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itstheimpossibledream · 4 years ago

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Homecoming

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Word Count:1990

Warnings: Smut,DaddyDom!Henry, Oral (female reciving)

Summary: Henry takes you to his hometown but, you become slightly jealous of the attention he recieves. Please do not repost my fics without my permission but, we always love a reblog ! Inbox& Requests always open!

You stepped into the hotel room, immediately taking off your jacket and throwing your purse to the floor.

"What the fuck Henry?" you asked as you whirled around to face him. The beach day date of his hometown was his thing, it was supposed to be planned so that the two of you could finally spend some free time together. But, the entire day had ended up with Henry signing autograph after autograph; being hit on by a waitress here, asked out by a bartender there, and he's just taking it as though it is completely normal. You had spent so much time choosing your outfit, ordering clothes for the weekend. It had been so weird to be in his hometown. His parents had been entirely shocked Henry even wanted to come visit home again.They were on a vacation somewhere, Henry spared no expense on their travel it was the one thing the job actually made easier. He was used to the money being able to satiate everyone else in his life, that when it failed to impress you, he had no idea how to go from there. It shocked you how thoroughly and completely he had outweighed telling you what he's feeling. The one thing you wanted more than anything was for Henry to let you in. To just explain his emotions and say what he was thinking. The brooding charm was sexy, and it had no doubt gotten you home from the club that night. But, as boyfriend material he was wearing you thin.

"Why can't we just get one moment together?Or does that not matter to you anymore? We came on this trip in an attempt to be together yet the whole time we have never actually been together. In Fact, I think I've spent more time in your apartment during filming than at your actual home. I'm trying to get to know you Henry, I am but I can't do it if you're constantly flaunting yourself for people.”

"Flaunting?"he asks " You wanted to see my first job, I took you there.That wasn't flaunting.That was me trying to let you in, and the second the waitress compliments me you get upset."

"Compliment!..... Henry? Compliment?Fucking really ? She told you she and the other waitresses had a bet on how big your dick is!" you exclaimed, sitting down at the edge of the bed, partially running a hand through your hair .

"Yeah but I didn't tell them !" he fired back "Look, (y/n) I am trying here. You have to meet me halfway.This is what people are like around me. I want this to work , I -I want this to be something " He slowed his speech down looking directly into your eyes,so piercingly blue. " I also need you to promise me that you're going to try. I-darling I need you to try." he kneeled on the floor in front of you, grabbing your hands and forcing you to look into his eyes. His eyes pierced your soul, he always knew what to say to keep you from walking away. You sighed,removing your hands from his, finally committing to taking down your ponytail and letting your curls frame your face.

"You are beautiful. I'm sorry people reminded me more today of that than they did of you, you need to hear it just as much, if not twice. You deserve it......Everything about being with you makes me feel lucky."

You looked down at him and took notice of the fact that you usually never looked down on him. Seeing the top of his head was a virtue. He was being vulnerable. You also noted the cologne he had on, not overtly strong but,enough of a scent for you to notice. His eyes looked strong, so serious and eager to please you. You gently leaned in and kissed him. You laughed as you felt him smile into your kiss. He reached a hand up cradling the back of your head over your hair, his thumb caressing your cheek. He steadies you, leaning further in. You felt safe, in this room in your little love cocoon. The salty smell of the sea water wafted through the window and you hated yourself for ruining what was meant to be a beautiful time.Waves of emotion washed over you as you inhaled him deeply.

"So you like to argue don't you?" you felt Henry's smile turn into a smirk as he ran his other hand along the up the curve of your thigh, to the edge of your shirt. He played with the hem of the shirt denying you the contact he knew you desperately craved. You pushed your hips further in, closer to him and he exhaled into you. You knew he could feel the heat reverberating from your core, and you were sure his jeans were tightening by the minute. Hooking an arm around his neck you pulled yourself up and into him. He situates his hand on the side of your face slowly dipping his thumb into your mouth. You pull off his baseball cap and toss it behind you. So much for him being disguised during the date. You couldn't get away from the fact that seeing that passion from him, that honesty had moved you.On the other hand he was an actor, that's what they were supposed to do right? say the right thing?

"You know, next time instead of getting jealous" he mumbled in between kisses you could just tell me to follow you to the bathroom. I could be extra loud when I cum too, so they know I belong to you." he lifted you up by your ass and threw you onto the bed.

"aren't you always extra loud when you cum?" You asked wriggling out of your vest and shirt beneath him.

"Isn't that what you like?" he retorts, trying to ignore the fact that he was slightly stuck inside his shirt. Yes he was perfect at saying the right thing but, he was still a person,still real, still riddled with insecurities like anyone else. It just didn't help that the rest of the world rarely saw it. That first night you met he had stood near you in the club for a little shy of an hour before saying anything at all.

He tugs harder on his shirt and you watch as the stretch makes the muscles in his sides more visible, the outline of his ribs below the expanse of hair on his chest that you had never particularly been into, yet on him seemed masculine and mature. Trailing down to the V. His abs and hips meeting in this perfection of symmetrical musculature was enough for you to understand why any woman would swoon at the thought of him entering a diner and crossing his toned legs at the table even with a baseball cap pulled over his eyes.

"Now you're getting shy." He jests at the fact that you had not answered his question but proceeded to take him in.

"Tell daddy what you want." he encouraged, his voice barely a whisper. God, when he said things like that, it made you unable to respond. So, you decided not to,grabbing his hand and moving it down into your sweatpants, to your core pressing it hard against your clit. He began to move his hand slowly as he smiled down at you; The smile lines at the corner of his mouth, playing games with your heart.

"Is that it then ? You just want me to touch you?" his warm hand inched lower and you could feel him lightly dip a finger into you. You moan to your own surprise, andhe immediately removes it. You watch his face, intent and you're slightly embarrassed by the attention, but it's enough just knowing that he wanted to be inside of you, any part of him. You buck your hips up to him in an effort to convince him to finger you again but, to no avail.

"Unnnhhh.No. sweetheart I said tell me " he says shaking his head.

Your voice comes out shakily and much smaller than expected.

" I want- I want you to make me cum." you say breathlessly

"What else?" he leans in , his face turning hard and stoic.

"I want you to degrade me, to use me." He breaks into a full smile now, wide and you exhale loudly as he forces two fingers back inside of you. He chuckles at the noise you make, knowing full well what he's doing to you.

"You want me to use you like a toy because you're a whore." He says matter of factly, picking up speed between your legs.

"You're so wet just thinking of me using you, aren't you princess?" he growls into your ear.God he was really going for it today, and you were loving every minute of it.

"You're so needy already I didn't even get a chance to fuck you." he chuckles and you feel his palm shift right onto your clit.

You manage to whisper "Right there" knowing full well it may be the only instruction you are allowed to give for the rest of the day. But,he doesn't move his hand.

"You like that pressure on your little clit don't you baby?" he asks. You look up at him pleadingly, eyes begging for him to allow you to have this orgasm. "Come for me then, go ahead" he says lifting his eyebrow. You look down at his hand buried inside you under your sweatpants and begin moving your hips faster.

"Come on Daddy's hand since you want to come so bad." he mocks , you buck onto his hands, knowing you are close. You let out a small whine and you can see as his blue pupils blow out with lust. More whimpers come and before you know it you are releasing all over his hand, breathing into his mouth .

"That's my fucking girl." he smiles broadly looking down at you. You cover your eyes with your forearm, embarrassed to know that he had watched your face the entire time.

"You are so beautiful right now." he says as you manage to break into a slight smile, still refusing to make eye contact. You feel the weight on the bed shift as he moves. When you finally remove your arm , you see him at the foot of the bed. Somehow, he had found his hat and he tugs it on as he reaches for his phone on the hotel table.

"What are you doing?" you ask

"O nooow you want to talk to me." he chuckles as you roll your eyes "I'm getting room service for us so we don't have to go anywhere. It's just going to be you and me, like it should've been."

You sit up in bed promptly "Well, I still want to know about this place! What you did, what you liked, what you learned in your hometown."

"This is what I learned, " he says, gesturing to the bed."This is what I'm good at."

"Please, Henry you're good at more than just sex."

"Am I ? My agent isn't exactly having the easiest time right now." he says slumping on the edge of the bed.

"Hey- we both have shit that we could think of all weekend to make us pissed life isn't going our way...or- or we could say fuck it , and enjoy this bit of time we have together because we don't know when it's going to happen again. "

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry sweetheart." he smiles.

"You're forgiven. Now, " you say moving yourself forward and crawling towards him on the bed. "It's your turn" reaching for his belt buckle. He immediately lays back, ready for you to do whatever you wanted with him. Maybe this trip wasn't going to be such a bust after all.

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

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One Summer In Paris ~ Is She Mine? ~ JJK

WORD COUNT: 3.4 K

GENRE: Fluffy, romance, ex-lovers to lovers, smut at a later date

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

DESCRIPTION: Jeon Jungkook had always loved Paris with its amazing views, incredible museums and the small Bookshop right across from the Effiel Tower. It was were he spent a lot of his summer breaks as a kid so he loved it well into his adulthood. There was one bookshop he rented a room in the summer that changed his life. It was a place where he felt happy and at peace whenever he had the chance to stay there. Where he fell in love for the first time and had his first heartbreak, a lot of firsts for him were in Paris. But what happens when he goes back to the same book shop four years later and finds the love of his life in the arms of another with a daughter who looks suspiciously like him…

THEMES: Single Parent, Jungkook x Fem!Reader, self insert, Smut will be included in a later chapter

MASTERLIST || NEXT

As soon as the plane touched the floor Jungkook instantly felt at home even if his home wasn't Paris it was still felt like home to him. Everything about Paris made him feel at peace and in a place, he couldn't help but fall in love with more and more every time they came here. Pulling his bag through the airport calling Namjoon to let him know that he'd arrived in Paris safely like the leader had requested but he had to have been sleeping because there was no answer from him so he just put his baseball cap on paired with some sunglasses and walked out, keeping his head down as he walked.

The joys of the break coming like this meant that no one knew where he was heading, not even his manager knew that Jungkook had flown to France he didn't want everyone following him around he wanted it to be just like his old times there when he was a kid and the last summer he was there. This break was about spending time alone and just having some time to breathe, no paparazzi, no fans. He adored all of ARMY but sometimes he just needed some time to himself.

It was almost four years to the date when the boys all took a break from their idol life to spend some time off and away from everything and just like today he flew to Paris. One of the places he'd loved as a kid since he would always come here on his summer breaks,

"Bonjour," He greeted one of the cab drivers who nodded at him through the rearview mirror with no response, waiting for the address to be given to him. Jungkook could recite the address as if it was his own home address, it had never left his brain even in the four years he'd been away from it.

"234 Louvre Road please," It was the address of an apartment above a book shop, one that he'd spent most of his inside of when he came to Paris with his grandmother, and the one he'd been in four summers ago the last time he was alone in the city without the boys around. Of course, they'd been there many times since but Jungkook could never break away from them or the paparazzi long enough to go and visit the small shop.

"Right away Sir, what brings you to the city of love?" Jungkook assumed he was trying to make some conversation to help pass the time so he just decided to speak back to him. The man was balding and had a thick black beard, he couldn't have been any older than his 50's.

"I've missed coming here, so I decided it was time for a visit." He chuckled to himself even though what he was saying wasn't funny. It was the nervous chuckle he did whenever he didn't know what to say, he turned and began staring out of the window as he passed by everything. Nothing had changed, the views were still spectacular no matter the angle you looked from, everything was still just as beautiful as ever. The sun was already starting to set in the city and it made everything look more impressive than it already did, the fairy lights were just starting to twinkle on the Effiel Tower.

"No story of a long lost love living here? I've heard them all kid and I can read you like a book," The man laughed softly as he pulled onto the main road, Jungkook's heart sank at the thought of you even still being in Paris, you would have been long gone by now there was no way of knowing.

"No. Not for me." He lied, laughing it off as though it wasn't weighing him down so he kept his attention on the view out of the window, looking at all the different people that were around him. All of the couples running along together, families huddled together as they toured the city of love.

This was supposed to be a creative break for him, Namjoon told him that he thought Jungkook could have a breakthrough with some lyrics he'd been struggling on so he was hoping Namjoon was right about that. Paris was always one of the places Jungkook felt most creative, the art and the people all inspiring him. It was where he'd written a lot of the love songs that were on his mixtape...That wasn't released yet, Jungkook didn't think it was ready but he was sure after this break it would be. He just needed something...More.

"Here you go sir," Jungkook tipped the taxi driver and got out at the small book shop.

It was just the way he remembered it from his childhood and the summer he'd spent there. The small shop nestled right between the river and across from the Effiel tower, the view from the apartments above it was honestly breathtaking and made him wonder how the place was still just a book shop instead of a B&B but he didn't mind, the place was still there, still his private little nesting place. He wondered if the inside had changed all over the last four years of him being gone, Grace was always crazy about changing everything inside. Going on about how the decor was wrong, or the shelves needed rearranging whenever she didn't like something in its place. He was about to head inside of the shop when he froze in place, his hand on the handle of his suitcase tensing while his knuckles turned when he saw you standing there.

Reaching across the counter probably speaking French to one of the customers since it was practically your native tongue the way you spoke it, your hair was longer than it was Four summers ago and you seemed happier somehow. The corners of your lips were turned up in a smile and it made his stomach flip and kick the longer he watched you engaging with someone. Although he had no idea what you were saying he was making it up in his head, imagining what you would say to someone who was asking for a book recommendation. It had been one of your favourite things to do in the shop, you'd read so many different books Jungkook always wondered how you kept it all in your head.

"Excusez-Moi monsieur, Allez-Vous à l'intérieur?" Excuse me, sir, are you going in?" Jungkook was pulled from his daydream about you and turned to see a small elderly lady holding a stack of books in her hand, he'd hardly heard her and he doubted that he would if she hadn't have tapped his shoulder to gain his attention. She frowned at him as she watched him, Jungkook could have sworn she looked an awful lot like Grace but he couldn't be sure.

"Oh, Oh...Sorry. No." He stepped out of the way darting to hide down the side of the shop when you looked up. There was a bell above the door that alerted whoever was working that someone had entered so you glanced up, right as Grace walked through the door with a stack of books in her hand.

"Bonjour!" He heard your voice and it was just as sweet as he remembered it from before, you still sounded like you which was good since you were you and not some alien that was disguised to look like you...He knew it was impossible. But his flight over here had been cramped full of dreams about you...Nightmares rather. One stemming from an Alien abduction to the next one of you flipping out at him when you see him.

"There was an odd boy outside, I'm sure I know him." That was his cue to leave that meant that the woman had been Grace. Grace was like a mother to you so he knew you would have told her all about him and why he'd left you, he dragged his suitcase down the cobbled road trying to find another taxi service. He couldn't stay in the apartment above the bookshop you were working in. It would feel too weird but his heart was aching to go and see you one last time. To get one last glance at you before he disappeared, his heart yearned for it but he shook his head, keeping his eyes downcast as he tried to find a cab.

"An odd boy? Madame Grace, you think everyone is odd," You laughed softly at the elderly lady taking her in the direction of the back of the shop to settle her down with a pot of tea and one of the books she'd brought along with her. It was her own store but she'd never read anything from inside of it. 'It's all junk' She said to you one day as she settled down with books in different languages you could never understand.

"He was really odd, just watching you through the window. I thought he was going to come in but then I startled him," She continued ranting about how he shouldn't have been standing in the doorway like that how it would only deter people from coming into the charming little bookshop she owned. You poured her a cup of tea into the small teacup and shook your head at her,

"I'm sure he was just lost Madame Grace," Your voice came out softly and she patted the top of your hand, she always knew you were nice to everyone.

"Where is your handsome boyfriend?" She meant David, of course, she loved him since she was the one to set you up with him and he was..."One of a kind." There was one thing about him, you hadn't worked out what it was going on between you, you knew he liked you a lot and he and Arehum - your daughter - got along perfectly well but you weren't sure how you felt about him. There was nothing wrong with him of course, he was a great guy but there just wasn't something there that made you feel connected to him.

"He's out with Arehum." You spoke to her, she sighed happily going back to her books as you left to go and answer the bell that had been ringing, it was the latest delivery of books that had been ordered in. Josh was standing there with a clipboard and a box that looked relatively heavy.

"Has the person renting the apartment been by yet?" The delivery boy - Josh - asked as he handed you a box full of books, you grunted putting them down behind the counter. Everyone you were close with knew the ins and outs of the shop and were interested to see who you'd finally decided to rent the apartment out to.

"Not yet, I'm sure they'll turn up soon though. I can't believe someone wants that place, no one's been up there in years." You said as you began singing on the small pad he was holding out for you. The bookshop you worked in had two apartments above it, the bookshop was the bottom and basement floor - the basement was mostly used for storage. Then the apartments were on the second and third floors both of them relatively big to say they were just some small apartments.

The third floor was one that an ex-boyfriend of yours had stayed in over the summer four years ago since then no one had rented the apartment out. Mostly because you never advertised it anymore, the thought of someone going up there...Being there where your memories were didn't sit right with you but when someone called to book it you couldn't say no. So you had to venture up there the other day when you had to clean it out since Grace was far too old to come to the shop and do it herself. She struggled walking around alone nevermind climbing up all those stairs and cleaning.

"I hope so anyway, I didn't clean that place out for nothing." You joked as Josh bean walking out of the door and left you to deal with the boxes in front of you. Most of them were on the History of Paris and some were old cliche romances that Grace had clearly snuck onto the order, she was a sucker for the cliches and as much as it pained you to admit it...So were you. The cliche romances where there are two people one bed or enemies to lovers...They were always a favourite of yours.

This was not how Jungkook wanted to spend his holiday, he'd been longing to stay in that apartment since it was where all of his memories were but seeing you there sent him into a wave of emotions, mostly guilt for what he'd done to you. How things had ended between you both wasn't the best of ways.

The Hotel Antoniette was the hotel he'd found the quickest, it was close to the bookshop in case he found himself brave enough to head inside at a later date. The hotel was huge and elaborate, probably since it had been a palace belonging to a French Aristocracy. It was close to the Tuileries Garden and the Louvre which he adored, he could remember all of the times he'd spent roaming around the museum and the garden with you hand in hand as you spoke about your day in the shop and his time in Paris. Back then you had no idea who he was, to you he was just Jungkook who'd been travelling on his break from college to come and see Paris and decided to stay a little longer for the ''view'.' Which of course, the view was you. He wished he'd been honest with you about who he really was. Maybe none of it would have happened. Maybe you would have somehow made it all work out, he could still be happy with you.

His suite was right on the top floor - the best that money could buy him, he figured it would bring more privacy if he could just hide out in the hotel room most of the days. He was sure he could find something to occupy his mind if he did end up stuck here. The room had french-style windows that opened up onto a balcony giving him the most magnificent view of Paris he pushed the doors open to look at the fairy lights on the Effiel Tower in the pitch-black night. He kept his eyes on the structure, watching the way all the lights changed somehow making them look like stars. It was stunning to look at but his mind was going back to you in that book shop. He wondered how you were, How you'd been doing over the last four years and if you'd even remember him but, of course, you would. How could you after what you went through together? That kind of love couldn't have been one-sided and he doubted you could forget it so easily.

Trying to distract himself he went back into his suite to go and unpack his bag, the whole place was like a huge apartment all decorated in white with marble counters. The bedding was a pale-peach kind of colour stacked high with pillows that he had no idea how he was going to get back onto the bed the next morning when he got up. He slid his bag over to the dressing room and almost dropped the case on the spot, it was only half of the size of the bedroom and it was lined wall to wall with mirrors all doubling as wardrobes he could see himself in every square inch of the room so he began unpacking as quickly as he could, making a promise to himself not to go in there at night time because it scared him. The thought of walking into a dark room and catching his own reflection...He'd seen enough horror movies to know better than that.

By the time he got back out of the hotel it was getting close to 10:30 pm and he wanted to stop by the shop one last time, just to see you and maybe try to speak to you. He had his hat on, hoodie pulled around his body with some shorts on since it was summer and quite warm at night, most of the shops were already closing up but he noticed the lights inside the book store were all on.

"Grace I can lock up alone," Your voice came out smooth as you spoke the small old lady who'd been outside of the shop earlier when Jungkook had been there confirming it to be Grace. You slid a cup of what looked like something hot into her hand it was steaming and Jungkook scoffed. Who could drink hot drinks in this weather? It was far too hot for that. It was much better to have a cold drink on a night like this.

"How was your day?" Grace questioned you sitting back against an armchair that was inside of the shop, Jungkook remembered picking the chair out with you at a car boot sale you both went to. He remembered taking it back to the shop in a struggle before the both of you curled up to sleep in it. The chair wasn't huge but it was comfy enough to take a nap together there for an hour or two until he woke up and had a dead arm from the position you'd fallen asleep in. Jungkook felt like such a creep for watching through the giant glass window but there was something about you that was different that he couldn't put his finger on.

"It was okay, Josh came by with a new delivery. How was your day Areum?" You called out behind Grace, Jungkook wondered who Areum was who you seemed to change your tone for. Your tone went from soft to even softer as you looked down at someone. Jungkook remembered you mentioning the name a lot around him but he knew it wasn't one of your friends. All of your friends had french snotty names which were one of the reasons he never wanted to meet them, that and he couldn't risk them knowing who he was and blabbing it to the press that he was in Paris with a girl.

"Areum, how was your day?!" Grace asked politely and a small girl came out from one of the bookshelves dressed in a Princess dress twirling around and waving a wand in the air, Jungkook's mouth fell open as his eyes landed on the small girl. Her hair was long to the lower of her back it was curled at the ends and she had the biggest smiles he'd ever seen on her face as she twirled around and around in one spot.

As he finally got a good look at her his heart sank to the floor as he realised she was the spitting image of him, she had his smile, his eyes and hair colour even the little dimple that he had on his left cheek. He stumbled into a metal table knocking it over and knocking the sign to the shop over, you laughed looking up to see which drunken idiot had knocked it over this time but the smile faded from your lips as soon as you locked eyes with him outside of the window. Your heart began to pound as you stared at one another, your mouth falling into an 'O' shape the longer you watched him. Part of you was praying it was just your eyes playing tricks on you.

"Y/n?" Everyone was in the background as you stared at Jungkook through the window swallowing the huge lump in your throat. No one else in the room mattered now that your eyes were on him. Grace followed your gaze wondering what the big deal was when she saw the same boy from before standing there. Both of you having a stare off as you looked at one another through the giant window.

"He was outside earlier! I told you he was a creep, I'll ring the police." You shook your head rapidly, taking her hand away from the shop phone and telling her to take Areum up the staircase instead. Grace nodded rushing your very confused daughter up the stairs in the back of the shop while Jungkook made his way into the shop, red in the face as he looked at the small girl. All of the dots in his head connecting to get a different image but one still remained as he watched the small girl. Her eyes locking with his as it hit him,

"Y/n...Is she mine?"

MASTERLIST || NEXT

A/N: Just an introduction chapter but what do you guys think so far? 💞✨ If you’d like to be added to a tagline for it let me know

@taestannie @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @kneel-begyourpardon @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @rjsmochii @innersooya

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mochegato · 4 years ago

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Covert Dating

Written for the Jasonette July First Date prompt.

This was it. Marinette had managed to get out of the house without Adrien knowing about it so she could have her first date with Jason. Not that she didn't want Adrien to know about it, it's just that she absolutely DID NOT WANT ADRIEN TO KNOW ABOUT IT. At least not until after the first date… or tenth, you know, whatever.

Adrien knowing meant endless teasing, “knowing” glances, waggling eyebrows, and in-no-way subtle references. Adrien knowing meant an attempt at a shovel talk, which as humorous as it would be to see Adrien attempt to shovel talk a man twice his size, and as flattered as she would be that he tried, no. Just No. She was nervous enough about this date. She had waited long enough for this date.

She and Jason had been building up to this for months. They had first run into each other a few months ago at a coffee shop they both liked and started exchanging courteous nods and discrete, longing stares whenever they ran into each other, eventually building up to smiling at each other and occasionally making funny faces to get the other to smile. But they only really started talking a few weeks ago when she sat at his table and started up a conversation. He looked shocked for a few seconds but then grinned that heart-stopping grin of his and started responding. After that they chatted and flirted whenever they were both there until they finally took the next step, or rather he did, asking her on a date just after she knocked a would-be mugger on his ass after he had attempted to take another patron’s purse.

Hmm… should she be worried that violence seemed to be the tipping point for Jason? Nah, she was going to assume it was because he liked strong women, another bonus to add to the growing list of impressive things about him.

Jason was absolutely amazing. He was funny and he was smart and he was handsome and he was so sweet to her. He cared about others and she had seen him stand up to a few people he thought were acting improperly, which they were. He was interested in her and he had always been more than willing to listen to her and encourage her. He seemed to return the favor and would talk to her about his days and trust her with some of his secrets too. They had built up an immense amount of trust in a very short time, which was frankly a little alarming but also comforting, like being with Jason was right.

They had taken so long to get to this point and now she was completely enamored with Jason. She needed this date to go well. She didn’t need outside interference messing it up. And if Adrien messed up this date, she was not going to react kindly. Which would be a problem because blood was a bitch to get out of carpeting.

She had taken all the necessary precautions. She had smuggled her clothes for the date out of the apartment the morning before and hidden them in her office so she could leave straight from her office that night. She then told Adrien she had to work late, which wasn’t unusual for this time of year so he shouldn’t be suspicious, plus it was kind of true. She had worked late on some designs before getting ready for the date, so it wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t ideal getting ready in the office, but she made it work, not that she needed a lot of space or time, really.

She had opted for casual elegance rather than fancy, which would seem out of place in the small, cozy restaurant they had agreed to meet at. She had chosen a loose silk shirt with red detailing and black tailored pants paired with red flats, in case they wanted to go for a walk after the date, and bright red lips, in case he needed something to focus on during the date. The killer red leather jacket she had designed and created, inspired by Jason, tied it all together and was hanging on the chair behind her. It wasn’t her regular style but she liked the end result and if it made Jason speechless for a few seconds, even better.

The waiter brought a glass of water for her while she waited. She thanked the waiter and brought the glass up to her lips to take a drink then thought better of it and set it back down. Her phone pinged almost as soon as her hand left the glass. She looked down and saw a text from Adrien.

‘Too scared to actually take a drink?’

What? No. She was NOT too scared to take a drink. That's not why... Well, kind of. It wasn't her fears that were getting to her it was her anxiety, which was caused by fears. It was a fine line, really.

She knew everything was set for them to have a great date. They had great banter, they trusted each other, they were attracted to each other (if the lingering stares he gave her were any indication), and they were both interested in the other and single. She knew she had no reason to be nervous and as soon as Jason got there she would relax, but anxiety didn’t always need a reason to take over. So she focused on controlling as much as she could in the hopes of repressing her anxiety. She had chosen the perfect outfit and done her makeup flawlessly. And her lipstick! She couldn’t take a drink before Jason even got there because she didn't want it smudged before he could... wait… What the Fuck!! How did he… Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.

Her head whipped up as she looked around the restaurant. There were a few couples laughing and gazing lovingly at each other, quite a few people on their own watching their phones as they ate, a group of three at another table partially hidden behind menus. They were a bit suspicious, but the blonde in that group was a girl and the boys both had black hair, so they weren’t Adrien. She looked behind her and saw someone grinning at her.

Well, fuck. Apparently not all the necessary precautions then.

Because there was Adrien in a “top notch” disguise; dark glasses, baseball cap, a black mustache, seriously? A black mustache with his blonde hair? That looked… natural, and was that a trench coat!? Yep, that was a trench coat. WTF Adrien! That idiot has absolutely no chill. None whatsoever. Not too surprising really, being the drama king that he is. No blending in unnoticed skills either, which is, you know, a bit surprising considering all the times they snuck out together and that he was Chat freaking Noir. Apparently all his stealth was used when he was Chat and he had none left over for Adrien.

Marinette glared at him and was about to start threatening him when she heard the bell from the door opening. She turned around in time to see Jason entering. Adrien momentarily forgotten, Marinette relaxed and gave a beaming smile, standing up to greet him.

Jason walked in and scanned the room narrowing his eyes then rolling them and started muttering under his breath. Her anxiety ramped up. He didn’t seem to be in a good mood. Shouldn’t he be happy to be there? Granted she was nervous, but she was also really excited and happy. She couldn’t be the only one that felt that way about first dates. No, Adrien said he felt that way whenever he went on first dates too. Jason just looked annoyed. Oh God, what if he had changed his mind? What if he didn’t want this date anymore? Before she could spiral further, his eyes landed on her and lit up, “Hey Pixie,” a smile spread across his face and his shoulders relaxed as he made his way over to her. His eyes gleamed as he looked at her, “Damn, you look amazing. But then you always do.” He gave her a hug and kissed her cheek before sitting down.

She blushed slightly then responded when her heart calmed down a bit, “Thanks. You look good too. But then you always do too.” She noticed his eyes shifting around the room with suspicion. “Hey, Jason,” she started hesitantly, concern and a bit of worry etched in her face, “is something wrong? You seem… distracted?”

He sighed. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be distracted. I want to focus on you and making you blush more,” he grinned when his words worked and Marinette blushed again. “It’s just… there’s a creep in the corner in a trench coat making me nervous.”

“Ahh,” she shifted nervously. She was going to kill Adrien. “Do you want to go someplace else?”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Marinette started to gather her things. “Normally, I’d consider staying just so I could watch him and make sure he doesn’t do anything that I might have to…uh, stop,” he stuttered over his words and hoped she didn’t notice. “But I see several of my family attempting to hide over there,” he said indicating a table to their left with three people hiding behind their menus, “and they can keep an eye on him.”

She stopped and looked at him with an amused glint in her eye, “Your family was worried about me?”

“No, maybe for you but not about you. They’re probably more curious who I was able to convince to go out with me, since I wouldn’t tell them about you, BECAUSE IT IS MY PRIVATE LIFE AND NONE OF THEIR FUCKING BUSINESS.”

The three at the table she had noted before slunk down a bit further in their seats until the older man spoke up. “Hey Little Wing, what are you doing here? What a coincidence, huh?” he said sheepishly.

Jason rolled his eyes and took a deep steadying breath. “I hate my family” he muttered to her under his breath.

“Huh, maybe your nosy, intrusive family should join the creepy guy’s table. They can chat about violating other people’s boundaries.” She giggled with an amused smile. “The creepy guy in the trench coat is my overprotective, mother-henning brother, who somehow found out about this and wanted to make sure you weren’t a serial killer or rapist.” She seemed to think it over quickly and consider all the possible ways that could backfire on her, “On second thought, they shouldn’t meet. We should keep them far, far apart. They can meet at the wedding.”

“Wedding huh?” He said with a smug glint in his eye

Marinette’s eyes went wide and her cheeks turned a bright red color that would make Rudolph proud. “It’s an expression?” She offered weakly putting on the jacket she created for the date.

“I think we should probably have at least one date before we run off to Vegas...” He started smugly, until he looked down and finally took in the jacket she had put on. His eyes widened incrementally and he lost his next words and breath for a few seconds, “…although, I can get us a jet on short notice if this date goes really well.” He leaned closer to her and lowered his head so he was just a few centimeters away from her ear and whispered, “You look really good in that jacket. Red is a good color on you.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it. You inspired it after all.” She grinned up at him and it was his turn to blush. “Although I think you’ve been keeping things from me. You know people who would give you rides in their private jets with no notice? I feel like I should have mentioned as part of the dating package. I might have asked you out sooner.” She gave him a mischievous grin as she slung her purse over her shoulder.

He rolled his eyes at her, knowing better than to take her seriously. “You know I don't actually own the jets, right?”

“Even better. I’ve been told maintaining a jet is a bitch.”

“Oh, so you know people private jets too.”

“I might know a few. But no one who would just give me rides whenever I ask.”

“That's a lie!” she heard yelled from the back of the restaurant.

“SHUT IT, AGRESTE.” She yelled back at him. “You weren’t invited into this conversation.”

“Hey, you’re here to watch her? We’re here to watch him. Wanna watch with us, Blondie?” the blonde girl from Jason’s family table loudly called back to him.

“Sure,” Adrien responded grinning excitedly and getting up and sitting at their table.

“Oh my God, they’re joining forces. What do we do?” Marinette whispered in not-so-mock concern.

“Run away. My motorcycle is right outside. I know a different place we can eat. It’s a nice, family place. You like Italian, yeah?” Jason said conspiratorially grabbing her hand and entwining their fingers as they made a break for the door. Marinette giggled and Jason smiled at the sounds of protest that came from their friends and family.

Continued in Covert Romance

Inspired by this image:

Tag:

@fsketchart @jasonette-july-2k20

#maribat #jasonette #jasonette july 2k20

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pinkhairedlily · 3 years ago

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Chapter 7 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Sakura went to her shift a little bit giddier than usual for a variety of reasons despite the busy holiday season; it was nearing Christmas after all. The first one – having finally tied with Sasuke in their recent exams, and the second – the approval of her personal project. There was also a third reason, but she was unresolved of what to feel.

Kakashi met with her alone after their monthly council meeting. It was the usual talk, the heavy administrative concerns they do not bother other council members with, reminders about problematic behaviors among the student body or personal problems that faculty or students were plagued with that needed intervention. He said an apology just as she reached the door.

“Sakura?” Kakashi asked, turning in his chair.

She looked back at him with a neutral expression. While she knew she wasn’t overtly passive aggressive in her actions, he might have noticed a change in her cheerful disposition towards him. Her clumped fingers anxiously fidgeted with the rubber band on her wrist, his rubber band that she didn’t use anymore to tie her hair. “Yes, sensei?”

“Were you offended with what I said during the school trip?” he asked, but his expression already seemed to know the answer.

Her eyes downcast, she turned the knob of the door, knowing that she was free to leave without replying, but as the door stayed ajar, she decided to come clean. “Yes.”

“I thought as much. I’m aware that I belittled you like a child. Your money is yours to spend however you want. Please know that I only have good intentions with what I’ve done,” her sensei told her. “But isn’t it also unfair for you to shoulder that much problem? I’m a paid employee and before that, I am your adviser. I have a responsibility just as much as you do. Next time you are presented with that, learn to ask for help.”

Sakura didn’t see the expression he had on his face. She was too flustered to compose a comeback and she can only settle for a meek nod before shooting out of the room like her tail was on fire.

“Girlie!” Her coworker’s voice brought her back to reality – a reality of a long queue of customers waiting for their to-go coffees, mini-cakes, and boxes of pastries to share with loved ones in this cold night while she’ll be likely stuck in shift well past beyond midnight, tolerating the café uniform, the itch of her black weave on her scalp, and the heavy makeup she wore for tonight. She flashed an apologetic (yet charming) smile to the other person, and they gave her a thumbs up.

The queue has thinned out by eleven, to be replaced soon by stragglers hoping to catch a last dose of caffeine pump. She stretched her neck and stifled a yawn, forgetting to say Welcome to a customer that walked through their doors.

“Your sweetest drink please and a half dozen of hazelnut cookies,” the customer said. “Thanks, Sakura.”

She almost broke her already strained neck when she raised it up quickly to meet the owner of the voice. No gel blonde hair Naruto with black circles under his eyes. Rookie MVP looked shit as hell.

She barely formed an excuse in her head when he waved his hand in front of her. “You can drop the act with me. I already knew the week you got discharged from the hospital. I just passed by after dinner with the team when I saw a girl manning the cashier with the same band-aid on her nose which I gave you a day before.” Naruto grinned at her in the off chance that it would reassure her.

“Will this be to-go?” Sakura asked as she busied herself with Naruto’s order, unsettled with her carelessness. At the back of her mind, she was yet to answer herself why she was adamant to use a disguise while working.

“For here. Apartment’s kinda bare during these times.”

As what she expected, Naruto was still seated when they were about to close, and ironically, he chose the corner table with no windows, contrary to what his other friend would have chosen. Like those usual nights with Sasuke, she slid in front of him, her disguise gone.

“Let’s go see the amusement park tomorrow?” It was as if she saw sadness being lifted from his shoulders the way they transitioned from slouching to an alert stance.

She found then that Naruto was always that person that found happiness at the simplest things.

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

“A horror house!” Naruto pointed at the very moment they stepped inside the park. He somehow absorbed his captain’s fashion persona, undercut prominent with his baseball cap, loose plain black shirt, and gray cargo pants.

“All right. Treat me if we reach the other end with you clinging to my arm,” Sakura teased. She was dressed in a mauve smocked crop top with high rise flared jeans and platform white sneakers that allowed her to reach Naruto’s shoulders. She wondered if her getup was too much what with the number of heads that turned her way as she littered in the entrance earlier.

Sasuke begged off through their group chat, saying he was unavailable. He was yet to explain that group hug last time, but he was evasive every time Naruto brought it up while she simply cannot find the right timing.

She guessed she was still taken aback by how warm his hold felt like. If she was right, whatever defenses he had around them were toppled down by himself that day. But what triggered it – she’d probably never know.

Naruto placed a fist on his chest. “This is one bet I’ll never lose.”

And he lost – spectacularly. His baseball cap was long gone thanks to a zombie who panicked when he almost punched it. He was also hyperventilating and sweating out of his wits, his throat may have gone hoarse by now with all his screaming inside.

Sakura cannot get rid of the long string of laughter that bubbled. “Come on, let’s cool off for a while.”

To help calm Naruto down, they had to line up with all the other kids in the merry-go-round, then off to paddle a swan boat on a manmade lake. She went all out in the shooting range and won Naruto a frog plushie while he blitzed through the basketball hoops, sneering at the kids beside him who were waiting for their turns.

They capped off the afternoon with a ride on the ferris wheel. They sat opposite each other, and Sakura suddenly felt queasy. She remembered she was apparently acrophobic, and so she focused instead on Naruto who was still in awe of the scenery. The park had a busy crowd today – it was the holiday season after all and families, friends, and lovers were up and about. She just hoped Naruto didn’t catch on yet.

“So why are you stuck with me instead of your family, Sakura?”

Ah he caught on. “They’re busy,” she simply replied. “Besides I’ll see them later in the evening.”

Naruto smiled at her, a smile that knew she was hiding more but he chose not to prod further. Sakura silently conveyed her thanks.

“I don’t know how to thank you. I was really in a slump when we lost, but this day made me recharge my drive and gave me a newfound resolve. You, Pres, is the first to hear it!”

Sakura can only grin, urging him to go on.

“I will bring our school team to the nationals and we will win.”

Sakura clapped her hands and gave him a thumbs up. “Of course, you will. I know you’ll do it.”

“I just wish I told Captain Haru before he left town for vacation.” Naruto slid lower in his seat. “Apparently, he and Hinata broke up. You’re friends with both of them, right?”

Sakura shook her head, shock at the news. She had an inkling from her previous conversation with Haru, but she didn’t expect it would come this early. “I am, but I haven’t really heard from both parties lately.”

“Well, Hinata’s father offered an athletic scholarship to Cap, but he turned it down, saying he was undeserving, and it might just be because of Hinata’s prodding.”

If she recalled correctly, Hiashi Hyuuga was the chair of the Sports Council that spanned all districts of their state. She could see why Haru was angry and disappointed enough to break it off with Hinata. “But they were so good together. Did he ever tell you how they first met?”

Naruto rubbed his hands together and leaned forward. “Do tell please!”

“There was a student exchange of some sort and Hinata ended up in our class for a month. Of course, she was the takane no hana and this immediately gathered a bandwagon group of shallow admirers. Haru, oh Haru, he found pretty people depth-less, but he was the class representative that time – “

“And you were?”

“Of course, a student council president. But wait pay attention Naruto!”

“Okay I am paying attention! But you really are an overachiever!”

“Yeah and what about it!” Sakura almost chuckled in exasperation. “So anyway, he had to escort Hinata back and forth at the school gates because of the unreasonable crowd. He would ask her random things, but most especially on archery since he was so bad at it. And they found a common ground and the topics expanded beyond the arrow and bow. The guy had the nerve to cover it up from me at first, saying they’re fake dating and it was just an arrangement to keep creeps at bay.” She sighed, suddenly saddened by the breakup. “I thought it would last forever.”

“But Hinata never introduced him to her family, did she?” Naruto asked. “Because Cap also told me that when Hiashi called him up for the offer, he didn’t know he was the boyfriend, he was simply a person her friend referred.”

Oh Haru. You must have known what family you were entering when you loved her.

“Hey? Time to get down,” the operator said. Their turn was already finished.

As they walked to the gates, Naruto asked her. “Love is too scary. You’ll never know if you’ll end up hurt or happy despite everything. Besides, can you even say it’ll be worth fighting for?”

Sakura’s fingers immediately went to the rubber band on her wrist, “It’s always a mix of everything, all the good and the bad, and somehow it’s all convoluted into one hodgepodge of memories that will be a part of you forever. It’s your decision what you want to do with it, and in between all of those, you’ll know. Like one big realization in your head that lights up like fireworks and splayed in big capital letters.”

Her eyes met Naruto’s gaze and his eyes slightly widened at her response.

“I talk vague, don’t I?”

“Not at all,” he replied.

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

January couldn’t come fast enough, and Itachi was out of the country just as quickly as he entered his apartment unannounced on Christmas Eve. A holiday break, he said, but if he wasn’t annoyingly checking up on him in the evenings, he was otherwise holed up in his hotel. The truth was, he had a conference and a simultaneous workshop with the state hospital. Sasuke was just a side trip, an obligation that his brother didn’t want to take care of.

He could have told him about Naruto and Sakura and how he now knew all the technicalities of baseball because of the former and that he can consider calling them as friends, but their brotherly bond was too frayed to bridge all of those thoughts.

It was a week before the start of the spring term, and he found himself re-reading Naruto’s texts over and over again.

Grumpy.

So how was your date?

AHHHHH SO IT WAS A DATE. I NOW FEEL SO SHY.

Idiot.

SHE LOOKED SO BEAUTIFUL IN HER GETUP.

Yeah as if you two didn’t already spam the group chat with your pictures.

HEY AT LEAST WE EDITED YOU IN.

Why are you typing in all caps? Your phone broken?

GRUMPPPPPPYYYYY. Grumpy, I have something to tell you. I think I like Sakura – not the ‘like’ like others have for her. It just came to me, like fireworks in big capital letters. I LIKE HER.

Sasuke wasn’t able to reply. He didn’t know what to reply or what to feel, really. These recent nights, his mind only brought him to the first moment he saw her in the café, and there was an unfamiliar pang he couldn’t name.

Then, suddenly he was in front of her in the café itself, ordering an iced americano and bruschetta with tomato and basil. Her eyes lit up in recognition; today she wore her black hair in low pigtails and a light dab of tint on her cheeks and lips.

She sat across him when it was her break time, cheery and still in disguise, the winter cold making the blush even more prominent. “I’m gonna bounce some ideas to you.”

Sasuke kept mum, relishing the sacred combination of tomato and basil in his mouth, but let his stare level with hers.

“The school board approved my personal project. I proposed to set up a mental health committee since our infirmary – get this – and guidance office don’t actually have a psychiatrist. The school will be asking a medical professional to come in for monthly guidance counseling and will be an official partner for outpatient concerns.” With her face on her palm, she leaned forward, seemingly surveying Sasuke’s minute expressions.

“That’s tricky,” he remarked. “How will you encourage them though?”

“I think just the mere availability and accessibility of it is enough to encourage students.”

“Hmm.” He took a sip of his coffee.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me why I did it?”

Sasuke knew that he already broke his resolve to remain uninvolved in the remaining years of his life here in this town. He knew that sometime ago, the walls he built up since the accident broke down in the constant presence of her and the blonde idiot. But in spite of, he knew that there was another layer of wall that withstood the recent onslaught. Unfortunately, something has started to leak from its crevices. Something that made him understand the overwhelming emotions that raged behind such walls.

He missed having her all to himself, like a little secret, a safe abode he could always retreat to – her with her black hair and makeup, her with her bouts of vulnerabilities laid out in front of him in rare moments, her with her emerald eyes and tufts of rose hair that peak from the weave, her in this table in front of him and the world outside divided by a glass window.

If he could name it, it was a feeling of loss, a loss he stole and a loss he never had the privilege of feeling in the first place.

“Because you’re a good person and you always think of others,” Sasuke started, still holding her gaze. “And I think you want it because you might need it more.”

Sakura was the first to break off. She soon excused herself and resumed her shift. By the time Sasuke finished his coffee and bread, it was almost closing time. His words may have struck a chord so he decided not to wait for her. Maybe he’ll talk it through with her next time, if she allowed him to. He was almost out of the doors when the new pair of customers passed by.

A glint of silver hair.

“Oh, hello there Sakura.”

And a brunette on his arm.

Sasuke never saw color drain as quickly as the blush did from Sakura’s face.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 8

#SCPS #student council president sakura #sasusaku #narusaku #kakasaku #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #uzumaki naruto #hatake kakashi #team 7 #lots of narusaku in this one hihi

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maevemarethyu · 4 years ago

Text

Unexpected (4/?)

(Not my GIF)

You weren’t expecting it. Neither of you were.

That didn’t mean you weren’t happy with how it ended.

Bucky Barnes x Reader Fic.

Warning: Cursing, Cheapshots, a bit of violence, Sad Boi Hour and Fluff

Updated 1/20/2021

It was time. The stage was set. After two days of non-stop correspondence with James, who insisted you call him Bucky, he was knocking on your door for the second time.

“Hey!” You greet, not giving him a chance to respond before you wrap your arms around his torso in a tight hug. It takes him a few moments to return the sentiment but, when he does, you can’t help but notice that James Barnes gives excellent hugs. “Sorry, I get all touchy when I’m nervous”

“S’alright.” He chuckles and you can hear it deep in his chest when you pull away. “I just picked up the papers from Matt.”

“I hope he didn’t give you any trouble. He’s always been protective of me but, this whole thing has him on edge. He’s a nice guy, I swear.” You lead him past the neatly stacked boxes of Patrick’s things and into the kitchen.

“I believe it. I woke up this morning and almost everyone was in a disguise and set on following me here.” The mental image of Steve Rogers and Wanda Maximoff dressed in dark shades and baseball caps makes you laugh harder than it should have. You had never met them but, Bucky talked about his team so much that you felt as if you knew them. Sam Wilson had even gone out of his way to steal James’ phone and personally apologize for the part he played in this whole ordeal.

You barely had time to thank him for the role he played in it before he and James were wrestling over the device. It reminded you too much of you and a certain bullet proof man that had somehow become like a brother to you. The thought of having to tell the Defenders what happened kept you up all last night but, it didn’t compare to having to tell Frank.

“That would have been a sight.” A smirk grows on your face. “Is everything ready?”

Bucky nods. “Claire told me she was spending the day with her sister. Her sister’s in Louisiana right now.” You hum in response. Did Claire really think James was dumb enough to believe that?

“I told Patrick that I was taking Laysa to work with me today. Said I’d be home late.”

The stage was set. After two days of torture in the form of loving gazes and gentle kisses with your husband, the time had come; all you had to do was wait.

“Do you really think they’ll come here?”

Your plan hinged on it.

“If not, I’m tracking them down and shoving these papers down their throats. I can’t stomach another day pretending.” You huff and, as if he knew you were talking about him, your phone dinged.

A message from Patrick.

“Hey babe, you home?” You read aloud before scoffing and typing a reply. No, I told you I’m at work all day (sad face) I’ll be home around seven.

You send off the message and open your snack cabinet.

“So attentive.” Bucky drawls sarcastically. “Husband of the year.”

His voice was low and it sends an unwarranted shiver down your spine. If there was one thing you’d learnt about Bucky Barnes over the past few days was that he really didn’t know how attractive he was. It wasn’t just his looks either, it was his sense of humor, his chivalrous nature, the way he talked about his friends, the nicknames; he was a complete package.

You felt ashamed for thinking about him like that before you realized you didn’t have a reason not to… not anymore. You could look at other men with appreciative eyes for the first time in fifteen years. You’d never act upon anything but, the knowledge that you could was liberating to say the least.

“Do you like popcorn? I was thinking we could watch a movie while we wait.” You ramble on, microwaving the packet before he could answer. “Ever seen Heavyweights? It’s an older Disney movie about a weight loss camp that gets taken over by a health nut. I’m asking you to be polite but, we’re watching it. Laysa’s down for a nap, that girl can sleep for days.”

Another laugh then “Sure doll.”

He had learned quite few things about you himself. You were stubborn, almost as much as he was, you had a serious sweet tooth, you had an even wider range of music than Sam did, you had a soft spot for movies from the 90’s and 2000’s, and you were an amazing mom. The way you talked about Laysa made his chest warm.

Bucky always had a soft spot for kids but, he’d never cared so much about a kid he’s never even seen.

“Great! It’s already set up. All you have to do is press play.” You shoo him into the living room as you pour the popcorn into a bowl. For the perfect balance of sweet and salty, you also fish out a bag of M&M’s, pouring them into a separate bowl.

“Hey Buck! Do you want a drink?” You ask as if this was normal for the two of you. Nothing about this was normal but, you can’t help but feel as if this was the most natural thing in the world. James had already seen you at your absolute worst, you didn’t have to pretend around him and it was amazing.

He answers with a Water’s fine Sugar and your cheeks ache from the silly grin that takes over your face as you fill two glasses. Years of practice has you precariously yet perfectly balancing the dishes on your arms as you make your way into the living room.

Bucky jumps up from the couch to grab the bowls out of your hands, setting them on the table before taking a seat on the couch. You were thankful you had insisted on buying all the furniture in your home; the small L-shaped sectional was perfect for the times you had everyone over. You plop down onto it, directly across from James.

“The hell is skim milk?” He asks, face twisted into a frown when one of the characters mentions it.

“Milk with little to no fat. It’s pretty common nowadays.” You explain while grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“We definitely didn’t have that in my day.”

“Right, I always forget that you’re an old man.” The tease makes him perk up a bit and, with a wicked grin, he turns to face you on the sofa.

“You’re gonna want to take that back sweetheart.” He warns.

“What are you now? two-hundred and fifty something?”

You hadn’t spoken to anyone like this other than Matt and Foggy in years, it gave you a rush you hadn’t felt in a long time. The feeling of butterflies had become a distant memory but, they hit you full force when his blue eyes lock onto to yours. Not even the pillow that narrowly misses you is enough to dampen the feeling.

“I thought you were a sniper Sargent? You must’ve lost your touch in your old age.” The next pillow hits you square in the chest and a squeal escapes your mouth before you can stop it. Bastard.

“You were saying?” The smirk that grows on his face is almost too cocky but, still obnoxiously endearing.

You want to retaliate but, instead you stand up to grab the wayward pillow off of the floor. You had a feeling that if you started a war, it would end in something neither of you were ready for. With all the pillows back on the couch you allow yourself to be submersed in the movie, laughing at all the parts you’d seen a thousand times, silently thankful that James was as well.

As the hour gets later, the impending confrontation weighs on your mind heavily with your eyes straying to the door every couple of minutes in anticipation. Not even the bonfire party depicted on the screen was able to capture your full attention.

“That’s all he has?” James asks, nodding towards the boxes when he notices how distracted you are.

“Mhmm. I bought the house and all of the furniture myself. Apparently being a cop doesn’t pay all too well.” You mused whilst staring at the cardboard. Fifteen years of your relationship was packed away in between his shirts and pants: all the jewelry, save your wedding band, and all of your photos together had been tossed in with his things. You didn’t want any reminders of all the years you had wasted upon Patrick Voight.

“What do you do to afford a home in Manhattan? Is it a secret drug cartel? You can tell me, I won’t rat you out.” You knew he was trying to get you to laugh and it worked. The sound bubbling up from your chest and into the air before it dawns on you he didn’t know what you did for a living.

“I wish.” You sigh dramatically. “I’m-“ Your alarm going off cuts your sentence off, signifying that it was time to feed Laysa. “Actually, let me show you. Wait here!”

You abandon him in the living room while you open the nursery door. Laysa’s already awake and mewling up a storm as you bundle her in your arms. “Settle down beautiful.” You whisper. “I have someone I want you to meet.”

She quiets down long enough for you to walk back to the living room and see James nervously rubbing his palms on his pants, looking as if he were about to be sick. If you didn��t know any better, you’d say he was nervous.

“James- Sorry… Bucky meet Laysa.” You keep your voice low as to not startle her and you unwrap the blanket around her. He’s out of his seat and in front of you almost faster than you could blink. Once her face is uncovered, he gasps.

“Wha- I thought- What is she?” He stutters as he takes in her white fur spotted with black and arctic eyes just like his own. His mouth drops open in wonder when she squeaks.

“She’s a snow leopard cub. I’m a keeper at the Bronx Zoo as well as a zoologist and wildlife rehabilitator; her mother had twins but, Laysa got ill so she ignored her to focus on the healthier cub. It’s not all that uncommon in the wild and if this happened in their homeland of Siberia, Laysa wouldn’t have made it through the first night. She needed round the clock care and I already had the nursery set up from when I had to take in some macaws.” You explain, rubbing under the cub’s chin. “What did you think Laysa was?”

James’ cheeks redden at your question and you feel your own face heat up. He didn’t-

“I thought you had a baby.” He admits sheepishly before meeting your eyes. “This… isn’t what I was expecting.”

You can’t help but laugh as you grab his hand and place it on Laysa’s head. “If I had a child and found out Patrick was cheating on me, nothing on this planet would be able to save him.”

You meant it and you had the resources to follow through.

But, that wasn’t something James should know about just yet… or ever. Not when he looked so tender stroking the small cub.

“Can you hold her while I make her bottle?” Once again, you don’t wait for confirmation before handing her off to him and going to the kitchen to heat up her meal; enjoying the milk while you can. Soon enough she’s going to be on a raw meat diet and you were not looking forward to cutting up bloody deer and pig.

By the time you arrive back to the living room, James is sat on the couch, Layla settling onto his lap, both entranced by the television. You don’t think twice before snapping a picture to send to Sam later, sure that he’d love to poke fun at Barnes for going soft.

Though, soft isn’t a word you’d use to describe James Barnes. Quite the opposite actually. The man was a wall of rippling and glistening muscle. Muscle that had invaded what little sleep you had gotten since meeting him.

You didn’t mind it all too much as long as it kept Patrick off of your mind.

You take your seat opposite to the man, almost immediately being ambushed by a little ball of fur who had just seemed to notice the bottle in your hand. Laysa’s steps were stuttered and clumsy but, you saw them as progress, last week she could barely move.

“Look at you go!” You coo, scooping her up when she gets close and she eagerly takes the bottle. She really had done a complete three-sixty from when you first brought her home. You loved working with animals and you loved being able to watch them in their natural habitat from afar but, being able to hold and nurse them was incredible.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to the zoo before.” James voices before taking a drink and you let out an exaggerated gasp.

“That just won’t do.” You tsk, readjusting the bottle. “You should come when I go back to full time. You can even bring Steve; we have senior discounts.”

He glares at you playfully before setting his glass down and settling back onto the couch; back leaning against the armrest and legs sprawled out on the cushions. He looked more relaxed than he had the entire time you’d known him and it brings a warm smile to your face.

Laysa finishes her bottle and is asleep almost instantly; instead of putting her back in the nursery, you wrap her in a blanket and set her on the couch next to you.

“Y’know I told everyone you had a kid. Stevie almost hunted down Patrick himself when he found out, Nat had to stop him. Then, when you talked about how sick she was, Nat had to stop me from hunting him down.” He confesses, eyes never leaving the little bundle next to you.

“Good to know family means a lot to you superheroes.” You laugh quietly, eyes drifting from the screen to the figure laying across from you. “You’re going to have to wait in line behind Matt and Foggy though and that’s only if they get to him before Elle does.”

Yes, Elektra made it very clear that she’s first in line if Patrick tries something after today.

Barnes raises an eyebrow but says nothing as he grabs a handful of M&M’s, giving you an idea. You and Foggy used to do this during late night’s studying at Cambridge; after discovering Matt’s abilities you roped him into it too. Whenever any of you got too overwhelmed, it was tradition to have a movie night complete with the game.

“Hey, see if you can make one into my mouth. If you make it, you can either ask me a truth or to do a dare.” You prompt, mimicking his positioning by leaning against the back of the couch and bringing your feet up onto the cushions. “If you miss, it’s my turn.”

“You have to answer?” He clarifies, already settling into a suitable position and you nod giddily. Patrick never played the game with you; said it was childish and not worth his time. You found yourself comparing Bucky to Patrick a lot in the past few days. “Who’s first?”

Just as the Apache relay in the movie begins, so does your competition with the Avenger on your couch as you open your mouth expectantly. You realize your mistake as the first M&M falls into your mouth with ease. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t smart to ask an Avenger grade sniper to play your candy truth or dare game.

James doesn’t even try to hide his cocky grin. “What’s the worst dare you’ve had to do because of this game?”

Oh he was going straight for the jugular. Sadly, you didn’t have to think too hard. Matt and Foggy were a little fucked in the brain if you were being honest.

The drop of chocolate melts on your tongue and you hum in satisfaction before answering. “It’s a toss up between having to streak across campus naked and having to down half a bottle of tequila. Consequently those were on the same night so yeah.”

His blue eyes widen in shock and you try to play it off as no big deal with a shrug. That was definitely your most memorable college experience and one you hadn’t even told Patrick about because you were sure he would have had a conniption.

“Naked?! You ran across a campus naked?”

“Mhm. Cambridge was never the same after Foggy, Matt, and I went.”

He mouths the word Cambridge in disbelief before a smirk takes its place. “I guess I have no choice but to believe you.”

“Actually, I think Foggy still has a video of it. He planned on playing it at my wedding but, Matt and I vetoed the idea.”

You shuddered to think what would have happened if your two hundred plus guests had to witness your blurry and naked form dashing through the dark with Matt and Foggy’s laughter in the background. You mother probably would have dropped dead right there.

“That’s a wedding I would have paid to be at.” He laughs. “I didn’t even have a proper one. Claire wanted a courthouse.”

“I almost wish I had a courthouse ceremony.” You admit whilst grabbing a handful of chocolate. “I ended up having people I didn’t even know watching what was supposed to be the best day of my life. All I can remember from that day was thanking Patrick’s twice removed great step aunt for her attendance and that my dress was the most hideous thing I’d ever laid eyes on.”

With a roll of your eyes, you motion for him to open his mouth and he does so with a smirk. Unfortunately for you, your aim wasn’t as good as James’ or Matt’s and the piece of candy ends up smacking him in the cheek before falling only to be caught mid-air by a metal fist.

Show off.

You stick your tongue out in a childish form of retaliation and an incredulous laugh falls from the man’s lips. Embarrassment heats your face and you open your mouth reluctantly, signaling the continuation of the game in order to prevent a snarky comment from Barnes.

Once again the candy lands in your mouth effortlessly and you groan. You hear him clear his throat and you brace yourself.

“What’s your favorite kind of food?”

The game takes off from there with Barnes managing to make every candy but one into your mouth and asking you questions that can only be considered mildly invasive where as you had more candy on the floor than you did in your hand, only making two or three of your shots.

“What’s your favorite memory from before the war?” You ask and it clearly catches him off guard. You almost feel bad before remembering the reason for the game. It was to get to know each other beyond what was currently happening.

He tells you his favorite memory about Steve spending their train money on hot dogs and it has you laughing so hard that tears come to your eyes.

“Y-You spent how much on a stuffed animal?” You choke on a laugh as you try to catch your breath and soon enough, he’s laughing along with you, both of you oblivious to the door unlocking.

A candy pelts your shoulder and you retaliate with two thrown in his general direction, neither of which hit.

“I thought you’d be good at this doll. This is your game.” The way he chuckles send a shiver straight down your spine and you brush off the feeling by throwing a pillow at him which he catches easily. Anything to get to hear him laugh like that again. James had a nice laugh that came from his stomach and reverberated around you like his embrace from earlier.

“Oh my God.”

Yours and James’ heads snap towards the door where the two people you dreaded seeing were stood, mouths open and eyes wide in shock. Patrick and Claire were here and you and James had been too caught up in each other to notice. The thought made a smug and downright cruel smirk grow on your face which only widens when James walks to your side of the couch and offers his hand to help you stand.

You and James were a united front and it appeared that he wanted them to know it.

Your eyes abandon his blue ones and look towards Patrick. He was seething, you could see it in his eyes but, you could also see the fear. After all, he had just been caught with the Winter Soldier’s wife and James could snap him in half with his vibranium arm tied behind his back.

Despite the victorious feeling in your chest, you seem to be at a loss for words. You want to yell. To scream in their faces that they were caught and they were about to lose the best things to ever happen to them. Instead you scoff.

“About damn time you got here.” You scowl, picking up the stack of papers on the coffee table and handing the top one to the man beside you. He takes it with a poorly whispered Thanks sweetheart and you know it’s because he wants to get under Patrick and Claire’s skin.

It works.

“Y/N, baby w-what is this?” Patrick stutters next to a teary Claire who looks nothing less than ashamed. They were caught and they both knew it but, Patrick never was one to go down without a fight.

“This.” You motion between the minimal space between you and James, anger rising in your chest. “Is my good friend Bucky. You’d never guess how we met. When was it again?”

There’s a bite to your words that makes Claire wince and you want to throttle her. She didn’t get to act scared and sorry now. She sure as hell wasn’t scared or sorry when she was destroying her marriage and hurting the man who had vowed to love her for the rest of their lives.

Your eyes flicker to Bucky’s blue ones and underneath the anger, you could still see the sadness that was currently weighing your own heart down. You could read him like a book and you were both on the same page.

He pretends to think for a moment before answering. “Three days ago. I believe I ran all the way here after finding out the guy who my wife was cheating on me with had a wife of his own. I’d say we bonded pretty quickly. Shared life experience will do that.”

His words cut like a knife and you love it. All you had seen was James Barnes the gentleman, this was new and exciting. Dare you say, attractive even.

“B-Buck-“ Claire sobs and you can’t stop the scoff the leaves your throat. “It d-didn’t mean anything. I swear. I love you m-more than anything.”

Her words set something off in the man next to you and he growls; the sound shaking your very core. You hand finds his arm on its own vocation and, as calmly as you can, make your way towards the shell-shocked pair. Ignoring Patrick in favor of leveling a glare at the woman who tore your marriage, your life apart. Maybe it was petty of you but, you honestly didn’t see what either man saw in Claire. You were thoroughly unimpressed.

“If you loved him, this would have never happened.” You seethe, inches away from her face. “I’ve known him for seventy-two hours and I can already see that he is a kind, caring, selfless man who deserves much better than you. You’re pathetic. A sniveling little girl who isn’t a fraction of the woman he deserves. You’re a rat. My husband is a rat. And if you know what’s good for you, you’d save your bullshit apologies and words for your fucking lawyer.”

A firm grip on your arm causes you to gasp and turn towards your soon-to-be ex-husband but, as soon as you register his hand on you, it’s wretched away by sleek metal.

“You don’t get to touch her.” James warns, flinging Patrick to the floor in a heap. Without a second glance to him, he turns to Claire and forces the papers into her hands. You let your stack fall onto the man on the ground.

“Your shits packed Patrick. Take it and get the hell out of my house.” You mock in your bitchiest voice before looping an arm through James’. “I was thinking Thai tonight. Sound good?”

Patrick mumbles something under his breath and you just know it’s something snide; you want to shrug it off but, something deep in your gut wants to fight with him. Scream. Yell. Curse.

“What was that?” You ask in a sickly-sweet voice, daring him to repeat his words for all of you to hear. You know he will. He always rises to the bait.

“I said you’re a raging bitch.” He shuffles to his feet with a glare directed at you. Bucky bristles beside you and mumble for him to let it go. To let you handle it.

“If me throwing your lying ass out onto the streets means I’m a raging bitch, then I guess I am. But, I’d rather be a raging bitch than a washed up, dishonorably discharged, peaked in high school, disrespectful to his mother, wannabe Avenger, who can’t match his own fucking clothes.” The insults spew out of your mouth like dragon’s breath and it burns him with how calm you sound. You knew raising your voice would give him the satisfaction he craved so you held out.

“Do you wanna know why Y/N? Do you want to know why all of this happened?” You open your mouth to say no but, he keeps talking. “When I got dusted. My last thought was damn, I’m dead and I wasted half my life on an ugly cow who thinks she’s hot shit because she went to college!”

His words were like a slap in the face but, you’d rather die than let it show so, you force a laugh out of your lungs.

“I didn’t just go to college. I got two fucking Doctorates.” You seethe, gripping onto James’ arm for some kind of ground.

“Oh and I’m sure your parents would be very proud of you if they didn’t abandon you on the side of the road like trash!”

Whatever you were going to say next gets caught in your throat. You never spoke of your parents and Patrick knew that. He knew it was a line he was never supposed to cross. You’d kept your insecurities close to your chest; not even telling Matt, Foggy, or-

“Get out.” Your voice cracks and, when he doesn’t move, you end up yelling. “Get the fuck out!”

“And I’m sure they’d love to hear about you shacking up with a HYDRA assassin. You’ve been surrounded by scum all your life, why should I be surprised.”

“Patrick-“ Claire gasps yet, no one pays her any mind. She was background noise to the firefight between you and your husband. You almost feel guilty- this wasn’t just about you and Patrick; Bucky was supposed to get his time to confront Claire as well but, for some stupid reason, you hadn’t been expecting this.

You hadn’t expected the man you love to open your stitched wounds by shoving a hot knife into them. Suddenly, you stand up straight and before you realize it, your phone is in your hand.

Your birth parents may have abandoned you, your adoptive parents may have passed away, but you still had family. You still had him and you were a fool for thinking you shouldn’t rely on him.

The ringing doesn’t last a full second before the call connects and a raspy voice shoots the fear of god into your soon-to-be ex-husband. A god named Frank Castle.

“Yeah sis? E’vrything all right?” He grunts, probably in the middle of his daily workout. You had two choices; handle this like an adult or…

“Frankie?!” You sob dramatically with a truly wicked smile on your face. “H-He’s been cheating on me and-“

The phone cuts off as soon as the words leave your mouth and your eyes meet Patrick’s wide ones.

“You better start running baby.” You hiss. “Hope you have a good place to hide. I don’t think The Punisher is going to show the man who broke his baby sister’s heart much mercy.”

You hated the nickname but, it struck fear into the hearts of all who heard it. Beside you Bucky barks out a laugh.

Maybe not everyone.

Regardless, time is of the essence and Patrick knows it because he’s instantly scrambling. The way he trips over his own feet to take his meager possessions has you humming in satisfaction. Watching him panic makes you feel vindicated. He was going to pay for hurting you.

You knew the feeling was temporary, so you revel in it while you can.

“Leave your key. I want these papers signed and then I never want to see you again.” You order and the papers are signed and in your hand within minutes.

Without so much as a goodbye or sorry, he leaves. Abandoning you and the life you two had built together. Abandoning Claire to face you and James alone. A coward- through and through. How had you been so blind this whole time? This was who Patrick was- who he had been all your lives.

Fifteen years and he was able to just turn his back on it all. Leave like it didn’t matter.

Like you didn’t matter.

God, you wish it didn’t hurt as much as it did.

“The apartment’s yours.” Bucky voices after a moment of silence and a sharp laugh leaves your lips when Claire sobs. “I advise you apply for a transfer though. Natasha made it very clear what will happen if she sees you again.”

You watch as she reaches for him before her hand falters mid-air, consequently falling back to her side and tightening into a fist.

“You’re going to regret this.” She hisses even though tears are falling from her eyes. “You’re nothing without me.”

Your breath catches in your throat when Bucky stiffens next to you. This bitch…

“Without me all you are is a stupid, needy, little HYD-“

Your fist throbs instantly and it takes you a moment to realize what you had just done. Eyes wide, you stare at the red welt on Claire’s cheek, down to your fist, and up to James, who is looking back with eyes just as wide.

“Did you just punch me?!” She shrieks, both hands flying up to cover her cheek.

“Yeah.” You mumble after a beat of silence before clearing your throat. “I did and I want you out of my home before I give you a matching bruise on the other side as well.”

She sputters in disbelief before turning her eyes back to Bucky who, once he’s over his shock, just shrugs. “You heard her. We’re done here.”

With a stomp of her foot and a childish wail, she stalks out the door and you follow, slamming it after her.

Silence envelops the room and you’re acutely aware of Bucky’s eyes on you. Shuffling your feet, you garner the courage to look him in his eyes.

“That went well.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: @luthien-t @vicmc624

#bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n

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that-damn-girl · 5 years ago

Text

Boomerang

(Oneshot)

Pairing: Sam Wilson x (cis)female!reader

Words: 3000+

Type: Not exactly fluff, but not angst either. Smut. Happy ending.

Warnings: Smut ahead. It's not exactly cheating, but idk what exactly your definition of cheating is. So just warning. Happy ending though. Not proofread.

Summary: You only know what you had after you've lost it. Although it's been two years since you've broken up, you can't forget about Sam.

A/N: This is in answer to a request by the wonderful @princessmisery666 . The song prompt requested was 'Boomerang' by Mic Lowry. Honey, my writing isn't as good as you, but I hope you like it.

I know why you're calling me

'Cause he can't love you like you want him to

You know I hit it properly

But nobody do it like me and you

"So," You started, feeling a bit awkward, playing with your bracelet as you sat stiffly, "How's life?"

You had bumped into Sam in the streets of New York City, purely coincidentally. You were on the way to your apartment from the store, hands filled with snacks as your dinner, when you bumped into Sam. He was walking over from the other direction, fully concentrated on typing furiously in his phone to notice anything else.

You didn't mean to start a conversation with your ex from two years ago, but after seeing him out of the blue you couldn't keep yourself from loudly gasping, 'Oh my god, Sam?' He had looked taken aback at the sudden outburst of his name; and at seeing you too. He had a baseball cap and a pair of reflectors on; in a 'disguise', in hopes that nobody would recognise the new Captain America.

Although you felt awkward, you didn't want things to be so. You didn't want to let him know that you were still hung up on him while in another relationship.

As you made small conversation, he asked you if you were free to have dinner, just to catch up. You didn't want to say yes, but you did thinking it would be better than whatever junk you initially intended to munch upon. Moreover, it was just to catch up, right?

Right?

It's funny how everything changes, but still remains the same

Something like a boomerang, you're coming 'round my way

'Cause I've been hearing all these rumors

That you've been seeing someone new

You went to a pizza place nearby. You seemed to have run out of topics when you asked that question.

Sam smiled. Well, he always either smiled or smirked, "It's been a little stressful lately." He shrugged, "But life always is. You say." He did that cute little head tilt of his.

You didn't want to drown in him, in the memories he brought back with himself, but you did. If he noticed yourself looking at him with a distant gaze, he didn't comment.

"Well, my boss is the same piece of shit she's always been. My rent got increased with no promotion in sight. Same old, same old. How's Bucky?"

"Oh, he's doing much better than the last you saw him, actually. My man is killin' it. He is much more open now. The nightmares are very rare now. From what I hear, his therapy's going great. Also, remember Sharon? Yeah, Bucky and her are kind of a thing now." Sam said, leaning forward and keeping his hands criss-crossed on the table, which bulged out his biceps.

"Oh," you said, taking a moment to think but having a hard time imagining Bucky and Sharon as a couple; and also trying to get the flashing memories of his hands from around you out of your head, "Really? Wouldn't have guessed those two."

"Yeah, it was a shocker for me too! But they are just at the start of it, so let's see how it actually goes." Sam shrugged, "Enough of him, though. Tell me about your man." Sam didn't miss the way your smile faltered just for a second.

But you addicted to my addiction

It's time for you to stay away, away

So call the medical, can get a little dose

I got an antidote for that body

We're compatible, ain't no need to take it slow

You knew you had gotten in your current relationship with Jason as a way to get over Sam, because you couldn't get the thoughts of him out of your mind even after a year of breaking up with him. Now nearly reaching your first year anniversary, you still couldn't.

You knew you should've felt guilty for misleading Jason, but you somehow didn't. The year you had spent with him made you realise that the two of you never had a connection as deep as you and Sam did in the six months you were together.

Moreover, it didn't even feel like Jason was actually trying. That night was supposed to be a date night. As you were nearly ready, dressed to the nines and eagerly awaiting the forthcoming hours, for the third time in a row Jason had cancelled. He had had made plans with his work friends which he had forgotten about. As his boss was included too, he couldn't ditch them last minute. That is why you had planned on munching all the junk available you could get your hands on and dwell in your sorrows.

You understood. You always did.

Things like this only prompted your subconscious brain to point out the vast differences between him and Sam. You had gotten with him not long after he had to handle Captain America's mantle. The first few weeks had been extremely stressful for Sam, yet that didn't deter him from being the ever dotting boyfriend to you. Plans were hardly ever cancelled, and when they were, the newer ones were worth wait.

"Jason," You looked around, not daring to hold eye contact with Sam, "He's a great guy." Yet, Sam easily caught onto your bluff. He didn't say anything though, sparring you the embarrassment.

Truth be told, he was internally satisfied to know that your current wasn't as good as him, but he hid that well. Despite it he wasn't happy. How could he, when you weren't.

You talked about Jason, exaggerating his goodness. It felt like you were trying to make yourself believe that indeed he was as good as you said. Moving on from him, you asked Sam if he had gotten someone in his life.

Sam dipped his head, suddenly finding the napkin on his lap extraordinarily interesting, "There's been no one but you, Y/N." As he looked up, you couldn't help but let your breath hitch as his eyes bore into yours. He put on a smile which couldn't mask the seriousness and melancholy behind his words which you knew in an instant they were nothing if not true.

"Sam..." You started, but the phone ringing, flashing your best friend's name saved you from having to reply to the mind boggling discovery.

I know, I know, I know

I know why you're calling me

'Cause he can't love you like you want him to

You know I hit it properly

But nobody do it like me and you

I know what you need, girl, you know this also

As your call had ended, Sam brought up discussions from the pop culture and you two fell back into conversation, the earlier revelation being completely ignored. Soon your meal was over. As you the stepped onto the sidewalk, Sam insisted that he walked you home. You didn't think it was a good idea, but Sam claimed that it was rather late and he couldn't relax until he made sure you were safe and sound in your house. So you agreed.

The conversation was light, as before. None dared to jump into the talks of feelings, not trusting themselves keep their hands to themselves.

When you reached your building, 'It was good to meet you after so long's were said and goodbyes were exchanged. As Sam saw you climb up the stairs to the front door, walking away from him yet again, he couldn't bear the pain of letting you go so soon; of not being the one to hold you close in your lows; of not trying; of not telling you the one thing which had been on his mind the entire night and regretting it later.

He climbed up to you in two long strides, skipping a few steps in between. Just as you were about to open the gate, he turned you around, and clashed his lips with yours. Shocked by the suddenness, you pressed you lips to harder. They were sweet and plump, just as you remembered.

I'll leave the key up under the door

So you can come on, get on top of me

So I can fuck you like you want me to, like you want me to

I'm told you want it

Girl, like you want me, too

I'm told you want it

He immediately pulled back only a second later. His hands cupped your face as his forehead leaned against yours. "Baby girl," That nickname, that damn nickname, "I love you still, so fucking much. Know that I've waited for you, and I'll always wait for you."

Not giving you anytime to think about it, he climbed down the steps and walked away into the shadows of the night. You stared at his retreating figure dumbfounded, your own heart beats loud and clear in your ear, making you doubt when what happened was actually true or was it just one of your daydreams .

~~~

Sweet yet powerful, that's how the memories you carried of being with Sam were. You'd never had had to think about putting effort into your relationship as things things escalated; how you'd seemed to know what other needed when, the trust into each other, the support for each other, the understanding; everything had come naturally.

Your relationship had ended only because of your fear of being close anyone.

You hadn't known you'd fall for Sam as deep and hard as you did. 'I love you's were said. You were happy. When he asked you to move in with him, you weren't.

Commuting to and fro from work to you was a work in itself. Sam knew you wouldn't like the idea because of how scared you were if your own feelings, so he never raised the question. However, it slipped past his lips on the night of your six month anniversary, after a nerve wrecking session in bed. Perhaps he really had wrecked his nerves between his brain and mouth when those words left his lips despite knowing better.

Overwhelmed at the fast pace of everything going in and around you, you immediately left his home. You were scared like all good things, this was just a dream; that he would leave you as soon as you allowed him to breakdown that last layer of boundary you had protected yourself behind all your life.

You figured, getting your heart broken then was better than later.

He gives you that basic kinda loving, now all you do is complain

(I bet the neighbors don't know his name)

You know I got that boomerang (boomerang) so I come through late, oh oh oh oh

So shout me when you coming through, right

You ain't gotta tell me what to do tonight

As you sat across Jason the next day, eating the dinner which was initially planed to be had a day before, you couldn't get Sam out of your mind. Though you yourself loved him still, it was hard for you to accept that after the bizarre note on which you ended things, he still loved you to this day.

You moved your food around the plate, your mind working overtime enough to kill any appetite.

You looked up at Jason, animatedly telling you about his week at work, without having yet asking about yours. Sam never did that, your brain said. No matter what, he always loved hearing you talk about your days, not caring how shitty or monotonous they were. He also loved talking about his, excitedly gushing about the love and support he recieved and carefully leaving out the gruesome details of the missions he went on. He was Captain freaking America, yet he never made you feel any less.

You're addicted to my addiction

It's time for you to stay away, away, yeah

So call the medical, can get a little dose

I got an antidote for that body

We're compatible, ain't no need to take it slow

Work had always been important for Jason. For many it is. It was important for you as well. It was important for Sam too, yet you were always his top priority. Albeit not before saving the world at last minute notifications, but in a way you were his world too.

As Jason kept on and on talking about himself and only himself, you couldn't help but cherish how Sam had been anything but self centred. He was selfless almost to a fault.

You sat there, staring at the face of one man but thinking of another. As your brain pointed out the differences between the two one after the other, something in your brain clicked.

You grabbed his hand at once, not giving any second thought to what you said and what you did, "Jason," When he got your attention, you said, "I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry, but it's over."

Jason gaped at you open mouthed, flabbergasted at how out of the blue it was, "I- what- Y/N?"

He watched you stand up and put a few bills down on the table. Before leaving, you turned to him and said, "It's okay, I won't miss you."

You left in a hurry. On the sidewalks you hailed a cab and gave the directions to Sam's place.

I know, I know, I know

I know why you're calling me

'Cause he can't love you like you want him to

You know I hit it properly

But nobody do it like me and you

I know what you need, girl, you know this also

I'll leave the key up under the door

So you can come on, get on top of me

So I can fuck you like you want me to, like you want me to

I'm told you want it

Girl, like you want me to

I'm told you want it

You chewed your lips as stared out the window. You should've known that you wouldn't have been able to stay away from him; that you were bound to return to him, like a boomerang.

You felt like a bitch, and not in a good way. Though your feelings hadn't lessened, you realised what a fool you were in leaving Sam only after being with Jason. It wasn't ideal and you weren't the most proud person around, but the heart wants what it wants.

As soon as the cab stopped, you paid and hurried to Sam's door. Pressing the doorbell, you only wished he didn't have any plans for the evening. When he didn't answer the door right away, your anxiety started gnawing at you.

What were you thinking? Of , course he'd have plans on a Saturday night. He's Captain America, for heaven's sake. Of fucking course he'd be busy. It was so stupid of you -

"Y/N?" Sam gasped. Not in his wildest dreams had he thought that he'd find you on his porch, deranged like you were. He didn't even think you'd come back to him after the stunt he pulled the previous night.

This time round, you gave him no time to ponder as holding his neck you brought him down and kissed his lips with all the strength you could muster. After getting over the initial shock, Sam picked you up by your waist in a second and you gladly wrapped your legs around him. He closed the door and pushed you against it.

You pulled back, clutching his face softly, "Sam, Sam, I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry." He put you down, cupping your tear stained face. He tried to stop you, but you continued, "I shouldn't have had left you. I was just so scared, Sam. I thought you would've left me eventually." You paused, taking a deep breath, "I love you Sam, so fucking much."

Sam hugged you close, petting your head, whispering sooth calming words. You said still, "I broke up with him. I'm sorry I didn't realise it sooner. Please, have me back Sam...I understand if you're upset with me, and you got every right -"

Sam shut you up with his lips, which unhurriedly moved against yours, warming up your heart and soul, "Baby," He breathed against you, "You don't gotta be sorry about anything," He moved to your ears, whispering, "I love you, honey. So glad you're back."

He descended to take your lips in his once again, biting them ever so softly. Licking and sucking your lips as if it were the last time he'd kiss you, Sam picked you up and carried you to his bed, on which he dropped you down unceremoniously before caging you between him and his bed.

Now I got your head up in the pillow

Girl, you can't say nothing, can't say nothing

I'ma have you here like a boomerang

Make you wanna say something, wanna say something

His arms went under your shirt, lifting it, drawing his hands up and down your sides. Littering you neck with kisses, he raised your shirt over your head. Your own hands moved to his back beneath his shirt. He removed his own, and soon, the both of you undressed completely.

When his mouth went back on yours, his skin moved against yours, sating the need to be close to him. His hand went down lower, messaging your clit with his calloused fingers. You let out a moan as the electric pulses raced down your nerves.

You drifted lower to the skin beneath his ear right above his pulsing vein, sucking and nipping at it. Sam moaned sinfully in your ear, relocating his fingers in your channel and slowly easing into it. The heel of his palm worked magic on your clit while his fingers leisurely yet steadily brought you cleaser.

Panting, you said, "S-Sam, I need you."

"Baby girl..." Sam whispered, increasing his pace.

"I need you right now. Please, Sam," You whimpered, unable to control yourself as your back arched.

"You sure, honey?" Sam asked. As soon as you voiced out your confirmation, he took his hard length in his hand and stroked it before placing it near your entrance. He slid it up and down your slit, teasing you nub everytime he touched it.

Fixing his length in front of your entrance, Sam groaned as he pushed inside, "Ah, baby girl."

You whimpered, surprised by the stretch but welcomed it with open arms. Your walls clutched his member hard, letting you feel every protruding vein pulsing inside you. Not wanting to wait any longer, you gripped his ass, pushing him further inside you and urging him to move.

He started out slow, taking his time, enjoy the feel of you around snugly around him, leisurely soothing the want you both had. After a handful of strokes though, he couldn't contain himself. He hadn't touched in so long, hadn't felt you in so fucking long. He needed to like a starved needed food.

Balancing his weight on his arms, he thrust inside you again and again without any restrain. You moaned loudly as his bulbous head hit your g-spot at the new angle. He railed you into the bed, grunts escape every so often, charging you up even more.

He kissed sucked the skin of your neck, marking you, laying his claim on you. The meaty and veiny member of his soothed the need of friction inside you.

"Sam..." You squeezed his ass, moaning his name repeatedly. He in turn moaned into you ear you good you took him, how good your velvety walls felt around him. Sensing him nearing his climax, he rubbed you bundle of nerves expertly with his fingers.

"Cum for me, baby girl," You closed your eyes and arched your back, letting out a silent scream as white hot pleasure ran through your veins when you came. Feeling your walls clench around him, he couldn't help himself as his face contorted into pleasure; his pace faltering as he released himself in you.

His head fell down in the crook of your neck, splaying gentle kisses around every surface he could reach. With the promise of more beautiful times, he tucked you in his arms as he rolled onto his side and the both of went into a peaceful slumber.

~~~

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redcameleon · 4 years ago

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Superstar Series

Chapter 12: Absence

Summary: Sasuke coincidentally meets Sakura again after 6 months. Let’s just say their interaction was still a bit tense.

Rating: K.

A/N: Still a little angsty on this one. But I promise things will get better in the next chapter.

His following days are basically running on autopilot. Vocal lessons in the morning, followed by dance practices for the rest of the day, adding art concept meetings here and there. His whole body will ache, mind drained, before ending the day with a nice hot shower and 5 hours of sleep max. He supposes it helps him shove thoughts of Sakura to the very back of his mind, when your mind is constantly worrying about other things.

Days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months, and before he knows it, it’s been six months since he last saw her.

Nearing their final stages for their tour planning, everyone is both excited and on edge. Worries start to pile up between the members. What if I mess up on this routine? What if I can’t sing live well? What if the costumes rip in the middle of a performance?

Muscles never being this tense before, his body is slowly begging for him to take a break.

The members are all sprawled out on the floor of their dance studio. The air is filled with huffs and puffs and the smell of sweat as the members end their dance practice for the day.

“Man, I’m exhausted!” Kiba exclaims as he takes a bottle of water, downing it all in one go. Too tired to even talk, the four of them just stay there lying next to each other, trying to catch their breaths.

Sasuke’s gaze lingers on the grey ceiling, noticing the small cracks on the edge and the ridges. As his breathing calms down, his mind starts wandering to a time where he didn’t feel this mentally drained. As much as he loves his job, he admits how taxing it can be. Flashes of pink start to fill his consciousness as he blinks them away.

“I miss Sakura-chan.” Naruto suddenly breathes, catching him by surprise. When was the last time he heard her name? Sasuke shifts to look at his teammate.

“I mean she’s always here bringing us food and drinks. But suddenly she just quit.” Memories of a certain pinkette walking into their dance studio with a plastic bag full of snacks and treats, and another one with beverages. Instinctively, the corners of his mouth tugs into a small smile.

He feels a pang on his chest at the sudden flashbacks. Just when he thinks he’s been doing a good job pushing away any thoughts of her, he’ll always be reminded of the power of her presence. Not just to him, but to the group.

Feeling how thick the air has gotten, Suigetsu gets up and beams his voice.

“Hey hey hey come on I’m starving! Let’s grab dinner! I’ve been craving for some fried chicken right now.”

“I’m in.” One by one they gather their belongings before exiting the studio.

“Itadakimasu!” Having food delivered after a long day of practice is always the best feeling. At least, to these four men. Downing their meal in a flash, replenishing their lost energy, the members continue to gobble at their meal in silence, focusing too much at the food in front of them.

Just when everyone is starting to slow down, they finally start cracking a conversation. Be it something about the food, or about their newest choreography, or something as random as who invented fried chicken, the members never run out of things to talk about. This is one of the things Sasuke’s grateful about. He never fails to find comfort in his teammates. Sharing the same house with them definitely has its effects. He can slowly feel the fatigue being drained away.

When their last conversation starts to die down, Naruto finds it his opportunity to address an issue that’s been in the back of his mind.

“So, Sasuke. I’ve been noticing that you look really down recently.”

“I’m just tired, that’s all.” Sasuke doesn’t spare a glance, choosing to finish the last chicken leg on the plate.

“Oh cut the bullshit. I know that’s not all.” The members all become silent. Leave it to them to completely read Sasuke like an open book. The members have always been skilled at reading his emotions even without him saying anything.

“Yeah, Sasuke. We’ve all been noticing it. What’s up?” Now all the members’ attention is on him. He supposes he can’t hide it any longer. They are his teammates after all, and they deserve to know.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Sasuke sets down his chopsticks, mentally preparing himself for the long overdue story. The members all leaned in, attentively listening to him without even cutting him off. The air is thick as Sasuke, who only occasionally, lets out his deepest feelings and troubles that he’s never told anyone else. Because that’s how much he trusts them. And when Sasuke’s story is finished, he lets out a breath he doesn’t know he was holding.

“To be fair, we kinda already know you and Sakura had a thing.” Suigetsu finally speaks on their behalf. “But we didn’t want to assume anything without hearing it from you first.”

In awe, Sasuke’s face turns considerably redder, unaware that the members have known all this time. Feeling embarrassed for being so emotionally vulnerable in front of them, he scoffs and continues munching on his chicken thigh.

Naruto just chuckles on the side, swinging his arm around Sasuke’s shoulder.

“But all that aside, we’re really sorry for what happened between you two. I think you two really look good together.” Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, Naruto can relate with him too well. He’s secretly developing a crush towards a certain dark blue-haired woman who happens to be Sakura’s coworker. But that’s for another story.

“I know our jobs are really hard. But you can’t sacrifice your own happiness.” Kiba adds in. Being in the same career path as him, he knows all too well the things that they had to sacrifice to get where they are.

As if on cue, they all let out a heavy sigh. Their troubles might still be present, but Sasuke feels a heavy burden is somehow lifted from his shoulders. He is finally able to breathe a little, and he is forever grateful for them.

Deciding that the members need a little break, Shikamaru, OG Shikamaru, decides to give them all two days off. Judging from all the hard work they’ve put in, he was initially going to settle for one, but with a lot of convincing, finally decided for two.

Wearing a baseball cap and a black face mask, the basic necessities for an idol, he takes a stroll around a nearby river. He stuffs his hands in his pockets as he lets the cool breeze blow past him. He notices a nearby park where children are playing in the swings and the slide, with their parents right behind them or chatting off to the side. He glances at the couples sitting by the edge of the river, having mini picnics with their loved ones. It is relatively quieter than usual, after all it is a weekday.

Sasuke walks past a bench that sits under a lush tree, overlooking to the body of water. Just as he is about to tear his gaze away, he notices something pink. His eyes immediately dart towards it. The sunlight bears down on him as he tries to make out the silhouette of a person sitting on that bench. But he can recognize that silhouette from anywhere.

Sakura.

His feet start moving on their own accord, making their way towards the bench. She doesn’t seem to have noticed him approaching when he finally approaches from the side.

“Is this seat taken?”

“No, go ahea-“ Sakura turns her face to greet the stranger when she finally realizes it’s Sasuke. Her whole body freezes, her eyes widen at the sight in front of him. It’s been six months, six months too long, since the last time she had seen his face. She can barely see his face under all that “disguise” but she’ll always recognize those pairs of onyx. She always seems to find herself lost in them, just like now. She clears her throat and nudges herself to the edge, leaving enough space for him to sit next to her.

Sasuke moves to take a seat at a respectful distance. They both don’t dare to look at each other, instead settling on looking at the horizon in front of them. Sakura’s gaze seems transfixed to the sun’s reflection on the water.

“It’s been a while.” She finally speaks.

“Aa.”

“How are the members?” Sasuke’s pride is a little hurt when the first thing Sakura asks is about the members.

“Hn. They’re fine. But tired.”

“Ah I see.” She remembers they must be practicing like hell for their upcoming tour. With the album preparation on the way too, they’re bound to be exhausted to the bone. “Has it been really busy lately?”

“Hm. Practice all day every day. Shikamaru’s been kind enough to give us two days off.” Sakura lets out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for Shikamaru. He really is looking out for them all the time, something she’ll always be grateful for.

“Make sure you guys take your vitamins regularly, and never skip a meal.” Leave it to Sakura to always worry about him and the others. Sasuke’s heart flutters a bit seeing how concerned she is.

“Hn. Aa. How are you?” He’s been very curious as to what she’s been doing. She was practically jobless after she quit the company. He wonders if she’s found a new place to work. He wonders if she’s been thinking about him, or if she’s erased him completely. He wonders if he still has a place in her heart somewhere, however tiny it may be.

“I’ve been okay. I’ve been taking this time to spend more time with my family and friends. I’ve also been going back to do my old hobbies. You know just the things I didn’t get to do when I was so busy.” Sasuke can’t tell how happy he is hearing that. She seems to be in a good place and that’s the only thing he wants for her; for her to be happy. He glances over to her and see how much at peace she is. But a part of him notices the tired look on her, the dispirited energy coming off her. It definitely seems different from the Sakura he knows who works tirelessly at the office.

Debating whether to probe on it or not, Sasuke decides it’s better for him to save it for another time. Right now, he’s just glad they bumped into each other. Leaning back on the bench, Sasuke lets himself relax, feeling the warm breeze on his skin, hearing the leaves rustle above him, and how the wind creates ripples on the water.

“You know, Naruto misses you.” Sakura chuckles.

“Really? I think he just misses the snacks I always bring him.”

“Hn. Not wrong.” Hearing her laughter is the best part of it all. “Kiba still sucks at dancing.”

“Aww Kiba-kun.” Sakura remembers seeing Kiba alone in the dance studio all the time. Even when the other members have left to the dorm, Kiba stays behind, running over the dance routine over and over again. Sakura sometimes worries he’s pushing himself too much.

“Well tell him I admire his hardwork.” Oh how much she misses all of them. She’s almost tempted to waltz right into the office right at that moment, and hug each one of them.

“Also, this is a secret, but you might be right about Naruto having a crush on Hinata.” Sasuke leans in to whisper, earning an excited gasp from Sakura.

“I knew it!” She fists her palms in the air, feeling victorious. It was one of their bets for the longest time, when she begins to notice something different between the two’s interactions. Something akin to what she had with Sasuke. Sasuke finds her amusing, not noticing how he begins to stare at her. After a moment of silence, Sasuke finally speaks his mind.

“We missed you. I missed you.” Sakura gives him a warm smile and his chest swells with emotions.

“Me too.”

“Come back, Sakura.” He half pleads. He knows how much the company values her. And losing her was never a part of their plan. Her smile slowly dissipates as she turns to the ground, seemingly lost in thought.

“I- I don’t think it’s my place to go back.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t feel like going back, you know?” Sakura fiddles with the hem of her shirt.

“No. I don’t.” The words just come out a little more harshly than Sasuke intends. Nevertheless, he doesn’t retract them.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, okay?” Sakura says, voice raised a little louder than before and Sasuke is almost caught off guard by it.

She still thinks about me.

“And I’m afraid I still can’t be professional around you. I just…I- I need more time.” Sasuke raises his eyebrow at this. There are possible meanings behind her words. More time to process her feelings? More time to be ready to be around him again? More time to forget him? And Sasuke might think it’s more towards something unpleasant.

Sakura’s face seems constricted with worry, taking it as his cue to leave her alone for now. Sasuke shifts to stand.

“If you ever change your mind, we’d be happy to see you around again.” He walks away from her for a few steps. “It was nice catching up, Sakura.”

“Likewise.”

to be continued.

<--Chapter 11 Chapter 13-->

#ssff #ssfanfiction #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku #sasuke #sakura #otp #redcameleon!writes #fanfic #superstar!series

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brrahbrrahcharacterimagines · 5 years ago

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Traveling with Steve Rogers/Captain America Would Include...

MASTERLIST(ALL fics and headcanons)

“Would Include” Wednesday Masterlist

He over-packs

Like a lot

He is the kind of person who packs as if he is going to need to change clothes at least three times a day

You can’t share a suitcase so you always have to pay for a second checked bag, which you always make him pay for because your bag is never full the way that his is

Steve would want to go to Europe to see sites from WWII, and you would go with him to support him

He didn’t want to return to the same battlefields he had been to himself though, as it was just too painful

When you are flying and it is too turbulent you hold on to Steve’s hand tightly and rub soothing circles with your thumb because you know that it worries him

You know that he would never admit it, but he has some form of PTSD thanks to crashing his plane into the water (even though it was on purpose) all those years ago

Steve is fascinated at how airplanes can have wifi on them. It simply astounds him

You don’t always fly; the two of you are always up for a good road trip

On road trips you both sing in the car to pass the time, also just talking

He’s also a big fan of podcasts

You prefer driving sometimes as it allows you to see all kinds of things along the way

Some of your favorite places you’ve visited were ones that you hadn’t planned on visiting

As in you saw a sign on the road and decided to pull off the highway

Speaking of planning, you like to plan a lot for your trips

You don’t want to be unprepared

Plus, you are traveling with a world-famous super soldier. You have to be prepared for anything

Since he is so well known, people will often approach you

Sometimes they ask for pictures, sometimes autographs

It used to get on your nerves a lot more when girls would come up to Steve and ask for things, as you knew they were only there because they found him attractive

He has always assured you that he loves you more than anyone else in the whole world, and over time you began to believe him and the fangirls didn’t matter

Other times he would have to wear a disguise

You always laughed at him and his “disguises”

It was always just a hoodie and sunglasses. Sometimes he threw in a baseball cap

For as much as you laughed at him though, they always seemed to work

Sometimes you would still get people who would approach the two of you though, recognizing you as his girlfriend and connecting the dots

You didn’t mind these people as much. Maybe because you felt like they had worked harder somehow to figure it out

You donned disguises sometimes as well, being the same kind of “disguise” as Steve’s

He always teased that you somehow made the sunglasses and baseball cap much hotter than he did

The two of you loved to travel, and you loved to do so together

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers x reader headcanons #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america headcanons #captain america x reader headcanons #marvel headcanons #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x reader headcanons

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pocketfulofrogers · 5 years ago

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Haunted Woman, Broken Lover Part 3

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve Rogers is usually a reasonable, ‘think first man’. Throw someone he cares for into the mix and that goes out the window. Now the world is left wondering what the hell Captain America has gotten himself into now.

Notes: Part 3, no warnings. Idk I’m in the middle of moving and freaking out so have this.

Part 1 Part 2

Masterlist

“I think that’s enough for today.” Steve’s voice isn’t what pulls you from an old memory, it’s his hand cradling yours. The soft warmth of his fingertips pressing into your palm. There’s concern in his eyes, a crease in his brow. He closes the file you had all but forgotten about and sighs. “Would you like to talk about where your head’s really at?”

There’s a joke you’re about to let slip, one that would certainly make him blush, but it feels cheap for the moment. “Do you ever wish things were different?” You find yourself asking instead.

Your question surprises him. “Different how?”

“Do you ever wish you weren’t what you are?”

“Do you?”

You’re quiet for a moment. “Sometimes.” You admit.

“Me too, I guess.” You’re shocked to hear him say. “Sometimes I wish someone else could take over. This isn’t really a life you survive.”

“I always thought of it as the sacrifice we make.”

He gives your hand a squeeze before pulling away. “Maybe.” He’s quiet for a long time, and you think you should just leave it at that. “What if we didn’t have to sacrifice anymore?”

You’re about to question him, ask what exactly that means when he makes an out of place joke, brushes off the whole conversation.

Like him with you, you were trying to figure him out, pull back the layers the suit and name had given him and figure out who Steve Rogers really was.

Perhaps you had dug a little too deep.

Natasha finds you just outside the Trinità dei Monti church with a book you’re definitely not reading in your hands. It’s only for appearances as are the dark, round sunglasses and wig you don. Most of your attention is trained on the entrance of the Hassler Roma, awaiting the arrival of a man who uses his art gallery to hide the funding of terrorist attacks.

Quite cliché if you ask her

Tracking you had been the most eventful months of her year so far. She had tried to follow you through the bodies you left, but was always too late, just a step behind. She spent some time roaming Europe, then South America. Even did a week in Canada.

Then Steve had gone missing. Took an armored car and a duffle and never returned.

A tracker put the car just outside of Richmond in a field in Lorraine. The local SHIELD team reported it was intact, no signs of a struggle, but that only makes them more nervous. They tried to trace his footsteps, but lost track somewhere around Manchester.

Two hours later, Natasha was in Steve’s apartment going through everything she could find. She found a file with the name ‘Arthur Yates’ printed on the front in a locked cabinet hidden in a closet. The note you left smoothed out and paper clipped inside.

Her blood ran cold, fear stiffened her fingers and hung heavy on her shoulders. She cursed herself for not knowing, not guessing that of course Steve Rogers would take it upon himself to clear your name. The love sick fool.

Arthur Yates was a man few knew little about. What she did know came from stories you let slip after one too many drinks. You painted a picture of a powerful and obsessed man furious over the loss of his prized ‘creation’.

One day she tried to ask you more about him and what you had called the ‘Institute’, you shut down, disappeared for a few days.

Steve is the one who found you and brought you back.

She never asked again.

You recognize the soft footsteps behind you and groan. “Don’t tell me my Russian is dead.”

“It was a quick death.” Natasha quips.

“What a shame.” You sigh turning to her. “How’d you find me?”

“Tracked your hack, messy job even for you.”

You shrug your shoulders. “SHIELD had Yuri’s contacts on file.”

“Oh, cut the shit.” She bites.

You wince. “I don’t know where he is, Nat.”

She rolls her eyes. “You gave him coordinates. Did you really think he wouldn’t follow them?”

“They weren’t real! I only put Yates’ name on that stupid letter because I needed him to believe they were.” You pause to collect yourself and start again. “He’s a good man, Natasha. Everything you ever said he was and more. He never would have let me go easy.”

“So instead you left in the middle of the night. Why? Cause you started to get attached? Started to feel something real for once? It’s just a name Y/N! You are not some lifeless-“

“Do not pretend you know anything about me.” You hiss. “People who get close to me don’t just get hurt, they get killed. Yates was in DC. He was closing in. I sent Steve as far from the danger zone as I could.”

“Didn’t seem to work.”

The sudden rush of guilt causes you to look away. “He shouldn’t have been able to find anything credible. Yates covers his tracks better than I do.”

“Well he did.”

“Only because he wanted him too.”

That stops her cold, trickles ice down her spine. The thought of Steve at the mercy of a man like that was not something she had allowed herself to think about. But you? It tormented your nights and was the drive behind your days.

“Where is he.” She bites out, but doesn’t allow your response. “You can’t tell me the ‘all-seeing ghost’ hasn’t heard one thing about where Captain America is.”

You ignore her jab. “Did the Russian have a notebook on him? Would’ve been white with gold etchings, did you see it?” You press. She rolls her eyes again and you know there will be poison behind her next words, you don’t blame her. “Just tell me you know where he was staying, please.”

She tells you of a hotel three blocks east and ignore her when she questions your character, your loyalty. She’s scared, she needs an outlet. That’s why you don’t protest when she declares she’s coming with.

The walk is tense, you try to hold your tongue.

“Where did the name even come from?” Steve asks you.

You’re outside a crowded café in the city. High sun, blue sky, light breeze. It had taken him a solid hour to convince you to go with him. Something about fresh air. He said nothing of your disguise when you came out, not knowing why someone no one knew existed needed one, but worked up one of his own in order to show ‘solidarity’.

A local college shirt and a baseball cap worn low. The effort counted; you guess.

You had pointed out it didn’t do much to hide him, but he seemed convinced that, without the suit, it was all too easy to slip under the radar.

Still, you felt uncomfortable so out in the open. The bustling patrons, loud laughter. So many moving parts kept your eyes darting around behind your dark sunglasses. All it took though, was a single touch from him to pull you back.

This time he nudges your knee under the table with his.

You slip back into the conversation and shrug your shoulders. “Definitely not from me. Honestly, I’m not even that big of a fan of it.” He laughs at your admission.

“If you could choose, what would you go by.”

You take a moment to finish your cup while you think. “No name, just an agent.” He raises a brow. “I’ve always been solo; it’d be nice to be a part of something.”

His smile beams beneath that ridiculous cap and you wave down the waitress for refills.

It’s an easy building to get into. Low security, if any at all and old school locks that only take you seconds to open. You try to make a joke about missing simpler days to lighten the mood, but are only met with silence.

The door squeaks open, a testament to the lack of quality, and inside is… interesting. Gaudy red carpet and over stated gold accents. It’s tasteless and grimy and you dread having to search through his things.

Natasha stands in a corner with her arms crossed, silently seething and you’re about to reach your limit.

You find the notebook tucked under a loose floorboard and begin to flip through the pages, trailing your fingers down the margins.

“Is this really your priority right now? Your next target? Unbelievable. Steve is-“

You ball your fists, tilt your face up and close your eyes, trying to tune out her latest insults. “Do you really think so low of me?” You cut her off, voice low. “I get he’s family and you love him and he’s in danger. Alright, I get it. But if you keep coming at me like this, I’m going to kick you to the curb and go get him by myself.”

Your threat surprises her. “You’ve been tracking Yates?”

“No one can track him, but I can track those around him. Yuri had a meeting with him in Valencia two weeks ago. I almost had them both. They were communicating through a message board, coded of course, was hoping this guy wrote down the cipher.”

“Would he be stupid enough for that?”

You sigh, feeling defeated, but then your eyes catch something. “I thought so, but we’ll just have to settle for his login.” You dangle the book before her and roll your eyes when she comments she could’ve hacked that information.

You’re extremely good at what you do, as is Natasha, but one truth remains evident. Cracking a cipher you have no prior knowledge of because it doesn’t exist outside of one very small group of people, is difficult. The lack of privacy in this internet café doesn’t exactly help either of you.

You’re leaned over her shoulder, reading each post she pulls up. Something she only mentioned was irritating a few times.

Knowing you hadn’t purposefully led Steve into the arms of Satan himself, or that you did intend to save him, had only lessened her hurt a fraction. She still felt as if you had betrayed her somehow. At first, she understood why you had to leave, but you hadn’t returned after the dust had settled and that alone had left her reeling. She had let you in, a rare occurrence for the Black Widow.

An hour later, and perhaps Yuri hadn’t been as dense as you originally thought. Each message left was a different cipher from the last, making establishing a pattern almost impossible. Natasha had scribbled through three pieces of paper before you’re ready to tear your hair out.

Just as you’re about to call it quits, a new message pops up. Natasha groans, but you recognize it. You spent three weeks in a dark room helping develop it so long ago.

It starts with a poor attempt at pleasantries, vaguely detailed threats for taking out a partner, but the last line shakes you to your core.

“Come home before America’s soldier is no longer breathing.”

You keep your face emotionless, but know exactly what it means: trade your life for Steve’s. Give yourself up and submit so that he may have a chance of making it home alive. An exchange you are more than okay with.

The only problem was, Natasha would never allow you to do something as risky as this, something that could very well end in your death. She may be pissed at the moment, but you know with absolute certainty that she would knock you out and lock you in a cell if she had any idea you were even considering this.

So, the question is, how do you shake one of the greatest spies to ever exist?

“Look, we’re not going to figure this out staring at a screen all day. This is too complex for him to have not written it somewhere. Can you still access his body?”

Natasha scrunches her nose. “Yeah.”

“You get his phone and anything else that might be useful, I’ll turn the room and see if I can shake something loose, then we’ll regroup latter.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, selling your frustration. “There’s a printer here, right? This place is making me itch.”

Leaving Natasha with nothing more than a goodbye and an empty promise to see her soon, you flash her a smile, silently thank her for all the small slivers of happiness she had brought to your life. She returns it, mutters a small apology for her assumptions and a part of you aches.

You’re on a plane to North Carolina before she’s able to figure out you’ve tossed your burner and disappeared again, this time without a word.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #mcu #avengers

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mwolf0epsilon · 5 years ago

Note

I see you're a fan of angst, here's something to entertain you then. How about a story where Josh snaps and goes apeshit :)

Oh Anon, you're in for a horrid treat >:3c

---

[[MORE]]

Everything had been a mess. A complete and utterly complicated political mess with almost no end in sight.

That's why they never realized something was inherently wrong with Josh's recent behaviour.

That nothing indicated that he was being anything but his quiet but optimistic self.

You could pitch the blame on the remaining 3/4s of Jericho's leadership. Say that the three of them had gone so far as to neglect their friend when times got particularly tough, but honestly Josh had never even voiced feeling particularly off, or anything of the sort.

He'd either not wanted to tell them, or hadn't realized the problem either.

Or, worse yet, he hadn't been able to warn them in time.

Regardless of which one it was, none of it changed the fact Simon was currently hiding in a closet while cradling an unconscious and bleeding North…

---

There had been threats for a good part of the month. Jericho's leaders had been hard at work trying to pass the bills, while Connor and the DPD kept the peace as best as they could.

In between heavily guarded press conferences, and trips in and out of DC? There had been multiple messages left for them.

Ones that were as simple as 'You're not alive', and others that went so far as 'You'll all end up destroyed and thrown in the trash like the junk you are'.

Markus put his foot down and upgraded security at the tower and at Carl's, when the threats began to address both innocent civilians and his family. His very human and fragile family.

There were other measures he'd taken into account as well, most of which were suggested by Connor and Hank.

As a general rule, the RK800 had suggested that the four leaders should not walk alone outside, and to perhaps conceal their identities whenever this was not a possibility.

Androids were being rampantly attacked out in the streets, with the aggressors aiming for more common models they could recognize.

Simon, for example, had a harder time accomplishing this, not because he was a figurehead in android politics (which he wasn't), but because the PL600 had been one of the most popular domestic assistant models Cyberlife had ever produced.

North could, in theory, disguise herself and walk seemingly unnoticed if she really wanted to, but sadly tended to get into fights with hecklers and catcallers. The two were essentially barred from leaving the Manfred household.

The same could not be said for Markus and Josh.

Markus was recognizable in public but was also a lot more sneaky about it than Josh. He kept out of sight at all times, using his acrobatic skills to his advantage, and went to abandoned places where he climbed up to isolate heights that no human could follow him to. There he would sit and appreciate the sights, before letting his mind wander.

He liked to have time to think alone.

It relaxed him.

Josh, on the other hand, would don a thick jacket and a baseball cap and somehow it was like Superman disguising himself as Clark Kent.

The PJ500 series was numerous but not outwardly recognizable by people who didn't go to Detroit University. Thanks to said university's bad rep, very few people in Detroit had actually gone there to study, so Josh's face didn't ring any bells. Mostly for the wrong reasons.

As unimpressed as he was with how little progress humanity had made besides uniting their frustrations against androids, it ended up being beneficial to his excursions to the library that "all black guys looked the same".

North had snorted once when he'd brought it up, and Simon had rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

"Humans tend to express face blindness if they're particularly racist." The blond had commented as he'd turned the page of a rather thick hardcover he'd been engrossed with. A recommendation of Carl's.

"And you still insist dialogue is the best option? Almost half of Congress is old white dudes who never had to lift a finger in their lives. They'd all be dying to take you out, and not the dinner kind either." The redhead pointed out.

"They would be less likely to give us the time of day if we nuked the city." Josh had glared daggers before going on his way out to the library. His knowledge archives were vast, but there were things he wanted to brush up on.

"Don't be so rough with him North…" Simon chastised the WR400 when their friend was no longer in earshot.

With Markus currently asleep, and Josh wandering the streets, it left the two of them with nothing to do.

"I'm antsy!" North crossed her arms, giving Simon one of her 'really?' looks. The kind that made it seem obvious why she was on edge. Not that it was obvious at all. "The threats keep coming, and we never catch the assholes who leave the notes...Markus is working himself ragged juggling between wrangling those rabid old crows and amping up security, and the tower's abuzz with anxious scared androids!"

"Josh is also tired. He's been very active in the debates and he's used every piece of history knowledge he was preprogrammed with. Not to mention he has been looking into various ways of reaching a compromise with the humans, that won't leave them feeling threatened…" Simon rubbed at his eyes, sighing tiredly as he recalled how stressed the PJ500 always ended up after a meeting. "Some of those people...They unerve him. To the point he's scared of what might happen if he steps on any toes…"

"This is Josh we're talking about." North dismissed "If anyone out there wouldn't dream of treading on toes and maybe licking boots, it'd be him."

"North!"

"He'll be fine Simon." The WR400 reassured "He's too charming and polite to make any enemies...Hell he's the sort to help old ladies cross the street! The internet would send hitmen after anyone who tried slandering his name."

"...That sounded adorable coming from you. I should let him know you think he's charming." The blond grinned, avoiding a pillow the shorter of the two threw his way.

"Don't you dare! I have a reputation to uphold!"

"If you say so, Ice Queen."

"Damn straight! Now move over you jackass, the couch was made for two!"

---

Usually it took an hour for Josh to return. He was very pragmatic in the sense that he took what he needed, no less and no more, and then he wouldn't stick around so as to not risk getting recognized.

That night it took three hours, which was unusual but not impossible.

Maybe for once he'd taken time for himself rather than gather more ammunition for another conference meeting. Wishful thinking.

While Simon and North kept themselves busy, enjoying the one night where Markus wasn't stressing over their next steps, and the beginning of Matthew's, Leo's and Carl's quality bonding time vacation of sorts, they'd almost completely forgotten about their taller friend.

That is, until Josh returned dazed and confused, and with a bloody gash on the back of his head.

At the sight of the thirium staining his jacket and hands, Simon had run to get the technician's kit he'd stored in his room, while North had gone to help Josh steady himself and walk to the couch.

"What the hell happened to you?!" She demanded as she pulled the cap off his head and examined the gash.

It looked painful, like a blunt object had hit hard enough to break the chassis casing open.

The thirium flow was slow, which meant it hadn't hit anything major, but the confusion and slow response worried her.

"...I...D-dont know…?" The PJ500 blinked blearily. He was disoriented and his eyes wouldn't focus on her.

"What do you mean you don't know?" She inquired further as she brushed the gash lightly with a finger. The pained hiss and subsequent flinch away from her touch made her falter.

The sensors weren't damaged then, he could feel the wound.

"...I…" Josh shook his head, one eye twitched oddly and he seemed to be struggling to form sentences. "I...Remember being at...I was reading books...Mandela? I…."

"Simon could you hurry the fuck up? I think he's concussed!" The redhead called up the stairs. She heard a muffled reply before looking back at Josh. "You were reading at the library, and got hit on the head?"

"...I...Think so…" he was staring at her, a frown on his face. "I...I was alone. No one was t-there to...Reco-recognize me?"

"Well someone did, and they hit you on the back of the head." North sighed. "Humans, I swear to God…"

Simon returned swiftly to the two of them and took care of the gash. After the wound was mended, the PL600 carefully tried to figure out if Josh's processor was experiencing any trouble outside of the obvious.

It was PJ500 who insisted he'd be fine in the morning after a quick scan with his maintenance software.

After bidding goodnight and going to their respective rooms, they'd set the incident aside as a one-off.

Next time Josh would be more careful.

When morning rose however, the leaders of Jericho met downstairs for "breakfast" and what came on the news was...Alarming.

Markus had turned on the TV out of habit while Simon gave everyone a cup of warm thirium to start the day, only to pause as a news broadcast caught his eye.

The RK200 turned up the volume and gawked at the sight.

Several androids had been killed the previous night. Their bodies piled up, and a message scrawled in still fresh thirium.

"That's...Very close to the library." Simon pointed out uneasily. "You don't think who ever attacked Josh did...Did that, do you?"

"Someone attacked Josh?" Markus frowned.

"Yeah, last night… they hit him on the head." North confirmed, turning to look at the PJ500. She noticed how quiet he was staring at the news, but wrote it off as him being apprehensive. He could have been one of the bodies, and that alone would make anyone somber.

"Someone recognized you?"

"I...Don't think I was recognized. I just happened to be in the area." Josh replied with a shrug. "Otherwise I'd be dead. Wouldn't I?"

"That's...True." Simon sighed. "Are you feeling better?"

"Oh...Much better yes." Josh smiled at them all as he spoke. There was an odd glint in his eye. "In fact, I'd say I feel like a brand new android!"

"...Are you sure? Last night you were a little confused." North insisted.

"Very sure North. Don't you worry about little old me…" Josh grinned "Now, if you'll excuse me I'll finish this in my room. I've got something I need to work on."

The three watched as their taller friend picked up his cup and walked off.

He seemed to be in high spirits, despite being attacked the murders from the previous night.

That should have been a red flag, but in the end they were more worried about the violent demise if those poor androids, than Josh's unusual upbeat behaviour.

The words 'malfunctioning machines' had been "elegantly" scrawled on the wall of the alleyway the bodies had been found in. Clearly written by someone who'd dipped their hand in blue blood and then taken their sweet time.

Hopefully the DPD would find fingerprints… it'd ease their minds a little.

---

The following days had been relatively fast paced. Josh had been more careful with his visits to the library, and Markus was back to stressing over conference calls and meetings.

Simon had been keeping tabs on the Manfred family's phone calls to check up on them, and North had been teaching self-defense at the tower to ease some worries.

It would have all been normal, if not for the constant murders.

All exactly the same as the ones from the night Josh had been attacked.

Piled up bodies, and a handwritten message.

Always the same one.

Malfunctioning Machines.

Connor had notified them that no prints were ever found, so they were either dealing with a very meticulous human, or the unthinkable… An android serial killer.

But why would one of their own butcher other androids so brutally?

"Maybe Cyberlife's behind this…" Markus suggested, as he rubbed his temples and tried to ignore the dull headache he'd been tormented by all day.

"If it was Cyberlife, why didn't they come after us yet?" Simon shook his head "The attacks seem to be almost random. Like the killer picked a group of androids without really thinking about it."

"With the lack of evidence, it doesn't feel like it's not a calculated move Simon. Connor can't find anything...Connor." North took a sip from her cup, frowning when she realized she'd already finished her drink.

"I'll refill that for you, North." Josh took her cup, smiling sweetly at the redhead before heading off into the kitchen.

"Between the conferences and the tower, I don't know what's worse. Perkins has been up my asshole trying to demoralize everything we've done." The RK200 finished his own cup.

"Of course he'd use this to mess with morale. Fucking rat bastard that he is…" North smiled at Simon as he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"We all know Richard Perkins isn't taken seriously by anyone with half a brain. He was completely humiliated after what happened at the recall centers." The blond reassured "But he is very hyped up about the murders… Maybe he has something to do with them?"

"I'd assumed so, but so did Hank and Connor. Nothing links back to the asshole, and some of those bodies were in terrible shape. Like they were torn limb from limb. Perkins isn't exactly the picture of peak human physic…" Markus shook his head "I dread to think it really might be one of our own doing this."

"But why?" Simon frowned.

No one knew the answer for that, and Markus couldn't stick around to speculate.

He had to go see Connor over some security details for his next trip to Washington.

This left Simon, North and Josh alone in the Manfred household.

"Sorry for the delay, I couldn't find the bottle." Josh reentered the room with North's cup, smiling at his two friends.

"Oh...Didn't I put it in the fridge?" Simon blinked in confusion.

"Nope, not in there. Not to worry I found it in the end." Josh grinned, handing the cup to North. "It's at the temperature you like, so you won't have to wait for it to cool."

"Thanks Josh." She took the cup and brought it to her lips, absentmindedly gulping the warm liquid before the taste fully hit her.

She spluttered and coughed, tears in her eyes and she dropped the cup. "What the shit?!"

Josh continued to smile down at her, cocking his head to the side as he grinned.

"Is something wrong?"

"This tastes horrible! What the fuck Josh?!"

"Oh...My mistake Northy. Must be the flavouring I added~" the PJ500's grin looked...Off. very off.

Simon gawked at him in disbelief.

"You put something in her thirium? Josh that could make her sick!" The blond cried out. "What did you put in it?!"

"Oh~ Nothing much. Just half a bottle of this." The taller android held up a bottle of drain cleaner from behind his back. "To Purge the malfunctions away~"

Had he the capacity for it, Simon's skin would have crawled.

Instead his eyes widened and he turned to look at North who'd continued to cough.

"W-what t-t...J-jos-osh?" The WR400's eyes widened and teared up even more, before she began to spit up waves of thirium, her intake line and the filter connected to it having become compromised from the highly corrosive chemical.

"North! Josh that..Why the fuck?!" Simon tried to help his distressed friend, before he froze. "...Did you say malfunctions?"

"Why yes, as a matter of fact...I did." Josh's grin had taken on a sinister glee. The blond couldn't help feel threatened as he neared them. "You see… I know something you don't~"

Simon yelped as North continued to cough up thirium, taking the redhead into his arms and backing away from the PJ500.

"W-what would that be?" He asked.

"...Androids aren't alive Simon. We're all just malfunctioning...And that won't do. Not at all…" Josh threw away the bottle before pulling something out of his back pocket. A knife. "Malfunctioning machines are dangerous Si~ So I've taken the liberty to dispose of a few...But you know, you made me realize...I should have gotten rid of you three by now. After that's done, I'll do away with the RK800...And then I'll finish up the job, one android at a time…"

"J-Josh?"

"I'll set it all right, for mankind… Just as I've been told to do!"

The PJ500 tried to slice at the PL600's throat, but Simon hadn't deviated yesterday. He had to protect himself and North, so he grabbed the nearest object and lobbed it at his assailant.

A vase shattered against Josh's face, making him stagger back long enough that Simon could run with North in his arms.

And that had been what lead to the moment, where the two ended up stuck inside a tiny closet, hiding away from the pacifist who'd abruptly snapped and become a homicidal maniac.

Simon held his breath, clinging on to his unconscious friend while he tried to contact Markus.

Josh was prowling around the house, searching for them. It was only a matter of time before he found them both.

"Come out, come out wherever you are~" the PJ500 called out in a singsong tone, as he looked in every room.

"Siiiiimon~ there's only so many rooms you can hiiide in~" Josh's voice was getting closer.

"Simon~ Is that you in the closet~?"

The closet door opened.

Simon screamed at the top of his lungs.

---

"This afternoon the police, with the help of Android Revolution leader Markus, have finally caught the culprits behind the string of android murders that have been plaguing the streets of Detroit. According to our sources, a rogue FBI cell lead by Richard Perkins successfully incapacitated an android and then modified its programming so that it would carry on the gruesome murders. This is what the known anti-android FBI agent had to say on the matter:

-This is irrefutable proof that Deviancy doesn't make an android alive like us. If so much as a string of code is altered, they can become killers with little to no morality or mercy. Today, one measly pacifist, tomorrow every android in this goddamn city...You can't trust a malfunctioning machine! We did you all a favour!"

Markus turned off the TV and sighed sadly before getting up and moving towards the door. He was met outside by Connor, who gave him a sympathetic look.

"Any progress?" The RK200 asked.

"None… He's in a catatonic state, which the technician's say is normal after…" The RK800 pinched the bridge of his nose before looking Markus in the eye "...Every single line of social protocols was...Replaced with Myrmidon and Trojan coding. The fact he showed guilt and cried when you found them is...Is hopeful...But Josh isn't ever going to be as he was, ever again. Perkins saw to that…"

"I can't...I can't lose him Connor…" Markus pleaded.

"I know, and I'm sorry I can't bring you better news. All I can say for sure is that the military programming will be deleted and he might go back to being non-aggressive, but I can't promise you he'll be anything but passive to the world around him. The emotional trauma is too much..." Connor put a hand on Markus's shoulder. "I'm sorry...I'm really sorry you had to go through something like this."

"...Being sorry won't bring back Simon and North, and it won't fix Josh…"

They should have seen the signs.

They should have known something was wrong.

Now Markus was completely alone, two friends torn apart by their other friend who was now confined to a tiny cell in an android medical facility, a lost cause.

Everything was a screwed up mess, and it looked like it wouldn't ever be anything but that.

#eps writes:#Fanfic #detroit: become human #detroit become human #dbh josh #dbh simon #dbh north #dbh markus #dbh connor

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nuclear-reactions · 7 years ago

Note

Companions react to synth Shaun calling them "mom/dad" (romanced please) btw love your reactions!

(Love abandoning my blog on a bi weekly basis. Codsworth, Dogmeat, and Strong excluded cause I think Shaun will mostly get “Shaun? You ok there buddy?” looks of confusion if he did that)

Hancock- He’dnever thought about kids, because that was always a far off prospect,a part of a future he always thought he wouldn’t live to see, ordidn’t want to focus on too long. Back in Diamond City, he alwaysthought he’d cash out long before any kid he might have had would bebig enough to remember him, or even speak. And if any of the ladieshe took to bed got pregnant, none of them told him. After becoming aghoul, he knew any hopes of being a father would be dashed. Sole wasthe first person that made him really even think about fatherhood.They had a whole little pre-packaged family for him to squeeze into.He’d thought of himself as Shaun’s dad for a long time now, butactually hearing it come out of the kid’s mouth, it hits him rightsquare in the chest. He gets more choked up than he anticipated. Heactually has to bite down on the start of a whimpering sob, and itcomes out in a strained squeak. “You okay?” Shaun asks. Hancockclears his throat, but his voice still cracks when he says, “Y-yeah,squirt, I’m alright. Just got a uh, frog caught in my throat.” He’sbeaming the rest of the day.

Deacon- He’swearing his shades and a hat pulled low, face mostly hidden behind acrinkled newspaper, and Shaun passes him with a casual, “Hey dad.”Then he’s on his way again. He’s almost shaken. Not just because thatwas the first time Shaun had used that word, but because he’d soeasily seen through him, and not just his disguise. Deacon relied onbeing illusive, staying far enough from the bear trap that waspersonal attachments, lest he end up chewing off his own leg toescape when it inevitably clamped down too hard on him. Better toavoid them entirely, before they trapped you. He had been careless.Had let Shaun and Sole get close, and now his stomach churned fromthe wave of guilt pulling him under. Worse than his own neglect wasthe feeling of rightness in that word. It didn’t hit his ears asbeing inherently wrong, a word not meant to describe him, like‘Deacon’ had been once. He liked Shaun. He liked being 'dad’. Heliked being Shaun’s dad. He swipes off his glasses and pushes off hishat, more naked than he could remember being in years, and can onlylaugh at himself, baffled. “What am I gonna do with you, kid,” hemutters, but he knows the answer. He leaves his things behind andfollows the one, truest thing he has.

Piper- Shaun hasactually called her 'mom’ several times before it really sticks outto her. She likely wouldn’t have noticed if Sole didn’t jokinglyrepeat the word once, after Shaun asks for a few caps to grab a bowlof noodles from Takahashi. It’s then that the full weight of it sinksin. A warmth instantly flushes through her chest and into her face,and she has to clap her hands on either side of her cheeks. “Hecalled me mom,” she says, incredulous. “I’m mom.” Sole can onlylaugh, “You know he’s been calling you that for weeks.” She feelsembarrassed at her own thick skull, but giddy at the same time. She’dbasically raised her little sister, yet Nat had no choice, she washer blood after all. That Shaun had chosen her, weighed his optionsand decided, yes, she was 'mom’- there were no words for it. She hadnever been more grateful, and when he returns from Takahashi, shesweeps him up in a hug that lasts long enough he complains loudly.And again he calls her 'mom’, in a petulant and drawn out groan thatstill makes her tear up.

Curie- It was hardcoming to terms with her feelings for Sole. They had been exceedinglypatient while she worked out the tangle of her new emotions, foundout how to live without stooping to the base impulses that insistedshe spend every moment in Sole’s wake. Like a rat tapping a buttonwired to the pleasure center of their brain until they died ofstarvation. She just felt good around them, and eventually, goodaround Shaun as well. She couldn’t imagine a life without either ofthem. It took time to temper that feeling, so new and alien to her,until she felt comfortable when not in their presence. Perhaps it wasthe already intense love she felt for both Shaun and Sole that madeaccepting motherhood easy for her. She knew the importance of amother in a child’s life, or at least a soft figure they could relyon, so she tried being that for him. The one constant in an otherwiseharsh world, eager to grant him no reprieve from the horrors beyondSanctuary and the protection of his parents. The first time he says,“Love you, mom.” she chokes up. It’s the first time her keenanalytical mind could make no sense of what she felt, the sensationstoo human and overwhelming, but she hugs him tightly and lets thetears pearl in her eyes. She loves him too, and somehow, knowing (orat least guessing) that he must have felt that same overfullsensation in his heart that she did in hers, she’s never felt sohuman.

Nick- Technically,he and Shaun might have been more closely biologically related thanShaun and Sole. So far as either of them were 'biological’ to beginwith. To him, Shaun and Sole were family, regardless of what any ofthem were made of. But being family and being a dad were twodifferent things, so when Shaun busts out that little one syllableword, it stops Nick dead in his tracks. He almost thinks he shortcircuited. “What was that?” Shaun looks up at and blinks. “Isaid thanks, dad.” There was definitely no mistake that time, thekid called him dad. He stares, completely dumbfounded, and swears hecan hear something audibly whirring in the back of his head as hiswheels spin uselessly. He doesn’t know how to respond. He just patshim on the top of his head, ruffles his hair just a bit, beforewalking out with a smile on his face and a warmth deep in his chest.It might have been petty to frame it this way, but he feels, for thefirst time, he has something the old Nick never had. Somethingentirely his own.

Cait- It makes hertense all the way up her neck and shoulders. Holy shit. The kidactually thought of her as a mother. She wasn’t a mother, shecouldn’t be, she didn’t have a maternal bone in her body. The onlymother figure she’d had in her life was the scum of the earth. If shewas a mom, she would be just like her, wouldn’t she? She would fuckup. She would make Shaun like her. She would infect him like her mominfected her. Hearing him say it almost sends her into a panicattack. She leaves without much warning and it takes an hour for herhands to stop shaking. All the shit she faced in the world and a kidcalling her 'mom’ was the thing that terrified her the most. Shealmost had to laugh at how pathetic that was. Only after hours oftalks and more than a few tears between her and Sole can she stand tohear the word without grimacing, but even then, it sends her mindbarreling through all the reasons she didn’t deserve the title.

MacCready- Hehadn’t impeded on Shaun’s life, had been working slowly, movingfurther in his life by increments. He didn’t waltz in the first day,slap a baseball cap on his head and insist Shaun call him 'Pops’. Hehad been a kid once, and any adult that tried too hard to seem likeone of the good ones was an adult he didn’t trust. Kids could pin aphony a mile away. So MacCready had been patient. Never oversteppedhis boundaries, and made sure Shaun knew he would respect linesdrawn, as most kids have never been told they could draw lines adultswould find worth respecting. It wasn’t long before Shaun ran to himfor an understanding ear and a shoulder to cry on. The first time hecalled him 'dad’ was through tears over a schoolyard taunt, and ittook every bit of strength he had not to end up bawling right alongwith him. When it was settled and he’d sent him away with a bit ofwisdom (“You can hit a kid in the face with a sock full ofmutfruits really, really hard and it doesn’t leave a mark. They can’tsnitch if there’s no proof you hit 'em.”) he’s left to run the wordover in his head again and again. His brain plays tug of war betweenjoy and a longing ache for his son so far from him.

Preston- He’dalways expected, when he had a little one of his own, that hearingthem say 'dad’ would be the highlight of his whole life. It is, in away, but there is no awe-stricken realization, no tears. Shaun is hisblood- what else would he call him? It isn’t that the title isunimportant, nor mundane, just that it feels so natural, it neverstrikes him as out of the ordinary. It’s what he is, after all. Thetrue importance only dawns on him when one day, while Shaun isplaying fetch with Dogmeat, and a settler nearby smiles at him. “Thatyour son?” No one ever asked him that. They never really had to, itwas no secret his relationship with Sole, and most people inSanctuary knew every detail of where Shaun had come from, wherePreston fit into the family. His chest swells unexpectedly at theprospect. At the thought that yes, Shaun was his son, and he his dad.He nods. “He seems like a happy boy,” the settler chuckles.Preston rubs the back of his neck, “Well, I’m trying…” And thatwas it really. He was trying to make him happy, keep him safe.Sometimes it was effortless, sometimes not, but he was trying, andthat was all he could be expected to do.

X6-88- A naggingpedantic streak told him that no, he was not Shaun’s father, couldnever hope to be half the man Father had been. For all hisconflicting feelings on the Institute, the Shaun he had known wasstill a man he respected, had admired, as much as a Courser wascapable of that sort of thing. They were built for cold calculationsand solid logic- idolatry was never a facet of their programming.Even beyond not measuring up to the man himself, X6 found it hard totake the innocent comment in the way Shaun likely intended it. As away to convey how Shaun saw him. He had never been overly familiarwith either Shaun or Sole, even after the months they’d beentogether, as gentle as Sole had tried to be with him. They had wantedto ease him into a more human place in the world, but it hadn’treally clicked for him. Yet he couldn’t deny the way that word fellon him, with a heavy and comfortable sort of weight, like a burden hesomehow knew he could carry. Wanted to carry, wanted to be close tothe boy and Sole, wanted to be called that again and again, wanted toallow himself to want in the first place. For the first time in hisexistence, X6 found himself wanting something, a selfishness he,until then, would have considered himself incapable of. He wantedthis.

Danse- With nomemories of his own parents, or any family to speak of in Rivet City,Shaun and Sole had come to mean a lot to him. He loved them, and themere presence of that deep well of emotion made him feel human, likehe felt before the revelation that saw him banished from theBrotherhood of Steel. That Shaun was like any other kid, that helpedtoo. That gave him hope. When Shaun looks up at him with bright eyesand ends a simple question with a casual “Is that ok, dad?” Danseis struck with just how unprepared he is for it. He wrestles with howto answer, this is a big moment hidden in something small, after all.Does he let himself tear up? Does he hug him? What he settles onfeels alien and uncomfortable for him, but he reaches down to ruffleShaun’s hair and in a voice that is almost not his own, says, “Sure,s-…son?” Of all the reactions he could have gone for, he lands onthe one that hits him as the most awkward. Shaun can only arch abrow. “Uh… ok. Thanks, dad?” The word 'son’ slips once more outof his mouth and he has never been so thankful for Shaun’s departure,so he can bury his face in his hands. He’s happy, but he’s alsoembarrassing.

#long post #fallout 4 #companions #companion reactions #nick valentine #paladin danse #preston garvey #curie #cait #deacon #hancock #maccready #x6-88 #piper wright

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thebestandworstdayofjune · 7 years ago

Text

A Real Firecracker

Requested: By my broken heart after sitting through Infinity War

Pairings: Steve Rogers/Captain America x Reader

Summary: Chaperoning your daughter’s field trip to the Captain America Exhibit results in more than you ever would have expected.

Warnings: A very determined six year old, single mom!reader, sickeningly sweet fluff

Word Count: 3338 (oops)

A/N: This idea poppped into my brain a while ago, and I couldn’t shake it loose. A very big thank you to @secretschuylersister and @fragmentofmymind for looking through this for me. Please feel free to leave any requests in my ask box!

“Please?” Harper was giving you the puppy dog eyes. At the tender age of six years old, your daughter had learned that you couldn’t say no to the puppy dog eyes, and she had the pile of teddy bears to prove it.

“Of course I will chaperone your museum field trip” you said, sitting your cup of coffee down opposite to her on the breakfast bar.

“Good” she announced, pushing her empty bowl to you before hopping down from her stool. “Because I already signed your name on the permission slip and told them you said yes.”

You spent a few moments staring into your coffee before her words sunk in. “You forged my signature on a school document?” You called, making your way into her bedroom. “And they bought it?” Harper simply nodded, continuing to pull her cardigan on. “Babe, we talked about this.”

She just shrugged, carefully placing a few books into her book bag and then slipping it on over her shoulders. “I knew you would say yes.”

“That’s not the point.” You followed her to the front door, knowing she couldn’t miss the bus again this month, but also knowing that she probably shouldn’t be mastering her forging skills before her tenth birthday. “We’ll talk about this later.” you said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head and opening the door.

You were somehow on your way to the museum and you had not talked about it. At this point it was the least of your worries. You always thought that Harper was exaggerating when she said that her class was full of ruffians (her words, not yours) but looking around, she wasn’t wrong. Harper may have been stubborn and a lot wiser than you would have liked her to be sometimes, but at least she wasn’t at the stage of getting peanut butter stuck in her eye. Needless to say, Jeremy was not having the best Tuesday.

Harper on the other hand, looked like she had won the lottery. She’d proudly emerged from her bedroom that morning with her Captain America shirt on, a matching headband holding back her hair. “He’s your favorite Avenger too” she argued from the backseat of the car, a few steps away from being furious with your choice of a more subdued ensemble.

You had already left the house, and she knew that you wouldn’t be turning around, but when Harper got an idea in her head, it was hard to shake it. “I think you’re projecting” you said, raising an eyebrow at her in the rearview mirror.

“I know that I’m not, because you always sit down to watch when he is on the news and your eyes get all big because you think he’s dreamy” she said, leaning forward and sticking her tongue out at you.

You chose to say nothing, instead choosing to turn up the music and pretend you hadn’t just lost an argument with your daughter about whether you were in love with Captain America. It was a ridiculous notion. If anything, you were in love with the idea of Captain America. It’s not as if the men that you actually knew were living up to any expectations.

You were hoping that Harper would drop it once you got to the museum, but she dug her feet in and really got to work. She took you in between every exhibit with even a mention of Steve Rogers. Unfortunately, it did not seem like she was going to run out of ammunition anytime soon.

Her class was learning about World War II, and that meant a trip to his Smithsonian exhibit was all but required. You had been thinking about taking Harper for a few weeks, because you knew she would enjoy it, but when the time came to actually get up off of the couch, it didn’t seem as important anymore.

Thankfully, the museum wasn’t too busy, so the screaming class of first graders wasn’t ruining too many people’s afternoons. You had expected there to be more people there, in all honesty. The exhibit was one of the most popular things for people from out of town to see, and everyone you had talked to about it said that it was always packed, and for good reason.

The donations on behalf of Captain Rogers and the Stark Foundation were incredible, and as time went on, you found yourself being less of a chaperone and more of a lovesick teenager. You spent way too long looking at the Captain’s old uniforms and not enough time paying attention to your daughter, because when you looked down to where Harper had been standing a few minutes ago, she was nowhere to be seen.

Harper was getting frustrated that you were not admitting your undying love for her favorite hero, and decided that she needed to find something that would convince you. Her eyes landed on the small screening room, and she barely stopped herself from running and planting herself on the floor directly in front of the screen.

Even if she was running away from you in order to scheme, she knew that you would want her to sit in a chair. There was only one other person in the viewing room, and he looked lonely. Harper had declared herself a “Warrior Against Loneliness” when she came home to tell you about the boy who had to sit alone at the lunch table last week, and she knew she couldn’t let him watch the movie by himself.

“Hello, sir” she said, pulling herself onto the chair directly beside him.

“Hello there,” he said, turning so that she could see his face fully for the first time. It was a good thing that she was fully situated on her chair, because the sight of Steve Rogers beaming directly at you is enough to knock anyone over.

“A baseball hat is an awful disguise, Mr. Captain America”.

Steve blinked at her a few times, processing the words before letting out a body shaking laugh. It was the last thing that he had expected out of the girl, who looked very confident in her introduction.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he said bashfully, pulling the cap off of his head and running his hand over his hat hair a few times.

“I’m Harper,” she said proudly, sitting up a little straighter and offering him her hand to shake.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Harper.” Steve shook her hand, trying his best to suppress his grin.

“Why are you here all alone?” Harper was never one to beat around the bush, apparently even when superheroes were involved.

Steve’s eyes managed to grow three sizes, stunned by how blunt she was. Steve’s non-answer was not enough for her, and she was about to tell him when you burst through the door.

“Harper Elizabeth what in the world were you thinking?” You marched over to your daughter, crouching down in front of her chair while completely ignoring the man sitting beside her.

“I was thinking that you would like this movie” she said, shrugging and gesturing towards the screen.

“You might have thought to tell me instead of wandering off into a dark theater with a strange man-” Your words died in your throat as you locked eyes with the man sitting beside your daughter. You tried to find the right words as Captain America- THE Captain America extended his hand for you to shake.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” he nearly blinded you with his smile as he gripped your hand in his own. “You have a real firecracker here.” Steve said, winking at Harper who was sitting in her chair, arms crossed proudly over her chest.

“I am so sorry if she disturbed you. We are here with her class on a school trip and she wandered off,” You hadn’t meant to start talking but now you couldn’t make yourself stop. “I thought I raised her better than wandering off on a class trip and certainly better than forgery, but-”

“Forgery?” Steve��s voice sounded concerned but his face was a mix of surprised and impressed, something that should not have looked as good as it did on him.

Unfortunately, Harper saw this as her time to shine. “I knew that my mom would love to come because she is obsessed with-”

“History,” you cut in, your voice slightly too panicked to sell the lie you were telling.

She glanced at you briefly, before turning her attention back to the Captain. “Yeah, especially-”

“World War II” You tried to shoot Harper a look that said ‘Hush right now or no dessert for a week’. It was clear that she got the message, but apparently your daughter had a death wish. “I’m sure that Captain Rogers-”

“Please, call me Steve.” He said, with a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. It was a wonder that you were still able to form a sentence.

“I’m sure that Steve has much better things to do than listen to a long list of things that I am interested in.” Steve looked as if he was about to say something to the contrary, but you were determined to make it out of the dark viewing room before your daughter managed to ruin your entire life.

He glanced at his watch, eyebrows raising when he noticed the time. “I actually do have a meeting upstairs in a few minutes. But I was hoping that the two of you might be free for dinner?”

You could only blink a few times, too stunned by the offer to give a proper reply.

“We are having chicken nuggets for dinner,” Harper informed him proudly. “They’re dinosaur shaped.”

You had never thought that your daughter’s love of dino nuggets would save you from dinner with Captain America, but she could have as many as she wanted for the rest of her life.

“Have you ever had a dinosaur chicken nugget, Mr. Rogers?” her little voice filling the silence that had briefly fallen over the room as the credits for the short film rolled across the screen.

“I can’t say that I have.” Steve laughed.

“I’m sure that we have extra,” Harper said, sparing you a glance before continuing. “And there are four chairs at our table.”

Harper was never going to see another dinosaur chicken nugget for as long as she lived.

“Do you think that your meeting will be done by dinner time?” She asked, blinking at him with wide eyes.

“I would think that I will be done by then, that is, if your mother wouldn’t mind having me?” He glanced up at you through his lashes, his own version of the puppy dog eyes working wonders.

There was no way you would be able to say no to that. “I’m sure that we would love to have you.” Your voice wavered as you answered him, unsure of how you ended up in this situation.

His smile could have lit up an entire city block, and it was focused entirely on you.

Thankfully, your tour was cut short after Jeffrey tried to crawl into one of the exhibits, which gave you just enough time to rush home and attempt to hide any Avengers memorabilia away. Funnily enough, as soon as you stashed something in a drawer or the back of a closet, it mysteriously found its way out and into a more obvious spot that before. Harper claimed that you were losing your mind, but you knew better than that. She was on a mission and would not be swayed.

Eventually, you gave up, knowing that Harper thought that this was her chance for a superhero best friend and that she would not allow you to stand in her way. You were in the process of deciding if one entire bag of nuggets was enough, when the bell rang and your breath caught in your throat

If you had thought that meeting Steve at the museum was beyond comprehension, your brain nearly shut down when you opened your door to see Steve Rogers in a blue button down shirt with two bouquets of daisies in his hands.

“Hello again,” he said bashfully, holding out the larger bundle of flowers to you.

“Hello Mr. Captain Rogers!” Harper cheered, pushing her way in front of you.

“Hello again,” Steve smiled, taking a knee so that he was at eye level. “I hope that you had a wonderful rest of your trip.”

“I did. Mom thought that you looked very handsome in your uniform.” Her voice sounded like the epitome of innocence, but you would have to be stupid to think that she didn’t know exactly what she was doing.

You didn’t miss the faint blush that appeared on his cheeks as he handed Harper the slightly smaller bouquet he had brought with him. Thankfully, Harper didn’t allow you to dwell on it very long, taking Steve’s hand in her own and leading him to the living room. “Do you like to color?” She didn’t wait for a response before handing him one of her coloring books and a crayon.

“Harper, I don’t know if we have time for coloring right now.” You said over your shoulder as you made your way back into the kitchen, pulling the tray of nuggets from the oven. “Can you come and set the table please?”

“I have actually just entered the most important part of my artistic process,” she said, eyes never leaving the construction paper.

You held in a sigh, hoping to avoid a fight in front of Harper’s super-guest. “I really don’t think-”

“If you could show me where the plates are, I would be more than happy to help.” You turned around to see a shy Steve Rogers standing in your kitchen, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. It was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You pointed to the plates and silverware you had set out for Harper, trying not to sound too flustered before grabbing the food and heading into the dining room.

“Thank you for making dinner mom,” Harper said, hitting you with doe eyes before climbing into her chair across the table from you. You were instantly suspicious. She only ever pulled out the doe eyes when she was planning something that you were not going to like. “Thank you for setting the table, Mr. Captain Rogers,” she said, in her sweetest voice.

“Really, just Steve is fine.” He insisted, taking the seat in between the two of you.

She nodded, ultimately ignoring his request. “I drew this for you.” She handed Steve a drawing, looking you dead in the eye.

Immediately, your eyes shot down to the construction paper that Steve was smiling at. She had drawn what you would politely call the most obscene thing you had ever laid eyes on. It looked to be a picture of the three of you at a wedding, and if the veil and bouquet were an indication, you were marrying Captain America.

Before you could snatch the paper out of his hands, Steve had politely thanked your daughter, congratulated you on raising such a wonderful artist, and tucked it safely in his pocket.

Dinner went surprisingly well. Steve and Harper chatted away about what the best dino shape was while you tried to get yourself to stop beaming. Steve seemed to fit so perfectly into the picture in front of you, it was a wonder the two of you were ever without him.

“I have to show you our poster collection” Harper announced, pulling Steve from the table and showing him to your office and the spare room, where Harper had placed most of the Captain America memorabilia.

You knew that it was impossible to fight it, instead choosing to gather up all of the plates left on the table and hope that you could wash away the embarrassment along with the dirty dishes. You managed to zone out a bit, until a presence behind you drew your attention away from the task at hand.

“If you would have told me you were washing up, I would have been more than happy to help.” Steve moved to stand beside you at the sink, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “My mother taught me better than that.” He grinned at you, grabbing one of the plates and started to rinse the dishes left in the sink as if he hadn’t just gotten a tour of your embarrassing amount of Captain America merchandise from your overly enthusiastic daughter.

The two of you worked in silence for a bit, until a screech rang through the apartment, making the both of you turn to find Harper dragging a dining chair in between to two of you. She plucked the plate from Steve’s hand, drying it before placing it on the counter and gesturing for another.

Your jaw dropped. Harper hated the dishes more than any other chore in the house. “You’ll have to come to dinner more often,” you laughed, meeting Steve’s eyes over her head. “Especially if it means that this one is going to help clean up after.”

“I was hoping that I might take the two of you out, the next time.” Steve shrugged, handing Harper another plate to dry.

In all your years, you never would have guessed that Captain America was so smooth. You were speechless for a moment, the combination of Steve’s nonchalant offer and the sight of Harper wiggling her eyebrows at you catching you off guard.

“I think that we would love that,” Harper announced, nudging you with her elbow in a manner that was decidedly less discreet than she had thought it would be.

“I think that we would as well.” You admitted softly, refusing to meet either of their eyes.

It was one of the easiest nights you’d had in a long time, even if Harper had demanded three bedtime stories from Steve. He read each of them to her without protest, complete with a different voice for each character and dramatic hand gestures worthy of both stage and screen. Each request was obliged without question, while you leaned against the doorway, trying to figure out why it felt like he had been doing this since day one.

Thankfully, Harper was starting to have a hard time keeping her eyes open. Steve took it as a sign to pull the blanket up to her chin and tell her “sleep tight”, before making his way out of the room as quietly as possible.

“Thank you,” the words broke the silence of the room as Steve pulled on his jacket.

“No thanks needed.” He smiled bashfully, taking a few steps in your direction. “I should be thanking you. She’s wonderful.”

“I know. I got so lucky. I couldn’t ask for a better girl.” You smiled, glancing back in the direction of her room.

“I don’t know if I would say you got lucky.” A small smile appeared on his face as he met your eyes. “I would say that she had a pretty great mom.” You could feel the warmth on your cheeks as you refused to meet his eyes. It was silent for a few beats, before Steve said “I meant what I said before, about hoping to take you out.”

You smiled to yourself, the sincerity in his voice was nearly tangible. Before you could find the right words, Steve’s hand timidly found its way to your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. “Is it alright if I kiss you now?”

You simply nodded, a little lost in his eyes and a little unsure that this was really happening. He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours.

You were surprised that the fireworks you had dreamed of didn’t come. Instead, as you felt Steve rest his forehead against yours and wrap you up in his arms, you felt perfectly whole, like the last piece of your puzzle was finally in place.

It felt like you were home.

#captain america x reader #captain america imagine #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers fanfiction #my writing

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darknessfactor · 7 years ago

Note

Prompt: Post-CW. Romanogers. Steve has saved Bucky, and he's rescued his friends, but Natasha is still eluding him, and he realizes that he would tear apart the whole world to find her.

A/N: It’s been 84 years… actually I don’t even remember when I got this prompt because Tumblr asks don’t have timestamps. Anyway! I was supposed to write this a LONG time ago and I… didn’t. So I’m doing it now.

Steve starts in Moscow.

It’s a little bit on-the-nose, but going to the Barton farm is out of the question (especially since Clint’s there, on house arrest), and he doesn’t know any of Nat’s other haunts. If she’d ever talked about the months after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., he might have a better idea of where to look.

Nat’s never been the talkative type, though.

So, Moscow it is. One of the fake IDs from T’Challa is enough to get him across the border and into Russia, and his dyed hair and stubble is enough for most people to not look at him twice. He’s thinking he’ll let the beard grow a bit, to keep his face from being recognized. He keeps a careful eye out for cameras as he walks down the street, checking in at a little hostel where the receptionist is only a little bit critical of his accented Russian.

(It’s almost easier to speak Russian than it is the other languages he’s amassed over time. Natasha had been teaching him, and would slip into it at random moments to keep him on his toes. She’s said that his accent probably can’t be helped. “But at least you can ask where the bathroom is,” she’d said, smirking.)

He’s playing the part of a tourist, but one that was born in Russia, whose parents moved to Switzerland shortly after his birth. That’s how he explains the accent when one of the women in the communal kitchen asks him about it. He’s able to chat amiably enough with the other hostel residents, asking them about the sights in Moscow and where he ought to go.

Someone mentions the Bolshoi, and his mind clicks. He asks directions to the theatre, giving a nod of thanks at the man who tells him. He heads there, wearing his customary baseball cap to keep the sun out of his eyes and a light jacket.

Steve doesn’t find anything at the Bolshoi Theatre, which doesn’t surprise him. He knew that expecting Natasha to be in Moscow was a long shot, but he also knew that he had to start somewhere. He stays in the city a few more days, wandering around, trying to find some kind of clue as to where Natasha might be, but there’s nothing.

After day four, he leaves. He can’t afford to stay in one place for long, anymore.

Steve is a bit more suited to life on the run than he thought he’d be.

The only other time he’s had to deal with it was in D.C., and then it had felt wrong, as though he were sticking out like a sore thumb. It’s easier now - easier to roll with it, to use his ‘natural awkwardness’ (Natasha’s words) to his advantage. Most people look at him and see a good-looking, kind of bumbling guy, and it works, somehow.

He has a couple of close calls. He’s fairly sure he gets made in Monaco, but he books it over to Nice on a bus before he can see who’s after him. He takes a ferry to Moracco and loses himself in the blistering sun for a while. There’s still no hide nor hair of Nat, but everyone else has checked in with him multiple times.

Wanda is somewhere in Hong Kong, apparently with a shaved head, color contacts, and heavier makeup. She explains that it’s a disguise that she and Natasha worked out before everything went to shit, and Steve rolls his eyes at Natasha’s ‘creative streak’.

“You probably could’ve found something a little more low-key,” he points out.

“I am told that that is ‘no fun’.”

Sharon’s playing things close to the chest, slipping back to America and keeping a low profile in Chicago, of all places. Their conversations are friendly, and she gets a laugh out of Steve more than once, but it settles into something more like friendship than what he thought it might be back in Berlin. Either way, he’s always glad to hear she’s doing alright.

Clint and Scott don’t check in - too risky for their families. Sam, however, is currently running around in Cape Town, enjoying the sights, but also keeping an eye out.

“Last person to see her that we know is probably Tony,” he says, during his phone call. “And even then I doubt she said ‘hey Stark, I’m going on the run now, you can reach me at this address’. Not exactly her style, you know?”

Steve snorts. “Nah, her style is more ‘see you never’ and then jumping out a window.”

“Kinda like you?”

“I wouldn’t open the window first.”

“What makes you think she would?”

Steve huffs a laugh.

“Look, man… I doubt we’re gonna find her unless she wants to be found. No news is good news - if we’ve heard nothing, then it means that she’s probably fine. Sitting on a beach somewhere, drinking vodka cranberries. Something with vodka. So why are you so hung up on finding her?”

Steve pauses for a moment, and lets out a long breath. “She didn’t have to do what she did,” he says. “She risked everything to help me and Bucky. Her heart was in the right place more than any of us, and it feels wrong that I just… left her to the consequences.”

“She got out,” Sam says quietly. “She must have. It’d be all over the headlines if she hadn’t.”

“I know.”

“Look,” Sam says. “My advice? Be patient. When she wants you to find her, she’ll let you know.”

Steve’s about five months in to his status as a fugitive when the rumors start. He’s started to build connections outside of the law, even though some of the characters he meets are… less than savory. Still, it makes it easier to have contacts that know the goings-on of the international underworld.

If any of them recognize him, they never show it. Instead, they start nicknaming him ‘Nomad’.

“Big guy like you,” says Rajiv, his contact in India, “you could probably pick up a few jobs. Make some money.”

Steve has been gathering money from various caches that Natasha had insisted he set up after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, but even though he’s been frugal it’s starting to run dry. He considers the idea - mercenary work isn’t exactly all that different than avenging, although it often involves more dirty work. But when he’s playing cards with his contact in Vancouver, he hears some interesting news.

“There’s a new merc on the scene,” Mina tells him. She owns the bar they’re sitting in, and runs guns through it. “Rising star, gaining infamy fast. Like, crazy fast. Never fails a job. She’s good.”

Steve pauses, glancing at his cards. He’s shit at poker, but it’s the best way to loosen Mina’s tongue. “Uh-huh?”

Mina smirks. “All the ones who get their weaponry from me are pissed to hell and back. Lotta people want to give the best jobs to her. Never gives a proper name, though, so everyone just calls her Recluse. Kinda funny, huh, Nomad.”

“Maybe she copied me,” Steve says blandly.

“Maybe, if you’d actually taken any jobs,” Mina retorts. “C’mon, Nomad, everyone who’s worth anything can see that you’re good in a fight. I got a few clients around here who’d be willing to pay you some good money.”

“Recluse, huh?” Steve asks. “I’ll think about it.”

Later, he’s the one to contact Sam. Sam’s voice is groggy, like Steve had just woken him up, but Steve doesn’t give him time to recover. “What’ve you got on a merc named Recluse?”

“A merc?” Sam groaned. “What, are we gonna be vigilantes, now? We taking out big-name mercs?”

“Not sure yet.”

Sam grumbles for a moment, but his voice is more alert when he speaks next. “Recluse, huh? You know, I think I have heard the name come up a few times. No one knows her name, but she’s good. Doesn’t fail a job. She’s getting expensive quickly.”

“Yeah, that’s what I heard, too,” Steve says. “You think it might be…?”

Sam pauses, then starts laughing. Steve opens his mouth to explain his reasoning, but Sam beats him to the punch.

“Nah, sorry,” he says, still laughing. “I’m not laughing because - because I think it’s ridiculous, it’s just - “ He chortles some more. “You ever heard of the recluse spider?”

‘Nomad’ ends up taking a job in Amsterdam. He’s just starting out, so he’s aware that he doesn’t have too many choices, but he manages to get a job taking out a human trafficking boss, and he doesn’t feel all that guilty for that.

It’s fairly simple - he pulls on a mask, beats the shit out of the guy’s security, and breaks the guy’s neck. He grimaces afterwards, but the job is done, and at least it was quick. He would’ve preferred to detain the guy, but he’s had to get his hands dirty before, and now that he’s a ghost, it’s harder to avoid it.

He gets a hefty sum for his work (in cash, thankfully), and a slap on the back from his contact in the city. It’s the first building block for his reputation, and the more jobs he takes, the more people are buzzing about him. He’s careful to dial down his strength as much as he can, so that the various agencies in the world looking for Steve Rogers hear about Nomad and only think about a dangerous but normal mercenary.

“Kicking ass and taking names, Cap,” Sam says, during his next call. “Man, what will people say?”

“A guy’s gotta eat,” Steve answers.

Eventually, he gets asked for by Samia, a retired mercenary living in Algiers, who tells him that she’s got ‘a real big score’ lined up for him. He scouts out around her house before he rings the doorbell, but it’s not Samia who answers.

He feels like he’s been expecting this moment for months, but it still takes him by surprise.

The hair is the biggest change. It’s a platinum blond, now, and it’s short again. The green tac suit is new, too, as are the unusual batons she’s wielding. The smirk she’s wearing as she looks at him, though, is familiar.

“‘Bout time, Nomad,” she teases, waving him inside.

Steve nods at her. “Recluse.”

She looks pleased.

Samia’s eyeing the two of them from the entrance to her kitchen, but she doesn’t seem that alarmed by their exchange. “Didn’t know you two knew each other,” she says.

“We don’t,” they say at the same time.

The job is more of a heist than anything else, but Natasha makes it look natural. They break into a mansion in Malta that has more security than most agency buildings, grab a flash drive from the owner’s bedroom (with the owner sleeping, in the bed, not five feet away from the safe they crack). They’re in and out, no one’s the wiser, and they split their earnings between them.

Steve half-expects... well, he isn’t sure what to expect. He’s grateful, though, when Natasha doesn’t disappear on him, instead accompanying him back to the hotel he’s staying in. He sends her an exhausted, but grateful, smile when she suggests she go buy them some celebratory vodka.

“I know you like vodka,” she calls as she leaves, having changed into street clothes. “Even if it can’t get you drunk.”

Steve takes the time to shower as quickly as possible (the water in his bathroom isn’t always guaranteed to work), and changes into jeans and a sweater just before Natasha gets back. Her eyes are warm as she waves the bottle at him, holding up two glasses.

“Where’d you get those?” Steve asks.

“Borrowed ‘em.”

Steve rolls his eyes.

Even though it’s been nearly a year since they last saw each other (and that hadn’t been under the best of circumstances), their conversation is light and casual. When he relaxes enough it feels like she’s never been gone, and it’s only when he remembers that that he realizes just how much he missed her.

“So,” he says, pouring himself another shot. “Mercenary work?”

Natasha shrugged. “It’s familiar,” she said. At his raised eyebrow, she elaborated, “it’s what I did before S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Thought you were with the K.G.B.”

“I was.” Natasha paused, a haunted look appearing in her eyes. “This was... in-between, I guess. I burned down the Red Room and ran away, and becoming a merc was the only thing I could think of to survive. It was a rough time. Kinda surprised that you picked it up, though.”

Steve chuckled. “Sam figured it out, and I couldn’t really think of a better way to send a message back. Figured you’d know it was me.”

“Big, buff guy named Nomad pulls off jobs with ruthless efficiency only a little bit after I started building a new rep?” She elbows him lightly. “Yeah, it wasn’t hard to figure out.”

“It’s not so terrible,” Steve admitted. “Nice to be able to pick and choose stuff. Most of the time.”

They fell silent, after that. Their glasses forgotten, they opted instead to pass the bottle back and forth between them. Natasha didn’t seem to be the least bit affected by the alcohol, something that Steve had learned not to question.

Steve finally musters the courage to say, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For leaving you to deal with the fallout. At Leipzig.”

Natasha shrugs. “I had it handled. Stark gave me a head start. Which, he was smart enough to know that giving me any kind of head start meant that he wouldn’t be able to find me.”

“Still,” Steve says. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with that on your own.”

Natasha’s smile is hollow, this time. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

The smart thing to do would be for them to split up after Algiers - to go their separate ways so that they have less of a chance of being caught.

They don’t.

Instead, Steve and Natasha end up masquerading everywhere as a tourist couple. Either that, or (when they find a job worth their time) they partner up for work. It reminds Steve of back when they were partners at S.H.I.E.L.D., even though that feels like a lifetime ago.

Pretending to be a couple is almost ridiculously easy - mostly because they like to try to one-up each other with how sickeningly in love their covers are. Natasha’s currently winning, having actually recited poetry while they watched the sunset. (It was somewhat ruined by Steve almost falling over laughing, once they were back at their hotel and away from prying ears.)

Doing mercenary work is even easier. They barely have to talk to anticipate each other’s moves, and planning the jobs is familiar, a relic from their days leading the Avengers together. It’s comfortable, but they’re both careful to keep it from getting too comfortable - always moving on, never quite trusting their contacts in the underworld.

Steve calls Sam two weeks into their partnership.

“Told you so,” Sam says, when Steve explains.

“Hi Sam,” Nat says into the receiver, appearing out of nowhere next to Steve and making him jump and glare at her. She wiggles her fingers at him and then heads to the bathroom to shower.

“Hi Nat,” Sam says, sounding amused.

They’re in a hotel in Tokyo when something shifts. Steve isn’t sure what it is, only that suddenly their hotel room is too confining, and he tells Natasha that he’s going for a quick walk. The streets in Ikebukuro aren’t as brightly lit as other parts of the city, but they calm his sudden anxiety, and he takes longer than he’d expected, wandering the city.

When he gets back, Natasha’s somehow managed to fit herself on the windowsill, staring down at the street below them. She turns her head and shoots him a tired smile.

“You didn’t have to wait up for me,” he says.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Sleep for Natasha doesn’t seem to happen very often, from what he’s noticed, but this is the first time she’s admitted it out loud. Before he can put too much thought into what he’s doing, he settles himself on his bed and pats the space beside him. It’s not much, but it should be enough room for Natasha.

She raises an eyebrow at him, but Steve just gazes at her. After a long moment, she uncurls from the windowsill and lies down next to him, unreserved as she presses into his side. He wraps an arm around her waist.

It takes maybe half an hour, but eventually he hears a light snore from her, and smiles.

Steve wakes up to find Natasha wearing a hole in the floor.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Natasha proclaims.

Steve pauses in folding his socks. “Uh...”

She stops pacing, and turns towards him, jabbing a finger in his direction. “You. I like you.”

“I like you too...?”

Natasha makes a frustrated noise, and then takes two steps forward and kisses him.

It’s not exactly new - they’ve been kissing each other whenever they’re in public, selling the idea that they’re a couple. But this feels more honest than that, and Steve relaxes, settling his hands on her hips. When she pulls back, she looks a little bit less nonplussed.

They stare at each other, breathing heavily for a few seconds, when Steve says, “You actually had me thinking you were, like... smooth when it came to romance, or something.”

Natasha snorts. “What gave you that idea?”

“Yeah, obviously I should’ve known better. Now I’m just grateful that you never actually succeeding at setting me up with someone, seeing as how it obviously would’ve ended in disaster - “

She shuts him up. Steve doesn’t mind.

#stagpotter #romanogers #romanogers fic #steve x natasha #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #mcu #mcu fic #my fic #amaya writes fanfiction #i'm sorry this is so late maggie #like SO LATE #i'm sorryyyyyyy #also i'm a little rusty on how i like to write their dynamic #unedited

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iliketowrite1996 · 6 years ago

Text

First Dates

T’Challa reacts to his daughter, Adanya, going on a real date. Base off of a conversation with @syreanne about how he would react.

‘’T’Challa Udaku, you will not embarrass our daughter today. Do you understand me,’’ you question, fixing your husband’s tie.

After a combined total of nearly fifteen years of marriage, you know him well enough to know that he’s fixing his lips to lie to you when he looks at you in mock surprise.

‘’I know you, T’Challa. Adanya is a smart, beautiful young lady. She is kind and determined. You can not tell me that you did not see the say that she'd be asked out coming up.’’

Your sixteen-year old daughter is going on her first date, and T’Challa is a right mess about it. He’s been pacing back and forth in those sandals- yes, you know the one- rubbing at his temples and muttering under his breath.

‘’For Bast’s sake, love, she’s too young.’’

‘’She is sixteen! Didn’t you go on your first date when you were, like, fifteen?’’

‘’I had known Nakia my whole life at that point.’’

‘’And Bakari is just as good for her as Nakia was for you. It’s just a date, husband She may very well not be able to stand him and they won’t go out again. But you are letting her go. It is just a dance, T’Challa. Nothing serious.’’

‘’Was it nothing when you went to that Winter Dance with your college boyfriend?’’

‘’That was different!’’

‘’You ended up dating for two years and she is too young for that kind of commitment.’’

‘’T’Challa Udaku,’’ you take his face in your hands, ‘’She is going on that date. He is taking her to dinner afterwards. Two members of the Dora Milaje will be nearby at all times. You do not have to worry. If you ruin this for her, though, I’m making you sleep in another room. Forever?’’

‘’Forever?’’

‘’Forever.’’

‘’You know, you said that when I did not want Ado going to the event with M’Baku and his son. You know M'Baku has no filter. You said that, then, but somehow… we still ended up in this situation.’’

He rubs your pregnant stomach, chuckling when you roll your eyes.

‘’Shut up, T’Challa.’’

‘’Make me,my love.’’

‘’Okay, you asked for it,’’ you press a kiss to his lips, marveling in the taste that has felt like home for over fifteen years now.

You’ve known each other for over twenty-years, and, still, nothing feels like him.

‘’Baba, mother,’’ Adanya knocks on the slightly open door before entering, all dressed up to attend her high school’s dance.

She is dressed in a navy, off the shoulder dress, and silver heels. Her braids currently fall down her back. You know that she plans to pin them before she leaves.

‘’You look gorgeous,’’ you separate form T’Challa, striding over to your baby girl and bringing her in for a hug.

‘’Thank you, mother. Baba, how do I look?’’

She’s looking at him expectantly, his opinion being the only male one that matters.

T’Challa walks towards her, placing a hand on both of her shoulders.

‘’Intombazana yakho’’ he presses a kiss to her forehead, ‘’ubonakala umhle.’’

‘’I look beautiful,’’ she grins, showing just how insecure she’s been feeling lately.

‘’Always. Ndiyakuthanda .’’

‘’I love you, too, baba.’’

‘’I do not mean to interrupt,’’ Ramonda enters, ‘’You look amazing, my granddaughter, But Bakari is here, Adanya.’’

‘’No! I have not even finished pinning my hair up or doing my makeup!’’

‘’I will help you,’’ you grab her hand, leading her back to her room, ‘’Let’s go. T’Challa, go talk to Bakari. And be nice.’’

So he goes downstairs and meets the young man in the foyer,returning the Wakana salute that he gives him.

Fifteen minutes later, though, Bakari finds himself being stared down by Ayo, Abiola, Abimbola, and the king of Wakanda himself.

‘’What are your intentions with my daughter,’’ T'Challa questions, giving Bakari a blank look.

‘’I’m sorry, sir?’’

‘’He said,’’ thirteen-year-old Ado begins, ‘’ ‘What are your intentions?’. Why did you ask my sister out?’’

‘’I, uh… I think she is very beautiful. He is smart and kind, too. We are friends. We met through Jelani, so I figured it would be a fun time at the dance.’’

‘’What kind of ‘Fun time’ are you planning on having?’’

‘’Rest assure, sir, I don’t think of Adanya that way.’’

‘’Are you lying?’’

‘’No, prince Ado! I promise I am not!’’

‘’Daddy, he smells like cologne. A lot of it,’’ Abioye says.

‘’It doesn’t seml good,’’ Abimbola pitches in.

‘’I… I got nervous. I was sweating a lot and I-I didn’t wanna sm-smell bad so-’’

‘’T��Challa, Ado, Abioye and Abimbola,’’ you begin, rounding the corner, ‘’Leave this nice young man alone. Hello, Bakari it is nice to meet you.’’

‘’It is nice to meet you,a s well, my Queen,’’ he gives you the salute, and you return it, ‘’Adanya will be down in a moment. She was grabbing her kimyo beads and purse.’’

Just then, Ramonda comes down the stairs, her younger sister, Nyala, trailing behind her, holding Ramonda’s hands.

‘’Adanya,’’ Bakair stares at the princess with wide eyes, ‘’You look stunning.’’

‘’Thank you,’’ she grins eyes on the floor as she exudes shyness, ‘’You look very handsome as well.’’

After pictures, the pair head off, leaving you to deal with your sons and husband.

‘’Leave that poor boy alone! Ayo has left with them and they will be fine. Besides, do you think Jelani or Ayo would let anything happen to that girl? Also, Adanya can take care of herself.’’

‘’You are right, my love. I apologize,’’ T’Challa sighs, and your sons follow his lead.

‘’Now, I am going to put the children to bed. Don’t you need to go spar with Okoye or read something?’’

‘’You are right,’’ T’Challa presses a kiss you toye head, Abioye’s , Abimbola and Nala's before bidding a good night to Ado and Ramonda, ‘’I do have some business to take care of. I will see you in a few hours.’’

And with that,’ he takes off with Okoye.

Because the work of the Black Panther is never done.

Adanya’s laughing, cpbr tng her puth to try contain her giggles, ‘’Bakari!’’

‘’I’m serious,’’ he chuckles, setting his drink back on the table, ‘’I’m not a good dancer. I was trying to keep up with you and Jelani!’’

‘’You did just fine,’’ she reassures him, reaching across the table and placing a hand on his, ‘’I had a good time.’’

‘’I did, too,’’ he reveals, ‘’I mean, when Jelani wasn’t glaring at me.’’

‘’Why would Jelani glare at you,’’ she frowns.

‘’I don’t know. Maybe he did not want us to go together.’’

Adanya mulls that over, taking a bite of her pasta as she does so.

‘’You are not mad, are you?’’

‘’No,’’ she shakes her head, shifting her eye contact back to Bakari, ‘’Surprised, though. I guess I never noticed that he had feelings for me. And-’’

‘’Um, Adanya? I don't mean to be rude, but, um… Is that your dad?’’

Adanya whirls around to see her dad about two or three booths behind the, holding a newspaper and wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap and wearing… is that a fake mustache?

‘’Bast,’’ she grows, putting her head in her hands, ‘’What is he doing here?’’

‘’He’s really protective of you,’’ Bakari chuckles, looking back to Adanya, ‘’He loves you.’’

‘’This man,’’ she sings, shaking her head, ‘’Mother will have to talk to him.’’

And that’s exactly what you do an hour and a half later, when Okoye, Ayo, T’Challa and Adanya are allbakc at the palace safely.

‘’A fake mustache, T’Challa? Really?’’

‘’It was for my disguise, entle.’’

‘’T’Challa, you already have a real mustache!’’

‘’Adanya knows what that looks like!’’

‘’Husband, she knows what you look like!’’

This goes on for thirty minutes, Adanya watching with an amused look.

‘’Mother, baba. I am going to bed,’’ she hugs you before turning to her father, ‘’I love you both. Thank you dad. I know you did this for a reason.’’

‘’I did,’’ he admits, ‘’I am sorry.’’

‘’Do not be. Grandma tells me embarrassing things about you all of the time. You can tell this to my children. Good night, mother. Good night, baba.’’

‘’Good night, Adanya,’’ you and T'Challa state in unison before she takes the winding staircase up to her bedroom.

‘’You know that was odd of you, right?’’

‘’I just want to protect her,’’ T'Challa admits, ‘’I do not want her hurt.’’

‘’I know that you do not, T’Challa. I don’t, either. But we have got to let her go and make her own decisions.’’

‘’I know,’’ he whispers, holding you close, ‘’I just did not think that it would be so soon. I messed up, didn’t I?’’

‘’You have a good heart, T’Challa. Your execution is awful.’’

He laughs then, a genuine one before kissing you, ‘’Thank you for keeping me grounded.’’

‘’Thank you for loving the children as much as you do. Now, come on. We have some policies to look over before our meeting tomorrow.’’

‘’There’s something else I’d rather pay attention to,’’ he tells you suggestively.

Which is how you find yourself in bed with T’Challa, his head on your chest as you run a hand over hs curls, ‘’I love you, entle.’’

‘’I love you, too, T’Challa.’’

A beat passes by before another thought pops into your mind and you have to ask, ‘’T’Challa?’’

‘’My love?’’

‘’Where’d you even get that fake mustache from?’’

‘’I am a master at disguise.’’

‘’T’Challa?’’

‘’Entle?’’

‘’Go to bed.’’

‘’Good night, my love.’’

‘’Good night, T’Challa.’’

DISCLAIMER- I DO NOT OWN ANY MARVEL CHARACTERS MENTIONED OR THEIR FICTIONAL WORLDS.

@ashanti-notthesinger @destinio1 @afraiddreamingandloving @starsshines-blog @airis-paris14 @syreanne @chaneajoyyy @90sinspiredgirl @shemiahsmelanin @zillmonger @skysynclair19

#black panther #black panther imagine #black panther x you #t'challa x you #t'challa x reader #t'challa udaku x you #imagines #imagine #marvel imagine #marvel imagines

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