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americasass81 · 29 days ago

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Where The Heart Leads

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Mostly Fluff, Use of Pet Name, Very Brief Bomb Mention, Very Brief Mention of Anxiety, Feelings of Insecurity, Very Minor Implied Sex. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- Some time in the making, this companion piece to my dark/soft CEO Steve Rogers fic Deck The Balls , a special shoutout has to go to @navybrat817 , @stargazingfangirl18 (and of course @drabblewithfrannybarnes ) for inspiring this Hoeliday creation. Thank you so much lovelies.

Challenge parameters:- CEO Johnny Storm (Character), “Sweetheart, that (article of clothing) just got you added to the naughty list.” (Dialogue), Cuddling for warmth (scenario)

Author’s Note 2:- Although a reader insert in their original tale, for the purposes of this fic, Steve’s gal is given a name here.

Author’s Note 3:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- It’s the start of the Holiday Season and a mysterious box may just hold the key to your dreams … if you're only brave enough to seize the opportunity.

Pairings:- soft!CEO Johnny Storm x Reader.

Total Word Count:- 5,568

Turning off your computer, leaving your desk and checking in on Francine before you made your way down to the conference room, your mind was still struggling with what you were doing and how you were dressed. And your friend's reaction didn't help matters. Working alongside her now these past five years as Johnny Storm's personal assistant, it was safe to say you had ended up with the better boss. Well at least the more easy going one anyway. For while Steve Rogers was by the book in office interactions, Johnny by comparison was easy to talk to, quick with a joke and seemed well aware of the type of appeal he had with the ladies. Not that he ever mixed things up at the office as far as you knew. Neither of the guys did.

But Steve, while still easy on the eyes, was definitely far more reserved and expected excellence from every member of staff that considered this their place of employment. Not that Francine ever seemed to mind and god knows she never complained. Working every bit as late, if not later, than her own boss Steve Rogers, you just hoped she would take some time to enjoy the Christmas party she had worked so tirelessly to make perfect. After all, if anyone in the company deserved to let loose and enjoy themselves it was her. So why then did it feel like that particular task had been passed on to you? Not that you had time to ask her however as a more pressing question took precedence at this time having been in the back of your mind all day.

--- BEGIN FLASHBACK ---

Stepping off the elevator together that morning as the janitorial staff were just unplugging the last of their equipment, you and Francine continued to chat through the common appointments for the day before the large boxes waiting on your desks brought a stop to your conversation and a puzzled look settled on both of your faces ... for these unexpected deliveries did not belong here. Looking back and forth now between each other and the mysterious items before then casting your gazes towards the janitorial staff, a quick step out of her office door by Francine told you that she was taking charge of the situation like always. Something you were only too grateful for as you watched her go.

Striding towards Larry, the head janitor, with a purpose you had seen her display countless times around the office when things weren't running the way they should, a quick conversation later and she was back at your office door now apparently no wiser than when she had left her own. "Larry doesn't know what they contain or who dropped them off," she explained, glancing now between you and the beautifully wrapped box taking up a nice portion of your desk space, "any ideas what we should do about them?" she then inquired and you had to admit that this was not the reaction you had expected. After all, Francine had three more years experience of working here over you, which meant she at least should have had some idea how best to handle this.

Thankfully for you however it seemed this question had been rhetorical as she ignored your vacant stare now and hurried back into action.

Striding across the hall towards her own office once more whilst simultaneously removing her jacket, she quickly dropped both it and her bag neatly just outside the door and then carefully moved beside her desk in a manner that still left her with a clear pathway out again should her next actions not go favorably.

Taking mental notes meanwhile on every action she took now from your own office doorway, you moved out into the hallway however when she beckoned you forwards but stopped just as swiftly when she gestured for you to do so. It seemed she wanted you in the hallway ready to make a run for it should the need arise. Which didn't bring you any comfort whatsoever. But her added gesture for you to remain quiet meant this was a concern you were not permitted to voice it seemed. Continuing to stare in silence now as Francine then slowly, but carefully, brought her ear down to the package, your heart meanwhile thundered in your chest as the seconds ticked by and you didn't know how much more uncertainty you could handle until flesh met paper and finally Francine's thumb appeared upright before your frightened eyes to indicate that everything was all right.

Or at least as all right as it could be given what she had suspected. No way were you prepared it seemed to deal with a bomb threat now or at any time in the future. But thankfully you wouldn't have to apparently. Breathing a sigh of relief now while picking up her jacket and bag and joining her in her office as both of you still looked suspiciously at the exquisite package, Francine next examined it for any signs of identification before asking you to do the same.

Returning to your own office now and noticing no card, writing or anything of any informative value, both of you now took a quick glance at the office clock before Francine decided that enough time had been wasted on this useless endeavor. So picking up the phone and ringing down to the main floor, a hurried yet precise conversation with Melissa at reception told her that these two packages had not been professionally delivered, had not gone through reception as was the required protocol and were not even mentioned in the catalog of deliveries for any day this week.

Which in your mind left only one possible explanation ... these had to have somehow been arranged by your bosses. But whether Francine agreed with that assessment remained to be seen.

Placing the phone back down and taking one last withering look at the clock again, Francine next took hold of either end of the cover and carefully lifting it off, pulled back the tissue inside to reveal a glimpse of what looked to be the most beautiful dress she had ever seen before. Suspecting now that this was probably meant to be worn to the Christmas party taking place beneath her feet this very night, she skimmed her fingers lightly over the shimmering material before placing the cover back on, moving the package to the nearest available out of the way surface and turning her attention back to you. "Well go on, see what someone gifted you," she said with a smile before watching you walk back to your office while she instead went about starting off her working day.

Doing now as she had done and also revealing a dress far more beautiful and expensive than anything you had ever imagined setting eyes on, let alone wearing, the ding of the main elevator told you your conversation with Francine regarding the possible source of these garments and what to do with them would now have to wait until a quieter time presented you with the opportunity. As it was, working for Steve Rogers and Johnny Storm, that quieter time would apparently be when the office had shut down for the holiday season and you were on your way to the party in the very same dress that was now meant to be part of that postponed conversation. And what a conversation that ended up being.

--- END FLASHBACK ---

Looking up from her desk and the mountain of work she had laid out before her as you cleared your throat to get her attention, her eyes practically popping out of their sockets as you gave her a little twirl was nothing compared to the greeting she gave you when you finally stopped moving. "Well don't you look sexy this festive season. I hope your secret admirer gets to appreciate you in that getup," she teased with a smile as you made your way further into her office before taking a seat in one of the empty chairs in front of her desk.

Smiling back at her now while your eyes flicked between her workload, her business attire and her own boxed up dress still sitting off to the side where she had left it that morning, you quickly decided now was as good a time as any to tell her your theory on the dresses while making sure that a party appearance had been marked on her calendar. Her response however was not what you expected.

Confirming that such an appearance was indeed on the cards once she finished up the waiting emails and signed her name to the last few documents in the top folder, your delight took a pummeling however when she pointed out the flaws in your theory regarding the dresses. For one it seemed that while she trusted Rogers and Storm to handle meetings and run an extremely successful company, that trust did not extend to them knowing how to order two high end ladies dresses and get them delivered to their place of employment without anyone around them ever finding out. Secondly, which was a point you totally had to agree on, she couldn't see how they could have gotten both of your measurements correct enough for the dresses in question to fit as well as yours obviously did.

No, she may not have known who sent them but she was fairly certain that this was one task way outside the expertise, not to mention the comfort zone, of the two men whose corporate asses both of you covered on a daily basis. And now that you thought about it from the point of view of all you actually did for Johnny, you kind of had to agree. Sort of. But who then did that leave? However, it was on this question you would have to leave things when Francine kindly pointed out that sitting in her office pondering the who, how and why would solve nothing when the culprit was most likely waiting among the many bodies gathered downstairs at this very moment waiting for your entrance. An entrance she herself would make when the last i had been dotted and the final T crossed.

Nodding at her now in total agreement as you watched her return to her work as a means of ending the conversation, you wished her a Merry Christmas, rose from the chair and felt a bit better heading off towards the party now with her uttered reassurance that you would see her there later. If only that feeling could have made the full trip with you however. Watching the numbers blink down from the corporate offices to the conference floor, your hands smoothing out the fabric and no one to talk to brought out all your own insecurities however as your mind asked itself what exactly might be expected from you if indeed the person who purchased the dress was present to witness you wearing it. Never mind what everyone else might think.

Stepping out of the elevator now onto the conference floor, the imposter syndrome was louder here than the music seeping out through the crystal clear doors after the trip down however and it seemed to be winning out over the holiday spirit evident in every decoration and partygoer dotted throughout the room ahead..

Watching the elevator close behind you while placing your hand on the door before you, you quickly took a moment to step off to the side and rest your shoulder against the nearest wall as your nerve faltered and the truth of who you were finally won out ... for you truly didn't belong here. Oh sure, as a personal assistant you had proven yourself more than capable of answering phones, arranging meetings and replying to the countless emails that filled Johnny Storm's inbox on a daily basis. But everything else? Dealing with clients. Arranging events like the one Francine had pulled off this very night on the other side of the wall. Hell, even handling the situation with the dresses as she had done so efficiently that morning. No, these were things you were certain you would never get the hang of no matter how many years you worked here.

So what then were you doing standing here in this expensive dress about to enter a party you had no earthly business even attending? You should simply head back into the elevator, push the button for the parking level and drive yourself home for the quiet, relaxing holiday that always welcomed you like an old friend. Now if only fate would allow you that opportunity. As it was it seemed it, or more accurately he, had a different plan in mind for you as a strong body made its presence known against your back just as two suit-clad arms encircled your waist and temporarily short circuited your brain from its fight or flight response. Which ended up being a good thing given where you were and who those very same arms happened to belong to.

Resting his chin against your shoulder now while holding you still as your brain tried to figure out what best to do in this situation, the voice whispering in your ear suddenly cleared enough of the fog surrounding this development to make you realize you knew this person ... or at least you thought you did. "Sweetheart, that dress just got you added to the naughty list. Let's see if I can join you there before this night is over," he whispered before releasing you and moving forward to stand beside your startled form. "Shall we?" he then continued with a smile while reaching out his hand for you to take before escorting you into the heart of the party. Which totally blew your startled mind.

Standing beside him arm in arm now as both of you walked through the conference room doors, the music should have settled your nerves and pulled you into the festive season, but your mind was still reeling from the way things were currently playing out. For it seemed your theory had been one hundred percent correct.

Smiling politely now and shaking hands with anyone that offered you theirs, you and Johnny made a quick, yet graceful, path through the room as he expertly greeted those clients whose sole reason for being here it seemed was to grab some attention from one, if not both, of the head men responsible for yet another successful financial year. Talking, laughing and spending as much time as he deemed necessary with each client, while also somehow making sure that you were never treated as window dressing, eventually snagging two drinks off the tray of a passing waiter and steering both of you to a quiet corner, your body landing on the soft sofa was a welcome relief beneath you ... even if it did now allow time for the reality of what had just happened to finally hit you.

"Mr. Storm, what the hell was all that?" you asked in a murmured rush before he handed you a glass of champagne which you swiftly emptied in one go if for no other reason than to settle your nerves and stop the babbling you knew was just beginning. Thankfully however he at least seemed to be far better at handling the situation than you. As was evident by his response.

Taking a generous, yet controlled, sip of his own drink now while letting his eyes travel the length of your body, it seemed he was happy with his assessment that you weren't about to pass out on him and so began his quick explanation. Reminding you that the main function of these events was to make the clients feel important enough to mix socially with himself and Steve while also rewarding the staff for the excellent work they did throughout the year, his obligations had been satisfactorily fulfilled and it was now time for him to enjoy himself. Which was where he hoped you would come in, he continued and this time it was your turn to beckon forward the nearest waitress as another round of champagne was definitely needed to drown out the doubts and questions bubbling up within you once more. Not that he was having any of it apparently.

Shooing the waitress away and instead allowing you an adequate sip of the liquid courage still contained within his own sparking crystal glass, the music shifting to a slow haunting melody seemed to give him a more appropriate means of distracting you once more. One you however were not all that excited about. Taking the glass back from your lips and dabbing a napkin at the small drop of liquid that lingered behind, his hand then reaching for yours again as he now stood up and pulled you gently to your feet caught you off guard just enough to make you believe he was once more leading you towards a client he had probably missed on his initial entrance. For his actual plan was far worse than you ever could have imagined as his intentions became clearer.

Leading you now to the middle of the floor however as dancing couples parted as they might for important dignitaries, Johnny positioning your body lightly before him while he then placed his hand on the small of your back made your whole world spin with the realization of what he had in mind. He actually expected you to dance with him it seemed, which was a totally alien concept to you. After all you had successfully avoided public shamings like this your whole life ... at least until now. Tuning in on your anxiety however while whispering gently to follow his lead, he next took your hands, placed them respectfully on his own body and closed the distance between both of you before beginning a waltz he hoped would ease your tension and bring out your fun side ... but it seemed it wasn't to be.

Moving with him stiffly as your long forgotten childhood dance lessons tried to carry you along, your mind couldn't steal itself away from the countless sets of eyes following your movements and zeroing in on each and every mistake you invariably made however. Which in turn only made you more tense. A fact you were grateful that Johnny at least picked up on when the tune finally ended and he walked you back to the sofa and the little slice of privacy it provided. Not that it would be enough for you it seemed.

Sitting back down on it now and snatching up his glass to polish off the rest of his now warm and flat champagne before he could even object about what a bad idea that actually was, you were just about to call out for another glass as you had tried to earlier when Johnny instead took charge of the situation once more. Reaching out and talking your hand again, he pulled you from the sofa once more while silencing any objections you might have with a look that clearly told you to just follow his lead. Glancing around the room then to make sure your presence was not being observed, he now walked both of you out of the nearest door and led you hand in hand to the first elevator to open its doors. It seemed he was changing the venue which should have brought you some measure of relief, but that apparently would have been a Christmas miracle.

Stepping inside now and watching anxiously as the doors closed, Johnny pressed the button to take both of you back to the offices, past Francine's now empty one and straight through the heavy wooden doors that opened directly into the C.E.O.s private section. But your journey didn't stop there it seemed. Wondering to yourself now if Francine was finally downstairs enjoying the fruits of her labor instead of focusing on the gutted state of her once inhabited office, your mind became further distracted now however as Johnny inserted a key in the panel before you, waited for the doors of these new elevators to open and ushering you inside now placed his thumb over the P1 button and pressed it.

Standing beside you then while glancing sideways at you to make sure your anxiety had not rendered you helpless, experience reminded you that this was a trip you had never taken before and as the doors eventually opened on a floor you had never seen in your life, your suspicion was proven true and any anxiety you had felt downstairs had now skyrocketed upwards to world ending levels. For this was most definitely a private floor and one you were fairly certain you wanted nothing to do with whatsoever. But was he the type of man to give you a choice?

Turning to face you now as your eyes focused solely on the door opposite, Johnny broke the silence and your staring when he began to speak. "Well here we are, my private apartment. I thought, given how ... uncomfortable you seemed with all the attention downstairs that maybe you'd feel more relaxed here," he explained before continuing, "if you want to leave however, I can totally arrange that," he added, placing his hand back on the elevator button for closing the doors now, "but I'm hoping you'll stay," he finished and you had to admit the look he gave you now seriously made you wonder.

Reminiscent of a kid wishing and waiting for something he'd always wanted, could you really deny him then? Looking frantically now between the apartment door, your dress and your boss, whom it seemed owned both, your thoughts drifted back once more to your earlier question of what payment would be expected for the garment you now wore. Well, it seemed that question may finally have been given an answer.

But where then did that leave you? Were you really going to risk your job, one you actually loved, to be another notch on Johnny Storm's bedpost? Oh sure, you may have only worked for him these past five years and you would definitely be the first to admit you didn't know every finer detail about his life, likes or dislikes. But your ears still worked. You had, like everyone else you imagined, heard the rumors running rampant throughout the office gossip pools about the scores of broken hearts Johnny Storm and Steve Rogers had left scattered all over the New York area. But was it actually true and if so, did you really want your name added to that list as you searched through the unemployment ads after this whole thing inevitably came crashing down?

Calling your name now to bring you out of your thoughts and get your attention back on him, a reassuring glance at his fingers still hovering where he had left them and it seemed however that your mind was made up.

Allowing you to enter the apartment first as the door slid into the wall to facilitate your passage, the sight that greeted you here however was not quite what you had pictured. Not that you had ever pictured what Johnny Storm's corporate apartment actually looked like. In fact, before tonight, you never even imagined using the words corporate apartment for either of these guys. The men came to work, took meetings and gave out directives. But then, whenever work finally cut them loose and afforded them a modicum of rest, you assumed they returned home or to hotel suites and did whatever it was big, successful C.E.O.s did until the corporate world called out to them all over again the next morning.

At least that's what you always thought. They certainly didn't live in a place like this. For looking around this open plan space now told you that this was no booty call, bachelor pad. Not that you knew what those even looked like, mind you. But this place certainly had a touch of love about it.

For starters, the white and blue Christmas decorations tastefully placed throughout the kitchen and living area showed signs of use upon closer inspection and when Johnny appeared with two mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows, inside Santa and a snowman no less, you knew these mugs at least were not picked up at some fancy corporate office decorating store. These mugs had been picked out with a love of the season in mind, used for the time period it covered and carefully stored away afterwards to be pulled out again twelve months later. They were a personal item. One of many you now noticed prominently placed around the apartment as you took the snowman mug from Johnny and let your eyes wander while the delicious liquid calmed you in a way the champagne downstairs couldn't seem to do.

Or maybe it was the apartment and its homey feeling that was phishing away your anxiety. For your eyes could confirm the place was definitely lived in.

Moving away from the kitchen area now and the few dirty food items waiting in the sink, a sweater thrown on the arm of the sofa, logs piled up by the side of the fireplace that had just previously been used if the ashes in the grate were any indication, a tie hanging on the end of the stairs banister leading up to what you assumed was the sleeping area, this place, wrapped in all the trimmings of the holiday season definitely felt more like your scene than the party you had left a few floors below you.

And perhaps that's what Johnny had picked up on as he now joined you by the Christmas tree that seemed to hold so many items near and dear to his heart. "So tell me, is this more your comfort zone?" he inquired gently as his unoccupied hand came up to rest against your waist once more and you found yourself slipping back against his larger frame as you had downstairs when he first appeared behind you.

"Yes, it's beautiful," you confirmed, "but why bring me here?" you asked, even though you knew he had told you why when the elevator doors had opened on this floor. But maybe you needed to hear him say where his mind was going. At least that had been the plan until he actually complied with your request and started talking. Then the bubble burst. Taking your hand yet again and walking you over to the sofa which now seemed to be a prerequisite in your dealings with him, no amount of hot chocolate, champagne or any other alcoholic beverage on the planet it seemed would be enough to shore up your courage for the answer you received however. For it seemed he wanted you.

Not as a one night stand. Not as some trophy wife he paraded around at corporate functions. Not even as a broodmare to perpetuate his legacy into future generations. No, the reality it seemed was far, far worse. He wanted, as he explained, to love you, marry you and show you the world. He wanted you to remain on as his assistant if you so wished, but he also dreamed of falling asleep beside you every night, waking up in your arms each morning and sitting beside you old and gray on a balcony or porch somewhere as the twilight of your lives settled in and all the years of love and laughter both of you had shared together had proved to him that you indeed were the one. The only soul his own called out to.

Stunned into silence now by this naked and soul displaying confession, your eyes searched his frantically for some sign of lies or deception to trick you into giving him something you were not prepared to bargain away through fancy words and expensive deeds, but what you saw shocked you worse than the cold tendrils of death's touch. He was telling you the truth. For his love was as evident here in this moment as his sincerity had been back in the elevator when he promised to let you leave if you so wished. So what the hell were you supposed to do now?

A one night stand and the possible fallout afterwards might actually have been more preferable now to the path that lay before you here. A roll in the sheets and the stigma that followed, that you could rebound and rebuild from. Move to a different company, a different state. Hell, there was nothing to stop you from simply getting on a plane and starting over in a different country if that's what was left for you. But this? What Johnny had just described? That was a life. A life built on love, memories and two hearts becoming one. One did not just rebuild and recover from the loss of something like that and you honestly didn't think you were brave enough to find out if you could. But what option then did that leave you? Were you brave enough either to walk away from even the possibility of such a thing?

Sensing now that perhaps your mind was somehow winning out over your heart and therefore talking you out of something he desperately longed for, Johnny took your hand in his once more and waited now for your attention to slip fully back to him before he spoke again. "Please, I've told you what I'm thinking and honestly my feelings for you form the basis of all that. I love your smile, your laugh. I love how kind and compassionate you are to everyone you work with, without being a doormat. Hell, I even love how you handle the clients, even the smarmy ones, while still retaining your dignity and decorum," he stated and though you wanted to remind him that Francine for example also possessed those same qualities, something told you he wasn't finished, so you held your tongue and allowed him to continue.

"But most of all, I love how you have never let the gossip of the office dictate your opinion of me, as I see so many others have," he finished and in that moment you caught a glimpse of what you thought was genuine hurt flit across his features and it actually saddened you. For you alone had seen a different side of him, you had merely been too busy work wise to give it any sort of romantic value.

You had been there after all for the toy drives he had organized and funded from his own personal finances with the proviso that no public trace ever lead back to him. You had helped sort out paid leave for staff members above and beyond that which was covered in their employment contracts on his authorization whenever he deemed it wholly necessary. Hell, you had even been part of a meeting with Francine and Steve Rogers three months back when the two C.E.O.s had pooled their resources and called in a handful of favors to ensure that one of their longtime employees would not lose their home due to a health crisis that threatened to wipe them out financially as well as medically.

All this again with the stipulation that no one ever found out. A good deed was its own reward seemed to be his motto and now it appeared it was more than that. It was a way of life for him. A kindness embedded deep in every fiber of his being and one, if you were truly honest with yourself, endeared him to you on a human level. So why then couldn't you tell him this? Was it really a fear of things falling apart? Or worse yet, was it the fear that the more time he spent with you outside of work, the more he would realize you were never truly worthy of his love to begin with? You didn't get to figure this answer out however when Johnny broke your thought pattern once more, as seemed to be his super power, and asked you now to simply tell him what your heart felt. And that it seemed did the trick and broke the dam wide open on all that you had ignored these past five years.

For you did indeed love him also. You loved his looks, you loved his business skills and sense of humor, but as he had just described of you, you loved the heart he tried so hard to hide away from the world and as these exact words tumbled from your lips, you knew now which path your future lay on when hours later as your naked bodies lay cuddling for warmth in Johnny's bed, the life he spoke of earlier called both of you now into its waiting embrace. And given all that you knew about him and what your body had just experienced beneath his sheets, walking away from him had stopped being an option when your orgasmic haze had died away and the love you indeed felt for each other was all that remained to carry you onwards. For you couldn't live without him and, where this thought had once terrified you, it now brought you a future you reached out for and grabbed hold of with a newfound certainty that everything was finally right with your world.

#soft!CEO Johnny Storm x Reader #christmas 2024

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literaryavenger · 1 year ago

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Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Summary: You're part of the Strike team and join Captain America as he tries to live his new life in the 21st century. [Reader is NOT Hydra]

Pairing: platonic!Steve Rogers x F!Reader, platonic!Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Warnings: Language. Rumlow being a dick. Mentions of death. My poor attempts at being funny. Idk, everything else in the movie?

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: Happy New Year! This the first chapter in a new series I'm starting! I'm not sure how long it's gonna be yet, but I know it's gonna be longer than Broken. These series is about an alternate universe where the reader exists and lives through the events that happen in the MCU. A lot of the details will be changed to insert the reader, a lot of the lines said by other characters will be changed to be the reader's and I've also made up a lot of things and scenes and added them, trying my best not to change the official timeline and the main events. I hope you enjoy this and all chapters to come!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“You heard the boss, newbie, text Romanoff and tell her to pick up Rogers.” Rumlow taps his knuckles twice on the table for emphasis before getting up and exiting the conference room.

You make sure he doesn't miss the way you roll your eyes at the now old nickname before writing ‘New mission, need you at the jet in one hour. Asshole wants you to pick up the old man in spandex’ on your phone and sending the message to Natasha, then you get up and make your way out of the room.

“Armory.” you say as you enter the elevator.

“Confirmed.” the elevator voice says as the doors start closing.

You suit up for the mission just assigned by Pierce and go to the jet to start doing the checkups you know the rest of the idiots on the STRIKE team won’t even think about doing.

After making sure everything’s ready and in order, you can do nothing more than wait for everybody else.

Natasha and Steve get there exactly an hour after your text.

“Right on time.” you point out.

“It wasn’t a coincidence, YLN.” Natasha smirks, making you laugh.

“Cap.” you greet him with a smile that he returns. “Y/N.”

The rest of the team meets you a few minutes after. “Ready for take off.” Rumlow says to the pilot and the jet takes off.

Once you get close to the target Rumlow starts briefing Steve and Nat. “The target is a mobile satellite launch platform: The Lemurian Star. They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them, 93 minutes ago.”

“Any demands?” Steve asks.

“A billion and a half.” Rumlow answers.

“Why so steep?” Steve questions frowning.

“Because it’s Shield’s.” you answer promptly, ignoring the scowl on Rumlow’s face that disappears almost immediately.

“So it’s not off-course,” Steve says, understanding flashing in his eyes as he glares at Natasha “it’s trespassing.”

“I’m sure they have a good reason.” Natasha offers.

“You know, I’m getting a little tired of being Fury’s janitor.”-Steve seems really annoyed now.

“Relax, it’s not that complicated.” Natasha simply says.

“How many pirates?” Steve’s attention is back on the screen.

“Twenty-five, top mercs, led by this guy. Georges Batroc.” Rumlow pulls up the photo of Batroc on the monitor and looks at you expectantly, making you roll your eyes.

Of course you’re the only one who actually looked through the files.

“Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He’s at the top of Interpol's Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions. The guy’s got a rep for maximum casualties.” you fill everybody in, although it was obvious most of the guys aren't listening. At least the Captain is.

“Hostages?” Steve questions you, but Rumlow cuts in.

“Mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell.” he shows his picture. You’ve seen Sitwell around headquarters, he seems pretty close with the STRIKE team. Not that you hang out much with them outside of mission, or at all for that matter. “They’re in the gallery.”

“What’s Sitwell doing on a launch ship?” Steve asks more to himself, and he has a point. “Alright, I’m gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat and Y/N, you’ll kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep aft, find the hostages, get them to the life-pots, get ‘em out. Let’s move.”

Yep, he’s definitely in Captain mode.

“Ay ay, Captain.” you salute with a smirk that mirrors Natasha’s while Steve gives you a fake annoyed look.

“STRIKE, you heard the Cap. Gear up.” Rumlow says but you’ve already started getting ready and stopped listening to him.

“Secure channel seven.” Steve says into his wrist communicator.

“Seven secure.” Natasha replies. “Did you do anything fun Saturday night?”

“Well, all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead, so… No, not really.” Steve answers, making both you and Natasha laugh while the pilot lets you know that the drop zone is coming up.

“You know, if you ask Kristen out, from Statistics, she’d probably say yes.” you point out, exchanging a knowing glance with Natasha.

“That’s why I don’t ask.” he fires back

“Too shy or too scared?” Natasha pushes.

“Too busy!” He yells over the wind as the door opens and then he jumps.

You and Natasha both roll your eyes and look at each other smiling, not needing to talk to understand the other.

You barely register Rumlow and Rollins commenting on Steve jumping without a parachute before grabbing one for yourself and jumping alongside Nat.

You and Natasha have known each other for a while now, all the way back since she was first brought in by Clint.

You trained with both of them, went on countless missions together (yes, including Budapest) and you would’ve been right by their side in New York if you hadn't been on an important undercover mission and had strict orders directly from Fury not to blow your cover.

After that you got assigned to the STRIKE team by Alexander Pierce, though you still have no idea why. But orders are orders so you’ve been working with the idiots ever since.

But you and Natasha are thankfully still pretty close and your down time is spent mostly with her, sometimes also visiting Clint and his family at his farm.

Nat’s still annoyed at Clint about naming his only daughter after you, middle name but still, and not her. But to be fair, you have known Clint longer, a fact that always amuses both you and Clint to bring up.

You’ve just landed when you hear Rumlow saying “you seemed pretty helpless without me” to Steve.

“What about the nurse who lives across the hall from you?” Natasha says.

“Yeah, she seems nice.” you add.

“Secure the engines, then find me a date.” Steve says in his captain voice.

“We’re multitasking.” Nat tells him before turning to you. “you take port, I’ll take starboard and we’ll meet at the rendezvous point”

“Copy.” you say and make your way to the engine room on the right side of the ship. You start taking down guys and can hear Rumlow saying they’re ready in position.

Just as you finish with the last guy you hear Steve calling your name. “What’s your status?”

“Port engine room secure.” you answer.

“Good, make your way to help Rumlow with the hostages.”

“Roger that.” you can almost hear him groan in annoyance as you smile while following his orders.

“Natasha, what’s your status?” you can hear her grunt while she fights through the comms. “Status, Natasha?”

“Hang on!” She says as she keeps fighting. “Starboard engine room secure.”

You hear Steve countdown from three and then the team moving in on the targets, you get to the rendezvous point just in time to see Rumlow rounding the corner with the hostages on his tail.

“Hostages en route to extradition.” he says in his comms as you look around for Natasha.

“Romanoff missed the rendezvous point, Cap. Hostiles are still in play.” you let Steve know while helping take care of the hostages.

“Natasha, Batroc’s on the move. Circle back to Y/N and protect the hostages.” he receives no answer and at this point you get a little worried. “Natasha!”

You want to go looking for her but you know better than to leave your post, and you’re also very aware that Natasha can take care of herself.

So you keep protecting the hostages while listening intently to the comms where you can hear Steve fight, then you hear a voice you assume it’s Batroc’s talking French and are even more surprised to hear Steve answer back in French. Impressive.

You can hear him fighting again and then you finally hear Natasha’s voice but don’t pay too much attention to the conversation, bringing your entire focus on the hostages now that you know she’s okay.

You’re helping people into the life-pods when you hear an explosion go off somewhere on the boat. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you hear Natasha’s voice again and let it go, feeling even more relieved after hearing Steve too.

The ride back is very uncomfortable as you help Natasha with the minor injuries from the explosion, Steve refusing help and insisting that he’s fine, and in the mood he’s in you’re certainly not about to argue.

As soon as the jet lands he stomps away angrily and you share a concerned look with Natasha, worried about what he’s gonna do next.

You help Nat to the medbay and leave her there when she assures you she’s okay and to not make a fuss over her.

So you make your way to the usual conference room for debriefing but when you get there Rumlow very smugly assures you that you’re not needed at this meeting.

You’re used to being left out of meetings with the STRIKE team and Pierce by now, since you’ve been forced to join you’ve been left out of more meetings that you’ve attended, but it still bothers you sometimes.

Still, at least you don’t have to spend too much time with those neanderthals. Not your circus, not your monkeys.

So you just make your way to the Armory to put away your gear and then the locker room to change and go home for what you think is gonna be the rest of the day.

A few hours later you find yourself in the hospital where the STRIKE team has been called in the middle of the night because, guess what? Someone tried to kill Director Fury. Or, as it turns out, succeeded.

You’re behind Steve, Natasha and Hill alongside Rumlow and Sitwell, watching Fury flatlining and the doctors calling it.

You want to go with Nat to see Fury, be there for her knowing she cared about him as much as you do, but obviously Rumlow has to be a dick and order you to stay put. And, whether you like it or not, he’s your boss.

He rudely interrupts Nat and Steve’s conversation telling him they need him back at headquarters and you can already tell something’s suddenly off.

As much as Rumlow can be an asshole, he’s never been openly rude towards Steve.

You can hear Sitwell in your earpiece telling the team to bring Rogers in for questioning as he and Rumlow get closer.

“STRIKE, move it out.” he orders but you don't start moving until Steve’s by your side, giving him what you hope is a reassuring smile.

When you get to the Triskelion Steve is taken to Pierce’s office and you get ordered to go to Forensics and check into the evidence found on the roof, then go to Operations Control and wait for there for further instructions, so you do.

When you get to the control room you see Sitwell concentrated on a particular screen so you get close trying not to get noticed and see Steve fighting STRIKE and SHIELD agents in the elevator.

You barely have time to understand what’s happening before he’s throwing himself off the elevator and lands on his shield near the entrance of the building. Thankfully Sitwell’s “Are you kidding me?” covered your quiet “holy shit.”

You’re in the room when Sitwell gives the orders to track down Rogers to all the Agents and when he’s done, you discreetly follow him and the rest of the STRIKE team out the room.

For a bunch of guys who work for a top secret organization they sure suck at knowing when they’re being followed.

No one talks until they get to a deserted corridor. “Pierce is going to kill us. Rogers has the flash drive and can use it to find Zola. You fucked up big time letting him go.” Sitwell sounds pissed.

“Take it easy, four eyes.” Rumlow sounds just as angry “You’re not the one that got punched by a supersoldier.”

They keep talking about the flash drive and Steve and Pierce and Zola. That name sounds familiar but you can’t remember for the life of you where you heard it from.

Then it hits you.

Zola was a former Hydra scientist from World War II, turned ally when the war ended. Thank god the Howling Commandos were hot so you actually paid attention during that particular history class.

You're about to turn away so you won’t risk getting caught eavesdropping when you hear your name being mentioned.

“Someone should keep an eye on her.” Sitwell says, making you worried of becoming the next Shield target, but Rumlow proceeds to ease your worries.

“That’s a waste of manpower. The whole reason she’s even on our team was so we could keep a closer eye on Rogers, but she just spends all her time with Romanoff.”

So that’s why Pierce assigned you to the STRIKE team.

Yeah, you’re closer to Steve than most people but it’s not like you’re best friends, you sometimes hang out outside of work but most of your interactions are mission related.

You decide you've heard enough to kind of put together what’s going on, but there’s not much you can do to help Steve yet, not knowing where he is. So you stick to following the STRIKE team, praying that your absence in the control room goes unnoticed.

STRIKE gets a hit on Steve’s location and you follow them in your car to a mall but think better than to follow them in, waiting patiently outside.

After a few minutes you see Steve and Natasha in their not so well thought out undercover outfits and, once again, the Captain surprises you by hot-wiring a car.

You follow them, more discreetly this time, knowing Natasha and Steve would be better at realizing they’re being followed.

You get to an old army camp in Wheaton, New Jersey and are about to follow them in and make yourself known to them, but before you can get out of your car you hear the plan the STRIKE team has through your comms.

The idiots never even thought about using a different channel. Of course Rumlow would underestimate you this much.

So you decide to drive deeper into the trees surrounding the camp to make sure you’re not visible and wait, knowing Steve and Natasha will need a fast getaway.

You can do nothing more than watch as a missile hits the bunker and the helicopters start coming. You want to go and help them, make sure they're okay, but you will yourself to stay put and not give away your position.

When you can faintly see Steve’s figure, almost running with what looks like Nat in his arms, you finally turn the car on and drive coming to a stop right in front of him and startling him to a stop on his tracks.

“Get in.” you urge him, and he seems wary of you, rightly so. “Come on, Cap, they can’t know I’m here!”

He seems to decide to risk trusting you and delicately sets an unconscious Nat down in the back seat before getting in the passenger’s seat.

As soon as his door is closed you drive away as fast as you can, heading back to Washington and you can feel Steve’s eyes on you.

“How do I know I can trust you?” he finally says after a minute of silence, his eyes never leaving you. “You’re part of them, after all.”

“I can see where you’re coming from, but trust me I’m not one of them.” You glance at him and you can tell that he’s not convinced yet, so you go on. “I didn’t even know who ‘them’ were before today. Apparently the reason Pierce assigned me to the STRIKE team was in hopes to get closer to you. He overestimated how close we actually are. If Natasha was awake right now she would tell you how much I hate working with those assholes… You can trust me.”

You take a look at the rearview mirror and see Natasha, but her relaxed face does nothing to ease your worries.

Steve seems to pick up on your concerns as his features soften and, ever the hopelessly optimistic, he chooses to believe you.

“Okay,” he says, “what do we do now?”

“We have to get you somewhere safe” you check your mirrors as much as you can, making sure you’re not being followed “I don’t know any safehouses outside of Shield's radar. We need a place we can go that they know nothing about.”

“I have an idea.” he says, you glance at him and see him already looking at you, so you nod.

187 notes · View notes

guilty-pleasures21 · 9 months ago

Text

The perfect guy

Ahh! Thank you so much for following this story! I really appreciate all the love and support you guys have given me. I'm currently going to start work on the Bridgerton-themed fic, so feel free to request for anything you want to see in that one. And any other requests besides 🤗!

The project

The new guy

The lie

The new body

The hospital

The first time

The suit

The virus

The escape

Warnings: explicit descriptions of sex (male x female).

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She wandered through the halls of the base, pushing the cart of cleaning supplies in front of her. She'd managed to convince one of the janitors to let her use his access card - a kindly old gentleman she'd always been friendly with. His expression had softened as she'd begged and pleaded with him until finally, he'd asked her what she'd use it for. She'd told him that he'd be safer if he didn't know - if he let her tie him up and pretend she'd forced his hand - and he'd agreed, his own heart aching at the pain in her expression. And that was how she'd ended up here: breaking into a top secret government facility to bust out her one true love. “Turning down the hallway to the medical bay now.”

“Let me know when you've lost access,” Miguel replied over her earphones.

“Roger that.” She continued down the winding corridors until finally, she reached a door her card couldn’t access. She pushed the cart aside and took a moment to calm herself. Twelve minutes, she only had twelve minutes. Twelve minutes next to a lifetime. “¿Querido? Estoy listo. (I'm ready.)”

“Roger that.” A tense moment of silence passed, the only sound the beating of her heart in her chest. Then the card reader flashed green and the door slid open before her. “You have twelve minutes, querida. Starting the countdown now.”

She dashed through the series of unlocked doors until finally, she reached the isolation room. She rushed in as quickly as she could and ripped aside the blanket covering Miguel's body. She flicked on the life support monitors, then waited for her phone to connect to his brain. “¿Querido?”

A pause. Then, “I'm in. Uploading consciousness now. Ten minutes until discovery.”

Ten minutes: that meant they'd only have three minutes to escape before anyone caught them. X watched Miguel's chest, anxiously waiting for it to start rising and falling with his breaths. He was still in his Spiderman suit, the nanobots caressing his cold skin gently. Maybe he'd be able to use his powers to help them escape.

“Five minutes until upload is complete,” Miguel informed her, his chest beginning to move. X grabbed his hand quickly, her own heart threatening to burst out of her chest in anxiety. They had to make it out of this together, they had to: they didn’t have any other choice.

Margo searched for the breach in the system, her eyes glued to the monitor before her. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she decoded the information on the screen, trying to undo the complex encryption stopping her. Then finally, she shot out of her seat.

“I got-” She paused as a message flickered on her screen, just one word: please. Her eyes widened with shock. Miguel? He was still … alive?! Her fellow programmers turned to face her, waiting for her to continue.

“What?!” one of them pressed when she remained silent. “Did you get it?!”

“Huh?” Margo looked up at all the other people hunched over their computers, their determined faces lit up by the glowing light of their monitors. None of them wore the easy smile that X always shared with anyone she came across nor the excited curiosity constantly displayed across Miguel's face as he indulged in all the physical sensations his new body had to offer. She hesitated, her eyes flickering back to the single word blinking in the corner of her screen. “I got nothing. Have you managed to find it yet?” She sat back down, a sense of hopeful relief overcoming her when the other guy shook his head. Then she resumed her frantic typing: maybe she couldn't stop the rest of them completely, but she could at least delay them for a little longer.

They were in the last minute of the transfer - the window in which he wouldn't be able to communicate with her until he woke up. X held onto his hand as she waited in silence, rubbing his palm to warm him up a little - they'd kept his body cold so it wouldn't start decomposing, but he was starting to heat up now that his heart was beating again. She brought his fingers to her lips to press a quick kiss to them, then she glanced at her phone again. Four minutes left before someone found them. No, wait … Six? Miguel shifted in position, starting to awaken, and X tucked her phone back into her pocket. “¿Querido?”

He squeezed her hand, then blinked his eyes open slowly, getting used to the light. He turned to face her and smiled when his gaze focused on her, his full lips curling at the ends with delight as soon as he could make her out. X bent over and wrapped her arms around his neck, showering his face with quick kisses. “We have five minutes?"

Miguel swallowed, wetting his throat a little so he could speak. “Margo.”

X’s eyes teared up as she grasped his meaning - she'd bought them some extra time, even though she’d known that it would cost her. X nodded in understanding and stepped back, holding onto Miguel’s arm to support him as he stood. “Can you get us out of here?”

Miguel flexed and relaxed his muscles, getting used to his physical form again. Then he slid his arms around X’s waist and lifted her onto his hips. “Hold tight, querida. Don't let go, no matter what happens.”

X curled herself around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck and breathing in the warm, masculine scent of him.

“No matter what happens,” she echoed in agreement. “No blackouts, Miguel.”

He smiled at the familiar catchphrase. “No blackouts, X.”

Gabriella giggled as her parents held onto her hands and swung her into the air between them. “Again! Again!”

“No, wait!” X stopped her. “I want to know what happened next! What did Anna do after Nick stole her ball?”

“She kicked him!” Gabriella looked up at X, her dark eyes wide with excitement just like her mother's always were. “And then Ms Jenny came before they could start fighting! It was crazy.”

“That is crazy,” X agreed, nodding along to the story. Then she turned serious. “Don't fight with people, okay, Beebee? It's never worth it.”

Miguel shrugged at her words, recalling all the times he’d had to use force to take a villain down. “It's some-”

“It's never worth it,” X interrupted, narrowing her eyes at her husband and fixing him with a threatening glare. Miguel held his free hand up in surrender.

“Okay! Okay. Whatever you say, querida. Listen to your mami, arañita.” He bent over and made his voice low, but kept it loud enough for X to hear. “She might beat us up otherwise!” His wife rolled her eyes in exasperation. Sure she was tiny and adorable, but she’d literally created a superhero, broken into a top secret military base and then pushed an entire human being out of her body after working on it for nine months! His wife was a total badass.

Gabriella looked up at her father, carefully studying his large and towering form. Then she tugged on his hand, gesturing for him to bend over and let her whisper in his ear. “Don't worry, Papa, you can take her!” Miguel chuckled at his daughter’s response.

“You really think so?” Gabriella nodded in agreement and Miguel continued. “Let's get her on the count of three, okay? One, two, three!” The two of them pounced on X, attacking her with their fingers and tickling her mercilessly.

“Ah! Stop! Stop!” She batted their hands away and ran a few steps ahead, putting some distance between them. Then she turned around and huffed at them, her lips twisting down at the ends as her brows furrowed in irritation. Dios, she was just as beautiful as the day she’d first connected him to her cameras. She waited until they reached her, then she smacked Miguel on the arm. “So mean, querido! You're being a bad influence on your daughter. ” She took Gabi's hand in hers and they started walking again.

His daughter - their daughter. Their own little baby who had her eyes and her hair and his nose and his smile. Dios, he'd never stop being amazed by the sight of their own perfect little daughter. He grabbed hold of her and lifted her up onto his shoulders, holding her high above the world as they continued walking home. “Our daughter? Where is she? Where did she disappear to? She was right here a second ago!”

Gabriella giggled as Miguel pretended to search their surroundings for her. “Papa! I'm right here!”

“Gabi?! Bebita?! Where are you?! I can't see you!” Miguel insisted, setting his features into an expression of horror. X chased after him with her arms outstretched, her heart pounding with terror at the thought that their daughter might topple off her father’s broad shoulders. She hated when Miguel played with her like that!

“Miguel! ¡Querido! ¡Bájala! (Put her down!)” she exclaimed, trying to grab Gabriella. Miguel turned to face her, a confused expression on his face.

“¿Qué?” he asked. “¿Quién?” (What? Who?) X folded her arms across her chest and frowned. Miguel grinned at the sight and finally crouched down, allowing Gabi to slide off of him. X rushed to support her, making sure she wouldn’t hurt herself, then she straightened and looked up at Miguel with a scowl. She was so cute whenever she was mad at him, her arched brows crashing together, her nose scrunching up, her lips pursing in irritation. He bent over and pressed a quick kiss to her lips, then he took hold of Gabi's free hand again. “So who got the ball in the end?”

Gabi’s eyes lit up in excitement and she continued chattering away animatedly, clutching onto her parents’ hands as she finished telling them about her day at school.

“You remember our phone numbers, ¿sí, bebita?” X asked as they walked up to the Parker’s door. Gabi sighed at the question.

“Sí, mama,” she reassured her before rattling off her parents’ numbers for what felt like the hundredth time that day. X smiled and leaned over to give her daughter a kiss on the top of her head.

“Good girl!” she praised her. “Remember to call us if you need anything and never do anything you don't feel comfortable doing. ¿Entiendes, mi amor?”

“Entiendo, mama,” Gabriella replied in that same bored tone. Miguel chuckled.

“She sounds just like you, querida,” he teased his wife. X sighed and shot him an exasperated look. But the ends of her lips twitched when she saw the grin on his face. She stepped forward to ring the doorbell and was quickly greeted by MJ's welcoming smile when she opened the door.

“Mr and Mrs O'Hara!” A slight blush coloured her cheeks as her gaze fell on Miguel - as with everyone else in their little suburban neighbourhood - then she quickly turned her attention to Gabi. “Hi Gabriella! Are you ready for the sleepover?”

“Yes, Mrs Parker! Thank you for having me!” She swivelled around to give her parents quick hugs, buzzing with excitement for her first sleepover. “Bye mama, love you! Bye papa, love you!” Then she turned back to MJ and ran into the house when she stepped aside.

“Someone's an eager beaver!” MJ joked. X gestured to Miguel beside her.

“She gets it from her dad.” She held her hand out to Miguel so he'd pass her the box of cupcakes she'd brought along, then she handed it over to MJ. “Thanks so much for organising this Mary Jane, I baked some cupcakes if you'd like to share them with the kids. Please let us know if you need any help, all right?”

Miguel watched fondly as his wife gave their neighbour a warm smile. She was always so genuine in her interactions with people, always so sincere. He didn't know how she still managed to trust in people even after everything they'd been through, fighting so hard to get to the small and happy life that they shared now. He thanked his lucky stars again that she had fought for him: that she'd risked so much to give him the chance to kiss her awake every morning when he got up and cuddle her in his arms every night when they went to bed. MJ thanked the both of them, then went to watch over the kids, leaving Miguel to take hold of his wife's hand and walk back home with her.

He kept his grip on her hand when they entered her house, stopping her from getting too far out of his reach.

“Querida.” Miguel pulled his little wife back to him and bent over to rest his head on her shoulder. “Should we start working on baby number two now?”

X giggled at his naughty suggestion, but leaned into his warm and soothing touch anyway.

“Like you aren’t always working on baby number two,” she chastised him. He’d pounce on her as soon as their daughter fell asleep every night, ushering his wife into their bedroom and taking pleasure in her body after an entire day of having to be apart. He'd found a job as a software developer once they'd settled into their unassuming suburb and though he enjoyed his work, he always got a little anxious that someone might try to take her away from him when he wasn't there to look after her. Miguel pushed X towards the stairs as he brushed his lips along the side of her neck, guiding her in the direction of their bedroom.

“Miguel,” X began, stopping them in their tracks. She turned around and slid her hands up her husband's broad chest before wrapping her arms around his neck. “We have the whole house to ourselves, querido. Why wait until the bedroom?”

She gave him a naughty grin and Miguel groaned at the mischievous look on her face.

“P*ta madre, querida.” He curled his arms around her and nipped at her earlobe playfully, causing her to shudder against him. He straightened to look at her, then smiled when he saw her grinning up at him already. Miguel bent over to press his lips to hers and started pushing her towards the sofa this time as he slid his tongue into her mouth. X clung onto his shoulders, trying to keep herself from stumbling backwards, but Miguel held her upright, his hands wandering all over her body as he rushed to take her clothes off. He pushed her onto the sofa and X laughed as she tripped over her jeans, already bunched up around her ankles. Miguel knelt on the ground to pull them the rest of the way off, then he climbed up over her once he'd tossed them aside.

She cupped his cheek in her hand as their tongues tangled together, brushing her fingers over the faint hint of stubble creeping along his jawline. Shit, he was so. Freakin’. Perfect! X slid her fingers into his hair and tugged on his soft waves gently, delighting in the taste of him in her mouth. Miguel moved his lips to her neck and slid his hands down her curves, meaning to pull her shirt off. But she stopped him, suddenly remembering something.

“Wait!” she exclaimed. Miguel looked up at her in question, sitting back so she could push herself up to a seat. She gazed up at him with wide eyes. “I have a surprise! Wait here!”

X jumped up off the sofa and ran up to their bedroom, leaving her husband sighing at her sudden departure and sinking back into his seat. She dashed over to their cupboard and dug through her clothes to find the underwear she'd somehow managed to keep hidden from him. He was always so curious, her husband, and though it made for plenty of new experiences for their little family, it also made it incredibly difficult for her to surprise him. So, she’d take whatever opportunity she could get. She zipped over to the bathroom to get changed, then hurried back down the stairs, not wanting to keep her handsome husband waiting for too long.

Miguel tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for her. She loved surprises, his adorable little wife. It didn't matter whether she was the one planning them or the one receiving them: she just liked the joy that would fill the room whenever it was revealed.

“I’m ready, querido,” X called from somewhere behind him. Miguel twisted his head to look back at her and his jaw dropped when he saw what she was wearing.

She’d seen the silky green lingerie set in a shop window on her way back from grocery shopping the other day. It had been a while since she’d treated herself like that, what with Gabriella still being too young to go over to her friends’ houses and Miguel being too busy working at his full-time job. She herself spent her days as a biology teacher for the secondary school kids at Gabi’s school. It had taken a bit of getting used to, having to communicate with young students as opposed to the genius scientific minds she’d collaborated with in her previous jobs, but it was nice being able to mentor the kids and enjoy the quiet little life she and her husband had managed to build for themselves. X grinned as she placed her hands on her husband's shoulders and straddled his lap.

Miguel felt his heart start to quicken in his chest as he trailed his eyes over his wife's beautiful body. He hadn’t seen it before, the buttery deep-green fabric that clung to her intimate bits so very nicely. But he liked it.

“Do you like it, querido?” X asked, delighting in the hungry look on his face. Miguel lifted his gaze to hers, his brows furrowed in confusion. Then his eyes fell back to her body.

“Hmm? Yeah,” he mumbled distractedly. “What material is this?” He reached up to circle his thumbs around her nipples and X sucked in a breath at the feeling. Coño, his wife was beautiful, her head falling back in pleasure to expose the delicate length of her neck.

“Silk,” she replied once she’d regained her senses. She ran her hands along his shoulders, squeezing his muscles appreciatively. “Do you like it?”

“Mmm,” Miguel hummed in agreement, sliding his hands along the smooth curves of her waist. X grinned and tilted his face up to hers so she could start kissing him. She slid her fingers into his hair as she swirled her tongue around his, scrunching his soft waves in her hand. Miguel tightened his grip on her waist, moaning into her mouth as she began rolling her hips against his. He glided his hands up her back and wrapped her up in his arms, pulling her closer so her soft breasts pressed against his hard chest. X flinched as he reached down to squeeze her ass, her hips grinding against his and causing him to groan into the crook of her neck. “Querida …”

X dug her fingers into his shoulders and stopped her movements until he pulled back to look at her. She smiled when their eyes met, then leaned forward to run her hands up his neck and to his cheeks. She held his face in position as she kissed him again, her hands drifting down to the hem of his shirt as she smiled against his lips. She sat back to tug it off of him, then let her hands glide down his torso when he took over for her and pulled it off. She bit her lip at the feeling of his smooth skin beneath her palms, then she bent over to begin pressing soft kisses down the side of his neck. Miguel sighed as she made her way down his body, her lips and tongue tracing the outlines of his muscles teasingly. He lifted himself off his seat as she lowered herself to her knees, giving her the space to take his trousers off. X maintained his gaze as she took hold of his cock, fixing him with a naughty grin. Miguel kept his eyes trained on her as she guided him to her mouth and began showering his tip with soft kisses. He dug his fingers into the cushions as she swirled her tongue around him, his nerves lighting on fire as his wife teased and pleasured him with her mouth. She closed her lips around him and sucked on him carefully, slowly pulling him deeper into her mouth. Miguel groaned and slid his fingers into her hair to tug her back and forth, gently guiding her movements along his cock. X gripped onto his thighs and let out a low moan, knowing the vibrations would cause him to shudder in response. She pushed herself forward when he did, taking all of him into her mouth then swallowing around him when she felt his tip hit the back of her throat.

“¡P*tas!” Miguel swore, his body tightening at the pleasant sensation. He let go of her hair, then sank lower into his seat, relaxing into her embrace. X pulled her head back, letting him fall out of her mouth, and Miguel clenched his muscles to control himself as she climbed back onto his lap. He kept his hands on her waist as she circled her arms around his neck and bent over to nibble his jaw. Then she moved her mouth to his and pressed quick kisses to the corners of his lips, only causing his agitation to grow. Miguel growled and cupped her cheek in his hand, angling her head so he could kiss her properly. X giggled into his mouth and he smiled in response to her reaction - just like he always did. He kissed her for a little longer, relishing the taste of her in his mouth, then he flipped them around so she was suddenly underneath him. X looked up at him with wide eyes, startled, but he didn’t give her the chance to respond before he’d flipped her over onto her knees. Miguel curled himself around her and X relaxed into his embrace as he began kissing and nibbling on the side of her neck. He was so warm, his body so toned and defined against hers. He slid his hand down her back and into her panties, then closed his fingers around her soft flesh. X squealed, knowing he loved it when she did that, and Miguel grinned at the sound.

“Eres tan linda, mi amor (you're so lovely, my love),” he mumbled into the crook of her neck. “Tan hermosa. Mi esposita preciosa y inteligente. (So beautiful. My smart and pretty little wife.)” X shivered as the tips of his fangs pricked her skin and Miguel chuckled. He straightened to slide her panties off of her, then he slipped his hand between her legs.

She gasped at the feeling of her husband’s large fingers dragging up and down her p*ssy, then arched her back to spread herself wider for him. Miguel snickered at her eagerness and bent over to kiss her cheek before moving behind her again. He took hold of his cock and traced his tip along her folds, teasing her sensitive nerves as he lubricated himself in her c*m. He dipped his tip in and out of her entrance and X twisted her head back to scowl at him.

“Stop teasing me, Miguel!” she scolded him. Miguel laughed at the irritation on his wife’s face.

“Fine,” he relented. He notched his tip to her entrance then squeezed her ass in his hands as he eased himself into her. He rolled his hips gently as he pushed himself inside of her, keeping his movements slow so he could feel himself brushing against every inch of her warm and soft walls. F*ck, she felt good. He flipped his hands up her sides and unclipped her bra and X hastily pulled the straps off so she could toss it aside. Miguel chuckled at her enthusiasm, then he cupped her breasts in his hands, flicking and rolling her nipples with his fingers.

X flopped over onto the backrest, her brain turning numb at the feeling of his cock nestled deep inside of her. Shit, he felt good. Her p*ssy started throbbing around his dick as he continued to play with her breasts and Miguel grunted before moving his hands to her hips and thrusting himself in and out of her.

She was so cute, the helpless moans and whimpers falling from her mouth sounding like music to his ears. X pushed herself up and Miguel pulled her against him, holding her tight against his chest. She reached up and wrapped an arm around his neck, her slender finger sliding into his hair, and Miguel snuck a hand back up to her breasts. He squeezed her soft flesh as he sped up his movements, the sound of his balls slapping against her ass filling the room. Then he reached down and started rubbing her clit, the feeling of his fingers against her sensitive bundle of nerves amplifying her pleasure.

“M-M-Miguel!” X whined, her small body shuddering in his arms as she reached her climax. He stopped his movements abruptly, wanting to revel in the feeling of her clenching around his cock. Then he pulled out of her when she was done and spun her around so she was laying on her back.

She looked up at her husband with a dazed expression, her chest heaving with shallow breaths as she came down from her high. But then he was tracing her soaked folds with his tip and dipping in and out of her teasingly again. X squeezed her legs together as her p*ssy continued to flutter from the overstimulation, but her husband pried her thighs apart and held them down so he could slide his cock back into her. Miguel inhaled deeply at the delicious feeling of being snuggled tightly within his wife's warm and wet walls, then he glided his hands up her torso to start playing with her breasts again.

She turned her head to the side and closed her eyes as he flicked her nipples, the blissful expression on her face driving him closer to his own edge. He bounced her breasts teasingly, delighting in the way they jiggled between his fingers. Then he cupped them gently, his large hands swallowing her soft flesh whole. X clenched her muscles, tightening her grip on his cock, and Miguel let out a choked gasp at the sensation.

“Querida,” he groaned, the gruff tone of his voice causing a shiver to run down her spine. She pulled him into her again, squeezing his dick tight, and Miguel growled at the feeling this time. He moved his hands to her wrists and loomed over her, his copper eyes sparking as he pinned her against the sofa. “Arañita.”

X giggled at the note of warning in his voice and her back arched off the sofa in response to the feeling of his cock buried inside of her. Miguel bit his lip at the smile on her face, his stomach tightening at the sight of her curly hair tumbling around her shoulders and framing her sweet features so perfectly. Then he slid his hand under her back and started pumping himself in and out of her.

She yelped at the sudden force of his movements, the sofa creaking beneath them as he thrust his dick into her again and again. Her body stretched itself out at the feeling, preparing for another round of contractions to overtake her, and she grabbed onto a cushion to keep herself grounded.

“Mmm, querido …” his wife moaned, biting her lower lip in pleasure at the feeling of him. ¡P*tas! She was so. P*nche. Beautiful! His gorgeous f*cking wife! The woman who had given him their beautiful little daughter, the perfect combination of the both of them together. Mierda, he couldn't wait to put another baby in her - to see her waddling around the house again, all swollen with his seed. Coño, she was cute when she was pregnant.

She giggled at his mumbling about wanting to put another baby in her and how so very cute she looked when she was pregnant. She thanked her lucky stars again that she got to wake up in his arms every morning and fall asleep in them again every night. He was so sweet, her husband, always looking after his little wife and daughter, constantly making sure that no harm ever befell them. She gasped as he reached his climax, relishing the feeling of his warm c*m shooting into her womb and filling her up so very deliciously. Then she reached her orgasm too, her p*ssy clenching around his cock as she shook and shuddered beneath him.

He hovered over her when he was done, panting as he tried to catch his breath. F*ck, that had felt good. X looked up at him, her wide eyes travelling over the outlines of his muscles, highlighted by the sweat glistening on his skin. Then she lifted her gaze to his. “Should we check if it worked?

Miguel pursed his lips in confusion. “If what worked?”

X forced the corners of her lips to twist down at the ends, trying to hide her excited smile. “Should we check on baby number two?”

Miguel raised an eyebrow as he sat back, his lips curling into a smirk at her enthusiastic suggestion. “It takes a little longer than that, querida.”

X sat up and shrugged, her stomach flipping at the smug look on his face. “You never know.”

Miguel grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist as he leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek.

“Está bien, mi amor (it's okay, my love),” he reassured her, his voice thick with mischief. “We can always keep trying.” He tugged on her earlobe with his teeth, then brushed his nose down the side of her neck.

X giggled at his naughty declaration. “Migue-el!”

He pulled back to look at her, finally starting to get suspicious at the beaming smile on his wife's adorable face. “What?”

She wrapped her arms around her husband's neck, settling herself back on his lap.

“Maybe … we don’t have to keep trying anymore,” she suggested, shrugging nonchalantly, as if it were no big deal that she was growing another little baby inside of her right then. She placed a hand on her stomach and her lips twisted into a cheeky smile again. “Maybe baby number two is already here?”

His jaw dropped and his eyes widened in disbelief at her revelation. She was pregnant?! And she hadn't told him?! She was actually insane, his pretty little wife. Miguel reached a hand down to her abdomen and brushed his fingers along her skin.

“Are you …” He swallowed hard, trying to compose himself so his voice wouldn't crack when he asked her the question. “You're pregnant?”

X nodded quickly, then lowered her gaze, suddenly becoming shy at the awestruck expression on his face.

“I haven't had my period for 2 months,” she confessed softly. “So I did a pregnancy test the other day and it was positive!”

A rush of joy swept over him at her words. He was going to be a father! Again! ¡Ay, mierda! He couldn't wait! Miguel grinned and ran his fingers through her hair, elated.

“Querida …” He stroked her cheek affectionately, then brushed his fingers down the length of her body. “When … We have to go to the doctor. We have to make sure everything is okay.” She'd had a few difficulties during her pregnancy with Gabriella and though it had all turned out fine in the end, he didn't dare take any risks with his precious little wife. But ay, mierda, he was going to be a father again!

Her heart thumped in her chest at the dazed look on her husband's face as he stood up and started pulling his clothes back on. It had been a real struggle to keep such a huge secret from him for so long, but the payoff had been completely worth it!

“Miguel.” X patted the empty space beside her, beckoning him back to the sofa. He lowered himself onto his seat and she climbed up onto his lap again. “Next week? Gabi doesn't come back until tomorrow, you know …” Her lips curled into a mischievous smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Miguel grinned and dragged his hands up and down her sides.

“Next week,” he relented, the blood already beginning to rush to his centre again. “But no blackouts, querida.”

Her chest warmed at the familiar phrase - at the promise that had gotten them through all the seemingly impossible trials they'd managed to overcome so far. X leaned forward and pressed her lips to her husband's. “No blackouts, mi amor.”

The end

Tags: @jadeloverxd @migshusben

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 2 years ago

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Helping Hide The Truth (Peter Parker X Trans!Male!Rogers!Reader)

Characters: Peter Parker X Trans!Male!Rogers!Reader,

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: Mentions of Transphobia, fear of coming out, body dysphoria

Universe: Could you do maybe a trans male reader who is dating Peter but isnt out to his dad yet I was thinking Steve Rogers Or Bucky I love your writing and I love how you explore your stories ❤️

Peter checked his watch for the 5th time that morning. The morning bell was due to ring in just 15 minutes, and you were nowhere in sight, and Peter was starting to contemplate heading back to his locker, or texting to ask if you wanted him to drop off in the disabled bathroom or to ask if you were even coming in today. Luckily, as he reached for his phone, he saw your dad’s car finally pull up, you jumping out, waving to your dad before rushing up the steps to meet Peter. Peter smiled and waved at your dad- Captain America himself- as he pulled back out the parking lot, and you headed inside, walking at a fast pace.

“The bell’s gonna go off soon.” Peter commented as you both dashed around, pushing through the crowd to find one of the bathrooms or even just a janitor’s closet at this point. Normally when you were on short notice you would just change at your locker- slipping on a baggier shirt and slipping the men’s jeans over your leggings or something, but Peter had noted that today you had come in a dress- and judging by the style, it was Steve’s idea, thought that was obvious anyday. That meant you had to actually find somewhere more private to get changed today. His eyes darted around before he saw MJ at her locker, taking your hand and pulling you in her direction. “MJ!” He called as he approached, and she looked up, seeing you both approaching, what you were wearing, and she immediately knew what was up. She went into her locker, finding her gym bag, and pulled out her towel, unravelling it.

You stepped hurriedly between her and her locker, her holding one end of the towel against the locker next to her, Peter holding the other end with MJ’s locker door to create a barrier from any onlookers. MJ kept a look out for trouble and also tried to block the view even more with her body, Peter also doing the same when he wasn’t passing you garments, before you gave him the dress with a quick “Done.” and the towel dropped, and Peter shoved the dress into the bag. “Thank you so much.” You told them.

“Don’t worry about it.” MJ shrugged. “Guessing daddy dearest was adamant on the dress?” She asked and you huffed and nodded, taking the bag from Peter, and shoving it to the bottom of your backpack to go and put in your locker later.

“I’ll tell him I bumped into someone at lunch and got some crap on it.” You stated.

“Does that mean we have to get it back out to dump some ketchup on it?” Peter asked.

“No, we need it to look realistic- you put on the dress and we put ketchup on it.” MJ joked, poking Peter in the chest, making you laugh a little. Peter knew that if that was needed, he’d do it for you.

Peter had met you when you both started at the highschool a few years ago, and immediately had began bonding over being the ‘weird’ kids. Back then, when he was still getting to know you, Peter had presumed you were shy and self conscious, lacking any confidence, being a total wall flower and wanting to stay out of the spotlight- just trying to survive highschool. That was until the that summer ended and you came back with a new haircut- a much shorter haircut, wearing baggier clothes, clothes that hid any femininity. Peter immediately got an inkling that he may have been wrong about his presumptions about you, but didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Instead, he complimented your new hair, and the way you lit up at it didn’t help his spidey sense. You thanked him, explaining how you got into an argument with your dad about it before you inevitably went behind his back to get it done, but now it was done and he couldn’t do anything about it and so he didn’t say anything about it. Peter had joked about him being old fashioned, in which you laughed the loudest he’d ever heard. It was then you told him how right he was, and who your dad actually was.

It was in the middle of the next school break when you two were hanging around at his that he had told you he was Spiderman, and in return, you told him you were trans, and was keeping it a secret from your 1940’s dad. It was about 2 weeks after that, that you and Peter sucked up the courage to ask each other out at literally the same time.

Peter had took the information exceedingly well. He came up with the idea to have spare clothes at school to change into to make you more comfortable around your peers, which also helped you keep your secret from your dad- all he saw was the short hair but the ‘normal’ clothes when he dropped you off and picked you up, totally unaware that you had begun socially transitioning at school, and with surprising success. Of course, after a close run in one time in which Peter as Spiderman had to save you and him using your correct pronouns in front of some of your classmates- including Flash- people didn’t want to attempt to use that against you knowing that Spiderman seemingly knew you personally, and then when it came out who your dad was… yeah, people at school used your pronouns, if mostly out of pure fear.

Since being able to be yourself for the most part at school and when away from your dad, Peter had noticed how you had changed. You were chattier, more vibrant. Happier, and he loved it, and he was willing to do anything to keep it that way- even if it meant sneaking you clothes at the beginning the day and taking them back before your dad picked you up, or lying to the Avengers to ensure they didn’t pass any information on to Steve.

The day passed by like any normal day, at the end of lunch time you did get the dress back out temporarily, smearing some ketchup on the skirt before putting it back in the bag and your locker, and dropping a text to your dad that you’d had to change and that your dear boyfriend and leant you an old hoodie and pants, sprinkling in a comment on how sweet Peter was for going out of his way to get you cleaned up and new clothes in such short notice, even though you knew he probably wouldn’t read it for a while or even at all and would ask you what happened to your dress.

After the last bell rang and you and Peter were gathering your things from your locker, you discussed future plans. “How about this weekend if your dad has nothing planned with you, we could go to the mall? We could pick some clothes up for you but keep them at mine or in your locker?” Peter asked.

“Why, running out of hoodies? I can give some back.” You teased him with a grin.

“No, I don’t mind, I’ll just steal them back next time I come and visit you- I was just thinking, since they’re all my style, I thought it would be nice for you to have some pieces you could actually claim as yours. You could excuse it to your dad as backup clothes since he must think you’re super clumsy at school, but…” He explained.

“That sounds… nice. I’ll ask my dad if I can go out with you on the weekend.” You told him with a soft smile, closing your locker door, and sighed. “I wish I didn’t have to sneak around like this for clothes of all things. The fact that I’m sneaking in and out clothes that make me feel good about myself and not my literal boyfriend just feels… wrong.”

“I know.” Peter frowned. “Has your dad made any… comments? Good or bad?” He asked. You shook your head.

“No clue what he thinks, honestly not sure if he even knows what being trans even means.” You told him as you both started walking down the hallways towards the main exit.

“Would you like me to… look into it?” Peter offered. You stopped walking, looking at him with apprehension. “Like… we recently had the official lesson on gender identities, I can bring it up with Tony, ask if your dad and Thor has had that talk and how they feel about it. If he asks questions on why, I can maybe pull together a fake project about ‘old world views’ on that kind of thing and if the ‘not from his time’ argument actually holds up with Steve and Thor and that you didn’t want to bring it up with him in case he got defensive or something.” He excused.

“Are you sure? You know if you do this we will actually have to make that fake project, which could include interviewing my own dad about his views on his own son that he doesn’t know is his son?”

“I’ll interview him- conflict of interest. You put together a rough draft of a plan for this project in case Tony talks to your dad so you can show him the rough draft to make it seem real. Maybe we can turn it into actually educating him, introducing it to him so one day you can actually be yourself to him.” He suggested. You hesitated, but eventually nodded.

“I still don’t plan to come out till I’m 18, just in case.”

“I understand. I love you, and I love seeing you love yourself, but I know you also love your dad and how much he means to you and that you don’t want to damage that relationship. If I can somehow make sure that doesn’t happen, I want to do that… if this fake project gets too close to home, please just say, we can make up an excuse about changing the subject or the project being cancelled or changed.”

“Thank you Peter, I really appreciate it, and everything you’ve been doing to help me through this I can’t thank you enough and it’s one of the many reasons that I love you.” You told him, grabbing the collar of his jacket, pulling him close and kissing him, before you heard a honk from a car, knowing that it was your dad’s car. You sighed, pulling away from him. “If I’m able to come over on the weekend, can you ask your Aunt May if she can make that lasagna?” You asked, making your boyfriend laugh. You asked that last week, and the week prior. Aunt May was more than happy to make it.

“Sure thing.” He told you, stealing a quick peck, hearing another honk from your dad before you turned and rushed to get in your dad’s car, waving at him as your dad drove off.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby-blog @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort @freyathehuntress @rebellionofthecattle @hello-love-youre-pretty @werosemagic @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe @petersparkers3

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littlebitoffanfic · 6 years ago

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Never - part 2

Fandom: Little Nightmares Characters: Roger, the twins Relationship: Roger/reader Request: could you write an x roger the janitor from little nightmares? I don’t know but something really angsty. Its totally up to you Part 1: http://littlebitoffanfic.tumblr.com/post/182536245099/never AN: I take it back, this will be a three part story. You snuck out of the elevator, making as little noise as possible. Yes, you knew he would be working on the upper levels at this time, but he might still come back down if he hears something. Making your way through the dark hallways, you saw the door which lead to his personal quarters. But something took you by surprise. You could see the door, but there was light underneath it. You clicked your torch off, just to make sure and sure enough you could easily see the yellow light under the door. Did he still keep the lights on? He had mentioned he could hear the soft tapping/flickering from within the walls, the result of old wiring and it would sometimes irritate him. So why keep them on when its no longer needed? The answer made you sick to your stomach. He missed you. He kept them on for you. Maybe the sound reminded him of when you were with him or maybe it was just in case you came back. Whatever it was, you had to stop and turn away from the door, your eyes filled with tears. You thought of him, sitting on his own in his own dark world, nothing around him. No light, no joy, no enjoyment or love. Just darkness. bending over, you brace yourself on your knees, taking deep breaths. This wasn’t meant to be this hard. You had one thing you wanted, one thing you were going to steal from him. But he wouldn’t notice it was gone. At least, you hoped he wouldn’t. Pulling yourself together, you turned and walked to the door and stepped into the room. Just as you remembered it, his quarters always felt like home away from home. It had that warm, welcoming atmosphere that most of the other places in the Maw didn’t. you knew you could just stand here, staring at the place you use to spend every moment of your free time in. you left the living area and made your way to his bedroom. Walking quickly in to his bedroom, your eyes instantly fell on what you were here for. On the wall above his table, was a portrait of himself. With his hat and a smile on his face, that was exactly how you wanted to remember him. The lady had forayed you from even laying eyes on him, so this would be the next best thing. You used the bed to give you a leg up, quickly unhooking the frame from the wall, you paused, wondering if you should just take the photo and leave the frame. Stepping back onto the floor, you sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the frame. Sure, it would be safer to leave the frame and just take the picture, but you could bring yourself to pry open the back. What if you broke it? Scoffing at the notion, you berated yourself for the silly thought. You were stealing the picture, so it wasn’t like your intentions were pure. But you just wanted something to remember him. You didn’t want to forget what he looked like or run like a lost child at the slightest sight of him just to remind yourself. Your eyes travel from the frame to the portrait. Whatever cruel fate allowed you to finally find someone you connected with before ripping them away from you was certainly the truest evil in the world. your tears dropped off the end of your nose, splashing on the glass of the frame and protecting the photo within. You pulled the picture to your chest, hugging it against you as your rocked on the bed, silent tears running down your cheeks. but you couldn’t stay. Standing up, you were about to leave the room when something caught your eyes. On his wall, above his bed, there was a new photo. You had always wondered why he kept them, considering his lack of sight until you found out he could restore his sight, but it was painful and difficult. If he were to push the folds of skin up, he could reveal his eyes and see but it was extremely painful and uncomfortable for him to do, so he had just given up. But at night, you wondered if when he lay down, he could perhaps see a little as the skin relaxed. Maybe he would stare up at the pictures. He had photos of some of the former residents of the Maw, the twins, some Nomes and the newest addition was you. It was a portrait which you had all but forgotten about. It was taken on your first day on the Maw. You were told it was customary. The Twins had one as did the Lady and it was hung up in their living quarters. Rogers one of you was directly above his bed, front and centre of all the pictures. placing the portrait of Roger down, you reached up and took the photo off the wall. It had been dusted recently. you don’t know what possessed you to pull the pen you always kept on you out of your pocket. Nor what caused you to turn the photo over and pry the back off the frame. But you took your portrait out, keeping the photo face down. Clicking the pen, you lowered it to the blank back. “I’ll always love you, Roger. No matter what happens. All my love, [y/n].” Pulling the pen off, you stared down at the confession. Some tear stains appeared under the words and you quickly straighten up, wiping the tears off your cheeks. Something moved to the side and caught your eyes, making you jump. But you quickly saw a Nome was standing on the table, their head tilted to the side as they appeared to be reading the message. “Don’t tell him, okay? Our little secret.” You offer it a small smile before reaching into your pocket and pulling out a small bit of bread you had bought to bribe the Nomes if you saw them. It nodded and held out its tiny hands for the bread, which you gave it. As it nibbled away, you put your picture back in the frame and hung it back on the wall, making sure it was straight. The loud sound of bells filled your ears, signalling it was on the hour. You needed to leave. Waving the little Nome farewell, you quickly ran out the quarters, your new treasure in your arms. When you got to your own quarters, you quickly perched the photo on your bed stand against the light. You thought of hanging it up, but for now at least you would keep it by your bed. -------time skip ----------------- While you were cleaning the hallway of the ladys quarter, you heard a ding of the elevator bell and it came up. You were confused since the lady was up in her bedroom, so who was coming up? You watched closely as the elevator opened to reveal… no one. Blinking, you place down the duster and walk closer to the empty box until your eyes fell on a note. Looking at it, you recognised it as Dees writing. It was an invite to join him and his brother for a cup of tea the next evening after the lady goes to bed. You frown but then hear the squeak of the floorboards as she left her room. You picked up the note and stuffed in your pocket just in times as she appeared at the top of the stairs. “Why was the elevator called?” She asked, her voice dripping with suspicion. “I don’t know. I was cleaning and it suddenly came up. Must have been the Nomes playing.” You reason with a shrug, returning to your dusting. She eyed you suspiciously before returning to her room. You slipped into your own and took out the note, reading it again. --------time skip ------------------- “I don’t understand.” You signed, hiccupping as you wiped away tears. “why am I here?” The twins sat in silence, Dee obviously deep in thought while his brother didn’t know how to comfort you. When you sat down with them, you knew this wasn’t just to discuss the weather. They were worried, and the more you all talked about why the lady might have got so possessive with you, the more agitated and upset you got. “Why did you think?” Dee finally asked, leaning forward as he took a draw of his cigarette before placing it in an ashtray for his brother. “It wouldn’t have brought you here without a reason. And the lady was pretty content before.” “I-I thought-“ you trailed off, searching the mug in your hands for some kind of answer, like the reason might be spelled out in your drink but you found nothing. You were here for the Lady. That was the only reason. You were here to help her, to be her maid, her assistant and her alley. Maybe even a friend. “I am here for the lady.” You close your eyes, frustrated with yourself. You KNEW this. This wasn’t new information. But why did it feel wrong? You picked up your drink, but paused about an inch off the table, only really holding it for comfort. “She was fine before.” Dum suddenly said, making you look up at him with confusion. “Well, before you came. She had those shadows and dolls she liked. And she could do everything herself.” “So im useless?” You breathed, your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach. All you had ever wanted was to belong somewhere, to be a part of a family and to be needed. there was a bang and then a yelp as Dee hit the back of Dums head. “HEY! I didn’t say that! I was just saying that the lady was fine before. But Roger, well, he’s not been right for years now.” Dum cried out, rubbing the back of his head as he glared at his brother. The room fell quiet as both you and Dee stared at the youngest twin, your minds working rapidly. “That don’t make a damn lick of sense. Why would-“ Dee started to berate his brother, until he heard the sound of your mug dropping back to the table. “Im, im not her companion.” You finally spoke, your voice barley over a whisper as you stared between the brothers at the wall behind them. “What?” Dee leaned to the side, into your line of sight as it drew you out of your thoughts. “You have each other, she has her shadow children. Roger had bought his family with him as a companion, Granny. But she was banished and he was left with no one. The lady, she must have known I was here to be someone’s companion. She must have assumed it was her own, like we all did. But then, that day, she realised and-” You spoke rapidly before Dee jumped, realising where you were going with this train of thought. “She got jealous.” He breathed, his head nodding slightly. You bit down on your lip as you try to ease your racing heart, looking at Dee. “Im not her companion. Im his.” There was a shift within the Maw, the whole structure seemed to rumble or purr at your words. It made the three of you jump as you looked around. Never, in all the time you had been there or while the twins had been there, had they ever heard such a noise. You darted out of your seat, heading for the elevator to the Ladys quarters. “Where you going?!” Dee shouted after you, although you could tell by the fear in his voice that he already knew. “To speak to her. It’s the only way.” You call over your shoulder, your mind set. But then something grabbed your wrist. “She could kill you.” Dee had ran up behind you and held you back, his eyes wide. “She wont.” You shook your head. “You don’t know that. What if she takes the stance that if she cant have you, no one can?” Dee growled, pulling you away from the elevator. But something drew your attention up to the rafters of the ceiling. You saw some Nomes poking their heads out, balancing a can on the edge of it. “im sorry, Dee. But I have to try.” You genuinely meant your apology, knowing what the little menaces had planned. It certainly wouldn’t endear the chiefs to them, but it would allow you to get to the elevator. you nodded to the Nomes, who pushed the can off the edge of the wood, and it fell, hitting Dee on the head. It wouldn’t have been too hard, considering the can was empty, but the shock was enough to make his drop your wrist, raising both his hands to his head as his eyes closed. You took your chance, darting into the elevator and you were about to press the button when Dee called out your name. “What about Roger?!” he called out, causing you to faulter. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing he had fallen backwards and was now on the ground. But he made no attempt to run after you. The can had knocked his hat to the side and you could see the angry and hurt expression on his face. “You gonna run off and get yourself killed then what? Whos gonna tell him?” you felt the floor under you move as you stood still in the box, your fingers hovering over the button. Dee was right, she could easily kill you without laying a finger on you. But she wont. Doing so would anger the Maw, which had made its purpose for you clear. She would anger the Chiefs, the Nome’s and Roger. Even if he was angry at you, the twins would tell him everything. And maybe, when they clean out your old room, he’ll find the portrait you took of him. He’ll know. but will he understand? no. He would be resentful. Not of you, but of everyone and everything. He would resent the Lady for all her action, the twins for not stopping you, the Maw for dangling happiness in front of him then ripping it away, his life. You couldn’t bare the thought. Lowering your hand, you glance back over your shoulder at Dee. “How’s your head?” You ask, seeing him let out a breath as he realise you had changed your mind. “Bloody hurts. Damn Nome’s.” He cursed, looking up but the Nomes had gone. “Are you okay?” You called over to Dum, who was staring between you and his brother. He gave a signal nod. He was obviously in too much shock to really do anything. Stepping out of the elevator, you walked up to Dee and offered you his hand, which he took to help himself up. “Thank you.” You smile, slightly relieved he had been able to talk some sense into you. “No problem.” Dee returned your smile as he picked up his hat and returned it to his head. You looked to the doors at the back of the guest area, which lead to the kitchen and down into the lower levels. “Go on, quick before I get attacked again.” Dee pushes you towards the door before picking up the cups the three of you had forgotten about on the table. You nodded, waving to Dum before running to the doors. You quickly descended through the levels of the Maw, the gentle sway of the ship comforting you as you headed straight to Rogers quarters. Once on his level, you slowed to a walk, trying to catch your breath and get your thoughts straight, although even as you cross through the living area and heading to his bedroom. While there was little concept of night and day time on the Maw, Roger had a routine that he followed and right now, he would be sleeping. But as you drew closer, you saw the bedroom light was on and the door ajar. On the floor, you saw the light glinting off speckles of glass. Breaking into a sprint, you raced into the room only to find it empty. You looked around and saw a broken frame on the floor. Instantly, you recognised it as the one in which your photo had been. But why was it smashed? And empty? something moved from the corner of your eye and you quickly snapped your head to see 3Nomes standing on the table, obviously startled to see you there. “Who broke this?” You asked the Nomes. One pointed to the empty bed and then waved its arms. You knew exactly who they were speaking about. “[y/n]?” And all too familiar voice called your name from behind you. You turned to see Roger, standing in the doorway.

#little nightmares #roger the janitor #roger x reader #roger #roger the janitor x reader

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holylulusworld · 3 years ago

Text

The nameless girl

Summary: Your boss doesn’t even know your name. This doesn’t keep his guests from finding interest in you.

Square Filled for @marvelfluffbingo (marvelfluffbingo2021): poly fic

A little something for @saiyanprincessswanie I hope everything goes well for you and you recover soon.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Shy!Reader x Mobster!Steve Rogers

Characters: Clint Barton, T’Challa, Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: angst, language, shy reader, tension, awkwardness, a hint of fluff, polyamory

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2,7 k

A/N: Part 1/2

Marvel Fluff Bingo 2021

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Invisible, that’s what you are to most of the people at your working place. Of course, you are. How could you compare to the sexy girls dancing at Clint Barton’s infamous clubs?

While they are beautiful swans waltzing around the clubs, you are a shy duckling who tries to hide anytime you get the chance to do so.

“Mouse, clean the toilettes in the back,” one of the bouncers grumbles. “Someone put tampons into the toilette and now it’s flooded.”

“Uh—erm, I’m not the janitor,” you try to explain to the guy who never even spared you a glance before. “I got no clue how to fix a toilette.” He shrugs, before pushing a plunger in your hands.

“Clean the fucking toilette or I’ll get you fired. You’re not one of the dancers, so stop acting like you can choose your tasks,” he barks at you, jerking his head toward the toilettes. “Go, girl.”

“But—” he walks away, angrily muttering something under his breath. He’s one of the rudest guys you ever met and usually, you try to stay out of his sight. Brock Rumlow is no one to mess with and you will try to fix the toilette, no matter what…

“Done,” you wash your hands again, hoping Rumlow will never ask you to do something like that again. You look in the mirror, sighing deeply. The make-up you added tonight is ruined, just like your hairstyle.

“Hey, is the toilette fixed,” one of the girls hurries inside the restroom, “please tell me Rumlow fixed it.”

“I fixed it,” you point at the toilette, giving the girl a shy smile. “It should work now. At least I hope it does.”

“But—” she shakes her head. “He should’ve fixed it, sweetie. Never let that guy force you to do his job again, Y/N.” your eyes lit up when the girl you only know as the Scarlett Witch, her show name, says your name. “I will tell Clint Rumlow fucked up again.”

“No, it’s fine,” shuffling from one foot to the other you think about all the things Rumlow would do to you if you get him fired. “He just didn’t find the time to do it.”

“You sure Y/N? I mean, this is not your job,” you nod, giving her a cracked smile. Unlike her, you are only a tiny and unimportant wheel in Clint Barton’s machinery of clubs. No one would ever miss you. Especially when Rumlow lets you disappear.

“Do you want one of my girls to dance for you, maybe a special dance in one of my suites?” Clint asks, pointing at the girls roaming the club. “How about Natasha, she’s everyone’s favorite.”

“No,” Bucky grumbles. His mood is not the best tonight, not after the awful breakup with his fiancé a month ago. “I don’t want one of your girls to dance for me or sit on my lap again. I hate those clingy girls.”

“You must excuse my partner,” the blonde next to him smirks when Bucky throws him a dirty look. “Bucky just broke things up with the last girl you offered to dance for him. He even cut his long locks.”

“Steve, can you just now,” Bucky grunts, eyes roaming the dance floor. “Oh—that’s a new one,” the mobster dips his head to follow the girl who caught his attention with his eyes. “A nice one, a sweet little mouse.”

“Buck,” Steve whips his head toward his friend who already licks his lips, “didn’t Dot get you into enough trouble? Punk, you told me that you want to lay low and just,” Steve mutters but his eyes drift toward the girl Bucky is ogling. “Oh, hello there,” suddenly interested in the girl hiding behind the others the blonde smirks.

“She’s mine, Stevie. I saw that cute little thing first,” Bucky pats the gun he hides under his jacket. “Don’t you dare to touch a hair on her head.”

“I will touch so much more,” eyes dark blue orbs now Steve looks at Clint. “We want the one in the blue shirt.”

“Blue shirt—what?” Clint looks around the club, frowning when his eyes land on you. “I don’t even know that girl. Maybe she’s a guest.”

“She’s wearing your logo on her shirt,” Bucky insists, scooting closer to the edge of the couch at the VIP area. “I want that girl to come here and spend the night with us. She’s kinda cute and I love the way her ass looks in those shorts she’s wearing.”

“Buck, that one is mine,” the blonde groans, eyes glued to your face. “She will look good on my bed and underneath me.”

“Gross and,” T'Challa mutters, “we came here for business, not to grope random girls. What would your mother say if she could hear you talk like that about women?”

“Sorry, he’s our moral compass, Barton,” Bucky huffs, eyes still glued to you. “How about we invite her to join us like gentlemen, T'Challa.”

“Better, Mr. Barnes,” T'Challa smirks when Steve rolls his eyes. “I don’t think the girl is the kind of woman you usually go for. Look how she tries to hide behind all the other girls. She likes to stay out of sight.”

“I want her to join us now, Barton. Make it happen,” Steve cranes his neck to follow you through the crowd with his eyes. “I hate to wait.”

“Give me five,” Clint grumbles. He hates to get up and stop talking about business but to satisfy his partners, he’ll do anything.

“Mouse, come with me,” Clint Barton, your boss barks orders at you. “Now, girl.”

“I-I,” you shriek, dropping the phone in your hands. “Sir, Mr. Rumlow wants me to fix the washbasin in the restrooms on the second floor. I can’t—he will get mad again.”

“Girl,” he’s in your face, grabs your arm roughly before he jerks your body toward the men waiting at the VIP area, “my guests want you to join our little get-together. You shouldn’t worry about Rumlow but me.”

“Mr. Barton, Sir,” you cry when he tightens the hold on your arm. “I don’t even know what to do at the VIP area. I’m not good at serving drinks.”

“Clint, that’s not the way to invite a lady,” one of the guests suddenly stands behind Clint to place his hands onto your boss’s shoulder. “Hello, my name is T’Challa and my friends over there would like to invite you to join us,” the man holds out his hand to shake yours gently.

“I have to work, Sir,” voice barely above a whisper you glance up at the friendly man. “I don’t know if I should drink at work, though. I’m not much of a drinker.”

“Have a drink with my guests, mouse,” Clint insists, still not letting go of your arm. “Now or do you want to get fired?”

“Do we have a problem here, Clint? I don’t think the girl likes that you leave bruises all over her arm, same goes for me,” this time Steve towers over Clint. “Let the sweet girl go. I think she wants to join us. Right, doll?”

“I—” swallowing thickly you look up at the tall blonde. “Okay, I guess. But I have to work later. I can’t drink too much, Sir and I’m a lightweight.”

“Steve, call me Steve, sweet doll,” the tall man swats your boss’s hands away. He takes your hand to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. “Such a sweet mouse among all those fiery cats.”

“Steve, I saw her first,” a tall brunette step out of the shadows. He eyes you shamelessly, let his eyes roam your body while you shyly glance up at him. You saw his face before, in the magazines you like to read. “Hi, doll. I’m Bucky Barnes.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Barnes,” you squeak when he takes your hand to kiss it softly. His lips slowly move over your hand, and you bet he smirks against your skin when a tiny whimper leaves your lips.

“You’ve got what you wanted, Barnes. Back to business,” Clint mutters while jerking his head toward the VIP area. “Hurry, I don’t have all night. Why did you have to choose the little mouse?”

”You don’t even know her name, huh?” T’Challa shakes his head at Clint’s antics. “Calm down. You know how Bucky can get when he set eyes on a girl.”

“I got what I want,” you find yourself in Bucky Barnes's arms. One arm slung around your waistline he holds you against his warm body. “Such a cute little mouse for me to keep safe.” He murmurs against your hair.

“Us—” Steve clears his throat while glaring at his friend. “You can’t just tell everyone she’s yours, Buck. I saw her too.”

“I saw her first,” the brunette growls, ignoring you squirm in his hold. “Shhhh… sweet doll. I’m going to make you my queen.”

“I—what?” you don’t know how to react to such an offer. “You see, I’m not a queen, not even a maid. Why don’t you let me do my job and look at the pretty dames over there? The dancers are so much more beautiful and graceful.”

“OH, doll,” Steve cups your cheek, giving you a soft smile when you look up at him with wide fearful eyes. “You don’t have to be afraid of us. Bucky and I will take good care of you,” he whispers before he presses a soft kiss to your temple, making you sigh.

“Punk,” Bucky grits out. “Don’t get all cozy yet. She will be mine, right doll?” he looks down at you, eyes glued to your face, brows furrowed. “You must tell Steve you want to go out with me.”

“I—I,” overwhelmed by their presence and intense gazes you feel your knees buckle. “I can’t. I mean, you don’t know me and I—”

“Don’t scare her, Buck,” Steve shoves his friend aside only to sling one arm around your shoulders to guide you toward the VIP area. “You coming Buck?”

“Come here, sit next to me,” Bucky holds out his hand, offering you the seat next to him. “Don’t be shy around me. I won’t hurt you, sweet girl.”

“She can sit next to me too,” Steve looks at the seat next to him, frowning when you stand in front of the couch, eyes darting from left to right.

“Uh—can’t I,” you whisper, glancing at the seat in the middle, “sit in the middle? This way I sit next to the both of you.”

“Perfect,” patting the seat Bucky smirks. “Pretty, cute, smart and, she stopped us from fighting before we even started.”

Whilst you slowly sit in the middle of the couch, avoiding eye contact with your boss the men sitting on each side of the couch scoot closer to you, thighs brushings yours.

“Now it’s perfect,” all too eager Steve wraps his arm around your waistline to bring you a few inches closer to his body. “Barton, you can talk about business now.”

“Wait, we didn’t even get her name.” Bucky moves his hand over your thigh, squeezing it when you whip your head toward the cocky mobster. He smirks when you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek.

“Right,” Steve clears his throat. “Barton, what’s our girl’s name?”

“She—uh, you know,” Clint combs through his brain but he just can’t remember your name. He met you once when you applied for the job. He dismissed you as fast as you entered his office. Maria was the one hiring you.

“He doesn’t know my name, no one does,“ you squeak when Steve tries to get a feel of your ass. “Hey, no touching! That’s second base.”

“Uh-huh, second base, Stevie,” the brunette leans closer to move his hand over your back. “Doll, how about we move to third base. Let’s hit the road and drive to my house.”

“Our house,” the blonde mobster corrects. “You must know, we live together and share almost everything,” now Steve’s eyes drift toward your chest and you cross your arms to protect your cleavage from his prying eyes.

“Don’t be shy, pretty mouse,” Bucky whispers in your ear. “Steve and I will see every inch of your body when we reach third base.”

“Suddenly it’s the both of you?” Clint frowns deeply. “I’m not against having a threesome, but I prefer two girls in my bed, maybe three.”

“Well, you are a taker, Barton,” the blonde mobster smirks, tickling your thigh with his fingers, “but Bucky and I are givers. We like to take care of a sweet girl like—”

“Y/N,” you finally speak up shoving Steve’s hand away, “and I don’t like to get touched by strangers. I’m shy, not someone you can just touch.”

“She has teeth and claws too,” you don’t know that Bucky wants you even more after your little outburst. “We are sorry, doll. Of course, we will take you out first. Steve and I are gentlemen.”

“Back to business, gentlemen,” Clint angrily glares at you. “Can we stop talking about my employee and get to the point where we talk about the important things?”

“Talk, we will listen,” Steve leans back onto the couch, long legs sprawled out. “Y/N, sweet mouse, how about you tell me what you want for dinner after Clint is done?”

“Dinner?” you whine when Bucky takes your hand to interlace his fingers with yours. “You don’t even know me. Why would you want to go out with me?”

“I got a hunch you are the perfect girl for me,” the mobster smirks when you move closer to him to get away from Steve’s greedy hands. “How about Italian or do you prefer Chinese food? I know a great Moroccan restaurant too.”

“I have to work,” the look on Clint’s face tells you after tonight you don’t have a job any longer. He doesn’t seem to be pleased his business partners are more interested in getting to know you than doing business with him.

While you cower next to the mobsters, both men talk to your boss, or now former boss.

“Do you think this is the right theme to discuss in front of her?” Clint grits out. He waves at a waitress, grumbling under his breath. “I asked you a question.”

“You are right,” Bucky suddenly jumps up and you believe they changed their mind, “we should take Y/N out tonight, not make business. T’Challa, we trust you with the deal. You know our conditions and to be honest, you are a better negotiator than I or Steve ever could be.”

“What?” You can’t just leave,” at the same time as Steve holds out his hand for you, Clint jumps up to throw a tantrum. “If you leave now, she will lose her job.”

“Fine, we will find a new job for our girl or even better, she doesn’t need to work ever again,” Bucky takes your hand to lead you away from his angry business partner. “What do you want to eat, doll?”

“I’ll go for Italian food tonight,” Steve joins you and Bucky. “There is a nice little restaurant in Brooklyn.”

“I like Italian food too,” you know it’s useless to fight the mobsters. If only you survive dinner with them you can go home and forget you caught the eyes of two mobsters.

“Good isn’t it?” Bucky smirks when you take another bite of the pasta he ordered for you. “So, when can we go on our next date?”

“What?” choking on the food you look at Steve. “Is he serious? I thought this was all just a bet or something.”

“No bet, Y/N. We saw you at the club and knew you are perfect for us,” Steve smiles when you look at his friend for help. “Bucky is the same, doll. Now, tell us where we are going for our next date.”

“Maybe,” voice barely above a whisper you look around the table at the men wanting to make you their queen, “the other restaurant Bucky mentioned?”

“Alright,” the brunette smiles widely. “We are going to take you out tomorrow night again and every other night from now on...”

>> Their girl

Tags in reblog.

#The nameless girl #steve rogers #bucky barnes #MOBSTER!AU #marvelfluffbingo2021 #marvelfluffbingo #mobster au #mobster!steve x reader #mobster!Bucky x Reader #mobster!bucky barnes #mobster!steve rogers #cheesy fluff #shy reader

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writtenfangirl · 3 years ago

Text

A Reason Why

This has to be the longest fic I've ever written! I'm a little nervous since this is different from what I usually write so I hope I did the request justice!

8,073 words

Request by @sunnydreams03 Hey I really like your work and I don’t know where to send a request lol. I wanted to see if you can write a ceo!steve rogers x reader where the reader is Steve’s assistant and they are having an affair (Steve is married). Steve keeps telling reader that he is going to divorce his wife and reader over hears him telling his wife that they are going to take a vacation. Reader not knowing it his last vacation before the divorce. Reader tells Steve she has had enough of his lies and that he has to chose between his wife or her and he still goes to the trip. When Steve comes back reader has quit her job and she finds out she is prego. Make it have a happy ending.

CEO!Steve Rogers

In all honesty, Y/N hadn’t expected her life to go this way. She never imagined herself to be the other woman. After all, her father had his own string of affairs that nearly tore her family apart and she had sworn to herself that she would never let herself be cheated on nor will she ever cheat.

In Y/N’s opinion, it was a despicable thing to cheat on the person you love. It was always a volitional choice. A person doesn’t just accidentally sleep with a coworker nor do they just accidentally fall in love with someone else. It was a choice that people considered and weighed. There were no accidents when it came to cheating, only mistakes.

Except, perhaps when the mistress involved didn’t know that the man she loved was married.

Then that was a different situation entirely.

Women, after all, tended to lift up other women. When they find out that the man they called boyfriend was being called husband by somebody else, they were usually quick to break things off and inform the wife of her husband’s infidelity. Usually being the operative term.

Because sometimes, women can be real assholes. Bold, brash assholes who consider only themselves.

Y/N always hated those types of women. As a feminist, she hated everything they represented. A woman putting another woman down? A woman holding up a man who’s ego is probably too big for his head? She couldn’t stand them.

Then she became one of them and somehow she understood.

To be honest, she hadn’t realized when it started. All she knew was that it didn’t start at the beginning because at the beginning, Steve was cold.

He was never disrespectful or tough, of course not. He was always polite to her, the perfect gentleman. He was just cold and detached, almost unfeeling.

Y/N understood why of course. Her father was a CEO of a Fortune 500 company, a direct rival of Steve’s and Y/N had seen firsthand what working in the cutthroat environment of the corporate world could do.

It was probably what drew her to him.

Steve was a powerful guy, that much was true. He knew the extent of his own abilities and it reached far and wide. Yet, Steve was always kind. There wasn’t single employee in the company—whether a manager, a security guard or even a janitor—who didn’t speak highly of him. He was tough, yes, but he took care of the people under him. He always looked out for the little guy. Steve worked hard to make sure that everyone got their Christmas bonuses and he worked even harder so that everyone could have two whole weeks off.

Y/N remembered that once, they had spent seven nights together poring over the books and making sure everything was in order because Carl from accounting had an appendectomy. And then Steve made sure that Y/N got home safe every night by having his personal chauffeur drive her home.

There were other times too.

Once, Steve had an important meeting with a potential supplier and had asked Y/N to come help him and make sure that the contents of the contract were in order since the supplier was German and Y/N was multilingual. When the supplier placed his hand on Y/N’s thigh cavalierly and Y/N was clearly uncomfortable, Steve stood up and put a stop to the meeting.

“Tell him we’ll find someone else,” Steve ordered while he buttoned up his suit jacket.

“What?” Y/N asked, bewildered as she followed her boss. She couldn’t stop the relief that sagged her shoulders as the man’s hands fell off her lap and Y/N knew by Steve’s narrowed eyes that he saw her actions, no matter how minuscule. “You want to drop him?”

“I do.”

“Why? He’s an important supplier, Steve. He’ll help bring expenses down by at least 40% if we bring him in.”

Steve turned to the supplier and said in perfect German, “I will never work with a despicable man who can’t show a woman respect. We’ll find someone else. I wish you a good day, Mr. Zola.”

And he’d walked out, with Y/N following suit.

Yes, Y/N was sure now. That is what first drew her in.

She thought it was just a harmless crush. After all, who wouldn’t have a crush on Mr. Steven Grant Rogers? He was every girl’s dream man.

With his tall stature, jacked built hidden behind his expensive suits, suave blonde hair, clear blue eyes and a jawline sharp enough to cut through steel, he would have made any girl lucky.

Not to mention the fact that he was nice, insanely charismatic and had one of the most beautiful smiles in the world.

He was just so… cold.

He was to Y/N at least.

Because Wanda, the HR manager and Y/N’s longtime friend, told Y/N that Steve was never cold, at least not to her.

“He’s really nice. I don’t understand why you think he’s cold,” Wanda remarked as she stirred the warm coffee in her hands.

“He never smiles at me, he always keeps his distance and even when he orders me around, it’s always so monotonous. Did I do something to offend him? Does he have plans to fire me?” Y/N bit at her lip. She’d been working for Steve for a little over a year and he’d never once told her that she was doing a good job and it was hard to guess at it too since Steve rarely smiled around her.

“I don’t think so.” Wanda sipped at her drink before she continued. “When I went over there with Bruce last week to talk about our new salary budget, he recommended you first for a raise.”

Y/N paused. “He wants to give me a raise?”

“Mm-hmm. He didn’t tell you?”

“No,” Y/N frowned. “Was I suppose to find out when I made payroll next week?”

“Maybe he wanted it to be a surprise.” Wanda shrugged her shoulders. “I wouldn’t put it past Steve to do something like that. Two years ago, he bought Scott a car for his bonus since he mentioned that he was still using the old van he had since his college days to come to work.”

“So he doesn’t want to fire me.”

“No,” Wanda laughed. “In fact, he gave you rave reviews for the employee evaluation. He said that you always gave it your 110%. Aside from Steve, you’re probably the only one of us who could run this company since you know the operations so well.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Y/N laughed breathily, a dusting of pink on her cheek from Wanda’s brazen compliments.

“By the way, are you going to Nat’s party tonight? It’s Clint’s birthday and we’re throwing him a surprise. Vis agreed to come. Maybe you can meet him this time.”

Vis was Wanda’s husband and Y/N had never met him once, which was odd all things considered. He often attended company functions to support his wife and yet when Y/N tries to introduce herself, something would come up or Vis would be anywhere else but near Wanda or Y/N. It became a running joke between her and Wanda that Vis turned into a ghost whenever she was around and simply walked through walls to avoid her.

“I was suppose to but then Steve asked me to stay late to go over the accounts for the Stark merger. We’ll make a night of it.” Y/N sighed. Late nights with Steve were becoming more and more frequent nowadays.

The day soon passed by and Y/N found herself in Steve’s office, looking over the contract for the Stark merger. Plates full of sushi were scattered around the table, the dinner that Steve had requested for the night.

Steve sat opposite from her, going through his own stack of papers. His suit jacket laid abandoned at the arm of the sleek, leather couch; the sleeves of his pristine, white dress shirt were pushed up his arms.

Y/N tried not stare but it was hard not to when he looked so good.

She felt suddenly under dressed next to him in her blue blouse and black pencil skirt. Her blazer laid abandoned next to her and she had her hair swept up and away from her face.

“What?” Steve asked, looking up from his papers as Y/N shoveled a piece of sushi in her mouth. “You’ve been staring at me for the past few minutes.”

Y/N felt a blush creep on her cheek as she drank a mouthful of water. “I wasn’t staring.”

Steve gave her a dubious look and Y/N could feel her neck heat up under his attention.

“Wanda told me that you recommended me for a raise,” Y/N said, carefully considering her words. Y/N always thought she was good at reading people but Steve was different. He always acted like there was a glass wall between them. He was kind and respectful but he wasn’t friendly. Y/N couldn’t ever build a rapport with Steve, no matter how hard she tried.

“I did. You do a good job, you’re a hard worker. Truth be told, you’re overqualified for a job as a corporate secretary. Giving you a raise is one of the ways I can keep you here, working for me.” Steve said it in a matter-of-fact tone, like he was simply commenting on the weather.

“So you do like me,” Y/N noted with a smug look.

“Did I ever gave you the impression that I didn’t?” Steve said, eyebrows raised.

Something told Y/N that Steve was starting to warm up to her so the next words out of her mouth wasn’t too careful. “Well, yeah. You never tell me that I do a good job and you never smile. I always felt like I was walking on eggshells around you.”

“You didn’t seem like the type of person who likes being praised for a job well done.”

“It’s still nice to hear it every once in a while.”

“Will that stop you from accepting the job offer from DC?”

This time, Y/N paused and frowned. “How did you know about that?”

The job offer she had from DC was something she hadn’t told anyone, not even Wanda. It was a higher paying job, better benefits and it was for a fashion magazine Y/N always dreamed of working in as a child.

She’d turned them down. Twice. It was a difficult decision but she was happy working for Steve. She couldn’t imagine leaving, especially not now that she’s placed down roots in New York.

Still, despite the rejection, it hadn’t stopped them from emailing her about it. An unopened email was still sitting in her inbox, awaiting her reply.

“They contacted Wanda. Asked how much we were paying you so they could double it.” Steve said, leaning against the black leather couch, the papers before them all but forgotten. “She took another shot at your resume and found that we were paying you too low. I just asked her to right your salary and then some.”

“Wow,” Y/N said, stunned. “Thank you.”

“It’s what should have been done in the first place.”

“Still. I didn’t ask for a raise. The money that I was earning was more than enough to keep up with my lifestyle and I was satisfied with it. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. You and I both know that this place only runs smoothly because of you.”

The compliment warmed her, shooting itself down to her core. This was probably the nicest thing Steve has ever said to her.

“As for the not smiling thing,” Steve continued, oblivious to the giddiness that threatened to show itself from Y/N. “I didn’t think I had to.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N said, cocking her head to the side.

“To everyone else in the building, I have to smile. Put up the walls that are needed to make people feel good and comfortable so they could get their jobs done. With you, I always felt like I didn’t have to do that. That I could drop the mask.” He met her eyes, staring so deep into her that Y/N had to hold her breath. A part of her was terrified that if she so much as breathed incorrectly, he’d look away from her and she couldn’t bare it.

Under the bright fluorescent lights of the office, Y/N saw that Steve’s blue eyes were marred with green, a tiny imperfection that made Y/N love his eyes even more.

His eyes flickered to her lips, a thoughtful look on his face as he did so and for one, insane moment, Y/N thought that Steve would kiss her.

Then Steve looked away, shattering their connection. The air sucked itself back in Y/N’s lungs as she looked at anywhere else but him. His wedding ring flashed under the light and a feeling of guilt dawned on her.

Steve was a married man. She shouldn’t have feelings like this for a married man. Not only that, he was her boss. Whatever relationship they could have had would have been inappropriate. He was her boss and she was an employee. She had to draw the line in the sand right now otherwise… Well, she didn’t know what she’d do.

After that night, Y/N made sure that everything that transpired between her and Steve was purely professional and for the next six months, nothing like that ever happened again. She’d chalked it up to several late nights in a row and that her lapse in judgement was simply because she had been tired.

She even managed to find herself a boyfriend and soon, her interaction with Steve became a distant memory.

And for the next six months, it seemed normal to call Steve a friend. Steve began confiding to her about the problems in his marriage, about his regrets marrying his wife when he was so young. He told her about the frequent arguments he had with her and how he liked to have late nights in the office because coming home late meant that he could avoid another, inevitable argument with his wife. He told her that if they didn’t argue about his job, it was about his desire to have kids while she didn’t.

“Why did you marry her then? If she didn’t want kids and you did?” Y/N asked him one night. Chinese takeout containers laid strewn around the table while the smell of brewing coffee filled the room.

Steve sighed from next to her. His tie was loose around his neck, his jacket abandoned in the opposite couch while his sleeves were pushed up his forearms. He was leaning against the amr of the chait while his legs rested on Y/N’s lap, his shoes abandoned on the floor. “Because she said she wanted them.”

“What made her change her mind?” Y/N asked, staring at Steve intently.

“I’m not sure. To be honest, I don’t think she ever did. I think she never wanted them in the first place and that she only said those things to marry me.”

“That’s horrible,” Y/N frowned. “I’m sorry. You haven’t thought about divorce?”

“I have. Just didn’t really think that was a good enough reason to leave.”

“Irreconcilable differences is a provision for a reason,” Y/N teased, slapping Steve’s calf jokingly.

Steve cracked a smile. “Who knows. Maybe one day, I’ll find my reason.”

And for a while, Y/N was happy and content.

Then she found her boyfriend in bed with another woman and it broke her.

And now, after a late night of what was suppose to be her poring over papers with Steve, she was sobbing in his arms, mascara dripping down her face as she blubbered about how stupid she was for falling for another guy even though the guy before this one hurt her too.

“Imagine! Two men in a row who cheated on me,” Y/N cried as Steve reached for a tissue and passed it to her.

He sat next to her on the catch, the stack of papers written in Russian that laid on the table were all but forgotten. His attention was fixed wholly on her, a look of concern on his face.

“This is my fault,” Y/N sniffled, dabbing at her eyes. “I did this. I keep falling for men who I know will just hurt me. Subliminally, it’s like I don’t want to be happy. I—“ the image of her boyfriend in bed with another woman intruded in her thoughts, bringing another stab in her heart. A fresh wave of tears came out as the feeling of despair clung to her.

Steve frowned and pulled her in a hug. He gripped at her shoulders, his head resting on her crown as he gave her soothing pats. The smell of his cologne enveloped her, briefly distracting her from her horrible thoughts. He smelled good. Her hands found themselves wrapped around his torso, clinging onto any human contact she could find. She just needed a hug right now and she didn’t care who it came from.

“This is not your fault,” Steve said gently as his hand circled her back. “None of this is your fault. He didn’t deserve you. You are one of the kindest, smartest and most beautiful woman I know. He knew that and he let you go. He’s the stupid one.”

Y/N pulled away, his words echoing in her ears. She searched his eyes for any hint of insincerity but found none. He looked at her, eyebrows knit, his breathing deep and heavy. Like he was breathing her in as much as he could. She probably looked like a mess right now but she couldn’t have guessed it with the way Steve looked at her, like she was something special.

She wasn’t sure who leaned in first.

All she knew was that they were kissing. Her hands found themselves in his hair, pulling her to him, closing as much of the gap between them as she could. His hands were on her back, at her neck, at her head, touching her everywhere he could, memorizing every crevice of her body like this was the last time he’d ever feel it and he wanted to savor the moment.

She also wasn’t sure who did what next. All she knew was that their clothes were on the floor and they weren’t going to stop. An asteroid could come crashing down on Earth and Y/N wouldn’t have let go of him.

She knew she shouldn’t. The rational part of her told her to stop before things could go any further, before they’d do something they’d regret. But Y/N knew deep down that she would never regret anything when it came to Steve. He could pour gasoline on the whole world and all she would do was the pass the match and enjoy the light show.

Y/N was Eve and Steve was her forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden and she knew then that she would keep defying God if it meant she could continue tasting its sweetness.

She didn’t care who she’d hurt so long as she didn’t hurt Steve. She waited for him to tell her to stop but he didn’t and to Y/N, that was enough of an answer. There was no stopping, not on his end, and definitely not on hers.

By the time they were done, the sun was beginning to come up and Y/N wasn’t sure which way was up and which way was down. All she knew was that she did an irresponsible thing, one that she would likely pay for in the near future.

Rationality dawned on her then and after a long discussion with Steve about how this could never happen again and that this was a one time thing and that she would never be an office cliche by being the tempting secretary who seduced her boss and made her cheat on his wife and how they have to keep their relationship professional, she went home and took a long, cold shower.

But then they had another long night.

And another long night.

And another, even longer night.

And suddenly, Y/N found herself in a hotel room, naked beneath the duvet, her head resting on Steve’s chest while he absentmindedly played with her hair. Their first time felt like a faraway dream, especially since a year has passed since then.

The business conference they attended here in Germany had ended the day before and Steve and Y/N had decided to stay for a whole week, if only to have time to themselves.

The past few days had been some of the best days of Y/N’s life and she knew, deep down, that she wouldn’t enjoy herself as much as she did if Steve wasn’t around.

And that’s when it hit her.

She looked up at him, his name a whisper on her lips. “Steve?”

“Hmm?” His eyes shifted, focusing on her. She’d recently noticed that every time she spoke or walk into a room, his attention would shift and focus wholly on her and the only time he’d break away was when he had to.

“I think I love you.” There it was. Those three magic words. There was no going back now. Y/N thought the point of no return had been when they first had sex or maybe it was when they kept doing it over and over and over again but this. This had to be the point of no return. Because Y/N didn’t even want to take the words back, especially not when she saw Steve’s face as she said it.

“I love you too,” His eyes were soft, his breathing deep and relaxed, like the words brought him a sense of peace he didn’t have before. Then he said something else that shifted Y/N’s world into axis and snatched the air from her lungs. “You’re my reason.”

That gave her pause. His reason. She didn’t think he’d ever say it and she’d never asked. She was always so afraid that he would say no but hearing it come from him… It felt like she’d been holding her breath for a year and she could finally breathe. “You mean—“

“Yeah. I’m leaving her.” He said the words like it was easy as breathing for him. Like he’d thought about this for months and he’d come to the right conclusion. There was no hint of hesitation in his voice just solid clarity.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Y/N joked, a wry smile on her face. She wasn’t sure what to say. She was almost scared that if she expressed too much happiness, it would scare him off. But Steve never left her. Not when she was a blubbering mess, not when she was angry at nothing and not even when she cried in his arms after yet another inevitable fight with her dad. He stuck by her through everything, as though seeing all the horrible parts of her made him want to stay even more.

Steve cracked a smile. “Not all of them. Just the one.”

“Oh?”

“Mm-hmm. She’s kinda amazing, this girl. I wish I’d met her sooner. She’s funny, has the most amazing laugh I’d ever heard. She’s smart too. Did I ever tell you that this girl can speak more languages than I can count? She even graduated top of her class in Yale. She’s warm and caring and is easily one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

“Well, she sounds like a lucky girl.” Y/N grinned. Her heart felt just about ready to burst out of her skin.

“Not really. I have to say I’m the lucky one.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but she couldn’t stop her blush from rising. “You’re very cheesy, Steve.”

“Only to you,” he smiled, placing a kiss on her hair. “Where would you want our next business trip to be?”

Y/N thought for a minute before she replied. “I was thinking Paris. I’ve never been there before.”

“You speak French but you’ve never been to Paris before?”

“Well I speak Spanish and Italian and they’re very similar so it was an easy enough language to learn.”

“What I really want to know is why you’re not working for the UN with the number of languages you speak.”

Y/N grinned. “I’d make a horrible diplomat. Too temperamental. I might accidentally insult a person and start a civil war or something.”

Steve let out a laugh. “I can see that happening. Paris it is then. Someday, I’ll take you there. We’ll take walks along the Seine and drink coffee on little bistros. Buy pastries from a bakery and maybe even visit the Louvre.”

“You shouldn’t say those things to me. It’s filling my head with ideas,” Y/N couldn’t stop the outlandish grin on her face. Paris with Steve sounded like paradise. She could almost picture it, a faraway star that was close enough to pluck out of the sky.

Y/N wished she could stay that way forever. Warm and in Steve’s arms dreaming of dreams for the future.

But even when you were dreaming, you have to wake up.

So they went home and the illusion of a future together turned into smoke when Steve hadn’t broken things off after three months.

She had been patient. She didn’t pressure him, didn’t ask him to do anything he hadn’t already promised her. She didn’t even bring up his promise to her that he would leave her. She knew that what Steve would do was difficult and pressuring him into doing it even more when he wasn’t ready yet would just make an already difficult situation even more so.

But then he’d ask her to book her two flights to Moscow for him and his wife and suddenly, Y/N felt like a stupid, silly girl for listening to him. For putting her trust in him when it was clear that he was just playing with her feelings. She felt foolish and, even though they’d kept their illicit affair a secret, she felt humiliated.

“You’re going on vacation with her,” Y/N said. Her chest felt like a hole had been carved into it and her stomach had felt as though it had disappeared entirely, replaced by a cage full of restless birds fighting for release.

“It’s not what you think,” Steve sighed, running a hand through his face. “I—“

“You made a promise to me, Steve. Or did you forget?” She wanted to gobble the words up after Steve’s flash of hurt but there was no taking them back. They were already out in the open.

“That’s not fair, Y/N.”

“I know, Steve.” Y/N said, clearly frustrated. “I didn’t bring it up for three months. I didn’t talk about it. I didn’t ask you to do it. You offered. You were the one who told me that you were ending things and I didn’t pressure you to do it quickly because I knew that this was a hard thing for you to do. But now you’re going on vacation with her.”

“It’s one trip!”

“And then it’s going to be another. And another. And another until I’ll find myself five years from now, still sleeping with my married boss, sighing after you like some naive school girl. I’m not stupid, Steve. I told you once that I was never going to be the office cliche and I meant it. If you don’t have any intention of breaking things off your wife, you need to tell me. Because I am not going to spend the rest of my life as your mistress.”

Steve sighed, running his head through his hair. The blonde strands spiked up his head, sticking them out in odd angles. His elbows were propped up on his office table as Y/N stood before him and it was clear that Steve was getting tired. “I wasn’t lying and I didn’t forget about my promise to you. It’s one trip. Two weeks at most. Please, can you trust me?”

Y/N didn’t say anything. She simply sighed, and walked out of his office, grabbing her things in the process and descending down the nearly deserted building, hailing a taxi home.

Steve left the next day and Y/N didn’t so much as bid him a goodbye.

Y/N had simply gone to work and gone about her day.

With Steve gone, her time in the office was more relaxed, which was a good thing since she spent most of her morning in the bathroom, throwing her guts up.

Wanda found her like that, her head resting on the toilet, cold sweat glistening on her skin as another wave of nausea hit her and soon, she was throwing up what little food she ate last night.

“Are you okay?” Wanda asked, crouching next to her, pulling her hair back.

“I must have eaten something last night,” Y/N said, grabbing a wad of toilet paper and wiping her mouth before flushing the toilet.

“Are you sure?” Wanda asked, while she helped Y/N to her feet.

“What else could it be? It’s not like I’m—“

She paused, considering her next words.

When was the last time she’d gotten her period? She always had an irregular flow and she would drink birth control to help regulate it. The chances of her getting pregnant was slim to none. So she couldn’t possibly be pregnant, right?

“Stay here,” Wanda said, catching on to her drift. She quickly exited the bathroom, and entered moments after, a pregnancy test in her hand. She locked the door behind her before handing the test to Y/N.

“How did you buy a pregnancy test so fast?” Y/N frowned, taking the test from her friend.

“Vis and I have been trying. I was suppose to use it later today but you need it more than I do,” Wanda shrugged.

The five minutes that Y/N had to wait for the test was the longest five minutes of her life. And the minute it took for her to read the test was POSITIVE felt even longer.

“I don’t know if I should congratulate you or not,” Wanda said, taking the pregnancy from Y/N’s hand and wrapping it in wads of tissue paper before tossing it out.

“It has to be a false positive,” Y/N said shakily.

“It could be but pregnancy tests are 99% accurate.”

“I’m on birth control. I can’t be pregnant. We used condoms. We—“

Y/N felt her body start to feel numb and if it wasn’t for Wanda’s comforting hand on her shoulder, she would have collapsed into a sobbing mess right there and then.

“It’s Steve’s, isn’t it?” Her voice was low, almost soothing, like she was a mother comforting her child.

Y/N’s head snapped to Wanda, her eyebrow knitting together. “How did you know?”

“Steve had to tell me. Company policy. Before you get mad, he didn’t tell anyone else and I didn’t tell anyone else. We’re the only three people who know.”

Y/N sighed before she sunk to the floor, her back against the wall. Wanda sat next to her, taking her hand in hers. “You must think I’m really irresponsible.” She never envisioned her life going this way and now she was pregnant with no plan. She felt utterly alone and a feeling of devastation weighed her stomach down. What the hell was she going to do?

“To be honest, I thought it was about time,” Wanda reassured. She even said it with a slight shrug, as though being a mistress and pregnant was something that shouldn’t bring Y/N an iota of shame. “I’ve been working here a lot longer than you have, Y/N and I’ve seen Steve with his wife, Kate. That was an unhappy marriage if I ever saw one. He use to tell me he was looking for a reason to leave. I think he finally found it.”

“You don’t think I’m a horrible person? Other people in your place would have called me a whore by now.”

“I’m not other people. Steve loves you more than he ever loved his wife.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Y/N sniffled, wiping at her eyes.

“Maybe you don’t notice it but when you enter a room, he’s always the first person to look at you. Whenever you’re around, his smiles get even brighter and he never talks about his wife the way he talks about you. So, trust me when I say that Steve loves you more than he ever loved Kate.”

Y/N sat in silence, letting Wanda’s words sink in. Wanda’s hands felt warm around hers. A sense of comfort settled on her and the feeling of being utterly alone seemed to disappear. Having Wanda be there for her, even for just a moment, felt enough for now.

“If you want to get rid of it, I’d support that too. We can go to Planned Parenthood right now,” Wanda said, interrupting the silence. “It’s your choice.”

Y/N let out a wry chuckle. Despite everything, if there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she was not getting rid of her baby. “Uhm no. I think I want to keep it.”

“Okay,” Wanda said, a little relieved. It seemed, despite her words, the thought of aborting the child was a little too much for her. Still, Y/N appreciated the gesture. It’s not everyone who’d offer to take their friend to Planned Parenthood and hold their hand while they went through an abortion.

“So, what’s the plan?”

Y/N through about it for her a moment before she replied. “He’s not going to leave Kate. He made that clear when he went on vacation with her. Right now, I need to do right by me. Consider this my two weeks notice, Wands.”

Wanda frowned. “You’re leaving?”

“There’s an email on my laptop right now for a job offer in Paris. They said I could have the job if I take it in two weeks. It has good benefits, it’s almost double my current salary and it’s for an executive position. I was suppose to email them that I wasn’t interested but I think leaving is the right move for me right now.”

“What about Steve?”

“What about him?”

“You won’t tell him about the baby?”

Y/N sighed. Her thoughts were running a mile a minute and possibilities of the future haunted her. Steve’s face, his laugh, his smile would flash in her head. She pushed them as far away as she could.

Right now, Steve should be the last thing in her mind.

She should be thinking of her unborn child and herself, not the man who left her to be with his wife. But as hard as she tried, Steve always seemed to permeate her thoughts and right now, he was pleading with her to wait for him.

“Right now, I have to worry about myself, Wands. I should leave as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” Wanda nodded with a frown. “I’ll support you but, I want to let you know that I don’t think leaving is the best course of action.”

“It is for me.”

So before two weeks were over, Y/N was packed and was already in a plane to Paris. Another week passed and she was settled in her job and was looking for OB-GYNs that she could trust.

She couldn’t believe that only three weeks had passed since she left New York. Steve would probably have been back by now.

She tried not to think about him, at least not while she was at work. When Steve wedged himself in her mind, he dominated her space, filled up every single crevice he could find until there was no room left for anything else but him. It was always distracted and usually, wondering about him triggered a bout of morning sickness. Y/N would joked that it was probably her body’s way of purging Steve Rogers from her system. If her mind couldn’t get rid of him, then her body will.

But it was hard not to think about him when she was alone at night with no one to keep her company but her thoughts. She knew that Steve was probably back by now and had learned about her resignation in his absence. She wondered how he had reacted. Was he upset by her sudden departure? Or was he indifferent and apathetic? Did he go back to the cold man he once was?

She didn’t know the answer and even with Wanda checking up on her, she didn’t want to know. Steve was her past. There was no use getting upset over the past. You can only really let go.

And that’s what she did.

She let him go.

She sat outside a tiny cafe by the Seine, the wind whipping at her hair, the metallic smell of the river washing over her.

Coffee was the beverage she couldn’t quite let go of. She gladly gave up alcohol and tea. But coffee? Especially in France? She would have gone crazy.

Luckily, her doctor had advised her that she could still drink coffee, albeit in smaller quantities.

This was her first and only cup of coffee for the day so she relished its taste.

One of the best things about working in her new job was the flexibility of her schedule. So she spent a lot of her leisure time by herself in Parisian cafes, drinking coffee and eating pastries.

She took another, long sip of her coffee, staring ahead to the other side of embankment. Couples strolled around, holding hands and laughing at each other. Y/N felt a pang in her chest at the thought before swatting the feeling aside.

It did not do well to dwell on the past.

She took another sip of her coffee before taking a bite of the soft and buttery croissant. If there’s another thing she loved about Paris, it was the food.

Much to her chagrin, she heard the sound of the chair on the other side of the table scrape against the floor.

She felt just about ready to tell the person who had the audacity to approach her and sit on her table to go merde themselves and leave her alone but upon seeing who the man was, the words died on her lips.

Steve was dressed in a long black coat, its collar popped to protect his neck from the cold wind. His hair was coiffed in it’s usual style and a beard had began to grow on his face. He wasn’t wearing any of the suits Y/N was accustomed to seeing him in but was rather dressed in a style more suited for a man in France. He looked so relax before her that Y/N almost didn’t recognize him.

“I thought coffee was bad for the baby?” Steve said nonchalantly, like this was all so normal to him.

His words gave Y/N a pause. So he knows about the baby.

“It is if you drink too much,” Y/N said, her words measured and precise.

Steve blinked at her. It was her only hint that he was shocked at her words. “I’m surprise you didn’t deny being pregnant.”

“Wanda told you, didn’t she? She knew where to find me and she told you.” There was no malice in her words and she couldn’t even bring herself to be upset that Wanda had ratted her out. Her friend had done so much for her, had offered to fo even more. She couldn’t bring herself to be upset, especially not when she knew that Wanda only had her best interest at heart.

“Yeah. She did.” Steve leaned against the chair, the image of a perfectly relaxed god content to let his subjects rule in peace. The sunlight hit his face, highlighting his strong jawline and the yellowness of his hair.

He looked so good it almost hurt to look at him.

“Let me guess, you’re pissed that I ran off,” Y/N said, her voice still measured and precise.

To anybody walking in the street, it would have been hard to figure out that Y/N and Steve had a complicated history, especially when they presented themselves with such reverent peace that it was like watching two old friends catching up.

“I was, at first,” Steve nodded, the image of calmness. “I’m more upset over the fact that you didn’t have any plans to tell me that you’re carrying my kid.”

“Might not be yours,” Y/N shrugged. “I could have had other relationships.”

A look of hurt flashed in Steve’s blue eyes, cracking the carefully placed facade. Y/N almost wanted to take the words back but a part of her felt a sick feeling of satisfaction at see him hurt by her. After everything he’d done to her, the hurt he felt was little compared to the pain she felt at his hands.

“Well? Were there others?”

“No,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “Of the two of us, you were the only unfaithful one. I only ever had you.”

This time, Steve flinched at her words. The flash of hurt and pain lingered in his face and Y/N could feel her own facade start to break at the sight of it. She could be mean, yes, but she wasn’t cruel. She was saying these things to hurt Steve, to have him feel the same wretched feelings she felt while she cried in the bathroom with Wanda but Y/N still loved Steve and knowing that she was the source of his pain had thorns digging at Y/N’s heart.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N sighed, leaning on the table. “I’m being mean. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“I should be the one apologizing,” Steve said, leaning on the table as well. His previously relaxed position had abandoned him and he seemed to quiver with a restlessness that Y/N always saw when he was nervous about something. “I didn’t even explain why I went to that vacation.”

“Steve, it’s okay if you want to stay with Kate,” Y/N sighed reaching for his hand and gripping it in her own in reassurance. The words hurt to say but Steve didn’t owe her anything. They were two consenting adults and if one of them decided to pull out of their screwed up agreement, the other couldn’t force the other to stay.

“We’re divorced,” Steve said while he turned their hands and rubbed circles on her palm.

“Oh,” Y/N said feebly. Her mind blanked at his words. What was she suppose to say? That she was sorry? That she wish things ended between them differently? She couldn’t say those things, not when she was probably the reason why they ended things in the first place. “That was fast.” Was her only reply.

“It was time,” Steve explained. “I finalized the divorce before leaving to come here and look for you. I wanted to come here as soon as I heard you were gone but I owed Kate an explanation. That’s what the vacation was for. I told her that I’ve been having an affair and that I love you and that I wanted a divorce. She looked a little relieved to be honest. We both were. I don’t think she wanted to stay with me either.”

“I’m guessing the divorce was expensive,” as a millionaire on his way to becoming a billionaire, Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if Steve had to pay millions in alimony.

“She didn’t ask for much. Just the house we were living in now. She said she wanted as little to do with me as possible and I agreed. I figured, with me staying here in Paris with you, it’s for the best that I gave it to her.”

Y/N gave a little start at his words. “What did you say?”

“I’ve always wanted to open a European division of the company. Now seems like a good place to start. I also intend to marry this amazing girl who’s more than qualified to help me run things as my COO. She would have known all these things if she’d stayed in New York and waited for me like I’d asked.” The look he gave her was pointed and a smirk quirked the side of his lips. He was enjoying this, seeing her squirm under his gaze.

“Well, this girl was pregnant. You can’t blame her for being a little irrational,” Y/N said, her brows knitted together. That still didn’t stop the smile that began to grew on her face at Steve’s words.

“You’re right. I can’t. She still hasn’t told me if she would marry me though,” Steve said. His thumb was still rubbing circles on Y/N’s palm and after three weeks without seeing him or hearing from him, the close contact had a little shiver of delight running down her spine.

“Well if that’s how you plan to propose to her, I don’t think she’ll say yes. I’d bet this girl wants to be proposed to the the old fashioned way and—“ she paused, the words dying on her lips at a sudden thought.

“Steve, you don’t have to marry me for the sake of the baby. They’ll be in your life. I won’t take that away from you or from them,” She frowned.

“What?” He pulled his hand away from her and the sudden loss of contact had her hand suddenly feeling cold.

The words that came out of her were quick, almost garbled with how rushed she sounded. “I don’t want you rushing into another marriage only for you to regret things towards the end. And I know you. You wouldn’t divorce me because we’d have a child together. You’d stay because of him or her or whatever the hell they’ll choose to identify as in the future. I want you to be happy, Steve. Even if that happiness isn’t with me. You deserve—“

“You don’t believe I’ll be happy with you?” Steve frowned.

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” Y/N sighed. She felt frustrated, like they were going around in circles. The uncertainty of her future, their futures, left an ugly, metallic taste in her mouth.

“The two years we were together has to be the best two years of my life,” Steve said sincerely, taking her hand in his again and planting a kiss on it. “As for the future, none of us knows what’ll happen. But all I know is that I want to spend them with you. I’ll face whatever uncertainty there is so long as I face it with you next to me.”

This time, Steve didn’t hesitate as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a red velvet box. He opened it and Y/N couldn’t stop the gasp that came out of her. The diamond was giant and blue and cut into a pretty princess cut with clusters of smaller white diamonds encircling around it while it was set in a band of gold.

It had to be the prettiest thing she’d ever seen.

“I saw it and I thought of you,” Steve said, almost shyly as he plucked it out of the box. “Do you remember when you confronted me about the Stark merger? You were wearing blue then. And that was when I realized that I couldn’t hope to keep you at arm’s length.”

Trust Steve Rogers to remember a completely small detail about her life.

“So, what will it be, Y/N? Will you marry me?”

This time, her answer was automatic. “Yes. I will.”

#steve rogers oneshots #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers x reader #avengers oneshot #avengers fanfic #avengers imagines #steve rogers au #captain america #captain america oneshots #captain america imagines #captain america x reader #steve x reader #chris evans #andy barber #wanda maximoff #vision

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chaoticforever · 4 years ago

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End Of The Line | Yandere Steve Rogers x Male! Reader

A/N: Got a request for a Teacher Steve x student male reader. Reader is 18 and Steve is 22.

"C'mon dude. We have to leave now, especially if the Janitor comes in here."

You stood up from your position on the floor as Michael pulled his pants up, zipping it up as he shook his head, rubbing your slightly hard member over the thick fabric of your pants.

"Don't worry, he won't be coming back any time soon. 20 bucks is all he needed to let us use this room," He told you as he continued to rub his hands over the outline of your member, sucking on your neck, "Just relax for me, babe. You gave me a blowjob, so I want to return the favor. Please let me blow you. I'll make you feel good and I know you want it." He whispered in your ear.

Ugh, you hated the way he made you feel because you did want it. Very bad.

He unbuckled your belt and your senses came rushing back to you, causing you to back away from him as he pouted.

"Unfortunately, we can't." You insisted, buckling your belt back up and grabbing your bag, watching as he did the same, "You know that Principal Fury is waiting for a chance to bust us for skipping again, so we can get kicked out of school during our senior year. He's always hated us and wants us gone."

"But he can't kick us out! Were seniors!"

"Despite us being seniors, he still can," You sighed and Michael pouted very cutely, "Stop pouting so cutely, okay? We can finish what we started at my house. My parents will be out until pretty late."

Michael grinned and planted a kiss on your lips, "Okay, I'll hold you to it."

You rolled your eyes and took a note out of your pocket, handing it to him as he took it, looking confused, "That note will excuse you for being late for class. I forged your mom's signature and don't question how I did that." You added in, seeing the questioning look he sent you.

Michael read over the note and he was amazed how much it looked like his mom's handwriting, "I have the coolest boyfriend in the world. Were gonna forge signatures more often."

"Uh-huh, sure. Go to class now, Mikey."

You gave him a kiss and left the janitor's closet, heading to your first period.

You opened the door and walked inside, "I'm sorry that I'm late, Mr. Evans, but-" You paused, finally seeing that the teacher was not Mr. Evans but someone else, "You're not Mr. Evans."

The blonde teacher shook his head, "No, I'm Mr. Rogers. You're new teacher. Who are you and why are you late for class?"

Oh fuck. Guess you had another strict teacher. Though, you found it a little strange that his eyes seemed to look over your form, and also seemed to be outright gawking at you.

You placed the note that had your mom's signature on the desk and walked over to your seat, giving your friend your bag as he took it gracefully.

"Sorry, for being late, sir. I had a doctors appointment." You sat down next to Matt and totally missed the way Mr. Rogers' whole body tensed at the word sir.

"Yeah, and I bet this appointment involved having your dick examined." George Brockers said from the other side of the room, knowing where you really were.

Everyone in this class knew that you were in the Janitors closet with Michael.

Some of the class snickered along with George.

"Yes. That's right, George. And while I was there I ran into your gynecologist, who told me to remind you to keep your vagina clean unless you want a foot up your ass." You responded without looking at him, as laughs and giggles filled the room and George stayed silent.

"Alright class, settle down! Get back to work now!" Mr. Rogers ordered sternly, as his baby blue eyes looked at... you?

XXXXX XXXXX

Three months have passed since Mr. Rogers became your new teacher and he was...something. That's the right word for you blonde teacher.

Strange is a word to describe him, too.

For starters, he had decided to place you in the front seat of the classroom, away from Matt and Harry, despite you all being seniors and he seemed to stare at you a lot which creeped you out.

There's also the fact that he managed to show up wherever you were. At the restaurant where you worked and would sometimes stay until closing, somehow he got to stand near you at the carnival when you were there with Michael, and that his arm seemed to graze over your arm when he tried to help you with work.

When you brought it up to Michael, his only response was that you were just overreacting, and you may have been overreacting a little now that you thought about it, so you decided not to think about Mr. Rogers anymore and spend time with your boyfriend.

You two spent some time together at the park, eating ice cream as Michael kept trying to steal some of yours, before deciding to head back to your place.

Once you entered your house, the smell of food immediately entered your nostrils and you knew that your mom was cooking some tasty food.

"Hey mom! I'm back and something smells really good. What are you cook-"

You stopped midway and closed your mouth at seeing Mr. Rogers sitting on the couch with your mom and dad.

Did you forget to mention that you and Mr. Rogers were neighbors, too?

"What are you doing here, Mr. Rogers?"

Mom stood up from her spot on the couch, "Steve has brought up some concerns about you and we would like to talk to you alone. Michael, I'm sorry you came here, but we really need to speak with our son alone. Can you leave now?"

"He doesn't need to leave. You can say what you have to say in front of him." You stated firmly, tightening your grip on his hand as your dad shook his head, standing up as well.

"I don't want that son of a bitch corrupting my son anymore! Get out of my house, Michael!" Your Dad shouted.

"Whoa! Dad don't shout-"

"Don't tell me what I can do in my house, okay?" Dad exclaimed, turning to face Michael, "Now get out of my house!"

Michael released your hand and walked towards without saying a word as you ran after him.

"Wait Michael!" You called out after him, but he didn't stop walking. He walked out of your house and hopped into his car, taking off down the road. You sighed and walked back inside your house to face your parents, and your teacher, "Well, he's gone. Now talk."

"Look son, we think it's best that you stop seeing Michael immediately."

"Why would I do that?" You questioned, "And why would you even ask me to do that when you know that I love him?"

"Sweetie, we have noticed how different you've been acting lately and we know that Michael is the reason for it," Mom spoke up next, "Mr. Rogers has informed us about you skipping class, your grades dropping to a low percentage, and that you have been making out with Michael along with drinking alcohol."

You now turned to face Rogers, "Oh, so you're telling my parents about all the things I do now, huh? Do you do this with other students, or is it just me?"

"I'm only expressing my concerns to your parents the same way I do with my other students as well," He told you, but you didn't believe him, "And if I'm being honest with you, Michael isn't the greatest of all guys to be with."

"Hmm, well good thing I didn't ask for your honesty on my relationship!"

"Don't raise your voice at adults, Y/N!" Dad scolded, "Now, Mr. Rogers has a point. That boy has corrupted you. Changed you completely. And I'm not going to stand by and let this continue."

"You know, I don't get y'all. Out of all people, I thought that you both would see that Michael is a good person, and makes me a better person. He makes me happy and I thought that would be enough for you guys to like him, but looks like I was wrong. Once again."

You walked upstairs to your room, but not before shooting Steve a glare as you retreated to your room, ignoring your parents. You flopped on your bed angrily, as you closed your eyes.

"That damn Rogers." You muttered angrily, as your eyes remained closed and soon you drifted off to sleep.

XXXXX XXXXX

Steve stood inside your bedroom, watching as you slept.

He managed to come in here by telling your parents that he had to use the bathroom along with trying to see if you would be okay with being tutored, and they agreed to his request.

God, you looked so cute when you were sleeping, but you looked even hotter when you were upset which he loved watching you being angry downstairs.

The blonde haired male had become obsessed with you ever since he saw you on his first day of school.

He knew that it was wrong.

You were his student and he was your teacher. Relationships between the two were forbidden. But you were both adults. He was only 22 years old, and you were 18. Only a four year difference. You were an angel. His angel.

Steve unbuckled his belt and slid down his jeans along with his boxers.

He wrapped his hand around his cock, and stroked it slowly at first as images of you entered his mind.

The blue eyed male imagined you bent over the counter as he plunged his dick into your juicy, delicious hole. Him dominating you, as you cried out his name, him stroking your cock. Or him plunging his finger into your tight hole, watching as he had you pinned under him, looking so helpless and desperate.

All of those dirty thoughts ended up becoming filthier and filthier, causing Steve to pick up his pace. He strokes himself harder and faster, letting out a little moan. Luckily, that moan wasn't loud enough to wake you up. He guessed you were a deep sleeper.

"Oh, Y/N..." He stroked his cock harder, thrusting becoming more rapid, heart rate increasing as his chest moved up and down. He reached his orgasm, "Mine." White come got all over your sheets and some of your body, as you face twitched slightly in response.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, pulling his pants and boxers up.

He needed to leave for two reasons.

To change his clothes, and get out of here before either you or your parents saw him in here. He left, but not before grabbing your dirty underwear in the hamper. He needed something of yours until he takes you for himself. He needs you now and he's going to have you.

...By hook or by crook.

XXXXX XXXXX

You blinked your eyes open after some time and sat up with a groan. The first thought running through your mind was, 'What the fuck is on my face?'

You lifted your hand to touch your face and some sticky, white substance was on your face. What the fuck is this?

When you looked down at your light blue sheets, you saw how it seemed to be drenched in something.

Did you masturbate? No, you didn't. And you didn't have a wet dream cause you would have remembered it, and there's no way that it could have got on your face.

Deciding not to dwell on this anymore, you went to your bathroom that was connected to your room and washed your face really good since you didn't know what the hell it was.

Upon returning to your room, you peaked out your window to see that your parents car wasn't here. Good. You took your phone off the charger and called Michael.

"Hey N/N."

"Hey Michael. I'm so sorry for the way my parents acted towards you today."

"Don't worry about it, love. It's okay."

"But it's not okay. You've been nothing, but a good boyfriend to me and you didn't deserve any of that."

"Seriously man, it's alright. Your parents were just being overprotective of you, and I understand where they're coming from."

You smiled on the other side of the phone. You had the best boyfriend and also the toughest boyfriend ever.

"Well, I'm really glad you're ok after all of that. And do you wanna pick me up and hang out today, or have you had enough of the L/N family for one day?"

"I'll come pick you up and hopefully your parents aren't home because there is something I want to do to you that your parents wouldn't appreciate."

You grinned, "Lucky for you, they aren't here right now and probably won't be for a while. Wow Michael, maybe you really are corrupting me. You're a bad boy."

"Oh, I'm the baddest and I plan on corrupting you to the fullest," You both laughed and the sound of his laugh was so soothing to your ears, "I'll see you later, sweetcheeks."

"I'll see you later, tree biscuit."

You hung up the phone and placed it on the bed. You couldn't wait for him to get here.

Until he arrives, you decide to watch TV and put on one of those Marvel movies. To be quite honest, you found it awfully strange how Mr. Rogers and your chemistry teacher, Mr. Stark looked a lot like the actors in the movie, Chris Evans and Robert Downey Jr. Almost identical.

Weird right?

XXXXX XXXXX

You paused the movie midway when you got a text message on your phone.

Open the door. ~Michael.

Excitement fluttered through you like a drug and you ran downstairs, opening the door. You frowned, not seeing him anywhere, but his car was parked in front of your house, his dark windows made it impossible for you to see him through it.

You made a mental note to talk to him about that. You went over to his car and opened the door, "C'mon Michael, let's-" You paused midway, finally getting a good look at your boyfriend and you screamed.

His body was in the front seat of the car, blood covering most of his body with a knife jammed into his side. You checked his pulse and let out a little sigh of relief that he had a pulse. A fading pulse, but a pulse nonetheless.

He could be okay. But you didn't understand who would do this to him, but you didn't have time to dwell on that because you'd have to hurry or he would die.

You ran back inside and upstairs to get your phone, but it was gone. What? You left it on the bed. You were sure of it.

Music suddenly started playing throughout your house and it was a song you knew all too well. This was you and Michael's song that you both listened to when he asked you out.

You walked down the stairs cautiously, but not before grabbing the emergency knife you kept in your closet for safety reasons.

"Hello Y/N," Steve's voice came from behind you, causing you to turn around. He stood there with flowers in his hand as he sent you a dashing smile, "I got you your favorite flowers and I know that this is your favorite song."

"What are you doing in my house?!" You screamed, holding the knife in front of you defensively when you saw him take a step forward.

"I'm here for you. I'm here to show you how much I love you and how much you mean to me. Despite being my student, I know that you are the one for me. We are meant to be together. I know it. Will you go out with me?" He asked, taking another step forward.

You shook your head and watched as his face morphed into anger real quick, "No, you sick fuck!"

You stabbed him in the thigh as he winced in pain. You ran to the door, but was yanked back into his chest with one hand as he dropped the flowers on the floor with his other hand and used it to take the knife out of his thigh, wincing.

He turned you around to face him and gripped your arms possessively.

"You are so damn lucky that I love you. Even when you stabbed me, I can't hate you. I love you too much. I killed Michael for us to be together and I'm not letting you leave me," He kissed you forcibly, sucking on your earlobe, "Can't wait to breed you. You're going to be a good boy for me and let me breed you like the good bitch you are. To suck on your cock will be a dream come true for me and I won't have to imagine myself with your dirty underwear I stolen from your room or the cameras I had installed here."

Of course, it wouldn't actually work because you were two guys and couldn't have a child, but what made it hotter was the fact that you couldn't.

He loved the feeling of having complete control over you right now. It brought him great joy since you now knew who was in charge here.

"You're mine, Y/N. You're mine as much as I'm yours and as you know, I'll kill anyone who dares to take you away from me. It's gonna be me and you until the end of the line."

XXXXX XXXXX

#avengers x reader #avengers x male reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x male reader #yandere steve rogers #yandere steve rogers x reader #yandere steve rogers x male reader #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x male reader #yandere marvel #yandere marvel x male reader #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert

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falcqns · 4 years ago

Text

Selfish

Pairing: Post Endgame!Bucky Barnes x Barton!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are sent on a mission to the 1950′s, and you come face to face with Steve Rogers for the first time.

Warnings: mention of Thanos, swearing, Steve being protecting, Y/N being more protective, The Winter Soldier makes an appearance, insinuation to smut.

A/N: We love stories based off shifting experiences lol. also it was hella exhilarating to scream and swear in America’s Ass’s face LOL. Also If there are any chronological errors with the whole Hank Pym thing, just ignore it I haven’t seen Ant Man yet

You were hiding behind an overturned desk, your gun in one hand, both batons in another. You, Bucky, and Sam had been sitting on the couch enjoying your Saturday, when it was raided by rogue S.H.I.E.L.D operatives from 1951, hell bent on preventing the avengers from forming. But, they didn't have time-space GPS’s like you guys did, so they were thrust into 2024, a year after the events of the final Thanos fight. They had held the three of you at gun point, until you threw a lamp at them, and Bucky reflected their bullets with his vibranium arm while you and Sam ran, you to your gun and batons, and Sam to get his wing suit on. A fight ensued, and everyone had eventually spread across the compound, to where you took refuge behind the overturned desk of Tony Stark. No one had touched his desk since he passed, but that changed today.

You felt someone approach from behind, and you flicked your wrist holding your batons to turn on the taser function, and went to knock out the person behind you, when you were met with Bucky, an amused look on his handsome face. He had two time-space GPS’s in his hand, and well as the bracelets that contained the suit.

“Don’t electrocute me yet, doll,” He said, and you rolled your eyes. “We can fix this. We go back in time, we prevent them from taking the Pym Particles. It’s risky, but I see it as our only option right now. They’re not going down. We need to do something.” He whispered.

“What about Sam?” You whispered, and Bucky looked over his shoulder.

“I knocked a few of them out and told him to get the hell out and I had an idea. He escaped while I covered him. They won't notice anything happening because it might be minutes or hours for us, but it's seconds for them. Trust me?” He asked, and you nodded before taking the suit bracelet and the GPS he offered you, and slipping them on. You put your batons in the holster on your lower back, and your gun in its holster on your thigh. You double tapped the suit bracelet, and took a deep breath as the nanotech quickly covered your body, and head. Bucky programmed his GPS, and you programmed yours to go back to February 23, 1951.

You looked at Bucky and nodded, before you felt the helmet covering your face, and a pull behind your navel, seconds before you entered the quantum realm. You watched as the colours of the quantum realm sped by you as you traveled, and you glanced to your side, sighing as you saw Bucky right there with you. You were nervous, but as long as he was there, you'd be fine.

You felt a stronger pull behind your navel, and you were thrust into 1951. Luckily, the two of you landed in a supply closet, where there were janitors uniforms. You two didn't say anything while you pulled the uniforms on, and slipped out of the closet.

You two kept your heads down, determined to not get recognized while you figured out the plan.

“So, this specific building changed considerably since before I fell off the train, but the labs are this way, just passed the offices in this coming hallway, which is where I’m guessing they put Pym’s lab and office,” He said, and you nodded.

You two turned the corner to the office hallway, and you heard Bucky swear. You looked up at him in confusion before following his eye line and biting back a swear word.

Peggy was standing outside her office, talking to a rather tall, broad shouldered, blonde haired man. Before you could process who it was, Peggy noticed Bucky, and her eyes widened. She exclaimed, and the blonde haired man turned around, to reveal himself as Steve Rogers.

“B-Buck?” He said in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re alive?” Peggy said right after.

Bucky sighed, but the two of you walked up to the couple. You shifted so you were standing slightly behind Bucky. You had quite a few words for Steven Grant Rogers, none of them good things.

“We’re here on a mission. We’re trying to stop 5 rogue agents from coming to 2024, and killing me, Sam, and my girlfriend Y/N.” he said, and you stepped put from behind him, giving Steve a tight lipped smile.

Steve looked over at you, and looked you in the face intently. “How did you meet Bucky?” he asked seriously.

“I met him when my dad introduced me to the remaining Avengers when we went to see Wanda after-” You were going to say ‘the Westview incident’ but didn't want to risk screwing up the timeline so you changed it slightly. “An unfortunate incident.”

He crossed his arms. “Who’s your dad?” He said, his chin tipping up slightly.

“Clint,” You said simply, and he eyed you again, as if he didn't quite believe you, but chose to let it go, wisely. You rolled your eyes, and heard Peggy giggle, to which you gave her a smile.

Steve turned to Bucky and dropped his arms. “Who are these agents?”

“George Peterson, Charles Collins, William White, Robert Gomez, and Paul Cox.” You said, and Bucky looked at you in confusion.

You rolled your eyes and looked at your boyfriend. “Their names were on their uniforms. Where were you looking when they had their guns pointed at our heads?” You said. “AT THE GUNS!” Bucky exclaimed and you rolled your eyes again.

He turned back to Steve. “We need to get to Hank Pym’s lab.” He said, and Steve sighed. “What?”

“Pym’s lab hasn't been moved to this building yet, it’s still in downtown New York. Do you guys have a car?” He asked, and you scoffed.

“Oh yeah, we had time to shove on of those in our pockets while being attacked by psycho’s.” You said, sarcastically.

Bucky looked at you. “Y/N.”

You glanced up at him.

“Sorry. No we did not Capsicle-OW!” You exclaimed when Bucky elbowed you in the side.

Steve sighed, and turned to Peggy. “I might be home late. Gotta help him,” he said, and Peggy gave him an understanding smile.

“It’s okay. Go help,” She said, and after they shared a kiss, Steve was leading you and Bucky out of the building.

“How’ve you been Buck?” He asked. Bucky sighed.

“Oh, y’know. Compound got rebuilt, met the love of my life, been on a few missions with her and Sam. The usual,” To which Steve chuckled.

You three reached Steve’s car a few moments later, and you climbed in the back, while Bucky sat in the passengers seat. You weren't as tall as him, and you were afraid you'd cause an accident if you put next to the literal ass of America.

“Wait,” Steve said, pulling out of the parking lot. “How’d you get on the team,” He said to you. You rolled your eyes but answered.

“I’m the daughter of two super soldiers, Hawkeye and Mockingbird. My mom has multiple serums, which were passed to me, and I got both their strengths, but I prefer to use batons rather than stupid ass arrows that can only be used once,” You said, crossing your arms over your chest, and slumping against the leather seats of his car. Steve nodded, and gave Bucky a look, which Bucky knew meant ‘she doesn't like me does she?’, to which Bucky gave him a look that said ‘this is her being nice to people she despises.’ Steve nodded, and focused on the road.

As the car drove into the city, you looked at how different the buildings looked. It looked exactly like the pictures you had seen, but you were in awe. There were a few skyscrapers, but they certainly didn't look the ones you were used to seeing whenever you went to New York. Bucky and Steve were talking in the front, and you blocked out the conversation to gaze at New York in a time when your father wasn't even born.

You felt the car come to a stop moments later, and you looked up to see you were outside a bland looking building that said “Pym Technologies”. You stepped out of the car, and Bucky immediately took your hand in his. The two of you followed Steve into the building, and made it about a third of the way down one hallway before Bucky pushed you into a room, and pulling Steve with him.

“What the f-” you started to say before Bucky covered your mouth with his vibranium hand.

“That was them. The guys.” Bucky said, and Steve went to the door to see the guys Bucky was referring to walk down the hallway and turn right, in the direction of the offices.

“Okay,” Steve said, turning around to face you two. “Do you have your weapons?” he asked. You unzipped the janitor suit and pointed to the gun and baton holsters on your leggings. Steve nodded, and looked to Bucky who was taking off his janitors uniform and pulled out his gun as well.

“Okay, good.” Steve said. “Now, I left the shield at home because I barely use it, and the kids prefer to use it as a sled in the winter.”

At the mention of his kids, you rolled you eyes again, and Steve had had it with that.

“You keep that up and your eyes will stick,” He said, and you stuck your tongue out at him. He furrowed his eyebrows at you and spoke again. “What is your problem?” He asked, looking over at Bucky for help, who just raised his hands in defeat. He had tried many times to figure out why you had such a problem with Steve but eventually let it go and knew you would tell him when you were ready.

But, you finally decided you were ready. “My problem? What about your problem?”

Steve scoffed. “I don't think I have a problem.”

You laughed. “Oh, you don't have a problem? Do you feel any guilt, AT ALL, for leaving Bucky behind? Did you stop for one second to think about how this might effect him? He risked everything, multiple times for your stupid ass, and when the world was finally safe, at least for a while, you ditched him for a girl you kissed once? I get it, you ‘loved’ her, but she had her own life, her own husband, and everything. You left Bucky with Sam. THEY BARELY GET ALONG! I’m not saying you should have taken him with you, because then I wouldn't have met him. I’m saying that you should have stayed. You could've gotten with Sharon, gotten married and had a few kids with her. Instead, you chose to say ‘fuck it’ and abandon Bucky when he needed you most. And believe me, I know Sharon isn't Peggy, but you liked her as well. It’s called a compromise. Also, don't you think it's pretty shitty that Bucky DIED FOR YOU, came back to life, walked through a goddamned portal, fought aliens with a gun, all without a break, and you didn't have the fucking decency to talk to him, at least once before the fight was over? For the greatest soldier in history, you sure are pretty fucking selfish.” You stated, and walked out the door with your batons in hand without a second look.

“Wow.” Bucky said, looking at Steve. Steve just shook his head and motioned for Bucky to follow you.

“Follow her and help. I gotta find something to fight with,” He said, looking around him. Bucky nodded, and walked out. He raced to catch up with you, and saw the men huddled together in a conference room, probably planning what to do next. He pulled you to the side before you reached the room to talk to you.

He pulled out into a little alcove in between the offices, and pressed his forehead against yours. “Baby,” He breathed out, and looked up at you when you sniffed. “What’s wrong?”

“I couldn't let him sit there and think that what he did was okay. It wasn't. he left you when you needed him most. After he came out of the ice and found out you were still alive, his main goal was to find you, and save you. But when he finally gets the ‘big defeat’ he wanted with Red Skull but didn't, he immediately abandons you for Peggy? Nothing against her, she seems nice I just hate his guts for putting you through all of that and I know you’re gonna say that I shouldn’-,” Bucky cut off your rambling with a kiss. He pulled away and smiled at you.

“He needed to hear it. Now, let’s finish our mission so we can get back to 2024, and finish The Sound of Music because I really wanna know how the Von Trapps escape Austria.” he said, making you smile, your grip on your batons tightening. The door to the conference room opened just as Steve was coming around the corner, a shield slightly smaller than his own in his hand. He pressed back against the same wall you and Bucky were pressed against.

“Looks like they're trying to recreate everything about me,” Steve said, and Bucky chuckled. He glanced down the hallway, and saw it deserted. The 5 men continued down the opposite direction, towards the labs.

“Y/N, corner them. Steve, go around to the opposite hallway and block off the exit there. I’ll do the same with the opposite exit. After that, we should be good, and we can fight them, and hopefully stop them.” Bucky said, and Steve nodded.

“How do you know so much about this building?” You asked, and Bucky blushed.

“The Soldier has more than one mission that involved breaking into Pym Industries,” he said. “Now let’s do this.”

“Didn't think you were one for leading,” Steve said, tightening the shield just before he walked off.

“Yeah well, sometimes you have to step put when it comes to Sam Wilson.” You said, walking off. You pressed your back to the wall before turning the corner, giving Steve and Bucky time to get into position.

Through the reflection on the mirrored ceiling, you saw the men come face to face with Steve, and turn around and head the other way. They passed by you without a glance, only to be faced with Bucky, who had ripped the sleeve off his metal arm. You heard them swear.

“Fuck. He’s The Winter Soldier.” one of them said, and when you glanced up at the ceiling again, you saw Steve charging at them, Bucky following seconds later.

The men realized what was happening, and turned around to escape down the hallway where you were, and you flicked your wrists to turn on the taser function on your batons, and hitting an agent in the head.

He fell to the ground and you kicked him in the face for good measure. You looked up and saw Bucky in a chokehold by an agent with his back to you. You stood up and ran towards him. You planted the batons on either side of the agents neck and watched as his whole body convulsed, releasing Bucky. He turned around and swore. He pulled you off to the side and let Steve keep fighting.

“W-What are you doing?” You asked.

“Theres more rogue agents coming. I need you to bring out The Winter Soldier.” He stated. Your eyes widened.

“Shuri got rid of him.”

Bucky shook his head. “Remember when you went on vacation with your dad, stepmom and the kids and I visited T’Challa?” You nodded. “Well, it wasn't to see the Wakandan kids like I said. I went to Shuri and I asked her to put a version of him back inside. I can take down and kill people, but YOU are the only one who can control me. I won’t hurt you, or Steve, I’ll know who you are, but you need to say my trigger words. I know you know what they are. I fight, you and Steve get to the lab, take the Pym Particles and run,” He said, glancing back at Steve, who was holding his own fairly well against multiple agents.

You nodded. “Fine. But I don't like that you lied to me, and we will be talking about this when we get back.” You stated, and Bucky nodded.

You cleared your throat, and started speaking. “Longing, Rusted, Seventeen, Daybreak, Furnace, Nine, Benign, Homecoming, One, Freight Car,” You said in Russian.

Bucky became very stiff, his eyes shutting. His whole body spasmed, and his eyes opened, brown eyes replacing his steel blue.

“Ready to comply,” He answered, and you gave him his orders.

“Take down anyone who gets in our teams way,” You said, and the Soldier nodded before rejoining Steve to fight, with him, instead of against him.

You ran back to Steve and him and watched as the Soldier took down agent after agent with no difficulty. Steve’s mouth dropped open as he stood and watched. “What did you say to him?” He asked, and you smiled.

“I brought out the Soldier. Now, let’s finish this,” You said, allowing Steve to lead the way.

You two ran down the hall and turned to corner. “I thought Shuri got rid of him,” He said as the two of you continued running.

You glanced behind you before answering. “She took one Soldier out and put a different one in,” You said, and the two of you skidded to a stop when you came face to face with the Pym Particles storage room.

“I know Hank only keeps a certain amount here, but no one but me and him know that at this point in time. Let’s go in, grab them, and destroy them. I’ll take the blame for it but I couldn't give less of a shit,” Steve said, and the two of you burst in the room.

There were only 10 vials of Pym Particles, each of you grabbing 5. You ran out of the room, and back the way you came. You made it to the hallway where the Soldier was still fighting.

“SOLDAT!” You shouted. He stopped and turned to look at you. “Let’s go!”

He nodded and ran towards you. Steve burst through the door, and the three of you ran towards Steve’s car. The three of you hopped in, Bucky and you in the back, Steve in the drivers seat and speeding away.

“D-do you know how to get Bucky back?” You asked Steve. He looked at you.

“Remind him who he is. That’s the only thing that worked for me, but this Winter Soldier programming is different.”

“Wouldn't hurt to try,” You said, and took Bucky’s hand in your own. “Bucky, look at me,” The Soldier turned to you. “You’re James Buchanan Barnes. You were born March 10, 1917. Your best friend is Steve Rogers. Y/N Y/L/N is your girlfriend. Your favourite food is plums. You absolutely despise Sam Wilson,” You said, and watched as he came back to himself slowly. Steve cackled at the last part, before pulling into an abandoned parking lot.

“We gotta destroy these particles,” You said, looking down at them resting in your lap.

“That’s what we’re doing. Take these,” He said, handing you the rest of the particles. “And put them on the ground in front of my car. We’re gonna run them over.” You nodded, took the vials out of his hand and hopping out of the car. You placed them on the ground and got back in.

Bucky groaned, just as Steve accelerated, and ran the vials over, a satisfying crunching noise coming from under the tires. You turned and gave him a smile. He groaned again, and buried his head in your neck. Steve chuckled and turned the car around to head back.

He glanced at the time on his watch. “Theres no point in going back to Lehigh, Peggy’s at home now. Where do you guys want to go to head back?” He asked, and Bucky pointed towards a small clump of trees in a park. Steve nodded, and pulled over.

You walked up to Steve while Bucky got his tired body out of the car. “Thank you for helping us. I’m sorry for what I said.” You admitted, and Steve smiled.

“Don’t be. I needed to hear it. I was incredibly selfish, and I should have stayed with him. But, thank you for helping him.” He said, and you nodded. He gave you a hug, and you walked towards the trees to allow Bucky and Steve to say goodbye. They talked a little, shared a laugh, and hugged. Steve walked over to where you were standing.

“Come back whenever you guys want to. I’d visit you, but that’s not my time anymore. Plus I don't have a suit or a GPS. I’d probably end up in the Sokovia fight again if I tried.” He said, and you and Bucky laughed.

“We will. I know the fairs coming up soon, so maybe we’ll come back then?” Bucky asked and Steve nodded. They shared a smile again, and Steve watched as the two of you tapped your bracelets, the nanotech covered you and programmed your GPS’s. You waved at Steve, and he waved back. Bucky nodded at him, which Steve returned at the two of you locked eyes as you felt that familiar pull behind your navel, and your were thrust into the quantum realm again.

You returned to 2024 seconds later, and glanced around at the untouched compound, and Tony’s desk, which was completely fine. Bucky looked around in confusion.

“What happened? Wasn’t it only a few seconds here? Why is everything fixed?” Bucky asked and you smiled.

“The chronological timeline where we were attacked was erased by us when we destroyed the particles, so the attack never happened.”

Bucky nodded, before scooping you up and carrying you into the living room. ��Good. Now, let’s finish the movie, and maybe have a quickie before Sam gets back.” Bucky said, sitting on the couch, and lifting your shirt over your head.

You laughed, but agreed. “Sounds like a plan.”

#Bucky Barnes #mcu bucky barnes #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #Steve Rogers #Steve rogers is an asshole #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #the white wolf #the winter soldier x reader #The Avengers #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader

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btxtreads · 4 years ago

Text

Breaking Free

CHAPTER EIGHT: THE WAY YOU DO

↳ Pairing: Hueningkai x Reader

↳ word count: 1.5k words

↳ rating: G

↳ genre: is this fluff? idk what genre this is. it’s musical, it’s a musical

↳ Warnings: none

Yeonjun’s fast fingers drift across the piano as if it was second nature. His eyes shifted towards the girl leaning on the piano, singing her heart out with an enthusiastic smile. Abruptly, Yeonjun ended the song and turned to the drama adviser—Professor Kim Seokjin—sitting in the front row. Yeonjun subtly shook his head, followed by an amused snort by the teacher.

“Honey, I have no idea who told you that you were good enough for the lead at the moment.” Professor Kim said, lifting his checklist and scribbling something. “Take some lessons and come back to me in two years. Next.”

Yeonjun rolled back his shoulder as another student stepped towards the stage, preparing for their piece. Dahyun sat in the second row of the theater, relaxed as she waited for her turn to audition with an arrogant smirk. Unbeknownst to everyone in the theater, a mop of blonde hair stood at the back of the theater—barely concealed behind the janitor’s cart.

“You know that mop isn’t enough to hide you right?”

The blonde yelped as he turned with wide eyes, facing an amused Y/N with crossed arms as she leaned her shoulder on the wall. Immediately, Kai relaxed.

“Hey, Y/N.” He mumbled, turning back to the audition with a wince as he heard another NEXT.

“Hey. You come to audition?”

“Just had some time to watch.” Kai shrugged. “Wanted to see Yeonjun-hyung here in his element too.”

“Ah right,” Y/N nodded as she turned back to the stage, flinching slightly at the off-pitch sounds coming from the current performer. “Hey, why don’t we go sit here at the back instead of hiding back here.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s nicer.” Kai agreed as Y/N’s hand grasped his loosely, pulling him over.

Kai tilted as he settled in his seat, watching the auditions intently. He saw Y/N perk up when Yeonjun turned back to the audience with a frown, eyes flying to them at the back. Both teens shot him a small wave, making him lighten up and wave back. Before any of them can do anything else, Dahyun stood up and puffed up her curls.

“Professor Kim, why don’t I audition first and show these amateurs how pros do it?”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes as Professor Kim turned and shot her a deadpan look. The teacher looked back down at his list.

“It appears you’re the last one, do what you want.”

Yeonjun sighed again, shaking his head as Dahyun strutted up to the stage.

“I made my own arrangements, Junie.”

“It’s Yeonjun—we’re not friends.”

The senior was still ignored as the girl went into position—for a song set in a slow tempo, with no choreography. Kai and Y/N exchanged glances before looking back at Yeonjun, who just shrugged back. An upbeat tuned started to blast out of the speakers, and Dahyun launched into a performance.

It’s hard to believe,

that I couldn’t see.

You were always right beside me.

Y/N and Kai blinked at each other once more. Dahyun launched into more upbeat choreography, a fake smile plastered on her face.

Thought I was alone,

with no one to hold.

But you were always right beside me.

Yeonjun clenched his fists in irritation as he moved towards his piano to collect the music sheets.

This feeling’s like no other.

I want you to know.

Professor Kim appeared to not be paying attention, having pulled out his phone and scrolling.

I’ve never had someone that knows me like you do,

the way you do.

I’ve never had someone as good for me as you,

no one like you.

Professor Kim pocketed his phone and surveyed the seats with pursed lips as the song approached it’s end.

So lonely before,

I finally found what I’ve been looking for.

Dahyun stopped her performance, making Professor Kim stand with hands in his pockets.

“Anyone else who’s going to audition?”

Professor Kim’s eyes surveyed the theater—locking with Y/N’s as he rose his eyebrows. He looked back at his phone with pursed lips.

“3, 2, 1.” He sighed in disappointment. “No more auditions.”

“Wait!”

Kai flinched as Y/N shot up next to him, stumbling over towards Professor Kim.

“I want to audition.”

Professor Kim looked over at her with a frown.

“Audition for singles are over.” Professor Kim raised an eyebrow. “You’re late.”

Yeonjun stood at the stage, clutching his music sheets with interest. Dahyun snickered at the front, arms crossed as she stuck her hip out to the side.

“But—“

“I’ll go audition with her.” Kai sighed as he stood from his chair, rubbing the back of his head.

Yeonjun gasped in excitement from the stage as Dahyun gaped in anger.

“Kai!” Dahyun squeaked in anger.

The boy ignored her as he stepped forward to place a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. He shot Yeonjun a small smile before looking back at the Professor.

“We’ll do a couple audition.”

“Mr. Huening, I called for auditions and neither of you answered.” Professor Kim said as he glanced at his phone. “Perhaps the next musical. I have class in thirty minutes and I still need to stop by for coffee.”

Y/N sighed in disdain as Professor Kim breezed past. Kai and Yeonjun smiled apologetically, the latter turning back to collect his things from the piano. Dahyun smirked arrogantly as she spoke up.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” She giggled, waving her fingers. “I’m sure they’re accepting help backstage!”

Kai rolled his eyes as Dahyun stepped backstage towards the exit. He smiled gently at Y/N.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I don’t know what made me try to get an audition anyways.” Y/N shook her head.

Kai furrowed his eyebrows as he and Y/N walked towards the stage to meet Yeonjun, who was still sorting his papers.

“I’m sure if you had the chance to audition, you’d be the star immediately.” Kai said. “I know what you sound like and it’s leagues better than Dahyun.”

“Doubt that. The most I do with music is record demos as samples for my brother when he produces stuff, that’s all.”

Kai chuckled, shaking his head at the girl’s refusal to acknowledge her talent. They reached Yeonjun, making the older boy smile at the two.

“Hey, guys!” He greeted. “Sorry for that earlier, Y/N. Would have loved to hear you sing, I heard you were good.”

“Ah, not that goo—“

“Are you kidding, hyung? She’d crush the stage.” Kai shook his head, smiling over at Y/N—making her blush.

“That good, huh?” Yeonjun raised his eyebrow as he turned back to his piano and shifted through some papers.

He pulled out three sheets—handing two to Kai and Y/N. Yeonjun sat back down on the piano.

“Show me.”

“I—I don’t—“ Y/N blushed furiously. “I don’t think I should—“

“Come on, I don’t really wanna leave without at least hearing you both—especially you, Hueningie.” Yeonjun smiled in encouragement as he shot both a hopeful look.

“Hyung—“

“Come on, Kai.”

The boy sighed, conceding as he looked back down at the paper.

“I’ll do it if Y/N does.”

The girl whipped over to Kai with wide eyes, blinking in shock as she looked back down at the music sheet.

“Fine but just once.” Y/N mumbled under her breath, clearing her throat as she looked back down at the sheet. “Okay.”

Yeonjun smiled in triumph as Kai shot the girl a soft grin, looking down at his own sheet. Yeonjun began to play once more, lithe fingers pressing keys to produce a beautiful harmony.

“Kai, go.”

It’s hard to believe

that I couldn’t see.

You were always there beside me.

Y/N grinned at Kai’s concentrated face. She turned over to him with a soft smile.

Thought I was alone

with no one to hold,

but you were always right beside me.

Kai turned his head, a smile on his lips as he met Y/N’s gaze. They looked at each other softly, making the elder in the room raise his eyebrow in curious amusement.

This feeling’s like no other.

I want you to know.

Kai reached out and grasped her hand as he sang, a rare smile on his face. Yeonjun kept playing, head turning back to the entrance to see someone walk back in.

That I’ve never found someone

that knows me like you do

the way you do.

Yeonjun smiled to himself as he turned back to the piano, his peripheral vision following a tall figure walk inside the theater with a sharp gaze.

And I’ve never found someone

as good for me as you,

no one like you.

So lonely before,

I finally found what I’ve been looking for.

Yeonjun played the final notes, a smile on his face as he turned to the two.

“That was good.” He said, turning over to the figure in the audience. “What did you think, Yoongi-hyung?”

Kai and Y/N turned to the audience in shock, seeing Professor Kim nod with an impressed smile.

“I expect to see you both in the callbacks.” Professor Kim said, picking up his forgotten bag at the front row. “Yeonjun, help them practice. I’m sure they’ll need all the help they can get.”

“Roger.” Yeonjun saluted as Professor Kim turned back around to leave.

Y/N and Kai exchanged alarmed glances.

Some things never turn out the way you plan them to.

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pocketfulofrogers · 4 years ago

Text

Love Me Anyways

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: What is there to say? You’re a dark and twisty assassin and Steve Rogers is definitely... not that. When you get an opportunity to run, will you take it?

Notes: Tiny bit of smut and angst with a happy ending. If you feel like you’ve seen/read this before, you may have. I’m reorganizing and this was previously part 1 of Haunted Woman, Broken Lover. When I originally wrote this, it was meant to be a one off, but sad endings don’t always feel right. I then struggled to turn it into a series, so here is HWBL reimagined with a different ending as a one shot. The series will still be a thing, but now I actually feel good about it!

They call you a ghost. It isn’t for the way you seem to slip through walls or the way you look at death as a reflection. It’s the hollowness of your eyes that earns you the nickname. Hazed over orbs coated in grey.

Clint asks you if they’ve always been that color, you tell him you can’t remember anymore.

Fury lets you run your own thing after you agree to attach yourself to the badge. He’d rather not know how exactly you get the job done, so long as you’re on their side.

You’re solo most of the time, it’s better that way.

They learn quickly how deadly you are, leaving your enemies questioning the validity of your existence and holding the same vacant stare as you. It wasn’t just physical injuries you specialized in.

The first time you met Steve Rogers was an accident. You had a rogue Armenian scientist tied up in his basement. He had been about to run when you appeared at his kitchen table, and, for a moment, you thought a heart attack might get him before you could.

You were sat before him, leaned forward with your tools on a bench beside you. A small blade aching to break skin sat hot between your fingers, but so far, your words had been enough. Steve opened the door, barreled down the steps, and stopped in his tracks. You locked eyes with him and, in a flash, you saw something hauntingly familiar within the blue.

That’s when something inside you shifted.

He took one look at the scene before him and shut it down immediately. You slipped away when he called it in and left no trace of your existence except for a long thin line gushing red from the scientist’s throat.

Steve find’s the plans for a chemical attack on his desk that night and where to find each accomplice wrapped in a pretty bow of nylon. Alive, your note assures him.

“She’s like a cat. Brings home dead things to show her affection.” Clint says one day. You promptly shove an elbow in his gut.

He learns how to spot your work past blubbering grown men and catatonic stares. Natasha tells him you hold your liquor well, Clint comments on your gambling abilities. He asks if your eyes are naturally that color, they tell him you don’t like to answer that question.

Later he asks Fury how they found you. He’s not sure how you became what you are today, but he knows this world has not treated you well, yet here you are, working to protect it regardless of what had been done to you. That’s the only reason he didn’t order Clint to take you out.

“So, she’s good?” Steve asks.

Fury pauses for a moment. “For our sake, I hope so.”

The next time you see Steve Rogers, you’re slinking through the Triskelion halls trying to stick your nose somewhere it probably doesn’t belong. He bumps into you, grabs your arm and your side to steady you. You know he can feel the scars beneath the thin material of your shirt and jump from his touch.

He shakes it off. “Tell me,” He starts. “Do you have an actual name or are you really just a ghost.”

You think for a moment. “Y/N.” He raises a brow, both your voice and an answer surprising him. “What, were you expecting a cryptic answer on the relativity of life and death or something?”

He chuckles. “Guess not.”

A moment later, he gets distracted, turns a way for a split second and then you’re gone.

“Yeah, she does that.” An agent passing by comments.

You continue on your path, leave him the gift of a solved problem on his desk sometimes. He sets up cameras and lasers, trying to catch you just once. It takes him a few months to realize the janitor drops the files and notes for him. You and Natasha laugh at his expense.

He starts to leave files in various places he knows only you could find. The worst of the worst. Men and women he thinks you’d be happy to cross off. You can’t tell if he leaves them for you, or because they’re just terrible people. Either way, the change in narrative surprises you, but you never bring it up. You’re the last person that would ever judge someone.

Natasha taunts him over it.

“It’s a modern-day love story with an assassin twist.”

“Why not that one?” “She doesn’t like Oklahoma.” “How do you know that?”

“She sent booze as thanks for your last tip. Are your cheeks seriously red right now, Rogers?”

Eventually, you concede and stop leaving him only the locations of gift-wrapped bodies with detailed lists of committed crimes. Complete with proof, of course, you weren’t lazy. You start to send him alive leads, people that can be questioned. Sometimes they’re unharmed, usually they’re mostly coherent. He’s surprised by the change in narrative, but he never brings it up. Sometimes people change, but that was none of his business.

Natasha is sure to point it out, though, consistently.

“You see him more than anyone else.” “That’s not true!” “…” “He’s here more than you, so it’s only by default.”

“Wait, you left that guy alive?” “Steve needs to question him.” “What about that one guy I needed answers from?” “You didn’t say please.”

“I’ve known you longer.” “He leaves me sex traffickers.”

When a body comes up dead that shouldn’t have, your signatures blatantly displayed, they send him to bring you in. He doesn’t believe for a second you could kill a kid, but he’s the only one who can get close enough. Fury’s only half sure you won’t kill him.

You battle with the idea of running, knowing they’ll never find you if you don’t want them to. You saw the evidence; you knew you were screwed. Fury told you from the very beginning that if he ever sensed you had turned, he’d take you out. No warning, no questions. Still, you wait patiently in your living room.

The window by the fire escape opens and Steve slides through, tip toes his way in and around the corner only to find you sitting there, an amused smirk tugging your lips.

“What calf exercises do you do? They look fantastic.”

He rolls his eyes and catches site of the artwork around him, the soft whites and greys of your walls and furniture giving spotlight to their colors. He never even considered you could have a home. You follow his gaze and shrug. Assassins can have taste too.

“The diplomat’s son, did you kill him?” He asks. You watch him silently. “Fury thinks you did.”

You walk slowly towards him, watch him curiously and tilt your head. “And if I did?” You prompt.

“I have orders to bring you in.”

You’re a breath away now, gliding your fingers along the Kevlar of his arm and trailing your way to his jaw. You trace his collar with a fingertip, watch as the pulse of his jugular quickens. You look up at him and he swallows thickly.

“And if I don’t want to?” You graze tentative fingers along the edge of his jawline. “Tell me, Captain, would you kill me?”

He hopes the eagerness in your voice is misplaced, the envy misinterpreted. Or perhaps the girl who surrounds herself with death does it with the idea that it may one day take her.

You don’t give him the opportunity to dive into that rabbit hole.

When you place your lips on his, soft and remnant of something sweet, he can only taste the brilliance of life. He wraps himself around you, slips in his tongue when you’re startled by his sudden switch. You thought you’d leave him shaken enough to slip away, disappear with the rising sun.

But now? Now you’re just as hungry for him.

He carries you, lays you across your bed. He runs the pad of his thumb along every scar left behind by a blade, places a kiss on each one from a bullet. You knot you fingers in his hair as he drags his tongue up the inside of your thigh, scream his name when he brings you higher than you’ve ever been before.

When he slides into you and stretches you deliciously so, you allow yourself to feel just this once. He catches the shift in your eyes, convinces himself his mind is playing tricks on him when the grey haze appears to fade.

He moves slow before he finds his pace. You dig fingernails into his back and trail them down hard enough to make him hiss. He nips you from shoulder to jaw, hips rocking into you, and you swear nothing has ever felt this good.

You lay there in silence, sweat coated limbs still entangled. He sighs heavily and you just know he’s about to ruin the moment.

“Stay.” You whisper. He looks down at you wrapped around him. “I’ll go with you in the morning, just stay tonight.”

He tightens his grip on your bicep and nods. “Ok.”

You’re still awake when dawn breaks, you had gotten lost in the simple rhythm of his heartbeat. A dream that one day life could be even just an imitation of normal. The thought makes you sad more than anything else.

You slip from his arms, grab a bag, and pack the essentials. Watching him sleep, he seems so peaceful, so good. You ache to wake him and stick around long enough to fix this mess. He deserves that.

Could you do it? Forget your past and pretend to be anything other than the hollow shell those before carved you into?

Ah, but this was your MO. Slip away in the dark when things took a turn either way. ‘Flight risk’ has always been written on the back of your eyelids. You weren’t quite sure why you felt you owed Steve more, but you did.

He awakes to a bright sun and a cold spot beside him. There’s a torn piece of paper where your head should’ve been. He brushes his thumb over his name and opens it. It states your innocence and exactly who he should be looking for, where to find them. At the bottom is a separate line.

‘Careful, Captain, or I just might be your future.’

Three years later.

You grab the tiny umbrella in your drink to twirl the ice around again. Undoubtedly a nervous habit you picked up in response to the very crowded beach bar you’re currently sitting at.

It was an alert you received in the middle of the night notifying you of your cleared name a year ago. You can’t be sure how whoever it was reached you, but the screenname ‘Tiny Dancer’ gave you a few ideas.

In that moment, reading those last two words you’re free, something changed. Perhaps it was months of being on the run from people who you allowed to know you well enough to track you that left you felling so drained.

Of course, you thought about the beautiful man you left behind first, knowing that there was no one in this world who would fight harder for your freedom. You wanted to go find him, you really did, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you felt different this time. Like maybe this was your chance to start over. A chance to live a life that had been stolen from you so long ago.

The bartender, a lovely middle aged man who strictly wore floral button ups, watches you down the rest of your drink and is quick with the refill. You try to thank him, but he waves you off.

“Anything for my favorite customer.”

You push your bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. “Are we not friends by now?”

He barks out a laugh and leans forward against the bar in front of you. “Friends get invited to drink with me, which you do almost everyday. Family gets invited to the cookout. Which is Sunday, by the way. Show up early and bring an appetite.” He shoots you a playful wink before pushing off to help another customer.

You lean your head back slightly to feel the warmth of the sun and tune into the sound of the crashing waves. It’s the lightest you think you may have ever felt with the sand sticking to your bare legs and salt water in your hair.

Nothing could interrupt this perfectly blissful moment.

Well, almost nothing.

“Sand looks good on you.” A deep voice says beside you and you smile, face still tilted towards the sun.

“Took you longer than I thought.” You turn to Steve still smiling. “How long can you stay?”

He moves his sunglasses from his eyes to the top of his head and looks around for a moment taking in the view. When he turns back to you, the smile that breaks across his face almost stops your heart.

“As long as you’ll let me.”

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #mcu #marvel #avengers

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theycallmebecca · 4 years ago

Note

For old fashioned DDs: “do you think they could hear us?” ‘yes we can.’

This one stumped me for a good while... but I finally figured out something short and sweet for it. So this one is for @the-ce-horniest-book-club and @the-marvel-horniest-book-club

Title: Rogering

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: suggestive, language

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

"Alright, I think the coast is clear," Steve whispers to you. He opens the janitor's closet door wider and slips out, with you following immediately after. "See I told you, it would -"

His voice dies out as the two of you round the corner and see a bunch of people in the conference room on the other side of the wall.

"Do you think they could hear us?" you whisper to Steve.

"Yes we can," a voice says from nowhere. "Next time you two decide to have sex in a supply room, take off your fucking coms so they don't accidentally get turned in the middle of your rogering."

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avengerscompound · 5 years ago

Text

Running to a Standstill - 5

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1939

Rating: E

Square filled: none for this chapter

Warnings: none

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers. While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 5

It had been a long time since Steve had had to share his space. Even in the army, he’d ended up with his own quarters after he’d agreed to go on the USO tour. Now there were bras hanging on a rack in the bathroom to dry. Toys all over his floor and his fridge was full of things like go-gurt and applesauce that came in satchels. It was a lot to get used to, but he was enjoying it. He liked the noise and the chaos at Geo’s bedtime. He liked coming home and you being there whether it be just be watching some tv, or cooking dinner, or giving Geo a bath. He even liked it when you weren’t there and there were just signs you would be back again. The dishes in the sink or Geo’s Lego spread out on the coffee table.

After the incident at your apartment, you had agreed to stay with Steve at the tower. The fact the people after you were willing to commit suicide over anyone finding out where they were from meant this was bigger than just you or Geo. You had agreed - rather reluctantly at first - to stay with him until they could get to the bottom of it.

His apartment was only two bedrooms and given that you had only been dating for a little while, you’d been sharing a bedroom with Geo. He hadn’t wanted to pressure you into becoming more intimate than you were ready for and if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t sure he was ready for it either. Partly because of the high stress of the situation, he worried that any feelings the two of you shared might be too heightened, and partially because he always needed to be sure. He’d taken two years to get to a first kiss with Peggy. He was slow to act.

He did like you though and he liked having you around. He was aware that he overthought everything, but he was also becoming very aware of something else. He liked being needed. Right now you needed him and he didn’t want that to go away.

Unfortunately, trying to find the people who had done this to you was proving harder than it seemed. IGH was a shell company covering the tracks of a medical research group looking into replicating the super serum. They seemed to have gone defunct years ago after some success though the levels of cover-ups of whoever was the result of that success were the kind only an incredible amount of money could buy. Steve had put Tony on trying to unravel the threads and he’d eventually come back with the name of a private investigator and an address of her office.

As he rode the elevator up in the Hell’s Kitchen apartment building a thick dread filled him over the fact that the serum had worked so well on him and people were going to keep trying to replicate that again and again until someone worked it out or he died.

The elevator stopped and he and Bucky stepped out. “You think she might run?”

Steve shook his head. “From what I gather she’s one of the good ones. Abrasive, but she’s been linked to the taking out of several criminals.”

Bucky nodded and the two walked to the end of the hall. The door for Alias Investigations had seen better days. It had several chunks out of it and in the space glass would normally be sitting, a large piece of cardboard was taped into place. Steve rapped his knuckles on one of the undamaged parts of the door and it rattled in place.

There was a shuffling on the other side of the door and it creaked open just a little. The pale face of Jessica Jones poked around the corner, her jet black hair framing her face.

“Oh hell no,” she said and tried to shove the door closed.

Steve caught it and for a moment he thought she was still going to manage to shut the door on him. They were definitely on the right track. “Ms. Jones, we just have some questions.”

“No. Fuck, no. I’m not getting involved in any of your goody-two-shoes, Avengers bullshit,” she said, giving up on holding him back and striding back into her office. “I have enough of my own shit to deal with than to worry about fucking Aliens and out of control robots.”

“Ms. Jones,” Steve said, as she went and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels from her desk, unscrewed the cap, and started drinking straight from it. “We just want to ask some questions. It’s about an organization known as Industrial Garments and Handling. We believe you might know about them.”

She lowered the bottle and narrowed her eyes and collapsed down into the chair behind the desk. “You’re too late. There is no IGH. I shut them down. Everyone involved with it is dead.”

“You know them then?” Steve asked, taking a seat. Bucky stayed standing by the door like he was expecting Jones to try to run.

“I know them. They did this to me,” she said and clenched her fist on the bottle. It shattered, spraying glass and alcohol everywhere. “And I made them pay for it.”

“Did you sign up for experimentation?” Steve asked, and quickly held up his hands. “No judgment. I signed up to be a lab rat too.”

Jones shook her head. “No. I was in a car accident and they took me. What’s this about?”

“They were involved in human experimentation several years back. We believe they were trying to make some kind of combat enhancers,” Steve said.

Jones scoffed and spun around on her chair, and began rifling through a filing cabinet. “You have so many resources at your hands and that’s where you are? You’re a little behind. They were, the army had them and were using them on soldiers. There’s one still alive. His name is in here -” she spun back around and tossed a stack of files on the desk. “As for IGH there’s a nurse and a janitor still alive and they’re in prison. The rest is gone. You’re chasing a dead lead. You can relax and take a break.”

“I’m afraid we can’t. We have one of their test subjects in custody. They’ve been trying to take her in,” Steve said. “I’ve found with places like this, you think you get the root of the evil and you’ve just been pruning back some leaves.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed derisively. “Nice analogy, Cap,” she said. “I’m sorry about your friend, but they tried to destroy their own work, including me. I know they’re gone because no one has tried to kill me in months now. Whoever is trying to get to them, it’s not IGH.”

Steve sighed. She seemed so certain, but someone had been trying to take you and Geo, and this company was involved somehow. “Everything you have is in here?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, take it,” Jones said. “Now get out. I have work to do.”

Steve stood and nodded. “Thank you for your help. I’ll call you if I have any questions.”

“Yeah, you do that,” Jones said. “I have friends who’ll get a kick out of the voice message I have from Captain America.”

As they went back into the hall, Bucky laughed softly. “She was charming.”

Steve bit back his own laughter. “Well, I guess you don’t have to be pleasant to do good.”

“You can say that again,” Bucky said, jabbing the button to call the elevator. “You think this is a dead-end?”

Steve flicked through the folders as he got onto the elevator. “They obviously didn’t go away completely. Whatever remnants existed might have been absorbed by something else, and going off how hard it was for me to keep that door open, I’d say they might have gotten closer than most at replicating what was done to us. I’m guessing that something has taken what they can and is after Geo to fill in the blanks. This is a start.”

The elevator stopped and Steve and Bucky began to make the walk back to the tower. It was only seven blocks and even with the fact they were going to get stopped several times on the way, it was still easier to walk it than try and find a parking spot in Hell’s Kitchen.

“I should grab something for dinner on the way home,” Steve mused as he shoved the folders into his jacket and zipped it up. But he and Bucky pulled on their ball caps and put on sunglasses. Bucky shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket to hide the telltale glint of metal.

“What? You sick of home-cooked meals already?” Bucky teased.

Steve chuckled and nudged Bucky in the familiar way that always came so naturally to him, his shoulder bumping into his friend’s and pushing him slightly off course. “Hardly,” he replied. “I just worry about her thinking she owes me. I’m really up in my head about it. It’s hard dating someone who’s living with you and who is that reliant on you. The line between normal boyfriend and girlfriend things and a person in a vulnerable position thinking that they need to comply with a request so they feel safe is blurred.”

Bucky’s lips twitched and he shook his head. “Steve, I love you, pal,” he said. “But do you overthink or what?”

Steve shrugged and let out a breath. “I’ve never been good with this kind of thing, Buck. You know that.”

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Bucky agreed. “And it’s sweet how you worry about things like that. It’s the reason why it took us so long to hug when you finally tracked me down though, you know?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I know. What do you think I should do? I want to move forward with her. I’d even be happy if she started sleeping in my bed, but all we’ve done is some quick pecks on the lips when I’ve gotten home and cuddling on the couch. And I don’t even know if I can count the cuddling on the couch because she cuddles with you too. You’ve always been better with women than I have. What would you do?”

There was a heavy silence in the air while Bucky seemed to think it over. When he finally spoke his voice sounded slightly tight and Steve wondered if he’d pushed him too far into thinking about how he used to be. “Take her out again. On an actual date. I’ll watch Geo if she’s okay with it, or I’m sure Clint and Nat will come around if she still doesn’t trust me. Talk about it with her. Then kiss her for fuck’s suck. Properly.”

Steve nodded, still not quite sure how to actually talk about it. A date would be good though, the domestic thing made it hard to do anything romantic anyway. “You wanna have dinner with us?”

Bucky nodded. “Sure. What are we having?”

“Burgers seem safe don’t you think?” Steve said. “Geo would probably eat a cheeseburger.”

There was another small nod from Bucky and Steve pulled out his phone, texting you for any special requests and to make sure you didn’t start cooking. He hoped he could move things forward with you a little, but it wouldn’t be the first time he ended up having unrequited feelings for someone. Either way, it was nice he could have you both in his life sharing dinner.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #running to a standstill

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littlebitoffanfic · 6 years ago

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Never -part 4 - Home

Fandom: Little Nightmares Characters: Roger, Dee, Dom, The lady, the ferryman Relationship: Roger/reader Request: Part 1: http://littlebitoffanfic.tumblr.com/post/182536245099/never Part 2: http://littlebitoffanfic.tumblr.com/post/183993478784/never-part-2 Part 3: https://littlebitoffanfic.tumblr.com/post/184349594529/never-part-3 Your time with the Ferryman was a welcomed break. His days were mostly spent navigating the sea and occasionally docking to place posters of the Maws next location. It was due to rise again in about 4 months, so people were starting to look out for the next place. It felt nice if somewhat sickly. You were used to the Maws movement in the sea, but the boat was a little more prominent. You felt sick the first few days, but you weren’t entirely sure that was just from the boat. You worried. The whole trip you worried about what was happening back at the Maw. You wished you had some means to communicate with the twins and make sure everything was okay. The first night, you dreamt that Roger and the Lady had fought badly and were wounded. You woke up in a sweat, Rogers voice whispering in your ear about pain. You were thankful that the boat had two compartments below deck with beds, so you didn’t have to share a room with him. Especially when you woke up in tears. But you did enjoy your time away. The sea air was nice, and the time of year meant the sun was out a lot. The moment you stepped on land, you wanted to be back on the boat. You helped the ferryman hang posters and then get some items that the twins had asked for but then you were back on the ship. You started feeling badly homesick, like the maw was crying out for you to come home. The ferry man noticed your change and must have felt it too. The Ferryman had mentioned a few days before that today that he was heading back to the Maw. You were nervous. You had had nightmares that the second you stepped into the Maw again, the lady was angry with you. you thought of the Maw being angry with you and refusing to allow you to stay. Worse was Roger. The dreams where he told you he wished you never came back were the worse. But you were sure they were bad because he had told you to leave. Today was the day, and the ferryman was getting annoyed with your constant pacing and staring into the horizon. “Sit down before you fall overboard.” He snapped at you for the hundredth time, but you shook your head and continued with your pacing. It wasn’t till the sun was nearly setting that you saw the all too familiar island which hid the entrance to the Maw. Your mind wondered to the massive machine beneath the waves. If it didn’t want you back, it could easily stop the boat from even touching the Maw. But it didn’t. The ferryman docked as normal, having to jump off himself and quickly tie to the boat up since you weren’t on land ot catch it. Picking up the bundle meant for the chiefs and your bag, you jumped off the boat onto island, your knees nearly giving in but thankfully didn’t. you stood up, a feeling of relief washing over you as you finally returned home. “You need a hand down?” Ferryman asked you, glancing at the door which lead down into the Maw. “No, you’ve done more than enough. Thank you.” You smile, hugging the bundle against your chest. “Don’t mention it. The company was nice. if you ever need some time-“ He nods to the boat and you laugh. “I’ll call on you.” you finish his sentence with a chuckle as he climbed back onto the boat. You undid the knot used to secure the ship before throwing it back to the ferryman. you stood on the shore as the boat disappeared into the now night-time. And you stayed there a little long until it was pitch black and now cold out. You were worried about what awaited you down in the Maw. But something soothed your worries and fears, like a friend wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Whatever you had to face, you would need to face it soon. There was no point sitting there dreaming up horror stories. You walked to the door, reaching out and pausing. “I know I left. But you called me back and I came. I will always return to my home.” You spoke in a soft voice to the Maw, hoping it would be able to see you hadn’t been malicious or selfish in your desires. it took you a moment to open the door, gripping the handle so hard that your knuckles turned white. But when you did, there was a soft groan that echoed through the Maw, like it was relieved. Stepping in, you descended the stairs with caution. You saw a few Nomes look up from their perches on the table. Had they really waited for you to return? When they saw you, they quickly jumped down and ran to the bottom of the stairs, waiting for you like little balls of energy ready to explode. once you stepped off the last step, they jumped and ran at your feet, hugging your ankles in comical way which made you laugh. Tears filled your eyes as you finally reunited with the innocent little creatures that never had malicious intend and only wanted a crust of bread. “I’ll make sure you get as much food as you can carry.” You leaned down, whispering to them as you patted a few of their heads. “So, who should I go see first?” You ask them, and one tilted its head in thought. It then held its arms out either side of its body and started to waddle slowly. Instantly, you burst into laughter as you realised it was mimicking the chiefs. “Okay, the twins it is.” They parted so you could walk through the empty guest area. It was a good idea to see the twins first, since if the lady’s get angry and kills you, someone will know you returned other than the mute Nomes. calling on the lift with the press of the button, it immediately opened, and you stepped inside. you were about to press the button to head down the kitchen when you remembered your bag. Probably best to leave it here in case you needed to make a quick getaway. Stepping out, you placed the bag at the side of the doors and retreated back in. the Nomes didn’t follow you, but you smiled and waved at them as the door shut and the lift descended into the Maw. When the doors opened, you were not surprised to hear the bickering of the twins from the dishwashing room. They were arguing so loud that they didn’t even hear the lift. “I know, we both miss her. But its no excuse for not doing your job.” Dee snapped at Dom who you could hear was just as frustrated. “Well, whens she coming back?” Dom asked, sounding like a child that was waiting on its toy being returned. You noticed a forgot pile of dishes at the side, and picked them up, balancing the bundle under your arm. “I already told you. I. don’t. know!” Dee half roared across the room as you walked in, a smirk playing on your face. “Besides, its not like she even said she’d be back.” You sauntered in, placing the dishes in the sink and bundle on the side as the two men froze and stared at you. Dom was the first to break, rushing forward and engulfing you in a hug. You smiled, closing your eyes and trying your best to return the hug. You felt a hand patting your head and looked up to see Dee smiling down at you. “Gave us a right fright.” He tells you, and you were sure he wasn’t just speaking about right now. “I know. Im sorry. Wont happen again.” You mumble, fresh tears running down your cheeks as Dom stepped back with the largest grin on his face. “ill put the kettle on.” Dee rolls his eyes a little, and the two of you head to the kitchen. ---------time skip ------------- “you know you have to go see him?” Dee askes you, sitting back in his chair as the cups sat empty on the table. “I know.” You nod, your eyes glancing to the hallway which would lead further down into the Maw. “They both miss you.” Dom suddenly says, making both you look at him. “The lady doesn’t come out much. Neither does Roger. Doesn’t come up to see us anymore.” The moments that followed were ones of silence that no one seemed to know how to break. Eventually, you took a deep breath. “Who should I see first?” you ask Dee. “Last time you saw Roger first didn’t go so well. So maybe this time…” He trails off, looking to the ceiling as if she might be listening. “You’re right. She probably knows im here.” You nod, standing from the table. Dee and Dom didn’t stand, instead staring after you as you left. They were nervous, as were you. you called the lift and it whisked you upstairs in less time than you would have liked, opening with a ding into the lady’s quarters. immediately, your eyes widened. The halls were dark and dusty. The place looked a mess, unkept and neglected for a while now. It was haunting because not even her soft voice was floating through the place. She always sung, always humming some kind of tune. It made the halls of her quarters feel like a parent’s home with a familiar sound like a radio being on or a record player. You liked it. But now it looked and felt neglected and empty. Stepping out of the lift, you looked up and saw no lights on. In fact, you doubted she was even here. “Hello?” You called out, walking to the bottom of the stairs and looking up. Silence followed as you climbed the stairs. Looking back to the lift, you wondered if maybe she wasn’t here until something drew your attention to the top of the stairs. When you looked, you froze. There, stood the Lady. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, strands framing the mask which looked slightly dirty. Her robes hung off her, almost like they didn’t fit her properly anymore. “[y/n]?” Her voice cracked as she stared down at you. You didn’t know what to expect. You couldn’t see her eyes so you couldn’t read her and her body stayed stiff and ridged. She looked like a statue. There was a whoosh and she moved quickly down the stairs. So quick, you didn’t have a chance to flinch or react. But instantly you thought she was angry with you. until her long, slender arms wrapped around you, pulling you against her chest and cradling you like a mother would her child. “You came home.” She breathed, her voice soft and a whisper. You looked up and saw tears running from under her mask. Her hands shook as one stroked your hair affectionately. You wrapped your arms around her waist as she held you. “The maws missed you. Ive missed you.” The lady pulled back, regaining her composure as she pushes a strand of hair out of your eyes. “Ive missed you all.” You nod, closing your eyes under her touch that reminded you of family. “Perhaps.” She takes a deep breath, as if she was fighting some inner demon. “You should let our janitor know of your return.” you stare up at her with your mouth open, processing how the 10-word sentence actually meant so much more. You quickly shut your mouth and smile at her, nodding. The lady retreats back up the stairs, ringing her hands a little and looking away from you. When she faces you again, you smile with tears brimming your eyes. She take a moment before standing straight, her movement becoming much more elegant and graceful again as she returns to her room. You start to descend the stairs and then something stops you. A voice. Soft and beautiful singing a lullaby. You look up to her room. The lady was singing again. You took a moment to listen to the song, enjoying her voice before you remembered your next task, your next mission. Walking to the elevator, you smiled as the door closed and you were taken to the bottom of the Maw, where the final resident you wanted to see was. But when the elevator arrived, it made no joyful ‘ding’. It didn’t make a noise. The only reason you knew you were here was by the indicator of which floor you were on. the doors opened and you stepped out, your attention searching for Roger. The light from the doll room drew your attention and you carefully made your way towards it. You knew the area well, and had memorised the floor boards that squeaked when you would try sneak up on Roger playfully. Opening the door, you saw the doll he had been making of you was sitting on his work bench, fully complete. But no Roger. Stepping inside, you walked over and picked up the doll. He had made a small version of your favourite dress, matched the colour of your eyes perfectly and let your hair fall naturally. The little doll was the spiting image of you. you looked up, seeing some of the Nomes sitting atop the shelf. They liked the little toys Roger made, even if they only got to play with them when he wasn’t around. taking the toy, you held it up to the Nomes. Two of them grabbed the doll by the arms and hauled it up, dancing around joyfully before disappearing with it into a hole in the wall. You smiled, but were quickly alerted when a floor board squeaked from outside. Stepping to the right side of the door, you were quick enough as Roger came into the room. He moved past you, not even noticing another’s presence in the room as he moved to his work bench. you were surprised he would have been here at this time. normally, he would work on the Maws inner structure now. But judging by the way the Maw had been groaning, the Lady and Chiefs weren’t the only ones neglecting their duties in your absence. His hand felt around the desk for the doll, but he let out a soft growl when he couldn’t find it. Roger instantly reached up to the shelf the Nomes had been on, seeming to know that they would have taken the doll. “Damn Nomes.” He groaned softly, his hand retreating back to his body. He reached into his inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a piece of paper. You leaned to the side, almost letting out a gasp when you saw it was the portrait of you. He had been carrying it around with him? This whole time? Roger held the photo below his face, using his free hand to push the drooped flesh back for a just a moment to look at the photo before he let out a painful groan and stopped. He returned the photo to his jacket pocket. “why’d they take it?” He asked himself in a low voice, his fingers drumming on the floor as he returned to his natural position. “I thought you might prefer the real thing.” You spoke up from your corner, your voice soft and barley more than a whisper. Tears cascaded down your cheek as you tried to hid the fact you were crying. Roger seemed to stop breathing, his finger not drumming on the floor anymore as his head snapped in your direction. “You, you came back?” He let out a small breath, as if he were scared of the answer. “No.” You shake your head, walking up to him, stopping once you were right in front of him and between his arms. “I came home.” A shaking hand reached up, cupping your cheek as if to make sure you were real. His long fingers caressed your cheek as his thumb swiped across and removed the tears. “Im sorry.” Roger voice broke as he bent his head forward, as if bowing to you. “For before. I didn’t… I didn’t want you to…” He struggled to articulate as he shook his head, taking small gasps for air. “I only wanted you to be safe. Happy.” He glanced his face up to you then dropped it back down out of either embarrassment or hurt. “I was both of those things when I was with you.” You answer him in a soft voice, reaching your hand up to cup his own hand which stayed against your cheek. “But the lady. She-“ He cut himself off, a shiver running down his spin as the thought of the last time he had seen the lady. That night when she had thrown you against the wall and demanded the servants leave you. “She wont hurt me. Not now.” You assure him. In truth, you weren’t 100% sure of this. But from the way the Maw had reacted, how she had reacted, upon your return, you were sure she wouldn’t risk losing you again. Not permanently at least. “please.” He breathed, his voice a whisper with fear. “Don’t be afraid of me.” He begged you. every movement he made was one of submission as his whole body ached. His head bowed, his face turned down and lower than your own, his shoulder hunched and his hand only keeping it place on your cheek under your own fingers. “Never.” You breathe, stepping closer and closing the gap between you. Ducking your head under his own, you pressed your lips to his and bought his head up as your free hand cupped his own cheek. A soft, fragile kiss but with a much deeper meaning. You let go of his hand on your cheek so you would wrap your arms around his shoulder. His hand slips away from your cheek in favour of wrapping both his arms right around your smaller form as he moves his lips against your own. In a moment, the kiss turns from soft and light to needy and desperate. He pulled you tight against his body which tensed under your soft touch. You returned his passion tenfold until you needed to breath. Pulling back, you gasped for air. You buried your face against his neck, wanting him to remain close. Roger placed a soft kiss to the top of your head then nuzzled his cheek against your hair, inhaling the sweet scent he had long missed. He was only bought out of the moment by your soft sobs, realising you were crying on his shoulder. Roger gently rubbed your back, unsure of how to comfort you. after all this time, after all he had done and all you had been through, he was unsure of what you would need from him. “[y/n]?” He asks, unsure of himself but you shake your head a little. “Please, just give me this moment.” You ask him, your grip on him tightening for just a moment. He felt your tears wet his jacket and top he wore. The wetness was like fire as it touched his skin. “Will you stay with me? After everything that happened. What I did. Would you want to stay?” Roger asks, rambling a little as he tried to figure out what he was trying to say. You pulled back from him, unhooking one arm from around his neck so you could wipe your tears on your sleeve. “Would you want me to stay?” You return the question, hiccupping a little. “More than anything.” He breaths with a single nod. Despite your tears, you smiled. “Then I’ll stay. As long as you want me, im here.” You tell him. A soft smile dawns his face as he nods. one of your hands cups his cheek as you nuzzle against him for a moment. “You’re cold.” Roger suddenly says, his hand coming up to cup your own and pull it away from his cheek to inspect your hand. “It’s a little colder here.” You shrug, not thinking too much of it. You were used to the warm sun so it might take sometimes to get used to the Maw again. “That wont do.” He mumbles, more to himself as he shakes his head. His arm unwraps from around you and he leads you out of the room with your hand still in his own. It took you a moment to realise where he was taking you. back to his quarters. Roger opened the door and you stepped inside. the living room was a lot warmer than he normally kept it. But perhaps it had something to do with the last time he had been with you here. You didn’t want to let go of him, so he guided you to the couch and you sat down. Only then did you let go of his hand so he could search for the blanket on the single chair. Once he found it, he started to bring it back to you. In a strange moment of almost deja vu, he reached out and turned on the TV. He bought the blanket to you. you took him by the hand, guiding him to sit beside you as you moved the blanket over both sets of legs. His arms instinctively wrapped around you as he leaned back. You cuddled against his side, resting your head on his chest as you focused on his heart beat. The events of the day had certainly taken its toll on you. this mixed with the lack of sleep you had been getting made it very hard to stay awake and you eventually drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Roger, on the other hand, was still awake. He focused every sense he had on you. The feeling of your body pressed against his own, the warmth of your skin, your sweet smell, the sound of your breathing and the taste of your lip which were still fresh on his own. Roger brought one of his hands up to his face, pushing the skin up so he could look down at you. Curled up against his side, your face a picture of beauty that no portrait could ever fully capture. A single tear ran down Rogers cheek as he allowed the skin to take his vision again. Only this time, it wasn’t plunging him into darkness. It allowed him to focus on you more. You would always guide him through the darkness. especially now you were home.

#little nightmares #roger the janitor #roger x reader #roger the janitor x reader #The Janitor #the janitor x reader

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