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jtargaryen18 · 3 years

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His Inheritance ~ Chapter 8

Part 8: Reckoning

Series Masterlist

Words: 3.2k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mafia families. References to arranged marriage. References infidelity, miscarriage, possible domestic violence. References to crime family violence. Coercion. Spanking. Acohol consumption. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

~~~

“Your temperature is slightly elevated but everything else seems okay,” the ER nurse told you. “If the fever returns or you experience other symptoms with it, please get in touch with your personal physician if it’s a non-emergency. Otherwise, come back here.”

Nerves were getting the better of you now. The niacin Nat gave you managed to mimic a short-lived fever. It made you feel strange enough to be convincing to the ER staff that took care of you. They ran several tests, found nothing. The clipboard holding your paperwork was clutched tightly in your shaking hand, half-completed and barely legible.

“Where’s your friend?” the nurse’s voice cut into your thoughts.

She’d walked you back into the waiting room that was literally filled with people, some injured, others visibly ill. Not only did you feel guilty because there wasn’t a damn thing wrong with you, but you didn’t see Nat anywhere.

“She’ll be back for me,” you said to her, finding a seat near the door, hoping it was true even as you said it.

Hopefully, she was getting to visit Clint. How she planned to get around Steve’s men who were there to watch over him, you didn’t know.

All you knew is that you were alone in the ER with no car. No way out.

If what Steve told you was true, you could be in very real danger. Someone shot Clint. Was it ordered by Bucky Barnes? An old enemy of your father’s? What if they figured out you were there at the hospital? All alone?

You checked your phone every few seconds, hoping for a message from Nat. Praying you wouldn’t see one from Dyson. Or Steve. Your heart raced and your anxiety was through the roof. The window was cold behind you, blasts of winter air hit you each time someone came in or out of the automated glass doors.

You needed to get back. Dyson had barely had time to react when Nat had rushed you out the door, into her SUV. The poor man looked on the verge of apoplexy as he stared out the open doorway of Steve’s house, watching you drive away with Nat.

You wanted to earn a trusted friend in Nat. But what had you gotten yourself into?

Mere moments passed and you couldn’t take it anymore. You started typing a quick text to Nat. You hated infringing on any time she had with Clint but…

You shivered in the chill from the door opening by your side.

You jumped in your seat when a heavy hand dropped onto your shoulder. The scent of sandalwood caused your fear to spike. Your phone tumbled from your hand.

Steve scooped it up with a speed that startled you, his sharp gaze meeting yours as he handed it to you. There was a dusting of snow on his hair, on the shoulders of his heavy black coat.

Oh, you were caught.

You didn’t recognize the men who walked in behind him, both dressed in suits and overcoats as he was. The taller one had dark eyes and slick black hair. His face was stern as Steve plucked the clipboard from your lap and handed it off to him. That man made his way towards the desk.

The other man was shorter with warm brown hair, warmer blue eyes. His gaze was sympathetic on you.

Kneeling in front of you, Steve took your hands in his. It wasn’t until then you realized just how bad you were trembling. Your heart beat so fast and so hard your chest hurt.

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked you, his tone soft.

“I’m fine,” you managed. “I had a slight fever and Nat was nervous. She insisted…” It was the best you could remember on what she told you to say.

Steve’s smirk was knowing. “I’m sure she did.”

Still, he insisted on talking to the nurse who attended you, the older woman charmed by his polished appearance, his obvious concern for you.

Like it was real…

Signaling to his men, they approached the two of you. Steve grabbed your coat from the seat next to where you were sitting and held it for you to slip on.

“Take her to my car,” he told them. “Don’t leave her under any circumstance. Got it?”

To you, he said. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Then I’m taking you home.”

The stern-faced man nodded and headed for the door. The friendly one motioned for you to follow him.

You glanced back over your shoulder to see Steve walking away, heading into the hospital.

He was looking for Nat you knew.

You felt worse about the day’s events, the decision you made, as the minutes ticked by.

***

Nat never saw him coming up behind her. She was heading up the hall, back towards the ER where she thought his girl was waiting. His sister was sniffling, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue as she walked.

Steve was livid.

Grabbing her by the elbow, he roughly maneuvered her into an empty patient room and slammed the door behind him. The way his sister’s green eyes widened in fear gave him a small measure of satisfaction.

Nat turned to face him, hands up defensively.

“Steve, look—”

“Are you happy now?” He got in her face. “Clint isn’t out of the woods. He’s not even awake yet. And you pull this?”

Her jaw locked even as tears slid down her face. It was a mannerism she inherited from their father and like him, it only came out when she was pissed.

“That’s right, Steve,” she shot back. “He could die. And you honestly thought I wouldn’t move heaven and earth to see him again? Even if he never knows I was here?”

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Steve blew out a frustrated exhale.

“This is exactly why it was safer for you to marry Bruce,” he reminded her. “Your husband shouldn’t be in the line of fire. You’re safer this way.”

“And miserable.”

Steve couldn’t do this again. His sister was ruled by her heart not her head. That was how people got themselves killed. She’d been married to Bruce for over three years. When was she going to let it go? She could try telling him that she loved Clint so much…

In all honesty, he was mostly convinced she did this to punish him for not getting what she wanted.

“You are only miserable because you’ve decided to be,” Steve told her for the hundredth time. “Bruce provided you with a beautiful home, everything you could ever want…”

Angry color flooded her face as she stared him down. “And he loves me so much he keeps a Russian whore on the side and stays out late with her almost every night. I’m alone, Steve.”

“You wouldn’t be if you…”

“Don’t say it,” she warned him, swiping angrily at tears. “Don’t you fucking dare say that to me. Not after what he did.”

Steve stopped there. Angry as he was, he wasn’t that cruel.

In the early days of their marriage, from what Steve could tell, Bruce had really tried. He’d had a crush on Nat since high school. Unfortunately for him, Natasha had dated Clint through most of high school. Their father had watched in disapproval. And even though Clint’s father was one of the family’s best lieutenants, even though Clint made himself a good and loyal soldier, he was not who their father had in mind for his daughter.

Natasha and their father had epic arguments over it, but he wouldn’t be swayed. When the heart attack took him unexpectedly, Natasha blamed herself because they had a horrible fight the day before. It was the biggest reason Steve was able to convince his sister to break things off with Clint, to consider Bruce.

When Steve arranged their marriage, Bruce had been delighted. They’d gotten married and Bruce gave her everything she wanted. The mansion where they lived, the cars she preferred. She had enough clothes to fill two walk-in closets.

To help things along, Steve had sent Clint off to Europe for several months. The family had business there to handle – not terribly important – and his absence, Steve thought, would give Nat a chance to see what a good guy her husband was. That they could be happy together.

Steve’s gut had told him the plan would ultimately fail. It had.

Clint came back and all it took was a chance meeting between him and Natasha.

Nat admitted to Bruce she still loved Clint, that she wanted to be with him.

The fight that resulted surprised Steve in its explosive nature, its violence. Bruce assured him that Nat had been startled and tumbled down the stairs, breaking her arm and her leg in the fall. Those injuries she recovered from.

The miscarriage? Steve didn’t think she’d ever recovered from that.

The marriage didn’t appear to be recovering either. They played the part well enough when they had to.

And since then, Steve wasn’t sure how, his sister found ways to see her former lover.

Nat assured him Bruce had breath-taking anger issues. Bruce assured Steve that he’d never lay a hand on his sister. The man had never seemed violent, never displayed such a temper in his dealings with him.

Was there something he didn’t know?

Steve had to try. He needed Bruce until his leadership was solidified and he was a damn good lawyer.

“A child might keep him at home, Nat,” Steve told her.

“Because I want that,” Nat shot back angrily. “Why don’t you worry about your own marriage, brother?”

Steve’s anger flared at that. “Speaking of my fiancée, what the fuck were you thinking? Using her to make your little charade happen?”

“Charade?” Nat challenged him. “Your fiancée spiked a fever while Dyson was with the stylists. What did you want me to do? Ignore it?”

“According to the nurse, her temperature never reached 100,” Steve told her. “They didn’t find a thing wrong with her, Nat.”

“Better to overreact than to ignore a warning sign,” she told him.

“Why were you at my house with the stylists anyway?” he wanted to know. “They’d already been to your house.”

“I forgot to talk to them about something I need for my dress.” Nat wasn’t backing off her story.

Steve didn’t want to waste more time there just in case Bruce did find out she was there.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Steve warned her. “I don’t appreciate you dragging my fiancée into it.”

“She wasn’t feeling well,” Nat insisted. “Ask her yourself.”

Steve stared her down. “Believe me. I plan to.”

That had her green eyes wide in alarm. “Steve…”

Grabbing her elbow again, gentler this time, he steered her back out into the hallway. “Neal will follow you home. I suggest you get back right now.”

When she said her name, Steve smiled. “I’m taking my fiancée home. We need to talk.”

“Steve, this isn’t her fault,” Nat tried. “She wasn’t feeling well.”

“She was told not to leave the house,” Steve told her, calling her bluff. He walked her to the emergency room entrance. “She disobeyed me. It’s not a good way to begin our marriage.”

***

The ride back to the mansion was tense and quiet. When you arrived Scott, who’d taken Clint’s place as Steve’s driver, held open the door. Dyson stood there looking concerned. Guilt flooded you as he took your coat, quietly asking how you were feeling.

“I’m fine,” you told him. “Just tired.”

Then you headed for the stairs. Fast.

When Steve called your name, you ignored it. When he marched up behind you and grabbed your elbow, you flinched.

“See to it that we’re not disturbed,” he told his men as he steered you in the direction of his study.

He shut the door harder than he needed to. You got that he was angry. He went straight for the mini bar behind his desk, pouring liquor into two crystal glasses. When he came back, he handed you one and motioned for you to sit as he leaned on his desk.

“I’d rather stand,” you told him, putting the chair between the two of you and meeting his gaze.

Steve cocked an eyebrow at you but let it go.

“Want to tell me what really happened?” Those blue eyes were intent on you as he swallowed down his bourbon.

For courage, you had a drink of your own, making him wait.

“Does it matter?” you shot back.

“If I remember correctly, I told you that I didn’t want you to leave this house for your own safety. I told you I didn’t want you even outside on the grounds,” he said angrily. “Do you remember that?”

You nodded.

“That was this morning,” Steve pointed out. “And here we are.”

You kept stubbornly quiet, having more of the bourbon.

“Nothing to say?” he pressed.

“What do you want me to say, Steve? I’m sorry? I’ll never do it again?” You shook your head. “If I remember correctly, this marriage wasn’t my idea.”

“Maybe not, but it’s going to happen, and I need you to wise up.” His gaze darkened and color seeped up from his color.

“What was I supposed to do?” You hated sounding defensive, but there it was. “Your sister asked for my help, and I went with her.”

That you didn’t stick with Nat’s composed story surprised him. But he recovered quickly.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” you went on. “At least she told me why she needed my help. You have all these expectations of how things will go and what I’m supposed to do. Buy you never tell me anything.”

At that, he pushed off from the desk, slamming his empty glass on the desktop hard.

“I told you not to leave this house,” he told you.

“But you didn’t tell me why,” you had to point it out. “I get some vague bullshit about Bucky Barnes being a dangerous man. That I need to do exactly as you say. Why? Does Barnes want to kill me? I feel like there’s a lot I don’t know, Steve.”

“Did Nat tell you that?” he demanded.

“No, but she did tell me that she wasn’t allowed to marry Clint and that was the man she loved.” Oh, you knew you were digging in deeper, but anger pushed you on. “Why?”

“You can’t be that naïve,” Steve shot back.

“He’s not good enough?” Your voice rose.

“Soldiers are on the front line of our business,” Steve told you. “If I’d allowed her to marry Clint, she might be a widow right now.”

That made you pause. It was a valid point. But it addressed a symptom, not the cause.

“She might be happier as a widow. At least she would have had love.”

“Love?” Steve laughed bitterly. “Love is a dangerous thing in our world. Love causes people to make stupid mistakes. Love can get you killed.”

“Well, then at least I’ll be the safest woman in the world, huh?”

That earned you a look.

“Nat should have been free to make her own choice,” you told him with feeling. “And so should I.”

“Judging from your actions today, it doesn’t appear either of you can make good choices.” Steve was pissed. “I expect better from her. I won’t tolerate this behavior from you.”

It was a warning shot.

“I’m already a prisoner in this place.” You wouldn’t call it your home. “We’re supposed to get married in a week, even though I don’t want to, and you’ve spent thousands of dollars on a wedding dress and stylists to make sure I look perfect.” You put air quotes around perfect. “What else can do you to me really?”

“I already told you,” Steve warned.

All too afraid you knew what remark meant, you sprinted for the door, the glass slipping from your hand onto the carpeting. You wrenched the door open, but Steve roughly slammed the door closed with a hand over your head.

Wrapping a powerful arm around your waist, he yanked you off your feet and quickly locked the door. It didn’t even seem difficult for him to carry your kicking and screaming ass back to the desk, shoving you face down on it with a firm hand planted between your shoulder blades.

“Seriously?” you managed before he landed the first slap.

You felt the full brunt of Steve’s anger as his hand hit your denim-covered ass again and again. He made you feel it. You tried to push up, scrambling for anything on the desk you could use as a weapon, but there were only a few papers, his phone. His empty glass tumbled onto the floor.

“We will get married,” Steve paused. “And when I tell you to do something for your safety, you will fucking do it. Do you understand?”

Growling, you tried to push up again. Another slap.

“Answer!”

“Fuck you,” you shot back.

Steve continued to spank you until tears stung the backs of your eyes. You were furious.

When he stopped again, you fought for breath.

“Do you understand?”

In the pause, you heard shuffling just outside his study. The doorknob rattled as someone tried to open it.

Dyson was probably so worried right now.

Fuck.

“I understand,” you grumbled through gritted teeth.

The second his hand lifted from your back, you pushed up with as much dignity as you could muster. Yeah, your ass hurt but damned if you were going to show it. Standing by the edge of his desk, you glared him down.

Steve looked as angry as you felt, his color high and the front of those elegant slacks were… tented.

Steve’s phone hummed on the desk, drawing your attention. A text popped up on the lock screen.

Katerina: Are you still coming, lover?

Steve snatched up the phone, shoving it in his pocket roughly. His glare faded when the tears came on. You hadn’t slept well last night. The situation with Nat had put your nerves on edge. You came home and he’d just beaten your ass. Your emotions were spiraling, anger dominating the rest just then.

“You couldn’t even tell me you already had a girlfriend,” you said bitterly.

Raking a hand through his hair in agitation, Steve’s gaze locked with yours. His expression was edged with concern now.

“I was supposed to meet her tonight. To end things.”

Swiping at your tears with your hands, you marched around him. He allowed it. When you reached the door, you unlocked it.

“I wouldn’t if I were you. You’re going to need her,” you told him. “What happened just now? That’s the last time you’re ever going to touch my ass again. I promise you that.”

Dyson and Scott both were standing outside his study. Dyson looked as concerned as you expected. Scott’s mouth hung open as you marched by them, heading for your room.

#His Inheritance #Game on

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itisannak · 4 years

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Luke x Firefighter!(Y/N) (Smut Fic)

Summary: Luke really likes the firefighter who treated him after a fire. And she does too. How do a firefighter and a rockstar mix, though? (Smut / Unprotected Sex / Doggy Style / Oral; Female Receiving) (T.W: Injuries / Hospital Setting) (Request: @saphseoul) (Words: 9.6k)

"Ok, but actually, whose idea was it to put an egg in the microwave?" I ask, putting the sleeve of the blood pressure monitor around the man's bicep. He mumbles something under his breath, looking at his hands; I knit my eyebrows together, trying to figure out what he said. "What was that?" I ask him and he sighs. "I was out of utensils and I wanted to eat something quick. And what's quicker than an egg? Can you ask if the fire damaged the house a lot?" He asks me and I hum. "Well, the kitchen was nearly burned down..." I reply and he groans, throwing his head back and bringing his hand to run it down his face. "Calum's going to kill me..." He groans, making me chuckle. "Your boyfriend?" I ask, getting in the fire truck to pick up an oxygen tank. "What? No... My best friend... I was supposed to house sit for him. How can I tell him I burned down the house?" He asks me before I help him with the mask. "Well, you didn't completely burn down the house. I have seen way worse... And you can either do it yourself, or I am pretty sure the insurance company will do it for you." I chuckle, turning the oxygen on. "Deep breaths. You are going to be fine." I smile at him, starting to gather up all the stuff I've taken out of the medkit.

I take the mask off his face, turning the tank off and climbing in to put it back in place. "You have oddly soft hands..." He comments like it is the strangest thing ever. "I guess I do. Alright, pal, you are as good as new. Well, to the extent that you can, I guess." I state, patting his shoulder. "Luke." He says and I tilt my head, looking at him in confusion. "Look where?" I ask and he sighs desperately. "No... My name is Luke." He extends his hand and I roll my eyes at how stupid I must have seemed to him. "Oh... (Y/N)." I shake his hand and he chuckles at me. "So... Um... I was wondering... Like, it is kinda stupid... But um... Fuck, sorry. Lemme start over." He stutters, fiddling with his fingers. "I would like to take you out... Sorry, this sounds dumb... I mean, I would love to see you again. When my face is not covered in smoke and you don't have to make sure I won't die. Shit, that is even worse." He sighs frustrated; his eyes dart everywhere but on me, his face turning red as he babbles the words. "I... This is the first time this has happened to me... I don't know what to say..." I am the one to stutter now, earning a chuckle from him. "This is too awkward... It's painful to look at..." My colleague Vic states as she puts the equipment in the back of the truck. "My shift is over at 9. There is a bar we go to after shifts, on the 9th and 36th. I am going to be there. Along with other firefighters. So, if you are one of those creeps, know that they will probably help me take you under." I state and he hums. "I'll see you at 9:30, at the bar on the 9th and 36th." He smiles at me, jumping off his seat in the back of the truck.

"You got a hot date tonight, I heard." Vic teases me, wiggling her eyebrows as I fix my shirt and tilt my head at her. "You were right in front of us when he asked me, stop mocking me." I reply and he coos at me. "I am not mocking you." She protests and I huff. "You don't think this is too impulsive, do you?" I ask, leaning against the lockers. She walks to me, fixing a strand of hair behind my ear. "I am proud you finally didn't overthink before doing something." She states, her eyes forming little lines as she smiles at me, cheeks getting pushed up from it. "He didn't look like a creep, did he?" I ask again, biting my bottom lip. "He looked like white Jesus, stop worrying over everything. You can always call me if you feel like you are in danger." She offers and I huff. "You are going to be there, either way. I told him to meet me at the bar after the shift." I state and she hums. "Smart." She pats my back and moves ahead to get ready.

I sit on the bar, taking a sip of my beer while I check the door for Luke to walk in. Vic, along with our colleagues Maya and Clint, is sitting on the other end of the bar, occasionally giving me a thumbs up for encouragement. Luke walks in, spotting where I am sitting and rushing to me. "Hi... I am so sorry I am late." Luke states, pulling a stool closer before he motions the barman over. "Did anything happen?" I ask him and he shakes his head. "It will sound stupid, but my dog was whining every time I tried to get out of the house." He scratches the back of his head, looking at me for my reaction. "You have a dog?" I ask excitedly, making him smile at me. "Yes. A bulldog-terrier girl. Her name is Petunia and she looks like the cutest piggy you've ever seen." He replies, making me coo. "Do you have any pictures?" I ask him and he hums, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He scrolls through his gallery, chuckling as he turns his phone to me. On the screen, there is a picture of the dog, holding a stuffed fox as she lays on the couch. "She is so cute, I can almost forgive for being late." I state and he brings his hand to his chest, sighing in an obviously sarcastic way. "Do you have any?" He asks me. "What, pets?" I ask him, bringing my beer to my lips. "Yeah." "No... My work hours are crazy, I couldn't take care of anyone else but myself." I reply and he nods. "I get it..." He mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. "You get it, huh? What do you do for a living?" I ask him, sitting up a little better. "I am a musician. I am the lead in a band, we are quite known, actually." He replies, smiling charmingly at me. "You are?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow at him. "We are called 5 Seconds of Summer. 5sos for short." He states, making my eyes go wide. "You are the underwear song guy?" I ask in shock, making him sigh and close his eyes. "I... Fuck... We have a lot better songs than that one." He states, taking a swig from his beer. "I bet you do. But that song... That song slapped, dude. I still listen to it when I work out." I state and he hums. "You should really listen to our songs after that one." He suggests, making me bite the inside of my cheek. "Maybe I will. Any suggestions?" I ask and he chuckles, arching an eyebrow. "Maybe I will give you some suggestions on our second date. Scratch that, on our first date, because this is not a real one. Your friends over there have been giving me the death glare since I stepped in." He points out, gesturing to Clint. I look at them, finding that Clint wishes glares could kill, which only makes me giggle. "I am the baby of the station. They are looking out for me." I brush it off, clinging my bottle against his.

"Wine?" Luke asks me as we walk into his living room. "Yes, please. Red." I reply, looking around me; his house is fancy, like decor magazine cover fancy. "Can you wait here? There is someone I want you to meet." He says as he hands me the glass. I smile and nod, knowing damn well he is going to bring his dog out; a classic girl-magnet move. He leaves the living room, letting me just wander around it as I wait for him to come back. I wasn't expecting him to have such a tidy and clean house. I mean, we've been going out for 3 weeks now, and he always gave me more of a care-free vibe, to set it politely. "This is Petunia." He announces, walking into the living room with his dog following behind him. I gasp, kneeling down to pet the dog. "Hi, pretty girl." I coo, scratching behind her ears. "You are so cute." I sing as she lays on her back and shows me her belly. "Thank you. My friends say she looks like a gargoyle." He kneels next to me, stroking her as well. "But she is so cute. Cute lil' tuna." I reply, squishing her droopy cheeks. "So, I had to pull some strings and ask a few people, but, I got you something." Luke states, getting up and bringing a baby blue box near me. I look at him suspiciously, making him prompt me to open the lid. Inside I find a bunch of vinyl, all from his band. "I remember you said you have a vinyl player but not a lot of vinyl, so I thought since you told me you liked the 'Underwear song', I thought you should first get introduced to our records on vinyl. You said you like the sound and feel of vinyl, so... There, I guess." He seems a little awkward, scratching the back of his neck as he looks on the floor. I coo softly, running my fingers down the cover of the vinyl on top. "This is really the sweetest thing. Thank you." I lean in to press a kiss on his cheek, but as he raises his head to look at me, my lips land on his. It feels so weird, electricity hitting me straight away. And that was for just a moment.

We pull away from each other almost instantly, and I really look anywhere but him. Fuck, I screwed this up. "I am sorry. I didn't know you were... Fuck, sorry." He mumbles; I know he has seen how red I look right now. "It's ok... I... It was... nice." I struggle to let out the words, biting my lip as I turn to look at him. "Yeah, it was very nice... Pity, it ended so soon." He states, a little more confident now. I feel flustered, but excited, wanting nothing more than his lips on mine; he really, really has soft lips. "Well, we can always do it again..." I say self-assured, waiting for his reaction. "I guess you're right." He replies, smirking at me. "To be clear with you, I meant now. We can do it again now." I state and he chuckles. "Yeah, I got that." He assures me, scooting closer to me. His hand goes to my jaw, keeping my head steady as he leans in for a kiss. His lips are extremely soft, warm, and they go so slow against mine. I move closer to him, not breaking the kiss, and straddle his lap, bringing my hands to his shoulders to support myself. Hesitantly, his tongue makes his way past his lips and to mine, almost asking me for permission. I part my lips, letting his tongue slip in my mouth; it is actually very fun, having to test the waters with someone from scratch.

And then he moans into my mouth, he fucking moans into my mouth as if this isn't supposed to turn me on. His hands make their way down my neck, the grazing of his fingers making my skin erupt in goosebumps. I feel like a teenager, fooling around with my crush in a totally innocent way, but definitely having the horniest thoughts. "You are a fucking good kisser." He moans, pulling away from me to catch his breath. He stares at my lips, twisting a strand of my hair between his fingers. "You are not bad yourself either." I giggle, stroking my thumb over his cheek. "Lu, I... I don't wanna... I mean... I..." I stutter and he hums, pressing his lips on mine for a short moment. "We don't have to if you don't wanna. This is nice enough." He replies, making me feel warm inside. "Thank you." I utter, and he chuckles. "For what?" He asks, stroking my hair softly. "For respecting my boundaries. It is refreshing." I state, making him smile. "So, I was thinking of ordering some pizza and putting on some of the vinyl. I would love to be here when you discover more of my music." He suggests, resting his hands on my hips. I giggle, looking at him in the eye. "Would I destroy your plans if I said I have already listened to your albums on Spotify?" I ask him and he gasps. "You have? Crap, I would have loved to be there... Did you like them?" He asks me, staring at me excitedly. "I loved Youngblood. It was... fuck, it was beautiful. So lyrical. It had pain, hope, everything in between. I loved the rest as well, but Youngblood just stuck with me." I reply, bringing my hand to his hair. "If you liked Youngblood that much, you should wait until our next one drops. It is our best work to date." He states; he sounds so excited, so eager for it, it makes me feel woozy. "I can't wait." I lean in, bringing my lips to his.

I wake up in the morning by Petunia licking my face. I didn't realize I had fallen asleep, I last recall leaning my head on Luke's shoulder as the B side of Youngblood on vinyl started playing. And now I am laying on the couch, with a blanket covering my body and Petunia hovering above me. I giggle, sitting up and petting her before I get off the couch and fold the blanket. Petunia jumps off, walking slowly out of the room. I decide to follow her, hoping she will guide me to Luke, who is nowhere to be seen in the palpable house.

Petunia stops in front of Luke, who is standing by the stove, cracking eggs inside the pan. "Glad to see you are not putting them in the microwave..." I state, making him scoff and roll his eyes. "Sooo glad I send Petunia to wake you up." He mocks me, passing me a mug of coffee. "Why didn't you wake me up when you realized I fell asleep?" I ask, leaning my head on his shoulder as I watch the pan sizzle. "I remember you told me you don't like driving at night. And come on, I am not an asshole, of course, I would let you crush since you fell asleep on me." He protests, turning to look at me with knitted eyebrows. "So, you are not asshole enough to wake me up, but you are asshole enough to put me on the couch instead of a warm, nice, soft bed..." I point out and he hums. "You wake up in a stranger bed, the night after you told the guy you've been seeing for less than a month, that you don't want to take your make-out session any further than just that... How would you feel?" He asks me, putting the eggs on a plate. "Thoughtful. Thank you." I reply as he passes me the plate. I find it very sweet, actually wholesome that he went through the trail of thought, just to make sure I wouldn't get worried or upset. "Plus, I slept on the other couch. And my couches are comfortable as fuck." He replies, turning around to press a kiss on my lips.

"I need a drink. Definitely, at least one drink." Maya says as we get off the fire truck. I am still in shock, my heart pumping in my chest, even though it has been hours since we managed to contain the fire. "(Y/N), you joining?" She asks me. I stay speechless, thinking about the intensity of my night. "(Y/N)? Are you ok?" Maya asks, snapping her fingers in front of me. "I need a shower. And I need... Screw this, I need dick." I reply, leaving my helmet on the side. I rush to the locker room, going to my locker and picking up my towel, ignoring everyone else. I just hope he is home, that he is not having any interviews, any studio sessions, any fucking shit famous people have to do.

I knock on his door, bouncing on my feet as I wait. I am jittery, a bit nervous about seeing him now, but most certainly sure about how much I need him right now. He opens the door, smiling at me with his cheeks popping and his skin glowing with a beautiful flush. "Hi. I wasn't expecting you." He cheers, moving from the door for me. "Are you alone here?" I ask, fidgeting with my fingers as I look at him. "Yeah. Are you ok?" He asks me, looking at me a little worriedly. "You don't have anywhere to be, do you?" I ask, nearly pleading for him to say he is available. "No, I am free. (Y/N), are you ok? You seem, upset, to say the least." He asks me, putting his hand on my shoulder. "I will be. I need you." I state, looking at him in the eye. "You need me for what?" He asks in confusion. I huff and roll my eyes, frustrated about his innocence at this point. "Luke, I need you. Really need you." I repeat. "Oh." He manages to let out, staring at me as he licks his lips. "It's fine if you don't actually..." I begin but he pulls me in by my wrists and crashes his lips on mine. His fingers hook in the belt loops of my jeans, pulling me as close to his body as possible. "Bed?" He asks me and I shake my head no. "Here." I reply, sliding off my top and dropping it on the floor. He stares at me in shock, licking his lips hungrily at the sight. "Bed. Now." He growls, making my breath hitch in the back of my throat. I love the roughness he is letting through, my core pulsing for him. I nod my head, following him mesmerized and a little too excited for what's to come. "I'll go bring condoms. Make yourself cozy on the bed." He says, sternly, unbuttoning my jeans before he turns to walk away.

I walk into the bedroom, getting rid of my clothes. Thank God he didn't have to see me in the stupid floral panties I had as a spare in my locker. It's weird, standing in the bedroom, naked and alone while he is looking for condoms. I don't know where to stand, how to stand, how to basically wait for him... It is all weird and rushed and I... "Fuck me." I hear Luke from behind me. I turn around, finding him in his boxers, leaning against the door frame. "Yeah, that's the plan." I state, chuckling at him. "Smartass." He comments, walking to me. He pushes me on the bed softly, making me bounce against the mattress. I whimper in surprise, watching him hover over me. "Are you gonna fuck me, or..." I begin but he leans down, kissing me to shut me up. His hand travels down my body, grazing the curve above my hips softly before he reaches for low on my stomach. "I'm gonna touch you. Ok?" He asks me, tapping on my skin softly. I hum in agreement, letting him lower his hand to my sex. He brushes over my outer lips, making chills run along my spine. "Let's see how wet you are." He whispers, parting my lips and letting his finger slip on my clit. He runs his finger down, circling my entrance and picking up some wetness. "You really need me, huh?" He asks, making me nod vigorously. "What was that, pretty girl? Use words." He insists, pressing his fingers on my clit before he rubs on it slowly. I breathe out funny, causing him to smile. "I need you, Luke. I fucking need you so much. Please." I cry out, biting on my bottom lip. "You sound so good." He shakes his head, lowering his boxers and freeing his cock. I pulse around nothing; it looks so much better than I expected.

He slips the condom on quickly, stroking his length as he kneels between my legs. "Ready?" He asks me, gripping on my thigh as he angles my leg up and lines up to my entrance. I moan, watching him spread my legs more before he thrusts in me. "Fuck... Fuck, oh..." I moan, feeling him as he stretches my walls to accommodate his girth. "You are so fucking tight around me." He groans while I pulse. "Feels good, doesn't it?" I ask, causing him to smile at me. "Feels fucking awesome." He pulls out for a second before he slides back in. I reach down, digging my nails into his wrist as he pounds on me. "Harder." I beg, making his eyes glisten. His hand grips on my thigh, pushing it back until it nearly touches my chest, just to get access to me. He goes in harder, groaning as I tighten around him, his chest heaving as he looks at me with pleasure twisting his pretty face. "Luke..." I moan, turning my head so one side of my face is pressed against the sheets. "Yes, baby?" He asks, leaning closer to me to kiss my neck. I sigh; his lips feel like heaven on my skin. "Eat me out." I plead, arching my lower back as he thrusts in, even harder than before. I feel my stomach numbing and my brain going fuzzy at the edges. "What?" He asks through hushed breathing. "Eat me out..." I push his head down, sliding back to relax more on the bed. "Yes ma'am." He sighs, slipping out of me.

I try to take deep breaths while he settles in between my thighs. His lips travel along the inner part of my thigh, where it is soft and sensitive. I lick my lips, watching his messy head of golden curls get lost between my legs. He reaches my bikini line, bringing his tongue out to toy with it a little. I wiggle on my spot, becoming a little too ticklish. "I bet you taste so fucking good." He whispers, bringing my legs to his shoulders and scooting me closer. He parts my lips with his fingers, running his thumb over the wet part before he buries his face in. His tongue goes straight to my clit, circling it slowly and making me feel every stroke he is making. He sucks softly on it, keeping eye contact with me. Instinctively, my hand tangles in his locks, pulling at them as he lowers his tongue to my entrance. His nose is pressed against my clit, while he fucks me with his tongue; and I swear, he does it so well. "You are so good at this. Too good at this..." I tremble, making him chuckle against my core. "I was right. You taste so fucking good, baby." He resurfaces for a moment to draw in a breath, stroking his thumb over my clit. "God..." I cry out as he goes back to eating me out, focusing on my clit now and using his fingers to pump on the right spot inside me. "Oh fuck... Luke..." I moan, feeling my stomach tighten. I gulp the knot in my throat, my toes curling as this gets too good right now. "Stop, stop..." I tap out, making him nearly jump up. "What, did I do something wrong?" He asks, looking at me worriedly. "No, you did everything right. Everything. I just need you inside me... I am close and I want to cum around your cock. Please?" I gasp, making him nod, with his lips loose and his eyes scanning me. "You are going to keep me on my toes, aren't you?" He asks, wrapping my legs around his waist before he enters me again. He gives me all he's got, thrusting inside me at a fast pace. He goes deep, holding onto me by my thigh as I writhe underneath him. "Luke..." I moan while he pants for air. He reaches between our bodies, bringing his thumb on my throbbing clit and stroking it fast while he thrusts in me. "I know, princess. You are pulsing... It feels good around me..." He replies. I blink rapidly, arching off the mattress as I feel my orgasm get closer. "I wanna cum... I wanna cum so badly." I whimper. "Cum around me, baby." He encourages me, stroking my clit fast. I buck my hips up against his, keeping him inside me as I cum, walls convulsing and brain going into a spiral. I don't even mind how stupid my o-face looks, I just take my high, letting out slurred curses. "Fuck, princess..." He groans, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. He barely thrusts, sinking in the feeling with me.

He collapses next to me while I bring the covers to wrap them around my body. He smiles as he looks at the ceiling, while I still try to catch my breath. "Why today?" He asks, resting his weight on his elbow and looking at me. "What do you mean?" I ask him, turning on my side and facing him. "We've been out on so many dates, you've slept over my place 3 times, I've stayed at yours for a whole weekend. There were many opportunities for us to have sex, why today?" He asks me, scooting closer to me. "I... There was this call at work. It was a huge fire downtown, lots of flammable material, we've barely made it through with no casualties. And I... well, some colleagues were injured, not too serious, but heavy enough to be rushed to the hospital. I decided I didn't want to wait any longer. I like you, Luke. I really do. And I didn't want to hold back anymore. I decided to live the day, I don't know what will happen next time I get called to a fire or an accident, or... Whatever, you know. I like you too much to get hurt before having you, before getting to experiencing you in all your glory. So, I got off my uniform, jumped in the shower, put on whatever clean clothes I had, for god's sake I came over to have sex in floral underwear. And then I drove over, hoping that you would be here, so I could finally have you... And you were, and this was... magical, better than expected." I state and he gives me a side smirk. "Were you hurt? Were you in danger?" He asks me, bringing his hand to stroke my hair. "No, no, I am fine. I was just... Shocked." I reply and he hums. "Well, I am always here to help you feel better after calls. Any way I can." He licks his lips, looking at me softly. "Well, you are way better than drinking it away." I state, stroking his cheeks with my thumb. "Am I now?" He asks, cocking an eyebrow at me. "So much better than booze." I emphasize the words, making him hum happily. "I am famished... Wanna grab a bite somewhere?" He asks me, making me shake my head. "I'd much rather order in and have you on this bed for the rest of the day." I suggest and he sighs happily. "Sounds much better than what I suggested." He replies, tilting my chin up to bring his lips to mine.

"What's that smell?" I ask Luke as I walk into my kitchen. "Good morning to you too... Well, there wasn't much in your fridge, so I used your eggs and milk to make pancakes. You need to load up before you go to work." He replies, handing me a mug of coffee. "You are literally the best boyfriend ever." I state, standing on my toes to kiss his lips. "I know." He says cockily, moving his eyebrows. "But, you picked the most chill day to fill me up. I won't need the extra energy today." I state, sipping on my coffee. "Why?" He asks, flipping the pancake in the pan. "We have an open day today. Basically, a bunch of kids and their mothers will drop by, we will hand candy and badge stickers and let the children take pictures wearing helmets and climbing on the trucks." I reply and he makes this happy sound that makes my stomach jump. "Holy fuck, this is the coolest thing ever. Lucky kids." He cheers, making me chuckle at him. "You are welcome to drop by if you want." I propose, making him gasp in excitement. "Really? I've always wanted to climb on a truck." He pushes a pancake on my plate. "Sure. I'll just tell my captain that you're my boyfriend and you're harmless, no problem." I shrug my shoulders, smiling at how cute he actually is. "Great. I'll drop by and pick you up. We should really go grocery shopping for you." He states, walking to me and pressing his body against mine. I bring my hands around his neck, stroking the hair that cascades it. "I'll wear my pretty floral sundress, the one you like so much. We will make a date out of it." I smile, causing him to lick his lips and smile. "And then we come back and I cook for you." He whispers, placing his hands on my hips and pressing his lips on my forehead. "Do I really want you to? Need I remind you we only met because you burned down Calum's kitchen?" I ask and he scoffs. "First of all, it was part of the kitchen. And second, I have become so much better, you should really stop teasing me about it." He pouts and I coo at him. "I am not teasing you, I am just reminding you how we met." "I am kinda thankful I put that egg in the microwave..." He murmurs, pushing some strands of my hair away from my face. "Quick question about today's plans. Is sex anywhere on the schedule?" I ask and he hums. "With you, wearing that floral dress? Definitely lots of it." He replies, pressing his fingers under my chin and tilting my head back enough for him to reach my lips.

"(Y/L/N), your boyfriend is here." Clint announces, making me smile from ear to ear. "Hey, you, little girl. I leave you in charge of the candy. Everyone gets one. You are the captain now." I say to the little frizzy-haired girl who stands in the back of the queue. She walks up to me and I hand her my helmet along with the crater of candies before I walk away. Luke is by the entrance, smiling at me as I walk towards him. "You look hot in uniform..." He whispers in my ear as I hug him. "I know." I reply, kissing his cheek. "Come on in. I have a fake helmet, which will probably only fit Tuna, and candy and a shiny sticker budge for you." I say, taking his hand in mine. I guide him in, picking one of the helmets and handing it to him. "You really don't need to do that..." He mumbles and I hum sarcastically. "I am giving you the full experience." I reply, squeezing his hand. "You think this is funny?" He asks in surprise and I shrug. "Well, life is so miserable, we have to find ways to make every day a little funnier." I state, leaning my head on his shoulder. "Oh, Maya over there is going to give you your firetruck tour." I stop right in front of her, pushing Luke towards her. "There he is, the special little guy." She mocks, making me glare at her. "Go with her, I told her to be kind to you." I lean in and press a kiss on his cheek. I watch him from afar as Maya gives him a tour, enjoying him being excited as he climbs on. "He is cute." Clint stands by me, making me smirk. "He is." "Pretty nice guy." He comments and I nod. "I think he is the best." "You think?" "I know he is the best." "Good. Hope he knows I'll break his ribs if he breaks your heart." He says sternly. "Alright, Hulk. Let's calm down. He won't break my heart, not this guy." I smile, staring at Luke and the way his smile makes his whole face light up.

"I talked to your captain today. Neat guy, very cool dude." Luke comments as I serve the spaghetti on our plates. "Not so cool if you are working with him, but go on." I reply, making him chuckle. "Anyway, he actually told me what a hard worker you are and how you haven't taken personal days off since you started your service." He states and I shrug. "I didn't really have any reason to." I pass him his plate and he hums. "Well, it's time you do." "Why?" I ask him, eyebrows furrowed together. "Because I want you to join me on tour. We have a few dates in Europe, just 2 weeks and 3 days, and I really want you with me." He brings his lips to my forehead, resting his hands on the small of my back. "You know I can't afford that." I mumble and he sighs, running his thumb over the dip on my back. "I can! It will be our anniversary gift. And I know that you worry about your paycheck, but you really shouldn't. I wanna help you cover your expenses, I wanna help you with whatever you need." He rumbles, making me smile at him and what a sweetheart he is. "Europe sounds kinda fun." I mumble, rolling my eyes playfully. "It is. I promise. I will inform the management to take care of the details. I am so excited..." He squeals, pulling me to his chest for a hug. "You are squeezing me..." I giggle, feeling him nearly crash my ribcage. "I am sorry. I am so happy you are coming." He can't keep his dorky smile off his face, making me reach up to kiss him.

Luke's hand inches down my back, his lips pressing a kiss on my forehead while I trace a pattern on his chest. "This is the calmest I have been in the past month." I whisper, pressing my ear against his heart. "Glad to help with that." He says a little cockily. "I... I have been thinking about it for a while... I have been holding it in, which is really stupid, but..." I begin rambling, losing my words as I try to tell him how I feel. "I love you too." He smiles at me, tilting my chin up so he can look at my face. "Let me say it." I whine and he raises his hands in defeat. "I am not good at expressing feelings, I have always had a hard time not suppressing them, but I want to be honest with you and mostly myself. I love you. I feel safe with you, happy. It is weird because no one else has made me feel like that before, but you do and I just can't keep it in anymore. You make me happy, every single day. I love you." I say, looking at him as he smiles softly. "I love you too." He whispers, leaning closer to bring his lips to my lips.

He moves to straddle me, cupping my face in his hand as the other supports his weight on his elbow. "Shouldn't you be getting ready to leave for that interview?" I moan while his lips move to my chin and then my jaw. "In a bit..." He murmurs, his tongue peeking from between his lips and tracing a figure on my sweetspot. "Don't start things you can't finish..." I whine, throwing my head back further into the pillow the moment his hand goes from my face to my hip and then my lower stomach, toying with the hem of my underwear. "Oh, I can and I will finish." He chuckles, slipping a finger under the waistband of my underwear. His lips travel to my collarbone, sucking softly on the dip of them. I blink rapidly, still not used to the feeling of his lips on my skin. "I want you..." I utter, causing his hand to slip into my panties and cup my sex. He rubs his fingers on my clit, making me tense up at the stimulation. "Need to get your pretty little pussy wet for me first." He whispers, bringing his hand under my t-shirt. He brushes over my nipple, feeling the perked-up little bud before he brings his head under my t-shirt too. His mouth attaches to my breast right then, lips sucking hungrily as he lowers his fingers to my entrance. He pushes 2 fingers in, making my entrance stretch around his digits. He pumps them up, grazing over my spot with every move of his fingers. "You are so wet already. Were you thinking of me taking you?" He asks me, flicking his tongue over the tip of my nipple. "Please, Luke. We don't have much time. I don't want you leaving without finishing this..." I whine, squeezing my thighs together, causing the pressure on my spot to rise. "You are right." He brings his head out, making his hair fall messily on his face. He takes his hand out of my underwear, bringing his fingers to his lips. "Taste like heaven." He mumbles while he flips me on my stomach, raising my ass in the air.

"Look at fucking that..." He grips onto it hard; I swear, I will be covered in marks while this trip lasts. He lowers my panties, bringing the lacy underwear to my thighs and freeing my core to him. His thumb presses between my folds, stroking over and over again until he lines up the head of his cock to my entrance and thrusts forward. I gasp as he does, mouth going agape and hands gripping onto the pillow below me. He doesn't wait around for me to adjust before he thrusts into me with force. "Fuck... Fuck Luke..." I cry out, pulsing around him. "Shut up, princess. We don't want you being heard by everyone, do we?" He slaps my ass, pounding inside me. My stomach is tight, every thrust feeling like a punch in the gut. I grip onto the pillow harder, bouncing back to meet his thrusts. "You wanna fuck yourself on my cock, pretty girl? You wanna take my cock deep inside you?" He hisses, bringing his hand to the front of my body, grazing his fingertips over my clit. "Fuck, Luke... Fuck, I might cum now..." I whimper, turning my head to look at him. "Your little pussy is pulsing around me already. It feels so fucking good around my cock... But you will have to wait. Can you wait for me, babygirl?" He asks, rubbing his fingers on my clit fast, while his cock jams inside me, hitting on my cervix.

I whimper, shaking my head at him as I tug my bottom lip between my teeth. "Oh, I think you can, little brat." He chuckles, slowing down before he gives me a single powerful thrust, sending me a little forward. "I really can't. I wanna cum... Please." I beg, wiggling my hips and taking all of him inside me. "Cum and I'll make you regret it." He says sternly, slapping my clit as I squeeze around him, arching my back. Everything feels tingly, my toes curling as I moan louder with every thrust. "Please, Luke... I am a mess. Please..." I bet everything that my face is the reddest it has ever been. "Not... yet..." He hisses, becoming sloppy with his pounding. I fight with everything within me to hold back, trying not to focus too much on the sound his skin makes as it slaps against mine, or how good he feels, throbbing inside me. "Cum for me, pretty girl." He growls, grabbing my hips and forcing me to stay glued to him. I feel his cock pulse inside me, gasping as I hit my orgasm. My eyes go wide, my stomach tightens and I feel like collapsing on the mattress, but Luke keeps me steady, until he finally cums, pulling out of me and shooting over my ass. "Fuck, you look so good like that..." He praises, grabbing the tissue box from the nightstand.

I finally fall chest first on the mattress, gasping to catch my breath. "Am I supposed to let you leave me right now? Am I supposed to let you go to that interview now?" I ask and he chuckles. "I will be back very soon. By the time you're back from the spa and get ready for dinner, I will be here." He replies, pressing a kiss on the top of my ear. "Spa? Dinner?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows together. "Yes. I made a reservation for us tonight. Be pretty for me. Even prettier than you are now if it is possible..." He plants a kiss on the back of my neck. "Are you going to be pretty for me?" I ask and he hums. "The prettiest I can be." He whispers, making me smile. "What time should I be ready?" I ask and he takes a breath before replying. "Around 8:30. The reservation is at 9." He replies, nuzzling his nose in the crook of my neck.

"First day back from paradise, huh?" Maya asks, cocking an eyebrow playfully at me. "Yeah... I wish I was still there. I legit cried on the plane back home." I sigh, shutting my locker. She coos at me, patting my shoulder softly. "Was it that good?" She asks and I nod. "I didn't know life could be so stress-free. Well, for me, because he was on edge all the time. Shows, interviews, meet and greets. He had so much to do." I state, bringing the memory of him on tour in my brain. "Did he spend any time with you at all?" She asks and I nod, biting my bottom lip. "Every second he was free, he was with me. He was literally like a male protagonist from a romantic movie. He wined me, dined me, absolutely romanced me every chance he got. I thought I savored him enough to last me until the next time I would see him, but I was so wrong. I have been missing him since the second I went through the airport security." I pout and she chuckles at me sarcastically. "Poor baby (Y/N)..." She fake-coos at me, making me roll my eyes at her. "Don't tease. I mean, he has been on tour before since we have been together, but I miss him so badly right now, I would drop everything to go visit him again." I explain and she laughs, only to be stopped by the siren calling us to an emergency. "You'll tell me more afterward. And don't forget my gift." She points at me before running off while I slip my boots on.

I wait until the clock turns 12 so I can call Luke, who has probably just woken up in Germany. I press the facetime icon on my phone, bringing Petunia to my chest as I lay on the couch. "Hey, baby." I cheer, waving at him. He smirks and rubs his eyes, looking at the screen sleepily. "There are my girls... I've missed you both." He pouts, running his fingers through his messy locks. "We've missed you both as well. How's Germany?" I ask, stroking Petunia's head. "I haven't seen the city yet. We made it to Berlin late last night so we came straight to the hotel. I've been sleeping since. How was your first day back?" He asks me, smiling at me. "It was... eventful. We got called in for a house fire first thing in the morning. It was fine, everyone made it out of the house but the building is kinda fucked up. But I brought the first box of my stuff to your house." "You mean our house." He chuckles and I nod. "Yeah, I mean our house. It is still kinda hard to believe you asked me to move in." I admit and he moans happily. "You didn't see that coming? I was building the ground for so long. I've told you a million times that I love seeing your face first thing in the morning." He comments and I shrug. "There is a huge gap between saying you love seeing my face in the morning and actually asking me to move in with you, especially while you are on tour." I point out and he hums. "Did you eat anything today?" He asks, changing the topic. "Yeah, I went for drinks with Maya and grabbed a bite. Aren't you supposed to head to breakfast?" I ask and he nods. "In a bit. I wanna see your pretty face some more." He whines, making me smile at him. He looks so adorable sleepy, that if I was there, I would be cuddling him all day long. I just smile, taking in his face. "I miss you, pretty boy." I run my finger over my screen, pouting at him. "I miss you too, angel. I will be back before you know it, I promise." He assures me, eyes sparkling brightly.

I open my eyes, nearly going blind at the bright white lights above me. I look around, trying to blink until my vision becomes unblurred. There is a bunch of nurses around me, or at least I think they are nurses... A lot of people wearing medical clothes are surrounding me, making me panic. What happened to me? "Hey, hey. She is awake." One of the people on the medical team announces, making everyone turn to me. "(Y/N), stay calm..." One of the doctors tries to stop me from thrashing around. "(Y/N)... You were in a fire, you inhaled a lot of smoke, you lost consciousness due to monoxide poisoning. You need to keep the mask on." The doctor tries to explain. My head hurts, a headache forming to the front of my head and spreading to my temples. "(Y/N), you need to stay down. Follow my finger." One of the doctors steps in, moving her finger in front of my face, to a virtual line across my periphery. "Good. Now, squeeze my fingers." She instructs, placing her fingers in my palms. I squeeze her fingers and she nods, smiling at me. "Good, no signs of neurological deficiencies." She comments. I feel like I am hyperventilating, my eyes refusing to focus on anything.

My doctors decided to keep me in for observation, just to exclude the possibility of organ failure. The team cramped up in the room just an hour ago, but now I am left alone, moving my leg in jitters. My phone rings, making me pick it up from the little table next to my bed. I see Luke's contact pop up on my screen, bringing a smile to my face; he is the only person I really wanted to talk to right now. "Hey, bub." I smile as I accept the call and the video call goes live. Luke looks at me terrified, upset. I can tell he has been crying, his eyes are red and puffy and he looks tired. So, he knows... "Are you ok?" He asks me, gulping thickly. "I am fine. They are keeping me in for observation." I reply and he nods. He covers his face, sobbing and making my heart aching for him. "Baby, I am ok. I am fine, it is over. Hey, please don't cry." I try to console him, but he only sobs harder. "I... I can't do... I can't do this again... I thought I would die when they called me... I felt the earth crumble beneath my feet. I can't go through that again. I can't worry whether you'll make it home safe. I can't live in fear that something bad will happen to you..." I feel my heart stop, my stomach becoming tight and the urge to throw up taking over me. I bite the inside of my cheek and fight the tears that brim in my eyes, bracing myself for what I am about to say. "Say it. Say it, Luke. No need to be a coward now, say it." I nearly taunt him. "Please don't make it hard..." He pleads. I nod my head and swallow my pride, looking at him in the eye. "Ok, then. I'd hate to make this hard on you. It's over, Luke. I'll send Maya to pick up my stuff from your house and I will call Crystal to take care of Petunia." I say in my calmest voice, even though I feel like breaking down. "You don't have to... I mean, I won't be home for weeks and you can take your time." He suggests and I chuckle. "No need to worry about me anymore. Isn't that the reason you are breaking up with me?" I ask, but hang up before he could actually say anything more.

"Are you sure I can stay? Your boyfriend?" I ask Maya as she places pillows and covers on her couch. "He is fine... You can stay for as long as you need." She assures me, taking a seat on the armchair by the side of the couch. "I don't want to be a burden. I promise to find a new place within a week..." I state and she chuckles. "Yeah, yeah. No need to rush, stay as long as you want." She states, curling up on the armchair and bringing her beer to her lips. "You know, I thought he was the one... I thought we would last." I utter, leaning my head against the back of the couch. "I thought you would too, kid." She smiles sympathetically.

We rush out of the firetruck, heading towards the burning house. "You stay in the med truck." Captain orders and I nod. I haven't been cleared for duty yet, even though there have passed several weeks since the incident. I honestly don't trust myself either. Not only because the monoxide poisoning was traumatic, but the breakup has taken a huge toll on me. I have been living alone for a couple of weeks now, but I can't bring myself to actually live in the empty apartment. I sit on the edge of the truck, swinging my legs as I wait. Med duty is the most boring in the beginning but full-on action after a while. All the burns and trauma, trying to keep the person safe until you reach the hospital, times like this make me love my job, make me grateful for my certification. "Hey, girl... Wanna switch?" Maya rushes to me, plastering a psycho smile on her face. "No. Why?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows together. "Nothing, I thought you might want to take a walk... I can cover for you." She points to the street, making me chuckle sarcastically. "I am good, thanks." I stand up as someone from the team calls for incoming. "My offer is open if you change your mind. Alright, bring him in." She calls moving from the entrance of the back of the truck.

Clint carries Luke in, making me freeze for a moment. He is still conscious, but he had to be carried in by someone. "Do you think she'll kill him?" He asks Maya as he leaves the gurney. "If she doesn't, I might." She threatens, eyeing Luke, who looks just as nervous as I do. "Guys, mind taking this elsewhere? I am not going to kill anyone." I state, giving them my death glare. "Let's put this on." I fix the oxygen mask on his face, but he lowers it before I could turn on the oxygen tank. "You need that. And I need you to put it on so I can take a look at the burn at your leg." I sigh, picking the mask again. He pushes my hand away softly, stopping me. "Luke, please." I tremble, looking at him with tear-glazed eyes. "One moment. Just give me a moment." He gasps before coughing. "No moment. You need that if you don't want your lungs to explode." I point out, fixing the elastic on the back of his head. He surrenders, letting me put the mask on his face. "Deep breaths." I suggest, moving to take a look at his leg. "Second degree... Let me clean this and dress it before we take you to a hospital." I say, turning around to grab the kit. I hear him take breaths, somewhat rhythmic, which is a good sign. At least he won't die in my hands.

"I can accompany him to the hospital if you'd like... You can go rest." Clint offers and I shake my head. "I am fine. Really." "Isn't this kinda like how you met?" "Kinda. But it doesn't matter. Work before anything. I got this. I'll meet you back at the station." I smile and he nods. "If you need anything..." "It is just a drop-off." I reply and he hums. "It's not and you know it. But you know yourself better." He waves me off, letting me climb back into the truck. I sit on my seat and buckle up, watching over at Luke. He tries to remove the mask, but I shake my head at him. "Don't." I breathe out, turning my head away.

"(Y/N), my office." My captain calls, making me sigh as I drop my cleaning rug in the tool kit. I walk towards the office, closing the door behind me. "The man you transferred to the hospital earlier refuses treatment if he doesn't talk to you first." He announces, making my eyes go wide. "Is he insane?" I ask, taking a sit on the chair in front of the desk. "You tell me. They have been trying to convince him but he says he will only do it if you go there. The doctors said that if he keeps refusing they will have to release him." "Can he do that?" I ask. "What, refuse treatment? Of course, he can." He states, shrugging his shoulders. "No, ask for me, practically blackmail me..." I explain. "Well, apparently... Why do you want to do, (Y/L/N)?" He asks me and I take a deep breath. "I can't let him receive no treatment for a second-degree burn. He is going to get infected." I reply, bouncing my leg and biting my lip. "Well, you can. But do you want to?" He asks me, making me throw my head back, look at the ceiling, and huff. "I will be back as soon as I can." I promise before I jump up.

I walk into the emergency room, already feeling that everything I felt the night he broke up with me is rushing back to me. "Hi, a patient asked for me. Male, in his twenty's, has a burn on the left leg, refuses treatment..." I explain and the nurse nods. "Bed 5. Please be fast, the ER is getting overwhelmed." He begs, pointing toward the beds. I smile politely before I turn to walk to Luke's bed. He is sitting there, cross-armed and furrowing until the moment he sees me. "Are you stupid?" I ask, looking at him sternly. "I broke up with you, do you really have to ask me that?" He asks and I roll my eyes at him. "Why aren't you letting them treat you?" I ask, trying to calm myself down. "You didn't let me talk to you in the truck. And I really want to talk to you, because I haven't slept in weeks." He says, huffing at me. "I'll listen to you, while you take the treatment you need." I say, surrendering if that means dumb-head is not going to get an infection. "I'll take that." He says, letting the doctor finally approach him. "I messed up. Big time..." He admits, hissing as the doctor washes the wound. "You need to be more specific. My captain is this close to putting me in suspension." I state, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "I broke up with you because I was scared of losing you. Because I was afraid of you getting hurt on duty. And then you got hurt and I nearly died at the thought of something worse happening to you. I thought breaking up with you would be the best choice, that I would finally get rid of the tightness in my chest, but I was so wrong. I was worried because I love you, and breaking up with you didn't stop that. I am still worried about you getting hurt, I am still waking up with a tightness to my chest, I am still wondering if you will be alright. Fuck, I don't know what more to say. I love you, I need you back, I can't go on without you. It is driving me insane." He explains through hisses as the doctor takes care of him. "What makes you think that you will feel calmer if we get back together? I am still going to have the same job, you are still going to have anxiety because that's what it is, you are having anxiety attacks. I can't get back with you and then have you break up with me. I can't go through that again. You left me when I was hurt, you broke up with me over a video call. Do you know how bad that hurt? Do you know what big of a toll it took over me?" I ask, trying to whisper so the whole hospital won't learn our business. "I am a piece of shit and I deserve you leaving me and never talking to me. But I love you, I love you... And I promise to do whatever it takes. You deserve better, and I want to become better for you. I'll... I will do anything. I will sign up for therapy, I will learn to live with this... I promise to do better, I will never hurt you again. Please." He begs. "Please tell me you didn't set the house on fire just so you could see me again..." I sigh, making Luke shake his head. "No. I left the stove on after cooking and fell asleep on the couch." He replies, making the doctor chuckle. "You truly are a mess without me..." I point out and he nods. "I can't even tell you how big of a mess I am ever since the breakup." He looks at me with pleading eyes. I shake my head and roll my eyes, walking a little closer to him. "Oh, Luke... What am I even going to do with you?" I ask, cupping his face in my palms. "Apply antibiotics cream on his wound and dress it up 2 times a day until the follow-up because I really don't think he is capable of doing it himself?" The doctor asks me and I nod, leaning in to kiss Luke softly. "I will make sure of it, doc." I say after we part, making Luke hum.

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pietropatrol · 4 years

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Breaking the One Damn Rule (Part 11)

Read Part 10

A/N: Happy Fic Friday! Two weeks in a row! It’s also my birthday tomorrow and will hopefully be celebrating with a charcuterie/cheese board and wine!

Sure, you’re 100% down with having Pietro Maximoff’s baby—you couldn’t imagine anyone else fathering your children. But neither of you planned for this, you’re not even supposed to be together according to the Avengers. Finding out while Pietro was away on a mission was bad enough and now telling him during an attack, with your future family in danger, was not what you had in mind; and this is exactly why they forbid Pietro from having serious relationships in the first place. Whoops.

Pairing: Pietro x Reader

Warning: Kidnapping children, trauma, language

Words: 1,500ish

The skies had opened up over the city of New York City that early evening and never let up. An even bigger storm brewing behind the horizon of skyscrapers. Rain pelted against your window as a streak of lightning lit up your dim hospital room, followed by a sharp clap of thunder. Sharp enough to wake the dead.

Sharp enough to wake you from your comatose state.

Your eyelids felt like they had been glued together. When you opened them, they were out of focus and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust. Where were you? Where was Pietro?

Flowers covered every open counter space and a dozen of assorted baskets littered the floor. There was one that contained muffins and your stomach growled at the sight.

Your hand strayed down to your abdomen to rub your bump and it never reached one. Your stomach, though not as flat as it had been prior to pregnancy, was flat. All of a sudden it became hard to breathe and something was beeping in the distance.

What had happened? Where was Pietro? Where was your baby? When you tried to sit up it, a tube stopped you from ripping your blanket off.

You looked down at your hands to see an IV and a pulse oximeter. You were in the hospital? How long had you been here?

It didn’t matter, you had to get out. You had to get to Pietro and your baby. Your baby had to be with him, and safe, right? You ripped out the offending tubing, and swung your legs off the side of the bed, and pushed off.

The door to your room opened and your gaze met the familiar fatherly face of one Clint Barton.

“Y/N!” Clint dropped the cup of coffee in his hand and rushed over as you began to teeter. “You’re awake!”

“Where’s my baby?” Your voice was low and shaking, you could barely hear yourself. As if you were already afraid that you knew the answer.

“Please lay back down, Y/N. You’re looking a bit pale.” Clint tried to guide you back to the bed.

You jerked your arms away, leaving a smear of blood on Clint’s arm. “No! Tell me, Clint.”

“Only if you get back in bed.” Clint saw the manic look in your eyes and was afraid that if he said anything you would fall apart before him.

You lowered yourself onto the edge of your bed. Your baby had to be with Pietro. That could be the only possibility.

Clint gently pushed your back into the bed, covering you back up with the blanket. He swung a chair next to your bed and took a deep breath. “Y/N, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Your memory was murky and you tried to grasp onto any piece of memory. “Hydra attacking the restaurant. I fired Tony’s repulsor hoping to cause enough of a distraction.”

“Y/N,” Clint took your hand, “You’ve been comatose for almost a month.”

“A month?” you echoed back, “I’ve missed that much time? How’s Pietro handling being a dad on his own?”

Clint took a deep breath. He did not want to be the one to tell you, but Pietro and Wanda were across the world if he had to guess, which left him as the next person in line to tell you. “Y/N, we found you… alone. Hydra left you to die, Pietro found you just in time.”

“By alone you mean…” Your voice caught in your throat.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Pietro and Wanda are out looking for them right now. As soon as you stabilized, they started following any lead they could. Last we heard they were in Nepal. I will have Nat send out a message that you woke up.” Clint squeezed your hand. “I can’t even imagine what your feeling right now, but we’re all here for you and they’re going to find them. Pietro and Wanda are strong on their own as is, but together and out for vengeance, they are unstoppable. When we first met them, when they were under Hydra, they gave us a run for our money. They also took Vision with them.”

“When you say looking for them—”

“It was twins, we don’t know how to explain it. Wanda saw it in your head.”

You swallowed the tightness in your throat. “I’ll take your word for it.” The hollow chuckle that bubbled out of you terrified Clint. “Clint?”

“Yes?”

“I want you and Nat to train me. I’m not going to sit idly by.”

Clint saw the spark of anger in your eyes and the determination set in your jaws. He wasn’t sure how to react. He could handle crying, but this was rage brewing. Much like your other half, he assumed you were a force to reckoned with when provoked. “You need to heal before anything.”

That would buy him some time. Pietro should be able to get back to you before then. Clint wouldn’t dare do anything to piss Pietro off and letting you hurt yourself would definitely do it.

“Heal?” You questioned.

Clint gave you a perplexed look. “Y/N, you were cut open.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” You didn’t feel any pain.

“Maybe it’s the shock?”

You pressed your lower abdomen. “I had my appendix taken out in college, and that hurt. Now… now I feel nothing.”

“Um, I’m going to get your nurse.” Clint shot off the chair and out the door.

****

The moment Pietro received word you had woken up he made plans to get back to you. Wanda wanted to come too, but Pietro wanted her to keep looking for the twins. They were in deep, trying to find Hydra hideouts and it had taken almost three weeks for Pietro to get Nat’s message.

He practically ran back to you, save for the ocean he had to get over. He took one flight and started running as soon he got out of the terminal.

Pietro had prepared to see you broken and inconsolable. Steve was waiting by the elevator as Pietro arrived. “Cap?”

“Welcome back, anything?”

“Nope, look I’d love to chat, but I need to get to Y/N.” Pietro turned to walk down the hallway to your room, but Steve stopped him.

“She’s not in her room. Come with me.” Steve lead Pietro back to the elevator and to the 15th floor.

“Why is she on the training floor?” Pietro’s jaw tightened. He thought he had left you in good hands. “She should be resting.”

“You can bring that up with her. We tried.” Steve pulled him over to one of the simulation mazes.

Pietro looked at the tracking monitors to see you suited up, working your way through the maze with Clint and Nat. “Are you fucking crazy?! Get her out of there!”

“This isn’t her first go.” Steve motioned to the hologram with your stats. Not as good as Clint and Nat’s, obviously, but you had excellent marksmanship and your hand to hand combat was ranked above Tony’s out of the suit. “You’re free to end the simulation—”

Pietro slammed his hand on the stop button and glared at Steve. “I am not happy about this.”

“Clearly.” Steve grimaced.

The lights went on in the simulation maze. Making it hard to see, you had been doing a night test. “Steve, what the fu—”

“Draga!” That voice made your heart skip a beat. You didn’t even see him coming. In a split second, you were in his arms being squeezed tightly. Your face nestled into his chest.

“Piet.” You melted into him, having to bury your tears deeper and deeper. Now was not the time.

“You should be resting,” he softly growled in your ear.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back.

Pietro let go after a lingering kiss to your temple as he breathed you in again. “Seriously, explain. Clint, I put you in charge of her care, and I come home to find she’s been simulating?”

“Pietro, don’t be mad. I begged.” You finally got a good look at him. He was rougher around the edges and he had grown a slight beard. If it hadn’t been caused by your current circumstances, you would have dwelled longer on how ruggedly handsome he looked.

“Oh, that makes it so much better.” Pietro gave you a look. “You need to be taking it easy.”

“I’m fully healed and I’m not going to get hurt,” you countered.

“The last time I saw you, you were on death’s doorstep. It can happen again. It will happen again if you try to get involved with this.” The pain was evident in Pietro’s eyes. He had spent so much time trying to block out the image of you basically lifeless. It would haunt him forever.

“Seriously, I can’t get hurt.” You pulled out a small dagger from your thigh holster and ran it across your palm before Pietro could figure out what you were doing.

“Draga!” He made to grab your wrist, but you turned away. Crimson pooled in your cupped hand for a moment and you wiped it away on your pant leg to reveal no wound.

Pietro grabbed your hand to examine it closely. “What the hell?”

****

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all1e23 · 5 years

Text

Code Date Night [One-Shot]

Summary: Sparks ruin date night.

Warnings: A little bit of angst. Lots of fluff. Sweet, protective Bucky.

A/N: A new Astrophile drabble! YAY! As a warning, Bucky is injured on the job in case that’s a trigger for anyone. No death. There is a bit of angst, but it’s still Astrophile fluff. It takes place roughly 5/6 years after the epilogue. Write me a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me if you like it. If you have not read the series Astrophile, THERE WLL BE MAJOR SPOILERS.

Catch up on the series here!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!*

Bucky leans forward in the back of the truck, adjusting his boots. His feet are killing him, and he just wants to be off this damn job. The love he has for his career and his brother runs deep, but he’s so ready to get home and see his wife. That is something he never thought he would say. He’s always loved work more than most things in his life, but here he is desperate to get back to the station so he can see his girl. He settles in next to Steve and continues to hum the same tune he has been humming for the last several turns. He pulls his hair into a tight bun at the base of his neck and continues humming. In just under eight hours, his shift will be over, and he will be holding his sweet Beck.

The tune repeats once more from the start, and the moment it finishes, Bucky glances at the men around him.

“Okay, what’s it from?”

Steve leans his head back against his seat and fires off a guess without any real pause to consider the melody. “Flintstones?”

Clint tears his eyes from the road for a split second and sets Sam with a flat look. “Flinstones? What the hell? Sam, you need to sit down and teach your husband a thing or two.”

Sam chuckles and sends a Steve wink who promptly blushes at the gesture.

“It’s Happy Days.” Sam glances at Bucky for conformation. “Right? Happy Days?”

Bucky chuckles and leans forward to give him a high five. Same dumb game every shift. They have to do something to pass the time when things are less than exciting, and it never fails to end the same way. Steve never guesses right, Clint makes fun of him, and Sam wins.

“Yeah, it’s been stuck in my head since yesterday morning. It’s on all night on that rerun channel, and the twins have decided four in the morning’ means it’s time to get up.”

“Let’s be real. You get up that early, or is Y/n getting up?” Sam asks with a snort, disbelief, and humor filling his words.

“Screw off. I’m gettin’ up. I get up every time my babies cry, punk. What about you? You get up with Stevie over here?”

Steve rolls his eyes. This happens every shift. Every damn day. “Of course, Sam wakes up when I do, Buck.”

“Damn right, but we are kind of passed that stage, dumbass.” Bucky lurches forward and knocks his helmet off his head. Sam whips his gloves into the backseat catching Bucky on the side of his head. Bucky jumps ahead, but Steve grabs him by the back of the jacket and jerks him back into his seat.

“Hey, guys…” Clint shouts over their scuffle. “As fun as this round was, we got a real problem coming up on the right.”

Steve leans forward to see a thick cloud of black smoke rolling out of the windows of a small four-story apartment building. The bronzed painted wood paneling on the outside of the broken windows is quickly turning black from the flames burning through the wood framing. Steve sits back and gives Sam an order before slipping his helmet on.

“Call it in. I’ve got a feeling this one is going to be ugly.”

By the time the truck came to a stop, the windows on the fourth floor had shattered. Bucky and Sam rushed in to pull out as many people as they could. The bottom two floors were cleared, the tenants could feel the heat before it ever reached them. Even with his gear, Bucky could feel it. Sam took the third floor, and Bucky ventured up to the fourth, pulling out a woman in her late forties who was trapped in her bedroom thanks to a fallen beam.

Steve waited for their all-clear before he breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone was out, and they could focus on putting the fire out, not carrying out bodies.

Steve made eye contact with Sam and shouted over the noise surrounding them, “Get that redline in here! We can get it under control before it spreads any further.”

The woman Bucky had pulled out of the flame is sitting on a stretcher, fighting against the EMTs and clawing to get to Bucky. She kept shouting about going back in, and Bucky tried five or six times to tell her there was no way anyone could go back in now until they got the flames under control.

“I don’t know what you’re saying with that mask on! My kitty is in there!"

Bucky yanks his breath mask off in frustration and tosses to Clint standing nearby. He is not in the mood. He’s already running late for date night, and all he wants to do is get a shower, eat some damn pasta, and make love to his wife on the one night his kids spend at Aunt Natasha’s.

Now he’s got to deal with a fire that the Gods had to dump in their laps.

As much as he would love to save this woman’s cat. They can’t go back in. All they can do now is put out the remaining flames and go in once it was safe.

"Ma'am, I understand but–"

"Mom?!"

The unit looks up and sees a little girl about nine standing on the fire escape, and the woman’s voice catches Bucky’s ear. "I told you! My kitty! She was hiding in one of the cupboards!"

"Shit.” Steve steps back from the truck. “Get the ladder!“

There isn’t enough time. Bucky shakes his head and makes a run for the fire escape on the side of the building. He Jerks the rickety metal ladder down and starts to climb up to meet the little girl. She is frozen from fear, and he wouldn’t leave her up there all alone and scared like that. He can hear Steve ordering him to back off, but he can’t. What if it was Orion? Or his sweet little Cassie trapped up there? He can’t just stand on the ground and watch.

"Buck! Watch out for the–"

——–

“He climbed up the fire escape to help the nine-year-old girl down before the building collapsed. The heat had cracked the window she climbed out of, so he covered her with his jacket before moving her to a safer floor. Flashover shattered the window, and that’s when he got the burn to his left shoulder and upper arm. There was a lot of smoke covering them for a good minute. Not sure how much he took in.”

“Okay,” the emergency room doctor sighs and glances up at Steve. “We’ve got it from here. We can notify his family if you don’t–”

“No.” Steve’s voice cuts through the room, and he attempts to soften it. “I’ll call. We are family– I’ll handle it. He’s in my company.”

The doctor nods. He understands. He deals with injured emergency servicemen and women more than he would like, so he understands Steve wants to be the one to make the call. They are a family in the way none of the hospital staff could understand. He leaves Steve to make the call and makes his way back to where Bucky is fighting against the heavy sedation they pumped into him. Steve doesn’t waste another second and heads for the elevator, but Sam catches his wrist before he can get far and pulls him back just a step or two.

"Where are you going?” His voice is soft and warm. He’s speaking as a husband, not a member of Steve’s company.

Steve gives his partner’s hand a squeeze and pulls his arm free of the shorter man’s grip. “It’s Tuesday. That’s their date night. I’m not going to call her in the middle of the restaurant and tell her what happened. It’s not far from here. I’ll tell her in person.”

Sam doesn’t try to argue with him; just simply nods. Once Steve’s made up his mind about something, there is no changing it. He watches Steve go and then turns his attention back to Bucky, watching through the glass wall that separated them.

"BP is good. His vitals are stable despite the injuries and smoke inhalation.”

The words coming from the blond nurse on Bucky’s right sound far away and almost muffled. As if his head was underwater, or the way Leo sounds from under his Spider-Man mask. For some reason, Bucky can’t work out, she continues trying to talk to him despite his drowning. The white lights flashing over his eyes make him wince, and his eyes focus on the room around him. He quickly recognizes where he is. He’s in the hospital, and that means… No, this isn’t good. Bucky has to get up and get out of this bed right now.

He has somewhere to be and someone he can’t let down. He can’t let her down like this.

Bucky groans and tugs at the tubes in his nose as he struggles to sit up. His left arm burns, but he ignores it. There is a pinch every time he tries to move his shoulder to pull out the IV. It doesn’t matter. He has somewhere to be. A gentle hand lands on his chest, “Lieutenant Barnes. You have to sit back for me and keep that in your nose. We need you breathing clean air.”

With the weight of the hand and whatever medication they gave him, he is too weak to push back against their gentle urging. Bucky falls back against the bed, but he continues to try to pull the sheets off his leg to climb out of the cold hard bed – nothing like his bed at home, it’s warm and soft and filled with the people he loves most. He wants his bed, not this sad excuse for one.

“You don’t understand. I got a date– My wife–”

“We can call your wife and let her know. I’m sure she will understand. You can go on your date another night.” The kind-looking nurse on his life cuts in.

Bucky shakes his head rather quickly, making his head spin and tugs at the plastic tube in his nose again. He can feel his chest tightening at the thought of Y/n, his Beck, sitting alone waiting for him to show up. He needs to make sure she is okay.

“No, you don’t understand. My wife wrote it on the calendar. We have a calendar in our kitchen and, and she wrote it down for tonight. She– she wrote in pen, okay? I can’t not show up. I can’t.”

“Mr. Barnes–”

“I promised my wife I wouldn’t–” He takes a deep breath and repeats, forcing his panic down. “She wrote it in pen.”

——–

Y/n glances at her watch once more and drums her fingers along the stem of her wine glass. She’s not nervous. Bucky is only forty-five minutes late. The large glass door at the front of the dark restaurant swings open, she sits up straighter, and a small smile starts to curl up the corners of her mouth until she realizes it’s no one she knows. It’s certainly not the man she’s eagerly waiting on. She huffs out a breath and slouches back down in her seat, grabbing her phone to check for any missed texts – not that there will be, that phone hasn’t left her hand all night.

She takes a picture of her nearly empty glass of pinot noir and sends it to Bucky with a small warning following the image, I’m on my second glass. If you don’t get here soon, I might have to find someone else to take me home. They both know she would never, but they tease each other and the foundation they’ve built all of this isn’t shaken by something that silly. It’s one of the things she loves most about their relationship. She’s never had that before, but she likes it, and she likes that it’s with Bucky.

No reply. No phone call, and it doesn’t look like he has seen the picture she sent. Her thumb hovers over Steve’s number, but she quickly talks herself out of it. This is getting silly. She doesn’t need to be that wife, the one that calls the second her husband is late and makes a fool of herself. Bucky said he would be there, and he will. He would never let her down, it’s not in him – his heart would never let him do anything to hurt her.

Everything is fine. He’s just late. She isn’t worried in the least. It’s perfectly normal for him to be a little late every now and then. Only three weeks ago, he had picked up an extra shift out of nowhere, making up for someone on day shift that needed to trade out. It’s part of the job, and she knows that. It’s not like Bucky is an accountant, working a simple nine to five and home at the same time every night without question. She knew that going in and saw it several times with Nat and Orion before she even met Bucky.

There is nothing to be concerned about. He’s merely running late and will be there soon. He promised, and he always keeps his promises.

She is not worried.

A tingle runs down her spine, giving her goosebumps and causing her to look up only to find Steve strolling towards her. The sight of the blond makes her breathe a sigh of relief. If Steve is here picking up dinner, everything is fine, and Bucky will be there in no time.

“Steve, what are you doing here?” Y/n asks, forcing a relaxed smile despite the way her heart is pounding in her chest. “Picking up dinner?”

“No, Y/n. I’m not here for dinner.” Steve holds out his hand for hers and nods towards the exit, gesturing for her to get up and follow him. “I called Nat, and she said she would sleep at your place tonight with the kids and take them to school the next few days.”

“W-what?”

Her heart sinks into her stomach, and her fingers instantly start to tremble. There’s a buzzing in her ears that won’t go away with a few shakes of her head like she hoped they would. Steve’s gaze doesn’t leave her, but he’s not giving anything away; his face is utterly blank. Whatever he needs to tell her he doesn’t want to do it here, in front of a restaurant full of people and that makes her stomach churn even more. She hesitantly reaches up to take the hand that Steve is holding out for her.

“Why does Nat– Steve, please… Where is Bucky?“

The panic seeping out from her chest is starting to slip into her voice. She can’t help it. Steve came to get her, her husband is for all intents and purposes missing, and he never ignores her calls like this. Something is wrong. Steve squeezes his fingers around hers and pulls her up. His arm tightens around her waist to keep her on her feet.

Just in case.

"Steve… Where is he?”

The crack in Steve’s demeanor tells her everything she needs to know before he gets a word out. Bucky’s hurt. He’s not making it to date night. Calendar and pen could do nothing to change that.

“He’s at the Brooklyn Methodist. He’s going to be okay, but we need to get you there.”

——–

“Mr. Barnes. For the love of–”

A deep sigh leaves the young nurse attending Bucky’s bedside, and it sounds as if she wants to throw her scrubs in the bin and never come back. It’s late nearing the end of her shift, and Bucky isn’t exactly the easiest of patients at the moment. “I know you’re upset. We’ve called home for you four times. The quicker we get you patched up, the quicker you can get out of here and back to her.”

“I have to see my wife now. Not in’a couple of days. She, She can’t go through that again. I know this sounds crazy, and I am sorry I am being a pain in the ass, but she wrote it friggin’ pen! Just give me the paper to sign that says I’m refusing care–”

“I don’t think so, Lieutenant Barnes.” Bucky’s head snaps up at the sound of her voice, and his whole body relaxes at the sight of Y/n standing in the doorway, she’s not smiling, probably because of what she just heard, but she’s wearing that little red number he loves so much. It’s the one that falls off her shoulders and hugs every inch of her body, and it’s really got him regretting missing date night.

“You’re not going anywhere, and you’re going to let them do whatever they need to.”

Bucky glances up to see the nurse smirking at how quickly he settles back against the pillow because his wife told him to. That might bother him if Y/n wasn’t walking around the slightly uncomfortable hospital bed and taking his right hand in hers. She regards his left arm, carefully. There’s no hint of what she feels, which is unusual for her. Bucky can nearly always tell what she’s thinking because she wears every emotion right there in those pretty eyes. If you just look close enough you can see everything that’s written on her heart.

The white bandage, littered with splotches of yellow and light red, is wrapped around his bicep and extendeds up his shoulder spreading towards his chest, and her eyes trace every inch of it. The stretch of the injury explains the lack of a shirt on her husband. Whatever happened though left the tattoo on his arm untouched and she breathes a sigh of relief, not only would that hurt Bucky, it would break Ori’s heart to see it gone from her father’s arm. Y/n’s hand finds its way into his hair, and she gives a gentle tug until his head falls against her chest.

“Beck,” Bucky whispers, whimpers, really, but no one is going to call attention to it. The way he’s clinging to her is for a husband and wife only, and those left in the room take the hint. Y/n runs her fingers through his hair, and he takes a deep breath before whispering against her skin, “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t– I tried to get there.”

Y/n’s hands freeze in his hair while he babbles on about missing ‘it’ and apologizing for hurting her. She can’t work out why he is apologizing until she hears him say, I know I promised and you wrote in pen and ‘m sorry I made you worry. Bucky, her sweet December, is lying in bed with what could very well be third-degree burns on his arm, and he’s concerned about pens, past hurts, and the promise he made to never leave a similar scar on her heart.

All he cares about is the damage done to her.

“It’s alright,” She assures him with a simple kiss to the top of his head, his temple, and his cheek, right over the stray tear that slipped out before he could force it back. "We can do it another night. There are plenty of empty spaces on the calendar.”

"But–"

"I’ll draw an arrow to a new night. In pen.” She sinks down next to him on the stiff bed and leans her forehead against his. “I don’t care what night we do date night as long as you’re the one I’m meeting.”

“You better not be meetin’ anyone else,” Bucky whispers in her ear. There is a hint of playful teasing in his voice, and it makes her grin. He is attempting to quell her unvoiced fears and give her back some of her equilibrium in the wake of what could have been their end, and she loves him for it.

“I hear you had two glasses of wine tonight and were lookin’ for someone to take you home tonight? Whaddya say you come home with me darlin’?”

“Mmm.” She considers the offer with a soft giggle and pecks his lip softly.

“That can be arranged, handsome. Let the doctors give you a once over and make sure you’re okay, then I’ll let you take me home, December.”

“Whatever you want, Beck.”

——–

Four days it’s been since Bucky was admitted to the hospital. Four days since he’s been allowed to sleep in his own bed or be able to really hold his wife. It has been four tortuously long days since he’s seen his kids and Bucky won’t make it another day without seeing their sweet faces.

Y/n wanted to bring them in, but the first few days he was in a lot of pain, and he didn’t want them to see him like that. It’s not something his kid should ever have to see. Ori was old enough to understand it was a burn and that he got injured on the job but that she meant she understood. Bucky is worried if she knows all the details, she will panic every time he leaves for work, and she may be that much closer to being a full-blown teenager, but she’s still his baby, and she should get to be a kid, worry-free for as long as she can.

As for the twins, they wouldn’t fully understand, but he didn’t want them to be scared of him. He was hooked up to a lot of machines, and he didn’t want them to have nightmares. It was better to wait.

Thankfully, today was the day. Bucky gets to go home, and Uncle Steve dropped all three troublemakers off about twenty minutes ago. Cassie and Leo ran straight for his bed and climbed up on his lap to smother him in hugs and kisses, which he happily accepted and returned. Orion, though, she hung back with Y/n at the foot of the bed, holding her mother’s hand and avoiding Bucky’s gaze.

He really hates it, not because she’s choosing her mom over him or something as petty and trivial as that. Orion chooses Y/n over him more often than not, and he’s okay with it, loves it in fact, but she’s avoiding him because she’s scared and upset, and he hates that he’s the cause of ache in his daughter.

Once they get home, they will have to talk, just him and his comet, but for now, he keeps it light for the twins.

“What have you two been doin’ without me? Drivin’ your uncles and sister crazy?” Asked Bucky, forced humor therein his voice that only Y/n catches.

Cassie doesn’t say anything. She curls into Bucky’s right side, under his arm, and hides her face in his shirt. She was scared, still is. She’s been terrified since Uncle Steve picked her up from Aunt Nattie’s and said daddy was sick at the hospital, so she would have to stay at their house till he got better. She cried the last three nights in a row and slept in her uncle’s bed, snuggled between them.

Leo isn’t oblivious to what’s going on around him. He is just as upset, but he doesn’t show his feelings as quickly as Cassie does. He tries to be strong for his mama and sisters – just like his daddy does! So, he sits on Bucky’s lap and nods, “I slept with sissy and Oviver at Uncle Stevie’s house."

"There’s an ‘L’ in Oliver, buddy. You slept with sissy, you said?” Bucky questions, and his eyes shift to Orion, who is trying her hardest not to cry and scare the twins any more than they already are.

“You’ve got a pretty awesome big sister, huh?”

Leo nods and beams at Orion, who gives him a small smile back.

Bucky raises his left arm, ignores the burning on his chest, and ushers her over with a wave of his hand. Orion didn’t have to be told twice. She dashes over and snuggles into his left side, careful of the bandage on his chest and arm. It isn’t anything too serious. Second-degree burns that may not even leave a scar, and he gets to be home with the kids for two or three weeks until it heals fully. Bucky is thankful it’s nothing compared to what it could have been because he could have been so much worse.

Still, he knows it looks pretty scary to his kids.

“Okay, you three know I’m alright, don’t ya?” Bucky places a kiss on Ori’s forehead and the top of Cassie’s head. He motions for Leo to lean in and when the four-year-old does Bucky’s lips land right in the middle of his forehead, making him giggle.

There is a muffled yeah from his girls, and Leo nods hesitantly. Bucky sighs and catches Y/n’s eye, silently begging for help. She’s better at this, better at the whole words thing. As much as he tries, Bucky isn’t as good as Beck – regardless of what she thinks. Cassie looks up at Bucky and tugs his shirt, grabbing his attention.

“Daddy?” The small voice coming from his side makes him drop Y/n’s gaze, and he finds Cassie staring up at him wide-eyed and curious.

“Yeah, stardust?”

“Your arm hurts?”

Bucky shakes his head and gives his shoulder a couple of shrugs to prove his point. There is a little bit of pain if he keeps it in motion, but Cassie didn’t need those details. She just needs to know her daddy is okay and all good for their nightly cuddle sessions.

“A little bit, baby. It’s just a little burn, but as long as I keep it clean and wrapped up, it will be alright. I promise I’m okay. Just need rest and cuddles from my babies, and I’ll be right as rain.”

She nods seemingly approving of the answer and then pipes up again, “Can we all cuddles in bed tonight?"

Leo appears to like the idea because he scoots further up Bucky and lays his head on Bucky’s stomach. Ori glances between her parents, waiting for what she clearly hopes is a yes. Bucky catches Y/n’s eye and grins. She grins right back and shrugs just light enough for Bucky to spot but not the kids.

“Of course.” Y/n says with a smile and a wink for Ori. “I always want you three snuggled up with us. We might need to invest in a bigger bed, though, with our two little bed hogs.”

Bucky chuckles and tightens his arms around his kids. “Nah, we will be fine, Beck. Just gotta cuddle real close, and everything will be just fine.”

#Bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #fireman!Bucky #Firefighter AU #daddy!bucky #no longer single dad AU #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #astrophile files

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until-theend-oftheline · 5 years

Text

Coming Home to Him

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mention of PTSD. But it’s fluff

Square Filled: Sleepy Nuzzling for @goodthingshappenbingo and Blankets for @buckybarnesbingo

Word Count: 1000ish

A/N: This is also written for @jewels2876 as part of my 1 year anniversary celebration. Sorry I am so slow

Betaed by: @percywinchester27 - thank you so much Ana. I wuv yooou!

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Your job as a nurse meant you worked different hours. You loved your job more than anything. It was in your nature to help others. You felt as if you were making a difference, which meant that the long hours and at times challenging cases were worth it.

You had never given the odd hours you worked much thought. Not until you met Bucky Barnes. Bucky had come into your hospital grumbling at the injured team member he was practically carrying and then tossed onto one of the gurneys. A few of your colleagues had rushed to tend to Clint Barton and his bullet wound and broken legs, while you had tried to get any and all useful information you could out of Bucky.

He had been grumpy and surly as hell, but finally, you had realized his behavior had little to do with you and your line of questioning and everything to do with where you were. Bucky’s eyes had been flickering around the room and certain sounds had made him jump ever so slightly. As soon as you had recognized the PTSD triggered by the hospital, you had guided Bucky into the courtyard. You had quickly procured a couple of cups of coffee before sitting down across from him. Bucky had slowly begun to relax after that and it had been easier to drag the answers you needed from him.

A few days later Bucky had been waiting for you outside the hospital. A little stalkerish according to your friend and colleague. You might have agreed with her, had it not been for the kindness in his eyes and his flustered and nervous behavior. Bucky had thanked you for helping Clint that night and apologized for his behavior. You still smiled when you remembered how he had nervously run his hand behind his neck, looking down at his feet as he asked if he could buy you a cup of coffee in return for your kindness.

You had assured him it wasn’t necessary but had somehow ended up agreeing all the same. That had been the start of your friendship. A friendship that had grown into love and now even though Bucky still technically lived in the Avengers Tower, he spent almost every night in your apartment.

Bucky’s presence at times made leaving for night shifts hard. You didn’t want to leave the apartment when it also meant leaving your warm, loving boyfriend.

Bucky made your apartment feel like a home. You hadn’t known you had missed that sense before you met him. It was strange that Bucky was from another time, being kept alive for a decade by super serum and cryo sleep and still, it felt as if you were meant to find each other. It felt as if you belonged with Bucky and it was a feeling you were happy to embrace.

You smiled softly as you tiptoed into your bedroom in the early morning hours after ending your shift at the hospital. Bucky was lying on his stomach, spread out across your bed. The covers and blankets were scattered across the floor and you knew a part of his sleep had been uneasy. It wasn’t now though. He looked soft and at peace, even with a slight smile on his lips as you quietly entered the room. You picked up the blankets scattered around the bed, gently tucking one around him and Bucky stirred slightly.

“Sorry,” you whispered, tenderly running your fingers through his hair, and tucking it away from his face. Your smile grew when you saw the smile form on Bucky’s face even if his eyes were still closed.

You moved to get back of the bed when Bucky reached out wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into bed with him. You squealed in surprise but Bucky didn’t even open his eyes as he flung his leg over yours, and nuzzled his nose against your neck.

“Bucky!” you laughed, struggling weakly against him. You needed a shower but he made it really hard to make a serious attempt to getaway.

“I smell like the hospital,” you whined, playfully tugging at his hair to get his face away from you. Of course, your attempts were futile and he just snuggled closer to you.

Bucky looked up at you for the first time. He looked sleepy, sweet and warm. His brown long hair sticking out everywhere and blue eyes shimmering with mischief.

“I don’t care. I want kisses,” Bucky announced with a smile, kissing your jaw gently.

You gasped as you felt a cool metal hand slide underneath your shirt to caress your sides.

“Sorry,” Bucky mumbled sheepishly against your skin, before pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

“Bucky. I’m still in my scrubs,” you tried, even though you knew you weren’t going to win this one. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you didn’t want to.

“Well, I can fix that,” Bucky looked up at you with a cheeky grin on his face, as his hand wandered higher. His fingers sneaked beneath your sports bra, caressing the underside of your breast. You moaned softly, closing your eyes, smiling as you felt Bucky’s warm soft lips on yours.

You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck and Bucky raised his head, looking down at you. The grin on his face was infuriating and adorable all at the same time and the brown locks falling down to frame his face did not help make him any less irresistible.

“Did I win?” Bucky asked smugly, already knowing the answer, causing you to groan and pull him back down against your lips.

“Shut up and kiss me, Barnes,” you playfully sulked, and Bucky chuckled into the kiss and you couldn’t help but smile. Bucky was your home and if he wanted you to spend the morning in bed with him, showering could wait.

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Bucky Barnes Tag Team

@feelmyroarrrr @littlebittcrazy @sleepretreat @roxyspearing @jewels2876 @hellaqueerangelofthelord @blacktithe7 @danijimenezv @rumoured-whispers @becs-bunker @smoothdogsgirl @avengerscompound @grace-for-sale @scarletlingeries @averyrogers83 @sebs-potato @sorenmarie87 @docharleythegeekqueen @erosbellarke @the-wayward-robot @super100012 @myfanficlibrarium @lucifersbird @achishisha @awkwardfangirl2014 @igotkatiepowers @dottirose @panicatttckiss @kimmiestrawberrykiwi @sdciopo @deathofmissjackson @cosicas-cuquis @stormi-ames @anxiousamandapanda

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x you #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction

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ktrivia · 4 years

Photo

All Men Dream

Bucky x Reader

Summary:

Reader is enhanced with the powers to enter dreams. She originally entered Captain America's dreams just to see if she could, but kept returning to them because she loved spending time in the 1940s ease of life in his idyllic versions of the time. But what happens when the good Captain figures out something is amiss?

Author’s Notes:

When I originally wrote this chapter I had just had dental surgery and I guess the meds I was on (which probably helped with writing this) made me think I posted it. No joke, I just spent a half hour searching through tumblr and almost messaged @searchingforbucky to find my own damn fic. Turns out I just never posted it to begin with (insert shrugging emoji here)

I’m currently in the process of writing the next chapter and I greatly appreciate everyone’s patience during my long absence from this story!

If you would like to be tagged in this story (I’m so excited that people actually want to read this) please send me a message!

Also let me know what you think of this chapter! I always love getting comments, questions, and theories!

Chapter 5

Bucky’s POV

I tried opening my eyes, but it felt like someone had poured cement over them. They were heavy and it took every little bit of focus to get them cracked open. As light filtered in and shapes began to form, I began to hear snippets of the voices around me.

“Clint! Clint! Wake-“

“Med bay!”

“Blood coming from-“

Turning my head slowly, I tried to see what the commotion was about. Why was I so tired? I saw Clint laying on a medical bed next to me with Natasha essentially on top of him as she shook his face violently. Had we gone on a mission and he’s been injured? Lifting my heavy head, I looked down at my body, inspecting it for wounds, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

As I looked past my feet, I saw her. Y/N was slumped over in her chair. Electrodes were still attached to her forehead and chest, but she seemed almost lifeless. Adrenaline shot through me as my eyes opened completely and the memories of her in my dreams appeared again.

Scrambling off the bed was as ungraceful as it could be with the sedatives still burning from my system, but I stood up and started making my way to her as fast as I possibly could. I was stopped by a large body blocking me.

“Buck! What did she do to you?” Steve questioned firmly while taking in my sedated state.

“She didn’t. It’s those damn drugs Banner gave me to knock me out,” I explained without taking my eyes off of Y/N. Now that I was closer, I could see blood running out of her ears and nose.

“Steve, we have to help her,” I said as I pushed around him. Steve grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

“Clint’s not awake Bucky. We don’t know if she did something to him and it backfired and that’s why she’s bleeding.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” I yelled. “He’s just sedated. She needs help. She purposely did this to herself so Clint and I would get out of there safely.” I wrenched my arm free and ran to her, dropping to my knees in front of the chair. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Banner running to grab the hospital bed I had been lying on.

I placed my hands on each side of her face, tilting her head up to face me. With each thumb I gently pulled open her eyelids to check for pupillary response. When light hit them, her pupils both contracted which meant her brain had hopefully not suffered too much damage from what had happened, if any. Steve spoke as I manually checked her pulse, not trusting the low reading on the electrodes were showing.

“What happened in there?”

“She looked uncomfortable the minute she brought Clint into there,” I explained clinically while still checking her vitals. “She was still sarcastic and seemed outwardly upbeat, but she started getting really pale and I could see her wincing like something was hurting her. By the end, she looked like she was going to keel over and that’s exactly what happened. But instead of waking up and helping herself, she made sure Clint got out. I don’t know how she did it, but she made sure He and I were safe before breaking the connection. She saved our asses, Steve.”

By the time I finished explaining, Bruce had arrived with the rolling hospital bed. Carefully, and without removing any of the attached electrodes, I picked her up and placed her on the bed. Tony unlocked the breaks on the machines reading her vital signs and brain activity so he could roll them alongside her as they rapidly moved towards the rooms exit.

Steve, Wanda and I followed the two men and they began asking questions and trying to get explanations.

“Wanda, was there anything malicious happening in her head?” Steve asked.

“No,” Wanda replied with a shake of her head. “She showed them a field and an ice cream shop from one of your dreams. She was just trying to explain everything as best she could but there was a lot of pain there. It felt like she was being ripped in two. Her consciousness was almost splitting in half while trying to keep hold of Bucky and Clint’s minds.”

Wanda’s answer explained why Y/N had seemed like something was hurting her. An edge of guilt started to fill me as I realized I had made her do this task she’d never tried before.

“Bucky and Clint’s vitals were perfect until the very end of it except for that one little spike Bucky had in the middle,” Bruce explained when they reached the elevator that would take them to the med bay.

“You see a stripper from the 40s while you were there, Manchurian Candidate?” Tony asked, sarcastic even while they were rushing someone to emergency care.

“She brought us to an ice cream shop Steve and I went to all the time. It must have spiked my heart rate,” I answered absent mindedly as I watched the floor numbers tick down.

When the door opened, doctors were waiting and ready for us. They grabbed the gurney and rushed Y/N into an exam room. I tried to follow, but Steve’s arm blocked me.

“We need to finish debriefing and the doctors need space to work,” he commanded, but I could see there was a bit of guilt in his eyes too. I watched through the glass and the doctors begin doing diagnostic exams as Y/N just laid there, unmoving.

Wanda and Steve were still going over what Wanda had found in her mind while Tony scrolled through a tablet someone had brought him.

“I went deeper into her mind while I was in there and I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She lives a very normal life and unless she has some higher power to hide memories, there is nothing nefarious about her.” Steve nodded at Wanda’s explanation and was about to respond before Tony interjected.

“I had Friday run a background check on her and she’s literally so normal she could be an extra in a movie. Both parents still alive, one brother, a cat at home in her Brooklyn apartment. She works, well worked, for a marketing agency. Her boss fired her for not coming in yesterday so he seems like a genuine asshole. Her work is actually pretty good. Seems like she does the design work and marketing plans on her own. Oh, and she creates slogans and jingles too-“

Tony!” Steve interjected as Tony began rambling about Y/N’s job. “Are there any red flags at all?”

“No. Not a single one. Her file is completely clean. Not so clean that it’s suspicious, but clean enough where her worst offense is a parking ticket.”

The room fell quiet as everyone considered the information they learned within the last ten minutes. Not only did Y/N not work for one of our enemies like Hydra, but she lived a normal life with a normal family and probably normal friends. We had swooped in and interrupted that to the point of her being fired and who knows what else. Steve spoke first.

“Sam went and searched her apartment. There was nothing suspicious there, but he did grab the cat and bring it back here. Even if there was something going on with Y/N, there was no reason for the cat to starve.”

We all nodded, remaining quiet again. Each of us alone with our own thoughts.

“So, what we’ve all just established here is that we abducted, somewhat tortured, and potentially seriously harmed an innocent woman.” Tony said.

“Yes,” Steve whispered with a small nod.

“Then what do we do now?” Tony questioned.

Tag list (Please message me if you would like to be added to it):

@paradisiacalsparks @cals-cigarette @searchingforbucky @mavelfanatic @some-person-somewhere @marvel-th @unfortunately-im-awake @jessicakimba @fandom-addict-aesthetics @simplysaying @spnsquirrel @bxrnsfeyson @magnolialikes @buckyinantarctica @fluffymadamina @willowtree42095 @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @pieofawkwardness @mirajanestrauss987 @nerdypisces160 @in-avengers-we-trust @lilo-1398

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withthekeyisking-writer · 4 years

Note

What are your comfort fics? Like, the ones you read again and again

I love the idea of calling them “comfort fics” :)

And yes, I do! I’m assuming this ask is wishing for me to list (see: recommend) the fics and not just tell you that yes I have them lol, which I’m happy to do! May they bring you as much joy as they bring me. Gonna leave out the PWPs though XD

Usually for recs I just do a small description of them in my own words, but for these I’m gonna add a bit of why I love them since these are really the fics that stick for me lol.

1) Nay, I Can’t Resist Thee by Gement. In the words of the author: “The one where a total stranger asks Batman to hit him in the face and, against all odds, this is an effective meet-cute strategy. It spirals out from there. Way, way out. (Come on in, the water's fluffy-kinky-queer.)”

So I’m not usually one for fics centered around an OC, they can go wrong in so many areas, and the only reason I clicked on this fic to begin with was the Superbat tag lol. But the instant I started reading this I fell so in love with the main character (Zach) and all the other OCs you meet along the way. It is a sweet, kinky, heart-warming fic, and I am literally rereading it right now (open in another tab) because I never get tired of it.

2) Through the Glass by dentalfloss. A fic in which Clint Barton is manipulated by a less-than-moral SHIELD agent into joining the organization. Literally unable to ignore a direct order from any superior agents, Clint’s career and life are very different than if he’d chosen to be there of his own free will.

Lookie here, my DC dudes, this harkens back to the days when all I wrote and read was Clint Barton. Gotta do that again sometime. So this fic is just such an interesting story, a slow build and all of Clint’s emotions towards being forced into this situation and how he grows with it and tries to work around it and then how the Avengers and Coulson get involved--it’s just so captivating.

3) What a Racket by meaninglessblah, and its sequel These Walls Have Ears, But They Won’t Talk. In which Jason is a (not quite clean) cop and Dick is a mob boss, and Slade is a (actually clean) cop who unfortunately gets caught by their bullshit.

These are really fun and sexy. I love the way blah characterizes Jason and Dick in this world, it makes me smile. And Slade’s entire POV in the second part is golden.

4) Different Kinds of Value by pentapus and Skalidra. In a space au, mercenary Slade wants to buy a pretty slave to distract his target. He ends up buying Dick, who is very much not a regular slave, and has a few tricks up his sleeve.

This is just such a fucking cool fic. Like you know those fics that just have you vibing? That’s this. The worldbuilding is super awesome, Slade’s POV is very interesting, and BAMF Dick is always a blast to read. There’s one scene in particular that I reread all the time because it’s just killer.

5) Lies by greyheart. The Avengers witness Clint Barton be killed, but fourteen months later they realize their mistake--he was captured and tortured instead, and now he’s really, really not on their side.

This fic is badass. The story is compelling, the emotions incredibly raw, and reading a Clint who is so angry and betrayed and hurt is really fascinating. I love reading his interactions with the other Avengers so much, and nothing ever feels rushed or forced. Warning for the fact that this is incomplete.

6) come around again (only want to say goodbye) by hito. A Hannibal (tv show) fic that takes place in a world where Hannibal is incarcerated and Will still works for the FBI, and occasionally Hannibal breaks out to bring Will soup or visit him in the hospital.

It’s sweet and fucked up and definitely a little cracky, and somehow completely fits the entire vibe of the tv show and the dynamic between Will and Hannibal. Also just very fun to read Jack’s head explode over and over again.

7) Anti-Social by Unpretty. A batfam story surrounded mainly around Tim and Bruce, told through various social media platforms.

I really don’t think I even have to explain this one. I literally laugh out loud reading this fic. If I’m having a seriously bad day, this is where I come. Do yourself a favor and read it.

8) Make an Ass of U and Me by Huntress79 and Sevidri. Takes place in the DC movie universe. A story in which Clark meets Dick without knowing he’s Bruce’s son, and makes a few wild assumptions that get in the way of any budding relationship Clark might be wanting to have.

This fic is incredibly sweet and soft. The pining is adorable, and I really love this outside look at Dick and what a reconnection between him and Bruce might look like in this universe.

9) From the Ashes by pikachumaniac. Skyfall (James Bond) au where Q (not me ;)) was one of the agents M got in exchange for Silva when she gave him up to the Chinese. Silva, when he returns to cause havoc, has his target set on Q as well as M.

A gripping, fascinating, dark story that feels incredibly in character for everyone involved. I’ve always thought Silva was a fascinating (and obviously batshit insane) character, and this fic really shoots the moon with that. Very good.

10) What Goes Around by KouriArashi. Teen Wolf fic where after the Hale fire Kate also kills Sherriff Stilinski, and Stiles goes off with Peter to hunt the hunters who kill without discrimination.

I really love this AU. Stiles and Peter are a fantastic pair, and watching tiny Stiles turn into a BAMF (with magic!) is super awesome. There’s also some Sterek if y’all are into that, and a really great father-son bond between Stiles and Peter. Totally worth it for this line: “I lost one dad to these assholes. I’m not losing another.”

11) You Can Leave Your Hat On by TheResurrectionist. Bruce Wayne gets kidnapped a couple times and stripped to his underwear, and the press have a field day, Clark Kent from the Daily Planet in particular.

It’s kind of funny that Superbat isn’t one of my main ships and yet there are three Superbat fics on this list (counting #1, which isn’t focused on Superbat but has the ship in it). Maybe it’s because they have so much potential for pure fluff, and that really does fit the “comfort” aspect of this list. Anyway, this fic is one that just makes me smile.

12) A Bat and Some Authority by Arsenic. A Dick/Midnighter/Apollo series in which poly discussions are had and relationships are built.

So fucking sweet and touching and sexy. It makes my heart warm to read. I push this series onto everyone I can because everyone should read it.

13) Silhouette by mariana_oconnor. Bucky and Steve are agents of SHIELD, and Clint and Natasha are on the other side of the law. Somehow, this doesn’t stop Bucky and Clint from falling in love.

Talk about a blast of a fic. This story is so enticing and exciting and sweet. Seeing stuff from both Bucky’s POV and Clint’s really adds to the fun of everything, seeing how they keep missing each other and the half-things they know about each other and the way Steve and Natasha react to the budding crushes--just so much fun.

I hope y’all enjoy these fics as much as I have! <3

#anon ask #ask #fic rec #comfort fics

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shieldwinter · 4 years

Text

Of Green and Grey [Preview]

Here’s the preview for my new fic! Inspired mostly by Fallout 4 (because I’m most familiar with it over the other Fallout games)

Synopsis: Steve was recovered from the arctic in 2040 due to melting icecaps, but instead of defrosting him, the United States government decided to store him in a cryogenic state until desperate times would call for the activation of Captain America. This time would never come, as the world entered the last World War in 2077, and the world was ravished by nuclear fallout. Over two hundred years later, Nick Fury and his group of ragtag defenders find Steve in cryogenic sleep, and release him from his icy slumber. The United States is no more, but with the rise of an insidious scientific group known as Hydra, Captain America may be needed more than ever.

Enter Hydra Courser B1-07, a third generation Synth, created to be their number one agent. He is tasked to infiltrate, and take down these so called Defenders, Avengers, and meets his match in Captain America; both mentally and physically. The peak of technological innovation, meets the peak of human perfection. What can become of them?

He was cold. He was numb. Moving his fingers proved to be difficult. They were stiff, his bones feeling brittle, as he attempted to curl them into a fist. His eyelids were another challenge, darkness clouding his vision as Steve fought to open them. They felt glued together, frosted over with a biting chill. Was he breathing? He couldn’t tell. Every breath he tried to force in burned, like he was shoved down face first into a snowdrift, forced to struggle in oxygen.

Where was he? The last thing Steve remembered was the Valkyrie, the fight with Johann Schmidt, speaking to Peggy and putting the plane into the water. He remembered the feeling of rushing arctic water, filling the plane and sinking her down, down, into the depths of the ocean. He remembered accepting his fate, knowing people were safe because of his sacrifice, and that Steve could die relieved, could die a hero.

He didn’t feel dead, however. He felt like he was struggling to wake up, to fight against the cold that consumed him. Steve felt like he was slowly getting warmer, his body regaining some function as more time passed. He sucked in his first breath that didn’t hurt, but it resulted in a gasping cough, his lungs fighting the chilled air. “Oh my god, Nick, he’s alive!” He heard, the voice sounding like it was underwater, and Steve lifted his head to the best of his abilities, finding frosted glass obscuring his vision. So he was alive, then? This wasn’t some bizarre afterlife that was defrosting him from the arctic before opening it’s gates. A buzzer sounded, then a mechanical voice blared from somewhere in the distance, and slowly the frosted glass left his eyeline, lifting and lifting to reveal a man with a shock of blond hair, wide blue eyes peering at Steve as if he was some kind of anomaly.

“Who..?” Steve tried, but with the rush of warm air flooding the chamber he was in, his iced over clothing began cracking away, his only anchor to keep him upright, and he began to tumble over. “Wow, wow, wow!” Shouted the man, and suddenly too warm hands landed on him, preventing Steve from smacking into the ground. “Shit, dude, you’re like ice. You alright?”

Steve blinked, and blinked again, his vision swimming. He tried to focus on his surroundings, but everything was so grey, so metal. “Who..? Where am I?” Steve tried again, his voice coming out wrong, scratchy. The man held him up, shifting his grip to straighten Steve on his own two feet, and he stepped back to arm’s length. He looked him over with concerned, and curious eyes. “Name’s Clint, and we’re in some fucked up military facility.” The man, Clint, offered a smile with his words, and Steve wondered if it was supposed to reassure him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed movement, and turned his head to see a dark skinned man, with an ominous eyepatch over one eye, and a red-haired woman who seemed to have a permanent frown, evident by the down turned smile lines on her face. The man with the eyepatch stepped forward, and Steve took note of the confident way he walked, accentuated with the long trench coat he wore. “I’m Nick Fury, and this here is Natasha,” he made a motion to the woman, still standing behind him. She hadn’t bothered moving a muscle. “Now that our introductions are out of the way, who are you?” Nick asked, his tone commanding. It reminded Steve of Colonel Phillips, a man who asked questions expecting immediate answers.

Steve, feeling sure of holding his own weight now, shrugged off Clint’s hands before taking a step back and rising to his full height, assuming parade rest. Clint backed off, understanding that Steve didn’t need the support. His clothes felt wet, the longer he stood there, body warming to the temperature in the facility, and thanks to the serum that coursed through his veins. “My name is Captain Steve Rogers, sir. United States Army,” he informed, voice finding that happy medium between his normal timbre and the tone he used with the Commandos.

There was a snort of a laugh, and Steve’s attention flew to the woman, Natasha, who hadn’t made a move or a single sound since he fell out of the chamber. Now, she looked amused, whereas Nick had an eyebrow raised. It was like they found what Steve had said odd, out of place, and he couldn’t wrap his head around why. Sure, he had just been defrosted right in front of them, but that didn’t seem to faze them much aside from Clint’s comment of him being alive, and feeling like ice. Yet his military introduction stifled a laugh out of Natasha.

It was Clint who spoke first. He seemed to be the more hospitable of the three, and the one to show the most emotion. “You’re pre-war?” He asked, sounding awed, but his words caused Steve to blink, dumbfounded. Pre-war? What did that even mean?

He voiced as much, falling from his parade rest to lean back on his heels. “What does that mean?” “Y’know, from before the Great War?” Clint elaborated, but it only led to Steve feeling more confused. “Son, the Great War happened before my time,” he tried to explain, glancing from Clint, to Natasha - who still looked amused - to Nick, who just looked like he sucked on something sour. “I was just a few months old when the Treaty of Versailles was signed.”

Now, it was everyone but Steve’s turn to look confused. What the hell was going on? “The Treaty of Versailles?” He spoke again, tone questioning, “the ending of World War One?”

“Oh shit,” Natasha said, the amusement completely gone from her face, replaced by horror. Nick glanced back at her, before his attention went directly to Steve. He looked disbelieving, angry almost. “Are you trying to tell me you were alive for the first World Wars?” Nick asked, voice booming. If Steve wasn’t used to dealing with military superiors, he would have flinched back. He held firm, however, unsure what Nick was about to get at. “Yeah. Steven Grant Rogers, born July Fourth, Nineteen-Eighteen. I fought and served in World War Two, on the Western front,” he explained, and at the stares he got, a creeping chill shuddered up his spine, and it wasn’t from the chamber. It wasn’t from the arctic. This was different, this was terror. “What year is it?” and he was met with silence, the trio looking back and forth to each other. Steve felt that terror spike, his heart in his throat. He took one step towards Nick Fury, fists clenching at his sides, and he didn’t miss the way Natasha’s hand went to a gun at her hip that Steve failed to notice. “What year is it?” He repeated, voice demanding.

“It’s Twenty-Two Eighty-Seven, Captain Rogers. The United States fell in Twenty Seventy-Seven. Seems you’ve been asleep for over three-hundred years.”

Steve felt off-kilter. He felt like the ground was slipping away from him. This was so much worse than the water of the arctic. This was so much worse than going through with the serum. Not only was the war over, but the United States was gone. Everything he fought, and died for, was gone. His friends weren’t just dead, and buried, they were ash. Were their headstones even still standing? How long was too long without proper maintenance to a cemetery? And God above, Peggy. He wouldn’t get to see her again. He wouldn’t get to know if she went, and had a family. Three-hundred years was a length of time he couldn’t even wrap his brain around. Everything was gone. He felt his knees hit the ground first, and Steve thought he heard Clint’s shout of surprise, but darkness began to consume him again, only this time Steve craved the biting chill, but was only greeted by smooth metal.

#stucky #stevebucky #stucky fic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #fallout

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clintashaotp · 4 years

Text

Author’s note/summary: I’m pretty predictable at this point. Natasha!whump, Clintasha, team fic. April challenge day 13, I hope you all are doing okay in quarantine :)

1,686 Words

Fighter

The Avengers aren’t afraid of death. All of them have experienced life-threatening injuries in the past, especially the two assassins. All of them have woken up in hospitals they don’t recognize, or had surgeries, or been dragged a mile and a half to a medical jet. But bleeding out in the middle of a jungle is a new one.

The mission was supposed to be simple. Get to the terrorist’s bunker in the center of the jungle. Tony and Steve were supposed to break down the gate while Clint sniped out guards from above. Banner flew the jet, and Thor helped keep the gates open while Natasha snuck inside and retrieved the biochemical weapon that had been stolen from a SHIELD lab. But things always go wrong.

“Tasha. Natasha, can you hear me?” Clint whispers to the half-conscious woman in his lap. She stirs slightly, and Bruce bites his lip in concern.

“We don’t have any supplies, Clint, and they blew up the jet.” Bruce runs a hand through his hair.

“So what can we do?” Steve asks worriedly. “She’s been stabbed at least five times, for Christ’s sakes, and what about infection?”

“I don’t know!” Bruce repeats. “We….we need to find shelter. Somewhere for us to stay until SHIELD picks up the distress signal.”

“I can’t fly,” Tony shakes his head, gesturing at his suit. “They used an EMP during the fight and fried all my internal wiring. I doubt I could get above the treeline, not to mention all the way to the base.”

“Friends, I can fly ahead,” Thor offers, and they all turn to him. “I will go to the SHIELD facility that we came from and get some medical evac to come here, for Lady Natasha.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees in his captain’s voice. “We’ll look after Natasha for a while.”

Thor swings his hammer, then launches into the sky. The clouds darken, but when they don’t clear immediately, the fear of rain begins to set in.

“We need a shelter,” Cap says quickly, and Tony salutes.

“On it. Doctor, care to help?” he gestures to Bruce, who nods in agreement.

“Tasha. Nat.” Clint murmurs again. “Clint?” she mumbles, and his eyes widen. “Ah--” she winces. “Okay. What happened?”

“You’re okay. You got a few knives stuck in you, but we pulled them out. You’ll be okay.”

“Jesus.” she struggles to sit up, and when Clint tries to push her down again, she glares at him. “Clint, I can sit up on my own.”

When she gets into a sitting position, she sways slightly, and Clint helps her lean back against him to help her remain upright.

“We don’t have any medical supplies, the terrorists hit the jet,” Clint says, worriedly, and Natasha just hums in response. “On a scale of one to ten--”

“Six,” Natasha responds, lips tight, words clipped.

“Yeah, it doesn’t look like a six--” Clint tries, but she cuts him off.

“It’s a six, Barton. I’m fine. Okay?” he knows better to argue when she uses his last name, so he just lets her relax against his shoulder.

“Hey, Master Assassins, we got a shelter, if you want to come.” Tony waves them over to a makeshift hut, where the scientists have taken the shell of the jet and covered the holes with branches and leaves. “It’s not perfect, but it’ll keep us dry if it rains.”

“It’s fine.” Clint nods, and, to Natasha’s great protest, he scoops her into his arms.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she growls at him, and he looks at her apologetically.

“Nat, I don’t want you to hurt yourself more.”

“Clint,” she says, her voice tight. “Let me go.”

“No, Nat, I can’t, you need to--”

“I’m going to be sick,” she says quickly, and he sets her down gently on the ground, where she turns her head and vomits onto the ground. “Ah.” she hisses, grabbing her temple.

“Nat?” Clint asks nervously, and she waves him away.

“Just...give me a second,” she mutters, hands on her head. “Okay. Okay, I’m good.”

Clint looks up to see Tony, Bruce and Cap watching from the entrance to the shelter, concern reflected heavily in his gaze.

“I’m going to carry you to the entrance now, okay?” he says cautiously, and she nods, not opening her eyes.

He picks her up again carefully and carries her to the seats that Tony and Bruce managed to pull out of the wreckage, which has been fashioned into a makeshift bed. She hisses when he sets her down, her posture rigid and stiff, and he settles onto the floor next to her, ready for a long night.

After a quick sweep of the plane shell, they soon establish that no food or water is nearby. Thor should have come back half an hour ago, and they have no idea how long it will take to get Natasha to a medical facility.

It’s almost three hours before fever sets in. Her health has declined steadily, and as the team chatters aimlessly, awaiting extraction, her face has steadily paled, except for flushed patches on her cheeks.

“Tasha?” Clint whispers softly to her, as to not alert the team, but she shakes her head.

She shivers when he puts a hand on her arm, and he gazes at her, concern rushing through his mind.

He sets his hand against her forehead, only to withdraw it quickly.

“Tash,” he gasps, “you’re burning up.”

“Sorry?” she says, her voice hoarse, her eyes not quite focusing on his face.

“Bruce,” he says sharply and turns to see the other members staring at him. “It’s bad.”

“I’m fine--” Natasha tries, but Bruce steps forward, ignoring her protests.

“Natasha,” he says calmly, “how do you feel?”

“Fine,” she murmurs, but it lacks conviction, and when Bruce checks her temperature, his eyebrows contract with worry.

“Alright. Okay, the infection must be setting in on your wounds, there’s even a chance there was poison on one of the blades,” he mutters, frowning. “But we don’t have any med supplies, god--”

“I can hold out until Thor comes back,” she says firmly. “Really.” her tone leaves little room for protest, but when Clint leans against her, he feels her trembling against him.

“Hey, Natasha, JARVIS says your body temperatures at 101 and climbing…” Tony trails off, an expression of worry on his face.

“I’ll be okay,” she says, but her voice is weak, and she leans back against Clint, her limbs still shaking.

They sit there in silence. Clint monitors her closer after that, checking her eyes, her forehead, feeling her pulse. He knows that no matter the results, there’s nothing they can do, but he still feels the sense of dread in the pit of his stomach grow each time he feels her forehead get hotter and hotter.

It is almost an hour before the conversation starts again, but it’s Natasha who tries to speak.

“Clint,” she whispers softly, and he immediately bends down to listen. “I….I’m not feeling great.”

“Yeah, Nat, I know,” he mutters, guilt pounding through his chest. “From one to ten--”

“I’m getting a little closer to an eight now,” she says softly, and he can tell she’s having trouble focusing.

“Okay. Nat, I’m really sorry, all we can do is wait.”

“I know.” she nods. “Yeah.”

“Do you want to hold my hand?” he knows it’s an awkward question, but he knows she can get scared when blood loss sets in.

“Sure,” she mutters and laces their fingers together. “Ah.” she winces slightly.

“What’s wrong?” Clint frowns, eyebrows knitting together. Her blood loss makes her face pale, and her movements are slow. He can see her hand trembling when she grabs her temple.

“I don’t know. Everything hurts. My whole body hurts.”

“I’m really sorry, Na, what can I do?.”

“I’m feeling kind of dizzy--” she whispers, and Clint looks down at her to see her eyes lose focus completely.

Her eyes flutter closed and she collapses against him. He inhales sharply with worry and the other team members look up at him.

“What happened?” Steve asks, approaching.

“I think she passed out,” Clint says softly, placing a hand against her forehead. “Jesus.”

“103 degrees,” Tony winces. “And there’s nothing we can do?”

“Nothing.” Bruce shakes his head, and Steve slams his fists onto the floor. “We don’t have water to clean them, and we shouldn’t use rainwater. We’re in a polluted area, it’s likely that it would worsen the infection.”

“We could at least try,” Clint bites his lip, and Bruce sighs. “I mean, we’re in a jungle, for christ’s sake, how polluted can it be?”

“We’re right next to a weapons manufacturing facility,” Bruce starts, but at Clint’s look, he sighs and pulls off his jacket, tearing off a strip and walking outside to let the rainwater dampen the cloth.

“Jesus, she’s dying, and there’s nothing we can do.” the soldier hisses, and Clint raises an eyebrow, surprised by the outburst.

“She’ll be okay.” he tries to comfort them. “She’s a fighter. She’s been through worse.”

“We haven’t,” Tony shakes his head, “Not with her.”

They lapse back into silence. Natasha’s unconscious form rests against Clint, and he strokes her hair away from her forehead carefully. Bruce hands him the wet cloth and Clint examines her carefully, pressing the cloth gently to the gash along her ribcage, which is still bleeding sluggishly. She doesn’t even flinch.

“She’ll be okay,” he repeats, though it's more for him than any of them, he knows that.

She looks so small in his arms, her brow furrowed, her eyes shut tightly. He holds her close. It’s okay.

And she is. When she wakes up in the hospital two days later, Clint is sound asleep in a chair next to her bed. Steve, Tony, Bruce, and Thor are talking softly in the corner, and when they notice that she’s awake, they crowd around her bed.

Amidst the chatter, Natasha makes eye contact with a sleepy Clint, and she smiles at him reassuringly. She’s a fighter. She’s okay.

#clint barton #natasha romanoff #tony #steve #bruce #thor #avengers team #teamfic #clintasha #clintashaotp writes #clintashaotp fanfic #clintashaotp april challenge #april challenge #april challenge day 13

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unfolded73 · 4 years

Text

My Heartbeat Shows the Fear (3/4) - schitt’s creek ff

Summary: A canon divergent story: Patrick gets into a car accident and it brings the Brewers to town sooner.

Notes: This fic will be posted in 4 chapters, every other day. There is some description of injuries, but nothing too graphic or life-threatening.

The title is from “Overkill” by Colin Hay, which thanks to the show Scrubs puts me in mind of hospitals.

Thank you to Amanita_Fierce for putting so much time and thought into betaing this fic - you made it so, so much better. And thanks also to @high-seas-swan for some helpful suggestions, particularly on that one scene that I tore apart and rewrote.

Rated Teen, this chapter 4390 words. (ao3)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

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

Chapter 3

“Well, you look like shit,” Stevie said as she and David walked into his hospital room Wednesday morning.

“Thanks,” Patrick said as David took advantage of his parents’ absence to lean over and kiss him.

“Did you sleep okay?” David asked, pulling up a chair to sit close. Patrick reached for David’s hand, taking it and squeezing it.

“Not really.” He felt terrible, but it was hard to tell if that was because of the constant aching pain coming from his arm and torso.

“So Alexis and Ted were able to get onto the lot where your car was towed and they found your phone,” David said, pulling a phone with a cracked screen out of his pocket. “We’ll have to plug it in to see if it still works,” he said as he grabbed Patrick’s charger out of the duffel bag and plugged the phone in.

“What about the merchandise?” Patrick asked.

David grimaced. “There were a lot of broken bottles. They saved what they could.”

“Let the vendors know that we’ll pay them for the lost merchandise. It should be covered by our insurance,” Patrick said, shifting his body and wincing at the pain in his side. “We’ll have to file a claim.”

“Okay, but I don’t want you to worry about that right now,” David said, leaning over and nuzzling against Patrick’s cheek. It felt like David was trying to absorb as much physical affection as he could while he had the opportunity.

“So what did your arm look like before, was it really gross?” asked Stevie from her spot leaning against the wall.

“Don’t answer that,” David warned. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

“It’s a little better. And I’ve managed to walk to the bathroom to pee without passing out, so that’s a big accomplishment.”

David laughed. “I’m so proud.” He let go of Patrick’s hand and stroked up and down his right arm affectionately.

“I assume my parents got settled in okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Stevie said, “we were going to talk about the lube—”

“No, we weren’t,” David said quickly, then in explanation to Patrick, he added, “Stevie went over and scrubbed the apartment of evidence of our relationship yesterday before your parents got there.”

Patrick’s stomach sank. Now his cowardice had not only hurt David, but had forced their friends to sneak around like they were in a farce. “Thanks, Stevie.”

“And I told my family not to say anything if they ran into your parents in town. Although they can’t really be relied on at all not to open their big mouths, so really it’s a bit of a crap shoot. But I told your parents that the food at the café was terrible, which wasn’t even a lie, so hopefully they won’t go there.”

Patrick imagined Johnny Rose stumbling through a conversation with his parents and revealing the nature of David and Patrick’s relationship. It was a terrifying idea, although he had to admit that a tiny part of him wanted it to happen. At least it would save him from having to break the news.

He really needed to tell his parents before this went on any longer.

“I’ll tell my parents when they get here this morning,” Patrick blurted out.

David grimaced. “You don’t have to rush, honey,” he said, still stroking his arm.

“No, David, this isn’t fair to you. I—”

“Good morning!” And there his parents were, walking into the room. David flinched back, his hand dropping from Patrick’s arm.

“We didn’t know you’d have visitors already so early,” Marcy said warmly, looking back and forth between David and Stevie.

“Yeah, we thought we’d stop in before I have to open the store,” David said as if a visit to the hospital didn’t require almost an hour and a half of driving.

“Should I point out that you’re already late opening the store?” Patrick gave him a teasing smirk.

“Everyone in town has heard about your car accident; I’m sure they’ll be forgiving,” David said.

“It’s good to see you again, Stevie,” Clint said, and Stevie gave him an awkward little wave.

“You guys met already?” Patrick asked.

“Yes, we met at your wonderful store, dear,” Marcy said.

“I gave your parents a quick tour of the store yesterday afternoon before they drove over to Brebner’s. I told them our fresh vegetables were much better,” David added.

“You were right,” Clint said.

It all felt like it was spinning out of his control, if it ever had been in his control — while Patrick lay helpless in his hospital bed, David and Stevie were spending time with his parents. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to have told them about his relationship with David, and they were supposed to see the truth of his life in Schitt’s Creek. He was supposed to have given them a tour of the store. They were supposed to see how settled and happy he was in the town with the people that knew him as half of ‘David and Patrick.’ Instead they were getting this incomplete, false version of him.

“David, I need to get back to the motel soon,” Stevie said, and David stood up. Patrick felt an urge to grab for his hand, to stop him from leaving. Instead he lay there, paralyzed by doubt.

A nurse came in then. “Goodness, you’re very popular this morning, Patrick,” she said, picking up his chart and making some notes from the screens behind his head.

“I’ll meet you in the lobby?” Stevie said to David, and then patted Patrick’s foot. “Feel better,” she said before disappearing from the room.

“You’re scheduled for blood work today, so I’m here to steal some blood,” said the nurse. Her name was Janice, Patrick remembered; she’d been on duty before. She pulled some tubes out of her pocket and lined them up on the table.

“Stevie seems nice,” Marcy said. ‘And she’s very pretty.”

“Marcy,” Clint said, a warning tone in his voice.

“What? I’m just saying.”

“No, you’re matchmaking,” Clint replied.

As she tightened the rubber band around his bicep and skillfully inserted the needle into his arm, Janice raised her eyebrows at Patrick, cut her eyes over to David, and then tilted her head almost imperceptibly toward Patrick’s parents. Her meaning was as clear as if she’d spoken out loud — they don’t know David is your boyfriend? Patrick shook his head as the first tube filled with blood. No, they don’t know. Janice nodded.

“I’m not matchmaking,” Marcy said. “But you can’t blame me for wanting to see Patrick happy in a relationship.” Patrick glanced at David, but David was studying his nails, his face carefully blank. Whether he was averting his gaze to avoid seeing blood or to avoid this conversation, Patrick wasn’t certain.

“Oh, don’t worry, Patrick’s having a torrid affair with most of the nurses on staff, the heartbreaker,” Janice said with a conspiratorial wink.

His parents laughed, and his mother dropped her line of inquiry. Thank you, Patrick mouthed to Janice, who smirked.

Once the four vacutainer tubes were filled, Janice checked his chart again. “Whoops, forgot to record your temperature.” She pulled out a thermometer and put it under Patrick’s tongue, waiting for the beep before reading the number.

“38.1,” she said, clucking her tongue. “You’re running a bit of a fever today, Patrick.”

“What does that mean?” David asked.

“Could be nothing — patients get unexplained fevers in hospitals all the time — but we want to rule out an infection stemming from his forearm fracture. I’ll page Dr. Barnes.” She patted Patrick’s hand and left the room.

His mother took Janice’s place, putting her hand on his forehead. “You do feel warm. Would you like me to get a wet cloth for your head?”

“No, Mom. I’m fine,” Patrick sighed as he shut his eyes. No wonder he was feeling so shitty.

“I’m sorry about before,” she said. “I know you told us that you weren’t seeing anyone, but I guess deep down I was hoping to meet a girlfriend. You’re such a catch, sweetheart.”

Patrick opened his eyes and met David’s. He could tell them now, but the fever was making him feel like he wanted to sleep for a thousand years. “There’s no girlfriend,” he said.

“Not in all the time you’ve lived here?” Marcy asked.

Patrick shook his head, still looking at David. He just needed to say it. I’m gay. There isn’t ever going to be a girlfriend. There’s David, who I think might be the love of my life.

He opened his mouth, and Dr. Barnes came through the door.

“Patrick, what’s this fever nonsense?” she chided jokingly. “Didn’t I teach you better than that?”

Chuckling weakly, Patrick tried to communicate to David with his eyes that he’d been on the verge of coming out, if only his doctor didn’t have the worst imaginable timing.

Dr. Barnes probed and prodded him, removing the splint from his arm long enough to unwrap the bandages and examine it. The movement was excruciating, but Patrick tried not to show the pain on his face in front of David and his parents. David was averting his eyes again anyway to avoid seeing Patrick’s injury.

“Still no sign of infection from the wound, so I think this is just a run-of-the-mill fever,” she said as she replaced the bandages and the splint. “But we can’t take any chances, so we’ll have to keep you at least one more night for observation.”

Patrick sighed in frustration. He really wanted to go home. He desperately wanted to be in his own bed being held by his boyfriend, even if having David moving around next to him in the bed would make his injuries more painful. He didn’t care.

“I know, it sucks. But infections are no joke.” The doctor made some notes on Patrick’s chart. “I’ll check in again toward the end of my shift, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, lying back on the pillows as she left.

“Your phone seems to be working,” David said, holding it up from where it was plugged in to show Patrick the screen. His voice sounded strangled. “I’ve gotta go. I can’t keep Stevie waiting any longer.” He reached out briefly, but then dropped his hand. “Maybe you can text me later?”

“Of course,” Patrick said, his own voice almost cracking with emotion.

“Bye,” David said, turning quickly and leaving the room.

His father was looking thoughtfully at him, and Patrick tried not to squirm under the scrutiny. “You’ve got a good friend there, Patrick.”

“Yeah, he’s… he’s the best,” Patrick said, drowsiness swamping out his ability to say anything more.

~*~

“He’s not going to tell them,” David said to the passenger window of Stevie’s car.

“David, give the guy a break — he’s clearly not feeling a hundred percent right now.”

He ignored Stevie’s very logical argument. “I mean, look at him. Look at his parents. I’ll never fit in with the wholesome, clean-cut vibe they have going on. Why would he want to tell his parents that he ended up with…” He gestured manically up and down at himself. “... this?”

Stevie cast a vicious side-eye in his direction. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” he blurted out in a high voice.

“David, he loves you. You know he loves you. Stop with this bullshit.”

He didn’t want to argue about it. Stevie wasn’t going to understand — she didn’t know what coming from a home that wasn’t dysfunctional was like anymore than he did. She didn’t understand that broken people like him didn’t have a place with families like that. Families where parents dropped everything and came rushing to their son’s aid, and not just because they thought he’d taken a prized crocodile bag.

He finally got the store open at ten-thirty, and a few people stopped by before lunch to inquire about Patrick. It was sweet, David thought, that people cared so much, but having to field their questions about Patrick’s health wasn’t helping his anxiety. By the afternoon, he was doing a fairly brisk business, which limited the amount of time he could spend spiraling about his relationship. Worrying that Patrick was realizing that if he was too ashamed to tell his parents that the two of them were dating, then their relationship was probably doomed.

By the time the Brewers themselves walked into the store just before closing, David was just about ready to jump out of his skin.

“Hi,” David said, and then immediately began to fret that he’d lost the ability to even say ‘hi’ like a normal person. “Is Patrick okay?”

“He is,” Marcy said. “They did some more tests and there’s no sign of infection, so he should be discharged tomorrow. They also went ahead and put a cast on his arm.”

David nodded, relieved. “Do you know how long you plan to stay in town? Do you have to get back home for work, or…?” He racked his brain, trying to remember what they did for a living. Clint did something in an office, he was pretty sure, and Marcy he couldn’t remember at all.

“We both had personal days to spare,” Clint said, “but I think we’ll head home on Sunday morning if Patrick doesn’t need more help.”

He has me, David wanted to shout, and he pressed his lips together to keep it in. “Do you need a place to stay for the remaining nights after Patrick is discharged? I can call Stevie and have her reserve a room at the motel.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s not a high-class establishment, but at least it’s close.” It would also put Patrick’s parents in close proximity to his own parents, which was risky, but he couldn’t think of a good excuse not to have them stay at the motel.

“Oh, that would be great, David. Thank you,” Marcy said.

“We were thinking,�� Clint said, “we’d like to take you to dinner tonight.”

David tried to limit his physical recoil to the suggestion of spending so much uninterrupted time with Patrick’s parents. “You don’t have to do that.” He wasn’t sure if he could keep up this charade for another minute, much less an entire meal without Patrick there as a buffer.

“Please, David?” Marcy was weaponizing her eyes — he could see that Patrick came by it honestly. “It’s the least we can do.”

He looked around for a good excuse not to have dinner with Patrick’s parents. “I have to close up the store.”

“We can pick you up whenever you’re done,” Clint reasoned. “I’m in the mood for pizza, and I spotted a place near the hospital. Do you know it?”

David nodded reluctantly. “Reginos. It’s surprisingly good.” It was where he and Patrick had gone for their second date.

“Great. What time will you be finished here?” Clint asked, in a way that indicated he wouldn’t be taking no for an answer.

David thought about it. He didn’t have Patrick to help, and he’d let most of the closing up tasks slide the night before. “Umm, six-thirty?”

Clint clapped his hands together. “We’ll be back at six-thirty to pick you up.” He seemed very pleased, so David tried to look pleased too. He suspected his smile wasn’t quite cutting it.

As soon as they left, he texted Patrick. He wasn’t sure if Patrick would be checking his phone, but he hoped. Help, your parents are taking me for pizza. No response came immediately, so David went to work cashing out the register drawer.

His phone didn’t ping until he’d finished with the bookkeeping and was starting to sweep the floor. David leaned the broom against the counter and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Patrick: I would kill for some pizza.

David: I’ll get you as many pizzas as you can stand when you’re home.

Patrick was typing for a while — David assumed he must be doing it with one thumb, poor thing.

Patrick: I miss you. Been thinking about you all day.

It wasn’t until he saw this text that David realized — ever since he left the hospital that morning, a part of his brain had been spooling out a scenario in which Patrick had decided to break up with him. Seeing that text made him weak with relief. He pressed the button to call Patrick.

“Hey,” Patrick said as soon as the call connected.

“Your typing was too slow. And I miss you too. But what the hell am I going to talk about during an entire meal with your parents?”

Patrick sighed heavily. “I’ve just made this worse for you. I was going to tell them this morning, but doctors and nurses kept coming in and out, and I felt like shit, and—”

“Honey, I told you. You don’t have to apologize.” David probed his feelings for the resentment he knew he’d be justified in feeling, but all he could find was sympathy. “I know this kind of thing is hard for you.”

“I keep wondering if you’re just holding back on being angry with me because I’m in the hospital,” Patrick said.

“I promise I’m not.” David took a deep breath. “I keep wondering if, faced with the idea of telling your parents about us, you’re realizing that I’m all wrong for you.”

“David. Nothing could be further from the truth. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They were silent for several seconds, basking in each other’s reassurances.

“Ask them to tell you stories about when I was little, that’ll keep them going for a while,” Patrick said. “Or talk about the store.”

“Okay, good ideas. Got any others?”

“I don’t know, tell them about the time you went parasailing with Anderson Cooper?” Patrick said with a laugh.

“Yeah, I’m not going to be doing that.”

“Will you be here in the morning when I get sprung from this place?”

“Won’t your parents think it’s weird, me being there?” David asked.

“I think I’ll ask them to meet us at the apartment. Can you pick me up? Just you?” His voice sounded small.

“I guess I’m going to be doing a lot of that until you can replace your car,” David responded with a smile that he hoped Patrick could hear.

Patrick groaned. “I hadn’t really even thought about that yet.”

“And you don’t need to,” David said, immediately regretting that he’d brought it up. “Just get some rest tonight and I’ll see you in the morning.”

~*~

Clint ran his fingers over the edge of the checkered tablecloth as the server put menus in front of them. “What’s good here, David?”

David’s eyes widened like he’d been asked a personal question rather than just what kind of pizza he liked. “Um, the meat lover is good. And the chicken pesto.” His lips slid to the side in a little half-smile. “Patrick likes the spicy barbecue chicken.”

Marcy wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like spicy pizza.”

“Yes, thank you,” David said. “Spicy food is fine, but that’s another genre of food from pizza. Spiciness destroys the flavor palette of a pizza; I’ve told him a million times.”

“I’m afraid he gets that from me, but I’ve resigned myself to the fact that there are certain foods I can’t get when I’m out with my wife,” Clint said, winking at Marcy.

“Or when you’re going to be sleeping next to me afterwards,” Marcy said, which made David laugh with surprise.

They ordered the meat lover pizza on David’s recommendation, and with that task completed, their conversation lulled. Clint tried not to be too blatant in his observation of David, this man who had gone into business with his son last year. This man who Patrick often ended up talking about during their phone calls when he ran out of other things to tell them about.

This man who, after this morning, Clint was convinced his son was in love with.

He didn’t think Marcy had noticed, and he’d decided not to bring it up to her in the car. He wanted to turn it over in his mind some more, determine if it had the weight of truth. But he’d seen the look on Patrick’s face when his eyes met David’s in that hospital room, and he was fairly certain he wasn’t wrong.

“So did Patrick really start playing hockey when he was four?” David asked suddenly. He grimaced almost like he was surprised the question had come out of his mouth.

Marcy launched into the story of the time she strapped their son into hockey gear and put him on the ice for his first lesson, and Clint watched the warmth grow in David’s eyes as he listened to the tale. It became clear during the conversation that David didn’t know anything about hockey, but he seemed interested nonetheless, asking follow-up questions about what Patrick had been like as a child until the pizza arrived, steaming and delicious.

They asked David about his own family as they ate. He hesitated at first in his responses, but he soon warmed to the topic. He talked about his father going into business with Stevie to save the motel, his mother serving on town council, and his sister starting her own business. It became clear that David was proud of what his family had accomplished in Schitt’s Creek.

“You’ve all done so much after such a terrible thing happened to you,” Marcy said.

“I think most people see what happened to us as karmic justice,” David said. “People love stories about rich people being knocked down a few pegs.”

“Well,” Marcy said thoughtfully, “I can’t pretend to know what your life was like before, but regardless, it’s unfair that you had everything stolen away. And it’s admirable, what your family has done for your town.”

David blushed, averting his eyes and wiping his hands with a napkin. “Thank you,” he said in a soft voice.

After dinner, they dropped David off at the motel before driving back to Patrick’s apartment. Marcy excused herself to the bathroom, and Clint pulled out his phone and called Patrick.

“Hey, Dad,” Patrick said when he answered, his voice sounding stronger than it had earlier in the day. “How was dinner?”

“It was good. Just checking to make sure they’re still planning to spring you in the morning.”

“Yeah, as far as I know.”

“What time should we be there to pick you up?” Clint asked.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. David’s going to pick me up tomorrow,” Patrick said.

“Doesn’t he have to open the store? It’s no problem for us to be there.”

“Nope,” Patrick said firmly. “We’ll meet you at the apartment.”

Clint smiled to himself. “You must be excited to get home.”

Patrick chuckled. “You have no idea. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dad. Love you.”

Marcy came out of the bathroom just as Clint was getting off the phone. “Patrick said David’s going to pick him up from the hospital tomorrow. He wants to meet us here.”

She frowned. “There’s no need for David to do that.”

“Well, Patrick wasn’t taking no for an answer.” He moved over to the window, shifting the curtain aside to look out on the nondescript lawn in the front of the apartment building. He remembered the last time Patrick broke up with Rachel, the night he came over to tell them he needed to move away and get a fresh start. “I keep going back to her by default but it’s never right. It’s not what I want.”

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” Marcy asked him.

He took a shaky breath, his eyes changing focus so that he mostly saw the reflection of the apartment in the window glass instead of the landscape outside. “Do you remember that boy, Mark? The captain of the baseball team when Patrick was in grade ten?”

“The catcher? Yes, I remember.”

“Do you remember how much Patrick used to talk about him? Walking us through every play at the plate he made?” They would ask Patrick how baseball practice had gone, and inevitably the story would turn to Mark — the way he played, or the funny things he said in the locker room.

“I mean, I guess so. Why?”

“He never talked about Rachel like that. Not even back then.”

“Clint, what are you talking about?”

He turned and faced his wife. “I said before that I thought David had unrequited feelings for Patrick, but I watched them at the hospital this morning. I watched Patrick. There’s nothing unrequited about it.”

Marcy frowned. “So you’re saying—”

“I’m saying if they aren’t a couple, then they’ve both got feelings for each other they aren’t talking about,” Clint said.

Confusion was evident on Marcy’s face. “But Patrick dated Rachel for years. And other girls.”

“I’ve been thinking about that a lot today,” Clint said with an unhappy sigh. He sat down on the sofa and put his elbows on his knees. “He was almost boxed into dating Rachel before he’d finished going through puberty. They were best friends for practically their whole lives. Everyone expected them to start dating when they got old enough, us included. And Patrick has always been such a people-pleaser; he did what was expected of him from the time he was little.”

He stood up again and paced across the floor, unable to sit still. “And, look, he could be… bisexual. Or some other orientation that I don’t know the name of. I don’t know. I just saw the look on that boy’s face this morning when he looked at David. And I don’t think I ever saw him look at Rachel that way.”

“So if that’s true, why hasn’t he told us? Why are they keeping it a secret?”

Clint ran his hands over his face. “I don’t know.”

“We’ve never given Patrick any reason to think we wouldn’t accept him, have we?”

“Other than to encourage him to get back together with Rachel when they were struggling?”

Marcy’s face fell. “And then I just assumed … with Stevie earlier, and other girls… I defaulted to the idea of him being straight. It never occurred to me not to.”

Clint walked over and took her hand. “Me either. So, we start making up for it now. Yeah?”

She wiped away a stray tear. “Yeah.”

Chapter 4

#schitt's creek #schitt's creek ff #schitt's creek fic #david x patrick #david x patrick ff #david x patrick fic #my fic

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mycupoffanfiction · 5 years

Text

Meet Me On The Lifeboat

Pietro x Reader

Summary: The Reader is a childhood friend of the twins and when they accept the experiments, the Reader objects to the idea and loses contact with them. Years later, when Novi Grad is thrown into battle, Pietro is reunited with the Reader, but not quite in the way he wanted to be.

Warnings: some mild battle violence, talk of mild injury, angst, lots of fluff I promise 💖

Word count: Approx 1500

Masterlist

Pietro Week Masterlist

A/N: Hi loves, this fic is requested by @virtualmemmecollector I hope you enjoy it! I really like the way this turned out, though it took a little tweaking to get it right in the end, but I hope it’s what you were looking for!

Your heart beat fast as you sprinted, ears ringing from the explosion behind you, the only sounds you could hear in your temporary deafened state was your own heart hammering against your chest and your panicked breaths.

Looking over your shoulder as you came to the end of the street, still running full speed, you saw one of Ultron’s sentries coming towards you and you panicked further, pushing yourself to run faster. As you looked ahead, you had less than a second to react when you hit something – hard.

With a yelp, you tumbled to the ground and rolled along the rubble, letting out a few coughs when you breathed in the dust your landing had kicked up. “Fuck.” You held you side, realising you must have hit some jagged debris on your way down and you pulled your hand back from your side to see a bit of blood pooling under your t-shirt, though it didn’t look too serious.

“Prinţesă?” Pietro saw you as he got to his feet, unsure whether he was seeing things or if it was really you. He’d crashed into you, thankfully not at his full speed but his eyes widened with shock and fear when he saw your blood. “Prinţesă mea.” He repeated, speaking up a bit louder, the sentry bot coming faster towards you and you weren’t responding. He couldn’t even be completely sure it was you, but it looked an awful lot like you.

Glancing to see the sentry closer now, getting louder with each second as it got closer, preparing itself to attack you both, Pietro sped to you and took you in his arms, running off with you towards the evacuation point.

Setting you down carefully, the ringing in your ears subsiding after being carried at such a high speed they began to pop in and out again from the pressure. Looking up at the man with his arms around you, you froze, lips parted as you took him in.

“Pietro?” You squeaked out. “Holy- what happened to- how did you-.” You cut yourself off several times, captivated by the man in front of you, fingers coming up to touch his silvered hair. The last time you had seen him was months ago, probably even longer than that come to think of it. You’d grown up as a close friend to the twins, the did everything together and you had always had feelings for Pietro. However, you inevitably got left behind when the twins agreed to do the experiments and you had turned down the offer, subsequently falling out of contact with your best friends.

“Prinţesă, I promise I will explain everything later.” He sighed before looking over his shoulder anxiously. “I must go.” Pietro looked down at you sadly, he didn’t want to leave you, he wanted to hold you and tell you all the things that had been on his mind for years, but he had a job to do and that involved keeping you safe.

“Piet wait.” You urged, gripping his arm tightly, the muscle was new, but god did it feel good. Pietro stayed a moment longer and you looked up into his eyes before reaching up on your toes, pressing your lips against his in a quick, rushed kiss before you both pulled away. Receiving a smirk from Pietro, you felt your heart flutter instead of the possible shame of kissing your best friend. “We will pick this up later, Prinţesă, I promise.” He held you tight, pulling you against his chest and squeezing you in a firm, but loving embrace.

“Get to the evac.” He pointed over your shoulder. “Meet me on the lifeboat, we’ll get out of here together, you and I. I won’t leave you this time Prinţesă, I promise.” He reassured you, the sincerity of his words telling you he really meant it. You nodded, backing away from him and sharing one last look, a sad half smile on your lips as you watched Pietro speed away, leaving nothing but a trail of silver and blue to mark his path.

Turning around, you frantically looked for the evac point Pietro had told you to go to and you rushed over to it, joining the crowds of people hurrying to get to safety. The tension in the air was almost overwhelming and you could almost feel the anxiety and fear coming off the crowd in waves.

Some time passed and you finally managed to get onto the lifeboat, but as the battle in Novi Grad city began to reach its end, there was a commotion about the heroes who had stepped in. You didn’t get a chance to see what had happened, but what you did see from the lifeboat you were on was someone carrying a body.

Your Pietro.

And your heart dropped.

***

“I’ll give you a moment.” Clint looked up from his position, noticing you in the doorway to the room. “Thank you.” You responded shyly, voice quiet and husky from crying. You’d pushed and shoved and yelled to get someone to notice you. It was only when Wanda had seen you being handled by Thor that she intervened and let you see what was going on.

Clint left and closed the door behind him, Wanda having spent some time herself with him before everyone else had the chance. He’d been pronounced dead at the scene. That was enough to shatter your world to pieces and certainly not the way you had wanted things to end between you and Pietro.

Perhaps if you had been selfish and made him stay with you like you had wanted none of this would have happened. You let out a pained sigh as you sat at his side, taking his hand into both of yours, immediately feeling the swell of tears. Maybe if those months ago you had put up more of a fight against the twins agreeing to the experiments this wouldn’t have happened.

Letting out a pained sob, you leaned over Pietro, tears that you were unable to hold back rolled down your cheeks. “You were supposed to meet me on the lifeboat.” You cried out, half heartedly hitting your hand against the mattress. “You promised.” It came out as a pained whisper.

“I did.” Pietro rasped out, barely awake.

When Pietro had been brought back to the tower, you had all assumed from the grave news told to you by Cho and Banner that Pietro was gone completely, but what they didn’t realise at first was that his body was in recovery and his accelerated metabolism had been working to bring him to full health. His heart beat had been there, but his body had slowed it massively, leaving it almost undetectable. Now Pietro lay in a hospital bed, regaining life as the moments ticked by.

You watched as his eyes fluttered open and he slowly turned his head to look at you with a grunt, a lazy grin on his lips as he set his eyes on you. “Hey, Prinţesă.” He whispered, his grip on your hand tightening. “How are you feeling?” You asked, giving him a watery smile, reaching up to brush away some of your tears, though they kept coming.

“I have felt better.” Pietro shrugged with a smirk. “But with you around, anything is perfect.” He winked, making you giggle. “Piet you almost died and the first thing you do when you wake up is flirt with me.” You quirked a brow with a laugh, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

He hummed and nodded. “Come here, I want to pick up where we left off, don’t you?” He grinned, lifting his free hand to lazily gesture you to come to him. Rolling your eyes and smiling brightly, you leaned over Pietro, your lips bushing softly against his and meeting for a slow, soft kiss. It was tender and sweet and much less rushed and fearful than the first, but it held the same feelings and sentiment all the same.

Pietro hummed as he kissed you, your lips so soft against his, so sweet and gentle and when you pulled away, he reached up to caress your cheek, wiping away some of your tears as he held you there. You were in his hands, under his touch and he was under yours, breathing and very much alive.

“I love you, Prinţesă mea, I always have.” Pietro whispered as he looked into your eyes. “I love you too, Piet. I can’t remember a time that I haven’t.” You replied, a blush breaking out on his cheeks at your response and that lazy grin returned.

“I better tell Wanda you’re awake.” You smiled as you pulled away. “Yes, I want to see my sister.” He nodded. “Prinţesă, I’m glad it was you I woke up to.” Pietro gave you a genuine smile as he said it, meeting your eyes, his words holding the same sincerity as they always did with you and you returned his smile. “Me too Piet.” You squeezed his hand gently.

“Stay a moment longer, please? Just you and me for a minute more.” Pietro asked, refusing to let go of your hand. Breaking out into a bright smile, you nodded with agreement and settled down next to him. “Always, Piet.”

Pietro Taglist (OPEN):

@valkyriesryde @bisexual---mermaid @sherlocked-bitch @virtualmemmecollector @megantje123 @sebbbystaaan @unknown-and-invisible @scarlett-berserker @yougottakeeponkeepinon @chiefwobblerauthorrebel @kitkatd7 @herwaywardskies @saltywintersoldat @potterssuperhero @mushyjellybeans @lancetuckershairgel @book-dragon-13 @marvelgirl7 @southernbell91

#pietro x reader #pietro x you #pietro x y/n #pietro maximoff #pietro #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x you #quicksilver #marvel #marvel fic #MCU fic

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carolmaximoffs · 4 years

Text

THE GOOD DOCTOR

CHAPTER FOUR

Ch. Summary: Thea gets a suspicious text from an unknown number. She risks sharing her secret with the team, in hopes of finding who’s behind them.

Warnings: stillbirth, vague depiction of childbirth, loss of a child, Agents of S. H. I. E. L. D. spoilers, cursing, probably some spelling errors

Pairings (bc I guess now is as good a time as ever to add this): Sam Wilson x WOC OFC

A/N: i’m on a roll and i don’t think it’s a good one...regardless, italics are a flashback (in the form of a dream). bold italics are texts, though that i hope is obvious... things get a little weird in this chapter but it’s bc i was watching OUAT and regina’s weird tomb w all those hearts is partially responsible. i’m sorry if this isn’t your jam right away but i promise this isn’t going to be a dark fic! this is probably about as creepy as it’ll get. again PLEASE read the warnings.

Taglist (which is open!): @marvelousmrstark

THE DOCTOR AND THE CAPTAIN dance around each other for a week following lunch. She still hangs out with Wanda, and sometimes Bucky and Sam, but Steve is always miraculously busy. When Thea wakes up early to train with Natasha, Steve is always conveniently just leaving the kitchen as she enters. It isn’t until a Saturday morning that it comes to a halt.

Tony quite literally drags Steve by the ear into the med-bay, which Thea would find funny if she weren’t loath to see him. America’s golden boy, and she’d been the one to tick him off. She knew he was a cautious man, suspicious due to events in recent years, and even in his past; it didn’t stop her from feeling incredibly awkward after his seemingly blatant distrust of her.

The dark-haired man releases his hold on Steve and crosses his arms. The tips of Steve’s ears are grow red as Thea looks up from the paperwork she’s been doing, in regards to Clint’s mission injury a few days ago.

“Talk,” Tony says as sternly as possible.

“Thea, it wasn’t my place to question you about your abilities,” Steve starts, and Tony gives him a thumbs up while nodding encouragingly. Thea resists the urge to roll her eyes. “I...you made it clear you were just here as a doctor, and if that’s all you want to be then I will respect that. Thank you again for...my leg. And while I do think-”

“Alright, shows over, nice job, thanks Dory!” Tony hastily interjects, gripping Steve’s forearm and steering him out of the small office. Thea rises to her feet.

“Wait,” She commands, and they stop, Tony’s shoulders sagging. “What do you think?”

“I think,” Steve says, turning around and meeting her eyes, “That your powers could be a great asset to the team. Outside of medical situations.”

Thea realizes what he’s getting at. It takes everything in her to remain calm, lifting her chin just a little.

“Whether that’s true or not, I’m perfectly happy with what I’m doing. Thank you for the apology, Steve.” Her words come out stiff, a little sharper than she means them to. Nevertheless, Thea shakes Steve’s hand when he offers it, and maintains her rigid posture until she hears the main doors to the med-bay close.

“I tried to warn him,” Tony offers, having shifted to lean against the doorway. Thea drops into her chair with a sigh, leaning her head back as she clicks a pen absently.

“I just wish everybody would let it go. It’s not...it’s not cool, it’s not useful.” Thea sits up straight, tossing the pen aside and gripping her desk. “I mean, what would I do with my powers in a fight? Put somebody to sleep? Stop their heart? I’m not...I’m not a killer, Tony.”

“I know you’re not,” He says softly, approaching her desk to pry her fingers off it. “I won’t tell you that I agree with him, you know I do, but I will tell you it is 100% your decision.”

Thea manages a thank you, and, bless him, Tony leaves. She closes the folder on Clint’s mission after signing a few more pages and sets it into her main desk drawer. Peering as far as she could to be sure Tony was gone, she pulls a key from around her neck and unlocks a little side drawer.

Inside, only two items lay. One is a picture of her and her brother, only a year after she’d been adopted. Fury had explained his choice of family as ‘somewhere Thea could blend in, feel comfortable’, and it was perfect. The Triplett’s adopted her within 6 months of fostering her; she was home. In the photo, Antoine stands much taller than she, with an arm around her shoulders and the other wiggling into her abdomen. She, as a result of his tickling, is frozen in time laughing openly.

Thea sets the photo aside and reaches back into the drawer for the other object. It’s a locket, one Antoine had given her. Though the chain is thin, the charm attached is sizable for a necklace. It vibrates with energy that might make Thea nervous if she wasn’t so intimately familiar with it. The click of the lock coming undone still sends chills down her spine, regardless.

Within it, shrouded in the gold of Thea’s magic, beats a tiny human heart.

That night, dinner is a lonely affair. Steve had left for a mission shortly after seeing Thea, Natasha and Sam with him. Bucky and Wanda had invited her to join them for supper, but Thea feigned having work to do; Tony had gone on a date with Pepper. Now, as the stove clock blinks 9:30, Thea settles at the breakfast bar with a bowl of leftover dumplings.

She eats in silence, only disrupted when behind her, the TV clicks on. A glance over her shoulder shows her Bucky, flipping channels despite the book open on his lap. He doesn’t acknowledge her, however, so Thea returns to her meal, until her phone pings in her back pocket.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Thea frowns at the device, but opens the message anyways.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Funny how the good doctor avoids her powers

with friends, but not with family.

Thea’s heart begins to pound. Not only had she made sure she was alone earlier, and every time she went into her drawer, but the key is always with her. Any assistants Tony hired had never even been through the office - it was really only for paperwork, anyways, and they always left it on the desk for Thea to go through later. She feels nauseous, suddenly: the only other person on Earth who knew about the locket, and it’s true nature, was dead.

“You alright, Doc?” Comes a voice, and Thea jumps. She swallows as Bucky eyes her curiously, slipping her phone back into her pocket and nodding.

“Yeah, I...yes. I’m good,” Thea replies, but her voice quivers just enough that Bucky grips her arm as she moves past him to put her bowl in the sink.

“Thea-” He tries, but Thea pulls her arm away, giving him a tight, apologetic smile.

“Bucky, I’m fine. Seriously.” Thea insists before she ducks out of the kitchen. She can’t shake the feeling of his gaze, half pity and half suspicion, even as she shuts her bedroom door. After a moment of thought, she locks it, for good measure, and closes every curtain. No chances taken. She showers and changes from scrubs to sweats, and as she settles into her pillows she pulls out her phone again.

But not with family.

Thea still feels nauseous, and without even thinking, she types out a response.

Who is this?

There’s no immediate answer. Thea groans as she shuts her light off and tosses the phone aside. She tosses and turns until finally falling into nightmares.

2014

Thea laughs as Antoine crouches to coo over her quickly growing stomach. One month from her due date, but her brother has been devoted to her child from the moment Thea found out she was pregnant. She hadn’t even thought she could have children, nor had she really thought about them with the insane hours she worked, but she too was excited.

“Hi little bugger,” He whispers. Thea scolds him for language, but he ignores her. “I’m your Uncle Trip. We’re gonna be best friends, ‘cause your mama’s gotta be strict.”

Thea flicks his forehead, and he only smiles up at her before rising to his feet.

“I’m sorry,” He starts, and Thea collapses dramatically back into her couch. “About Ward. If we had- if I had known, Dot, you know-”

“Ant, it’s fine. Not your fault at all,” Thea tries to reason with him, but since learning of Grant’s true nature, she’d been struggling as well. Her long-time boyfriend had seemed so...so wonderful. Though Thea tried not to think about how he had seemed, tried not to think about him at all; it just spiraled until she was left wondering how much of it was lies.

Suddenly, she cries out, and Antoine rushes to her as she doubles over. His voice floats in and out of focus, the pain consuming her.

“Dot? Hey, Dot, what’s up? Dor…”

Thea feels only as if she blinks, and when she opens her eyes, she’s in a hospital bed. She’s hooked to various machines, and the room itself is crowded with people. Sound is still distorted, but Antoine is right by her side, gripping her hand. It’s a small relief.

“It’s too soon,” Thea protests as an unfamiliar woman crouched by her feet tells her to push. She doesn’t notice that she can only hear one heart monitor beeping. “Please, it’s too soon-”

With further insistence, Thea pushes anyways, the promise of ending the pain too tempting. A scream tears from her throat. It feels like only minutes before she feels all pressure lift; she'd done it. Yet the cry she expects does not come. She fees . Thea holds onto her brother’s hand for dear life.

“Ant? What’s happening? What’s wrong?” She whimpers, but Antoine is asking the doctors the same questions. Finally, they file out slowly, until only one doctor remains, a nurse standing just behind her, almost out of sight.

“Ms. Triplett, we are so sorry. Your son...was stillborn. You can...you can still hold him if you’d like.”

Thea’s body is wracked with sobs, but she holds her hands out regardless. The nurse places her unmoving child, swaddled with his eyes closed, into her arms. Antoine wraps an arm around her shoulders as Thea lets go of his hand to hold her son’s. The doctor mentions something about giving her time, and she and the nurse file out.

“He’s perfect,” Thea whispers. She stares down at where her dark fingers encase his tiny tan hand, and her crying ceases. A deep determination settles into her bones. “I want to keep him.”

“Thea.” Antoine gasps, alarmed, but she looks up at him with pleading eyes.

“Please. Please, Ant, you know I would never ask you anything like this but I-he’s my son.”

And as Antoine takes up a stray scalpel, Thea’s heart shatters all over again.

Thea jerks into a sitting position, gasping for breath. Her hands scramble for the key, feeling it still secure around her neck. Without thinking, she slides her feet into slippers and races from her room. She’s almost to the elevator when someone calls her name.

“Thea?”

It’s Sam, voice raspy from sleep. He’s still in his tactical suit, though without wings and goggles, evidently having been so wiped out he hadn’t changed. They must’ve just gotten back, then.

“Sam,” she replies breathlessly. Thea struggles to tamp down the panic trying to eat her alive as he emerges fully from his bedroom, making his way to her. “I thought you had a mission.”

“Just an in and out thing,” He replies, rubbing his eyes. “Are you alright? It’s 2:30.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m great,” Thea lies, forcing a small laugh. Sam doesn’t look like he believes her, but she presses on. “Just heading to the kitchen, glass of water, you know.”

“Then I’ll join you,” Sam says, taking another step towards her, and Thea’s heart feels ready to burst from her chest.

“No!” Sam looks taken aback. His usually laid-back demeanor is uneasy. Thea gulps, fingers coming back up to twist into the chain of her necklace. “I mean, no, thank you. I also left something, um, downstairs, in my, my office so really, you should go back to bed. Need some rest.”

She forces a laugh, but Sam only sighs, running a hand over his face. “Show me.”

Thea swallows the bile rising in her throat and tries to steady her breathing as he follows her to the elevator. No more words are spoken as they walk down the hallway past the garage, Tony’s lab, and enter the medbay. Thea takes the key from around her neck as they enter the tiny back office. He crosses his arms expectantly as she unlocks the drawer.

The locket nearly slips from her trembling hands, so Sam takes it instead, and Thea can’t find it in her to protest. He opens it, and closes it almost right after, staring at Thea with wide eyes.

“What...the fuck?” Sam whispers, and Thea feels her eyes burn with tears. “Is…is that-”

He struggles to get the words out, and Thea lets the first tears roll as she nods. Sam silently sets the locket back in the drawer and shuts it. “Who?”

Thea takes a deep, shaky breath. An understanding seems to have grown between them, though Thea isn’t sure she wants him to voice it out loud. She squeezes her eyes shut to try to block out the semi-horrified look on his face.

“It’s my son’s.”

Thea swears Sam to secrecy, but he only agrees on the condition that she’ll tell the team as soon as she can.They return to their separate rooms, Thea with the locket clasped securely about her neck. Sure she won’t be able to sleep, not now, not when someone...two someones now know her secret. She opts instead to perch in the bay window of her bedroom, staring out over the city. Thea loses exact track of time as she immerses herself in thoughts, and the sun shines high above the city when FRIDAY’s voice reaches her ears.

“Dr. Triplett, Boss wishes you’d join the team in the living room, please.”

Thea, habitually, tightens her fingers around the key, and now the locket as well. Quickly, she changes from her sleep shirt into a pullover and jeans, opting to head downstairs barefoot. As FRIDAY had said, the entire team is already spread out across the living room. Tony rises to his feet to guide Thea to sit next to him before clearing his throat.

“Birdbrain said you had something to tell us, but I knew if you’d kept something from me it must be serious,” Tony explains, and Thea finds herself nodding. “Didn’t want to uh, make you feel under any more pressure with a conference room.”

Thea nods, hesitating. She takes the beat of silence to look over everyone, feeling almost as if it was the day she’d arrived. Wanda is curled up to Vision, Natasha and Steve taking up the rest of Tony and Thea’s couch. Steve’s sat forward, elbows rested on his knees, already intently listening. Bucky lingers in the kitchen doorway. Rhodey and Sam, too, are on their feet, and when she meets his eyes, Sam gives her an encouraging nod. The surgeon is unable to voice the truth, not without any leeway. She unhooks the locket from her neck and opens it.

The moment Thea does this, gasps and murmurs flood the room. After just a few seconds, once she was sure everyone had seen it’s contents, she closes the locket and gently sets it into her lap. Tony is floundering beside her, but Thea speaks first.

“That is my son’s heart,” She croaks, a little surprised at the brokenness of her voice. She finds herself meeting Sam’s eyes as she speaks, as she hadn’t even explained it to him last night.

“He was stillborn and...I didn’t handle it very well.” Thea continues. She thinks Rhodey mutters an ‘obviously’, but he’s quickly shushed. A sob builds in her throat as she talks, but she fights it. “My brother was there...he um, he had some medical training as well, he...he took out the heart for me, and I healed my son’s body so they wouldn’t suspect anything. He’d never had a heartbeat to begin with s-so nobody said anything. His body was cremated. A year later, my brother died. He was the only person who knew about...about Philip’s heart.”

To Thea’s shock, Natasha reaches out to grab her hand. With her free hand, Thea swipes at stray tears. When Thea looks over at the other woman, Natasha is watching her with a knowing expression. Vision’s voice cracks the moment in two.

“Pardon me but...where was the father?” He asks hesitantly, and Thea laughs bitterly, to their shock.

“Out of the picture. He was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent I met through my brother but...” Thea shakes her head, reminiscing. “He turned out to be undercover Hydra. Said he only knew me for me but, he read files on me long before he even joined S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Natasha is nodding in Thea’s peripheral, and Thea recalls in the back of her mind that Nat had worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. in the past. She must have at least some inkling of what Thea was on about. The younger woman pulls her hand back into her lap gently, to wrap both of them around the locket.

“It doesn’t matter now. He’s dead and irrelevant. But last night, I got a text from an unknown number,” Thea reveals. “It was only one thing but it...it really shook me because yesterday I had looked at Philip’s heart. And then I get that message...‘Funny how the good doctor avoids her powers with friends, but not with family.’”

“And your brother was the only person who knew, but he’s...passed on as well, right?” Steve interjects, and Thea nods. “How did Sam find out?”

Thea fights a smile. Part of her felt...relief. She hadn’t talked about this with anyone before, and never planned to. Even if the team was finding out now, she was glad to have been able to trust Sam first. She takes a deep, slightly shaky breath before going on.

“I had a dream, last night. Or a nightmare, really. I...remembered the day Philip was born. Or, not born, I guess. I don’t know. But the dream and the messages, I was so shaken up and I went to go check on the locket. The key to the drawer it was in is always...” Thea untucks the key around her neck, “but I was so paranoid...Sam caught up with me in the hallway. Had me take him down to show him. I just...I guess I knew it was time to tell someone.”

All at once, Thea’s exhaustion hits her. It’s clear to the other’s that she’s finished sharing. Steve, ever the leader, nods sympathetically and reaches over to pat Thea’s shoulder as he stands.

“Well, you did the right thing,” He states, and the sentiment is followed with murmurs of agreement from the team. “Especially with this...unknown person messaging you.”

“He’s right, DT,” Tony says, speaking for the first time since Thea had sat down. He’s risen to his feet as well, already rubbing his hands together. “In fact, give me your phone. I’ll see if I can’t figure out who’s behind this.”

Thea agrees, though she left her phone in her bedroom, and Tony tells her not to worry. After Thea promises to bring it down to the lab ASAP, the group disperses. Nat pulls her aside with a surprisingly kind smile as she makes towards the elevator.

“Philip for Coulson, right?” The redhead inquires. Thea smiles back, a little embarrassed, but she nods.

“He was one of the one’s who rescued me as a kid,” Thea elaborates as she presses the button for the residential floor. Nat nods, but she’s suddenly bumped by Sam as he slips into the elevator with Thea.

“Sorry, Nat!” He calls out as the doors close. The man spares the buttons a quick once over, but evidently they’re going to the same place. Sam settles in beside Thea without pushing a single one’ she tries to ignore the fact that he’s comfortable enough to stand so close their elbows brush, despite all he’s learned of her. They exit the lift together, not engaging in conversation, but he walks her all the way to her door near the end. Right as she goes to enter, he coughs. Thea turns back to him with a raised brow.

“I know that couldn’t have been easy for you,” Sam tells her. It’s a redundant statement, but the soft quality to his voice prevents Thea from being annoyed. “Steve was right though, because we can...you know, we can help you now.”

Thea bites back a scoff as she pushes open her door and walks inside. True to her instinct, Sam follows.

“I mean with the texts, of course. ‘Cause that’s some creepy shit,” He hastily amends. “Although...I do know a little about PTSD.”

This has Thea stopping in her tracks. She turns around, arms crossed, to meet his eyes again. Sam’s face wears a strange look she can’t read, but she raises a brow as nonverbal permission to go on.

“If you ever...wanted to talk to anyone. Not like, a shrink. Like a...a friend.” He’s nervous, Thea realizes, as he scrubs a hand over the back of his neck and shifts his weight. Despite the tightness gripping her heart, Thea gives him her most appreciative and reassuring smile.

“Thanks, Sam,” She says. He nods, more to himself than anything, and turns to leave as Thea turns back to her dresser. As she picks up her phone, she gasps. “Sam?!”

His footsteps almost echo as a new bout of queasiness washes over Thea. She doesn’t hear what he says as she stares at the screen, barely registering him so close to her as he takes a look.

UNKNOWN NUMBER You know who it is. Return to

the place it all began, for it

is the place that all ends.

#sam wilson #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #tony stark #colonel james rhodes #rhodey #vision #bucky barnes #mcu #marvel fic #mcu fanfic #mine #tgd/carolmaximoffs

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vivxwrites · 5 years

Text

Lovers Quarrel

*not my gif*

Word Count: 1625

Warning(s): None? Some injuries. Ca:cw spoilers (lol)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: hi! i sincerely apologize for the wait so here’s this! It was requested by an anon here and i hope whoever that whoever it was gets to read it!

The scene painted out before you reminded your idle mind of those that occurred during the times of ancient history, tales recorded on wooden tablets and later translated into a world of empires and invasions. Tales of kings and commanders and armies, tales of power struggles and barbaric actions. Where city-states were just barely discovering copper and iron and steel and metal and where one-hundred-year-old super soldiers didn’t magically freeze and thaw out, only to wake up seventy something years later. Where there was no Iron Man, or Hawkeye, and where there were certainly no Black Widows. No Black Widows that slowly extended their long legs over your heart and nestled down deep, deep enough to just nearly become one with the genetic coding of the cells that made up one of the most vital organs in your body. You furtively wished that you weren’t part of the timeline filled with superhumans and ex-Russian assassins and men that flew around in suits engineered by a certain genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.

Despite your desperate wishes here you were, lined up in an airport hanger with half of the avengers that you had chosen to align yourself with. Across from you stood your friends, your family, and your- well, you weren’t quite sure what exactly Natasha was to you.

You could feel her eyes fixated on you, and whether fury or concern were being directed at you, you weren’t too sure, especially seeing as you refused to even flick your own eyes in her general direction.

Her tiny huff of annoyance didn’t go unnoticed by you and you cursed whatever government officials deemed the Accords an appropriate measure of action. If splitting the Avengers into two was the reaction they were oh so kindly hoping to achieve, then their overpriced bottles of champagne were most certainly cork-less by now.

Your whole body ached with the primal need to see the love and adoration that you had grown used to in the now familiar jade-green eyes of one Natasha Romanoff. Your bones had long since endured the weight of sorrow and regret and by this point, the precipice of this protracted conflict, you were feeling the full weight and brunt of a word solely known as exhaustion.

You were pulled from your period of self-awareness by the start of the fight, the war, between two forces that had been nearly unstoppable when combined. What the outcome would be, you hadn’t the slightest clue and you were whole-heartedly not looking forward to finding out.

And so you did your best to avoid the stunning red-head who made your head swim with thoughts that you were definitely not supposed to be thinking while tossing punches at some guy in a panther suit. As the battle dragged on, however, you were unpleasantly forced to find out that your attempts to avoid that certain someone were meaningless.

She looked as good as ever in her sleek combat gear and good god what you wouldn’t give to smash your body against hers in a hug tight enough to crack the pistachio nuts you had deemed ‘breakfast’ just this morning.

“(Y/N).” She spoke with a tone of indifference and you flinched at the fact that it was being directed at you. Of course you felt immense guilt for not sticking by Natasha’s side but how could you when your beliefs lay with the opposite team? How could you sit back and sign a contract that basically handed over your freedom and everything that you had worked so very hard to achieve when you were something of a Hydra experiment yourself? How could you possibly be able to sign your life away to the sleazy, wrinkly men that called themselves the American Government when you had been in Bucky’s shoes not too long ago? And if you had deserved a chance to change then god fucking dammit so did he.

Needless to say, this was the biggest lovers quarrel in history.

“Nat,” you bit down hard on your lip in an attempt to stop its trembling, “I-“

Thought you loved me, you wanted to say, thought you would understand how much this meant to me, thought you would stand up for me. Your throat bobbed up and down as you swallowed the vowels and consonants of the phrases thickly, their bitter aftertaste more unpleasant than that of the tangy salt water that she made you gargle when you got sick.

You could only stare wordlessly at Nat and she, you. The entire fucked up situation made you feel sick, a constant state of unsettlement rushing through your veins alongside the anger and hatred that you felt for the so-called ‘higher ups.’ And then finally, Clint, bless that man, intervened and off he and Nat went, twisting and turning as if they were the cats and dogs you used to mindlessly watch on television when a nightmare of yours was particularly bad.

The telltale shink of Steve’s shield meeting its target had you cringing inwardly. You heard him holler your name and off into the fray you went, ducking under a stray metal suit and jumping over the cracks in the concrete that made up the hanger.

“Cap. You called?” You dragged your gaze from him to the hulk of a man next to him and as hard as the soldier tried to remain stoic, you saw the guilty look that hid away in the top corner of his eyes.

“Buck and I need to get to that hanger over there, can you cover us?” When Steve spoke, your gaze remained on Bucky. You gave him a small, reassuring smile before turning back to Steve.

“It’s what I do best, Captain.” He nodded stiffly and you could tell that something was bothering him. “What? You worried about lil ‘ol me or something?”

He sighed deeply, “You know Natasha would kill me if you get hurt.”

You felt your nostrils flare in annoyance, “Natasha’s not exactly here right now, is she?” Of course that wasn’t one hundred percent true but from what you could see of her, flashes of red and black every so often, it seemed she was quite busy with problems of her own.

“(Y/N)-“

“Steve please. Do you want my help getting across this airport or not?” He finally nodded again and you nodded back.

The three of you took off towards the destination and were about halfway there when the sound of thrusters drew nearer. You cursed to yourself and kept running until Tony dropped down in front of you, the face-plate on his mask retracted as if he wanted the three of you to see just how angry he really was.

“Stark,” You drawled, “how nice to see you.”

“You too sweetheart.” He growled and you sneered at him.

You waved Steve and Bucky forward, signaling that you could handle Tony. They threw you reluctant looks before finally taking off. “You don’t want to tango with me hun.”

A self-satisfied smirk crawled onto your face, “Oh but I do.”

He fired a blast at you and you dodged with a perfectly placed combat roll, positioning yourself behind some loading crates. When Tony flew closer to you, you reached up and clamped your arm onto the arm of his suit and held tight as he swore and flew about, trying to knock you off. When bucking you about like a bronco didn’t work he retracted the faceplate again and smirked at you, “Hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

Tony flew skyward and you held on with all the upper body strength you had as he reached a dangerous height, wherein if you fell you wouldn’t necessarily die, but the impact wouldn’t be the nicest experience.

Your arms burned with the exertion of holding your body weight up and you could feel your fingers beginning to slip on the cool metal of the suit.

“Rhodes, get ready to catch this lovely package.” After Tony’s statement your grip finally gave out and you went tumbling to the ground, a view of smoke and the blue cloud-ridden sky accompanying you.

Rhodey was nowhere to be seen as you fell, ten feet left, then five, until you landed on the ground with a sickening crunch and pain shot up your spine. You tried to scream in agony but the sound wouldn’t come out, as if your vocal chords themselves were feeling the vibrations of the tight, coiling pain.

Distantly you could hear screams and yelling but you couldn’t make out whom the sounds belonged to. Your eyelids felt heavy and your body twisted and writhed every which way on the ground in an attempt to fight the pain in your system. The ground shook with the approaching footsteps of someone but then again you were too out of it to comprehend if it was instead the violent shaking of your spine beneath you that you were feeling.

“Moya lyubov,” Nat panted desperately and reached over to cup your cheeks in her warm hands, “are you okay?”

“Nat,” you cried, “M’ sorry baby.”

She shushed you and leaned down to press her forehead against yours, the first few tears rushing down her face, “Shh. No, (Y/N), honey it’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered desperately. “I’m so sorry.”

“Baby please, stay with me. Keep your eyes open for me.” Her voice sounded distant even with her close proximity and your eyelids were just so heavy and you could feel yourself giving in, succumbing to the black just visible at the edge of your vision. You took one last peak at Natasha until you finally closed your eyes.

When you woke up you were all alone, cuffed to a hospital bed in an unfamiliar room.

A/N: Listen, I don’t know what this is or why I have inserted some weird world history shit into the fic but please just accept it for what it is. I’m satisfied as hell that I managed to throw this together and have it out to y’all by today so I beg of you to be proud of me for finally putting out some content, regardless of its questionable grammar and spelling and odd facts. Have I done good or have I done goofed, please let me know. Love always, Viv <3

Permanent Tag List: @autumnjackson4 @captainwonderwidow @5aftermidnight @blushycarol @pruemania @lesbian-x-blackwidow @taramitch96 @fansanctuary @envy-adamss

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female!reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction

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all1e23 · 5 years

Text

Astrophile [Pt.17]

Chapter: Aurora

Summary: Happily ever after happens when you least expect it.

Warnings: Astrophile fluff.

A/N: Okay, I had no intentions of leaving everyone hanging so long but I got so sick. I am still coming out of it but I finally had enough energy to get this out. I hope this is the ending everyone was wanting to see. It’s been in my head since chapter 3/4 so hopefully, it was worth the wait. Thank you all for sticking with me and loving this little family as much as I do. Epilogue still to come and let’s not forget Astrophile Files.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

Smoke was all Bucky could see. He could feel the flames burning his skin and piles of ash tarnishing every good thing in his life. Consuming all Bucky cares about, taking… everything and leaving him nothing but the empty shell of a man. Because that’s what he would be without them, empty and broken. Thick, grey smoke cutting through golden orange flares that are choking the life out of every dream Bucky has for the future. Dark clouds of smoke billowing out of the windows of the bookstore. Blazes burning through the dark blue painted wood Bucky spent an afternoon fixing – charing and splintering it until there is nothing left he can recognize.

All the time and hard work Y/n’s grandparents put into the store over all those decades– every recital missed, every field trip and school play skipped was in vain in one afternoon. Every one of Y/n’s dreams gone in a flash. Just like that. Everything she told him she wants for the future will be gone, and there is nothing he can do to protect her from that. All he can do is watch as the flames take away every last thing that means anything at all to him.

Hope shattering smoke and world devastating flames are filling up Bucky’s head and heart and they haven't arrived on the scene yet. Y/n is smart enough to get out of the building if something happened, and Ori has had more than her fair share of fire safety from Bucky and her uncles over the years. She knows what to do if there are any signs of trouble, but what if they didn’t see the signs until it was too late? What if it started upstairs and spread into the bookstore before they had an opportunity to comprehend what was happening? What if they are trapped in Y/n’s office because they were back there sneaking stacks of books for Ori to bring home?

What if he loses them both bore he never has a chance to tell her.. to say to them both– Steve sensing the dark thoughts looming in Bucky’s head, sets a hand on his shoulder and he only knows it’s Steve because he recognizes the gold wedding band gleaming in the corner of his eye. He didn’t want to look up right now. The truck is hushed, and Bucky knows if he looks up and sees the worry and fear on his friend’s faces, it will only add to the unfavorable images that are tormenting him. So he keeps his eyes down, locked on the yellow sleeve of his turnout jacket that is covering his left arm, he can’t see it, but he can feel it – the silver star that sits in the center of his bracelet and rests right above the ink on his arm.

“Maybe you should hang back until we know what we are dealing with.”

Bucky’s head jerks up to meet Steve’s anxious eyes regarding him keenly. As much as Bucky understands where he’s coming from and loves Steve for what he’s striving to do, there is no way in hell he’s waiting back at the truck and not going in after them.

It’s not happening – no matter what they find.

“Steve,” Bucky shook his head and dropped his eyes to slip his gloves on and avoid the look on his best friend’s face.

“Don’t – Just. Don’t.”

Bucky can feel his heart pounding harder with each corner turned. The closer they get, the more the sirens are drowned out, and by the time the truck comes to a stop, all he can hear is his breath moving through his face mask. The steady sound of his oxygen – in and out, in and… out. They didn’t make it out, a dark, cruel part of his brain taunts him. Clint looks back at Buck and tells him something, but Bucky doesn’t catch it. From the little he got off reading Clint’s lips it wasn’t the bookstore and from the looks of things, Clint’s right.

It’s not the store.

The first one out of the truck, Bucky’s ignoring protocol, and he knows there will be a ‘Roger’s lecture on safety’ once this is all over. He doesn’t care. Steve can fire him because he simply doesn’t care. None of this means anything without Ori and Y/n.

The lights in the store are off. Nothing is out of place from what he can see through the front window. The strands of fairy lights and the pillow fort from the girl’s sleepover are set up in the middle of the room. The open sign is flipped to closed, but that doesn’t mean anything. Bucky half expected Y/n to close the shop for the day so they could have the place to themselves or spend the day upstairs.

“It’s coming from upstairs,” Bucky believes someone shouts, but he can’t be sure. He is concentrated on the crowd that is surrounding the building and slowly growing in size from the commotion. He quickly scans for Y/n and Ori, but they aren’t there. Where the hell are they? The voice back of his head is back, and it’s there to remind Bucky that the bookstore being cleared doesn’t mean they are safe. He’s seen hundreds of ways this can go wrong and he knows he can still lose them.

The narrow hallway of stairs leading up to Y/n’s apartment is filled with smoke and Bucky swears he can feel it filling his lungs. It’s wormed its way into his mask, and he can feel it burning his lungs with every inhale. The outer wall to Y/n’s apartment looks untouched and the front door has been kicked in by Sam, he assumes, and Bucky can’t breathe – it has nothing to do with the smoke this time. He pushes his way up the stairs, rushing past Steve and skidding to a halt at the top. The smoke is coming from across the hall.

It’s not coming from her apartment. They could still–

“Buck! Bucky! Are you listening?”

Bucky turns back around to look at Steve, brows furrowed but his eyes filled with dread, he doesn’t want to know, but he asks anyway, voice cracking as he does, “W-what? I – What did you find?”

“It was the guy across the hall from her. The old man who lives over the bakery. The one that flooded her apartment–” Bucky blinked a few times and slowly straightens up, rapidly shooting off questions, “Did it spread to her place? They share a wall. It’s the south wall of her bedroom. How much is damaged? She still has some of her grandparent’s things. P-pictures and– and a scarf that was her grandfathers. We need to get those out.”

He takes a shaky breath and forces out the question he never wants to ask, “Were they in there when it happened? Are Y/n and Ori hurt?”

Steve puts his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and gently urges him down the small hallway of stairs that lead to the street.

“They aren’t here. From what I could gather, he fell asleep using his hotplate, and it caught his curtains on fire. He tried to put it out himself, which led to all the smoke and the deli next door calling us, but from the looks of the bookstore and her apartment, the girls aren’t here.”

That should bring him some comfort, but it doesn’t. One of them could still be hurt, and he’s entirely cognizant of how that sounds, but they aren’t here, and until he sees with his own two eyes they are okay he’s not going to be okay.

“So where are they?”

Bucky is tossing his helmet, hood, and face mask into the truck before Steve can argue. Steve opens his mouth to stop him from causing more of a scene, but Bucky is shoving his gloves and jacket into the truck and digging around for his phone before he can get out an argument.

“I don’t know Buck. Have you tried calling her?” Bucky glares at him over his shoulder, “Of course, I’ve tried calling her Steve. Right after we got the call. No response. I don’t– What if Ori – they could be at the hospital or something.”

“Buck, you know better than most not to play the ‘what-if’ game. Call them. Maybe they are with Nat? Did you try her?”

Times like these Bucky wants to punch Steve. Just once. A light punch.No lasting damage, more of a nudge than a punch. A nudge with a sting. It will make everyone feel better. Bucky flips his phone back forth in the hands and decides that punching him in public probably would cause more problems and somewhere deep, deep down he knows Steve is trying to be helpful – not a pain in his ass. Bucky nods his agreement and walks towards the back of the truck, away from the crowd and his friends. He doesn’t need anyone witnessing him in a full meltdown, and he’s right on the edge.

The phone is ringing, and he didn’t even realize he had hit Natasha’s number, but regardless it’s ringing. Every passing buzz in his ear has his heart speeding up until it felt like he was going to have a heart attack right there in the middle of the street. He drops to a squat and hangs his head between his legs, working to steady his breathing. If Natasha doesn’t know where they are he doesn’t know what he’s going to do–

“James? What– Aren’t you at work?”

“Nat!” Bucky shouts as he jumps up from his squat and begins to pace.

“Have you heard from Y/n? There was a fire at the bookstore and – and, it’s fine. It wasn’t actually the store. That idiot neighbor of hers. The store is fine, but I can’t find them. I can’t find my girls, Nat. I know they are probably fine and I am probably freaking out for nothing, but I can’t find my girls.”

The line is silent for a longest second of Bucky’s life, and then the sweet sound of annoyance in Natasha’s voice flickers through the line, “Boy, are you dumb, James.”

“Would everyone quit saying I’m dumb!” Bucky snaps.

He’s not in the mood today.

“When you quit acting dumb I will stop calling you dumb,” Natasha tells him with the quiet paitence of a mother.

“Y/n took Ori to the planetarium today, and you just said your girls.”

Bucky takes a deep breath, letting his panic rant replay in his head. He did. He’s never done that before. Never said the words out loud because they aren’t his girls – not really. It’s not real yet. It’s still just him and comet, and Y/n is… It’s only hope, a desperate wish he’s made so many times. But that’s all it is. A fantasy he may never have.

“Look– just –-“

“Quit being stupid and go find your girls. Make sure they know they are your girls.”

“Bucky…” A soft, anxious voice calls from behind him, he spins around to see Y/n and Ori standing there, unharmed and holding hands looking thoroughly confused. He’s not this lucky. This has to be a fluke. If this isn’t some very vivid hallucination, he is buying a thousand of those damn wish bracelets.

“Found ‘em. I gotta go Nat.”

In three long strides, Bucky has Ori off the ground and in his arms. He has no idea where his phone went. Doesn’t matter. He can buy another one. His girls are safe and here and that’s all that matters.

“What’s going on? Is everyone okay?” Y/n asks peering around the truck towards her shop that appears okay from the outside.

“Yeah,” Bucky croaks. “Yeah. There was an incident with your neighbor and a hot plate, but everyone is okay.”

Bucky places several kisses to Ori’s face – her forehead, nose, and those chubby cheeks he adores so much. “Everyone is okay,” He repeats one more time, and it’s purely for his sanity.

“Daddy, you’re being weird, and your beard is itchin’ me,” She says with a snicker and tries to wriggle free of the tight hold Bucky has on her.

“I’m sorry, comet. I’m sorry. I just… I needed to hug you.” He chuckles at all her wiggles and takes the hint setting Ori back down on the sidewalk, and she immediately grabs Y/n’s hand. Bucky steps towards Y/n and cups her face in his hands, thumbs softly running over her jaw and takes one final step closer, closing the gap between them.

“Bucky, are you sure everyone is okay? Are you okay?” Y/n asks, fear and nerves making her voice tremble. Her free hand reaches up to wrap around Bucky’s arm, needing stability for whatever Bucky is about to tell her.

“More than okay, Y/n,” he says with a smile and drops his forehead onto hers. “We got the call and… I might have panicked a bit. Okay, a lot. I panicked a lot. I needed to see my girls. I needed to know you were both okay. I had to know my girls were okay.”

“Your… Your girls?” Y/n squeaks, attempting to keep the hope out of her voice and missing the mark by a mile. She’s praying she didn’t misread this for the second time because her heart can’t go through that again.

Bucky only grins. His lips ghost over hers as he breathes against them, “Yeah. My girls.”

There’s a sparkle in her eyes, and he knows she’s about to ask him if he’s sure this is what he wants – if he really meant it the way it sounds. Her hand tightens on his wrist, and she tilts her chin just in time for Bucky to catch those pretty lips he’s spent months dreaming about. He’s had countless daydreams about this moment, and it’s everything and nothing like he dreamt. It’s soft, at first. Hesitant on both sides. As if he is waiting for her to shove him away, but she doesn’t. She melts into him, and they both sink into each other, the way they should have from the very beginning.

Through the years Bucky has kissed a few too many lips, and some had caused sparks, some didn’t, but none lit up every part of him as this one did. He can’t remember why they haven’t been doing this from the moment they met, and now that they have he never wants to stop. The sweetness of her kiss leaves him breathless and begging for more. Whatever tomorrow she has in mind for Bucky is hoping it’s the match to his tomorrow. As long as their next steps are taken together, he can be okay with taking the long route to get here.

Bucky slowly pulls away from her shaking lips, and Y/n immediately pulls him back only to be interrupted by Ori, “Are you gonna kiss all the time now? Because it’s a little gross.”

“Gross?” Bucky huffs, dramatic and comical like always. Y/n snorts and covers her mouth with her hand, a giggly muffled “I’m sorry” slips through her fingers and it only sets Ori off on her own tittering fit.

“I’ll show you gross, comet.” He swoops down and scoops her up, covering her face with kisses until she’s shouting through her giggles to stop. Bucky lifts her above his head and sets her on his shoulder – they aren’t getting out of his reach for the rest of the night, maybe the rest of the week. He drapes his right arm over Y/n’s shoulders and tucks her into his side, holding onto Ori’s ankle with his left hand. She spots his wrist, stripped and missing a particular piece of black leather.

“Hey, what happened to your bracelet?” Y/n asks with a frown.

Bucky looks down at his wrist that’s holding onto Ori’s ankle. Must have fallen off after he took his gloves off, when he was begging for a little more time and one more chance to do it all over. Bucky looks over at her and shrugs, answering her with a mile-wide grin, “My wish came true.”

Y/n grins in return and shakes her head, “Well, talk about lucky, December.”

“Lucky doesn’t begin to cover it, Beck.”

Previous // Epilogue

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #SINGLE DAD AU #single dad bucky #firefighter!bucky #Firefighter AU #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #alternate universe

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