isn't being entirely fair, but maybe he also doesn't give a single shit about fair and right at the moment. At the moment, he's just angry.

He's still standing in the door, watching you, ignoring Natasha's prying gaze burning through him.

You still haven't seen him yet.

(He wonders if you ever really will)

You do not apologize.

Not in the weeks to come, probably won't ever. You stay at the Compound, help Natasha out, try to settle in a new routine. You're back, just like that.

As if the world didn't end and you just left all of them without a second thought, as if you didn't use Steve, didn't cheat on someone with him, as if nothing had ever happened.

You're indifferent to him. You're polite but don't seek out conversation, you ignore his jabs and offer him dinner when he comes to do his laundry.

You're real mature about all of this and it pisses Steve off to no end because he's the mature one, he's the one who usually knows better.

It pisses him off because he's in pieces while you don't care.

It pisses him off because you hurt him, he let you in and you hurt him and now you pretend nothing ever happened.

Maybe you figured it didn't count, on the verge of death. Maybe you thought you'd die anyways so you wouldn't have to deal with the aftermath. Maybe you figured Steve would die and never find out.

Or maybe, maybe you just didn't think, like you always do, maybe you were just reckless for a moment and now Steve's paying for it (like he always does).

***

“I can't forgive you”, he whispers against your lips and you probably know that already because you don't react, don't flinch, don't answer, just pull him into an even harder kiss.

His words don't sting and he's starting to think maybe he wants them to.

Wants to hurt you, a little bit. Not physically, Steve isn't that low of a man, but maybe he wishes his words would sting, would hurt you, haunt you, like every syllable from your lips does with him.

(maybe he just wants to see that you care)

***

Perhaps he hates you, Steve thinks, while he is swivelling the drink in his hands, and he almost wants to laugh at the irony. You've come a full circle now, he's hated you, then he's loved you and now he hates you again (only that he hasn't stopped loving you either and he hasn't entirely worked out how that is supposed to be possible, how his heart is supposed to take that).

Someone else's hands are tracing over his chest, someone else's body is lying on his mattress, in his bed and he can almost feel you.

He hopes that you can hear him fucking another girl.

He imagines you lying on the other side of the wall, listening to her moans, his grunts, his name rolling off her lips, all breathy and high on pleasure.

He hopes there's anger and regret cursing through you, eating you up and the thought of it is enough for him to get it up. (No, he has no interest in exploring that thought further)

He says your name when he comes.

(And it hurts, it hurts that he still loves you despite it all)

***

He misses Bucky.

That's what the Snap did, he thinks bitterly, it took away half of the people he loved and made him hate the rest.

***

Steve looks at you smiling at Natasha, cutting up onions, half-heartedly trying to get back into meal prepping and he wants to say fuck you. He wants to scream it off the rooftops, in your face, in front of the whole team. Fuck you, he wants to say, fuck you for using him, for doing this to him and still claiming his heart. The words taste bitter when he swallows them down.

You are staring at the file lying on the table and he is staring at you.

You huff, shaking your head a little in frustration before you meet his eyes again and Steve wants to say kiss me, please, please, kiss him, kiss him so you can forget, kiss him so you can make everything alright again but he doesn't, he won't and the words are eating him up alive.

You are looking at the photos of Morgan Pepper sent and your lips in curve in a funny way and your eyes crinkle and Steve's not sure whether you're holding back tears or laughter and it's right there on the tip of his tongue, because most of all, most of all he wants to say I forgive you, you're not sorry but I still forgive you.

***

He's punishing you.

Except that you don't care and he's really just punishing himself.

***

“This needs to stop”, Natasha says three months after you moved back into the Compound.

He just snorts in return, not bothering to look up from the stack of papers in front of him.

“Steve”, he hears her sigh, feels her settle next to him on the couch, “you know this isn't helping anyone.”

“What? You're on her side now?”

“No, I'm on no one's side, Steve. I'm just saying the shit you're pulling right now is hurting you, the both of you.”

He thinks about your cold, neutral demeanour, you not looking at him

“It doesn't”, he retorts without missing a beat.

“It does”

“What do you even know about any of this”, he hisses, but then he thinks of all of the voice mails he's heard Natasha leave on Clint's phone late at night and he wishes he could take it back.

Natasha huffs, “Just... Just don't do something you'll regret”, she says in the end and Steve thinks it's much too late for that.

***

He finds you crying. Curled up on the gym floor, knuckles bleeding, sandbag ripped open.

You flinch away from his touch, finally meeting his eyes. Your eyes are watery, cheeks tear stained and Steve's has never seen you looking so vulnerable, so hurt (so beautiful).

Maybe he isn't the only one who is suffering after all.

He doesn't feel the satisfaction he thought he would upon that realisation.

“Are you content now?”, you snap, as if reading his thoughts.

Steve finds he can't bring himself to say yes, wonders what he is even doing all of this for then.

***

“You used me!”, he yells, his voice echoing off the empty walls.

“I didn't” You are not loud but there is so much venom in your voice that it silences Steve all the same, chest heaving, jaw clenched.

“I didn't”, you repeat, “but you are too full of yourself to ever stop for a moment and think that maybe you aren't right”

“Oh, enlighten me then! Enlighten me on how you could possibly be the victim here again!”

You open your mouth and he could scream at your self-rightousness after all of this you still can't admit that you fucked up.

“You know what, don't. Don't even try to talk yourself out of this, I don't even wanna hear it.”

Rhodey's phone rings, cutting through the deafening silence.

You are gone the next morning.

***

You're back together with Jonathan. He overheard phone calls and there's a sinking feeling in his chest he has no right to feel but it's okay because Steve has a lot of other neglected grief and emotions to deal with in an unhealthy manner first.

Natasha doesn't want to tell him anything this time around and it's probably for the better.

“You don't wanna do that to yourself again, Steve”, she sighs and starts cutting up sandwiches because Steve is way too old to have that big of a food-equals-happiness-reaction but he does and she's smart like that.

***

“I do not owe you anything”, you say out of the blue, as you stripe on your suit, “after all of this I really don't.”

Your hair is much shorter now, too short to pull it back.

Steve hasn't seen you since he yelled at you two years ago, didn't think he would ever again, but then time travel was a real thing and Tony gave him his shield back and you were leaning against the countertops, talking to Bruce.

You look tired. There are the faintest wrinkles around your eyes now and you are tired to your bones but you are doing this anyway.

He opens his mouth, snarky remark on his tongue, when you speak again.

“Jonathan was never really something before Wakanda.” You meet his eyes, almost as if challenging him and Steve can't think of a single thing to say.

All this time, all this missed time, spent hating you, when he could have just loved you.

He knows then that this, whatever this is between the two of you, is done. It should have been for a very long time now, but truth is, it never was.

Even when he hated you, hated you with all of his being, it was always you Steve Rogers imagined whispering dirty things in his ear. Even when he didn't want to, hated himself for it, would have denied it to his last breath, he loved you.

And god, he still does and maybe you do, too, but Steve knows in this very moment that you will never, ever want to again, not after all of the hurt he's caused you, not after he's crucified you for nothing for all of these years. He feels sick to his stomach, with the finality of it all.

It takes him a moment to regain his voice, it's hoarse and rough, when he speaks, “not really something?”

“I'm not saying I'm innocent – but I sure as hell didn't deserve all of that shit.”, you say, shrugging.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Would you have listened?”, you retort and he hates that he knows the answer.

“You could have tried harder”, he says then, voice still hoarse, because he's still not entirely done with not taking any of the blame.

You zip up the rest of your suit. You are going to travel in time. It doesn't sound right, no matter how many times you repeat it.

“Yeah”, you say, a strange look crossing your features and he knows you're not just talking about Jonathan anymore, “we both could have.”

***

“He loved you in every single one of them”, Strange says and Pepper smiles and Steve thinks he´d be content if he´d get just one of them, if he could just love you in this one.

***

Steve knows he´s too late when he starts running.

He watches you fall, blood splattering and he can feel the vomit coming up his throat. He can hear someone screaming and it takes him a moment to realise that it's him.

There's smoke everywhere, bodies everywhere and his lungs are burning, his feet stumbling, almost giving out from under him.

He's almost there, almost there and still not close enough, when your limp body hits the ground.

There's blood, so much blood and Steve is too late.

How comforting it is, Steve thinks, to know that there are 14 million universes out there. How comforting it is to know that there must be a universe where he gets to love you.

He closes his eyes and lets his knees give in.

(The moral of the story is that they loved and it didn´t matter)

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #steve x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers reader insert #clintasha #writing #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #endgame #infinity war

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mydrug-is-dragonage · 4 years ago

Text

Veda Adaar, After the Exalted Council

The first few weeks, Thom had hardly left my side, bringing me meals, preparing my baths, redressing my bandages. He moved slowly, sure of each action, careful to read my reactions. We often sat in silence. Spring rain falling, washing Skyhold clean, he and I made our way down the steps, back to his old barn. The horses still around, Master Dennet returned to his wife and daughter, now grown. Thom helped me up the stairs, we laid on hay and listened to the sound of rain on the roof. We didn’t have words. I reached over and put a hand on his.

“Veda,” he started. I shook my head. “Not yet?”

“No,” I said, “what do we even start with?”

“It’s only been two weeks. Every wound is still fresh.” A small exhaled laugh escaped me. “I didn’t mean just physically.” I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. My eyes welled and tears began to fall down my face. “You have survived a hundred things meant to kill you. You will survive this too.” I moved towards him, he put his arm around me and I nestled into his chest.

“Imagine if they saw the mighty inquisitor now,” I laughed. I snorted away the dripping from my tears. “They’d be so pleased to see how far I’d fallen.”

He shushed me. “Anyone who sees you and doesn’t have their heart broken for you is no one worth knowing. You and the Inquisition have more than proved your worth.”

“Oh yeah, me, the great one-armed mage-warrior who can barely carry a staff in battle and the Inquisition, four agents and their maimed leader.”

“You’re hurt. You’re hurting. You aren’t lesser just because you’ve lost a hand.” I sighed, blinked my eyes. “You were able to forgive me for crimes I didn’t even commit against you, but you can’t forgive yourself for things that happened to you.” I started to open my mouth. “No, Veda. Sit in the grief. Don’t wallow like a pig in shit. Sit in it. Feel the pain. There will be life after this, just as there was life before.” He put his arm back out, and I turned towards him and cried in his chest.

We didn’t discuss when he’d leave. I knew he’d get going again, inevitable continuance of life. The day he packed his things to go, I leaned against the wall in the barn, arms crossed. My fingers rubbed the bandages, perhaps the last ones he’d prepare for me. “Do you know where you’re going first?” I asked.

“Cullen’s invited me down to his home for the Templars. Going to see what good I can do there.”

“You could do good, here,” I said.

“I could,” he said, he stopped packing and looked towards the wall, then to me, “but I think you need some time.”

“Time?”

“You have to learn how to be Veda, again.”

I snorted, “I’ve been Veda this whole time.”

“No, you haven’t been Veda since Haven. I remember her, the girl you were. Barely 18, green, flirting with me while I helped the recruits fight bandits. You were so sure of yourself, the way children always are.”

“I didn’t flirt,” I said, “and I wasn’t a child. I’d been in different companies on and off for three years at that point.”

“You were experienced, but you were a child. You still are, in some ways, Veda. You were meant to be the Inquisitor, but you shouldn’t have had to be.”

“It wasn’t all bad,” I said. “I made some wonderful friendships. I became a household name. I became so much.”

“And you never got to figure out who you were. You had some time, those few years, you and Bull fighting demons and settling petty disputes. You started to get a feel for who you were. I remember the first time I came back, me, you, Cassandra. Divine Victoria returning for a visit. Bull pouring drinks, Varric dealing a hand for Wicked Grace, Sera drunk and happy hanging on Dagna. I saw you being yourself for a moment. No longer the Inquisitor or the mercenary or a child. Just being Veda, a young woman surrounded by her friends. The teenager you should have been all those years ago. But something always called you away, the mask returned. You give Orlesians a run for their money.”

The sound of Bull’s name caused me to swallow. Skyhold felt emptier. The masses had left, but they weren’t what made our home hollow. I reached up, felt the groove in my horn. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I shouldn’t have mentioned him.” His voice was sharper, his body stiffened.

“You don’t have to be angry for me.”

“I do, until you’re ready to be angry.”

“I don’t know when I’ll be angry,” I said. “I want to be, some times. I want to scream and curse his name. I want him to suffer. Sometimes I start to pray that he doesn’t return to the Maker’s side.”

“But you never do.” “But I never do.”

“One day you will,” he said. “It won’t have made your love any less real. It won’t have made what you had any less important. But one day you’ll finally be angry. Then, some time after that, the anger, too, will pass.”

“You sound so certain.”

“I have practice mourning.” I walked up to him. He turned towards me and we embraced.

“Thank you, Thom.”

“Always a pleasure, my lady Inquisitor.”

Skyhold felt emptier then. The few of us who remained settled into routines. Lace and I in the war room, Dagna fiddling with her contraptions. Visitors stopped by, Skyhold remained a pilgrimage of sorts. Lace learned how to read me, when I could greet people, when I needed to be left alone. Lace, the kind woman, had become my greatest ally. We sat comfortably in silence. She was one of the few people unafraid to still make me laugh. She told me stories of growing up near Redcliffe, the way winters made spring worth the wait.

Six weeks had gone by. The world had resumed, Thom had been gone for a fortnight. I found it harder to go up and down the many stairs of Skyhold. When sitting in Dorian’s nook, I found myself exhausted, inclined to sleep instead of read. At first, I cursed my arm. Being functionally decommissioned had rendered me lazy. But it’d only been six weeks, it hadn’t been long enough for me to lose years of strength overnight. Lace woke me up early, and we went for a walk along the battlements. The sun began to rise over the mountain tops. “I’m still not used to how beautiful it is here,” she said.

I smiled and looked down at her, “I hope I never get used to it.”

“Do you think we’ll move on, eventually?”

“I think Skyhold will be ours. A headquarters, I guess.”

“Good,” she said, “I’ve really settled into Divine Victoria’s quarters.” We laughed, and the nausea came upon me. I tried to compose myself, hoping it’d pass, but I felt the churning rising from my stomach and I ran to the edge. When I finished being sick, Lace turned to me. “You okay, V? Is it something you ate?”

I wiped my mouth and put a hand out for her waterskin. “I don’t think so. I’ve felt so awful the last couple weeks. Exhausted, now this.” I rinsed my mouth, then drank from the bag.

Lace pursed her lips and looked towards the sky. “What?” I asked.

“Well, V, Veda, Inquisitor.”

“Lace, what?”

“Have you considered,” she started.

“Considered what?” I asked, the curtness of my voice surprising me.

“You may, in fact, be with child?”

“What? No, that couldn’t be,” I said, shaking the thought from my mind.

“You’re tired, you’re sick. Unless the birds are especially lively you have had sex.”

“Not since,” I started and let myself trail off. “Lace, a healer. Discreet. Someone Leliana would trust.”

“Understood.”

It was a long week. The nausea came and went, my breasts began to swell. I closed my eyes to it. When Lace and I attempted to spar, the easiest maneuvers left me tired. I sat in the grand hall, near the fireplace. People came and went, carrying food or supplies, maps or documents. Lace approached me. “The healer is here, V.”

“Let’s go to my room. More privacy,” I said. She nodded.

In my bedroom, I lay on the bed. Lace sat towards my feet. The healer looked up at me and smiled. “I’m going to touch your stomach, is that alright?” I nodded and she ran her hands along my belly.

The time passed slowly, I felt myself breathless and she moved her hands, the magic permeating my body. She moved her fingers precisely, lingering in certain spots. After a few moments, she pulled her hands away and stepped back. “Congratulations,” she said.

I swallowed. “Congratulations?”

“You’re expecting. The baby feels healthy.” She smiled. I looked towards Lace, my eyes wet. I felt my lip quiver.

“Let’s give the Inquisitor a moment. Can you wait downstairs?”

“Of course,” she said. She gave me a soft bow and walked down the stairs. I waited to hear the first door close, then the second.

I sat up, my right arm holding up my body. I pulled my legs into myself and put my head on my knees. “V,” Lace said.

“That bastard.”

“Huh?”

“That bastard!” I screamed. I stood up and paced around. I crossed my arms. “How could he do this? What was he thinking?”

“V…”

“No, Lace. No. We were together for three years and we never had any sort of incident. We were together for three years. We had sex for three years, Lace. We had sex all the fucking time and not once did we have a problem. Not even a scare. Not even once was I afraid I’d get pregnant, afraid I’d carry his child. Not once was it even a concern,” I yelled.

“V…”

“Lace,” I turned towards her. I put my arms by my side, the muscles in my neck tensing.

“It could have been an accident. Everyone slips up,” she said.

“Not. Bull. Not even once,” I yelled again. I started pacing again, then I walked to the balcony. I saw the sky, the birds flying about, the arm had begun to warm, but kept the crispness of the mountains. I looked over the edge and screamed.

“Veda, we have guests,” she said.

“Well, Lace, you better go keep them distracted then.” She took her cue and left the room. I walked over to my bed, the stack of colorful pillows I’d slept on for years. I grabbed one and started ripping at the seams. Its age betrayed it, it tore apart like it barely existed all. I walked to my wardrobe, my robes and armor and the occasional gown. I started pulling everything out, tossing it about, and then pulled the wardrobe over with it. I continued, breaking apart my desk, knocking it over. I kept going, until I cried and hit the window with my fist.

The shattered glass woke me up from the destructive trance. The sounds of cracks and bursting, the shards of light littering the floor. I looked at my hand, full of glass and bleeding. I sat on the floor and cried. Too young for this, too old for this, too alone for this, surrounded by too many people for this. With the sound of the shattering, Lace ran back in. “Oh sweet Maker, V. What are you doing?”

I looked up at her, crying, “I don’t know!” She leaned over me, embracing me.

After a moment, she looked down at me, “I’m going to get the healer, and maybe some water. Gonna need to get all that glass out. A broom too.” I sat on the floor, surrounded by colored glass. The breeze blew in the window, tickling the hair on my neck.

The healer walked in and put a hand on her chest. She walked over to me and extended a hand. “Let’s get you up,” she said. She walked towards me and put her arm around my right forearm. I used her as a balance and found my way to my feet. She used her sleeve to dust off my backside, clearing the debris off me. I sat on the sofa, one of only a few things not overturned in my room.

Lace brought a bowl of water and the healer unpacked her supplies. She took her time, moving each piece of glass out of my hand. She used water to cleanse it, a poultice to soothe it, spiritual allies to heal it properly. As she wrapped my hand in a bandage, she kept her gaze down. “I’m sorry,” she said.

I kept my eyes out the window, staring at the peaks just out of reach. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“No, I do,” she said. “I knew about you and your lover. Your partnership has reached fame of its own. I presumed, due to his passing, this would be a welcome surprise. I hadn’t considered the grief you may be enduring.”

“His passing,” I said, my tone even and calm.

“Yes, his unfortunate loss is known amongst some circles.”

I formed a weak smile. “No one has ever said, ‘he passed,” before. Everyone always refers to it as the betrayal.”

“That doesn’t change its roots. It’s loss, regardless,” she said. She tied the bandage to secure it, and placed her hands on her lap. “It’s still early. I’d say seven or eight weeks, if forced to put a number on it.”

“Seven or eight weeks?” I asked, the words cracking as they left my thoat.

“Yes, my lady. You’ve still got some time to go before the little one arrives. I’d be happy to assist, as necessary, although I’m admittedly not well-versed in Qunari gestation. Do they,” she started, but stopped herself.

“Do they what?”

“Um… well…”

From near the window, Lace perked her head up. “She wants to know if they come out with horns.” For the first time in weeks, I laughed. I let out a laugh deep from my belly. Lace joins me, and before we know it the healer and us are all bent over with such casual glee. My hand drifted to my belly, and my eyes watered again. This time, I swallowed and looked at Lace. With those piercing green eyes I could hear her saying You’re going to be okay.

#dragon age #dragon age adaar #veda adaar #inquisitor x bull #adaar x bull #scout harding #blackwall #thom rainier #divine victoria #iron bull #inquisitor #dragon age inquisition #inquisitor adaar #da #dai #fanfic

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armywriter2605 · 5 years ago

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Hiiiii. Are you okay ? I would like to know what happen to the man who touched YN in the nightclub. Have a nice day 💖

Hello!! I am doing much better now yes, thank you for your worry bub 💖 💖

Here is the answer to your question😉:

(This may include gore scenes not suitable for people under the age of 18. Please keep that in mind when you read. Enjoy~)

It had been 3 days since the boys had witnessed another man try to put his hands on their girl. To say they were angry was light. They were furious, raging. They wanted the man gone, yet the seven boys had gotten to the agreement that they’d use this this man to show others what would happen if they ever tried anything like that.

Both Jin and Yoongi had told their leader that it would be best for Taehyung and Jungkook to stay at home with Y/N. They had also wanted Jimin to stay behind, but Namjoon had said that the more that showed up, the better. It’d get their message through even clearer.

After the incident at the club, Yoongi had told the security guard of the club to cut the hand that the man touched Y/N off, but Namjoon had put a halt on the order. He wanted to be there when it happened plus, he wanted to make sure other newbies understood what they were capable of when someone tried to disrespect them. That is also why Namjoon had called upon a meeting at one of their warehouses for all the newbies who had been recruited the last 8 months.

The recruits were there early, not wanting to be late at all. They knew their leader despised tardiness. That was one of the first rules they’d been taught. The warehouse had about 60 men and women all under the age of 40 years old in there, all being the men that had successfully passed the harsh training and agreed to all the rules the seven men had created. Despite many being older than their bosses, they were nervous. Almost all of of them had never seen them before. The recruits knew they were young but didn’t know much more.

Hoseok was the first one to walk through the doors of the warehouse. He had black boots on with ripped, denim jeans. With a black leather jacket, white and black stripped long scarf, a black cap with two rings on the edge and sunglasses he walked with a smile. Next to him stood Jimin.

Jimin walked with grace, yet even though he has sunglasses on, it was easy to read from his face he wasn't happy. He too had back boots on, but he had styled it with a pair of denim pants and jacket. under the jacket he had a long sleeved, black turtle neck shirt. His silver hair went alone with the outfit and rings he had on.

The oldest, Jin, walked in with a long baby pink coat and black jeans. He had a black shirt under his coat, and black shoes on. Surprisingly the outfit didn’t look too dark, his coat being the contrast. It was his favorite color, and even though many would see the color as too feminine, the women in the warehouse could only see how well their boss looked in such calm color.

Behind him came both Yoongi and Namjoon next to each other. Yoongi walked with a full black outfit on yet had a tricolor flannel on which, like the eldest, made the outfit not as dark as it seemed. His face was covered with a face mask and a black bucket hat, which made it difficult to even see his eyes.

Namjoon had a complete other outfit. It consisted of lighter colors. Denim pants with black boots and a black shirt. Yet he also had a beige jacket and white cap which simply went along with everything. He too had a pair of sunglasses on.

If anyone had seen these men on the streets, they’d believe they were either fashion students or models. Not bosses of one of the biggest underground mafia groups in South Korea. The men watched with envy as their bosses walked full of glory and confidence towards the small high stage that had been set up. As they were closer to the stage, the door to the warehouse was open again. Two men walked in, holding the man that had upset Y/N in their club. He had been starved the past 3 days and beaten up occasionally. At the sight of their fellow colleague and friend, whispering started. What had he done? Why was he like this? Why were all of them here?

The man was in an awful state. His face was painted with shades of reds and purples. He had dried blood on his forehead and on his nose, indicating something had been fractured. He was also struggling to walk by himself at all, his strength failing him because of the lack of food and drink.

Once on the stage, sitting down on chairs with the man on the ground in front of them, Namjoon cleared his throat making sure everyone talking stopped. Understanding the sign, everyone in the warehouse shut up, giving the word to the boss leader.

“Many of you may be wondering what is going on. Why all of you are here and why is this...vermin in such state. Well, this man here.” Namjoon started as he stood up, bringing his boot to the face of the beaten man, pushing his face to the ground.

“This man here thought it’d be a good idea to hit on and even try to take home the one person you were taught to stay away from. I believe many of you know who I’m referring to, but some of you new ones may be confused. Y/N L/N is the girl this man was flirting with in one of our own clubs three nights ago.”

It wasn’t long until talking erupted. Some couldn’t believe what they were hearing while others just simply didn’t get the whole point. Wasn’t she just another girl?

“Now that girl is the one you all were taught not to touch, not to think of or even get close to. Why you may be wondering? Because she is ours. And whatever is ours is not for anyone else to even take a glance at.” Jin said as he also stood up and grabbed the man on the ground by his hair, showing his beaten face to the crowd of newbies who now had a scared expression on. Would their bosses really go this far just because someone hit on their girl?

Yoongi now ordered the guard to get the mini axe they so carefully had purchased for this event. “You see, we wouldn’t have gone this far until this asshole grabbed our baby. And no one but us is to touch her. We thought you all knew that but apparently you don’t and need a reteaching.” Yoongi snickered as he grabbed the axe and handed it over to Hoseok, who had been sitting with a smile on his face this whole time.

“Which one was it again, Hyung?” Hoseok asked as moved closer to the crying man, who begged for forgiveness.

“Hey, which one do you write with?” Jin asked before letting him go, wiping his hand on his jeans. The hair of the man was dirty and now his hand was also as dirty.

“M-m-my right o-one.” The man replied honestly, snot coming out of his nose as he sobbed loud.

“You have your answer there, Hoseok-hyung.” Namjoon replied, stepping slightly away from the scene that was about to unfold.

As Yoongi ordered the guards to hold the man down, Hoseok closed the distance between him and the sinner. “Please don’t think this is personal. We’d do this to anyone who got near our angel. Man, woman...children. She’s ours after all.”

Hoseok said and with one swing, he pierced the axe halfway through the wrist of the man. The man on the ground screamed in agony, as he watched his own hand being chopped off. The blood started to pour out, some drops being shielded by Hoseok’s scarf.

“Oops, sorry. First time using an axe, and a small one at that.” Hoseok said and with another swing, he hit the same spot, successfully finalizing his doing. The metallic smell was now strong, and some of the newbies who were close enough to the scene, felt the need to throw up.

“There there, it’s all done now. No need to cry anymore.” Jimin comforted the male, who cried in pain and shock. The silver haired boy patted the other’s head as he gave him a smile before kicking the chopped prehensile off the stage.

“I hope everyone here understood what we meant by this scene. Worse things will be done now that all of you know how important this girl is.” Namjoon said as he gave a kick to the bleeding man before he walked off the stage. The other 4 boys followed as if this was a normal every day doing.

Hoseok was complaining at how his jeans scarf was ruined and he needed a new one. Jimin was busy texting Taehyung telling him everything went smoothly, and surprisingly, no reply was received which was unusual. Yoongi yawned as he walked, wanting to just go home and have a nap with Y/N in his arms and next to him walked Jin, who was busy thinking of what to cook for their lunch.

The new recruits watched in horror. How messed up could their bosses be to do this to someone who did simply talked with the wrong girl? How possessive could they actually get and how far would they go for that girl? Did she even know this had happened? Was she as crazy as them?

As many stood frozen in place, some tried to help the crying man who yelped at anyone to help him. Although, the helping people were stopped by the guards. No one was to help him until the doctor got there. Those were the orders.

As the doctor rushed inside, the five boys left the warehouse with a smile or contented expression on as they wondered what their baby was doing.

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singledarkshade · 4 years ago

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New Recruit

Summary: We have a slightly unusual hiring method here. Author’s Note: Set after the original story Protection in the Legends Security Series, just a little foray back into this universe. Enjoy. ********************************************* The offices of Legends Security were bright and airy, she could hear laughter from along the corridor which made her even more nervous. Felicity took a long deep breath, trying to remember what Toby, the barman in the club her mother worked, had told her about keeping herself centred.

The door opened and Rip Hunter stepped out, his arm in a sling, but even that didn’t take away from how cool and professional he appeared.

“Miss Smoak,” he greeted her with a small smile, “Please, come in and we can talk.”

Standing, Felicity continued her mantra of ‘breathe’ in her head, while she walked into the office.

“Take a seat,” he told her, gesturing to the chair on the opposite of the desk as he slid into his own.

Felicity took the seat, her eyes drawn to the shelf just behind Rip which held a picture of Rip and a small group of people in front of the Legends Security office, and a metal sculpture of a dragon with emerald eyes.

Tapping at the keyboard, he glanced at her, “You’ll have to forgive my typing, I’m only allowed to use one hand at the moment.”

“I heard about the incident with Zaman Druce,” Felicity noted before asking, “Mr Hunter, why did you ask me here this morning?”

“Call me Rip,” he said, “And I asked you here because I want to offer you a job.”

“A job?” Felicity asked stunned. She’d only left Vegas two days ago and expected she’d have to live off her savings for a while before she even got an interview with anyone.

Rip nodded, “You worked for Queen Consolidated for six months, after graduating from MIT with an impressive record. You then returned to Las Vegas to look after your mother who was in a car accident. Has she recovered fully?”

“Yes,” Felicity smiled, “She’s back to her old self.”

“So, you’ve returned to Star City,” Rip continued, “Do you have a job lined up?”

Shifting uncomfortably, Felicity shook her head.

“Then that works perfectly,” Rip replied.

Felicity smiled before noting, “I’ve been checking jobs all month and I didn’t see that you were looking for anyone. So, what kind of job are you offering?”

Rip shrugged slightly, “We have a slightly unusual hiring method here. I have friends who keep an eye out for people they feel will work well with my team. Detective Jim Brass of Vegas PD was very enthusiastic about how intelligent and intuitive you are.”

“You still haven’t explained what job you’re offering me,” Felicity noted.

“I know. Follow me and I’ll show you around.” Before he could move, his watch began to beep and Rip sighed, “Excuse me, I need to take my painkillers.”

Felicity watched him struggle for a second before taking the pill bottle out his hand and opening it.

“How many?” she asked.

“Two,” he replied. She dropped two pills into his hand and Rip smiled, “Thank you,” he pulled a sports bottle from the drawer. Throwing back the pills he quickly drank some water before returning everything.

As she waited Felicity’s eye was caught by a photograph of Gideon Ryder, owner of Waverider Tech, sitting on his desk. She’d heard they were dating; well her mother had told her about it from the gossip rag she was reading.

“Okay,” Rip said, bringing her focus back to him, “Follow me.”

Rip watched the young blonde as she took in her surroundings. Her resume wasn’t that long, but Rip had a specific criteria for bringing people into the team and she fit that. He started towards the main meeting room where he knew Digg was in the middle of a meeting with the main team. It was dark, with Digg going through plans on the projector at the front of the room. Motioning her to keep quiet, he opened the door and stood them at the back.

Keeping an eye on Felicity, Rip watched Digg as he went through the security plans for the concert they were working on later in the week. A new client that had defected from Reverse Star Solutions which always made Rip happy.

“Any questions?” Digg said as he turned the lights on, his eye caught Rip who simply tilted his head to indicate Felicity standing quietly at his side.

Digg nodded to Rip before moving on with his briefing. Rip gently touched Felicity’s shoulder and moved her out the room leaving Digg to his work.

“John Diggle is one of the first people I hired,” Rip told her as they continued through the offices, “He runs the main security team who deal with the larger jobs like concerts, parties and other events as well as setting up security arrangements for things like museums and hotels or even homes.”

“Okay,” she said, looking a little confused.

“Come on,” Rip moved her to the small group of offices, reaching the first one he knocked quickly before opening it, “Sara?”

Rip motioned Felicity into Sara’s office, which as normal had at least three people in it. Nate and Curtis were sitting each with a notepad as they worked on upcoming clients.

“Felicity,” Rip moved her inside, “I’d like you to meet Sara Lance, the head of our discreet bodyguard programme.”

“Hi,” Sara smiled.

Rip grimaced as his phone buzzed, “Can you give Felicity a quick introduction to what you do. I will only be moment, Miss Smoak.”

Stepping outside the room, Rip answered his phone, “You know I’m busy.”

“So am I,” the amused voice of his girlfriend came, “I wanted to check you took your painkillers.”

Rip smiled, “I did.”

“Good,” Gideon replied, “I’ll let John know he doesn’t need to call.”

“I worry how much you and John are teaming up against me,” Rip grimaced.

Gideon chuckled, “I simply want to ensure you’re getting healthy so I can have my way with you sooner.”

Rip felt his cheeks heat slightly, “I have to go.”

“I’ll pick you up for dinner,” Gideon told him.

“Looking forward to it,” Rip replied and hung up.

Rip smiled to himself, he’d never thought he’d ever feel like this for anyone ever again after losing Miranda, but Gideon had simply slipped past the walls he’d built up. Shaking himself Rip headed back into the office to check on his possible new recruit.

Felicity was a little overwhelmed by the tour she was being given. First the security team, then the discreet bodyguard (which she had to admit was a smart idea) but the moment Rip opened the next door, Felicity was in love.

“We call this the Bridge,” Rip told her with a smile.

Felicity stared at the room that did look like the bridge of a Starship, she moved to the computer closest to her and marvelled at the sophistication of the set-up.

“This is where our back-up team monitor anyone in the field,” Rip explained, “Our discreet bodyguards are never on their own, they always have one member of the back-up team watching over them. For the larger projects, like the concert Diggle is working on just now, three or four of the team work together.”

“And this is the job you’re offering me?” Felicity asked.

Rip shrugged, “At first but I also thought you would be a good member of Sara’s team.”

Surprise filled her, “I’ve taken a few self-defence classes but…”

“Which is why we’ll train you,” Rip explained.

Felicity stared at him for a moment, “What if I don’t want to train?”

“Then I will still offer you the job on the back-up team,” Rip replied, “You’re an IT expert, but you also have an eye for detail that we need for back-up crew.”

A woman with long dark hair appeared and passed him an envelope, which Rip took with a smile.

“This is the offer I have for you,” Rip told her, “I hope you decide to join us, Felicity.”

Taking the envelope, Felicity fought the urge to check it there and then.

“Zari will see you out,” Rip told her, “I have another meeting now. Call me as soon as you have an answer either way.”

With that said he left the room and Felicity looked at the envelope again.

“If you want to know,” the woman, Zari, said, “The pay is good, the perks are good, the people are fantastic and the job interesting. Rip is a great boss and, if he thinks you should join Sara’s team, he is surprisingly good at knowing people’s strengths.”

“Okay,” Felicity said softly as she walked towards the exit with the other woman, “I’ll think it over.”

Felicity sat in her small apartment with the envelope on the table in front of her as she made herself some tea. She had wanted to rip it open and see what he was offering but forced herself to take a step backwards.

She had been impressed by the place, by how enthusiastic everyone who worked there was and especially the tech they had.

Finally, now she’d had time to process everything, Felicity opened the envelope and read over the job offer fully.

Grabbing her phone, she quickly called the number at the top of the page.

“I’m in.”

#fic #legends of tomorrow #rip hunter #arrow #felicity smoak

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drarryfics1002 · 4 years ago

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Sectumsempra

He couldn’t see a way out. His father was disgraced in the eyes of the Dark Lord, unable to kill even a twelve-year-old girl. His mother was under constant threat of death should he or his father misstep once more. He had an impossible task and was unsure he could even do something so terrible. To make matters worse, Potter had taken to following him all over the castle and it was only a matter of time before he was caught and got his mother killed, he was sure.

It wasn’t long after they got back that he started going to Myrtle’s bathroom. After he had told her he was gay, she had quickly moved on from her crush on him. She was a great friend and often comforted him when he could no longer handle the weight of his task. Unfortunately, she was not there that day. He wasn’t sure where she could be but he was somewhat grateful to have a chance to breakdown in private. It seemed it wasn’t as private as he thought, however.

He heard the door open and swung to face it, his wand drawn. He said the first spell to come to his mind, Crucio, but it seemed his attacker was faster. He didn’t even hear the curse and if he did, it was immediately forgotten at the searing pain he felt as he was practically ripped open. He could feel the puddle of warm blood forming where he fell and was relieved. If he was simply killed in an accident, maybe his mother would not be punished for his failure.

But he didn’t die. He hadn’t realized he passed out until he woke up. He found himself looking at the familiar ceiling of the hospital wing and his eyes watered with disappointment. He started to raise his arm to brush away the stray tears that escaped but was stopped by excruciating pain. Apparently he made a noise because someone was instantly by his side.

“Draco? Can you hear me?” It was Severus. He was looking at him with worry, a look he had not seen since he was a child and he had fallen off his new broom. Draco was confused to catch a glimpse of guilt as well.

“Mhm.” Draco hummed, not sure he could speak.

“Potter was an idiot as usual and used a spell he didn’t understand. It’s called Sectumsempra and it’s meant to cut someone so bad that they shouldn’t be able to be healed. I was able to successfully perform the counter-curse but the cuts have to heal naturally.” Severus explained to him. The guilt was back, stronger this time.

“How long?” He managed after a moment.

“A few days, hopefully.” Severus answered.

“Potions?” He asked, hoping to get one for the pain.

“Oh, of course.” Severus disappeared for a moment before arriving with Madam Pomfrey and a glass vial filled with potion.

“Hello, Draco. I’m going to let Severus help you with your pain potion and then I’m going to run a few tests to see how you’re healing.” She explained to him. Severus sat him up, with much pain on Draco’s part, and poured the potion into his mouth. Pomfrey was quick and informed him he was healing faster than she anticipated and should be able to leave in just two more days.

“Is Potter being punished?” Draco asked Severus when the healer had left.

“He currently has detention with me but I am pushing for him to expelled.” Severus sneered at the thought of Potter. Draco knew he should be happy to hear his godfather was trying to get his enemy expelled but he was immediately against it.

“Don’t do that. I was going to hurt him too but he was quicker.” Draco protested.

Severus looked at him oddly but nodded. He and Draco chatted lightly for another half hour. Severus left with a promise to be back later and to inform his friends that they could visit tomorrow after classes.

Draco sighed and let his eyes shut once again.

In the Gryffindor common room, Harry sat hunched over by the fire with his face in his hands and a guilty conscience. He could vaguely hear Ron and Hermione arguing on the couch. Ron thought Harry did the right thing and Hermione was appalled by his actions. He had to agree with Hermione as he pulled back to see his bloody hands. He had washed the blood off hours ago but it was permanently imprinted on his mind.

“Harry? Harry!” Hermione snapped by his ear, pulling his concentration to her.

“What?” He asked, looking back towards the glowing fireplace.

“Did you apologize?” She asked him. Ron looked like he wanted to say something but the look on Harry’s face, some sort of mix between guilt and sadness, kept him at bay.

“I tried but Snape wouldn’t even let me in the room. Not that I blame him.” Harry sighed. He had wanted to catch Draco doing something wrong but not to kill him. He could admit to himself that he never wanted to get Draco in trouble when he caught him, he wanted to save him from Voldemort. The boy had proven to be hateful, but not a murderer.

“He deserved it, Harry. He was going to use an unforgivable.” Ron said. He received a glare from Hermione.

“I might as well have.” Harry answered, standing from his chair and dashing up to the dorms. He grabbed the map and the invisibility cloak and left, despite protests from his best friends.

After hours of walking around, feeling bad and berating himself, he found himself at the door of the infirmary. According to the map, Madam Pomfrey was in her personal rooms and would not catch him sneaking in. He silently moved through the room, sitting beside his victim’s bed. He felt nauseous when he spotted the criss-cross of bandages on Malfoy’s chest.

He was nearing his breaking point for guilt, about to leave and hope he could fall asleep when he got back to the dorms. He froze when he heard a groan of pain and saw silver eyes flicker open. He watched those eyes look around and spot him, a fear that made Harry’s chest hurt plain on his face.

“Come to finish me off?” Malfoy asked, pain making his voice hitch.

“No. I came to apologize. Do you need me to get Madam Pomfrey?” Harry asked, started to head towards her office.

“Just get me a pain potion.” Malfoy nodded towards the bedside table, where Madam Pomfrey had left pain and dreamless sleep potions. Harry helped Malfoy drink the potion and hesitantly sat back down. “Start apologizing then.”

“I didn’t know what that spell did. It just said it was for enemies and it was the first one to come to mind. It was stupid and if I had known it could have killed you, I never would have used it. I’m sorry, Malfoy.” Harry kept his eyes on the floor until the last line. He said it with more conviction than he had ever said anything else in his life.

“I’ll forgive you if you help me.” Malfoy said, making Harry’s eyes widen.

Draco didn’t know what convinced him to ask Potter, of all people, for help. He just knew he needed it.

“Help with what?” Potter asked.

“I have a task. I have to kill the headmaster. But I’m not a murderer, Potter.” Draco fought to keep his eyes dry.

“I know you’re not, Malfoy. Why don’t you just go to Dumbledore and tell him you need safety?”

“They’ll kill my mother.” Draco couldn’t stop it this time and let the tears go. He jumped when he felt arms around him but after a moment, he clung to the comfort.

“We’ll fix this, Malfoy.” Potter soothed as Draco cried.

Over the next few months, Harry met with Draco to work on their plan. Harry decided that their best bet was to finish the vanishing cabinet and let the death eaters into the castle. They would recruit someone from each house to keep everyone in their rooms to prevent any students from getting hurt.

They had also become quite close since then. They had forgiven each other and, slowly but surely, Harry had started feeling something more for the blonde. He knew the night it would happen that it was now or never.

“Draco, I need to talk to you.” Draco looked at him oddly but nodded for him to continue. They were sitting on the floor in front of a couch, waiting for the time to come. “Since we started this, I’ve gotten to know you and…”

“And?” Draco prompted, turning his head so their eyes met and unintentionally bringing their faces closer.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Harry finished, slowly moving closer.

“Finally.” Draco grinned before pressing his lips to Harry’s. Harry responded instantly. One hand was running through Draco’s hair as the other one gripped Draco’s hip as he moved to straddle Harry. They pulled away after another few minutes, breathing heavily.

“What do you mean by finally?” Harry asked, a smile on his lips.

“I fell for you a long time ago, Harry.” Draco laughed slightly.

“What do we do now? Everything is about to change.” Harry asked, his hands tightening on Draco as he thought about what would soon take place.

“Now, we wait. We wait for the war to be over. We wait until there are no more sides.” Draco sighed, resting his forehead against Harry’s. “We might have to wait a long time.”

“I would wait for eternity for you.” Harry said and he knew it was true.

#drarry #fanfic #fanfiction #Draco x Harry #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #angst with a happy ending #angst with fluff

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tanjamikaelson · 5 years ago

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LOVE FOR ETERNITY - PART 72

MASTERLIST

PART 72: | BLOODLETTING |

Natali and Kol left the compound and they took Renée with them. When they were at Fangtasia Natali pushed her sister down onto a chair.

- “And of course you lied to me about the Serratura.” Natali says as she paced from one side of the table to another.

- “I didn’t lie to you. From who do you think I’ve heard about that weapon? They want to use it, but if you give it to me I can use it before they can.” Renée tells her.

- Natali let out a laugh, “Like I would give it to you.”

- “Of course you wouldn’t. What do I need to do for you to believe me?” Renée asks.

- “To tell us everything you know.” Natali says.

- “You want me to tell you about our plans?” Renée questioned.

- “Yes.” Natali simply replied.

- Renée shrugs, “I’m sorry but I can’t.”

- Natali glared at her, “I don’t think you have a choice.”

- “I’m not afraid of you.” Renée said.

- Natali stood in front of her and placed her hands onto the armrests of the chair, looking directly at her sister she said, “You should be.”

- “You would do anything for this family? Even go against your own?” Renée asked her.

- “You and I weren’t a family for a long long time.” Natali replies.

- “But we could be.” Renée says.

- “Kol, compel her.” Natali tells him and moves to the side.

- Renée laughs, “Over the course of thousand years I became immune to his compulsion.”

- “Thanks for the heads up, we’ll torture you then.” Natali says and takes a knife then drove it into Renée left tight and she begins to blood onto the floor.

- Renée groans, “You will regret this.”

- “I don’t think I will.” Natali tells her and smiles as she twists the knife and pulls it down cutting the artery inside the leg, Renée gave out an ear-piercing scream, “Tell us your plans.”

- Renée clenches her jaw before saying, “If you both promise not to kill me.”

- Kol just laughs and Natali says, “We’ll kill you if you don’t tell us anything, it’s up to you.”

- “Fine.” Renée reluctantly says, “I’ll tell you everything I know. Which is not a lot.”

Natali raises her eyebrow before she swiftly pulled the knife out of Renée’s leg.

- After a moment Renée began speaking, “I don’t know everything, but I know that Tristan wants to recruit Davina Claire.”

- “Why does he needs her?” Natali asked.

- “I don’t know, I only heard him telling Aya to find her. First I thought that he needs her to activate the Serratura, but he still wants her even if he’ll never get that medallion.” Renée tells them.

- “They want Davina because she hates Mikaelson’s, especially Klaus and she will do everything to get rid of him..” Natali looks at Kol, “And you, Rebekah and Elijah.”

- “Now that I told you that information can I go now?” Renée asked.

- “No, you’re staying here.” Natali tells her.

- “You want me to be your prisoner? The Strix will come for me.” Renée says.

- “Let them. I’m itching to kill someone.” Kol said.

Then Natali pulls Kol to the side and tells him, “I have an idea, I need to go and talk with Freya.” she looks at Renée and says, “Keep an eye on her.”

- “Okay, I will.” Kol replies.

After Natali left Kol and Renée were the only ones in Fangtasia. Renée was bored that she couldn’t go anywhere until the Strix came for her or until Natali lets her go.

- “Can I at least get a drink?” Renée says.

- “No.” Kol answers coldly.

- “Fine, I will help myself out.” Renée tells him and starts walking towards the bar, but she was stopped when Kol appeared in front of her.

- Renée rolls her eyes, “What do you want?”

- Kol stepped closer to her, too close for comfort, “I want you to stay away from Natali.”

- Renée smiles and walks away from him while saying, “Are you afraid that I’m gonna tell her your secret?”

- Suddenly Kol flashes towards her and Renée gasped as she was pinned to the ground by her throat by Kol, “You can't talk if you're dead.” he said to her face.

- “Kill me. Let’s see what Natali would do when she finds out.” Renée tells him.

- “She would do nothing. She doesn’t care about you.” Kol says to her.

- “Of course she does. I’m her sister.” Renée said, “She loves me.”

- “No, she doesn’t. All you ever did was lie to her.” Kol told her.

- “But Kol, you’re doing the same.” Renée reminded him, “What do you think she will do when she learns your dark secret? She will turn on you, she will want to.. kill you.”

- Kol was getting angrier by seconds, he squeezed her throat even more, “She would never do that and you know that that’s why you still didn’t tell her anything.. But you, on the other hand, she will kill you.” quickly he let go of her throat and stood up, “And I’m going to let you live just so I can watch how she rips your head off.”

- “She will never forgive you when she finds out, and never for a vampire is a very long time.” Renée stated and Kol only glared at her without saying anything knowing deep inside of him that what Renée is saying might be true.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

At the Mikaelson compound, Elijah is in the downstairs living room, heading up the spiral staircase, as Marcel rushes in and follows him to try to talk to him.

- “Elijah! I'm not finished.” Marcel says loudly.

Elijah stops walking up the staircase and turns to face Marcel, clearly annoyed by his attitude.

- “Why don't you run along to your little friends and remind them that any attack on me is a really bad idea.” Elijah tells him.

- “That's not gonna work. They're as stubborn as you are.” Marcel says.

- “So stay away from them, Marcel, before I interpret your behavior as an act of betrayal.” Elijah told him.

- This visibly offends Marcel, who glares at Elijah for a moment before he replies, “That's the thing, Elijah..” he reaches into his inner jacket pocket and pulls out the enchanted stake he was given by Aya, “See, I betrayed you before I even got here.”

Elijah turns around at the sound of footsteps to see a dozen suit-clad male members of The Strix flooding into the room from every entrance. Elijah turns back to Marcel and gives him a cold look.

Upstairs in the study, Freya is walking around an even-weaker Tristan and the magic binding circle as she casts a spell, “Somo ve de ver se, nat-” Freya stops chanting when she sees another male member of The Strix walking into the room. She immediately makes a fist with her hand and jerks her arm downward, casting a silent pain infliction spell on him that is so strong he is immediately brought to his knees. However, just as the man falls unconscious, Aya vamp-speeds into the room and stabs Freya in the stomach with the knife Freya planned to use on Tristan earlier before she can even react. Freya gasps in pain and Aya jerks the knife out of her stomach, and Freya collapses onto the floor as Aya sneers at her from above, “Your sister put up more of a fight.”

Freya continues to gasp for breath on the floor as she bleeds out, and Tristan turns and gives Aya an annoyed look as she drops the blade onto the floor.

- “Took you long enough.” Tristan says.

- Aya smirks at him in amusement before asking, “Where is Renée?”

- “She’s not here, Natali took her, but we’ll leave her there for now.” Tristan replies.

- “Are you sure? She will tell them our plans.”Aya tells him.

- “She doesn’t know everything.” Tristan says.

Downstairs in the living room, Marcel and Elijah are in the middle of a heated fist-fight. Elijah shoves him backward so hard that he hits one of the weight-bearing stone columns and chips off a large piece of rock from it. Marcel falls to the floor, allowing Elijah to turn and start fighting one of the other Strix members. Elijah is in the middle of fighting two of the Strix's members. He rips the heart out of one of them and drops it unceremoniously onto the floor before spinning and karate-chopping the neck of the other so hard that he's decapitated, causing a splatter of blood to spray against the portrait of him hanging on the wall.

Natali was entering the compound when she picks up sounds of fighting. Meanwhile, the fight was going on in the living room, where Elijah is fighting several other Strix members. Elijah has just punched one in the face before twisting his arm so hard that it snaps, but is too distracted to see another Strix member grab Elijah in a headlock from behind. Fortunately, Natali instantly vamp-speeds toward the man and snaps his neck, allowing Elijah to do the same to the other vampire. The two look at each other for a moment, just when Marcel comes up behind Elijah and stabs him through the heart from behind with what looks like the stake he was given.

- "Elijah!" Natali says shocked before Marcel drops Elijah to the ground, and his skin starts to turn gray and desiccated as Natali glares at Marcel. She wasn’t surprised that Marcel betrayed them. Just then, two other members of The Strix start to surround her, cornering her while Marcel watches from behind them.

Marcel watches with a frown as one of the vampires grabs Natali in a choke-hold and pins her against one of the stone columns. Natali reaches out with her right hand and snaps his neck. When the other vampire attacks her, she kicks him in the gut, only for yet another vampire to speed toward her. Each vampire takes one of Natali's arms and pins them to the column so she can't fight back. The older-looking vampire starts to choke Natali, but before they can snap her neck she starts to give them an aneurysm.

- “I don’t need my hands to fight against you.” Natali tells them and because of the pain they were experiencing they all along with Marcel fall onto their knees, holding their heads with their hands. She uses her magic to magically pull the hearts of the two vampires that were fighting with her. Then she steps over their dead bodies and walks towards Marcel, she grabs him by his neck and quickly snaps it before Marcel could react.

Then she went upstairs to find Freya, when Natali walked into the room she saw that Tristian escaped and her eyes fell onto Freya who was laying on the floor. Natali quickly walks toward her, taking note of her bleeding stab wound and what sounds like a punctured lung. She gently lifts up Freya’s head and bites her wrist before feeding her, her blood. Freya whimpers as she drinks her blood to heal from her wounds.

Downstairs in the now-trashed living room, Freya, who is now healed, Elijah, and Natali have gathered together to discuss the events of this evening. Freya is holding the enchanted stake that Marcel left behind in her hands as she examines it.

- “This stake was imbued with dark magic.” Freya informs them, and looks up at Elijah with concern, “It's strong enough to take down even you.”

- Elijah, who has been pacing around the destruction, looks down at the dead Strix members, “So apparently The Strix has no shortage of weapons.”

- “Marcel could’ve used this on you and he didn’t. Why?” Natali says and everyone wanted to know the answer to that question. No one knew if Marcel is working with the Stix or not.

- “Can we trust him?” Freya questioned.

- Elijah shakes his head in disagreement as he returns to pacing around the room, “Do I need to remind you that because of Marcel, Tristan is free, Rebekah is lost..”

- “I know what we’re gonna do with Tristan.” Natali says and the two of them turn to listen to her, “We’ll lure him into a trap and lock him with this.” she then shows them the Serratura, “Just like my sister wants. She gave us the perfect idea.”

Elijah is suddenly distracted by the sight of the blood splatter over his portrait on the far wall. This triggers a flashback to the visions he received from Alexis.

- He looks concerned as he stares at his portrait and says, “This prophecy threatens to devour us still.”

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

MASTERLIST

Tags: @mikaelsonsmagic @p3nny4urth0ught5 @cute-freak27 @ias-born @superhalsteads @characterobsessed @hinata7346 @luiza-4-ever @huntress1428 @infiniteoblivion21

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