#real footage of roger trying to talk to his crush

[the-iceni-bitch]

Territory Getting Hotter

Pairing: Carol Danvers x enhanced!Fem Reader

Words: ~2.9k

Summary: You’ve made another mess for the Avengers and they find out about your relationship with Captain Danvers

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fe receiving oral sex, use of toys, squirting, overstimulation, light dom aspects), mentions of canon level violence, SMUT!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: I love these two!!! Dom!Carol is it you guys, wow. Also, reader is such a massive pain in the ass and I love her for it, I can’t wait to piss off every single Avenger with her antics.

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You beamed at Carol when she walked into the kitchen, still bleary eyed from sleep as she stretched and ran a hand through her hair.

“Hey babe!” You grinned at her. “Guess who made pancakes?”

“You’re the best sweetie.” She murmured, wrapping around your back and nuzzling into your hair. “We’ll make a housewife out of you yet.”

You laughed as she moved to pour herself some coffee when there was a sudden pounding on the front door.

“Danvers!!” A low voice shouted through the door. “Open up, its Rogers!!”

“Shit!” She hissed, looking around frantically as she tried to find someplace to stash you.

“Would you relax?” You said as you rolled your eyes at her. “He has to find out sometime.”

“Yeah, but not today! He already sounds pissed. One second!!” She shouted back, throwing on some sweats. “Just find somewhere to hide, I don’t feel like dealing with this today.”

She moved to open the door as you shook your head at her, weighing your hiding place options.

“Hey Steve, what’s up?” She said, nonchalantly as she let him inside.

“What’s up? Have you watched the news yet this morning?” He seethed as he stormed into the kitchen.

“Oh no. What did she do?” Carol said, taking a deep breath and cursing you in her head for whatever shit storm you’d started now.

“I can’t even talk about it, I’m so mad.” He growled, moving to pour himself a cup of coffee without even asking. “Even Stark was pissed, and he’s usually pretty lenient.”

“Uh-huh.” Carol said as she chewed on her lip and nibbled on a piece of bacon.

“She managed to drag Thor into it, too. We may have to move her to a full time handler, one that she can’t corrupt.” He said, starting to calm down a little bit. “We’re having a meeting about it in 30 minutes, just wanted you to be prepared. How would you feel about taking her on?”

Carol heard a snort from somewhere in the apartment and did her best not to whip around to find you. Unfortunately Steve heard it to with his damn super soldier hearing.

“What was that?” He hissed, his eyes darting all over the quarters.

“Uh, my smoke alarm’s been acting up.” Carol muttered, trying to usher him out the door. “I’ll think about it, see you soon!”

She slammed the door closed and started searching for you.

“What the fuck did you do, baby?” She asked, scanning the apartment for you.

“Y’know, I think I’m gonna leave that for a surprise.” She heard from above her head and shot her gaze upwards.

You had somehow managed to wedge yourself into a tiny corner in the ceiling of the hallway leading to her bedroom. She was giving you a disapproving look as you dropped to the floor with a grunt and grinned at her.

“You think you can handle me babe?” You said as you moved to the bedroom to get dressed.

——————————————————————————

The two of you were sitting across from each other in the conference room half an hour later, trying to act like you didn’t fuck each other’s brains out every chance you got.

Or, at least Carol was. You were sliding your foot up the inside of her leg as she glared murderously at you and you just grinned like an idiot. She shook her head at you and turned to look at the giant screen where Tony was pulling up the surveillance footage as the rest of the team gave you exasperated glances.

“Oh, here we go, we’re getting to the good part.” Tony said, giving you a meaningful look as he slowed the footage down. “Now who’s this guy you just punched in the face and then threw across the club like a rag doll?”

“I think that’s the Duke of Edinburgh.” You said with a shrug, leaning back in your chair.

“No, that’s the Duke of Sussex, y’know, the queen’s nephew.” Nat said as she took a long drink of her coffee, looking exhausted.

“Oh shit, really?” You said, still grinning like an idiot. “Whoops.”

“And wait, here’s where Point Break blows all the lights in the club, which he says was your idea, so the two of you can make a run for it.” Stark said when the video suddenly went black.

“We weren’t making a run for it, we were pursuing our suspect.” You said, staring daggers at Thor as he tried to sink into his chair.

“Uh-huh, and did you catch your suspect?” Steve said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, he’s in holding right now.” You said with a shrug.

“What?! Why wasn’t that in your report?” Rogers said as he started to dig through the pile of paperwork in front of him.

“I haven’t completed the report yet, Captain Rogers.” You said lightly. “I made sure to update Captain Danvers though.”

“Let’s not get off track, this is about you assaulting a member of the royal family.” Tony said as he tried to redirect the conversation.

“He assaulted me first! He grabbed my ass and made some very ungentlemanly comments about what he would do if he got me in his car.” You said, pouting as you rested your head on your hands.

“He did grab her ass, Stark. I saw it.” Thor piped up before Rogers shot him a look and he went back to inspecting his coffee.

“So you threw him? That seems like a bit of an overreaction.” Tony said with an uncomfortable shrug.

“It’s a reflex, Stark.” You said, your eyes rolling back in your head as the other women frowned at him. “Sorry, I don’t think putting up with sexual harassment is in my job description.”

“Ok, ok fine. Nat, is there anyway you can spin this?” Stark said, turning to Romanoff as she let out a deep sigh.

“Yeah, the man is a pretty notorious dog, shouldn’t be too hard.” She muttered.

“Great! Excellent meeting team, see y’all at the next one!” You said, starting to stand up before Steve turned his attention to you.

“No, we still need to discuss your recklessness, Y/L/N.” He seethed, shooting you a scowl that you returned with a mocking air that had Carol trying to hold back a snort. “I’ve thought about it a lot and I think the best course is to have you under more direct supervision. I considered splitting up you and Odinson but I feel like that would just spread the chaos around after how much you’ve corrupted him.”

You shot a grin and a wink at Thor that he returned as the two of you finally relaxed, but Steve was still talking.

“So, Danvers is going to be accompanying you on your missions now. I feel like her levelheaded attitude is just what’s needed to keep you two in line.” He said with a satisfied smirk.

“Uh, you sure Danvers is the best choice there, Cap?” Tony said whole Nat snickered into her coffee.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t she be?” Steve said as he looked around at everyone’s amused expressions with confusion.

“They’re fucking each other Steve.” Nat said nonchalantly, sending Steve into a spluttering fit as you started cackling and Carol just rolled her eyes and groaned.

“What?!” Rogers roared, his eyes moving frantically between you and Carol as you grinned at him like an idiot. “How long has this been happening?”

“Six months.” Carol said resignedly, taking a gulp of coffee as she shrugged uncomfortably. “Didn’t really feel like dealing with the paperwork.”

“Si... six months?” Steve groaned, burying his face in his hands. “And you didn’t think that might be a conflict of interest?”

“Don’t worry Cap, Danvers is quite the disciplinarian.” You said with a wicked grin as you waggled your eyebrows suggestively.

Carol growled at you and gave you a meaningful look, and you just rolled your eyes at her before leaning back on your chair and propping your boots on the conference table.

“Well... shit.” Steve sighed, running his palm over his face in exasperation. “I guess Bucky can probably oversee some of your ops, and I’ll take over the rest of them. What?”

You and Thor both groaned at that, rolling your eyes at each other.

“Just, Barnes? Could you pick a bigger stick in the mud?” You said with a shrug. “I mean, we get it dude. You were tortured by evil scientists for years who turned you into a mindless killing machine, who wasn’t? And, I love you Steve, but do you even drink?”

“Ok, we’re gonna head out now.” Carol said as she frowned at you, stepping between you and Steve before a real fight broke out. “Guess we’ll report to HR as soon as we can.”

“Uh-huh.” Rogers mumbled, pouting a little as she ushered you out of the room.

Nat followed after the two of you lazily, shaking her head at Steve and Tony as Stark and Thor tried to assure the Captain that he was loads of fun to be around and a blast at all their parties.

“Congrats again you two.” She said with a grin as she split down a different hallway to her own quarters.

“Thanks Nat! You ever gonna tell him about you and Wilson?” You yelled after her, laughing when she flipped you off over her shoulder. “Told ya they knew, babe.”

“Yeah.” She mumbled before grinning at you. “So, you beat up a royal?”

“Shit. In my defense, I didn’t know he was a royal until after I threw him.” You said, following her down the hall back to her apartment. “I thought he was just a smarmy asshole.”

“That’s the problem, sweetheart.” She purred over her shoulder. “You never consider the consequences of your actions.”

“That’s all I think about, babe.” You said with a wicked grin as you waited for her to open the door.

“And now you’re dragging poor Thor into your messes.” She tutted, shaking her head at you as she closed the door and stripped off her jacket. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you had a little crush on that himbo.”

“If you didn’t know better?” You beamed at her, starting to unbutton your jeans and step out of your boots. “Honey, he’s a literal god. I have a massive crush on him.”

“Oh, are you trying to make me jealous?” She ripped off her tank top and threw it aside. “Cuz I’m already pissed at you.”

“Yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?”

She stepped forward and gripped your jaw tightly, smashing her mouth to yours as she started steering you towards the bedroom. You yelped when she tossed you on the bed, grinning as she climbed on top of you.

“You’re such a bad girl.” She growled at you, ripping your bra off in one quick motion.

You screamed when she slapped your tit harshly, the stinging sensation warming your chest while she bent to open the top drawer of the nightstand.

“I am. I’m fucking horrible.” You gasped as she rifled around. “What are you doing?”

She grinned at you as she straightened back up, holding a set of extra shiny looking restraints.

“These are vibranium.” She cooed as she grabbed your wrists and dragged them above your head, hooking them through the headboard as you panted underneath her. “I stole them from R and D, and there’s no way even you can break out of them.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” You said around a smirk, giving your hands a test yank and nodding appreciatively as Carol shackled each of your feet to the opposing bedposts.

She bit her lip as she stared at you, your legs spread wide over the bed and making your back arch. You moaned as she tore off your panties and slapped your pussy, your muscles twitching as arousal seeped out of you.

“Mmm, you look so good like this.” She mumbled, sliding down until she was laying between your thighs. “Can’t decide whether I should edge you all night or make you come so many times you forget your own name.”

She ran her tongue over your slit in a heavy stripe and you let out a shriek as you came as soon as she reached your clit. She pressed your hips into the mattress as she lashed her tongue against your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver with the strain of your orgasm.

“Looks like you made my decision for me.” She grinned at you before diving back in.

Her tongue swirled through your folds expertly, sucking your lips into your mouth and humming against you as your pussy started clenching around nothing. She wrapped her lips around your clit and you came again with a sob as your limbs pulled against the restraints, your body trying to arch off the bed.

She shoved her tongue inside you and you screamed as another orgasm crashed over you when her teeth brushed against your tiny bundle of nerves. Carol kept curling her tongue inside you as you vibrated underneath her, moaning as your release flowed into her mouth and soaked her chin.

“Fuck, Carol!” You whined as she sat up between your legs and lightly ran her fingers over your inner thighs. “That was almost too much.”

“Oh, we’re not done yet.” She smirked as she watched you panting underneath her, reaching for the bedside table again while you squirmed.

“Hey!” you exclaimed as she pulled out a massive dildo from the drawer of toys. “Is that my stormbreaker? I’ve been looking for that!”

“Yeah, well I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” She murmured before dragging the length on the thing through your slick coated folds, making you keen. “Did you know this thing comes with a thruster?”

“Yeah, why do you think I bought it?” You teased before your eyes rolled back in your head as she shoved it inside you.

She started fucking you with the toy at a punishing pace, grinning as you came apart like putty in her hands. Tears started leaking down your cheeks when she turned the vibrating function on and angled it so it was teasing against your clit with each push.

You whined as she bent over you and wrapped her lips around your nipple and swirled her tongue around it. She grinned against your chest as you tried to arch into her mouth, your restraints still holding you in place.

“Mmm, you gonna come again baby?” She muttered, nipping at the curve of your breast as your body started twitching, your release looming over you as you sobbed wordlessly. “Do it, you look so pretty when you fall apart.”

She twisted her wrist and you shrieked as your pussy fluttered wildly, your release leaking out around the dildo and pooling on her sheets. Your cried as she kept fucking you through it, wet sloshing sounds filling her bedroom as the toy slid in and out of you easily.

You let out an inhuman wail when she turned on the thruster and you felt the tip of the toy punch you in the cervix, coming again immediately as your body writhed wildly.

“Shit, I see why you love this thing.” She smirked as she kissed her way up your chest, still shoving the toy into your overworked cunt as your body went lax, your head polling to the side and drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. “You think about Thor fucking you when you use this, babe? Maybe I should bring him in here to fuck you stupid while I watch, would you like that?”

You just mumbled stupidly as your body shook with another orgasm, sinking into the bed in your fucked out state. Her slap snapped you out of it, making you take in a sharp breath as your brain rebooted.

“I asked you a question.” She growled as she twisted the toy again and you let out a low moan.

“I feel like this might be a trap.” You gasped as she palmed at your breast and laid down against your shoulder, still thrusting the toy into you viciously.

“That sounds like a yes to me.” She purred, nuzzling into your neck as she gave the toy a final push.

You screamed as she pulled it out of you suddenly, your release squirting out of you in a violent rush. Your body thrashed violently with the power of your orgasm and Carol cursed as you snapped her headboard and bedposts, the bed frame shuddering before one of the legs gave out and it sank to the floor with a crash.

“Holy fuck, you ok?” She asked, sitting up and grinning at you as she assessed the damage you’d caused.

“Yeah.” You said, swallowing thickly as you moved your limbs with a groan. “At least we know the cuffs work! Sorry about your bed.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She murmured, grabbing the key and unlocking the restraints before pulling you back against her chest. “We’ll just use yours I guess.”

“Are you gonna move in with me? I think that may give Rogers an aneurysm.”

“He’ll get over it.” She shrugged as you nuzzled into her chest. “Now, how do you think we should approach Thor?”

“What?! You were serious?”

——————————————————————————

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[harrietbarnesblog]

Kiss in the rain

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warning: swearing, fluff

A/n: you are Steve and Bucky's adopted daughter in this.

Peter was your best friend and the person you had a crush on maybe you even were in love with.

You and Peter were walking back to the Avengers tower from school. You felt a drop of water fall on your skin. You looked up. Another drop fell again. Suddenly it started to rain. You both were drenched in rain.

You loved rain. Especially dancing or playing in it.

“Y/n, we need to get somewhere where we won’t get wet.” Peter said.

“But I wanna play in the rain.”

“Your dad would kill me if let you do that.”

“come on, please.”

“okay, but you can’t tell anyone that I let you get wet.”

“Okay.” You were about to kiss him on the cheeks but he turned his head so ended up kissing on his lips.

You eyes widened. You lips were brushing over his. You couldn’t bring yourself to bring your lips away.

“can I kiss you?” he asked you.

“yes.”

His lips captured yours. You melted into the kiss. His lips were so soft. You pulled away out of the kiss.

“I’ve always wanted to do that. Kiss a boy I like in the rain.” You said.

“you like me?”

“Yes. I’ve always liked you.”

“I’ve always liked you too. Will you go on date with me this Saturday?”

“Of course I will.”

You both walked in the rain back to the tower. You both tried sneak back your rooms.

“Where do you think you two are going?” your dad stopped you and Peter.

“Mr. Rogers. I’m so sorry. We were on our back home and it started raining. It was getting late to come back home so we had no choice but to get wet in the rain.” Peter blabbered.

“Can we go now?” you asked him.

“you are not going anywhere young lady. You both have some explanation to do.” He said and called Tony.

“FRIDAY project the picture on the wall.” Tony said to Friday.

It was picture of you and Peter kissing in the rain.

“How did you get that?” you asked them.

“I have my sources. Are you two dating?” Tony asked.

“You know the rules, y/n. You aren’t allowed to date anyone until you are 25.”

“same goes with you, Peter.” Tony added

“We aren’t dating yet. It was our first kiss. And dad, please I like Peter. You know he is a good guy. He won’t break my heart or something. Please let me date him please.” You gave Steve puppy eyes.

“Please. Maybe I should tell dad that you were the one who poured blue food colouring on alpine.” You blackmailed Steve.

“You wouldn’t. Bucky would kill me if he knows. Besides you don’t even have proof.”

“Are you sure about that, dad? FRIDAY play the Kitchen’s footage of 12th November 2021, 3:47pm.”

*The video*

Steve was trying to bake a cake. He was whisking the cream. He picked up the blue food colouring to drop few drops in it. Alpine hops on the Counter and was sniffing the cream. Steve accidentally poured the blue colouring on Alpine.

“Shit I’m going to die. Bucky is going to fucking kill me.”

*End of the video.*

“Fine, I’ll let you date him but if he breaks my your heart, I’ll kill him. And no one talks about the footage.” Steve said.

“what footage?” Bucky asked as he entered the house.

“Nothing, buck. Tony was getting worried these two weren’t home yet so hacked into almost every cameras on their way home. He found a footage of them kissing in the rain.” Steve managed the hide the real truth about the footage.

“wait he did what. He kissed my little girl How dare he?”

“Buck, relax. Let them date.”

“no they can’t.”

Steve dragged buck out of the living room to convince him leaving you with Tony and Peter.

“Mr. Stark….” Peter started.

“you can date her but don’t break each other’s hearts, kiddos.” He said and left.

You pecked on Peter’s lip and left to go to your room to change your clothes.

Add yourself to the taglist if you want to

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[charliedawn]

How they would react if you got into a fight that you started? (men)

Bucky Barnes :

He would firstly check for any serious injuries and give the death stare to whoever was the one you were fighting with. He would then wait until you both get home and ask you why you had instigated the fight in the first place ?

" Why would you do something like this, sweetheart ? It doesn't sound like you.."

He would then proceed to wrap his arms around you and try to calm you down by gently petting the top of your head until you either calm down or fall asleep.

Steve Rogers :

He would give you the "I'm so disappointed" look and would spend his night trying to get you to open up and explain why you did it. If the answer is satisfying enough, he would take you in his arms and ask with a playful tone.

" So, did you win ?"

He would then wait until you fall asleep before calling the bar to excuse your behavior and ask if the other girl/guy is okay.

Clint Barton :

He would firstly check if you are okay, then tug you to bed and kiss your forehead before leaving the room, knowing that you probably don't want to talk about it. He would then go seek some answers from Natasha that would explain to him what had happened. He would then wait until morning to ask from your perspective and give you comfort if you need it.

" Hey, sweetie..Just your loving husband checking if you are alright.."

Thor :

" MY LADY ! YOU DARED FIGHT WITHOUT ME BY YOUR SIDE ?!"

He would be more upset about you not inviting him to the fight than starting it. However, he would still be worried and glance at you when you're not looking to make sure you are alright. He would tend to your wounds and care for you as well as..you guessed it..BEAR HUGS !!! Be prepared to be unintentionally crushed by very large muscles..

" YOU ARE A MIGHTY WARRIOR!"

Loki :

Fight..what fight ? No fight here. Nope. You wouldn't want Loki to go on a killing spree just because you got hurt. We all love the little psychopath, but let's be real. He has a little tendency to go overboard when it comes to emotions. The person you were fighting with wouldn't last the night if you told him..So, you tend to your own wounds and try to avoid him. However..if he were to find out..Oh boy.

" Okay, darling..Now, who shall I kill tonight ?"

Tony :

" Where ? When ? Who ? And How ? Who do I have to pay ?"

He would be there to insure that you have no serious injury and that nothing remains of that night..besides a small footage that he would actually keep for himself. He would love to tease you with it for days on end.

" Do you remember that part when you fell on your face because you were too drunk to even see the stairs ? Ah ! Hilarious !"

Yup. He's not letting you go with this.

Scott Lang :

" Honey ! Honey, it's me..!"

As the loyal and very understanding man that he is, Scott would rather let you punch him than anyone else..Long story short : he wanted to stop you and got a punch in the nose for it. He would later tell you that he didn't mind, but you would still care for him. As soon as he would be awake, you would follow him around, asking him if he is alright and he would try to reassure you by taking your hands and telling you over and over.

" Hey ! It's okay..You've done nothing wrong.."

Vision :

At first, he wouldn't understand as he can't exactly get drunk..But, when he would see you starting to beat the hell out of someone at the bar, he would stand between you two and take your hands in his to calm you down. He would then try to talk to your drunk self with kind words and constant eye contact.

" Hey. It's me, Y/N. It's me.."

When you would finally recognize him, he would smile in relief before carrying you home.

Sam Wilson :

" Wait..So, let me get this straight..You fought a chick/guy because..he/she looked at your boyfriend funny ? Doll, you know I'm your boyfriend, right ? And that I wasn't even there ?"

That would just make his day, his girlfriend/boyfriend fighting with another person for something that hadn't even happened..You would blush and try to find some excuse, the first one being alcool while he would look at you for several seconds before bursting out laughing. You would then turn around to leave, embarrassed, but he would wrap his arms around your waist and chuckle lightly.

" I'm joking ! Don't worry, I'm sure you were very drunk and we all make mistakes..Just, next time, make sure your actual boyfriend is here, hmm ?"

[iam93percentstardust]

I'm bombarding you with those prompts, so I fully understand if you just ignore all those you don't like, lol. Would WinterIronFalcon be an OT3 you're intrested in writing? Some established WinterFalcon with Tony pining helplessly after them, not believeing he could have a chance? With a dash of angst in it? Thank you ♡

There isn’t much angst in this but there is hopeless pining so yay?

Also on ao3 here

~

“Share Bear, it’s not fair,” Tony whines into the phone.

“What isn’t?” his cousin asks, sounding patient but also kind of amused. He takes the phone away from his ear and squints at it. Is she making fun of him? She probably is, Sharon always makes fun of him. She’s mean like that; he’s pretty sure she gets it from Natasha.

“They’re so fucking gorgeous, I can’t stand it.”

“Oh. Them again. Seriously Tony, didn’t you used to have better taste?”

“Excuse you,” he says, offended. “My taste is perfect.”

“They think arguing is foreplay.”

“It’s bickering! And it’s cute!”

“Gross,” Sharon says cheerfully.

“God hates me,” Tony says dramatically, flinging his hand over his eyes. “That’s why he cursed me to work with two such beautiful humans who are already dating each other.”

“Tony—”

“I know Bucky stays up to date with the fandom,” he continues, going a little quieter. “He’s gotta know that tons of people ship the three of us. But he doesn’t say anything about it. Share Bear, why doesn’t he say anything?”

“Probably because for every person who ships all three of you, there’s twice as many who ship just you and him,” she admits. “I know that if someone were shipping Maria and Nat and ignoring that I even exist, I’d be pretty upset.”

“Yeah,” he says glumly.

“What’re you filming today anyway?” she asks.

“True Crime. We were supposed to be doing an episode of Supernatural at the Odinson Mystery House, you know, over in Norway where the son found out he was adopted and then got super into Norse mythology and supposedly disappeared into a rainbow?”

“Oh yeah, that guy was crazy.”

“Wasn’t,” Tony insist stubbornly. “There are three different eyewitnesses and they all saw the same thing.”

“All three eyewitnesses tested positive for meth.”

“It was trace amounts and ruled irrelevant to the case. Anyway, there’s some sort of blizzard so our flight got canceled. We figured we’d get a jump on this season’s True Crime episodes instead.”

“What are you doing this week?”

He scowls into the phone. “Fandom episode. They voted for Captain America.”

He can practically hear Sharon wince. “I’m sorry. That fucking sucks.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, not least because both of them know exactly what happened to Captain America. He was recovered from the Arctic back in the 50s and went on to live a very happy and fulfilling life with Aunt Peggy. But that’s a very closely guarded state secret; the U.S. government can’t let it get out that Steve Rogers survived nearly a decade in the ice. Technically, Tony and Sharon aren’t even supposed to know but Aunt Peggy had insisted she be allowed to tell them after she took custody of Sharon and Tony moved out of Howard’s and into her home. It’s kind of cool actually, knowing that Uncle Steve is really Captain America. He’s a pretty great guy. It just kind of sucks that he can’t tell anyone about it and now he has to do a whole episode about it when everyone knows he’s a shitty liar.

He’d talked it over with Uncle Steve and Aunt Peggy when the results of the vote had first come in. Aunt Peggy’s advice had been to act more manic than usual, throw even more outlandish theories into the mix, and really make this episode about the banter between him and Bucky. “Direct their attention away from Steve,” she’d said. “They’re already going to be looking at you. Just make sure they’re doing it for the wrong reason.”

He kind of wants to kiss Bucky. That would definitely draw attention away from the episode. But that’s not fair to either Bucky or Sam, who are very happy with their relationship and don’t need a homewrecker like Tony throwing a spanner into the mix.

“Good luck,” Sharon tells him before they hang up. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Wow, thanks,” he mutters but she’s already gone.

~

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty webseries about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

Now they have a fandom and merchandise and actual fanfiction written about them, which is the craziest thing. They both have several often-quoted gifs floating around the Internet and Bucky has somehow become the poster child for being unimpressed by literally everything (he actually makes some of the best faces when something genuinely scary happens but they always end up editing those parts out—he has an image to maintain after all).

They brought Sam on once they started gaining in popularity. Tony, by that point, already had a pretty well-established crush on Bucky. He’d even thought that he had a chance with his co-host, small as it may be, and at first, it hadn’t seemed like Sam was going to change anything. He and Bucky argued all the time so Tony had been absolutely stunned when he’d stumbled upon them making out like it was the end of the world.

They had just finished filming their second season. Sam had suggested going out to a local bar. He’d suggested it for all three of them but Tony had, inexplicably, felt like a third wheel all night as Sam and Bucky bickered. At one point, Sam had disappeared off to the restroom and a couple minutes later, Bucky had followed him. Tony doesn’t know how long he had sat there waiting for them but he’d eventually gone looking for them only to find Sam pressing Bucky up against a wall.

And that had been that.

Three years later, Sam and Bucky are still going strong, Tony is as smitten with Sam as he is with Bucky despite knowing how hopeless both crushes are, and the fandom seems convinced to either write Sam out of Tony and Bucky’s relationship or write Tony into Sam and Bucky’s. He wishes they would stop. He stays pretty up to date with the fandom as well and they have all these meta posts about the way Bucky looks at him or something. It just keeps giving him hope but, well, it’s been three years. If Bucky wanted him, or if Sam did for that matter, they would have done something long ago.

~

“Hey, you doing okay?” Sam asks him as they’re setting up.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” He avoids meeting Sam’s eyes, focusing instead on adding creamer to the coffee. Marvels had presented them with these mugs last year to congratulate them on four years of Unsolved. They’ve got their most iconic quotes printed on them, Bucky’s with “Obviously I killed JFK” and Tony’s with “I’m the dramatic bitch your mom warned you about.” Sam has one too with his one and only line in the entire show printed on it (“Why did I agree to work with you?”) but since he’s always behind the camera, he doesn’t have to use the same mug for each episode.

“You just seem a little off.” The worst part is that Sam genuinely looks concerned. If they didn’t care about him, he thinks his crush might be easier to manage but they do because they’re just nice guys like that. “I know you weren’t too thrilled when we announced this week’s case.”

“Howard worked with him, practically hero-worshipped the damn guy. Of course, I’m not excited.”

Sam winces. They know all about Tony’s shitty relationship with Howard after his dad called Marvels furious that his son was hosting a webseries instead of coming home to grovel at his feet and take over the business. The whole team had been brought in to listen as Fury tried to placate him. By the end, Bucky had been furious on Tony’s behalf and Sam had berated Fury for twenty minutes for making Tony listen to the vitriol his dad had spewed. It had cemented his crush on Sam, then just a passing fancy, into something real and permanent.

“Seriously, Sam, I’m fine. Might be a little off today but I would have said if I didn’t think I could do it.”

Sam doesn’t look convinced but he agrees anyway. Tony sits down next to Bucky and passes him his mug. Bucky shoots him a grin and murmurs, “Thanks, doll.”

Tony doesn’t blush but that’s only because he has five years of practice. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Sam counting them down and he turns to face the camera, settling his hands in front of him.

“This week on Marvels Unsolved True Crime and in celebration of our 100th episode,” he begins, “we asked you what you’d like us to investigate and you came back—”

“—overwhelmingly,” Bucky interjects.

“Many, many times,” Tony agrees, “with a topic near and dear to my own heart: Captain America.”

“That’s right,” Bucky says, sounding surprised though Bucky had been the first to point out that maybe they shouldn’t do this episode because of Tony’s connections to Project Rebirth. “Your dad helped turn Steve Rogers into Captain America, didn’t he?”

“And he never let me forget it!” Tony says cheerfully.

“One hundred episodes,” Bucky says slowly, enunciating each word. “Can you believe that, doll?”

Sometimes, he wonders why the fans ship them when Sam is right there. Other times, Bucky says things like this and he understands completely.

“Not even a little bit, Bucky Babe.” Okay, so maybe he doesn’t help.

“One hundred. The big one zero zero.”

“We tried to do something extra special and get Sam in front of the camera for you guys—”

“—so you could see what a hunk he is—”

“—but Sam said that he didn’t trust anyone else to film us properly—”

“—which makes sense because Tony? If you put him in the wrong light, he’s practically a gremlin—”

“Hey!”

“I’m just telling the facts.”

“Well, the facts are wrong.”

“They’re facts, sweet thing, they can’t be wrong.”

“Can too. Anyway, since Sam refuses to join us—”

“—and that just breaks my heart because Sam, he’s one of my favorite guys, you know?”

Tony pauses. It’s not like Bucky to say anything nice about Sam. Usually, it’s all good-natured insults and bickering. He must really be fed up with the Starkbucks shippers to say something like this when they’re still this early in the show.

“Only one of?” he asks curiously.

Bucky shoots him one of those filthy grins that their audience loves so much. “Well, it’s hard not to include you on that list,” he drawls.

He’s not going to blush.

He’s not going to blush.

He’s not going to—

Damn it.

Whatever. It’s no big deal, that’s what editing is for. So what if Sam has never edited out one of Tony’s blushes yet? Maybe Tony will get lucky and he will this time.

“You know, I was actually named for Captain America’s sidekick?” Bucky asks, getting them back on track.

“Wow, that is deeply unfortunate,” Tony deadpans.

“Yeah, Dad’s a fanboy. His whole troop was pinned down and rescued by the two of them. He tells the story all the time—kind of like your dad.”

“Except my dad goes straight past into fanboy and directly into obsession territory.”

“…Fair enough.”

“Really? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Bucky shrugs and takes a sip out of his mug. “I’ve been inside your house. I’ve seen the Steve Rogers shrine. I’m not going to argue with you.”

Tony thinks about that for a moment. “It is kind of a shrine, isn’t it? Anyway, we’ve got some great stuff for you today. We’re going to crack open this cold case, show you some never-before-seen footage courtesy of my mom sneaking my dad’s old war tapes out of the mansion, and then we’ll talk a little bit about the theories out there.”

“How many of them are going to be ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible?”

Tony glares at him. “None of them. I have never once presented a ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible theory.”

“Right because alien abduction is a valid—”

“Aliens are real!”

“You said that crabs might have eaten Amelia Earheart!” Bucky shouts over him.

“It’s a valid theory!”

“I take it back, you’re not one of my favorite people anymore.”

“That really hurts me, deep inside,” Tony says sarcastically, trying to cover up that maybe that does send a small pang shooting through his chest. He likes the thought of being one of Bucky’s favorite people. He doesn’t want to lose that.

“How deep?” Bucky asks and winks.

“Very deep. Way, way deep down. Practically in my—”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he nearly chokes on his coffee. “Okay, that’s enough of that. Let’s get into the facts.”

“Hey, that’s my line!”

~

“With a missing plane and pilot and so much redaction in the files, we’re lucky to even have a name, let’s get into the theories.”

“Actually, wait, before we do that,” Bucky says, “I want to ask if you’ve ever noticed that your voice changes when you’re doing the voiceovers.”

“Wait, what?” Tony asks. He glances at him, to one of the cameras, then back to Bucky. “What do you mean?”

“You know, it gets all deeper like you’re trying to voice movie trailers or something.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Sure it does.”

Tony shakes his head. “There’s no way.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Told you!” Bucky says triumphantly.

“You’re such a child,” Tony sneers.

“Yeah, that’s why you like working with me so much.”

Behind the camera, Sam silently snickers and Tony glares at him before telling the camera, “If you’re watching, let us know in the comments. Is my apparent movie trailer voice okay or does it need to go like Bucky clearly thinks?”

Bucky goes paler. “Hey, wait, I didn’t say it had to go.”

“It was implied when you brought it up,” he argues.

“No!” Bucky insists. “I was just wondering if it was on purpose.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Aha!” Tony says triumphantly.

“Traitor,” Bucky mutters into his coffee.

Sam signs, “I’ll make it up to you when we get home tonight.”

“And that was more than I ever wanted to learn about Sam and Bucky’s love life,” Tony lies through his teeth. “Let’s get into the theories. I only have two for you today, one of which I think Bucky will particularly like.”

“Oh no.”

“Our first theory is that Steve Rogers died in a plane crash on December 16, 1944. Winter months in the Arctic are known to be particularly stormy. There would have been low visibility due to the high latitude and time of year and with the waters and surrounding land being well below freezing, it’s possible that, even if Captain Rogers survived the impact, he would have frozen to death in the stormy seas.”

Bucky thinks about it for a second. “Yeah, that seems plausible.”

“In addition, Howard Stark, a known Captain America aficionado and the father of Marvels Unsolved’s best host—”

“You lie like a rug!” Bucky howls.

Tony snickers and then when Sam signs, “He’s really not,” bursts out into full-out laughter.

Once he’s recovered, he continues, “Howard Stark has spent the first fifty years after the crash of the Valkyrie and the last twenty funding searches in the Arctic in the hopes of recovering Captain Rogers’ body. He has found no evidence that Captain Rogers survived the crash although he did find part of the remains of the Valkyrie and has since stated that, ‘No human could have survived that crash.’”

The expeditions are a scam and have been since Howard first found the Valkyrie crash site and Uncle Steve along with it. He hadn’t been planning on continuing the expeditions—too costly, as he claims—but when Aunt Peggy had told him that Uncle Steve’s survival had to remain a secret, he’d kept them up for pretense’s sake.

Bucky is saying something about how it sucks that the first superhero is gone and when he finishes, Tony grins and says, “Then you’ll like our second theory.”

“Somehow, every time you say that, I end up completely hating it. Wonder why that is.”

“Our second theory is that Steve Rogers survived the crash and is still alive but cryogenically frozen in the ice. There—”

“Bullshit!”

Tony starts laughing but he tries to continue on over Bucky shouting that it’s complete nonsense. It’s hard and he knows that Sam will probably have to do some editing and maybe make Tony do some voiceover work in order to make the theory audible but he thinks he manages to do a pretty good job.

Bucky is pouting by the end of it, arms crossed over his chest. “What fucking bullshit,” he mutters.

“The supersoldier serum—” Tony starts to point out.

“Isn’t a miracle drug.”

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“No, it just made him big and strong. It doesn’t just magically keep people alive when they should have died.”

And then they’re off into familiar territory, arguing about the merits of either theory. Tony’s actually feeling pretty good about himself, convinced that he’s doing a decent job of steering the conversation away of anything classified, right up until Bucky says, about halfway through the episode, “I’m surprised at you, Tony.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Surprised?”

“Usually, you have some absolutely batshit, off-the-walls crazy theory but these have actually been pretty normal for you.” He pauses and then adds for effect, “And you’re usually much better at your research than this.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on, even I know that there’s one more theory.”

He starts tapping at his chest nervously, almost wishing that he had a pair of sunglasses. Aunt Peggy always said that his lies are in his eyes, that they’re too expressive to hide the truth. When he was living with Howard, in the spotlight, he always had a pair of sunglasses to hide his eyes but he hasn’t wanted to use those since he moved out. He wishes he had them now.

“And what’s that?” he asks, feigning a casualness he doesn’t feel.

“That Steve Rogers lived and came out of the ice at some point and has been living out his life in anonymity.”

He barks out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t mention it because even I know that that theory is completely impossible.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.” Sam nods agreeably. Bucky nods back at him and adds, “Even Sam agrees with me.”

“He’s your boyfriend, he’s practically required to.”

Both Sam and Bucky laugh at that one and yeah, okay, it was a pretty ridiculous statement. Anyone who knows them knows that being boyfriends is less likely to make them agree with each other.

“Look, Steve Rogers didn’t come out of the ice alive. Howard would have known for one thing and if you think, he could keep something like that quiet, then you don’t know him very well.”

“Maybe the government insisted it be a secret,” Bucky suggests, shrugging. “There have been plenty of people who have claimed over the last couple decades to be Captain America.”

Tony scoffs. “Oh come on, by that logic, anyone could be Captain America.”

“Maybe they could be.”

“No,” Tony says flatly. “It’s like that crazy conspiracy theory guy over on Reddit who’s convinced that Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Maybe Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Ooh do the butts match?” Tony says mockingly. “I mean, really, Bucky Babe, if we’re going off of lookalikes, then my fucking Uncle Steve is secretly really Steve Rogers, which is ridiculous because the guy’s like practically ancient and faints at the sight of blood in PG-13 movies.”

That sets off another round of arguing that lasts the rest of the episode until finally Tony wraps it up with, “Whether Steve Rogers died in 1944 or is still alive today is a mystery that will remain unsolved.”

They both pause for a moment to provide time for Sam to edit in the theme music and closing title. Usually, there would be some lighthearted bantering afterwards, maybe a joke about something they said earlier in the show. This time though, Bucky says thoughtfully, “The thing is, though, I’ve met your Uncle Steve—”

Tony goes cold.

“—and he really does kind of look like—”

Tony panics. That’s the only explanation that he has for declaring, “I’m done waiting,” reaching across the tables and grabbing hold of Bucky’s shirt, and yanking him forward to kiss him.

For a moment, Bucky is too startled to do anything but then he melts into Tony, mouth opening under his, tongue pushing forward to meet his. Bucky’s arms come around him, pulling him up and out of his chair and settling him into his lap. Tony makes a small greedy sound, swallowed by Bucky’s kiss, and then they’re both pulling away. Bucky’s lips are very red; Tony can’t stop staring at them even as he’s filled with dismay.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Why not?” Bucky demands.

“You—Sam—” He glances toward the camera but Sam isn’t standing there anymore. His heart drops into his stomach—has he just ruined Bucky and Sam’s relationship? But then he hears someone drop to their knees behind him and when he turns slightly, Sam’s fingers are on his chin, gently turning his head.

“How long?” Sam asks.

“How long what?”

“How long have we been wasting our time when we could have been kissing you instead?”

Three years, two months, and fifteen days. “Too long.”

Sam kisses him then, mouth gentler than Bucky’s but no less consuming. Bucky is a hard, hot line against his front; Sam is warm against his back and Tony? Tony loses himself in the storm that is the two of them, sparks shooting through him as Bucky’s hands find their way to his hips, as Sam’s tongue slips into his mouth, as Bucky whispers into his ear, “We’re not wasting any more time.”

~

Marvels Unsolved’s 100th episode shoots to their most watched, most liked video in less than a day and when asked, maybe the smallest handful of viewers could have said what it was about.

The day after it posts, only a week after it was filmed, Tony’s phone rings.

“Kill it with fire,” Sam says sleepily.

Tony, however, recognizes Aunt Peggy’s ringtone and he rolls over to grab it before Bucky can throw it at the wall. “Hello?” he asks groggily.

“Congratulations on not blowing Steve’s cover,” she says.

“Oh yeah,” Tony mutters. “Can I go back to bed now?”

“One more thing, duck.”

“What’s that?”

“Congratulations on the new boyfriends.”

[miraculousamara]

I got a story idea earlier today, I posted two chapters on my wattpad today. Basically it's a story idea where Chloe has a twin sister. But the twin is actually nicer than Chloe and only does what Chloe tells her because she makes her. This is Stoneheart Orgins Part 2.Because of text limit I'll add two parts. If anyone has any questions about missing plot points you can just comment or I might post the first chapter. Also Chloe and Cameron aren't identical twins, they have the same hair color, but they have different eye color, they are fraternal twins even though they are the same gender. (If I got any facts about twins wrong please tell me.my mother is an identical twin so I don't really know much about fraternal twins as I've only met one set)

Cameron's POV:

On the TV:

Nadja: (standing to the side of a picture of one of Stoneheart's minions, tablet in hand) The stone beings are scattered all over Paris, and for the time being, they are showing no signs of movement. (a variety of pictures is shown) Police have cordoned off the area.

Father: (on television alongside officer Roger) We won't stop until we find a way to get these people back to their normal selves, but for now, we're not making much headway.

(The camera flips backs to Nadja standing next to a photo of Ladybug and Cat Noir.)

Nadja: Paris is relying on our new guardian angels, Ladybug and Cat Noir, to save us all. Our lives depend on them.

I'm going to go to bed for the night.. I just hope tomorrow will be better.

Ladybug and Cat Noir.. I believe in you. I trust you. I know you can save us.

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

Morning

I better get dressed before Chloe complains..

"Cameron! I set out your clothes!" I hear Chloe call out.

"Oh yay. What would I do without you?" I say sarcastically

"You would do nothing without me, because I always outshine you." Chloe says

"I'm just gonna get dressed." I groan

I rush downstairs to the hall and am the first to see father.

"Hey dad." I say

"Cameron. Are you okay? You're not scared about everything going on right?" He asks

"No father, I trust you, Ladybug and Cat Noir. I know they will save us." I say

"Thank you sweetie, I'll do everything in my power to keep you and your sister safe." He says

"I know you will." I say giving him a hug.

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

A few minutes later..

Chloe comes downstairs.

"Hey is Jean whatever his name is ready with the car?" Chloe asks

"Yes, and remember to be safe dear." Dad says

"Yeah whatever. Come on Cameron!" Chloe says

I follow after Chloe and get in the limo.

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

In the limo

"And you better remember what we talked about last night." Chloe says

"Of course Chloe." I say

I forgot to write in my diary about the whole Stoneheart thing last night, but I guess I can do it later today. When Chloe isn't bothering me.

----

"Okay we're here." Chloe says

We exit the limo, greet Sabrina and enter the school.

"Woah look, it's Ivan." I say to Chloe.

"Let's go and see what the crowd around him wants." Chloe says with a suspicious looking smirk.

Oh no.. she's up to no good. She never is.

Especially when that look overtakes her facial expression.But I can't do anything no matter what she does... She warned me what will happen if I mess up again today. I just hope that she decides to be not so harsh for once, but the likelihood of that happening is slim to none unfortunately.

We walk over to the group.

"So you don't remember anything that happened? Alix asks Ivan.

"You were going ballistic! It was so cool!" Says Juleka.

"You were gonna crush me or something!" Says Kim

"I'm so sorry,  I wasn't myself." Ivan says

"I'm sure Ivan didn't mean to-" I start

Chloe Elbows me.

"What did we just talk about Cameron?" Chloe asks

"Oh right sorry. " I say sadly

"Once a monster, always a monster!" Chloe says

Ivan growls and storms off.

"Oh and don't let the door hit you on the way out!" Chloe says laughing

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

Third Person POV:

(I TOOK THIS FROM THE TRANSCRIPT AGAIN)

Scene: Hawk Moth's lair.

Hawk Moth: Yes… feel the burn of those words. Lose your temper, Ivan! Your akuma awaits you. (taps on the cane that is holding the akuma)

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

Cameron's POV:

"How could you say such horrible things to Ivan? You're the real Stoneheart!" Alya yells at Chloe

"Yeah, I'm the one who broke Sabrina's dad's arm.Back me up Cameron." Chloe says

"Just because you got that dumb footage of those superheroes doesn't mean you should get all high and mighty." I say

Chloe laughs and blows a bubble in Alya's face.

I do feel bad for what I said, but if Chloe ever catches me apologizing, it will be the end of me.

"Ugh! You little brats!" Alya starts

"Look everyone! She's angry! She's gonna split her underwear and turn into a huge muscly monster!" Chloe says

Alya growls and storms off.

Suddenly I see Adrien appear and wave to us.

"Hey Chloe, hey Cameron!" Adrien says

"Hi Adrien." I say

"Adrikins! You came!" Chloe says running over to him to hug him

I see a bunch of people who recognize him start to gush over him.

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

"Isn't it amazing that you, me and my twin sister are all in the same class?!" Says Chloe

"Yeah, it is, I already have two people I know." Adrien says with a smile.

"Wow you look a lot like your mother." I say in awe.

"What?" He asks

"She said nothing." Chloe says while glaring at me.

"Cameron?" He asks

"Yeah, Chloe's right. I said nothing." I say

"One more slip up Cameron." She threatens

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again." I say

"Yeah, it better not." She says

I could've sworn Adrien passed a shocked look at Chloe, but that could be me just hoping someone heard her for once.

As we enter the classroom and Adrien finishes giving random people his autograph, Chloe rushes in front of us.

"Look Adrikins! I saved you a seat right in front of me!" Chloe says

"Thanks Chloe." Adrien says sitting next to Nino.

I sit in my seat behind Sabrina.

"Hi." Adrien says looking at Nino

"So you're friends with Chloe and Cameron?" Nino asks suspiciously

I feel bad for him anyway..

Suddenly I hear Adrien making an issue of something, I turn around and see Chloe and Sabrina putting gum on Marinette's seat.

"Woah, what are you doing?" Adrien asks

"The brats who sat here yesterday need some attitude adjustment, so I'm gonna teach it to them." Chloe says

Adrien gets up.

"I really don't think that's necessary." Adrien says

"Adrikins, no offense but you have a whole lot to learn about school culture." She says

"Didn't you already insult Alya in the hall?" I ask outloud on accident.

"Cameron what was that?" Chloe asks threateningly

"Nothing important." I say

"That's what I thought." She says

I look at the top of my desk sadly.

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

Suddenly I hear the familiar voice of Marinette shout.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" I hear her say.

I look up and see Adrien picking at the gum on Marinette's seat.

Oh poor Adrien..

"Um-" he says

Chloe and Sabrina laugh.

Chloe glares at me for not laughing, so I just go along with it.

"Haha so funny you four." Marinette says

"Wait, I was just trying to get it off!" Adrien says

"Sure you were." Marinette says

Chloe and Sabrina keep laughing.

"Ugh, you're friends with the terrible two huh?" She asks

Honestly I don't blame her for that comment, but it still hurts everytime someone compares me to Chloe.

"Why do people keep saying that?" I hear Adrien quietly and sadly ask.

Marinette covers her seat with a tissue, and the two sit down

"See what I mean about respect?" Chloe asks

Adrien sadly sighs.

"Hey where's Ivan?" I ask

"How should I know where that brute is?" Chloe asks

"Why didn't you tell them that it was 'The Terrible Two's' idea?" I hear Nino ask

"I've known Chloe and Cameron since I was little... and while they may not be perfect, I can't throw them under the bus, they're my only friends. And I'm starting to think Cameron might not really have much to do with Chloe's plans.." I hear Adrien say.

He's the first person who has ever said anything nice like that about me..

"The terrible two are a package deal my man.. but I'm Nino, and it's about time you made some new friends." I hear him say

He deserves good friends. I wish I was allowed to have friends...

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

Third Person POV:

(FROM THE TRANSCRIPT)

Scene: Hawk Moth's lair.

Hawk Moth: Yes. This is what I've been waiting for. You know the way, evil akuma. Track down your prey! Fly away and evilize him!

(The akuma held in Hawk Moth's cane exits it and flies out the window.)

-----

Scene: The locker room. Ivan is upset. The akuma flies in and infects Ivan's wadded-up song lyrics.

Hawk Moth: (from his lair) This is your second chance, Stoneheart, and this time you have extra help. No one will stop you from capturing the love of your life. Just remember, I'll need something in return.

(Ivan is akumatized into Stoneheart again. He opens his eyes and all the other stone beings across Paris start waking up.)

I'll link the rest of this chapter when I post the rest of it.

[musette22]

Body Politics

Read on AO3

Paring: Chris Evans x Sebastian Stan (Evanstan)

Word count: 9.4k

Rating: E (so 18+ only please!)

A/N: Okaayyy! So it took a while, but I finally wrote the thing based on this prompt (which I unfortunately accidentally deleted, but I saved the prompt itself):"hello! I saw some pics of chris with various politicans for his new project and thought about a stucky/evanstan fic in which chris/steve wants to film a clip with a newly elected senator who turns out to be bucky/seb and chris/steve just can't deal with the hotness." 

It’s… a bit longer than I intended it to be - surprise! As always, I’ve posted it to AO3 and I’d recommend reading it there because it really is quite long (that’s what she said). Hope you enjoy the filth 💖 N.B. I know you asked for Senator Sebastian, but it seemed to fit better with the story to make him a Representative instead! Hope that’s ok!

Body Politics

Chris has done dozens of these videos by now. In fact, he did two of them just this morning. He knows the drill, he knows what he’s doing, there’s really no reason to be nervous anymore. And yet, as per usual right before he’s going in, his anxiety is peaking, causing him to feel jittery and queasy, and like he’s suddenly forgotten everything he’s supposed to know about the American political system.

God, he’s going to make a massive fool of himself. What the fuck was he thinking? Should’ve just stayed in his lane, like plenty of people told him to. He sighs at his reflection in the mirror, splashing his face with cold water in the hope it will help him focus.  

“Ready?” Mark asks him, as soon as he steps out into the hallway where Mark had been waiting for him.

“Absolutely,” Chris nods, all put on confidence and ease which he definitely isn’t feeling. “Let’s do this.”

Mark is well aware how bad Chris’s anxiety tends to get before this sort of thing, but he doesn’t comment. He knows Chris will be fine as soon as the cameras turn on and he can stop being Chris Evans, meatball and anxious mess, and start being Chris Evans, movie star and aspiring politician – or, as most people view him, real life Captain America. Chris doesn’t mind that image so much. He’s proud of what he’s done with the character and besides, Steve Rogers is a better man than he’ll ever be. Sometimes it’s a little frustrating when people seem to be more excited about meeting Cap than about what it is Chris is there to discuss with them – things that are important not only to him personally, but to the fate of the entire country. But on the flipside, his Cap persona has opened a lot of doors for him, and that makes the occasional flare of irritation more than worth it. Politicians and civil servants are just people too, after all. Well. Most of them.

Today, Chris is meeting with Democratic Representative Sebastian Stan. Stan is quite new on the Hill, and Chris was doubtful whether meeting with him would be worthwhile. But Mark had said he’d heard good things about the guy, plus he was willing to meet with them, so Chris had decided to give him a chance. Since it was all quite last minute, he hadn’t really had time to do much research on Stan and just read the notes that Mark had sent him earlier this morning. 

Chris was impressed with the guy’s resume, and despite his usual nerves he was quite looking forward to speaking with him. It was undoubtedly going to be better than interviewing some stuffy old Republican. Again. Chris is well aware that he signed up for this whole bipartisan thing himself, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t occasionally get the urge to throw hands when he hears someone like Ted Cruz or Dan Crenshaw spout their conservative bullshit.

Chris walks into the office that’s set up like a small film set: two simple folding chairs set up on a worn rug in front of some antique, mahogany cabinets, giving the appearance of nonchalant sophistication. Next to the chairs are some studio lights and reflectors, and two cameras, one behind each chair.  

Mark takes a seat on the far end of the room, there to observe and chime in if necessary, while Chris hikes up the knees of his dress pants before sits down on one of the folding chairs. He crosses his legs, tapping his pen against the papers resting on his knee while they wait for Representative Stan to arrive.

After a minute or two, the door behind Chris opens, and he gets up, ready to greet the Representative. He turns with a smile, which freezes on his face as he comes face to face with the guy he’s supposed to be interviewing.

Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

The thought flits through Chris’s mind, unbidden and very, very inappropriate, under the circumstances.

It’s true, though. Standing before him, wide smile on his face and his hand held out expectantly, is a man who wouldn’t have looked out of place on the kind of red carpet that Chris frequently finds himself on, too. Chris’s body moves on autopilot, greeting Stan and shaking his hand, while his brain produces nothing but static, helplessly stuck on a litany of holy shit he’s gorgeous what do I do what do I say.

Representative Stan is dressed in a perfectly tailored, aubergine suit, his chestnut hair slicked back in a way that could’ve seemed skeevy, but instead looks sleek and sophisticated. His steel-blue eyes are bright and intelligent, but there’s a glimmer of something almost mischievous in them, too – as if Stan knows something Chris doesn’t and he may choose to waylay him any minute. Stan’s jawline and cheekbones could cut glass, and his mouth… Chris has to make a conscious effort to look away from his mouth, or this could get really awkward really fast.

It’s only when both of them have taken place on their respective folding chairs and Gino, their camera guy, asks them if they’re good to go, that Chris’s brain decides to cooperate again. Not fully, but just enough to be able to focus on the questions he knows he needs to ask. He clears his throat and plasters on a smile, hoping fervently that he at least outwardly appeared like he knew what he was doing while he was inwardly busy having a melt down over a pretty boy.

He shakes himself. It isn’t just a pretty boy. Sebastian Stan is a United States Representative. One who is now looking at him expectantly from the chair opposite, ready to answer Chris’s questions about healthcare for all, gun control and gerrymandering.

Oh, Christ.

Stealing himself, Chris nods at Gino, signaling for him to turn on the cameras. He takes a deep breath, and starts.

“Representative Stan, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so much for sitting down with us today and for agreeing to answer some of my questions.”

“Please, call me Sebastian,” Stan replies, smiling. “And the pleasure is all mine.”

Chris swallows, trying hard not to get stuck on the word pleasure or the way Sebastian’s slight New York drawl sounds coming from that beautiful mouth, and asks his first question. “Sebastian. Could you tell me, in sixty seconds, what your stance is on gun control?”

---

Representative Stan’s – Sebastian’s – answers are all incredibly thoughtful yet to the point, and with every reply Chris feels himself sinking deeper and deeper into a state of despair. He’s pretty and he shares Chris’s opinions on basically everything? This guy is trouble. Heaps of it.

When Chris asks question four, he almost falters when he thinks he catches Sebastian looking him up and down, gaze lingering for a moment on his hands and shoulders. But surely that’s just wishful thinking? Just in case, Chris quickly checks Sebastian’s left hand: no ring. When he meets Sebastian’s eyes again, the corner of his mouth ticks up into a hint of a smirk, as if he knows exactly what Chris was doing.

Immediately, Chris feels his cheeks heat up. Not for the first time in his adult life he’s grateful for the fact that his beard covers most of his face. He clears his throat again and sits up straighter, trying to appear as if he’s listening intently to Sebastian’s next reply instead of freaking out about the possibility that Sebastian might be interested back. Just the idea makes Chris feel too hot under the lights suddenly, his collar too tight around his neck.

He holds it together relatively well for the remainder of the interview, only tripping up and staring at Sebastian’s mouth as he talks maybe two or three times, and honestly, he kind of feels like he deserves some kind of medal for that. When his final question, regarding constituencies, has been answered, Chris represses the urge to sigh in relief. As soon as the cameras turn off, he reaches up to loosen his tie just a tad, needing to get some air.

And, lo and behold, Sebastian’s gaze tracks the movement, before settling on Chris’s mouth for just a moment. A thrill of excitement runs through Chris’s body, head to toe. Is he reading this right? Fuck, he hopes he’s reading this right.

“Thank you, Sebastian,” Chris says, standing up and watching Sebastian do the same. “This was all very interesting. It’ll be a valuable contribution to A Starting Point, I’m sure.”

“Not a problem,” Sebastian replies pleasantly. “It’s been very” – he pauses to lick his lips, not breaking eye contact – “enlightening.”

Oh, boy.

Chris holds out his hand again and Sebastian takes it. There’s no mistaking it now: the handshake lasts too long for it to be entirely professional and there is definitely more eye contact than necessary. Chris’s heart is beating in his throat by the time he finally pulls his hand back, daring to subtly let his fingers brush Sebastian’s wrist. He watches in satisfaction as Sebastian’s eyes darken a fraction, a spark of heat flashing through them before he smiles pleasantly again and turns around to thank Gino and Mark.

Chris internally slaps himself in the face. Jesus, this is such an inconvenient time and place to develop a crush on someone. Still, he already knows he’s helpless against Sebastian’s charm and he’ll probably spend the next few weeks or so pathetically (and unethically) watching the footage they just shot and daydreaming about all the things he wish he could’ve done to him. It’s just not fair for someone so smart and dedicated to also be this hot.

When Sebastian turns to him again, Chris valiantly pretends he’s not in the middle of a mental breakdown and gives him a smile.

“So, Chris,” Sebastian starts, pensively rubbing his chin. “Can I call you Chris?”

“Of course,” Chris hastens to assure him. “I’m just regular old Chris.” Regular old Chris? Pathetic.

“Okay then,” Sebastian replies, and his eyes are dancing. “Chris it is. So, I’m sure you’re busy, but I’d love to pick your brain on something. I wonder if you have a moment?”

Well, damn. Maybe Chris won’t just be daydreaming after all.

Chris nervously rubs the back of his neck. “Sure, yeah. No problem. You were my last interview for the day anyway, so I’ve got time.” He looks at Mark, who’s standing over by the doorway. “Are you okay going ahead without me? I’m not sure how long this will take so there’s not need to wait around for me, I guess.”

Mark, who, unlike Chris, is not an idiot, looks far too knowing. “Absolutely. You take your time, Chris. Do what needs to be done, and all that,” he grins. “I’m gonna head back to the hotel, got plenty of work to be catching up with. I’ll see you later.” Turning to Sebastian, Mark adds, “It was a pleasure meeting you. Take care. Be safe.”

“Yes, sir,” Sebastian replies, giving Mark a playful wink.

Mark turns to smirk at Chris one more time before he grabs his briefcase and heads out the door behind Gino and his assistant, leaving Chris and Sebastian by themselves. The sudden silence is a little stifling, and Chris is the first to break it.

“So…” he says, like an idiot.

Sebastian inclines his head with a smile. “So,” he replies, looking back up at Chris from under his eyelashes. “My office is a little further down the hall, if you want to follow me. It’s not much, but at least it offers better seating than a couple of folding chairs.”

Chris laughs, a little louder than the comment warrants, but he’s nervous, okay? He’s not sure where this afternoon will take him, but he sure hopes he’s not reading this wrong and Sebastian isn’t going to break out some official documents for them to discuss the moment they step into his office.

Sebastian leads the way through a maze of corridors, occasionally raising a hand in greeting while Chris tries to keep his head down. He doesn’t mind being recognized or stopped, usually, but he’d rather not have to chat to some random stranger while he’s on his way to what is potentially a really hot and really inappropriate hookup. He gets a few looks, but he keeps his gaze fixed on Sebastian’s back, and fortunately it isn’t long before Sebastian opens a door on the left hand of the corridor, gesturing Chris inside.  

It’s just a normal Capitol Hill office; not too big, all white walls and dark wooden furniture that’s seen better days but that still does the trick. The window looks out onto a lawn, high enough up to ensure no one is able to see inside when they look up on their lunchbreak walk. Sebastian’s desk is littered with papers, most of them organized into neat piles and held down by paperweights. A man after Chris’s own heart.

The door closes behind them with an audible click, and Chris stills. His instincts tell him to fill the silence with mindless chatter, but he knows he’s likely to say something embarrassing that could well end up jeopardizing this whole rendezvous. So he bites his tongue, and waits for Sebastian to speak first.

Sebastian takes his sweet time – whether because he doesn’t know what to say either or to rile him up, Chris isn’t sure.

“Take a seat,” he says eventually, gesturing to the sturdy, armless chair in the middle of the room, about two yards between it and the wooden desk near the window. Chris, starting to wonder if this is going to be just business after all, does as he’s told, expecting Sebastian to take place behind his desk.

Sebastian doesn’t. Instead, he perches on the edge of his desk, one foot on the ground and crossing his wrists on his left knee. Chris is having flashbacks to being called into the principal’s office, only much, much better.

“I really do admire your initiative and ambitions with this website,” Sebastian says, sounding genuine. “It’s always a risk for someone from the entertainment industry to venture into politics and usually I’d say it’s not a great idea.” He pauses, and Chris fights the urge to squirm in his seat. “But then, usually,” Sebastian continues, “people are after some kind of power or influence, whereas you’re concerned with making sure people are informed enough to vote, and vote wisely. I think that’s a very admirable aspiration.”

Chris sends Sebastian a grateful smile. “Thank you. A lot of people think I’m just sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong and I should stick to acting, but I care deeply about these issues. My career has afforded me a platform, an opportunity to make my voice heard, and I can’t not use that opportunity to try and make a difference.”

“That’s exactly it,” Sebastian agrees. “Sure, you’ve got a famous face and name, but you’re not taking advantage of it. You’re using it to do some good. And, um –” He pauses, biting his lower lip around a smile and tilting his head a little to the left, before finishing, “Well, let’s just say I think that’s very sexy of you.”

Chris barks out a surprised laugh. “Glad to hear it, Rep- Sebastian,” he corrects himself. Gathering his courage, he deliberately, slowly lets his gaze sweep Sebastian’s form, head to toe and back again. “And as it happens,” he goes on, deciding to throw caution to the wind and just go for it, “I think you’ve got many excellent qualities yourself.”

A slow smile spreads over Sebastian’s handsome face, lighting up his features and momentarily stealing Chris’s breath away.

“That so?” Sebastian looks down at the floor for a moment, then looks back up at him through his eyelashes – to devastating effect. Chris is pretty sure he lets out a quiet gasp, his heart tripping over itself in his chest.

Jesus Christ, where is his cool when he needs it? Or his game, for that matter.

“I’ve gotta say,” Sebastian continues, head still cocked and fixing Chris with his gaze. “You’re not at all how I was expecting you to be.”

“How were you expecting me to be?”

“I don’t know.” Sebastian gives him a considering look. “Less down to earth, less likeable, more Hollywood?”

Chris huffs a laugh. “Yeah, people usually tell me I’m a little disappointing in real life. Shorter than they were expecting, not as muscly, etcetera etcetera.”

Sebastian frowns, a little wrinkle appearing on his brow that Chris immediately wants to smooth out with his thumb.

“Oh no, I don’t think you’re disappointing at all. You’ve exceeded my expectations, if anything. I figured it probably took tons of make up to make you look as dashing as you do on screen, but if anything I think you’re more handsome in real life.” Gesturing at him, Sebastian clarifies, “The beard, the waist, the shoulders – it’s… quite something.”

“Oh,” Chris says intelligently. “Thank you.” He winces. “I mean-”

“You’re cute,” Sebastian interrupts, grinning.

“I –” Chris falters again, dropping his head into his hands. “Fuck, I swear I’m usually smoother than this.” He looks back up at Sebastian a little sheepishly. “You just kinda caught me off guard. I guess you surpassed my expectations, too. I wasn’t expecting a Representative too be quite so…”

“So?” Sebastian prompts, still watching him closely.

“Gorgeous,” Chris breathes.

This time, it’s Sebastian who sucks in a breath, his eyes widening just a little. It’s small, almost imperceptible, but Chris is watching him closely so he notices. Seems Sebastian isn’t quite as unaffected by all this as he first appeared. That knowledge makes something in Chris’s chest loosen, helps him regain his footing a little.

Keeping his eyes locked with Sebastian’s, Chris slowly uncrosses his legs, planting both his feet firmly on the ground. Sebastian’s eyes drop down to Chris’s lap before they flick up to his face again. His perfectly white, straight teeth – more Hollywood than Capitol Hill – sink into his plump bottom lip, right hand dropping to his waist to casually unfasten the button on his suit jacket.

For a few seconds, neither of them speaks or moves, the tension in the room almost palpable now. Chris suppresses a shiver when Sebastian slowly gets up and walks over to him with an air of a predator approaching its prey.

Unconsciously, Chris holds his breath, then lets it out again in a rush when Sebastian plants his hands on Chris’s shoulders and proceeds to straddle his thighs, sitting down squarely in Chris’s lap.

Chris makes a sound, somewhere between surprised and helplessly turned on, his hands flying up to rest on Sebastian’s waist. “Whoa, I- okay.” He swallows nervously.

“Okay?” Sebastian checks.

Chris nods, a little too quickly to be suave, but hey, this is kind of an unusual situation.

Sebastian relaxes infinitesimally, the only sign that he’s not quite as confident here as he appears to be. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, eyes drifting over Chris’s features.

From up close, Chris can count Sebastian’s eyelashes, can see the hint of a stubble on his jawline. He’s intoxicating, and Chris doesn’t dare move an inch as he lets Sebastian study him. Finally, after he’s looked his fill, Sebastian’s gaze comes to rest on Chris’s mouth. His tongue, pink and wet, flicks out to wet his own lips, and Chris’s mouth starts to water. He aches with how much he wants to kiss that pretty, pouty mouth.

After a long, loaded moment, Sebastian leans in, his breath ghosting Chris’s lips for a second and making his heart race in anticipation, before he finally presses their mouths together.

The kiss is soft, lush, almost sweet. Chris holds his breath, his stomach flipping like he’s some kind of blushing virgin being kissed for the very first time.

Then, Sebastian makes a sound – a tiny, throaty noise that’s almost a moan but not quite, and something inside of Chris snaps. He groans, parting his lips and urging Sebastian to do the same, and then they’re kissing, hard and openmouthed. Chris slides one hand up Sebastian’s neck, burying his fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. Sebastian moans for real this time, hands smoothing over the fabric of Chris’s suit jacket, lingering on his shoulders and arms.

“Fuck,” Sebastian mutters against Chris’s mouth, squeezing his biceps. “So fucking hot.”

Chris is used to being called hot, of course. It’s inescapable in his profession. But coming from Sebastian, quite probably the sexiest man on God’s green earth, the words mean a lot more than they usually do. It emboldens him enough to wrap an arm around Sebastian’s waist and pull him closer against him, pressing their groins together briefly.

“Uh,” Sebastian hiccups, pulling back a fraction to look down at Chris. His pupils are blown already, lips reddened and spit slick, and Chris wants. He wants this man so much and he hardly even knows him.

“God, look at you,” Chris breathes, staring in something close to awe. “Pretty as a picture, sittin’ in my lap.”

Sebastian swallows, his eyelids fluttering at the compliment, and then he slowly and deliberately grinds down. Both of them groan at the friction, Chris’s own hips jerking upwards of their own accord, and Sebastian does it again, simultaneously leaning down to capture Chris’s lips in another kiss. Soon, they’ve found a sort of rhythm, their hips rolling in time with the slow, luxurious thrusts of their tongues into each other’s mouths. It’s intoxicating - the smell of Sebastian’s aftershave mingling with fresh sweat and arousal making Chris’s head swim.

Already, he’s uncomfortably hard inside his slacks, the need to rut, to seek relief, becoming almost unbearable the longer they spend slowly grinding together on that office chair.

“Sebastian.”

Sebastian hums, dragging his mouth over Chris’s cheeks before taking his earlobe between his teeth, worrying it gently. Chris makes a pitiful noise. He throws his head back automatically, inviting Sebastian to attack his exposed neck next. Licking along the tendons that stand out, Sebastian presses wet little kisses to his throat and jaw, too much and not enough at the same time. It’s like Sebastian has a map to all of Chris’s weak spots, like he’s trying to tick them off one by one until he reaches the spot marked X.

Just when Chris thinks he’s going to have to beg him for some relief, Sebastian pulls back, placing one more lush kiss on his lips before he climbs off Chris’s lap.

On instinct, Chris’s hands fly up in a gesture of surrender. “I’m sorry,” he says, panting slightly. “Did I-“

But before he can finish his sentence, Sebastian has quickly taken off his suit jacket and thrown it carelessly to the side, sinking to his knees in front of him. He pushes open Chris’s legs with a hand on either knee, a question in his eyes as he looks up at him.

“I hope you’re alright with this, because I really wanna suck you off.”

Chris does absolutely not squeak. “Yeah, I’m – I’m alright with that.”

“Excellent,” Sebastian grins, feral and beautiful. Slowly, he runs his hands up Chris’s thighs until he reaches his belt, opening it quickly and efficiently. Chris lifts his hips a little so that Sebastian can pull down his slacks just enough to reveal the bulge of his erection, the tip, red and already wet, peaking out over the waistband. Sebastian let’s out a low whistle. He reaches up to press his palm to Chris’s dick through the fabric, squeezing lightly as if to get the measure of it.

Chris inhales sharply. Somehow, Sebastian looks even better from this angle than he had before, and he watches Sebastian’s every move with lidded eyes. “C’mon,” he murmurs, hoping he’s not overstepping.

Sebastian’s eyes snap up to his face, the look in his eyes is downright predatory. “You want it?” he asks, squeezing Chris again and licking his lips.

Chris can’t help but roll his eyes a little. “You know I do, Congressman.”

“Oh, that do it for you, huh?” Sebastian sounds amused, that cheeky twinkle appearing in his eyes again that gets Chris’s pulse racing.

“You do it for me,” Chris replies honestly, reaching down to card a hand through Sebastian’s hair. “I’ll admit it’s kind of hot that you’re in politics and have a lot of the same opinions as I do. But to be honest, if you’d been working at my local gardening center, I’d still have done a double take. You’re just really fucking gorgeous, Sebastian.”

Sebastian looks at him with big, round eyes, his mouth hanging slightly open. He swallows once, then licks his lips. Hoarsely, he asks, “How are you real?”

Before Chris has had a chance to reply, Sebastian is taking him out of his underwear, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, and taking him into his mouth. Chris groans loudly, his mind blanking out for a second at the exquisite feeling of Sebastian’s hot, wet mouth around his dick.

“Jesus, fuck.”

Sebastian pulls off for a moment, just long enough to mumble, “Language,” before he reapplies himself to his task.

Blinking through the haze of pleasure, Chris stares down at him. “Did you just..?”

Sebastian just moans around him, but his eyes are laughing. Chris can’t help it – he laughs too, out loud, the sound quickly turning into another moan when Sebastian takes him deeper still. He swallows him down, all the way into the back of his throat, making himself gag a little. Pulling back to gulp in a breath, Sebastian keeps his slick, red lips wrapped around the head, gently suckling while his hand grips him with the perfect amount of pressure as he strokes along Chris’s shaft.

Chris hopes he’s not overstepping when he brings his right hand to Sebastian’s head and slides his fingers in his thick, chestnut hair, tugging at it experimentally. If the sound Sebastian makes is anything to go by, he’s more than alright with that development. Chris curls his fingers, messing up Sebastian’s perfectly styled hair and reveling in the effect it has on him, the way it seems to make him sloppier, more desperate.

Sebastian lets him fall from his mouth for a moment to lap at his shaft, before mouthing at the base of it, burying his nose in the coarse hair there. Chris isn’t sure what it is about that particular gesture that hits him, but suddenly the urgency he feels intensifies threefold. He gives Sebastian’s hair an unsubtle tug, pulling him back down, and Sebastian happily lets himself be steered, taking Chris into his mouth once more and beginning to suck him off with renewed vigor.

Sebastian’s mouth is exquisite. Chris has never felt anything quite like it, and it’s not long before he’s a panting, delirious mess. “Oh god,” he breathes, “if you keep that up, I’m not gonna last long.”

Abruptly, Sebastian stops what he’s doing, looking up at him with slightly wild, dark eyes. A gossamer strand of saliva still connects his wet, reddened lips to Chris’s cock.

“I want you to fuck me.”

The words ring out loud and clear in the otherwise silent room, and Chris blows out a quick, steadying breath. He strokes Sebastian’s cheek, thumb trailing over his slightly puffy lower lip.

“You have no idea how much I want that,” Chris says regretfully. “No idea. But I wasn’t exactly anticipating this to happen today, if you know what I mean.”

Sebastian’s eyes light up. A moment later, he’s getting to his feet and hurrying towards the built-in cabinet near the window. Chris watches in confusion as Sebastian produces a black, leather gym bag and rummages around in there for a second, reemerging with a triumphant sound.  

“I’ve got stuff.” Sebastian sounds a little breathless as he holds up a packet of condoms and a small bottle of lube.

Chris grins, raising a single eyebrow.

“I’m a single, gay man,” Sebastian explains, rolling his eyes. “I do go out occasionally, you know. Plus I used to be a boy scout. Always be prepared, and all that.”

“Hey,” Chris says, holding up his hands. “I’m not judging.”

“You totally are,” Sebastian snorts. “You should stop that and fuck me instead. Deal?”

Oh, but Chris loves this. He loves the banter, the way the extreme sexual tension of just moments ago has shifted into something more lighthearted, though still undeniably charged. It’s been a while since he’s had anything more than a one night stand, and those typically leave little room for levity, in his experience. Usually, people are so preoccupied with the fact that they’re sleeping with Chris Evans, Captain America, and so desperate to please him, that it almost becomes a little off putting.

With Sebastian, there’s none of that. Yes, Sebastian’s clearly very attracted to him, but he doesn’t hesitate to crack a joke or make a smartass remark. Chris admires that kind of self-assuredness, that independence, if you will, while he also manages to make it clear how much he wants this.

How much he wants Chris. And the feeling, Chris thinks, as he slowly lets his eyes trail up and down Sebastian’s slightly disheveled form, his entirely mutual.

Purposely lowering his voice, Chris says, “Take off your shoes, socks and pants.”

A visible shiver runs through Sebastian at Chris’s commanding tone.

Chris smiles wolfishly. “That’s what I thought. Today please,” he adds when Sebastian doesn’t move immediately, just stands there like he’s frozen.

Sebastian jerks into action, going over to the desk where he puts down the supplies before turning back to face Chris. Slowly, he starts to toe off his shoes, which he kicks aside, followed by his socks. Chris watches intently as Sebastian’s hands drop to the buttons on his slacks, unbuttoning them one by one before hooking his thumbs in the waistband and pulling them down, past the modest swell of his ass. They fall to the floor and he steps out of them easily. Chris’s eyes glue themselves to the bulge in his dark grey briefs, where a wet spot has formed at the front. Next, he lets his gaze trail over Sebastian’s long legs, elegant and yet with firm, muscled thighs that Chris would love to feel wrapped around his waist one day. Or his head. He’s not picky.

Sebastian just stands there, letting himself be looked at, seemingly savoring the attention. Finally, he reaches up to loosen his tie, deftly pulling it off and dropping it. He starts unbuttoning his dress shirt, next, but Chris stops him after he’s opened the last one.

“That’s enough.” He goes to sit up a little straighter in his chair and beckons Sebastian closer. “Come here.”

Obeying beautifully, Sebastian walks over to him, but not before snatching the condoms and lube off the desk. He comes to stand in front of him, holding Chris’s eyes and waiting for further instructions.

“Take off your briefs.”

Sebastian lets out a shaky breath. Slowly, he slides his underwear down his legs and steps out of them. His dick isn’t too large, but it’s pretty, and makes Chris’s mouth water instantly. Reaching out, he puts his hands on Sebastian’s hips. He darts a quick glance up to his face to check if this is okay, when Sebastian just bites his lip as he looks down at him with a heated look in his slate grey eyes, Chris lowers his mouth over Sebastian’s cock.

He lets out a pleased little hum at the taste of him on his tongue, swiping it around the head to lap up the precome that’s gathered at the tip. Sebastian moans beautifully, hands resting on Chris’s shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle.

“Chris,” he breathes, letting his head fall backwards. Chris looks up at him through his lashes, marveling at how pretty Sebastian looks even from this unflattering angle. He bobs his head and sucks him off with relish, taking him down over and over, until Sebastian’s thighs start to tremble.

“Please.”

Chris pulls off with a wet sound. “Please what?” he asks, voice even rougher than it was moments before.

“I need –” Sebastian whimpers, hips jerking, and Chris thinks he knows exactly what he needs.

He sits back against the back rest and pats his lap. Sebastian takes the hint immediately and climbs on, straddling his thighs. His flushed, leaking cock presses against the front of Chris’s dress shirt, sure to leave a stain, but Chris couldn’t care less. He’s got a lap full of mostly naked Sebastian; he does not feel particularly worried about dry cleaning right now.

Chris allows himself a moment to take Sebastian in. With his flushed cheeks, and dark eyes, glossy with arousal, he’s breathtaking. His hair is mussed and his toned, tanned torso visible through the gap in his opened dress shirt. His cock is hard and flushed, the base surrounded by neatly trimmed pubic hair. Sebastian’s been biting his lips, it seems, because they look extra red – a little raw from the way his teeth have been worrying at them while Chris sucked him off. Needing to taste them more than he’s needed anything in a while, Chris leans in, wrapping an arm around Sebastian’s waist and pulling him into a deep, hungry kiss. He runs a hand along Sebastian’s long legs, which are remarkably smooth, like the rest of him. Sebastian balances a line between strong and elegant, and Chris is mesmerized by it.

“God, you’re stunning,” Chris rumbles, trailing a hand from the hollow of Sebastian’s neck all the way down his chest, abs, and then bypassing his cock to slide around to his backside. He grabs a handful of that small but perfectly formed ass and kneads it. Sebastian’s breath hitches, and Chris splays his hand over Sebastian’s tailbone before he deliberately dips his middle finger between his cheeks. When the tip of it brushes Sebastian’s smooth, tight hole, Sebastian gasps, his pupils dilating impossibly further until there’s barely anything left of the beautiful ocean blue of his irises. Their gazes lock while Chris gently teases at Sebastian’s hole with his finger, rubbing little circles there that don’t do a thing yet to loosen him up but that have Sebastian squirming in his lap nonetheless.

It takes approximately a minute of this before Sebastian breaks, whining in the back of his throat in a way that Chris is pretty sure is unintentional.

“What is it, baby?” The endearment is out before Chris can check himself, but the way Sebastian shivers against him shows he doesn’t exactly seem to mind it. “You need something?”

“Yes,” Sebastian breathes.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Want your fingers in me,” Sebastian answers instantly, though the way his voice trembles tells Chris it’s harder for him to say it than he’s trying to make it appear. “Please.”

“Anything you need, baby,” Chris assures him, leaning in to steal a kiss.

He takes the lube from Sebastian’s clenched fist, popping open the lid and reluctantly drawing his hand back from Sebastian’s ass to coat his fingers in the stuff. They’re back a moment later though, slick fingers rubbing over Sebastian’s hole with intent, before he starts to work the tip of his forefinger slowly inside. Sebastian sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as Chris slowly slides his finger in deeper, his mind bombarding him with signals of hot, tight, wet that go straight to his already rock-hard cock.

He can’t wait to be inside Sebastian, but first, he needs to make sure he does a thorough job opening him up. The last thing Chris wants to do is hurt him. In fact, he’s already ready to fight anyone who ever hurt Sebastian in the past or is planning to in the future, and he’s rather not have to kick his own ass.

“More,” Sebastian demands. His tongue darts out to lick his own lips, and Chris’s cock twitches at the sight. Lining up a second finger next to the first, he slowly presses it in as well, carefully stretching Sebastian’s tight entrance, readying it for his cock. Just that thought alone is enough to make Chris’s brain short-circuit for a second. Sebastian rests his forehead against Chris’s, his breathing picking up, but it doesn’t sound like he’s uncomfortable. So Chris doesn’t stop, instead slightly spreading his fingers to gently pry him open further.

“You’ve got – big fingers,” Sebastian pants, rocking back on them just a little.

“Sorry,” Chris says guiltily.

“No – ah. That’s, that’s really not a bad thing.”

Chris smirks. “I see. You want more?”

“Yes, please,” Sebastian breathes, the last word fading into a moan when Chris adds a third finger to the first two.

“There’s a good boy,” Chris says, kissing Sebastian’s cheek almost sweetly. “Asking for it so nicely.”

Sebastian sighs contently, melting a little further against him. Slowly, Chris starts to slide his fingers in and out while Sebastian’s fingers dig hard into Chris’s biceps. Since Chris knows sometimes the discomfort of the initial stretch can cause an erection to flag, he brings his left hand to Sebastian’s cock to stroke it tightly, just until Sebastian’s eyelids start fluttering from pleasure instead of tension.

Chris keeps him on the edge for a while, aware that he’s probably done enough to prepare him, but unable to stop staring at Sebastian, where he’s open and wanton and beautiful in his lap. It’s only when Sebastian whimpers and buries his face in Chris’s neck, breath hot and moist on his skin, that Chris remembers he’s working towards something here.

“Shhh,” he coos, rubbing Sebastian’s smooth back with his free hand. “It’s alright. I’m gonna give you what you need, okay?”

Sebastian nods shakily, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Chris’s throat.

“Please,” he pleads, somewhere between sweetly and desperately, and Chris’s heart does a funny thing inside his chest. He has to kiss Sebastian again then, deep and slow and consuming, swallowing his beautiful moans as he crooks his fingers inside of him to makes him cry out softly into his mouth.

Finally, Chris makes himself pull back, pulling out his fingers and wiping them on the bottom of his own shirt.

“Okay,” he says, feeling a little unmoored and shaky himself. “Alright, stand up for me, honey.”

Sebastian does, climbing off Chris’s lap, and standing there on slightly unsteady legs, like a baby deer, waiting to be told what to do next.

“Take off the shirt and bend over the desk.”

It’s an order, but Chris watches Sebastian’s face carefully so see his reaction, ready to propose something else if he isn’t comfortable with this. He needn’t have worried. Sebastian instantly turns around, all but ripping off his shirt and then pushing aside some of the papers on his desk before bending over it. He keeps his legs straight, making his ass stick up in the air a bit as he presents himself for Chris’s hungry gaze.

For a moment, Chris can’t believe his luck. He came here today with a purpose; to work on his project, his brain child that he cares about a lot, and it had gone well, and that was all Chris has hoped for from today. To find himself in this position now, with the most attractive man he’s ever seen laid out before him like some sort of fata morgana, patiently waiting for Chris to fuck him stupid, that’s something he could never have anticipated. It’s better than anything he could have dreamed up.

“Jesus,” he says out loud, too caught up in his feelings to have much of a brain to mouth filter left. “I can’t believe I got this lucky. Look at you.”  

“Chris,” Sebastian says, sounding a little impatient now. Which makes sense, considering he’s naked in his office on Capitol Hill, draped over his own desk, while some actor guy with his pants open watches him from a chair.

Chris shakes himself and finally gets up. Taking off his suit jacket, he drapes it over the back of the chair, and calmly turns around. He walks closer but still doesn’t touch Sebastian, just stops a few feet away. Something tells him that despite Sebastian’s impatience, he probably quite likes being on display like this. Feeling bold, Chris decides to take it a step further and test him a little.

“Show me,” he says.

Sebastian goes still. “What?”

“You heard me,” Chris repeats calmly. “Show me.”

Chris thinks he hears Sebastian murmur a curse, but then he lifts his arms and brings them to his ass, grabbing his cheeks and parting them, spreading himself open for Chris’s inspection. Chris can’t help the soft groan that escapes him at the sight. Reaching out, he smooths his palm over Sebastian’s lower back, then over the curve at the top of his ass, thumbing him open a little bit further.

“Fuck, that’s pretty.”

And it is. Sebastian’s pink hole is wet and slightly relaxed with how long Chris just spent fingering him. It makes Chris’s mouth water. He briefly entertains the thought of eating him out, but then Sebastian makes another impatient noise, wiggling his ass a little.

“Come on,” he pleads. “Do it, Chris. Just- please.”

A new wave of arousal washes through him, fast and strong, making him feel a little lightheaded.

“Okay, yes, I’m – Fuck. Just one second.” Chris doubles back for the lube, then grabs a condom and prepares himself as quickly as he can with his shaky, fumbling fingers. He positions himself behind Sebastian, his clothed thighs pressing into the back of Sebastian’s bare ones. With his left hand, he grips Sebastian’s hip as the other lines up his cock, resting the tip against his entrance.

“Please,” Sebastian repeats, sounding more desperate than ever, and then Chris is pushing forward, slowly sliding into the warm, welcoming heat of Sebastian’s body.

He grits his teeth to stop himself from moaning too loudly. Despite the thorough preparation, Chris’s brain whites out for a minute at how tight Sebastian feels around him because of his muscles clenching instinctively at the intrusion. Sebastian is making aborted little noises that could be pleasure or pain, and once Chris’s brain comes back online enough to register them, he leans down over Sebastian’s back to press a kiss to his spine as he fully bottoms out. He stays there for a moment, trying to keep his breathing even and kissing up on Sebastian some more in an attempt to distract or comfort him, whatever it is he needs.

But it must not be as bad as Chris thought, because it’s only a couple of seconds before Sebastian starts to push back against him.

“I’m good,” he says hoarsely, “you can move now.”

“Oh, thank god,” Chris sighs. He pushes himself back up to his full height and draws out a few inches, groaning at the drag of Sebastian’s inner walls around his cock before pushing back in. He means to go slow, to let Sebastian adjust, but it feels so good that he can’t help but slide in deep and stay there for a moment, drawing tight little circles with his hips that have Sebastian shuddering below him.

Unable to help himself, Chris pulls back and snaps his hips forward again forcefully, burying himself deeper into Sebastian’s welcoming heat. Judging by the sound Sebastian lets out, he does not mind. In fact, as Chris starts pumping his hips and driving into Sebastian over and over again, Sebastian starts to become louder and louder, moans and curses falling freely from his lips.

Chris adores every single sound Sebastian makes as he lays into him, but part of him is still conscious of the fact that they’re at Sebastian’s place of work. The door may be locked – at least, he hopes it is – but he doubts the room is soundproof, and he’d never forgive himself if their little tryst ended up jeopardizing Sebastian’s job or reputation in any way. Since Sebastian doesn’t respond to Chris’s pleas to keep it down, Chris doesn’t see any other option than to bend forward and put his hand over Sebastian’s mouth, muffling his cries.

“I’m sorry,” he says, genuinely regretful. “If we’d been somewhere private I’d’ve let you be as loud as you want, sweetheart. But this is your office. We don’t want anyone to hear us, do we?”

Sebastian moans in a way that Chris thinks could mean that he in fact does want everyone to hear them, but while that may be true in the moment, Chris is pretty sure Sebastian would regret it hugely after everything was said and done and the whole wing knew of their sexcapades. So he keeps his hand where it is, even if it impedes his freedom of movement a bit.

When he feels Sebastian lick at his palm, Chris’s first thought is he’s just being a brat, but when he does it again, Chris takes the hint. He takes his hand off Sebastian’s mouth and puts his fingers to his lips. Sebastian immediately takes them into his mouth, lips closing around them as he suckles them like he’d sucked on Chris’s dick before, making content little noises.

“Oh, baby,” Chris groans, rolling his hips again as he feeds Sebastian his cock and his fingers at the same time. “You just needed something to suck on, huh? Being fucked not enough for you? You wish you had my cock in your mouth, too?”

Sebastian whines around his fingers, and Chris rewards him with an extra forceful thrust that has Sebastian scrambling for purchase on the edges of his desk.

Just so he can draw this out as long as he can, Chris takes it down a notch, slowing until he’s just leisurely sliding in and out, making his strokes long and deep and getting Sebastian to sigh in pleasure below him. Part of Chris wishes he could just stop time right here, stay suspended in this moment in time forever, buried inside in the most stunning man he’s ever had. Not that he’s had all that many men. He’s definitely bisexual, but he tends to lean towards women a little bit more – at least, he thought he did.

Being here now, with Sebastian, he genuinely can’t imagine wanting anything else ever again. Which is… something to be examined closer when he’s not balls deep, perhaps. To stop his mind from overthinking, Chris changes their positions, pulling his fingers from Sebastian’s mouth and ignoring his protests. He pulls him upright by the shoulders, plastering his clothed chest to Sebastian’s naked back.

“Oh,” Sebastian breathes, lifting his hands to grab at the arm that Chris wraps around his chest.

Chris buries his face in Sebastian’s neck, dragging his lips and beard over the sensitive skin until Sebastian is squirming against him. Chris groans in Sebastian’s ear, tongue darting out to lick around the shell.

“You feel so good around me, sugar,” he praises, free hand dropping down to press Sebastian’s leaking erection against his belly. “You feeling good, too?”

Sebastian shudders against him, clearly torn between whether to press back or push forward into Chris’s hand. “Please, please, can I-”

Chris hums, shaking his head. “Sorry, honey. Not yet.” He slides his hand down from Sebastian’s clavicle to his pectoral, flicking experimentally at his left nipple with his thumb.

“No, no, unnghh,” Sebastian moans, letting his head fall back against Chris’s shoulders.

“Ohh,” Chris chuckles, charmed. “Sensitive, huh? How’s it feel when I touch ‘em? Feel good?” Not waiting for Sebastian’s reply, Chris takes the hard little nub between his thumb and forefinger and tweaks it lightly.

“Oh fuck,” Sebastian curses, jolting like he’s electrocuted, before panting, “Do that again.”

Chris doesn’t have it in him to deny Sebastian anything right now, so he repeats the movement and tries not to come on the spot from the way Sebastian’s ass tightens around him when he does. In his experience, most guys’ nipples aren’t all that sensitive, but from Sebastian’s reactions, is sure seems like he’s a nipple kinda guy. Which works out perfectly, because Chris is too. He’s already dying to suck on them sometime, scrape his beard over them, worry them between his teeth and find out how far he can work Sebastian up just from playing with his pretty nipples.

When Sebastian whimpers and sighs, yes, please, yes, Chris realizes he’s said all that out loud. And even though this might just be sex-drunk ramblings, Chris’s heart leaps at the implication that there might be a next time.

Keeping up a steady pace, Chris continues to fuck into Sebastian from behind while he rubs and pinches at his chest. He relishes the high-pitched noises that fall from Sebastian’s lips seemingly without conscious thought: he’s lost in it, just like Chris is lost in him, and it feels so fucking good.

Finally, when he feels the tell-tale tightening in his balls, Chris almost reluctantly pushes Sebastian away from him, down onto the table. He’s loath to let go of him, would much rather keep him close, but he’s conscious that he’s not hitting the spot in that position, and he wants to make this as good for Sebastian as he possibly can.

With a hand on his lower back, Chris presses Sebastian down as he starts to finally give it to him properly, pulling almost all the way out on every stroke before plunging back in. He chances a look down, mesmerized at the sight of his cock sliding in and out of Sebastian’s hole, which hungrily draws him in over and over again. There’s something almost obscene about the fact that Chris is still fully clothed, just his dick out, while Sebastian is gloriously naked, unabashed and wanton, letting himself be taken.

“Oh Jesus,” Chris pants, crazy with it, his body feeling loose and too-tight at the same time. “You’re so fucking hot, you’ve got no idea. Driving outta my fucking mind, sweetheart, Christ.”

“Harder,” Sebastian pleads, trying to muffle his cries in his own forearm. “Fuck me harder, c’mon.”

A haze comes over Chris’s brain, the only thing he can see and feel being Sebastian and the buzz in  his veins, the pleasure coiling in his gut, so close to release. He grabs Sebastian’s hips and pulls him back against him every time he fucks into him, and suddenly, Sebastian’s moans change. They become higher and breathier, littered with aborted curses, and Chris knows he’s hitting the spot.

“Like that, baby? You like it like that?” Chris doesn’t care that he probably sounds like a bad porno right now, his entire consciousness filled with the scent of arousal in the air and the slick, filthy sounds of their bodies joining mixed with obscene moans.

Sebastian isn’t much better, anyway, keeping up a near constant litany of Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, in time with his beautiful, naked body being shoved up and down the table with every forceful thrust of Chris’s hips.

“Oh god,” Sebastian gasps suddenly. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna fucking come.”

“You’re – like this?” Chris asks incredulously. “You don’t need me to-?“

“I need you to keep going,” Sebastian groans. “Just like this, don’t you dare fucking stop.”

“Yes, sir,” Chris grits out. Truth be told, he doesn’t think he could stop now even if he wanted to. He’s so close.

Sebastian seems to finally have lost the capacity for speech altogether, the little breathless ah, ah, ah, sounds that Chris punches out of him the only thing he can manage.

“I’m guh-” Sebastian tries futilely, but he doesn’t get further than that.

“Now,” Chris orders, aiming another trust right into Sebastian’s prostate and grinding down on it, his hips flush with Sebastian’s ass. “Come for me, do it.”

And Sebastian does. He keens, body seizing up, clenching tightly around Chris’s cock. Chris’s hips stutter, wanting to keep thrusting, but it’s too much. Before Sebastian has even finished, Chris’s orgasm slams into him like a freight train. He comes with a long, drawn out moan, losing all sense of place or time as waves of pleasure wash over him, cock pulsing as he fills up the condom with his release.

Chris isn’t proud of it, but he more or less collapses onto Sebastian’s back when he starts to come down, his heaving, dress shirt-clad chest against Sebastian’s sweat-damp back. Chris presses his lips to Sebastian’s shoulder blade, panting against his skin as he catches his breath for a good few minutes.

Finally, his softening dick slips out, and Chris is forced to get up. “Give me one second,” he murmurs, looking around and spotting a box of tissues that’s fallen to the floor. He quickly removes and ties off the condom, wrapping it in a tissue and tossing it in the trashcan, along with the one he uses to clean himself. Next, he tucks himself back into his pants and zips them up, before he grabs another hand full of tissues. He cleans Sebastian up carefully, mindful not to be too rough with his undoubtedly sensitive, softening cock.

“You okay?” Chris whispers, gently stroking the slight curve of Sebastian’s hip.

Sebastian just hums in reply, not showing any inclination to get up of his own accord. He seems pretty out of it, honestly, so Chris helps him up and then guides them both to sit down in the chair again. He pulls Sebastian into his lap, against his chest, the contrast between their states of dress even starker now than it was before. Somehow, Chris is a little moved by it, by how much Sebastian seems to trust him, even if he barely knows him. It makes him tighten his grip instinctively, murmuring praise and endearments into Sebastian’s hair as Sebastian’s head lolls back against Chris’s shoulder.

After a few minutes, Sebastian starts to stir, blinking open his eyes and shivering a little. Chris pulls him closer still, rubbing his hands over Sebastian’s arms and legs in an attempt to warm him up a little.

“You with me again?” Chris asks quietly, lips brushing Sebastian’s ear.

Sebastian swallows, then gives a short nod. “Yeah.” His voice comes out thick, so he clears his throat. “I’m- I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to let myself go quite so much.”

He sounds embarrassed, and Chris won’t stand for that.

“Are you kiddin’ me?” He grabs Sebastian’s chin, turning his face so he can pull him into a kiss. It’s soft, sweet, without much intent, and Sebastian hums into it. “You were perfect,” Chris praises as he pulls away. “You are perfect.”

Despite the fact that he’s been naked all this time, this is what makes Sebastian blush, and Chris watches the color appear in his cheeks with delight, chasing it with his lips and nuzzling Sebastian’s hot cheeks.

“You’re pretty fucking amazing yourself,” Sebastian breathes. He turns into Chris further, lifting a hand to run it first through Chris’s beard and then his hair, tugging him down for another kiss. This one is slower, deeper, and Chris lets himself melt into it.

“I couldn’t believe my luck when you looked at me like that, earlier,” Sebastian confesses, speaking against Chris's lips. “Never woulda thought you’d have been into guys, let alone that you’d be like this.”

He doesn’t have to specify what he means by that, because Chris understands. He never thought Sebastian would’ve been like that, either.

Chris gives a small shrug. “Yeah, I’m bisexual, but I don’t flaunt it. ‘Cause, you know – Hollywood.”

Sebastian hums. “Yeah, I do know,” he says, before adding, “Capitol Hill,” by way of explanation.

A giggle bubbles up inside of Chris that he can’t quite stop in time.

When Sebastian raises an eyebrow at him in question, Chris blurts out, “We just fucked on Capitol Hill.”

Sebastian laughs, bright and happy, resting his forehead against Chris’s. “We sure did, sweetheart.”

He probably shouldn’t push his luck, but Chris has never been very good at keeping his feelings do himself. Before he can question it too much, he says, “So, I know it’s all backwards, but… I’d love to take you out for dinner. If – if you want.”

A sweet, fond smile spreads over Sebastian’s face. “Well, as it happens, I could really go for a burger and a beer, right about now.”

Chris groans, squeezing Sebastian’s waist. “If only you could be naked for the whole thing, and it would be perfect.”

Sebastian laughs. “Maybe on our second date. If you’re lucky.”

It Chris crosses his fingers behind Sebastian’s back, no one needs to know.

Read (and comment?) on AO3 - Thank you! ❤️

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Non-Sequential [Ch. 12]

Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers/Steve Rogers x Reader

One night, Steve Rogers met a beautiful dame named Y/N. He hadn’t intended on letting her get away. But fate had other ideas. Y/N appeared and disappeared in his life so hauntingly that Steve started to wonder if she was an angel meant to watch over him.

Word Count: 2,500

A/N: Inspired by the film The Time Traveler’s Wife. But not one of those fics that just literally rips off the whole movie and plugs in characters where they please.

Chapter 11

“Steve?”

“She’s gone,” he mumbled.

Y/N squinted. “Who’s gone?”

Then he finally looked up at her. “Peggy. She-She passed. I was just notified. She died in her sleep.”

“Oh, Steve,” Y/N gasped before rushing to him and throwing her arms around him. “I’m so sorry.” She whispered into his neck.

Steve needed Y/N today more than ever. She was his lifeline, his support system. First the incident in Lagos and now Peggy.

Things just got more complicated.

After rubbing his back soothingly and holding him tight, Y/N pulled away.

“When’s the funeral?” She asked.

“Two days. In London,” he answered numbly.

“I’m coming with you,” she told him.

“Y/N, I can’t ask you to do that.”

But she wasn’t having it. “You didn’t ask me. I want to. Peggy was a big part of your life. I know how much she meant to you – how much she still does. I’m not going to make you go to her funeral alone.”

Steve leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “Thank you.”

Y/N sighed. It had truly been a terrible past couple of days.

“What was the meeting about?”

But she had no idea what a loaded question it was.

————————

“You’re not going to sign, are you?” Y/N asked as she sat next to Steve. Sam was passed out sleeping in the seat behind them as he let Steve pilot the quinjet.

She studied Steve’s face as he processed her question. His jaw clenched and his grip tightened on the nose-wheel.

“I volunteered for an experimental program so I could do my part, help with the war, protect the people that couldn’t protect themselves. If I sign, that’s going to be jeopardized. I didn’t become who I am so the government could use me wherever they see fit.”  

“But Steve... the other option is putting down the shield forever,” she reminded him. She didn’t bother hiding the worry in her voice.

Everyone knew Steve couldn’t walk away from a fight. What happened when he saw something unjust and ignored the laws of the Accords?

Steve looked over at her. “Maybe it’s time I retire.”

Y/N scoffed at him.

“Is that funny?” He asked.

She crossed her arms. “What’s funny is you even pretending to believe that you could ever stop being Captain America.”

Steve knew she had a point, so he didn’t bother attempting an argument with her.

“Listen, Y/N,” his voice got low and he looked out the front of the jet. “I think you should stay away from the compound for awhile. Things are going to get tense and I don’t want you to become a part of it.”

“We’re not just talking about The Accords now, are we?” She muttered.

Steve shook his head with disapproval. “This isn’t about that kiss, Y/N.”

“I don’t want you to be alone with your thoughts right now. Peggy’s just passed and things are about to get crazy with these Accords. I can’t just hide away.”

Steve took his gaze away from the sky ahead. His blue eyes looked sad, proving that he didn’t want her to hide away, that he wished she could stay by his side always.

But now there would probably be government officials coming in and out of the compound. Steve was already protective of her. He made sure only the people he trusted most were aware of his relationship with Y/n. Who knew what someone would do if they found out Y/N’s real reason for frequently hanging around the Avengers’ compound.

Y/N finally sighed, “Fine.” She tried to force a smirk. “You can just sleep at my place more. You know my bedroom’s cozier anyway.” She was desperately trying to lighten the mood. “You make it cozy,” Steve corrected. “Has nothing to do with your bedroom.”

Suddenly a groan of disgust was heard behind them.

Steve chuckled at Sam’s obvious disgust.

“Get a room,” Sam mumbled without opening his eyes and shifting in his seat to try and go back to sleep again.

—————————

Supporting Steve as she sat at the funeral of his first love was a strange experience for Y/N.

She tried to decrypt what she was feeling. It wasn’t jealousy. No, she was better than that. But it sent a weird chill down her spine. Maybe it was strange to think about a love Steve experienced when all of Y/N’s own relationships never included such a truth. They were crushes and infatuations. But Y/N didn’t know what love felt like until Steve.

Maybe what Y/N was feeling was amazement. Amazement that Steve could love and lose Peggy, yet still find it in himself to love Y/N with all of his heart despite all of it.

Now Y/N watched as Steve helped carry the casket of Margaret Elizabeth Carter.

“You OK?” Sam whispered in her ear. He had been watching Y/N more than he had been watching the funeral.

Y/N blinked back to the present and managed to escape her own thoughts. She just gave him a small smile and nodded.

The next minute, Steve had carefully placed the coffin down and joined Sam and Y/N.

Y/N reached over and placed her hand tightly around his. He gave it a couple of squeezes.

She didn’t know what to say to him. What was there to say to a man who was losing his first love that he’d left behind in another time period?

Towards the end of the service, Steve – whose hand was still tightly gripping Y/N’s – leaned down and kissed Y/N’s temple and whispered, “Thank you for coming with me.”

Turns out, Y/N didn’t need to say anything. Steve just wanted her at his side.

At the wake, Y/N stuck close to Sam. Of course people wanted to chat with Captain America. Many of the people there had been part of SHIELD or served in the military. There were even some people still alive from the war that had crossed paths with Steve at some point.

“Things are about to change, aren’t they?” Y/N finally spoke to Sam.

He didn’t need for her to elaborate. He knew what she meant.

“You know it’s not just about him, right?” Sam countered.

“What do you mean?”

“When it comes to signing or not signing the Accords, Steve’s not just thinking about himself. He’s thinking about what’s best for you.”

Y/N’s head hung. “Guess I never thought about it that way.”

Then she looked around the room to find where Steve was. He was talking to Sharon Carter, Peggy’s niece. Y/N knew she was one of the few SHIELD members that wasn’t HYDRA. She lead the charge of resistance that day in DC.

Suddenly, Sam’s phone started beeping. His eyes narrowed in concern. It was a news update. They were constantly sent to his cell.

He frowned and looked at Y/N. “We need to find a TV.” ————————

Sam, Sharon, Steve, and Y/N not stood in a hotel room, watching the news unfold.

“Y/N, you’re getting on the next flight to New York,” Steve finally said evenly. It was his Captain America tone – emotionless and authoritative.

There was no room for argument.

“Steve…” Y/N sighed.

“That’s non-negotiable, Y/N.” He cut her off.

Sharon was talking on the phone with her team from the CIA.

“I have to go to work,” she finally told them after she hung up.

Y/N and Steve shared a look. Y/N wasn’t sure if she could trust Sharon with the information she knew. It wasn’t a lot. But it was a better start that anyone else had.

Steve clenched his jaw and gave Y/N subtle nod.

Y/N turned to Sharon. “I know where he is.”

Sharon’s eyes flickered to Steve and he nodded.

“He’s in Romania,” Y/N continued. “Bucharest to be exact. But that’s as much detail as I can give you. I don’t have an address or coordinates or even a general neighborhood. The apartment windows were blacked out with newspapers.”

Sharon narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “How do you know this?”

“That’s not important,” Steve defended before Y/N could even try to lie or brush off the question.

Then he looked at Sam and Sharon. “Can you guys give us a moment?”

They both nodded and made their way out.

“You’re gonna go after him,” Y/N sighed.

But Steve was tapping away at his cellphone. “Your flight back to New York boards in two hours.”

“Steve talk to–”

He rushed forward and grabbed her face gently. “Y/N, this is about to get messy. And you can’t get in the middle of it. You are my first priority – always. I need to make sure you’re going to be safe and away from all of it before I do this.”

“And by ‘this’ you mean go against the Accords and hunt Bucky down.” Her eyes were staring at the ground as she said it. There was no questioning. She was simply state the obvious.

Steve said nothing. Her eyes flickered up to his and his heart broke when he saw them glossed over with tears.

“Do you really think he could do something like that?” Y/N whispered.

He dropped his grasp from her face, put his hands on his hips, and looked out the window.

“I don’t know,” Steve sighed. “He could’ve gotten recaptured by whatever’s left of Hydra. He could still be brainwashed – just following orders.”

But Y/N was already shaking her head. “You don’t understand, Steve. He was more himself than you realize. He’s lost. His mind’s a mess, but it was still Bucky. He was on the run.”

“That was 2 months ago, Y/N. Things could’ve easily changed.”

She still shook her head. “Sam hasn’t been able to find him for years, Steve. Years! Doesn’t this look sloppy to you? No one has found a trace of him. And now there’s surveillance footage of him almost completely facing the camera? It all feels so wrong.”

Once again, Steve was quiet.

Y/N’s jaw tensed. “Guess I have a flight to catch.”

There was nothing she could do to help. She wasn’t an agent or a spy or a hero. She was enhanced, but it was useless in a fight. She was useless. If she tried to go with them to find Bucky she’d just get in the way.

“I should be the one to bring him in,” Steve finally thought aloud.

“Why?” She challenged.

“Because I might be the only one that can do it without him getting killed in the process.”

Y/N nodded, knowing he was right. She stepped forward and kissed him goodbye. “Come back to me,” she muttered against his lips before kissing him again.

————————

The footage of the bombing was everywhere on the TVs at the airport. It was making all of the travelers weary and anxious. The last thing people wanted to do after a terrorist attack was get on a damn airplane.

Y/N couldn’t rip her eyes away from the screens. It was starting to drive her mad.

Then it felt like everything had gone quiet. Her eyes raced around at the sensation. But then that terrifying and infamous feeling started.

Her eyes widened in horror as she looked down at her hands as they slowly started disappearing. She would never board this plane. Steve would think something happened to her when he finds out she missed it.

Y/N whimpered swears under her breath.

When she reappeared in a new time, her eyes blinked multiple times to get used to the new lighting. It was dark, almost black. Compared to the bright floor-to-ceiling windows of the airport, this place felt like a dungeon.

Was she in a submarine?

Was she underground?

Then she heard someone – or something – shift in the darkness.

“Who’s there?” She gasped.

There was more shifting, but they said nothing.

Then the darkness turned into the brightest and starkest white. Lights had turned on so bright that Y/N had to shield her eyes. She was blinded by it. 

At the same time, a metal door was wretched open and footsteps came charging into the room. 

People were yelling at her. It wasn’t English. It took Y/N a moment to realize that they were screaming at her in Russian.

She held her hands up in surrender the moment she heard the cocking of guns amongst the yelling.

After blinking for what felt like minutes, Y/N was finally able to take in her surroundings.

But through the chaos, Y/N saw a pair of eyes she would recognize anywhere…even if they were slightly hidden by his long and unwashed hair. 

She quickly observed her surroundings. 

Oh god, she thought. I’ve traveled into the Winter Soldier’s cell.

She was now surrounded by Hydra agents, all of them pointing their guns at her like she was the deadliest threat they’d ever witnessed.

“I don’t know what you’re saying!” Y/N finally screamed, having had enough of their yelling.

One of the operatives finally stepped forward into the circle.

Meanwhile, Y/N’s gaze flickered over to Bucky, who stood frozen in the corner of his cell, like he had no desire to do anything unless instructed to. 

However, his eyes locked with hers and – did she dare believe – they watched her with curiosity?

“How did you breach this cell?” The Hydra operative asked Y/N. 

Then his eyes traveled up and down her naked body, degrading her with his objectifying gaze. Her hands were still held up in surrender, only making her nudity feel even more vulnerable.

“I don’t know,” she hissed. It was both a lie and an honest answer.

The man glared at her for a moment, clearly deciding what to do with her.

“надеть на нее наручники и отвезти в другую камеру,” he ordered his men.  

Y/N was lost on what had been said until one man reached for her and pulled her arms behind her back, cuffing her. 

“Get your hands off me!” She screeched. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

She fought them off as best she could, but it was useless. She was weaker and outnumbered.

She was dragged out of the cell, screaming for her release.

All Y/N could do now was hope she traveled back to the present as soon as possible.

But Y/N was so preoccupied with fighting for her freedom that she missed the Winter Soldier take a hesitant step toward her... as if he had almost considered intervening.

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

Chapter 13

I did a cliffhanger. Don’t hate me. But tell me what you think. 😘

--------

I do not do taglists. Here is the series’ masterlist: Non-Sequential

[iloveyouthree-thousand]

five times peter parker could hear tony’s heart beating (and the one time he couldn’t)

// one //

“It wasn’t that bad, Mr. Stark, I promise.”

Two months had passed since the Vulture incident, and despite Peter declining an official role on the Avengers, he and Tony had kept in touch.

It helped that when May Parker found out about her nephew’s extra-curricular activities, she marched up to the Avengers Compound and made Tony swear on her grave that he’d look out for Peter.

Even without the lecture, though, Tony felt drawn to the spider-ling.

Half of him wanted to run far, far away, because this felt dangerously close to caring, and he had a nasty habit of ruining things he cared about. All it took was one look around the empty Compound to see that.

The other half of him, though, couldn’t stop thinking about that stupid and reckless teenager fighting crime, all by himself, with no training and an iffy track record at best.

So he invited Peter over to walk through the different functions in his suit, or practice his combat skills, or sometimes just to keep him company (though he wouldn’t admit that to the kid).

And, deep down, he knew that May’s threats were unnecessary, because if anything were to happen to Peter Parker, Tony would hate himself more than May Parker ever could.  

This is exactly why, when Peter admits off-handedly that an entire building collapsed on him while he fought off Adrian Toomes, he nearly has a heart attack on the floor of his workshop.

“Please don’t freak out,” Peter continues, sending imploring looks his way, “I would’ve told you sooner but it didn’t really seem important at the time, you know?”

One look at Tony’s face tells Peter that he does not, in fact, know, and so he continues to ramble.

“Besides, I’m fine, see?” He holds out his arms as if to prove his point. “Not even a bruise.”

Tony keeps breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, like his therapist told him to do when he feels a panic attack coming on.

“Mr. Stark?” he asks, a moment later.

“Mhm,” he utters, trying and failing to put any sort of strength behind his voice.

“Please don’t freak out,” Peter repeats, softer this time, “because if you freak out then I’ll freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out.”

“I can hear your heartbeat,” he explains, “and it’s racing.”

He could lie, but the kid is right. His heart is beating so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if Peter could hear it even without the superpowers.

“You could’ve died,” is what he settles on instead.

“But I didn’t,” Peter counters, as if that makes it all better, as if Tony isn’t about ready to vomit at the thought of him crushed under a pile of rubble in a pair of glorified pajamas.

“I should’ve been there.”

“You didn’t know.”

“I shouldn’t have taken the suit.”

“I deserved it.”

“God, kid, if something were to happen to you, I--,” he doesn’t finish the sentence, but Peter knows. He can see it in his eyes, can hear in in his heartbeat.

“I survived, Mr. Stark. I’m okay.”

“I just... I should’ve been there,” he says again.

The kid stops and looks him in the eye, and for a second, the terror of crumbling concreate all around him comes flooding back.

“Maybe,” Peter concedes, his voice cracking as he remembers calling out for help, only to realize that no one was coming to rescue him.

Tony tenses as the guilt tightens its hold.

“It’s okay, though,” he continues, “because you’ll be there next time, right?”

It’s not so much a question as it is a plea.

He wishes, more than anything, that he could go back in time and do it all over, but he can’t change the past.

He can only change the future.

“I promise, kid, from now on, whenever you’re in trouble, I’m going to be right there with you. You’re not alone. Not anymore. Okay?”

The fear begins to fade from Peter’s eyes, quelled by Tony’s words, and after a moment his face flips into a smile.

He hears Tony’s heartbeat finally fall into a normal rate, and it’s strangely comforting.

“Okay.”

// two //

“Pete, you’re missing the best part.”

Tony frowns at the mop of hair buried into his sweatshirt, jostling his arm to lightly nudge the boy awake.

“You still with me kid?”

“Mm,” Peter murmurs, neither confirming nor denying Tony’s suspicions.

The fight sequence continues to play on the screen, the screech of metal on metal as the robots battled it out filling the room.

Peter doesn’t even stir.

“Alright, spider-baby, I guess it’s bedtime,” Tony chuckles as he moves to stand, intending to carry Peter to his room in the Compound.

“Mm,” Peter murmurs again when Tony shifts his weight, the single syllable sounding more like a protest this time around.

“Are you going to say any real words tonight or are we talking in grunts from here on out?”

“Mm.”

“Noted.”

The boy nestles back into his shoulder, and Tony begins to accept the fact that he’s going to be stuck in this exact position for the foreseeable future.

It was probably better this way anyhow.

When May had dropped Peter off that afternoon, she’d mentioned that he hadn’t been getting much sleep.

If spending the night on the couch was what it took to get the kid to finally get some shut-eye, Tony was willing to make that sacrifice.

An hour later, Peter is still pressed into his shoulder, and Tony is still wide awake, half-watching a B-list sci-fi movie on the TV.

“Mr. Stark.”

“Oh, good, we’re using English now,” he smirks, looking down at the kid, but Peter’s eyes remain closed.

“Mis’r Stark,” he says more forcefully, slurring the words a little, eyes still shut tight.

“Hey,” Tony pokes at the boy’s shoulder, “is this lucid Peter or sleep-talking Peter?”

The boy just whimpers. And then he starts crying.

“Pete, hey,” he pokes harder, “wake up.”

After a few more attempts, Peter’s hazy eyes spring open, wide with panic.

“Easy,” he soothes, running a hand over the kid’s hair, “it’s just me.”

“Oh,” Peter takes in the situation quickly, “I fell asleep.”

“Didn’t even make it halfway through the movie. But May said you haven’t been sleeping well, so I decided to leave you to it.”

“Ah.”

There’s a beat.

Tony thinks about not mentioning it, because maybe it’ll just embarrass him and who knows if Peter even wants to talk about it. But Tony had also pushed his mental health to the side for so much of his life, and he knew there were consequences. You could ignore the demons all you want, but it doesn’t make them go away.

“Tell me about the nightmares, Pete.”

His eyes go wide again, cheeks flushed, as he ducks his head back into the couch.

“It’s nothing,” he says, the words muffled by the cushions.

“It’s enough of something to be keeping you awake at night.”

“I’m okay.”

Tony reaches down, raising Peter’s chin with his index finger until their eyes meet.

There are visible bags under the teen’s red-rimmed eyes, a pool of tears caught up in his bottom lashes.

“No, you’re not,” he argues, “and it’s okay to not be okay. You should talk to someone about it, though. It doesn’t have to be me, or even May. We can set something up with a professional. I’m just worried about you, kid.”

Peter looks at him, words on the tip of his tongue, but he hesitates.

He wasn’t supposed to know about Siberia. There were protocols on FRIDAY’s database for a reason, because Tony didn’t ever want to see that look in Steve Roger’s eyes again, the look that told him everything he didn’t want to believe. And he sure as hell didn’t need anyone else to see it.

But one of Peter’s fatal flaws is that he’s not exactly known for following protocol.

Tony had never told him about what happened after Germany, but judging by the fact that he and Colonel Rhodes were the only Avengers that ever hung around the Compound, he’d guessed it hadn’t gone well. Every time Peter asked, though, Tony got this sad, faraway look in his eye and promptly changed the subject.

A sane person would’ve left it alone.

Peter was too concerned about Tony to be sane.

Two weeks ago, he’d gotten an idea. If his own suit recorded every single mission, surely the Iron Man suit did, too. He hacked FRIDAY’s database and, sure enough, there it was.

He should’ve turned it off--should’ve walked away when he realized just how personal it was--but it was like watching a car wreck. Peter couldn’t quite look away.

Instead, he watched the whole thing to the bitter end, living through Tony’s eyes. He gasped as the red and white shield came crashing down, could almost feel the weight of the metal in his own chest.

And then the screen went dark.

“Earth-to-Peter.”

He blinks a few times as Tony’s voice pulls him back into the present.

“You went silent on me there for a minute.”

Peter swallows, debating for a second before he decides it’s time to face the music.

“I saw the footage from Siberia,” he blurts. “I know I shouldn’t have but I hacked FRIDAY’s database and I watched it and I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark.”

He bites at his lip and stares at his hands as he twists them in his lap.

“That’s why I’ve been having nightmares,” he finishes, and it’s barely above a whisper.

Peter waits, bracing himself for a lecture on boundaries and invasions of privacy.

He half-expects Tony to lay into him and kick him out right that second.

“Pete,” is what Tony says instead, zero parts angry and one-hundred parts concerned.

“I’m sorry,” Peter repeats, a sob on his lips.

“Hey, shh,” he shakes his head and wraps his arm around him tighter, “no apologies.”

“I was j-just worried about you.”

“I know, kid,” he smiles softly, “you’ve got a heart the size of the sun and I hope that never changes. You don’t need to worry anymore, though. I’m okay, Pete. I promise.”

He stops, running his fingers in circles on Peter’s back.

“It’s time for me to worry about you, now. And I’m going to start by figuring out how to help you sleep.”

Peter gets a sheepish look on his face, and Tony raises an eyebrow.

“It helps,” Peter pauses, looking away, “it helps when I can hear your heartbeat, because then I know you’re okay.”

“But it’s stupid,” he continues, “and kinda weird, and obviously I can’t listen to your heartbeat all the time because even just saying that sounds crazy and--,”

“Kid, please stop talking.”

He hadn’t noticed during his rambling, but Tony’s pulled a blanket around the two them and turned the TV off.

“Can you hear it?” Tony whispers a few moments later, his lips pressed gently into Peter’s hair.

Peter listens, hears the steady thump in his ears, like a gentle rhythm. Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum.

He’s out like a light before he can even answer the question.

// three //

Peter’s intuitive enough to know it’s not going well.

“You know, I live in New York, do I really need to know how to drive?”

“It’s a useful skill, kid. What if you’re ever on a mission and you need to tail someone? You can’t just take the train for that.”

Peter remembers the incident with Flash’s car and his cheeks go red.

“And the next time that happens,” Tony looks at him pointedly, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t total the thing and/or nearly kill yourself in the process.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yea? Let’s ask Karen about that when we get home, then.”

Peter mutters something under his breath that sounds vaguely like tattle tale and Tony breaks into a smirk.

“Alright, now what you’re going to do is ease off of the clutch and give it a little gas.”

Peter is about to follow his commands when he stops suddenly.

“Mr. Stark?”

“Mr. Parker?” Tony echoes sarcastically.

“How much did this car cost?”

“I would guess somewhere in the hundreds of thousands of dollars.”

Peter’s eyes nearly bug out of his head.

“Oh my God.”

“Relax, kid. You’ve been doing just fine.”

That was a lie. Peter had stalled out more times than he could count. He sent Tony’s stomach lurching every time he accelerated and nearly gave him whiplash every time he hit the brakes.

“Now, up off the clutch while you press down on the gas pedal.”

Peter does as he’s told, but chickens out when he goes to give it gas and promptly stalls. Again.

“Let’s try again,” Tony says gently, restarting the car, “just give her a little more gas this time.”

Peter takes a deep breath and lifts his foot off the clutch.

A little more gas this time.

He pushes his foot down on the pedal, way overcompensating for his previous attempt, and sends the car straight through the grass and into the wall of the closed course.

Peter can hear Tony’s heartbeat spike as it pumps erratically.

Tears well up in his eyes as he braces himself for the anger, the disappointment, because Peter’s really done it this time.

“Peter, are you okay? Look at me,” Tony says, perching himself over the center console to check for cuts, bruises, even a hair out of place.

“I t-told you this car was t-too nice for me t-to drive,” he sniffles, hyperventilating because this car is worth more than his entire apartment and he’s crashed it into a cement wall.

He doesn’t know, though, that Tony didn’t just choose this car on a whim. It’s won every safety award in the last three years, and he’s even added a couple extra precautionary measures just in case. Peter could probably drive this car off a cliff and walk away just fine.

When it came to Peter Parker’s well-being, money was no object.

“Hey,” Tony stops him, “I couldn’t care less about the car, kid. What I do care about, though, is you. That being said, you know the drill. Injury report.”

Peter finally takes a breath and gives himself a once-over.

“All clear.”

“FRI,” Tony prompts.

“My scanners are not picking up on any injuries, sir.”

Then, and only then, does Peter hear Tony’s heartbeat slow down.

“Thank God. I think it’s probably time to call it a day. We’ll pick up the same time tomorrow, though.”

Sure enough, Tony has the car all fixed up and ready to drive again the next day.

They keep practicing, day after day, until Peter can drive around the entire course with Tony’s heart rate remaining fixed and stable the entire time.

When it finally happens, he pulls of the course and puts the car in park, practically radiating giddiness.

Tony just smirks and tries not to look too proud.

// four //

“Mr. Stark, I don’t feel so good.”

Peter takes two steps forward and collapses into Tony.

“I don’t wanna go,” he chokes, “I don’t wanna go, please, Mr. Stark, I don’t wanna go.”

Tony looks into the kid’s pleading eyes and feels the bile burning his throat.

“You’re alright,” he says, and it’s not enough, of course it’s not enough, but nothing else leaves his mouth.

Around them, the Guardians are turning to dust and vanishing and Tony can only pray that the kid is spared from whatever hell they’ve stumbled into.

Tony holds Peter closer, as if that will stop whatever force of nature is stealing the rest of their team away. At the very least, as if to tell Peter that he’s not going anywhere without him, that they’re in this together.

He’s not alone. Not anymore.

They’ve done this before, when Peter’s anxiety ramps itself up to eleven and he gets so scared that he feels like he can’t breathe. 

It helps Peter to hear his heartbeat. He knows that. So he’ll press him up against his chest and tell him to tune out the rest of the world and just listen to him. 

Listen to my breathing, kid. That’s it. Just like that, in and out. Perfect. Hear my heartbeat? I’m right here, Pete. I’m right here. Just listen.

Just listen.

Every other time before, Tony would keep Peter locked in his arms until the panic melted from his face and the rhythms in their chests were synced. Tony didn’t even need to say anything.

As long as Tony’s heart kept beating in his ears, Peter knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Now, as the world is fading around them, Peter just keeps concentrating on his heartbeat. It’s constant and steady.  

He’s scared, terrified, even, but he knows that as long as he can still hear it he’s going to be okay. He has to be okay.

Except, Peter can feel his fingers starting to crumble as he falls to the ground, taking Tony with him.

Tony’s heartbeat is still strong, but it’s starting to get farther and farther away.

The reality hits him all at once. He’s dying.

He’s dying and the only thing Tony can do is watch him as he goes.

And if you die, I feel like that’s on me.

Peter looks up at him, sees the brokenness seep into his eyes as the reality of the situation hits Tony too.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

Tony’s heartbeat is the last thing he hears before the world fades to black.

// five //

Tony’s heartbeat is the first thing Peter searches for when he comes back.

He has to strain, a bit, because the clamor of the battlefield rings loud in his ears. His eyes scan the hundreds of faces, looking for one in particular.

There.

“Mr. Stark! You will not believe what’s been going on,” he says, getting closer to the man, “do you remember that we were in space just a minute ago and I like, vanished,” he stops, looking at the gray flecks in Tony’s hair.

Those weren’t there a second ago.

“What’s that in your hair?”

“It’s just gray hair,” Tony says lightly, looking at him funny, and Peter just nods and continues.

“Oh. Well, Dr. Strange was there when we got back, and he gave us this big speech and--,” he’s cut off by a pair of arms nearly cutting his air off.

“What’s happening?”

He can hear Tony’s heartbeat now, because it’s pounding right up against his chest.

Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum.

“Just hug me, kid.”

Peter swears he hears it skip a beat when he does just that.

It’s all so weird, because they were in space just a second ago and now they’re home, at the Compound, but everything is on fire and there’s a battle raging around them.

Peter doesn’t know what to make of it, his brain is going into overdrive trying to remember the minutes before he got all dusty and passed out, but Tony’s arms cinch around him a little tighter and he decides not to worry about it for the time being.

Right now, he can hear Tony’s heartbeat drumming in his ears. As long as he can still hear that, he’s going to be okay.

Tony places a kiss on his cheek, making no move to let go of him, and Peter doesn’t protest.

“This is nice,” he says.

Everything’s going to be okay.

// six //

The smell of burning flesh hangs in the air, but Peter ignores it, running straight toward Tony.

“Mr. Stark?”

His face is ashy white against the blood dripping down his skin, and Peter feels like he’s going to be sick.

“Mr. Stark, you did it,” he says, holding back tears because he can hear it, can hear his heartbeat faltering, “we won.”

“Mr. Stark, we won,” he thinks that if he keeps saying it then maybe it’ll make it come true, but Tony’s heartbeat is still falling, fading into a dull murmur.

“Tony?” He tries instead, hoping to get some kind of reaction, but it doesn’t come.

Eventually Pepper pulls him away and he’s sobbing now, because the thumping in Tony’s chest is so faint it’s almost silent, and the beats are few and far between.

Peter watches as Pepper kneels next him. He can feel Rhodey’s hand squeeze around his shoulder as she promises Tony that they’re going to be okay.

He wants to scream, because he feels anything but okay, because Tony’s heartbeat was one giant constant in his life and now it’s dwindling into nothing.

For the longest time, he’d known that as long as he could still hear Tony’s heartbeat, he’d be okay.

He needed Tony to hold on, because he wasn’t quite sure what he would do if he lost him.

Please don’t go.

Tony looks so tired, though.

And as much as it hurts, Peter needs to let go.

“You can rest, now,” Pepper whispers, and Peter holds his breath as Tony gives her one last smile.

Peter hears the exact moment Tony Stark’s heart stops beating.

He hears awful silence creep in and replace the familiar ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum.

And, for a moment, Peter swears his heart stops beating, too.

[deaky-disco-queen]

Who You’re Gonna Call? - Breaky Week Day 7

A/N: My final piece for Breaky Week! It’s for the prompt Someone Dies (None of the Boys dies, don’t worry, it’s really fluffy) and I Kind of barely skimmed the prompt but I really wanted to write this so here it is. Also there is a Tiny reference to some gore and murder and a suicide Happening so if that’s triggering for you please be careful or just don’t read it. It’s really minor but just to make sure. 

Can also be read on AO3. 

+++

“Guess what I bought!”

John sat on Brian’s desk, kicking his legs against his chair, grinning in the way that made his eyes crinkle up and showed off his tooth gap. Brian tried very hard not to be endeared by it but failed.

   “What did you buy?” He asked.

   “A spirit box!”

He showed him some weird device that looked like some kind of radio or walkie-talkie of some kind. Brian blinked several times, trying to make sense out of what John had said and what he was seeing.

   “A what?” He then asked.

   “A spirit box! It’s really cool! You can talk to ghosts by scanning through radio stations and they can use the radio waves to string sentences together. In a way.”

Brian groaned in annoyance and buried his face in his hands. John laughed and boxed him in the shoulder playfully, obviously enjoying his pain. He almost regretted saying yes when John had asked him to join his weird ghost hunting show as a co-host but he knew it was John’s passion project and he was his friend first and foremost and he didn’t want him to fail at his job just because Brian didn’t want to risk being awkward around his crush. Also, he didn’t want to imagine how this would have turned out if head asked Roger to be his co-host.

It didn’t stop him from wondering why he even liked John, though.

Nobody frustrated him quite like John. It wasn’t just the fact that he kept arguing with Brian that ghosts were real- they weren’t- or that they seemed to disagree on many other things that were so trivial it shouldn’t matter. Except when it came to John, they did and most of the time, they could be found squabbling about one thing or another. John was also very fond of playing tricks and little pranks on him. It was never anything mean so Brian never got mad at him. It just didn’t made any sense why Brian fell for him of all people.

   “Deaky…” He said, already feeling a headache coming. “You’re not really believing that, are you?”

John shot him a look that told him he did, in fact, believe it and Brian groaned.

   “Alright, sure, I’ll humor you. How does it work?”

   “I’ll show you at the location today. Finish up whatever you have to do and meet me at your car.”

John grinned and jumped off the desk and patted his shoulder when he passed him and Brian sighed and rubbed his temples before he went back to work.

+++

   “Oh, that looks like a haunted castle right there!”

John laughed and spread his arms out as he grinned widely at Brian. Brian was frowning up at the castle. If he had to pick a location for making a horror movie it would probably this one. It was old, with ivy growing over the walls and the towers, the windows were dark and it loomed over them on top of a hill.

   “I hate it already.” Brian said.

He shot the camera John was holding a quick look before adjusting his gear and double-checking the battery stand on his own gear. It would be a long night and he wasn’t exactly looking forward to it.

   “Do you have your sleeping bag?” He asked John.

John gently kicked a bag on the ground in front of him and Brian nodded happily, crossing that from his mental To-Do-List.

   “I can’t wait to meet some ghosts!”

Brian rolled his eyes on him but followed John towards the castle. It was even more creepy inside than outside. It was dirty- unsurprisingly, nobody lived here and the owners probably wanted to play up the whole ‘haunted’ look- and dark with weird portraits, old armors and typical medieval style decor around. And lots of spider webs.

   “This is-” They both started at the same time.

   “-gross as fuck.” Brian finished, wrinkling his nose.

   “-fantastic!” John said, grinning wildly.

They exchanged a quick glance, before breaking into giggles. They made sure to get some good footage of the unsettling hallways until they came to a big ballroom of some kind.

   “Hello, ghosts!” John yelled, cheering when it echoed through the room.

Brian shook his head at him but filmed it anyway, keeping the camera on his face to capture the childish delight on his face.

   “So tell me why we are here, then.”

John’s face lit up visibly and Brian smiled despite thinking this whole thing was kind of stupid. He was cute when he got excited. And if it meant he had to listen to a ghost story and John’s rambling for a while, then so be it. Brian sat down on the windowsill and waited until John had set up their tripod. Their legs brushed together when he sat down next to him.

   “Alright! Welcome to another episode of Unsolved! Today we are here in the Thrawcliff Castle where some extremely fucked up shit happened and we will try and get some ghosts to tell us more about it!”

He smiled at Brian before he went off about the history of the castle. Apparently, some 500-ish years ago the son of a rich family that owned the castle started hearing voices and developed violent tendencies that ended with him murdering his three siblings and his parents, only to commit suicide afterwards. It was a unsettling and sad story but once John got to the part where he talked about people feeling presences and apparitions, weird happenstances and whatnot, Brian felt the need to roll his eyes.

He let John talk, not feeling like he had anything but skepticism to add and while that was the whole reason he was here in the first place, he didn’t want to dampen John’s fun just yet. Not that he would, John seemed to not give a shit whether Brian was a fan of a location or not, still excited and determined to find a ghost. Or proof of a ghost.

   “This is going to be fun!”

   “Well, at least you can see the stars very well tonight.” Brian added, a smile tugging on his lips.

   “Stars and ghosts, we’re in for an amazing night!”

   “No ghosts, just stars, Deaky.”

John grinned at him, knocking their shoulders together, not even bothered by his lacking enthusiasm. He was probably used to it already, they have been doing this for a while now, after all.

   “Why not both? They are not mutually exclusive.”

   “Ghosts don’t exists, stars do.”

   “How do you know?”

Brian groaned loudly.

+++

They decided to test John’s spirit box thing on top of the tallest tower.

It was a horrible loud, piercing noise and Brian physically flinched back when he heard it for the first time and it didn’t get better with time. Brian hated it. He didn’t think he could hate it any more than being in a unsettling place in the dark and sleeping there but he was proven wrong. John loved to do that and he managed it again.

   “It switches through radio channels so ghosts can string words together to talk to us.” John explained to him.

Brian only barely resisted the urge to cover his ears.

   “Let’s go and ask the ghosts some questions, why don’t we?”

It was stupid. John was just talking to static with no answers- the unintelligible stuff- didn’t count because it wasn’t words- but he was ecstatic about the whole thing and kept asking questions. Brian had no idea how he did not get frustrated by getting nothing concrete in return over and over again.

   “Isn’t that amazing?” John asked.

   “Amazingly annoying.”

John rolled his eyes at him.

   “Come on, let’s do solo investigations!”

+++

The thing was, Brian didn’t believe in ghosts. He was a man of science and ghosts just didn’t seem like a plausible thing to him. Aliens, sure, space was just too big for them to be the only intelligent life form out there but ghosts? He couldn’t believe in it no matter how many different theories John proposed to him. None of the evidence convinced him enough to believe in it.

But Brian was still very afraid. Not because of ghosts, because that was stupid, but because there were so many other things to be afraid of. Ghosts may not scare him but potential injuries while being far away from medical help, getting an infection from the filthy surroundings and meeting some random serial killer sure did. The last one wasn’t really as likely as the others but he was still afraid of somebody lurking in the shadows of wherever they were, just waiting to get a chance to rob him or whatever. People were way scarier than ghosts.

So he hated the solo investigations because it was scary to be alone in a dark hallway in a creepy castle.

   “God, fuck, okay. This is still stupid but here we go: Hello, ghosts.”

He walked down the hallway, his flashlight shaking slightly.

Their fans found it hilarious that the skeptic of all people tended to get the most scared. Brian liked to think it was because he had common sense. John would happily invite a demon to possess him if it let him prove their existence. And Brian could respect that dedication. He just wished it wasn’t ghosts and demons and all of these kinds of things John was so obsessed with. It would save him so much trouble.

   “Damn you, John.”

He slowly made his way down the stairs into the dungeon- because of course all the gory things happened in the dungeon and many gory and downright disgusting things had happened here if John had been telling the truth- and he started to question his life choices again.

   “If there is anyone in here with me, please speak up.”

Of course there was only silence and Brian sighed.

   “Please don’t make me use the stupid box. Just talk to me so we can call it a day.”

There was still no answer and Brian sighed again, louder this time, and set down the spirit box and turned it on, flinching at the ugly sound it made. He tried to get some ghosts to talk to him but- unsurprisingly- got no response and left the dungeon as soon as John called him to tell him his ten minutes were up.

   “How was it? You scared? Met a ghost? Or a serial killer? Maybe a weirdo in a trenchcoat?”

   “Stop making fun of it and get us a ghost, I want to leave.”

John laughed and made his way downstairs while Brian set up their sleeping bags in the ballroom. He could hear John yelling at the ghosts- air-, demanding them to show themselves and talk to him. He was mercilessly taunting him and Brian could never understand how John could believe in them and yet be so incredible fearless. He read all these stories about them doing terrible things and causing violence and stuff and yet he didn’t seem to be scared at all. Or his way of dealing with being scared was cursing ghosts out.

After a while, it grew quiet and Brian knew John had finished his private investigation and waited for him to come back.

   “Find anything?” Brian asked.

   “Oh, I got some really interesting answers! I’ll show you later. Are you ready to go to sleep?”

+++

Brian could never sleep at locations and today wasn’t an exception. It was cold and uncomfortable and he was still afraid someone with bad intentions was going to show up. He just lay in the dark, turned away from John to see the door to the room which probably didn’t help his paranoia much.

   “Can’t sleep?” John asked quietly.

   “You know I can’t.”

He could hear John shift behind him and then he was kicked in the back until he turned around to face him. John’s face was barely visible in the darkness but he could make out his silhouette faintly.

   “Nothing is going to happen to us. No bad people will come for us. No one but us and the ghosts here. And since you don’t believe in those, you’re good.”

   “I know that.” Brian whispered. “It’s called an irrational fear for a reason.”

John chuckled softly and Brian hit him blindly in the chest, grinning satisfied when he let out a low groan.

   “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from any ghosts and serial killers. I promise.”

It didn’t really calm Brian in any way but it was a nice sentiment. He didn’t have to tell John that- he knew that- and so he didn’t and just let the silence between them drag on.

   “Oh for fucks sake, c’mere.”

   “What?”

Before getting an answer, John unzipped his sleeping bag and reached for him, pulling Brian close. John was way stronger than he looked.

   “Let’s zip us together.”

Brian tried to argue but it was a weak attempt and he held the flashlight so John could make their two sleeping bags in on big one. Then, he forced him to lie down facing away from the door, his head resting on John’s arm and their legs tangled together. His nose was almost touching his shoulder and Brian felt himself blush.

This wasn’t what normal friends did, was it? Though, normal friends wouldn’t go ghost hunting together either so was he really in any position to judge? John might not be the most touchy-feely guy but they had been friends for years now and he didn’t mind Roger or Freddie being all over him.

   “Are you comfortable?”

Brian nodded despite it being a bit of a lie. He didn’t know where he was supposed to put his hands so they were just awkwardly laying between them. John didn’t seem to have this kind of problem, easily wrapping his arm around Brian’s waist.

   “Good, then sleep. I’ll fight any evil people trying to get to us.”

   “You’re ridiculous.” Brian said.

   “No, just in love with you.”

Brian’s breath got caught in his chest. John’s bravery floored him over and over again. Of course he had no issues just confessing his love like this, as if it was nothing, as if he had nothing to fear, nothing to lose. Sometimes he wished he had even half of this bravery. But even now, he could not say anything even though he really wanted to.

   “It’s okay, Bri, you can confess your crush tomorrow. Maybe over brunch?”

   “Brunch sounds nice.” Brian choked out.

John hummed satisfied and pressed a short kiss into Brian’s hair.

   “Great, looking forward to it.”

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 10: Put Your Foot Down

Chapters: 10/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Appearance of a (fake) snake (Fnake?) Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not yet) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), OFC, Brunnhilde/Valkyrie(Marvel), Pepper Pots, Steve Rogers/ Captain America Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending, Loki is Not Acting Like a Responsible Prince Right Now, Reader Fights Back, Brunnhilde Approves, Time for a Check In  Summary: Loki is reminded that Reader is not a subject of Asgard, and Doesn’t Enjoy It, pranks are played, Andsvarr is as earnest as ever, and Captain America has some advice

“And the Aether was one of the stones, only in liquid form?” You asked. “That’s just a thing that can happen?”

“It was the Reality stone, so yeah, I guess so.”

“And it was just…inside a person. Like blood. “

“I don’t know how it happened, I was across the universe at the time. Ask Loki, he was there.” Brunnhilde closed the book she had been reading to you from, hiding a terrifying picture of a being labeled ‘Kurse’. “I was under the impression that you might know about her. She’s a mortal lady, and she had a thing with the king for a little while.”

“Well…I might have heard of her, but I don’t really follow celebrity gossip, you know? It seems kinda skeevy.”

Brunnhilde laughed. “Girl, I’ve seen skeevy. I’ve been skeevy! You want skeevy, I could tell you some stories that would…probably scar you for life, actually. So never mind.”

“Look, I just don’t understand how ‘ Picture-Taking Creepo Stalker’ is a legal profession when it comes to celebrities, but a literal crime when it comes to everyone else.” You shrugged. “I hate that kind of double standard, and I won’t support it.”

“In that case, never leave the city with the prince at your side.” Brunnhilde warned. “There are some pretty obsessive people hanging out around the city, and we don’t know for sure what they might be capable of.”

“Hey, I met some of those people. And I can’t really argue with you, I guess. One of them was really nice! Like, above and beyond nice. And I’m sure most of them are. But there were some mean ones too. I, uh, I don’t think you’d get along with their crowd.”

“If by ‘get along’ you mean ‘crush under my heel’ then yeah, probably.”

“Yeah, probably.” You echoed. A bunch of campers probably didn’t stand much chance against a warrior goddess, no matter how much umbrage some of them might take with her skin color.

“I kinda miss them though.” Other humans. People who understood your world, and who couldn’t snap your bones by grabbing you too hard.

“Even the mean ones?”

“Ehh, well, I can’t say I feel all that sorry for that guy. He was really rude to me. But Loki taught him a hard lesson, and I can only hope he learned something from it.”

“Rather like the hard lessons the Svartalfari taught us, for our past invasion attempts.” Brunnhilde grabbed another book, opening it to a specially marked page. “Ha, you see what I did there?”

“I did. Very clever. So what am I looking at? I can’t read it.”

“Oh right. Well, this is Svartalfari writing on this page, and the Asgardian translation on the opposite page.  I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but I wish Loki was here. His projections are very useful , since you can’t read any of this.”

Loki slid around a bookcase. “I heard that.” He purred smugly.

Brunnhilde groaned and rolled her eyes, dropping her face into her hands.

“Norns, cut my string.” She begged. “Well, since you’re here, care to pull up Svartalfheim?”

“Perhaps later. For now, _____ come with me. You are to use our computer, and contact this forum of yours-“

“No.” You said.

There was a moment of silence.

“What?” Loki asked, incredulous. A look of glee spread across the Valkyrie’s face.

“I said no.” Maybe it was a bad idea to challenge him so abruptly like this, but the imperious tone he’d been using raised your hackles. Ordering you around was not a habit you could allow him to get into.

“What’s brought this on?” He demanded, indignant.

“There’s just no call to talk to me like that, that’s all.”

He slid onto the bench next to you, graceful as a panther, and projecting just as much danger. You glared straight into his eyes, watching his expression fill with irritation. And just like that, you were in a stand-off.

“You are not my equal.” He said, voice velvety and threatening. Don’t back down now, don’t back down…

“I’m not.” You said calmly. You dealt with irate customers all the time. All you had to do was keep a calm façade. “But I’m also not your subject or your servant. I’m not even your employee. Therefore, I decide what orders I obey. It’s not going to be all of them, no matter what you want.”

He looked completely taken aback. Clearly, he had been getting too used to your obedience. Nip it in the bud.

His stare was getting a little too intense. You looked away, just to see Brunnhilde practically sprawled across the table, chin balanced in her palms. Her delighted expression only brightened as she noticed your attention, gaze spearing Loki as she silently dared him to do anything.

“Fine.” He huffed. “Since you are being so particular, I don’t suppose you’d at least tell me why you won’t contact them? I assume it’s more than just a sudden burst of childish contrariness?”

Brunnhilde snorted.

“I can’t contact them because I’ve been blocked on the forums. You know, kicked out? Banished? Because of you. I can’t even access the pages. And you can’t make an account. You’re the reason they shunned me, you think they’ll talk to you? These people are paranoid, your Highness, they’re conspiracy theorists. Some of them have been institutionalized because of what they remember, and the rest are afraid that the same will be done to them. Not only do they have to live with the terrible things they remember, but they have to fear what might be done to them because of it.”

“I can provide them validation. Confirm that what they remember was real, and give them an explanation.” He pointed out, but you shook your head.

“They aren’t going to trust you, and you can’t reason with someone if they don’t trust you. And I can’t reach them anymore. The security footage from my work has gone viral. Anyone I talk to is going to think that you’re holding me hostage and making me say whatever you want.”

“Ugh, you really are useless!”

“Your reputation is not my fault. And besides, what are you even going to do with them? Tell them they all might be magic? And then what? You wanna teach them magic things? Where are you going to house them? Do you have a school? Are you just going to hunt down and kidnap the ones who don’t want to come? What’s your plan?”

“All I asked-“

“Ordered.”

“-was that you contact them. I never said I was going to go on a people-snatching rampage!”

“Google your name right now! You are already famous for doing exactly that!”

“To save your life!” He shouted.

“Nobody knows that!” You shouted back.

He threw his hands into the air. “Enough! I’m leaving! Stay and see if you can’t learn something through your burgeoning contrariety, I’ll be seeking out reasonable company!”

He stormed away through the library, ignoring the attention he’d brought on himself. The library doors weren’t the kind that could be slammed, but he made a spirited try.

You blew out a long breath, willing your heart to stop pounding. Brunnhilde actually giggled.

“That was delightful.” She praised.

“I’m so dead.” You moaned. “My stupid temper always gets me in trouble. I’m a goddamn adult, why can’t I keep my mouth shut?”

“You’re pretty when you’re mad.” She pointed out. “Not everyone’s so lucky. Besides, he’s just pissed because he mistook a few days of you being mostly obedient due to shock, as you two getting along perfectly.”

“He’s gonna kick my ass. Not literally, probably. He doesn’t seem like the kind to punch a woman for disobedience, but somehow…”

“Yeah, you’re pretty much guaranteed to find a snake in your bed tonight.” She agreed.

“Joke’s on him; I like snakes.”

“Do you really? Well, allow me to teach you about the supermassive black hole we’ve described as ‘gnawing the roots of Yggdrasil’. It’s swallowed multiple galaxies, and shows no signs of stopping. And so, we have named it Niddhogg…”

                                                                                      *****

 The snake was not in your bed, but in your bath; very large, and very green, it circled the entire tub. You paused upon seeing it, unsure if it was real. Were there any snakes in Iceland? You would say it was too cold, but you had seen common garden snakes in the snow before, and it was perfectly warm in here.

You finally decided that it could not be real. It was far too big to have gotten in without being seen. You stepped past it into the water. It hissed, and then disappeared into a sparkle of green light.

The next one might be real though.

However, if simple little pranks like that were all you received in revenge for flouting the prince, you could handle it.

The shampoo fizzled oddly as you massaged your scalp. Your hair would smell like him against your pillow, something that still made you uncomfortable.

You hadn’t gone to dinner, just asked for a sandwich to be sent to the library while you tried to make sense of the illustrations you’d been shown. You had never gotten around to finishing the lesson on Svartalfheim.

You still had to wear his bathrobes. Everything here was his. You had to make sure you didn’t get added to the collection.

Passing his long mirror, you noticed that the fizzing shampoo had done something drastic to your hair.

It was green.

Fury rose in you, but you stamped it down. He wanted you to react. Yes, you were disgusted that he had physically altered your body without your permission, but if you just didn’t react, he might give up. Or he might try to do even worse things.

You went straight to bed after your bath, but found that your blankets held no warmth.

What a little bastard.

                                                                                   *****

The next day found you tired, cold, and stiff, with dark circles under your eyes. Your hair was still green. Saldis very kindly said nothing about any of this when she brought your clothes and breakfast. More tasty oatmeal, and more conspicuous green and black clothing.

“Any more books?” You asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing new, I’m afraid. Is there anything else I can get for you instead?”

“Well, I don’t want to ask for too much, but if you have any art supplies lying around…”

“I’ll see what I can scrounge up. I know for sure we have plenty of pencils and paper. Seems like we are in a new era of kingship, where great battles are won on paper and with words. I prefer it, but don’t tell anyone I said so. My mother and father are too fond of their swords.”

“Not much call for sword battles around here anymore.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way. But just in case it does not, my parents still know how to swing theirs. Need any help with dressing?”

“Oh, no. I can definitely put on my own clothes.” You refrained from mentioning your wrongful placement of the jewelry earlier. “But while I’m dressing, could you tell me about yourself? “

And tell me if I’m wearing something wrong?

“Not all that much to tell, really. My mother is a palace servant, my father a guardsman. It’s a pretty common arrangement. I have mediocre swordmanship, but I’m very good at multitasking, so it was pretty obvious who I took more after. I went into training for the palace just after my schooling was completed.”

“Servants go to school too?” You asked.

“Certainly. Didn’t you?”

“Oh yeah, twelve years of it. But it wasn’t always like that. I think public schooling for everyone is pretty recent. And I’m not sure every country has it.”

“Well, we do. The law was set into place by Allfather Borr, about fifty thousand years ago. If I’m counting Midgardian years correctly.”

“Fifty thousand? “ You almost shouted. “But wasn’t he Loki-er, the Prince’s grandfather? He fought with the Vanir? It was that long ago?”

“Oh, have you been learning our history? That’s great! Yes, he was king before Allfather Odin, and he did a lot of great things. Pacifying and making reparations to the Vanir was one of them. Good thing too; they may not be as powerful as us, but they live even longer, so their memories don’t fade quickly. No one holds a grudge like a Vanir.”

You finished dressing and held your arms out from your sides for inspection. She declared you adequate, but decided to finish you up with some braids.

It turned out that Saldis was a braiding master. She knew dozens of ways to braid, for all hair lengths and textures.

Even though your hair was still green, and you still had sleep-sunken eyes, you felt fresher and less stiff. The breakfast helped tremendously. You almost felt presentable when you stepped out of your room.

Loki was in the small library again, still studying the Alfar book. He glanced at you briefly, smug smile crossing his features as he took in your green hair.

Don’t react.

“Will I be having more lessons today?” You asked.

“Not with me.” He said. “And likely not with Brunnhilde either. We’re both busy.”

“Oh. Nothing at all for me to do then?”

“Just stay put and be patient. Perhaps contact your captain, so that he doesn’t start thinking you’re trapped in my evil clutches, or some nonsense.”

Am I not?

“Sure. Do I just…you said there was a computer? I guess I could make a skype call or something. Do I need an escort?”

“Of course you do. You’re you. If I send you out on your own you’ll probably end up in Newfoundland.”

“It was one time!” You protested. “And it was your guards that kicked me out, might I remind you!”

“Speaking of…Andsvarr.” He called, and the young guard poked his head in. Loki spoke to him in their own language, lovely flowing sounds both foreign and soothing. Andsvarr nodded, bowed, then indicated that you should follow him.

“You speak with friends, yes? “ He asked on the way down the corridors. “Tell good times here?”

“Yeah, it hasn’t been bad so far. Kinda weird, but not bad. I feel like I should be freaking out a bit more than I am, but I’ve had it pointed out that I might be kinda in shock, which I guess makes sense.”

“Ah! Slow! Please.” Andsvarr begged, flipping through his little book. “Please. What ‘freaking’? Do not see.”

“Oh, sorry!” Loki had said he learned fast, but that didn’t mean he knew it all yet. Frankly, you were impressed he knew as much as he did in such a short time. You could barely pick out ‘yes’ or ‘no’ in Asgardian. “That means to be scared. So much, you can’t think.”

“Scared, yes. You are?”

“I should be. More than I am, anyway. Maybe it just hasn’t come yet.”

“I will guard.” Andsvarr promised, and you smiled. What a sweet kid.

He led you into a little room, flanked on both sides by more guards, who only let you pass after you held out your hand, and Andsvarr explained what you were to do here. You assumed, anyway. One of them left before the other opened the door.

Inside the room were a few chairs, and one completely average computer, the kind you used to use at school.

“King knows how to work it.” Andsvarr said. “We wait for him now.”

You grinned wide, and poked the power button. Andsvarr gasped as the machine booted up.

“Midgardian technology.” You explained. “I grew up with this.”

He slapped his forehead. “Yes!” He laughed.

“You will still need my password, I’m afraid.” Thor said, stepping into the room. How did a man so large make so little noise? Andsvarr bowed deeply.

“You’re Alarr’s boy, aren’t you?” Thor asked. Andsvarr answered quickly and nervously, gesturing at you. You thought you heard Loki’s name in the flow of unfamiliar words.

“Oh, really? Well, good for you! It can be very difficult, not following your fathers path, but you seem to be doing quite well for yourself.”

Something strange was going on here. Andsvarr didn’t understand that much English, spoken that fast, but he seemed to understand Thor just fine. You didn’t know why the king was using your language to talk to one of his own people.

Thor typed in his password, and you started up the video call on your own. Both men hovered on the periphery, waiting to see what happened. It was amusing, but you didn’t want whoever picked up to think you were being monitored for content.

The screen lit up with the face of a lovely ginger lady.

“Well!” She said. “You’re not the king of Asgard.”

“Definitely not.”

“But I am.” Thor leaned over your shoulder. Greetings, Lady Potts, are Tony or Steve available? We have business.”

“So I’ve heard. You must be _____ _______.”

“Yes ma’am. I’m supposed to check in every week. So here I am!”

Andsvarr asked something.

“New York. It’s a city in a country across the sea.” Thor answered.

Andsvarr asked something else.

“No, their technology comes from a different source. It’s mostly electricity based.”

“Let me go get Steve.”

“Hey, what’s going on with that?” You asked while she was gone. “You’re talking to him, but in English?”

“It’s not English. Literally everything can understand me when I speak, if I want them to. It comes with being Asgardian royalty. Loki can do it too, but he doesn’t always use the ability. He likes keeping a few secrets.”

He would want to be able to say things you couldn’t understand. Give orders you wouldn’t know about. Set up things without you being able to see it coming.

 Captain America-Steve Rogers appeared on the screen. Your insides filled with butterflies. Here was your favorite hero, once again! He wasn’t even wearing his mask.

“Good morning. Mrs. Potts tells me you’re here for your check in? Hello Thor. Young man.”

Andsvarr looked at Thor, who grinned genuinely.

“Good to see you again! Keeping busy? You see we are keeping up our end of the bargain.”

“I see. Look, not to be rude, but could you and your man-“

“Get the Hel out? I figured it would be like that. If you have time for a chat afterwards…?”

“Actually, I do. We really need to catch up.”

Thor agreed, and led Andsvarr out.

“How are you doing?”

“So much better than I was. You said you guys contacted my dad? He told you I was sick, right? Like, barely able to get out of bed, sick?”

“Yes, he did say that.”

“We’ve figured out part of what caused it.”

“Did it have something with your meeting with Loki about six months ago?”

“Er, yeah. I wouldn’t call it a meeting really, I didn’t know it was him at the time. All of that really was an accident. But hey, do you know anything about magic?”

“If you’re expecting me to say I don’t believe in it, I can’t. Seen too much.”

“Well, that makes talking about this a bit easier then. It turns out I can do magic. Or I will be able to do magic, once I learn how.”

You explained nearly everything to him, save for your remembrance of the Tragedy that Never Was, and your conflicting thoughts about Loki-those fears were not yet founded and didn’t need bringing up.

He had messages from your father and Tara, from your coworkers. You cried a little at that point, missing them all, even your old job. Then you had to reassure him that you were fine, being treated well, that no one had caused you any harm. He had a lot of questions about Loki, most of which you couldn’t answer. Somehow, neither him, nor anyone else had offered any comment on your green hair.

“Are you comfortable with showing me this mark?” He asked you, and you nodded, holding out your hand. At least the damn thing wasn’t in some embarrassing place. “We can do some research as well, just in case Loki isn’t entirely on the level about helping you out. How has it been affecting you?”

“The past few days I’ve been mostly just eating and sleeping a whole lot. I look healthier now, but it’s not all me. There’s some kind of…energy transfer, I guess? I don’t really understand it yet, but I guess I’m kinda leeching energy from Loki right now. Probably will be until I get healthy on my own again. But that’s the real reason I can’t leave. If I get too far away from him, I get sick again. I’ve already tested this; it’s true.”

“Experimental medical procedure?”

“Very experimental. But I’m okay here, I really am. No one has been cruel to me. Even Loki has been…tolerable at worst, pretty decent mostly.”

“He’s unpredictable.” He warned.

“I know. I’ve seen a bit of it. But I haven’t been hurt. I think maybe you might talk to Thor about that a little? Stuff might have happened out in space, you know?”

“Is that your way of saying you’re done talking to me?”

“Sorry! I just don’t have anything else to report. But these are good people here. Different, but good. So far, everyone’s been so kind to me, and they really didn’t have to be. I’m just some stranger their prince brought home, after all. But they’ve all been really responsible and nice. So like, if there’s ever anything that can be done for them-“

“Don’t worry about that. Thor has allies here, and all the Nordic countries have acted very positively towards this new Asgard. They have support. You just see to yourself. Make sure to tell us if anything causes you trouble, anything at all. I don’t doubt that these are good people-mostly. But they are not human, and they may not all see you as a life worth valuing. Loki himself might change his mind at any time. I’m sure Thor will try to keep him under control, but he has not always succeeded at that.”

‘I’ve been known to change my mind on less than a whim.’

“I’ll try to keep it in mind.”

“You do that, Miss. I’ll talk to you again in about a week.”

You nodded and said your goodbyes, then you went and fetched Thor, leaving him to talk, while Andsvarr escorted you back to Loki’s rooms.

[nitewrighter]

Breach Pt. IV

Previous Parts: 1, 2, 3

In Which We’re Really Glad Hanzo’s So Good At Murdering and Aedan and Rei talk a lot.

---

Night had fallen on the Urdr Lab facility. Two talon guards walked the outer perimeter, calmly chatting.

“Everything’s sequels and reboots these days. It’s bullshit,” said Talon Enforcer 3939 Callsign ‘Tyrian.’ 

“Woah, someone’s bitter,” said Talon Trooper 4783 Callsign ‘Rosso,’ “I dunno--I’d still want to see it.”

“Look, nothing’s going to top the original run---Mid-crisis, shoestring budget, skeleton film crew--Old school Midori Rider had heart. It meant something to try and tell a story like that when the world was going to shit. It’s just a cash grab at this point,” said Tyrian.

“But girl Midori Rider though---That’s interesting. We’re kind of due for it, you know?” said Rosso.

“They want to make a female-led Sentai show they’re welcome to it, they don’t need to dry-hump Midori Rider to do it. It’s just Glitchbot struggling to stay relevant,” said Tyrian. 

“See I think it would be cool to get kids into the show, then they could get into the older versions and--” Rosso stopped suddenly, “Did you hear something?”

“Maaaybe it’s the faaaairiiiies,” said Tyrian with a snicker.

“Come off it---” said Rosso.

“You know that’s how Talon got this land so cheap, right?” said Tyrian, “None of the locals wanted to build here and---”

“Tyr--hold up,” Rosso brought a hand to the side of his helmet, “Lilla--have you seen any movement in the western quadrant?” There was only dead air on the other end. “Huh...” Rosso brought his hand away from his helmet, “Must be on break?”

Tyrian shrugged.  “Anyway,” Tyrian went on, “None of the locals wanted to build here because apparently this was ‘fairy land’ and that’s how you end up with prime geothermal real estate so---” 

An arrow suddenly pierced through Tyrian’s neck.

“What the---” it took Rosso a half-beat to register that Tyrian was gurgling and bleeding out, “Shit---” He tried to put pressure to the wound but was struggling to try and get past Tyrian’s armor without disturbing the arrow and making it worse, “Shit--” Rosso brought a hand to the side of his helmet, “Requesting back---”

A second arrow pierced through his hand, and then his helmet, the plating of both stopping the arrow as its point barely kissed his temple, the comm in his helmet had cut out from the damage of the arrow. He was screaming before a second arrow pierced them through the side and he fell to the ground, groaning, one hand pierced through and pinned to the side of their helmet. “Shit--” he was dragging himself with one arm over to Tyrian. He could activate Tyrian’s comm. Request backup. Tyrian was gone at this point, he knew that much. Rosso stretched one hand toward Tyrian’s helmet, the blood pooling between both of them, when a foot came down and stepped on his hand. The pain of having his hand crushed against the walkway was all but an afterthought compared to the arrow in his side, but Rosso craned his neck up to see a graying-haired figure standing over him. A man with a bow. 

“You--” Rosso started before another arrow split through his helmet.

Hanzo regarded the two talon guards’ corpses with a grim indifference before bringing before opening his comm. “You have your opening,” said Hanzo, “Move in now.”

“Roger!” D.Va spoke over the comm lines.

Hanzo pulled a small glowing purple translocator from his quiver and dropped it on the ground. In a flash of violet, Sombra appeared out of the translocator and instantly edged her feet away from the pooling blood. 

“Yikes...” she muttered, “Remind me to stay on your good side.”

“They have my niece,” said Hanzo, already moving forward, “The Shimada Clan would never let such a slight go unanswered. Now, if you would...”

“Gotcha,” Sombra walked across the walkway with Hanzo keeping a sharp eye out before Sombra reached a door panel, “Oh Talon networks,” she said a bit  wistfully, cracking her knuckles and bringing up a purple screen, “It’s been too long.”

“Can you hack it?” said Hanzo, frowning. 

“You know who you’re talking to, right?” said Sombra, opening up a purple screen, “Now, let’s see what we can learn...”

Hanzo heard a grunt behind him, and turned around to help Genji up onto the walkway from where he had scaled the wall.

“A lot slower than usual,” said Hanzo.

“I’ll be fine,” said Genji, circling his prosthetic arm in its socket as Mercy flew in alongside him.

“Accessing and shutting down surveillance,” said Sombra.

“Wait--” Genji walked up alongside her, “Do you see Rei anywhere?”

“Haven’t seen her yet,” murmured Sombra, scrolling through various surveillance feeds of the facility, “But it’s a big facility with a lot of---” Sombra cut herself off, then opened up a second screen. The surveillance feed on her first window had gone black, and the second screen she brought up featured a rough schematic of the facility, with a bright yellow dot just a ways off-center in it. Sombra looked between her two screens. “Wherever they’re keeping her, they’ve got the cameras off for some reason,” said Sombra.

“Mein gott--what are they doing to her!?” said Mercy, running a hand through her hair in distress.

---

“...A rescue,” said Aedan, picking up the talon assassin armor next to her, “This is a rescue. I’m...” he cleared his throat a bit awkwardly, “I’m... rescuing you.”

Rei looked at him skeptically as she rose up to a more balanced sitting-up position on the stretcher.

“I know the facility,” Aedan went on, “And I have a plan.”

“And I should trust you because...?” Rei started tying her hair back with the ribbon.

“Because it’s your only option---I mean, you could try pulling what you did yesterday--running around aimlessly through Urdr and getting nowhere before the guards tranq you again, or,” he held the assassin armor out to her, “You can put this on, follow my lead, and actually have a chance.”

“And how am I supposed to know you aren’t working with Moira?” said Rei, fastening her necklace around her neck, “That this isn’t some... sick game where I’m one of her little lab rats?”

“Rabbits,” said Aedan.

“What?” 

“We use rabbits, not--I’m getting off-point. Just---” Aedan huffed, “You don’t. You don’t know if you can trust me. And that’s fair. I just...” He brought the assassin armor up a bit more insistently, “Please let me help you.”

Rei’s eyes flicked down to the assassin armor, then up to him. Hesitantly, her movements still sluggish from all the sedatives, she took the armor.

“Why are you doing this?” said Rei.

They were going to obliterate your mind, and if they couldn’t do that they were going to cut you open over and over again and every time I thought of that it made me want to throw up, the words ran through Aedan’s mind but he couldn’t say that. He looked down. “Talon...” he said slowly, “It... wants to make a world where people aren’t held back by fear and old ideas. But if it has to brainwash people to do it... that... sort of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”

“Brainwash--?” Rei’s eyes widened and then she dropped the assassin armor into her lap, pressing her hands to the sides of her head, “What did they--Is that why they---!? They’re going to--?!”

So much for not making her panic, thought Aedan. “They weren’t able to do anything yet,” said Aedan, putting a hand on her shoulder but she flinched at his touch and he quickly withdrew his hand.

“How do you know!? I can barely remember anything since London!” Rei was practically hyperventilating at this point.

“They tried. Your... dragon... took a labtech’s hand off,” said Aedan.

Rei stared at him for several seconds, her eyes still wide with panic. “It can do that?!” she blurted out.

Really not as much of a weapon as Mum said, are you? thought Aedan, before saying, “I don’t know! It’s your dragon...thing! Shouldn’t you know what it does?” 

“I thought it just healed!” said Rei. 

“Well congratulations. You can also take hands off,” said Aedan, “Now we don’t have a lot of time. Can you please put this assassin uniform on?” 

Rei bit the inside of her lip, then set the armor next to her swung her legs over the edge of the stretcher.

“Easy--” Aedan held a hand out to her, “It’s been a while since you’ve been on your feet.”

She braced her forearm against his with one arm, then pushed off of the stretcher with the other. Her legs turned to jelly beneath her only momentarily, a brief stumble before she put her free hand against his shoulder to stabilize herself, before rising a bit shakily to two feet. 

“Can you stand?” said Aedan.

Rei nodded and they broke apart. Rei turned around and unfolded the talon armor from its place on the stretcher. Mindlessly, she undid one of the fasteners at the shoulder of her hospital gown, then stopped and looked over her shoulder at him.

“Do you mind?” she said, furrowing her brow.

“No,” Aedan shrugged, then immediately caught himself, “Oh! You’re getting--right--I’m just---right, I should... get to...” he pointed at one of the lab monitors over his shoulder, “Important... rescue... things.”

“Important rescue things,” Rei muttered as Aedan turned around and walked over to the lab monitor.  “So... what is this place?” asked Rei, as Aedan tapped away at the keyboard, reviewing the various security footage of the facility.

“These are the Urdr Labs. Talon’s Iceland-based R&D facility,” said Aedan, clicking through various cameras of the facility. 

“Iceland?!” said Rei, “How long have I been here?”

Aedan counted on his fingers, “You got here around 3 AM the night before last. You’ve been here two days.”

“Feels like longer,” said Rei.

“That would be the drugs,” said Aedan, “How’s the armor?”

“...complicated,” said Rei.

“Well don’t put the gauntlets on until last. Also you need to detach the breastplate from the abdominal lames, then reattach them once the lames are around your--” Aedan looked over his shoulder mindlessly then went beet red and quickly fixed his attention back on the monitor screen. He hadn’t really seen anything. A section of her back, maybe some Pachimari-printed panties at most. But he rubbed his forehead. This whole rescue ordeal was murder on his nerves. “Once they’re around your waist,” he said, clearing his throat. 

“Is it supposed to be this tight across the ass?” muttered Rei.

“There’s a panel at the center of the belt that adjusts the waistband,” said Aedan, “Sorry... I just went by your height. They didn’t record...the other.. measurements.”

“Didn’t even get me a bra. Grabbed the hair ribbon... but the bra? Nope,” Rei was muttering under her breath.

“It didn’t... feel appropriate,” said Aedan, “It’s fine though the armor is um... it’s... supportive?”

He could feel her shooting a glare at the back of his head from across the room before she sighed and resumed fiddling around with the complicated plates of the armor.

“Are we safe here?” said Rei, looking around the lab.

“We have maybe a few more minutes at best,” said Aedan, looking through the lab footage, “I managed to put a handful of security cameras on a loop, so it should be a while before they notice you’re gone.”

“How do you know no one else is going to walk in?” asked Rei.

“This is my lab,” said Aedan a bit proudly.

Rei’s eyes trailed along the nanite amalgams in their glass tubes and tanks all along the walls. “...kind of creepy,” she said quietly.

“Wh--I’ll have you know I do very important work here!” said Aedan, whirling around, nearly stopping himself, but then finding she had the armor mostly on at this point, “Oh--here---” He got up and hurried over, helping with the last few armor latches up her back. Rei would have flinched back at his touch, but she seemed distracted by the swirling black shapes within the glass. 

“What are these things?” she asked as he got the last latch at the back of her neck secured. She broke away from him and bent over, squinting at one, “Are these... Reaper?” she said quietly. She looked over her shoulder at him, her face lit up eerily yellow by the biotic plasma the nanite amalgam was suspended in, “Are they.... you?”

“In another life, I suppose,” said Aedan with a shrug.

Rei gave him a sidelong glance. 

“Nanite amalgams,” said Aedan, “They’re masses of cells. Some organic, some not. Some derived and replicated from me, some from Reyes. We should get those gauntlets on before---” 

“Incoming call from Facility Residence C,” the computer’s AI spoke.

“...Shit,” said Aedan. He looked at Rei. “Down!” he hissed, “Get down, now!” Rei dropped to the floor, out of sight of the monitor, Aedan put a finger to his lips to signal her to be silent.

“Patching through---” said the AI as Moira appeared on the screen and Aedan attempted to compose his appearance. She looked exhausted.

“Aedan?” said Moira, “Are you there?”

“Yes! Yes I’m here,” said Aedan, attempting to look as calm as possible, “Couldn’t sleep. Decided to get some work done. You know how it is.”

A weary smile tugged at the corner of Moira’s mouth. “Leave a note next time, will you?”

“Oh---a note. Of course. I figured I’d be back before you woke up, so...” he trailed off, “I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“I’m sorry this whole situation has you so out of sorts, a thaisce,” said Moira, “The environment here is... different from Oasis, I’ll admit, but you’ve been doing brilliantly in adjusting.” 

“Well... adaptation is the basis of survival, isn’t it?” said Aedan with a slight smile. He gave a short glance down to Rei, huddled at his feet, glaring up at him and making ‘wrap it up’ gestures.

“You should get back to sleep, Mum,” said Aedan, his eyes quickly flicking back to Moira, “I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t worry about me, a thaisce, I’ll be---” the image on the screen of Moira suddenly distorted, then she paused and blinked, “Did it just---” The image distorted again, “--for you too?”

“Yeah it’s--” Aedan started and the image distorted.

“There’s something wrong--Can you--” The image distorted, “--you hear me, Aedan? Can you--?” the feed cut altogether.

“Something’s wrong,” said Aedan as Rei braced a hand on the monitor’s desk and rose to her feet, apparently swaying from the head rush.

“Easy--” said Aedan.

“So comms are down?” said Rei.

“Comms don’t just ‘go down’ for Talon, and I’m not doing this,” said Aedan, “If we’re under attack, Talon’s going to lock down everything--The airfield, the gates, the---” He stopped himself and took a steadying breath, “It’s okay. This is okay. I can figure this out.” His mouth drew to a thin line, “We can’t stay here,” he said, “We can take advantage of the scrambled comms and still get to a dropship.”

“What if it’s Overwatch?!” Rei’s face lit up.

“Would they know where you are?” said Aedan, “Are you chipped?”

“What, like a dog? Gross! No!” said Rei, putting on the Talon assassin’s helmet and having the red plate come down over her face. The eyes in the visor glinted orange as it activated. “I mean... I’m pretty sure they’d ask me if they did something like that.”

“So we can assume we’re on our own. We don’t know if the attack is on the facility itself or remotely, but either way, we can’t stay here” He handed the assassin’s gauntlets over to Rei.  “Put these on and uh... keep your hands pointed away from your face.”

Rei clicked on the gauntlets, “Why do I need to keep them pointed away from my--” A massive scarlet blade suddenly jutted out of the gauntlet, missing Aedan’s head by inches.

“...that’s why,” said Aedan.

The orange eyes of her faceplate glinted in some surprise.

“They’re retractable,” said Aedan, “Just... touch your thumb to your ring finger--”

Rei complied and the blade shot back in. With that she got the other gauntlet on. 

“Index finger extends, ring finger retracts. All right, now for the really stupid part,” said Aedan, turning back to the monitor.

“I don’t know if I like the sound of the ‘really stupid part,’” said Rei.

“We need a big enough disruption in the facility so that no one will notice a dropship leaving,” said Aedan, clicking through several programs detailing the current status of the nanite amalgams.

Command: Purge in T minus 15 minutes

A window popped up on the screen.

Readings still show Nanite Amalgams not in alternate containment. Override? Y/N

Y, Aedan typed.

Enter override code.

ashes2ashes, Aedan typed.

Accepted.

Aedan heard a snort behind him and gave a slight start how close Rei was to him.

“Ashes2ashes?” Rei said, “You’re all really... ‘None More Goth’ here at Talon, huh?”

Aedan chuckled. “We should get going,” he said, glancing at the counter that had appeared on the monitor, “Fifteen minutes and this place is going to get ugly.”

Aedan opened the door into the hall and looked around. No guards, no labtechs. He put on the labtech mask, goggles, and surgical cap once more, motioned to Rei, and together they headed down the hall. It was odd, seeing someone in full Talon assassin garb walking... like a normal person. Most Talon assassins moved like animals, to him, something alien, between feline, avian, and reptilian. The way Rei carried herself was... well... it was Rei. Their pace was brisk but if they broke out into full-on sprints, they risked drawing more attention to themselves. Rei was still a bit imbalanced from the drugs, able to walk, but looking around vaguely, sometimes her steps meandering away from him, sometimes bumping her shoulder into his, then she’d quickly resume her course as best she could. Aedan could feel his stomach knotting up with stress. They just had to get to Urdr’s airfield, type in the preset coordinates to Reykjavik, say their goodbyes, and that was it. Then “Whoops, there was an accident in my lab--what do you mean the ninja girl escaped?” and this whole thing could be put behind him.

You can’t just do something like this, One of the nagging, nattering voices in his head spoke up, You can’t just pick and choose what parts of Talon you’re going along with, and what parts you won’t, and you know it. This isn’t taking a joyride with Seye on one of the hover dollies, this is actively undermining--no, betraying, Talon. And for what?

Aedan looked over at Rei, her face hidden by the assassin’s helmet.

For what?

She’s a weapon. You’re literally handing a weapon right back to Overwatch. You’re going to have to face her one day---the two of you are going to be on opposite sides of a battlefield because you couldn’t do what had to be done tod---

“Can I ask you something?” said Rei, snapping Aedan out of his thoughts.

“Shoot,” said Aedan with a shrug, thankful there was something to interrupt the train of anxiety.

“What was your mother saying back there—the thing that kind of sounded like sneezing?” asked Rei.

Right, she’s still a bit out of it, thought Aedan. “What?” said Aedan.

“A-hesh-keh,” said Rei.

“A thaisce?” suggested Aedan.

“Yeah, that,” said Rei.

“Oh—“ Aedan reddened a little, “She just… that’s… just what she calls me…” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Irish, right?” said Rei, “What does it mean?”

Aedan felt his own face burning and then folded his arms, “It… means ‘My treasure,’” he said, figuring there was no use in lying about it.

He expected her to snicker or tease or worse at that, but she didn’t. The eyes of the assassin’s faceplate just gleamed a little. A smile? “Hey,” she said, pointing a thumb at herself, “Sunshine--Well... ‘Sunneschii.’ You’re not the only one who still has a baby nickname.”

“Of course you’re ‘sunshine,’” said Aedan, quietly, smiling a little beneath the Labtech mask.

 “Moira…She loves you, doesn’t she?” said Rei, “Like… actually loves you.”

“Wh—Of course she loves me, she’s my mother!” said Aedan, “I mean… sure, I wasn’t… born like you but…” Aedan didn’t really know how to finish that sentence.

“...so my mom was right,” Rei said quietly, “Moira didn’t have you... she made you.”

Aedan was silent for a few seconds, then straightened his shoulders and forced a grin. “Well of course,” he said, gesturing at himself with a faux-grandiloquence, “Designer.”

Rei looked at him a blankly.

“Designer... genes...” Aedan said a bit weakly.

“Are you... okay?” Rei tilted her head at him.

“Fine, just...” Aedan made a waving gesture next to his head, “Trying to figure things out. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Rei extended a hand and touched his arm. He looked from her hand, to her. Her expression, naturally, was unreadable with the red faceplate of a Talon assassin, but somehow there was something steady in the orange glint of her visor.

“...Thank you,” she said after a beat, “I... I still don’t know if this is all some sick game on Moira’s end but... if it isn’t... you’re risking a lot. So thank you.”

“Not that your skepticism isn’t fully justified but... what’s it going to take for you to see this isn’t some sick game on my mum’s end?” said Aedan.

“Getting back to Gibraltar,” said Rei.

“...Fair,” said Aedan, “I’ll do my best to get you there, then.”

The lights suddenly dimmed and an alarm started blaring.

“This is the stupid part of the plan, right?” said Rei, looking at Aedan.

Aedan checked the timer on his comm. “...nnno,” he said slowly, “It’s about 8 minutes too early for the stupid part.”

“Oh...” said Rei, “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

“We’ve been in trouble, but now we’re in more trouble, yes,” said Aedan.

[devptel]

Hey favourite captain America movies scenes?

OH BOY! OH DUDE!

(i wrote this whole thing out with my favourite scenes from all Cap movies and it was so fucking long it was almost embarrassing and definitely unnecessary so i cut out everything but CA:TWS and it’s still so fucking long, i apologise but also i don’t)

My favourite scenes in the winter soldier are Every scene™ Best Movie Ever Made™ Single handedly saved the film industry™ but some personal favourites are:

-”On your left” and Steve having a great time being a Little Shit™/ Sam and Steve’s back and forth

-”I’m here to pick up a fossil”

-Steve jumping out of the plane without a parachute because he’s not just a little shit he’s a Dramatic Little Shit™

-The whole of him infiltrating the ship to free the hostages and the crazy dramatic parkour of it all, like we get it Steve, we see The Beef™, we get it

-”I’m multi-tasking” / ”Hey sailor” (just Natasha™ and everything she ever does and says and is)

-*Puts away shield, takes off helmet* “on va voir” Dramatic. Little. Shit.™

-”Last time I trusted someone I lost an eye” and more of a look into Fury’s past and who he is (!!)

-“This isn’t freedom this is fear” (Every line in that scene and the clear emphasis on the stark difference between Fury’s morals and way of thinking and Steve’s)

-Little kid in the Captain America shirt noticing Steve at the Captain America exhibit/ Steve visiting the exhibit (how many times has he done that? just gone alone to see footage of his old friends? gone to remember why he started fighting? and why he still is?, i’m crying.)

-THE PEGGY SCENE i’m still crying and i’m never stopping 

-Steve visiting Sam’s support group (”You could do whatever you want to do, what makes you happy?” “I dunno” bruh. i am still crying.)

-”Air conditioning is fully operational” and THAT WHOLE ENTIRE SCENE with special EMPHASIS on bucky shooting a bomb on the car and dramatically stepping out the way just before it explodes and crushes him (also the winter soldier theme is beautiful and haunting and THAT SOUNDTRACK THO)

-”EARS EVERYWHERE” “SHEILD COMPROMISED” Fury in Steve’s apartment/ Fury getting shot “Don’t trust anyone” + Steve going after Bucky (“Tell them i’m in pursuit” *Dramatic Music* BUSTS THROUGH FIVE DIFFERENT WALLS. truly the biggest drama queen to exist)

-Natasha’s face when Steve said “he had a metal arm” (give me bucky/nat or give me death!) 

-Natasha watching Fury die ”Don’t do this to me Nick” have i stopped crying yet? no. 

-Natasha questioning Steve “You’re a terrible liar”/ Steve hiding TOP SECRET shield files in a VENDING MACHINE what the fuck rogers 

-More information about Fury! Alexander Pierce! “Did he tell you he bugged it?” Pierce subtly trying to get Steve to distrust Fury PLANTING SEEDS OF DOUBT! A CORRUPT SYSTEM! PLAYING TO STEVES ALREADY WARY ATTITUDE TOWARDS FURY AND WHAT SHIELD IS UP TO AND HIDING FROM HIM! “He told me not to trust anyone” “I wonder if that included him?” STEVE NOT BUYING IT!

-THE ELEVATOR SCENE™ !!!

-Steve full on just JUMPING OUT A WINDOW to escape “Are you kidding me!?” hard same Shield agent hard same

-Natasha popping the bubblegum behind Steve can you say Iconic™ ? / Natasha and Steve’s back and forth talking about the winter soldier “He shot him straight through me” 

-Natasha and Steve going undercover/ Steve running over their options on fighting as Shield agents approach them, vs. Natasha’s ”Shut up and put your arm around me, laugh at something I said” Steve thinking like a soldier, Natasha thinking like a spy.

-The dialogue as they’re driving: “Truth is a matter of circumstance, it’s not all things, to all people, all the time, and neither am I” “That’s a tough way to live” “It’s a good way not to die though” // “Who do you want me to be?” “How bout a friend?” “There’s a chance you might be in the wrong business rogers” (also the way she drags out ‘wrong business rogers’ like fuck me up)

-Steve and Natasha infiltrating the old Shield base: “Shall we play a game?” ZOLA! HYDRA! “Operation paperclip after World War II Shield recruited german scientists with strategic value” SHEILD DOOMED ITSELF FROM THE BEGINNING! HIRING HYDRA AGENTS! LETTING RED SKULL DIRECTLY INTO THEIR SYSTEMS! “cut off one head two more shall take it’s place” 

- ‘Anthony and Maria Stark die in car crash’ “accidents will happen” (I OUT LOUD GASPED AT THIS PART WHEN I SAW IT IN THE CINEMA FOR THE FIRST TIME STILL GETS ME)

-“We won Captain, your death amounts to the same as your life, a zero sum”

-Pierce talking to Bucky in the shadows plus the maid walking in ”Sorry Mr. Pierce I forgot my phone” “Oh Renata I wish you would have knocked” and then him shooting her. Yikez™

-SAM WILSON™

-More Steve/ Natasha back and forth (!!) “You seem pretty chipper for someone who just found out they died for nothing” / A LOOK INTO NATASHAS BACKSTORY (!!!!) “looks like i just traded in the KGB for Hydra” (!!!)

-”..throw me off a building? that’s not really your style rogers” ”You’re right it’s not, it’s hers” NATASHA JUST STRAIGHT UP KICKING A MAN OFF A BUILDING ICONIC! AMAZING! 

-HIGHWAY FIGHT SCENE! HIGHWAY FIGHT SCENE! HIGHWAY FIGHT SCENE!!!!!! DID SOMEONE SAY HIGHWAY FUCKING FIGHT SCENE !!!!

-”Bucky?” “Who the hell is Bucky?”

-MARIA HILL! “She’ll want to see him first” FURY FAKED HIS OWN DEATH! “Can’t kill you if you’re already dead” ALSO ((“I wasn’t sure who to trust” then he looks at Natasha???? I’m sure it’s because he knows the past between her and Bucky and didn’t know if it might compromise her IM SURE OF IT))

-BUCKY BACKSTORY + “ the man on the bridge who was he? (…)  i knew him (…)  but i knew him.” + a little look at the torture they put him through, Yikez™.

-”This man declined the noble peace prize, he said peace wasn’t an achievement it was a responsibility” (…) “see it’s stuff like this that gives me trust issues” Great lines. Great characterisation of both Pierce and Fury in just two sentences. 

-”we’re not salvaging anything we’re not just taking down Hydra we’re taking down Shield too”  ”Shield had nothing to do with it” Fury still having faith in a flawed system! because it’s how he knows how to help! Steve being fed up with it! Doesn’t like people who keep secrets! Doesn’t like how Shield and the bad guys seem to always go hand in hand! “Hydra grew right under your nose and nobody noticed” “I noticed” “How many paid the price before you did?”

-Dramatic Bridge scene™ Bucky Flashbacks™ “I can get by on my own” “The thing is you don’t have to, I’m with you till the end of the line pal” Oh you think I stopped crying? Wrong again.

-”IF YOU’RE GONNA FIGHT A WAR YOU GOTTA WEAR A UNIFORM”

-STAN LEE™

-CAPTAIN AMERICA SPEECH OVER THE INTERCOM ON THE SHIELD BASE! “The price of freedom is high, and it’s a price i’m willing to pay.” THATS MY BOY! THATS MY DUDE!

-”Send those ships up now” “Sorry sir (..) i’m not going to launch those ships, Captains orders” I ?? loved this ??? the little guy standing up even when it doesn’t benefit him, ESPECIALLY when it doesn’t benefit him, the little guy fighting for what he knows is right, is anything more Captain America™ than that? don’t think so. + “You picked the wrong side agent” “Depends on where you’re standing”

-MORE FIGHT SCENES. LOVE ME THEM FIGHT SCENES. 

-“What if Pakistan marched into Mumbai tomorrow and you knew they were going to drag your daughters into a soccer stadium to execute them? and you could stop them with a flick of a switch, wouldn’t you?” (PIERCE FIRMLY BELIEVING HE’S THE GOOD GUY! THAT HE’S FIGHTING FOR THE WORLD! PEACE IS A RESPONSIBILITY!) + “Not if it was your switch” 

”I’m sorry did I step on your moment?” TRULY ICONIC™ HOW CAN ONE PERSON BE SO ICONIC™ ?

-Natasha releasing the classified Shield files (!!) “If you do this none of your past is going to remain hidden, are you sure you’re ready for the world to see you as you really are?” “Are you?”

-FALCON™

-THAT WINTER SOLDIER THEME! IM NOT OVER IT! AND I NEVER WILL BE! MOVIE SOUNDTRACKS AMIRIGHT!

-”Company’s coming” THAT DRAMATIC AS HELL ENTRANCE BY NICK FURY THO Natasha’s not the only iconic™ one around here

-”Why make me head of Shield?” “Cause you were the best and the most ruthless person I ever met” “I did what I did to protect people”  “Our enemies are your enemies Nick, disorder, war, it’s just a matter of time before a dirty bomb goes off in Moscow or an EMP fries Chicago, diplomacy is holding action Nick (..) and you know where i learnt that? from you, you didn’t ask Nick you just did what had to be done. I can bring order to the lives of 7 billion people by sacrificing 20 million, it’s the next step, if you have the courage to take it”  “No I have the courage not to” (THE BACK AND FORTH WITH THESE TWO! NOT JUST TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN BUT QUITE OFTEN THE SAME SIDE OF THE SAME COIN! JUST NOT IN THIS INSTANCE! THE TENSION THAT CREATES IS INSANE! THE GREYING OF THE MORALS! THE BLURRING OF THE LINES! THATS SOME SMART AS HELL WRITING BABES!)

-“You don’t think we wiped your clearance from the system?” “I know, you erased my password, probably deleted my retinal scan, but if you want to stay ahead of me Mr. Secretary, you need to keep both eyes open” *lifts up eyepatch* now I know i’ve said iconic a few times already but really that’s iconic™  

-BUCKY VS. STEVE ON THE HELICARRIER. “people are gonna die Buck, i can’t let that happen, please don’t make me do this” 

-SAM vs. RUMLOW “man shut the hell up” + Rumlow on his way to becoming Crossbones thoooo it’s a real thing of beauty

-bucky shooting steve. steve’s face when it happens. just checking in that i’m still crying? yep you betcha dude

-”There was a time i would have taken a bullet for you” “You already did” . I love old friends that become enemies. I love it. Please more.

-Natasha using her widow’s bites on herself. “Ow those really do sting” BADASS.

- “41st floor!, 41st!” “Not like they put the floor numbers on the outside of the building!”

-Steve saving Bucky.

-Steve trying to get Bucky to remember who he is “i’m not going to fight you, you’re my friend” “You’re my mission” “Then finish it, cause i’m with you till the end of the line” 

-Bucky saving Steve.

-On your left

-COURTROOM SCENE™  TRULY AMAZING “Hydra was selling you lies not intelligence” “Many of which you seem to have a personal hand in telling (..) There are many that feel given your service for this country and against it that you belong in a penitentiary not mouthing off on capitol hill”  “You’re not gonna put me in a prison you’re not gonna put any of us in a prison you know why?” “Do enlighten us” “Because you need us (..) The world is a vulnerable place and yes we help make it that way, but we’re also the best qualified to defend it, so if you wanna arrest me, arrest me, you’ll know where to find me” THAT SMIRK. (also ‘the world is a vulnerable place and yes we help make it that way’ I LOVE THAT. acknowledgement that the very existence of superheroes is the reason for the existence of supervillians, reminds me of joker/batman dynamics LOVE IT)

-STEVE AND NATASHA FRIENDSHIP + “be careful Steve you might not want to pull on that thread”

-”You’re going after him” “You don’t have to come with me” “I know. When do we start?”

-And those dope credits tho

THIS IS TOO LONG IM SO SORRY 

I also love that I said “some personal favourites are” like I didn’t just write out the whole entire goddamn movie in plot points lmao fuck thats my bad

[sarcasmoverlordxo]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Captain America (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Original Female Character Additional Tags: Polyamory, Fluff Series: Part 1 of Stuck in the MIddle Summary:

Sarah is a scholarship recipient for Stark Industries where she plans on doing her pre-thesis research. But when she falls, quite literally, into the lives of two super soldiers, are her butterflies just a crush? Or something more?

This story contains mostly fluff, eventual StevexOC and BuckyxOC (poly relationship). There are no content warnings.

I’m hoping to update about once per week!

~Chapter 1~

I’d only been at Stark Industries for a week, but still hadn’t done anything other than safety training. It was so safe, in fact, that I spent the whole time at the small desk in my apartment, reading information slideshows and listening to repetitive and unnecessary lectures on eye protection. It was like I’d never been in a lab before. The pedantic voiceover droned on in the background as I read a different, and wholly unrelated book. The previous intern must have left it; a crime novel set in the fifties. The lecture had finished, and I set the book aside to take the final safety quiz. Stark Industries’ biology department had put me up in one of their many apartments reserved for visiting scientists or employees who didn’t want to commute. It was generous, and rent-free.

My first week consisted of safety training videos, watching tv, and occasionally visiting the gym. The company cafeteria, located one floor below the lobby, was well equipped and offered a variety of food options. I’d spent a fair amount of time there as well, whether it was with a cup of coffee and a book, or dinner by the television. It grew tedious, and I itched to get into that lab; I’d worked so hard to get here and my anxiety didn’t help, especially with the pressure of my thesis weighing on my mind. I kept in touch with my best friend, Kate, who kept suggesting that I explore Manhattan, but it was so intimidating, and I just kept making excuses.    

So on Friday night, at seven o’clock, I found myself sitting in the cafeteria with a plate full of food, watching Jeopardy. The cafeteria was mostly empty except for a few employees I’d seen in the hallways. I ate slowly, trying to burn more time; I had two days until I started in the lab, and though I was certain it would be another lengthy safety orientation, it was something. I’d tried earlier in the week to go out into the city, but two blocks away from Stark Tower, I panicked and returned to the quiet safety of my apartment. It wasn’t that I was afraid of people, it was the crowds, and the noise, and the overwhelming feeling of being so lost. Eventually, I figured, I’d make it out there.

Behind me, the elevator doors opened, and a few others shuffled out just as I was trying, and failing, to guess a right answer on Jeopardy. A few stragglers settled into tables throughout the room, some leaving, others relaxing as time passed. A while later, I returned my plate and searched for something sweet. Of course, Stark had an ice cream bar. Finding a bowl, I made my way across the cafeteria when suddenly, my feet slid out from beneath me. I landed with a thud on the hard floor, my bowl shattering beside me. My tailbone hurt, but I think my pride took most of the pain as I sat up. Maybe no one saw that…

“Are you okay?” Crap.

“Yeah,” I sighed, looking up, then froze. Of course I not only make a clumsy fool of myself, but I do so in front of Captain America himself. I could feel my face redden. “Yeah… thanks.” I replied, accepting his hand as he helped me up. Then, I felt the wet spot on my jeans; I’d landed in a spill. “I… should get a broom for the broken-” Pausing, I watched as another person stood from brushing the shattered bowl into a small dustpan.

“All taken care of,” He said, turning to meet me. “You alright?” His face seemed familiar, but something shiny caught my eye and it clicked: The Winter Soldier.

“Yeah, thanks,” I replied, smoothing myself out.

“You sure? You look a bit flushed,” Bucky replied.

“Yeah, just a bit embarrassed.” I chuckled nervously. “Thanks for the help.”  

Resting his hand on my shoulder, Steve smiled. “It’s no problem. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “I’m Sarah, by the way.”

“Steve,” he said, and motioned to his friend: “Bucky.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I replied.

“We were just going to get some ice cream,” Bucky said, then turned to Steve. “Because someone ate all of mine. Would you like to join us?”

“Oh, wow, thanks. Yeah!” I replied, stepping carefully around the spill. “Maybe I should get something for that?”

“I’ve got it,” Steve replied. “You guys go and I’ll meet you.” I thanked him and followed Bucky toward the ice cream where he immediately began piling nearly every flavor into his bowl. I must have looked amazed, because he shrugged, smiling bashfully back at me.

“What? My metabolism is ridiculous!”

“You should see him when he eats dinner,” Steve commented, appearing beside me.

“You’re one to talk,” Bucky parried, the two chuckling at their banter. I couldn’t help but to laugh along. Our bowls full, I followed them to a table, my palms itching with nervous sweat. I tried not to act like a crazy fangirl- I’m sure they had enough of that. I’d seen coverage of the New York invasion on the news, and footage of Bucky helping with other efforts, but never thought I’d actually run into them here.

“So are you new?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, I was just hired for the genetic research team,” I replied.

“Cool- what are you studying?” Bucky asked.

“I’m actually working here as a part of my thesis.” Bucky nodded, spooning ice cream into his mouth. “I’m studying preventative measures for terminal illnesses and rare diseases. And... I’m actually basing it off of your altered immune systems.” There was a pause, and I expected them to get up and leave, but when they didn’t I laughed. “I didn’t expect to actually meet you guys!”

“So basically,” Steve said, swallowing his ice cream, “you think that the changes to us can be useful for more than just brute strength?”

“I mean, it’s not a super original idea,” I shrugged, “there are variations of it being studied, but I’m focusing on how your immune systems work, as well as your incredibly fast healing abilities and how that can translate to vaccines and treatments. Some of the research that Stark’s company has released is really promising.”

“That sounds really cool,” Bucky smiled. “It’s good to know that something good can come from all this.” We fell into a silence that, to me, felt awkward, but they didn’t seem to mind. “So when do you start your research?

“I finished the mandatory training videos, so I start on Monday in the lab.”

“Are you going home for the weekend?”

“No,” I shook my head at Bucky. “They put me up in an apartment.”

“Ah,” Steve nodded. “So are you doing anything fun then?” I shrugged.

“Not really. I don’t know anyone here, so I was just going to stay in and review my preliminary research. Why do you ask?” Steve and Bucky exchanged glances, then Steve spoke.

“A few of us our going out tomorrow night. Why don’t you join us?”

“Us?”

“Yeah,” Bucky replied. “Nat, Bruce- if we can convince him. Maybe Stark’ll show up.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude-”

“We wouldn’t offer if we weren’t serious,” Bucky smiled. “Give me your room number and we’ll pick you up around 7.”

We parted in the elevator, stopping at my floor first. I said goodbye, promising that I’d be ready by 7, and hurried back to my room. All of the nervous laughter I’d held in poured out of me as I sat on my bed. Holy crap. As if researching at Stark Industries wasn’t cool enough, I’d just met, and had ice cream with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.

I texted Kate the whole story and got nothing but excited responses and questions. Were they as tall as they looked on tv? Yes! Were they attractive? Of course. They seemed so real, especially Steve; he acted like we were just regular people- friends even! I didn’t see any hint of self-righteousness that the papers said he had. But that smile, straight out of an old movie! Bucky, I haven't heard much of until recently. But even he was kind and welcoming. His playful smile wouldn't leave my mind; he probably smiled at every girl he saw like that, but it still didn’t take away my excitement. Another text made me pause: what are you going to wear?

Crap. I’d brought mostly comfortable and lab-appropriate clothes as well as one or two more professional outfits. I’d have to figure something out.

***

Saturday morning seemed to take forever as I tossed and turned. I couldn’t figure out what I was more nervous about: starting my research on Monday, or going out on Saturday night. It was definitely going out. I was confident in my knowledge and my skills in the lab. My social life? Not so much. Honestly, I wasn’t sure whether it was my lack of an outfit, or not knowing what to say. Both. The answer was both. Well there wasn’t much I could do about it, at least so early. So I climbed out of bed and got ready for the day.

The Stark gym was open twenty four hours, so I made my way there in hopes that I could burn out some of my nervous energy. After setting up my headphones and some Netflix, I settled into a rhythm on the elliptical machine. After a while, a new episode came on, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt a tap on my arm. It was Steve. I pulled the headphones out of my ears and greeted him.

“I didn’t mean to scare you!” He smiled, holding his hands up.

“Sorry!” I laughed.

“Good show?”

“Yeah, definitely.” He settled himself on the treadmill beside me. “You’re up early.”

“I’m a morning person.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal.

“I hate mornings.”

“And you’re here?” I paused.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Everything okay?” His blue eyes focused on me, searching for any indication of injury.

“Yeah, I just have a lot on my mind.” Silently he tilted his head, inviting me to continue. “I’m starting my lab research on Monday which means that in a few months I’ll be starting my dissertation. It’s just a lot to think about.”

“You sounded pretty excited about it last night,” Steve replied, punching the speed into the treadmill. “I’m sure your research will turn out great and you’ll have no problem with your dissertation.”

“Thanks, Steve,” I smiled. “I really appreciate it. So what are you up to today?”

“Nothing much,” he shrugged. “Laundry. Maybe read a bit more. I’m still catching up on a few years of books right now.”

“Reading anything good?”

“Uh… Lord of the Flies at the moment,” he replied.

“I remember that one. Light reading?” He laughed.

“Yeah, I’m not a fan of it so far, but I get what they’re trying to show.” Pausing, he adjusted the treadmill again. “What about you?”

“Probably the same. Maybe watch tv or something. My friend keeps hounding me to go out, but I wouldn't know where to start.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” I paused. “I’ve never been here before, so it’s a bit overwhelming.”

“Never?” I shook my head. “How’s this: after we finish here, we grab some breakfast and I’ll show you around. We’re going out at 7 and it’s still early.”

“Steve, you don’t have to do that,” I replied.

“I don’t have to, but I want to,” He smiled. “What do you say?”

“Alright, you win!”

After we finished, I ran back to my apartment to shower and change. He met me shortly after, and we took the elevator down to the cafeteria together. He regaled me with stories of lost fights and how different the city was back before the war. Then, we chatted over coffee about nothing in particular. I loved watching him talk about his life before; his face would change and he’d smile, remembering his odd jobs and how Bucky used to get him out of trouble. His eyes lit up when he spoke about him and I wondered if the rumors online were true. Soon enough, Bucky appeared, joining our table with a plate full of food.

“Hey! You didn’t invite me?” Bucky asked, glancing from me to Steve.

“You were still sleeping, Buck.” Steve replied. “And I know you hate being woken up.”

“Anyway,” I added, “ you’re welcome to join us now.”

“Thanks, doll,” Bucky smiled. I couldn’t help the blush that spread across my cheeks.

“Sarah here has never been to Manhattan before,” Steve began. “I’m going to show her around a bit after breakfast.”

“Sounds like fun,” Bucky replied. “Mind if I join you?”

Steve glanced over at me, stage-whispering conspiratorially: “What do you think? Should we let him come?” I couldn’t stop a small laugh as I played along.

“I don’t know, it seems like he’d only attract trouble.”

“Me? Trouble?” Bucky gasped, holding his hands up in mock defense. “I’m an angel. Besides, has this guy told you about his fights? Trouble follows him.”

“He’s got a point, Steve,” I laughed. “Besides, seeing the city with two native Brooklyn-ites sounds like twice the fun.”

“I knew you’d come around,” Bucky teased. “Let me finish my food and I’ll get washed up.” Shortly after, I was once more in the elevator with them, but this time we made our way to Bucky’s room. Steve and I sat on the couch as he disappeared into his bedroom to change.

It was an odd yet pleasing mixture of vintage and modern. The furniture and appliances were all new- no doubt Stark’s design, but the pictures, framed newspaper clippings, and knick-knacks around the room were definitely from the 50s. Looking closer, I noticed that a lot of the pictures had Steve in them some way or another. Beside the door, two bomber jackets were hanging up, both similar sizes, but one’s name patch was slightly visible: ROG- Could that be Steve’s? I felt his gaze on me and looked away; I’d been caught staring too long.

Truthfully, I didn’t mind Bucky tagging along, although it did feel nice to have Steve’s full attention. I’d always been attracted to him- what person wouldn’t? - but to get to know him was something else. Those hopeless butterflies were starting up, and they were only getting stronger.

“So where are we heading first?” I asked as Bucky joined us.

“You’ve got a ton of options,” Steve began, “there’s museums, shops, attractions…”

Bucky chimed in: “Let’s go walk around and see what catches our eye.”

“Sounds good to me!” I replied. Once more, we made our way down the elevator and through the building’s main entrance. Steve had tucked a well-worn ball cap on his head, the embroidery indicating that it was for a World War II veteran, and settled beside me. Bucky did the same, settling on the other side.

The city was loud; there was no way to dispute that! Between the people and the music from restaurants and big, flashing billboards, it was all so much. Times Square, which I’d only ever seen on tv, was just as I’d anticipated. The warm autumn air seemed to breeze by with the cars and taxis that passed. We walked for a while, Steve pointing out an attraction or store he thought I’d like. There were, of course, less touristy places closer to Stark Tower, but the oversized windows with bright displays were fun to look at.

As the crowds grew thicker, Bucky trailed along behind us, quiet for most of the time, only adding a thought or comment on occasion. Steve, however, was practically my tour guide. He even haggled down a cheesy “I heart NY” shirt for me after taking a few pictures with the store’s owner. By the time lunch rolled around, we were in the center of Times Square. The city was still overwhelming, but it felt less so, especially having someone who knew it intimately. I wasn’t worried about getting lost or looking stupid, even when I asked Steve how avenues and blocks worked. He’d explained it without hesitation or judgement and I knew that he would be a really good friend. We stopped at a food cart which looked questionable, but the two swore that there was never a better place to get a hot dog or pretzel. We found a spot on the large set of bleachers set up in the center area and chowed down. They were right: the food was really good!

“Guys, thank you so much for taking me out today!” I said, stretching my achy feet out across the seat in front of me.

“It’s our pleasure,” Bucky smiled, tapping his foot against mine. “Everyone needs a good day in the city.”

“I’m serious- you guys make me feel so welcome.”

“You are welcome,” Steve smiled, and nudged my shoulder. It felt good to have a friend, especially two who were so kind.

“We should go to one of these places sometime,” Bucky suggested. “Maybe the wax museum?”

“Oh that’d be cool!” I nodded.

“It’s a date then.” Bucky smiled up at me.

“Was there anything else you wanted to see?” Steve asked. I looked across the massive area and a really cheesy idea popped into my mind.

“Actually…” I paused, wondering if I should actually suggest it. They seemed playful enough. “I’d like a picture with Captain America.”

Steve paused, his eyebrows bent in confusion. A moment later, Bucky started to laugh, finally seeing what I’d noticed earlier. “I think I’d like one too,” he added.

“Huh? Oh… oh!” Steve’s gaze finally settled on the costumed character across the way. Bucky’s smile turned wolfish. “No way guys, really?”

“Please?” I asked, leaning into his side. He sighed and nodded, following me and Bucky down the bleachers toward the mass of costumed characters. Fetching my phone from my purse, I flagged down the Captain America guy who smiled at three new customers.

“No,” Steve said, taking my phone away, “if I have to do this, you two are coming in the picture with me!”

“What do you think, Bucky?” I asked. He grinned, snatching Steve’s hat and placed it on my head.

“Let’s do this.” When it was our turn, Steve handed my phone to the character’s companion and we all huddled in, Steve’s arm wrapped around my shoulder while the other showed a thumbs up to match the character’s pose. Bucky handed the guy a few dollars and we made our way back toward the tower, Steve’s arm still across the back of my shoulders, his hand gently resting on the side of my arm.

There were still a few hours until we’d be heading out, so we all piled into the elevator and went back up to Bucky’s room where we promptly collapsed onto the couch. I was situated in the middle, and settled into Steve’s side, his arm staying draped across my shoulders. Bucky set the tv on a game show, and I felt myself start to drift off. The tv’s dull noise lulled me deeper and I rested my head on Steve, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and fell asleep.

***

Something shifted beneath me and I felt myself pulled into that semi-sleep, just long enough to hear someone say: “It’s alright, sweetheart. Go back to sleep.” Happy to oblige, I faded back into dreams.  

***

Thank you so much for reading!! Feedback (even a little thumbs up!) is always appreciated! I’m hoping to update about once per week!

[jack-merridoomed]

ITS DONE GUYSS WAKE UP

lotf if they just had phones (ralger)