#in my defense: i was trying to finish falcon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sinsiriuslyemo · 1 year ago

Text

Title: The Dark Night

Pairing: Jim Gordon/Reader

Rating: PG

Summary: You and Jim work from home on a case that's been plaguing him for years, have a spirited debate on what constitues a Christmas movie, and snuggle up on the couch with some takeout.

Notes: Part of this imagine was inspired by the gifs in this tweet. Also, this is a continuation of The Dark Morning. Lastly, I know I said that the smutty one would be posted the next day (which would be tomorrow) but that's probably not gonna happen. I'm going to try to get it posted by next week, but just know I have not forgotten about it.

Warnings: none

You should’ve known that playing hooky with Jim Gordon didn’t mean you weren’t going to be doing any work the entire day. Initially you thought his excuse of wanting some time away from the precinct to work on the ongoing case against Carmine Falcone was merely an excuse to keep the Captain off your respective backs. But he wouldn’t be Jim Gordon if he neglected to do his job even for one day. It was one of the things you loved most about him, especially when it was getting more and more difficult to know who to trust in Gotham City.

The rain hadn’t let up all day, not that you minded in the slightest. You hated the rain when you had to be outside, but loved it when you could stay in. Extra points if you could spend at least some of the time snuggling with your boyfriend, watching Netflix, which he had promised you would do.

��Just as soon as I make some headway on this,” he said, his head already in his hands as he slouched over his case notes on Carmine Falcone. “I know he’s got a lot of people on his payroll, many of them high up. What I don’t know, and what I’m hoping you can help me with is who. I’ve got my suspicions, but —”

“Your gut hasn’t been wrong yet,” you replied, wiping down the kitchen counter after you finished cleaning up your mess from your late brunch earlier in the afternoon. You draped the towel over the edge of the sink and made your way over to him. “So who’s on your radar?”

He sighed as you sat in the seat beside him. “So far, a couple councilmen, a union official… Judge Faden —”

“Faden?” Your stomach clenched at the thought. “He’s always talking about how much he hates corruption in Gotham.”

“Well, that just makes him a hypocrite.”

“Why do you think he’s on the take?”

“I didn’t at first,” Jim answered, leaning back in his seat. “But then some of his decisions didn’t make any sense. He’s been fixing some of the trials. I think if I can find the pattern in the ones where he was lenient with the defendant, I just might be able to connect him directly to Falcone. And if I can do that…”

He left the sentence hanging, a twinkle in his eye that he always got any time he felt like he was onto something. Jim loved nothing more than being a cop, his passion always shone through in his work. His enthusiasm and refusal to give up on the idea that things could be better in Gotham was part of him you loved even more than his work ethic.

“Okay, so what do you got?”

“Alright, so take a look at this,” Jim said with a slight smile. He started going through every verdict Judge Faden had ever handed down, showing you the connection each of them had to one or another of Carmine Falcone’s businesses. It was quite a web, but one that with the right DA had real potential to move the needle. “The only problem is tieing Faden directly to Falcone. He’s smart, he keeps at least one or two degrees of separation. I know there’s a link somewhere, I’m just not seeing it.”

You looked over each of the names he had investigated, noticing that they all were in different fields; some worked for the government in some capacity, others in the medical field, some were defense attorneys, and others still, were the pharmaceutical industry. There wasn’t much of a pattern, except it reinforced the theory that Falcone ran Gotham all but in name.

“Favors?” you suggested. “Anything in Faden’s background that suggests he could use someone in his corner with high up connections like Falcone?”

“Not that I could find,” Jim answered. “If anything, he’s the one doing the favors.”

“What about Faden’s finances?” you asked. “I know you said on paper, he’s clean, but what about his family? He has a daughter, maybe there’s something under her name.”

“No, I checked. There’s nothing. Not under his daughter’s name or his wife.”

“What about his wife’s maiden name?”

His eyes cut to yours. “I didn’t think of that.” He pulled out his phone and began scrolling through his contacts.

“It might be a dead end, but it’s worth a shot,” you replied with a shrug.

“Let’s just hope McNichols can work his magic without anyone wondering what he’s doing,” he answered.

“Worse case scenario, I can always reach out to my old partner in Starling City,” you offered.

“Are you kiddin? Falcone gets wind that someone from outside of Gotham is looking into him or any of his connections, he’ll silence them before we ever get close.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point.”

“McNichols — Gordon — Listen, I need you to look into something…”

You stood and went into the kitchen to look in the fridge for something to make for dinner, but quickly realized there was nothing to be found. A look in the freezer didn’t help. There was a brisket in there, but there was no way it would defrost in time, and even if it did, the last thing you would be asking Jim to do would be to brave the freezing temperatures, not to mention the rain. With that in mind, you opened up the drawer where you kept the takeout menus since you weren’t about to suggest a grocery run either.

Dropping the menus on the counter for use later, you went into the living room and pushed the coffee table out of the way so that you had some space to work out. If you weren’t going to go to the gym or for a jog, you were going to at least get some crunches and planks in. As you laid on the floor, you could see Jim from the corner of your eye peering over the couch at you, his phone still pressed to his ear.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four…

He strolled over to stand behind the couch, his hands settling on the back so that he could lean forward. “Are you really doing sit ups? I thought it was supposed to be a lazy day.”

Seven.

Eight.

“You call going over case files lazy?” you asked with a smirk, your voice slightly breathless with exertion.

“Hm, touchè.” He walked around the couch, coming to kneel at your feet. He placed his hands on the tops of your feet. “We’ll have to wait a while for McNichols, so, what’s next? After your crunches of course.”

“If you work up a sweat with me, we can take a bath,” you suggested, doing two more crunches and stretching out your legs on either side of his knees.

“We worked up a sweat this morning, I thought,” he replied.

You smiled up at him. “That was cardio, but you oughta get some strength training in, don’t you think?”

He hummed, his mustache moving under his half smile as he moved so that his hands were on either side of your chest, holding his body above yours. He did a pushup, brushing your nose with his, which made you laugh. When he did another push up, you wrapped your legs around his trunk, arms going around his neck and shoulders.

“You’re adding weight now?”

“Oh come on, Sarge, show me those muscles,” you teased, not at all surprised when he pushed himself back up, bringing you along for the ride. What really impressed you was how relatively smooth he was in bringing you down. “Wow, consider me impressed.”

“That’s good, cause I think that was the only one I had in me,” he replied, earning another laugh. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “How about that bath?”

You nodded, pulling your arms away to let him stand, and letting him help you up . “I vote for pizza or Chinese by the way.”

“Let’s do Chinese, we haven’t had it in a while,” he said, following you into the bathroom. “And I think Die Hard. That's a good Christmas movie, isn’t it?”

“It’s not Christmas yet, and Die Hard is not a Christmas movie,” you answered, going to turn the water on.

“Excuse me?”

“Just because it takes place on Christmas Eve doesn't automatically make it a Christmas movie,” you said pointedly.

He pulled his shirt off, tossing it into the hamper on the other side of the bathroom. “It’s much more than the fact that it takes place on Christmas Eve, Y/N.”

“Is it?”

“How is it that we’ve been together for a year and never had this conversation?” he asked.

“Because last year, the month of December was a literal nightmare on crank. We hardly had time to scratch our asses, let alone watch a movie. Criminals must be tired this year. Besides, last December, we had just started dating. You let me pick the movie we watched on Christmas Eve, probably because you really wanted to get laid.”

“Hey!”

“No judgments, just saying,” you said, getting into the tub and scooting all the way forward to give him room to climb in behind you.

He got into the tub while you put up your hair. “Anyway, it’s more than just the fact that it takes place on Christmas Eve. For one thing, the whole reason John McClane is in LA to begin with is because he’s trying to reconcile with his wife precisely because it’s Christmas. It being Christmas is also the reason for the robbery taking place that day. There’s even Christmas music throughout the entire thing.”

“It’s an action movie,” you replied, leaning back against his chest.

“So what? Every Christmas movie has to be all lovey-dovey, warm and fuzzy, cheesy —”

“What do you have against warm and fuzzy?” you asked, suddenly offended on behalf of every Christmas romcom you’d ever seen.

“Nothing, but you apparently have something against Christmas action movies.”

“How many Christmas action movies are there again?” you asked with a smirk, looking up at him.

“There’s more than you think.”

“Name one besides Die Hard and Die Hard 2,” you challenged, gently dragging your nails over his thighs.

“Home Alone,” he answered immediately.

“What?! Home Alone is not an action movie,” you answered in a laugh.

“It most certainly is. Just ‘cause the kid’s a juvenile doesn’t mean he gets a pass. It may be softer action because he’s a kid, but it’s action nonetheless.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay fine, Home Alone is an action movie. Name another.”

“The Long Kiss Goodnight,” he said.

“Okay, I give you that one but —”

“Reindeer Games.”

“Fine, but that —”

“Invasion USA.”

You could feel rather than see his smile against the shell of your ear as he casually picked up the soap and began to create a lather between his hands. Nudging you forward, he washed your arms and your back.

“Are you ready to concede?” he asked, rinsing you off.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips kept the bite out of it. “That Christmas action movies exist? Sure.”

“And that Die Hard is one of those movies,” he said expectantly.

Letting your head gently fall back onto his shoulder with a sigh. He chuckled against your neck, while you tried to keep your smile from getting any bigger.

“Come on, sweetheart, you didn’t even give any reasonable argument as to why it can’t be considered a Christmas movie,” he said.

“Because Christmas movies are about holiday cheer, and family, and togetherness.”

“And John Mclane crashed his wife’s office Christmas party, where there was holiday cheer all around, in an effort to bring his family back together. So you see, it even fits your broad expectations of what constitutes a Christmas movie.” He kissed the spot below your earlobe. “Right?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it?”

“Absolutely,” he whispered.

“Fine, Die Hard,” you rolled your eyes again and sighed, “is a Christmas movie,” you mumbled under your breath.

“Say again?”

You turned your head to look up at him with a grin on your face, biting your lip and repeating, “Die Hard is a Christmas movie.”

“Yes,” he replied with a grin of his own.

Taking up the soap, you turned around with a chuckle and straddled his hips, washing his chest and arms. “You know I’ve actually only seen it once, and I don’t even think I finished it,” you admitted.

“You gotta be kidding me,” he said, sitting up so you could reach his back.

“I honestly don’t remember, it was so long ago. I think I might’ve fallen asleep? It was in college, I’m pretty sure I’d been cramming for finals the night before.”

He feigned a gasp while you rinsed him off, making you laugh. “Well, if you’re open to it, I would very much like to watch it with you.”

Pretending to think about it for a moment, you began to rinse him off as you answered, “Tell you what, I’ll watch Die Hard with you if you watch The Nutcracker with me.”

He let out a groan, his eyes closing.

“Oh come on, I think you’d like it if you gave it a chance,” you said.

Groaning softly, he nodded. “Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

You carefully turned again to sit back against him and stayed in the tub to soak a bit longer before getting out and drying off. After dressing, you went to get Die Hard from the DVD rack while he ordered your food. The two of you sat on the sofa, with you between his legs and pulled the throw that was kept on the back of the couch over yourselves.

“This has been a really great day,” he said while you clicked through the menu, queuing up the movie.

The rain outside had slowed down, but was still steadily falling, soaking the city of Gotham.

“It has, hasn’t it?” you said. “I just hope it’s not raining again tomorrow, because we can’t ditch work again, which means that if it rains, I will cry.”

He chuckled and tightened his arms around you. “Well, if it does, I’ll do everything I can to keep you from getting wet.”

“It’s not so much me, but the bottoms of my pants. I hate that,” you answered. “Okay, ready?”

“Oh, I’m always ready for Die Hard, baby.”

You laughed and hit play, snuggling back against him and settling in to watch John Mclane sneak around an office building on Christmas Eve.

#jim gordon #jim gordon x reader #jim gordon fanfic #nolanverse #gary oldman fanfiction #gary oldman

28 notes · View notes

bish-plz-haha · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 1

Harry looked up from the paperwork he was doing when a knock rapped on his office door. "Enter." He called. The door slid open to reveal flaming red hair against pale skin, a smile on the person's face.

"Hey, ready for lunch?" Ron asked, his robes nowhere to be seen. Harry had his hanging up on a hook on the back of the door.

Harry looked down at his paperwork and sighed, setting the quill back into the inkpot. He stood from his desk and made his way towards Ron. He smiled to his friend and followed him down the hall. They talked about their day so far and Ron went on about his new partner. "Merlin he's irritating. He goes on about policies and rules and shit. I can't get any peace. Not to mention he fuckin' says everything he's writing aloud. It's bloody distracting!" Ron rambled. Harry couldn't shake the chuckled that rose up his throat and out his lips. Ron looked at him exasperated but continued on about his partner.

"Hermione meeting us there?" He questioned a moment later after Ron had finished his rambling. As they walked into the apparition point, Ron shook his head and apparated away. Harry followed suit moments later. "Why not?" Harry asked as his feet planted on the ground once again.

They had apparated into an alleyway near the café they had ventured upon over the summer after the war. Ron hadn't been to muggle London much and Harry and Hermione made it their mission to show him the wonderous things it had to offer. It was definitely a much needed break for them after almost - or in Harry's case, actually - being killed by a dark wizard. They had come across a little café tucked away down one of the side streets and had since made it their meeting place for lunch. Once they had taken their respective jobs after their eighth year at Hogwarts, they met up for lunch as much as possible.

"She got called in for an emergency. Apparently some of the defense team were seriously injured in trying to disband a death eater safe house mockup. New recruits I'm assuming." Ron paused, his face contorting into something Harry couldn't quite pinpoint as one expression. "Ya know, I'm still in shock she didn't take the job in the ministry. Instead, she became a healer!" Ron explained.

Harry looked at him. "Well, she was definitely always one who jumped at the chance to help any way she could. Most of our job is paperwork. We get like thirty percent action and seventy percent paperwork." Harry huffed as they walked inside the café. "Hopefully nothing too serious with the new recruits though." They looked around at the small cafe, taking in the aroma of coffee, tea, and food. "I'll get the food. You find us a table, yeah?" Ron nodded and split off from him as Harry walked up the the front counter. He ordered them both food - their usual orders - and went to the table in the back Ron had snatched.

"How's the quidditch season going?" Harry asked as the waitress walked away after giving them their food and drink.

"Pretty good. Ginny says that she thinks the Holyhead Harpies have a real shot at the cup this year. Honestly, it's hard to believe how my sister has grown up so much." Ron huffed out a laugh. "Seems just yesterday she was wanting to follow me and my brothers onto the train for Hogwarts." Ron suddenly paused, a look of realisation crossing his face before he sighed deeply and continued the conversation, just with less enthusiasm. "But yeah. I think that the Tutshill Tornadoes have a good chance as well. They're up five to nothing." Ron continued, picking at his chips. Harry could see the sadness plastering on redheads face; no matter how hard he tried to mask it. It's been three years since the second wizarding war and it still hurt to have lost all the people they did.

"Huh. My bet is still on the Falmouth Falcons."

"Of course it would be." Ron laughed. "You've bloodly well supported them since you found out what quidditch was mate!" Ron exclaimed, seeming to have come out of his momentary stupor. They continued to talk about quidditch then moved on to talk about the most recent developments the ministry have made on the progress of catching the last remaining death eaters - himself and Ron working a few of the cases. From the intel the ministry has received, there's likely to only be about five death eaters still at large - a hefty bounty on all their heads.

Harry glimpsed out the window, smiling at the clear blue sky that was rarely seen in London before feeling his wand vibrate in his pocket. Ron must've felt his as well as they looked around and took them out. The tip of Harry's wand glowed green, matching the tip of his best friends wand. They quickly looked to each other, alarmed, and waved down the waitress to pay - food half eaten - before bolting out the door and into an alleyway to disapparate. Once back at the ministry, they grabbed their robes and joined a handful of aurors sat around a large cherry wood table in one of the several meeting rooms, folders in front of them.

"Ah, Auror Potter, Auror Weasley. Glad you could join us." Head Auror Robards said. Harry smiled politely at him while Ron awkwardly bowed his head in acknowledgement and sat side by side at the table. "Now, on with the briefing. As you all know, there's been an illegal potion going around the papers have dubbed 'Angel's Death'. The effects have been severe and the substance is highly addictive - abruptly ending in death after just a few months of use." Robards explained. The group of aurors sombrely nodded, looking at the file they were given. Harry looked up from the file and around the room. He caught a glimpse of platinum blonde hair and steel blue eyes. Malfoy held his gaze for a moment before returning his attention to the file.

"Our head potioneer will explain the contents of the potion from the samples we have obtained." Robards said, motioning to the blonde. Malfoy got up from his seat and moved to the front of the room, a new folder in his hands.

"Thank you, Head Auror." Malfoy said before passing around copies of his findings. He started talking about the ingredients list of the potion; explaining what the potion was as a whole then delved into the addictive nature and the ingredients that caused the sudden death. It was fascinating, really. But Harry only knew this as the paper that was passed to him said exactly what the blonde had said. Harry, on the other hand, wasn't really listening as he could see something swimming in Malfoy's eyes. He wasn't sure what but as the blonde glanced at him, something pricked at Harry's skin.

"Alright." Robards said as Malfoy sat back down in his seat. "Now that we have the background information needed to understand this as a priority, this is the mission. We have intel of a possible location where this potion might be manufactured." He paused, looking around the table. "Auror Potter will take point and lead the charge on this location. Everyone is to follow his command. Dismissed!"

Harry stared at the place the head auror was just standing before being broken out of his thoughts by a slight nudge from Ron. "Hey, you okay?" He muttered under his breath - just enough for Harry to hear. Harry nodded and look at the group who all - minus Malfoy that had his permanent bored face on - looked to him with questioning looks. Harry cleared his throat before climbing to his feet to speak.

"Um, we'll um... we'll go about this in groups of threes. Ron, me, and Peyton will each lead a group." Harry looked around nervously. He saw that no one had any objections so far and continued. "Peyton, you'll take Travis and Lara and cover the side entrance. Ron, you'll have Marko and Allen. Your group will cover the back entrance for when they undoubtedly try to make a get away. And me, Thomas, and Erin will go through the front to flush them out. Malfoy will flank us from behind as backup if needed. Peyton's group will push in from the side so there's nowhere but the back entrance to run." Everyone nodded and stood up.

"Did you just come up with that on the fly?" Ron asked him quietly as everyone dispersed to grab their gear. Harry nodded at him, smiling slightly. "Bloody impressive mate. I wouldn'ta been able to do it." Ron chuckled as he clapped Harry on the back before following the others lead and went to grab his gear. Harry smiled to himself, pleased, and trailed back to his office quickly. He grabbed his things and met everyone at the apparition point. "Alright, we know the plan. Let's get this bastard." Harry said with more confidence than he'd ever felt coursing through him as he apperated to the location.

Harry felt his feet plant firmly on the sidewalk just outside of the house. It looked Victorian and run down with ivy growing up the sides. The roof of the wraparound porch was caving in as the wood siding of the house was peeling away. Some boards on the porch looked to crack if even a bird landed amongst them. He heard people apparating behind him but he could just stare in wonder at the house. Oh what it would've been like to see the house in its prime.

Harry turned to the large group and made hand gestures to the few individuals who he deemed the group leaders. They each nodded and took their own small groups to where they were suppose to be. Harry looked at his group. Malfoy had just apparated behind Harry's group and looked around. Harry held a finger to his lips, gesturing for Malfoy to be quiet. Thankfully the blonde nodded and drew his wand, getting ready to follow the group in. Harry followed Malfoy's lead and drew his own wand. There was no way in hell he wasn't expecting an wand fight ensuing their burst through the front door.

Harry turned back around to face the house and used his wand to scan for any traps that could've been laid. Thankfully, nothing such was there as Harry guided the team forward. Once to the door, he did another scan on the door, finding a biting handle jinx and disarmed it before grabbing the door and pushing it forward. The group silently entered what appeared to be the living room at some point. Old couches eaten through by mice. A coffee table gathering dust in the middle of the room. A fireplace on the far wall sat with the ashes of the past left untouched - cold and empty. They silently made their way through more of the house. A grand dining room sat to their left from the entrance hall and the kitchen right behind that. As they made their way to the back of the house, Harry stopped his team. They listened to the quiet for a moment before they all heard a muttered voice.

"Eye of... feather of eagle..." they heard distinctly. But the rest of the words were too low and slurred to hear. Harry turned a questioning glance to Malfoy who seemed to have the same questions dancing around in his eyes. Harry internally sighed and turned back forward, ready to move his team onto the wizard. Harry looked back to them right before they were to rush the last room. They each nodded to Harry, in turn he nodded back and as quickly as they could, made their way into the room.

A wizard in tattered clothing and thinning hair paced back and forth in front of a large cauldron. Once he noticed the group, he coward behind the cauldron before another wizard stood from a chair facing the cauldron and flicked his hand towards them. This is, Harry thought to himself, why I became an auror. He quickly countered the spells and put up a shield for himself. He saw his team do so as well. Malfoy had hung back in the corridor, waiting.

"Erin!" Thomas yelled, taking Harry's attention away from the wizard in front of them. Thomas had a fury burning in his eyes as he looked away from the stunned girl lying on the floor and took charge of the fight.

"I'm going to get Malfoy. Keep him distracted from us for a few moments!" Harry shouted around the buzz of spells being thrown. Thomas nodded and continued countering and attacking when he got the chance. Harry ran to the corridor quickly. "I need you to look at Erin. She's been hit by something." Harry quickly said as he appeared in the doorway.

"I'm not a healer, Potter." Malfoy said with the usual exasperation in his tone but quickly followed the man back into the room nonetheless. Malfoy knelt down beside the girl as Harry went back beside Thomas, waiting for Malfoy's assessment. Once Malfoy was done, he stood and pulled Harry back beside him, quickly giving him the lowdown.

"She'll be okay once we get the healers to her. No internal bleeding I can find and nothing serious like a concussion or any broken bones. She's just stunned." Malfoy explained. Harry nodded, casting a glance to the girl and then back to Malfoy.

"Thank-"

"Watch out!" Malfoy exclaimed as he tried to push Harry away, his wand drawn, but it was too late. A spell hit both of them. They both went flying backwards - Harry's back hitting the wall, knocking the air from his lungs then cracking sound as his head hit the wall as well. Malfoy landed on the floor in front of him with a heavy thud. "Fu-ck!" Malfoy exclaimed in between breaths. Harry just slid down the wall, breaths ragged and uneven.

Harry looked around the room to assess the situation. Erin was stunned on the floor. Malfoy was in front of him on the floor, clutching his arm. Thomas was the last defence left. One of the wizards had already fled. He hoped that Ron's group had apprehended him. Harry tried to stand but he was just too shaky and out of breath. He kept himself still against the wall, watching as Thomas drove the wizard back and put a binding spell on him as he tried to flee through a door Harry could only assume the other wizard fled through earlier.

"Are you okay?" Thomas asked as he rushed over to Harry and Malfoy after grabbing the wizards wand from him.

"Get the healers." Harry managed to get out. Harry was sure he had some broken ribs and possibly a fractured skull. But only healers can really tell. Thomas nodded and pulled out his wand.

"There. Done." Thomas said. Harry didnt catch what else he had said as the edges of his vision started going black. He heard some muffled yelling but couldnt quite make out what they were saying as the world faded to darkness. It wasn't black, per se. But rather a void.

Harry had awoken to a few healers hovering over him. "Ah, you're awake!" One of the healers exclaimed as she smiled down at him. He looked around at his surroundings. He was laid on the floor of the house with Malfoy right next to him; a few healers surrounding him as well. "Try not to move around too much, Auror Potter. We're still trying to determine what had hit you if not a stunning or binding spell."

God this sucks. Came a voice in his head. It didn't sound like his own voice but he chose to ignore it as it didn't happen again.

Ron rushed through the door, eyes scanning the broken room until finally landing on his best friend. "You alright mate?" He asked as he knelt down beside Harry. Harry nodded and laid staring up at the healers as one of them scolded him for moving around quite a bit.

"Yeah. I'll be fine. Nothing too severe." Harry mumbled. He wasn't entirely sure of that until the healers informed him so.

"Where's my concern, Weasel?" Malfoy sneered.

"Oh shove off Malfoy. I can already see you're fine." Ron snapped back.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and stood up with the watchful gaze of the healers on him. "I'm going back to my office." Malfoy informed after getting a few phials of the liquid in the cauldron. Harry heard one of the healers protesting against him apparating but quickly after a sharp snap of air rang out, Malfoy was gone.

#fanfiction #mine #harry potter #drarry #draco x harry #harry potter fanfiction #hp au #hp fanfic #hp fandom #harry potter fandom #draco malfoy #harry potter x draco malfoy

8 notes · View notes

scknight05 · 8 months ago

Text

Fuck It Friday

Tagged by the always wonderful @tizniz

So, how we all doing guys? It's been 24 hours since the most wonderful thing has happened. I've watched the episode twice and those last five minutes NUMEROUS times. It's so beautiful!

Anyway this is actually the first 9-1-1 story I ever decided to work on. I shelved it after a bit because I needed to rework some stuff but haven't gotten around to it yet. I'm not giving up on it cuz this stupid little idea has spawned into a series of ideas/stories I want to try and pull off at some point. So enjoy the nonsense of my multiverse crossover idea! Snippet and more behind the cut.

“You have got to be kidding me! This is… this unreal!” Eddie gazed in amazement and he and Buck slowly made their way down the short ramp into the bridge. “I’m seeing it…but I’m still not believing it.” Buck stopped and slowly spun around, taking in the sight before them. “Ya know,” Buck began, taking a moment to let his brain try and process what he was seeing, “when I woke up this morning, I was NOT expecting to end up on the Millenium Falcon!” “How typical. You save a man’s life and he repays you in insults by comparing you to the most boring ship ever.” Buck slightly cowered as the unknown voice surrounded him while Eddie just froze wide eyed in his tracks. “Uh.. Okay maybe the Enterprise then.” Buck threw his hands up defensively, not even sure who he was arguing with. “Hmph. That would be an improvement over the last example.” “Wait, wait, wait.” Eddie looked around, even more confused. “Who is even saying that? We heard that voice earlier when we were in the medical area.” “Oh that’s just Gideon.” Drew said with a smile as he and Riley walked to the hexagonal console in the center of the room. “And Gideon would be who, exactly?” Buck asked as if the name would mean something. Buck barely had a chance to finish his question before a holographic blue head appeared above the console, starring directly at him and Eddie. “Hello, gentlemen. I am Gideon, the artificial consciousness programmed to operate the critical systems of the ship. Welcome aboard the Wave Rider, Mr. Buckley. And you as well Mr. Diaz.” “Buck..” Eddie stared at Gideon’s holographic image as she spoke to them both, using the back of his hand to lightly tap his best friend’s arm to get his attention. “it knows our names.” “Uh Gideon is a she. Not an ‘it’.” Drew corrected sternly. “And I’d be a bit nicer if I were you. She did save your lives after all.” “You’ll have to forgive Eddie.” Buck never took his eyes away from Gideon. “He’s kind of a technophobe. Had a bad experience with a smart house AI once.”

Tagging @warpedpuppeteer @racerchix21 and anyone else. I don't know who else to tag lol

#911 #911 fanfic #buddie fanfic #crossover fanfic #legends of tomorrow #multiverse crossover #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #.#also yes #I used my name for an OC because I couldn’t come up with a name I liked and never changed it #so sue me

1 note · View note

gingergofastboatsmojito · 6 months ago

Text

I just gave it a shot:

Play

Carmy and Sydney are sitting side by side in a family service that takes place after an insanely busy lunch service, which has proved to be obscenely profitable, so they are actually celebrating. But they are so exhausted that they don’t even feel like eating or talking for that matter. Most of the staff falls into easy conversation as per usual, small talk that turns into laughter, the typical internal jokes between Ebra and Tina that crack everyone start causing their typical effect in the tight-knit group but Carmy and Syd remain silent, at the head of the table. At the other end of the table, Richie clocks the EC’s hand that creeps upon Sydney’s braids and starts casually playing with them. She doesn’t mind and lets him continue indulging in this innocent game he loves. Carmy is not even aware he’s doing it and keeps it up. They are both in their bubble and Richie’s falcon eyes are all over them. Cousin says nothing. Two days later, in a run-of-the-mill shift meeting, the same creepy tattooed hand strikes Sydney’s braids again and Richie side-eyes it but tries to play it cool till the meeting is over. Once the meeting finishes, Richie, unable to keep his silence any longer, pulls Carmy aside to have a word. "Cousin, is there something you wanna tell me?" “Nope.” Richie’s voice laced with unease clarifies, "I've noticed you have been “playing” for lack of a better term with Syd’s hair a lot lately. I know you guys are close, but it seems a bit odd unless…” Sydney shows up unannounced behind Richie and goes, "Unless you mind your fucking business and understand that it's just something he does, Richie. It's like a comfort thing for him, I guess. It doesn't bother me, so I’m not sure why it seems to bother you." “It doesn’t bother me, it just looks unprofessional.” Carmy looks unbothered by Richie’s comments by Syd is furious. "Just because something doesn't fit into your narrow view of what's professional doesn't mean it's not," Sydney retorts, her eyes flashing with anger. "Try focusing on your own habits before criticizing others, Richie." Richie, taken aback by Sydney's fiery defense, stammers for a moment before replying, "All right, I hear you. I'll mind my own business, boss." Carmy, having stayed silent throughout the exchange, finally speaks up. "Maybe you’re just jealous, cousin. Do you want me to play with your hair too?” “Oh, was that it? Sorry, Richie, my bad. You deserve some love too. But Carmy, cousin doesn’t have much hair left to play with… you will have to hurry up.” Syd and Carmy both laugh out loud and Richie storms out, visibly obfuscated. The next day in family service Carmy stands behind Richie’s chair and starts to innocently play with his hair, “Touch me one more time, lizard and I swear to God I will rip it off.” Carmy backs off smiling mischievously and Sydney’s voice from the other side of the room rings out, "Careful, Richie, he signs your checks with that hand, plus stress causes hair loss, you might wanna relax!" Everybody laughs at Cousin’s expense and he storms out, yet again. Later that day, at Carmy’s place, while he’s doing the dishes, Syd goes up behind him, wraps her arms around his waist, and as she places her chin on his shoulder asks, “How do you think he will react when he finds out you also “play” with other parts of me?” ;)

Someone needs to write a fanfic of Carmy rubbing his hand along Syd's back, and he doesn't realize he's doing it. Like right in the middle of a shift meeting, and Richie side eyes it.

#sydcarmy #the bear fanfiction #gingersidcarmyff #the bear

212 notes · View notes

excusethequality · 11 months ago

Text

My 2023 in Film

Part 3:

101-150

Am I starting to regret listing all of these on here? A bit, yes!

True to form I underestimated the scope of this project. Also true to form I made it more complicated than was strictly necessary.

But in my defense I nearly started out writing little reviews/thoughts for each one, mentioning notable actors/directors, and putting in pictures before finally acknowledging that all of that would have just resulted in me not finishing it at all.

Link to Part I Link to Part II

* = rewatched

[++] = I loved it [+] = I liked it [=] = I am indifferent about it [-] = Not my thing [--] = I hate it

Click on the list number to get a trailer for it.

101.

Air (2023) ---Biopic Business Drama

A biopic about the man and the team that created the first Air Jordans. [+]

102.

Evil Dead Trap (1988) ---Horror

The host of a late night tv show receives what seems to be a snuff tape. In search of a good story she grabs a crew and attempts to track down where the video was shot. [-]

103.

Falcon Lake (2022) ---Coming-of-age Drama

A French family take a trip with their Canadian friends to a lake cabin in Quebec. While there their kids bond over a local legend about the ghost of the lake. [+]

104.

Ojibwa Warrior: The Legacy of Dennis Banks (2021) ---Documentary

A documentary about the life and legacy of native american activist Dennis Banks. [=]

105.

Terrifier (2016) ---Horror

A creepy clown kills people and generally gets gross about it. [--]

106.

Primal Rage (1988) ---Horror

A newspaper reporter got bitten by a monkey after sneaking into a university research lab and all he got to show for it was this infectious rage virus. [+]

107.

Horrible Bosses (2011) ---Crime Comedy

A group of friends all hate their respective bosses and concoct a murder-swapping plan to solve their problem. [=]

108.

Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping (2016) * ---Mockumentary Comedy

A mockumentary chronicling the life of a former boy band member turned solo artist as he tries to recover from a slump. [+]

109.

Antichrist (2009) ---Horror

A married couple go to a remote cabin to try and deal with the grief of losing their child, but things get weird and dark. [=]

110.

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023) ---Fantasy Adventure Comedy

A party of adventurers plan an epic heist in order to save the world. [+]

111.

First Love (2019) ---Crime Action

One night a boxer and a call girl become entangled in a dangerous knot of yakuza, drugs, and schemes. [=]

112.

Peter Pan & Wendy (2023) ---Fantasy Adventure

If you don't know what Peter Pan is about by now, then that's honestly kind of impressive, and you should consider seeing the play or reading the book. For everyone else, this one was directed by the same guy who did The Green Knight (2021). [+]

113.

Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986) * ---Comedy Adventure

A high school senior decides that today is his chance to enjoy one last day of true teenage freedom before graduation and he's determined to make the most of it. [++]

114.

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018) * ---Animated Superhero Action Adventure Comedy

Peter Parker (aka Spider-Man) narrowly stops a madman from inadvertently tearing New York apart with a device made for tunneling into parallel dimensions, but not before coming into direct contact with it. Now Spiders from different dimensions have been sucked into this world and it's up to a teenager named Miles Morales to save his dimension and the Spiders along with it. [++]

115.

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) ---Animated Superhero Action Adventure Comedy

Miles Morales discovers a secret society of Spider-people, but soon learns that the cost of membership is higher than he's willing to pay. Now the effects of his meddling may have just destabilized the entire multiverse. [+]

116.

Parasite (2019) *

A poor family cons their way into working for a wealthy one. Now with a taste of a better life they are confronted with the reality of what the true cost of wealth may be. [++]

117.

Spider Baby (1967) ---Horror

Three siblings suffer from a rare condition that causes them to begin to mentally regress when they hit puberty. Cared for by their butler after the death of their parents, he has managed to keep their penchant for murder a secret. However, there's only so long one can hide a secret like that. [=]

118.

Terrifier 2 (2022) ---Horror

That murder clown is back! And this time there's actually kind of/sort of a plot. Also this time it's nearly 2.5 hours long for some reason. [-]

119.

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018) *

[see #114] Watched it with commentary this time.

120.

Moonlight (2016) ---Queer Drama

Over the course of his life a black man struggles to learn how to be safe, accepted, and happy in a world that seems determined to undermine who he wants to be. [++]

121.

Blackberry (2023) ---Business Drama Bio-pic Comedy

The story of men who created the Blackberry and changed the course of communication technology forever. [+]

122.

Ginger Snaps 2: Unleashed (2004) ---Coming-of-Age Horror

Brigitte Fitzgerald struggles to keep her werewolf infection at bay, but a misunderstanding lands her in a rehab clinic. Between slowly becoming a monster, being trapped in this clinic, and being hunted by another werewolf, there's only so much a young woman can take before she snaps. [++]

123.

The Cow Who Sang a Song into the Future (2022) ---Magical Realism Drama

A Chilean woman comes back from the dead and tries to make sense of the world, but finds her presence affects her family in very different ways. [-]

124.

The Revenant (2015) ---Western Adventure

A frontiersman in 1820s America fights for survival and revenge after being left for dead. [=]

125.

Ginger Snaps Back: The Beginning (2004) ---Period Horror

Two sisters in 1800s Canada try to find a safe heaven after their father and the rest of his trading party fail to return. Although they are soon to learn that monstrous things lurk in the hearts of some men and that things are not always as they appear. [=]

126.

All About Evil (2010) ---Campy Horror Comedy

A meek woman inherits her father's failing movie theater. But in order to keep it up and running she finds she has to embrace her dark side and create her own brand of horror movie. [-]

127.

A Fish in the Bathtub (1998) ---Relationship Drama Comedy

A testy 40-year marriage finally hits the breaking point when the husband insists on keeping a live fish in their bathtub. [-]

128.

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World (2010) * ---Action Adventure Comedy

Scott Pilgrim is stuck in a rut. But when he falls in love with the mysterious new girl in town he's going to have to defeat her 7 evil exes in order to have a chance with her. [=]

129.

Chile '76 (2022) ---Period Drama

During the military dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet an upper-class Chilean woman goes to her summer house to oversee its renovation. But when a chance encounter gives her an opportunity to do something meaningful with her life and skills, she learns that everything has a cost. And safety and freedom often do not walk hand in hand. [=]

130.

Mohawk (2017) ---Period Action Revenge

During the War of 1812 a Mohawk woman is torn between two lovers and how best to handle the war. But a mass killing will soon force her into the fight and one wrong move could have deadly consequences. [-]

131.

Shivers (1975) ---Horror

A man's quest to develop a parasite to free humanity from its prudish shackles has deadly results when it gets lose in an apartment complex. [-]

132.

Pusher II (2004) ---Crime Drama

Freshly out of prison Tonny wants to make a name for himself and impress his father. But when he learns that he might have a son of his own he begins to question his life's path, what kind of dad he wants to be, and if it's too late to change. [+]

133.

Slumber Party Massacre (2021) ---Meta Horror Comedy

An overly aware of itself sequel remake of the 1982 slasher movie of the same name. [-]

134.

Hot Rod (2007) *

[see #87]

[++]

135.

Calvaire (2004) ---New French Extremity Horror

I think describing this movie in a succinct way might be beyond my skills as it has a lot to say and a very dark and unusual way of saying it. Suffice it to say that it's about an entertainer who is traveling to perform at a Christmas special when his van breaks down in the middle of nowhere and...uh...some wild shit goes down. [+]

136.

Grizzly (1976) ---Animal Attack

I mean, it's essentially Jaws...but if Jaws was about a bear and didn't have Steven Spielberg-level talent. [-]

137.

Tremors (1990) * ---Queer Buddy Comedy Creature Feature

Two "business partners" in rural Nevada are all that stand in the way of a pack of monstrous underground worms that want to eat everyone. [++]

138.

Asteroid City (2023) ---Comedy Drama

In 1950s America an odd collection of characters gather in Asteroid City for a youth astronomical science competition, but are held in quarantine when the competition gets some unexpected guests...except not really. [=]

139.

What's Your Number? (2011) * ---Rom-Com

A woman reads a magazine article that makes her self conscious about the number of sexual partners she's had in her life and starts on a quest to investigate if any of her exes have matured since they were last together. [=]

140.

Elemental (2023) ---Animated Rom-Com

Water. Earth. Fire. Air. Currently the four nations kindofnotreally live together in harmony. Then everything changed when this fire lady fell in love with a water dude, which I guess had never happened before in the perhaps thousands of years these beings have been around? In any case it's all a metaphor for immigration and race relations. [-]

141.

Cat People (1942) * ---Queer Horror

An immigrant woman feels different from those around her. She tries to live a normal life in fear that giving in to her true impulses will result in her turning into a murderous panther. [++]

142.

Free Guy (2021) ---Sci-Fi Action Comedy

An NPC in a MMORPG gains sentience and tries to become a hero. [+]

143.

Wolf Creek (2005) ---Road Trip Horror

An Australian road trip goes awry when three friends find themselves stranded in the middle of the desert after their car breaks down. The good news? A local man comes across them and agrees says he'll give them a tow. The bad news? The man has a secret agenda of his own. [-]

144.

My Super Ex-Girlfriend (2006) ---Superhero RomCom

A man finds out that the women he's been dating is actually a superhero. But this makes things awkward (and dangerous) for him when he wants to break up. [-]

145.

Highlander (1986) [Director's Cut, baby!] * ---Fantasy Action Adventure

A Scottish highlander discovers he's an immortal and is destined to embark on a quest across the ages to be the last immortal left alive. [++]

146.

Unwelcome (2022) ---Folk Horror

A British couple moves to the Irish countryside. But when they fail to respect the local traditions they might wind up paying the ultimate price. [=]

147.

Johnny Mnemonic (1995) ---Sci-Fi Action

In a future of technology run amok a data smuggler might have bitten off more than he can chew when he accepts to carry a highly dangerous package. [--]

148.

Sound of Metal (2019) ---Drama

A metal drummer begins to lose his hearing and struggles to accept a future so different from the one he had dreamt of. [++]

149.

Vesper (2022) ---Sci-Fi Adventure

A 13 year old bio-hacker struggles to carve out a life for herself in a future where the environment has turned against humanity. [=]

150.

Werewolves Within (2021) ---Mystery Horror Comedy

A forest ranger has only just started a new job in a small town when he begins to suspect that a werewolf in lurking in the town. [+]

#xcusethequality

1 note · View note

real-jane · 2 years ago

Text

poet laureate

part 2 - [prof bucky barnes x fem!reader]

summary: bucky embraces the chaos of a new job, and his girl finishes the project.

warnings: rampant fluff.

a/n: this is posted. i have been trying to finish it for literally ages and finally just forced myself to stop fiddling with it. I hope you enjoy!

series masterlist

Bucky awoke to two furry paws palpating his chest, Alpine’s sharp talons prickling like they did when she was being affectionate. There was something else waiting for him on his phone screen, which he didn’t see until he had squeezed every last drop of coffee out of the grounds in his french press, plopped a heaping spoonful of wet food into Alpine’s dish, and knocked his shin into the open dishwasher door. Bruised and under-caffeinated, Bucky sat at the kitchen table and blinked wearily at his phone. His eyes widened.

PL: Are you dead?

“Shit-shit–Alpine, this is your fault!”

Bucky was late to meet her at his office. They had finally set down solid plans: Saturday at nine o’clock sharp. In his cat’s defense, she had tried to rouse him from a particularly lurid dream, so that he could meet ‘PL’ to start cleaning out the tiny storage room in the guise of an office he had occupied for four years. But he had slept poorly since the night he saw her at Howler’s, and he was an enemy of early mornings.

He hit ‘dial’ before he could think twice and touched the speaker phone, so he could throw on a shirt at the same time.

“You had about two minutes before I called Search and Rescue,” she said, amusement coloring her tone.

Bucky huffed, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. “I overslept–”

“Let’s try again tomorrow?”

“I’ll be fifteen minutes, doll–”

“Bucky, it’s already eleven-fifteen. I gotta go.”

“Wha–you said you were free.”

“I was free. At nine,” she said gently. “I can give you a few hours tomorrow morning.”

Bucky sighed. He was in the wrong–he knew that. Over two hours late, of course she had something else to do! Oh–

“Your thesis.” He scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Among other things. Are you okay?”

Bucky ignored the question, to which he did not have a sufficient answer. “Do–uh–you need me to look it over?”

“...I’m meeting up with Wilson for final edits.”

He sat down slowly on the bed, with his buttons askew and one side of his hair attempting to stand straight up. “Oh. Good. He’ll set you up for success, no doubt. Glad you took my advice.”

“I usually do,” she chuckled.

“Don’t let him trap you in a lecture about cult fantasy authors from the 1960s, or his career playing college football. Trust me.”

“...you’re serious?”

“Deadly. Sam ‘the Falcon’ Wilson will hold you hostage talking about the differences between wizards and sorcerers.”

“Noted. Hey, have you called Mike, yet?”

“No. I don’t–ah. No.”

“I won’t push. When you get here, I didn’t touch any of your files. I wasn’t sure if that was a breach of confidentiality.”

Bucky groaned. “...you are not standing inside my office right now.”

“The cleaner let me in. Bill likes me. I tutored his granddaughter last semester. I hope you don’t mind wine boxes, that was what Mike had to offer. They’re sturdy at least–”

“Doll… I’m so sorry.”

Her laugh bloomed in his left breast, cushioning his heart from slamming against his ribs in self-flagellation. “Hey. I’ll put it on your tab.”

“I’ll be there at nine tomorrow, I swear.”

“Let’s make it eleven, you bring the cold brew.”

“Eleven it is.”

“Oh–if you’re not busy tonight. I’m having a thing. Well, Mike’s throwing me a thing–I won’t let him call it a party. To celebrate me being done with my Master’s. It’ll be low-key.”

“You know I’m not busy,” he said.

“Then I guess I want you to come. Eight thirty?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Mmkay. I gotta go. I don’t know how one man owns so many copies of Our Town, but they’re safely packed away.”

Bucky carded a hand through his hair. “Thank you.”

“Pssh. I’ll see you tonight.”

“If I’m up to it.”

“Call me cautiously optimistic.”

She hung up without any ceremony, leaving Bucky to stare at his phone on the dresser in defeat. Not only had she waited for him, she had asked someone to let her in–and then took it upon herself to start packing up his books, as if she had any inkling about how he wanted them organized. Who was he kidding–she probably had a better idea than he did. Nevertheless, the shame curled around his ankles like weights.

It had been three days since he asked to kiss her.

Of all the sensations from their fleeting night together, he couldn’t remember what her lips felt like, and it seemed like something he might never know again. She had wanted to kiss him back, but she didn’t trust that it wasn’t the whiskey talking. I still want to kiss you seemed like a contrived message to send via text, and calling her just to say ‘about that–kissing still sounds great, if you could just pencil me in’ was just about the most mortifying idea he could think of. So he kept that admission on the tip of his tongue. In-person delivery was the only acceptable option. People don’t write about kissing, much, he thought. The yearning for it, yes, but not the act itself. Maybe with good reason.

Imagine typing out such a thing with his thumbs on the world’s tiniest keypad: I want to memorize what your lips feel like with mine. No tongues need even be involved. Just touching. And if we could do it three or four hundred times, that might be enough to start.

His phone buzzed.

PL: Stop overthinking.

Oh, sure. It was that simple. Just stop–easy.

Trouble was, his organs all seemed to be functioning on the same train tracks, for better or for worse, and his brain was that pesky third rail. Deadly for sanity, electrified… all because his heartlines couldn’t stop thrumming her name. Her telling him not to overthink was like lightning telling thunder not to crash. I’m not me without you.

He let out a slow breath. Bucky hadn’t been in that much danger–of losing himself, going under–since he was a skinny twerp in too-big fatigues, far from home. And where had that gotten him?

PL: If you don’t text back, I'll call you again.

Bucky snorted. ‘You’re not the boss of me,’ he replied, imagining her wrinkled nose when she read it.

PL: I'm not keeping score, you know. PL: There won't be a test.

‘what if I am?’

PL: How am I doing prof?

‘at annoying me? top marks’

PL: There he is.

‘i am really sorry about this morning,’ he sent.

PL: One of these days you’ll stop punishing yourself for being human. ❤️

The audacity of that little heart…

He didn’t go to the office, no. He laid back on his bed and let that sweet emoji run circles between his ears.

“What do you think?” she asked as Professor Wilson flipped over the last page of her gargantuan thesis. Wilson sat back in his chair and shook his head.

“I still think it could be about ten pages shorter.”

“You sound like Barnes,” she snorted. “You’re lucky. He probably read a hundred bad poems before we got here.”

“Must be stressful finishing without his insight,” Sam said. His sincerity hit her square in the chest.

“Nah, it’s my fault,” she murmured. It was stressful, but less so for her than for the man in question.

“What is?”

“Putting revision off to the last minute.”

“Girl, your advisor did not quit because you were procrastinating. I’m sure his reasons were his own.”

She smiled. “No, I know. Still feel like it’s my fault a little bit. Can’t help it. Anyway. Here are my acknowledgements, and the Table of Contents. I’ll revise it if you think it really needs it, but I think this order makes the most sense.” Y/n produced a small stack of papers from her binder and slid them across the table.

Sam took them, but he gave her a soft smile. “It’s okay to be annoyed with him. Heaven knows I am, between you, me, and the wall.”

“Hmm. You talk to him at all?” She tried not to sound eager–she could talk to him, she had his phone number, but being stood up to help him that morning had rankled enough that she packed all of his books spine-down so he wouldn’t be able to see what was what when he reopened the boxes again. It wasn’t felonious retaliation, but it would make him sigh and roll his eyes… and send her a grumpy text.

“Have you?” Sam muttered.

Her face fell out of the unwitting smile which pulled at her cheeks as she pondered annoying her former mentor. She bit her lip guiltily and shook her head.

“Hmm.”

“Wilson–” Y/n stopped. She hazarded a glance at the professor who had so graciously agreed to help her with one of the most important projects of her life at the last minute, and found him studying her with narrowed eyes. “Thank you. Really. I, uh. Sorta thought I was on my own with this thing.”

“Believe it or not, I thrive under pressure. Unlike my pal Barnes.” Sam sat back with her list of acknowledgments but it was clear he wasn’t reading it as much as he was analyzing her.

“It wasn’t that, for him. I don’t think. Pressure.” She shrugged. “He just doesn’t ever think about what he wants, and when he finally did… teaching wasn’t it.”

“Maybe so.”

“He’ll figure something out. A mind like his can’t be idle for long.”

“Right. Sure we’re talking about the same guy?” Sam asked. They shared a little laugh at the expense of Professor Barnes, though neither of them thought the least bit ill of him.

“You work with somebody long enough and you see a side of them that they don’t even know, themselves,” Y/n said. “He’s got a purple heart, but he doesn’t talk about it. His classes are full within minutes of enrollment opening. And he never makes somebody feel like shit just because he doesn’t like their work, like–do you know how many of these he hates? But they’re my work so he doesn’t talk about them like my feelings don’t matter. He critiques the form, or the word choice. But not me, not the heart of it. You can’t know how much that makes a person grow when somebody believes in their work like that. I’m not–I don’t blame him for quitting, I just wish I could bottle that time we had.”

Her cheeks warmed when Sam remained silent, but he cast his focus onto the papers in his hands, and didn’t press her to go on. Which was for the best because she probably could’ve gone on all day about how special Bucky Barnes was to her. How beautiful he made her feel without ever telling her that she was, because his hands once hovered around her face like a makeshift halo. And Sam was the one who’d monologue? She wondered what Bucky would say if he knew how intensely she ached every minute they were apart.

And what she would do if he showed up at Howler’s again, on second invitation. She needed him close, to surround herself in whatever the expansive knowingness was which bloomed whenever he was in proximity. To smell cedar and sandalwood and know it was because he stood nearby. In arm’s reach. Maybe reaching back, if she was lucky.

Yes, she was sad he had resigned because working with him had changed her life, but… she didn’t want Bucky because he was a good professor. His intuition and wit fit with hers like two halves of a wishbone. Bucky quitting was not their breaking point. It was the wish which would allow him to be more to her than a dream, than her muse.

She had written more intensely about love since meeting him than she could have fathomed possible, and watched that image shift from childish butterflies to a steady flame. She wasn’t sure if she loved him, but she could. If he let her.

Consequences be damned.

She watched Professor Wilson shuffle her papers together in the right order to finalize the body of work she had amassed over two years as a fellow of the program, and she was hit with a stunning realization:

If I have to give this up to have him… I’ll do it. Two years of work? No price at all. It was an investment in someone who gave words new meaning. Words like ‘sorry’ and ‘thank you.’

It made her palms itch to rip her phone out of her pocket and call him right at that moment–I want you, I don’t care what happens!--but she wanted to give him a choice. She wanted to see him make it. Hopefully tonight.

“I don’t even like poetry, but this is incredible,” Sam said finally. “You should be really proud of yourself. I’m sure Barnes is.”

“I know he is,” she murmured. “Hey, I’m having a celebration thing at Howler’s in Bed-Stuy tonight if you and your lady-friend wanna come!”

Sam chuckled. “We could be convinced. Who’s going?”

“I dunno, really. Whoever I ask. It’s my cousin’s idea, he owns the place. I don’t know a ton of people.”

“You say the word and I’ll have my senior lit TA’s all over that bar. Nobody likes to drink like overworked undergrads with Senioritis.”

“Sure,” she smiled. “I’m game.”

“What time?”

“Eight-thirty? Barnes might be there, actually. So.”

“If my man shows up to a bar, that would be a miracle,” Sam scoffed. “That’s a homebody if I ever seen one.”

“He might surprise you!”

“When pig’s fly. Do you wanna do anything else to this before we seal it? Or are we calling your thesis done-zo?”

“Done-zo? Why did I ask you to help, again?”

“For that, you’re over!” Sam slid the finished manuscript into the padded envelope, which he had pre-addressed to the company who binds all theses for the university. “There! You make fun of me, you get no more edits.”

“...did we put my name on it?” Y/n asked in mock seriousness. Sam glared at her.

“Get out of here, you! I will see you at eight thirty sharp with a beautiful woman on my arm! And no sooner.”

“Okay, okay!” She stood up, but Sam stopped her with a hand extended. She wrapped her fingers around his and squeezed. “Thanks,” Y/n breathed.

“Welcome.” Sam waved her out the door, and she practically skipped down the hall… past the office which used to belong to Professor Barnes. Her fingertips brushed the plaque bearing his name as she silently thanked him for helping her get there.

Someday soon, she’d be able to hand him a bound copy of the legacy they made, together.

Mike had been almost relieved to get Bucky’s call, enquiring after the barback position. Bucky had stopped by to pick up his shirt early that afternoon, and so Mike could give him some official-looking papers to sign, and take a photograph of Bucky’s ID with his cell phone. Standing outside the bar on the small patio (smoking an anxious cigarette) was the perfect opportunity to question why he had sought out this job, why he ever thought it was a good idea.

But he had to be okay with life not being quite so cut-and-dry for a while. He was bad at spontaneity. Going with the flow was not his forte. Practice would certainly help… in theory.

And she was inside. He had already spied her through the window on approach and developed an instant arrhythmia at the thought of seeing her again.

Is this what addiction feels like? he wondered, as he took another hit of the lesser drug. He could probably stop smoking in a weekend.

“If it isn’t Mr. Free Agent!” Sam Wilson came out of the bar through the side door.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky asked as his friend joyfully shook his hand.

“Didn’t you hear? My mentee finished her thesis today. Submitted and everything.”

Bucky looked down at the ash he flicked from his cigarette. Sam’s mentee. “Right,” Bucky breathed.

“I gotta ask you a frank question. I think I already know the answer but I’m curious what you’re going to say.”

“Shoot.”

Sam made certain there was no one within hearing distance and then leaned close. “Did you sleep with her?”

“Jesus,” Bucky breathed, closing his eyes. He brought the cigarette to his lips, and he inhaled until his chest burned. At first, he didn’t look at Sam, but the other man held out a fresh beer. Bucky took it but Sam didn’t let go.

“You’re a stupid fucker, I’ll give you that,” Sam growled.

“Careful–”

“You have no idea the shit being thrown around the water cooler about why you quit, professor.” Sam pushed Bucky back further into the shadows as a flock of co-eds filed out of the bar. “You showing up here is only gonna fuel the fire. Do you know how many of your former students are in there sipping Old Fashioneds? Are you prepared for the firestorm of questions about to come your way?”

“...Are you finished?”

Sam scoffed. “Yeah, I’m done.”

Bucky undid the zipper on his coat and held open the placate. “You’re looking at Howler’s new barback. And yes–I am aware how stupid I am, thank you. Which is why I quit.” Bucky ground the remnant of his cigarette beneath his boot. “And thank you so much for your concern.”

“Man, I–shit.” Sam rubbed his face. “I’m sorry.”

Bucky shook his head as if to say forget it. He and Sam shared a look of regret, which cooled Bucky’s mortification. But Sam leaned against the brick wall, sipping his beer. Waiting. Bucky mirrored his posture, and handed Sam back the unopened can, however tempting it was to chug the drink before throwing himself into the lion’s den.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Bucky said, with a heavy shrug. “I didn’t have a drop of alcohol in me. I just–for once, I listened when the idiot–” he tapped his temple– “had a wild impulse.”

“Ah.” Sam drank deeply.

“Yeah. And it was the best night of my fucking life.”

“...so you quit.”

“What was I supposed to do?”

“You love her?”

“What does that even mean?” Bucky asked.

“You’re the poetry guy.” Sam finished his beer and crushed his can against the brick. “For what it’s worth, her thesis is brilliant.”

“I know.”

“Wait until you see the bound version. I sent it off to the printer this afternoon. It’s a beast. Even the acknowledgements are beautiful.”

“Good. God–you should’ve seen her symposium, Sam.” Buck scratched his chin. “Two hundred people… dead silent while she read. Never been so proud in my goddamn life.”

Sam whistled, low and slow. “Sure sounds like love.”

“She packed my office today, before she saw you,” Bucky sighed. “She suggested this job, and she invited me here. She doesn’t know that I got hired though, so.”

“You were gonna surprise her.”

“I dunno, man. I’m trying to just… do things that feel good. Somehow, she has aligned with that. And I’m scared out of my mind, but she’s clever, so I figure if it’s her idea…” Bucky trailed off. “If anyone asks, just tell ‘em I had a quarter life crisis, and all i've ever dreamed of is sweeping up broken glass in a whiskey bar.”

Sam chuckled. “You’re gonna be late, mister barback.” Bucky saluted and turned down the alley to make his way to the front entrance. “Buck–”

“Hmm?”

“If this is you stupid… I hope you’re happy. You’ve been a miserable bastard.”

Bucky smiled. “We’ll see.”

He tucked his chin when the bell on the door tinkled; it was just as busy as it had been the first time he came, and he felt several sets of eyes settle on him, but he just pushed through the crowd until Mike caught sight of him, motioning for him to go through the kitchen door. Bucky stepped to the side to allow someone past him, but–

“You’re two-for-two, Barnes.” If she hadn’t grabbed his elbow, her words would’ve been enough to freeze him in place.

Bucky couldn’t help the smirk which pulled at the corner of his mouth, and he looked up at her–the woman of the hour. “Yeah.” She was beautiful, but that word failed to portray just how radiant she really was, especially with a look of happy surprise.

“You came.” She slid her hand down his forearm, but she didn’t link their fingers like he wanted her to. “Dare I hope you did it for me?”

He straightened and gently shook his sleeve from her grasp. He presented his new shirt. “I do have bills to pay,” he murmured. “I’m late, though.”

“Oh my god. You’re just full of surprises.”

“Call it a new leaf,” he said softly.

“Talk later?”

Bucky chuckled. “Tomorrow, remember?” Of their own volition, his fingers brushed her chin, and he ducked behind her. The moment he was on the other side of the kitchen door, Bucky sighed heavily… happily. Her expression had betrayed some kind of pride. If he had just shown up for her little gathering, he was sure she would be pleased, but this brought another reaction, one he hadn’t anticipated.

“You good, brother?” Mike stuck his head back into the kitchen.

“Yeah, sorry. Where can I throw this?” Bucky shucked off his coat.

“Hooks behind the door. Hey, uh–it’s a bit of a mad house right now, so can you help me 86 empties from the tables? Don’t take orders, just send ‘em to the bar. Take a rag with you. Any tips left on the table go into the jar behind the bar, anything handed directly to you is yours. Questions?”

Bucky blinked. “Where do empties go?”

“Glasses in the sink, bottles and cans in that recycle bin. If you think you can handle washing glasses and pressing ‘start’ on the dishwasher, you can attempt to tackle dishes.”

“I can handle that.”

“Oh, uh… you’re gonna get hit on. Comes with the territory. Don’t care if you flirt back, but don’t be a creep, and don’t fuck anyone on-property.”

“I’m not much of a flirt, but noted.”

“So I hear,” Mike chuckled, but he shrugged when Bucky’s eyes widened. “My cousin likes you. And that’s rare, so. I figure you’re a decent dude.”

“Rare how?” Bucky pressed, even as he fished a clean rag from a bin labeled FRESH in red marker.

“I don’t know, man. You should ask her. I got a line forming–you good to stay until bar close?”

“Sure.”

“Great. I hope you don’t live too far. Hard to catch a cab at two am.”

Mike disappeared again into the belly of the busy bar, and Bucky winced. Fuck. By the time they cleaned up and he got himself home, he’d only catch a few hours of shut eye before he had to be up again if he was going to make it to the coffee shop before his rescheduled packing date. What the hell, right? Either way he would’ve stayed up late–the insomnia had been stretching the limits of exhaustion for months, now, and at least she was out there. He had something to prove. He was rare. Rare sort of guys had to earn the designation, and if that was going to be the gig which kept the lights on, he had to make the most of it.

Bucky slung the rag over his shoulder and tugged at his shirt sleeve. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually showed his scars in public. Heck, he rarely walked around without them covered at home, but the bar was way too hot to wear the flannel he had brought over the top, and… well, it was dark, and probably nobody would notice.

“Hey, newbie–” Mike called through the doorway– “can you grab the broom and dustpan? Broken glass near the door.”

“On it!” Bucky looked around the cramped kitchen until he located the scraggly broom with mangled bristles, and hastened out through the crowd to find the spill.

The night progressed with much the same level of chaos; it turned out that a fair number of the patrons were in fact his former students, most of whom had been wrangled there by Sam. None of them knew the guest of honor very well, but his–the woman Bucky very much wanted to be His Girl, that is–mentee mingled through the room with ease. He envied the way she could open herself up to new people, as if they didn’t have one hand behind their back with a hungry knife. Bucky didn’t have any idea what that felt like. To him, new acquaintances were unwelcome unless they had no ulterior motives. Mike seemed alright, but Bucky couldn’t imagine himself becoming close to a guy who owned a whiskey bar–

“Think I could get a refill?” Bucky shrugged off a handsy woman and pointed at the bartender.

“Gotta ask him.”

“Ugh. But you’re right here!” she huffed.

“Candace–it’s not his job. Walk to the bar like a big girl.” Sam appeared at Bucky’s side and gave the woman a knowing look. She rolled her eyes and pushed off the hightop which she had been using to stay aloft.

“Whatever Wilson.” She flipped Sam off, but then a mischievous smile pulled at the corners of her eyes. Sam sighed dramatically and held out his hand for her empty glass.

“The things I’m willing to do for a pretty face,” he mock-whispered to Bucky.

“You never do things for me,” Bucky snorted. Sam narrowed his eyes.

“My suddenly heavier class load disagrees, bud.” Sam nudged him with his elbow. “Your naïveté is cute though, I’ll give you that. Want the same thing, ma’am?”

“Thanks, Sammy.” Candace stroked a finger down the buttons of Sam’s shirt, and the professor winked at her. Bucky put Candace on the list of things to bring up to Sam, along with just how much he had taken onto his plate with Bucky gone, but… that was for later. He followed Sam towards the bar, snagging bottles along the way, only to catch a startled look from Mike. He nodded over Bucky’s shoulder, and held out both hands to receive the empties. Bucky handed them over and whirled around, only to see a huge guy looming over one of his former students. Natalie? Natasha–someone else beat him there, and Bucky’s heart dropped into his feet.

He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he knew that sudden hand-on-hip posture meant Y/n had inserted herself. The man straightened and Bucky launched forward at the same time. He had a lot of people to push through to get to her, all the while watching the man’s face twist in anger.

“--I’ll give you five seconds to get the fuck out of here,” Bucky’s girl growled, just as he reached her side. The moment he realized that the attention of the bar was turning on him, the disruptor turned on his heel and left.

Natasha reached out for Y/n. She was mortified by the attention, even if she was relieved to be rid of the man. Y/n made eye contact with Bucky. Her face lit up. Water? she mouthed. He held up a thumb. Bucky jogged back to the bar, through the crowd which was happy to part for the hustling barback. Without needing to be asked, Mike handed him one water… and an Old Fashioned.

“Thought I wasn’t serving,” Bucky snorted.

“Wouldn’t deny my cousin her drink, would ya?”

No. No, he wouldn’t.

Bucky returned to the table where Natasha and Y/n sat, now surrounded by a passel of concerned women. He silently delivered the water to Natasha, and slid the cocktail in front of Y/n… much to the delight of several women–blessedly none of whom were his former students.

“What a gentleman!” a woman with bright pink lipstick cooed. “I bet you gotta girl who swoons over you.”

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckled, deliberately avoiding eye contact with his girl at all costs.

“Awe, he’s shy!” Another woman said, in a tone which made Bucky bristle.

“You got somebody, honey?” The first woman wrapped her fingers around his left elbow. Bucky flinched, but she didn’t seem to notice. For reasons he couldn’t conjure, Bucky couldn’t force himself to move. He was frozen, like a deer in headlights, under the scrutiny of women old enough to be his mother.

“Leave the poor guy alone,” Y/n said lightly.

“It’s okay,” Bucky coughed. “I do have a girl, ma’am.” Then, he looked up. Y/n could mask her surprised expression. “I don’t know if she swoons, but she sure knows how to bust some balls. I like that about her.”

“Oh, she’s a broad!” one of the women exclaimed, as if that were the highest compliment on this side of the Hudson.

“Is she pretty?”

Bucky scoffed. “Prettiest girl you ever saw.”

The women giggled, including Natasha, who seemed quite relieved to no longer be the center of attention.

“How long you been together?” This time, it was Sam who spoke, and all the blood fled from Bucky’s cheeks. His friend clapped him on the shoulder, effectively trapping him into giving an answer.

“It’s new. I’m trying my best not to fuck it up. Almost did.” He scratched his chin and looked over his shoulder in the hope that Mike would throw him a Hail-Mary–but the bartender just shook his head with a big grin.

“Bring her flowers! My Stan knows that a good apology comes with flowers. It’s a garnish.”

“Huh,” Bucky said. “I don’t know if she’s a flower kinda girl.”

“Pssh. All women are. If you don’t know what she likes, then bring her something small. It’s the effort.”

“Good to know. I gotta get back to work, but uh–thank you, ladies.” He backed out of the small circle, and out of Sam’s teasing grip, but not before he caught Y/n taking a sip from her cocktail. She smiled softly, as if she had greatly enjoyed watching him get grilled by all those gathered. As he turned away, he saw her pull her cell phone from her pocket. A moment later, his back pocket buzzed.

PL: so you got a girl, huh

‘I'm so sorry, it just came out’

PL: you’re cute when you’re flustered. PL: sunflowers are my favorite.

Bucky looked over his shoulder once he was safely concealed in the doorway of the kitchen. Over the heads of rowdy bar patrons, the girl who liked sunflowers smiled at him. Then, she turned back to Natasha, who she had defended from a big creep, and Bucky was overcome with a feeling of pride in her.

It was strange… to feel young and embarrassed, and like the only worries in his life were answering invasive questions from nosy women.

Y/n waited him out until bar close; she nursed a few old fashioneds, while her new acquaintances got progressively drunker, and she dutifully helped pair people up for shared taxis back to campus. Sam departed without much pomp, but with the woman named Candace. For Bucky’s part, he got the hang of running empties back to the kitchen, and putting glasses through the dishwasher, and he thought that he might actually have fun with this job… even if it wasn’t intellectually stimulating. It still forced him to quiet his mind. He couldn’t worry about things outside of his control when he had spills to clean and bathrooms to restock with paper towels.

When the front door locked under Mike’s thumb, Bucky sat at the bar beside a woman who looked exhausted… but happy. She traced over the mottled scar, which peeked out from under his left sleeve, as if revering his skin. With a familiarity which wasn’t forced. Bucky put his shoe up on the footrest of her stool, and their knees pressed against one other. Mike drew no attention to the special privileges granted to his cousin, or to the obvious affection between the two of them. He merely handed Bucky his share of the tips, and then shooed them both out the door.

Once they were outside in the cool evening, Bucky put his hands in his coat pockets. Y/n curled her fingers around his elbow.

“Help me catch a cab?” she whispered, leaning closer to him when a chilly breeze swept down the street.

“I’ll take you home,” he said quickly. “I drove. Didn’t know how late I'd be here.”

She dipped her head so her laugh at his eagerness wouldn’t appear at his expense, but Bucky nudged his shoulder against hers. She peered at him through exhausted eyelids, but she nodded. “I know better than to argue.”

“I’m not sending you home with a serial killer,” Bucky said. He meant it sincerely, but it only made her laugh harder–a sweet, sleepy giggle.

“I already said yes.” She thumbed over her shoulder as if to ask where he had parked. Bucky nodded in the direction of his car (he had lucked out catching a spot just a few blocks away, so he wasn’t far.

They walked slowly. She hummed a bit. Bucky pressed his hand over hers at his elbow. Eventually, she hooked her fingertips with his.

“Mike said something I’ve been wonderin’ about,” he said, as they waited out a turning cab on the corner.

“Shoot.”

“He said it’s rare. For you to talk about anybody to him.”

“Oh boy, he’s giving away all my secrets,” she breathed. “Yeah. It’s true. You gotta be pretty great for me to tell Mike.”

“You told him about me.”

She shrugged. “Everything.”

Bucky switched their postures for the remainder of the walk so his arm was around her shoulders. She sidled her own arm under his jacket, to warm the small of his back. Every once in a while, he brushed his nose against her temple.

The car ride was shorter than Bucky hoped–just fifteen minutes on fairly deserted streets. For once, he wished traffic was bumper-to-bumper, so he had an excuse to sit beside her while the street lights bathed her in a golden glow every thirty feet. But she held his hand over the console, and that was consolation enough.

She directed him to her apartment building, and Bucky pulled up beside the curb. He sat back against his chair. She just watched him. He raised a brow.

“What?”

Y/n shook her head. “Sort of wanna kiss you, but I’ve been drinking. You know how I feel about that.”

Bucky held her hand up to his mouth to cover a grin. “How’d it go with Sam today?”

“Wasn’t much to do. Just choose the final poems and put them in an order which made sense for my thesis.”

“He said it’s a beast.”

She laughed. “Yep. I refused to cut anything.”

“Surprise, surprise.” Bucky studied her face. “I uh. ‘M glad you were there tonight.”

“You were nervous.”

He shrugged. “What the hell do I know about being a barback? Nah. I just… forgot how good it feels to be in a room full of people, doubting myself, only to catch you smilin’ at me.”

She groaned. “If you don’t want me to kiss you, you better cut that out.”

“I mean it, doll. You make me brave. Don’t know why.”

Y/n brushed his jaw with her free hand. “Do you wanna know how many people talked about you tonight?”

He rolled his eyes. “Fuckin’ rumors–”

“No, not like that! Just… how cool it was to see you relaxed.”

“I guess I was.”

“And who this mysterious girl is.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Fuck, I really didn’t handle that well.”

“You were fine. And if people assume, then so what? I’m almost outta there–”

Bucky turned in his chair so he could better look at her. “I was serious about the Dean finding out, doll. Or the board. I–shit. Should’ve dropped you off around the corner–”

“Ooookay. Listen–we’re consenting adults. Yeah? And unless you kiss me in public, it’s all just rumor. I can take a little talk. Besides… it’s not like you’ve asked me to be your girl. You just… hold my hand academically.” She squeezed his hand, which at least warranted a small smile from him.

“Once you’ve graduated,” he whispered.

“Then you’ll ask me?”

Bucky sighed. “Then I’ll stop looking over my shoulder for Stark, and worrying about kissing you–”

She cupped his jaw with both hands and silenced him with thumbs over his lips, so that she could press her own close without giving in to the joy of a real kiss. He felt her huff of frustration not to kiss him for real, and the rub of her thumbs over his bottom lip.

“A kiss is not a commitment,” she said lightly. “What if we just make that how we say goodbye and hello, and that’s all it has to be?”

Bucky folded forward, engulfing her in a tight hug. She turned her nose into his neck, and sighed. He fought the words he wanted to say–because he needed her to hear them, but more than that, he needed to actually say the thing he meant to for once in his life.

“Trouble is: that isn’t enough,” he mumbled into her temple. “Not when it’s you.”

“Bucky…” she breathed.

“I’m tired of doing the right thing. You told me to do something for myself–so here I am.” He rubbed his hands up and down her back, memorizing the texture of her sweater. “I want to kiss you. And when invasive old ladies ask me if I’ve got a gal, I want to point across the table at you. I’m scared shitless. I’m–shit. It doesn’t matter.”

“God, Barnes…” She paused enough to push back, so she could brace her hands on his chest and look him in the eye. “You are so hard on yourself.”

“Yeah,” he huffed. “I’m acutely aware.”

“So, you’re fighting yourself because of Dean Stark? The guy who wears gold goggles for sunglasses?” she giggled. “No–hush. Maybe you’re worth taking the risk for. Huh?”

Bucky straightened, determination thrumming through his body. “Tomorrow.”

“What about it?” She couldn’t stifle a delighted grin.

“I’m gonna kiss you. And it’s going to mean something.”

“Don’t have to convince me, Buck.” She peeked at the time on her phone and winced. “We should be asleep. We have somewhere to be in the morning.”

“Eleven,” he confirmed.

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” She patted his cheek, and slid out of the car before he could break his own promise to wait on that meaningful kiss. Bucky pressed the button to roll down the passenger window. He leaned over the seat.

“Hey!” he called. Y/n turned back to him with raised brows.

“What?”

“You’re gonna get kissed tomorrow.”

“Consider me warned,” she laughed. “Oh!” Y/n fished something out of her bag and jogged back over to the car. She held out her hand to him, with a folded up paper. “This is the only one I didn’t put in. It was ‘too indulgent’, according to Wilson. So.”

She winked, and unlocked her building door. The last thing he saw before it shut again was her fingers waving him off.

He unfolded the note–a poem, of course.

switching hour there was never a lonelier hour than three never a bleaker time never so uneasy a body and yet there never was a falser stretch where intrusive thoughts feel like gospel than three to sunrise.

Indulgent, maybe. Certainly nothing like her other pieces, which focused so much on her inner life, but… it was still special. He could remember the origin clearly–a conversation about a series of hers, based around who she was in the morning vs. the night. He had said to her–early mornings are bleak–something so simple, and watched her eyes sparkle with an idea.

He glanced at the clock on his dashboard. 3:18 am. Hmm. For once… she was wrong. This 3 am had been a turning point.

Bucky drove home in a daze. Alpine mewled at him indignantly when he nudged her off his pillow. He fell asleep, and he didn’t dream. What could his mind make up which was better than reality?

Morning came quickly. Bucky was delirious in his determination, but he managed to stumble into the shower and acceptable clothes, and feed the other woman in his life in her little dish before dashing out to meet her.

He swung open the office door, and there she was. Y/n sat in his leather desk chair, looking out the window across the quad, but she swiveled towards him when she heard the latch slide in the lock.

Bucky had spent years of his life chasing one good rush, and he had never found anything close. Until her. Looking at her then was like watching every failed happiness in his life fall away. He was sleep-deprived, and the cold brew cups sweated in his hands, and he had barely run a comb through his hair, but Bucky still felt like everything was perfect in that moment… especially with a small bouquet of sunflowers tucked under his elbow. He nudged the door shut with the sole of his sneaker. He set the coffee on the desk. Neither of them spoke.

He knelt beside the chair, and handed her the sunflowers. The tissue crinkled as she accepted them. She placed her hand on her forehead in a mock swoon.

One kiss brought her hand to his lips, and then those blessed fingers slid into his hair so she could fully lean forward. She kissed him on the mouth, soft like a whisper. Bucky raised up on his knees to cash in a third, and she hummed–she moaned. He knew very little in the grand scheme of things, but it was certain that he wanted her. He didn’t know if he deserved her, but that seemed to be irrelevant because their lips fit. And her fingers wound into his hair, scrubbed at his scalp, tugged him back to her the moment he seemed in danger of stopping.

As such, neither of them heard the knock, or the door opening, until heavy knuckles rapped on the doorframe. Y/n pulled away from Bucky with a start, fingers clasped over her lips, while Bucky cleared his throat.

He looked up into the face of Dean Stark.

Part 3

tag list: @peterhollandkait @honeywithemoney @nahthanks @emmabarnes @dracris33 @dracosluvbot @searchf0rtheskyline @cjand10

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #professor bucky #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

169 notes · View notes

charliedawn · 4 years ago

Text

Marvel x Chubbyreader imagine

Imagine going shopping and one of the employees/customers bodyshaming you.

You find a cute dress and try it on. You get out of the dressing room and Tony's awestruck expression is enough for you to beam with pride.

" What do you think ?"

For once, Tony remains silent and only takes out his credit card as an answer.

" I'm buying this dress, and there's nothing you can do about it."

You giggle, but then someone's nasty comment makes it's way in your ear.

" Look at all that fat, it even moves when she laughs. It's disgusting. Nobody wants to see that.."

Tony stops dead in his tracks and turns towards the man with a fake smile before simply stating.

" You're fired."

The employee only laughs mockingly before replying confidently.

" I don't even work for you."

But, Tony walks to him and stares right at him with a death stare.

" I don't care, a**h*le. I buy the shop, thereby I become your boss and fire you. Now, get out of my sight before I pulverize your a**."

The employee doesn't say anything else and just walks away, not before glancing one last time at you with hatred. Tony wraps his arm around you defensively until he is definitely gone. However, the damage has been done and you finally utter weakly.

" M..Maybe I should just put the dress back.."

But, Tony doesn't let go and whispers in your ear in an hungry tone.

" Don't you dare.."

He then pays for the dress and as soon as you're in the car, he kisses you with such passion that it takes your breath away.

" Home ?"

You ask and he nods before replying in agreement.

" Home."

You already knew that Bucky was handsome..But, that didn't mean that it hurt less when people made comments about it. You spot a beautiful dress and the employee quickly takes out the dress with a huge smile.

" Here you go ! I'm sure you'll be perfect in it !"

You smile happily and nod before entering the dressing room. However, you don't even have to time to get out that you hear the same employee talking to one of the other customers.

" Oh my God ! Did you see that ?! It's a shame to let oneself go this far ! They look like a freaking mammoth in a dress. If she is like this..I can only imagine the man accompanying her !"

You don't dare get out as they start laughing together. You feel tears in your eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. However, the door of your dressing room opens and Bucky gets in, worried since you seemed to be taking a long time. The moment his eyes land on you, he finds you gorgeous in the dress and promises himself to buy it. But then, he sees you face and crouches in front of you with a worried expression.

" What happened ?"

You don't have to answer as the employee outside makes her voice heard again.

" Are you finished, miss ? Or do you have some trouble putting it on ? Do you want a bigger size ?"

He automatically understands and clenches his jaw, glaring at the door before looking back at you with a small smile.

" Did you hear that doll ? Sounded like a death wish to me.."

He takes your hand and kicks the door open, shocking the woman that falls on her butt and looks up at the you with a glare, not noticing Bucky standing behind you.

" Watch where you're going, you big ugly..!"

She doesn't have the time to finish her sentence as Bucky steps out and crouches in front of her to take her by the jaw harshly.

" Next time you even look at her with anything else than admiration or respect, I will make sure that you can't look at all..Understood ?"

The woman only nods in agreement and Bucky stands up, satisfied. He takes you by the waist and leaves the shop after having paid for the dress. You arrive in the parking and Bucky opens the door of his car for you.

" Now, let's go dancing..Okay ?"

Bucky asks and, when you don't answer, he turns around to see you with a frown on your face.

" Are you sure we should still go on that date ? People will still look at us and I think it would maybe be better if..Mmmmppphhh !"

You don't have the time to finish your sentence that he pins you to a nearby wall and kisses you with his hand wrapped around your throat.

" Now, I will only accept two answers from you. Dancing or kissing ? Your choice."

You smile and kiss him hungrily again. Looks like the choice is made.

" Yuck..Look at those stretch marks. They should go cover all of that up.."

Sam can't believe what he is hearing and looks at the man with anger radiating from him. You want to say that it's fine, but Sam doesn't give up and glares at the man while trying to remain calm.

" Man, shut the hell up. She is perfect in every way and there is nothing, absolutely nothing, wrong with having tiger stripes. It just means that if you were in the wild, they would be the one surving.."

You have tears in your eyes at his beautiful metaphor, but the man only laughs mockingly while eyeing you up and down.

" If the tiger is as slow and overfed as this one, won't be a problem outrunning it.."

Sam walks towards the employee and stands just in front of him before replying.

" That's where you're wrong..because this tiger is always accompanied by a falcon that will not hesitate before ripping the eyes of its prey.."

He doesn't understand until Sam punches him straight in the nose. The man whimpers in pain on the floor while Sam doesn't wait before grabbing your hand and stepping over the whimpering man.

" Come on, tiger..Let's go home.."

Vision was clearly excited when you asked him if he wanted to go shopping with you. He was starting to worry about you as you hadn't come out of your room for a while. When you both arrive, your eyes immediately see a very interesting dress that you want to try automatically. It calls you and you drag Vision along as he looks at you with a wide smile, happy to see you so happy. You take the dress and try it on. However, when you get out, you didn't plan on another person being there.

" Oh my God ! You're going to damage the dress ! Take it off !"

The man nearly shrieks and Vision frowns up at the man.

" What do you mean ? You think the dress isn't a good fit ?"

The man sneers in disdain before lookin at you with clear disgust written all over his features.

" No..SHE's not a good fit for the dress.."

Vision's eyes widen perceptibly and you can see his fingers digging into the arms of the chair. However, he still succeeds in remaining calm and answers with cold smile.

" Oh, I see..Apologies my good sir, I thought you were just mistaking, but I can see now that you're just a moron."

The man is shocked and gapes at the insult like a fish out of water.

" What did you call me ?!"

He finally shouts in indignation, but Vision, far from being intimidated, only continues to smile falsely before repeating.

" A moron. Should I repeat it again, sir ? Are you perhaps deaf ?"

The man becomes as red as a tomato and wants to slap Vision that only takes a step to the side. In an instant, he restrains the man on the floor and, in his usual polite smile, says.

" Now, the lady here is doing her best to manage her insecurities. It took weeks for me to reassure her that she is perfectly fine, and you ? You just destroyed all of my efforts with one sentence."

He is about to break the man's arm when you gently run your hand on his back soothingly. He seems to remember where he is and gets up in an instant. He then takes you by the hand to pay for the dress and get out of the shop. You wait until you are in the parking lot before stopping and making him look at you. He seems as upset as you and you try to calm him down by gently kissing him on the lips.

" Sorry..He just was so mean to you and I.."

You kiss him again and he finally melts into the kiss.

" Never say sorry for acting heroically..You acted amazing out there.."

He smiles proudly before picking you up.

" Vision ! What are you doing ?!"

You exclaim before he answers with a small smile.

" I'm taking my wife home."

He then takes back his original form and flies up in the air.

" Miss, I need you to step out of the dress. There is the scale on your right, we don't accept anything outside of size Medium in here."

You are about to reply when Scott suddenly stands up and glares at the salesman.

" No one. Tells. My. Wife. That. She. Looks. Fat."

Scott would normally go with the pacifist approach, but when it comes to directly insulting you about the thing that you're most insecure about ? Get prepared for full-on mad Scott. He will make a scene. He will physically attack the employee. It will take you to physically restrain him from scratching the man too much. He will ask to talk to his boss and will not go without a sincere apology. Don't mess with angry Scott.

" Get up ! Come on ! I'm not finished with you !"

He wouldn't say anything because you told him that you didn't want him to kill anyone again. But give him the chance ? And he would take the man's tongue and cut it so he may never speak again.

" Come on, let's go, Loki..The dress is not that important anyway.."

You take his hand and try to gently guide him outside of the dressing lounge. But, the employee adds before you could avoid any more problems.

" Yeah..The dress would be wasted on you anyway.."

This is the last straw. He turns towards the man with a dagger in hand and threatens him by putting it against his throat.

" One more word, and I will skin you like the pitiful human scum that you are ! Now, address one more time to my future wife with this sort of disgusting behavior, and your may find a thousand snakes hidden in your bed."

You drag him outside, grabbing your clothes and paying quickly. Loki frowns, upset at the fact that you didn't let him finish. You run out and it's only when you're in the car that you turn towards Loki with tears in your eyes.

" Loki. One more complaint and they will throw you in a cell again. Is that really what you want ?! Don't make idiots the reason we are separated again.."

He understands your concern and gently strokes your cheek with his thumb before kissing your forehead.

" Never..I just don't like how people treat you around here. It's so unusual. In Asgard, we don't care about the size, we care about how a woman fights. Here, you are called weak by strangers, and when you try to defend yourself, you are blamed. It just doesn't make any sense.."

You laugh at his perplexity before answering him with a kiss on the cheek.

" Never change, Loki.."

Sometimes, when you're alone like this, Loki seems almost innocent. He hasn't been shaped to understand human flaws, he even has trouble understanding why. But, this is why you love him.

" Hey, fata**! Move out of the way ! You are blocking my view !"

A customer yells at you as you just got out of the dressing room. She tries to get in, but Stephen only arks an eyebrow and uses his time stone on her.

" W..Where..?"

She stammers and Stephen quickly answers.

" You are in my realm. I was just checking if you are relevant in any dimension or time-line..Guess what ? You are not. I could send you to another planet and nobody would come looking for you. Now, do I make myself clear when I say to never speak so rudely to anyone again, and especially not her ?"

The woman nods her head vividly and Stephen smiles before making them both come back to reality. The customer looks shocked for a moment, but she only humphs and walks away. You look at him with an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

" Stephen..What did you do ?"

You ask, but he only smiles innocently at you.

" Nothing, dear. Just had to get some things done..By the way, this dress is lovely. I'll pay for it."

You quickly nod and get back in the dressing room. However, you can't seem to be able to open the back zip and finally ask for Stephen's help. He wants to act casual, but is still nervous when you ask for his help..He still enters and pulls the zip down, marveling on the exposed skin of your back in the process. He slowly runs his fingers up and down your back before kissing your neck shortly and getting out. You still smile. At least, you had your approval on the dress..

The moment you enter, everybody stares at you, Thor had insisted on coming with you in his mighty armor and you just knew it would attract many eyes..and the comments didn't take long to arrive..

" Did you see that ?! How did she manage to pull him off ?! I mean..Why her ?! It's surprising."

You hide behind Thor in shame and he quickly notices why. He approaches the man and leans in front of him with a fake smile.

" Is it though ?"

The employee seems taken aback and takes a moment to answer.

" What ?"

" Surprising ? Is it normal for humans to act in such a way when they have flaws themselves ? I mean, your brain is the size of a poptart, and you don't see me complaining about it now, do I ? I don't think you're even worthy of gazing upon her. She's a queen. A woman who has been by my side from the beginning to the end and who never left my side, even when death was upon us. Would you have done the same ? What are you compared to her ?"

Both you and the employee are shocked by Thor's words and he then takes you by the waist to kiss you in front of everyone, even going as far as squeezing your hips. You blush vividly, but he then takes a step back and looks around before shouting for everyone to hear while pointing you with his index.

" This is my woman ! She is just the way I want her and if everyone has a problem with that, he can come and talk to me !"

That quickly shuts everyone up and he then takes your hand, having spotted a very gorgeous red dress that he just knows would look good on you..or off you. 😏😂

Thor can be very confused about many human things, but he knows when something is wrong with his human and will do everything to make you feel better.

He wouldn't say anything, but as soon as your home..He would take his arrows and bow.

" Where are you going ?"

" Out."

He would simply reply and you already know that if you let him go, the employee will be psychologically scarred for the rest of his life..You post yourself in front of the door and refuse to let him pass.

" Come on, darling. Move. I just wanna talk to him..I just wanna talk to him.."

He would try to reassure you, but then, he would remember how ashamed you seemed when buying said dress. His mindset completely shifts to murderous mode as he tries to get past you.

" I just wanna kill him..I just wanna kill him.."

You wrap your arms around his waist and refuse to move.

" Come on ! You're stronger than this, my love ! Don't do it !"

He finally sighs in defeat before nodding in agreement. However, he takes you by the arms for you to get up and gently kisses you.

" I would do anything for you..Okay ?"

You smile and nod, knowing that he means it.

" I know.."

" Hey there.."

You try to ignore the woman openly flirting with your boyfriend, but it's hard when she whispers something in his ear. Something that makes him cross his arms and frown.

" I'm sorry ?"

He says, apparently confused and the woman only giggles before wrapping her arms around his arm.

" You heard me cutie, come with me and leave the pig behind.."

You nearly choke on your own saliva as she repeats high enough for you to hear..You turn around and see an angry Steve that suddenly gets up and glares down at the woman.

" Oh no..You misunderstood. I was genuinely sorry for the fact that no amount of make-up will ever be able to cover your mean heart. Now, leave us Regina George, before I decide to make you leave."

The woman's eyes widen and she turns around with a loud dramatic humph. In an instant, Steve is by your side and covers your face with kisses.

" Don't listen to her. She isn't worth it..And her perfume was just horrible, I need to wash it off when we get home."

You smile with tears in your eyes, reassured and extremely grateful for having such a perfect man in your life..

" Wait..How do you know Mean Girls ?"

You suddenly inquire as you remember that the movie only got out a few years ago..He smiles before blushing almost embarrassingly. He then admits while massaging the back of his neck with his hand nervously.

" I decided to culture myself..And I also heard Hawkeye talk about how his girl has been going crazy over that movie..So, I decided to check it out.."

Your eyes widen at the information and you smile almost mischievously.

" This is actually very "unlike" you, Rogers..Listening on doors..Are you turning to the Dark Side of the Force ?"

He looks back at you with an arked eyebrow, visibly confused and you sigh loudly.

" Oh come on ! Star Wars ! Don't tell me you've watched Mean Girls but never heard about Star Wars ! "

He only shrugs and you suddenly take him by the arm to drag him towards the exit.

" B..But the dress ?!"

He exclaims and you only reply with a slight grin.

" The dress can wait. We've got other very important matters to intend to !"

He suddenly gets out of your grip to run to get the dress and pay for it before coming back to you. He then grabs your hand with a huge smile.

" Now, we can go."

#fandoms #imagine #marvel #scott lang #scott lang x reader #captain america x reader #iron man x reader #vision x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #hawkeye x reader #thor x reader #loki x reader #doctor strange x reader

723 notes · View notes

ceilingfan5 · 3 years ago

Note

Casual affections: 15, please? thank u!

(washing hair) yall remember this one?

“Pink, huh?” Kravitz scoops hair dye onto Taako’s long hair and carefully slides it through. It smells funny, kind of like bubblegum flavored toilet cleaner, and it’s stained his gloves good and proper. “You know I got my cosmetology license out of the bottom of this box, yeah?”

Taako snorts, looking particularly silly with the towel clothespinned around his shoulders and his hair full of goo.

“It’s gonna be fine. It- It’s gonna be great, even. I needed a change, and this is a change, and it’ll feel- good. And different.” He sounds like he’s reassuring himself more than Kravitz, and Kravitz kind of has to give him credit there. He’s always been kind of shit at self-soothing.

“Yeah,” Kravitz says softly, pulling the dye all the way to the ends of Taako’s bleached hair. He tugs softly, kind of fondly. “It’s gonna be alright, Taako.”

Taako sighs, shaking a little, and Kravitz finishes putting the hair dye in in silence. He wraps it up and slips on the shitty disposable plastic shower cap to give it time to process. He carefully slips off his bright pink sweet-nasty gloves and snaps them like a surgeon that just got done carving up a fairy-thing, joining the three whole boxes of hair dye in the now very full bathroom trash can.

And finally, he can’t stand it anymore.

“Taako, why are you here? We both know you can afford a proper dye job from the best stylists in the country. And it’s been a year. I- I thought you moved on to...bigger and brighter things.”

Taako’s shoulders try to swallow him up and almost choke on his bones.

“I, um,” he chews his lip in a way that makes it look like it’s going to come right off. “I- Maybe, um, maybe I should start with...I’m sorry?”

“Couldn’t hurt.” Kravitz leans against the counter and folds his arms. Taako stares at the fluffy bathroom rug.

“Well. I am. I’m- Krav, I’m so fucking sorry. You know that, right? I- I never meant for things to get this bad, but they did--it was just one thing after another-- I thought the job would be a good idea, and I was so scared of long distance and I got prickly-”

“That’s one word for it.”

“And- and I thought it would be easier to rip off the bandaid than lose you slow-”

“Taako, you know-”

“I know! I know you would have been good to me even from a thousand miles away, okay? But I was scared, and stupid, and my head was full of cotton candy and bees, and it turns out bees can’t fucking live on cotton candy and it’s just a bunch of sticky dead bees up there now, and-” Taako chokes back a sob, and Kravitz sighs. He reaches out and takes Taako’s hands.

“So tell me about the job. How’s showbiz?”

“It’s-” Taako laughs, a harsh sound that doesn’t quite feel right. “It’s not exactly what I expected, Krav, there’s- there’s a lot of pressure, and I know that sounds fucking stupid, like, everybody wants to be a star, like, I should be so lucky, but-”

“But it’s gotten hard again, yeah?” Kravitz squeezes his hands gently, and Taako’s lip wobbles.

“Maybe.”

“I saw your nails.”

“Fuck your falcon eyes.” Taako shakes his head, smiling a little.

“And after this, I’m making you dinner. A proper one.”

“Krav...”

“Listen,” Kravitz says, firm, but emotional. “I know how you get when you’re stressed. I have eyes. And I know how that interview probably went. They poked too far, and you got defensive, and let out too much, and panicked, right?”

Taako is very quiet.

Kravitz aches for him. He shouldn’t step back in time like this. That open wound hurts too much to poke at it. But just because they broke up and Kravitz’s heart shattered into little pieces doesn’t mean he wishes Taako ill. They could still be friends. He was the one who tried (desperately) to keep things going, but Taako got scared, and he clammed up and isolated himself. And to a certain point, with him all the way across the country, there wasn’t much Kravitz could do to push that stupid boundary.

“Taako...” Kravitz checks a strand of his hair, and decides to process it a little longer. “You know I don’t hate you, right?”

Taako cries.

“You should,” he manages to get out, between big painful sobs. “You should hate me. I deserve it. I fucked everything up.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t. End of story.”

And he holds Taako, hoping not too much dye gets on his bathrobe, until it’s time to wash his hair out.

It’s tricky to position things, Taako’s head in the bathtub, Kravitz beside him with the shower head hose, but Kravitz shampoos his hair and scrubs it good, watching in silence as the pink circles the drain like Barbie Psycho. Taako sighs as he massages his scalp, doesn’t say a word as Kravitz rinses with just-warm-enough water over and over until it runs as clear as the box stuff can. It’s intimate, and gentle, and familiar, and it hurts and heals and it sets a bone neither of them realized was still broken.

Quietly, Kravitz pulls him up and wraps Taako’s hair up in one of his shitty towels, drying his face as tenderly as he can allow himself to. Taako fluters still-wet eyelashes and sniffles, and Kravitz, again, as always, like it was yesterday instead of a year ago, gets lost in his beautiful eyes.

“You don’t have to-”

“No,” Kravitz says, barely a whisper. “I don’t.” He leans closer, but at the last second, he kisses Taako’s forehead instead of his lips. Even so, it feels terribly, sorrowfully natural. How quickly things unchange.

“You can sleep on the couch, after you eat something,” he adds, to break the silence, to shatter that look in Taako’s eyes hurting for something he threw away. “I’ll get you some blankets.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” And Taako gets up, and he heads to the kitchen. Kravitz follows him, but not until after he’s looked at his pink-stained hands for a long, long time.

#taakitz #taakitz fic #taz #tazb #the adventure zone balance #the adventure zone #fan5fics #let me tell you #tumblrs search function is bullshit. i looked for that old fic for like an hour #jesus #anyway i made myself sad about them #they miss each other gang

84 notes · View notes

potato-with-hair · 3 years ago

Text

Fake News

First tumblr Story Ever

As the newest Avenger it seemed that Tony Stark and Captain Rogers were more than comfortable sending you out on all of the shit missions, granted, you could use the time in with your new teammates to learn their little quirks and start working to meld your abilities with theirs so that you could start working together seamlessly, but it was getting ridiculous. You were half expecting to start getting told to go out and help the NYFD rescue kittens from trees and helping the NYPD direct traffic on Broadway in Manhattan during rush hour. Y/N was a technopath, which was a fancy name for someone who could control technology and anything mechanical with their mind, or if you wanted to be technical about it, according to the official S.H.I.E.L.D. dossier:

Y/L/N, Y/N: Main Ability: Technology Manipulation

User can manipulate technology, the sum of techniques, skills, methods, and

processes used in the production of goods or services or in the accomplishment

of objectives. However, most users only can exert control over technological

constructs, such as computers, robots, hardware, and other devices that can be

termed as "technology", in any way. Manifested as a special form of electrical/telekinetic manipulation, a special form of "morphing" which allows physical interaction with machines, or even a psychic ability that allows mental interface with computer data.

Also Called:

· Cyberkinesis

· Cyberpathy

· Mechanokinesis

· Technokinesis

· Technopathy

Pretty cool, huh? Anyway, spring was coming to a close and summer was just around the corner. Tony asked me and Sam Wilson, you may know him as Falcon, to head to midtown

Manhattan because there were some “unsavory” characters hanging around Grand Central Station.

Turns out it was some low-level HYDRA minions that were basically trying to see what kind of trouble they could cause, they had planted a pipe bomb in a waste bin in the middle of the station and it was a Friday when thousands of people would be traveling through the station heading to and from work and school. I think that HYDRA was more or less just testing us Avengers out to what abilities we had and see if there are any hidden capabilities we possessed before they come at us for a full-scale attack.

Sam and I arrived and were able to find the pipe bomb relatively quickly, part of my ability is being able to read the signatures of different technologies and mechanics, and if you don’t think that a bomb countdown timer throws out a red flag, you are mistaken. Anyway, we found it, and rather than call bomb and arson with New York’s Finest, I was able to manipulate the mechanics myself using my mind. I shut down the detonator without ever touching the bomb and made the whole thing inactive within a few minutes time.

Easy peasy, 10 minutes, another fast sweep which took an additional 30 minutes, and Sam and I were finished and ready for our close-ups from the media that always, inevitably followed. We had a small group of media that always showed up whenever a call went out that an Avenger was “working” and there was almost always a small fan base at Grand Central or where ever we were working who would come up to thank us, like we were some sort of rock stars, and as per usual some of the younger men and women took the opportunity to do some flirting with us. Tony told us, unattached Avengers, that any publicity and light flirting and playfulness with the fans was good publicity and would help for the public to relate to us and see us in a positive light. I am not going to lie, I may or may not have had a little thing for our resident speedy Sokovian, but our little flirting in the compound never seemed to go beyond that, flirting. I thought there was a possibility he liked me also, but, so far, nothing. Although I did catch him staring at me quite often and Wanda and some of the guys were always talking to him and then immediately looking in her direction like they were just discussing her. Pietro did seem to always try to be around me and sit near me as often as possible as well. Also when the “fans” would flirt with him, I noticed he never really showed much interest in them, always watching to see what I was doing.

Oh well, time to spend a little time with the crowd before Sam and I headed back to the compound. The New York Times was talking to some travelers about the pipe bomb that was found in the wastebasket and what their thoughts were and how they felt about us being there to “save the day, yet again” when an overzealous “fan” started to get a little handsy with me in the background. He had followed me around and asked me to dinner a few times, flashing cash and his business card a few times, trying to press it into my hand multiple times. I explained I was really bust and thanked him but said I was not interested or available, but he kept perusing me. He was leaning over my shoulder with his hand around my waist from behind, body pulled directly flush with my back and he was in an excited state if you know what I mean, and he was whispering in my ear about some of his fantasies and things that he has dreamt of doing to me. Of course, the camera flashed right as he started to kiss my neck and I had a smile on my face because I was focusing on a sweet 10 year old in front of me asking for my autograph and telling me I was her favorite avenger. If the camera had waited all of 5 seconds more, they would have caught me performing a minor assault on the prick and another 5 seconds would have caught Sam pulling me off of him and flying us out of the station and back to the compound with his hand over my mouth because I let lose a string of explicative’s that would put Wade Wilson to shame.

The next morning I woke up and took a shower, went down to the kitchen and made my normal toast and juice and bowl of fruit, and could not help notice that the Avengers that were there were looking at me strangely, I thought it was because I was still in a sour mood because of that jerk from yesterday and the icky feeling he gave me that I was assaulted by scum. I knew that Rogers, Wanda, Sam, and Nat were on their way to Lagos on a mission. Thor and Banner were MIA since Sokovia, which left Stark, Rhodey, Vision, Pietro and I still here.

“Y/N, so, how was the pipe bomb incident yesterday?” Tony asked seemingly hinting at something

“Uneventful aside from a slight annoyance in the crowd, is there coffee left?” Y/N responded looking at him while rising to get a mug and pour a hot mug to clear the remaining sleep from my head.

“Nothing happened? Nobody special you want to tell us about?” Rhodey chimes in.

“Not that I am aware of or worth mentioning now that it’s done and over with, is there something you would like to tell me about?” Y/N asks looking back and forth to them. “Hey, where’s Speedy, he’s usually down here eating everything that isn’t trying to eat him first.”

Tony looks at Y/N and smirks, “It is strange that you should mention that, he came in about 20 minutes ago, I assume you were in the shower or I am sure you would have heard him, saw the cover of the New York Times, flipped out and, well, here you are, please take a look, we are on pins and needles to know what you think. And I hope you know that all suitors must meet the full team before you becoming an “item” and pass Avenger inspection, and Rogers is particularly tough.” He slid the paper across the kitchen island to where you sat, both he and Rhodey watching your face for a reaction. You unfolded the paper confused and looked at the front cover.

There in black and white at you was a close up of the stranger with his arms around your waist from behind, you leaning slightly forward smiling and the stranger kissing your neck, the little girl you were smiling at was covered by the person being interviewed in the foreground. To someone who was not there and did not know the story, this definitely looked bad, like a very intimate moment caught on film, the headline read ‘Newest Avenger Moving Fast With New York Wall Street Trader’ the article went on to talk about how you just met the guy and did not bother to get his name, but just let him put the moves on you, yadda, yadda, yadda. Apparently, after Sam got you out of there, the “gentleman: in question decided to make a name for himself and gave a short interview making it sound like you approached him and started the whole flirt fest, lead him on, and then abandoned him, with the promise to return. You looked at Tony and Rhodey with wide eyes and a sick feeling in your stomach, “This is the biggest load of shit I have ever read in my life, this is not anything at all what happened. About 3 seconds after this picture was snapped, I basically slapped the taste out of his mouth and would have continued to do so had Sam not gotten me out of there. Flirting? More like this guy assaulted me. This was not consensual or wanted. I told him multiple times I was not interested and refused his advances and invitations to dinner and he kept bothering me. I was talking to a little kid and he pulled this crap when I had my back turned to him.”

Tony went from joking to serious almost instantly, “Okay, we were just going to bust your balls on this a little bit, but this has just become a non-joke. I’ll have Pepper contact someone in Stark Industries legal department to get in touch with the paper to track this guy down, he’ll have had to sign a waiver for publication and we’re going to go after him for liable and harassment. If he tries to come after you for battery for the assault, well, we’ll call that defense, Avenger or not, no one gets to touch you without permission. Y/n we really didn’t know, we were just going to play around with you about this a little, and we had no idea. He didn’t do any weird stuff, right?”

“NO, I mean, I slapped him and Sam pulled me off of him and flew me out of there, anything beyond what he did to me and you would have been getting a call from New York’s finest about bail or my court hearing for homicide. I was shocked, but if it had gone beyond what it was, I would have raged a lot harder than I did. The headline in the paper would have read a lot differently today.” Y/N responded.

“Alright, I know that yesterday was weird and I know that Nat and Wanda have had to deal with crap like this from time to time, unfortunately being an attractive woman on the team seems to let the guys out there think that it is open season to treat you ladies like meat. It is unfair and it sucks and if any of the men on the team are around just say the word and well step in and make sure the guys know it’s not okay, or step back and let you take care of it yourself, whatever you feel more comfortable with. In the meantime, take the weekend off and go to a spa or go shopping or to the movies or whatever you need to do to feel better, charge everything to Stark okay. Just let us know if you need anything alright.” Tony hugged you with one arm and kissed the top of your head. “One thing though, Lightning Legs. He flipped out when he saw this. He thought it was true and got hot and bothered. I would suggest finding him and letting him know what is really going on because the last thing you need right now is a crazy Sokovian kid acting like a jealous boyfriend right now.”

You look us at Tony and across the island to Rhodey, “What is that all about, what is he flipping out about, he brags about all the women he is into and dated back in Sokovia all the time, what does he care about what happens to me?”

“Y/N are you serious? That kid has been crazy in love with you since Sokovia. I swear I was coming close to sending you both on a mission that involved a tropical island and a case of rum soon. If he’s not staring at you, you are staring at him. It’s sickening.” Tony finished with a sarcastic eye roll. Go relax in your room, we'll take care of this. Just try to put it from your mind and well talk soon. With that, you left and headed to the elevator bank to the sleeping quarters level, feeling shitty, but better because you knew Tony would do what he could to help.

You were only in your Bedroom Suite for about half an hour when there was a somewhat frantic knocking at your door. You got up from your bed, put down the book you were currently reading, and made your way to the door, opening it, you found a seemingly tormented Pietro, he entered your quarters without an invitation and started to pace the length of your room, looking at you, Y/N could tell he needed to speak, but he was not sure where or how to start.

“Y/N, I ……. The newspaper, I saw the picture and…… Who is he? Do you like him? I mean does he make you happy? I want you to be happy……… I know that no one will ever be able to………. Not like I do………” Pietro kept starting and stopping sentences, never actually completing any, and getting agitated. You had never seen him this disconcerted before, he was always so unruffled when he would flirt with you before and this was a whole new side to him that you had never seen before. It was like he was unsure of himself and it was not something he was sure of how to process. You walked towards where Pietro was walking seemingly carrying on an argument with himself and reached out for his hands.

“Pietro, please stop, okay, please. It is not what you think, I don’t know that guy. It was fake, it was false, I don’t know him, I did not ask for that, I did not tell him it was okay to touch me or kiss me like that, I was not alright with that, He did that without my permission, and the photographer took a picture and they wrote some fake story to make it seem like I was into it. I did not want that. I don’t know him, I feel disgusted by that.” You start to rub your neck where the creep kissed you, sat down on the plush cushioned ottoman bench at the foot of your bed and start to curl into yourself to make yourself as small as possible as Pietro looks at you taking in your words.

“Wait, moja bohyňa (my goddess,) some guy you do not know came up to you and started to touch you and kiss you without your permission? No, I will not allow this, who is this man; I will go fight him right now. Žiadny odpadok sa nemôže dotknúť mojej bohyne bez jej súhlasu. Nikomu by nemalo byť dovolené pozerať sa na ňu bez toho, aby sa poďakoval bohom, že bola stvorená. (No trash can touch my goddess without her consent. No man should ever be allowed to look on her, without thanking the gods that she was created.) Are you okay?” He sat on the bench next to you giving you plenty of space, not wanting to crowd you. “I will kill this man, why would he think he could touch you, Bohyňa (Goddess,) if I had been there, I would have stopped him immediately, I am so sorry I was not there with you. “ Pietro sat staring forward with a look of disappointment in himself. You leaned over towards him putting your head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around you pulling you into him. You snuggled your face into his chest drawing designs on his stomach and chest with your finger as he kissed your head and held you close.

“Tony is going to get the Legal department of Stark Industries to look into the paper and find out who the guy is and get him charged with harassment, and I may or may not have given him a good slap as soon as I got over my shock and realized what was happening, so I figure I should let the cops know everything in case he decided to try to press charges later for battery saying I attacked him. But I promise Pietro, there is absolutely nothing at all going on with that guy or any other guy in my life because I was sort of waiting for someone I had a sort of thing for to maybe make a move, but I didn’t think that he was interested, so I had basically given up hope and just accepted that we would only be friends, and that was okay, but I really was hoping he would let me know he felt the same.” You continued tracing symbols on Pietro's chest with her fingers nervously

Pietro put his hand gently under Y/Ns chin and raised her face so that his clear blue eyes were looking directly into Y/N/E/C, “Do I know this guy?” He asked finally deciding to go with the advice the rest of the team when they told him that Y/N was definitely into him, and Wanda assured him that yes, Y/N thought about him often and was only too nervous to make the first move, but if Pietro would, she would be receptive.

Y/N looks from Pietro's eyes to his lips and back to his eyes again and states “I am sure you have seen him around here, sometimes he’s hard to spot because he’s pretty fast, but when he stops or slows down and doesn’t try so hard to impress everyone he’s really an amazing guy. I have to say to, he is sexy as hell too, and he has this accent when he talks, uggghhh, it does things to me.” Y/N just smiles at him teasingly.

Pietro chuckles and smiling leans in but says softly before he kisses you, “Prednesiem vám básne a texty, ak ma chcete počuť hovoriť, poviem vám všetky veci, ktoré chcem s vami a s vami urobiť, ale nikdy vám nebudem môcť vyjadriť, ako veľmi vás milujem a uctievam. Teraz si môj, ako ja tvoj, navždy. (I will recite you poetry and lyrics if you want to hear me speak, I will tell you all the things I want to do to you and with you, but I will never be able to express to you, how much I love and worship you. You are mine now as I am your, forever.)” He then lays the softest and most soul-baring kiss on Y/N that she has ever felt. It was as if all the passions in the world could have been transferred to her through that kiss and as he softly caresses her face while peppering gentle kisses on her face, Y/N thinks that maybe this stupid picture is not the worst thing in the world to ever happen to her if it is what FINALLY brought her and Pietro together, she figures if nothing else, this will be a brilliant story to tell their kids someday.

Slovakian substituted for Sokovian

Y/N = Your Name

Y/L/N = Your Last Name

Y/N/E/C = Your Eye Color

#pietro marvel #pietro x reader #pietro x you #pietro x y/n #pietro maximoff #pietro fluff #Pietro jealous #slight dubcon #fluff

51 notes · View notes

fanfiction-inc · 3 years ago

Text

“It Takes Two to Win a Race.” Chapter II

[Previous Chapter] / [Next Chapter]

Verse: Falcon And The Winter Soldier / Captain America And The Winter Soldier / Captain America: Civil War/ Marvel Alternate Universe

Characters/Pairings: Baron Zemo/ Reader, Baron Zemo/ Female Reader, John Walker

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8971

Warnings/Tags: Drinking, smut, m/f, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex, Google translated translations, Walker is an asshole and just keeps getting worse.

Summary: Baron Helmut Zemo, world renowned racer and your sworn enemy on the track. You two have been going at it for years now, but now you two must join forces to fight back against John Walker, a new up and coming racer who is proving to beat both of you. Will you two survive the other or meet your demise on the track?

Ao3 Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32606833/chapters/81176392?view_adult=true

This is a mess. An absolute, blazing mess that sits before you in the middle of your workshop. The chassis was dented all to Hell, a new one having to be rebuilt and delivered to fix your custom car. The engine had parts missing that were left at the crash sight when it was towed away. One car to your name, and it was fucked up. Maybe you should have taken Stark’s sponsorship and invested in a backup. Sitting on the cement floor of the workshop, screwdriver in hand as you pry out bits and pieces of parts from the engine, taking note of the parts and working on the budget you had set out for this year's series of races, you dreaded the moment you’d see the total cost. This repair would take a nice chunk, but you still had money left over after to make sure your car was at its best. That was the thing about working with your car, it was just you and this beast of metal and speed, working as one to reach the end of the line. The screwdriver is set down at your side when you struggled too long on getting the broken interconnecting rod that links the turbine from the compressor, a sigh following as you sit back. A slow sense of dread fills you as you look at the broken parts scattering the ground, the missing parts on your list, and the purple paint that still streaks the busted carbon fiber chassis.

Working with Zemo was a dangerous game, which you recognized even before you shook on the arrangement he had proposed. He was wicked on the course, predictable at times but at others a ticking time bomb of what his next move may be. He was dangerous, but that is what made him damn good. He took far more risk than you usually would when it came to advancement in the race. Where you held back, he pushed forward. No wonder the man infuriated you. But this plan was the only thing you had to get things back to normal, back to the way they were where you hated Zemo with a passion and fought tooth and nail to stay better than him. You would never admit it, but without your rival, what fun was the race? See, it's not only the thrill of the chase between the driver and death, inching closer and closer with each hairpin turn and the risk of the other driver's moves. No, it’s also the thrill of having someone who wants to win just as bad as you, who is just as good and will do anything to try and progress further than you. It sets a standard, something to surpass, something to stay on level ground with when you catch yourself falling. Zemo was your equal, no matter how much you hated him. And equals like you two don’t have room for a third party to jump in and surpass. The game isn’t any fun when someone fucks with the rules. He had a point when it came to beating Walker down, especially since the man was already fighting you both with molotov cocktails and rocket fire in the form of playing dirty on the track. He was bringing a war to a battle just to see if he could come out on top. Despite everything telling you to stay away from Zemo and not get involved in this scheme, that it could end badly for one or both of you, you couldn’t stand the idea of having Walker walk all over you like some doormat. You couldn’t let him walk in as if he owned the place and could rule as he pleased.

He needed a reality check.

Your form pops and cracks as you stand, stiff from sitting on the solid ground and stretching to relieve your body of the tension. Everything felt so wrong, and you knew you had to make it right...But was this the right way to do it? “Jesus, you sound like that rice cereal with the little elves. You know, snap, crackle, and pop?” You laugh lightly when your friend comes into the workshop, food in hand and dressed down from the usual luxury attire he wore when visiting. No suit and tie in sight, just the oil stained wife beater you had seen him in when pursuing your education in the states as he worked tirelessly on his little toys as you liked to call them. He sets the bag down, the scent of the food causing your stomach to growl and pinch with a hint of pain. Have you really forgotten to eat today? You hadn’t noticed. “Got your favorite. Do you know how hard it is to find a restaurant that speaks English? I had to have Friday translate for me.”

“Maybe you should take a new hobby and learn the French language.” You retorted with a grin, the man shaking his head as he sets everything out. “Maybe I want you as my teacher, but you’re always busy with driving around in your fast little car and getting famous for fighting a Sokovian asshole.”

“And you’re too busy tinkering away with your toys in your little workshop in New York. Truly Tony, don’t tell me you actually want me as your teacher when your toys can teach you for me.” You pause as he rolled his eyes, watching the man for a brief moment as he turned to unwrap his burger. “Speaking of said Sokovian connard, he came to the bar I was at last night.” The man paused mid bite on the thick patty before speaking with his mouth full. “Okay, spill, what did he want?”

“Well originally I thought he was going to cuss me and try to blame me for the failure to complete the race yesterday, but he showed me something. You know the young man who won the race yesterday, corriger? John Walker?”

“Yeah, I know the guy. Races for the American McLaren team and came straight from F3 to F1. What’d he do?”

He raises a brow when you sigh, taking a seat beside him on the desk he had set the food down on and stealing the dish he had brought you. “Zemo showed me proof that Walker hit his car and sent him flying into mine. And I believe he did it on purpose.” You explain, taking a bite of the food your companion got for you. You pause for a moment to chew before returning to your theory. “On my way to the car bay, he smirked at me, and it wasn’t a “I won” smirk- well, it kinda was, but it was rather a “I did this to you” kind of smirk. Not necessarily an evil one but one that showed he knew exactly what he had done and was proud of it. Pride in an unfair act.”

“And no flags were thrown up?”

“Non, not a one. As our friend the Baron said,” you cringe at the term friend, “the ones watching the race possibly couldn’t tell if he had done such on purpose or by accident. I believe him about such. And I suppose that brings me to what I’m about to say next.” You take a breath, gaze conflicted and downcast to your food as you speak. “The Baron offered a temporary truce of our rivalry to take down this John Walker, thus allowing us to return to what we do best after Walker is taken down.” He listened intently before his nose scrunched at the idea of such. You two working together? Ha! That’d never work! “And you said yes to this crazy idea? What the Hell are you thinking, (first name)?” Your hands shoot up in defense, gaze rising to meet his own. “I know, I know! It’s a crazy idea, but you know as well as I do that if Zemo and I want things back to normal, back to the rivalry, we have to do this together so Walker is met with further resistance. If I could avoid it and deal with this American scum, no offense, then I would.”

“Some taken, but I get it. I just wonder if you two will go back to the way things are after all of this. Who knows, maybe you’ll become that dreaded word you hate to associate with him in any capacity-”

“Ne t'avise pas de le dire, Anthony.”

“Friendssss.” He draws it out, causing you to roll your eyes at his antics and slap his arm with the back of your grimey hand. He pretended to show a hurt expression before chuckling when another slap came, this time to his chest. “Oh hush, we will never be friends.”

“I guess time will tell.” A shrug followed as Stark finished the last bite of his burger, crumbling the wrapper and lining up the shot with the waste bin in the corner. “He shoots,” the paper lands in the bin, his arms going up in the air. “He scores!”

“Stop goofing around, ma amie. I asked for your help with this and now I need it.”

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

Three weeks have passed, and the Germany race is upon you. The Nürburgring, a beast of a track that many racers to this day in Formula 1 fear like a plague sweeping the track. Your mind has been racing as you pieced your car back together and got it ready for racing. What happens if something wasn’t installed in the engine right? What if you didn’t get the intake vents lined up just right? You were a perfectionist with your car, and you know deep down that it was ready for race day but it made your head sing with pain as a migraine sets in. That wasn’t the only thing that made it throb and bring you to lean against the chassis of your car. Zemo’s deal, it worried you sick. But you didn’t have time to think about it much today. You couldn’t dwell on it. You had a race to win.

Your eyes flick up at the speakers, listening to the message. It was press conference time. You take your seat where your name tag and flag set, giving a nod of acknowledgement to the crowd of reporters sitting and waiting to open up questioning. To your left, Walker seats himself with a boyish, charming smile that didn’t quite meet those dark eyes. He looked your way, hand held out to you. “Hey, I hate that we didn’t get to meet earlier on. I’m John Walker.” You glance at his hand before looking back up at him. He played a good game, acting innocent like the boy scout he tried to be. You wouldn’t fall for his games, but you shook his hand briefly. “(First name) (Last name).” He grinned. “Oh, I know who you are. I’ve been watching you race for years now! I hate that you crashed a couple weeks ago, would have loved to have been standing on that podium with you.”

“Oui, such a shame that was. But today is a new day, Mr. Walker.” Your gaze flickered to your right, startled by your rival taking his seat and looking directly at the pair of you. The Baron never sat beside you, even going as far as to request a seat change from the press conference coordinators. Some learned to keep you two separate, others knew it would incur drama, and drama made money.

“Alright everyone, please take your seats and the conference will begin in one moment!”

“Say, did you get your car all fixed up? Must have cost a pretty penny since you don’t have any sponsors.” Walker continued on, this time his gaze looking at the reporters as he gave a brief wave to the ones he recognized from the states. “Oui.” He gave a huff of a laugh. “Not much of a talker, are you?” You wanted to bite back, to say something and throw hands with this man, but you would be escorted out and disqualified in a snap. “Non.” A leg bumped yours under the table and you glance at Zemo who met your gaze briefly. Those dark brown eyes questioned if you were okay, a silent question that only you understood. The slightest nod was sent his way before looking at the reporters who got things settled and ready.

“Questions are now open-” The announcer was startled with the amount of questions directed in the direction of you three, clearing his throat as he nodded to your little trio at the table. Mr. Walker!” He gestured to the reporter, watching him stand and adjust his microphone and camera. “Mr. Walker, this question is open to the three of you. Under allegations from the previous race at The Circuit Paul Ricard, many are wondering if you had caused the accident involving Zemo and (Last name). How do you feel about these accusations?” The man had the audacity to laugh and throw that boyish smile to the camera, rubbing at his face. “Look, that was not supposed to happen once so ever. As many of my fellow racers can attest, one wrong slip of the hand on your wheel and your car will eventually go off track. I got nervous, twitched, and just so happened to bump the Baron’s car into Ms. (Last name)’s car. I feel terrible, I truly do, but it could have happened to anyone with any driver. So I refute these accusations and continue to say this is an accident.”

“And you, Baron, Ms. (Last name). How do you feel about the accusations?” The reporter gestured his question to you two now. “I respect your opinion, Mr. Walker,” Zemo began, the man smiling and sending a nod his way. “But I call, as the Americans say, bullshit.” His smile fell, darkened gaze questioning the man on what the Hell he was going on about. The reporters erupted in questioning, trying to get the attention of the two racers who stare each other down around you. You lean back a bit for them to have a better view-line, One of the American reporters calling your name. You use this moment to break the tension. “Oui?”

“Do you believe you stand a chance as a woman against these two leading men now that John Walker is starting to gain points and nearing your total?” You blink at his question before taking a deep breath, holding it to calm your throbbing head, and releasing it slowly. “Oui, I do. I believe I can keep up just as well as any racer. Take my racing career with Zemo. I have kept up with his old extrémité arrière.” The French reporters in the room resound in a fit of chuckles, bringing a smile to your face. “And against Walker?” You meet his gaze as he stares at you expectantly for an answer, forcing that smile he tried to use on you earlier. “I believe I stand quite a good chance, but que le meilleur coureur gagne.” You shrug, listening as the smaller drivers get asked their questions. The whole time there are eyes burning into the left side of your head, waiting until the racers are dismissed. Walker watches you as you walk out, watching the way Zemo comes up in tow as you make your way to the car bay. Something was up, and he could feel that there were clearly doubts in your mind about the accident in France. He would just have to deal with you later. “(First name), wait!” Zemo followed you into the bay, slowing from his jog to keep up with you to a stop near the desk holding your notes about the race and your vehicle. “I haven’t had a chance to talk with you in person since the bar.” He paused, looking into those eyes of yours that gaze at him curiously. “Are you ready for this, fräulein?”

“Aussi prêt que possible, Baron.” You busy yourself with inspecting your car for any last minute changes, the man watching you as you inspect and work. “Good, good. And we are still a go, yes?”

“Oui, we are still, as you said, a go.” He grinned at you, gaze flickering down your back as he looked over your uniform. Of course he had noticed you in all aspects before, talent and skill being the top, but never had he been this close like the night at the bar and now to really see you. Maybe after all of this, even with the rivalry, you could be friends, dare he say anything more than such. “You’re staring.” You quip, breaking him from his trance to meet your gaze. The faintest hint of color lingered on your cheeks. He coughed, trying to clear away the embarrassment lingering in his form. Why was he getting embarrassed? “Just thinking about what will be left behind when I pass you on the track, mein liebe.” Your eye roll doesn’t go unnoticed, the man relaxing due to how calm you are around him. No biting his head off, no anger, just chill. You stand and give a playful shove to his shoulder, smiling at the Sokovian. “In your dreams, Sokovian. Now, get the fuck out of my car bay.” He smiled to himself as he walked away, mind now clouded by the smile that lingered on your lips. He liked when you smiled, and he had to make sure this plan worked.

The race was gearing up to start, the same process as before coming into play. Car, balaclava, wheel. You take your moment to breathe, today your speed has placed you in second, just as the plan entailed. Zemo took the first position. He glanced your way, sending a nod in your direction, only to smirk beneath the balaclava when you flip him off like usual. The rivalry was still on, no matter what he would still have that after dealing with Walker. Still have you in one sense or another. Your glance focused in on the man across the way in the pole position opposite of you, his eyes locked on the two of you before meeting your gaze. There he stares you down, even as his helmet slipped on. The visor was flipped down at the one minute warning, eliminating the final clarifying view of his gaze. It was clear he was cautious of you, maybe even lingering with hate.

“Fahrer! Starten...sie ihre....Motoren!

That familiar purr settles into your chest, spreading through your body like a dam breaking and flooding the valley below. It stirs up the motivation to win once more, removing any doubt from your mind as you rev your engine. Zemo was right, Walker had to be stopped. With this attitude about racing, playing his little mind games and wrecking racers, he’d get someone killed just for first place. You couldn’t allow that...but you also couldn’t allow the rivalry you have established with Zemo to be broken because of someone else. There was too much there to be lost. Your fingers tighten around the wheel, licking your lips beneath the helmet as you prepare yourself for takeoff. The lights start counting down the race. Five seconds away, one green and two red lights. You watch them count down until the bottom lines of red are fully lit, then they flash off. You’re off, following Zemo right on the tail of his car as you start into the track. This track was a beast, your mind racing as it remembers every nook and cranny of it. Seventy three corners, eleven danger points, hair pin turns, all on a 12.8 mile long course that was deadly in the onset of any weather and people who get careless with their moves. Lucky enough, the sky was only overcast. No rain, little wind to interfere with the aerodynamics and mobility of the chassis, just the perfect chill in the air to remind you where you were in this moment. You take your turns with ease, avoiding the group of cars that began to follow suit on the track behind your own. Your eyes remained locked in on every shift to your side, Walker keeping close by within each turn and danger point you went through.

As you drive, Walker gets up past you within one of the speed trap areas, the stretch of road allowing him to be up beside Zemo and leave you on the back of their tires. Zemo had a plan, you believed in this plan… but had he just been toying with you to get closer to Walker? Doubt clouded your mind, even as you sped up in an attempt to join the boys directly in the front. Perhaps you shouldn’t have followed this plan, even as you get through the first twenty five laps, then the next twenty five. Each turn brought your tyres closer to Walkers who eyed you cautiously from time to time, as if silently daring you to pull a move like he did. Maybe you’d be caught and black flagged. Hell, that would make his fucking day if that happened. As he watched you, he had failed to notice on the wider strip of the track how Zemo began to drift further and further ahead. Then he was side tracked, Zemo slowing abruptly and stealing the attention of the young American driver. “What the Hell!?” He yelled over the roar of multiple motors, watching your car join Zemo’s side and the original speed be resumed. Now you sat beside Zemo on the track, pedal to the floorboard as you two kept your lead and basically walled Walker in. Each time he tried to drift around, one of you would shift your car just enough to keep him locked in. A grin met your lips as you drove, the energy of the race taking a whole new shift as you got closer and closer to the last lap with your rival right at your side. Tips of the chassis lined up perfectly, rear aerodynamic fins aligned like a well oiled machine. You two were in perfect sync as you put Zemo’s plan into action. Create a wall of impenetrable magnitude. If Walker tried anything, all three of you would go down. If he tried to get around, he would be blocked. There was no getting out from behind you two.

The checkered flag waved in the quickly approaching distance, your gaze for a moment looking at your rival. The blur of purple was steady, lined with yours like that of an air jet's flight coordination. Perfectly straight, and running at full throttle like you are. As your cars pass the finish line, debate begins to rise. It was too close in the end to call, at least not right away. You slow, allowing the purple beast to pass by and enter the pit before you, a silent gesture of courtesy to the man you worked with. He sent a small nod your way when he watched you get out of your car, helmet removed along with his balaclava and revealing the joyful grin resting on his lips. Anyone else would mistaken it for cockiness, but the look in his eyes said it all. You two did it, you beat Walker in the race! He must be furious! A breath is held on your end, helmet and the fabric covering your face discarded as you turn your gaze away from the arriving racers and the man you drove along with. You were locked in on that score board, curiosity eating at you for who may have won the race. You were neck in neck with the man, the smallest push forward could earn either of you the points for the day. No names shown yet, and you anxiously leaned on the hot surface of the carbon fiber vehicle as you waited. Each noise around you from the slow dwindle of engines to low, fading purrs to the pit crews of your respective teams surrounding you, your rival, and the newcomer were drowned out by the pounding of your heart as it flooded your ear drums. It felt like hours passed as you kept your gaze locked on, ignoring the happy clamour of your crew, the clasp of hands on your shoulder and pats on your back, even down to the ruffling of your hair in glee. Then it flashed up.

1st: (First initial). (Last name)

1st: H. Zemo

2nd: J. Walker

The press goes crazy over the news, each respective country reporting their amazement over the finishing results.

“Ein fehlerfreier, aber überraschender Sieg für Baron Helmut Zemo, der mit (First name) (Last name) gleichauf den ersten Platz belegt!”

“Victoire pour la championne de France (First name) (Last name) alors qu'elle rejoint le Baron Helmut Zemo dans une rare égalité!”

“In a remarkable and truly unprecedented event in The Nürburgring F1 race! Baron Helmet Zemo and (First name) (Last name) tied in a photo finish for first place, a rare occurrence that has set back American racer John Walker from the potential for first place!”

Your breath comes out shaky, slowly slipping out as reality hits you like a wrecking ball to a brick wall. The air leaves your lungs as a happy noise rings out from your lips, joining your crew in the celebration as they hug and surround you. You placed first. Zemo placed first. Curiosity met you, your gaze looking to the man who celebrated with his own crew before allowing himself a chance to settle his gaze on you in turn. There he sent a wink, a silent congratulations that made you shake your head at his antics before refocusing on the celebration. You would be standing with the man in first place on that podium, both sharing the victory wreath and spraying champagne all over the crowd of fans and your respective pit crews who were basking in the glory just as much as you two were. You couldn’t help the glee bubbling up in your form, even as you make your way not too far from your rival. For a second, just a split second, you let the rivalry go and let your smile be seen in accompaniment with his gleeful grin, shoulders bumping when you’re positioned at the podium by the F1 management crew. Press swarm to the area like flies to a summer barbecue, wanting to catch a glimpse of the rivals standing together, being on the podium and sharing first place. “Not so bad working with my, as you put it earlier, old extrémité arrière, hm?” He questioned as you two stood together, the closeness you two were forced into for the photographers far more comfortable than it would have been under any other circumstances. He blamed the feelings he had at this moment on the victory over Walker, over the rest of the racers, not even thinking that perhaps this was beyond the fact that he won but that you, his favorite rival, won alongside him. “Non, not the worst.” You joked lightly, forcing a serious face for the cameras when they began to picture you two side by side on the first place stand. He accepted the bottle of champagne before you could, holding it out. “You may have the honor, (First name).” Your fingers brush his own as you grasp the bottle with him, popping the cork and sending the bubbly to decorate the crowd. Flash after flash met you as you stood alongside Zemo and basked in the glory of the win. “How about drinks to celebrate? Even as rivals, I believe a drink wouldn’t hurt.” He whispered the question, causing your gaze to lock on his own in brief surprise. Was he serious!? “I um..Oui, sure. Meet you in town?” He nods, gaze seeming to glimmer ever so brighter as he takes his leave. Even when you separate to get cleaned of the alcohol and switch to “civilian clothing”, your smile doesn’t falter. Maybe it would be good for you to drink the night away with company that didn’t seem as bad as you once had thought before.

As you begin to peel away the racing suit, the flame resistant material bunching at your waist and revealing the open expanses of your back, the simplistic bra strap over the back the only material seen, you fail to hear the seething man enter your car bay. “Do you know what you just did, Ms. (Last name)? Who you fucked with?” Walker puts his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around to face him, his face inches away from yours. “You went and fucked with the wrong man. You could have just accepted your loss, licked your wounds, and we would have been just fine. But oh no, you had to go and fuck with my winning streak with that Sokovian piece of shit.” He huffed when you shove him back, gaze narrowed and arms crossing over your bra covered chest out of annoyance. You could care less what he saw. “I don’t see why you’re so mad, Mr. Walker. You got a taste of your own medicine after that stunt you pulled back in France. You and I both know that was no accident.”

“You know what? Yeah, I did that. But I see you are working with Zemo now, which is also a big no-no in Formula 1. Seems we’re both sinners of the race. The greed of it.” His tone was a hushed, harsh whisper. There was no need to alert anyone that he was in your private quarters harassing you. “I’m nothing like you.” Your tone came out in a hiss, his downturned lips curving up into a grin at your response. “Oh sweetheart, I beg to differ.” He chuckled at the narrowed gaze he was met with. “You and your Sokovian boy toy need to back off. Let this happen like it should or you’ll not like what happens next.”

“And just what do you think you’ll do, John? Because all I’m hearing right now is a lot of talking with no proof of any big execution.” Your lazy grin and scoff of annoyance at his presence left him to raise his hands in mock defeat, hands coming to rest on your shoulders once more with a harsh grip that made your body tense and hold you there. He leaned in, even as you tried to lean away, his lips moving in close near your ear. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” His tone alone makes your body betray you, the calm, cool, and collected front slipping as a shiver ran up your spine at his warning. And with that, he leaves you to get dressed for the night.

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

Zemo texts you an address for a bar off the beaten path in Cologne, Germany, further than you had anticipated in going from the track but a welcomed change of scenery. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” The words stick with you, even as you drive the main road into the big city, looking for the bar Zemo had invited you to. It was connected to a hotel, a fancy hotel at that, with old architecture and lavish exterior. You could only imagine the interior! A nervous breath is taken as you get out of the car, gaze meeting the man you had just won with. He smiled at you, clothing casual and the air around him feeling far more comforting now than ever. The incident with Walker had left you rattled, sending your nerve endings to buzz and let your body know that you aren’t okay. Even though you felt off, you force a smile to the man who wrapped a friendly arm around your shoulders and led you in to sit at the quiet bar. “So, did I not tell you the plan would work?”

“I just thought it was your cockiness talking, but I will admit, though it physically pains me to do so…” You pause, biting your lip. “Well?” You sigh. “You were right.” The words come out struggled and forced, the man's grin growing at such. “Ah~, I don’t believe I caught that.” “Oh va te faire foutre!” He chuckled at your words, hand raised towards the bartender to get you drinks. “What are you ordering?”

“Shots. We deserve something to toast our victory to, and I don’t believe champagne is your drink of choice.” He offered you one of the smaller glasses, his own raised before him as he locks those bright brown eyes with your own. “Ein Prost! To us, and our victory over John Walker. May that American schwein taste defeat again.” You raise your glass, hoping to drink away any thoughts about Walker's warning and leave it for the next day. Throwing caution to the wind, you decided right then and there that you would finally have fun and disregard the night that you sat across from your rival. Tonight you just wanted to drink. “À la vôtre!” The drink is bitter as it hits your throat and travels down your body, causing a warmth to spread soon after. Kuemmerling, a bitter concoction of herbaceous and bittersweet flavors. A drink of choice for Zemo it seemed because soon after the shots were downed, he ordered another round.

Shot after shot after shot is taken down until your body is leaning against his own and a joke that is shaky at best from his part sends you into a roar of laughter. He holds you close, laughing right along with you. “So... It’s Barenjar?” He snorts at your piss poor pronunciation of the new liquor joining the mix, shaking his head at you as he looks on with drunken vision. “Nien, nien, Bärenjäger. Say it with me. Bä-”

“Bä-”

“Ren-”

“Jäger!”

“Mick Jagger?”

He laughs in defeat, shaking his head as he watched you. So relaxed, so calm. He hasn’t seen you like this before in his life. He’s startled by your sudden movements after downing your last shot for the night, catching you as you try to stand and stumble as your feet betray you. Your body landing against his, his arms slotting themselves around your waist as your drunken gaze catches his own. Those brown eyes of his are hypnotizing, keeping your gaze locked on his own. “I have something to confess, (First name).” He paused to wet his lips, trying to piece the words together in his hazy mind. “I have liked you since the day I met you.” He finally blurts out, fingers moving up to brush away a stray strand of hair that had fallen into your eyes. “You’re infuriating, yet calming. Stubborn and determined. Your smile is lovely and those eyes…” He trails off, leaving your hazy mind questioning what was going to come after, but you hardly have time to think about it as he pressed in closer, face inches from your own. The smell of Bärenjäger and Kuemmerling lingered on his breath as it fanned over your face, those brown eyes searching for something in your own. “Can you feel it, the connection we have? Can you see that we are not just rivals now?” His tone was just barely above a whisper, questioning you with a hint of desperation to his tone.

“Oui.”

That was the only answer he needed. His lips are on yours with fever and desperation, hands clinging to your form for dear life after hearing the words that sent him to fully fall into the feeling of you. You were his comfort, the one constant thing in his life. His rival...but right now you were the woman he sloppily kissed at the hotel bar as the bartender tried to catch his attention to tell you that you both were cut off for the night. His hands moved to grip at your thigh and tangle in your hair, abandoning the idea of holding anything back, the liquor giving him courage to make a move on you. He has wanted to do this for years, touch you, feel you, have you there with him in any way he could. He separated only when the threat of security was offered by the bartender, lips kiss swollen and a faint pant falling from them. “Come.” His hand takes hold of yours, leading you along to the lift and up to his room for the night. This hotel that he called home for the time being would serve well for what he had in mind to do to you. He led you inside, not even waiting for the door to close as he captured your lips once more, hands taking your rear in his grasp and hoisting you up so your legs wrapped around him, back pressed up against the closest wall he could find. He held you there, lips separating to begin trailing hungry kisses down the column of your throat and allow his hands to trace along your sides. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel the bare skin there, wanting what he has longed for since the day he met you. A noise fell from your lips as he lazily suckled a mark over your pulse point, your fingers tangling into his dark hair and tugging the locks when his hips grounded against your own. He couldn’t help the fire blooming in his body, needy for the creature that has teased him for all these years, The one he thought he would never have a chance with because of their hate for each other on the track. He needed you, and in your current state, you were willing to accept any touch he offered. He was just Helmut Zemo tonight. Not your rival, not the Baron, just Helmut. And you were his (First name).

A groan left his lips when you pulled him by his hair away from your neck, hands working to take your shirt up and over your head. Throwing it aside, he looked at you with a gaze of admiration. It was similar to the gaze he gave when looking at the new modifications to his car, taking pride in the beauty of things that drove him to win. He dampens his lips, fingers lazily dragging up the expanses of your back from bottom to top, resting on the clasp of the garment covering your breast. “Darf ich?” Your nod was all he needed, the clasp undone with skilled fingers that knew precision, holding still on your back when your arms rose to take the garment and throw it in an unknown direction to be forgotten about for the time being. He wasted no time with taking one of your breasts in hand, fingers running over the sensitive bud of one while he took the other in his mouth, suckling and lavishing with his tongue. He took his time, drunken yet slowly sobering mind savoring each and every noise that fell from your lips as he toyed with your body. You’re barely into foreplay and he already has your panties soaked, the Baron being a creature that knows exactly what buttons to push to get you going without even knowing your body. He was skilled, that much was for sure in your mind as he switched to the other breast, paying equal attention to each. Those brown eyes of his don’t leave your face for a second, watching every reaction and trying to commit them to memory. If he could only have you tonight, he wanted to remember everything he possibly could. Every detail of your body, everything that drew a hitched breath or a low moan from your lips. Every shaky breath and the way your body would press closer to his greedy mouth and hand. He stored it all away. Maybe he’d wake up the next day and fancy this a pleasant dream...It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten worked up by thinking about you.

His hand traveled downward, cupping your sex through your pants as his own grinds up against your thigh, straining through the fabric of his pants. He ached for you, for your heated skin to be pressed against his own in a delicious rut of bodies. He traced along the seam, hearing the low whine that fell from your lips as he teased you through the material. “Helmut, stop for a moment.” The man paused all actions, his gaze shifted to a worried state as he met your eyes and spoke with concern. “Are you alright, mein liebling?”

“Oui.” Your fingers trace his jaw, the man's face briefly pressing in against your palm before delivering a soft kiss to the area. A tender gesture that sent butterflies to flutter in your stomach and heart to speed further than the foreplay had already caused. “I just...Take me to the bedroom. Please?” You preferred not being right beside the door where anyone could listen in, where anyone could hold a camera up to the peephole and record the sexual pleasures of the infamous Wildcard and Baron. That would make a top headline, wouldn’t it? He gave a chuckle at your demand, nodding as he kept his grip on you, your legs wrapping just a hint tighter around him as he moved you both to the bedroom. He’s gentle with setting you down, looking down at you when you unwrap your arms and legs from his form. “Scheiße, du bist perfekt.” He slowly worked on the buttons of his shirt, working each plastic piece through the loop with fingers that were known for precision on the course. A shift in his steering, taking hold of the semi-automatic paddle-shifters as he drove, it was all well calculated and that applied on and off the track. His shirt is shrugged off his shoulders, thrown aside before focusing on the belt on his pants. He gets it off with what can only be deemed a darkening gaze, knowing he’s getting closer and closer to having you. You rose to let your hands trail his chest, roaming over the lean muscle that rested there as feather light kisses met his collarbone. A shiver met his spine, shooting up in bliss as he allowed a moment to savor the feeling of you touching his skin. Your skin was so warm, so inviting. He was getting lost in everything.

Your fingers shift down his torso, trailing his abdomen before looping in the belt loops of his pants to pull him forward, a low growl falling from his lips when you place a kiss above the waistline of his pants. Your movements were confident, unzipping his trousers and tugging them down to reveal the tent hidden behind his underwear. He swallowed thickly as he kicked his pants off, watching your every move as you cup him through the thin fabric, thumb moving to brush over the leaking tip and cause a shaky breath to leave him. “Maus-” A groan leaves his lips when a jerk through the fabric is given, his head falling back briefly. He huffed when you repeated the motion, fingers anxious to wrap around his bare flesh and feel that hot skin in the palm of your hand. But he stops you, hand wrapping around your own and bringing it to his lips once more. “Tonight is not about me, maus.” You’re surprised when the man placed his hand on your chest, lightly pushing you back to lay on the bed as he slowly sank down onto his knees, ”Es geht nur um dich.’ His lips drag slowly across your skin, trailing light kisses and nips along your abdomen and resting at the waist of your pants. He glanced up, a silent question of courtesy offered your way as his fingers loop in the band, asking permission like a proper gentleman. “Go ahead.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, his presence making you feel like you’re floating higher and higher on this ride with him. He gave a tug, your rear lifting and back arching to aid the man as he pulled your pants down and let them fall to join the scattered articles around the room. You’d have to go on a damn scavenger hunt just to find your clothes! But none of that mattered now, not when his hot breath is fanning over your needy core and face nuzzling at your thighs. He placed a kiss to your inner thigh before another followed, then another as he began to trail inward towards your covered core. “Aufgeregt?” He purred in questioning, a low rumble of a chuckle coming from deep within his chest spilling out at the small nod he is met with, loving how he has left you damn near speechless just by being so close. Your hips jump back before he gets a grip on them, his tongue moving over the wet fabric and causing a light whine to spill from your lips. “Helmut, please.” Oh, hearing you speak his name only egged him on further, needing you. He needed to taste you, to feel you. He needed you in every way, and his drunken mind only pushed him on to pull the fabric away from your legs and stare at the glory that is you. So wet, so beautiful. He wasted no more time, bringing your legs to hook over his shoulders and delved into the intoxicating honey pot he had been offered. He started off slowly, a long lap from entrance to clit given before the motion was repeated just to hear the noise that left your lips with each swipe. Zemo was mapping you out, taking note of what areas made your thighs twitch and tense, what areas made your hips jump back at the sensitivity of his touch, and what made those oh so delicious noises spill from your mouth.

He allows his tongue to focus in on your clit, flicking the bundle of nerves in a rhythm that sends your head to spin and moan after moan to spill from your lips. “Merde!” He smirked against your core when your hand shot down to tangle in his locks, needing stability after he took your clit between his lips and suckled. He repeats the motion, gaze locked on your own and watching the sudden shock of the feeling run through your body. You were so reactive, and just for him. A lazy lick is given to the sensitive bundle of nerves, watching your hips jerk lightly and seeing the tremble that began to settle into your thighs. “Close?” He questioned as if he was questioning about an everyday thing, totally not giving the impression he was getting you close to orgasm just with that sinful tongue and lips of his. O-Oui.” Your tone was shaky, breathy, eyes half lidded and watching his every move on you. “Gut.” A gasp fell from your lips when he sank a digit into your hot, needy core, arching along the way and searching for the sweet spot deep within. He wasn’t like the inexperienced boys who would just jab their fingers into their partner and hope it hits something. No, his fingers curled, probed, dragged and felt for that spot in a way that showed his experience. A second digit is added not too long after the first, probing the flesh within until he hears your moan and finds that spot that drives you to clamp your thighs around his head. A groan left his lips at the rush of slick is met with each probe, massaging that spot within you and only adding to the tension building in your core. Each throb he was met with only spurred him on. He was on a mission to bring you over the edge, and he would do anything to get you off. When his mouth returned to your still sensitive clit, tongue flicking of the bundle and including the occasional suckle while his fingers moved deep within, you were done for. A rough tug is given to his hair as your body convulses, thighs clamping around him and grinding your hips down against his eager tongue. He helps you ride out your orgasm, lapping at your clit until you give a light shove to his head to make him stop. A wicked smile crosses his features as he gives one final suckle, a squeak leaving your lips at the motion and shoving him back as much as your trembling body allows. He can only chuckle at the attempt, fingers removing from your throbbing core. He watched your gaze land on him when you caught sight of the digits, watching the man move his glance to them as if he was inspecting them before a quiet whimper left your lips when they were taken one by one into his mouth. He made it a show, teasing you as he cleaned each digit of your juices in a slow motion. Sinking down to the knuckle before returning and licking at whatever was left. “Tease.” You huffed, chest rising and falling steadily with your hammering heart. “Oh you know you like it.” He retorted, lazily letting his body climb up and over yours on the plush mattress.

He pushed the final material separating you from him away, throwing the underwear away before letting himself settle in against your body. Zemo wasted no time in wrapping your legs around his waist, lips joining yours as he lined up with you, one hand taking hold of your hip while the other took hold of your hair, tugging it back enough to have access to your neck. As he begins to ease himself within you, his lips attach at a section of your neck, a harsh mark left in his wake as he sinks inch by inch within the lightly pulsing core that he toyed with before. A groan was left against your skin when he was fully settled, grip rough on your hip but movements gentle as he waited for you to adjust. He was no animal, not cruel! He knew that there was a possibility for pain if he moved too soon, and even in his drunken haze he recognized the look in your eyes, the slight twinge of pain from his size alone. The stretch wasn’t unpleasant, no, but it was an intrusion you weren’t quite used to when normally doing this. He lightly placed kisses to sooth you along the mark he left, trailing them up the underside of your chin, going along your jaw before soon connecting with your lips in a soft kiss. Something to distract you until you were ready for him to move. A shift of your hips was given when you tested the feeling of him in you, the moan that left your lips causing a low growl to fall from his own. He lifted his body to loom over yours, hand moving from your hair to cup a breast as he sets a slow, deep and even borderline sensual pace within your core. Slowly out until the tip stayed just barely in before plunging deeply into your warm, wet depths. He huffed with each push of his cock within your core, meeting your moans with a faint groan here or a soft growl there when your walls gripped him just right. He was losing composure with each faint twitch of your walls around him, pace beginning to pick up into a steady rhythm that developed the noise of slick skin hitting skin and the bed beneath to creak ever so slightly with each movement. “Verdammt!” He could tell how your walls began to tighten around him, how each noise leaving your lips grew louder and louder. His poor neighbors, hearing you both so vividly through the walls of the hotel. Yet he didn’t care who heard. As long as they knew that in this moment, you were his to take, that was all that mattered. Zemo moved his thumb to your clit, working the bundle along with the assault he laid on your sensitive spot deep within. Each clamp around him brought his own release to come closer and closer. “Cum for me, maus.” He demanded with a grunt, needing to feel you come undone to reach his own release. His words hit somewhere deep in you, the demand that was laced with a plea driving you to your second orgasm of the night. He groaned as he felt you clamp around him, the sensation alone causing him to remove himself from you and spill onto your stomach with a few quick pumps of his hand along his slick coated member. He pants, taking in the sight of you one final time for the time being. Messy, slickened by your own arousal and sweat. Your hair was messed up, your lips parted and panting. To add the cherry on top, you were coated in his release, a sight for sore eyes while you lay like this. He made you like this, and it swells his drunken ego.

Slowly he eased down to lay at your side, bringing you in against him with an almost delicate kiss delivered to your temple. Your breathing slowly evened out, head resting against his chest as his fingers trail along your back, drawing imaginary patterns as his mind begins to blank. The alcohol was taking effect, causing him to enter a lull and for his eyes to flutter shut. As you lay there, catching your breath, you watch as he drifts away, a single question beginning to enter your sobering mind.

“What have I done?”

Tag List: @darksxder | @mymagicsuitcase | @mischief-siriusly-managed | @alindeluce

#Baron zemo #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #racing au #daniel brühl #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #zemo x you #baron zemo x reader #john walker #john walker is STILL an asshole #multichapter story #chapter 2 #“It Takes Two to Win a Race.” Chapter II

67 notes · View notes

buckys-other-punk · 4 years ago

Text

Hold on..THIS IS YOU?!

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Request: where she is a fanfic writer and Sebastian stumbles upon her blog and messaged her as well not letting her know who he was but being an open person she is as to who she was, sending pictures and all, and until one day, decides to meet with her and she is surprised that it was the one she was writing for?

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: fluff, sarcasm (of course) and cussing? i think that’s all

A/N: Hello my lovelies. I am sorry I haven’t been posting as much, but that’s usually how I roll..no jk I legit had no time to write because of my classes this semester, so if this sucks I’m sorry lol. I’m still trying to get back into my writing groove...Also don’t mind my minor mistakes 😅

A/N 2: Anyways I AM BACK AND this is my first request ever!! I’m so excited to write this, I am soo sorry this took forever, but hope I did your request justice and that you like it (and so do others). I feel like I wrote this kinda cheesy, but whatever.

[Y/B/N = your blog name]

As always lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my future works and feedback is very much appreciated. Enjoy! <3

Just another normal day without stress and a less anxiety filled world...no, today was actually awful. You were swamped with work and your best friend was complaining about her boyfriend. Let’s just say that the stress she was having with him was making you feel happy that you were single. Trying to relax you heated up some coffee (a/n: or tea) and sat on the couch of your small apartment. Grabbing your laptop you wanted to unwind reading. Probably some fanfics on Tumblr usually does the trick.

After reading some pretty good marvel related fics by your mutuals, you got inspired to write some fics yourself. Opening up a new tab you began writing about your favorite actor, Sebastian Stan. That man literally makes your miserable day a little better. Sadly, like all the girls and women who fantasize over him, he doesn’t know you. But, whatever right? You can always use your imagination and conjure up a make believe world where the two of you are happily engaged and have a German Shepard puppy named Stitch. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you opened another tab on your laptop to pull up your writing playlist, you began typing away on your keyboard writing a new AU where you’re the celebrity of the world you were creating and he was a huge fan of you. After you finished your new fic, you posted that immediately without edits because you were so excited to see people read it.

*across town*

“Have you guys ever read any fanfiction about your characters or yourselves?” the interviewer asked the pair.

“You know I’ve seen a few that were quite impressive. These writers are damn creative.” Anthony replied with a smile. “I will also not lie. I’ve read a few steamy ones and y’all are dirty.” he added with a slight disgusted face shaking his head towards the camera.

“What about you Sebastian? Have you read any?” the interviewer lady asked, looking over to the man.

“Honestly. I haven’t.” Sebastian chuckled looking back at her. “Maybe, if Mackie here finds a good one about me I’ll give it a read.” shrugging towards his friend.

“Oh man, I got a few that are worth reading.” Mackie laughed, rubbing his hands together.

“Hey, might as well share them with the world. Let’s give that writer a shout out!” she exclaimed, placing her notecards on her lap.

“Well, like I’ve said I’ve only read a bit, but I do have some blogs that I’ve saved. Maybe next time I’ll name drop a few and give fans some well deserved praise.” Anthony smiled looking at the two.

“Alright, well you better have a huge list for me.” the lady said with a smile looking at Anthony. “Thank you both again for your time. For everyone watching Falcon and the Winter Soldier comes out in March 2021.” She finished off the interview smiling and waving at the camera and the two men followed her actions as well. Once the cameras and mics were turned off the lady came back to the two men.

“Thank you again guys for your time” the lady said to the pair shaking their hands (a/n: ok let's pretend there is no corona in this world so yeah. Everyone is healthy and so is the world!). The two replied with a simple you’re welcome and another thanks in return.

“Wait, have you really read fanfiction before?” Sebastian asked his co-star as the pair walked towards their manager, who was waiting for them outside the room, getting their schedule for the pair’s next interview.

“I mean yeah. I got curious on what people were writing about us and our characters.” Anthony responded with a shrug looking down at his phone.

“Aren’t most of those like fifty shades of grey?” Sebastian asked, staring at his friend as stood near their manager.

“Only if you want them to be..” Mackie stared at his friend with a blank face as they came to an abrupt stop. “Nah man, I’m just playing. Some of them are steamy, others can be sad, like crazy sad and some are like tooth rotting cute. Like I recently read one that was with Captain America and this original character that the author came up with and it made me say ‘aww’ when I finished it. Me. A grown man said ‘aww’ after reading a fanfic. A FANFIC!” he added. Their manager quickly explained their schedule and walked them over to their car to head off to the next location. The two were seated at the back, while their manager sat next to the driver.

“You know what. Send me that story you read.” Sebastian said to Anthony.

“Are you sure Seb?” Anthony asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, why not.” he replied with a shrug. “Might as well read a good story before our next interview.”

“Alright let me send it to you right now. Honestly I think this writer is one of my favorites. I don’t know if it's her writing style or how she portrays our characters, but she’s amazing.” Mackie said with a smile getting the fic he recently read and sending it to his friend.

“So all her stories are good?” Sebastian asked, looking at the notification.

“I just said that she is my favorite writer.” Anthony looked at his friend with a ‘are you serious face.’

“Okay. Okay.” Seb said with his arms up in defense. After a few minutes of reading the fanfic Sebastian actually said ‘aww’ aloud just like Mackie after he first read the story.

“It was good wasn’t it.” Anthony asked with a toothy grin.

“Yeah this was really good. Y/B/N is a pretty good writer.” Sebastian said looking through your feed.

“You should tell her!” Anthony exclaimed.

“What, like make an account?” Seb asked.

“Well yeah, but I mean not your actual name of course. Make a fan account. Show these writers your appreciation, I know that if I were an author I would love that (a/n: wink wink). I’ve messaged a few writers complimenting their work without actually telling them who I am.” Anthony said, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna read more stuff from her before I message her.” Sebastian chuckled. Sebastian clicked onto your main blog page to find that you had just posted a new fic about him. “Wait, dude she just posted a new story...About me!” Sebastian exclaimed, showing his phone to Anthony.

“Nice, but we have to finish these interviews. You gotta read it during your free time man, sorry to crush your dreams.” he chuckled, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car. Sebastian sighed and followed his co-stars actions getting out of the car and continuing the rest of his day filled with interviews.

*later that evening*

After the interviews Anthony and Sebastian had dinner together at a fancy restaurant. During their dinner they talked about how crazy some interviews were. Sebastian brought up the subject of how Mackie publicly announced that he had read fanfiction. With that still stuck in his mind the two finished their meal and after parting ways. Sebastian took a cab and arrived at his apartment, changed out of his fancy suit to some comfy clothes and grabbed a bottle of water from his fridge. He walked over to his couch turning on the tv, not really paying attention to what was playing, grabbing his phone he opened the tumblr app finally creating an account.

*one week later*

Sebastian has read almost all of your works and texting Anthony almost every time after he has finished a new fic giving his reactions to each. He has liked and reblogged everything he has read from you and other writers, but he favors your stuff the most.

Mackie: dude you should tell her you like her stuff and stop texting me!

Seb: Alright I will, I just don't know what to say.

Mackie: Just say you like her work. It's as simple as that.

Seb: okay okay I will

Mackie: ok good, no stop texting my its legit 2 am

Seb: fine

Sebastian opened up the messaging area of the app and began typing away his appreciation to you. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous after he pressed send. Getting out of the app completely he tried to focus on whatever was playing on the tv. Then all of a sudden he heard a notification go off and his phone light up. Looking down on it he saw that it was a notification from you. Again his nervousness took place as he unlocked his phone to read the notification. The app opened and the direct message filled his phone screen.

(a/n: this is my first time using a fake dm thingy so just imagine that Seb is following you)

Seb: Holy shit dude, she actually replied back to me!

Mackie: Well of course she did, she's not a robot. But maybe she is since she’s up so late...

Seb: shut up and why are you still up? I though you were mad at me for texting you

Mackie: well you woke me up so what am i supposed to do

Seb: whatever I’ll let you go

Mackie: alright. bye lover boy

Sebastian shook his head at the text, he went back to the app to reply back to you. “What should I say?” he said to himself. “Maybe she’s in a different time zone or lives across the world or something… Okay okay. Maybe be chill and say I hope i didn’t wake you? No that sounds weird.” he shook his head trying to come up with something to say. Eventually he fell asleep trying to think of what to say to you.

*the next morning/later that day*

Sebastian woke up with his phone gone from his hand. He quickly got out of his bed in panic to look for it. Maybe you had said something to him or he had said something dumb to you. Once he found his phone he quickly unlocked it to check and thank god he didn’t say anything stupid. But he didn’t say anything. He shook his head clearing his thoughts. “Alright I think I know what to say.”

Y/N’s POV

You woke up to the sound of cars honking, groaning you looked at your clock. “How is it already 10 am?” you said aloud to nobody in particular. You sat up on your bed and grabbed your phone scrolling through various social media apps. At the top of your screen you saw a notification from tumblr. Opening the app to the notifications section, you noticed it was a blog that had messaged you from earlier in the morning.

sebstan_fan: Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Carter. I don’t know where you live, but I just woke up and had a dream about one of your fics. (wow I hope that didn’t sound creepy)

You smiled at the message, since you loved interacting with your followers.

y/b/n: haha its ok. I actually live near New York City and I also woke up. What was your dream about? (if i can ask)

Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian had just finished taking a shower and began preparing his late breakfast. “Holy shit she replied again!” he said to himself looking at the message.

sebstan_fan: Wait, you live near NYC! Me too! Wow such a small world. But anyways my dream was honestly just a reenactment of your fic.

y/b/n: that’s so crazy how we live near each other lol. But that's so cool how you dreamt about my work. You must have really liked it.

sebstan_fan: yeah it was really interesting how you wrote such a life like scenario.

y/b/n: thank you Carter <3

sebstan_fan: ok I now this is random, but what’s your favorite place to eat in New York?

y/b/n: ooh that’s tough. Let’s go with Lombardi’s since its the very first pizza place to open in the US

sebstan_fan: oh wow an excellent choice :)

*a couple weeks later*

You and your new tumblr friend have been talking about one another’s favorite hobbies and interests for the past few weeks. You feel like you have grown a new connection with your new friend and telling them about your shitty days at work. Today your best friend wanted to bring you with her and her boyfriend to some fancy restaurant.

y/b/n: Carter, I’m practically third wheeling with her and her boyfriend.

sebstan_fan: well that sounds awful. Where is she taking you?

y/b/n: idk to some fancy restaurant I’ve never heard of. Anyways she’s making me wear fancy clothes, but I just wanna wear my pajamas!

sebstan_fan: y/n come on. you gotta dress nice if other people are dressing nice too

y/b/n: ughh ok I think I found something nice. *sends picture of yourself in an elegant dress* what about this?

Seb’s POV

Sebastian got a glass of water and sat back down on his couch. Unlocking his phone to see the new dm from you he spit his water out of his mouth wetting the coffee table in front of him. “HOLY SHIT SHE’S GORGEOUS!” he yelled aloud staring at his phone in awe of your beauty.

sebstan_fan: Y/N, you look amazing! That dress is literally making you glow!

y/b/n: stop you’re making me blush..my friend just pulled up. I’ll dm you later once this stupid night is over.

sebstan_fan: alright have fun

y/b/n: <3

Sebastian quickly called Mackie to tell him that you sent him a photo of yourself.

“Dude, she is unbelievably gorgeous. I actually spit my water out all over my coffee table when I saw the picture. ” Sebastian said on the phone.

“Man you are so obsessed with her, it's kinda creepy.” Anthony replied through the phone.

“What? No man, we just clicked. We have a bunch in common and she’s really easy to talk to.” Sebastian gushed to his friend.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that you’re lying to her about your real identity. You’re like fucking Superman with a secret persona!” Anthony snickered at the man on the other line.

“Dude no, but I’ll tell her eventually that I’m me.” Seb replied back to Anthony.

“Well you better do it soon because I’m tired of hearing about you gushing over this woman.” Anthony huffed under his breath. “Anyways I gotta go so bye bitch.”

Sebastian laughed at his friend hanging up the phone and heading to his room getting ready for bed. As he laid on his bed he couldn’t take his mind off of you in that dress. You were so open with sharing your life to him, a complete stranger, yet he couldn’t do the same.

*the next day*

y/b/n: Carter! I forgot to dm you once I got home, but that dinner was terrible. I hated every minute of it.

sebstan_fan: what happened? Also good morning :)

y/b/n: good morning, sorry if I woke you. But anyways my best friend and her boyfriend brought some dude to make it a double date and the guy was a complete douche. I couldn’t stand a minute being there.

sebstan_fan: damn I’m sorry to hear that. I bet if I was there with you the night wouldn’t have been so bad haha

y/b/n: creepy..jk But I bet we would have completely ditched my friend and her boyfriend lol

sebstan_fan: wait, I got an idea! I mean since we live around the same area why don’t we meet!

y/b/n: what like in person?

sebstan_fan: no through zoom, yes in person!

y/b/n: wow the sarcasm in this one, but that sounds like a lovely idea. I feel like I already know so much about you tho...

Sebastian huffed under his breath, “not everything.”

sebstan_fan: lol yeah but it’ll be different to meet in person. Anyways where should we meet?

y/b/n: lol that’s true. Well I know this small cafe that’s so cute and I heard they have pretty good pastries. It would be awesome to meet there :D

sebstan_fan: alright how about Saturday afternoon? You don’t have work right?

y/b/n: nope I’m off! but that sounds good to me! I’m so excited and nervous at the same time. Like what if you’re some creepy stalker...

Sebstan_fan: why would you accuse me of such a thing?!

y/b/n: lol you know i’m just messing with you. But I gotta go my friend is now calling me, probably about that douche from last night...but I can’t wait to see you Carter!<3

“Yeah, me too.” Sebastian said to himself smiling.

*Saturday*

You sat at the cafe where you told your new tumblr friend to meet you. You ordered a drink and once it was finished, you grabbed it and sat near the windows saving a seat for Carter. As you waited you pulled out your laptop and began on typing away a new fic idea drawing inspiration from the small cafe and the gloomy weather outside.

“I’m sorry that seat’s taken...” you muttered to a man who pulled out the chain next to you, looking up at the figure. “Holy shit!” you exclaimed to the man who sat next to you.

“Shhhh...Please don’t say anything.” Sebastian whispered to you, sitting on the chair next to you and taking off his sunglasses.

“What? But how? You’re!? I can’t breathe.” you exclaimed erratically looking down at your drink.

“Hey, hey Y/N, just calm down and take slow deep breaths.” he said calmly placing his hand on your back.

“How the fuck do you know my name?!” you exclaimed again staring wide eyed at the actor. “Am I getting pranked or something? Where are the cameras?!” you nervously laughed looking around the empty cafe.

“No, you’re not getting pranked. It’s me Carter…” he said quietly rubbing the back of his head.

“You’re Carter?! I thought you were a girl!” you said looking into the man’s blue eyes.

“I may have lied about who I was, but I wanted to meet you.” he started as he stared down at the ground. “I didn’t want you to freak out knowing that it was actually me.” he said looking back up at you.

“Let me just gather my thoughts for a sec.” you said, putting your hand to your temples.

“Wait, why did you assume I was a girl?” he asked with a smirk.

“I don’t know! Carter is a unisex name.” you frantically said with a shrug. “And I mean most of my followers are female, so I just assumed you were one too.” you added grabbing your drink and taking a sip to calm your nerves.

“That makes sense I guess.” he said chuckling, looking out the big window of the cafe.

“This is so crazy that you are here. Sitting next to me and talking about my stupid tumblr blog.” you uttered. “Like you’re famous!”

“Yeah so what.” he looked back to you.

“I mean aren’t you busy filming and stuff?” you asked the man.

“Nope, we just wrapped up the interviews a couple of weeks ago. I’m on vacation.” he said with a toothy grin, which made you blush. “Aww look she’s blushing.” he said sweetly towards you.

“Shut up. It’s not like I get to meet my favorite actor who I’ve had a crush on since forever sitting next to me and casually conversing with.” you muttered quickly hoping he didn’t hear your profession of love for him.

“You got a crush on me?” he smiled at you.

“Fuck you. I do not!” you exclaimed looking away from him.

“Aww I think you do.” he said, nudging your shoulder.

“Whatever.” you said under your breath trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Hey, I’m in awe too.” he began, which made you look at him. “It’s not like I get to see a beautiful woman who I like.” he smirked at you.

“I think I’m dreaming. Did you just say you like me?!” you asked pinching yourself back into reality.

“I mean yeah. I really like your work as a writer and the past what month we’ve been talking I think you’re a really cool and sweet person.” he said now blushing.

“I bet you say that to all the women you meet.” scoffing at his comment.

“No I’m serious Y/N. I think you’re a really talented writer. And I think you’re also really pretty.” again blushing, but this time he looked straight at you.

“Oh, wow. Thank you so much Sebastian.” you hesitated, your cheeks heating up. “That means a lot coming from you.” you smiled.

“Of course. And also I wanted to ask you in person if after coming clear about who I actually am, if you wanted to go out sometime. I know its weird and all sudden but-”

“Yes!” you exclaimed quickly cutting him off. “I mean. I would love to.” you said more calmly. “God, I’m trying so hard to keep my inner fangirl in.” you huffed under your breath.

Sebastian laughed at your comment and then asked, “Alright then. What about tomorrow I take you out for dinner?”

“That sounds delightful.” you smiled at the man. The two of you fell silent watching the people who passed by the small cafe.

“Oh, but can I ask you one more question? Why are you wearing a hat? And shades earlier? It's legit rainy and cloudy as hell outside.” you asked, looking at the man with your head resting on your hand.

“I’m going incognito. I don’t want my fans to recognize me.” he replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Are you embarrassed of them seeing you with me?” you hesitantly interrogated.

“No, I just don't want them to interrupt our first date.” he responded with a smirk looking at you.

“Wait, this is a date?!” you exclaimed with wide eyes.

“Only if you want it to be sweetheart.” Sebastian smirked, winking towards you.

“Fuck you.” You said with a smile.

A/N: Yay you finished! Was that good? bad? cheesy? lemme know lol Again if you wanna be tagged in future fics, have any requests or just wanna chat hit me up! Thank you guys for reading and I hope you get excited for more stuff to come.

Tags: @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @sebtheromanianprince @aquabrie @who-the-hell-is-sebastianstan @princess76179 @anbrax5553 @wintersoldierissucharide @caplanbuckybarnes @miraclesoflove @kitkatd7 @msgreenverse @saiyanprincessswanie @fandomsandxfiles @hailmary-yramliah @coffeebooksandfandom @thefallenbibliophilequote

^please lemme know if you wanna be added to future works or removed for tags^

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian x reader #reader x sebastian #sebastian stan x reader #reader x sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #you x sebastian #sebastian x you #you x sebastian stan #reader insert #sebastian stan fluff

209 notes · View notes

alecmagnuslwb · 3 years ago

Text

You’ve Changed Man - @doubleredweek Day 4

Read on AO3

Jason doesn’t mind stakeouts generally. He likes the peace and quiet of being alone, of stalking his prey and figuring out their ins and outs so he can take them out. It’s probably a bit of the Selina Kyle training he got in his youth slipping in and he absolutely loves it.

A stakeout with Roy isn’t even too bad, because he loves Roy and even though Roy loves to talk sometimes, he gets the need for quiet when on a stakeout. He understands Jason’s desire for silence, for focus. Plus if things get really boring they can just make out. It’s a win-win situation no matter what really.

Jason however decidedly hates stakeouts with his brothers, except for maybe Duke who at least knows the value of silence even if he thinks quote on quote ‘stakeouts are stupid, that’s what the internet is for’. Damian’s impulse control makes Jason look like a patient saint, Dick treats it like he’s a still a cop and Tim might be worst of all.

Tim Drake is incredibly smart, though Jason doesn’t like to tell him that. He’s hardwired like a better detective than Batman himself, which he also doesn’t like to tell him. He’s focused, determined and sharp as a tack at most times. Except evidently on a stakeout when he’s on his tenth black eye with three extra shots of the night. Jason has no idea when Tim last slept, but he’s starting to feel like it was a worrying amount of time ago.

Tim’s gone from focusing his attention solely on the target across the street to looking in the living rooms of any place he can find and seeing what’s on tv. He’s quoted a range of television shows and movies verbatim and he’s spouted out so many facts about things only barely related to what he’s catching on people’s televisions that Jason can’t keep track.

He’s basically driving Jason insane as he tries to keep his own focus on Sophia Falcone in her luxury penthouse apartment that she’s rumored to have not left in pushing three months now. She’s up to no good, that much they know, just what kind of family business no good they’re not sure. Which is why they’re staked out on a rooftop in 70-degree nighttime heat in form fitting leather. Not to watch people’s tv’s.

Tim’s leg is bouncing up and down the jitters of the coffees keeping him in constant motion. Frankly between the heat, the deeply uneven ratio of coffee to water and the constant movement Jason’s not quite sure how Tim hasn’t passed out from dehydration yet.

Scientists should probably study Tim for inhuman ability related to coffee which is coming from a guy who should probably be studied for the whole coming back from the dead thing.

Tim’s been quite for a while now, finally, but the silence is broken when he starts muttering under his breath. Jason looks over from where Sofia has been barking orders at a maid to see Tim swaying back and forth and gives him a judgmental look.

Soon enough the muttering gets a little louder and Jason can clearly tell he’s singing, poorly so but singing nonetheless.

“And the line where sky beats the sea, it calls me!” he sings a little too loud for their position. Jason smacks him on the shoulder gaining his attention.

“Keep it down,” he says before turning his attention back to Sofia, but he can only see the poor haggard maid now. “Also, that’s not the lyrics.”

Tim doesn’t say a thing which he knows he should be grateful for, but he really needs to know if Tim’s coffee addled brain understands that he has to keep it down so he pulls his focus back to Tim.

He expects him to be once again watching Moana through some poor person’s window, but instead Tim is looking directly at him eyes bright, wide and positively delighted under his domino mask sporting the dorkiest fucking smile Jason has ever seen on a human being.

“What?” he asks confused, feeling like he’s clearly missing something.

“You know the lyrics to Moana,” Tim says with absolute glee.

Jason just shrugs. “So? Lian loves it and Roy does this whole thing where he sings it to her when she’s in the tub. There’s a whole production with plastic boats and a water-logged Barbie involved and everything,” he says trying to play it off as nothing to think about, but knowing he sounds exceedingly fond. It’s one of the cutest things he’s ever seen and Roy’s voice is actually pretty nice, in another life he might have been a low rent rockstar. He has the hair for it.

“You’re so domestic now,” Tim giggles taking another sip of his latest cold brew. Jason thinks Alfred and magic must be involved in how he fit so many into his little cooler. “It’s adorable.”

“I’m not domestic now,” Jason balks at Tim his gut instinct to instantly deny. He’s the Red Hood, the nightmare that criminals tell their lackeys about. He’s a badass raised on the streets who’s spent time in the tutelage of some of the greatest criminal masterminds alive. He can take any gun you sit in front of him apart and put it back together in under fifteen seconds. He was raised on the streets dammit, he’s the broken son of the Bat. He’s not domestic, he’s a badass.

“I’m the fucking Red Hood,” he says instead of all that, it seems like he’d be reaching too far and being a bit too defensive if he went on the rant he just had in his head.

“Yeah you are,” Tim says with that goofy smile just getting goofier. “And the fucking Red Hood is a big ol’ domestic softie now who’s in love,” Tim singsongs the word love. “And makes casseroles and knows all the words to Moana,” he finishes off in explanation with playful poke to Jason’s shoulder

Jason shoves his hand away and bristles at the implication he’s gone soft. So what if he spends more time at home than he ever has before and he puts a little more effort into his cooking now that he’s cooking for three instead of quick meals for one in empty safehouses. So what if he makes his choices based entirely on whether it will cut into his time with Roy and Lian. And yeah, maybe he knows more about Disney animation now than he ever did even when he was a child himself, but he’s a sort of stepfather and sort of husband these days and it all comes with the territory.

It doesn’t mean he can’t still kick ass and demolish the criminal underbelly of Gotham.

“Am not,” he replies like the mature adult he is. “You are.”

Tim just scoffs at him, actually says the word scoff. The coffee has to be making him delusional by now.

“Don’t live in denial brother o’ mine, you’ve changed man,” Tim giggles again swirling his coffee around the ice clinking loudly in the rare quiet of a Gotham city night.

“No I haven’t,” Jason says even though he knows that’s not true. He’s better than he used to be. It’s not a thing to get defensive about, but he feels like his brother’s should still think of him as tough for some reason. His sister never has, so he’s not too worried that Cassandra has definitely caught him making unicorn shaped pancakes in the kitchen one morning and caught him obsessing over rings in a jewelry store window for a reason he hasn’t quite admitted to yet that one time. She’s a great secret keeper too, since Tim definitely would be bringing up those events right now if she had blabbed.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Tim says between big slurps of his coffee. “You’re still the spooky boogeyman that criminals fear, but you’re also the guy whose ringtone is from the Little Mermaid. It’s a cool balance, pretty sure it’s the balance we’re all trying find.”

“Lian changed my ringtone and every time I switch it back she just does it again, so I left it,” Jason says feeling a little less defensive now. Maybe Tim’s right, maybe it’s not necessarily a bad thing. He is the happiest he’s been since he crawled out of his own grave, happier than he was even in those vague rare memories of joy he has from his own childhood.

“Sweet,” Tim says warmly picking his binoculars back up and going back to the house where the movie is playing instead of the criminal kingpin’s daughter. Jason just rolls his eyes focusing his own attention back on the task at hand.

They sit quietly after that Jason watching as Falcone Jr. paces in front of her fireplace clearly agitated about something while Tim quietly enjoys his movie.

“So what are the lyrics?” Tim asks breaking the quiet. It seems he’s run out of coffee now and has resorted to just chewing on the straw.

“It’s where the sky meets the sea not beats,” he emphasizes.

“Cool,” Tim says finally shifting his binoculars back to the same place Jason has been looking for the past four hours. Another few beats of quiet pass and Jason thinks maybe finally they’re back in business, until Tim ruins it.

“Will you sing it for me? You know to make sure I get it right?” he asks and Jason looks over at him his eyes still trained on the penthouse, but with that goofy smile on his lips again.

Why did Bruce have to adopt so many damn kids? Jason could have been an only child, that would have been nice.

Jason squares his shoulders and puts on his best Red Hood voice. “Absolutely fucking not.”

He only sings for Lian dammit.

#my fic #jayroy #jayroyweek2021 #jason todd #roy harper #writersmonth2021

22 notes · View notes

sourbat · 3 years ago

Note

For that touch writing prompts meme, Melmord/Charles - 17, or Magnus/Melmord - 20?

"Holding the other’s chin up"-charles/melm

summary: the dead don't have time to rest or mourn. they do, eventually, find time for each other.

Rating: T for being a huge bummer

Melmord could still recall what he was doing when it happened. He had just finished washing his dishes, and was busy flinging his left hand that smarted from a nasty papercut turned raging hellfire after making contact with the suds, when the alarms went off and Facebone’s voice rang and alerted him of a fire. Then, another alarm telling everyone to hurry to the surface and be prepared to “Die for Dethklok,” before the power totaled, and Melmord was left alone in the dark. The earth above shook, and for some time Melmord spent his waking hours head tucked between his knees, wondering if he was doing to endure yet another death, this one slower and far more excruciating than the last.

Four days later, and after nearly going through all his rations, he was pulled from the rubble by none other than Charles himself.

“Y-you…”

Melmord took his hand and held on to it like an anchor.

“That’s all?” Charles inquired, pushing his lopsided, cracked glasses up his bruised nose. “No witty remark, Fjordslorn?”

Offdensen told him that “there wasn’t much time,” and they had to leave Mordland grounds before the boys up above “unlatch the dragon.” That was all. There were no remarks about what caused the power outage, the quakes and Mordhaus falling apart, nor comments regarding how utterly shaken and disposed Melmord felt being haplessly caught in the middle of it. Then again, it wasn’t like Melmord was itching to know why Offdensen had suddenly lost his color and suit, or how he earned that nasty gash. Frankly, he was just happy to be alive and out of the small hole he’d been trapped in for days.

Then, the aftermath. Melmord stepped out into the moonlight and saw the blood and piles upon piles of bodies. Shattered pieces of metal and concrete were scattered across the uneven land, and tall burn tress resembling skeletons stood silently in the night. Melmord smelled and gagged at the intense stench that hung thick in the air. A soured stew or rotting meat and dead leaves.

He needed to know after that.

“What happened?” he asked through his parched lips as Charles led them deep into the charred woods.

“I’ll explain later.”

This proved to be a lie.

He tried another: “Where are we going?”

“To find answers,” Charles replied, then turned far right before gesturing for him to follow.

“Where’s Dethklok?” Melmord asked once they were already several hundred feet into the air. They hovered over Mordhaus. The view was quite lovely, but the glow of the dragon’s eyes still haunted and made him visibly queasy.

“They’re staying behind,” Charles replied. “They’ll be safe here.”

“But I won’t?”

Charles removed his cracked glasses and tucked them into his jacket. “We have business to conduct.”

That was months ago.

Several months of being mostly in the dark, still trapped, just under a new concrete and slabs that silently, tenderly suffocated Melmord with each passing day. It wasn’t like they didn’t have time to discuss, either. In between the gunfire, traveling through sewers, through sleet and snow, there was plenty of time to stop and talk. But where discussions of the unfolding events should have occurred, instead were long nights spent in absolute silence. Lonely nights where Melmord would see Offdensen staring at the moon, the stars, looking strangely lost in thought, or deep in contemplation. Naturally, Melmord wanted to inquire about the silence. He refrained, partly because he was used to the man constantly giving him the cold shoulder and suspected any attempt would result in the same. Another side savored the sight. It was rare to see Charles’ cornered, morose or locked in a state of misery.

So they continued their endless search, spending their days traveling by tank, jeep or boat to the next piece of some unknown puzzle Offdensen refused to share, and their nights separated, with him sitting on top of some crate, roof or standing in a corner, body hunched and mind elsewhere.

And, for a while, Melmord was perfectly fine with that.

Until, one cold night, he wasn’t.

He was still trapped under the heavy load, still holding the icy white hand that lead him deeper into the strange unknown, the same hand that pushed him onto the alter before having him branded, when Melmord learned the reason behind Offdenson's odd behavior. The army radio he’d stolen after their most recent stint cracked the news of the tragic events that took place six months prior.

Through the heavy static Melmord heard the news of the attack by the Revengencers, of the damage they caused, and Dethklok’s decision to renovate and create space by lifting Mordhaus into the skies.

He learned that Charles had been brutally beaten the death, and died protecting Dethklok.

Charles died.

He died, and like Melmord, came back to live a life away from everything that he knew. A sad, empty life that currently held no meaning.

“Where are we going?” the words played out in his mind, teasing Melmord at first, but revealing a sad truth when, after several months of traveling across the globe for bits of rocks and names and stories, realized that Charles was likely just as trapped and blindly feeling his way through for an escape. Charles was secretive, and Melmord knew better than to expect to be given answers Charles didn’t consider him worthy of, but he did expect something. Anything.

But Charles was quiet. Reserved. Cold.

In mourning.

Shaken by the news, Melmord dropped the radio. It held, but the connection fizzled into a crash of white noise and static, and Melmord hurried to turn it off before checking to see if Charles noticed. Thankfully, the man was still resting, but for the rest of Melmord’s watch, he remained overly vigilant, hardly moving from his spot in their camouflaged sniper’s nest, and when the time for him to wake Charles and trade positions arrived, decided against it and give the man a few minutes more. Melmord held the rifle Charles taught him to use close to his chest, staring out in the far-off distance for any possible hit man, and watched the sun slowly begin to rise.

…

Charles awoke with the sun glistening past the roof, stinging his face with humid, hot rays. Odd. Charles slid up the walls and rubbed his tired eyes. Several birds chirped around them, and the wet head amassing around them suggested he had overslept by at least four hours. He had slept through his watch, exposing their limited defenses against the unknown enemy.

A carefully planned routine, suddenly ruined.

“Hey, Offdensen.”

Charles shifted to Melmord sitting on the other side of the sniper’s nest, head resting against the rifle.

Of course. The real reason behind his extended slumber.

“What time is it?”

“Hey. Listen,” Melmord said. He yawned, then rubbed his cheeks with his hands. “I just heard on the radio–”

“Radio?” Charles looked around the nest. Sure enough, a small army radio lay beside Melmord’s blanket. That wasn’t all he saw. In a flash, Charles noticed the location of the sun, and approximated the hour, and when he was ready to snap at Melmord for falling asleep on the job, found the two contradicting pieces of evidence hanging all over the man’s eyes. Prominent veins around the iris, and dark bags forming underneath. “Did you, ah, stay awake all night?”

“Yeah?”

He raised a brow. “Why?”

“You gonna let me finish a sentence?” Melmord snickered which, with his eyes to irritated, could easily be misconstrued. After another exaggerated yawn, his head sank, and his long, dark hair began to fall over his shoulder in heavy, tangled loads. “I learned you died six months ago.”

Oh.

Charles swallowed. “Ah.”

Just hearing the news brought a crushing weight upon his chest. It was a subject Charles meant to discuss with Melmord, months ago, while the wounds were still fresh. Each time, Charles found his thoughts coming undone from the memory and phantom pain resurging with a terrible vengeance. For weeks he wondered if Melmord endured the same fate, relived those last few painful second before going black.

“How long were you gone?”

They sat together, waiting on a call to inform them of their next destination. Another clue that might lead them one step closer to finding out the answer behind his rebirth, behind the obsession behind Dethklok, and the power that helped fuel the Revengencer’s fire. Maybe this time he would earn another sliver of information. The odds were stacked against them. Aside from the name "Falcon Back," there still wasn’t much else to go on…

All there was were the few questions he could answer, and perhaps through those few similarities, could gain some solace in knowing he wasn’t entirely alone in solving this impossible puzzle.

Charles waited before giving a response. Just trying to gauge an estimate of his death proved to be quite unsavory to his bearing. He shut his eyes against the memory. “Long enough to feel myself leave my body,” he answered stiffly. “To know I’ve been gone and to know this isn’t natural.”

For once, Charles worried if his worlds were too cruel for Melmord. He wanted to glance upwards, at the light and Fjordslorn’s carefree expression and be told that he would acclimate, and that everything would return to its normal, working order.

Charles’s stare rested on the tips of his stained combat boots. “Fjordslorn?”

Melmord’s head nudged his. “Hmm?”

“Does it ever go away?” he asked, throat going dry. “Feeling so…”

Desolate? Alone? Frigid?

A hand lifted him by the chin. It was so warm to the touch. A frightening contrast to cold front that tormented him within.

“Nah,” Melmord answered, shaking his wet, heavy head. “Whatever it is…it’s never going to be the same again.” He exhaled, then to Charles surprise, exposed a curious, albeit, hinged grin. “But it has to be like that. It can’t ever be the same again, otherwise, what’s the point?”

“Point?” Charles heard himself parrot.

“Yeah, man. If everything was the same, then what separates this life from the last? It’s a second chance at life, so there’s got to be a difference, one that reminds us what’s at stake.”

His hand slid up Charles’ jaw, heating him with a careful touch.

Charles frowned. Melmord was under the terrible assumption life had a point to begin with, or that coming back to life held some significant meaning. It didn’t. People lived until they didn’t. Melmord was an exception, but only because Charles wanted to let the men in the lab to further develop their sewing abilities. Charles could explain how Melmord came back to life. He could not explain how he himself did though, not with any relevant scientific backing, and that frightened him. No one put him back together. He was gone. Gone for hours, possibly longer. And while he was gone he saw…things. He heard voices of unknown men and saw the face of something demonic, vile and uncannily familiar. He doubted Melmord saw any of that. He knew Melmord experienced none of these things, yet brought him along in the hope that he might have, and the very small chance that there was a connection. A significance. A purpose.

A point.

“Charles.”

This time, it was Melmord’s hand sliding off his chin that brought Charles back to the realm of the living dead.

“Yes, Melmord?”

“How are you feeling?”

What could he possibly say? That he felt like he was suffocating under a thousand questions, and no matter how far he traveled, and the clues they amassed, he seemed no closer to finding out the source of this mystery surrounding him and Dethklok.

Charles brushed his face against Melmord’s. “Well rested, thank you.”

#charles foster offdensen #melmord fjordslorn #charlesmelm #agaricales #touchatouchatouchatouchmeme

18 notes · View notes