#that and the graphics on the elevator were the first things I noticed

[corazondebeskar-reads]

show me where it hurts

Marcus Moreno x gn!nurse!reader

for @iamasaddie's writing challenge 3.0! my prompt was marcus moreno and nurse play, both of which I have never written about before!

summary: the heroics have a clinic on-site, so you're not sure why marcus moreno keeps turning up at yours.

words: 1.9k

warnings: non-graphic description of injury, the author knows nothing about medical care, the author saw 'we can be heroes' once, aphrodisiacs, implied sex pollen, dubcon associated with sex pollen, marcus is a little bit of a pervert, nurse kink, unethical medical care, unethical relations between nurse and patient, oral, reader has no name or description or gender, sorry if you're a marcus stan and I butchered your boy :( lol, subby!marcus, not even proofread oop

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You don’t quite understand it, until you do.

But for months, it makes no damn sense. You know the Heroics have a clinic at headquarters and medics on the team.

So why does the team leader come all the way here to your little walk-in clinic? Why does he pay in cash in full when the on-site doctors are almost definitely part of his benefits package?

You never ask. Not as the months drag to years and Marcus Moreno knocks on your door at any odd hour with no rhyme or reason, bloodied or bruised or both. 

The first time, you didn’t recognize him. He had changed out of the suit into a worn pair of Levis and a soft cardigan patterned in reds and browns. Black framed glasses perched upon his nose, and the only thing you thought unusual about this man, other than his attractiveness, was the strange jagged border of the bite on his calf.

When you asked what type of animal caused the injury, he shrugged. “Alien dog,” he said, voice lilting as if he was asking you. 

“Alien dog?” 

He had the sense to look sheepish. 

When he handed back the clipboard with his information and consent for treatment, you had heaved a heavy sigh. “Maybe lead with this first next time, Mr. Moreno,” you said, ushering him back to your single exam room.

“Sorry, doc,” he said.

“Not a doctor. Didn’t you read your paperwork?” you scolded with a teasing smile. “Or are those glasses just for disguise?”

“Not a doctor?” 

“I’m a nurse practitioner,” you explained. “I do a lot of the same things as a physician. But I don’t have a doctorate, so you can’t call me doctor.”

“You’re a nurse?” he said, and you noticed a red tinge to his face.

“Are you feeling warm, Mr. Moreno?” you asked, reaching for the thermometer and tucking it under his tongue before tugging his pant leg back up to check the borders of the gash for inflamation. 

His temperature was fine but his blood pressure and heart rate were elevated. “I’m going to give you antibiotics,” you said, holding a finger up against his protests. “It doesn’t look infected, but your vitals are off, and ‘alien dog’ makes me concerned.” 

“I’m just… it’s not…” he tried.

“White coat syndrome?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Something like that,” he mumbled, watching the ground with interest. 

When you finally caught up on the news that night, you dropped your mug of room-temperature tea at the sight of the alleged alien dog. Understatement of the fucking century. The creature on the screen with Marcus Moreno’s leg in its jaws was less like a dog and more like a furry alligator. 

It’s not that he comes by frequently, but it’s enough that you’re never surprised to see him. Mutant chickens flooding the streets? Marcus Moreno knocks at your door covered in peck marks. A league of supervillains arrives with a weather manipulator? Frostbitten Marcus Moreno. A hacker sends a hypnobeam through a mall full of holiday shoppers, leading to hours of line dancing? Marcus Moreno lags in with a limp leg. 

This time, though, it’s unclear what his affliction is. Until it isn’t.

He had texted—you had given him your number sometime between the 20th and 50th witching hour visit—but all it said was “coming.” 

It was only 2 p.m., but you flipped the sign to closed anyway, preferring to give Marcus some privacy. It was a good thing, too, since his text was apparently dual-purposed.

He’s splotchy all over like a blossoming rash and sweat-slick. His glasses are in his jacket pocket, having been abandoned when they just kept fogging up. He’s wavering on the spot and you reach out to grab him, freezing when you realize he’s still in his tactical suit. 

He never comes here in costume. He especially never comes here armed, but sure as shit, there are two katanas on his back. 

You reach to yank him inside before he draws attention to himself, but he recoils.

“Don’t!” he yelps. “Don’t t-touch me.” 

Instead, he waits until you step back before he squeezes into the lobby and plasters himself to the wall opposite you. 

“What happened?” you say.

“Don’t know for sure,” he says, panting. “I got hit with some kind of dart.” He holds it out for you to see, as well as you can in the light that filters through the dusty window and flickering, dim fluorescents overhead. It’s small with a very sharp needle and a clear glass body. You can see the viscous remains of a thick pink liquid, akin to Pepto Bismol. 

“Mr. Moreno, this really seems like something beyond my capacity,” you start.

“Please,” he gasps. “I… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here, I-I…” 

You sigh. “At least come into the exam room so I can get a better look at you.”

He groans. “Please don’t say things like that,” he mumbles, but inches his way over to the door. 

You go to follow, and he holds up a hand.

“How am I supposed to figure out what’s wrong with you if I can’t come in?” you say with your hands on your hips. 

“You have to stay on the other side of the room,” he says through gritted teeth, backing up against the table when you enter the room and shut the door.

“Start talking.”

“F-fine. I… I feel…” his face is redder than you’ve ever seen. 

It’s then that you notice how he’s shed his leather jacket and is struggling to look nonchalant as he holds it at his waist. 

“Like you took ten Viagra?” you wager.

He groans again, covering his face. 

You can’t help but think it’s adorable. He’s always kind of adorable, like a broad, superpowered puppy. 

“Mr. Moreno,” you start.

“Marcus,” he insists for the hundredth time.

“Marcus,” you acquiesce, “this really is out of my wheelhouse, here. I don’t know how to treat you when you’ve been drugged with a strange aphrodisiac. You need to see medical at headquarters.”

“I did,” he whispers.

“And they wouldn’t help you?” The idea sets your blood aboil. 

“No, they… they couldn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“They said it has to run its course. That I need to… I need to…” but he can’t even finish the sentence. This is not how he wanted any of this to go.

The realization burns through you. “You didn’t come here for an exam. You came here for me to treat you. But then… why did you act like you didn’t know what was wrong?”

"I’m sorry,” he groans again. “You’re going to think I’m a total creep.”

And then it adds up. The way he always visits you. The way he blushes. You thought he was just shy or self-conscious. But no. 

“Oh my god,” you breathe. “You’ve been coming here for spank bank fodder?” 

“N-not just, oh god, please don’t say it like that. I didn’t-I wouldn’t…” he sighs and gives up. “It didn’t start that way.” 

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat. The disbelief. “What, is it some kind of nurse kink?”

You can tell you’ve hit his weak spot when he full body cringes. 

“I’ll leave. I’m sorry,” he says, mopping the sweat off his forehead with his equally sweaty arm. “I thought if I just saw you that it might be enough to take the edge off.”

“Is that right?” you say, suddenly not finding it very funny. “Take a seat on the table.”

He opens and closes his mouth stupidly.

“Take a seat on the table, Mr. Moreno. I’m going to need to do a full exam. Would you like me to step out of the room while you undress?” 

Both of you are equally floored by your boldness. It feels almost wrong, knowing he’s under the influence, but he had admitted to thinking of you while he jerked off, so you were feeling less guilty about getting off to YouTube compilations of him in action. 

“Are you sure?” Marcus asks, though he’s already unzipping his suit.

You nod, mouth running dry. 

He makes quick work of the suit, sitting before you in a tight pair of purple briefs that strain under the unrelenting pressure of his thick cock. They’re soaked, far more than just pre-cum.

No, it’s very apparent that he’s spilled into his pants multiple times already. 

You tsk softly. “You should have come in sooner, Mr. Moreno,” you murmur, bringing your stethoscope to his bare chest and placing your fingers on the inside of his wrist. You don’t pay attention to the fluttering beats of his heart, though, instead taking in the lithe, sinewy muscle of his arms. 

“Sorry, nurse,” he whispers.

Your lips curl into a satisfied smirk as you tuck the thermometer under his tongue, which darts out, pink and wet, to take it in. You can’t help but moan, imagining a much better use for it. 

He sits squirming on the table, paper crinkling under his ass and a puddle forming in the front, as you continue your exam. Your steady hands move the stethoscope down his back, coaching him softly through deep breaths, and taking the opportunity to feel the planes of his rippling muscles. 

“Sit still,” you scold, and he whines. 

“Please, I can’t take it.” 

“Be a good boy for me, Marcus,” you murmur, and his whole body shudders as he comes, soaking through the saturated cotton and spilling onto the tan padding of the table. 

You can’t stop yourself from swiping a finger through it and bringing it to your mouth to taste, moaning softly.

“You’re killing me,” he groans.

“Hmm, that won’t do. Hippocratic oath and all,” you say, rubbing a hand over his thigh. “Now tell me, Mr. Moreno, where does it hurt?”

“You know where it hurts,” he whines.

“Show me how you were trying to fix it on your own,” you say, ignoring his rising, pathetic whimpers.

He wastes no time freeing his cock from the underwear and fisting it, not needing any lubricant other than his own come. He tugs at it fiercely and you click your tongue at him again.

“I think I see the problem,” you say, pulling his hand away and cradling his heavy balls in your own.

“Can you help me, nurse?” he says, practically sobbing from relief at your touch.

“Oh, I definitely can,” you say, kicking out the metal step and sinking to your knees on it. You think about teasing him, but he’s clearly tortured himself enough, so you just take him into your mouth.

He comes immediately, tearful apologies pouring from his mouth, but you swallow him down and shush him soothingly after, stroking his still-hard cock with one hand. 

“Shh, don’t worry. I can make it feel better,” you say between kitten licks at his sensitive tip. 

He’s writhing on the table again already and sobs in earnest when you take him into your throat and bob your head. 

He fists the exam table, paper shredded under his hands, as you draw orgasm after orgasm from his overspent body until finally, finally, his cock flags a little. His heart rate is steadier, but he’s exhausted, flopped back on the table with tear-stained cheeks. 

“M’sorry,” he whispers again once he’s gone soft.

“Me too,” you admit. “That’s not really how I imagined this going.”

He lifts his head weakly. “You imagined this?” There’s an unmistakable echo of hope.

“Yeah,” you lay your cards on the table. “I was going to tell you I couldn’t treat you anymore first though. Ethics and all that.”

“I was going to ask you out this weekend,” he confesses, tongue loosened by the night’s activities.

“Okay,” you agree.

“What?” 

“Okay, ask me out for this weekend.”

He grins, sloppy and slanted. “Can I take you on a proper date?”

You match his grin. “Mr. Moreno, I thought you’d never ask.”

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 18: Phobia

Oof, yeah, this one got a little dark. I've said it many times before, my brain cooks at midnight, I just leave the stove on for her. But yeah, read the content warning.

Content warning: non-graphic mentions/implications of blood and death, reader discresion is advised.

Word count: 1389

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Just get in, and get out. Don't look at him, don't acknowledge. You just have to drop off these supplies and then you can be on your way.

You walk into the daycare, head down. You deposit the supplies on an open craft table, nod briefly to the helper who thanks you, and spin on your heel to head back out again. 

Your face bumps into a metal chassis, instead. 

"Oh! So sorry, friend! Are you alright?"

You freeze, then mumble a quiet 'fine' as you try to get by him. You can't even meet his gaze.

"Wait, wait, wait! You didn't even say hello!" His voice sounds closer, he must've bent down to your level. 

You keep your eyes trained on the ground, "H-hello."

"Oh, come on friend!" Now a bit softer, almost concerned, "Surely you can do better than that."

You open your mouth, then shake your head, "S-sorry. I really have to go now."

With that, you manage to sidestep the bot and dart out the main doors. Leaving behind a confused Daycare Attendant and some mildly interested helpers. 

This isn't the first time; it certainly won't be the last. Of the greatest concern to you, however, was how much effort the Attendant now seemed to be putting in to talk to you. Greeting you as you came in to drop things off, making sure to say goodbye, even waving if they saw you passing by the windows. All of which would be, fine, if it wasn't for the fact that it didn't stop there.

It was the attempts at conversation, the jokes, the gifts. Just little things, but they still held meaning. A favorite drawing, a couple of moondrops-since you seemed so stressed- a bracelet, one time, even a small bundle of flowers.

The helpers would tease you in the staff room all about it, saying they've never seen the two AI try so hard to get to know someone. One even slipped up and said they might have a crush on you which internally caused a breakdown. On the outside, you just gave a polite smile and simply stated the same thing you always did; you were just a bit shy, and very busy. Constantly running errands and the likes, you know how it is.

You just hoped no one ever looked up your social media history and saw how, active, you were in your local community. Or caught you taking naps in one of the third floor longues because you were bored out of your mind. 

It all finally came to a head one day when the Attendant, the sunny one, managed to corner you for good this time. To be fair, you hadn't accounted for his helpers, well, helping him with that.

So, there you were, in a side hallway by the Daycare, face to face with the bot you'd been doing your damndest to avoid for so long.

It's not his cheery demeanor that gives you pause however, it's what he has to say, and the pieces all finally click into place.

"You have robophobia!"

You stare up at the bot, eyes wide.

"Robo, robophobia?" You ask.

Sun rolls on the balls of his feet, "Mmmhmm. I couldn't figure it out for the longest time, but now it makes so much sense!"

This is the first time in a long time that you've felt confident enough to look up at him, to see where he's going with this.

"Your acute stutter, elevated heart rate, avoidant but otherwise kind personality, I can't believe I didn't notice it sooner," He tsks, shaking his head, "I mean, why else would you be acting in such a way?"

You can't stop the images that come forth. Of that night. Of the several others you'd witnessed. 

You'd just been passing by, you hadn't meant to listen in, to see what you saw. You'd just wanted to grab your lunchbox before you went home for the night. Sure, was it weird there was someone in the Daycare with Sun that late? Yeah, maybe. But it wasn't your business. 

You just wanted to see what they were doing, that was all. Just not to the extent that you had. 

The joint giggling had drawn you in, as you peeked into one of the windows, the big doors obscuring you from view.

Inside was one of the Daycare helpers, and of course, Sun. 

They were doodling at one of the tables, both looking quite comical as they sat there, drawing and chatting. 

"This was such a good idea, Sunny!" The helper says, hard at work on her art, "Never realized how fun being on this side of things could be, thank you for inviting me."

The bot's rays spin, "Of course, Sunbeam! I simply noticed your recent stress levels and realized I must do something about it! After all, we're friends aren't we?"

"Yeah!"

You're about to head on your way, not interested in eavesdropping further, when you realize the Attendant has stopped coloring.

The helper, you think her name is Hailey, also notices.

"Is everything okay, Sun?"

You have to strain to hear what he says next. 

"Do you mean it?" He turns to face her, sharply. 

She seems, nervous. You don't blame her, "O-of course, I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"You hesitated."

"I, hesitated-Sunny are you sure everything is alright?" She puts her hand over his, "You know I wouldn't lie to you, right?"

You hold your breath as the bot just stares down at her, rays rotating every couple of moments. 

Then, he suddenly bursts back to life, "That's right! You would never do such a thing! Silly me!"

You feel yourself relax; Hailey laughs awkwardly. 

Sun joins in, putting a hand to his chest, "I apologize if I upset you, Sunshine!"

"No, no you're good, haha," It's hard to tell from here but you think she's adverting her gaze. 

The hand on his chest goes to her back, patting it a few times, "Let me make it up to you! I'll help you with your drawing!"

"O-oh, you will?"

"Mmmhmm," Sun hums, "In fact, I know just exactly what it needs!"

Hailey perks up a little bit, "What's that?"

"Just," You feel your eyes widen as his hand snakes up and grips the back of her hair, "A little bit," You know exactly what's about to happen and you can do nothing to stop it, "Of red!"

You slam your eyes shut, crouching down and hands covering your ears in a panic. It does nothing to block out the Bang! Bang! Bang! you hear, over and over. 

Your breathing is as shaky as the rest of you as you remove your hands, nothing but the sound of the Daycare's theme in the air now. You remain on the ground as Sun speaks once more, too afraid to move an inch.

"Whoops! What a troublemaker you are, Hailey! Clean up, clean up!"

And then he laughed. Harsh. Cold. Unfeeling. It sunk straight into your core and didn't leave you for weeks. Even now, months later, it rings in your head. Just the idea of it, of all it, it was insane.

The attendant, both of them, luring previous daycare workers in with kindness and generosity. Compassion, the promise of friendship, or something more. Only to brutally take it all away without a second thought.

You wished it had just been that one time. But multiple times you'd stumbled upon those gruesome scenes. You don't know how they kept getting by with it. Surely someone would have seen and done something by now, right? Or had you just been lucky so far in that you were the only one to survive to tell the tale? All the others having been caught and, dealt with.

You realize you're still staring up at him.

"S-sure. That's it."

Sun's hands go to his hips, "Well, we'll just have to fix that, won't we? Not to worry, Sunshine! You're in good hands. We'll be best friends before you know it!"

You give an awkward, slightly terrified, smile, "C-can't wait."

Little did you know they'd taken your fear as a challenge, not as a suspicious sign. A challenge, which they were so invested in that you'd gone from being one kind of target, to another entirely. 

Oh, lucky you. Lucky, lucky you.

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I am ALMOST caught up with promptober. This is such a great thing for us. Or well, for me anyway, but hopefully for you too! Masterlist is located here, thank you for reading!

[oizysian]

III. DON’T FALL IN LOVE WITH HER

All Eyes on Me masterlist

Word count: 2.5k

•

The next few days were exhausting. Brie took me all over LA, or at least that's what it felt like.

We went shopping, went out to eat at restaurants I'd never try by myself, and went sightseeing at the typical tourist attractions the state had to offer.

It was now the night of the party and, quite frankly, I was terrified. I was in my hotel room, pacing, waiting for Brie to come and pick me up, but I wasn't even dressed yet. I couldn't choose an outfit to save my life. She told me it was casual, but what is casual to a bunch of celebrities?

I bit my lip as I examined the clothing I brought with me. It was mostly graphic tees, hoodies and joggers that I owned, so casual is all that I really had anyway. I just didn't want to look or feel out of place.

I took a random shirt and a pair of black joggers and went into the bathroom, cleaning up a bit before getting dressed. As I reentered the living area there was a knock on the door, no doubt it was Brie.

I opened the door and there she stood, dressed just about as casually as I was. She looked me up and down and shot me a sly smile.

"Lookin' good, Y/N."

"Thanks." I smiled, moving to the side so she could enter the room. "You look really good too. Lemme just grab my phone and we can go."

She nodded at my words, standing at the door as I walked over to the bed and grabbed my phone and hotel key off the nightstand. I pat my pockets, checking for my wallet and double checking that I had everything before turning back to her and gesturing for her to leave.

"Ladies first." I smirked and she scoffed at me.

"Then why am I leaving before you?"

"That's 'cos I'm a gentlewoman and you're not."

"Yeah, 'cos gentlewomen wear snapbacks to parties."

"Wait," I stopped dead in my tracks and she turned to look at me. "Should I not? I could take it off."

She approached me, looking at my face intently. She reached up to grab me by the chin, turning my head in different directions so she could see me from all angles. It was a little intimidating to be honest. She gave me a small smile and tapped my nose gently.

"It suits you. You look cute. C'mon."

I watched her walk down the hall towards the elevator for a split second before following her, closing my room door securely behind me. What the hell was that about? I shook myself out of my thoughts and joined her in wait for the elevator to reach our floor.

"You excited?" She asked, staring straight ahead at the closed doors.

"Yeah," I smiled slightly, thinking about all the things that could possibly happen tonight. "I like making new friends. I'm just not very good at it."

"Selling yourself short again." She shook her head and gave me a playful smirk. "Don't you remember what happened last time?"

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks at her words. Despite waking up with a hangover the next day, I did remember that she wanted to kiss me that night.

"Yeah, you struck me down in cold blood." I teased and she laughed underneath her breath, not wanting me to know she was laughing.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened for us. We entered and went down to the lobby, where she had a car waiting for us out front.

"You're not driving?" I asked and she shook her head.

"I plan on drinking, so I asked my usual driver to take us. Frank, this is Y/N. Y/N, Frank." She introduced us and I waved to him shyly as we both got into the backseat.

"How far is it?"

"From here?" She thought for a second. "About 10 minutes."

"Where are we going?"

"A lot of questions tonight, huh?" She bumped our shoulders and I bumped hers right back, causing her to laugh. "The producers of the film rented out this small club for the night so the cast, crew, and whoever else was invited could party without an audience."

She looked at me from the corner of her eye and I tried not to notice how often she actually looked at me.

"You're probably the only person that'll be there with absolutely no Marvel connections at all."

"You're my Marvel connection." I smiled up at her and she shook her head, clearly amused with me.

"I sure am."

We sat in silence for a few moments before finally pulling up at the club. She said "small" and I expected it to be small. This was huge.

"C'mon." She called to me and I realized I was still sitting in the car while she was already waiting outside.

I climbed out and looked up at the building before I felt her tug on the sleeve of my shirt, dragging me to the front door. We entered with no issues, her being Brie Larson and me being attached to Brie Larson. She kept me close as we walked through the crowds of people, and I suddenly became very aware of just how many people it took to work on a movie.

I nervously clung to her arm, not really being used to large crowds all so close together like this. There was almost no room to breathe.

She greeted people as we made our way to the back end of the club where she had obviously spotted her former co-stars. She waved animatedly at people I couldn't see and picked up her pace, which I did my best to match. She had energy I could only dream of.

In front of us was a few tables put together with a bunch of people just talking, drinking, and enjoying each other's company. It would seem like a normal scene, except for the fact that all of these people were some of Marvel's greatest actors.

Brie introduced me to everyone generally and I waved, completely overwhelmed at the amount of people I was meeting and I was momentarily thankful that I already knew most, if not all, of their names. She then took me around and introduced me to her friends personally and I did my best to keep my cool.

They were all very nice to me, very polite and Chris Evans even offered to buy me a drink, which I accepted. While he was off fetching me a drink of some kind, Brie introduced me to the last group - the one that got my stomach all tied up in knots.

"Y/N, this is Scarlett, Colin, Elizabeth, and Robbie."

"H-hi." I stuttered like an idiot, my eyes glued to the green-eyed beauty sitting not ten feet away from me.

She smiled brightly, extending her hand out for me to shake. She was the only one that offered her hand to me and I took it, hoping that my palm wasn't sweaty and that I wasn't shaking too badly.

Her hands were small and soft, quite like my own, and it kind of felt like they fit perfectly together.

"Brie told me she was bringing someone special with her." I gave Brie a look and she shrugged.

"Are you guys dating?" The man beside Elizabeth spoke and she elbowed him in his side, which he ignored.

I shook my head and a moment later Brie spoke.

"Robbie, people have friends. You should get some and see what it's like."

My eyes widened at her words. She had a smile on her face and Elizabeth looked embarrassed. Robbie, on the other hand, seemed used to Brie's banter and completely ignored her, going back to sipping on his beer.

Chris approached us with my drink and I thanked him. He took note of the awkward tension between Elizabeth and Brie and shook his head, walking away to hang out with everyone else. Oh god, why did Brie have to open her mouth and make things tense?

"I'm gonna get another beer." Robbie got up and made his way over to the bar, leaving us alone for the moment.

"Do you want a drink?" I asked Elizabeth and she shook her head.

"No, I'm driving tonight. Come sit!" She pat the spot next to her and I sat down, my whole body shaking with excitement and nervousness.

Brie stood for a moment before sitting on the other side of me, chatting up Scarlett and Colin.

"So, tell me about yourself." Elizabeth spoke to me and I nearly spit out my drink. She was actively trying to get to know me.

"Um ... well, what do you wanna know?" I chuckled nervously, swirling my drink around to distract myself from making a fool out of myself.

"Anything. Everything." She leaned her elbow on the table and placed her head in her hand, her eyes completely focused on me. "Brie says you met playing video games? Do you make them for a living?"

I shook my head, placing the drink on the table so I could discreetly fidget with my hands under the table.

"I play them, actually. Live for people to watch."

"What kind of games do you play?"

"All kinds. Do you play?"

"Oh no," she smiled at me. "But Robbie does sometimes so I know a little bit about them."

I nodded in understanding, bringing one of my hands back up to grab my drink and take a sip.

"If you ever want to learn more, I'm your gal. I-I mean, I can show you how to play stuff. Like CoD."

"CoD?" She questioned. If she noticed that I was nervous she didn't make it obvious.

"Call of Duty. Sorry, I'm so used to being around gamers that I forget about normal people sometimes." I laughed and she scrunched up her nose.

"I'd love to learn. I'm really competitive so I might become a monster when we play."

"I'm only competitive when it comes to Zombies. I'm not much of an online player."

"Is that how you met Brie?"

"Playing CoD? No. We played Fortnite. Well, actually we met because -"

Robbie returned at that moment, plopping down on the other side of Elizabeth and wrapping his free arm around her shoulders. She moved from her leaning position and sat up straight.

"I think I know you." Robbie spoke, pointing at me with his bottle.

"Do you?" I questioned, unsure as to how he could possibly know me.

"Yeah, Twitch made a post about you on Twitter the other day, didn't they? Saying how you raised $5,000 for charity with that one over there." He gestured to Brie and I nodded at his words.

"Yeah, that was me." I chuckled nervously, taking another sip of my drink.

"You raised $5,000 for charity?" Elizabeth asked surprised and I nodded.

"Brie helped though." I laughed.

"That's amazing." She spoke softly, awe evident in her gaze.

"Y/N here is amazing, Liz." Brie turned to butt into our conversation. "She organized the whole thing herself. I just weaseled my way in there for fun."

Brie nudged me with her elbow and I looked at her. She gestured to Elizabeth with her head and smiled.

"Tell Lizzie what character you played as when we played Fortnite."

My eyes shot down to the liquid in my glass, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Who?" She questioned, a smile gracing her beautiful face as she looked at me.

"Scarlet Witch." I mumbled and she placed her hand on my thigh, bouncing excitedly in her seat.

"Are you a fan?"

I shook my head and her expression went from excited to confused.

"Not of her." I looked up into her eyes and smiled, noticing the light blush that colored her cheeks.

"Y/N is a BIG admirer of yours, Liz."

I shot Brie yet another look and she smiled widely, taking a sip of the drink I hadn't realized that she had.

"I-I just ..." I tried to think of something to say to save myself. "I think you're beautiful."

Y/N, shut up.

"And smart and funny."

Elizabeth smiled, biting her lip and scrunching up her nose again. Holy shit, I was going to fall in love.

"Well, thank you, Y/N. I think you're beautiful and smart and funny too."

I completely malfunctioned at that very moment. She giggled at my reaction and I did my best to not turn into a puddle of mush at the sound.

"How long are you gonna be in LA?"

"Only another day or so."

"We should grab lunch before you go! It'll be fun."

"Y-yeah, sure." I smiled and she turned to grab her purse, digging around inside of it before pulling out her phone.

"Here," she handed it over to me. "Give me your number and we can meet up."

I stared at the phone in her hand for a moment before taking it from her, putting my name and number in her contacts before handing it back. She smiled at her phone before looking back up at me. If Robbie wasn't draped across her at the moment I probably would've gotten closer to her.

"Where do you live?"

"New York."

"New York! My sisters live there - I visit all the time!" She was really excited and I wasn't sure why. Did she really like me that much already?

"They have a clothing line, right? The Row?"

She nodded excitedly, clearly proud of the empire her sisters had built. We talked for a while with the occasional interruption from Robbie and Brie, the both of them a little more than tipsy.

When Brie became more intoxicated than I could handle, I apologized to Elizabeth, telling her I would be taking Brie home. She promised she'd text me in the morning and gave me a hug before I dragged Brie's drunk ass out of the club and over to the car.

I managed to get Brie up to my hotel room, stumbling and tripping over our own feet as we made our way over to the bed. I dropped her half conscious body onto the bed and stood in front of her for a moment, deciding that I would sleep on the pullout couch tonight instead of bunking with her.

I turned to fix up the couch when I heard Brie shuffling around.

"Y/N," she called to me, now sitting up on the bed. "Come here."

I approached her and she grabbed my waist to steady herself as she looked up at me.

"Did you have fun?"

"I did." I smiled down at her, pushing gently on her shoulders so that she would lay down and sleep. "We can talk about it tomorrow. You need sleep now."

She grabbed me by my arms and pulled herself up, pressing her lips to mine sloppily. I stood in shock as she kissed me, not even thinking to respond in any way. She pulled away from me, licking her lips and looking down at the ground before speaking.

"You really like her, don't you?"

"What?" I finally snapped out of my stupor, realizing she was now laying down on the bed, falling asleep.

"Don't fall in love with her." She murmured softly and I just stared at her as she fell asleep.

It might've been too late for that.

•

@oh-thats-cute @marvelwomen-simp

[waywardcrow]

Timeless.

Chapter IV.

Summary: 1943. 1975. 2024. Three different decades, three different lives, three different times your life and Bucky's interwined; he lost you twice, will he do it again?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader.

TW: It can change each chapter but themes of Bucky as soldier and as the Winter Soldier in general, flashbacks and dreams in italics like this, lots of feels, reader's being a little anxious, some stalking lol, a brief sex scene (p in v), very bad written smut, implied domestic violence (not from Bucky), murder mentioned, past lives, past 40'sreader is mentioned to be named Beth but that changes for 2024 version of her so I nicknamed her little bird for Bucky, Ace for everybody else, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: Please remember english is not my first language so if I make a mistake or forget something let me know.

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Previous chapter <;<<

You were fired, that wasn’t a surprise.

Mia Alexander didn’t sue you for every penny you had, that was shocking.

But getting a call from Pepper Potts herself, that was the real main event of your whole life.

She asked you to go and pay her a visit at her office in the Avengers tower, like if that didn’t send you in a spiral of bliss and terror, what will you wear? What could a woman like her want to talk with someone like you? Even if Sergeant Barnes –Bucky, you reminded yourself- told her what had happened in the gala, she might be mad at you.

Your head begun to think in the possibilities all the way there, considering that this was the reason why Mia didn’t sued you, maybe Pepper Potts would do it.

When you finally arrived to the tower your stomach was in knots, not even your lucky outfit made you feel better but like every other day in your life you sucked it up and walked to the front desk.

“Hi, I’m here to see Miss Potts?” you said, making it sound more like a question and the receptionist stared at your vintage midi skirt and blouse like he understood your hesitation. You offered him a smile before telling him your name so he looked for it in the screen in front of him and gave you a visitant pass.

“Third floor, follow the hall, last door in your right” he said and then went back to his screen.

“Oh, ok, thanks” your neck was hot with embarrassment when you reached the elevators and just became more evident when you got in and someone else did too.

“Good morning, third floor too?” Scott Lang, THE Scott Lang, asked you and you could only nod like an idiot. He did a double take on your face and smiled “hey, I know you; you are the girl who throws champagne at evil bosses.”

You were turning purple, it was a sure thing.

“What?” it was all you said.

“Yeah, the other night you did an incredible stunt, Sam told us everything” so Captain America knew too, great. Scott must saw something in your expression because his changed “is ok, seriously, when we hear what she did no one blamed you for it, I was sure Hope was about to kick her ass and don’t let me start with Yelena” your head was spinning “I think it was brave and more subtle than ruining your boss company and driving a car to his pool”

That earned a strangled laugh from you.

“Are you going to see Miss Potts too, Mr. Lang?” you asked when the elevator doors opened again and you walked with him.

“Actually I’m going to see Maria Hill but I’ll see you later” he smiled at you with such honesty that you relaxed for the first time in all day, making your way to your destiny you noticed the front desk for Miss Potts assistant was empty and you were just on time which was as good as being late.

Without not knowing what to do, you knocked at her door.

“Come in”.

Taking a deep breath, you did it squaring your shoulders and trying to tell yourself everything would be fine.

“Good morning, Miss Potts, I hope is ok I called, there was no one and-“

“It’s completely fine” she said gesturing for you to sit in front of her and went to address your formally even if contradicted her next words “Please call me Pepper, everyone does.

There was something about her, a professionalism that was inspiring but also made her approachable and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Only if you call me by my first name too”

“It’s what you like to be called? Because Sam told me about your friend calling you Ace when he went with Sergeant Barnes to the hospital, I think it fits you” at her words it was impossible not to blush again; first of all because of the mention of Bucky, the recurrent thought of your head the last days and then because of the nickname Harper gave you.

“I mean, yeah, my friends call me that” it was an exaggeration, you only had one friend.

“Maybe we should stick to it, between me and you Pepper is not even my name but I think is perfect for me” there was something like nostalgia in her eyes but she didn’t let you think too much about it “and I like that my employees feel comfortable when we talk.”

“Excuse me, what?” it was really embarrassing how you couldn’t form a decent sentence in front of her.

“I would like you to be my assistant, Ace” she said and then your life really changed.

Bucky still could tasted you, the other you, the one who reincarnated and was born in a rich Italian family in 1950, the one that somehow found him when he was The Winter Soldier.

He wasn’t supposed to fuck you in your fiancée’s car, well ex fiancée, you couldn’t marry a dead asshole. His mind couldn’t know why he needed you that bad but his body did, Bucky was sure it was the conditioning what made him be such a caveman with you but the truth was, you were his mirror back then.

You wanted him since Lucas bragged about his connections to Hydra and how they lend him their best asset to protect the arsenal his father’s company will provided for them. Your whole attention was in the silent assassin who looked at you like you were everything he could ever want.

Lucas wasn’t great with you, his little bird, that’s why he snapped his neck and took you away, sometimes his nightmares will let him breath and remember you surrounding him, riding his cock, high in pleasure, telling him that you loved him before you both were found and he was dragged back to Hell.

As a small blessing, he didn’t remembered that while dreaming, Bucky was too lost on you, in the salty taste of your skin against his tongue when he traced the valley of your naked breasts with it.

“Give me one more, little bird” he ordered, thrusting in and out of you with an incredible skill considering the small space “drench my cock again.”

His english was perfect with you, no sign of hesitation, not remembering he wasn’t supposed to speak it so naturally when it wasn’t necessary; the Brooklyn accent showing up without effort.

“I- I can’t” you sobbed, drunk on him, your body asking for more.

“You will” his metal hand let go your neck to play with your clit, the cold metal sending you to your climax once again, taking him with you.

The softness of your skin against his was the last thing he remembered before waking up.

Harper called you when you got back home and screamed when you tell her the news; she made a joke about coming to work with you so she could see Sam Wilson every day, making you feel better. Since you convinced your parents go and have the retirement they deserved, Harper was the only one you had and she was more than what you deserved but sometimes you wished for more, for someone to go home to.

Like a fool, your mind went to Sergeant Barnes; you needed to thank him for what he did for you.

If not for him, you would have be ruined but how could someone put that in a thank you card?

Maybe you could bake something for him.

Bucky likes apple pie.

The thought came out of nowhere with an intense hint of pain between your eyebrows, what was that?

Maybe a nap would help, your new job waited for you and this was the chance you dreamed of, ruining it wasn’t an option.

When Bucky went to check on you that night, you were already sleeping in your couch, making very difficult for him to let you there. Of course he could break in and carry you to your room without waking you up but it would make you feel unsafe.

It was hard for him to go back to a civilian life, or the closest he could have, his actions needed to be careful, especially around you. It was also torture he remembered almost everything and you nothing at all, that he couldn’t tell you about that night on your porch in 1943 or your breakfast with him, Steve and the Howlies when your unit was sent to Europe and destiny brought you both together again, he couldn't tell you about that time in Italy.

Bucky wanted you to know everything but you will never believe him, in the best case you'd believe it was a joke or a proof of him losing his mind but you could also believe him dangerous –which he was- and get away from him where Bucky would not be able protect you.

Sited there in your fire escape, he started to memorize every part of you he could see through the darkness, if that was all he could have from you, he would make it be enough.

Tag list: @cjand10 @bunnyforhim @cookingdancingchick

Next chapter >>>

Hello lovelies! Sorry for bringing this short chapter, I tried to start going through their past lives but witout giving so much details so this don't gets very confusing, if it still is please tell me so I can work on it, what de you think? I'll love to read about it in the comments!

Love, Lily.

[lives-in-midgard]

Heyyy, for the birthday celebration.

Could you write Bucky x fem!reader, and it's her birthday but she thinks everyone forget that. But actually Bucky prepares a surprise for her and with a lot of fluffy, maybe?

Thank you in advance❤️

Bucky's Birthday Surprise

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: You thought everyone forgot your birthday but actually Bucky prepared a surprise for you.

Word Count: 1112

A/N: Thank you for sending in that birthday request! I really enjoyed writing it and hope you like it!💞 The divider is made by @firefly-graphics

If you want to be on my taglist comment here!

Masterlist

You all came back from a mission today and tomorrow is going to be your birthday. Celebrating your birthday was never your favorite day of the year. You liked celebrating others but not your own. But the thought changed since you joined the Avengers. They are like a family to you, so you really like to spend time with them and celebrate something with them. It’s going to be your second birthday that you celebrate with them. Last year they threw a little party because they didn’t really know what you like. But you really enjoyed it and had a lot of fun with them. One thing that also would be different this time is that Bucky would be here. He wasn’t an Avenger back then but you two got really close over the time since he joined.

You knew that tomorrow is going to be different and maybe they don’t have much planned because you just got back from a mission. But you were sure that they must have something planned.

When you woke up you were still tired but excited for the day. You went into the bathroom and made yourself ready for the day. You were surprised because when you walked into the kitchen there wasn’t anything decorated. No balloons, no happy birthday garland, nothing.

“Good morning.” You said and then they all noticed you.

“Good morning, doll.” Bucky was the first one to say something to you.

“Morning Buck.” You said and the others greeted you too. No one said anything because of your birthday, not even Bucky. That’s weird, maybe they forgot, you started to ask yourself. Bucky handed you a cup of coffee and smiled at you.

“Thanks Buck.”

“Of course, doll.” He said and you both sat down on the table. This was weird, everyone was having normal conversations. They really forgot. They are probably all a little exhausted because of the mission yesterday, so you decided to not say anything.

“Oh, because of the mission I clearly forgot what today is.” Natasha suddenly said and everyone looked at her. You thought she was talking about your birthday but that thought slipped away soon.

“What do you mean Romanoff?” Tony asked and you saw that Bucky was getting a little nervous beside you.

“Yelena is coming over today.”

“Oh, yeah, now I remember it too.” Steve said and you couldn’t remember that Nat mentioned anything like that.

“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asked from the seat next to you. You looked over to him and nodded.

“Sure.” No one said anything so you went back to your room after breakfast. You sat down at your bed and looked at a group picture of you and the other Avengers. Suddenly a small tear ran down your cheek. You heard a knock on your bedroom door and quickly wiped it away. When you opened the door Yelena was standing in front of you. You greeted each other with a hug.

“How about a short walk?” Yelena asked and you nodded.

“Sure, but what about the others?” You asked when you walked downstairs and couldn’t see them.

“Nat said something that they were having a quick meeting or something.”

“Oh, okay.” You mumbled and looked at the ground.

After you and Yelena came back you felt a little bit better. Maybe it’s okay that they forgot, they can’t remember everything, you thought.

The elevator door to the living room opened and you walked out. The lights were out so no one was there, you were again filled with sadness.

But when you turned the light on you saw that everything was decorated and suddenly everyone jumped out of their hiding spot and shouted.

“Happy birthday.” They were throwing some confetti into the air, and you had the brightest smile on your face. You were so surprised because not only the Avengers who live in the compound were there, also some others. Loki, Scott Lang, Peter, Clint was there and even the Guardians of the Galaxy made time to come. Even though so many people were there you immediately searched for Bucky. When you saw him standing next to Steve you immediately smiled. You turned to Yelena who gave you a hug and whished you a happy birthday. Then you walked over to the others.

“Thank you so much for all of this. You don’t know how much this means to me.” You said and looked at them.

“You have to thank Bucky. It was all his idea.” Natasha said with a smile, and you turned to Bucky. You looked at him with a huge smile on your face.

“Thank you so much Buck.”

“You’re welcome, doll.” He said and you walked closer to him to give him a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, and you buried your face into his chest. The hug was warm and felt so good. Like home.

“It’s time to blow out the candles!” Thor yelled from behind and everyone laughed. You broke the hug with Bucky and you both smiled at each other. You blew out the candles and then everyone ate a piece of the cake. Music was playing in the background, while everyone handed you your presents. Some presents were thoughtful, and some were just silly things that made you laugh. You couldn’t believe Bucky planned all this. You were on a mission, and he still somehow had this all planned. There was everything a person needs at their birthday, a cake, presents, music and everyone you love. You were so happy and looked over to Bucky, who noticed you and then smiled at you.

After a while Bucky stood up and carried the plates into the kitchen. You decided to walk after him because you want to thank him again. Bucky placed the dishes into the sink and when he turned around, he smiled at you.

“Hey.” You whispered and began to blush.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky said and walked closer to you.

“Thank you so much Bucky, I really thought you all forgot.”

“I would never forget about your birthday. I wanted to make this day special for you, even though we just came back from a mission. Maybe it wasn’t perfect but I’m really glad you like my surprise.” You smiled and reached for his hands.

“You’re right there is still one thing missing for the day to be perfect.”

“Do you think what I’m thinking?” Bucky asked.

“I hope so.” You chuckled while Bucky pulled a hair behind your ear. He moved closer and gave you a soft kiss.

“Now it’s perfect.” You said after you pulled away and rested your forehead on Bucky’s.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @angiestopit | @buckys-wintersoldier | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom |

[imawreck]

Perfect Soldier

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary: Ghost reveals parts of her past with Hydra in hopes that the Avengers would understand her more and treat her less like a prisoner. Some of which, are hard pills to swallow for the team.

Warnings: mentions of a past with Hydra, bruises and mild gore, hint of betrayal

Author's Note: I just wanted to say thanks for sticking with me this far! I also wanted to preface this before I continue posting parts. Ghost has a past with Hydra, who is definitely NOT a good group of people, and a lot of gruesome things are written into this story because of how closely knit her backstory is with them. So, from now on, the story might get a bit graphic in future chapters... YOU'VE BEEN WARNED! Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,724

Bucky-

The main room was barren when I exited my quarters for dinner. A plate was set out on the counter for me, more than likely left by Steve in a poor attempt at an apology. I scraped out the last of the spaghetti from the pot on the stove and took a seat at the bar. No one was on the floor from what I could tell. It was a little out of the ordinary. Normally, at least one of the members would be in at this hour.

I cleared my throat after finishing the last bite on my plate, "Friday, where is everyone?"

"Good evening Sergeant Barnes, the avengers are gathered in the training room. Our guest is sparring with Miss Romanoff."

I sat up in my seat, "She's what?"

"She's sparring with Miss Romanoff. The rest of the team went to observe."

I dumped my dishes in the sink and hustled to the elevator, punching the down arrow. The door opened up to the hallway, the team watching from the one way glass. Inside, the two women stood on opposite sides of the mat. Natasha had one fist clenched and a rubber training knife gripped in the other. Ghost stood slightly crouched, her hands were splayed open loosely at her sides. Natasha looked warn, I could see her shoulders rise and fall faster than normal. On the other hand, Ghost looked barely winded.

I approached the glass, watching as they began to circle each other. Ghosts' ears twitched just like they had when she caught me in the kitchen, and her eyes zeroed on the glass behind her.

Wrong move.

Natasha slammed the handle of the knife into the side of Snow's jaw, a shuddering crack echoing through the room. The team all gasped, eyes wide as plates. Banner seemed to be the only one who had noticed my approach. "That was the first time Nat has landed a punch on her since the spar started. They've been at it for a while now."

A smile spread over Natasha's face, "Getting a little distracted there Snow. Could it be your boyfriend?" The girl's face darkened significantly, her jaw visibly clenched. Natasha kept at it, "What's your deal with him?"

Instead of answering, she threw a solid left hook to the Natasha's side. It was fast, almost inhumanly so.

Nat grimaced, chuckling through the pain. "That one was a little harder than the others. Have I hit a nerve? I can tell you're holding back. Not just in this fight, but on what you know."

Ghost's eyes seemed glaze over as she poised for another attack. Natasha struck fast, swinging out with her closed fist, but was caught short when her opponent closed in. Blocking her fist, Ghost gripped her armed hand and dipped low, gripping around Natashas shoulder and driving her hard into the mat. Natasha choked, trying hard to catch the air knocked out of her lungs.

Ghost stood up, kicking the rubber knife out of her hand easily and stared down at her with a vacant expression. "The Winter Soldier was my only friend in that hell hole." Natasha coughed, but Ghost- or Snow- barely blinked. "Don't mock me for wishing he could remember that."

Guilt washed over me at her statement.

The team stayed quiet for a moment, watching the interaction. Snow waited until Natasha's breathing had evened out before offering her a hand. Nat hesitated for a moment before taking it, Snow easily hauling her up. "You should ice your ribs, I'm sorry for hitting you so hard."

Nat smiled, "I deserved it, sorry for being an ass. I should've been a little bit more considerate."

Snow nodded, "Have Banner help you out, his heart has been hammering ever since we started. I think he worries for you."

Nat choked, staring at Snow like she had just turned into the Devil himself. "Yeah..."

Snow watched as Nat made her way towards the doors before she spoke again, "Could you ask the Captain to spare me a bit of his time? I'd like to test my limits."

My own eyes widened at that. She wanted to fight Steve. A soldier, like her, who could take her punches and give them back just the same. I glanced around Wanda who stood beside me to see Steve's brows draw into a frown. He sighed, dragging his hand down his face. He only ever really sparred with me when we trained, afraid he'd hurt someone else if he didn't watch himself. When it was the two of us against each other, we didn't have to worry.

Nat came around, leaning her weight against the glass as soon as she was out of Snow's sight. "She gives a gnarly left hook, even with her pulled punches."

Steve's frown deepened. Tony rubbed at his beard, "I think you should go in there Cap, I'd like to see it."

Steve nodded begrudgingly and entered the room. Ghost sat on the bench beside the mat, unwrapping her knuckles, and her attention remained on her flexing fingers. They were bruised and bordering bloody. Her tone held a hint of bitterness as she spoke to him, "You really shouldn't treat him like he can't handle himself because of what he's been through."

"I'm not treating him like he can't handle himself. What he's been through has nothing to do with anything. He should know not to go against Tony's orders. All of this has to do with you."

Ghost cocked her head to the side, her eyes snapping up to hold him there. "Has it occurred to any of you yet, that no one has taken the time to ask me any questions other than Bucky?"

He fell silent, and so did the rest of us. She stood, balling and releasing her fists. "So ask."

"How long have you been with Hydra?" He stepped up to the mat.

She joined him, running her fingers through her hair. "Since birth. My mother was a dedicated member. I was a gift to the cause. I never knew my parents, I was only ever told this once."

"What happened to your eyes?"

She brushed her finger across her temple on the way back to her fighting stance. "Hydra thought I would be more effective if I could fight in the dark just as well as I did in the light. They found a way to insert and attach the refractive part of an animal's eye into my own. That was after the DNA experimentation."

Steve frowned, "DNA Experimentation?" His fists balled, and he lunged for her. She dove, rolling across the mat and bouncing back up. Steve swiveled around to meet her, but instead got a kick to the gut sending him sliding a few feet back. She didn't stop there, stepping swiftly up to him and nailing him twice more in the gut before he hammered in a right hook to her side.

She dodged the next throw a little slower than last time. Steve's punch must have done a little damage. Snow grunted, shifting her weight, "I'm not exactly sure what they put inside of me, but I was almost constantly on the table if I wasn't on a mission with the Soldat. But whatever it is has its perks." She watched him, eyes glinting. "Turn off the lights, Mr. Stark."

Tony frowned, "Why does she want me to turn off the lights?"

"It's a demonstration." The words tumbled out as a memory surfaced from the recesses of my mind.

The girl, in a stance much like the one she was in while facing off with Steve, was fighting one of Hydra's strongest soldiers. There was a voice commanding for the lights to be shut off, and a click echoed throughout the room. I remembered watching from the other side of the one-way glass. Even with the enhancements I had, I couldn't see much past six feet in front of me. But she could see everything.

"Hydra used to showcase the Assets strengths through demonstrations. They were normally held in front of the higher ups. This is the only way she knows how to show you her skills."

"I am not going to harm the Captain." She stood straight, ridding herself of any aggressive posture.

Tony nodded slowly, "Friday, turn off the lights in the training room. Pull up heat vision footage in the room."

"Right away, Boss."

The lights flickered out in front of us as a hologram was projected like a chess board in front of us. Two figures were illuminated on it, one bright red and much larger, and the other was indigo and smaller. Colder. Tony spoke up, "Can you see anything, Cap?"

Steve shook his head, "Nothing."

The blue figure, the girl, stepped casually up to steve. She was mere feet away from him. "Captain," Steve jerked at her voice, "I want you to hold up any number of fingers. I need five numbers one after the other."

Steve's arm moved up and a hand was splayed on the hologram, two fingers up.

"Two," Snow spoke one after the other as he showed them. "Four, one, five, three." She sidestepped him, tapping his right shoulder causing him to swing around. She easily dodged his outstretched arm and stood beside him on the hologram. "Is that enough of an example for you, Mr. Stark?" Steve jumped again, stumbling away from her voice.

Tony sighed, "Yeah, Friday turn the lights on."

The A.I. responded with a polite reply and the lights flashed on again. Snow stood a foot or so away from a startled looking Steve with her hands folded behind her back.

"Ask another, Captain." She eyed him closely. "I prefer this over confined interrogation."

Steve gathered himself. "What do you know about the Winter Soldier?"

She paused, slowly striding over and taking a seat on the bench, sending a look towards the glass I couldn't quite place. Hesitance? Regret? "I know everything. I know his trigger words, it was required for my training in order to bring back the soldier protocols if he began to fail." She turned fully to the glass, staring through to me. "I never used them. Not even when I knew it wasn't really the Soldat I was talking to." She turned back to Steve, but her words were  like a physical blow. "He only takes orders from the one who reads him the triggers. He's jumpy and violent at first, he has to have a mission or he spirals. I have assisted him from the beginning of his experimentation, but I wasn't always his shadow... His Ghost."

Steve frowned, "What did you do for Hydra before becoming an active soldier?"

Snow picked at her cuticles, hands brushing over her split knuckles. "I was his caretaker. I treated his wounds and recalibrated his arm. I'm good with technology."

"And before that, you said your life was Hydra. Explain." I frowned at the way he spoke to her, but knew it was necessary for information.

She lifted the side of her shirt, and the rest of us outside of the rooms cringed at the large purple patch flowering on her ribs. I had to look away from the glass to shove down the sudden rage that swept through me at the sight of it.

She dropped the hem and continued, "I was given an education from a young age. Hydra had been planning to turn me into this long before I was given to them, and they wanted me to be able to blend in with society more so than the Soldat. They wanted me to be undetectable and untraceable.

"From the moment I could walk, I was trained how to hold a knife and defend myself. At the age of seven, I was taught how to shoot a gun. I was tested in multiple aspects of self defense, as well as offense. The following years were spent on repeat until my skills were perfected." She took a breath, staring hard at her knuckles. The skin was pulling itself back together.

"I made my first kill at the age of eleven. I cried after it was over and they punished me for it. 'Emotions don't exist in perfect soldiers,' they had told me. I continued to go on missions with their elite units until I could handle them on my own. Not too long after, they needed me elsewhere. I was transferred to the mechanical unit where I built the machines that contained the super soldiers.

"I met the Winter Soldier by chance, I had been walking down the west wing when he crashed through the containment door. I was ordered to subdue him. I hadn't yet been injected with the Super Serum, so it was a lot more difficult. I ended up with three shattered ribs and a fractured arm. All I did was talk to him and block his attacks until he was calm enough to be restrained. He didn't respond well to aggression, so I took another approach. It took me months to recover.

"After that, they used me to calm him down. When he was spiraling they would send me in to talk to him. He would listen to me. He never liked physical touch, I found out later that they beat him the same way they would when I failed to do as I was told. I sympathized with him. He was as scared of them as I was."

Steve took a seat on the bench opposite of her, nodding for her to continue.

She sighed, "I didn't see him for a long time, not until they had completed the serum and perfected the Winter Solder Programming. He acted like a machine, nothing like the scared man I had spoken to so many times. He didn't recognize me. That was the hardest part, when they wiped him he could never remember who I was. I had to build our bond up from scratch every time.

"Well, eventually after being around him constantly right after his brain was reset, he could remember that I wasn't like them." She frowned, "I mean that I never punished him if he spoke to me out of turn while I was re-calibrating his arm or stitching him up. He was comfortable around me even after the wipe. I didn't know how it worked, just that he forgot a lot and very frequently.

"I was still training while I worked as his caretaker. Commander Strucker thought it was time for me to see how their Winter Soldier was so remarkable. At the time, I was ecstatic to see why and how he was so efficient. I wanted to excel in hopes to impress the Comander and get put back on the front lines."

A cold look passed over her face, "Watching them tear apart his mind was the most painful thing I had ever witnessed. That was the second time I had ever cried in my life. He was... He was my only friend." She shook her head, rolling her shoulders. "After that I didn't do anything they wanted without force. They injected me with the serum and experimented on me like they had with him. They wiped me several times, trying to force me into submission again, but the serum they used wasn't the same as his. My memory always returned after a few hours. I spent a lot of time in the Cryo Chambers when I wasn't sent out to monitor and relay information on his missions. I'm sure you read my book. You can fill in the rest."

Steve just stared at her. His face was pale and his mouth moved like he wanted to say something to her but couldn't find the words.

I was angry. She had kept this from us, all of it. She had known my triggers all along, and I had told her that I had trusted her blindly. Stupid. My arm whirred as I clenched my fist.

She cleared her throat, "If that's all, I would like to retire for the evening."

Steve nodded, and no one stopped her on her way out. She glanced up at me as she passed and I couldn't help the look of betrayal that seeped into my expression. She visibly winced, dropping her head and swiftly entering the elevator. I couldn't stop thinking about her confessions, or unsee the way talking about it made her physically sick.

I succumbed to sleep late that night, and my dreams were filled with white hair and soft smiles.

Tags <3

@blackbirdwitch22 / @cjand10 / @imdoingathingmom

[shmaptainwrites]

Pay It Forward [Richard Castle]

Pairings: Richard Castle x GN!Reader

Characters: Richard Castle, (mentions of) Kevin Ryan, Javier Esposito, Kate Beckett, Martha Rodgers, Alexis Castle

Summary: Reader jumps in between Castle and a suspect before a fight and ends up spending the night confronting her feelings for the bestselling author

Warnings: descriptions of injury (non-graphic), insecurity, hospital mention

Note: And yet another Castle fic, again honestly most of this was written a few consecutive late nights in a row so I don't really know if the progression makes much sense, but I like it so who cares ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ this has been in my drafts for months wtf is wrong w me

Getting hurt in the line of duty was something in the back of the mind of every law enforcement officer. Even author Richard Castle suspected there would be an occasion or two where he’d bite the bullet (figuratively and literally). 

What he didn’t expect however was when following a lead an officer would jump between him and a suspect right before an altercation began. 

To be honest, you didn’t expect to do it either, but there was something about reflexes that you just didn’t have any control over. 

Castle tried to get in and give you a hand, but you yelled at him to stay back even though you knew you were in over your head. Your body was hopped up on so much adrenaline that it took you a moment to register when you were down. 

It wasn’t the worst you had been hurt, but you knew each of the small injuries added to one another would mean you’d be benched for the foreseeable future. 

“Shit!” you cursed as the suspect managed to get away. “Castle, call Ryan and Esposito I’m in no shape to go after this guy, make sure-ow,” you gripped onto your side as you sat up. “Make sure they have uniforms canvassing all the spots he might have gone to.” 

Castle nodded and quickly made the call for you before hanging up and putting his phone back in his pocket. 

“Hey, you don’t look too good,” he bent down next to you, noticing your split lip and a few other cuts you had around your face. Not to mention what looked like it could be a sprained ankle and a few bruised ribs.

“Been through worse, Castle,” you tried to push yourself up without much success. 

“I should take you to a hospital.” 

“No hospital,” you shook your head adamantly. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Like hell you will be,” he placed a hand around your back and helped you up, confirming his suspicions of a sprained ankle when you winced at the pressure you placed on your right foot. “If you won’t let me take you to a hospital, at least let me patch you up. I must have some things lying around at home we can make use of.” 

“Castle-,” 

“Don’t even try arguing with me on this,” he gave you a stern look. “I signed my papers, you didn’t have to jump in like that.” 

You sighed, “I know, it just sort of happened.” 

“It’s okay,” he assured you. “Just let me pay it forward.” 

You nodded your head and Castle supported you as you limped to the car. 

During the ride to Castle’s place, Ryan and Esposito called to inform you that just as you had suspected your perp had gone to one of his usual hideouts and had been intercepted by uniformed officers. Not without a fight, of course. 

“Glad that’s over,” you let out a breath and massaged your wrist. You had used it to break your fall when he had knocked you down, but you figured it was nothing that some ice and a tensor bandage couldn’t fix. 

Castle agreed with you as he pulled into the parking of his building and got out to give you a hand. You knew it was better not to fight him right now so you let him. You sent out a silent thank you to whoever invented elevators knowing your trip up would have been much more uncomfortable without it. 

As you entered Castle’s apartment, you noticed it was quieter than usual. You sat down on the couch and looked around, 

“Where’s Alexis?” 

“She’s staying at a friend’s house tonight,” Castle said while bringing the first aid kit and two ice packs to the couch. 

You stayed quiet as Castle examined the cut on your forehead, his fingers carefully brushing the skin next to it. 

He then grabbed an alcohol wipe and gave you the time old warning about it stinging. You scrunched your nose as the wipe made contact with the wound, but as soon as it started it was over and he placed two steri-strip bandages to keep the wound closed.

“You seem like you’ve had a bit of practice with this,” you said. 

“Nope,” he shook his head. “First time.” 

You chuckled a little to yourself, “Happy I could be your first something, Castle.” 

That made him break his concerned face with a small smile before turning his attention to your wrist that was already on ice. 

Similar to your own thinking he used a tensor bandage to wrap it, 

“Are you gonna tell me why you didn’t want to go to a hospital?” he asked. 

You shrugged, “I’ve been ignored in one enough times to know when I can try my luck outside.” 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said while wrapping up your wrist. “I think by this time you know my door is open if you ever need anything.” 

“Yeah, I do,” you smiled. “Thanks, Castle, really.” 

He lifted your hand up to examine his work with a smile at a job well done before pressing a small gentle kiss to the back of your hand. 

“So it can get better, of course,” he winked and you shook your head with a light laugh at his antics. “Your ribs,” he pointed to your chest. “He hit you pretty hard there, do you mind if I take a look?” 

“Castle, I thought you were a writer not an MD,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Okay, you’re right I’m not a doctor, but I’ve hurt myself before. Many, many times. At least maybe I can tell you if it’s worth seeing someone about it. Hey, I mean Lanie went to med school you could probably just go to her if you need to.” 

“And deal with Perlmutter if she’s not in? That’s my nightmare,” you shuddered.

“Come on, just give me a look. I promise no funny business,” he assured you and crossed his heart. 

You sighed deeply and winced a little, only prompting Castle to send you a pointed look which you acknowledged. 

“Fine, but not a word of this to Beckett, Esposito, or Ryan. They’ll chew my ear off if they hear I took my shirt off in front of you.” 

“Mum’s the word,” he nodded and with Castle’s help you slipped your shirt off. When you finally caught a glimpse of Castle he wasn’t even looking at your ribs, but instead right at you. 

“Castle, come on you said no funny business,” you whined. 

“No, no,” he shook his head. “I wasn’t-,” 

“Then what were you thinking about?” you raised your brows. 

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “Not important.” 

He then turned his attention to your newly formed bruise and tilted his head a little, curiously examining it. 

“I think you should get this one looked at. Doesn’t have to be tonight, but that’s a nasty hit if I’ve ever seen one.” 

“Whatever you say Dr. Castle,” you sighed and laid back on the couch. 

You looked straight ahead for a while before turning back to look at him, only to see he was staring at you again. 

“Castle, you’re really bad at pretending not to stare,” you chuckled humourlessly. “Honestly, right now I don’t think I could care less.” 

“You make it kind of hard not to stare,” he retorted. 

“Oh yeah, how so?” 

“I just can’t seem to wrap my head around how someone who just got their ass kicked can still look so beautiful.” 

You snorted, “Really, you’re a writer, Castle. I expected more from you.” 

“I’m not lying,” he handed you your shirt back. “Shirt on or off, ass kicked or not.” 

“Tell me why I don’t believe you then?” you took a moment to slip your shirt back on with a little bit of difficulty, but you managed it nonetheless. 

“Maybe I haven’t given you much reason to,” he shrugged. “Can’t blame you there. Or maybe…” 

“Maybe what?” 

“You can’t see it yourself.”

“Can’t see it-Castle, what are you talking about?” you frowned. 

“I’ve been working with you guys for over two years, it’s kind of my job to notice things,” he started. 

“And what did you notice about me?” you ventured asking. 

“You have the capacity to do your job and excel at it like no one I’ve ever seen,” he said. “But not once do you believe maybe your hunch is right. It’s always, no, let's do Beckett’s idea that seems better, you even indulge me more than you indulge yourself.” 

You chewed on the inside of your lip, he wasn’t wrong. 

“I just hope that mentality doesn’t find its way into the rest of your life too.” 

You nodded your head, lips pressed tightly together, what he had said struck a chord with you. Resonated deep inside your heart where you knew he was right. 

“And why do you care so much about me, Castle?” you dared to ask him. “Why did I jump in front of you to just get my ass kicked by our suspect? Do you have an answer to that too?” 

“I might, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it,” he chuckled lightly. 

“Maybe we should save it for another time then,” you whispered. “I think I um…I need to get back home.” 

You pushed yourself up off the couch, but Castle blocked you before you could leave. 

“Just stay here,” he said. “It’s late, you’re hurt. I-I don’t wanna leave you alone.” 

“Castle, I know your mom’s living with you again. I don’t wanna impose-,” 

“It’s not,” he shook his head and put his hands on your arms. “I swear it. You take my bed, I’ll sleep in Alexis’ room tonight.” 

You had almost already had one foot out the door, you were so ready to get the hell out of there, run away from your feelings, but before your mind could catch up your hearts words made it to your mouth and you said, 

“Okay…I’ll stay.” 

Castle smiled and nodded his head a few times, like he was taking in the fact that you had just agreed with him, to be honest, so were you. 

“Just give me a sec, I’ll grab you some stuff to take up with you,” he said before walking off to the linen closet to grab you a towel, a pillow, and an extra blanket. He came around to the stairs and motioned for you to follow him which you did

The door at the end of the hallway upstairs was the one that he led you to, pushing it open and allowing you to enter the room while he placed the things he had grabbed for you on the bed. 

“Um washroom is over there,” he pointed, “Alexis’s room is the one by the stairs. D-Do you need something to wear?” 

“Uh, no I think I can manage in these,” you looked down at the t-shirt and joggers you were wearing, thankful you had changed into your civvies before going out of the precinct. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no worries,” he nodded, walking back from his bed and coming past you. “If you need anything, I’m just down the hall.”

You nodded your head. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he pulled a package out of his pocket. “Toothbrush.”

You smiled as he handed it to you. clearly having thought of everything. 

“You sleep well,” he placed a hand on your shoulder and leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek. As he began to pull away, his eyes met with yours and before you could control your actions you could feel yourself reaching out to him. An arm wrapped around his neck, toothbrush still in hand, one hand holding his face, and before you knew it you had pulled him fully into you, your lips pressed gently against his own. 

At that moment, you didn’t care anymore, you didn’t care about fighting your feelings, about whether or not this would end terribly and whether it was a good idea in the first place. All that mattered is that you knew what you wanted, and you were going for it. 

Castle pulled away after a moment, looking again into your eyes almost asking permission. Giving you a chance to back out in case this was all some mistake. 

But when you leaned in again, he took his cue and met you in the middle. 

His hands were wrapped so gently around your waist, careful not to squeeze or press too hard, avoiding your sore spots. 

The second time you pulled apart it was for air, your foreheads resting against each other, the only sound in the room was your breathing. 

“Would you…would you stay with me?” you asked. 

He pressed another kiss to your lips and nodded. 

“Anything you want,” he whispered, and he meant it. 

You unwrapped your arm from his neck, looking down at the toothbrush in your hand with a small smile. 

“I’m gonna go…” you looked to the washroom and he nodded saying something about getting changed. 

After you finished brushing your teeth, you came back into the room just as Castle was about to slip on a t-shirt. 

“Now we’re even,” he said. “And not a word to Beckett, Esposito, and Ryan,” he teased you. 

“Come on, we both know you would love it if they knew,” you rolled your eyes and made your way closer to his bed. 

“Nah,” he shook his head and slipped on his shirt. “I think I’m okay keeping this one to myself.” 

When you sat on the edge of the bed, Castle stayed where he was, that same knowing look in his eyes.

“What are you staring at?” you asked, pulling your legs up and sitting cross-legged. 

He just shrugged and came to the other side of the bed, it was odd how you’d never noticed that look. Had he always looked at you that way? 

“Rick,” you said quietly and he nodded, showing you had his attention. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” 

He chuckled a little, “I-Well I always thought you kind of hated me.” 

“I kind of hate everybody,” you leaned back against the headboard. “I hate you a little less.” 

He laughed and you did too, until you felt the ache in your ribs, prompting you to stop.

“I’ll take it,” he reached out to hold your hand and you took it, pulling him closer until this time he took the lead and cradled your face, kissing you again. 

“You know,” you mumbled in between kisses. “You don’t have to not say things on my account, ever.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he assured you. “And you know you’ll always have a place here.” 

“I could get used to that,” you nodded, holding his face in your hands and pulling him in even closer, until there was barely any space left between you. 

He used the proximity to wrap one of his arms around the side of your waist that wasn’t bruised and pull you over more towards him, having you practically lean into his chest, until you both sunk down into the plush mattress. 

“I don’t think I’m doing your lip much good,” he murmured while brushing his thumb across where you had split your bottom lip. 

“It’ll heal,” you kissed his thumb which was still resting against your mouth. 

“And so will you, but not if we stay up all night.”

You let out a small chuckle, “Alright, Doctor Castle, I’ll rest,” you conceded, letting your head rest against his chest, just high enough that he could bend his neck and press one last kiss to your forehead. 

Closing your eyes, it felt nice to know that someone would be there to hold you when you woke up. 

[reimeichan]

TW Car Accident (I'm safe, nothing graphic described)

Was on my way home from work when I happened to be the sole witness to a car accident take place right in front of me. I'm physically fine as I wasn't directly involved. Nobody was seriously injured from what I could tell, and I managed to give my number and information to the appropriate parties involved.

However... the DID of it all is hitting me pretty hard as I look back on all this that took place not even 3 hours ago. I know for sure that I experienced a split when the accident happened, as I have a noticeable hole in my memory there and no matter how hard I (Mint) try to actually recall what happened I get nothing. However, another part of me (let's call him Gray) has supplied me with the necessary script to tell the officer at the scene: "I don't have a great memory myself, and I don't remember which car hit which car, but I do remember that the <color1> car was in front of the <color2> car and the <color1> car tailspun before they both pulled over to the shoulder with me." And I trust that the script that Gray provided me is, indeed, accurate to whatever we witnessed, even if I currently don't have access to those memories.

Additionally, we decided to stay at the scene and wait for the authorities to show up. And when the first responders showed up and told us that we were free to go so long as we shared our contact info with the affected parties, our resident little Yellow would immediately pop to front and say "That's okay, I'd rather stay if that's alright!" And each time that happened I found myself trying to rationalize why I would say that. Was I trying to be altruistic to make sure the others involved in the accident were okay? Was I staying behind because I knew there would be a language barrier between the officers and the affected parties and wanted to give as accurate an account as I could to minimize any potential for discrimination or miscommunication? And then I realized.... oh. It's because Yellow LOVES being in high adrenaline situations and finds it "fun" and "exciting" to "experience new things for the first time" (in this case, being a witness to a car accident). And she wanted to be there until the very end.

And to top it all off, I realized that I was dissociating pretty hard throughout the whole thing. I was rocking back and forth (which is my go-to self-soothing stim) and would find myself staring off into nothing, not really thinking about anything. As the go-to alter to front during crisis situations like this, I'm usually disconnected from my emotions and thus present as having a very stoic and emotionless affect, but I was aware that due to the adrenaline my muscles were tensed up and my heart rate was elevated. But I was presenting as calm, cool, and even a bit bored. Except for the times Yellow fronted. Then, I'd be peppy and excitable and smiley.

But... yeah. It was def interesting to note just how different parts of my system was reacting to this entire situation. I'm really glad that I can have this kind of insight into my psyche now lol.

[nekoannie-chan]

Personal

Character: Steve Rogers.

Word count: 120 words.

Rating: Teen.

Summary: Steve is thinking about what happened on the elevator.

Major Tags: Overthinking.

Additional tags: This is my entry to @catws-anniversary CA:TWS 10th Anniversary Event with the prompt:

"It kind of feels personal."

You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too.

@saiyanprincessswannie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

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DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

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Steve walked as fast as he could; he had to leave the motorbike abandoned; he knew he would be followed through the city's camera system; however, first he had to go back to the hospital for the memory...

He didn't understand why the Strike team had attacked him, especially Rumlow if they were supposed to be friends.

"It kind of feels personal," he kept thinking, although maybe Brock was just doing his job.

But sending in the Strike team seemed like too much; even they might have rebelled. If there was something else, though, he was going to find out what was going on.

Maybe things had never been what he thought they were, and nothing was what it seemed.

[paddockbunny]

Ancient History

Summary : Gabriel was the man you were planning to spend your future with. The only issue is the (brief) history you had with his best friend, Pierre Rating : this part would be 16+ but part 2 will be 18+ Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Reader Word Count : 1,646 Trigger Warnings : another cheating trope one in here! Lingerie mention but nothing particularly graphic enough for a warning Gif Credit : @housepandacrimes (not sure if this is the right tag so if this gif is yours please let me know so I can update to the right tag!!)

Your arms felt like they were about to break from being weighed down by shopping bags. You never really got to go shopping very often because you had such a packed work schedule. Being a business owner was hard but the hard work paid off when you made your first million, then your first ten million and well, let’s just say you would never have to work ever again if you wanted. But today you were taking a well earned break and done a little retail therapy.

Thing was, when you pulled into your parking garage and saw several very nice expensive luxury cars near by you had an incline your fiancé was not alone. There was a PSG match on this afternoon and you considered getting back into your car and driving off again because seriously, you couldn’t cope with his friends. One or two were ok - the settled down ones - but the the single ones were absolute nightmares. Especially Pierre fucking Gasly.

See, you had actually (and rather naively) “dated” Pierre for the summer months, two ago before he introduced you to Gabriel and the rest was history. You fell for Gabriel the second you lay eyes on him and thankfully vice versa. However, Pierre seemed to resent you and Gabriel and he continually made things feel awkward for you by being incredibly over familiar and suggestive. He would openly flirt with you in front of your fiancé and always laugh it off with the insulting phrase “been there, done that” like I was some car or rollercoaster to ride and be done with.

As you purposefully strolled over to the elevator from the car park up to your penthouse floor, you saw the car with his PG10 licence plate and internally screamed. Fuck! You groaned aloud as you pressed for the elevator. Why him? Gabriel knew you didn’t like him in your home, preferring to keep him on neutral ground so he didn’t snoop and pry too much.

You just needed to say hi. You just needed to be civil. He was here to watch the game he wouldn’t cause any drama. You left the elevator and entered your apartment, heels clacking on the floor signalling your arrival. The loud roars coming from the lounge were evidence that something must have happened in the game and you thought you might have been able to sneak upstairs without them even noticing. But your name was called by your fiancé seconds later and you groaned. The rest of his friends were fine in general, rowdy, single types that did nothing more than break girls hearts. But Pierre was the gang leader and you knew he had tried to break you and Gabriel up for his own selfish egotistical reasons.

“You had a good time?” You boyfriend asked when you appeared after taking a deep breath and putting on your game face. “Wonderful.” You replied and held up your numerous shopping bags. Gabriel tore his eyes away from the game to come over to you, kiss you gently and ask if you had brought him anything. You smirked and quietly suggested it isn’t something he himself could wear but he would certainly enjoy it. “…In fact, I’m going to go upstairs and try it on right now to make sure it fits.” You winked and he bit his bottom lip playfully. It was the best way to get out of the room.

You felt eyes on you - ones that didn’t belong to your man. He was so arrogant and his behaviour that comes out around you is almost possessive. He still can’t comprehend you chose another man over him.

Fixing the bra in place you pushed your tresses back over your shoulders and inspected the barely there sheer black fabrics JUST covering the important parts of your anatomy. The garter belt was a touch too small and you perhaps should have sized down on the bra but overall it was pretty and when Gabriel saw it you wouldn’t be in it very long anyway. You had put some music on while you got to trying the things you had purchased on and so when the door opened slightly you missed it. You kept looking at different angles of yourself in the mirror. Twisting and checking out how good the thing part looked and how peachy perfect your ass was. All the work with your personal trainer was pulling off. You readjusted the too tight garter belt again, trying to make it work but also trying to make sure you could breathe, and a low purring came from the doorway.

Gabriel. You thought instantly. So excitedly turned to show him the items you bought for him - but not FOR him - eyes wide and smile equally so. Expecting he really couldn’t wait any longer and he forgot all about the game downstairs an electricity shot through your body at the prospect of him coming to fuck you while his friends waited for him. But your eyes did not meet familiar coffee brown ones. They met a pair of steely slate grey ones that you had tried so hard to forget over the past two and a half years.

“What are you doing?” You gasped through gritted teeth. He was casually leaning against the door frame, arms crossed snuggly across his chest with his signature overtly confident smirk painted upon his mouth. His ignored your question in favour of simply holding your gaze and you knew he wanted you to crumble. He persisted in continually telling you he knew you still wanted him over the years and it only got worse after Gabriel proposed to you. It was almost as if Pierre couldn’t stand not coming out the winner and viewed you as the ultimate prize - even though he very much enjoyed the fruits of his celebrity and had a multiple girls on the go at once because commitment was not his strong suit.

“You have to leave.” The words rushed out of you after his eyes trailed slowly down your body. Drinking in the sight of you in expensive lingerie. For a second you allowed the fact that he wouldn't be able to control his mind and all of the dirty thought raging in it. He wouldn’t be able to refrain from getting hard just from looking at you like this, knowing what lies underneath. He’s looking at you like he wants to tear you apart. Rip the items off your body and consume you right there not giving a single fuck if he lost the decades long friendship of the man sitting watching football downstairs. You swallowed. You couldn’t think about that. Pierre had been a moment of madness that lead you to meeting the love of your life. The ring on your finger proved that. And yet, as Pierre stepped foot inside of the room and closed the door behind himself you couldn’t help but remember how good Pierre was in bed. How commanding and in charge he was. How no one had ever made you get off faster, or harder, than he did.

“Pierre, don’t. You shouldn’t be here.” You tried to get the upper hand as he took long, slow steps toward you like he was a lion stalking his prey. “You look insane, Mon amour.” You didn’t focus on the words that left his mouth. You knew how much of a seducer he was. A modern day Casanova. You went to grab the shirt from the bed that you had taken off earlier and he took several confident, quick strides toward to you stop you.

“Don’t cover up.” He growled “let me see you.” “I’m not yours to see, Pierre.” You fought back. Stating nothing more than a pure and simple fact. He had done this before. Stayed overfamiliar and confident when he really shouldn’t have been. The man didn’t know decorum and boundaries.

“And whose fault is that?” He asked, now almost close enough you could smell his expensive foreign cologne. You rolled your eyes. He had done this before. Tried to convey it was you that ruined what the pair of you had by falling in love with one of his best friends. But he knew the reality, he knew his own playboy behaviour called endgame for the pair of you. You don’t really come back from finding another girls panties under your boyfriends pillow 10 weeks into your new relationship. Pierre simply didn’t want to feel like he was the one at fault and always tried to paint you as the “girl who got away”. His head dipped a little and that fucking grin appeared on his face before he said your name. “Pierre, I’ve warned you. Please leave.” You stated as you felt a sudden ache appear between your thighs that you felt you had absolutely zero control over. You swallowed again, hoping it wouldn’t be noticeable how your body wanted to react to him.

“I can see you don’t want me too.” His eyes cast down to your sheer bra and your responsive nipples gave you away. “Gabriel is downstairs. If he comes in here and sees you…” It didn’t nothing to Pierre. Mentioning his friends name did nothing. He had no reaction. He didn’t seem to care. He just kept his eyes focused on your practically naked body still on display to him. He had to see how fast your heart was beating in your chest and how your breathing was rapid. He always enjoyed making you squirm, making you feel awkward around him. But this was another level.

“Pierre….” You breathed when he was close enough to touch.

“When will you give up the notion that he wants you more than I do?” Pierre’s words almost took the air right out of your lungs. “That silly little ring means nothing.”

There will be a part two to this but please don’t hound me and ask me when!!!

[midwestmade29]

Rekindled ❤️

(A continuation of "Broken Promise")

To Anonymous: Thank you for reading my original story and for your request! It makes me so happy knowing you enjoyed it 🥹 I know my story is pretty lengthy, but it covers a lot of ground! I had so much fun writing it 🖤

Original Anonymous Request: "I absolutely loved that last fic! Anyway we can get something where the two end up reconnecting, rekindling, and end up together in the end after Christian’s divorce? I feel like even though they had a rough relationship growing up, you can’t tell me they aren’t soulmates. You can’t tell me this man had secretly loved here since they were young and didn’t realize it until she got into her high school and college era. I love this so much dude 😩🫶🏼❤️"

Disclaimers: Anger, physical altercation, fighting (verbally), cursing, angst. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 2,682

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Side note: This story is officially complete. I won't be adding anything else to it. You can read the first part of the story here and also the prequel to the story here! Thanks for following along 🖤

Adam noticed that you had been MIA again for the last half hour of your party. He knew you couldn’t have gotten far, so he started searching the house for you. He was about to knock on your bedroom door, his fingers already against the wood but he stopped when he heard you crying. His heart sank as he stood and listened to your cries turn into sobs! When he couldn’t take it any longer, he opened your door just a crack and spoke softly, “Hey, sis. What’s wrong? Can I come in?” You were curled in a ball on your bed with your face buried in your hands, but you managed to let out a pathetic “yes” in response. He came and sat at the foot of your bed, fidgeting while trying to figure out how to proceed with your conversation. “Did something happen at the party? Talk to me, sis,” he prodded. When you sat up and looked your brother in the eyes, the flood gates opened, words and tears flowing freely, leaving you out of breath by the time you were finished. It was obvious the more you carried on, the more Adam’s anger grew. His hands were balled into fists that rested on his thighs and his jaw was clenched so tightly you don’t know how his teeth didn’t break! You didn’t go into every detail about the relationship you and Christian had before, sparing him the part about losing your virginity to him, but everything else was no longer a secret. Hurt flashed in his eyes when you apologized for not telling him sooner, leaving you wishing that you could take it all back and rewrite the past. In between sniffles you peered over at your brother who was clearly conflicted on how to feel about the situation, and he damn near exploded when you asked him what he was thinking. With every word he said, his voice became more elevated, “What am I thinking? WHAT am I thinking right now? I’m thinking about how my baby sister and my best friend kept this huge secret from me for 2 years. I’m thinking about how stupid I am for not seeing how things really were that summer. I must be going fucking blind and need to get my eyes checked! I’m trying to come up with a reason not to kill that blonde son of a bitch with my bare hands right now! He not only made you cry again, but he broke a promise. That’s unacceptable in my book."

You begged and pleaded with Adam to calm down when he jumped up off your bed and darted out the door in search of Christian. Rage was radiating off him as he checked behind every door, looking for his best friend around every corner in the house before finding him sitting outside on the front porch. The loud thud the door made when Adam threw it open made everyone jump! “What the hell, man? You alright?” Christian asked as he stood up. Adam walked over to him and got mere inches away from his face and shouted, “No, dumbass! I’m not alright! I know about you and my little sister. I know all about the summer you shared!” Christian’s eyes darted between yours and your brother’s, unsure of how to proceed. You pulled on Adam’s arm trying to get him to come back inside, but he brushed you off. Your brother’s chest was rising and falling rapidly with each shallow breath he took, the veins in his forehead protruding while he waited for Christian to say something. “Look, Adam we were going to tell you. Time just got away from us, and our relationship was over at the end of the summer anyways. It’s in the past now,” he explained, but Adam wasn’t having any of it. Your brother shoved Christian once, making him stumble back a little before shoving him again and again. “You’ve had 2 years to tell me asshole! How could you keep something like that from me, man?! And why my baby sister? Why her?!” Christian grew more irritated the more Adam jabbed his finger into his chest, and the atmosphere quickly became more tense. You knew you had to try and separate the two of them and you gave it your best effort when you cried out, “Please, Adam! Go back in the house and try to calm down. You’re not thinking straight right now, and I don’t want this to get any worse. I’m begging you! Please!” Something made Christian snap, one could blame it on Adam’s harsh words or his death stare, but what came out of Christian’s mouth next knocked the wind right out of you without even being touched, “You make it sound like this was all my doing! Y/N isn’t innocent in all this you know! It takes two to tango and boy did we tango a lot that summer!”

You weren’t sure what was louder, Adam shouting “YOU FUCKED HER?!” or the sound of his fist connecting with Christian’s face. One punch led to two and eventually both men ended up rolling around on the ground! After Christian landed a couple punches of his own on your brother’s face, he had him pinned to the ground. It didn’t last long though since Adam’s 6’5 frame overpowered him! Your brother’s voice was eerily calm when he spoke again and you could see the anguish written on his face, “First you take my little sister’s innocence, then you break the promise you made the both of us! Not to mention you kept all of this from me. Go fuck yourself.” He let go of Christian as he stood up and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. He immediately clutched his ribcage as pain radiated from the area, and winced when he touched the giant goose egg that was already forming on his forehead. Christian didn’t look any better while he laid on the ground groaning and trying to catch his breath. No further words were shared between any of you that night. Everything that did- and didn’t- need to be said was already out in the open. When your mother caught wind of the situation, she was thankful no one was seriously injured and that no one in the neighborhood called the police. Later on, you looked out the front window and noticed Christian was no longer there. He must’ve gone to his parent’s house when he was finally able to peel himself off the ground. You didn’t see Christian again after that night. Your brother didn’t talk to you for weeks after everything went down the way it did. You called him hundreds of times and sent countless text messages, but you never got a reply. You apologized and begged him to talk to you in every voicemail you left him. Eventually you got the hint and gave him the time and space he needed even though it hurt like hell not being able to talk to your big brother. You could only hope that what they say is true, “time heals all wounds.”

1 year later ⏭️

Almost a month after the fight happened, Adam started talking to you again! The two of you had several long and difficult conversations about everything that went on the night of your graduation party and the summer you and Christian spent together. While things felt like they were back to normal, you knew deep down inside that your relationship with your brother had been altered a little bit. You were shocked to learn that Christian was the one to call Adam and make amends with him! They somehow worked through everything and rekindled their friendship. He even asked Adam to be the best man at his wedding!

“You know you’re invited too,” your mom’s voice startled you when she walked into the kitchen unannounced. You had been staring at Christian’s wedding invitation that seemed to mock you every time you approached the fridge. It took everything in you not to yank it down and rip it to shreds! “There’s no way I’m going! It must’ve been an oversight on someone’s part including my name on it. Do me a favor, don’t write my name on the wedding card you got them.”

Christian’s big day had eventually come and gone, and you made sure to avoid hearing anything about it. One day when you were in the checkout line at the grocery store, a magazine cover caught your eye. You tossed it in the cart when you noticed who was on the front and looked over it in your car. You sat in the parking lot for a good 30 minutes crying over the stunning picture of Christian and his new bride. You read over the article more times than you should’ve, eyes skimming over the words that described every detail of their grand affair. Your heart was aching by the time you tossed the magazine into the backseat, the realization settling in that you and Christian were nothing more than a long-gone memory.

Over the next several years, Adam’s popularity in the professional wrestling world continued to skyrocket. He was definitely a fan favorite! While you enjoyed watching him achieve his career goals and dreams, your favorite thing he accomplished was marrying his wife and giving you two beautiful nieces. Seeing him this happy meant the world to you, and you could only hope that you would find the same happiness one day too. You were thriving in your own ways, having a successful career of your own, a great group of friends that you adore, checking things off your bucket list left and right, and spending time with your mom every chance you got. You focused on the things that really mattered to you and embraced your independence! As far as you knew, Christian and his wife were doing well but you hadn’t heard anything about them in a long time. Even though you tried to forget him, the memories of growing up together and falling in love with him crept in your mind from time to time. There had been several guys that tried to pursue you over the years, but none of them ended up capturing your heart the way that Christian did. You had been in one long term relationship that helped ease the sting of loneliness, but you knew it wasn’t fair to keep them around when your heart still longed for someone else. You eventually let them go, and the sadness in their eyes when you told them it was over still haunts you to this day.

For Adam’s last match before he officially retired, he wanted you and your mom ringside along with his wife and your nieces to cheer him on! You were hesitant at first to do it, but you agreed when your brother reassured you that Christian wouldn’t be there due to having other obligations. Everything with Adam’s match went well and it was over in the blink of an eye! All 5 of you girls cried when the referee gave the final 3 count as Adam laid in the center of the ring. During the commercial break he walked over and hugged each of you and thanked you all for loving him and supporting him all this time. The company he worked for was throwing him a party after the show was off the air, and once it began, he was being pulled in every direction as more and more people wanted to congratulate him. Your mom was with your nieces at the dessert table while your sister-in-law mingled with some of the female wrestlers. You found yourself alone standing at a tall cocktail table sipping on your drink, just taking in the different sights and sounds of the party. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw someone standing near your table, but when you turned to get a better look, they were gone. You brushed it off and returned your gaze to the party. “Come join us aunt Y/N!” your nieces called out to you from the dance floor. You weren’t really in the mood to dance, but what kind of aunt would you be to decline such a sweet invitation?

“Again! Again!” your nieces cheered as you twirled them around simultaneously! The song playing was upbeat and fun and you were enjoying laughing and smiling with your favorite little girls. All too soon it started to fade out and was replaced by a slow song instead. Everyone except for a few couples left the dance floor, and you were on your way back to your table when an old familiar voice stopped you in your tracks, “Hey, Y/N. It’s…been a long time.” Christian’s greeting instantly took you back to the night of your graduation party when he addressed you the same way. Your stomach did a flip when you turned and took in the sight of him. He was still as handsome as ever; time had clearly treated him well! Your reply was shy and quiet as his blue eyes bore into you, “Hi, Christian…” He cleared his throat before speaking again, clearly just as nervous as you were being face to face after all this time. “Um, would you like to dance?” he asked sheepishly. You were hesitant at first, but the way he was looking at you made your resolve fade and the next thing you knew; you had your arms wrapped around his neck and the two of you were swaying along with the music.

A few moments passed in silence, the both of you unsure of what to say but Christian eventually spoke up, “You look great, Y/N. How are you?” His compliment made a small smile form in the corner of your mouth which made him smile too. “I’m fine, thank you. But um, what are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it tonight. If you haven’t already, you’ll have to find Adam! I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you,” you replied. “I decided being here for Adam was more important that my original plans. I watched the match from backstage. I was also hoping you would be here. It’s good to see you, Y/N.” His last few words made you blush, but the pink that covered your cheeks faded away when you remembered an important detail, Christian is married! You dropped your arms from around his neck causing concern to envelop his handsome features. “Where’s your wife?” you asked, even though you didn’t want to know the answer. His response shocked you, “Actually, we’re divorced. Everything was finalized a few months back. Marrying her was a mistake and it’s something I deeply regret. I had no idea what I was doing back then and I sure as hell don’t know what I’m doing right now, but I had to see you Y/N. Over the years I probably asked Adam and your mom about you more than I should’ve, but it made me happy knowing that you were doing so well. I never stopped thinking about you, not even once! I’m sorry it took me so long to realize what an idiot I am. I just hope I’m not too late.”

It had been 4 months since Adam’s retirement party. 4 months since that night ended with Christian asking you if he could see you again. 4 months since you and your soulmate rekindled your love for one other. It’s been quite the journey to get to this point, but you’re so thankful you and Christian found your way back to each other. Everyone knew that it wouldn’t be long before Christian would propose to you, and you couldn’t wait to be his wife! When the time comes for you to recite your vows to one another, Christian would be making a new promise to you that he would continue to love you for the rest of your lives and the tears he will make you cry that day will be tears of pure joy.

[ash-whimsicalfanfic]

Serendipity (CH 7)

Leroy Jethro Gibbs X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 975

Warnings: Mild language, fluff, smut, angst, graphic scenes, death, murder, gore, violence, mature material…

Prompt: You have a major crush on Gibbs, however you choose to push it away as you fear he doesn’t feel the same way. Suddenly there is a bunch of chances that lead to a happy ending…

I snapped more pictures, feeling mortified. The longer I was in this room, the sicker to my stomach I felt. I was more than in his head. It was like I was looking through his eyes and I hated it. No one else knew what I've found yet. They've grabbed what I asked for, and asked questions, but I couldn't explain it.

I did a few sketches whilst I waited for them to get a camera and evidence box. I was eager to start bagging the pictures and putting them in the box. I wanted to get out of this room.

"Y/N/N, what did you find?" Ziva asks.

"I found out that our unsub is obsessive, compulsive, a stalker, and delusional. Not to mention a psychopath. He had motive, he made a plan and followed through. He has had to have been doing this for months." I say, continuing to quickly box everything for Abby.

"He is done killing, right?" Tim asks.

"I want to say yes, but it seems as our unsub was becoming unhinged. If he kills again, the victim will no doubt look like our first female victim." I say.

I set the camera in the box before pushing it through the tunnel. I crawl through it and Gibbs helps me up. I let a deep breath out, wishing I hadn't found that room.

"Do I want to know?" Tony asks.

"No. You don't. But, you'll have to know for the case. It's just sickening." I mumble.

"It's the job." Tim sighs.

"Try being a profiler. I hate getting in the minds of these guys." I grumble.

"Then don't." Gibbs says. 

"Easier said than done." I sigh.

I was more than eager to get off that ship. I rode back with Gibbs, but it was silent. I couldn't get out of my head. I hated how easy it was to understand the mind of a killer, for me at least. As much as I'm happy that my abilities help me get justice for people, it still makes me feel...numb.

"Y/L/N." Gibbs says, hurrying to catch up with me.

I tiredly hum, pressing the elevator button. I could feel his stare on me, but I step onto the elevator knowing he would too.

"What's going on?" He asks.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You got quiet." He says.

"You always are quiet." I point out.

"Yeah. But, you aren't. You like to talk, whether it be the case or maybe about some book...or something that makes you happy. Even if you aren't talking, you like to hum. But, you were quiet." He says.

I was surprised by how much he's noticed about me. For someone who seems busy all the time or tries to avoid me...he knows me quite well.

"I'm just tired." I sigh.

"Go home. Get some rest." He says.

The elevator doors open and I shake my head. I had some stuff to finish up. He sighs, following me to the bullpen. I grab the box that Tony sat on my desk and decided to go ahead and bring it down to Abby's lab.

"Y/N! You brought me a gift." Abby says.

"Abs, don't look to into this. Just see if you can pull any prints off these. Okay? I don't want you to get upset by this." I say, setting the box on a table.

"Okay...are you okay?" She asks.

"Of course!" I lie and she studies me.

"I'm no profiler, but I know a liar when I see one. Talk to me." She urges and I sigh, sitting on one of the metal tables.

"I sometimes just hate getting into the mind of an unsub. It use to be such an interesting thing and I found myself wanting to get into the most notorious serial killers heads, but now...I just hate it. I hate the way I can so easily find myself in their head. It's not just their head. It's like I'm seeing everything through their eyes. It plays out like a movie and I hate it. I hate the way it makes me feel. It's sickening and I'm just so tired." I ramble.

"Oh, Y/N." She murmurs.

"I know it's my job...that's why I'm here at NCIS. I'm a profound profiler. So, no matter how much it affects me...I can't stop. That's why I was added to Gibbs' team. If I can't do my job, what am I? Nothing. I just get in the way. And yeah...the team relies a lot on my skills and we get through our cases pretty fast, but it's so tiring." I say.

"Have you talked to Gibbs about it?" She asks.

"God no and I don't plan to, Abby. I think I just need to sleep. It'll pass. Or maybe I need to take a small vacation. Who knows? I'll see you later. I got some paperwork to finish up. If you need anything, you know where I am. Love you!" I say.

I pull her into a hug, seeing the troubled look on her face. I kiss her cheek and give her a big smile before I leave. It immediately leaves my face and I was eager to climb into the elevator. I lean my head against the wall, waiting for the doors to open.

I walk back to my desk, sitting down as I begin to work on some paperwork. I look up when my lamp goes off. It was Gibbs.

"Go home." He says.

I sigh, waiting till he starts heading towards the elevator. I stand, grabbing my purse and keys as I wait for the doors to shut. I let a sigh of relief out before sitting.

I turn the lamp on my desk and start working on some more paperwork.

[crazy-lazy-elder-sims]

-the Tired accountant and the senior Designer pt2-

Hello again i decided to expand on my sims for the simblr office idea by @kashisun once again thank you for this and apologies if im a bit spammy im slightly excited lmao

Okay buckel up folks cause im about to take you on a journey TM lol

Introducing our office babes

Christian Sinclare:

33 years old but feels 50

Doesn't like coffee but drinks it to stay awake

His favorite color is Naomi's hair color👀

..... And sage green

Literally the only accountant in this company that you can talk to that wont bring up budget cuts in the first 5 mins

His favorite meme is the "keep calm and carry on" meme but people call him an old man if he brings it up. #leavesinclarealone2023

Always works late but only because he prefers to finish the financial reports on the same day he started them so he can sleep at night (anxiety gang hello👋)

So many coworkers from other depratments come down and talk to him about various Accounting things he has no idea why its not like he is the manger or head of the department ( its because he is handsome and all the peeps want a piece of him he's just too cluless to notice)

Obsessed with the presence of Mathematical algorithms in nature and everyday life

His favorite is how Bats can find the exact location of things using echo location and the math behind that

The golden Ratio is another obsession and he spends his days off in Museums observing painting that has them

Naomi Marroquin:

31 years old iced coffee addict

Her hair color was an accidental dark red home hair dye job that went wrong but she liked it so much she kept it for years

Her favorite color is red

Hates staying late and leaves the office at 5 o'clock sharp and no one can stop her (trust me they tried)

Says she doesn't care for all the office gossip and scandal but she is besties with the one HR employee from how much she goes down there to get the juicy gossip

Is the senior graphic designer but the graphic department head put her in charge of Budgeting and making exel sheets for the accounting department because she was the only one with "excel proficiency" on her resume

That was a lie

The first time she got assigned an excel sheet assignment she googled "how to learn excel fast" then added " for dummies" exactly 2 mins later

She oftten clashes withthe Accounting department on thier requestes to lower costs and cut out quality

Hates doing all the obove through email and tries to meet anyone from the accounting department but they all avoid her because they have no time for her 30 mins lectures about the importance of paper quality

Fun facts:

Naomi is taller than Christian 💓

Naomi used her personal email on accident for her resume which is called: Naomi.is.da.best.2012@simail.com but they hired her anyway because they desperately needed someone with excel skills

Naomi's corporate style is inspired by her mom who used to be a corporate goth but naomi is not one (infact some of her office Fashion staples were given to her by her mom)

Christian's second reason for staying late is that he hates going home to an empty quiet small Appartment and prefers the feel of the big spaces of the office

Christian refuses not not wear any sort of jacket during his workday but once the day is over and everyone leaves he takes of his jacket loosens up his tie and takes out his bun to feel more comfortable

Naomi once saw christian at a museum staring really hard at a painting then she saw that painting printed on a corset the next day it made her laugh so much she had to buy it for work

One day Naomi wore tights with bats on them (vintage 😉) when she arrived at work and "happened" to get in the elevator with Christian he instantly said "nice bats" but then panicked and went into how much he loves bats for 10 mins straight. Naomi instantly fell for that panicked rizz lol

Next day she came to the office with some nice bat earing but swears its not related to Christian and his love of bats(it is) and its NOT HER GIVING HIM SIGNS OMG GUYS DO YOU WANT ME TO GET WRITTEN UP TO HR( she totally was)

How they got close and began working together:

After a particularly tough day at work of having to stay late and trying to get through to the accounting department because they wont budge on buying the expensive colored ink for thier printers and how not doing that will compromise the color quality plus almost calling the accounting manger an uneducated potato,

she decided to pass by the empty (or so she thought) accounting department to let out some cuss words at a poor empty desk, she saw Sinclare sitting there tie loosened and all and decided to try again and convince him to not cut the important supplies from the budget

How she thought that conversation went:

How it actually went:

After he recovered from that he told her he will help her write better more convincing reports to present to the department and from then on they became friends (who are trying so hard and failing not to fall for each other)

Aaand Thats all for now folks if you read all that i wanna say thank you i love getting super inspired like this its so much fun! Tell me what you think of the babes here im So excited!

Thank you again to kashisun for this extremely fun idea❤️

[ageless-aislynn]

I've been just taking it really easy these past few days since I haven't felt very good, so I've been playing around with getting achievements for Dead Rising. The first day I played, I had Frank try on a bunch of different outfits, then I ended up leaving him in the last one he'd put on because I started working on something else. Now, I think it would kinda look weird to me if I changed it. So here's my Frank while I'm saving having a quick nap:

C'mon, Frank is WORKING that little black dress with the tasteful white shirt underneath, isn't he? The work boots make a good metaphorical statement for looking good but still able to do business. The business of... kicking zombies right in the face, yeah! 🧟🥾

And yes, he's laying his head on a mannequin leg. We were escorting a survivor, Greg, dang it, who had one little sliver of health left so I had to give him my health item so he could make it back alive and therefore I KEPT GETTING KILLED. I gave Greg a machine gun to defend himself with but he was bad about shooting me RIGHT in the back and killing me. Greg. 🤬 However, it worked out well when we opened the elevator that was packed full of zombies and I shoved Greg in front of me and he actually mowed them all down. Good job, Greg! *patpat* Anyway, we were heading back to the safe area and me and Frank were raining down THE LAW with a dumbbell that unfortunately broke. I was standing on some mannequin pieces and that's the first thing I could pick up. Hey, me and Frank work with what we have in order to save lives, man!

No, really, it was no problem. Happy to help. 😜

I was hoping to get a front and back shot in the mirror at the gym but it didn't work out that well. 🤷‍♀️

Frank and Jessie. I could ship it. *nodnods as if there was ever any doubt*

Heh, I just noticed the stick figures on the board behind them. 😂

Frank: "Look, Jessie, I have detailed out a plan where you and I will escape and live happily ever after!"

Jessie: "That's not the sort of game this is, Frank."

Frank: "Work with me, Jessie. I just dragged Machine Gun Greg all the way back to the safe room and died a whole bunch of times; I need some hope, okay???"

And on that graphic design is my passion note, I probably should get some sleep right about now, hm? 🤔😉😂

Anybody out there reading this who has played Dead Rising? Sound off if you have! 😎👍

Love you, frens, hope you're doing well! 🤗💖

PS - I can't blame Frank if his heart is torn, btw.

I'm pretty sure right now Frank is mentally adding a third stick figure to that board... 😜💖

Jessie: (yelling from the Security Room) "It's still not that sort of game, Frank!"

Frank: 🤷‍♂️

[silkendandelion]

Mirage In The Desert - Chapter 1

A One Piece fanfiction, Table Of Contents

Sir Crocodile x OC (male)

Words: 70.4k

Genre: Drama, angst, smut, fluff

Summary: Keep your friends close and enemies closer. But how close do you keep a liability? In the time leading up to Operation Utopia, Crocodile employs an Alabastan local in Baroque Works.

Rated Explicit for sexual content (Chapters 1, 2, 6), moments of graphic violence and death, mentions of suicidal thoughts (8) and toxic relationship dynamics. Rating changes published per chapter.

Cross-posted to ao3, same username, here. Thank you for reading, and as always, please enjoy.

~*~

“Sir, dinner is ready. Shall I prepare the dining hall?” Crocodile looked up from his paperwork to see the servant in his doorway. He blew smoke between them, already calculating how much work he had left, and the unusually calm air of the evening.

“…It’s quiet.”

“Yes, Sir, it is.” Crocodile raised an eyebrow, and the servant scrambled to catch up to the conversation.

“Pardon me—no one has seen Mr. Faustina since breakfast. Perhaps he has gone to Oasis?”

“Doubtful, King tide is tomorrow. Serve dinner in my study. Chill the wine.”

“Yes, Sir,” They said as Crocodile arranged his papers and went for his coat.

Raindinners might have been the face of nightlife in Rainbase, but on a quiet weekday night the secluded waterways behind the property felt akin to a private island. Winding paths of water gave enrichment to the Bananawani, and a few were just narrow enough they were relatively safe for swimming. Stone overhangs and imported trees kept it shaded from the relentless sun and automatic lights were triggered by sunset to illuminate crystalline mosaic floors.

It only barely reminded him of his home island, but the saltwater swims were the most comfort River had found since coming to the city almost a year prior.

Crocodile approached the shore to see him hoist himself out of the water with toned arms, waves stuck to his dripping skin as he let the water run off him in sheets. Droplets ran down the muscles of his abdomen, clinging to his jewelry and holding his swimsuit flush to his hips. The warlord wanted to mention how much his hair has grown in only nine months but feared to break the facade they built for when others could see them; a false image River shattered whenever he did things like removing his bottoms in broad daylight while any one of the staff could come outside and see Crocodile there too, incriminating, trying to look nonchalant like a pervert would.

“I scrubbed the Bananawani. Could really use a bath,” River said as he pulled fresh bottoms up his legs. He redressed while Crocodile lit a fresh cigar, failing to look nonchalant.

“Dinner first. You’ve been out here all day, and I doubt you’ve nibbled off the Bananawani’s plates.”

“It’s funny, Coco keeps trying to share with me. I’m not sure how long I can keep pretending to accept until I hurt his feelings.”

“Just don’t be in the water when he figures it out.”

River’s laugh alerted the servants to their return, and most took great care to not be noticed watching the pair as they walked together. There were already plenty of rumors about the handsome man from Alabasta’s territory island of Oasis who came to Raindinners nine months ago. They speculated his involvement in Crocodile’s business, how it related to Oasis’ position in the tumultuous political climate, but they all knew for sure the two were involved. Crocodile’s rules of touch were absolute, yet curious eyes could sometimes catch him pushing a curl behind the other man’s ear, rest a hand on his back, or nudge his chin for a kiss—what the servants assumed would be a kiss were the pair not so quick to catch wandering eyes.

But no one scolded them this time, and anyone who walked by could see the pair waiting for the elevator, arm in arm.

In Crocodile’s suite, his guest immediately spotted the papers in piles on his desk. “I’m not the only one who spent the entire day working.”

He gave a noncommittal grunt as he popped open the wine. “Your fascination with the Bananawani can hardly be called a job when I don’t pay you. And if I was your boss, we’d have to talk about the amount of time you spend sunbathing on the clock.”

“You are my boss.”

“You’re not on the clock.”

He cleared his throat when he saw River lean over his desk, mindful to keep his wet hair away from the documents that were sorted into categories but otherwise on display.

“What? Is it a secret? I saw Mr. 2’s name, I have some right to snoop when it involves my partner. Are we being deployed soon?”

“You’ll get your briefing when they do. We’re having dinner.”

River sauntered back to the table to see him trying to look unbothered, spinning a ring on his finger and wearing what he might have called a pout if his patience wasn’t already thin. Dinner was an important ritual for them, especially when they had neither seen nor heard from each other all day long. And Crocodile didn’t care to wait at all, let alone while he watched his insouciant lover meander around his apartment like he didn’t visit every day.

“...Crocodile.”

“Hm.”

River went passed his empty chair to get into the warlord’s space, placing a knee on the chair between his legs and reaching out to begin folding back the sleeves on his dress shirt. First his good hand, then his left, and Crocodile flinched when the cold metal of his hook brushed River’s thigh like he was the one spooked by it’s chill. When River finally began undoing the cravat at his neck, he spoke.

“What are you doing?” He said quietly, a fond rumble in his chest at the way his lover dressed him down. Were they a normal couple in a less complicated life, Crocodile could easily imagine those hands taking off his shoes after work, offering a variety of comfort after hours away.

His cigar rested in the ash tray while the Oasin leaned over him with intent, eyes lidded and the soft sweeps of his neck and chest close enough to see his heartbeat. Crocodile felt his pants tighten, it would only take one hand to pull River onto his lap and hold him still while he tasted the hollows of his collarbones, he knew from experience they tasted like almonds—

“Dinner is supposed to be a relaxing activity. You look a bit high strung.” A single, playful finger gave his belt a tug.

River’s ribbing was cold water on his lust, and he pinched his smirking cheek as he finally stepped away. He finished dressing down in his room, meanwhile his lover waited patiently for the click of him removing his hook, the muted sound of it placed on it’s cabinet.

Distracted by the wine, he didn’t hear him come back, making a startled hiccup when cool lips stole a kiss from the side of his neck, jeweled hand holding his jaw.

“Eat your food,” Crocodile said in his ear, a quiet thunder that commanded obedience and sent a shiver down River’s spine. His eyes followed the hand that released his neck, and he watched Crocodile lower himself into his seat, fatigued by an invisible burden.

He looks exhausted. River thought as he sipped, finally finding his fork and pushing down questions he knew would go unanswered.

They ate in a comfortable silence despite the way River inhaled all three courses before Crocodile even finished his palette cleanser between one and two. At the risk of their manners, he poured him another glass of wine.

“I saw Goillard’s poems in your bag. Have you finished it?”

River swallowed and nearly sloshed his cup in his burst of excitement. “I finished it this morning, I couldn’t put it down. Coco got frustrated because I read too long and his brushing came late.”

“He’s needy because you spoil him.”

They talked until the sun was long gone, lounging on the parlor sofa until they ran out of wine and wandered back to the study for dessert. Dessert became, “Let me take care of you tonight”, and Crocodile pulled away from cardamom-flavored kisses to remember he was supposed to have gone back to his papers after dinner.

“Am I that bad a kisser you remembered now? Maybe I should skip a few steps.” River went to slip off his lap and onto the floor between his knees when he felt him grab his arm.

“You’re distracting. Take off your clothes.”

“I don’t think that will make me less distracting.”

Crocodile allowed the shorter man to pull at his clothes but he only got him half dressed, distracted by his lover’s broad chest. A bold tongue lapped at his nipples, leaving Crocodile painfully hard in his slacks by the time he pulled his mischief maker away by a firm hand in the roots of his hair.

“Sensitive.” River licked his lips, a satisfied grin almost muting the huff of pleasure he made when Crocodile jostled the hand that restrained him. He thought about scolding him but couldn’t find the ire, pleasantly warm and treated to the sight of River as wound up as he was, tenting his robes and squirming to be set free.

“Don’t make me wait, Crocodile, I haven’t seen you all day,” River pleaded quietly, pressing their bare chests together where they were still half dressed and growing disheveled. The warlord obliged at a cost, releasing him only when their lips met. Crocodile’s slow, thorough tasting of his tongue kept him distracted, tame enough to carry, and he tossed him onto the unmade sheets from that morning.

“I’m sorry I never made it to the bath.” River moaned when he felt teeth and a tongue sucking a mark into his neck, crowded into the pillows by his larger lover.

In rumpled sheets and docile violet eyes, Crocodile found himself helpless to a heady cloud of bergamot, starfruit, and salt. He kissed him until their tastes melded, breathing deep and holding him in his lungs until his chest ached. His wide palm swept over damp skin in greedy pulls, pressing them together until lavender marks bloomed in pairs. Teeth followed his tongue down River’s neck and into the collarbones that distracted him, leaving soothing licks to reward the whimpers that followed his teeth marks, and the whispering of their clothes finally slipping to the floor.

River never complained about any of the love bites, hopelessly soft for the way Crocodile never marked him hard enough to last more than a day, just enough he could feel his blood rise to the surface and throb against his teeth with the heartbeat in his throat and in his dick. But he was as vocal in his pleasure as he was in everything else, making demands of the warlord in that impudent, saccharine voice and being so eager to please in return.

“I want you to suck me off. Please, Crocodile, won’t you?” He squirmed and Crocodile wondered if the Oasin would even last for it, nerves already tingling, dick leaking and smearing all over his belly from his restless wiggling.

“How could I refuse such a sweet request?” He inched his thumb into River’s panting mouth just to hear his mewl, circling his tongue and already planning to ask for the favor returned.

The heat over River’s body retreated first before it came back as a tongue sliding up the underside of his cock. He gasped to the ceiling, head pressing back into the nest of pillows while the tongue meandered across his skin. He reflexively grabbed at the pillow with one hand, the other combing Crocodile’s hair out of its style while his thighs shook around his ears. The perturbed crinkle in his brow attempts to deter River’s petting but he can’t manage to look terrifying with his mouth full, and his own cock is starting to ache at the sounds they make together.

Sweet whimpering, the wet slip of Crocodile’s rhythm, and his own moans that rumble in his chest, keeping River restless under such thorough attention to every inch of him. Crocodile enjoyed his over-stimulation far too much to hold him down, more than confident in his ability to handle one man’s wiggling while he pleasured him. Neither of them ever lasted long for oral anyway, always too occupied with the pretty picture the other made, of either the islander with a sun-kissed face that only ever ended up wet and messy between his thighs, or the warlord that was never satisfied until he had every drop his lover could give.

“You always feel so good, Crocodile. Please, I—I’m gonna cum—don’t—please, I’m—Ah!” River gasped and yelped to the ceiling, the arch in his back supported by Crocodile’s palm when he came down his throat, sure that he was holding his lover’s hair too tight but unable to let go. Crocodile merely hummed and let him come down slowly, cleaning him in the silence with his tongue.

The impossibly soft swipes of his palm over River’s belly and chest were calming, soothing, hardly indicative he was already planning his rebuttal. His lower back was beginning to complain, and his left shoulder certainly wished he would right himself, but his cock still hung heavy, a deep, throbbing red from watching him come apart, and he would sooner jump in the lake than let the beauty against his pillows leave without being thoroughly enjoyed.

“We can stop here if you want. You look tired,” He rumbled, hoarse and teasing as he pressed a nip of a kiss to his hip. It might kill him, his dick would certainly perish, but he would jump in the lake or worse if only his beauty wished it.

“I’m just catching my breath, I don’t want to stop,” River said and bodily beckoned him to come closer.

“Not until you fuck me—,” Crocodile swallowed his plea by pressing their mouths flush, licking remnants of cum between them and holding him close enough to feel the aborted sounds in his own chest.

“Lay down, I can do it,” River said, eyes flittering between Crocodile’s eyes and lips.

The whispering of Crocodile’s hand removing his rings is his answer, and that strong grip returns as a fingertips depressing the meat of his thigh, pricking barely before they’re warm again.

“I will give you everything you desire... But you’ve been awfully bossy tonight. I think I’ll just enjoy you at my own pace.” Nips and kisses to River’s shoulders turn his complaints into pleasured murmurs.

“No, no, I wanted to treat you.”

Crocodile just hummed, pleased as he continued his distracted kissing. “You need only to exist and it is a treat.”

River sighed, eyelids fluttering at the sweet words spoken against his cheek. “I suppose it can’t be helped. A man with your pride would surely ignore his own aches and keep his lover distracted with poetry. I, the dutiful lover, will relent and eventually find myself hoisted onto strong thighs, our position flipped when the proud man believes I have forgotten… and I will take everything he has to give.”

He gasped when Crocodile’s hand gripped his thigh hard enough to mark and pushed his knee back to his chest.

“You’re especially mouthy tonight.”

“And you’re stubborn as always.”

A simple look commanded he grab his other knee to spread himself in offering to dark eyes. A little logistics, a little inventory, and Crocodile managed to find the new bottle of lubricant as River dutifully held back his own legs, fingers flexing in anticipation.

“I’m shaking—maybe I should roll over.” River smiled awkwardly, chewing on his lip and staring at the man between his feet.

“Do as you please for now. But I want to see your face when I’m inside you.” Crocodile watched him roll onto his stomach, smoothing his palm up his spine, careful only to touch him with clean fingers.

“Breathe in… breathe out.”

The breach of his entire middle finger was a welcome surprise if the arch of River’s spine and pleased hiccup was any indication. Too pent up to go slow but still worried for his comfort, Crocodile busied himself with crooking the tip of his finger from every angle except the one he needed, massaging him and working him open in the most cruel way. In and out, he only allowed him the faintest tease of attention to his prostate, content to bully him with self-indulgent prodding.

Beneath him, River was losing himself, panting in only minutes from just a single thick finger, hands kneading the comforter and eyes unfocused as he tried to wet his lips.

“Please, Croc, it’s so—please, anything,” He mumbled.

“Anything?” Crocodile hummed deep in his chest, unable to stop himself from leaning down and kissing the sensitive spot on his oblique.

“More of this? Shh, shh, I’m sorry. Breathe in… breathe out.” He added his ring finger, simultaneously biting the oblique under his lips to drive his keen higher.

The extra stretch had them both forgetting the pace they originally set, and a few more minutes had River on his elbows, swinging his hips back to meet Crocodile’s knuckles on every stroke. He knelt enraptured as he watched him lose his usual composure, moans hiccuping from his kiss swollen lips with every impact, eyes glassy and focused only on chasing the sparks that zipped up his spine with every brush of his prostate.

Crocodile’s dick ached, throbbing all the way to his own hole to be inside the man who struggled not to howl into his own fist. He couldn’t help but begin sucking kisses into the flushed muscles of his back, arms tensing around him as he panted into his damp shoulder blade.

“Easy, River—” I’m going to cum too soon.

“—Mm, mm, I don’t want easy, I want you. You’ve gotten quite comfortable back there.”

The yelp River gave when he pulled out his fingers, maybe too fast, sorry baby, and flipped him onto his back satisfied the part of him that was still bothered by River’s lack of fear. From the first day he came to Rainbase, the Oasin never hid he was a sarcastic, indulgent layabout that couldn’t have a single serving of wine without sleeping wherever he fell. He obeyed orders barely when he obeyed at all, telling Mr. 0 off and hanging up the snail phone to the horror of onlookers. Even at Raindinners, River’s socialite hobby was supposed to annoy him, the gambling, drinking (after his tolerance adjusted), the way he convinced the bartenders to put everything on the house tab.

But the way he lights up when Crocodile comes through the front door, abandoning his chips and dashing over has him stuck. Onlookers have gossiped for months, they know to keep their distance while River goes to his side to welcome him home.

It’s the closest Crocodile has ever come to something that resembled domesticity. He can’t give it up, and it terrifies him how much leash one man has made for himself, inch by decadent inch.

A hand toying with his dick yanks him back to the present, and he sees River waiting not-so-patiently against the pillows.

“Lost you for a minute,” He said while taking back his mischievous fingers.

“I have a lot on my mind.”

“It’s not too late to let me ride you.”

Crocodile yanked him further down the bed until they were lined up finally. River managed to secure a single pillow, knees spread wide and staring up at the predator above him with a surrender to be eaten. They butted heads most days and argued most nights but River would do anything for him, and he knew he was cherished in return. He reached out to hold Crocodile by his larger, corded shoulders, hands skittering across his strong, firm chest, and they slipped together with a harmonious sigh.

Crocodile sat up to adjust the angle, removing those wandering hands to press him flat. “Stay still, you’re awfully—oh—tight.”

He grabbed the foot tickling his rib and squeezed. “I mean it.”

Uncharacteristically, River relented, kneading the duvet he could reach, eyes shut and trying to control his breathing. But as hard as he tried to be obedient, he couldn’t stop his insides from rippling, searching for friction from the dick keeping him open.

Crocodile could only bear it for what was probably seconds, pulling back his hips until only the ruddy tip was inside before pitching forward and startling a moan out of them both. Sitting up was easier on his back and he began a faster pace than they were used to, chasing his pleasure while River moaned his praise, bound to be spoiled by Crocodile’s relentless rhythm. The latter lifted his chin to close his eyes, already anticipating watching his noisy bottom would end him too soon.

A pinch to his nipple had him fixing River with an embarrassed scowl—and that was a mistake. He watched him lick his thumb, resuming his fixation on Crocodile’s right nipple while he struggled to keep up, glassy eyes letting tears fall into his hair, and kiss-bitten mouth hanging open while he mewled his pleasure.

“Are you trying to finish this early?” Crocodile exhaled hot, hips beginning to falter in their rhythm as he moaned through gritted teeth.

“I’m not, ha... I can’t hold on, I’m trying, shit, I’m trying.”

He watched River’s jaw stutter, and his almost-purple cock was so hard and wet he leaked over his hip and onto the sheets with every throb. His whimper rose into a frustrated yell when Crocodile went to the root and stayed still, pressing them together and resting on his elbows beside River’s shoulders. Iron-hot hips slowed to a simmer as he drove them higher at half the speed, barely leaving the slippery heat before pressing even deeper.

But the danger in Crocodile’s new plan of slow and steady was that now he was in range of that mouth.

He couldn’t think with the molten tongue on his neck, and a kiss only offered a silver of reprieve. But with his brain already threatening to melt from his ears from the scalding pressure around his cock, he needed all the mercy he could get in the relentless wash that River was to his senses.

“You—oh, fuck,” He panted against the younger man’s mouth. He couldn’t finish his thought, head too foggy and hot, wanting explicitly to say ‘You’re mine’ and unable to catch his breath. Somewhere under the heat, he wondered if the words left unsaid were a blessing, unable to be proven wrong by refusing to exist. Later, when he wasn’t already rung out by a man who hadn’t left his pillows once, he’d try again to think.

“So good, feels so good, my Crocodile,” River moaned so clearly he couldn’t pretend he didn’t hear him. He declared it with a possessive swirl of his hips, pressing his legs against the arms that held him wide, and as confident as every word that came from his mouth. The suddenness of Crocodile’s release slammed into him white-hot, leaving his world soundless and too-bright long enough he wondered if he had fallen unconscious.

He forced himself back to the world of the living, if only to confirm he hadn’t crushed River under his dead weight. Beside him, the man was almost asleep, spread akimbo like the bed was his own with a shiny splatter of cum on his own chest and neck. (Crocodile made a mental note to berate himself later with the embarrassment of how that situation could have gone, perhaps with River unsatisfied and smushed beneath an out-of-practice, unbelievably rude man).

River tore him from his self-depreciation with a hand on his face, moving his hair from his eyes like his own bangs weren’t sticking to his cheeks in damp curls. He held a hot towel (When did he prepare that?) and gently coaxed them both clean. Crocodile tried to look disapproving that River cleaned him first but was distracted watching him drag a clean corner up his flushed chest, passed the beauty mark on his sternum. He touched his chin finally, and the realization he made him come hard enough to get his own face had his dick give a single, exhausted throb.

He interrupted the housekeeping to offer his chest for River’s lounging pleasure, taking the rag and tossing it to somewhere with a wet slap. Damp curls pressed under his chin as they settled together, the scent of shampoo and salt tempting him to close his eyes.

He tried to remember if he’d left any lamps on, but knew his muscles wouldn’t move unless he smelled smoke.

“Crocodile.”

“Hm.” He’s sure he turned off the one in the study but the one in the hall was unaccountable—

“Are you sure you want me to stay?”

Crocodile’s eyes flicked open to the ceiling. “Who said you’re staying?”

“You did when you brought me in for a cuddle and looked like you were halfway to sleep just now.”

“There’s your answer. Go to sleep, River.” His warlord voice had no bite in the afterglow, warm and sounding more like an annoyed lover who was yanked from their almost-sleep.

No, he definitely turned off the lamp in the hall.

River’s nails drew soft shapes on his chest in the silence. “… I’m going to the bookstore tomorrow. Do you want me to bring you something?”

His answer was a quiet shift in the warlord’s breathing that meant he would receive no answer until morning.

[gwenbrightly]

(Re)Building the Future Chapter 8

“If I were an animatronic wolf with a horribly mangled kid, where would I go?” Gregory muses (ignoring the weird look the others give him for his graphic choice in words). He, Freddy, and Vanessa have arrived back in Roxy Raceway in record time, but there is no sign of Roxy or Cassie. Unless you count the occasional splatters of blood they keep finding, that is. Which tells them a lot while also telling them absolutely nothing.

“Roxanne is very smart,” Freddy says, “I am sure she will have found a first aid station and patched Cassie up by now.”

They locate the nearest first aid station and soon discover what Roxy has clearly already realized. It is completely empty of supplies. And so are all the others, upon further exploration.

“Wow. I guess Fazbear entertainment doesn’t care if people get hurt and die in here,” Gregory comments, kicking an empty cardboard box. When are they gonna find something that’s actually helpful? Cassie could be dead by now! (If the elevator didn’t kill her on impact). If they don’t find her in time, that just proves he’s a crappy friend.

“To be fair, no one is really supposed to be hanging around this place right now,” Vanessa points out, but it’s obvious she’s just as concerned by their lack of progress as he is.

“Perhaps she-” whatever Freddy is about to suggest is cut off by a crash somewhere nearby.

“Did anyone else hear that?” Gregory asks. Freddy and Vanessa nod. “Maybe it’s Roxy! We should totally check it out.”

She’ll be so distracted by Cassie being hurt that she’ll completely forget to hate me, Gregory tells himself. No need to worry about anything but the most important stuff. Which is Cassie not dying, obviously. (No matter how intimidating angry animatronics are)

As with many other things so far today, the crashing sound turns out to be a bit of a red herring. Nobody should be surprised to see Chica digging around in a garbage can. It’s one of her defining behaviors, after all. But to be honest, they’d kinda forgotten about her after not running into her at all on their way to the sinkhole.

“Chica?” Freddy says when they find the source of the noise. He’s not sure why it didn’t occur to him to seek her out sooner. Her caring nature will be a huge help, he can feel it!

“Um… hi?” Chica replies, looking a little unsure.

“You can talk?!” Gregory exclaims, partially hiding behind Freddy in case she decides to enact her revenge for that time he put her through a garbage compactor. And stole her voice box to get into restricted areas because Freddy’s lack of upgrades was lame. She looks way worse now, though. He has to resist the urge to puke at the sight of the rotten… cheese? And other bits of garbage caking her endoskeleton.

“Wait! I can!” Chica agrees, acting as though she’s only just noticed this, “Huh. That’s new. My new friend must have helped me with that! Ohmygosh, it has been so quiet and boring not being able to say anything! Not that there’s anyone to say things to, but still!”

“New friend?” Vanessa repeats. She ignores Chica’s rambling. “Did your new friend happen to be a little girl?”

“Yeah! I think so! It was pretty hard to tell the last time I saw her, let me tell ya. She looked kinda… broken.”

“Please tell me you saw where Roxy took her,” Gregory begs. Chica doesn’t seem interested in hurting him, so it’s probably safe(ish) to ask her for help.

Chica nods, which causes one of her eyes to jiggle unnaturally. Freaky.

“I did! I can totally show you if you want me to!”

“That would be great,” Vanessa tells her.

“Umm… this way! They went this way not too long ago! Follow me!” The animatronic speeds off through the maze of construction equipment that leads to what’s left of the main atrium. It’s dark and gloomy without the giant glowing holograms of Freddy and the rest of the Glamrocks that can usually be seen from pretty much anywhere in the room. The stage is completely blocked off by bright orange safety barriers, now, and half filled shipping crates and piles of debris make it just as difficult to navigate as everywhere else they’ve been. The stairs are missing steps. They remind Gregory of something out of one of those parkour challenge video where someone is always reading some over dramatic internet post in the background. The shutters for El Chip look like someone tried to drive a go cart through them… which is altogether possible, given some of the other crazy stuff that’s happened here. Nothing seems to have come out of the earthquake in one piece. Some of the graffiti is pretty impressive, though. Gregory is tempted to ask if Vanessa has any spray paint in that backpack of hers, but right now probably isn’t the best time for that.

They make it about halfway across the room before things start to get weird. Chica keeps making sharp turns and backtracking through the toughest areas. They lose sight of the darn chicken and spend upwards of half an hour searching before they finally spot her in the Cupcake Shoppe (of course). Is she leading them into a trap? Does she actually know where she’s going? Gregory isn’t sure which is more likely, but he’s beginning to get suspicious that something isn’t right.

“Sooo… uh, Chica, where exactly did Roxy and Cassie go?” Gregory asks when they find her again. Chica ignores him and continues weaving between pieces of abandoned baking equipment. Well, that’s just rude, Gregory thinks. She seemed so sweet and thoughtful earlier!

“Hey! Wait up!” Gregory shouts, out of breath. Man, he really needs to start exercising more and sitting around playing video games less… the stupid chicken speeds up. It’s like she doesn’t want them to catch up with her.

“Is everything alright, Chica?” Freddy calls after her. He stops trying to weave his way between objects delicately and shoves a rolling cart out of the way so he can get to her more quickly. She is not acting like herself. What if she hurts herself again?

“Will you quit it?!” Chica snaps, finally turning around.

“Quit what?” Freddy asks, confused. What have they done to offend his friend so deeply?

“Following me! I don’t even know you!” She exclaims.

“But… we are your friends…” Freddy protests. This is wrong, all wrong.

““Friends,” Chica repeats. “I don’t have any friends. Unless you count that guy,” she jerks her head towards the giant Mr, Cupcake, whose eyes glow ominously. Gregory doesn’t understand what she sees in the creepy thing. He’s pretty sure it’s not even sentient enough to hold a conversation with.

“Chica…” Freddy isn’t sure what to say to that.

“You said you knew where Cassie and Roxy were!” Gregory butts in. Involving the dumb chicken has been nothing but a waste of time.

“Cassie and Roxy.? Hm…” Chica thinks for a moment, “Cassie and Roxy! They went this way!” She points in a direction that is vaguely southeast.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Gregory demands to know. After all, she told them the same thing earlier and then led them on a wild goose (or chicken) chase.

“I…” Chica trails off.

“If this is a joke, it’s not funny! Someone could die because of you!”

“It’s not. I know it’s not funny. I am so, so, SOO sorry!” Chica tells them, looking beyond guilty.

Freddy, Vanessa, and Gregory glance at each other. No one is quite sure what to do with her bizarre behavior.

“I, um, might kinda sorta have… short term memory confusion?” She continues.

“Don’t you mean short term memory loss?” Gregory corrects. He’s 110% positive that ‘short term memory confusion’ isn’t a thing. Though, with the way that garbage compactor squashed her, he’d be surprised if she didn’t have some issues.

“That too!” Chica agrees.

“You’ve been having trouble with your memory?” Vanessa asks, feeling a little guilty. Why didn’t she think to demand that the techs try to repair the Glamrocks before everything went to heck and Corporate decided to abandon the Pizzaplex? If Chica is this bad off, she dreads seeing what the others are like.

“Yup! Sometimes those darn memories just go poof!” Chica waves exaggeratedly.

“That sounds dreadful,” Freddy comments. His poor friend.

“It sure is!” Chica announces before a look of confusion crosses her face. “Anywho - wait, what were we talking about, again?”

“Seriously?” Gregory facepalms. This is just sad. Vanessa frowns at him in disapproval, no doubt thinking he isn’t helping the situation - which, to be fair, he isn’t.

“You were just telling us about your short term memory loss,” she reminds Chica with way more patience than Gregory would be able to manage.

“Riiiight!”

“As much as I hate to say it,” Gregory turns to Freddy and whispers, “I don’t think Chica is gonna be much help with finding Roxy and Cassie.”

“I don’t know who that is, but you’re probably right,” Chica agrees, also whispering. She’s still not really sure what’s going on, but she likes feeling included.

“Sorry, Chica,” Vanessa says, but the chicken doesn’t seem to mind.

“I have been thinking about that and am wondering if, perhaps, Roxy traveled to the Superstar Daycare after Chica lost track of her,” Freddy tells them, changing the subject to avoid embarrassing Chica further. While she is welcome to join them on their venture, he knows the others are right. It would be difficult to get a coherent or accurate answer from her about where the pair were headed when she last saw them.

“The daycare? Why?” Gregory questions. He gives the bear a weird look. He’s still a little unnerved by both Sun and Moon after everything he’s been through.

“Well, as he works with the youngest children in the facility, the Daycare Attendant has more extensive first aid programming than the rest of the Glamrock animatronics,” Freddy explains, “it makes sense that Roxy would seek his guidance.”

“Not to mention the daycare is on the southeast side of the Pizzaplex, which seemed like the same direction Chica thought they were going,” Vanessa adds in agreement.

“I guess that makes sense,” Gregory decides, although the daycare is on his list of places he’d rather not revisit. Oh, well. He’s visited a lot of other places on that list today already. What’s one more?

“It is settled, then. We will go to Superstar Daycare and see if they are there,” Freddy announces. It is time to begin their journey once again.