#i’m given a bunch of responsibilities and they only just finally relented and gave me a couple more hours to get them done

[stonesandswords]

.

[snlhostharry]

try try again

harry x reader

2.2k words 

summary: harry wants to propose, but life keeps getting in the way 

a/n: first off... I suck at titles... why am I like this.... second off this is my secret santa gift for @jambrosemc ! happy holidays em! hope you like this, you are a super talented writer I just binged all your pieces and I am obsessed. and thank you to @peeterparkr for hosting 

The first time he tries is after the first concert he does for Fine Line. 

Fine Line at the Forum is a success in all the ways that matter, and Harry is so happy coming off the stage that he almost forgets about his plan to propose all together. When you barge into his dressing room after the show is over, smiling and ecstatic for him he suddenly sees the ring box on the counter and rushes to shove it in his pocket before you can see it. 

“That was insane, love,” You say wrapping him into a hug. “I think they really liked it.” 

He gives you a cheeky smile, “You think?” You roll your eyes in response, “What gave it away?” He asks, “The frantic screaming or the bra’s that were thrown onto the stage?” 

“You should’ve kept a couple,” You tease, “They could’ve been my size.” 

He laughs, “If you want one that bad I will buy it for you.” 

“I’m holding you to that,” You say, taking a seat on top of the counter. He runs a hand through his hair, knowing that this would be the perfect moment to just get down on one knee. He can see himself doing it, simply bending down and saying the words he’s wanted to say for what feels like forever. “You okay?” You ask him, seeing the look on his face and supposing that he’s thinking about something that happened during the concert. “You did a great job out there, seriously. Everyone really loved it H, the album is spectacular.” 

He shakes himself back into the moment, “I know, I know.” He says, and it comes off a little sharper than he means it too, he’s just very much in his own head about this whole thing now. What felt like it would be the perfect moment now feels wrong, like doing it now would cheapen the entire thing. He sighs, “Sorry,” He says, planting himself down on the floor dramatically, “Thank you.” 

“We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to,” You tell him, guessing that he’s just tired from a long night. “Let’s get takeout and go home, or go home and get takeout whichever order.” 

He smiles, “You ate before the show.” 

“That was like three hours ago, and it was a snack, I always planned on eating again, and you were too nervous to eat before the show.” 

He hugs his knees to his chest, “Watching you eat an entire kids meal in under five minutes actually helped with the nerves.” 

You shrug, “What can I say? I have my moments.” 

He stands and presses a kiss to your forehead as you swing your legs over the side of the counter. “You have a lot of moments, I love you.” 

“Love you too,” You wait a second before asking, “So home then?” 

He thinks about it for a minute, “Yeah.” 

“When you call in the food order make sure you put it under my name,” You tell him and he collects his things from the room, “People are beginning to get suspicious when I go into the restaurant to pick up an order for Harry.” 

He nods, and gently grabs your hand as the two of you leave. Maybe he’s not going to do it tonight, but he’s more resolved to actually pop the question than ever. He’s just so in love with you that he wants the whole thing to be perfect, and for some reason he has it all in his head that it needs to be a story that the two of you can tell in the future, something meaningful, he just has absolutely no idea what that is. 

The second planned attempt is a lot more off the cuff. 

You insist on throwing him a birthday party at the house, saying something about wanting to one up your sister who threw a very tasteful christmas party that the two of you went to. Not that your sister was invited seeing as the party was in London, but you knew that there would be enough pictures that she would see that you’re just as good as she is. Harry doesn’t understand it at all, but he decides that he doesn't even want to know how a rivalry like that can develop and leaves it alone. 

Objectively, you throw a very nice party. Of course Harry makes it a point to tell you this as often as possible without seeming overly invested in it, because he loves you and he wants you to be proud of your own work just like you want him to be proud of his. It’s hard for him to leave your side at all because he loves to see you talk to his friends and family and seem so happy to do it. You fit right in with everyone and he’s so grateful for that, and it’s as he’s standing there watching you talk to people that it hits him that this could be his moment. 

Not in front of everyone because that would be so much more pressure than he needs, but he thinks that after when everyone has finally left the house that he could catch you in the middle of cleaning or something and gently ask you to marry him. He decides that tonight, that’s the plan and he spends the rest of the night just thinking about that. It really is a great party, full of all his favorite things and people, it’s one of those nights where he feels like he loves you so much that his heart might just burst out of his chest. 

When finally every last guest has left the house, and things are a bit messy, he can’t seem to find you anywhere. He locks the door behind him, and starts walking through the house calling your name. He checks upstairs, in the kitchen, in all the bathrooms, and nothing. Until finally he walks into the living room and finds you sound asleep on the couch, snoring loudly enough that he’s surprised he didn’t hear it while he was looking. He looks at you and just smiles, suddenly completely fine with the fact that another plan has been ruined. He simply picks you up and takes you to bed, well aware he’s going to have to move onto plan C if he ever wants to get this done. 

The next time he tries, you end up surprising him. 

Plan C is a nice candlelight dinner at the house, which Harry tried to cook but ended up burning so eventually he relented and ordered food before putting it all together. Of all the plans he had come up with thus far, this one seemed the most foolproof. Everything was already planned: he knew you were going to come home from work at a certain time, he knew that there wouldn't be any distractions, and he had psyched himself up enough that he wasn’t just going to forget about the whole thing like he did the first time.

When the entire table is set up and the ring is in his pocket, he sits waiting for you to come home. He thinks about getting up to change some of the place settings just a little, but when he does he hears the clicking sound of your key in the door and sits back in his seat. After you walk into the house and set your stuff down in the entryway, Harry hears the sound of your shoes on the floor as you excitedly run into the kitchen. When you make it to where he can see you, he sees that you have a megawatt smile on your face and a large box in your hands. 

“I have a surprise,” You say, keeping a firm hold of the box. 

“I suppose it’s in that box,” He says, leaning over the chair so that he can see. 

You roll your eyes but keep smiling, “Yeah, obviously.” 

“Do you want me to guess?”

“God no,” You say, “That would take way too long. Basically I was at work today, and Mark has been producing this piece about a no kill animal shelter for a new segment about everyday heroes or whatever which is gross because puff pieces but when the woman came in to do the interview she brought in all these cats, no dogs for some reason, but anyway so we were all playing with the cats because our job is stressful and cats, and then she was like ‘you guys seem so good with these cats, they are looking for homes and-” 

He looks at you with a wide eyed expression, “You didn’t.” 

You ceremoniously walk over to the table, open the box and pull a small orange cat into your arms, “You bet your ass I did.” You gently pet the cat, which mews quietly from your arms, “She does not have a name mostly because I couldn’t think of any.” 

“We talked about pets like a week ago, briefly.” 

You give a guilty smile, “Yeah but I felt like I really needed this cat. I live here now, we live here, and I finally feel like I’m settled-” You sit down at the table and sigh, “I think I might be nesting, which is kind of gross but I don't know. I love you, and I love being here and I finally feel stable enough to get a freaking cat so that’s the explanation I have.” 

He can’t stop himself from breaking into a smile, even though he knows his plans have been thwarted again. (He thinks later, after the moment has already passed that he very well could’ve done it right then and there after you’d given a whole speech about the two of you being stable). He shakes his head after looking at you making funny faces at the cat like it’s a child, “Okay hand her over.” 

You hand her over and say, “I will not accept any names that have to go with the fact that she’s a ginger, because that’s just lame.” 

“Well seeing as those were my only ideas-”

You sigh, “We will think of something, just not now because you got dinner and I’m starving.” 

“What’s she going to eat?”

“I got food and a bowl, and a bunch more things being delivered within the next week or two.” 

“Did you go out and buy a box just for the dramatic reveal?”

“Yes, I did and it was totally worth it.” 

The cat’s name ends up being Hillary, after you discover an affinity for pet names that are usually person names. Something about the way you’ll end up talking about Hillary in polite conversation and someone will have to ask you who that is makes you want to choose it overall. Even though Harry is not sure about the sudden change at first, he soon becomes best friends with Hillary, and you often find the two of them cuddled up together on the couch. She likes to listen to him play music just as much as you do as it turns out. 

Harry is still trying to think of a way to propose. So much time has passed since he bought the ring, and the first time that he planned to pop the question that he wonders if he’ll ever find the right time to do it or if you’ll just end up asking him one day because it’s all gone too far. One afternoon when the two of you are relishing a rare shared day off, he watches you cook lunch in the kitchen and decides that now is the time to do it. No more excuses, no more surprises, just him and you and the question on the tip of his tongue for too long. 

When you put all of the food on plates, and set them out on the counter he walks over and just looks at you. It weirds you out at first so you ask, “What? Is there something on my face?” 

He gets down on one knee and you still are very confused about what he’s doing. You open your mouth to ask him, but the realization suddenly hits you and you cover your mouth with your hands. 

“y/n,” He says, “I have been waiting to ask you this for what feels like forever. And everytime that the plan fell through you somehow managed to make me want to marry you even more. I love you so much, I love everything about you, how excited you get about your work, how much you love Hillary and how supportive you are whenever I do anything. I love our life here, and I want to be with you forever. Will you marry me?” 

You don’t say anything for a second, still shocked, “Yes of course.” He stands and kisses you, slipping the ring onto your finger. “I was wondering when you would ask me.” 

“You knew?”

“I saw it that night after the forum,” You say, “I figured you got nervous.” 

“And you just let me flounder here for almost six months?” 

“Yes,” You smile, “I figured you wanted to do it on your own terms.” 

“Next time just call me out love, because I sat on this for too long.” 

[ladybugout-au]

Marinette placed the final box of baked goods on the stack, pulling up the strings she'd set underneath them so she could tie everything together. "Alright! That should do it!" She put her hands on her hips, looking proud of herself, though faltered as she realized, "Oh, but what if there aren't enough options? What if they have an allergy?"

"That was everything your parents could part with," Tikki reminded her.

Marinette whined. "I know. They're kind of leftovers too, but I didn't want to just swoop in as Ladybug and go hey, I have some new heroes I'm meeting, do you mind if I buy some of your baked goods for them because I know they would've insisted that I take a bunch of the fresh stuff for free." Rubbing the back of her head, she gave a one-armed shrug. "It was just easier to ask for anything that was still good but they didn't want to sell exactly."

"I guess so," Tikki hummed, though it was obvious that she didn't really get it. Marinette supposed that a kwami couldn't really understand the value of money and briefly imagined Tikki with a tiny purse of coins.

Shaking her head of any amusement that brought, she walked over to her mirror, feeling her face and checking the tightness of her pigtails holders. "Tikki, how's my hair look?"

"Won't your hair just go back to perfectly-brushed pigtails when you transform anyway?" Tikki asked.

Marinette supposed she was right. Thanks to her transformation, many a Parisian had been saved from seeing their hero sporting a bedhead during early morning akuma battles.

"...Alright," she decided, carefully undoing her hair ties and fluffing up her hair. "In that case, hair down it is."

Tikki blinked, flying over to ask, "What do you mean?"

Marinette glanced at her in the mirror. "Because then I can at least feel like I'm doing my hair up for it! I have to look nice!"

A tilt of the head was her response. "It's not that I'm not happy that you're taking this so seriously, but why the fuss?"

Gasping, almost in offense, Marinette replied, "I have to make a good first impression! I'm Ladybug, and they need to know that I appreciate them being here!"

"Marinette," Tikki said steadily, waving her arms out to gesture at her. "They already know Ladybug. I'm sure—"

"But not like this!" Marinette retorted, standing straight and raising a finger as she made her point. "I want them to feel welcome and like they can come to me for advice on fighting or keeping their identities a secret!" She hesitated, then dropped her gaze to the ground and added nervously, "I-I mean, I know I might not the best at those, but I can still try, right?"

Tikki moved immediately in front of Marinette's face, using her tiny paws to raise her chin up. Flying a small distance away, she assured, "You're a great Ladybug! I'm sure they'll appreciate you no matter what happens!"

Marinette smiled at that, at least feeling a little more mentally prepared to face the new heroes now. "Thanks, Tikki." She turned, facing the boxes of baked goods again and readying herself. She stepped towards them, paused, then scratched her cheek sheepishly as she asked, "But seriously though, do you think these will be enough?"

"Marinette!"

"Okay, okay, I'm going! Let's go!"

——-

Ladybug could feel Chat Noir following her only five minutes after she'd left the house, though was aware that it wouldn't exactly be hard to see her - despite the extra black she'd added to her bodysuit at the start of her blog - with all the boxes she was carrying. That was fine with her, as she'd needed him to be nearby anyway; they were still partners, after all.

As she landed on the rooftop she'd agreed to meet everyone at, she heard Chat Noir landing behind her. He announced his presence with an amused, "Setting up a picnic, m'lady?"

She raised a brow at him. "You could say that. The new heroes should be arriving in—" She pulled out her yoyo to check the time, realizing just how long she'd spent fretting over her first impression. "—uh, soon. Very, very soon."

At least she still got there first, she figured.

"New heroes?" Chat inquired, his flirtatious tone disappearing. "I didn't know they'd be here tonight."

"I messaged you before I left," she pointed out, purposefully leaving out the detail of the kwami group chat. She idly wondered if Plagg could be bribed into sending her flirty messages from Chat.

"I saw," he insisted with a bow, "which is why I hurried to you so you could tell me what it was about in person!"

She had no comment on that, too busy setting the boxes out and checking to make sure the baked goods hadn't been jostled on her way there. Chat Noir sat down next to her, helping himself to one of the sweets and not making any comment about the bakery logo on the box, probably as they'd saved said bakery quite a few times, so it wouldn't be weird to know it enough to buy from there.

The moment her yoyo confirmed that it was time for the other heroes to show up, Ladybug heard the sound of someone landing on the rooftop. She glanced up, seeing the bee hero standing there with an air of professionalism hovering around her.

"Ladybug. Chat Noir," she greeted formally, giving them each a nod.

Ladybug stood up with a start when she realized that she was still sitting near the boxes. "Hello!" She walked over, extending a hand out to her. "Glad you could make it."

The bee hero gave her a nod, accepting the offer for a handshake. "Of course. This is my job after all. It would have reflected poorly on me if I hadn't shown up on time."

Ladybug beamed. She was far different from the "original" bee hero, but that wasn't a bad thing, and she was looking forward to seeing what it'd be like to have another serious person on the team.

The turtle hero then landed nearby, though Chat Noir was too preoccupied with approaching the bee heroine, even taking her hand in his despite her flat expression. She tried to shake his hand like she did with Ladybug, only to realize that apparently wasn't his intent.

"I guess we'll beekeeping you on the team for a while now?" Chat asked. "It'll be a pleasure working with you."

He bent down, placing a kiss on the back of her hand. She pulled away from it, raising a brow at him while Chat stilled and looked confused.

"Uh—" the turtle hero cut in, finally earning Chat's attention. Ladybug watched as the turtle hero seem to fidget in place before pointing at the hand kiss display that had just occurred. Tentatively, he asked, "He's not going to do that with everyone, right? I'm—I'm dating someone."

Chat's face turned red with embarrassment, his body immediately recoiling from the bee heroine. Ladybug covered her mouth with both hands in an attempt to hide her chuckle, though it was difficult.

She waited until she was calm to approach the turtle hero, offering her hand for her second handshake of the day. "Glad you could make it."

He smiled, happily shaking her hand with a simple reply of, "Thanks." Then, glancing over her head, he asked, "Are you a new hero too?"

She presumed he was talking to the bee until she turned around, jumping in surprise as she noticed the fox hero standing nearby. She hadn't even heard him land, but supposed it made sense for a fox.

"Hey," he greeted casually. "Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt when you were talking to everyone else."

"O-oh, it's okay!" she assured, hoping it wasn't too embarrassing that she'd been caught off guard. She approached, sharing her last handshake with him. "And now that everyone's here, we can get introductions out of the way! You're...?"

"Cadmeancio," he replied with a calm smile. "I hope I'll be able to help you, Ladybug."

She smiled back, then glanced to the turtle hero. "And you?"

He stood proud, both arms up like he was flexing despite his sheepish expression. "Heavy Matal."

Ladybug turned to the bee heroine, who understandably predicted the question and answered before she could get it out, "Fukiya."

"Alright, so Fukiya—" Ladybug pointed at her, then the other two heroes as she continued, "—Heavy Matal, and Cadmeancio."

The three nodded at her. She couldn't help feeling a tinge of excitement; she had new team members now, and they were permanent holders that she wouldn't have to go out of her way to give miraculouses to.

Sitting down on the rooftop, she gestured to all of the boxes and exclaimed, "I brought these, so help yourselves! I can give you the rundown while we eat."

Cadmeancio and Heavy Matal happily sat nearby, letting out a harmonious, "thank you," as they peered into the individual boxes to look for a treat. Fukiya was the only one who remained rigidly in place, hands resting at her sides even as she looked around at the assorted boxes.

"Fukiya?" Ladybug called, earning her attention. "Everything okay?"

"Ah—" Fukiya let out a neutral hum. "I'm not really... allowed to indulge in..."

Chat waved a croissant from his seat besides Ladybug. "You've got superhero status now! You don't have to worry about anyone else or what they'll—"

Ladybug cut him off by clearing her throat, facing Fukiya to clarify, "What Chat means is... obviously we have to maintain our secret identities, but you can still be yourself around us, and you don't have to worry about anything you've been forced to do or not do when you're not transformed."

She offered what she hoped was a welcoming smile. She was worried at first, given how Fukiya looked at her like they were in a staring contest, but she relented quickly enough, sitting down and searching for the perfect treat amongst her options.

Ladybug breathed a sigh of relief, then slid herself back just enough that all of the new teammates were in view. Clapping her hands together to earn everyone's attention, she began, "I imagine your kwami filled you in on most of the details, but just to make sure everyone's on the same page..."

Cadmeancio and Heavy Matal shifted to face her, Fukiya already having been in the right position.

Ladybug continued, "With LadyBugOut in place and Hawk Moth seeing us as even more of a threat, you three are here to be new, permanent heroes to help cover any weak points we might have." She gestured vaguely at them. "That said, you don't have to show up to ever single battle; if you can show up, show up, but don't worry if you're in the middle of something. I want all of you to warm up to having miraculouses instead of being forced to get used to them right away."

"Isn't it serious?" Fukiya asked, arms crossed. "We should be prepared for anything."

"We have time," Ladybug assured confidently, "and forcing anything to happen won't get us the results we want." She would know. "So just... take it slow, okay?"

Fukiya looked like she wanted to argue, but closed her eyes and let out a breath, apparently thinking better of it.

"Should we come anyway if you need us?" Heavy Matal questioned with a tilt of his head, though his voice was hesitant as if he wasn't sure if he should suggest such a thing.

Ladybug, however, was happy for the question and gave him a grin. "Oh, if you can? Definitely, and as long as you're on the blog, you'll get notified of any akuma!"

He nodded his head, understanding the exception, then went back to munching on one of the sweets he'd picked up. Given that his and Fukiya's curiosity was satiated, Ladybug glanced at Cadmeancio, almost expecting him to have questions as well.

When he seemed more interested in the box the sweets were in, staring strangely fondly at the logo, she called out with interest, "Cadmeancio?"

He looked up at her, waving a hand dismissively. "Sorry. I've—" He paused, and she appreciated his attempt to choose his words carefully. "—I've been to this bakery a few times. It's really good."

"Oh." She eyed the box again, her gaze locking to the three little wrapped-up containers she'd placed in the middle of one box in particular. She perked up, internally thanking Cadmeancio for the transition. "That reminds me—well, sort of..."

She pulled each container out by the ribbon she'd wrapped around them, each with a distinct color that matched the new heroes. Once she had all three held against her chest, she began passing them out to each hero, each of them taking them with care and setting them on their lap.

"These—" Ladybug gestured at the boxes. "—are power-ups, and they—"

Suddenly, Chat choked off to the side, covering his mouth as he forced himself to swallow. Ladybug looked over at him blinked, concerned, but he was recovered quickly enough, standing up and taking her arm.

"Bugaboo, can we have an original-heroes-only meeting?" he asked quickly, though the nickname didn't make it sound any nicer.

"Uh, sure?" She let him take her as far away from the three heroes as possible, waiting until they were out of earshot to whisper, "What is it?"

"Those—" He still seemed stunned by something. "—those are the power-ups? They're getting them?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I don't see the—" She paused, remembering the day that they'd first gotten their powers. "—wait, you're not jealous, are you?"

"Why are they getting them right away?" he asked, completely evading the question. "Master Fu—"

Ladybug held a hand up to silence him. "They don't know about Master Fu, for the record, and it was Master Fu's idea to give it to them. I don't know, it's just..." She shrugged for lack of an answer. "He must trust them?"

"That—that doesn't make sense," he said. "Aren't you curious?"

"No," she replied bluntly. When Chat looked struck by it, she continued, "It's none of my business. I trust Master Fu and I trust who he chose."

"But—!"

"Besides, those power-ups aren't just about when we need them for fighting akuma." She hesitated, needing to take a breath before getting into any serious topics. "Chat, we can't do everything ourselves, and five is better than two in this case. Those power-ups could do a lot of good and we might not be around where they could be good. I've had a lot of close calls since I started helping outside of akuma, and stopping that helicopter from crashing into a building would've been a lot less stressful with the power of flight. We don't even know if another Frozer could show up again, and then the others would be out of luck. Then, there's the possibility of another Syren, or an akuma fleeing into the sewers, and we got Frozer and Syren the day we learned that Hawk Moth had the peacock working for him!"

"So you're worried about Hawk Moth striking back, but you still want them to take it easy?" Chat argued.

"Yes, because I want to give them the warm-up time that we never got. That led to a lot of mistakes, and I—" She stopped, noting that she wasn't comfortable divulging so much information to Chat about how her experience went. "...I just want time for the new teammates to ease into battle and get to know us naturally."

He looked put off by that. "Isn't our relationship natural?"

She forced her mouth shut for a few seconds, not wanting to say anything she'd regret. The fact that he was asking in the first place said a lot about their differences.

Then, finally, she sighed and gave a shrug. "Not completely, no."

He gaped.

"Chat, we got forced together by every single akuma that came our way. We didn't choose to work together, we just had to, and I don't want our new teammates to see us the same way! Superheroing is a job, but teamwork means that we have to care about each other as partners, and I want to ease into that."

She only just refrained from mentioning that her relationship with him had been strained for a while now because of the requirement of working together, knowing it would only cause more arguing. The fact that she and Chat had needed to work together from the beginning made everything go too fast, and she couldn't believe it took so long for her to realize it.

"...Look," she said before Chat could cut in, her voice lower at the realization that she might've been too loud earlier, "I know you were upset that I knew Master Fu when you didn't, but that wasn't my choice. He didn't want to tell anyone about his existence in the first place. We got blindsided by Mayura and we've almost lost our miraculouses multiple times, so it'd be nice to have more heroes who have the power to help if we need them—"

"We don't need anyone else," Chat insists, holding her hands in her. "Remember, m'lady? You and me against the world."

She didn't indulge him this time, pulling her hands away to raise them in defense. "I'm sorry, Chat. That's—that's not how it works. I don't want to be in a situation like that again."

"Where we have dozens of akuma against us, or where it's just down to you and me?" he challenged.

She took a breath, giving him a once-over as she gauged his body language. Shaking her head, she took a step back, not meeting his eyes as she replied, "Both."

She turned away before she could see any hint of his reaction. As far as she was concerned, the situation wasn't about her and Chat; it was about Paris and doing whatever they could to protect it.

She'd been initially apprehensive to return to the new heroes, fearing that the obvious hushed argument made her look bad, but her new teammates were simply waiting where they were before, their looks non-judgmental and the containers in their laps open to the contents, as if they'd all synchronized the motion while she'd been preoccupied.

She smiled, hope replacing nervousness as she went to sit down with them. She was tempted to eat a treat or too, but resisted, opting to pull out her yoyo so she could reach inside and retrieve her box of potion-infused macarons for the sake of instructing them on the powers.

Before she could, she felt a warmth near her shoulder and turned her head to see Cadmeancio, offering her a concerned look while his hand hovered over her shoulder. Though she wondered how obvious her feelings really were, she wordlessly gave him permission and he let his hand drop, giving her shoulder a small squeeze.

She felt good about this. This team could really work.

Chat Noir was thankfully too busy inhaling a slice of cake to notice the gesture. Ladybug didn't know if seeing such things made him antsy, but she preferred not to find out.

Focusing on the little box in her hands, she pulled out a green macaron and began, "Okay, so green is for water..."

[everybodyscupoftea]

april fools

pike jj x reader ft. cody and tyler

the boys do their best to prank you

happy april fools folks. consider this my prank :)

warnings: cursing, not edited, video game violence (?)

You knew it was going to be a weird one when you woke up after JJ the morning of April 1. Admittedly you forgot, barely keeping up with the dates anymore with your senior year winding down, so when you checked your phone and saw a text from your sister about a pregnancy scare, you figured it out.

Before getting out of bed, you sent back, a pregnancy scare before 9 a.m.? amateur hour

JJ was moving around in the kitchen, so you sat up, shivering when the blanket was gone and the AC hit your bare arms. You walked to the closet for a sweatshirt and froze when the door opened, all your clothes gone.

Blinking a few times as if they’d appear, your jaw dropped. Obviously JJ had done it, but how long had he been awake to completely clear it out without you waking up? Where the hell had he put it all?

“JJ,” you called out.

All movement in the kitchen stopped as he yelled back, “What’s up?”

“Where are my clothes?”

It sounded like he was fighting a smile, “What?”

“My clothes, where did you put them?”

Your lips twitched, fighting a smile, when he appeared in the doorway, visibly pleased with himself. He played innocent, “Whatever do you mean?”

“All of my clothes are gone.”

JJ hummed, “You sure?”

Stepping aside, you dramatically waved your arm at the empty closet to get his attention, “I’m positive.”

“Emperor’s new clothes type beat,” he replied, ignoring the empty closet completely as he turned on his heel and went back to the kitchen. Before he was fully out of your vision, he called over his shoulder, “Hungry?”

You sighed, resigning yourself to your fate, “Yeah, I could go for food.”

To your surprise, he actually cooked for the two of you, sliding a steaming mug of coffee across the counter before he went back to whatever he’d been doing when you interrupted him. After a few seconds, you walked away and grabbed one of the blankets draped over the couch to wrap around yourself to block out the strong AC blowing through the living room.

“Cold?” JJ asked when he looked back at you.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, “I wanted a sweatshirt.”

“I’m sure there’s one in your closet.”

You snorted, “You are so lame. This prank is so dumb.”

“Not a prank. Why would I prank you?”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, “I’ll get you back, Maybank.”

“I just don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered, passing a plate of eggs and toast to you. 

The two of you ate mostly in silence, your head leaning on his shoulder, when he sat down on the stool next to yours. It was comfortable, and you felt your eyes shutting again, not originally planning to wake up as early as you did. 

“Tired?” he asked quietly.

You hummed, gripping onto his shirt after another lazy bite, “Little bit.”

“Why’d you get up?”

“Thought it was later than it was ‘cause you were gone.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“S’okay.”

“Wanna take a nap?” he asked, shifting slightly to make his shoulder more accessible to you.

You exhaled heavily, “Nah, I should wake up, I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

He reached across his body to tap your nose gently, “We could get dressed and go for a walk.”

Thinking for a few seconds, you nodded, “Yeah, let’s do that. I need clothes though.”

“I’ll grab you some,” he reassured.

You grinned victoriously as he walked over to your roommate’s closed door. She’d stayed the night at her boyfriend’s and had clearly given him a key to her room to store your clothes in for the day.

“You gave that up much quicker than I thought,” you gloated.

“Yeah, well, it was a pretty dumb prank.”

With a head shake, you rested your chin in your hand, “No, I liked it. It was very you.”

He smiled, “I knew you’d like it. Cody said you wouldn’t, but I knew.”

“I’d hope you know me better.”

“I’m going to text him and tell him you said that.”

You snorted and shook your head, amused at his antics. He was ridiculous, but you loved him.

-

Cody texted you at 1:30 exactly that he was there to pick you up, and you grabbed your booksack before heading down to his car. The two of you had made plans to work on homework at the library together.

He was parked next to your car, right outside the entrance to your building, and you smiled, tugging the passenger door open, only to pause when Tyler was sitting in the driver’s seat, not Cody.

“Um, hey,” you greeted, confused, and looked down at your phone to double check that it had, in fact, been Cody that texted you.

“What’s up,” Tyler returned, turning the music down slightly as you hesitantly got in the car, buckling up.

He drove toward the library without explanation, so you finally asked, “So, where’s Cody?”

“Who?”

“Okay,” you trailed off, more confused, “why aren’t you driving your car?”

Tyler shrugged, “Didn’t feel like it.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you spoke slowly, trying to work it out, “Did we have plans today?”

“Library to study,” Tyler answered as you thought he would, so you checked your phone again, scrolling through you and Cody’s texts.

“Yeah, I made those plans with Cody.”

“No you didn’t. I don’t even know who that is,” he rebutted, unconcerned.

“I have the text right here.”

Tyler snorted, “It’s easy to fake texts.”

You knew what was going on, especially after JJ’s “prank” so you shrugged, leaning back into the seat, trying your best to figure it out. After a few minutes of thinking, you sighed, “Okay, I don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“What’s the point of this one? You aren’t pretending to be Cody, so what’s the point?”

“The point of what? Aren’t we going to study? Plus, I don’t even know a Cody, and I certainly don’t want to pretend to be one.”

“I don’t,” you rubbed your forehead, “okay.”

He found a parking spot near the library entrance and got out, grabbing his booksack from the back seat, all while you sat still, mind still whirling. Tyler raised his eyebrows, “You coming? I wanna fit a bunch in before we leave for dinner.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re getting burritos,” Tyler answered, sounding excited. It confused you again, Cody being the bigger burrito fan out of the two of them.

You relented, “Okay, sounds great.”

The library was fairly empty, and he found an empty study room with a whiteboard for the two of you to sit. He took immediate control of the markers and started working through something in one of his programming classes.

He wrote silently, the only sounds in the room were your typing and his squeaking when he pressed a little too hard on the marker. It was comforting, and you fell into the reading you were doing for your sales class.

It wasn’t until your stomach started to growl that you stopped, slamming your laptop shut while your eyes swam a bit from all the reading you’d done. Tyler capped his marker and spun around to look at you.

“Hungry?”

“Very.”

He nodded, “Same, let’s go get food.”

You were packing up before he finished talking, and Tyler laughed. He took his time, messing with you, and you sighed, “Ty, can you please go faster?”

“Who?”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, “are you actually pretending to be Cody?”

“I’m not.”

“Okay, then who are you?”

“JJ’s my name,” he answered confidently.

“Right,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “now I’m really confused.”

“Confused about what?”

“I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“We’re getting burritos,” he answered, tone in his words that sounded very close to an unspoken ‘duh’ and you bristled at his defensiveness, far too tired to figure it out what the hell he was doing.

“The three of you are being weird.”

Tyler squinted at you, confused, and you rolled your eyes. If anything you could get a free burrito out of it which would absolutely make up for all the confusion they were putting you through that day.

-

Tyler brought you to the house instead of back to your apartment, and you shrugged, unbothered. JJ’s car was there, so you could just go chill in his room if nothing else. When you got inside, the smell of chocolate smacked you in the face, and you knew Cody had been baking.

You followed as Tyler beelined to the kitchen, an eager look on his face. Cody was standing there, apron wrapped around his waist with a closed container in front of him, likely containing the dessert you were smelling.

He waved, “Hey guys! Want a brownie?”

“God yes,” Tyler groaned.

Cody’s lips twitched and you steeled yourself for disappointment, already reading the look in his eyes. He waved you over and opened the container slightly for both of you to reach in and take one. 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, maybe for him to have altered the taste, but you weren’t expecting to feel nothing. Confused, you reached around until you hit the bottom of the container, feeling something sliding under your fingers.

“What the hell?” Tyler muttered, clearly feeling what you were.

Cody was shaking, trying to hold in his laughter as you took hold of whatever it was and pulled your hand out. You groaned when you looked at the paper. Tyler looked over and took in the cut out of the letter E, sloppily colored brown in colored pencil.

“I hate you so goddamn much,” Tyler pouted.

“Do you have some in the oven or something?” you asked, not giving up hope just yet.

He smirked, “You are smelling a candle my friends.”

“Fuck you,” Tyler muttered, stomping off to his room.

You laughed at his response and reached out to knock Cody’s shoulder, “That’s the best one today, bud.”

“Yes!” he cheered, “I knew I could do it!”

His words reminded you of JJ’s from earlier that day, and you rolled your eyes, realizing what they’d done.

“Did the three of you really have a competition to see who could prank me best?”

Cody nodded eagerly, “We absolutely did, and you just won me $100.” 

“Oh my god,” you muttered, “I hate you all. I’ve been so confused all day.”

“I told them, you just gotta keep it simple,” he informed you.

You bit your lip, “I won’t ask for a cut of your winnings if you actually make me brownies.”

“Oh, deal,” he responded, immediately jumping into action.

With a smile, you pinched his cheek, “Thanks, bestie. I’m going to find JJ, text me when they’re done.”

-

JJ was sitting at the foot of his bed, playing a video game, when you walked into his room. He smiled and tilted his head up, asking for a kiss, and you gave him one, dropping down next to him afterward.

“Hey,” he whispered, setting his controller down.

“Hey,” you answered, “I think you owe Cody $50.”

His face dropped, “God damnit.”

“Sorry, bud.”

“It’s alright,” he sighed, “his prank was pretty good. He got me too.”

“I’ll give you one of my consolation brownies.”

JJ perked up immediately as the round of his game finished, “Fuck yes.”

Before you could respond, he turned away, waiting for the next one to start, and you settled down next to him, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees to watch.

“What is this?”

“Valorant.”

“You don’t play this one very often.”

He bit his lip, concentrating, and answered distractedly, “Yeah, I just started like two months ago.”

When he died, he sighed, grip tightening around the controller in frustration, and you squeezed his shoulder, “Looks complicated.”

“It’s not so bad,” he admitted, “but I’m playing a different character than usual.”

“You playing with randoms?”

“Nah, some of the brothers,” JJ told you before perking up, “wait, do you wanna prank them?”

Leaning back, you weren’t sure what the fuck he was suggesting, “Um, maybe?”

“Play in my place for the rest of the game. I’m about to de-rank anyway because they suck.”

“Show me,” you answered, actually excited. He muted and explained the controls and the role to you while playing through a round to show you. As soon as it ended, another team loss, he passed over his headset and the controller.

“Should I unmute?” you asked him as the buy period ended.

“Up to you,” he answered, almost getting drowned out by one of the brothers barking orders. You bit your lip and decided to try a round on mute first before doing anything else. It went better than you thought, you even managed to get a kill, and JJ was impressed.

“Okay, definitely unmute and just pretend like nothing is different.”

You laughed and hit the button on his discord voice chat, unmuting yourself. One of the brothers asked JJ a question, and you answered, buying him the gun he asked for. The boys went silent, and you didn’t say anything else as the round started.

“Right,” one of them trailed off, “I’m going A. Maybank go B like last time, it worked.”

You played another round, winning again, and they started to get more excited. No one asked what was going on, and they kept calling you Maybank, screaming when they finally managed to tie it up at 10. 

JJ was cheering too, clutching onto your thigh tightly as you leaned forward, focused, tongue sticking out slightly. It started to feel more natural, you getting the hang of it, and you even managed to win a 1v1, putting your team up 11-10.

“Oh my fuck, I might not de-rank,” JJ hissed, voice cracking in his excitement.

“Shush,” you whispered back, “I’m focusing.”

“Right,” he backed away, hands up, “sorry, carry on.”

The next few rounds were intense, going back and forth until you finally clutched it out, killing the last two guys on the other team to finally win the game.

“YES!” one of the guys screamed into his headset, “Fucking awesome, Maybank...or whoever you are!”

“Holy shit!” JJ yelped next to you, yanking you into a tight hug. You laughed, tossing the remote to the side and left the Discord call so he could kiss you. When he pulled away, he beamed, “Wow, you’re so much cooler than me.”

“I know,” you teased, squeezing his shoulder.

“Now that was the best prank,” he said, “I’m giving you $50 for that.”

“No need, just let me know when you’re about to de-rank again and I’ll save your ass.”

JJ laughed, head tossed back, “Will do, sweetheart. Will do.”

[bella-caecilia]

I just requested 22 for Chelsie but just saw you've already done that one with Cobert. If you're not doing duplicates of the prompts then may I please suggest a backup, #13 for Chelsie? :)

Thank you for your lovely requests for Chelsie 😊 After doing #22 (x) and getting so sweet response from you guys, I decided to do the other one too. I really enjoyed writing for Chelsie for a change :D I set this one shortly after the finale of the series. I hope you like it <3

13 – kissing someone’s forehead

A huff escaped him. Charles stood in his pantry and let his eyes wander across the familiar surroundings. The desk, the fireplace, the armchair. It had been his room, his place for years and years. Years on end, he had thought, but now there was an end. Charles would leave after today. It was his last day of working as butler here at the Abbey, and he couldn’t deny that he was feeling a trifle nostalgic.

He took the two steps towards his desk and his finger brushed over the tabletop. It was as clean and dust-free as ever. The drawers had been emptied earlier this day and only a few personal items were left on top of the desk. There was a picture in a frame Elsie had given him as a present once. The photograph it held, however, was a different one by now. It wasn’t the picture of Alice he had kept after all these years. It was photo of Elsie and him on their wedding day. Elsie had argued at first that she had given him the frame for Alice’s photo and her remembrance. Charles had assured her how thankful he had been and still was for that sweet gesture, but now something new had started in his life. Something he was very grateful for. It was only right to let her frame represent this. She’d smiled coyly and no more words of protest were heard.

Charles adjusted the frame on the desk even if he had to remove it in a few hours. He turned around and observed the room from this familiar angle, standing at his desk.

…

Elsie walked down the hallway with wide strides. She had been checking the maids’ work on the guest rooms and was on her way to find Baxter to ask a favour for some mending work when she caught a glimpse of her husband in his pantry. He stood there with a furrowed brow and seemed lost in thoughts. She stopped in her tracks and changed her plans. She would pay him a short visit before she sought Baxter. Slowly she approached his open door. When he took notice of her presence, she stepped into the room fully and closed the door swiftly behind herself. Her hands hold on to the door handle behind her back.

“Huh, Charlie? Brooding about your new life as a retiree?” she asked softly, tipping her head to the side.

“No, not really,” he answered curtly. His eyes scanned the walls beside her.

“You know? I think it can be really idyllic to spend your days at the cottage?” Elsie suggested. She knew that the change in his as well as in their life was also a chance. A new start for a new phase in life. That it wasn’t easy for him to leave Downton as a crucial part of his life behind was, naturally, clear to her. But it was not a goodbye. Charles and Downton would stay bound together. So Elsie tried to lighten his mood and somehow make this step easier for him.

“It is a wonderful cottage and we have an excellent garden,” she continued. Charles shook his head turned his gaze to her.

“I know, Elsie. But I don’t want to think and talk about what I might do with my life now. We have already talked about that, and there is plenty of time plan more after today,��� Charles explained calmly. He sighed. “Right now, I only want to take mental pictures of this place. I don’t want to lose my memories of all that I’ve experienced here.”

Elsie hands sank from the handle. Her gaze was warm. She understood what he meant. She wouldn’t bother him with talk of the future. He should gladly take his mental photographs. She made a step towards him and her right hand reached out to pat his upper arm.

“Well, go on then,” she spoke softly. A tiny smile grazed Charles’ lips, but after a moment an expression of confusion appeared on his face as Elsie made no attempt to leave. She stepped to his side, with her hands folded in front of her. She seemed to wait for his next move.

“What are you doing?” he inquired.

“I’m watching you taking your mental pictures,” she explained casually. “Don’t mind me. I’m just standing here.”

“If you say so,” Charles relented and turned to his deserted armchair, looking at it and probably recalling countless moments that he had sat there. He seemed unbothered by Elsie’s continued presence, and he brushed the rest of the armchair with a faraway look on his face.

“Oh…” Elsie uttered, and Charles turned around, shaken out of his reverie.

“What?” he asked, as she was already approaching his armchair and sinking into the cushioning with a subtle grin on her lips.

“Take a picture!” she demanded while putting her arms on the armrests and leaning further back. She moved as if to make herself comfortable and gave him a warm smile.

“What?” Charles repeated.

“You shouldn’t go without mental images of me. Or do you think otherwise?” Elsie explained. She looked up expectantly into his slightly flabbergasted face.

“No. Of course I have memories here with you. Plenty of them. So I don’t have to take a picture of you exclusively,” he mumbled, but Elsie looked at him challengingly. His expressions softened and took his time taking in the sight before him. How relaxed she was leaning back in his chair and how amused she smiled up at him. His eyes traced along her fingers and round nails, which contrasted nicely with the material of the armrest. He observed how the fabric of her dress bunched slightly at her bent knees. His eyes found hers and he was sure that this image would definitely stay in his mind.

“Got it,” he whispered with a tiny nod. She rose and he could literally see another idea lighting up her face.

“One more,” she stated and went to his desk. She rounded it and sat down on his chair behind it with a straight posture. She rested her wrists on the edge of the desk and gave a him strict and serious look.

“This is my last chance,” she explained nonchalantly. “I’m sure Mr Barrow won’t tolerate it if he’d find me sitting at this desk in future.”

Charles chuckled lowly at her expressed thoughts. “Well, I tolerate it. So, take your time sitting there. I’ve definitely taken a mental image of that.” Elsie took in the items left on his desk. She smiled gently at their photo in the frame and picked up his favourite pen, playing with it lost in thought.

“Elsie?” Charles asked tentatively.

“Yes?” She looked up at him and when he didn’t continue, she stood up and went around the table. She halted directly in front of him and looked up at him with a questioning expression.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for these nice images and for being by my side.” He took her face into his large hands gently. His eyes caressed her face softly.

“It’s alright,” Elsie replied in a hushed voice while Charles leaned forwards with pursed lips to press a kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered there a moment.

“It’s alright,” she repeated, but more in an attempt to reproduce the situation than to assure him. However, Charles decided to gently turn her head upwards and look into her greyish-blue eyes. With the loving look he gave her, she was just as pleased.

[cheshiresense]

Ok so Im going to take this chance and go wild: GiottoxMukuro + Bad Vongola AU

UM. So, I sort of just sat on this last one cuz what even lmao. I checked AO3 and omg this ship exists??? but there’s like just two fics under it. But alright, here’s my stab at this very random pairing, it doesn’t even quite get all the way to a pairing, but I gave them both page time and at least you gave me something new to try XD Sorry it’s so late.

ALSO YAY I FINISHED ALL TEN

1. Ok so! First thing’s first - how do I stick these two into the same time period? Either full AU or time travel/reincarnation fuckery. Let’s go with reincarnation. Sort of. Where Neo Primo is literally Neo Primo ;)

Tsuna is dead. They’re in the future arc, he’s being forced to take the boss trial, and Hibari suffocates him just a little too long. So Tsuna dies at the feet of his ancestors, and Giotto is forced to witness the death of a fourteen-year-old boy who had never asked for any of this bloodshed but had also never backed down from it, never folded, even under the pressure of so many Vongola bosses. And Giotto is angry. He has spent centuries watching his beloved Vongola become mired in blood and sin, built on an empire of corpses and suffering. He is so sick of it, of not being able to do anything about it, but his latest descendant is dead, and his body is empty of a soul, and in that moment, more than anything else, all Giotto wants is a chance to act, to be something other than helpless, to fix even just a little of what his bloodline has broken.

Will and Flames and desperation are powerful things when combined.

Next thing Giotto knows, he’s opening his eyes to a cold-looking training room, the remains of a cage that killed a fourteen-year-old boy splintering around him, and it barely takes a thought for his Flames to surge up and out and slam the Cloud - Hibari Kyouya - into the far wall with a viciousness Giotto had spent the majority of his first life keeping under wraps. For a split second, he almost kills the Cloud for his gall. A Guardian who could murder his own Sky - however well-intentioned or unknowingly - is no Guardian at all, but then, out of all of the Tenth Generation, as far as Giotto can tell, not a single one of them had had a real bond with Tsuna. The one who’d come closest had been the Mist, but after ten years and the weight of Vongola’s sins on his shoulders, even that connection had dissolved.

If Giotto is honest, the person Tsuna had become ten years later under the crushing pressure of that Sun Arcobaleno and the Vongola had been near unrecognizable compared to the boy Giotto had so admired. But that man is dead, at least for now, dragged under by too many enemies and too many bad decisions, and all that’s left is this younger version, dragged to the future against his will and forced to fight a war of someone else’s making.

Not even that anymore obviously, and all that’s left is Giotto, a bloody legacy to his name and too many regrets to pay for. All he can do is live out Tsuna’s life now and hopefully undo some of the damage Vongola has wrought. Tsuna wouldn’t want him killing this Cloud though, and so Giotto lets him go in the end. Hibari gets to his feet, something bloodthirsty and thrilled gleaming in his eyes, completely ignorant of the fact that he’d killed his Sky, and all Giotto can think as he recalls the way Tsuna had always had to bribe this man for him to even consider helping is how Alaude must be rolling in his grave.

“I’m done,” He says instead, slicing a cool look around the room, and then he walks out, back to his room. Nobody stops him, but Giotto wouldn’t have stopped him either, with the shadow of his Flames licking across the concrete floor.

2. Giotto does his duty. Ten years in the future is far too late to really change anything significant, so the faster he takes care of business here, the sooner they can all go home. In the meantime, it amuses him - in a funny world-burning sort of way - how none of Tsuna’s friends seems to realize anything is wrong, that the boy they profess their loyalty to is gone, and his body has been usurped by an interloper. Giotto considers himself a decent enough actor, but for a bunch of Flame-actives with Vongola rings on their fingers and Guardian titles to their names, they’re a rather oblivious lot.

(All of Tsuna’s past and present and future sits in his memories now though, and Giotto can’t say he’s terribly surprised. The person these children wanted to follow was never actually the boy Tsuna had been, not entirely. They pay attention to the parts of him that they like, and ignore the rest like they don’t exist. It infuriates Giotto, because Tsuna deserved better, but Tsuna is dead, and even if Giotto has every intention of at the very least demoting them from their Guardian positions once they’re finished here, he cannot truly harm these children Tsuna had called friends.)

So he does his duty, fights the battles people want him to fight, and smiles blandly back in the face of Reborn’s suspicious glances. That hitman at least can sense something is off, if only because his student no longer cringes or screams, but no one save the Vongola bosses knows the details of what happens in the Vongola Trial, and it’s easy enough to balance Reborn’s misgivings with that.

It’s fun though, messing with the pseudo-baby. The last time Reborn tried to shoot him awake in the morning, Giotto had set the entire room on fire and ended up singeing off Reborn’s sideburns. The resulting training session had been grueling, but it had been worth finally getting back at the man first responsible for more or less browbeating Tsuna into obedience.

Pettiness aside, Giotto does put effort into training. Tsuna’s body is in decent shape, but it could be even better, so Giotto does his best to make it so. The weapons of the future are something of a marvel too, and he smiles indulgently at the full-grown wing-adorned flame-pelted Leone di Cieli that gracefully leaps out to greet him, but in the privacy of his rooms, he lets his Flames swirl free and summons the phoenix that had been his constant companion in his first life, the soul of his Flames, his will made sentient.

“Natsu,” He names the lion, after Tsuna, and welcomes Persephone home as she does a sweep of his bedroom before landing light and delicate on his shoulder, the way she’d always done in battle.

The looks on everyone’s faces when they see her with him is enough to make Giotto smile for the next week.

3. It becomes clear soon enough that they’re going to need all hands on deck for the final confrontation against Millefiore, but even before that, Giotto begins asking some pointed questions that Tsuna had thought but hadn’t quite been brave enough to ask.

“When are we getting my Mist out of Vendicare?” He enquires one night over dinner, and smiles pleasantly as everyone freezes. “We require all the aid we can get, yes? And Mukuro has always been strong.”

“Jyuudaime!” Hayato is the first to burst out, chair skidding back with how emphatically he stands up. “We don’t need that bastard!” Giotto looks at him, not a twitch in his expression, impenetrable as ice even as he keeps his features soft, and Hayato falters. “Or- Or even if we do, he can just possess Dokuro! He can’t be trusted if we let him out!”

Giotto stirs more sugar into his coffee - rich and sweet, gave G a minor aneurysm every time he saw it - just the way he likes it. “So we make him serve, and offer nothing in return?”

Giotto waits out the confused spluttering around him. Reborn is drilling holes into the side of his head but he pays the baby no mind.

“He has been imprisoned for ten years,” Giotto continues in mild tones. “And has remained loyal all this time, si?” He glances briefly at Chrome, the younger one, who stares back, meek and mute. She is loyal to Mukuro above all others, and it would’ve been so very easy for him to influence her into betraying Vongola - betraying Tsuna - anytime.

That he hadn’t, in all this time, is… something. It’s something. The lingering threads of a frayed potential bond. The stubborn refusal to give up something he’d once perhaps considered his. A promise once given - keep my people safe and you will have my allegiance - and never broken, not by Mukuro.

People have often remarked on how similar the First and Tenth Generations are. Personally, Giotto has never seen two sets of people so different.

“I wish to free him,” He says at last, over the voices of those trying to convince him otherwise. “Loyalty deserves loyalty returned. Whatever else he used to be, he has bled in my service for ten years. Surely that is enough to justify his release?”

It is not a question, and everyone knows it. Reborn is all but glaring now. He doesn’t like this new Tsuna who does not cower even in the face of his bullets.

Giotto is spiteful enough to enjoy every moment of it.

It is Takeshi who relents first. “Okay,” He says, all easy agreement and assessing eyes, and maybe this one at least is not so far removed from Ugetsu’s blood after all. “But how are we gonna do that? Vendicare’s hard to break into, right?”

Hayato - the only mafia-raised of the lot - looks positively horrified. “It’s not hard, Baseball Freak, it’s impossible!”

“But Mukuro already broke out twice, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Giotto interjects, smiling at Takeshi, who preens a little under the attention and is in some ways possibly the most insane of them all. Giotto does have a fondness for those who consider laws as guidelines at best. “So, I suppose we need a Mist.” He takes a gulp of his coffee. “The Varia has a new one these days, don’t they?”

Three conferences, five one-sided shouting matches, and a hefty sum of money transferred over to the Varia accounts later, Giotto has secured Xanxus’ partly baffled, mostly irritated agreement for Fran’s services. Fran turns out to be a rather… precocious young man, but he has Mist Flames and skills that almost rival Mukuro’s, and Giotto is relatively content to leave the breakout to him.

His confidence is not misplaced. Days and half a dozen more battles later, with Byakuran grandstanding across from him, Giotto’s entire ill-fitted, misfit Family is gathered, and the First Generation appears at Giotto’s silent command to unseal the Vongola rings.

(All of them know what he is, the soul peering out from behind Tsuna’s eyes. But in this one moment, not even Daemon gives him away, and Giotto is free to finally unleash his carefully controlled wrath on the Family that had decimated his.)

Millefiore doesn’t stand a chance.

4. “You are not Sawada Tsunayoshi,” Mukuro - the older one - says in deceptively light tones as he joins Giotto on the balcony. It’s late, the night before they would all finally return to the past, and the two of them are probably the only ones still awake.

“No,” Giotto confirms, because there’s no hiding it from this man. “I’m afraid Sawada Tsunayoshi perished in Kyouya’s Box Weapon when he and Reborn attempted to force a Vongola Trial.”

Mukuro, staring out at the sprawling woods before them, does not visibly react, does not even move. For a moment, it doesn’t even seem like he’s breathing, and that’s what gives him away.

Giotto does not say he is sorry. He is, for this, and for too many other things to list, but whatever connection had formed between Tsuna and his Mist had been lost a long time ago, and sorry only sounds trite in the face of such a travesty. The only reason Mukuro had never drifted away, Giotto suspects, was because the Mist had refused to let go. Mukuro himself would never admit it, perhaps never even acknowledge it to himself, but if there was one thing Giotto had always envied Tsuna for, it was his ability to earn a Mist’s devotion so completely.

(And so it had hurt all the more to watch the years go by as Tsuna allowed Vongola to convince him to leave Mukuro in Vendicare. Hurt most of all to realize, one day, that Tsuna no longer cared so long as Mukuro continued reporting in and doing as he was told.)

“What will you do with my younger self?” Mukuro eventually asks, carefully void of every emotion save for the thinnest veneer of detached interest.

“Free him,” Giotto replies promptly, seeing no need for word games here. Reborn had tried to interrogate him about his Vongola Trial, and Giotto had given him every answer but a straight one. It had been highly entertaining. “If he wishes, he will have a place in my Famiglia. If he does not, then I will ensure he is able to start a new life elsewhere with his people, without Vongola dogging their every step.” He pauses, absently considering his hands, more solid than they’ve been in four hundred years. “Even Tsunayoshi’s fear of Reborn was not enough to stop him from asking repeatedly after you. This is the least I can do for your younger self when Tsunayoshi worried about him so often.”

Mukuro scoffs, a hollow puff of air that fades to nothing. “Had he a few more years in him, you would’ve had nothing to concern yourself with.”

Giotto inclines his head in acknowledgement but says nothing more. There is probably no one who knew Tsuna - who fought him and lost to him and understood him - more than Mukuro. The Mist doesn’t need Giotto expounding on the rise and fall of one of the brightest and most short-lived Skies the world would ever see.

“You will not tell the others about me?” Giotto asks instead, more curious than any kind of anxious about it.

Mukuro tips a mocking facsimile of a smile in his direction, looking him straight-on for the first time since his arrival. “What business is it of mine, if Vongola wishes to destroy itself?”

Giotto half-smiles, half-grimaces. He supposes this is hardly a surprise either; it was never Vongola that Mukuro swore unspoken fealty to.

So instead, he reaches out, gently catching one of Mukuro’s hands in his own and knowing he can only because Mukuro allows it. Mismatched eyes watch him like a hawk, a derisive curl on his lips that freezes when Giotto presses the flickering heat of a piece of Sky Flame into his palm.

Then he steps back, once, twice, enough room to sketch an esoteric bow, too formal for this age but recognizable enough here and now if Mukuro’s sharp intake of breath is anything to go by.

Gratitude. Apology. And a dissolution of debt and duty between Guardian and Sky.

If Mukuro so wishes, even after Giotto is gone, the shard of Sky will ensure a clean break from Vongola, and not even Sawada Tsunayoshi will be able to track his former Guardian down. It is all Giotto can offer him.

He straightens, glancing at the piece of Sky now settled into the shimmering form of a phoenix feather. A new life, if Mukuro wants it.

He meets the Mist’s gaze. Mukuro is the first to look away, fingers curling around the feather, eyes on the horizon, and he doesn’t speak again.

Giotto nods, takes his leave, and he does not see the Mist again, not this version at least. Once time straightens itself out, the adult Tsuna of this universe will return, and while Millefiore is no longer a threat, Vongola - and its Decimo - will still be the same stagnant bloodstained mess.

There is nothing Giotto can do about that, but at the back of his mind, he wonders if it wouldn’t have been better after all to have let Millefiore wipe Vongola out.

5. Later, much later, after a jailbreak and Daemon and a broken curse, Giotto and his Guardians - still no bonds, but he can’t seem to find a good time to get rid of them, so maybe instead of that, he can educate them to be better - sit down for a Family dinner at the most upscale banquet hall Namimori has to offer, with the Ninth and his men, the CEDEF and even Varia. They’re in public so everyone has their law-abiding citizen face on, but (a redo of) the Inheritance Ceremony is imminent, and Timoteo smiles, sly and pleased that all the pieces have finally fallen into place. He waves Giotto into the seat on his immediate right and doesn’t even question how very little Giotto resembles Tsuna these days, ascribing the changes to Reborn’s training and recent battles and growing up, and looking no further than that.

The food is good, Italian but cooked by the best chefs on Vongola payroll. Giotto stares Kyouya into grudging silence over the fare, and then he focuses on chatting amicably with Timoteo, weaving smooth flattery into casual but attentive conversation the way he’d learned to do a lifetime ago.

Giotto watched Timoteo grow up. There is no skeleton in his closet that Giotto did not witness him stashing away. But he is old and past his prime and he will soon learn that his successor is not as easy to control as he’d hoped, as he thinks, so Giotto can smile back now and give him his momentary triumph, smile and sip his wine and not let his eyes linger on every bite of food Timoteo takes.

During a lull in the conversation, he turns and catches Mukuro’s eye. His Mist is seated beside his female counterpart, all the way at the end of the line, farthest from his Sky to any outsider’s eye. But Mukuro smirks back from behind his cloth napkin, and as the Nono’s dessert is carried in, the faint twist of Mist Flames - unnoticed by all except two - darts into the panna cotta.

Timoteo eats his fill, compliments the chef, beams at Giotto’s gently filial fussing again like the kindly grandfather he excels at pretending to be, and nobody thinks to question how masterfully Giotto draws all attention to himself and his rowdier Guardians, never letting the generally jovial mood falter, his Sky Flames a subtle pulsing encouragement beneath it all to distract them from the knife at their backs.

The whole affair is a success. At the very least, nobody threw any food, no fights broke out, and no one lost their tempers. It almost feels like a miracle.

They part ways in groups, and to their credit, Hayato and Kyouya only try to kill each other after the elder Vongola party is gone. It doesn’t take long for Ryouhei to join in, and at a glance from Mukuro, Chrome scoops Lambo up and picks up her pace to catch up to a laughing Takeshi.

Mukuro falls into step beside Giotto. Giotto had asked, after the Arcobaleno business was finally over, if Mukuro would stay. Mukuro had asked what Giotto would offer if he did.

“A place in my Family, for you and yours,” Giotto had sworn. “And a hand in toppling the Vongola Empire once and for all.”

Mukuro had smiled, ten years’ worth of another world’s memories behind it, and six lives’ worth of suffering driving his answer.

“Tsunayoshi would never have chosen this method,” Mukuro says now, voice pitched low but as idly as if he were commenting on the weather.

Giotto smiles, grim and long past the point of any return.

Tsuna was his favourite. He reminded Giotto of the man he used to be, when Vongola was still a goal wrapped in optimism and determination, before they’d become embroiled in the mafia and Giotto had spent the next four hundred years after his death watching his life’s work build itself a throne of corpses.

Tsuna was his favourite, but he was also an ideal Giotto won’t ever be again, and cannot be if he truly wants to see this iteration of Vongola dead in his second lifetime. Tsuna would’ve been eaten alive by Vongola - Giotto had seen an entire future’s worth of proof of that.

“I am not Tsunayoshi,” Giotto says, and it is another regret he will have to carry, but their world is neither kind nor fair, and Tsuna as he was would never have survived it.

Mukuro studies him, a thoughtful tilt to his head, and something like fascination glitters in his eyes. “No, you are not,” He agrees. “But that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

Giotto glances at him, then ahead, at children who had almost killed and been almost killed mere days ago, now roughhousing amongst themselves. “The world could do with more Tsunayoshis.”

“The world needs more of you,” Mukuro retorts just as swiftly, a sardonic sort of amusement in his smirk. “In that other future, Tsunayoshi proved beyond a doubt that everything he promised, he couldn’t keep, didn’t he? And yet here you are, Vongola Primo, poisoning your enemies over dinner, and just yesterday you had me hide you while you met with Gesso and Simon and Giglio Nero in private. You certainly don’t waste any time.” His smirk widens. “If Vongola isn’t careful, you’ll turn half of Europe against the older generation before they realize it.”

Giotto hums and doesn’t deny any of it. “You would be willing to aid me though?”

Mukuro arches an eyebrow, and his right eye flickers briefly with Mist Flames. “Have I not been doing so already?”

Giotto nods. “Yes, and I am grateful. But lending a hand now is not the same as devoting at least the next ten years of your life to a goal most would consider impossible. And I am not Tsunayoshi.”

Mukuro’s steps slow, then stop entirely. Giotto blinks and halts as well, half-turning.

���Does that matter so much to you?” Mukuro asks, peering at him with surprisingly genuine puzzlement. “Do you think it matters so much to me? That you are not Tsunayoshi?”

Giotto half-shrugs, and Mukuro shakes his head. “Tsunayoshi had a heart that I will never fully understand,” He says, blunt in a way he almost never is. “He was naive and foolish, hopeful and soft, and it made him as weak as it made him strong. I could trust him to never turn on Chrome or Ken or Chikusa, even if they or I tested his tolerance, but by that same logic, I could never have trusted him to stand firm against Vongola’s ideals, no matter what he proclaimed. And I was right, wasn’t I? In the end, Vongola destroyed him, and he became one of them.”

He pauses, his gaze sliding away, hands coming together to twist one of the rings on his fingers. Then he looks back at Giotto, and his next smirk is equal parts challenge and approval. “You though. You have witnessed the results of letting your previous Mist Guardian walk free, and spent years watching your descendants commit atrocities in the name of strengthening your organization. If I were to promise you my loyalty, and then betray you sometime down the road, you would slit my throat yourself. But at the same time, at least I know - you are both ruthless enough and determined enough to see your objectives through to the end, with a conviction that’s centuries in the making. The current Vongola would have to kill you to stop you.” His right eye flares indigo again. “So I suppose that is where I come in.”

Up ahead, the others turn a corner, still bickering. Giotto thinks Takeshi has probably noticed that he and Mukuro have fallen behind, and of course Chrome knows, but neither of them stops to wait either.

Mukuro steps back, once, twice, and Giotto’s eyes widen as the Mist lifts a hand to brush over the earring he hasn’t stopped wearing since he got it. And then… well.

The Mukuro from the future must’ve known how because this Mukuro doesn’t even look awkward as he drops to one knee and bows his head, just a dip, slow enough to look deliberate, proud enough to meet Giotto’s gaze again afterwards.

“You asked for ten years, Neo Primo,” Mukuro announces. “So, very well, I will pledge you ten years of my life, for you to use as you see fit, so long as you keep your word. We can revisit this in a decade, but for the next ten years, I will make you untouchable to your enemies and sow discord amongst them in your name.” He smiles and it’s a mad and bloodthirsty thing, the same furious hateful beast he’d aimed at Daemon Spade when he’d sought to rip Chrome from Mukuro’s side. “And should the worst come to pass and I go the way of my predecessor, may my life be forfeit at your hands.”

He reaches up, catches Giotto’s hand in his own, and his red eye glows as orange and indigo burst into existence between their fingers, a blaze of light under the night sky as they twine together, fierce and unyielding and true.

They both gasp from the surge of power that rushes through them as the Guardian bond snaps into place, the first one Giotto will ever have in this body, the first one in over four hundred years, a core of Flame that promises a home, something Daemon had never been able to give him, and Giotto doesn’t even think before he’s yanking Mukuro to his feet and reeling him close.

Tsuna had been short for his age so Giotto isn’t quite eye-level with his new Mist, but it hardly matters when he curls a near-bruising grip along Mukuro’s jaw and sees the same hunger and possessiveness he feels reflected in the illusionist’s eyes.

“A Guardian bond is not something I take lightly,” Giotto murmurs, and he knows even without a mirror that his own Flames are burning in his eyes. “You are mine now, and I do not share. In ten years, you will pledge another ten, and another ten after that, and any who dare to try and take you from me, I would run rivers red with their lifeblood.”

(These oaths are old, old and binding and near-forgotten, bastardized ten ways to Sunday but still echoing of power, and even in Giotto’s time, only G and Ugetsu had sworn them. That his new reign would begin with one, when as far as Giotto knows, none have spoken them in centuries - perhaps it speaks of the dawn of a new age.)

Mukuro inhales shakily, not at all prepared for the sheer depth and intensity of a true Flame bond. But the grip he has on Giotto’s wrist is just as tight as Giotto’s, and it only takes him another breath to regain his bearings.

“As you Will it, Giotto,” Mukuro murmurs, and it crackles over Giotto’s skin. No one has spoken his name since his resurrection.

The bond settles between them, calm now but no less potent. Giotto lets go, tickling a tongue of Sun-tinted Sky Flame along Mukuro’s skin to soothe the sting left behind. Mukuro only huffs a breath of laughter, gaze still unwavering on Giotto’s face.

“Well then,” The Mist - Giotto’s Mist - smiles, quieter, more serene, like a glass-spun secret cloaked in shadow, but exultantly bright all the same. “Long live the new King. May your reign be long and prosperous.”

[lilulo-12fanfiction]

Flicker, Fade Part 1

Here it finally is! So this is definitely going to be a multi-part story. I’m not sure if it’ll be 2 or 3 parts yet. We all know how wordy I like to get. I’m having fun with this one. I hope you enjoy it! I love writing OC characters because I like being able to describe their appearance. This story gives me the opportunity to do that, but still use it as a reader insert.

The word count obscene 15,000 even. I’m so sorry!

This is a combo of two requests.  @justkending​ requested a Steve Rogers x Reader with prompts: “I warned you about him, yet again you didn’t listen.” and “It’s 6am- you’re not having vodka.  @asgardiangurll​ requested a Steve Rogers x Reader with with  prompts:”I’m never going to stop protecting you.”“You are seriously like a man child”

As always likes, comments and reblogs are SO APPRECIATED. Requests are open (Avengers, Supernatural, TVD/The Originals. I do dabble in some Green Arrow and The Flash (DC TV Only please). Prompt list can be found here.

Please let me know if you would like to be added to this tag list or one of my others.

Avengers Tag List: @shreddedparchment @fanfictionjunkie1112​ @this-is-mycrisis​ @geeksareunique​ @mikariell95​

Avengers Masterlist

Fate is a funny thing. Your mother always used to tell you that everything happened for a reason. The idea that going through difficult times to prepare you for what was to come or to lead you to something better kept you going, even in your darkest of times. 

You grew up in New England with your mother, father and baby sister Ella. She had been the best surprise of your lives. You were 13 when your mother got pregnant. Everything happens for a reason and you were thrilled to have a sibling.

You were sassy and sarcastic just like your mother. You got your intelligence from your father and while things typically came easy to you; Your parents had made sure you were sufficiently challenged and worked incredibly hard. You had been granted the honor of Valedictorian your senior year in High School. 

As a graduation gift and an 18th birthday present, You, your parents and your sister took a trip to tour Europe. You had never been happier.l, you were one of those kids that would rather hang out with your parents than a bunch of friends. Spending time with Ella was the highlight of your day, every day. The day of your 18th birthday had been one of your happiest. You spent an incredible day at Brighton Beach building sand castles with Ella and enjoying the amusement park rides in the seaside resort town. Her laugh as you whipped around the tilt-a-whirl would be embedded in your soul for the rest of your days. Your dad had ridden with you on all of the roller coasters and rides deemed too scary by Ella. Your mom wasn’t much of a ride person, but damn did she love her carnival games. Once you were back in London, your life would be changed forever. One moment your father was driving the three of you down the street laughing about how strange it was to drive on the opposite side of the street and the next you were being T-Boned by another vehicle.

Your parents and sister had been killed on impact. You had barely survived. Someone had pulled you from the wreckage. You were rushed to the hospital and woke up 2 days later. Before you even opened your eyes you knew something was different. You were completely healed. No lasting injuries, no deficits except the gaping hole in your heart. The doctor there tried to calm your anxieties, telling you everything was fine and you were just lucky. Somehow you knew the doctor was lying to you about how you had been treated. That night you had gone into the bathroom to examine yourself and were shocked by what you saw. Your natural hair color had been transformed into a  liquid black that cascaded down your body. The most startling change was your eyes. Your once very normal eye color had been transformed into a shade of violet. 

You had been frantically studying your altered appearance when the little girl sharing your hospital room bad woken up crying after a nightmare. You had sat down on her bed to comfort her. That was when you knew someone in that hospital had done something to you. By simply placing your hand over her arm, the bruises she had from falling out of a tree healed. You had heard about enhanced humans, you had seen them on your TV. Someone had turned you into one. The doctors that healed you had no idea what they had created, they couldn’t have. They never would have let you leave. The fear of becoming a lab rat caused you to keep it to yourself and when they finally discharged you, you got back to the US as fast as you could. 

You had tried to dye your hair back to its normal state, but nothing would change the jet black that framed you. You took to wearing blue contacts to make your eyes appear a more normal color. You found out the doctor that treated, turned you into what you had become was looking for you. Once your family was returned home and buried you disappeared from everything you had known and loved about your home. You effectively erased Y/N Y/L/N from existence by faking your own death. People were led to believe you took your own life. After loosing everything you loved it wasn’t hard for people to believe. You had to leave everything about who you were behind. 

Three years later, with a new identity, you were living in New York City working as a freelance journalist. You had changed your name to Camille Ballard and were trying to live a semblance of a normal life pretending you didn’t have any special abilities when a man opened fire on a huge crowd. You had grabbed a nearby child, held them close to you to protect them. Without evening trying, you formed a purple force field around the two of you, saving both of your lives. As soon as you realized what happened, you rushed home and packed as much of your belongings as fast as you could and planned on making a break for it. If that doctor saw footage of what you just did, he might figure out you were alive and come looking again. 

Luckily for you, Iron Man had been there to help with the situation and saw what you had done. Before you had the chance to catch a bus, he found you and was set on recruiting you for The Avengers.

 “Mr. Stark...you’re mistaken. That wasn’t me. I’m nobody. I’m like a ghost.” You were desperate to convince him you weren’t who he thought you was. But he knew.

“Then why are you trying to bolt with almost everything you own? C’mon kid...you don’t have to live a life on the run. I can help you. You don’t HAVE to be a ghost.” He wouldn’t relent and he wouldn’t let you leave. 

Even though everything in your brain told you to run, your lonely heart was begging you to trust him, to let him in. He had saved the world more than once and here he was offering to save you. Your heart won and you broke down and told him your story. Tony Stark, with all of his bravado held you as you sobbed for your lost family, your identity and assuaged your fears of not knowing what had been done to you. 

“Cam...I can call you Cam right?” His kind smile put you at ease. He made quite a few promises to you. He offered you a home and a family of sorts. He promised that he would find out what had been done to you. He promised to give you a purpose. Just like you knew that doctor was lying to you the day your parents died, you knew you could trust Tony Stark. Your mother’s voice telling you everything happened for a reason echoed in your brain. You had been given a gift, it was your responsibility to use it to do something good in this world. It was the best way to honor your parents and sister.

Tony eased you into life at The Avengers compound. He insisted you see a trauma counselor to really deal with the loss of your family. You had protested at first, you didn’t want to open up those wounds. He brought you to meet Pepper. She was the one that convinced you to get the emotional help you needed. She told you about Tony’s PTSD and how it had affected both of them. She promised that she and Tony would be there for you as you dealt with all of the pain you had buried for years. You finally agreed.

Once you were settled, Tony and Bruce began running tests to see if they could figure out what had happened to you. Best they could tell, someone had injected you with a serum, they just couldn’t figure out exactly what it was. Clearly it had been experimental because neither of them had seen anything like your blood work before.  Bruce had been fascinated by your blood test results. Tony had been able to get his hands on old blood work from a well child visit when you were a kid to compare it to your blood today. 

“Whatever they gave you changed your DNA entirely.” Bruce had been entirely fascinated until he saw the look on your face. “I’m sorry Camille. I know you feel like a science project.” Bruce knew all too well what it was like to be changed to your core. You realized that day you had made the right decision by coming to the compound. For the first time in years, you didn’t feel alone.

6 months after you had gotten there Tony had taken to calling you The Protector. You could heal yourself and others. Your fight or flight response produced the protective force field that would encompass you and anyone close to you. After a few months of work you could create them on demand. Your enhancements also made you as close to a human lie detector as someone could get. It took intense concentration to be able to tell if someone was trying to deceive you. Your new abilities made it so you couldn’t be hurt by anything physically or emotionally by anyone’s lies.

Once you had handle on what you could do, you needed to be able to fight, protective force fields weren’t enough. Offense was just as important as defense. Tony had paired you up with Bucky Barnes for your training. He and Bucky had gotten past their differences and Tony was in a mission to help put the Sergeant back together again. Tony was good at fixing people. You were Bucky’s first real assignment. Tony had a feeling that you would help James Barnes as much as he would help you.

Tony had been right. You kept a wall around yourself built with bricks of sarcasm, sass and witty comebacks.  Bucky recognized this immediately and sought to dismantle your carefully constructed barrier to block anyone from getting too close to you. One night he had pushed you past your limits and you had broken down. Once the floodgates opened you couldn’t shut them. Bucky was the only other person you confided your full story in. Like Tony, you knew your secrets were safe with him. 

Bucky had experienced his fair share of loss. He had been experimented on without his permission. He understood, he could empathize. He used your training to help you work through your anger and grief. You excelled under his instruction. You were a hell of a hand to hand fighter and other than Bucky you had the best shot in the compound. Your aim and speed with a firearm was impeccable. Slowly, Bucky became your best friend.

After almost two years of hard work and training you had been officially made an Avenger and had been working mission after mission for almost 8 months straight. It felt great to be able to help so many people, including your teammates. But you needed a little break to recharge. You requested some time off and decided to let loose a little bit. You had spent the evening out with some of the SHEILD agents. You had become friends with a couple of the girls that were in the cadet training program. 

“Cami, I warned you about him, yet again you didn’t listen. You never listen when it comes to guys.” Bucky was giving you the once over. 6AM and you had stumbled back into the compound. You had stayed with one of the girls to sober up a little bit and were hoping to sneak back in unnoticed but Bucky was up early to train with Steve.

“I know...I know. But he was so cute, I was hoping he’d try to be a gentleman.” You pulled a bottle of Tony’s expensive Vodka out of the cabinet Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Just trying to ease into the hangover.” He grinned and shook his head. As you poured a shot, the bane of your existence stormed into the kitchen. Steve Rogers looked your tight jeans, heels and fitted black T-Shirt and scoffed in judgment.

“There you are Camille, I’ve been trying to find you since last night. Are you just getting home?” You gave him a deadpanned look. “Is there a reason why Agent Harrington is out of field work for two weeks with a broken nose and two black eyes and a concussion?” He had his hand on his hip and he was glowering at you.

“Well Agent Handsy was given fair warning” Bucky leaned against the counter. Watching you and Steve verbally spar was his favorite show. You said you hated Steve and his self righteous attitude. Steve said you got under his skin and didn’t appreciate your mouth and sarcasm. It was really a poor way to veil your mutual attraction. He saw how your eyes would linger on Steve while training. He watched Steve’s eyes soften on you anytime he thought no one was looking.

“What do you mean?” Steve’s voice dropped lower. First he was ready to rip you a new one, but he didn’t like the idea of anyone putting unwelcome hands on you. He rolled his jaw wanting to give the agent a few injuries himself.

“He thought that buying me two drinks gave him permission to put his hands on my ass. I told him otherwise. He did it again and I told him if he didn’t keep his hands to himself I was going to break his face. He thought that was an invitation to try and dip his hand down the back of my pants. I saw that as an invitation to bash his face into the bar. Maybe he’ll listen to the next girl and keep his hands to himself. Maybe if he apologizes, and means it, I’ll heal his pretty boy face.” It was out of character for you to lay hands on someone like that, but you couldn’t help but think of him doing this to some other poor girl who couldn’t stop him. He needed to be taught a lesson.

“That’s my girl!” Bucky laughed. The douchebag had it coming  in his opinion. He was proud of you for sticking up for yourself.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t reprimand your for defending yourself . “I’ll have a talk with him.” You raised both of your eyebrows at Bucky in surprise. It didn’t matter what you did or the reasoning, Steve was usually pissed at you. He took the shot from in front of you and dumped it down the sink. Your jaw dropped and you glared at him. 

“Hey!” You protested. It was Steve’s turn to roll his eyes.

“It’s 6am- you’re not having vodka.” You threw your hands up.

“What are you my dad? I’m on vacation.” You tried to reason, tone laced with sass, arms crossed in front of you. It was sometimes hard for Steve to believe you weren’t somehow related to Tony Stark.

“About that. I have a mission in South America and you need to come with me.” As much as your attitude pissed Steve off, you were a good teammate and excellent at what you did. You deserved some time to yourself, but he needed your skill set.

“What? No! C’mon! you promised me 7 full days off Freeze Pop.” Steve rolled his jaw at the nickname silently cursing Tony. His frustration with you was building up again. Why couldn’t you just do as you were asked, just once, without arguing.  

“You speak Spanish fluently and I need a female agent with me.”

“So does Natasha. Last I checked she was also a female. Take her. I’m not really interested in pretending to be your significant other.” You knew the mission that he was referring to. The target was in vacation with his wife at some resort. The plan has been for a pair to pose as a couple on their honey moon to gain access to the resort and get closer and obtain as much intel as possible. 

“It’s a recon mission. We only have one working appearance enhancer so I won’t be recognized. Nat is too recognizable. Plus you also have an uncanny ability to sense when someone is lying.”

“Natasha is an ex super spy. She would figure it out!” You knew you were fighting a loosing battle. Steve didn’t know why you really had asked for the time off, and you weren’t about to share your deepest secrets with him.

“Look, Nat is with Clint and his family for the weekend. I’m not asking her to come back.” Steve was fighting the urge to yell at you. He just wanted you to be compliant, just this one time. The idea of being close to you and alone with you had him unnerved.

“Of course. We wouldn’t want to ruin HER time off. This is bullshit!” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. You knew you were acting like a brat. You wouldn’t ask Natasha to come back. You were hoping to get him to push the mission back. Bucky’s head bounced back and forth between the two of you. He watched as Steve’s jaw clenched one more time and the little vein in his forehead pop. You were one of the few that brought this side of him out. He had infinite patience for anyone but you.

“ENOUGH!l He finally snapped. “Agent Romanoff has more than paid her dues! She’s been at it for years! I’m not going to drag her back from time with what she considers her family so you can go on a bender.” You took a few steps back and recoiled. Steve immediately regretted it. “Camille...”

“No it’s fine Captain. I get it. My need for a break is less important because what? I’ve been fighting with you for less time? I haven’t paid enough dues for you yet? Got it. Let me go get some sleep so I’ll be refreshed enough to serve you. Send me the itinerary so I’m ready when wheels go up. I’m a B-Team Avenger. No one knows who I am so for once in your eyes it makes me an asset.” You turned quicker not wanting him to see how upset you were. He wouldn’t understand why you were so upset. You thought it better he see you as a selfish brat than a broken woman.

“Cam...” Bucky’s voice trailed and you avoided his grasp. 

“It’s fine Buck.” You quickly retreated. You’d be damned if you let Steve have the satisfaction of making you cry. If he knew the real reason you were brought to tears he wouldn’t revel in it. To Steve Rogers you were young, bratty and had a problem with authority. You’d like to keep it that way. It protected you. 

Bucky gave Steve a dirty look and threw his hands up. “I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.” Steve deflated. “She’s just so infuriating. Every time she rolls her eyes at me I want to throttle her. It’s not like she can’t have her time off after we get back.” Your reaction didn’t sit right with Steve. You gave him a hard time, all the time, that was true. But you never argued about a mission. 

“You know...if you dealt with your feelings, you might be able to keep it together with her." Bucky shook his head and started retreating from the kitchen. Steve cared about you, anyone that knew you could see you were funny, smart, caring and willing to put yourself on the line for anyone else. But you were afraid of letting too many people get close to you. Bucky knew you were afraid to really care about someone and lose them like you did your family. He knew you felt something for Steve Rogers too. So you kept him at arms length with attitude that drove Steve up the wall. 

"Feelings? I have no feelings." Steve's face clouded with confusion. Bucky dramatically rolled his eyes. Apparently everyone was spending too much time with Tony. He turned and headed to follow you. “I thought we were training?” Steve called after Bucky.

"I'm going to check on Cami and make sure she's alright.” Bucky pauses for a moment. “There’s a reason why she gets under your skin. Ponder that.” Steve groaned as he watched Bucky retreating down the hallway.

***

"Hey! Knock much?!” You yelled out covering your shirtless torso with your blanket as Bucky barged in. He wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

"That’s what you get for giving me the code to your room. Nothing I haven't seen before."

"Um...you haven't seen mine." He grinned at you and shut your door.

"Eh...you see one set, you've seen them all." you shook your head and rolled your eyes. 

“You are seriously like a man child. Stop ogling me or I’m telling Nat.” You grabbed your shirt and turned around to throw it over your body. Bucky and Nat had been dating for about 6 months. You had watched him pine after her while he had been training you. It had been a relief when she finally made a move because he clearly never would. They were an excellent couple. 

“Umm, hate to break it to you but Nat and I ogle you together behind your back. You’re hot and you have a killer ass. Plus she knows we’re BFFs and nothing is ever going to happen between us.” You felt your face heat up and  laughed out loud at the thought of Bucky and Nat checking you out together.

“What do you want Bucky?" you asked while laughing.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright. He didn't mean it like that."

"I know. I'm just oversensitive and cranky because I only slept like 3 hours. I'll be fine after a nap."  You climbed into your bed and rolled onto your side, your back facing Bucky. You were oversensitive, but you weren't fine. You felt a melt down bubbling under the surface. You just wanted Bucky to leave so you could do so in peace. Not that he hadn't ever seen you cry before, you just hated an audience. Instead of hearing him leave, you felt the bed sink as he sat down next to you.

“He doesn’t know why you wanted this week in particular off. If you would open up to him or to anyone else a little bit more they would all be there for you, support you. C’mon Cam, look at me.”  When you didn’t respond, Bucky sighed, brushed the hair off the side of your face. “I wish you would talk to him. I think if you guys put your egos in check and opened up to each other you’d be really close. You should tell him it’s the anniversary of the accident. He’d want to be there for you. Steve is a good guy. The best guy I’ve ever known. You just needle each other. You’re the first person to really challenge him other than Tony. He doesn’t know how to handle it.”  You scoffed. Steve Rogers was a first class asshole to you ever since your first mission with him. You sensed the mission was a set up, your insides had felt like they were on fire. You tried to tell him but he pushed forward with the mission. Sam has gotten pretty hurt. After you healed him you had lost your shit on Steve. It had been downhill from there. It was messed up, but you got a rush out of giving him a hard time. 

You hated to admit it, but Steve Rogers was the most attractive asshole you’d ever laid eyes on. You often found yourself daydreaming about his hands. You had a thing for his hands. You got goosebumps anytime he touched you. He had gripped your hips one day trying to adjust your stance and it took all of your self-control not to throw yourself at him. And then there were his lips. His perfect pink lips that you wanted to devour just to shut him up. 

You were jolted from your thoughts as Bucky leaned over and kissed your cheek. “I’ll come back in a couple of hours to wake you up with coffee and some food. Then I’ll help you pack for your ‘couples retreat’. By the way, I expect hilarious text updates since I won’t be there to witness the shit show of this mission.” You didn’t need to turn to picture the stupid smirk on his face. You and Steve would be investigating a crime ring. Some rich white guy hiding in Buenos Aires. Illegal arms deals, drugs, and pretty much anything else nefarious was in this guys wheelhouse. That was why Steve needed a female agent that wasn’t well known yet. He would be expecting the Avengers. This guy would see Natasha coming from 29 miles away. 

“Thanks Bucky. In all seriousness you have saved me in so many ways.” you mumbled as he stood up to leave.

“Anytime kid, anytime.” He slowly retreated as you settled into your bed to go to sleep.

True to his word, Bucky came back with food and coffee a few hours later expecting to have to drag you from your bed. Instead he found you standing in front of the mirror on your closet door studying yourself. Freshly showered, your long black hair was fastened into a braid that served as your crown. It had taken one guy to grab you by the ponytail during a mission for you to change your hairstyle. That braided crown was now your signature look. 

Instead of your black body suit you wore on missions you were clad in denim shorts and a tank top with tropical flowers and a pair of flip flops. ucky had a feeling the short shorts were to get under the skin of a certain Super Soldier.t. The blase look on your face told him you didn’t even realize you were dressed to drive Steve Rogers mad. You would have a certain gleam in your eye any time you did something to torture the poor Captain. He had seen Steve staring at your ass many times. Bucky took pleasure in the deep blush on Steve’s face any time he called him out. Those shorts were going to drive him insane.

“No suit?” You looked up when he questioned you.

“Not needed. It’s packed but we’re going to the safe house first and then we’ll take a cab to the hotel to make it look like we came from the airport.”

“You look cute.” He grinned. You threw a sneaker at him that he easily dodged.

“South America in the summer is stifling.” Your voice was flat, missing the normal spark. 

“Doll, did you even sleep?” You looked over at him with a sad smile. It was jarring to see you so vulnerable. Bucky knew it had to feel good to let your guard down and just feel your feelings. You didn’t do it often. It was reserved for himself and Tony. He just hated that empty look in your eyes. 

“That shot of Vodka would have helped.” You took a long sip of the coffee he brought you. “I’ll be fine Sergeant. Actually maybe working is better than not working.” Bucky pulled you into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry Cam. I really am. I wish I could go back and change everything for you.” You pulled back and looked at him.

“No. Everything happens for a reason. I have to believe that my parents and sister were saved from something much worse. I can’t live in regret or in the past. I’ve always given myself these few days to wallow. Maybe it’s time I move on from that too.” 

“You’re so wise.” He grinned trying to lighten to mood. You groaned and pushed him away. He sat with you in a comfortable silence as you ate.

“When does Nat come back?” You finally spoke.

“Couple of days. She wanted me to tell you how sorry she was that she’s not here so you didn’t have to go.” You shook your head.

“You tell her there is nothing to be sorry for. She deserves her time with those kids. I know how much she loves them. I’m not mad at her and you know I really wouldn’t have let Steve call her back. He just caught me off guard.” Bucky picked up your bags and nodded to the door. 

“C’mon, I’ll walk you to the jet.” You followed Bucky out of your room, part of you dreading this mission with Steve and part of you excited at the idea of really being alone with him.

***

“Agent Harrington- I expect that you’ve learned your lesson and will be keeping your hands to yourself from now on.” Steve glowered over the young agent. He had been ripping into him for the past half an hour. 

“Seriously? Look what she did to me?!” He finally erupted. 

“You put your hand in her pants. And before you try to deny it, someone already corroborated.” 

“Of course they did.” Steve was appalled that he was showing no remorse what so ever.

“Something like this happens again and you will be discharged from this program, do you understand me?” He finally relented. 

“Yes Sir.” He dropped his attitude. As he turned to leave you stood there with Bucky wide eyed. You thought Steve’s ire was reserved just for you. You hadn’t expected him to defend your honor. Steve’s deep blue eyes met yours for a moment and the fire behind them made your heart clench. Agent Harrington gave you an icy stare as he walked past you, but you were too busy staring at Steve to notice.

“I’m just gonna put your bags in the jet.” Bucky rushed past Steve to give the two of you a moment.

“He touches you again...he even glances in your direction in an unsavory way and you tell me.” Steve’s voice was low. You could only nod as your mouth had gone completely dry.” You blinked back shock a few times.   

“Th-Thanks.” you finally managed to stutter. You couldn’t get over the way he was looking at you.

“There she is!” Steve watched your face light up at the sound of Tony’s voice, disappointed that he wasn't the one that caused the excitement in your eyes.

“I’ll meet you on the Jet. Take off in 5.” You nodded and turned to Tony.

“What are you doing here?” You didn’t think Tony was even on site today. 

“Well...Cap told me about the impromptu mission so I just wanted to check on you. I know this is a hard few days for you.” He had his hand on your cheek and was smiling down at you. Tony Stark was looking at you like his own daughter. It choked you up a little bit.

“I’ll be fine. It’s probably better I’m going to be busy.”

“You sure? I can put the kibosh on this whole thing. Rogers thinks he’s in charge but we all know it’s me.” You laughed and he hugged you. "Did you get a chance to read the case file?"

"Yes Tony. Martin Cobb. Top one percenter, runs a BioTech firm Cobb International and owns multiple properties. We've got tips that he may be smuggling street drugs and illegals arms through the southern border. We're going down to whatever the hell that resort in Argentina is called. We received intel that he and his wife will be there this week. We're going in just looking for information from any of his associates and to get eyes on Cobb and watch him interact."

"Okay, just wanted to make sure you had everything. Don't do anything stupid. If you can interact with him safely, great. If not, stay away from him. We just want info, we don't want to tip our hand just yet." You nodded at Tony and he hugged you again. "When you get back, we're celebrating your birthday." He held his finger up before you could argue. "Yes. It's been 5 years. You should be celebrated." As much as you wanted to argue with him, you knew it was pointless. You simply hugged him again, thankful that he came into your life when he did.

Across the hangar, Steve was watching you and Tony with intrigue. He looked over at Bucky.

“What’s going on with her? Why is Tony here.” Steve rolled his eyes as Bucky shrugged. Frustrated that he knew there was something deeper here, but that no one would tell him. “Look I know there are things about her that I don’t know. I know she’s confided in you. Tony found her, I don’t even know where, and he kept her hidden for months and then he’d only let you train her. Is there something I should be worried about? Is there something I should know?” Bucky put your bags down.

“I can’t share her story. That’s for her to decide to share. She’s fine. You know Tony loves her like she’s his own kid. She’s never gone on a mission that he hasn’t seen her off on if he wasn’t going. She’s been through some shit. Tony knew that she and I would be a good fit. And he was right. Just try and not to let her get to you. Try keeping your temper in check and maybe she’ll open up to you.“ Steve did have a short fuse when it came to you. 

“Rogers! Take care of my girl!” Tony yelled as you stepped towards the jet.

“Bye Bucky.” You gave him a quick side hug. “Ready Captain?” The mischief was back in your eye. He watched you walk onto the jet and groaned a little. You were going to kill him over these next few days if you were wearing outfits like that. Bucky clapped him on the shoulder but kept his comments to himself and headed back inside of the compound.

***

You were following Steve into the safe house from the jet. He was carrying 99% of everything. He’d only relented to let you carry your own bags. It must have been a 40s thing. He and Bucky would rather walk on hot coals than let you open your own door or carry more than them. You laughed when you entered the little cabin. While it didn’t look like much in the outside, it was very clearly a Tony Stark property.

“What’s funny?” He turned to you. It was a genuine question, you were used to his voice being laced with irritation

“I think safe house...I don’t think California King, high tech computers and what I’m assuming is a stocked fridge.” The one room cabin had a kitchen that led to a huge room with the large bed, a decent size couch against the wall and a computer station with dual monitors.

“That’s Tony for you.” You hummed in response. “So I just have to check a few things before we go to the hotel. You could uh, take a nap if you want. You look tired.” Your brow furrowed. Normally he would have lectured you about not getting more rest and being out all night. This must have been written across your face because he followed it up. "I know this mission wasn't planned."

“Can’t sleep.” You simply stated. You saw concern lacing his features. “I could use some fresh air. I’m going to check out our private beach if you’re sure you don’t need me?” The idea of a private beach for a "safe house" was hilarious to you. 

“I’ll come get you when we’re ready to go. You nodded and headed to the back door. You paused before opening it and looked back to find Steve still staring at you. You gave him a small smile, still unnerved and slipped out the back door.

The warm briny air assaulted your senses, bringing you back to the last day with your family so many years ago. You sat down in the sand far enough back so were you were seated was dry, but just close enough to the water to where the waves washed over your feet and ankles as you extended them out. The tide was strong, you assumed that storms would be headed this way within a few days. Hopefully you and Steve were back home before that happened. 

"Y/N! Y/N! Look at my sand castle!" Ella's excited voice flooded your memories. Her vibrant face and brilliant eyes laced with happiness as she pulled you to the little mound of sand she had created. 

"Wow Ella, that's beautiful. What do you say we make a mansion for all of the little sea creatures here?" You sat down in the wet sand and grabbed her shovel and pales and began building your masterpiece. 

Ella's giggles rang through the air as the tilt-a-whirl spun you around and slammed her little body into yours. "Again! Again!" She yelled as she dragged you off of the ride and back into the line.

You watched from a distance as your mother and Ella pointed the water guns at their targets, trying to get Ella a bigger, better prize as your father stood with his arm around you in line for the roller coaster. He pulled you close to him for a side hug. "I'm so proud of you Y/N. You worked so hard. You're an amazing sister. We're all going to miss you so much when you're at college in the fall. I can't wait to see the amazing things you do with your life. Happy Birthday sweetheart."

Metal crunching. Screams. The smell of copper assaulting your senses as you felt someone grip you by the waist and pull you out of the back seat. Flashing lights and sirens.

Your brain was assaulted with memories you often pushed down, but when you felt the foamy water hit your toes....you couldn't stop it. You didn't notice anyone approaching, not realizing you had been outside for almost an hour. After sitting for a while, you had stood and slowly strolled along the shore trying to push out the horrific memories of the accident and replace them with the happy ones of that day. You defensively smacked a hand away that gripped your shoulder your brought your foot down in a sweep to knock them down and spun, ready for a fight. The man sitting in front of you had Auburn hair and hazel eyes. You had no idea who he was, but then you gave yourself a second to notice his other features. That jaw line was unmistakable and you would recognize his hands anywhere. It took you a moment to realize who you were looking at and what you had done.

"Oh my god, Steve I'm so sorry. You scared the hell out of me. I’m- I’m not wearing the contacts so I couldn’t see through the appearance changing thing. I didn’t  realize." You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. You put your hand out and helped pull him to his feet. 

"It's okay. I didn't mean to scare you. I called your name but you didn't hear me. I forgot I looked different. Great reflexes by the way. Wait...are you crying? Why are you crying?" You quickly wiped the tears from your face, looking away.

"I'm not...it's, it's nothing. I'm fine." you stammered, cursing yourself for not being more self aware. Steve took a tentative step towards you, when you didn't flinch back, he put his hand on your cheek and turned your face back to him.

"It's not nothing. You wouldn't cry over nothing." He wiped a stray tear from your cheek. The way he was looking at you made you want to break down and tell him all of your secrets. Instead, you steeled yourself. Steve could literally see something change in your eyes as you pulled yourself together.

"You know I'm dramatic Steve." you adverted your eyes again. You felt his body deflate as he sighed.

"Camille...please don't do that. Please don't. Please don't cheapen your feelings and act like it's trivial." You felt your defenses building.

"Why do you care Steve? You hate me." You felt guilty as you saw a look of hurt pass his eyes.

"I...I don't hate you. I know I give you a hard time. But I don't hate you." 

"Can we please just drop this? Please?" He dropped his hand. 

"The cab will be here in a half an hour. It's about a 15 minute walk from the cabin through the woods where we're being picked up so no one is tipped off to the safe house. Meet me out front in 10." He turned to walk back to the house, not waiting for your response. Life was easier when you thought Steve Rogers hated you. You put your hand on your cheek, it still tingled from where he touched you. 

***

You were going to die, you were certain of it. It was almost July in Argentina and it was a balmy 105 degrees. The air was thick with humidity. You had been walking for 10 minutes and were certain you were going to pass out.

"Steve...we have to stop for a second." You were so irritated with his Super Solider perfection. He had both of your bags thrown over his shoulders, heavy jeans and a t-shirt on ad was barely breaking a sweat while hiking through the woods to get to your destination. You, on the other hand were wearing barely any shorts and a tank top, your face was bright red and you could feel sweat dripping down your back.

"Cam...we're going to miss the cab. We're literally like 5 minutes from where we need to be." He was trying not to be irritated with you. When he saw you, leaning over with your hands on your knees he wanted to just pick you up and carry you too, but he knew you were to proud to ever allow that.

"How are you not dying in those pants?" You gestured at him.

"It's the serum. It regulates my temperature better than your body allows you to." 

"I kind of hate you right now." You gave him a crack of a smile.

"I can carry you." He offered, knowing you'd say no.

"I'd rather die. Though I may die anyway." You were thankful that your hair was off of your shoulders.

"We're almost there. I promise." You nodded and stood up straight again after wiping your face on the inside of your shirt.

"I have dibs on the shower as soon as we walk into that room." Steve laughed and nodded in agreement. You managed the last few minutes of the trek. You had gotten there just at the right time for the cab to pull up. Steve piled all of your belongings into the trunk and you were on your way.

You were murderous when you pulled up to the resort. The cab that had picked the two of you up had been rickety and run down. The air conditioning in the car was broken and even with all of the windows open, all you could smell was the cab drivers BO. Steve could sense your mounting irritation and without thinking took your hand and squeezed it to try and calm you down. He felt you stiffen for a moment and then relax without making any eye contact with him. After a 45 minute drive you arrived at the front of a ridiculous resort. You hopped out of the car trying not to gasp for fresh air as Steve paid the driver and grabbed your things. He put his hand on the small of your back to lead you into the hotel. It was time to put your game faces on and play the happy couple. 

Cold air blasted you in the face and Steve felt your whole body visibly relax from where his hand was rested. He led you over to the front desk as you looked around at the exorbitant display of wealth in front of your eyes.

"Mr. & Mrs. Buchanan checking in." Steve smiled kindly at the woman at the front desk. You had to hold back a snort. Clearly we were reaching the bottom of the barrel for cover names. Steve could see the twinkle in your eyes. 

"Ah yes...I see right here Mr. and Mrs. Grant Buchanan." It took all you had not to roll your eyes at how your identity was lost at your supposed marriage. "Congratulations! I trust your wedding was wonderful." you stuffed your left hand in your pocket to dig out the faux engagement ring and wedding band and discretely slipped them on. Steve had already placed his on before you left. You were afraid the sweat dripping from your body would make them fall off.

"It was. We actually eloped. Rather spend the money on a great trip." You felt yourself lie. You really didn't want to have to come up with fake wedding details. As a little girl, you had dreamed about a wedding of your own, but that all changed. Now you couldn't even imagine letting someone close enough to your heart. The front desk girl seemed disappointed.You tuned her and Steve out as they finished chatting as she checked you in. 

"Now I expect we'll see you both down here for dinner tonight. We have a wonderful band playing."

"Of course, we'll see you later tonight."  You both declined having a bell hop escort you to the room.

“I thought this guy wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow? Why do we have to go to dinner tonight.” Steve gave you a pointed look.

“Because we need to blend in. Participating in their activities is necessary. I don’t want to stand out for showing up only when he’s around. Plus maybe we'll be lucky enough to get some intel from his associates.” 

Steve opened the door for you to the room. You paused in the doorway. The rug what a deep red. The bed in the middle of the room was the largest bed you’d ever laid eyes on. It was on a massive gold head and foot board. The bedding was a rich cream. Mahogany night stands stood on each side. In front of the bed was a large cabinet with a huge flat screen TV. To the right was a matching desk with a brown leather chair. To the left led to a small living room area with a large brown plush couch and a table with two chairs against the wall. You could only imagine what the bathroom looked like. “This is...extra.” Steve shut the door behind you and carried your bags over to the couch. Your eyes flickered over to the closet at the garment bags hanging. You furrowed your brow. “What are those in the closet?”

“Tony apparently sent some items down, not trusting us to dress ourselves.” You laughed at the thought.

“Well he wasn’t wrong. I look like a hobo compared to the way some of those women were dressed.” 

“You don’t look like a hobo.” You felt Steve’s gaze on you as you turned to look at him. “You just don’t need to try that hard.” You felt your breath hitch in your throat. 

“Thanks.” What the hell was happening? Where was the Steve that cut you no slack and had something to say about everything you did? This was unexpected. You were prepared for the other Steve. “Hopefully Tony didn’t pack any dresses that make me look naked.” You turned as Steve scoffed.

“Tony would never send anything like that for you. He’d rather put you in a garbage bag that covered you neck to toe.” You pondered that and laughed.

“That is true. I’ve gotten the ‘you’re not going out like that’ lecture from him before.” 

“Go take a shower. I’ll check in back home.” You grabbed your bag to bring into the bathroom with you. You paused before you closed the door.

“Thank you Steve.” You shut the door quickly before he could respond. You felt yourself blushing again. You had to get control of yourself.

You looked around and immediately fell in love with the bathroom. There was a huge whirlpool tub and large shower stall with multiple shower heads. Your planned on requesting a bathroom upgrade when you got home.

You studied yourself in the mirror. All of the makeup had essentially melted off of your face. Though still braided, your hair was frizzy from the heat and humidity. You looked hideous. But Steve had looked at you like...you couldn’t finish the thought. You looked at your eyes. Tony has made this pair of contacts especially for you. They changed your purple eyes to a bluish grey color. 

You had wanted to open up to Steve on the beach. You wanted to tell him everything, mostly because you felt so damn lonely and you just wanted someone to hold you. No, you wanted him to hold you. You rolled your eyes at yourself and got yourself ready to shower. You couldn’t drag anyone into the mess that you were, especially not Steve Rogers.

A few hours later Steve was stepping out of the bathroom dressed in beige dress shorts and a cobalt blue linen shirt. Tony has sent loafers for him and these weird socks that only covered half of his feet so they couldn’t be seen. He looked around the room but didn’t see you. He didn’t think you would venture out on your own. He felt a little panicked, but then he saw you. You were standing out on the balcony looking out at the ocean. Your dark hair in waves down your back. You must have sensed him approaching because you turned and smiled at him. He wasn’t used to that. Normally you scowled at him. But that smile did something to him and he felt his heart rate speed up.

“You definitely don’t look homeless now.” He cracked. You tipped your head back and laughed. Tony could pick out clothes, he’d give him that. You were wearing a light teal silk dress that had white polka dots on it. It was a thin strapped v-neck wrap dress with a ruffled hem. You paired it with white strappy sandals.

“I don’t think I have ever seen your actual legs.” He felt a little self-conscious as you looked him up and down. “Are you wearing socks?” You scrunched you’re face up.

“Yes. You just can’t see them.” You roared with laughter.

“He packed you no show socks?!” You were stunning when you laughed. Steve only wished he could see your real eyes. They glowed magenta when you used your powers, but if you were laughing really hard they would show little sparks of the glowing color. The contacts covered that up. “That alone was worth the trip. You better watch it Captain. He’s going to make you high maintenance yet.” They way you called him Captain did things to him. 

“You’re hilarious.” He deadpanned. You grabbed his hand and pulled him outside.

“Look at this view.” Your room faces the ocean. The sky danced with pinks, yellow and oranges as the sun set. “Do you see how harsh the waves are. There’s a storm coming. It’s a few days off, but it’s brewing.”

“How do you know?” When you looked over you expected him to be challenging you, hoping to prove you wrong. He looked genuinely interested. Not a hint of sarcasm in sight.

“I, um, I grew up near Cape Cod. I learned how to tell when a storm was coming.”

“No accent?” He was perceptive, but you knew that. He was trained to be.

“I worked hard at hiding the accent. Stops people from asking questions.” He nodded and took the hint. That was the first real piece of information you had ever told him about your past. He didn’t want to push his luck.

“Ready Mrs. Buchanan?” He offered you his arm. You rolled your eyes.

“Bucky made the reservations for you, didn’t he? Such a narcissist."

"Actually, it was supposed to be Bucky and Nat that did this mission, but she ended up having to leave." Steve chuckled as you linked your arm through his, leading you down to the dining room.

You and Steve were at the bar waiting to be seated. It reminded you of a wedding cocktail party the way they had everything set up. They had waiters walking around with appetizers. They would be opening the dining room in an hour for everyone to be seated for dinner service. 

Playing Steve’s significant other wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be. You had to tell yourself that his comforting touches were an act. You forced herself to remember what he was really like. The “that’s not the way we do things agent” “you’re reckless, those force fields won’t be able to protect you from everything.” And so on and so on. You tried to march the criticism and the snarky comments through your brain, but with the way he was looking at you, the marching band refused to play.

He was sitting on a bar stool and you were standing in between his legs. Your insides were screaming for you to run away from the Captain, to say something hateful to annoy him you her heart wouldn’t allow you to form the words. You felt him put his hand on your lower back and pull you close so it looked like he was holding you in an embrace. 

“These three men behind me are known associates of Martin Cobb, I recognize them from some of the intel. I've heard them mention Mr. Cobb a few times, but they're speaking to fast,  I can’t understand what they’re saying.” You tried to concentrate on the words coming from their mouths but Steve was making it almost impossible. He had run the tip of his nose from your shoulder languidly up to your neck. You swallowed. You could sense the eyes of some of the resort employees on you and Steve. He was definitely putting on a show.

“They’re-“ You had to pause and clear your throat. “They’re discussing his arrival tomorrow. They are to proceed with caution as his wife will be here. He’s coming to see a shipment. They aren’t saying what it is though. The way they're talking, it has to be some sort of drug.” You felt Steve press a kiss to your shoulder, silently hating him for being so good at his job. He brought his lips up to your ear.

“Are you okay? Is this too much? I just, the people that work here seem to be rather interested in us. I'm starting to think they're on his payroll.” Steve Rogers, always the gentleman even when what he’s doing is part of the job. He pulled back to look you in the eyes. You nodded. 

"I was thinking the same thing. I may not be as inconspicuous as we originally thought."

“Your table is ready Mr. and Mrs. Buchanan." Steve stood and took your hand to lead you as he followed the hostess to a table in the middle of the restaurant. You looked around hoping for something more private. You didn't want anyone overhearing your conversation. It was like the hostess could read your mind. “I’m sure no one will mind a little PDA. Mostly everyone here is newly married or celebrating their relationship.” Steve pulled out your chair and helped you sit down. Once the hostess left, Steve reached across the table and took your hand. You couldn’t discern what was real and what was him putting on a show, but the roughness of his hands was intoxicating. You found yourself not wanting him to let go. “You okay?” He broke your trance and you looked up and smiled.

“I am, I just feel a little on edge. But there are a lot of people here. You know, Bucky is going to be disappointed we haven’t almost killed each other. He wanted stories.” Steve threw his head back and laughed.

“Of course he does.”

“This, um, trip, was more suited for him and Nat I think.” You didn't want to call it a mission and have anyone overhear.

“I think we're doing okay." You couldn't look away from him. "Clint called and said Laura was having a hard time and they could use someone to distract the girls. The baby has colic." You shuddered, you remembered how helacious your sister's colic had been. 

“You know I never would have let you call her back right? I shouldn’t have acted the way I did.” Steve, who was still holding your hand squeezed it.

“It’s forgotten. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. You have to know I don’t think of you as a secondary team member. You’ve saved so many people, including people on our own team.”

“Thanks Steve.” You were happy the lighting hid the blush on your cheeks. Your internally cringed at the amount of times you felt yourself blush. You felt like an idiot. The way Steve was looking at you, you felt like you couldn’t breath. He let go of your hand as the waiter approached. You took 3 long sips of your drink. You needed to shake Steve Rogers and his perfect eyes from your brain. 

The rest of the evening had been uneventful in regards to Martin Cobb intel. Soon after you were done eating, the men left. You had suggested going back to the room to try and get a jump on the next day, but Steve shook his head.

“I need to show you something first." Steve led you outside onto the beach. You took your heels off and carried them so you could walk with him. He had his arm around you as he led you further down to the other side of the resort.

"Are you taking me somewhere to kill me? Where are we going?" He snickered lightly. He stopped when he got to a path that led to a wooded area. 

"This is important. If you take this path right here, it cuts through the woods to the safe house. It's a short cut from. If we need to make a break for it...you go this way."

"You made me ride in that smelly cab for almost an hour when we could have cut through the woods? What is that building over there?" You saw a grey concrete building with a flat roof. It couldn’t have been more than two rooms on a single floor.

"I think someone would have noticed if we didn't arrive at the front entrance and were sneaking through the woods." You snorted when you laughed.  You were about to make a smart ass comment when Steve grabbed you by your waist and pulled you to him. Your eyes went wide as he pressed his lips to yours. After a moment, you kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck, running your hand up the back of his hair. You were so focused on how his tongue was tracing the your bottom lip and how it felt to have his hands gripping your hips that you almost didn’t hear the man that was barreling towards the two of you.

"HEY! You two! You can't be over here!" one of the workers was running towards the two of you. Steve pulled back and you let out an involuntary whine.

"I'm so sorry sir. We just started walking down the beach and got a little carried away with each other, I didn't realize how far from the resort we had wandered." He saw the guy coming, that was why he kissed you. You felt disappointment creeping in.

"This area is closed off to guests. Please, head back towards the resort." Steve took your hand and started leading you back the other way.

"Right. We're so sorry." You were still stunned. Steve hadn't even warned you that someone was coming. You glanced back towards the little building you saw. There was a reason why they didn’t want you over there. You were sure that building was important. Steve pulled you along. 

"It's alright...I know how young love is." The man chuckled as he followed you back. He didn't leave until the two of you were back in the hotel lobby. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Steve didn't say another word to you as he led you to the elevator or the entire ride up. Once you were back in your room and the door was shut behind you, he gave you a sheepish smile.

"I'm sorry. I just saw that guy almost running at us and I didn't want to blow our cover, I didn't have time to warn you." 

"No...it's...it was fine. You just surprised me. I'm going to go change." You quickly grabbed some clothes out of your bag. You felt yourself get brave and you turned back to Steve who’s eyes hasn’t left you. “You know...for being a century old, you’re not a bad kisser.” You gave him a small smile and then shut the bathroom door behind you as his cheeks blazed red. You leaned your back against the door and put your fingers to your lips. Not ever before in your life did a kiss make you feel like that. You took a few moments to compose yourself after you changed into a pair of spandex shorts and an over-sized Stark Industries T-Shirt. 

As you exited the bathroom, Steve was standing near your bag with a strange expression on his face. You looked down and saw the picture that you brought with you everywhere in his hands. You took a few strides over to him and yanked it from his hands.

“It- it fell out of your bag. Is- Is that you?” You looked down at the picture. It was at breakfast the day you lost your family. There was a birthday candle sticking out of your waffles. Ella was sitting on your lap as they sang to you, the waiter had taken the picture. You couldn’t remember the last time you looked that happy. Your face was exactly the same, but it had been a long time since you had seen your natural hair and eye color. It was almost jarring. You turned away from Steve and he could feel you bricking up the wall he started knocking down.  “Camille...talk to me. Please. Who is that?” For all Steve knew, that could be your sister. You didn’t look like you anymore. You wiped a stray tear.

“I haven’t been that girl in a long time. She’s a ghost Steve. She’s no one.” He pulled you back to him.

“Don’t do that. Please don’t do that. You can trust me. Don’t shut me out.” You cleared your throat and pulled your arm away from Steve so you could hug yourself.

“That was me, 5 years ago. 5 years ago to this day. My parents and sister were killed in a car accident while we were in a vacation in Europe. I should have died too, I sometimes wish I had died too. They injected me with whatever made me like this. I think whoever made me was looking for lost causes, people near death so that if their formula backfired, no one would suspect anything. But here I am. They were a success. But the girl in this picture is dead and gone.”  Before you could walk away from him, Steve pulled you to him in a bone crushing hug. He didn’t say anything, he just held you as you felt hot tears fall down your cheeks. 

***

You didn’t remember falling asleep. You felt like there was a heavy iron curtain hanging over you. You slowly blinked your eyes open and you were in bed, laying on your side facing the huge glass doors that led out to the balcony. You felt Steve’s body pressed against your back as he snored lightly. His arm thrown over your body. You stayed there for a moment enjoying the heat of his body and the safeness of his embrace. You slowly slid out from his grasp and grabbed your phone as you slid your flip flops on. You needed some air and some coffee.

You scrolled through your phone and saw a handful of missed calls and messages from Bucky. Did you guys get there okay? Have you driven Steve crazy yet? Why aren’t you answering me? Did Steve kill you already? And then the final one- Steve called me after you fell asleep. Call me when you get up.”

You closed the door slowly behind you so it wouldn't wake Steve and headed downstairs. You slipped through the lobby and headed out towards the back patio where breakfast was set up, in desperate need of caffeine. After you poured yourself a generous cup, you found a secluded table in the corner of the deck. You moved your chair so it was facing the railing and looking out over the ocean. Once you were situated you pulled your knees close to your body and dialed Bucky's number. It rang a few times before his gruff and sleepy voice answered.

"It's 5am Doll." Was all he said.

"Well good morning to you too." 

"It's 7am there. What the hell are you doing up already?" You listened as his voice slowly became more alert. "Are you okay? Steve told me about the picture, and you breaking down, and....I didn't think you'd ever tell him." You took a drink of your coffee.

"I"m fine. If he hadn't found that picture I probably wouldn't have, and I didn't tell him much. It was kind of cathartic. And Steve on this mission is much different than any other Steve I've worked with. And what was I supposed to do? Tell him it wasn't me? Believe me, I tried to not tell him. He just looks at you with those stupid blue eyes and you want to tell him all of your secrets." You had his full attention now.

"Stupid blue eyes huh? Exactly how well are you and Steve getting along?"

"Shut up Bucky."

"I KNEW IT! YOU LIKE HIM!!" He yelled into your ear. 

"You're insufferable." You looked around to make sure no one was paying attention, and also to make sure Steve wasn't sneaking up on you to hear your confession. "I can't keep anything from you, even if I should and want to. I may have a little crush." You rolled your eyes in defeat. Bucky Barnes would never let this go now.

"Little crush huh?"

"Okay fine, a huge one. But it's this mission. Pretending to be newly weds...all the fake affection, the kissing. It's messing with my brain."

"Wait...hold up. You kissed him?"

"Technically he kissed me. I just kissed him back." Bucky was making some sort of celebration whooping sound when you followed it up. "It's because we were sneaking around the property and got caught. He was trying to blow it off as us getting carried away."

"Was there tongue?" She could see him wiggling his eyebrows in her mind.

"Shut up. I hate you." She clenched her jaw as he laughed at her expense.

"Well that's a yes. I mean...I always knew your hatred for him was just a veil of your feelings."

"There are no feelings. It's a crush. I'll get over it." You said the word feelings like it was a curse word.

"Sure you will. Listen...I'm going back to sleep now that I know you aren't going to jump off the deep end. And maybe explore the possibility of feelings for Steve." Her shook his head when you scoffed. "And Cam?"

"Yeah Buck?"

"Happy Birthday." And with that he hung up the phone. You shook your head as you set your phone down on the table and took another sip of your coffee. The wind was whipping through your hair and you saw the dark clouds slowly approaching. The rain would start soon. The idea of a heavy storm trapping you on the island made your anxiety kick up. Then you thought about being trapped on the island with Steve and you settled into your thoughts.

"Well you look lonely." About 15 minutes later a voice yanked you from your daydreaming thoughts of Steve Rogers. You slowly turned to see a beautiful middle aged woman standing in front of you. She had beautiful curly dark hair, deep dark eyes, full lips and a gorgeous smile. Age barely marked her face. "Where is your other half?

"I'm sorry....do I know you?"

"Oh I'm sorry dear! I'm Maria Alvarez Cobb." you heard the alarm bells going off in your head. This must be Martin Cobb's wife. "I'm just surprised to see a lovely young woman like yourself sitting alone outside at a couples resort." 

"Oh! My husband is still sleeping. I woke up early and couldn't fall back to sleep, but I didn't want to wake him, so I came down for some coffee and to get some fresh air before it gets so warm later today." 

"If you don't mind me saying, you look rather young to be someone's wife." She took an uninvited seat at your table.

"Newly weds. I look young for my age." She wasn't being dishonest. You would know if she was, you would sense it. But something about her was off, you were sure of it.

"I didn't catch your name." You frantically tried to remember the name that was on the reservation. No one had called you by your first name. 

"Ainsley...Ainsley Buchanan." How you plucked that out of the back of your brain, you'd never know. 

"Stark Industries? Do you work for Tony Stark" she motioned to your t-shirt. You silently cursed yourself. Rule number one was never, ever let anyone associate you with anything Avengers or Stark related when on an undercover mission."

"Oh no...my brother Peter has an internship with Mr. Stark. A perk is plenty of free T-Shirts." She smiled.

"It must be nice to be close to a sibling." It felt like everything she said was an accusation. You simply smiled at her. 

"Well, I think I'll go and see if my husband has decided to wake up yet." You stood to walk quickly away and she grabbed your hand.

"Ms. Buchanan, my husband and I are inviting all of our guests to our anniversary party tonight at the resort. I do hope you'll be able to attend with your husband. I'd love to meet him. I try to meet all of our guests when we come down to stay here."

"Your guests?"

"Oh dear, my husband and I own this resort." You tried to keep your face as neutral as possible, on the inside you were screaming.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't even realize!" you feigned embarrassment. 

"Oh don't apologize. I wouldn't expect you to know. Will we see you tonight?"

"We wouldn't miss it for the world

As soon as you were out of anyone's line of vision you moved quickly to the stair well and ran up the stairs, not trusting yourself to be on an elevator with anyone else. Your hands were shaking as you tried to unlock the door. You cursed as you dropped your phone and it hit the bottom of the door. Steve must have heard you because he opened it before you could even put the key card in the door.

"Camille, what in the hell?" He looked at your disheveled appearance, panic spread all over your face.

"Shhh...let me in and shut the door, NOW" You yelled at him in a whisper. He moved so you could rush in and shut the door. He turned around waiting for an explanation for your frantic behavior.

"Steve...I fucked up. I fucked up BIG time." 

"It's 7:40 in the morning? How could you have possibly messed up?" You internally rolled your eyes at his refusal to use the same curse word you had. You took the ends of your shirt so he could read the logo. He squinted his eyes and shook his head to indicate he wasn't following your train of thought. "Okay I need you to say actual words."

"I woke up early and didn't want to wake you. I didn't even remember falling asleep last night to be honest. I felt foggy and I wanted some fresh air and coffee. I'm so sorry for breaking down like that. I'm such a fucking baby." Steve grabbed you by your shoulders.

"Camille...I need you to focus." You closed your eyes for a moment and when you opened them, he was looking at you with more concern that you had ever seen on his face before.

"Sorry. I went downstairs to call Bucky because he left me like 1800 messages. I didn't even think to change my shirt. When I got off the phone with him, this woman came up to me. Maria Alvarez Cobb." 

"Shit..." Steve let you go.

"I know. She was asking why I was alone. I told her my "husband" was still asleep and I wanted to enjoy the weather with my coffee. She mentioned the shirt. She asked me if I worked for Mr. Stark. I told her my brother Peter interned for him."

"So you covered. It's not that bad." 

"Steve. It's bad! When are you going to realize I can sense when something is off? It's more than just knowing when someone is lying. Lately...it's like I can sense the negative energy in the air. I felt off around her. She wasn't lying to me. But the warning bells were ringing in my head. She was definitely suspicious of me. She invited us to their anniversary party tonight. Actually, she said she was inviting all of their guests to the party. She and Martin Cobb own this place."

"What? That's not listed anywhere."

"I KNOW!" You threw your arms up. "I'm such a fuck up. I should know better than to even bring this shit with me on a mission."

"Cam...stop. It's okay." 

"You're not going to yell at me?" You jolted back, looking at him in shock.

"No...it was an honest mistake." Your drew your eyebrows together.

"You're not so calm because of you feel sorry for me, this isn't pity Rogers, is it?"

"Oh my God will you stop?" You crossed your arms in front of you glaring him down. "It's not pity. But it's already done. So now we just have to tread lightly from here." You nodded, relaxing your posture. 

"You put me to bed last night."

"I did."

"You held me."

"I did. You needed it." He waited for you to say more, but he could tell you couldn't find the words. "We all have baggage Camille. We all have scars. You don't have to bottle them up. We're all here for you. Not just Tony and Bucky. If you talked more, you might not feel broken. I'm here for you. You needed someone to be there for you last night. I'm here for you, any time you need someone." You nodded.

"Thank you. I'm not ready to talk more just yet. But thank you." 

"You're welcome. Now let's order some room service and get to work researching this woman and try to figure out what shipment they're expecting." 

***

Your nerves were shot. You and Steve found out next to nothing about the Cobb's. Maria was even more of an enigma than her husband Martin. As far as they could tell, Martin Cobb ran a BioTech company. There were none of the usual "drug front" businesses under Cobb International. Martin and Maria bought the resort 6 months ago. You were standing near the glass door staring out at the whipping wind and the heavy rain.

"I mean it makes sense why we didn't know they owned the place. I just can't figure out what it is that he's selling. We thought it was drugs and arms deals. Maybe we're wrong." Steve fixed the tie around his neck. You had been pacing all day. Pacing back and forth in front of the door. Pacing around the room. You couldn't sit still. "Camille, you're making me dizzy." You spun and looked at him and gave him a sheepish smile. You were wearing a black sweetheart neckline dress. It was chiffon with a small embellished belt and a high-low hemline; the shortest part of the dress just long enough to hide the thigh holster for your weapon. You paired it with flat gold gladiator sandals. You didn't want to have to fight, or run in heels. Your hair was in it's signature braid wrapped around your head. 

"Steve...I just have a bad feeling about this. Maybe we should call this mission and re-group. This storm is going to get worse. If we get into trouble, we wont be able to fly out of here."

"No...we're here. It'll be okay. They aren't going to do anything in a room full of people. C'mon, let's go down there for a while, see what's up and if you still feel like this, we'll leave and go to the safe house. I already have Tony and Bucky on standby." You nodded. He put his hand on the small of your back to lead you out of the room, he’d been doing it for the past two days and you didn’t think you would ever get sick of it.

Waves of anxiety passed through you as the two of you made your way into the ballroom. . Gold and crystal chandeliers hanging throughout the ceiling. Everything else in black. Black chairs, black table cloths. Then the gold and black plates. You grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. 

“I don’t know if getting drunk is our best play.” Steve whispered into your ear. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh grow up. A glass of champagne isn’t going to get me drunk. It’s going to calm my nerves.” You watched Steve’s jaw tick as you rolled your eyes.

“I swear to God if you roll your eyes at me again I’m going to roll them back for you. That drives me insane.” He whispered harshly in your ear. So it was the eye rolling that got to him, you did it often, which explained why he was always so triggered by you. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Now is not the time or the place to threaten me with a good time, Captain.” The snarky comment came out of your mouth before you could stop it. You both stood there awkwardly for a moment staring at each other until Steve cleared his throat. 

“We should probably head that way.” Steve pointed you towards the back corner of the room. You nodded and let him lead you there. Here you were, probably walking into your deaths and you were flirting. You internally chastised yourself and thanked God no one else was on this mission. You’d never live it down. 

The two of you tried to eavesdrop on whatever conversations you could but got no information. Whatever was happening was deep under wraps. Martin Cobb didn't want his dealings around his wife, the men you had listened to last night made that clear. You should have known you wouldn't have been able to pick up on anything.  You could feel the electricity and anxiety coursing through your body. You felt Steve’s hand on your thigh to stop you from bouncing your leg. He had just gotten back from making another round of the room.

“I haven’t even seen the Cobbs.” You commented.

“I know. Let’s get out of here. We’ll pack our things and head to the safe house and see what to do next.” You were about to agree with him when you froze cold in your spot. “What? What is it?” You spotted a man across the room. You hadn't seen him in 5 years, but you would recognize him anywhere.

“That- that man over there. That’s Dr. Yablowsk,  the doctor that treated me after the accident.” He was tall and slender. Balding with white hair. He actually reminded you of Mr. Burns from The Simpsons. Steve saw a variety of emotions pass through your eyes.

“You mean- he’s the one that made you the way you are?” You nodded.

“He has to be. He was the only doctor that I saw the day of the accident. This can’t be a coincidence. Screw going back to the room, we’re leaving now.” You grabbed Steve’s hand and were about to drag him out of the room when you saw Maria Alvarez Cobb approaching you.

“You must be Mr. Buchanan. I met your lovely wife Ainsley this morning.” She shoved her hand at Steve and he graciously accepted the hand shake.

“Yes ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Ainsley told me she met you this morning and you personally invited us. Happy Anniversary.” Steve watched as the color drained from your face.

“Such a gentleman too. Hold on to this one Ainsley, good men are hard to come by.” Her smile seemed genuine, but she kept saying your name like it was an accusation. She knew you weren't who you said you were. You could tell by the way she was looking at you.

“I need to use the restroom.” You quickly slipped from the two of them and rushed outside. You felt sick. Your head was pounding and you had to get away from that woman. Once you were out of their line of vision, you headed outside. The rain soaked you as you you slowly started to make your way to the edge of the woods. You were hoping Steve would meet you there when you weren't by the restroom. You were banking on his uncanny ESP to know exactly where to go and what to do at all times. You paused when you got close to that little concrete building. The lights were on and you heard two men arguing.

“I need to get to the party. My wife is there and she’s trying to keep her at that party.”

“Martin- this isn’t a good idea. Just let her go, we have more. We can make more.” 

"NO! She's the first. She was our first successful case. She slipped from my grasp back then. I finally have the opportunity now!" You stumbled back.

They were talking about you. They had to be. You quickly slipped between two bushes and squatted down before you could be seen. You watched as Martin Cobb stormed out of the little building and headed towards the resort. You felt your hands shaking as you pulled your phone out of your small purse to text Steve. You warned him this was a trap and described where you were hiding.

The warm rain was making your dress stick to your body and the wind was almost knocking you over. You kept looking at your phone to see if Steve would answer you, but he hadn't said a single word back. You were squatting down trying not to hyperventilate and saying a silent prayer when you saw Steve coming  about 20 minutes later.

“What the hell is going on?”

“We need to get out of here. I’ll explain at the safe house. We are NOT safe. They know who I am.” Steve gave you a questioning look but accepted that you would explain when you were out of danger. The two of you moved as silently as you could. You were about go into the woods when you saw someone step out of the building.

“Y/N YLN” Your head snapped over to him as he called your real name. Steve looked at you in confusion. No one knew what your real name was except Tony Stark, not even Bucky knew.

“Who the hell are you?” You couldn’t get a good look at him, but he was tall and muscular with a shaved head.

“My name is Nick Webster, I’m the man that pulled you from the wreckage 5 years ago. I’ve been helping Martin and Dr. Yablowski look for you. It was smart, faking your suicide. But then Tony Stark found you and I knew...I just knew it was you. We didn’t realize how much your appearance had changed. You became a completely different person from when I saw you to when the doctor saw you. You know what gave you away?”

“Meeting Maria this morning.” The man laughed.

“Well that certainly didn’t help. No, that made us suspect something was off with you and your husband, that and the report that you were wandering a little to close to the woods. But it’s how you wore your hair tonight. It’s your look. “The Protector” always wears her hair like that. Don’t you realize that Martin Cobb is the one that sent all of those tips in to The Avengers? He's not dealing illicit drugs or illegal weapons. He's too smart and sophisticated for that. He wanted you here. I don’t know how he got so lucky that you were the one that came. You were his first creation. What’s shocking to me is that Tony Stark would send his Little Orphan Annie all by herself. Don’t you normally have that Super Soldier by your side? The ex assassin that is excellent at murder? The Winter Solider is it? Instead they send you with some B-List agent?“

“Actually, they sent her with me.” You and Nick Webster turned to where Steve Rogers was standing. You watched as Steve reached behind his ear and turned off his appearance enhancer. While you couldn't see his transformation because of your contacts, Nick saw the auburn hair melt into his normal dirty blonde rocks and his hazel eyes transformed into his piercing blue that were narrowed on Nick Webster. 

“Oooo Captain America! You must really be important to Stark.” Before you knew what was happening Steve took a few strides towards you and shoved your out of the way as Nick charged at him. You tried to get the comm that was in your bag into your ear as the two men fought. You knew Tony and Bucky were standing by waiting to hear from you and Steve. It was the quickest way to get a distress signal to them. You dropped your bag when you saw Nick pull out a blade and he was inches from stabbing Steve in the spine. You heard Tony’s words in your head. “C’mon kid, I bet if you concentrate hard enough you can throw a force field at someone to protect them if they aren’t next to you. Let’s try.” You had been working at it for months with Tony. You had come close a few times, but it never worked. "Maybe you just need the right motivation. It took a while for you to be able to create them on demand. We'll keep working at it. We'll get this." 

You felt power surging through your body as your hand shot out  towards Steve. You watched with slight awe as a purple orb few from your hand and surround Steve Rogers. The force almost knocked you over and took a lot of your strength. You were leaning against a tree to support yourself when you felt Nick’s blade pierce through your abdomen. You cried out in pain and fell to your knees. You held your hand to your stomach and tried to heal the wound, but nothing was happening. You watched as he stalked towards Steve and you quickly pulled the gun from your holster.

“Hey Nick!” You called out and as soon as he turned you put a bullet between his eyes and you fell to the ground. You silently thanked Bucky Barnes for making you an excellent shot.

“Cami...why didn’t you heal yourself?” Steve had ran over to you and dropped to his knees. Tendrils of your jet black hair had slipped from your braid and were sticking to your face. The pelting rain washing off the wet sand stuck to your face. Steve was frantic and trying to see the wound. He watched as you put your hand over where the blade had sliced through your body. Your eyes glowed the shade of magenta he had been enthralled with since the day he met you and he watched as it quickly flickered out. When he looked down at the wound it was still bleeding. 

“It’s not working. I don’t know why.” You mumbled, barely discernible.

“There must have been something on that blade that is affecting your healing ability. If Martin Cobb is the one that made the serum, he may have made something that can hinder hurt you.” Steve pulled his jacket and pressed it to your wound.

“I can still feel my powers below the surface. They’re just not strong enough to heal myself. He didn’t take them away.” Your voice cracked as you spoke.

“Dammit Camille, why did you throw that force field? Why didn’t you protect yourself?” Steve was pushing the wet hair off of your face and forehead. You gave him a weak smile.

“The team needs you more than they need me. You’re our leader. Besides, I’m always going to protect you.” You were starting to feel light-headed, and your vision was blurring.

“Cami…you don’t have to protect me. There isn’t anything that man could have done to me that I would survive. I’m a Super Solider. Getting beaten half to death and falling out of the sky didn’t kill me. You should have protected yourself instead.” Steve was saying more things to you, but you couldn't focus on everything that he was saying. Bits and pieces came through. He was yelling at you and begging you to stay with him when you felt a warm blanket of black fall over you. 

[banditthewriter]

I Got You - Billy Russo

A request from @madamzeyl! I tried to stay as close to your request as possible, so I hope you like it!

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

***** The bed dipped behind you and you looked over your shoulder, offering a sleepy smile to Billy as he wrapped an arm around your waist. "Burning the candle at both ends today Mr Grumpy Face?" "Weirdo," he retorted as he snuggled into you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "Work never stops when you're the head of the company." "But it's such a handsome head," you said with a smile as you raised his hand to kiss the back of it, snuggling it closer to you. "I'll make breakfast in the morning if you don't have to rush off." "Sounds perfect," he said as he pressed another kiss to your shoulder. Slowly and happily, you both drifted off to sleep. When you woke up, Billy was still sleeping so you slipped from the bed carefully. After using the bathroom and doing what needed to be done there, you went into the kitchen to start breakfast as you had promised. Of course you could think of another way to wake him. If he wasn't awake by time breakfast was finished, you'd have to crawl under the covers and wake him up that way instead. As you were pulling the last waffle off of the iron, a pair of hands rested on your hips and a stubbled chin rubbed against your cheek. "Such a nice way to wake up," he said as he kissed your cheek. "Pity, I was gonna wake you up with a blow job." He squeezed your hips and you laughed. "Well Mr Crabby Grabby, you ready for breakfast?" He rolled his eyes and both of you went about getting your plates piled high with food. Billy was yawning into his arm, hair loose around his face. One thing you knew for sure was that he must feel comfortable with you if he let you see him like this. "You're nicknames are getting weirder. How's work treating you?" You laughed as you started to cut into your waffle. "I am in charge of almost two dozen preschoolers who think fart jokes are the height of comedy. Be glad the nicknames are relatively general compared to what they could be." Billy let out a laugh as he shook his head, pointing his fork at you with a piece of sausage speared onto it. "The first time you call me Mr Fart Face, I'll make you sleep on the couch for a week." You leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the fork, pulling the sausage away as you did and giving him a wink. "I'd give it an hour before you begged me to come back to bed," you taunted as you grabbed your drink. His hand covered yours, his fingers lightly brushing your wrist and forearm as he leaned in closer to you. Your breath was coming in faster as you watched his eyes roam over your face. "I'd give it twenty minutes," he said as he ducked in to kiss your lips. "My self control is only so good." You licked your lips and glanced at the table where your breakfast sat. With a groan you stood up, pulling Billy to you by his collar. "Reheated waffles sound good to you?" He laughed, hoisting you up by your thighs so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. Keeping you up, he carried to towards the bedroom where you both fell onto the bed with a laugh. ------ "Thanks for packing my lunch," Billy said, his voice a little distorted since he was on speaker. "You're welcome baby bunch," you said, distracted as you dug through your purse for your keys. "Did you get the note?" "The one where you called me Mr Fart Face, yes, I got that. I also enjoyed the fact that your cut my crusts off." He was laughing and you smiled as he continued. "No really, everyone at the office thought it was cute. I have a new nickname and one of my employees left a sippy cup on my desk." "Oh they're just having a bit of fun," you said as you finally wrestled your keys out of the bottom of your purse, dropping the sock puppet that one of your kids had given you. Once the door was unlocked, you bent down to pick up the sock puppet. As you sat back up, trying to explain to Billy that you hadn't meant to cut the crust off his sandwich but didn't want to throw away a still perfectly good sandwich, you pushed the door open and gasped, dropping your bag and your phone. "Y/N?" Billy's voice came through the phone on the floor, alarmed and urgent. You could barely breathe as you continued to stare at the gun that was pointing at you. The man that was holding it glared at you, eyes darting to the phone on the floor half obscured by the sock puppet that you had dropped. "Not who I was expecting," he said as he took a few steps forward, "but it'll do." Billy's increasingly worried voice went silent. Then, voice low and serious in a way that made you shudder, he ground out a name: "Rawlins." The man in front of you, Rawlins, gave you a smile that made his glass eye look more terrifying. "Y/N is a little busy right now Billy. We'll have to call you back." Before you could say anything, before you could think of all the things Billy had tried to drill into your head if you were ever found in this type of situation, you heard the discharge of the gun and felt an immense pain rip through you. As you sank to your knees, hands pressed to the source of the pain in your stomach, you looked up in time to catch a glimpse of the side of the gun coming to slam into the side of your face. And then darkness. ------ "Y/N, baby, stay with me," came a voice but it sounded so far away. Pain rippled through you and you felt something press against your forehead. "Don't speak, I'm here. I'm here Y/N, but you gotta stay with me okay?" More pain and then something else, more voices. Hands everywhere and you were sure you cried out as they tried to move you. More pain and more pain, a pinch on your arm and then finally, thankfully, numbness and silence once more. ------ "Mr Russo," the doctor said calmly as he shook Billy's arm, startling him out of his half asleep state. The first thing Billy did once he realized he was awake was check Y/N's form. Still unconscious, still hooked to a dozen different IVs and monitors. He looked up at the doctor who smiled and pat his shoulder gently. "You need rest son," the doctor said as he looked over the rumpled man in front of him. "Besides the few hours right after her surgery, you haven't left her side in three days. A shower and some sleep would help." "I'm fine," Billy bit out as he looked back at Y/N. He clutched her hand and squeezed it, shaking his head a bit as he glanced back at the doctor. "I'm not leaving until she's awake." The doctor sighed but he saw this type of thing often. He looked at his watch and then glanced back down at Billy. "I'll send a nurse up with something for you to eat. You're no good to her if you waste away while you wait." Once the doctor was gone, Billy turned back to look at Y/N. Like the doctor said, he hadn't left her side except for right after the surgery. The three hours he was not at the hospital, he was finding and ending Rawlins and anyone else who might want to hurt him by going through Y/N. Billy carefully moved her so that he could crawl onto the bed with her, careful of the gunshot wound. Mindful of all of the IVs and leads attached to her, he simply stayed close to her and gently pressed his lips to her cheek. "You gotta wake up Y/N," he said quietly into her ear, eyes shut tight. "Who is going to cut the crust off my sandwiches and make me the laughing stock at my own company if you stay asleep?" With no response, Billy tucked his face in to her neck a little bit and took a deep breath. He was not going to lose control, not here. Not when she needed him. "I need you," he whispered, emotion clawing at this throat. "I can't do this without you." There was silence and Billy kept his eyes closed, breathing with the rise and fall of her chest. He almost missed the intake of breath before her voice was there once more. "Mm, righ' 'ere, Mr Cuddle Mons'er." ------ "Ow," you complained as you nestled down onto the couch, hand pressed against the bandage on your side. "Getting shot hurts. Remind me not to do it again?" "Don't get shot again," Billy said quickly as he moved around to the other side of the couch and placed a pillow down on the arm. "Here, lay down. Do you need a pain killer?" "You're being a helicopter. I'm fine Billy, really," you said as you snagged hold of his wrist and pulled him closer to you. "Sit with me? You moving around so much is making me dizzy." He sat down next to you, pulling you gingerly into his lap. You felt him press a kiss to your forehead and you sighed as you nuzzled into his chest a bit. "I'm the reason you got shot," he said, voice so quiet you almost missed it. When you looked up at him, he was frowning and shaking his head as if he still couldn't believe. "Hey," you said as you tilted his face towards you. "I'd rather get shot because of you than be lost without you. I mean it Billy. You told me that the guy was taken care of, right? Then we're safe." He sighed and nodded, giving you a soft smile before you leaned in for a kiss. He cupped the back of your head but the moment you tried to deepen the kiss, he pulled back and gave you a look. "Your doctor said no sexual activity for a few weeks while your wounds heal," he said with a pointed look. "But my dentist had no such orders," you said with a smirk, leaning in for another kiss. He laughed against your lips and then pulled you back, raising an eyebrow until you relented and simply leaned back against his chest once more. "Fun sucker," you said with a pout, giving in and smiling as you felt him rubbing circles on your back. "We'll get to the fun sucking once you're healed, I promise," he said with a kiss to your temple. "Until then, it's my turn to take care of you." That sounded good, you thought as you closed your eyes and let the beat of his heart lull you to sleep.

X

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[pink-ink-goblin]

“You know, just join me and you’ll stop complaining about how lazy I’m being.” with Damien/William? (This is endlcess-possibilities btw)

((Ah, the best boys. I’m sorry this took so long! I love them so much and wanted to make sure this was worthy of their beautiful relationship. I think you may remember us talking about this one too. I don’t think I quite captured it, but hope you like it all the same!))

Warnings: There’s fluff at the end, but nothing risque.

Damien was so tired.

He could feel it tugging at the edges of his consciousness, that gentle fuzzy sensation that loomed in the base of his skull and pulled heavily on the backs of his eyes, just waiting for him to be at his weakest so it could pull him under and blanket him in sleep’s embrace. It was so enticing; thoughts of being wrapped in his soft, warm sheets invading his mind at every turn, lurking just underneath like a taboo notion, but he did everything in his power to fight the urge back.

He couldn’t afford to sleep now, not when he could finally feel the tide shifting in his favor, however small a turn it was.

It had all sought to overwhelm him quickly, the new job doing its absolute best to consume his every waking moment. There were of course forms, administrative meetings, forms, external connections to maintain, more forms, law regulations to change… oh, and did he mention forms? The amount of requests were overwhelming and Damien had the niggling suspicion that it was a force play by the very people who worked under him. Those peons were accustomed to being able to bully the leader - for the old mayor had been an easily manipulated pushover and only in it for the social status - so they took his inherent and easily given empathy as a sign of weakness.

Their worst mistake.

They could flood him with all the work they wanted, asinine requests and all, but he would just smile and do his job because he refused to break under their pressure. Just because he had to take the flood home - more often than he’d like to honestly - did not mean he would back down. Not without a fight.

… Even if that fight was exceptionally exhausting and filled with battles since his first day, but he was nothing if not determined.  

This all took him to where he currently perched, elbow deep in requests and legal documents at his own mahogany desk in his home office. While he wanted nothing more than to lay on the couch and read on this beautiful weekend - perhaps even take a drive to enjoy the countryside or catch up on all the sleep he was losing to these bullying idiots - he was determined to sort through this mess before the week began anew. He had even taken extra steps to ensure his attention would not be swayed.

The curtains were drawn just so that the harsh rays of the sun turned gentle and could shine in without casting a blinding sheen on everything. The record he had spinning in the background was playing the gentle tones of Debussy to ease his mind and, lately, his stress driven temper. He even had everything meticulously organized just so that everything could be picked up, read, and deliberated on with ease, before being placed into one of two neat piles depending on whether he approved of their contents or not. The level of focus everything invoked should have made his work go just that much more quickly.

It should have, but he had quickly discovered that there was one factor in it all that he had absolutely no control over, no matter how many times he was shooed away.

“Damieeeeen,” Came that ever familiar voice for the umpteenth time that day, emanating from the hallway in a clarion whine that had Damien sighing through his nose. William knew he had work to do, had seen the piles of paperwork on his desk every time he popped in, but it didn’t seem to register just how much or how important it was that Damien get them done. He opened his mouth to try and stop him in the hall, but in a blink the man was standing in front of his desk, pursing his mustache-covered lips in displeasure as he exasperatedly proclaimed, “Still? You’ve been at it for hours.”

“I’m almost done.” Came Damien’s dull response, setting down his fountain pen only so that he could freely rub his face with both hands in equal exasperation. Or was exhaustion? William was known to invoke both.

“You’ve said that already,” William returned bitterly, squaring his shoulders as he clasped his hands behind his back. “Care to try a different excuse?”

“William, this is important work,” Damien stared flatly at the bespectacled man, taking in the way William was straightening himself up for a verbal joust that way he did whenever he was displeased, and honestly Damien just didn’t have the patience for it. The mayor supposed it must have shown too, considering the military man seemed to deflate like a punctured balloon at his apathy.

“Come now,” William beseeched, leaning forward and placing his hands on Damien’s desk, looking almost pouty in the face of being rejected once again. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone for a bunch of people who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the true state of ‘whatever educational system’ or ‘miscellaneous road project’ in any nondescript part of this rubbish town none of them actually care about.”

“Actually, they care quite a lot,” Damien countered easily, looking back to the request form he had been previously reading. Had the letters always looked so blurry? Perhaps another cup of coffee was in order. “And you’d know that too if you bothered to listen to the answers of any of the questions you initially asked.”

“Codswallop,” William replied impatiently, hand waving away the accusation like smoke. “I listen plenty, and all I hear is you complaining about infrastructure and how I don’t take political interest.”

“My opinion hasn’t changed. You are in the unique position to see this world inherently differently than everyone else, and those views - while blunt - are actually very insightful.”

William merely harrumphed in response, dropping to his elbows on the desk so he could rest his chin in his hands while still standing. “Only when you take them and make them sound all flowery the way you do. You work amidst morons.”  

Damien rolled his eyes and picked up the next form in the pile. “All the more reason I don’t have the time to just neglect my duties like you can.”

“You know…” William started with severe displeasure, looking as if he was trying to find an argument to Damien’s very true statement, before relenting and letting loose a rather sulky-sounding breath. “Just join me so you can stop complaining about how lazy I’m being.”  

“And sink to your level?” Damien joked, a wry smile aimed at the paper below, fingers pinching the corner in wait to turn it over.

In the corner of his eye, he could see William’s frown deepen and braced himself for the inevitable tirade - for William never actually took anything lightly despite his flippancy - but instead of receiving the expected retort, the man just fell silent. It didn’t feel particularly angry, but Damien could easily tell William had taken to moping given the way he was fiddling idly with the various office trinkets strewn about his desk.

It was also apparent that he had no intention of going away this time either, but he was being surprisingly quiet - and had yet to try to snatch the pen from his hand again - so Damien had no qualms about just letting him exist on the other side of his desk as long as he could work.

A few minutes passed and he could feel the room around him fading as his concentration tunneled his vision back onto his work, William’s idle tinkering disappearing from focus. The words didn’t quite fly by as they had before, and he could feel the cotton starting to build up in his brain as even his mind was starting to reject the abuse he was putting it through, forcing him read the lines more than once, but he stubbornly pushed through all the same.

He couldn’t stop now. He was so close.

He set the paper aside with professional grace, and made to pick up the next inane form, when suddenly he felt something poke his reaching forearm. His entire body paused as he caught a flash of something silver that quickly disappeared from his immediate vision, but he saw no other movement accompanying it afterwards.

He pursed his lips in frustration as he felt his focus disappear once more. It was getting more and more difficult to reach for each time he was pulled from it - God he was so tired - and if William was going to start his shenanigans now of all times, Damien was going to throw him out of the room by the collar of his yellow shirt like a bad cat.

He waited for William to do whatever it was again, remaining perfectly and dangerously still, but nothing more came.

Until he tried to start again of course.

Another silver-something pinged off the front of his shirt and bounced to a halt on top of the form he was currently trying and failing to read, allowing him to identify exactly what it was he was being attacked with.

Paperclips.

“Will,” Damien pleaded, looking up in exasperation just in time to have the next one bounce off his forehead, right between his eyes. A hand flew to the spot instinctively even though the ricochet hadn’t hurt, and he gave the crackshot a harsh glare.

William however, only smiled coyly under that big mustache of his, deft fingers already aligning another paperclip to let loose without even looking at it, the small metal clip resting between his pointer finger and the desk while the middle digit of his other hand tapped it in a threateningly playful way. Damien should have known William would only take being told no so many times before his rebellious streak kicked in. This, however, was childish and he was going to put a stop to it because, damn it, he needed to work.

“Do not-” Was about as far as Damien got before he had to dodge to the side in his seat, hands flying up to protect himself as the metal bit bounced off his leather chair with enough left over energy to fly somewhere off the front of his desk, glinting once through a sun beam before it was lost to the carpet.

Damien narrowed his eyes at the smug man. So that was how this was going to go? William’s intention was to bring him into submission with office supplies? He had half a mind to tell him off where he perched.

But the other half, the one filled with cotton fluff and sleep deprived giddiness, found his face was struggling not to smile. He pursed his lips, trying to steel himself in his resolve.

Until William flicked another that purposely sailed way over his head, and Damien felt something in him break.

William wanted to play?

Then Damien would play.

Swiping a hand across his desk, Damien’s fingers connected with a small pile of binder clips that he was quick to flick across the end of his desk. He saw a wide grin spread across William’s face as the military man ducked under the opposite side of the desk, the binder clip flying over where his shoulder once was.

A yellow sleeved hand was quick to reappear over the edge though and let loose a cascade of paperclips that had Damien raising his arms to protect himself, a poorly suppressed smile trying to break through his determined expression.

But when he saw his metal fountain pen suddenly sailing towards him - when had William grabbed that? - he was forced to duck under the other side of his desk as well, the pen hitting his chair with a dull thunk and dropping into the seat. He could only pray that William had at least capped it first.  

He blindly tossed the rest of his ammo over the edge of the desk, hearing the ones that fell short clattering on top of the paper-covered wood mutedly, while he heard William let loose a laugh that must have meant some kind of hit. At least Damien hoped. He couldn’t peek as the barrage was almost constant now, pelting his arms, head, and area around him like rain as William tossed entire handfuls.  

Which was an absurdity because he knew for a fact he did not own this many paperclips.

That cheater was manifesting more.  

Out of ammo and unable to look back up to grab anything else, he began to pull what he could see off the floor and tossed it back, but he knew it was no match for the pace in which William was going. He should have known better than to return fire against someone as well practiced as William, but Damien had been determined to beat him at his own game.  

After all, they were just paperclips, right?

He lasted five full minutes before he finally realized he had initiated a fight he simply could not win. William had direct access to his office supplies, since the organizer was pushed to the opposite edge of his desk, and he just couldn’t keep up the pace.

So it was with a rather defeated sort of energy that he managed to cry, “I yield!”

And suddenly, everything stopped.

Damien waited for the trick, knew William couldn’t be done just like that, but when nothing else came, he hazarded a peek…

And nearly fell backwards in fright when a very familiar yellow shirt filled his vision. He froze, gaze travelling higher as he realized William was kneeling on top of his desk, fingers of one hand gripping the edge while the other held a very familiar, fist-sized box aloft.

Their gazes met, Damien’s wide like a spooked deer in comparison to William’s which were creased with his mischievous smile.

It was a long and tense moment…

Before William dumped the box anyway.

Damien ducked his head as a cascade of small, metal clips rebounded all over him, burying themselves in his hair and slipping coldly down the loose collar of his shirt, eliciting a rather undignified sounding laugh from him, but he found he didn’t care. He kept laughing even as the waterfall ended, feeling the conclusion when William dropped the box as well; the small, chipboard container bouncing off his head and onto the floor behind him where, it seemed every office gadget he owned was coming to a rest.

He chanced a back glance upward as his laughter subsided, hearing a few chuckles coming from his attacker’s direction as well, and was greeted with the sight of William now sitting on the end of the desk back far enough that his legs dangled over the opening for his chair. He was beaming down at him proudly, and Damien found he couldn’t even give the man a proper fake disapproving frown.

“Alright fine, you win,” Damien finally relented, pointedly using William’s knee as leverage to stand, before messing his fingers through his hair to shake loose any straggling clips.

Now that everything had calmed, it seemed his exhaustion had decided to creep back in while his shields were down and a yawn escaped his lips before he could suppress it. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, hearing the muted thump of William’s feet as he left the desk in order to stand.

Instead of gloating like Damien expected him to - William’s surprise quote was unnaturally small today - gentle hands snaked their way around his waist and pulled him close. Damien sighed softly, releasing his eyes to look up at William with a look of acquiescence, before putting his arms around the man’s neck and lowering his forehead to rest on his chest.  

“I forget sometimes,” Damien murmured into that yellow shirt, eyes closing as he enjoyed the warmth that just radiated off the man in droves. “I just get so absorbed.”

“I know,” William returned with equal softness, a hint of amusement in his voice as he lowered his chin to rest on the back of Damien’s head.

Damien knew he didn’t deserve this man. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” William had begun to sway gently, rocking them both to the slow beat of a song Damien knew wasn’t naturally on that record he had playing. He smiled knowingly into William’s chest and allowed himself to be moved back and forth, pivoting slowly as William moved them in a rhythmic circle.

He didn’t know how long they stayed that way, the movements and warmth lulling him in to a state of half sleep, before the song ended and William stopped moving. Damien looked up at him, eyes half open sleepily as William gazed down at him with all the loving tenderness of a parent finding amusement in their sleepy toddler.

“Come along,” William requested, moving so that he was standing beside the mayor, one hand still on his waist to keep him close. “I believe there’s a bed with both our names on it.”

Damien blinked slowly, the room slowly swimming back into focus, and realized that the golden glow that had flooded the room earlier was now fading to darkness as the sun set. Had he really been working for that long? My, how wretched that time had been escaping him this badly.  

But he found that he could exist forever in this moment. He felt lighter than he had in ages and a throaty hum escaped him as he returned William’s grip around his waist with one of his own, taking in the chaos all over his floor wearily.

“You’re cleaning that up,” Damien scolded, but he was smiling. “… Later.”

“Bully,” Was all William said with a grin, giving Damien’s waist a squeeze as he lead them both out the door.

[obduratemoon]

Sedimentary City 07: MEDICINE MAN

From the high precipice of a mountain he looked down and far away there in the shadowed plains an army with grey standards fluttering in the wind, the people small and many like ants. Amongst them were catapults that rolled themselves by some dark magic with men, bound and blindfolded, sitting in the ladle like buckets waiting for the moment when they should be sent towards their parabolic terminus.

Consciousness crept in slowly and cautiously on gentle cat paws. Was he still in the dream of catapults and men? In the penumbra of closed eyes, he tried to investigate the hypostasis of his awareness and could not tell if it ended in reality or illusion. He slowly willed his heavy lids to open.

It took Jan a long time to comprehend his situation but with time he came to understand that he was in a hospital bed, the thick tube of an IV running into one arm, the other firmly strapped and secured to the railings. He felt a pang of panic as he recalled the events that led him here, a chill that was, however, blunted by a certain distance of sensation. It rolled in slowly and in waves like some far off reverberation. Morphinated and sedated he lay there oddly comfy given the circumstances, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped in a familiar duvet or sunk deep into the ground, buried and forgotten already.

He knew that he was good and fucked and needed to escape, but it proved difficult to motivate himself. Jan tried to turn over the pistons of cogitation, but his mind remained placid and happily paralyzed, jellied as aspic. The white noise in his brain was soft and gentle, a richly layered tapestry of susurrations and hisses which frustrated and covered any attempt at melody. Jan tried a meditative practice but the thick fog yet remained whole and unrent. He relented and found peace in that noisily anechoic place.

Jan fell into a troubled, doubting sleep and woke up to see an old man with a shock of grey hair and a white doctor’s coat worrying all around him. Half lidded, he listened for a long time to the sounds of the man shuffling about and muttering to himself. Finally, the old man turned towards Jan and, upon seeing that the patient was awake, said: “Ah, you’re finally up. How are you feeling?”

Jan replied with a half hearted shrug. “Tired,” he said, the action of speaking felt odd and constrained. Yes, there is definitely something wrong, he thought. His tongue felt heavy and sticky, a giant alien worm in his mouth.

“Well that’s to be expected, you took quite a beating, although nothing that won’t heal in time.”

“Yes, time,” Jan replied quietly.

Everything in the room indicated that he was in an antiquated hospital. On Level 1 he would have been fully enclosed in a Health-Suit, one arrayed with a variety of instruments inside taking measurements that fed into a Homeostasis Engine, a unit of computation which would calculate his care. The suit could distribute nanobots, fluids, and medicine as well as massage parts of his body to stimulate blood and lymph flow. It also had collection manifolds for urine, feces, pus and other drippings from wounds and orifices. One hardly saw doctors face to face anymore on Level 1.

“Ah, but the silver lining is that your insurance is good," the doctor said with a tired but irascible expression, “really fine! As to be expected from someone from Level 1 -- you’re very lucky! I’ve got the morphine flow set on high, only the best alkaloids!”

“Actually, I was wondering if you could turn it down, I would rather be more lucid.” Jan replied, trying not to sound ungrateful.

“Huh, what’s that? You want to turn it down? You’ll regret it when your muscles start to spasm.”

“Spasm?”

The doctor’s brows furrowed subtly and he moved closer to the bed to face Jan. “Your jaw’s been split in two, right down the middle.” The doctor pointed two fingers at Jan and then made a slicing motion sagittally bisecting the wounded head. “My guess is that it happened when you fell on your face. Or maybe it was from the beating you got, who knows? Did someone mistake your head for a football?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Ah, just as well, I doubt it was a pleasant memory.” The old doctor moved over to the IV machine and inspected its display panel, nodding approvingly while murmuring to himself: “Uh-huh uh-huh, well these look ok.”

Once satisfied with the instrument readings, he turned to Jan,  “So, anyhow, the two sides of your jaw are now all shifted and skewed like tectonic plates -- you know what a tectonic plate is?”

“Yes.”

“Ah ok, not everyone does, a lot of people think all that’s underneath is just another lousy level. They aren’t even aware of Earth much less anything deeper. But who can blame them? Most people never leave their level. I guess you aren’t one of those people, huh?” 

The doctor looked at Jan who merely stared back mutely. Getting no response, he continued, “The two sides of your lower jaw are like those tectonic plates now and your muscles aren’t used to having them moving and shifting, so they spasm, hard mind you, trying to put your face back together. It’s sort of like earthquakes on your face!”

“Huh.” No wonder his mouth felt strange, Jan thought. He tongued his lower incisors and noticed now that they seemed to be misaligned, one side subducted inwards, the normally smooth curve of his teeth broken by this rude discontinuity. He was struck by how unrecognizable and unfamiliar this mouth felt, as if it was unowned by Jan.

“The spasms are very painful, you’d be howling without the morphine so be grateful. Not everyone gets enough and most get the synthetics, so like I said, you’re lucky. Plus the howling will only make the spasms worse.”

The doctor then leaned in and said in a lowered and confidential voice, “Also, I prefer the patients to be quiet and calmer anyway, the walls are thin and it would disturb the other patients. No one likes to hear screaming when they are sick and dying, it just reminds them that they are sick and dying.”

Jan wondered if he would die here on level 5. He had been so ready to do so not long ago but somehow the idea now gave him the chills. Or perhaps it was what they could do to him while alive that scared him.

“Do you know why I’m strapped into this bed?” Jan asked, nodding at his bound arm.

“Oh yea, the police brought you in, they said you had to be secured and that you were to be detained and questioned. Reminds me, I’m supposed to send them in when you woke up,” the doctor leaned in again and, with hushed tones, asked, “So what d’ya do?”

Jan did not reply for a time, mired for a spell in his own worries. This will end badly, he thought.

“I was in a street fight.” Jan replied eventually, “So what about my jaw? Will it heal on its own?”

The doctor looked at him incredulously, “Ha! If the police cared about street fights then I’m a member of the Central Bureau! Well, whatever. The bones will fuse back together again naturally, but will probably be misaligned. My advice is to have it seen to on Level 1, that is, if you can get back there. We can fix it here as well but the approach may be, uh, a bit more crude.” 

He looked at Jan significantly, “I guess it all depends on what happens next with the police.”

“Huh, yea.” 

Jan closed his eyes and sank down into his bed. The reality of the situation was bleeding through the adiabatic insulation of the opiates. He did not relish the interrogations that would soon commence and some part of him was desperate to escape, to chew off his beshackled arm like a wild animal and be far away from all of this. 

The old man stepped back and gazed at his broken patient, brows knit. A sadness flashed through his rictus of shabby joviality.

“Hey, listen, maybe I can help you a little, make you lucid enough to pass muster with the cops, but still not feel it. You want it?”

Jan reopened his eyes, “Yea, please.”

The doctor sighed. “I don’t know how you got into this mess, a lot of people come in and out of here, each with their own sob stories and doomed futures. A doctor can only heal such a little bit of each person, really just janitors cleaning up after the brutality of the system. Ok, let me whip up something for you.”

He went back to the IV machine and scanned his badge, tapping and waving his hands over the input panel evoking a percussion of beeps and boops. “You should be all set now, I’ve got it to drip in slowly over the next 10 minutes, it should make it a bit easier.”

“Thank you”

“Yea, hang in there ok?”, the doctor leaned in close again and said in a low hush, “those pigs are a bunch of fucking sadists.” The old man tapped Jan gently on the chest and gave him a worn out smile, a smile that had once been strong and genuine but made threadbare and eroded by life and its vagaries.

Jan’s chest went sweet and tight where the doctor had tapped, a sudden rush of emotion rising up and swarming his toros. Unexpected kindness can be a sucker punch to the heart. He returned the smile, one rusty from disuse, “Yea, well, I feel better knowing I’ve got the best alkaloids, Doc.”

[lilulo-12fanfiction]

Flicker, Fade- Sneak Peek

Hey kids! I’m in the midst of working on a Steve Rogers x Reader request. I wanted to put out a sneak peek. I’m trying to decide if I’m going to put it all into one story or do multi-parts...because you know...I need to be working on ANOTHER series. But you know how it goes!

This is a combo of two requests.  @justkending​ requested a Steve Rogers x Reader with prompts: “I warned you about him, yet again you didn’t listen.” and “It’s 6am- you’re not having vodka.  @asgardiangurll​ requested a Steve Rogers x Reader with with  prompts:”I’m never going to stop protecting you.”“You are seriously like a man child”

As always likes, comments and reblogs are SO APPRECIATED. Requests are open (Avengers, Supernatural, TVD/The Originals. I do dabble in some Green Arrow and The Flash (DC TV Only please). Prompt list can be found here.

Please let me know if you would like to be added to this tag list or one of my others.

Avengers Tag List: @shreddedparchment @fanfictionjunkie1112@this-is-mycrisis​ @geeksareunique​

Avengers Masterlist

Fate is a funny thing. Your mother always used to tell you that everything happened for a reason. The idea that going through difficult times to prepare you for what was to come or to lead you to something better kept you going, even in your darkest of times. 

You grew up in New England with your mother, father and baby sister Ella. She had been the best surprise of your lives. You were 13 when your mother got pregnant. Everything happens for a reason and you were thrilled to have a sibling.

You were sassy and sarcastic just like your mother. You got your intelligence from your father and while things typically came easy to you; Your parents had made sure you were sufficiently challenged and worked incredibly hard. You had been granted the honor of Valedictorian your senior year in High School. As a graduation gift and an 18th birthday present, You, your parents and your sister took a trip to tour Europe. You had never been happier.l, you were one of those kids that would rather hang out with your parents than a bunch of friends. Spending time with Ella was the highlight of your day, every day. The day of your 18th birthday had been one of your happiest. You spent an incredible day at Brighton Beach building sand castles with Ella and enjoying the amusement park rides in the seaside resort town. Her laugh as you whipped around the tilt-a-whirl would be embedded in your soul for the rest of your days. Your dad had ridden with you on all of the roller coasters and rides deemed too scary by Ella. Your mom wasn’t much of a ride person, but damn did she love her carnival games. Once you were back in London, your life would be changed forever. One moment your father was driving the three of you down the street laughing about how strange it was to drive on the opposite side of the street and the next you were being T-Boned by another vehicle.

Your parents and sister had been killed on impact. You had barely survived. Someone had pulled you from the wreckage. You were rushed to the hospital and woke up 2 days later. Before you even opened your eyes you knew something was different. You were completely healed. No lasting injuries, no deficits except the gaping hole in your heart. The doctor there tried to calm your anxieties, telling you everything was fine and you were just lucky. Somehow you knew the doctor was lying to you about how you had been treated. That night you had gone into the bathroom to examine yourself and were shocked by what you saw. Your natural hair color had been transformed into a  liquid black that cascaded down your body. The most startling change was your eyes. Your once very normal eye color had been transformed into a shade of violet. 

You had been frantically studying your altered appearance when the little girl sharing your hospital room bad woken up crying after a nightmare. You had sat down on her bed to comfort her. That was when you knew someone in that hospital had done something to you. By simply placing your hand over her arm, the bruises she had from falling out of a tree healed. You had heard about enhanced humans, you had seen them on your TV. Someone had turned you into one. The doctors that healed you had no idea what they had created, they couldn’t have. They never would have let you leave. The fear of becoming a lab rat caused you to keep it to yourself and when they finally discharged you, you got back to the US as fast as you could. 

You had tried to dye your hair back to its normal state, but nothing would change the jet black that framed you. You took to wearing blue contacts to make your eyes appear a more normal color. You found out the doctor that treated, turned you into what you had become was looking for you. Once your family was returned home and buried you disappeared from everything you had known and loved about your home. You effectively erased Y/N Y/L/N from existence by faking your own death. People were led to believe you took your own life. After loosing everything you loved it wasn’t hard for people to believe. You had to leave everything about who you were behind.

Three years later, with a new identity, you were living in New York City working as a freelance journalist. You had changed your name to Camille Ballard and were trying to live a semblance of a normal life pretending you didn’t have any special abilities when a man opened fire on a huge crowd. You had grabbed a nearby child, held them close to you to protect them. Without evening trying, you formed a purple force field around the two of you, saving both of your lives. As soon as you realized what happened, you rushed home and packed as much of your belongings as fast as you could and planned on making a break for it. If that doctor saw footage of what you just did, he might figure out you were alive and come looking again. 

Luckily for you, Iron Man had been there to help with the situation and saw what you had done. Before you had the chance to catch a bus, he found you and was set on recruiting you for The Avengers.

“Mr. Stark...you’re mistaken. That wasn’t me. I’m nobody. I’m like a ghost.” You were desperate to convince him you weren’t who he thought you was. But he knew.

“Then why are you trying to bolt with almost everything you own? C’mon kid...you don’t have to live a life on the run. I can help you. You don’t HAVE to be a ghost.” He wouldn’t relent and he wouldn’t let you leave. 

Even though everything in your brain told you to run, your lonely heart was begging you to trust him, to let him in. He had saved the world more than once and here he was offering to save you. Your heart won and you broke down and told him your story. Tony Stark, with all of his bravado held you as you sobbed for your lost family, your identity and assuaged your fears of not knowing what had been done to you. 

“Cam...I can call you Cam right?” His kind smile put you at ease. He made quite a few promises to you. He offered you a home and a family of sorts. He promised that he would find out what had been done to you. He promised to give you a purpose. Just like you knew that doctor was lying to you the day your parents died, you knew you could trust Tony Stark. Your mother’s voice telling you everything happened for a reason echoed in your brain. You had been given a gift, it was your responsibility to use it to do something good in this world. It was the best way to honor your parents and sister.

Tony eased you into life at The Avengers compound. He insisted you see a trauma counselor to really deal with the loss of your family. You had protested at first, you didn’t want to open up those wounds. He brought you to meet Pepper. She was the one that convinced you to get the emotional help you needed. She told you about Tony’s PTSD and how it had affected both of them. She promised that she and Tony would be there for you as you dealt with all of the pain you had buried for years. You finally agreed.

Once you were settled, Tony and Bruce began running tests to see if they could figure out what had happened to you. Best they could tell, someone had injected you with a serum, they just couldn’t figure out exactly what it was. Clearly it had been experimental because neither of them had seen anything like your blood work before.  Bruce had been fascinated by your blood test results. Tony had been able to get his hands on old blood work from a well child visit when you were a kid to compare it to your blood today.

“Whatever they gave you changed your DNA entirely.” Bruce had been entirely fascinated until he saw the look on your face. “I’m sorry Camille. I know you feel like a science project.” Bruce knew all too well what it was like to be changed to your core. You realized that day you had made the right decision by coming to the compound. For the first time in years, you didn’t feel alone.

6 months after you had gotten there Tony had taken to calling you The Protector. You could heal yourself and others. Your fight or flight response produced the protective force field that would encompass you and anyone close to you. After a few months of work you could create them on demand. Your enhancements also made you as close to a human lie detector as someone could get. It took intense concentration to be able to tell if someone was trying to deceive you. Your new abilities made it so you couldn’t be hurt by anything physically or emotionally by anyone’s lies.

Once you had handle on what you could do, you needed to be able to fight, protective force fields weren’t enough. Offense was just as important as defense. Tony had paired you up with Bucky Barnes for your training. He and Bucky had gotten past their differences and Tony was in a mission to help put the Sergeant back together again. Tony was good at fixing people. You were Bucky’s first real assignment. Tony had a feeling that you would help James Barnes as much as he would help you.

Tony had been right. You kept a wall around yourself built with bricks of sarcasm, sass and witty comebacks.  Bucky recognized this immediately and sought to dismantle your carefully constructed barrier to block anyone from getting too close to you. One night he had pushed you past your limits and you had broken down. Once the floodgates opened you couldn’t shut them. Bucky was the only other person you confided your full story in. Like Tony, you knew your secrets were safe with him.

Bucky had experienced his fair share of loss. He had been experimented on without his permission. He understood, he could empathize. He used your training to help you work through your anger and grief. You excelled under his instruction. You were a hell of a hand to hand fighter and other than Bucky you had the best shot in the compound. Your aim and speed with a firearm was impeccable. Slowly, Bucky became your best friend.

After almost two years of hard work and training you had been officially made an Avenger and had been working mission after mission for almost 8 months straight. It felt great to be able to help so many people, including your teammates. But you needed a little break to recharge. You requested some time off and decided to let loose a little bit. You had spent the evening out with some of the SHEILD agents. You had become friends with a couple of the girls that were in the cadet training program.

“Cami, I warned you about him, yet again you didn’t listen. You never listen when it comes to guys.” Bucky was giving you the once over. 6AM and you had stumbled back into the compound. You had stayed with one of the girls to sober up a little bit and were hoping to sneak back in unnoticed but Bucky was up early to train with Steve.

“I know...I know. But he was so cute, I was hoping he’d try to be a gentleman.” You pulled a bottle of Tony’s expensive Vodka out of the cabinet Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Just trying to ease into the hangover.” He grinned and shook his head. As you poured a shot, the bane of your existence stormed into the kitchen. Steve Rogers looked your tight jeans, heels and fitted black T-Shirt and scoffed in judgment.

“There you are Camille, I’ve been trying to find you since last night. Are you just getting home?” You gave him a deadpanned look. “Is there a reason why Agent Harrington is out of field work for two weeks with a broken nose and two black eyes and a concussion?” He had his hand on his hip and he was glowering at you.

“Well Agent Handsy was given fair warning” Bucky leaned against the counter. Watching you and Steve verbally spar was his favorite show. You said you hated Steve and his self righteous attitude. Steve said you got under his skin and didn’t appreciate your mouth and sarcasm. It was really a poor way to veil your mutual attraction. He saw how your eyes would linger on Steve while training. He watched Steve’s eyes soften on you anytime he thought no one was looking.

“What do you mean?” Steve’s voice dropped lower. First he was ready to rip you a new one, but he didn’t like the idea of anyone putting unwelcome hands on you. He rolled his jaw wanting to give the agent a few injuries himself.

“He thought that buying me two drinks gave him permission to put his hands on my ass. I told him otherwise. He did it again and I told him if he didn’t keep his hands to himself I was going to break his face. He thought that was an invitation to try and dip his hand down the back of my pants. I saw that as an invitation to bash his face into the bar. Maybe he’ll listen to the next girl and keep his hands to himself. Maybe if he apologizes, and means it, I’ll heal his pretty boy face.” It was out of character for you to lay hands on someone like that, but you couldn’t help but think of him doing this to some other poor girl who couldn’t stop him. He needed to be taught a lesson.

“That’s my girl!” Bucky laughed. The douchebag had it coming  in his opinion. He was proud of you for sticking up for yourself.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t reprimand your for defending yourself . “I’ll have a talk with him.” You raised both of your eyebrows at Bucky in surprise. It didn’t matter what you did or the reasoning, Steve was usually pissed at you. He took the shot from in front of you and dumped it down the sink. Your jaw dropped and you glared at him.

“Hey!” You protested. It was Steve’s turn to roll his eyes.

“It’s 6am- you’re not having vodka.” You threw your hands up.

“What are you my dad? I’m on vacation.” You tried to reason, tone laced with sass, arms crossed in front of you. It was sometimes hard for Steve to believe you weren’t somehow related to Tony Stark.

“About that. I have a mission in South America and you need to come with me.” As much as your attitude pissed Steve off, you were a good teammate and excellent at what you did. You deserved some time to yourself, but he needed your skill set.

“What? No! C’mon! you promised me 7 full days off Freeze Pop.” Steve rolled his jaw at the nickname silently cursing Tony. His frustration with you was building up again. Why couldn’t you just do as you were asked, just once, without arguing.

“You speak Spanish fluently and I need a female agent with me.”

“So does Natasha. Last I checked she was also a female. Take her. I’m not really interested in pretending to be your significant other.” You knew the mission that he was referring to. The target was in vacation with his wife at some resort. The plan has been for a pair to pose as a couple on their honey moon to gain access to the resort and get closer and obtain as much intel as possible.

“It’s a recon mission. We only have one working appearance enhancer so I won’t be recognized. Nat is too recognizable. Plus you also have an uncanny ability to sense when someone is lying.”

“Natasha is an ex super spy. She would figure it out!” You knew you were fighting a loosing battle. Steve didn’t know why you really had asked for the time off, and you weren’t about to share your deepest secrets with him.

“Look, Nat is with Clint and his family for the weekend. I’m not asking her to come back.” Steve was fighting the urge to yell at you. He just wanted you to be compliant, just this one time. The idea of being close to you and alone with you had him unnerved.

“Of course. We wouldn’t want to ruin HER time off. This is bullshit!” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. You knew you were acting like a brat. You wouldn’t ask Natasha to come back. You were hoping to get him to push the mission back. Bucky’s head bounced back and forth between the two of you. He watched as Steve’s jaw clenched one more time and the little vein in his forehead pop. You were one of the few that brought this side of him out. He had infinite patience for anyone but you.

“ENOUGH!l He finally snapped. “Agent Romanoff has more than paid her dues! She’s been at it for years! I’m not going to drag her back from time with what she considers her family so you can go on a bender.” You took a few steps back and recoiled. Steve immediately regretted it. “Camille...”

“No it’s fine Captain. I get it. My need for a break is less important because what? I’ve been fighting with you for less time? I haven’t paid enough dues for you yet? Got it. Let me go get some sleep so I’ll be refreshed enough to serve you. Send me the itinerary so I’m ready when wheels go up. I’m a B-Team Avenger. No one knows who I am so for once in your eyes it makes me an asset.” You turned quicker not wanting him to see how upset you were. He wouldn’t understand why you were so upset. You thought it better he see you as a selfish brat than a broken woman.

“Cam...” Bucky’s voice trailed and you avoided his grasp. 

“It’s fine Buck.” You quickly retreated. You’d be damned if you let Steve have the satisfaction of making you cry. If he knew the real reason you were brought to tears he wouldn’t revel in it. To Steve Rogers you were young, bratty and had a problem with authority. You’d like to keep it that way. It protected you. 

Bucky gave Steve a dirty look and threw his hands up. “I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.” Steve deflated. “She’s just so infuriating. It’s not like she can’t have her time off after we get back.” Your reaction didn’t sit right with Steve. You gave him a hard time, all the time, that was true. But you never argued about a mission. 

“You know...if you dealt with your feelings, you might be able to keep it together with her." Bucky shook his head and started retreating from the kitchen. Steve cared about you, anyone that knew you could see you were funny, smart, caring and willing to put yourself on the line for anyone else. But you were afraid of letting too many people get close to you. Bucky knew you were afraid to really care about someone and lose them like you did your family. He knew you felt something for Steve Rogers too. So you kept him at arms length with attitude that drove Steve up the wall. 

"Feelings? I have no feelings." Steve's face clouded with confusion. Bucky dramatically rolled his eyes. Apparently everyone was spending too much time with Tony. He turned and headed to follow you. “I thought we were training?” Steve called after Bucky.

"I'm going to check on Cami and make sure she's alright.” Bucky pauses for a moment. “There’s a reason why she gets under your skin. Ponder that.” Steve groaned as he watched Bucky retreating down the hallway.