#i imagined that this is the face that wilson made when house lied to him for the first time

[rempitcore]

my mind was plagued. help me (also this is me furthering my teddy bear wilson propaganda)

[lichanicksstuff]

Well, I finished House M.D. and I can't sleep because of them. That's why I share my late night thoughts and a scene that I came up with. Like, imagine:

House and Wilson are lying on a bed together in the apartment they rented under the false name "Holmes". Wilson is in a deep sleep, breathing steadily, and is unaware that House is looking at him. It's late at night and they lie cuddled together like their lives depend on it.

House feels like it actually depends.

He feels that if he lets go of Wilson now, he would vanish into thin air and never come back to him. So he holds him selfishly, hugs him to his chest, praying for the first time in his life. He prays for this moment to last forever, he prays for more of these moments, he prays for something impossible, but he does it anyway, like an idiot he is.

Wilson's heart beats beneath his hands, his breath tickles his neck, and his body heat warms him better than anything else. They've been lying there for hours, and House still can't fall asleep. He lies awake, allowing himself to lose in this short, fleeting moment that will disappear as quickly as it appeared.

He looks at Wilson's sleeping face, so close to his own. He sees individual wrinkles on his face, smile lines, and wrinkles appearing on his forehead and around his eyes.

House dies a little inside when he remembers that soon, he will never see those wrinkles again and he will never see new ones.

Lying there next to him, feeling his friend's arms against his chest, House whispers a soft: "I love you."

He wasn't supposed to say that. They set a condition. House is very strict when it comes to terms and conditions.

But he loses everything he ever was when it comes to Wilson. It was always about Wilson.  He was the end of him. He was worth every decision he made. He was worth spending the rest of his life behind bars.

Without him, life would seem as gray as a prison cell anyway.

So House looks at Wilson and whispers those quiet words, thinking his friend can't hear. Well, even House is wrong sometimes.

Also I have a headcanon, that the last thing House said to Wilson was "I love you."

Sweet dreams.

[hcrringtonshair]

See My Girl

Sam Wilson x Reader

Summary: You follow Sam & Bucky and Zemo to Madripoor to see your boyfriend after a, for you, too long time.

Word Count: 1851

Warnings: bad smut without plot, unprotected sex, dirty talk (+18 readers only please!)

A/N: I'm seriously nervous to post this. It's my first time posting smut. It's my first try! So it's kinda bad, I'm thankful for every advice from you if you tell me what I could do better! A huge thank you to@nobody-but-somebody-yet-nobody for beta reading this and making me feel confident about it! <3

Masterlist

Please reblog, like and comment! I would be forever thankful!

The crowded room was filled with music, sticky air, glasses clinking, people laughing and chatting loudly. A view down on the display of your phone, that showed a new text message, muted the loud ambiance around you. Nervous because of the unknown, dangerous place where you have followed Sam and Bucky, you empty the glass of whiskey in your hands, ignoring the burning taste of it going down your throat. You take a step away from the bar and see the people you have been waiting for.

It seemed as though the crowd split only for them as they walked through straight in your direction.

The upper class of Madripoor was curious about new faces, so their eyes followed the movements of the incomes, just like yours. Casually, your eyes ran up and down their bodies, stopping at the face of the man who came closer than the other two, “Gentlemen.” You nod to Bucky and Zemo with a polite smile before looking back at Sam who is now nearly chest to chest with you.

“Thought you wouldn’t make it. Did Sharon save you like the rumors said?”, you ask with a smirk. In the darkroom with colorful lights shooting through the air wildly, his eyes seem nearly black as he looks down on you, checking out the, for you, unusual choice of clothing.

“Would I ever fail when I have the opportunity to see my girl?” If he hadn't spoken directly into your ear, you wouldn’t be able to understand a single word of his low voice. Your eyes switch back to see only an empty space where Bucky and Zemo had stood only seconds before.

“I don’t think so. It has been a few weeks now.” You click your tongue as you look back into the eyes in front of you. The dark blue spotlights give his face contours and you couldn’t hesitate to bite your bottom lip at this view. His hands travel over your hips and waist, causing shivers to run down your spine. The world around you was far away and only you and Sam were in a bubble with up heating air.

“Bet you’re thirsty. I’ll get you a drink.” In his hands, you turn around to lean forward, resting the elbows on the glass counter, and feel Sam pressing himself against your back. A bright grin lights up your face as his fingertips trail over your ass.

Turning back with two glasses of whiskey in your hands, his hot breath hit your cheeks.

“You look damn awesome as always. Even better than I imagined.”

Even though he had emptied his glass in one go, his voice was still rough.

“How did you imagine me?”, you say as you down the glass just like he did and place it on the counter with a loud clunk.

“That‘s not important now after I saw this.” His eyes leave yours for a second to wander over your chest.

“I bet it will be even better without this.” He pulls a strap of the dress off your shoulder. Without an answer, you grab the hand that lies on you and take him with you through the party crowd.

You hear the voice of Bucky, questioning where you were about to go, but you wouldn’t stop for him. Of course, Sam keeps up with you and with fast steps, you both enter the glass stairs. Excitement is building up in your stomach and only his strong hand holding yours keeps you from falling because of your shaky legs. The heels clicking on the Marmor floor is soon the loudest noise in the empty private area of the house.

In the dim light you find the door to your room, Sharon has been nice enough to allow you to stay for a couple of nights while you were in the city. Sam hasn’t said a word since you both left the bar and you kept up with that until the door was shut.

“Damn Babygirl you know how to drive me crazy.” His hand slaps your ass loudly before he cups your face and kisses you until you are out of breath. You bite into his bottom lip and wrap your arms around his neck, causing him to grunt satisfyingly which is enough to get your pants wet.

“I’m done with waiting”, he mumbles to himself and lifts you up directly onto him. He peppers your neck with kisses, gently biting into the soft skin causing you to moan softly with your eyes shut. As he walks across the room, with you in his strong heavy arms, you feel him hardening against your already soaked underwear, letting you moan even louder.

The cold duvets make you shiver even more as he lays you down on the bed kneeling over you. “Look at you.” He continues covering your body with kisses, by trailing up your angled legs, slowly parting them. Your dress slides up your thighs, ending up on your stomach, letting Sam hum in approval by the view of your exposed lower body. With fast movements he straightens himself and you up, pulling the dress over your head leaving you only in your slip as you lay back.

“Fuck what a sight. God, I missed these.”

You weren’t able to answer properly, a satisfied sigh left your throat followed by louder moans as his hand covers your left boob and his mouth touches your right one. You rub your hot core against his thigh between your legs and he slightly laughs but doesn't stop circling your nipple with his tongue. “It’s all for you”, your breath comes out shaky when he leaves your chest to straighten up again. You look up at him, watching how he pulls off his leather jacket and pullover in swift fast movements, moaning at the sight of his bare chest making you even wetter.

“You like what you see huh?” His mouth turns into a cheeky smile as he continues to remove his belt and trousers. Pouting, you grab his hand to stop him and guide them to your panties, and let him slip inside. You both moan in satisfaction as his tender fingers move between your folds.

“Who made you that wet baby? Tell me.”

Distracted by his moving fingers you lift your back, previously pressed to the bed, into his touch. “You”, more moans fill the room as he easily slips inside of you. “Only you make me this wet Sam. Only thinking about you makes my pussy this wet.” You cry out in frustration as he leaves you and leans back to pull off your panties before throwing them across the room.

“Right.”

He starts trailing kisses down your uplifted leg, which he still holds in one hand, before burying his face in between your thigh.

His tongue touches your throbbing folds, slowly licking up all the juices making you scream out in pleasure before one finger enters you again.

He growls against your pussy while continuing licking and the vibrations let you start to grind against his mouth. As he adds a second finger your hands shoot up, covering your boobs massaging them and you stare at the top of his head.

Fascinated by the view, stitches form in your stomach, slowly building up your orgasm as he flicks his tongue right. “Oh god- fuck Sammy I’m so close, I-“ He fastens the pace of his fingers pumping in and out of you, so do you with your hips moving against them. “C’mon let go babygirl. Cum for me.” His head goes up far enough for him to look at your face.

His eyes lock with yours make you reach your high and under his intoxicating gaze, you come hard.

You shut your eyes as the orgasm rushes over you, accompanied by high-pitched moans and whimpers. He continues to lick over your sensitive skin, cleaning it up before lifting himself up reaching out for you. Your mouth meets his and you taste yourself on his lips.

“You are delicious baby.”

Giggling at his words you help him pull his trousers and underwear down his legs, before enclosing his cock with one hand, gently starting to stroke it, feeling him pulsate in your grip. You continue pumping him, stitch breaths leaving his mouth while he nibbles on your earlobe, biting into your neck. “If you don’t stop I’ll make a mess right in your hand baby.”

You gave him a kiss, “Maybe that’s what I want.” He giggles against your cheek but stops abruptly, surprised by you rolling over him.

“Later baby. First I want to fill you up.” You gulp at his words, feeling your core heating up again. With a single move, you are under him again, watching him on his knees lining up between your legs. “I need you to be inside me, Sam”, you whine as he takes his time to give himself a few strokes, smiling at your inpatient behavior. “I will be, I will be stretching out that pussy so good.” With those words he rubs his tip against you, making you squirm under him.

You gasp in pleasure as he enters you completely, only letting you seconds to adjust. “Fuck!” You both breathe out at the same moment as he starts thrusting into you. With both hands, he holds you into place at your hips. Your nails dig into the bedsheets as you lift one leg to give him more space. “Damn you’re so beautiful. That feels fucking amazing.”

His husky voice let you shiver as you moan as an answer, feeling his thumb circling on your clitoris.

“Sam faster, please. Oh my-“ He paces up before you finish and you see stars, your view goes black under all the pleasure that is rushing through your body. His fast deep thrusts accompany heavy breaths, his skin slapping onto yours makes you nearly pass out.

“Shit I’m close.”

“I’m too. God damn fill me up, baby.”

He bites his bottom lip while frowning, concentrating on keeping up the pace as his thrusts were becoming sloppier and hit the right spot. He lets out a deep growl and you feel his cum shooting inside of you and you reach your own climax.

“That’s it. You do so well coming all over my cock.” He leans down on you, placing little kisses on your mouth. Both of you, out of breath you stay like this for a short time, leaning your forehead against one another.

“God I love you babygirl.”

“I love you, Sam.” You whine shortly as he leaves you, making you feel empty. He lies down beside you, wrapping both arms around you and you lean your head against his chest.

“You okay?”

“I’m feeling awesome.”

He slightly laughs into your hair, brushing over it as he hums an unknown melody.

“How much time do we have?”

“I have to be with the others in a few hours. Let’s say until sunrise.”

Frustrated, you look up into his eyes before starting to grin.

“So then don’t make yourself too comfortable. You only have limited time to make me cum again.”

[mayraki]

✧ chapter five: a single promise - b. barnes x oc series ✧

-> captain-james’ gif

‘let’s play fire with fire’ masterlist

my masterlist

summary: trying to recover from the last fight, the team takes angela to sarah wilson’s place back in louisiana. meanwhile, sera and bucky struggle with their feelings towards each other.

“Ouch. That fucking burns.” Angela complained the second Sera touched her skin with a wet piece of cotton. “Do you know how that feels like?”

Sera let out a tiny laugh before slowly shaking her head. “Not really. I mean, I do. But it doesn’t hurt me.”

“Lucky you.”

After leaving that burning forest, Sam decided that it was best for the team to have a break at his sister’s house back in Louisiana. After all, Angela needed to recover and there wasn’t a place where she could and be safe. So without giving her sister a warning, he started to drive the car away ready to leave the fight behind and enter the best place for them right on that moment.

Sarah Wilson was indeed surprised to see her brother drive in with two complete strangers, one of them scratched in most of her body. But didn’t even hesitate on giving Angela a place to sit before quickly grabbing the things necessary to patch her up.

Even if Sera had a history with Sam, she never got the change to meet his family so seeing that part of his life was definitely new and weird for her. She of course knew that he had a family, everyone does, but she never actually stopped and thought about it. The moment she sat down on the couch next to her friend to take a breathe out, she heard some steps walking down the stairs. Looking up she found two strange boys looking at her confused and then at Angela. The little one waved at Sera with a little smile on his face while the older one just walked back to look for his mother or uncle, but soon joined the living room once again when Sarah walked in with more than three things on her hands.

Sera grabbed them and repeatedly said that she had to help her friend out and giving her a place to be and comfortable clothes to change into was more than enough from Sarah’s part, so taking the piece of cotton and the alcohol, she carefully started to clean her friend’s wounds as Angela was still trying to process what just happened and who her friend was.

“I feel like I’m in a movie.” Angela said while Sera kept touching with the cotton her skin. “I mean, being captured by a bad guy because they want to get closer to a person I know... I could write a book about it!”

Sera let out a tiny laugh before tossing the piece of cotton away to pick another one. “You’re certainly looking the positive thing to this.”

“Hell yeah! I mean it would’ve been better if I had a sexy super hero to save me so we can fall in love later and m have a happily after, but you know, you’re fine.” She said joking gaining an fake offended look from Sera. “What? Oh c’mon, like you wouldn’t mind to be saved by a super strong man who’s also a cutie and a gentleman.” Sera kept her mouth shut while shaking her head surprised at her friends positive but crazy mind. Angela, looked at the kitchen and let out a tiny smile once her eyes caught something out. “But I guess you’re more than capable of saving yourself.”

“Damn right.” Sera nodded tossing the last piece of cotton and locked eyes at Angela who seemed to have something to say. But before she could let anything out, Sera opened her mouth ready to say what her brain wanted to say since she found her. “Hey, look... I’m sorry. It was my fault that you went through this and I- I don’t think I will ever forgive myself for taking you down with me-”

“Hey, don’t be stupid.” Angela shook her head as her hand touched Sera’s. “The only one to blame is that asshole. I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Besides, I’ve dated a thousand of dickheads in my past, what’s one more than failed?” They both let out tiny laughs as their eyes were still locked to each other.

“I’m gonna kill that guy, the one who lied to you. Count on that.” Sera said with a joking tone even if her insides where burning with just the thought of it.

Angela smiled and slowly nodded. “I’m sure you will.”

“But seriously,” Sera took a deep breath as her brain was trying to look for the courage to say the next words. She knew she had to and it was the right thing to do, she had to let her know, even if it filled her chest with pain “if you want to leave after you’re alright, I’m good with that. If you feel like you want to stop being my friend, I’m gonna understand. You know? Being my friend before doesn’t mean that you have to... stick around.”

As Sera was waiting for Angela’s answer, she could feel her heart beating faster and her hands to get sweaty. She was afraid of her next words or even what she was thinking, she knew that there was a big possibility of her not wanting to be around her anymore, since being around Sera wasn’t the biggest party of them all and just like everyone else, she would leave in the end. But instead, Angela just shook her head and let out the loudest laugh ever. “Are you kidding me!? Having a best friend that has super powers is the coolest shit ever!”

As soon as Angela said those words Sera’s chest filled with relief and with a hot warmth, but not the kind she was used to feeling, something even better. “Best friends?” She asked softly and Angela quickly nodded excited.

“Fuck yeah. Wait- I thought we were best friends before. Are we gonna have the talk about what are we?”

Sera let out a tiny laugh. “Best friends.”

“Oh, thank god, otherwise that would’ve been awkward!” Their laughs surrounded the living room but then when Angela stopped and got closer to Sera’s face, she furrowed her eyebrows confused while waiting for her friend to talk. “Besides, I think you need to have the talk with someone else.”

“What do you mean?” Sera asked confused as Angela looked behind her and let out a tiny cheeky smile. Curious of what her friend was seeing, she was ready to turn around but then her friend spoke again.

“Because Bucky hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of you since we got inside the house.”

Sera’s heart dropped to her stomach the second those words hit her ears. She unintentionally bit the corner of her lower lip as she turned around to see the people moving around in the kitchen. And as soon as she did, she locked eyes with him.

Bucky was laying against the counter on the other side of the kitchen, making them a couple of meters away. Sam and his family were talking but he didn’t seem to catch a word they were saying since all his focus was on her, even if he didn’t want to. All those memories about what happened a couple of hours ago were flying around his head. Sera knew that and she knew that she would have to explain what it was and what happened at some point. While their eyes where still glued to each other, they suddenly felt like their muscle memories where bringing back their bodies becoming one. The electricity, their bloods mixing as well as the air coming out of their mouths. But Bucky was remembering something else: Sera managed to take the fire that had went inside his body like it was nothing. She managed to take full control of it and leave no marks of being there in the first place. It was so strange to him and he caught himself imagining it over and over again while his body was remembering every feeling and thought he had while on that moment.

All of that was cut short by Sam walking between them and pointing with his head to the front door, letting them know it was time for them to talk.

“So, what now?” Sam asked the second they were all standing outside with the wind hitting their skins and moving their hairs along with it.

“Now that I know that Jackson is involved I want to be a part of this more than ever.” Sera said softly while crossing her arms around her chest. “I need to end this.”

Remembering Jackson’s words, Sera let out a long sigh and looked to the ocean moving from a far. Those old memories coming to her head bringing back every bad feeling she ever had, those bad decisions, those regrets and everything that came after. Every second of pain she felt when she realised what she had done, but it was all said and done for her to fix it. The years that it took her to forget it, and yet here she was, coming back to it but ready to end it all for the last time.

“What is it that he wants with you anyway?” Bucky asked noticing the silence surrounding Sera. But not knowing if she should say the truth or not, she stayed quiet until her brain debated what her next words should be. But before she could decide the better choice, her body and mouth decided for her by shrugging her shoulders and just letting a single “I don’t know” softly.

She didn’t know why she did that. Maybe because deep down she feared that if they knew the truth they wouldn’t look at her the same way. It took her years to finally trust Sam, but even then, she still didn’t tell him her entire story and everything she did.

“Well,” Sam said “we’re not stuck. We have the address Jackson told us way back at the beginning. Street 719, remember?”

“Yes, but how we know he didn’t just told us a random street to get away from us?” Bucky asked but Sera quickly shook her head, making both Sam and Bucky to turn to her.

“No, he panicked that day. He didn’t know we were coming so he clearly didn’t know he was going to end up running away. It’s worth the shot.”

Sam and Bucky nodded agreeing. “Is better if we stay here until Angela is alright, or until she can take care of herself.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to leave her alone.” Sera said. “Besides, we need backup.”

“Wait-” Sam cut her off. “I said we needed backup back then... are you agreeing with me?” Sera realised what Sam just said and was about deny it, but the loud laugh coming out of Sam’s mouth made her stay silent. “That’s new! Oh Lord, may this day bless us and be our new holiday. I call it, the day Sera finally realised that Sam is right and didn’t even have a comeback.”

“Oh, I have a comeback-”

“Just let him have this, ok?” Bucky said seeing how happy and excited Sam was while still laughing until his breathing cut short. “I better tell Sarah about this, this is one of the best days of my life!” As he was walking away all they could hear was Sam’s laugh and his happy feet walking up the stairs. But then, when he went inside the house his laugh faded away and there was nothing but the sound of the ocean and the crickets surrounding Bucky and Sera, who stayed put watching Sam walk away.

“He’s not going to let it go.” Sera said and Bucky quickly shook his head.

“Oh, no, never.”

They both bursted out laughing realising how stupid and childish the whole situation was, but for some reason, they didn’t mind. Anything that would bring them peace in those crazy wild times, it was good enough for them.

Seconds later, they found themselves enjoying the silence of the night as the only thing illuminating them was the poor street light of the house. They ocean was barely moving so it let out relaxing and soft noises of the water.

Sera felt a chilly wind against her skin but soon erased it by unintentionally moving her fingers and soon feeling the burning flames inside her body. But even though she didn’t feel cold anymore, she still moved her hands against her skin trying to find more natural warmth rather than the one her body was making.

“Are you cold?” Bucky asked softly by her side making her lock eyes with him and let out a tiny smile.

“What? Are you gonna give me your jacket like the oldest trick on the book says?” Sera said jokingly which lead to Bucky shaking his head with an inevitable smile forming on his lips.

“Right, I forgot you’re part torch so you don’t get cold.”

“And you screwdriver? Do you get cold?”

Bucky shook his head. “Not really-”

“Oh, Bucky! Do you want me to give you my jacket? Or do you want me to get closer so I can put my arm around and fill you with warmth?”

Bucky turned to her and furrowed his eyebrows confused. “How many romantic movies have you watched in your life?”

“What? You’re the one who wanted to give a girl flowers and take her to a festival.” Sera shrugged her shoulders and unintentionally taking a step to the side, to be more closer to Bucky.

“I still don’t know what is wrong with that.”

“Nothing! Is cute. I just mean that the festivals now aren’t the same as they used to be... grandpa.” As soon as Sera let out that word Bucky turned to her with his eyebrows lifted and his mouth slightly opened as a smile was forming on his lips.

“I’m not that old.” He said offended but that just made Sera to let out a loud laugh and playfully punch Bucky’s arm. “Oh, c’mon!”

“I’m sorry but that was funny!”

While Sera was trying to calm herself down and stop with her laughter, even if it was taken her longer than intended, Bucky found himself staring at her with a smile on his lips. The way that her eyes would become smaller the bigger her smile would get, her wrinkles forming around her skin and her hair moving alongside the wind. But what caught his eyes the longest where her lips. Her dark pink lips and the way she would move them as her laughter continued, how she would press them together to calm herself down or how she would lick them once she took deep breath in once she was done. All of those things would unintentionally make Bucky’s stomach to go crazy. The memory of him wanting to kiss her at the club while she was staring at her drink came back to his mind like a fast train, making him feel those exact same things right on that moment. His ears stopped hearing her laugh so he came to her eyes noticing them staring at him.

Suddenly, like she wasn’t just laughing his heart out, Sera’s butterflies inside her stomach started to move as fast as they could as she felt Bucky’s eyes on her. They felt the tension grow as their desire to grab the other was becoming bigger and bigger. Taking a step closer to Sera, touching her shoulder in the process they both felt some electricity hitting their bodies the second their skins touched bringing them back to what happened hours ago in the forest.

Still confused about that, Bucky kept staring at her eyes like he was looking for an answer in them. But ending up with nothing, he moved closer to her with the intention to feel her warmth once again against his body. Sera felt like she was glued to the floor, frozen under Bucky’s eyes wanting with excitement his next movement.

Their lips wanted to taste each other, that was known for the two of them, but before Bucky could move his hand towards her cheek a loud noise coming from the house followed by Sarah calling out the kids, made them both realise what they were doing.

“I better go check on Angela.” Sera said softly shaking her wild thoughts in her mind as Bucky looked down and took in a long breath.

“Yeah, and I better go- check on... Sam. Make sure everything is going fine.”

They both nodded and before both of them could do anything else that they might regret, they walked inside the house to make their separate ways and forget what just happened, saving it inside a box and leaving it with the others.

>>>

“I’m telling you!” Sarah said with a smile while her, Sam and Sera were drying the wet dishes after dinner. “When Sam was younger he liked to be wearing nothing but his underwear and sing the greatest love of all by Whitney Houston all the time.”

“No he didn’t!” Sera said surprised after opening her mouth shook.

“Yes he did!”

“On my defence Whitney was huge when I was a kid and that song was amazing. You can’t blame me.” Sam said lifting his hands into the air.

“I’m never going to let that go.” Sera said. “When you least expect it I’m gonna bring it and tell everyone we meet.”

Sam shook his head while grabbing another plate. “I’m sure you will.”

As soon as Sera was done with the plate on her hands she left it on the side and got ready to grab another one, but the laughs of Sarah’s kids hit her ears she slowly turn around to see both of them play around with Bucky while Angela was happily watching the fake fight on the couch with laughs coming out of her mouth.

The oldest of them, AJ, was trying to bring Bucky’s metal arm down while the youngest, Cass was fake punching Bucky on his face. Bucky fell to the floor but then quickly got up by carefully grabbing AJ and pulling him to the ground and soon take his time with Cass.

“You’re going down Bucky Barnes!” Cass yelled as he was fake fighting, making Sarah and Sam turn towards them.

“AJ! Be careful!” Sarah said firmly once she saw how her oldest son wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck trying to pull him down.

“Don’t stop him.” Sam said while watching the fight with a cheeky smile “I wanna see where this goes.”

“C’mon Sam!” Bucky yelled from the living room. “Join the fight!”

“Yes, uncle Sam, join the fight!” Cass added as he was still fake punching and making fight noises with his mouth.

“I’m good just watching!”

“What? You don’t think you can beat us? C’mon!” Bucky said as he fell to the ground once again but soon got up to his feet and grabbed both of the kids and lifted them up into the air.

“Bucky Barnes vs The falcon!” Cass yelled which lead to Sam quickly shaking his head.

“Already been there, don’t wanna see it again. Thank you very much!”

“What?” Sera joined the conversation. “You can beat him.”

“Alright.” Sam said after letting out a tiny sigh. “But I’m winning, no matter what.” He left the towel and started walking towards the fake fight not before his sister warned him about not breaking anything.

Sera grabbed another plate without taking her eyes from the fake fight now with Sam too. As she was carefully drying the dish with the towel on her hand an unintentionally smile came out of her lips as she noticed Bucky pretending that his arm was hurting once AJ punched him.

Seeing him play with those two kids made the butterflies inside Sera’s stomach to go wild like they just seen the cutest thing ever. Her eyes and mind were so concentrated on the fight that she didn’t notice her teeth gently biting her lower lip as her eyes were slowly following Bucky, and carefully watching every move he was doing.

“Now, I’m pretty sure you’re not into my brother because I know you two have a complicated story and he loves you like a sister, so” Sarah said taking Sera out of her thoughts and gaining her eyes on her “I’m guessing the one that’s making you have those love eyes and biting your lip is Bucky, am I right?”

Sera stayed silent surprised at Sarah’s words making her tongue get twisted. She opened her mouth but no words were coming out of it, making Sera look more guilty than before. Sarah let out a tiny laugh and then added, after leaving the wet towel on the counter and turning around to rest her waist against the corner. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

“There’s nothing to tell, Sarah.” Sera shook her head as she was repeating Sarah’s movements to end up by her side while the both of them were facing the boys play around.

“Sera, I might not have super powers but I know when someone’s into a specific person.” Sera turned to her to notice that she was already looking at her. Making a quick look to Bucky, Sarah let out a tiny smile before going back to Sera who her confused emotions and feelings made her furrow her eyebrows confuse. “The eyes never lie, honey.”

No, they don’t. Sera thought looking back at Bucky. Seeing him playing with Sam and the kids made her stomach turned and to feel her chest fill with warmth. She wanted to smile again but tried her hardest to not let it out. Maybe Sarah was right, maybe she did felt something for Bucky. After all, the things that he made her feel by just playing around with some kids weren’t something that you feel by looking at a stranger.

“Well, if I do” Sera said after letting out a little sigh “I know it’s gonna be complicated.”

“Life is already complicated-”

“Tell me about it.” Sera added while a laugh escaped her lips.

“But you don’t have to let it control what you do, Sera.”

Those soft words hit Sera differently.

Her whole life she spent avoiding things because she knew that they were going to be complicated. Not wanting to break the walls she build for herself over the years, she would mostly run away from every other relationship she had built. She knew that life by its own was complicated, so to that adding someone like her... she didn’t want anyone to deal with her. The weight that she felt when she wanted to ask for help, the burden sensation that her chest would get filled with making her turn around and make her own path, writing her own rules and actions. That was her whole life. Complicated thing after complicated thing, but... what if Bucky wasn’t complimented at all?

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Cass yelling in excitement after winning the fake fight made Sera go back to reality and notice Bucky and Sam on the ground pretending to be hurt and not being able to get up.

“We won!” AJ gave Cass a high five before running towards Sarah to give her a tight hug. “Did you see that?”

“Yes, I loved seeing how you two kicked Sam’s ass.”

“Hey!”

“But now it’s time for bed, c’mon. Up to your room.” The kids were about to complain but soon shut their mouths as soon as Sarah gave them that ‘mom’ look. “C’mon, brush your teeth first!”

“Yeah, yeah.” AJ and Cass made their way upstairs but not before giving Bucky a high five. A very tired Sam walked closer to Sarah and gave his sister a little tight hug before turning to Sera and saying: “We need to sort out the beds.”

After deciding that Angela should take the bed since she was till recovering, there was nothing left for Bucky and Sera to take the floor. Of course, Sam tried multiple times to give Sera his bed but quicklt refusing it, she said that she wanted to be next to Angela in case she needed something.

As soon as everything was in order, Sarah said goodnight to everyone and left upstairs ready to head towards her bed. Sam helped Bucky and Sera to sort everything out but then, followed Sarah upstairs wanting to fall asleep as fast as possible since it had been a long day.

Even if it was for everyone, Sera felt that falling asleep wasn’t going to be as easy as she wanted it to be since the man that had her mind go wild everytime he was in the room was going to be there right by her side.

They both definitely knew that it was going to be a very long night.

>>>

Since the moment Sera’s body felt the coldness of the sheet on the floor hit her skin she couldn’t close her eyes not even for a second. All that surrounded her and her ears where Angela’s snores on the couch and the tiny breathing coming out of Bucky’s body. She tried her hardest to take him out of her head but the more she heard him and the fact that his body was laying by her side on the floor weren’t helping. He seemed to enjoy being on Sera’s mind since all she thought about was that smile on him while playing with AJ and Cass. He wasn’t the old grumpy man Sera was used to seeing and teasing, he was happy and enjoying himself. Something that Sera found herself wanting to see more.

As her eyes were wondering around the dark while her body was facing the other way, she was trying too hard to keep herself from wanting to turn around and face Bucky. She wanted to know is he was asleep or awake trying to take Sera out his mind. All she could hear about him was his slight breathing, no muscle moving against the floor. Just him and his relaxing breathing filling the air with hot air.

It was like Sera’s body was asking her to stop overthinking and give her mind a break, but her brain couldn’t listen. Bucky was going around over and over again on her thoughts like it was broken record and there was no way of escaping it.

Maybe if I see if Bucky is asleep I’m gonna be able to rest my mind and finally get some sleep. Sera thought as she was carefully biting her lower lip and before she could decide if it was a good idea or not, her body was already moving to the other side to face Bucky.

Like she suspected, his eyes were closed but he didn’t seem asleep. His eyelashes could be seen from her point of view making them look even longer. His lips were relaxed, so relaxed that it gave Sera the desire to feel them against hers. The imagine of her getting closer ready to taste his lips appeared on her mind making her close her eyes not wanting to have that. But that made it even worse. It made her mind go wild as her and Bucky were now closer to the other, his hand touching her thigh while slowly caressing it with his thumb. Her hand against his chest slowly tracing it with her index finger, feeling his fit torso against her skin.

She didn’t want to think of that, she couldn’t. After all, it was just... Bucky. What could she do about her strange feelings for him? Tell him? And if he feels the same thing, date him? Go on dates? Be normal?

Having anything romantic didn’t seem normal for her. It was so far off from her life that even her own feelings looked like a movie for her. But even if that was weird enough, her next thought made her even more weirded out... what if Bucky felt the same thing?

She opened her eyes after letting out silent sigh to find a Bucky now facing her way and looking directly into her eyes. He let out a tiny smile before giving Angela a quick look before going back to Sera. “Can’t sleep?” He asked softly which lead to Sera slowly shaking her head.

Their eyes were glued to the other as they felt the warmth or their bodies were giving now facing each other. Sera’s eyes noticed how his eyes slowly traced her face until they arrived her lips. He stayed there for a couple of seconds making the butterflies in her stomach to wake up until he went back to her eyes. Even if the desire to end the space between them was in both of them, their eyes stayed put staring at the other like they were looking for answers in them.

For the way they were staring into each other, they both felt like they, somehow, managed to know everything that there was to know about the other. Their eyes were so focused on the other that Bucky’s actions didn’t seem to face neither of them, he took his hand and gently pushed a hair that was over Sera’s face back and tugged it behind her ear. After that, instead of taking his hand away, he stayed there and gently caress her cheek with his thumb. But soon going towards her lips to trace them slowly as his eyes went to them. Without thinking about it, Sera got closer to his body as his hand grabbed her cheek with strength ready to end the space between them and unite his lips with hers, like his body was screaming at him to do. But before they could end it, a loud snore coming out of Angela’s mouth made them both jump and separate their bodies once again.

“I didn’t know someone so small could snore so loud.” Bucky said in a whisper by Sera’s side gaining a laugh coming out from her lips. Not wanting to wake up Angela on the couch Sera covered her mouth as the laughter seemed to want to become louder. “Wanna take off to the big chair on the other room?” Bucky asked and Sera quickly nodded before getting up from the floor to walk directly to the other side of the living room, far away from Angela and her loud snores.

Bucky sat down soon followed by Sera who placed her body next to his, almost with their shoulders touching since the chair wasn’t that big for the both of them. Once they both comfortably sat down, their knees automatically touched but neither of them moved it, they kept it as they were silently enjoying it.

“And you had to deal with that everyday?” Bucky asked referring to Angela and Sera just let out a tiny laugh while shaking her head.

“I could heard her from my room but I didn’t know they were that loud.”

As they both let out laughs Sera felt how the cold air that was coming trough the window hit her skin, making her cross her arms around her chest looking for natural warmth. Bucky noticing this grabbed the blanket by their side and quickly opened it to spread it around his and Sera’s legs.

“Before you say anything, I know you can turn into a torch but, c’mon, this is better.”

Not wanting to argue with Bucky, and secretly knowing that he was right, Sera let out a tiny smile and got closer to Bucky since the blanket wasn’t wide enough. As far as she could, she moved her body against his and immediately feeling the coldness fading away from her body.

For the first time in her life, Sera realised how different was the warmth of her body from the warmth of having a body by her side was. Bucky, without giving her a chance to do something else, he took his arm and placed it around her shoulder making her head to go towards his chest, wanting to feel that new yet surprisingly amazing and relaxing warm feeling she was experiencing.

Bucky started to gently caress her hair to make her feel even more relaxed than before. She wasn’t understanding why he was doing this, but of course she was enjoying. Feeling him close, feeling his body warm hers, his hands touching her, it made her feel things she had never felt before for someone. And it made her wonder even more... maybe Sarah was right.

“Thank you for saving my life today, Sera.” Bucky said softly making her to look up to lock eyes with him. He gently stared at her while his hand wasn’t stopping, but instead of being against her hair, his fingers slowly moved to her cheek. “I have no idea what you did, but thank you.”

“You saved my body from being hit by a hundred of bullets, Bucky, it was the least I could do. Right?” She asked jokingly gaining a little laugh from Bucky. “I guess you’re wondering what the hell was that.”

“Kinda.”

“Kinda? Then I’m not explaining shit to you, then.” Sera went back to facing downwards which lead to Bucky gently grabbing her chin to make her look back at him. He stared at her with a big smile when his eyes unintentionally went over her lips but then gaining his train of process about what happened back, he went back to her eyes.

“I’m dying to know.” He said softly and Sera let out a tiny smile, before taking her back against the back of the chair, to be face to face with Bucky more comfortably.

She let out a tiny sigh while thinking her every word carefully. “When someone get hits with fire, I can- in a way, enter their body and take full control of the fire inside of them. It allows me to make imaginable things. I can save them by taking the fire out, I can even turn the water inside into fire and control the person-”

“Control?”

“Yeah. I can make them do whatever- I would ask them to do. Full control... or, I could turn everything inside their bodies into flames and- and... just, end them.”

“Burning them?” Bucky asked but Sera slowly shook her head.

“It’s more than that, but- I think is a conversation to have another day.”

Sera always felt afraid of saying what she was actually capable of doing. Like she was embarrassed of it, specially after using it against poeple in the wrong way... making her feel terrified of it.

Seeing the strange look on Bucky’s face, Sera let out a tiny laugh and nodded. “I know it felt weird. Someone did it to me once.”

“I thought you couldn’t get burnt?”

“I can’t- but, that time was necessary.” Bucky’s eyes were asking for more, so realising this, Sera took a deep breath said: “When a was a little kid, controlling.... this, was harder than anything I’ve ever done. Learning how to fully manipulate as a three year old, something so powerful and dangerous as fire, it wasn’t something that I would call a party. So, one day- I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore. I was... tired. I remember my eyes turning black and a horrible burning growing inside of me. I’ve never felt something like that before because, like you said, fire can’t hurt me. But that time- it did and it made me feel terrified. I was sad and, broken. Growing up I wasn’t the- uhm, the happiest kid. I guess, I was just keeping it all inside of me and that day just, exploded and I started to create this strong fire that I couldn’t control. It was all too much for me. So, the- the person that was there with me did the exact same thing I did to... you.”

“They took the fire out of you?” Bucky asked after his brain was trying to process everything. Sera nodded looking down remembering every single moment of that memory. It still hurt to think about it, and Bucky noticed. He took the hand that was touching Sera’s should and gently pushed her to be more closer to him. Following his hand, Sera took her head and rested it on his chest once again. “How old were you?” He asked in a whisper that was almost covered by the wind entering the room.

“Ten.” Sera said in the same tone. The way that Bucky was slowly caressing her cheek with his thumb made her close her eyes enjoying the feeling against her skin.

Both Sera and Bucky went completely silent after that. They didn’t know why, but for some reason they felt extremely comfortable with the each other. Usually, they were the type of person to prefer to be alone and just deal with their lives lonely. But when the other was around, specially on that moment as their bodies were close, the didn’t want the other to leave.

“I know you’re still a little bit confused.” Sera said jokingly gaining a little laugh from Bucky’s mouth. “I was too. The way your body acts it’s just-”

“Weird?”

“I was gonna say differently, but yeah, weird works.” Their little laughs surrounded the room but then Sera took in a little breath and added: “It’s like; the person who takes control of the fire has to put their mind into a deep connection with the other person. Every feeling and every little energy that they felt has to be thought right into that second. They need to enter your body- in a way, so, it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to learn. And what comes after-”

“Is there an after?”

“Well- yeah. After one has been inside your body every energy surrounding you and that person becomes... stronger. It’s deeper than it was before, it makes an invisible red string between those two people. When that person did it to me, everytime that we were together we would just... click and work better. It was like our bodies were one-” Realising her words Sera stopped and shut her mouth. She didn’t want to confuse Bucky even more by telling him how deep and dangerous it was. So instead of saying more about the subject, she slightly shrugged her shoulders and ended with: “But it’s different for every person that you do it with.”

Wishing that Bucky didn’t ask more, Sera let out a silent breath to feel the hot air coming out her mount and to relax his now beating faster heart. She heard the silence coming his way that at one point, she thought that maybe he had fallen asleep when Sera finished telling him that story. But proving her wrong, Bucky kept moving his thumb against her skin and with his deep and soft voice, asked: “And what does it mean for us, Sera?”

As soon as those words left his mouth, Sera felt how his heart dropped to her stomach as her fingers were tracing each other. She didn’t know what to respond to that because in reality... she didn’t know. Bucky was the second person that she did it to and it was completely different. She felt different. Their bodies connected way more deeper, even before that, Sera noticed how her connected towards Bucky didn’t took her a long time. Instead, as soon as her eyes locked with him, it all came easier. Like there was something stronger connecting them together.

“I don’t know, Bucky.” Sera finally said softly. She felt how his chest was being filled with a big portion of air before hearing the hot air coming out of his mouth. It was like he was preparing himself to do or say something. But before Sera could make her mind go into deep thought, Bucky took his metal arm and grabbed her chin to make her look up while his other hand was still placed on her cheek. Locking eyes with him, Sera felt the hotness growing inside her body as she felt his eyes staring at her soul. He slowly stared to stare at every detail that was on Sera’s face but then stop at her lips while his cold metal arm started to gently trace them once again.

So shook and surprised, Sera stayed still enjoying every single thing Bucky was doing on that moment. His hot air against her skin, her fingers on her, her eyes still glued to her lips like they were just screaming at her to end the space between them.

“Sera?” Bucky asked in a whisper which lead to her feeling her skin shiver under his voice. “What are you doing to me?”

His words hit her ears and soon felt how her body melted. His tone was deep and soft, making the question enter her body and make everything inside to shut down. He looked up at her eyes as her thumb was still caressing her cheek. With strength, he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer without taking his eyes away from her, but once closer, he took them down towards her lips. It was desire and lust was filled both of their eyes, wanting to taste each other’s lips right on that second was the only thing they had on their minds. His free hand grabbing her waist with strength while his cold metal arm was gently grabbing her cheek, like he was ready to make the next step.

But the moment he got closer, Sera touched his chest and stopped him from making another move. “Bucky, we can’t.” She said softly.

“Why not?” He asked against her lips.

“I can’t.” Her voice cracked when she let out those words. Noticing this, Bucky gently pushed her head towards his chest to let her rest against it. Hearing the sound of his heart beating Sera let out a tiny sigh and closed her eyes enjoying the feeling Bucky gave her. That sensation of warmth and happiness, like nothing could go wrong after that. Like the were just normal, two people enjoying each other’s presence... but just like always, reality brought Sera back, making her open her eyes once again to meet the poor light of the moonlight illuminating the room. “I’m scared Bucky.” She said in the lowest whisper. “That everyone around me will always get hurt because of me.”

“What about you getting hurt?” Bucky said in the same tone, while his thumb was still caressing her cheek.

She just let out a tiny laugh and added: “I’m used to that.”

Gently grabbing her chin, Bucky made her look up and lock eyes with his. He looked down at her lips but soon joined her eyes, as they were waiting to Bucky to say something. “I’ll keep you safe, Sera. I promise.” He said in a whisper making her feel the hot air against her skin.

Unintentionally, she grabbed his cheek with her right hand and let out a tiny yet sad smile. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Barnes.”

She said with the intention to turn her head and look down, to close her eyes and finally feel her body slowly falling asleep while wrapped around Bucky’s arms. Enjoy that feeling for one last time, before she knew she had to let it behind and move on like she always did.

-LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED-

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[speechlessxx]

Bring Him Light - vii (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The reader’s allies provide her with a way out.

Warnings: the reader gets hurt in this (slap), sketchiness, patriarchy, Strucker is an asshole, Steve is an asshole, Steve’s mood swings are in full force here LMAO, mentions of sex, overuse of the word “whore”, oh there’s a reveal in this (but it’s probably not what y’all are expecting), probably really bad writing if i’m honest... this was kinda rushed

Word Count: 2.9k

I hope you guys enjoy!

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

After the execution of Sister Mary, the kingdom seemed to be at a standstill. Weeks later, the woman’s last words – “And you will be put to rest in an early grave and may you rot in hell along with (Y/N) Stark, your future widow.” – still hung in the air. Her headless body had been removed from the platform, but the blood still stained the wood and the ground underneath. When you stared at the dried crimson that later turned into an awful brown shade, you could still hear her strong words and feel her stare.

But the woman’s words didn’t seem to phase Steven. It was as if he expected her outburst. He slept soundly next to you the night he beheaded her and every night after. His snores filled the room and you watched his chest rise and fall. You imagined what he dreamt about. You wondered if he had any remorse.

You wouldn’t know. He’s barely spoken to you in the weeks that followed except for the greetings in the mornings and when he bedded you at night. It felt as if he were apologizing for scaring you through his movements. Gentle, kind, loving. Everything that the man with the cold, murderous glare that took Sister Mary’s life couldn’t possibly possess.

You’d like to think that he was two different people. One was a heartless king that murdered his past two wives. The other was the loving husband who kissed every inch of your body and whispered sweet nothings as he made love to you.

But you’d be wrong, for they were two sides of the same coin that you were too afraid to toss.

Steven watched with a curious stare as his cousin walked up to you in the halls of the castle. Samuel’s words were ignored by the king as his eyes narrowed from seeing you two interact. Your ladies greeting Brock with small curtseys before being dismissed by you.

“Lord Pierce and I would like a private meeting,” Brock whispered in your ear.

“Where?” You asked.

“In the center of the garden – the one with the fountain – “

“I know which one.” You glanced over as your husband approached you both. “Thank you, Lord Rumlow.” He nodded before walking away. You made the motion to walk in the direction your ladies wandered off to, but Steven seized your forearm. His grip alone let you know which side of the coin he had landed on today. “My love, I trust that your matters with the state are going well?”

Steven pulled you close to him, so close you could feel his breath on your neck. “What did Rumlow want?”

He never took you for a liar. You weren’t good at it. You were an outspoken young woman who had a knack for articulating what was exactly on your mind, but you smiled at him – a forced one, he knew the difference by now.

“He was informing me about the change in the orphanage. The children are being housed elsewhere.” Steven saw the glint of fear in your eyes. He relinquished his grip before pulling his hands to his sides.

“That’s wonderful news.” Lord Wilson nodded when his king didn’t respond. He turned to Steven. “Your grace, shall we – “

“I would like to talk to my wife… Alone.” Samuel glanced at you then at his king before bowing his head and walking off. “Everyone, leave us!”

“The people are busy tidying and cleaning. Surely, they don’t need to leave.” You reasoned. You had no intentions of being alone with this side of the king.

“LEAVE. US.”  He repeated the order louder and everyone scurried out of the room. With the last slam of the door, Steven glanced at you again. He reached out and caressed your cheek gently. You held your breath. “I don’t like being lied to.”

“I didn’t lie.” He watched the muscles of your neck tense.

“What did Brock tell you?” You repeated your story about the children in the orphanage without hesitation. Steven let out a frustrated sigh. “You know as well as I do what rumors are capable of.”

“Of course.”

“I wonder what the servants are gossiping about when they see my wife – their queen – whispering with my cousin. He was awfully close to you. In a way only I should be. In broad daylight, too. They must think you’re both bold.”

“He was only just informing – “

“When you have my child, there must be no doubt about who the father is. You get close to a man who is not your husband, the rumors will damage us. It will weaken my child’s claim to the throne. Do you understand?”

“This is about your petty jealousy?” You snapped. “Damn the rumors, right? They’re just rumors, right, Steven? You shouldn’t listen to them as much as I shouldn’t.”

“Rumors about a cruel king and whore queen are two very different things.” Steven spat. You frowned at his words. How dare he… “A cruel king is feared, respected. A whore is not. Do you understand?”

You thought about Sharon and the men who favored her. You remembered how Steven had no hesitation in beheading Mary – how he probably had no hesitation in beheading Sharon, too. As much as he showed you affection, you realized he would show no hesitation in taking your life as well.

You bit back your response and nodded. “I’ve only been with you. I can assure you that.” You muttered, adverting your eyes and shifting underneath his hard stare.

You winced when your husband leaned in and pecked your lips. He stared at you though you didn’t meet his eyes. “The Duke will be arriving soon. I trust that you’ll be there when he arrives?” You nodded. And without another word, the king walked off leaving you alone in the empty hallway.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

“What is this about?” You asked as you walked towards the fountain. The two men were awaiting your arrival. Alexander sitting on the edge of the basin while Brock stood with his arms crossed.

“Can we trust you?” Pierce was straightforward in his question.

“I don’t understand?” You glanced over at Brock who studied you. “Shouldn’t that be my question? I still don’t know why you told me about Margaret and Sharon.”

“Because you deserved to know the truth.” Brock answered.

“What did the king tell you?” Pierce prompted.

You debated whether or not to tell them the truth. You didn’t know if you could trust these men. But then again, you didn’t know if you could trust anyone in this court. You need allies. Powerful ones that could protect you. Could Lord Rumlow and Lord Pierce be those friends?

You gulped and hoped that they would. “He told me that my friendship with Brock could inspire rumors and if I were to fall pregnant with his child that those rumors could potentially endanger us.”

Pierce nodded. “An affair is treason, too. He’d have grounds for your execution. Even your king father won’t be able to protect you.”

“I know.” You nodded. Your hands nervously tugged at your dress. The fabric felt tight around your abdomen. “To be frank with you, my lords, I’m afraid for my life. I lie awake at night and wonder when will he grow tired of me – when will I meet the same fate as his past wives?”

“Say any word and I will arrange for you to be brought to your home in York.” Pierce offered.

“If I go to York, my father will just send me back. Steven can send armed men to seize me and I’ll be brought back like a prisoner.” You shook your head. “I’m essentially his property, just titled as a princess and a queen for decoration to make it sound luxurious.”

“I can bring you to Wakanda,” Pierce rebutted. “King T’Challa is a tolerable and honorable man. If he hears that you are endangered by your father and your husband, he will shelter you in his kingdom and keep you safe.”

“We’ll smuggle you and your ladies out of Brooken on a boat. We’ll see you are protected in this voyage.” Brock added.

“In exchange for what?” You asked. “You’re risking your lives to protect me. Why?”

“We’ve seen far too many women die at his hands.” Pierce answered. “No more bloodshed.”

You weren’t sure if you should believe him. When you first acquainted yourself with the lords of the court, you quickly noticed how Steven’s moods fouled when Pierce and Rumlow were present. There had to be reason for that… But why were these two men so eager to keep you safe?

Then, your mind wandered to the other people who depended on you. Natasha had grown close to Lord Barnes, who was now openly courting her. You wouldn’t ask your friends to uproot their lives. You thought about your well-kept secret and how you needed Steven, your husband, who appeared to be slowly shedding his kind façade.

This was your way out… But should you take it?

“Thank you, my lords. I will keep this in mind.”

“Please do, your grace. We only want you to live.”

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Your fatigue was evident on your face as the night wore on. Your husband was hosting another party to welcome a visitor, Duke Baron Strucker. You were briefly introduced to the man when he arrived. From what Lord Rumlow has told you, he had vast holdings of grain and it was his grain that fed majority of the people – and that the extravagant party was to stroke the man’s ego, so that he may continue to provide food.

Wanda was glued to your side the entire evening. The two of you watched as Natasha danced the night away with Lord Barnes. When the three of you were alone, you’d all gush about how the pair made a lovely couple.

“We should excuse you for the night.” Wanda whispered to you. A servant offered you a glass of wine and you smiled and shook your head. “You look tired, and in your condition – “

“I’m fine.” You told her. You squeezed her arm to assure her.

“Have you told him?” Wanda asked, her voice so low you almost didn’t hear her over the music.

Before you could answer, the guest of honor walked up to the both of you with your husband at his side. “The lovely Queen (Y/N)!” The Duke sloppily bowed. He was drunk from the many cups of ale he consumed throughout the night. “You did know how to pick ‘em, eh, Stevie?”

Your jaw clenched as you forced a smile. Your husband was just as uncomfortable as you but he was better at acting. “My love, are you tired?” He asked you. You faked another smile and shook your head. He didn’t believe you. “Lady Wanda, will you escort the queen – “

“Lady Wanda!” Strucker smiled, seizing Wanda’s hand in his and bringing it to his lips. She visibly cringed. In the corner of your eye, you saw her brother, Ser Pietro, tense up as if he felt her discomfort. “Ah, don’t be a tease, milady! You are a sight.”

“Thank you,” Wanda gulped. She tried to pull her hand away, but the man refused to let her go. During the awkward exchange, Natasha and James stopped dancing and hastily walked over to your group. Natasha’s eyes narrowed at the man’s grip on her friend’s hand as did Lord Barnes’s.

“Accompany me with a dance.”

“My king asked me to escort my queen to her chambers. I should heed – “

“Oh, just one dance!” The man argued. He pulled her but she refused to move. “C’mere, you little – “

“Unhand my lady.” You defended.

“(Y/N) – “Steve muttered, grabbing your arm.

You shrugged him off as you snatched Wanda’s hand away from the Duke. You gestured for Pietro to come forward and the knight did so with no hesitation. He took his sister and walked her out of the hall. You intended to walk after them, but the Duke wouldn’t stop talking.

“Oh, ‘em York girls really are a different breed, eh?” Strucker told your husband. He looked over Natasha, but when he saw how close she stood next to James, he adverted his eyes. He looked you up and down. He was shameless. With a smirk, he nudged your husband. “How’s the wife in bed?”

You whirled around and took a step towards the two men. You cocked up an eyebrow at Steven. The king coughed and shook his head. “Those are private matters, I’m afraid, Baron.” He chuckled, awkwardly.

“That Lady Wanda have any suitors? I’d love to – “

“The answer is no.” You said. “You may not court Lady Wanda.”

The man rolled his eyes, bringing his chalice to his lips. “Dresses like that, she looks like she belongs in a whorehouse rather than prancing ‘round court as a lady.”

Natasha’s jaw dropped and before she could defend her friend, you frowned and retaliated. “You are in my court and you will respect my ladies. Is that understood?” The man held his hands up in defense and nodded.

“(Y/N) – “Steven muttered, but you only glared up at him.

“How dare you allow your guests talk like that about my ladies.” You snapped.

The Duke gave the king a shocked look. He was surprised at how outspoken the new queen was. You didn’t hesitate to talk back or defend your friends. From what he understood, you were a princess – King Anthony Stark’s eldest daughter. Weren’t princesses groomed to be seen and not heard? How does the king deal with such fiery defiance? He wondered.

Steven clasped a hand on the Duke’s shoulder and bellowed a laugh. You frowned at your husband. Even Lord Barnes seemed to be taken back from the reaction. “I think you’ve had one too many to drink, my love. You best retire to your chambers. Lady Natasha, if you will.”

“Are you sending me to my room like a child?” You questioned, raising your eyebrows up in annoyance.

Steven only meant to exclude you from the narrative. You were disrespecting and challenging a noble who had control over much needed grain. But you didn’t know that. All you knew was that the man was disrespectful and rude and needed to be reminded of his place.

“Perhaps you should break this one in more,” Strucker chided. “She seems rather mouthy.”

“I beg your pardon?” You snapped. The commotion seemed to drag more attention. Lord Rumlow was rushed to your side. Steven frowned upon seeing his cousin try to pull you away.

“Perhaps, I should.” Steven said dryly. He glared at Brock’s hand on your arm as you glared at him.

“Steve – “Bucky whispered, pulling at the king’s arm.

“Perhaps, should I also sell Lady Wanda to a whorehouse? Since she dresses the part already.”

“Steve!” Bucky gasped. “The king’s drunk, your grace,” he said, turning to you. “He doesn’t mean it.”

Your eyes were nearly bulging out of your head. You pulled you arm away from Brock’s hand as you rushed towards your husband, pointing a finger into his broad chest. “Don’t you dare talk about my lady, my friend, in that manner, you vile monster!”

Steven’s face fell as the words escaped your lips. The whole court seemed to freeze. The music had stopped abruptly as the whole party watched you undermine the king in his own castle, at his own party. He looked over at Brock, who steadily tried to call your attention, trying to take you away from him. He felt anger bubbling up in his chest. He couldn’t stop his hand from striking you across the face.

Your head snapped to the side. You heard someone gasp. And again, the whole court was at a standstill.

Your skin tingled with pain as tears pricked in your eyes. Your shaky hand reached towards your burning skin and winced. His wedding ring had cut your cheek. Blood collected at the slit.

“Your grace, come,” Lord Rumlow muttered, pulling you back. “(Y/N).” Natasha let go of James’s hand and rushed over to your side. You allowed Brock to pull you away and lead you out of the party, your friend beside you.

You couldn’t hold it together. As soon as the doors slammed shut, leaving you alone with the two, you let out a sob. Natasha wrapped her arms around you and ran her fingers through your hair, trying to calm you.

“We should go to your chambers.” Lord Rumlow muttered. “No one must see you cry.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I want to go back to my old rooms. I will not share a bed with him. Not tonight. Never again.” You looked over at Brock. He felt sorry for you. He truly did. “Tell Lord Pierce that I will take his offer.”

The promise of safety and sanctuary in Wakanda had interested you before. It was your very plan when you initially ran away from York. But you did have a reason to stay by your husband. A good reason. But now it was the very reason you needed to leave.

Your hand grazed over your stomach. There was no bump, not yet, but you knew – the midwife confirmed it. The life growing inside of you needed to be protected from all harm, but the greatest threat seemed to be the man you married. The monster truly bearing his fangs to you for the first time.

And if you or your baby had any chance at survival in this court, you needed to leave it.

[machi-kun]

For the writing prompts, 48 ‘meeting again at the high school reunion’ :D

👀👀👀👀👀

****

“That’s Steve Rogers.” Tony gasps. “It can’t be. It - That’s Steve Rogers. Oh, my God!”

“Oh, my God.” Pepper says, long-suffering.

“Did you know about this?!”

“Yes, Tony, I keep tabs on every single one of our former classmates - of course not, why would I know this?”

“He’s tall!” Tony exclaims, maybe a little too hysterically, because a few heads turn in his direction, shooting him confused and worried looks. “He used to be shorter than me! And he was skinny, he had asthma, he - what happened to him?!”

Because something must have happened! Something, because people don’t just grow like that out of nowhere! Not that it hasn’t been years, because it has, but Tony thinks has the right to be shocked; He is not one for wet sciences and genetics, but he can’t imagine how much can he assign Steve Roger’s utter and complete transformation to “grow spurt” and not straight up “scientific experiment gone incredibly out of hand”, because that shouldn’t be possible. 

Steve used to go up to Tony’s shoulder - look at him now! What the hell.

“Can you calm down for a second, it’s not a big deal.” Rhodey says unimpressed.

“How can it be not a big deal-”

“It really isn’t.” Rhodey insists, sounding maddeningly bored. “People get grow spurts all the time, just because you didn’t doesn’t mean other people can’t either.”

Tony sputters, wildly offended. 

“And it’s not like he’s all that different. You can still definitely tell it’s him.” Rhodey muses, taking one long, considering glance at tall, built like a goddamned tank Steve Rogers, and he dares to snort a laugh at the sight of Tony’s utter bafflement. “And don’t act like you didn’t have the most ridiculous crush on him when he was small, because you did, and everyone knew. This is nothing new for you.”

“Not everyone.” Tony rebuffs, which is stupid, because what he meant to say is that he didn’t, he didn’t have a crush on tiny Steve Rogers, except maybe he kinda did, okay, and who is Rhodey to make fun of him for it, when he had a crush on Wilson for an entire year?

“Wow.” Pepper says, blinking slowly, halfway through a laugh. “That was very convincing, I am very impressed.”

“Actually - you know what, I will not stand here and have all these lies about me - I am leaving you both here.”

“Go talk to Steve, then.” Rhodey dares.

“Fine!” Tony says, huffing. “I will!”

He takes two steps forward - and stops.

“I-”

“Tony.” Pepper threatens before he can even turn. “Go.”

Alright. He can do this.

It’s just Steve Rogers. No big deal.

Christ, it’s Steve Rogers.

It should not be a big deal, but it kind of is. It is for Tony, at least. Okay, maybe Rhodey is right and Tony did have a bit of a crush on Steve back then, but - how could he not? Okay? Tony’s pretty sure half the class had been kinda in love with the guy, even if Steve used to be, and Tony’s quoting here, “like that” and “no one wanted to go out with him”. Which was, for starters, not true, because Tony would have definitely gone out with Steve if Steve had asked, and two - Tony knows for a fact that Steve and Sharon dated for a couple of months just after their graduation and Steve had definitely still been tiny when that happened, because they still talked back then.

Tony missed him, when he moved to the West Coast. He didn’t want to stop talking to Steve, it just happened. Steve had always been amazing. And gorgeous. And Tony liked him, a lot. Of course he missed him.

Tony just... He never told him that, because how could he? How could he tell Steve that and not completely give himself away, with that ridiculous crush of his? 

But he’s an adult now. He can handle Steve Rogers, as pretty and incredible and freakishly built he might be. He’s fine. He’s got this.

“Steve Rogers!” Tony bellows, with practiced ease and smugness, gesturing to Steve with unabashed appreciation. “Look at our leader, ladies and gentlemen!”

Steve turns to face Tony and - oh. 

Oh, Tony doesn’t have this. At all. Nope. 

“Tony.” Steve says, and his voice is deeper now, Tony feels like he’s going to combust. “God, it’s so good to see you!”

Tony has to look up to face him now - his absurdly blue eyes, his cheekbones, his lips - oh, Christ, Tony might still be a little bit in love with Steve Rogers.

“Great to see you too.” Tony pats him on the shoulder - all muscle, just like the rest of him now - and pretends he’s not shaking. “How long has it been?”

“Too long.” Steve smiles, and steps back so he can make room for Tony to step forward, and only then Tony realizes that the other people present, meaning the people he just rudely and loudly interrupted in favor of his flawless act of totally not being affected by the sight of Steve, are Wilson and Sharon. 

“Tony, hey.” Sharon greets him kindly, and Wilson surprisingly also cracks a smile and raises his drink in a welcoming gesture.

“The whole class rep team together!” Tony exclaims, a little delighted, a little fucking terrified. “Where is our resident troublemaker, then?”

“Standing right next to you?” Sharon laughs, and pays Steve no mind when he shoots her a very unimpressed glare. “C’mon, Steve, we all know between you and Barnes, you are definitely worse.”

“Yeah. And hey, you know just because we ain’t kids anymore doesn’t mean Barnes can’t kick your ass, right, Stark? In fact, he might kick your ass harder, so you watch out for that.” Wilson jokes, his expression full of amusement.

“Barnes loves me too much.” Tony says, and Wilson full-on snorts, the sound echoing in his cup as he takes a sip. “What? He does. We all know that his problem with me was because he secretly loved me and totally not because I broke his arm on PE once.”

“Was it now?” Steve teases, and Tony has to lock all his muscles like they’re made of stone to prevent himself from shivering. 

“Sure it was. You should know, Rogers.”

“Yeah.” Wilson laughs, half-hiding his shit-eating grin on his cup. “You should know.”

“You shut up.” Steve says, and when Wilson and Sharon laugh, his ears go adorably pink. “Why don’t you go talk to Rhodes?”

“Oh, yes, please do.” Tony exclaims, jittery with joy at the idea of making Rhodey’s life just a little bit harder. If he can poke fun at Tony, Tony is definitely allowed to poke back. “He’s gonna love seeing you, Wilson. Tell him I sent you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you just tryin’ to get Steve alone, you ain’t subtle.” Wilson jabs, but before Tony can even process the words fully, let alone react to them, Wilson claps a hand on his back and steps out, supposedly, to find Rhodey. “Good seeing you, man.”

And he just leaves. Worse, Sharon leaves too, with a nod and an all-too-knowing look in her eyes, and then, Tony is suddenly left alone with Steve goddamn Rogers, who Tony may or may not still have a ridiculous crush on!

“So.” Tony exhales, harshly. “No Barnes?”

Steve looks at him like he’s amused, smirking at a private joke. “Jerk’s late. I set him an alarm and everything, but you know how he is.”

“I do? I guess I have vague memories of our glorious highschool days but clearly, I missed something.” Tony jokes, trying to be suave, but Steve is smiling like the way he used to smile when Tony fumbled with his words, when Steve made him flustered; and it’s making him flustered all over again like Tony is still fifteen and very very charmed by the tiny class president. “Because I don’t remember you being...”

“This size?” Steve gestures to himself, and Tony is a weak man, because he can’t refuse the excuse to look.

“Guess you could say that.” Tony teases. “I didn’t know art school could do that to you. I would almost guess you joined the army.”

“You knew I went to art school?” Steve asks, delighted, and - shit. 

“You always talked about it, when we were younger. And I knew you could do it.” And because Tony’s mouth doesn’t know how to stay shut, he accidentally says, “And I’ve seen a show you did once. A gallery, I mean, an exhibition. The one in Boston?”

“The one for my family.” Steve clarifies, eyes going all gentle and fond. 

“Yeah, that one.” Tony clears his throat. “Sarah must have been really proud. How is she, by the way?”

“The same as always. Nothing can stop her from kicking my ass when I need it.” Steve admits, a little embarrassed, and Tony can’t help but give a hearty laugh because yeah, that’s the Sarah Rogers he remembers, and suddenly, he’s overcome with nostalgia for the afternoons he spent at the Rogers’ place, feeling far more comfortable than anywhere else in the world. 

“God, I miss Sarah.” Tony confesses.

Steve pauses, and he looks at Tony with such an intense gaze Tony can’t look away. “And she misses you. We still talk about you sometimes.”

Tony blinks. “You do?”

“Tony.” Steve tilts his head, playfully, like he can’t believe Tony’s surprise. “Ma practically adopted you the moment you stepped a foot inside her house. If I hadn’t stopped her, she would have trapped you there and never let you leave.”

“Well, for Sarah Rogers, I wouldn’t have minded that.” 

“Neither would I.” Steve says, to Tony’s complete shock, and his face blooms ina flush of heat, mortifyingly. “But I had enough problems on my plate without Jarvis breathing down my neck.”

“Jarvis loves you, he always did.” Tony complains, childishly, in reflex. “I was the one always getting a speech when it was you who was always getting into fights and getting us both bruised!”

“You didn’t have to fight with me.”

“I definitely did.”

“You should come over, sometime.” Steve offers, suddenly, talking fast, as if he’s trying to get the words out all at once. “See Ma again. She would love that.”

“I-” Tony chokes. “Are you sure?”

“Tony. I really missed you. We both did.” Steve gulps down hard, his jaw working almost hypnotically. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep in touch.”

Tony shakes his head frantically. “That wasn’t your fault. If anything, it was mine. It just - a lot of things happened, and-”

“We both had a rough time.” Steve interrupts, gently, and Tony gives him a silent nod. “I know it. But I think we both could use a win now, couldn’t we?”

Tony pauses. “Is taking me home to meet your mom a win, Rogers?”, he says, feeling daring.

“Definitely.” Steve says, coy, and slowly, he looks Tony up and down, all of him, as if he’s drinking in the sight, and that look, in Steve’s blue, sharp eyes, make Tony tremble where he stands. “And this time, I might not let you leave either.”

What happened to Steve Rogers! Tony wants to scream, mind going a hundred miles an hour, hysterical. I don’t know how to handle this!

“We can do that.” he says instead, nonsensical, short on breath.

“Alright.” Steve says, satisfied. “Give me your number.”

“What?” 

“Your number.” He smiles. “I’m not giving you the chance to second guess this, Tony. I know you. I’m calling you, and we’ll go out sometime. Does that sound ok?”

“Sounds awesome.” Tony admits, just a little winded. “I’d love that.”

“Good.” Steve puffs his chest out, just a little, like he’s proud of himself, and when Tony finally gets out a business card from his wallet and awkwardly writes his personal number on the back, it takes all his strength not to react to the brush of Steve’s cold fingers against his when he grabs the paper.

Steve stares at the number like Tony has just given him the greatest of gifts. 

And when he looks up at Tony and the sentiment in his eyes does not fade, Tony can’t do anything but exhale slowly, deeply, a ridiculously infatuated sigh.

“It’s great seeing you, Steve.” He says.

“You too.” Steve echoes, just as fond. “Can I call you tonight?”

Fuck.

“Yes.”

“Then I will.” He smiles.

Crap.

Tony definitely still is a little bit in love with Steve Rogers.

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/82725124

Chapter 76

When Nick opened his eyes, he was taken by surprise. Right in front of him, healthy, awake and smiling, lay Arthur Hastings. “Good morning, long sleeper”, the vision greeted him quietly. “Did you miss me?” It felt so good to hear his voice. “So I really overdid it with the painkillers in the end”, Nick mused loudly. “Or is this a dream?” “Neither”, Arthur said amused. “We're both alive.” “Oh, come on.” Nick waved him off. “I'm not that naïve anymore. But it's nice to see you again...” He took the vision's hand and squeezed it. “Do I feel dead?”, Arthur teased him. Nick felt very closely. The skin was warm and soft. “No”, he decided. Suddenly, the vision crawled closer and pressed a passionate kiss on his lips. “And this?”, he asked. “Hmm...I don't know...”, Nick muttered, very puzzled but thrilled. “I think I need more of this...” Arthur looked around, doubting. “I don't think we should in here...” But Nick pulled him closer for another extensive testing. It felt good. Then he lay his forehead against Arthur's and stroked the man's back. His sluggish tiredness made way to euphoria.

If he was really dead, he wouldn't be still here, in this bed, right? Arthur didn't have to sleep in the same uncomfortable bed as him...but he was here...could it be that...? “Arthur?”, he asked, being pressed tightly against the other man. “Yes?”, Arthur returned. “Is it really you?” “Do you need another test?” He didn't say 'no' to that. Shortly after, he was convinced and didn't know how to express the overdose of joy he felt. “Arthur! Arthur, where have you been?”, he sobbed dryly. “I've been looking everywhere for you! Nobody could help me!” His lover hugged him again, like he had done it in the tunnel. “Ssshh...”, he whispered, patting his head. Nick sobbed into the crook of his neck. “I was at Victoria Byng's place...You know, my former boss...”, Arthur began to explain. “Why? What did she want?”, Nick blurted out. “Have you been in trouble? Are you hurt?” “Ssshh...no. It was really weird. All she wanted was to talk to me. She apologized for chasing me off when I turned Downer. It's like people really came back to their senses...” Nick slowly calmed down, thinking of the Wellies who were busy cleaning up their town...who didn't need to be on Joy anymore. “Yeah...it's over now. Nobody's taking Joy. There's no curfew. We can go wherever we want. All the rubble...and the corpses...sometimes I wish I had my Joy.”

“Wellington Wells looked like this once before, right after the war. Then everyone took Joy to forget”, Arthur remembered. “This time, we have to face it.” “Honestly, without you, I wouldn't have a reason to go on”, Nick blurted out. Arthur tenderly kissed his forehead. “Do you know...we can't pass the tunnel...” “I though they were still trying to fix it.” “Yeah...they are...I hope they'll make it.” “I'm so sorry, Arthur”. Nick's green eyes viewed him mournfully. Arthur patted his head again. “Don't be...I don't regret anything.” “Damn Victoria Byng. I kill her.” Arthur almost chuckled. “How long have you been alone?” “An awfully long time! A couple of days...I thought I lost you forever!” Arthur was shocked. “What, so long? But I just woke up! I'm so sorry!” “It's not your fault, my love. I swear, if I see her again...” “What did you do all this time?” “I helped the others as soon as I was able to walk properly. We clean up the mess.” “I hope it's worth it”, Arthur said before he could stop himself. Nick looked at him. “Not all of them want to leave...Some can't imagine another home than this...They want to save what's left and start new...Why shouldn't they at least try?” Arthur noticed that his outbreak had sounded very bitter. “Yeah...you're right...” He thought about the tunnel that was closed, Victoria, who had given him the permission to search the executive committee's office for clues about Percy...

Nick began to stir. “Are you hungry? We can get breakfast here, even though it's only porridge. It's better than nothing.” Arthur pondered. “I could go look if my house is still standing. Perhaps I have something edible left in my storage.” Nick dug himself out of Arthur's arms to beam at him. “Well, how does that sound?” Arthur grinned. Nick kissed him as an answer. Finally spending time with him, that's what he was pining for. They got up, then Nick crouched next to the bed to lift up something. “Would you mind if I take this baby with me?”, he asked, showing off a very new looking guitar. “Don't tell me the tunnel suite is still intact!” Arthur widened his eyes. “Er, no...I don't know, I wasn't there...this is from a shop in this district. I...er...borrowed it since the shop is closed.” Arthur laughed. “Alright. I don't think anyone will miss it. Let's bring it home.” Nick happily shouldered it and followed Arthur outside. As if the world was happy too, the sun was shining brightly, making the dirty cobblestone glow. For the first time, Nick had the feeling that the colours weren't as dull and grey as usual. But as if that was already too good to be true, a figure appeared walking towards the church.

“Isn't that Brad Wilson?”, Arthur asked. Nick sighed. “Yeah.” He turned away. “Now he'll think I lied to him when I said you probably didn't make it”, he muttered to himself. “Huh?” Arthur was puzzled, but Brad approached him already. “Hey, Arthur, you made it! That's fantastic news!”, he greeted him cheerfully and they shook hands. “Yeah...hell of a story...”, Arthur answered. “We got separated, woke up in different places, it was a mess...” “Sure. I've seen the tunnel...It's crazy you made it out alive.” “Did I though? I hope I'm alive.” They laughed. “Did you make it? I mean, the whole band?” “Yeah...but because we've been cowards. When people started killing each other, we hid in our dressing room for most of the time....that means, after we've been lucky enough to get back there...People freaked out without Joy.” He shook his head. More regretful, he added: “And us, too...” “I see...”, Arthur was taken aback by such an honest response from a Wellie. “But that's great news, too!” He wondered why Nick was so quiet. “I'm sorry we couldn't help you...When the riot started, all we could do was run.” “Don't beat yourself up about it. Nick told us that you had a hell of an adventure.” Arthur almost blushed. “Did he?” “Are you alright?”, Brad asked now with honest concern. He looked like he knew Arthur escaped a mass murderer. “I'm getting there...”, Arthur said awkwardly. “I'm glad..would you mind if borrowed Nick for a while?” “Er...no?” He gave Nick an unsure look. “We were about to for a walk, but I'm sure we can catch up later...?” Nick didn't look approving. “Can't Arthur come with me?” “I don't think that would be a good idea”, Brad gave him an urging look. Nick put a hand on his lover's shoulder and went a few steps away from Brad.

“Arthur, I just met you again”, he said and took his hand. “I can't leave you yet! I just lost you! I don't want it to happen again!” Nick looked like he was about to panic. Arthur put his hands on Nick's shoulders. “Ssshh...hey...I promise I'll be here when you come back...either in the church or my home...You know the address, right?” Nick named the address on Lansdown road. “Right. I'll be there, I promise. No more old bosses”, Arthur tried to make a joke. “Arthur, I don't...I can't do that...”, Nick whispered. “Yes, you can...Please, Nick, trust me...” “No, I mean...I can't meet them....” Sadness mixed into his expression. “I just can't.” “Why not?” “It's because what James did...what I did for him...They can't forgive me...It's over. I can't go back there.” “But Brad is here just for you.” “Yeah, well...He's the nicest but I don't know what he really thinks of me...Perhaps they just want to interrogate me some more...I don't want to leave you just for that!” “But...isn't that your life's work? Isn't that what you've been fighting for?” “Yeah, sure...” Nick suppressed the memories. “But now I have you! I lost this band long ago and I should probably move on...” “I just don't want you to regret this, Nick. All my life, I've been running away from my problems and from other people. There's not a single moment I don't regret now. I came back to you and...See how it paid off! Don't these people mean something to you?” Nick thought about it. “Sure...I spent the biggest part of my life with them...I just think there's no hope...” Arthur knew that feeling. “Please give this a chance. Be sure. It's still possible that you mean a lot to them. Don't spend the rest of your life wondering what could've been.” Nick eyed him. “And if don't mean anything to them?” “Then I'll be here for you. No matter what happens, you can come back to me. So, it won't be that bad, right?” Arthur squeezed Nick's shoulders and tried a smile. “I swear, if I see you now for the last time...”, Nick urged him. “I'll be good, I promise! I won't climb into holes, I won't start a fight, I'll just stay here and wait”, Arthur declared. Nick sighed deeply. Than he pulled Arthur into a tight hug. “Stay strong, Nick...”, Arthur whispered. “It pays off, I promise...” “I love you...” “I love you too...” They slowly parted and Nick went to follow Brad to the next band meeting. Arthur watched Nick go, hoping he did the right thing.

Nick went along with Brad but he didn't look happy. Also, he didn't say a word. "I'm glad for you...about Arthur...", Brad said some time later. "It's the best thing that happened to me since after the riot...", Nick answered glumly. But he was surprised about the condolence. "How are you guys doing?", he asked quieter. Brad needed a moment for his answer. "We had a rough night..." Nick crossed his arms. "Is it really a good idea to bring me back?" "Nick...just try your best, okay?", Brad said urgently. "I'm here for support, but I can't work wonders." Nick was already longing for Arthur's arms again. He only nodded. When he noticed they were walking into the same alley again, he asked: "So, you pick up where you left off?" "We're living here", Brad explained. "We came here often, to have a moment for ourselves, to cope with all this...Since no one  claimed this house back, we stayed." "Did you ever think of going back to Hamlyn Village?" "Well, yes, but...somehow, everybody is still here...waiting for something...We can't just go on like before..." "Yeah...", Nick only said. They crossed the backyard again and entered through the back door. It felt weird to see a normal house from inside again. It seemed as if he viewed it through a dirty window. This world was pale and dusty, not like he remembered it. What did his own home look like now?

Matt approached them. "Oh, it's you", he said past Nick. "That's a  sad greeting", Brad answered. Matt hung his shoulders. "Chris is gone again." Brad sighed. "He'll come back...He needs more time..." Matt didn't answer but eyed Nick waveringly. "And you?", Nick therefore asked. "Do you want to see me or would it be better if I left too?" Matt leaned against the doorframe. Without the mask, Nick could clearly see how tired and disappointed he looked. "I have questions, Nick...", he said quietly. "I can't forget about Morrie, ever since he entrusted himself to me..." Nick looked down. "You know my ways..." "Yeah, I know, and for all I care, you can do what you want with your birds! But Morrie was one of us! Why didn't you at least tell him the truth?" Nick gulped. "James wanted met to keep them both..." "You told him?" "Yeah..." Nick took a deep breath. "As I said, he was my therapist. I told him many things...I really thought he'd help me..." "If you had any common sense, you would've known what to do!" "I couldn't decide, okay?", Nick blurted out. "Properly speaking, Arthur was first. I just didn't know that he...I only learned that after I met Morrie again." "Then you should've told him he's too late!" "Do you think I'm that cold? Just brush him off like that..." "And instead you rather play with Morrie? Or both of them?" Matt snapped in disbelief. "Sure, that's way more fun!" "It wasn't about fun! I wanted to be fair to both of them and I didn't know who to choose, so I asked James for help...Now in hindsight, I know that he wanted me to lose both of them, so that he had me for himself....or he wanted me to be cruel to my loved ones, to learn to like it...But I didn't." "Still you didn't do shit!", his former friend spat. "I wanted to tell Morrie, just the day he..." Nick stopped. "The day Morrie found out himself! How very noble of you! We heard your last fight with too, you know?" "I needed it to wake up...James must've known that the game was over, that's why he..." "How did he know? And how did he know where Morrie was?" Matt glared at him. "...I don't know..." Nick felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "I didn't tell him! I didn't visit him that night! He had to be one of the guests!" "Or you told him ealier that you wanted to spill it all out to Morrie..." "No! I made that decision all alone! He didn't know anything", Nick insisted. "Really, Matt! I would've confessed already! I told you about Virgil...I'm searching for memories every day...but there's nothing..."

After a short pause, Matt asked: "Did it really matter what James said? Be honest, wouldn't you have kept both of them anyway?" Nick thought about it, then he shook his head. "I've made an oath to Morrie...Then I met with Arthur again, because...because everything had started with him...because he saved my life, because I couldn't reject him like that...But then...I think I would've stopped this earlier. I admit I was worried about Arthur, because he was a Downer and I wanted to help him. But I also wanted Morrie back...He said I could tell him everything...Without James, I couldn't keep this up for so long...I would've told Morrie without knowing what to do afterwards..." "Not Arthur?" "Well...he was so...chary...He would've left...would've thought it was his fault...It would've been the same as breaking up." "But you are serious about Arthur, right?", Brad suddenly asked with an urging look. Nick returned the gaze. "Yeah, I am!" "But he never knew?", Matt pointed out. "He...found out...and he forgave me...I did something right with him...and now I'll stay with him..." "Why, I  thought he's missing?" Nick smiled for the first time. "He came back last night." "That's true. I met him", Brad confirmed. "Really, Matt! If it hadn't been for the fake Blackberry Joy, I wouldn't have been so cruel! I would've told Morrie the truth! I didn't want to lose him again! I loved him!" Matt didn't answer. His expression was gloomy. Nick slumped down on a chair, out of energy.

"Did you really have to engage with this James?", Matt muttered after a while. Nick made a face. "Virgil wasn't an option anymore....I've had a nasty fight with him and he was sick of me, I think. He barely came to see me, he only communicated via notes..." "But he was back for us too." "Yeah, because you were a promising offer! Actually, he already had a new star. Without you, I wouldn't have had another chance!" "Wait...he had a new star?" "Yeah, Birdie...you remember? She played the gig with us on Memorial Day." "Oh, right..." Matt remembered. "And I thought she was a substitute for Arthur." "Was she a substitute for Arthur?", Brad asked. "No", Nick said with emphasis. "We were both mourning for Virgil, that's all." They fell quiet. "I admit, I had given up already. James was the one who made me think that I coud still be useful..." He laughed bitterly. "He gave me so much hope. He made me feel I could redeem myself. Ironically, without his Joy I would've never made it. I was always stoned or drunk or both and I never knew what day it was...With his Joy, I suddenly got through the day without needing other drugs...I was kinda normal again...That's why I trusted this stuff. I could never remember any...raidings, until it was too late." "Do you know why he was after you?", Brad asked more mildly. "No...He claimed to be a fan...Said he wanted me to be a star again...Perhaps he wanted to punish people by turning their idol into a killer, or he was crazy enough to think he was doing me a favour...I don't believe he wanted to take revenge on me...he wanted me as a friend..." "One can do without such friends", Matt muttered. Nick curled up and nodded as an answer. Brad walked closer. "You know, after ditching us like that, we thought you used us, screwed us over good and proper. A few days ago we thought you did it again. But you were serious, right?" "Yeah, I never wanted to screw you over! I wasn't myself when that happened! Perhaps you remember now that we didn't come along anymore. But I didn't want us to split, so I begged Virgil for help. He offered me to go on with my own band...I was so high, I didn't notice what it really meant...Later I had no clue what happened, I only knew I wronged you and I wanted to make up for it. Instead I made it worse..." He rubbed his eyes. "Chris is right. I am an idiot." The others didn't dissent. "But it was nice to see you again...to believe I could belong again...It was the best feeling...better than Joy." The room fell silent. Nick waited for them to dismiss him.

Suddenly, Chris entered the scene. "Well, what a party...", he commented, sitting down on a chair and crossing his legs. "You three are really getting along..." Matt took a deep breath and stretched himself. "This is just a gigantic pile of shit..." "Well said!", Chris approved. "The whole town though...", Brad replied. The two exchanged tense glances. "Come on, the Joy, the crazy doctors, the masks with fake smiles, the way we've been starving without noticing, how we've been betrayed all the time, you can't tell me it doesn't matter." Chris made a face. "How lucky he is, that in addition the whole town ran wild...It makes his own mistakes seem so much smaller..." "You can't blame this on him." "And you can't use it to defend him!" Chris banged on the table. Then he got up. "Norbert always only cared for his own well-being! He had used us before! I guess you don't give a shit anymore, but you're also not the one he stole his riffs from! I had to put up with this! He fucked up my career, not yours!" "If you think he stole something from you, you should speak to him." “If I think?” Chris was upset. “Have you lost your memory? You used to know he stole our ideas!” “I believe you mean something else.” “Do you? And what?” “You should tell him.” They looked at each other for a while, then Chris turned to Nick. “Do you also think I'm making this up?”

Nick gave him a short glance, then eyed the floor again. “I always admired you...”, he quietly said. “I always wanted to...sound like you, already when I wasn't a part of the band yet...I wanted to impress you.” “And you think it impresses me when you're stealing?”, Chris snapped. “I didn't steal! I only sounded similar.” “What a coincidence!” “You gave me lessons, do you remember? You taught me a lot of things and I soaked it all in.” “And this is how you thank me?”, Chris shouted. “Because I've been such a good friend you make me look like an impostor? Steal all my success and make me vanish from the scene?” “I wasn't myself! I was so stoned, I didn't know what I was doing!” “Oh, right, it's the Joy's fault! May I remind you that we've all been taking it but only you turned out to be the traitor in the end? I was your own character, Nicky!” “You didn't have Virgil...” “So it's also Virgil's fault? Funny he's dead and can't defend himself.” “He wanted me as a star! That's why he continued with me and no one of you! And he wanted me to play our songs!” “I bet you went along just fine.” “I thought it was temporary. I never realized we split until much later.” “You thought we'll subordinate us to the Golden God like good boys...” “I didn't see it like that! I was high!” Nick gave Chris a begging look. “And spoiled! You never noticed how everything was centred around you!” Chris folded his arms. Nick eyed the floor again. “Believe me, it was never about me...we've always been a team...” “You got used to your solo-career rather quickly...” “Of course I didn't refuse to be a star! But I didn't plan it from the start, you can't accuse me of this!” “You were simply lucky, right?” “I never asked Virgil why he wanted me of all people...But I can't claim that he was wrong.” “Perhaps you've been the most reckless.” “If I was reckless, I would now wander though the Garden District with James, cutting hearts out of Wastrels! But I freed myself from him!” “With Arthur's help, I assume.” “If he didn't mean so much to me, I would've killed him! And if I didn't do anything right with him, he wouldn't have come back to me!” Nick became quieter again. “I'm sorry that it went that way....I would've loved to be a part of you again...Giving you what I owed to you...I didn't want to put you in danger...I'm sorry that you're better off without me.” He got up. The others watched him but kept quiet.

“If you have no more questions, then...” “You want to leave?”, Matt asked. “I don't know...does it matter, what I want? What do you want?” He looked into awkward faces. “I have Arthur now, who's giving me a chance...I need to prove him that I'm not a reckless traitor.” “Wait...I thought he's missing?”, Chris asked. “You're not quite up-to-date”, Matt explained. “Arthur is back. Brad did see him, too.” “But this is also weird!” “But it's true”, Nick insisted. “Arthur and I got separated, because someone else had a score to settle with him...He came back last night.” “Holy shit...” Chris wiped his forehead. “What a mess...” “I don't expect you to believe me...I had my chance”, Nick said gloomily. “Is he okay?” Nick was surprised again. “Yeah...he's not hurt...” Chris nodded and silenced. Nick looked around, waiting if someone spoke up again. Matt seemed to have an inner fight with himself and Brad looked deep in thoughts. Nick couldn't bear the silence any longer and went out of the room. Brad followed him. Nick noticed that he didn't want to stop him, but to lead him to the door. Nick tried to cope with this kind of goodbye when Brad said quietly to him: “Norbert, we let you leave  now but it doesn't mean you're not allowed to come back. The others need more time, but you did well...There's still a chance.” “Why do you support me like that?”, Nick asked, looking up to him. Brad's expression became thoughtful. “Well...perhaps I'm nostalgic...Perhaps I'm clinging to our old life...But we don't have much left, only ourselves...We don't even know if we'll ever get off this goddamn rock...Fighting is no use...” “What if I left for good?” “It wouldn't change anything! They're just about to blame you for all that happened to them in the past ten years! They would live another lie and I don't want that! I want to leave this shit behind!” “So, what do you want from me?” “Just wait one more day. You gave them something to chew on, so let's wait what becomes of that.” “Okay...” Nick was taken aback once more when Brad patted his shoulder. “Why aren't you mad? Yesterday I was afraid you'd kill me,” he blurted out. “I was mad, that's true...But in the end, we've all been stupid, we've all been listening to Uncle Jack and the Joy Doctors...I can't believe what I did myself... Let's just say it was a good idea not to tell me that Arthur was a Downer...”, he said bitterly. “I would be even more ashamed if you'd get all the blame alone.” “Hey...” Nick was about to touch his arm, but thought twice. “Thank you...” “Nothing to thank me for...” Nick left the house with a better feeling than he had hoped for. But perhaps it was because he looked forward to see Arthur.

He searched for him in the church at first, but his lover wasn't there. More nervously, he made his way to his house...what was the address again? For a moment he had a blackout, but then he remembered and muttered it quietly to himself, over and over. When he could finally clasp Arthur in his arms, he didn't let go for a long time. Arthur went inside the house with him. “How did it go?”, he asked, fondling Nick's hair. He had a presentiment, because Nick was so clingy and he already regretted his advise. Nick slowly let go. “They didn't decide yet. Brad wants us to be friends again but the others can't forgive me yet. I don't know if they ever will...I made such a mess...” “Do you regret going back?” Arthur was worried. “Some things really hurt to hear...But you're right, I would've always asked myself what could've happened...Like this, I have a chance...” They hugged again. “I...was in the tunnel suite today...”, Arthur began. “You've been in the tunnel?”, Nick flared up. “Arthur!” “Only the one in Hamlyn! There was no landslide. I was careful.” “Why were you there?” “Because we still had supplies there...I see people trying to save what they can and I want to help, too. I brought as much as I could carry and handed it to the doctors. I also made healing balms until I ran out of stock.” “You're indispensable, King”, Nick sighed. Arthur furrowed his brows. “I found something else, too...I think it's for you...” He pulled something out of his pocket. Looking at the black envelope, Nick started to shiver. “Where did you find this?” “On your bed.” “No...no...this can't be!” Nick eagerly shook his head. “Do you know who writes these letters? Foggy Jack!” “It could be an old one”, Arthur tried to calm him down. “We haven't been there for a long time.” Nick caught his breath. “Right...it could be...” Then he unsurely eyed the letter. “Is it dangerous?”, Arthur asked. “Actually...he always wrote completely normal letters...If...if he's still alive...then...we have to...” “We will”, Arthur said firmly. “He can't hide as easily as before. People are not on Joy anymore, they can remember him and we can warn them.” Nick nodded and took the letter with shaking hands. He gave Arthur a short glance before he opened it and pulled out the piece of paper. Foggy Jack's handwriting made a shiver run down his spine. He needed to sit down in order to go on.

My dear Nick, sometimes fate goes strange ways. I'm writing you, hoping that you're able to read this letter one day, that this town in it's insanity didn't lead you into the abyss. That I didn't lead you there. I was already a shadow of myself when you fell into my hands. I don't expect you to accept this as an apology, but I never intended to hurt you. I really believed that I was helping you. Don't worry, you did never kill. That's what I told you because I wanted you to get used to the thought. A part of me still regrets that you didn't decide upon me. I will miss you. We could've lived our lie a little while longer... Don't look for me. I know I've come to the end of my time. My life is leaving me hour by hour. I was exposed to “Blackberry Joy” for too long. But you have a chance. Use it. Farewell, my friend! Your biggest fan Jack Worthing

Nick had to read the letter multiple times to fully understand it. “Jack Worthing?”, he then asked. “So it was him!”, Arthur said. “I knew I've heard the voice before!” Nick gave Arthur a helpless look. “Jack Worthing was James?” “He must've drugged you so you won't notice. What did he say?” “It's a...goodbye letter...” Nick actually felt grief for a moment. “It sounds like he's dying...of Joy-withdrawal.” Nick stared at the paper. “Uh...hooray?”, Arthur said quietly. “I feel sick...” Nick leaned back and let the paper fall on a counter. Arthur was quickly at his side, putting an arm around his shoulders. “Come, let's have a rest. Nick followed without hesitation.

[whichtammy]

Sent from Ithaca Ⅰ

Summary:

After "the Blip" and getting back to his daily life, Sam Wilson gets attracted by an email shown in his mailbox repeatedly and starts continuous correspondence with the sender named Ithaca. During their correspondence, Sam fills the lost memory of his lost home and starts to rebuild new life in the so-called post-bilp era. With the more letters he sends to and receives from Ithaca, however, the more strange connections does Sam find showing up between his real life and the words written down by that Ithaca who loves to tell stories and poems in his letters. Sam can't help but feeling that maybe there was not only an anonymous pen pal who loves literal fantasy behind the name of Ithaca, but a sign with an intention to lead him to get across the boundary between stories and the real life.

—————————————————————

Hi，

I was in your support group for veterans four years ago, are you still work there now? I'm wondering if I could be a member of your group again, or could you please recommend some other groups like that for me?

PS. I'd like to ask that can we talk if it is possible? The group work under your guidance had helped me a lot in the past, I wishthere could be a chance for me to say thank you in person.

Please contact me.

Yours

Ithaca

Sam Wilson finds the mail in his mailbox much of puzzling, the sender'sidentity is ambiguity, as well as the intention. He did work in a support group for veterans for a while, not a short time in fact, it was a regular and steady job after his retirement from the army. However, everybody could know it if one ever had any interest in Sam Wilson, nearly everything of him is on the internet after his real identity was made public, and his work experiences is just a small part of this massive archive of Sam Wilson, open source, 7/24 online. So, even the sender said he (maybe a she, Sam thinks) had been in his support group, there is nothing provable that he or she had really been there, nor if he is really a veteran who is searching for information. It seems like that the only real and clear intention is to get contact with Sam, and for some reasons, the contacts on the other side chose to make himself vague, hiding behind the name of Ithaca, which is no doubt an alias, left nothing of contact details, no phone number, no address. Of this Ithaca, the only information Sam receives is the request of "please contact me"at the end of an email and a traceless virtual mail address.

Another information Sam has is that the sending time of the mail is three years after when it was first sent. He checked through the inbox, there are actually more than one single letter with the same content, that Ithaca keeps sending the same mail to him every three months all the time and today is the day of another third month, so his mailbox received the exactly same words again. He must be doubting, if notthe detail time of "I was in your support group for veterans___ago" keeps changing, that maybe the sender had set a repeating schedule sending and forget it all afterwards, only to leave him an alarmed-like mailbox to remind him that "it'stime"with a virtual Ding.

However, the sender never forgot his letter, nor did Sam ever receive the reminder. He didn'tget any reminds of his mailbox at all during the past three years, in fact, he was even not reminded of himself either for such a long time. He feels like the life of his is a movie with the audience left midway, when the one was back to watch, it is already the "three years later". He also thinks himself as the movie lost audience and the audience missed the movie at the same time, as the movie, he continues without being conscious of, as the moviegoer, he watches with a lack of awareness of what has happened. There is a gap in his memory, something interrupted there, he knows it is there, but he can'tknow what it is that he missed exactly——he just keeps playing and watching, for he has settle down in now, he would have no time to chase the missing part in the past at the same time.

Is the mail a plot supplement of the movie? Sam clicks the reply, forIthaca’s mail, not the other mails alike in his inbox. His mail address got public too after the publicity, people keeps sendingmails in, they are just having a try, it'ssort of a free inviting after all. Many senders write true and false stories about themselves with fictional names and identities, some of them even make up stories of Sam and them to make themselves look like a real person who had real connection with him. Now, Sam has learned to distinguish these big and small lies from his experience of being a celebrity, he doesn'treply any of them now, but he picks up some long mails of them to read with an interest at some time and gets amazed by the imagination and details all the time. He admits to himself more than one time that he would really believe those stories they write about Sam Wilson if he is not Sam Wilson himself. Sometimes he would wonder, did he really in fact play a role in others'life in such a strange and detailed way? Is he really someone to others? Can he indeed have such strange and detailed meaning to strangers'life?

So he replys.

Hi Ithaca,

I'm not working in that group now, if you are looking for something like that, I think that the official website of SRV(Supporting and Rebuilding with Veteran) may provide the information you need about similar activities and groups we had before.

It would be my pleasure if i had helped, I'm so grateful for your supports, too.

Best wishes

Sam Wilson

He reads his brief reply again with a mixed feeling of curiosity and suspiciousness. He wants to see the sender behind the mask, while he is afraid of the fact that what he reveals would only be another face of a hater, a stalker. The mailbox is fulled with mails of stalking, fever, curses and hatred, and they are only a small part of the massive archive of the cult of Sam Wilson. Maybe that is what it takes be to a celebrity, Sam thinks, being a celebrity means exposing yourself to everyone, there is a chance that anyone could come for you, holding a comprehensive information of you and somehow your life truns to be a waiting for the ambush from maybe a friend or foe. He used to believe that he would leave the habit of distinguish people as friend and foe behind when he left the army, he knew he needed time to adopt a new regular life, he would take time to tame his battle life into a tamed daily life, that's why he joint the support group for veterans, as a group member first, sooner a group leader. Sam had expectations of it, he was hoping to build a loose but continuous connection between his two lives and land himself in the soft daily life without enemy in the end.The smooth landing he hoped for would not erase his old friends who had gone with his old foes away in a cold way, he was trying to make it a soft goodbye. Sam truly believe it a realistically ideal plan, he was planing to share this realistic idealism to more people like him. He failed, he thinks later, his vision of life was much simpler that what it is. Life was not going to say a soft hello in return, Sam soon realized the group was in fact the beginning of a new war. He had planned to meet with different people and experience, even complex adventures, the exciting potential was as another a great reason why he choose to keep contact with veterans, but he didn't see the whole vision, he didn't know how strange the man he would meet, nor did he predict the adventures coming along with him. He had no idea about the honor he would fight for, for he was clueless about bad things coming along with it as well.

He recalls that he had regarded the veteran group as a farewell to sacrifice, no more sacrifice he would see, what's waiting for would only be stories of sacrifice to be heard, they would not be alive but are only memories, living in the past and reliving only in the room crowded with lively narrators. That was what Sam expected for, he was prepared for heavy stories and sharing the burden of those who could take their stories alone no more. He would be obligatory to help if the owner wanted to share her or his story. Tell the untold, remember the forgotten, make nameless sacrifice heard and rest in a rectified name, he said this to himself. Now he sees the imprudence of his prediction, the future has given him stories as wish, telling him that his life would be totally changed by a stranger, who carries so many stories that he himself is like a fictional being in the end, every story he had dreamed for would come true because of the stranger, in a wilder way though, just like a fictional fantasy.

For this reason Sam feels he has a empathy for people who write him long letters, how couldn't he show up in someone's "normal life" when the living legend Captain America could ran into his house and asked for help when he was a normal nobody. Sam is immersing in those thoughts and writes his polite reply with a intention of keeping distance from Ithaca. On the one side, the last thing he wants to do is to arouse the interest of a potential stalker, on the other, he would blame himself if he intended to ignore someone with a honest and stubborn heart, even though he knows that the line between a insisting fan and insisting hater is always dim. Sam would like to believe maybe the sender really have some stories to tell, the name of Ithaca implies it, too. The name is another reason made him write his reply, he is home now, spending his time getting familiar with the small town he used to know very well. It occurs to him that the sender, if is telling the truth and did attend his group activities, could possibly be the young man who said wanted to be a poet in a theme activity of "getting a job". Sam remembers his talk, he said he was reading Homer then and recited some verses from the epic. He can't remember the verses by words, but he has a clear picture of the scene, it was some poetic sentences about the desire of going home and the failed of it. The young man said that everyone in the room would share the same feeling when they heard Ithaca calling Odysseus. A long silence fell down to the room after his speech, the young man sensed it too, he said "sorry" as a conclusion. There was no "it's OK" responded, perhaps people in the room had no clue of whether should she or he accept that apology, they may didn't know should they take it as something offensive but forgivable, people were just sad. Sam was short of words for a while, he hadn't read the book then, but the poem did hurt him down in a direct way. He thought at that time that maybe that was the gift of being a poet, look at the reckless young man, he could lift and drown people's hearts only by a verse.

Sam opens the browser to search what exactly the verses are, unfortunately, his vague memory leads him to nothing precisely relevant, which makes him want a reply mail from Ithaca more eagerly, he wants him to contact him back, as long as he is the young man in his memory. Sam opens his mailbox, writes and sends another mail to Ithaca, he thinks himself kind of reckless as soon as he clicked the button of "send", what if he is not him? What if the man on the other side has a dark plan? Would he use his letter as an inspiration of gossips and rumors? Things like that happen all the time. Sam is so tired of get misunderstood because of his own words being twisted, he always gets hurt of those made-up stories, he is tired of making explanations of his stories which are not belong to him at all, he is tired of feeling hurt. He sends it anyway.

Hi Ithaca,

I can't remember if it goes like

"they talk about the days of going home"

Sam

To Be Continued…

[roguesandsaviors]

A Different Sort of Case

Fandom: House, MD

Characters: Hattie (OFC), Greg House, James Wilson, Ducklings

Pairing: House x OC (platonic)

Summary: Hattie ends up at PPTH and comes across someone that she thought that she would never see again.

Word Count:2,120

Rating: SFW

Warnings: Hospitalization, cancer mentions, illness

Author’s note: This was spawned during a re-watch of House and thanks a certain someone spamming me with Hugh Laurie. I forgot how much I enjoyed this show. I don’t know how long this fic will end up being, It has sort of taken on a life of it’s own since I had planned on it being relatively short. Hope everyone enjoys. Unbeta-ed so all mistakes are my own. 

________________________________________________________

The lights above and all around me faded in and out of focus. My body wasn’t responding with anything that I asked it to do. I tried, with some amount of desperation, to move my fingers, move my legs, anything but nothing was coming of it. People were talking around me but the words were completely muffled. Nothing was making sense and a swell of panic hit me. I didn’t know what was going on but before it could get any worse, the blackness enveloped my vision and I passed out. 

There was pain everywhere. I still couldn’t move my arms and legs. Something was very wrong. The sounds around me were still muffled. No one was talking but there was an annoying beep. I felt exhausted, that was what registered the most. I huffed and gave over to the exhaustion, losing all sense of what was happening around me; of what I could and couldn’t do. 

*************

James had all intentions of stopping in the office and talking with House. Everyone had noticed the man cooped up more than usual in his office. His reaction to his particular case was unusual, even by House standards. There was a different level of grumpiness to the man and he was all but sleeping in his office. Which was how he found the man in question when he stopped in front of the door. He thought he was asleep; feet propped up and his head tipped back. Wilson spotted his lips moving despite his position. it was as simple as he was thinking about his current case.

Wilson stepped into the office, his first instinct proven right. House was, in fact, asleep. He crossed his arms over his chest as he observed his friend. Wilson wondered if it was worth waking him up or letting him get the rest that he likely needed. 

His answer became clear to him when he heard the woman’s name mumbled. That had to be a first. House dreaming of a woman? The name repeated itself and he was quick to realize that it was the name of his current patient. That was something that he had to figure out. 

Wilson slammed down one of the books that was on the desk and House jolted awake. Wilson wanted to tease the man. It wasn’t often that he got the opportunity but he wanted to know more about what was happening. That overrode his desire to tease the man. 

“I hear that you have a new case.”

“We already ruled out your specialty sorry. I didn’t know you were going around poaching cases now. Is it getting that slow in oncology?” House cocked his head to the side and pulled his feet off of his desk.

“Yes, because I desperately want my department to be busy. I wish it was overflowing with people who I get to tell they are dying.”

“You said it, not me.” Under normal circumstances, Wilson would have been a bit exasperated by the comment. This was not one of those times and he let it roll right off of his back. 

“You were dreaming about the patient.” Wilson pointed out, able to keep a smile off of his face by the skin of his teeth. House was obsessive yes but not that sort of obsessive. He didn’t dream about his patients.

“I was dreaming about closing the case. There’s a difference. Or do I need to disclose all my dreams to you now Mum?” 

“You said her name.” Wilson pointed out. “You never know a patient’s name. And you’ve been in her room. Without her being awake.” If it wasn’t relevant in a medical sense, House didn’t bother learning it. He was sure that the man wouldn’t know if his patient was male or female if it didn’t affect the possibility of a diagnosis. He rarely, if ever saw patients either. That was a big deal. 

“I needed to do an exam myself.” It was a bullshit excuse and at that moment, they both knew it. James knew better than to push his friend though. If he wanted to get this figured out, he couldn’t have the man completely closing off. It was a tendency he had when things got a little too personal. House didn’t ever, ever bother respecting personal boundaries. This was going to be the one time that James paid his friend back with a taste of his own medicine. He was going to figure this out one way or another. 

*************

There were people around me. The words this time came much more clear than they had the previous times I had woken up. Several voices all spoke though I couldn’t make out what they were saying exactly. I opened my eyes and it took several long seconds for the people to come into focus. One was at my arm, drawing some blood. Another was standing looking at a vitals screen. The third had a chart in hand. They were talking to one another, not realizing I was awake yet. That was until the person at the monitor turned and saw me. 

“We weren’t sure you were ever going to wake up.” A light shone in my eye without warning. “How are you feeling?” 

“Give her a second to breathe.” The female was the one that spoke. I looked towards her and then the other man at my side. Not that I could move my head all that much. I realized that I was stuck in a collar. It wasn’t comfortable in the least. He didn’t say anything right away but smiled at me. 

“Feel like shit,” I mumbled, trying to catch up to what was happening. I didn’t know how I ended up in the hospital. The last thing that I remembered was being on the highway, heading towards New York. “What happened?” I didn’t care who answered me, all I wanted some answers.

“The rest of you, out.” That was a familiar voice. It wasn’t like I could forget the one that I had spent the better part of my first twenty-four years on this Earth with. Of all the hospitals I could be at, it had to be Princeton-Plainsboro. We may not have talked in almost twenty-one years but I had kept up with his doings. He was a top diagnostician, something that hadn’t come as a surprise. He had needed to finish med school in the formal sense the last time we saw or spoke to one another. 

“But…” All three wanted to argue with him on that front, though none of them seemed all too willing to take on the man.

“Out.” I risked looking towards one Gregory House. The cane and the limp were new. The drawn, weary, pained face was out of place on his face. Both made up a different man standing in front of me than the one I had known. He had aged well. That much I could say. I had thought about the possibility of meeting him again. Though I never imagined that it would be under these sorts of circumstances. Everything that I had come up with faded on the tip of my tongue. All those things that I had wanted to say after he had upped and left vanished. He had demanded that I leave his life but he had made the decision for me.  

He moved over to the edge of the bed, not saying a damn thing to help move this along. It felt uncomfortable though what more could be expected? He was the one who had upped and left. He didn’t want me around when I had been ready to follow him wherever. Like I always had. It was a pathetic thought and one that I hadn’t grown out of despite the therapy. 

“Your kidneys are failing.” Right down to business. 

“That still doesn’t explain how I ended up here in the first place.” 

“You’re also anemic.” I wasn’t going to get the answers that I wanted out of him so I was going to have to wait and play his game. He wasn’t going to acknowledge that he knew me, he wasn’t even looking at me. I didn’t understand why he had asked the other doctors to leave the room. He was going to pretend that I was another patient. There was nothing for him to hide and if he didn't want to say anything then I wouldn't. I couldn’t push him for it since it would only make him shut down ten times faster. House worked at his own pace and everyone else around him needed to be able to adapt to it. If they didn't, they ended up left behind in the dust. 

I waited, quiet, for him to continue with whatever else he wanted to tell me. There was more there. 

“And with a fever, none of that makes sense with a car wreck.” He finally looked up at me, leaning with a heavy stance on the cane, tipped to a hint to his right. There was my answer and it made sense given the last thing that I remembered. “So, the question is why.” He was asking me like I knew the answer to that. He was the one that had taken an interest in medicine. I was the one who loved history. He moved to the side of the bed, allowing me to track him with my eyes. It was a weird sensation, not being able to move the neck.

It was that moment that I tried to move my arms and legs but found that I still couldn’t. 

“That should wear off in another few days.” He said as he poked at my arm. I could feel that at least. “At least in your upper half. There’s no real telling what will happen with your legs.” He was never one to pull punches. Others would have panicked about it and lashed out at him. I panicked but was grateful to know the sort of road of recovery that I was looking at. I could digest the information later and mourn for whatever I had to when I was on my own. I wasn’t about to cry in front of the man. 

“I take it you’re asking why because nothing has come back conclusive?” He was silent as his eyes moved over me again. I could see that I was right though, there was no denying the twitch of his lips. “But everyone lies so it’s not like you can trust anything I have to say.” Maybe it was a subtle dig at the man, one that he wasn’t going to overlook. I knew that it had to be the last one that I threw at him.

“What are the differential diagnoses?” 

“Cut them in half. Stopped the antibiotics and you aren’t getting any better. There wasn’t a hint of cancer anywhere on your scans. We were waiting to see if you took any medications but even if you did, you have been here well over a week. Anything that you take would be out of your system by now.” He wasn’t answering me about what he thought it was. Having cancer ruled out was at least reassuring. Not like I wanted to go through with that again. 

“Done the cancer thing once. Nice to hear that I don’t have to do it again.” 

“What?”

“Leukemia. About ten years ago.” I offered without needing him to prompt further. “Had about six months worth of radiation. A year's worth of other treatments after before they found a matching donor. Been fine since the bone marrow transplant.” He frowned and the wheels in his head were turning like that. It was as simple as a snap of the fingers. 

“Should be on the bracelet that I wear.”

“You didn’t come in wearing any jewelry.”

“There’s a card in my wallet too.” 

“Destroyed in the wreck, so they said.” That was sort of crucial information for any doctor to know. It was why I tried to make sure that it was available in as many different forms as possible. The bracelet must have broken off in the crash. I couldn’t do much anything about a wallet ending up destroyed in a wreck. There was no point in hiding or lying about any of that. It would be necessary if he was going to figure out what the hell was going on with me. 

“Bone marrow transplant…” He muttered before leaving the room without another word. Judging by the look on his face before he left, it was enough information to trigger whatever was happening in his brain. That was good enough for me. I wasn’t sure if I would see him again.

[scribeofmorpheus]

Counterpart [4/5]

Pairing: Bucky x Reader x Framework!Steve

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Words: 5k

A/N: When Nat went underground, instead of dying her hair blonde like in IW, she dyed it black. I had fun with the idea of Nat and Pietro and Bucky forming this unconventional family of sorts, and I loved playing with the idea that Sam and Carol were old friends in the framework, though tbh, I don’t really know where her framework arc might lead. I will have to do a second pass proofread but anyway...

Note: There’s a Framework centric spin-off in the WIP tank!

Warnings: This chapter contains depictions and mentions of alcoholism, language, violence, etc. It’s a dark series, expect a darker take.

CHAPTER FOUR: TWO HALVES

~Canada, The Refuge

The sound of birds chirping outside his window stirred him from his slumber. Bucky was still groggy from sleep, rubbing the remnants of unconsciousness from his eyes with the pads of his flesh fingers. He yawned awake, sitting up from under the covers of the double bed. Glancing at the clock, he noted it was 6 am.

"72 hours," he reminded himself as got up from the bed and walked to the closet, a watch materialising on his wrist, a timer counting down.

"Thanks, Friday," he looked to the ceiling.

There was no reply. Only the sound of wind rustling through the blinds.

While digging through the closet, he was surprised to find several women's clothes hanging next to his. Choosing to ignore that red flag, he reached for a long-sleeved shirt on the rack and noticed his metal arm was a different colour than the usual chrome-blue and gold. This one was red, white and blue.

Cap's colours, he internally pointed out.

A canary emblem in place of the Russian star he had once sported.

"What the?" He glanced at the etched bird using the door fitted mirror beside him. When his eyes looked up to inspect his face, he was greeted by a head of short hair, shaven at the sides. He would have looked military if not for his medium length stubble. He ran a hand through his spikey hair, the brush of it against the metal feeling unfamiliar, "Is this pomade?"

As soon as his hand fell from the trailed paths his fingers had parted through his styled hair, a woman's voice spoke out dotingly, "Morning, Soldat."

The woman's Russian accent was faded but present, she sounded almost like...

"Nat?" Bucky swung around.

She tilted her head to the side. Her hair was longer, darker, a charcoal blackness that absorbed the light. Her face marked by an imposing lateral scar running across the length it, partially healed like a botched brazing job. She looked different but it was indeed her.

"Nat?" She laughed awkwardly. "Not Talia?" She shrugged as she walked over. "Semantics." Her gaze running across his exposed chest with shameless desire.

"Ugh, Nat- Talia, what are you?" Bucky tried to use the closet door to hide his body.

Natasha laughed again as though he were being silly, "You're acting weird this morning. When you're done being all modest, come down to the kitchen so we can start making breakfast for the kids."

Bucky's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, "Kids?"

It was then that he noticed the couple’s photo of him and Nat on the nightstand, coupled with Nat's flirty behaviour, the double bed and the shared closet, everything finally made sense. And now his stomach was doing summersaults.

"Kids?" Bucky said again as he stared at Natasha with his mouth agape. "Nat… Uhh, Talia."

"You can call me Nat if it's suddenly easier for you, liybimaya."

Bucky's neck reclined back as if those words had slapped him, "My love...?"

"Yes?"

"What is- Never mind… Um, do you know how to get in contact with Shield?"

"James, I thought we agreed to let that go. We have enough responsibilities with the kids as it is." Natasha pointed to the portrait style picture hung up on the wall.

Bucky peered at the sixteen by twenty inch photograph. In the forefront was a group of kids of all shapes and sizes, seated on two rows of benches, wearing clashing colours and sporting wide grins as they looked out at the camera. Natasha, Pietro, Bucky and a scary, muscly woman stood behind them. Pietro had thrown up an 'L' sign behind the other Bucky's face, his cheek lines prominent in an obvious laughing position while Natasha had pressed her face between two young children, one of them sticking out their tongue playfully.

Underneath the portrait was an engraving on a brass plate: Second Chance, Home for the Displaced Children of Sokovia, 2017.

"Oh, those kids," Bucky sighed inaudibly, relief hitting him like a wave of ice-water. When he turned back to answer the raven-haired woman blinking rapidly his way, he almost felt sorry for her. Even if she wasn't real to him, she was very much real in her own right, and this very real person had just lost the man she shared a life with. What was worse was that she didn't realise it yet.

"Right, of course, how silly of me to forget about that." Bucky's lips wound up in a corkscrew motion as he pulled his shirt over his head. "Okay, then do you know how to get in contact with Fury?"

"What is a 'Fury'?"

Bucky's eyes rolled in the back of his head, "A figment of my imagination apparently. How about Sam Wilson?"

"Sam… Wilson?" Her lips upturned in a half-moon. "Is he someone from your Shield days? The name is familiar…"

"Uhh, yeah, something like that."

Natasha frowned, "What's really going on with you? You're acting strange this morning. This isn't because of the news last night is it?"

"News?"

"That Hydra captured the Iron-Maiden?” Natasha patted his chest. “Pepper is stubborn, she won't talk, you can relax. We're safe as houses as long as we stay across the border." She left the bedroom as Bucky pulled on his jeans.

Jogging after her, he spotted another framed photograph of a younger version of him shaking hands with someone who looked presidential hanging on the Livingroom walls.

"Hurry up Soldat, these potatoes won't peel themselves."

"I'll be right there Na- Talia!" Bucky searched the large living space for a computer or electronic device, he needed to get familiar with this world before he could make any efforts to find Y/N.

After he had moved some couch cushions and disorganised several drawers, Natasha came back into the room, peeling knife in hand.

"James? What are you looking for?"

"The… remote?" His voice went squeaky. “I wanted to check the news updates.”

Natasha brushed the edges of her fringe away from her eyes as she blinked rapidly again, "James the kids lost that days ago. We sent Pietro to buy a new one while on his supply run." She peered at him, folding her arms defensively. "Are you sure everything is fine?"

Bucky exhaled, moving closer to Natasha so he could look her earnestly in the eye, "No, it's not."

Her mouth fell, "What's the matter, liybimaya?"

Bucky glowered briefly, "A friend of mine is in danger, a Shield agent. I need to help her before it's too late, but to do that I need to find her. Sam Wilson was… her contact. If I find him, I can find her."

"You've never mentioned this before..." Natasha rubbed his metal arm with her free hand. "The tablet is in the bedroom, you can search about your friend."

"Thank you!" Bucky buzzed with energy, teetering in front of Natasha indecisively, unsure of what their dynamic was. He settled for kissing her on the forehead, awkwardly.

"You're… welcome…?" She watched him jog back into their shared bedroom, her fingers spinning the peeling knife with great skill.

Bucky fished out the tablet, dismayed to find it password protected, "Shit!" He leaned his head in his hand as he thought of possible password combinations. "Okay, let's try my birthday."

The screen remained locked, a message notifying him he had two more chances.

"Damn it! If I'm with Shield in this universe, maybe I just got the format wrong..."

Bucky typed his birthday in the American format.

The screen was still locked.

"It can't be Y/N's birthday because this world's Bucky probably never met her…" Bucky drummed his fingers against his temple, his eyes widening when he punched in another set of numbers.

The screen unlocked.

"Curious..." Bucky thought out loud before opening up a search engine.

When he searched for the name: Y/N Y/L/N, he was perplexed when nothing came up, instead, there was a small 'i' icon at the edge of the screen that suggested: "Did you mean Y/N Rogers?"

Bucky pressed his lips into a white slash, his neck turning stiff as his finger hesitated above the red highlighted words. After taking a moment to gather himself, Bucky's metal finger tapped on the link swiftly, the metal colliding with the glass harder than he intended.

A news headline popped up and Bucky read the words, keeping pace with the speed of the scrolling script, "Android Ensures New Yorkers Sleep Safer. Hydra's top of the line security android, Spectre, successfully apprehended and pacified the Iron Maiden's (Virginia 'Pepper' Potts) terrorist cell with record low losses. Steve Rogers and his team (comprising of veteran Hydra officers Clint Barton and Y/N Rogers) were present at the sight, providing ground support and med-evac assistance. This signifies a new milestone in overseeing Director Alexander Pierce's vision for a safer, brighter world under Hydra's protective governance.”

Bucky's molars strained from the stress of his compressed jaw, memories of Alexander Pierce and the mind splitting brain-washing sessions made his blood boil. Shaking his head, which felt odd considering his hair didn't sway into his eyes, Bucky continued scrolling through other articles.

"Power couple of the century?" he retorted sarcastically as the picture of Steve and Y/N dressed in wedding attire mocked him. Their happy faces a punch to the gut. How could he feel jealous, angry and mournful at both his best friend and his girlfriend all at once?

Bucky's metal arm propelled the tablet like a boomerang at the wall, only it never reached it.

"I leave for two days and you return to your old brooding self, smashing furniture like we can afford it?" Pietro tossed the tablet in the air with a boyish grin on his face. "Come, friend, you better not let Talia see those tight eyebrows, huh." He flashed over to the dresser and back, tablet no longer in his hand as he patted Bucky on the back. "We can't keep reminding you that it's not your fault Steve was awoken by the tentacle crazies. What could you do, huh? You were a popsicle stick for almost a hundred years. A hundred years!"

Bucky felt his anger lose its hold on him, for a moment he had forgotten everything he was feeling and seeing wasn't real. Somehow having Pietro sit beside him, treating him like a friend, made that all clear again because Bucky had never met Pietro, he had only ever seen pictures of him hanging in Wanda's room, his very presence was the stark jolt of surrealism he needed to remind himself of why he was here.

"You're right," Bucky said as he rose from the bed and retrieved the tablet.

"Oh, hey, hey, hey now," Pietro held his palms up at Bucky. "You aren't planning to-" he made a throwing gesture at the wall.

Bucky's cheek lifted up as he returned a calming half-smile, "Don't worry, I'm not going to throw anymore furniture."

Pietro let out a shaky laugh, hands placed on his hips as his cheeks inflated from a deep exhale, "Good, because I broke the other one and we don't want to see Talia get mad again."

"Err, right. That would be…" Bucky pressed the 'e' at the end of his sentence as Pietro looked on with buggy eyes. "…Bad?"

Pietro nodded in agreement.

"Oh, did you remember to get the replacement remote?" Bucky asked as he typed in Sam's name into the search engine.

Pietro smacked his thigh with the underside of his hand, "I knew I forgot something. Don't tell Talia I was here, I'll go pick it up right now."

Pietro flashed out of the space in a fraction of a second, residual wind from his velocity drying out Bucky's eyeballs.

"Jesus," Bucky whispered when he read the information packet on Sam.

 ~Sam's Homestead, Missouri

Sam was rudely awoken by his loud alarm clock that sounded more like a fire alarm than a soothing melody. He smashed the digital clock as he fumbled with his sheets. His breath tasted of something foul, like stagnant bile, and his head pounded like a marching band had just traipsed across his synapses, a throbbing sensation pulsing at his temples.

When his eyes finally opened he was horrified by the disastrous state of his avatar's home. Clothes were piled on the floor, blinds shut, several cans and bottles littering the space, filling the air with a stale rancid smell of sweat, malt and sick.

He glanced down at his vest and noticed the vomit stains, "Jesus Christ."

Sam groaned as he motioned to sit up from the bed. However, with his balance out of whack, he tumbled onto the floor, face-first into a pile of unwashed slacks that made him retch.

"What the fuck?" He looked down at his feet and noticed he only had the one leg. The other was amputated at the knee leaving behind a mangled scar and a phantom pain that his conscious mind refused to reconcile since the real version of him still had control of both his legs, submerged in a tank underwater. "I didn't see this comin’."

Sam rolled his eyes as he hoisted himself back onto the bed and looked around for a pair of crutches, reaching under the bed instinctively, he was pleasantly amazed to find them there. "Let’s try this again."

He picked himself up on one leg, hobbling about on his crutches that got tangled with all the clutter on his way out of the room.

"Hello?" Sam called out into the dusty, humid house but there was no reply, only dead silence and the grinding of a fan in need of oiling. "Man, this is turning out to be one hell of a bad day."

A stopwatch manifested on his wrist, the hours counting down. Sam pulled his head back, eyes searching for some kind of sign in place of the water-stained ceiling, "Friday, I need to get in touch with Bucky, know how I can do that?"

Silence.

"Yeah, figures."

When he got to the kitchen he saw a note scribbled on a piece of stationery: 'There's some clean laundry in the dryer. I restocked your fridge. Remember: one day at a time. S.'

"S? Who the hell is S?" He complained, turning on his three legs to get a feel for the room. A wistful sigh filling the emptiness.

A gurgling noise rumbled from his stomach, the headache that most likely succeeded his avatar's heavy night of drinking was undoubtedly the cause. Sam tried to clear his throat and rid the taste of fermented wheat from his tongue and teeth, but it didn't help much, It only made him realise how desperate he was for a good shower and a bottle of mouthwash.

He set the rusty coffee pot to brew, deciding the metal tang it would adopt would only be a trick of the senses and hopefully not carry any lasting side effects. He cracked open a window, letting the smell of conifers and rain unclog his sinuses. He then clomped his way down to the bathroom and ran himself a bath after he figured showering would be more of a challenge given his new-old condition.

It bothered him more that he could still feel his leg. It was so surreal to look down and see it gone every time. The irritation digging into his under-arms from the crutches was a psychological reminder of the harsh reality he was about to be subjected to in this world.

After brushing his teeth and changing into new clothes, which required some tactful manoeuvring, Sam looked around for any electronic device that connected to the internet.

"Bingo!" He cheered as he saw a tablet stuffed between two couch cushions. There was no password protection on the device. "Gee, I guess I got nothin' to hide huh? Well if that's the case..." Sam typed his name into the search engine and regretted it immediately after he read the first few headlines: 'Reckless Pilot Destroys Multi-Million Dollar Flight Suit; Drunk, Dishonourably Discharged; Sam Wilson's Vet Clinic Foreclosure; Disgraced Pilot Flees to the Hills.'

"Well, this is depressing," Sam threw the tablet on the couch, opting to switch on the news channel instead. As he rifled through the strange house, the news reporter filled him in on whatever passed for news in this new, frightening world.

"Eyewitnesses report of seeing a strange blue and white streak making its way across Europe earlier this week. Hydra enforcements remind all citizens to call the subservient prevention hotline if they see any person or persons acting suspiciously," the reporter said.

Sam guffawed as he flipped through old photo albums, "Oh yeah, scare the little guy into giving up his neighbour… real patriotic."

"In other news, Hydra's defence android, dubbed Spectre by the head office, has successfully led a charge to apprehend and pacify the Iron Maiden's terrorist cell earlier this week. Citizens of New York can sleep safer knowing that this menace has been brought to justice and is expected to fill out her life sentence behind bars at the Hydra supermax prison."

Withholding the urge to spit, Sam clamped down on his crutches and stomped to the kitchen to grab that cup of coffee.

The reporter continued her deep-dive, "And now, politics. Hell's Kitchen boasts another prosperous year under the leadership of Mayor Fisk. Following recent events concerning the escape of the Punisher, former military specials unit Captain Billy Russo, local citizens have demonstrated their support for the mayor's proposed anti-vigilante task force by taking to the streets in protest against the rising number of subservients. Opposing mayoral candidate, Congressman Murdock, warns voters to not be so hasty with their vote as he fears the new proposed task force may cause an increase in police unemployment rates."

Sam switched the TV off, his frustration causing him to toss the remote callously onto the couch, where it bounced and smashed onto the floor, batteries popping out of the casing and rolling under the couch.

Not without difficulty, Sam got on his one knee, his stump waving in the air without a place to perch, and extended his arm under the sofa, patting down to try and feel for the cylindrical batteries. An odd film textured object slid across his calloused pads as he patted down on the floorboards.

With an interested drone, Sam fished out the glossy paper and fell back on his ass so he could observe it properly. It was a photograph of him with someone who looked like an aged Carol Danvers. She was wearing a green flight suit, hiding her crow’s-feet behind blue-tinted aviators. Standing beside her was a grey-haired Peggy Carter in a wheelchair held in place by Sharon – sunlight flares blurring her smile. The air force logo was stuck to the side of a jet in the background, his old nickname 'Snap Wilson' spray-painted on it.

Sam Flipped the photograph around to skim read the fine, cursive inscription: ‘Congrats on moving up, Snap. You'll be missed by the grunts at the bottom. Leave some target practice for us. And remember: one day at a time. C & S.’

"Well, I'll be damned. Hello, S..." Sam's nail scratched at a smudge on the corner of the photograph, it looked almost like a watermark stamp of the letter L. "What is--"

A shrill ringing sound came from his landline. He swivelled his head from side to side trying to spot the annoying thing. It was hiding under a stack of old newspapers that needed to be put in the recycling.

"He- Shit!" He almost tumbled on one leg. "Hello?"

"Sam? It's Bucky..."

***

Bucky shoved whatever useful supplies he could find lying about into a small backpack before slinging it over his shoulders and clipping it at the front of his chest -an old habit as it were.

Natasha walked in on him circling blind spots on a map with a marker, his face conveying devastation as if she'd just caught him in bed with another woman.

When Bucky didn't say anything, Natasha pointed to the training equipment peeking out from under her bed –their bed. "Training sessions. I forgot my knee pads." She picked them up, dusting them down. "You're leaving, aren't you?" Her tone was sad yet insightful.

Bucky was growing increasingly agitated as the seconds continued to count down on his watch, "I need to head over there!"

"James, stop! Last time you were on Hydra's radar that damned psychopath tore your arm off!"

He folded the map into his back pocket, "Stark?"

She threw her hands in the air, "No, Stark is the only reason you were fitted with a replacement! I'm talking about that monster that Hydra fished out of the ocean."

"Steve?" His tone went dark.

"Did you hit your head when you were chopping firewood yesterday? Yes, Steve. Of course, Steve!" Natasha smacked the side of his head with the knee pads.

Bucky strode past her, "You don't have to shout."

"Then stop acting like you were born yesterday!"

One of the foster kids witnessed their shouting and was ushered into another room by a worried-looking Pietro. Natasha swore in Russian before slamming their bedroom door shut, trapping Bucky inside with her.

He took her hands in his, "Look, I know I don't seem myself, but I have to get to New York. It's important. There's someone I swore to protect, no matter what and she's in danger now. I know you still care about the world, Na- Talia. These kids you're helping are evidence enough. Help me do this one thing and I promise everything will go back to normal."

Natasha sighed, "I haven't seen that look in your eye in a long time. Whoever it is must be important."

"More than you know."

"Where is she... your friend?"

"With Hydra. In New York."

"A prisoner?"

"Of sorts."

"New York huh?" Her eyes steeled with venomous conviction, her fingers twitching around the air between her fingertips and her scar. "I can think of a reason or two to tag along."

"No, I can't ask you to come with me, it's too dangerous, and the kids need you."

"You need me, liybimaya. It's like I told you all those years ago, the only thing powerful enough to separate us is death…" Her hand fell on his jaw, eyes searching his for something he couldn't give. "And even then, it wouldn't be enough."

Bucky sighed, finding himself instinctively leaning into her touch, "Okay, you win. But we have to stop somewhere first."

"Dge, Soldat?" her Russian trickled out.

"Missouri."

 ***

Knock. Knock. Knock

"I'm goin' as fast as I can, god damn!" Sam chewed his bottom lip as he clomped his way to the door.

Just as he was about to twist the doorknob, the door burst open and a supersonic boom shook the keys on the wall. A blue and silver streak whizzed past Sam's peripheral. Turning, he was pleasantly surprised to find Pietro eating a packet of crisps that he stole from the kitchen cupboard, feet kicked up as he surfed the channels. “Damn, that’s one fast kid. Like a friggin’ silver bullet.”

"Forgive him," Natasha urged. "Our TV hasn't been functional beyond the weather channel for days, he's forgotten his manners." She extended her hand, "Name's Natalia Romanova."

“Nat…” Sam's mouth remained open for a moment too long and her eyebrows rose up. Gathering his jaw off the ground, he clasped her hand with a loud smacking sound before nearly barking out his reply through a wide grin, "Sam Wilson. Pleasure to meet you."

"Samuel Wilson! I knew that name was familiar. You’re the pilot who crashed the prototype--" Natasha stopped herself mid-sentence.

Sam shrugged, "The very same apparently." He moved to the side to let her in.

Once in the kitchen, he noticed Bucky hadn't stopped staring at his leg, or rather the absence of it. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." He glowered. "If you thought your day was weird, mine was definitely worse."

"I can see that," Bucky cocked his head to the side.

“Coffee? I’m pretty sure it’ll give you tetanus from the rust but…”

“No, thanks.”

 Bucky laid out the map from earlier on the kitchen table, his mind obsessing over his attack plan. Sam kept leaning over every now and again to catch a glimpse of Natasha and Pietro looking very much alive and real in the next room.

Curiosity got the better of him, "What's up with you and Nat?" 

"It's Talia over here," Bucky's eyes remained glued to the blueprints. "And apparently we're together and I go by James."

"No shit?" Sam's tone took on a higher pitch, hands tucked under his pits. "I'm an alcoholic who lost a leg and you get paired up with Nat. Yeah, that's very fair," he grumbled sarcastically.

"Sam..."

"I know, I know, I'm focusing on the wrong thing. It's just I'm a little mad is all."

Bucky stopped hunkering over the table as he looked at Natasha and Pietro with an almost-longing stare, "It's weird, you know. The other Bucky has this full life here. He smiles in all his photographs, he wasn't brainwashed by Hydra. Hell, he's even raising kids with Talia and is like an older brother to Pietro. Despite how fucked up things are over here, his life seems fuller. He seems… better."

Bucky shook the thoughts from his head, dropping the permanent marker on the table, watching it roll without making an effort to stop it.

"Speak for yourself," Sam told him off. "This side's Sam is a mess. I practically woke up in my own vomit this morning."

"Jesus," was all Bucky gave him.

"Hang on, did you say you and Nat are raising kids together?"

"Mmm-hmm. We run a kids shelter in Canada. I train them in self-defence on Wednesdays and Fridays, and History and English every other weekday."

Sam laughed, using his crutch to poke Bucky's side, "Well, shit. Look at you. Mr Professor Barnes."

Pietro's pure laughter rippled out from the other room as he watched cartoons going about their usual tomfoolery. Something kept gnawing at Bucky's stomach, making him feel uneasy.

Sam scratched his cheek, "You alright there, Tin-can?"

"During the car ride over here, Talia kept reminiscing about our third year anniversary and how we spend a week on a luxury cruise aboard a blip –for some reason, they're the more acceptable form of travel here."

"I mean, it's not such a bad idea. Reduced carbon emissions-"

"That's what you're focusing on? Blips are filled with hydrogen. They explode!"

"Excuse me for finding a bright side in all this. In case you hadn't noticed, there's not much of that going around." Sam tapped on his leg, his eyes narrowing at Bucky.

“Christ on a cracker, must I spell it out?”

“Spell what out?”

“Three-year-anniversary,” Bucky waited for Sam to catch on.

“Oh Shit! Did you two…” He walked closer to Bucky to whisper-hum the wedding march.

Bucky groaned, “I don’t know. Maybe. It’s not exactly the easiest thing to bring up in polite conversation, besides she already suspects something is off with me… him… us? Whatever, you know what I mean.”

Sam chuckled, “Huh… that’s kinda ironic. You spent so long being afraid to propose to the girl you love, even though you have everything –security, shelter –and yet somehow, the guy with more to lose, is the one who was least afraid of being with the woman he loved.” He said, glancing over at Natasha.

As if on cue, the dark haired woman rose from the couch, a piqued expression taking over her features. “Okay, James. Enough with the whispering and the side-ways glances. I think I’ve given you two enough time to catch up. Now… what’s the plan?”

“Well…” Bucky tapped his metal finger on the red circled dot and delved into the details of his rescue plans.

“That won’t work,” Natasha said bluntly once he was done. “The only way you get into Hydra alive is if they bring you in.”

“Are you suggesting…?” Sam’s eyes widened.

“Yup.”

Pietro whooshed in from the couch, licking the crumbs from his fingers. “If we’re going after Hydra, we’ll need backup.”

“I agree,” Natasha replied as she pulled out her phone to dial a number.

“I don’t think the bol'shaya zhenshchina will be enough. I have a favour I can call in. Don’t wait for me.” Pietro added before zooming out of the house.

 ~Hydra HQ, NY

You marched into the interrogation room, the sound of muffled steel punches landing on a human jaw made you flinch. The doors opened automatically and a large molar flew across the room, knocked loose from the mystery man’s mouth. He laughed, staring down his interrogator with such conviction it made your skin erupt in goosebumps.

“Leave us,” you told the man wearing the knuckle duster.

He nodded curtly before spitting, “Terrorist scum!”

You dragged over a chair and sat on it, arms resting on the back support. “So, they tell me you got caught trying to cross the border patrols. Not very smart.”

“Oh, I don’t know, as plans go…” the man lifted his head so his striking blue eyes pierced through you, a satisfied smirk ghosting over his lips when he noticed you physically shudder. “It wasn’t so bad. After all, it brought me to you, didn’t it?”

Instantly, a migraine hammered against your cranium with the highest intensity yet, something about his presence, his voice, his eyes, undid every fibre of your being until all you felt was nausea bubbling up to the surface. You gripped the chair to steady yourself but the longer he stared at you, the worse everything got. You felt like you were being torn apart at the seams. In desperation, you hurried out of the room and raced towards a potted plant so you could relieve your stomach of its contents –though there wasn’t much left to throw up.

“Babe, are you alright?” Steve’s hand rubbed at your back as he kneeled next to you.

You huffed lifelessly, wiping the residue of puke from your mouth with your sleeve. Your chin quivered violently forcing your teeth to chatter. The sickly miasma of ozone clung to your nostrils as ghosts from another life encroached around you, and visible only to you from the fact that Steve wasn’t distressed in the least to see a very alive and well Wanda Maximoff laughing by a window -sunlight like fire on her red hair. Through the windows reflective surface, you saw him again, the ghost from the apartment and suddenly, you understood why the man in the interrogation room had shaken you to your core. It was him… the ghost, only he wasn’t a figment of your imagination. He was real too.

You grabbed onto Steve’s arms like they were the only thing keeping you from downing. “I think I’m losing my mind…”

Chapter Four: The Choice

AFWHI tags: @fangirl-colo @dormousse @smallmarvel @ren-ni @sargentbucket @nikolett3 @wnygirl2012 @jentismyname @evilgeniuslabz-blog @myrabbitholetoneverland @sleepingspacedragon @500daysofbecky @reidreader  

Permatags: @gruffle1 @thechickvic @notawarriorjustyet @savethehoneeybees

tags: @ladybugsfanfics 

[charity-h-burbage]

Merry Christmas!!!

I hope you’re all having a lovely Christmas season! I’m super super excited to share my Secret Santa gift for this year!!!!!

Since I’m terrible at art and all other things at all times forever, I chose once again to compile a playlist dedicated to and inspired by the character played by my Secret Santa giftee -- our darling Lily, and the bewitching Narcissa Malfoy ( @forever-toujourspur ), who is one of my favorite characters both in the books and here in the RP. I’ll link it right here!

In addition to just the link, I’m also adding below a list of the songs and a short description of why I chose that song, whether it be the vibe, specific lyrics, whether that song makes me think of an event in Narcissa’s life, whatever it was that made me pick it. (I say a short description -- I really tried to make them short and I apologize for them Not Being That lol) I hope you enjoy the songs I picked, and have an amazing Christmas!!

Control - Hasley: “I’m bigger than my body, I’m colder than this home / I’m meaner than my demons, I’m bigger than these bones. . . Who is in control?” This song just has a Narcissa kind of vibe for me, and the lyrics make me think of her being so amazing and in control in spite of the well-documented “Black family madness”

you should see me in a crown - Billie Eilish: “You should see me in a crown / Your silence is my favorite sound / Watch me make ‘em bow / One by one” Again, just her being the absolute queen of everything. That’s a recurring theme so get ready lmao

I Don’t Care - Fall Out Boy: “I don’t care what you think as long as it’s about me” That’s it. That’s the whole reason. I always think of her as someone who truly doesn’t care what gossip there is about her, because if she’s being talked about then she’s already won.

The Ballad of Mona Lisa - Panic! At the Disco: “You’re guaranteed to run this town. . . I’d pay to see you frown” This one just has kind of a Narcissa feel to me. And once again, there’s that HBIC theme. She’s the one taking charge and keeping control of everything with a smile on her face, no matter how bad she actually feels.

The Way You Look Tonight - Michael Buble: “You’re lovely, with your smile so warm / And your cheeks so soft / There is nothing but for me to love you / And the way you look tonight” This one makes me think of her relationship with Lucius. I always think of them as being truly in love and this seems like a song that would fit the tone of their relationship to me.

Young and Beautiful - Lana Del Ray: “Dear lord, when I get to heaven / Please let me bring my man / When he comes, tell me that you’ll let him in. . . . Will you still love me / When I’m no longer young and beautiful?. . . I know that you will” Another about their relationship, but how strong it is, how their love will last forever and she wants to be with him even after they’ve died. *cue sigh*

Hold Me Down - Halsey: “I sold my soul to a three-piece / And he told me I was holy. . . Saying that I want more, this is what I live for” This one feels to me like her feelings when Lucius joins Voldemort and gets her involved. She sold her soul to these well-dressed men, and she’s held up as an ideal, but it’s more like she was thrown into the deep end and now she’s trying to figure out how to navigate it while staying the strong woman we know and love.

Believer - Imagine Dragons: “Don’t you tell me what you think that I can be / I’m the one at the sail, I’m the master of my sea. . . My life, my love, my drive, it came from pain. . . you made me a believer” This is more HBIC energy for me tbh, taking all the things that have happened to her over the course of her life, all the pain and nonsense, and taking control of it and doing everything she can for the people she loves.

Fake Happy - Paramore: “I been doing a good job of making ‘em think / I’m quite alright / But I hope I don’t blink. . .Please don’t ask me how I’ve been / Don’t make me play pretend. . . I bet everybody here is fake happy too” After Lucius goes to Azkaban, of course way WAY down the road, I imagine she would’ve been devastated, but has to keep her spirits up and pretend everything is okay so she doesn’t break down. So this song feels like that to me, her ability to keep everything she’s actually feeling under that carefully crafted mask and only show what she wants people to see.

Stand By Me - Florence + The Machine: There aren’t any specific lyrics with this one, the whole vibe of this version just makes me think of Narcissa. It’s very pretty and flowy and feminine, but with an undercurrent of strength, and just a little bit of a cool, melancholic sound? It’s possible that I’m crazy but I just think of her when I’m listening to it lol. To me it feels like a song that she personally would like. And then the song itself, of course, could also just be one long testament to her willingness to stand by Lucius through anything.

Cry Baby - American Avenue: “They call you cry baby, cry baby / But you don’t f***ing care / Cry baby, cry baby / So you laugh through your tears” This is another one that I feel like describes her being able to hide her emotions, but more about how she got to that point -- like maybe Bellatrix would be mean to her when she cried as a little kid, so she learned to laugh through the tears. Whatever it was, just learning how to control her emotions. This version also has a really fierce vibe that I just love for her.

If - House of Heroes: “I could be in love if you wore that dress every day / With your hair just so and your eyes of grey” This one feels like just one big love letter from Lucius to Narcissa. It’s got this whole vibe of the woman being beautiful, and a little bit scary, and a little bit unattainable, that just feels very Narcissa to me.

Take Me To Church - Hozier: “Take me to church / I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies / I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife” This one also feels like Lucius just worshipping Narcissa and how much of a goddess she is. She’s dangerous and powerful and so very Slytherin and he’s just head over heels, you know?

Sweet Dreams - Emily Browning: This one also just has a Narcissa vibe for me. This version is slow, it’s pretty but it has an almost scary kind of tone to it, it’s strong but understated and then it gets very fierce and then still has a kind of pretty, classic sound even through the harder part of the song, and the organ that comes in, like I can just see her gliding down a marble staircase in slow motion -- it just feels so, so Narcissa to me.

Wilson - Fall Out Boy: “There’s nothing more cruel than to be loved by everybody. . . I always make such expensive mistakes. . . I’ll stop wearing black when they make a darker color” There are lyrics scattered through this song that make me think of Narcissa. It’s Fall Out Boy so it’s a little chaotic and not all of the song makes me think of her, but enough of it does that I put it on here anyway lol

The Other Side - Hugh Jackman and Zac Efron: “I quite enjoy the life you say I’m trapped in / Now I admire you, and that whole show you do / You’re onto something, really it’s something. . . Don’t you know that I’m okay with this uptown part I get to play / ‘Cause I got what I need. . . I don’t need to see the other side. . . Ain’t in a cage, so I don’t need to take the key. . . Can’t you see I’m doing fine / I don’t need to see the other side” Okay, bear with me. So this song is a conversation, right? One person trying to convince the other to join this thing that’s so great, it’s going to change their life, change their whole world. So to me it feels like a super upbeat Death Eater recruitment speech lmao. And the quoted part above feels like what Narcissa might have said at first -- belief in the cause but reluctance to be directly involved because it’s just beneath her, and the way things are isn’t so bad anyway. It just felt really fitting.

Rise - Katy Perry: “I won’t just survive / You will see me thrive . . . Don’t doubt it / Victory is in my veins / I know it, I know it / And I will not negotiate / I’ll fight it” More Queen of Everything energy. No matter what happens to her, she always gets back up and keeps going. She can’t be defeated. She’s just the best.

A Little Wicked - Valerie Broussard: “Beware the patient woman, ‘cause this much I know / No one calls you honey, when you’re sitting on a throne / One of these days a-comin’, I’m gonna take that boy’s crown / There’s a serpent in these still waters, lying deep down / To that king I will bow, at least for now” VERY Queen of Everything vibes. Like, this just Is Narcissa. Everyone underestimates her but if she’d been given half a chance, I feel very strongly that she could’ve taken over the whole thing and won.

Killer Queen - Queen: “Well versed in etiquette / Extraordinarily nice / She’s a Killer Queen. . . Perfume came naturally from Paris / For cars she couldn’t care less / Fastidious and precise / She’s a Killer Queen” A lot of the lyrics to this song actually feel really Narcissa to me. That woman who’s amazing and gorgeous but you feel like might have poisoned your tea a little bit? Narcissa.

Glory and Gore - Lorde: “Glory and gore go hand in hand / That’s why we’re making headlines. . . Delicate in every way but one / God knows we like archaic kinds of fun” This one might make a little more sense if Narcissa was an active Death Eater herself, but I feel like it’s still pretty Narcissa-y. I think in the very beginning, when Voldemort was gaining power and her husband was gaining power in their ranks, she might’ve enjoyed the whole thing, before it really started to affect her life, you know? And I think she might have a little bit of a dark streak in her -- not nearly so much as Bellatrix, but they are sisters, she could very well have some of that darkness in her. So this one song just feels like her for me, and that one little streak of darkness.

Wicked Ones - Dorothy: “This night ain’t for the faint of heart / ‘Cause the faint of heart gonna fall apart / This night ain’t for the holy man with the holy plan / For the promised land / This night we got the evil hand” This one can also be speaking to her streak of darkness if you want. Because otherwise there’s a little bit of headcanon angst coming lmao. The lyrics of this one just by themselves feel like the night Voldemort went to kill the Potters, and Narcissa trying to convince herself it was a good thing that the baby had to die, so the music behind the lyrics feels like her trying to, like, get pumped and happy and ignore the fact that a child that’s just about the same age as her own son is about to die. She can’t let herself care and be faint of heart or she’ll fall apart and that’s unacceptable, because Dumbledore’s plan is failing and they finally have the upper hand, so she has to be wicked and ignore what’s happening and just be happy, be wicked, play and celebrate and be with Lucius and keep up the mask.

I hope my interpretations of her aren’t too terrible -- I’ve just loved her for so long, like I named one of my dogs Narcissa and she’s lowkey my favorite, and I’ve read SO much fanfiction about her and the Malfoys, I have way too many feelings about Narcissa lmao. I hope you enjoy the playlist either way!!

[buckysforeverprincess]

Thanks For The Memories -Pt 2

Steve Rogers x Reader, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson

Words: 3331

Warning: Language, arguments, reader smacks Steve

A/N: Part 2 will see the confrontation between reader and Steve. Here we find out the reason why Steve did what he did. Enjoy.

As predicted, James wanted to be next to the man he had determined was his father. Even though he was supposed to sit in between Nat and yourself, he quickly made his way to the row behind you where Bucky, Steve, and Sam were sitting; occupying Steve’s lap for the duration of the service.  

The group of friends you had in your life were the best a person could ask for. Each of them standing up, recanting a story or memory about your mother, every one of them saying she was like a second mom to them. It was hard to ignore the feelings inside telling you this was home, and these were your people--your family. Going back to Atlanta was going to be harder this time than it was the last, especially now that they've all been able to see and get to know James. Your five-year-old has carved his place in their hearts.

Once the service was over, Bucky carried a very sleepy James towards you, rubbing the boys back for comfort. “Little man's tired, and Sam is having it out with Steve. Want me to take him back to your place?” Bucky gives you a smirk.

They all keep referring to your mom’s house as yours in hopes you'll choose to stay. “Yeah, that’d be great, Bucky. Thanks.”

“Anything for you.” The man leans in and places a tender kiss to your lips.

“Thought you said she was off limits, Barnes?” Nat quickly chimes in at the sight of his kiss.

“Hey, it's always a good thing to let your intentions be known. Six years may have changed my mind a little.” Bucky gives you a wink, and you know it's just his usual flirtatious self.

“Wonder what they're arguing about.” Nat leans in to you once Bucky is gone, still many more people to say goodbye to.

“Most likely me, and now James.” You replied to her in between handshakes and hugs from people who knew your mother.

“He'll be the last one, ya know?”

“Yes.” Was all you could say, because you did know. Steve would wait until everyone was gone, limiting the interference of a crowd.  

Sure enough, the line thinned out and the only people remaining were Clint, Sam and Steve. The three made their way over, Clint first, so he could now stand next to his wife in case they both needed to intervene in a moment of crisis. Sam was next, the man leaning in to your ear so only you would hear his whisper.

“He’s extremely pissed and hurt. I've tried to calm him as much as I can, but it's not just you he's upset with…it's all of us. We all knew, and not one of us told him. He's feels like everyone betrayed him…but I did remind him of why this happened in the first place, so I wore him down for you.” Sam kisses your cheek and wraps his arms around you in a hug.

“Thanks, Sam.”  

The man steps away, and your met with the blue eyes of your ex standing in front of you. “Steven.”

“Y/N.” He responds, that stoic look from earlier has reappeared.

“We should talk.” You nod your head, not able to say the words acknowledging his statement.

“You should ride with Steve to the church. Moms church is hosting a dinner in her honor. You can ride with Steve, and we'll all meet over there.” Nat suggests.

Damn her, already getting you and Steve alone together.

“Sounds good.” Steve says stepping away slightly. “Shall we?” He holds out his hand, offering it to you in a weird turn of emotions.

“As you wish.” You accept his hand, and he leads you out of the funeral home, and to his car in silence.  

Then drive to the Church isn't too terribly far, but with traffic and stop lights it's about fifteen minutes away. It's not a lot of time, but time enough to get out the basics and touch on the messier parts he's dying to know about.

“So, I have a son.” Steve starts out, turning the key in the ignition and starting the car.

“Yes.” You look to him, and his eye are hyper focused on the road in front of him.

“Why am I just finding this out, Y/N?”

There's no anger behind it, and you thank Sam for getting to him first. He may have been able to talk Steve down from the worst part of his emotional distress.

“Well, how do you tell a man who never loved you, he fathered a child with you? It was a lose, lose situation, and I didn't want my son or myself being resented. None of that would be conducive to a healthy relationship, and not one I wanted James to have to grow up in.”

Steve's hands are gripping hard on his steering wheel and you can see the whites of his knuckles appearing. Maybe Sam didn't talk him down so much after all.

“But he's my son. How can you make a decision about our child without involving me?! It's called parenting, or did you forget?” Steve tone screamed of bitterness.

That's fine. Let the man be bitter or angry or whatever emotion he chose. You've had many of these emotions over the past six years dealing with your own shit. Steve deserved a healthy dose of his own medicine.  

“I give zero fucks about what you think or feel, and yes-I do know what parenting is!” You're looking dead at him, watching him keep his eyes trained on the road. “I've been doing fine without you for five years. So, pardon me for not involving the man who threw me away like a cheap broken toy. You made your bed, so now you can comfortably lie in it!” There was no way you were going to validate his feelings on the matter. His actions caused all of this to happen to begin with.

“I lied, Y/N.”

The confession was soft, even though his entire body screamed angry. “Those things I said...I lied.” He approaches a stop light and lowers his head in defeat, which is good, for him anyway. It gives him a moment to collect himself, because you, on the other hand, are the one with all the emotions and rage building up inside you.  

You've had six years of pent up anger and emotional stress festering inside you, and it's been waiting, buried deep, for a time when it would come unleashed and explode like a hot volcano. That time had finally come, and eruption was happening now. It just happens to be in the very enclosed space of Steve’s car.

“Fuck. No!” You look over to Steve, your face flushed from the rage inside you. The man in the driver's seat is fully aware of what's coming for him, so he pulls off the main road and into a parking spot on the street. Once he's placed the car in park, his attention is now fully on you, body turned in your direction.  

“I'm sorry, but it was the only way-”

“Only way to what, Steve?! Break my heart into a million fucking pieces?! Well, good fucking job asshole! Mission very well accomplished!” You yell out, but it doesn't make you feel any better. There's still so much left to get out.

“Y/N, you wouldn't leave! Your dad was dying, and I couldn't persuade you to go!” Steve defends his actions from years ago, hoping you'd see his point of view.

“So, saying the worst possible things imaginable was your only option to get me to go?! Are you fucking stupid?!” You inhaled a deep breath winded from all the screaming you were doing at the man you once loved.  

“I'll admit…maybe I should’ve taken a different approach, but-”

“Different approach?!” You interrupted him once again. “You fucking told me you never loved me! How you faked kisses or looks, how much I was a lost puppy following you around! You basically said being with me was out of obligation! Who the fuck tells someone they supposedly love that, then tells them years later it was all a lie?! What the fuck actually goes on in that stupid fucking head of yours?!” You demanded an answer but know that's a question that will go unanswered.

“It killed me to say it, but you wouldn't leave! I tried talking to you, even Nat and Bucky told you to go because you'd end up regretting it later, but you wouldn't. Something more drastic had to be done!” Steve runs his hands through his hair in frustration of himself. He knows it wasn't the best way to handle the situation, but what's done is done. He can't go back and fix the way he broke your heart. In truth, it had broken his too.  

“There were a million other ways, Steve…but the way you did it, forced every action I took since the day I left our apartment. Every. Single. One. Including all things James Samuel-”

“What's his last name?” Steve is now the one to interrupt you. “What's his last name, Y/N? Did you give him my last name or not?!” Steve has moved the argument on to matters of your son.  

“Of course, I gave him your last name! Why? I haven't the foggiest fucking idea. Maybe I wanted to honor your mother at least, even if her son was the biggest asshat ever to walk the earth!”

Steve shakes his head at your words, unable say anything back. He knows you've got a lot of pent up anger over what he did, and some things don't require a response. This is one of those times.  

“I found out I was pregnant when I was in Atlanta, right before my father died. You have no idea what that was like, Steve! The man I loved, whose child I was carrying, broke up with me in the worst possible way and my father was on his deathbed, cancer killing him swiftly. I had no one! All alone to deal with what was going on. I needed you, but you left me...breaking my heart and killing me inside.”

Breathing the same air as he was becoming too much. You had to get out of the car. There's no way you could be around Steve any longer.  

Opening the car door was like freeing your soul…but stepping out of the car and taking that first breath, was like awakening something dormant within you. Something that had been silent for much too long, and you were ready to let it out.  

Steve watched you shut his car door and walk in front of his car, to the driver’s side door.

“Get the fuck out!” You said as you opened his door, pointing at him.

“What the fuck, Y/N?!” Steve was making no move to follow the demand he was given.

“Are you deaf?! GET THE FUCK OUT NOW!” You screamed as loud as you could, attracting the faces of the people around you.  

“Fine!” Steve concedes, unbuckling his seat belt and steps out of the car. “Happy?!” He leans up against it and crosses his arms.

It was only mere seconds later, your hand connected with his face, smacking him with all the strength your body could muster, leaving a nice sized red mark in its place.  

“I deserved that.” Steve said rubbing at his face, a few people have stopped and are now staring at the two of you.

“You deserve more!” You yelled before using your other hand and giving his other cheek a matching mark.

“Feel better?” Steve asks, and he can see one of the guys watching make a move in the direction of the two of you and he nods him off. “We're good man.” Steve tells him, hoping to deter him from intervening.  

“We're far from fucking good, Steve!” You turn and walk away, leaving Steve and everyone else that had been watching you in your fit of anger. It was Brooklyn, people see shit like that all the time. This was no different than any other day.

There are hurried footsteps behind you and you're sure you know who they belong to. “Leave me alone!” You were mad as hell right now. Why couldn't he just go away and leave you to your frustrations.

“Y/N, will you stop!” He shouted after you.

 “Fuck off Steve!”  

There was nothing left to say. Except there was. Steve's reasoning just didn't add up. Who the fuck is that stupid to do what they did, breaking someone's heart in the worst way possible. No. If he lied once, he'd do it again, and you deserved to know the real reason he hurt you six years ago.  

“Y/N, stop!” Steve yelled, grabbing at your arm and you stopped dead in your tracks.

“Tell me why, Steve!” Your face filled with anger when you turned to face him. “Tell me why you broke my heart!”  

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. This angered you even more and once again your hand made contact with his face, hurting yourself in the process.

“Will you fucking stop hitting me!” He grabs at his reddened cheek once more.

“Then fucking tell me why! Why the fuck did you really break my heart?!”

“Because of him!” Steve was looking into your eyes as he finally confessed his true sin. “Because you love Bucky more than you ever did me!”  

The anger on your face morphs into that of confusion. “What?!” You try to process the words that Steve has disclosed to you. “I never loved Bucky like I did you! Everything about Bucky and me was strictly platonic. You told me you didn't have a problem with it, and we both agreed we'd never take it too far!”

Steve and you had talked about the flirting many times before and he assured you it was ok. If he had such a problem, why couldn't he just tell you? It was something that could be easily rectified.

“I lied, ok! I hated it. The two of you were always flirting or touching. It made me feel like I wasn't enough! You never looked at me the way you did him! It made me wonder if what we had was even real!” Steve is yelling at you with tears in his eyes. It almost made you feel bad for him, but not quite. His real reason still shouldn't have brought on such a heartbreak to begin with.  

“So, you were jealous, even though I was one hundred percent with you the entire time?!” You're in his face now, pointing your finger at him. “Instead of talking with me, you took it upon yourself to end things! You used my father's cancer as an excuse to end our relationship because you were jealous? Un-fucking-real!”  

Steve stood there with tears running down his face, and you were just about as angry as you had been when this conversation first started.

“I loved you…,” Steve says through the tears, “but I couldn't handle the way you two were together.” He’s wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Then you should have talked to me!” You stomped your foot to the ground. “I was the other person in the relationship, the decision wasn't up to you!”

“How could I tell you it upset me? If I did, then things between Bucky and you would have changed, and I would have been to blame!” Steve runs his fingers through his blond hair, and even though you were mad at him, it was one of the things you loved when he did.  

“Things should have changed!” You scared a woman walking by with the volume of your yell. She jumped from your voice, and you chuckled a little at her movements. “Sorry!” You offer an apology, with a sorrowful look. It wasn't her fault the two of you were on the street arguing but being in the car with him was too suffocating, and you needed the space.  

“If you trusted me, then you should have told me. Yes, things would have changed, but I loved you, Steve. I would have fought hard to keep our relationship together.” Your anger is starting to dissipate. The worst of it over and you feel better since smacking him a third time.  

“I've never stopped loving you.” Steve says through the tears in his eyes. “Even when I thought you'd turn to Bucky, I never stopped.”

You shake your head at the man you had loved before. “I never turned to Bucky. Not then...not now. I named our son after him, but not because I loved James, but because I wanted to pay tribute to the guys who were your friends and two of the best guys I knew. That was the extent of my love for James. You would have known that if you talked to me.”  

“I'm sorry.” Steve pleads with you. “I wish I could take it all back-”

“But you can't! There's nothing that can change what you did, so now we're here. We're no longer together, I live in Atlanta, and we have a child together. We're also no closer to figuring things out then we were back at the funeral home.” You crossed your arms at your chest, done arguing, ready to stand your ground. Just about everything was now out in the open, at least that's what you hoped anyway.

“Where do we go from here?” Steve looks tired from the argument that let out so much of the pain he’d been holding in.

“I don't know.” You shrug at him. The truth is, you didn't. Too much has happened in the name of Steve's unwarranted jealousy, and you're not sure there's a fix that can be made.

“If you want to see James, you'll have to go through Nat. I can't see you right now. There's too much I have to sort through.” You needed time to figure yourself out and decide how to handle Steve going forward.  

“Do you think we can ever fix this? I miss you terribly...I want to be in your life--raise our son together. I've missed too much already. I can't miss anything more.” Steve is pleading with you on the streets of Brooklyn. The streets that were once your home, but never could be again. You had a life back in Atlanta. One you weren't looking to give up.

“If you want an answer right now, the answer is no. Everything is too fresh, old wounds have been re-opened and I need time to heal.” There would be no happily ever after at this point. Maybe it just wasn't in the cards for you and Steve.

“Maybe at some point we can have a conversation, pertaining to our son, but that's all I can offer right now.”

Steve gave you a nod, understanding what you've said. “I'll take what I can get.” He wipes the last tears from his face, giving you a halfhearted smile.  

“I'll take you back.” Steve’s voice is raspy from the yelling and crying he has done.

You shake your head at the man, “I can walk. I need the alone time. Just--give me my space.” You turned and slowly began to walk away, leaving Steve alone on the Brooklyn sidewalk, watching the distance grow between you.

Too much had happened, both past and present. Steve's confession just added to the reasons why you didn't want to stay in Brooklyn anymore. He'd destroyed what you had over something that was never an issue, at least not for you. The damage he'd done, shaped every choice you had made since. Even with the variable of your son, you didn't think you could ever forgive Steve for the choices he'd made in the past.  

Brooklyn was where it started and ended. There's no way you could ever call this place your home again. 

Part 3

[amandaoftherosemire]

...The Other in Hell

Fandom: Marvel Dark AU

Pairing: Demon!Steve Rogers X Angel!Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers, Joseph Rogers, Sarah Rogers, Maria Hill, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Nicholas Fury, Natasha Romanoff, James Barnes, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, James Rhodes, Happy Hogan

Author: @amandaoftherosemire​

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6,938

Format: Two-part One-shot 

Warning: Violence, angst, fluff, flangst, language, implied smut, implied torture, implied abuse, domestic and child, minor character death.

Summary: In a 19th century New York City carved up between angels and demons, you and Steve have roles in the eternal war you neither asked for nor wanted. All you really want is each other.

A/N: Written for @buckysforeverprincess’ Into the Nightmare 2K challenge. 🎉🎉🎉Congratulations, dearest!! 🎉🎉🎉 I had such a great time with this challenge. Everyone should go follow her right now cause she’s great!

Set in the mid-to-late nineteenth century, but I stayed vague so that I didn’t end up spending the rest of November doing research in the interests of historical accuracy. I am a pedantic butthole so that is totally something I would do. I had intended to have this up before Halloween, but once I got going I couldn’t stop, because I am also a verbose butthole 🤨🤔. I had promised to make this a one-shot, however, and though it’s been split into two parts for clarity’s sake, it is complete.

Prompt: Angels and demons have never played fair.

One Foot in Heaven… here

The Other in Hell

A long time later, you butted your head against the massive shoulder and chest you’d pillowed your head upon and made grumpy sounds. Steve burst out laughing and rolled to his side to face you, moving your head onto his bicep. The two of you were curled naked on the floor in front of the sofa; you'd tumbled him to the floor trying to get your breeches off. "Yes, milady?" Steve asked, his tone almost viciously sarcastic.

You were surprised by the edge; Steve's sarcasm had been softer when you were young. You weren't disappointed, however. You had sharp edges of your own these days.

"You fixed it," you replied archly. "Your shoulder is too high now. It hurts my neck." You pouted at him, aware he hated it, yet found it irresistible.

Steve leaned forward with a low growl and sank his teeth into your lower lip. "I never thought you'd complain about that part of it." You were both carefully easing around the subject of what it was, neither willing to burst the little bubble of contentment you'd created in this place of shattered dreams. Though you didn't acknowledge it, neither of you were oblivious to the reality of your positions.

"I like seeing you healthy," you said when he released your lips, though you were a little breathless. "And you look good." You said this to his chest, feeling oddly shy. "But I loved my Steve the way he was. I wouldn't have changed him for worlds." You breathed the last, the thing neither of you wanted to acknowledge rising up to choke you.

Steve's voice sounded equally strangled when he spoke. "Loved?"

At the bleak note ringing in his tone, your eyes flew up to his. Though you'd seen them boil black multiple times over the previous hour, they were all Steve as they looked at you now and shining with tears. You'd never expected to see Steve look at you as though braced for a blow. You knew the best thing for both of you was to tell him that you didn't love him anymore, that you couldn't love what he'd become.

And you knew the lie to be so profane, so blasphemously false, it would burn your tongue like acid should you try to utter it.

"I love my Steve no matter what he looks like," you answered instead, your eyes filling with tears. You ruthlessly blinked them back, only one escaping. You shored up your defenses; two in one day was a record. Another slipped out when you closed your eyes in response to the feel of Steve's lips on your cheek, kissing the first away. You opened them again when his lips caught the other, your eyes catching the flash of gold in the depths. Your voice dropped to a near whisper as you went on. "I love my Steve no matter what he's become, or what he's done."

"Don't say that," Steve whispered back, his heart aching.

"I promised to be yours forever. I don't want to take it back."

"I'm not who I was. I feel like it right now, when I'm looking at you," Steve reached up to cup your cheek. The feel of those sensitive artist's fingers against your skin had you closing your eyes and sighing in pleasure. "But I'm not." The sound of Steve's voice had your eyes snapping open in shock. He'd let you hear the demon inside him and the pitch had your blood responding instinctively. The symbols that normally lay dormant underneath your skin began to glow in response. "Oh!" Steve blinked in surprise, his eyes swiftly returning to normal. "It's lovely!" His cheeks flushed with either desire or embarrassment, perhaps both. "I expected it to burn."

You smiled at him, but your voice trembled when you spoke. "I'm not who I was, either," you replied, and Steve thought only he would hear the melancholy in your tone, but he knew the cadence of your voice for all it had changed.

"You didn't used to be an assassin." Steve's face held that sadness you'd seen when you were children, but you had been too young then to recognize the expectation of betrayal. "Did you come here to kill me, my love?"

"Yes." You didn't hesitate, didn't try to evade. Steve deserved nothing but the truth from you, no matter how painful. You'd done that when you let him believe you'd died. "But I didn't know that until today."

Steve's eyes had boiled black at your admission, but they cleared quickly at your addendum. "I'm listening."

You smiled. Demon or not, you could always count on Steve to listen before wading in to a fight, though you were one of the few who could. You took a deep breath, leaned forward and kissed Steve, long, and warm, and sweet. "First, I meant what I said. I love you, no matter what."

You sat up and began to dress, the bubble was long gone, and you felt cold in just your skin despite the warmth of Steve's body against yours. Steve's face was sad again as he sat up to do the same. Once you were back in everything but your skirts, a fact Steve noted as you’d strapped your knife back to your thigh, you sat back on the couch. Steve sat next to you and at the sad smile on your face, he slid his arm around you to pull you close. You rested your forehead against his shoulder and took a shaky breath as you opened your mouth to tell Steve as much of the truth as you could, as far as you knew. Tony had lied to you for the last time.

"I was brought back from England for a singular purpose. Whether or not I stayed in New York depended on the outcome of my mission. I was absolutely not supposed to see you under any circumstances. I wasn't supposed to leave Manhattan at all. I gave my handler the slip, or as I prefer to think of her these days, my warden."

Steve was grinning now. He couldn't count the number of times he'd tried and failed to dissuade you from doing something you most definitely were not supposed to do. He didn't know why Tony and the handler even bothered. His grin faded when you lifted your head and he caught sight of your expression. At your next words, he shared your desolation.

"I was brought back to assassinate, sight unseen, the Demon King of New York. I was told remarkably little about him, very tall, very strong, vicious as a snake." Your mouth was twisting derisively as rage bubbled up inside you. "I was told a great deal more about his lieutenant, a green-eyed redhead as fast as she is beautiful and twice as deadly. Imagine my surprise when I ran into her guarding your house."

Steve's eyes had been boiling black and you'd been feeling the infernal cold of the thing that lived inside him. It used the betrayal to bay for blood. Until he understood you'd had no idea. The shock seemed to snap him out of it, his eyes clearing and his body warming almost immediately. "Wait--"

"I was told nothing of what I was until the night I sat in my uncle's study, drinking a brandy to calm my nerves after escaping first the cage my father put me in, then the house fire he set, then the borough controlled by demons riled up by a regime change. Meanwhile, my mother and another of my father's victims had not escaped. I was then told that you had chosen your demon blood, joined your father--" Here you paused to take his face between your palms. "And as if I wasn't skeptical enough, then I was told you'd killed your mother, and I knew they didn't know as much as they thought they did if they believed that for a single moment."

Steve's eyes only bubbled once before settling back into familiar blue, so you kept going. "The good side keeps lying to me. And I keep going along with it because it gets me to my ultimate goal. I went along with this incredibly suspicious assassination plan because killing the King of New York would draw out my father and all I've cared about for years is destroying him for stealing my life from me."

You slid back into Steve's lap; you were getting used to the feel of his much muscular arms, enough so that you had started to miss it. Once you'd settled yourself across his thighs, your arm around his neck and nose-to-nose, he raised an eyebrow at you in disbelief. "My assassin is confident of her welcome."

"Well, I'm obviously not going to do it now." You rolled your eyes at Steve before burying your face in the crook of his neck.

"What am I going to do with you?" Steve scoffed gently and wrapped his arms tightly around you as he asked, though the moment the words were out of his mouth, he began to dread what came next.

You'd heard the question enough to know your answer. "Keep me."

"Can I?" Steve knew his lines, too, though he'd never delivered them with such despair. He held as still as possible, stress holding his muscles tight in preparation for the pain.

"If I can keep your name."

Steve had closed his eyes as he braced, but at the word 'keep', rather than 'have', they popped back open. "What?"

"You don't think I've been going by my own name this whole time. You married me that day in the garden. I'm Y/N Rogers now."

Steve's eyes blazed with golden light just as his lips met yours.

You and Steve spent the next hour telling each other as much as you both felt you could. There was no question that you still loved one another, but neither of you was able to forget that you stood on opposing sides. You would trust Steve with yourself, but you couldn't take the risk of trusting him fully. Regardless of how Tony and the others had lied, your loyalties still felt divided. You could tell by the way he talked around Natasha, and the others you knew to be there but whose names he didn't share, that he felt the same.

Instead you told Steve everything you could about what had happened to you since the last time you saw each other, omitting with whom to protect your alliances, no matter how strained. In return, you finally heard the whole story of what had happened that night.

"When my father kissed you, the symbols in your skin started to glow. It was… beautiful,” Steve breathed the word and the awe in the sound had your heart clenching in agony, “but the brighter it got, the more it seemed to burn you both. As you started to scream, my father looked like he was struggling to let you go until he suddenly threw you across the room." Steve paused, and the tightness of his jaw told you he had as hard a time with the memories as you did. You hadn't moved from your place in his lap, so you turned your face into the crook of his neck and kissed the soft skin of his throat in comfort.

Because your face was buried in his neck, you didn't see the spasm of pain that crossed Steve's face. Having you alive and in his arms was more paradise than something like him deserved, but he wasn't going to let you go. Though he hadn't done so in years, certain in his rejection, Steve prayed that you meant what you had said about loving him, about letting him keep you, because he wasn't sure how the demon inside him would react to having its desires frustrated and it had strangely become as possessive of you as Steve himself.

Clearing his throat, Steve went on, choosing to cross that bridge if and when you tried to leave. "I got to you before your mother did, and when I did the light pouring out of you went gold. That set my father off, and he started hitting my mother. I tried to stop him, but I didn't have the strength. You woke not long after." You could hear the grief in his voice and knew the worst was coming. "As your father carried you out, I lunged at him with the letter opener. My father caught me before I could do any damage and took the letter opener from me. Once the door was closed behind you, he used it to stab my mother."

Even as your heart wept anew at the loss of a woman you'd loved almost as much as your own mother, at the sound of Steve's grief, as cruel and cold as when it was new, your hands moved in soothing circles over Steve's shoulders, neck, and scalp. He didn't notice, but as you touched him, kissed him, you were filling him with the silver light that lived inside you. It flowed into all the cracks in his heart and soul as though it could heal the damage he was reliving. "As she bled out, he beat me to within an inch of my life. As I lay there choking on my own blood, he offered me the chance to live. All I had to do was accept the gift he'd already given me and my whore angel mother had tried to steal."

At the sound of the slur, and the demonic timbre, you lifted your head to look at Steve's face. His eyes were no longer boiling; the black had taken over even the white of the eye. Taken by surprise, you slipped into your other sight.

Every hair on your body stood on end, and the sigils your archangel mother had etched into your skin as an infant to guard against the demonic taint of your father's blood began to glow once more. The demon knew what you were up to and was displeased. Good. You leaned forward and brushed your lips softly against his. He responded by fisting his hand in your hair and dragging your head back to plunder your mouth. You let him, met him with a gentle passion of your own designed to soothe rather than enflame.

The warm taste of your mouth and the generous use to which you put it had Steve pushing the demon aside once more. Soon his lips were softening against yours and the hand that had been holding your hip in a bruising grip had come up to gently touch your face. When he pulled back, they were his own again, and sheened with tears. Steve let his fall freely, and though you knew better, you caught each with your lips as he had done for yours.

"I knew it was the only way to stop him, to stop your father. My mother's blood had prevented the demonic contamination from spreading. He performed the spell that would purge the angel and allow the demon to take hold. When I woke up, I looked like this." Steve rested his forehead against yours, and the sheer exhaustion on his face had your heart hurting for him. You kept brushing your hands through his hair and your mouth over his skin, trying to fill him up with light and solace.

"I slaughtered him. I had no control at first and I did unspeakable things to him. When I got to your house to find it in flames, I could have done the same to your father, but he saw me and ran. I've been chasing him ever since I found two bodies in the rubble."

Your head snapped up from where you'd been pressing your mouth to the point in his neck where you could feel his heartbeat. “You found--?”

Steve smiled, but it was a cynical twist of the lips. "Another thing you weren't told, I take it?"

You raised an annoyed eyebrow. You hadn't told Steve, but you'd had a long conversation with your uncle the day you'd returned. You'd made it clear that you understood why he'd withheld so much information from you when you were younger, but that you would not abide lies, even those of omission, any longer. Tony had agreed to share any information that had to do with or directly affected you. You weren't surprised that he'd been lying again, but you were disappointed.

"No." You sniffed, and the haughty disdain in the sound was so reminiscent of his youth, Steve chuckled wryly and wrapped his arms around you to shake you gently out of your ill humor as he'd done a thousand times. At the feeling, the corner of your mouth twitched in reluctant humor. You kissed him softly, your heart throbbing with remorse. "I'm sorry I let you think I was dead."

Steve snorted, then shook his head in disbelief. "I'm sorry I became a demon." He grinned when you snorted in return, then leaned his head back against the back of the sofa and looked up at you, his eyes tired and guarded. "So what now? Where does this leave us?"

One of the side effects of the damage to your voice was that your humming had become nearly soundless, a soft rasp almost indiscernible from a sigh. Fury had been concerned when your voice hadn't fully healed that you wouldn't be able to complete your training. The concern had been unnecessary. Whoever was in charge of these things apparently decided there was enough of a pitch to your broken voice to count. Not only could you perform incantations as deftly as any of your kind, you had the added benefit of being able to do so stealthily.

You had been humming the notes of an incantation since Steve had started his story.

You snuggled closer and went back to running your hands through his hair, your fingernails dragging in soothing light scratches over his scalp, only now you opened your mouth to sing the incantation. The previous humming had done its work; the demon was asleep and as Steve slipped into a trance, he murmured. "That's hardly fair, dearest."

"Oh, my love." You looked down at his beautiful face and let your blood react to the demon underneath his skin. "Angels and demons have never played fair."

The sigils weren't the only thing that began to glow. Your mother had etched glyphs in between each sigil and these lit up as well, but for the first time, they glowed gold instead of silver. Your eyes were shining like suns as you drank in the sight you loved more than all others. The light had filled the room, and if you had been able to see anything but Steve, you may have noticed the way the shimmers of silver and golden lights seemed to collide and strike sparks.

You were trying to make yourself push more power out, to end this once and for all. You didn't expect to make it out of the house alive, but you didn't care about your revenge anymore. Steve had done the wrong thing for the right reasons, you the right for wrong. Neither of you were blameless, but that meant nothing when all you wanted was him. You didn't care about this war, or the right or wrong of it. You just wanted to go back to the days when you knew you'd spend the rest of your life at his side.

The door burst in with a slam as Natasha came barreling in. James was behind her along with several other people you'd never seen before. "Demons will want to stay back if they want to continue existing." Your voice had become the chiming ring of bells; combined with the sight of their King acquiescent in the middle of the flood of shimmering light, it stopped them in their tracks. 

James breathed your name, his voice rich with the pain of betrayal. You closed your eyes as guilt hit you in a wracking spasm.

"You shouldn't be so trusting, James." You turned to look at him and hoped he could see the remorse through the stream of light. You caught movement from the dark-skinned man with the sly eyes and recognized another of Steve's ilk, someone who rushed in where angels fear to tread. "Don't." You said it firmly as you turned your eyes to his. "The light will incinerate you."

"Sam." James voice held a warning and the man eased back without relaxing his stance just as Natasha spoke up.

"What about Steven?" she demanded, her tone promising retribution. So be it.

"Steve's special," you replied, your face softening as you turned back to him. "They told me they were bringing me back to assassinate the Demon King of New York. They lied." You were shaking, your body quaking with the force of the light pouring out of you. "I was bait!" You shouted it, trying and failing to hold back your fury; the injustice of it had a pulse of light and heat surging out and pressing Steve's friends against the wall. Only James stayed where he was.

"Bait?" He asked it quietly and had all eyes except yours turning toward him. James knew you, could see the anguish, the indecision, regardless of the brightness with which you shone.

"I don't kill," you explained, your voice softening as you brushed Steve's hair back from his face. He was looking up at you with pure love and trust in his eyes, the trance carefully created to keep him from suffering. "I cleanse." At the word, a shiver of both fear and longing shivered through every person in the room. Cleansing would remove demonic contamination, but at the cost of one's mortal frame. "I can't do it from a distance. They didn't intend for me to do it at all, or they would have trusted me with the information that Steve is the Demon King of New York."

Natasha quivered like she was about to leap for your throat, but a bored-looking brunet that had come bursting in with the rest gently restrained her with a firm grip around her upper arms. "Then what's with the angel melodrama?" he asked, his voice strangely casual for the situation. You found yourself liking this demon, too.

"I know what I'm supposed to do." You said it softly, more to Steve than as an answer to the strange man's question. "I know the 'right' thing. If Steve was the angel, and I the demon, he'd do the right thing no matter how much it hurt him." The shaking was coming in harsher waves, your body wracked with paroxysms. "But I don't see a demon when I look at you." You whispered the last, your lips a breath from his, but the bell sound the incantation had given your voice carried it through the room. "I don't know if that's my weakness or your strength."

You pressed your lips to his, determined to do what you had been trained to do, but the pain of it was too big. You dragged in a sobbing breath and realized the wracking spasms came not from the light, but from the convulsive weeping you hadn't recognized. Years of grief too long restrained came pouring out of you in what felt like an ocean of tears. When Steve's arms lifted to embrace you, his hands diving into your hair to hold your head in place, you knew you couldn't destroy him, even to save him. You rather be damned yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, unable to control the waves of despair that threatened to tear you apart. “I can’t. I can’t.”

You noticed James relaxing and realized the light was dimming, but you weren't doing it. At the same moment, you also became aware that Steve's arms were tight around you and he was rocking your quaking body while he shushed you tenderly, the whispers in your ear instinctive endearments and reassurances. As the sobs continued to rip out of you, the cold black cloud billowing out of Steve softly tamed the bright light, cooling the white-hot holy fire that burned beneath your skin.

Once the heat and fire had been gently smothered, like a candle snuffed before bed, you found yourself curled like a child in Steve's arms still weeping quietly. The tearing sobs had left your throat raw and even more cracked than usual. As the light had drained out of you, so too had your strength. Your voice no longer chimed, the only sound you were making now your gasps for breath between nearly inaudible cries of exhaustion and despair.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw James hold out his hand as the rest of Steve's people filed out. Each of them placed what looked like a banknote in his palm as they walked by. Under your ear, Steve's voice rumbled in his chest. "Buck?"

"I told 'em if she didn't try to kill you in the first ten minutes, she wasn't going to." His face spread in the carefree grin you remembered from your youth and you realized you didn't see a demon underneath James' skin, either. "Not knowing our Y/N, they were skeptical."

"How much you make?" Steve asked with a low chuckle, his arms cradling you gently as his hands moved in soothing circles over your back and shoulders. You understood nothing of what was going on, but since you had your hands full trying to get your emotions back under control, you decided to worry about it later. You focused on your breathing, trying to bring yourself back from a full-blown attack of the vapors.

You were an archangel, a holy warrior of goddamn light. You would NOT succumb to the fucking vapors.

Nicholas Fury had shouted any number of things at you. That one was your favorite.

That's when it registered that Steve was breathing in a carefully even rhythm. Your heart simply melted at the realization that he was doing for you what you'd done for him a thousand times, helping you to calm your breathing by example. Steve didn't seem to be aware of what he was doing, his focus on James. Your breathing slowed as you matched his rhythm, but it was the reminder of Steve's unrelenting goodness that had your sobs easing and your tears slowing.

How could you destroy a man who remained pure even with a demon infesting his soul? Who could blame you for failing your mission when your mission was to kill Steve? Anyone who could pull that off and sleep at night was more demon than he'd ever be.

The thought had you settling further, the purge of emotion cathartic, leaving you almost submissive in your exhaustion. You lay quietly within the curve of Steve's arms, uncaring of what happened to you next as long as you didn't have to move. You had put your trust in him when you didn't fight against the cold cloud that had cloaked your light in darkness. If it was a mistake, you were willing to answer for it, even unto damnation.

"Five dollars," James answered with a slow, devious grin.

Steve laughed out loud, and the sound rumbled through you, pressed as tightly as you were to his body. You were burrowing against him, trying to get as close as you possibly could before you let yourself drift off to sleep. If Steve let you, you had every intention of sleeping there. To your shock, he seemed inclined.

"It should not be that easy to fleece demons," Steve replied, his voice wry. “We should really have a talk about being so arrogant. Or trusting.” The last he delivered with an arched brow in James' direction.

“Seriously.” You muttered it darkly, your voice muffled against Steve’s throat where you’d buried your face, the harsh scratch highlighting your displeasure. However, your irritation with James faded immediately and you sighed happily when Steve’s laugh purred against your lips.

You couldn’t see James’ face, but you could hear the sweet smile in his voice. “You can’t blame them. Who would bet an archangel wouldn’t slay an archdemon?”

You snorted, and Steve smiled. “Someone who knows the angel.”

You and James spoke in unison.

“And the demon.” “Or the archdemon.”

"Well, I'm off to gloat. Ring if you need anything and I'll send someone else." James closed the door behind him with a quick grin, leaving behind a silence that wasn't so much thick as it was poignant.

“Before we were interrupted by your ‘angel melodrama,’ as Clint called it, I believe I asked you a question, dearest.” Steve spoke softly, his voice warm but cautious. "Where does this leave us?"

You inhaled deeply through your nose, reveling in the scent that drew so many memories to the surface. When you released your breath, it came out in a sigh, but the contentment in the sound was clear despite the rasp. "I say we call it a draw. I'm awfully tired and I don't really want to find out who would win."

You couldn't see it, but by the way Steve was shaking his head, you could imagine the indulgently exasperated smile that he wore when he replied. "That's not what I meant."

You tilted back your head until you could see Steve's face. His jaw was set, the muscle in his cheek jumping and you realized he was nowhere near as calm as you had thought. You lifted your arm with an effort and softly brushed your fingers over that stubborn chin. You imagined that he was only more unmanageable now that he was almost a foot taller and covered in the corresponding muscle. You were wondering how many punches that jaw had taken in the past five years when his eyes met yours.

You let your arm fall; you had not yet recovered enough strength to hold it up any longer. "I really am so tired, Steve." He opened his mouth and you shook your head. "Not just right now, all the time." You sighed a little and rubbed your cheek against Steve's shoulder, something he remembered you did when you were about to confess not living up to the expectations of your mother. "I'm tired of this war, tired of training, of fighting. I'm tired of missing you every moment of every day. I'm tired of living without you."

Your voice was getting a little stronger as anger gave you the next best thing to energy. "I neither asked nor volunteered for this war; I was forced into it. I'm tired of allowing those that did so tell me lies designed to keep me from you."

Steve was watching you with eyes that glittered. Black bubbled up from time to time, but green tinged blue won out again and again. “Stay.” He stated the word baldly, even bleakly, as though he still expected you to say no. If you were smart, you probably would. But then, if Steve was smart, he wouldn't ask.

"As long as you like." Now that you'd made your decision, everything inside you settled into place. You were home again, wrapped in the arms of the man that had always and would always hold your heart. You were done worrying about the rest for the time being.

Steve's voice dropped almost to a whisper when he asked, "Forever?"

You smiled and lifted your heavy arm to pull his mouth to yours. "I'm willing to try," you rasped just before your lips met his and you felt him smile as he sank into the kiss. "If you have a place I can sleep for a little while," you continued when your lips were free again, "as soon as I have the energy, I'll write a letter to my uncle. Do you have someone fast that can deliver it?"

Steve couldn't help but smile. He fully intended to let you sleep exactly where you already were. What was the point of being in charge if he couldn't delegate for a day? And as for someone fast, Steve's mind flitted to the demon twins Clint had found a couple years before. The little witch was a fount of pure power, but no one could match her brother for speed. He opened his mouth to tell you so when he realized you were almost asleep.

Steve looked down at you, awed that you'd not only somehow come back to life, but back to him. He shifted a little to make both of you more comfortable while you rested and regained your equilibrium. He didn't know why, but the demon side of him purred to have you close, and his. Maybe there were crazier things than an angel and demon in love.

"Steve?" Your voice was sweet, if still hoarse, and had Steve's eyes closing in bliss even as the guarded part of his heart squinted against the unaccustomed feeling. "I never stopped loving you. Not for a minute.” You snuggled closer and sighed in contentment. "I love you, Steve." You hoped you woke up with Steve in a bed. You had plans for how you were going to use the rush of energy that came after you slept off the rush of letting the angel take over and he was not going to be in charge this time.

The last thing you heard before you finally succumbed to exhaustion was Steve's voice, rich and warm as he answered, "I love you, too, dearest.” And if his eyes were black as pitch, it still wasn’t a lie. Somehow, in its way, the demon loved you, too.

Dear Uncle Tony,

I must begin with an apology. Perhaps I should have spoken to you in person rather than trusting this message to a letter, but I thought it best to keep my distance, for now at least. I have no intention of going back to England.

I went home to Brooklyn, but not to see Steven. Had I known the house I was watching belonged to the man I was brought home to cleanse perhaps I would not have been so easily captured. I understand why you felt you could not trust me, but you should not have then tried to use me for your own ends. You should not have deceived me.

I am certain that it will come to no surprise to you, but you were undoubtedly correct; I was destined to fail this mission. I could never have ended him. Not for only the reasons you assume, however.

Steven and I bound our souls together before we knew our intended places in this war. I kept it to myself, but I did not completely disgrace my family when I allowed him the rights of a husband. We may not have had any witnesses but the flowers, but that did not make our vows any less binding.

You must understand that I can see him for exactly what he is. I know you will understand what I mean when I say the angel was almost fully upon me, when we are unable to look away from evil no matter what we may prefer, and I looked at Steven, trying to make myself do that for which I had been trained. When I did so, I did not see the kind of creature that lives beneath my father’s skin. I no longer see a pure soul, but neither you nor I possess such a thing. I do not see how we can judge Steven.

In such a situation, I cannot see any choice but to cleave to my husband. To be honest, I did not look for one.

If you wish to contact me, leave a message at my gravestone. I promise it will find its way to me. That is far less ominous than it sounds.

Your loving niece,

Y/N Rogers

 Tony Stark, Angel King of Manhattan, multi-millionaire, known eccentric and universally recognized genius, read the letter a third time before tossing it onto his desk. He glanced over at his right-hand and best friend, who sat on the sofa across the room waiting patiently.

Tony looked up at the man that had brought him the letter. Happy's heart had been heavy as he had done so; Tony inspired loyalty in those around him because he could be counted upon to return it.

"Happy, will you ask Pepper to join us?"

Relieved, as he knew Pepper would be more help than anyone else in this situation, nodded and turned to leave. "Sure thing, boss."

Once the door had closed behind Happy, the man on the couch spoke up. "Ransom or rescue?"

At that Tony started to laugh. His face turned sweet as it scrunched along with the schoolgirl giggles tumbling out of him. When he lay his head on the desk and howled, James Rhodes stood up and crossed the room to pick up the letter. Once he'd read it through, he looked down at Tony's quaking shoulders. "They took vows?"

"Uh-huh!" The sound was strangled, but recognizable as an affirmative.

"But wasn't that the plan the whole time?" Rhodey was shocked that Tony was laughing. If this letter was true, it meant the plan had worked and the last five years of screaming, nerve-scraping tension and barely leashed hostility, waiting for Rogers to make his move, had been utterly unnecessary.

Pepper entered the room expecting to find her husband already planning a strategy to get their niece back. Instead she found him drooling on his desk as he convulsed in laughter while his infinitely more grounded friend looked on in dismay. Without a word she joined Rhodey next to the desk, holding her hand out for the message that had brought such chaos to her household.

As she read, her eyes turned soft and sad even as her lips pressed into an exasperated line. When she had married Tony, the plan to save Sarah Rogers' son from his demonic bloodline were already in place. She had urged Tony, his sister, and Sarah to be honest with you and Steve, to tell you what they hoped to accomplish, but their biases had left them unable to trust children born of demons, no matter how old or venerable their angelic bloodlines.

"As Tony is currently of no assistance, do you know what this means?" Rhodey murmured to Pepper, the two of them long accustomed to commiserating over Tony's odd fits and starts.

"If they took vows before Steven's father finished his transformation, his soul would be bound to hers." Pepper was delighted; you were as dear to her as a daughter. However, she was also infuriated that their mistakes had cost both you and Steve so much time and caused so much misery. "When bound, their souls are balanced, neither the angel nor the demon able to take full control. Isn't that correct, Tony?"

At the strident tone of the question, Tony laughed all the harder. Pepper was mostly correct, but she'd forgotten that the binding would leave the demon addicted to and thus easily swayed by the angel. He was laughing because there was literally no reason to be afraid for you any longer. Tony fully expected Steven Rogers, Demon King of New York to be as harmless as a kitten before the end of the day, at least when it came to you.

When his little sister had returned from her own training in England to find that her dearest friend Sarah had been tricked into marrying an archdemon and bearing him a son, she had immediately hatched a plan to save the child. She had come to Tony for help, knowing he would assist her if for no other reason than to take Brooklyn back from the other side.

Tony had had to be coldly realistic. Though he had known the plan was fraught, the risks high, he also knew the rewards would be worth it. All he'd had to do was toss his own flesh and blood into the fray. He laughed, because if he'd been a better uncle than a warrior, perhaps he wouldn't have to leave a message on his niece's gravestone to tell her he was sorry.

A little over a year later…

Tony and Rhodey stood looking down at the sniveling creature in front of them when Happy knocked and entered, his face beaming smiles, a scrap of paper in his hand.

"Hey Boss! I still haven't figured out how, but a message got here right before the gossip. Brooklyn's got a new heir!"

Tony's head snapped up from contemplating his sister's murderer, his hand darting out to snatch the message out of Happy's grip.

 Stark --

At her request, I am writing you on behalf of Mrs. Rogers to inform you James Anthony Rogers was born this mid-morning. Mother and son are both healthy and well.

Regards,

N. R.

 Tony grinned and handed the message to Rhodey.

"What gift do you think the new mother would like best, Rhodey?" He asked the question cheerfully, his eyes starting to shine with a bright blue light.

Rhodey looked at the demon cowering away from the light, his face stretching into a smile that matched Tony's for glee. "She's always been fond of butterscotch."

As light poured out of him, Tony's voice began to clang like the ring of cathedral bells. The blue-white light turned searing as the demon began to scream. "I had another dish in mind."

The End

[fandomfanfics12]

We Are A Family-part 22

Title: We Are A Family. Pairings: Steve x tony, Peter x Wade, Nat x Clint, Sam x Bucky. Part: 22/? Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst, eventual smut, slowburn. Summary: When Nat comes into the avengers tower with baby Peter Parker, the avengers didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. But now that Peter is here,Steve and Tony both feel protective over him. It doesn’t help that Peter hates everyone other than Steve and tony. But as Steve and tony raise Peter, they start to fall for one another. Will this superfamily work out or will it all turn to hell? A/N: omg i updated without a six month gap? who am i? lol hope you guys enjoy this part, finally i get to include spideypool! this fic is turning out to be so much longer than i had originally anticipated but i enjoy writing it. hope you’re having a good week!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21

“I slept with Bucky.” It was like Tony’s brain short-circuited, every argument died on his lips.

“no you didn’t.” the words flew out of his mouth, an instantaneous response. Because Steve wouldn’t, he’d know that that would be the potential thing to truly end their relationship.

“Tony-“

“you didn’t, you wouldn’t have.” Tony ran a hand through his hair, his heart was pounding in his chest, something was wrong. Steve wouldn’t have, there was something wrong with Steve.

“Tony-“ but Tony cut him off again.

“because you love me, you chose me, you married me-“

“Maybe I shouldn’t have! Maybe this life with you and Peter was a mistake!” Steve snapped and Tony flinched. This didn’t make any sense, Tony couldn’t understand it.

“but in our vows you said you couldn’t imagine a life where you and I aren’t together.” Tony’s voice was so small, he was suddenly so tired of fighting.

“I know.”

“so why are you trying to make that the life we live in? why are you so determined to break this marriage?” Tony demanded, trying to stay calm. But Steve looked just fine, the guilt was quickly fading. He looked like a stone statue.

Steve could feel the guilt disappearing, he felt empty. He wanted to feel this guilt, wanted to fight for this marriage, wanted to hold Tony and tell his husband how much he loved him. Steve opened his mouth, ready to tell Tony how he truly felt, but it was like his mind hit a brick wall.

“People change Tony.”

“So you want to be with Bucky now?” No! Steve choked on the word, he looked down at the floor, not able to speak at all. It was like he was trapped in his own mind.

“Where’s Peter?” Steve asked instead, the only words he could manage.

“He’s with May.” Steve dragged his eyes up at Tony and his heart broke. Because Tony was trying so hard to fix things, and Steve was trying equally hard to ruin them.

It was horrible. Peter never wanted to be at home, the fighting between his dads was worse than ever now. They wouldn’t tell him what was going on, Aunt May swore she had no clue. The only real escape was school. Not that school was much of an improvement. Peter walked up to his locker in a half-comatose state. He was exhausted. He couldn’t sleep anymore, not with his dads arguing all through the night. His spidey sense kicked in a second before Wade Wilson tapped his shoulder. Peter spun around, a scowl on his face and brain suddenly awake. But Wade’s posse wasn’t around. Peter immediately relaxed.

“What do you want?” Peter asked dryly, the boys had stopped speaking years ago. Mainly because Wade was popular and interested in girls and partying. Peter was interested in neither of those. He’d been interested in Wade and hanging out with the Avengers. Wade was the only kid in the school who knew about Peter’s dads.

“Are you alright?” Wade was frowning and Peter took a deep breath. He felt a sudden urge to tell Wade everything, to spill his secrets in a way that once had been so easy. They had known everything about each other. Peter knew all about how Wade wished he’d gotten to know his father and how Wade had an unhealthy obsession with Wham! Make It Big, he knew that Wade’s favourite food was pizza and that Wade never had to study to pass a test.

“I’m fine.” He lied. There was once a time Peter could tell Wade everything, he didn’t even have to think about it. Being with Wade was as easy as breathing. Now being around Wade felt similar to drowning.

“you don’t look fine.” Was that worry? How could Wade still see through Peter’s lies, even after all these years?

“since when did you care about how I looked?” Peter demanded. He was surprised to see Wade flinch. Wade didn’t care, that had been made clear. Over the years, Peter had attempted to revive their friendship, Wade had slammed the door shut in his face.

“What’s going on Peter?” Wade’s voice was slightly softer and Peter turned back to his locker, squeezing his eyes shut. he missed Wade, but Wade was an asshole and they weren’t best friends anymore.

“Hey Peter, hey Wade.” Ned had the best timing.

“Ned could you give us a minute?” Wade asked and Ned smiled but Peter shot him a dark look.

“Uhh-“ Ned suddenly didn’t look so sure of himself. Peter and Wade had never really explained to anyone what had gone wrong. So Ned didn’t know whether to hate Wade or to simply be passive aggressive towards him.

“Was there a point to this conversation Wade?” Peter demanded and Wade frowned.

“Wilson get over here!” cue the posse. Peter heard Wade swear underneath his breath.

“I’ll talk to you later Peter.” Wade flashed them both a smile and then turned to go join his friends. He turned the corner and then Wade was gone.

“What was that about?” Ned asked and Peter shrugged.

“I dunno, but it’s not my place to care anymore.” Ned nodded his head.

“You look tired.” Even though Peter loved Ned, even though they were best friends, he didn’t tell Ned everything.

“I’m fine.” He lied, and Ned believed it.

Plates had been smashed, windows broken and house destroyed. Tony wasn’t exactly sure how the fight had escalated so quickly, but it had. It hadn’t been that big of a problem until Peter had come home, carrying a large stack of mail.

“hey Peter.” Tony smiled sheepishly and watched his son take in the house.

“Do you want me to stay with May?” Peter offered and Tony groaned.

“I hate this, you know that I hate this right?” Peter sighed and nodded.

“I know dad, I’ll go pack a bag.” Peter was shuffling through the mail and lifted up a fancy envelope.

“What’s that?” Tony asked, abandoning the chair he was trying to fix.

“It’s addressed to the three of us.” Peter said and opened the envelope. Tony peered over Peter’s shoulder, Clint and Natasha were getting married.

“finally.” Tony muttered.

“are you and pops getting a divorce?” Peter asked suddenly and Tony flinched.

“Of course not. This is just…” Tony trailed off and Peter stared down at the floor.

“the beginning of a divorce?” he asked and tony sighed.

“A rough patch.” He decided.

“You and pops have had rough patches before, this isn’t a rough patch. Tell me what’s going on.” Tony groaned.

“I want to kid, I honestly do…” but how did you tell your 17 year old that their father had been unfaithful?

“just tell me, I’m old enough that you should be telling me stuff.” Tony sighed and nodded his head.

“Steve and Bucky…” Peter’s eyes widened and Tony instantly regretted saying anything.

“You’re joking.” Peter’s instant disbelief was similar to what Tony had experienced.

“I really wish I was kid.” Peter squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.

“What are you going to do?” he asked and Tony shrugged, even though Peter wasn’t looking.

“I don’t know.”

“do you want a divorce?”

“No.”

“Does pops?”

“I don’t know.” Peter was taking this all surprisingly well.

“We’re going to be okay Peter.” Tony promised and Peter nodded.

“I know, you always make things better. I’m going to pack for May’s, alright?” Tony nodded his head.

“Alright.”

“Love you dad.”

“love you too.”

Steve was trying not to freak out. He told bucky that he had told tony. Told bucky that no matter how hard he tries, he always chokes on the words he means.

“Something isn’t right Steve…” Bucky trailed off, lost in thought.

“I know what you’re thinking and I’ve tried to tell Tony about the purple guy. I tried it this afternoon, but I couldn’t get the words out. I ended up throwing a chair across the room.” Bucky frowned.

“this is bad Steve, I don’t like being someone else’s puppet.” Steve wasn’t a fan of it either.

“Maybe you could tell someone. I can’t but maybe you can.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“I can try.”

Peter hated this. When he knocked at the door, May had been grinning. But the smile faded as soon as she noticed Peter.

“Another fight?” she asked and he nodded. She stepped aside and he could hear voices from the dining room.

“Who’s here?” Peter asked and May bit her lip.

“May? What’s going on? You know I can’t see, Wade what’s going on?” It was Al’s voice. Suddenly Peter wanted to turn around and run, this was now the last place he wanted to be.

“Peter just showed up.” Wade murmured and Peter wanted to disappear through the floor.

“I can just go-“ But May shook her head.

“Nonsense, i was just finishing up dinner.” May walked off to the kitchen.

“Peter how are you? I haven’t heard from you in ages, tell me what’s going on? How’s Steve and Tony?” Peter’s hands were shaking and Wade was staring at him with wide eyes.

“Fine.” Peter lied and Wade frowned but mercifully said nothing.

“That’s good, last time I spoke with Steve he was telling me how he and Tony were talking about adopting another kid. Are they still planning on that?” Peter had not known about that.

“I don’t know. I’m just going to dump my stuff in the guest room, I’ll be back.” Peter moved as quickly as possible. Once the bedroom door was closed, Peter leaned against it. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm down. Wade was here. He would have to sit through dinner and pretend like everything was fine, like his world wasn’t imploding. There was a knock on the other side of the door. Thinking it was May, Peter opened the door.

“What’s going on with you?” Wade demanded, Peter nearly slammed the door in his face.

“Nothing.”

“why won’t you talk to me?” Wade demanded.

“in case you hadn’t noticed, we haven’t exactly been friends in the past three years.” Wade winced slightly and it brought peter a sense of satisfaction.

“Ouch Peter, I guess I’d forgotten your ability to hit people right where it hurts.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“What are you even doing here?” Peter demanded, surely Wade knew that when their friendship ended, Peter got his aunt. Wade couldn’t have everyone.

“May invited us over. Why are you being such an asshole today?” Wade asked, tilting his head and studying Peter.

“Stop. Don’t make judgements about me, you don’t get to do that anymore.” Wade raised a brow.

“Did you get the invitation?” Wade asked and Peter’s brows furrowed.

“Invitation?” what was he on about?

“For Clint and Natasha?” they’d invited him to the wedding?

“Of course I received an invitation.” Peter grumbled.

“Are you going?” Wade asked and Peter inhaled sharply.

“Yeah, they’re practically my aunt and uncle.” Wade nodded.

“Well I’m going, and I’d rather we be civil. Even if only for that night.” Peter frowned.

“dinner!” May called out and Peter sighed.

“We should probably get back out there.” Wade nodded in agreement.

“Yeah.” But it looked like he had more to say. Peter waited patiently, preparing for whatever Wade had to say.

“You’ve really changed.” And with that, Wade went back to dinner.

Steve had somehow managed to organise a meeting where he, bucky and tony all sat down together. Finally Tony would find out about Steve’s vision.

“What’s this all about Steve?” Tony asked impatiently, Steve took a deep breath and nodded at Bucky. Bucky had been calm the entire time, ready to tell Tony what had happened. But when Bucky opened his mouth, he froze.

“Bucky?” Steve coaxed, his marriage depended on this.

“Steve belongs with me.” Bucky seemed to be fighting the words and Steve felt the blood drain from his face.

“Stop talking.” Steve pleaded but he knew it was too late. That Bucky wouldn’t be able to stop. He was as much a puppet as Steve was.

“What?” tony’s brows furrowed and steve’s heart broke. There was no way to tell tony, his marriage was over. Ruined. Steve couldn’t save it, he couldn’t undo this damage. He was a prisoner to his own mind, someone else was in control.

“Steve should be with me. We have been in love for a hundred years, surely you understand that we belong together?” Steve couldn’t believe this. Tony looked to Steve, there was so much pain in his husband’s eyes.

“Steve?” his voice was so soft and Steve knew Tony deserved better than this. He thought about their life, dancing with tony at the fundraiser, making cookies and lasagne, holding tony in his arms, their first kiss, raising peter together, buying this house, peter’s first day of school. He thought about all of their best moments. And with a deep breath, knew it was time to let it go.

“I think it’s time we get a divorce.” Tony squeezed his eyes shut. Steve studied Tony’s face, he couldn’t keep hurting Tony. He needed to figure out what was going on, and if he loved Tony, he needed to keep Tony out of the picture.

“okay.” Tony whispered.

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Shield Hero 20 - 22 | Sarazanmai 7 - 9 | BSD 32 - 34 | Fruits Basket 8 - 9 | Demon Slayer 8 - 10 | OPM 20 - 21

Shield Hero 20

Motoyasu getting dragged by Filo was funny…not enough to get a proper laugh though. Just a smirk or two.

Stop narrating and just get on with it, Naofumi and friends…!

“I was saying we should fight together all along.” (from Itsuki) – Were you, now…? (skeptical)

Ass-pull! I call “ass-pull” at the power to swallow the phoenix flame! Seriously, when did the dragon get the opportunity to teach Naofumi how to do that???

How did Naofumi not die after losing so much blood…?

What does the Q even stand for in the queen’s name…?

Sarazanmai 7

The seagulls…so fluffy…

For some reason, I expect a fakeout, but then it never arrives…these boys are really connecting…

I found some kappa croquette thingy online, but it referred to a “Shiki City” which probably isn’t in Asakusa…

The shirt…Kazuki’s shirt says “frog” but I get the feeling it also means “return”.

Shirohasu water. It’s Irohasu in Japan.

Was the lyric to Kawausoiya (the otter song) “gonna take ‘em”…?

Nice ET reference, Sara.

Balls…not just sport entendre, but…y’know. The sort of humour I don’t like as much.

Ooh…Keppi is shaping up to be the bad guy. But what plans does he have? Am I speculating too much and is he being framed? Hard to know until next time…

BSD 32

When Kyouka is eating the sundae, she looks like the Tofu Kyouka from Mayoi…hmm.

Can I confess something? Before I saw the illustrations for s2, I thought Louisa’s hair was much darker than what it is in the anime…hmmm, indeed.

I don’t think we were ever told (in the manga or the anime) what Louisa’s wish was…

This bit with Fyodor…I don’t think it was in the manga.

Subarashi-sou is a pun on “it seems wonderful”. That wasn’t in the manga, but it’s a great pun (because it’s right up my alley).

Fitz laughing at the neighbour’s TV wasn’t in the manga either, but that’s just the anime director’s humour peeking through.

“Blalack Daniel’s”, LOL.

Ohh…a quick Google reveals TJ Eckleberg is from the Great Gatsby. In there, he’s an eye doctor, but here, he’s an engineer.

George B Wilson is also from the Great Gatsby…Here be spoilers, but…George dies in his original work too.

Manhasset is a place in New York…I assume it’s connected to the Great Gatsby as well…

Oh yeah! Random Poe moment. That’s in the manga, so Igarashi (or whoever’s responsible for the terrible humour) doesn’t have to fake that bit.

Cue “Objection!” by Fitz, lemme guess. Even if I know the outcome and how it was done, I’d like to have my memory refreshed (by stabbing in the dark…and making an Ace Attorney joke in the process).

I already know, without googling, that Tom Buchanan is part of Great Gatsby as well…

Bank of Amerigo…LOL.

Fruits Basket 8

“If you show up for the banquet now…”

“The banquet sounds just like the folk tale!” Honestly, subbers, proofread…

Haa-kun and Haa-san. No distinguishing between them (aside from honorifics), even though they’re two completely different people.

Hatori’s squinty face was…hilarious, to put it simply.

Oh…I forgot the dance seems to be something the animal of the year does. So if Yuki was 3 years ago, it makes sense Momiji is doing it this year.

Best seat in the house for a sunrise, huh?

Kimetsu no Yaiba 8

I’ve seen Muzan being described as “Demon Michael Jackson” and now I can’t get that out of my head when I see him…sorry.

Tsukihiko, huh? It translates to “moon’s radiance” or something like that. That name is appropriate for a bad guy, isn’t it?

This is the first time I’ve really listened to the OST (aside from the OP and ED), so it’s…really something.

Ooh, I didn’t realise until now, but Ufotable even imitated the paper Jump is printed on with the next-ep previews…

OPM 2 8 (OPM 20)

Er…I haven’t mentioned it for the past few episodes, but Suiryu is hotttttttt. (No? I said that? Okay, next step.) That’s basically the only reason why I’m watching anymore…I can’t seem to find anyone who thinks positively of this tournament arc enough to do reviews of it that I can read, which has made my own opinion of this beloved series go down the drain…Also, if you weren’t aware, my taste lies not in Suiryu’s huge bulk, but rather in the fact he’s got long hair.

Didn’t Suiryu get pierced in the abs??? Where’s the blood coming from his injuries??? Update: He does have injuries there, they’re just not bloody…that’s all.

The main criticism for OPM 2 is the fact that it keeps cutting between different events, so it’s hard to follow. Well, I’ve had worse (see Concrete Revolutio) so that’s why I’m still here.

People say that clothing changes you – say if you put on a new outfit, you feel like a new person. (Of course, that’s all glamorising and praising consumption, but that’s beside the point here.) I think that’s what’s up with Max and Snek.

Shield Hero 21

“…the Shield Hero is worshipped.”

Really? Boob jiggle, at a time like this??? (Context: Malty is getting th slave crest painted on her.)

Wait, was there ever a Shield Church???

Okay, that felt like a real seasonal ending. What the heck is going to happen in the last few episodes, I wonder…?

Sarazanmai 8

Chikai knows the real meaning of YOLO…heh. I’m only kidding…

To be honest, I think I like Toi best out of the main trio. I tend to like the boys in blue…and no, I don’t mean the otter police.

Kazuki’s service provider is “Kappa Phone”, LOL.

When Reo held up the gun, I was yelling, “Enta! Get it for him!” (i.e. take the bullet) I didn’t expect him to actually do it…

…and here I thought tragic yuri was common enough and we don’t have enough Tragic Yaoi Dudes…

Notably, Toi was registered on Enta’s phone as “Kuji”, while Kazuki is registered as “Kazuki” (katakana) on Toi’s.

Shots fired…!

Update: I didn’t notice this, but the evil dude with kamome written behind him (I think it’s in this episode, but it might have been in the last one instead) must be based on a seagull…because that’s what kamome means.

Bungou Stray Dogs 33 (BSD S3 Ep 8)

I think it was around here I stopped reading the scans, because the series was picked up legally anyway…but I can see the death flags for a certain Port Mafia man…one who stands at the top.

As expected…butt shot. Igarashi (or whoever’s responsible for that shot) likes butts, so between this and Sarazanmai…*imagines image of kappa!Kazuki holding a shirikodama* There’s absolutely no buts about it (LOL), there’s no shortage of butts this season.

“To think that the rabbit being hunted would show its face…” – I think it’s hard for you to say that, Akutagawa, when you yourself have no face in that frame…

Why are both Akutagawa and Fyodor Naruto running today???

“So you’re doing this for that woman.”

What is “Mukurotoride”? I don’t seem to remember…maybe I never learnt what it was. Update: Apparently a tower in Dead Apple is called Mukurotoride.

Conspiracy time! This book sounds like Kunikida’s Ability…so imagine if it were under Dazai’s nose the entire time…

Fruits Basket 9

I love how the synopsis for this episode goes, “Kyo fights Yuki, Yuki fights a cold…”

Hatsuharu’s wearing such an ostentatious fluffy jacket…LOL, I love it.

Holy cow (LOL), I forgot how old Hatsuharu is…so that means he’s 15-ish, right?

Come to think of it…I see Fruits Basket characters in Ro Te O, which I started writing at about this time in 2013. The Azrael of that time was a hybrid of Hatsuharu, Ritsu and Ayame, Tetsuya is basically Yuki and Ryou is Kyou…hmm.

Apparently, Shigure had in the 2001 anime a song that went like, “High school girls, high school girls, cute high school girls for me.” So that’s where it was??? (Context: I haven’t seen Fruits Basket 2001, but read the entire manga.)

Kimetsu no Yaiba 9

Recap time, recap time…so the lady’s in the back room and Tanjiro conveniently forgets the man is in the basement…? Wuh?

Moya was complaining about how repetitive this show can get when it comes to the script (i.e. it repeats itself because it doesn’t trust its audience, but I think that’s because this is originally serialised on TV week by week that people may forget if they’re not bingeing, taking notes or following the manga). I’ll talk more about that in my KnY collab post, I guess…

When Yushiro said “watch your back”…he really meant it, huh?

Temari are the balls, but kemari is when you kick the balls.

“…the eyeballs on his hands are creepy.” – LOL.

Shield Hero 22

The ep title just says “Hero Council”…not specifically that there are 4 of them.

My stream’s been buffering more than usual, so I went “like mother, like daughter” before Naofumi did…

It would’ve ben massively funny to hear Melty call Malty either “Trash” or “B****”…especially the last one, because that’s always a fun way to end a sentence (especially for a girl as young as her). Update: She does, but the way she does it isn’t as funny as I thought it would be (and she doesn’t end her sentence with her sister’s new name).

Wait, I thought they got rid of her slave pact??? I thought it was only for the duration of her trial that she needed it for.

L’Arc and that lady seem like they’re foreshadowing for later…hmm. Update: The next-episode synopsis says “yes”. So does that new visual.

Sarazanmai 9

I can’t believe this show’s almost over…That means I gotta get a move on with RobiHachi, but to be honest? Non-anime things are probably going to kep me busy until…a few days from now. So I’ll get RobiHachi watched then.

Characetrs are dying en masse in this episode, aren’t they??? I saw a spoiler that (well, SPOILER) Chikai’s gonna die, but I don’t know about Enta or Keppi…Update: To be honest, I thought Chikai was going to become the next monster – a gun monster, perhaps. Maybe now that I’ve finished the episode, he’ll become a real zombie. (Hey, see what I did there with the bolding…? How’s that for hiding spoilers, eh???)

Oh yeah…I forgot Enta’s sister was Kazuki’s teacher…

There was a sign behind Masa that said”Hinode Asakusa” – “hi no de” meaning roughly “under the sun” or “leaving the sun”.

Tokarev…? The gun? Gun monster, maybe? Is this a critique of the American gun…(exaggerated voice) Nah, can’t be…this is Japanese.

Lionel…Lionel…for some reason, that name in relation to soccer seems familiar...I just can’t put my finger on who it reminds me of, though. Update: Is it, perhaps, Messi…? Yes, I think that’s the guy I was thinking of…!

Aw…I’m not crying, you are…But these words were running through my head before Toi chucked the bag of money away and yelled, “F***!”: “Everything I do, I do it for you.” Isn’t that cute…?

Bungou Stray Dogs 34

“…one by one?” Junban means “sequentially”, so I don’t see why you have to use the phrase “one by one”. Or “one at a time” would also work.

Hardbank…to contrast Softbank (a phone company in Japan).

Face-stealing aliens strike again…(re: Atsushi)

Oh flip. This reminds me of my Kunikida fic…yeah, I bet you don’t remember it.

Hey, this dude! Apparently he’s from one of Kunikida’s stories. I really am approaching the end of what I know of canon…*gulp* Update: Oops, we already passed that part…

I wonder if the real Fyodor could play cello…? Or is this just a thing to make him ominous and villanous…?

The cross on the wall behind Kunikida…makes this show more like Eva than Kekkai Sensen…exquisite. Absolutely exquisite, isn’t it?

Another cool cross, behind Tanizaki!

What’s a tatamigatana? Also, I didn’t know other people could be synchronised using Doppo Poet and Ranpo’s deduction…

Does Kouyou mean (by “the one I most despise”)…Chuuya? Or herself? It’s definitely not Ace.

Kimetsu no Yaiba 10

Headpats for Yushiro as well! Headpats for everyone!

There’s a lot of Tanjiro being terrified in this episode…

Wait…Kizuki? I thought they were the 12 Moons? (Well, “tsuki” means “moon”, but then what’s the “ki”?) Update: The “ki” means “demon”, so the Kizuki are the 12 Demon Moons.

Being alone with the body…that’s always a scary thought in murder mysteries…for the people who dissect them to determine the cause of death, that is.

Considering the name of the episode is “Together Forever”…nup, I don’t see Nezuko and Tanjiro separating anytime soon…

The Kasugai crow is what happens when you can’t turn off your Google Assistant…or GPS…or Siri.

If Tanjiro knows the name of his crow, how do the crows get their names? Do their trainers (is that the right term for a crow breeder in this case…?) give them names?

OPM S2 Ep 9 (Ep 21)

LOL, that one shot of the ants…JC Staff really don’t care about this series, do they…?

I kinda forgot about Genos after a bit more than a week…sorry, I was watching other anime in between. (More than usual, at least. I started playing Chibi Tamago – a forum game for AniList where you collect badges for watching anime - that’s why.)

Did he (Pri-Pri Prisoner)…store his phone in his butt…?

[hellomissmabel]

Nuit Blanche Part 2

MASTERLIST

Pairings: alpha!captain!Steve x omega!detective!reader, alpha!sergeant!Bucky x omega!detective!reader

Warnings: This part contains mentions of nudity and a reference to sex.

Word count: 3k

Summary: Y/N is a police detective with the NYPD. She is trying to catch a killer, one that has his mind set on murdering successful women in the showbizz. But what happens if she unwillingly becomes a target herself?

A/N: Written for @justareader and based on the song Mama Do by Pixie Lott.

Series masterlist can be found here

Lieutenant Fury gave immediate orders to place you in a safe house and put sergeant Barnes in charge of your safety. As he was guiding you outside to his car so he could drive you to the safe house, you gazed over your shoulder at Sam who tried to give you a reassuring smile. Yet his attempt was unsuccessful, as Sam knows very well they are nowhere near finding the killer.

“Where are you taking me?,” you asked James as he fires up the engine and speeds away from the police station.

He grimaces at your question, but doesn’t reply. Instead, he deflects the subject with another question. “Have you called Steve yet to let him know Pepper died?”

He will probably not tell you the exact location of the safe house, but you can keep an eye out for any sign of where you are and memorise them for in case of emergency. Shaking your head, you fish out your phone to dial Steve’s number yet Bucky grabs your phone and tosses it on the back seat. “No private calls, Y/N! You know the procedure. You can call with the burner phone in the bag at your feet.”

“You will have to let me switch off my phone first, if you really want my location to remain a secret,” you retort with a challenging look, clenching your jaw.

James drives the car to the side of the road, near a gas station, and reaches for your phone on the back seat. He switches it off instantly and nods towards the bag. With a deep sigh you take out the phone and calls Steve’s number. The Captain picks up right away as he just got home from his shift.

“Hi, Y/N, babe, I’ve picked up some veggies from the grocery store so I can make your favourite salad.”

“That’s really sweet of you, Steve, but I’m afraid something’s come up.”

You can already imagine Steve’s entire body tensing up, and his voice is just as stern as you imagine his expression will be. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” There’s a little hesitation in your voice, James’ eyes scrutinising your every word. “Pepper is dead.”

There’s a moment of silence when on Steve’s end of the line you hear nothing, James averts his eyes and gets out of the car to give you some privacy. “Steve… Sergeant Barnes is taking me to a safe house. I don’t know for how long but I trust Sam and he will do his very best to catch whoever is killing these women.”

“It’s my fucking fault,” Steve lashes out, not at you but as himself. He blames himself for everything that’s happened to you. He wanted to be Captain, he wanted to be an alpha and he pushed you to give those television and radio interviews that most likely made you a mark.

“No, that’s not true, Steve. You are not to blame for this.” Taking a deep breath, you assure him everything will be okay. The wretched tone to his already shaky voice breaks your heart even more than saying goodbye to him does. “I’ll keep in touch. This number is a burner so James will most likely dispose of it later. And I guess the phone at the safe house will be a blocked number as well, so you’ll have to wait until I call you…”

You expect him to express his concern for you some more, to ask you if there’s no other way to contact you and make sure you’re fine. Instead, a little green monster named jealousy peaks around the corner. “James, huh?” You bite your lip in anguish of what will follow. “So you’re on a first-name base with him already?”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try to talk some sense into your boyfriend. You tell yourself it’s just the hormones that he is acting out like this. “James and I met in police academy, you know that, Steve, long before you and I met.”

“I don’t care, Y/N. What I care about now is your fucking safety and I don’t trust you’ll be safe in the hands of an old lover.”

Just as you’re about to lose your patience and snap back at Steve, Bucky knocks on your window and gives a sign that you’ve run out of time. “Steve, I don’t wanna end our conversation here. I am in capable hands. You’re not thinking clearly because you’re so worried. I’ll try to call you this evening, around 8 p.m., would that work for you?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, alright. I love you, Y/N. I’ll miss you,” Steve mumbles softly but you have no doubt that he means it. After another “I love you more” and an additionally “I love you the most” from Steve.

Once Bucky notices you’ve finished, he climbs back into the car and takes out the sim card of the phone, throwing it out of the window once you’re well on the road again. “How was your talk?”

Rubbing your temples in frustration, you decide against feeding James lies and smiling at him how everything’s fine. “Steve’s not all too happy.”

Bucky hands you a cup of hot coffee and you smile gratefully at the brunet whose eyes soften at your admission. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“He’s doesn’t like it that you’re the one escorting me to the safe house.” Sipping from the cup, you taste it’s in fact not coffee but hot chocolate and your smile grows a little bigger. “Thanks for the hot cocoa.”

Refraining himself from commenting on Steve’s remark, Bucky waits until you finish your drink and your eyes grows heavy, to talk to you about something that’s been on his mind for some time now. “Y/N? Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure,” you mumble through the tired daze you’re emerged in. Suddenly it feels like all you want to do is sleep for days.

Bucky swipes on his phone and presses the recording button. “Y/N, how well do you know your partner, Sam Wilson?”

“Euhm,” you murmur even softer as your mind puzzles together what’s happening to you. You’ve only felt this way once before, when you had surgery on your knee after you’ve been shot. You were so hazy from the anaesthesia you slept for days and still felt groggy when you got discharged.

“Sam and I were in police academy together. I don’t know much about his family, though I do know he’s got a girlfriend back in Los Angeles.”

“Los Angeles?,” Bucky repeats, a slight tone of surprise lacing his voice. “Was Sam born in the City of Angels?”

“Yeah,” you confirm and your hand reaches for the bottle of water next to you, but you can’t move it anymore. “Bucky, what’s happening? Yes, yes, he was born in Los Angeles.” You turn your head to look at him and see his emotionless face, staring straight ahead at the road. “Bucky, all I know is that Sam was born in LA and came to New York after his father committed suicide.”

“I see…,” he replies gloomily and stops recording when your lights go out and your body slumps into the car seat. Maybe he did use too much sedative, but at least he got from you what he wanted.

***

You wake up in a strange bed, still wearing your clothes but not your jacket anymore. Your headache is killing you but there’s aspirin on the bedside table, probably put there by Bucky. After you’ve downed the medication with a glass of water, you try to get up. With wobbly feet you descend the stairs and make your way to the kitchen where Bucky’s cooking dinner.

“You drugged me,” you snap at him and the sergeant turns around with a regretful look in his eyes, confirming your suspicions. “Why? Where are we? This can’t be a safehouse, it’s too…” You point at the large television, the leather couch in the living room and the numerous paintings. “Luxurious to be a safehouse. So where are we?”

“Calm down, Y/N. Sit. Food will be served in ten.”

Angered by Bucky’s seemingly casual reaction, you push his chest repeatedly until the small of his back hits the kitchen counter. “Where. Are. We?” Each word is accompanied by another, hard shove. “Fuck you, Bucky.”

He holds his hands up in the air. “Okay, okay. We’re in my vacation home. It’s a lake house, an hour away from the city by car.”

“Why did you bring me here? There are plenty of safe houses in the city. Why go through all this trouble?”

Bucky keeps an eye on his food while motioning for you to sit down on one of the chairs while he sits across from you. “Because I’ve got a theory and you’re not gonna like it. When you were out, I made a few calls and received some disturbing information.”

Folding your hands in your lap, you nod for Bucky to continue. “What kind of disturbing things? About the case I’m working on?”

He gestures to a file at the other end of the counter. You take it in your hands and open it, scanning the pages with a curious gaze. “I don’t understand. This is Sharon’s report on Pepper’s body. There’s a lot of red in here but I don’t’ see any anomalies.”

“I highlighted a couple interesting paragraphs, namely the time of death and the DNA on her body. You see, Pepper’s body was found two hours after Camila’s body was found. But according to Sharon’s report, they died around the same time. Midnight. How is it possible that Pepper was murdered at midnight but still managed to show up at your house in the morning?”

You shrug and read the rest of Sharon’s report. Folding the map closed and sliding it back to Bucky, you release a shaky sigh. “That’s impossible.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Bucky gets up from his seat and checks his pan, deciding dinner is ready. While plating up the chicken breast and vegetables, he asks you to help him get the cutlery. “Y/N, where you there when Pepper supposedly came round?”

“No.” You shake your head and watch Bucky cut the chicken breast in two. “I called Steve at nine, because Pepper usually leaves around that time. He said I’d just missed her.”

The brunet tells you to dig in and hopes you enjoy the food. Taking the first bite, you are surprised by Bucky’s cooking skills. “This is actually really good, very moist.”

He blushes and mumbles a shy thank you. “Still mad that I drugged you? I couldn’t risk you knowing where we were going, Y/N, I hope you understand that. If Steve really has something to do with these murders…”

“Steve lied to me, yes, but that doesn’t mean he killed all those women,” you dismiss the matter right away. Staying silent for a few moments, you remember Bucky also said something about DNA evidence.

He clears his throat, letting the subject of your forgiveness slide for a little while longer. “They found semen on her body that belonged to an unknown male. No match was found in our database. But…”

There’s obviously something weighing on Bucky’s chest and you are determined to find out what it is. After some probing and eating your dinner in an uncomfortable atmosphere, Bucky reveals that Pepper was pregnant. “The father is Tony Stark. He’s paparazzi and fits the profile you and Sam came up with.”

Shocked to hear that Pepper was with child when she was murdered, you put down your knife and fork and hold a hand in front of your mouth while rushing to the kitchen sink to puke out your chicken. Bucky is soon joining your side to hold up your hair and places a soothing hand on your back until you’ve finished throwing up.

He hands you a tissue to wipe your mouth with and smiles sadly. “I’m sorry. You were close with her, right?”

“I knew she was seeing someone but that’s it. I didn’t talk to her much. She was there for Steve, not me.” Throwing the tissue in the bin, you lean some more into Bucky who has his arm wrapped around your waist. “So they think it’s Tony? That killed her? But what about the other DNA?”

“I called Sam and he’s ready to make an arrest.” His blue eyes burn into yours and make you feel a bit uneasy.

There’s that tension again, the same tension between an omega in her heat and an alpha ready to breed. It’s a strange sensation, one you never feel when Steve’s in his rut even though you have sex every hour. Yet with Bucky, even though you’ve never slept with him, his touch is enough to set your entire skin ablaze.

“It’s too easy. He didn’t do it. We gotta find a DNA match,” you conclude while taking a step back from Bucky, creating more distance and instantly regretting your decision of leaning into his touch. He’s too intoxicating. “Did you ask me about Sam? Back in the car, before I passed out? Or did I imagine it all?”

“No, you’re right,” Bucky replies dryly. “I was just distracting you. If I didn’t, you would’ve figured out what I did really quickly and I couldn’t risk it.”

“I see,” you mumble under your breath, not entirely convinced by his answer. “So what are your thoughts on the killer?”

“I’m sorry to bring this up again, Y/N, but Steve…”

“Steve has nothing to with this!,” you yell back at the blue-eyed sergeant.

“Then why would he lie?!,” Bucky screams back, his voice carrying further than yours because he’s an alpha. It sends shivers down your spine, your omega nature prompting you to take on a more submissive position as soon as the words leave his lips.

Bucky notices the change in your demeanour and with a frustrated groan he cards his hands through his hair, messing it up and releasing the same heat inducing hormones you’ve been taking suppressants for this entire time. Only now, you didn’t take your daily dose, as you always administer them around lunchtime and you were still asleep then.

“Shit, Bucky…” Black spots are obscuring your vision, your throat burning and your mouth refusing to swallow. “You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t have done that…”

Again he’s fast to react and he scoops you up in his arms, carrying you to the living room couch and laying you down. “I don’t have any suppressants here, but I can help you, Y/N. If you give me your consent, I can mark you and all this will be over in a minute.”

“No,” you refuse weakly, your voice strangled as your vision turns even more blurry. “I’m with Steve…”

He cups your face in his hands and forces you to look at him. “Y/N, listen to me carefully. I am convinced that Steve has something to do with this. Think about it, he is a public figure, just like those women. He must’ve met them in hotels or in bars and seduced them. He’s also a cop, so he’s got a trustworthy position in society. They would never have seen it coming. I just need a sample of his DNA to prove it.”

“No way.” You continue to stand your ground, squirming on the leather couch in an attempt to push Bucky away again. But he’s much stronger than you and you know just as much as he does that there’s only one way to stop you from going into heat.

It’s a tough decision, and you will never be able to forgive yourself, but your life is on the line and you will make him promise to never tell Steve about this. “Give me your knot, Alpha,” you say in a determined voice, not the voice of a desperate omega, but an omega that has found an alpha worthy of her affection.

Bucky’s eyes widen at this sudden turn of events, but after careful consideration he nods and helps you take off your clothes, stripping you to your underwear. “It’s a temporary solution, Y/N, but I understand why you’re asking me to do this.”

“If you mark me as yours, Steve will never speak to me again.”

“Still convinced he’s innocent, hm?,” Bucky growls while undressing as well.

He crawls on top of you, gingerly pulling on the waistband of your panties. “Have you ever been with another man but Steve?,” he asks you tentatively.

Biting your lip so hard you almost draw blood, you confess you’ve never even been with Steve either. “It’s not that he doesn’t want to,” you try to defend him, but Bucky sees through your excuses.

When you’re both fully naked and nerves rage through your body, you explicitly give Bucky your consent again. His reassuring yet predatory smile, accompanied by that needy and dark look in his eyes, cause his next words to resonate even louder in your mind, heat pooling in the pit of your stomach.

“I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with him, but if I had a woman like you sleeping next to me, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off her.”

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