#with any luck i can do this again and chip off even more OCs from the hat!! let's see how we go with schedules this year! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

swinterr · 4 years ago

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fic rec vii ♡

hi!

this is a another new set of fic rec and i’ll probably do a compilation of genre (?) just like the first ones.

read and support the fic and authors here: the fic rec ♡

made some changes like tidying up a bit and adding summary, for those that doesn’t have any summary i’ll try my best to add my own summary (it will probably be shit tho, i ain’t making a smut summary guys, i’m not confident in my describing a fic ability but i’ll try my best. if its in italic it means i made the summary hehez ) if the summary is shit, i made it okay.

a for angst

f for fluff

s for smut

// for series or list

kpop oc/s

1. jane by @baejiyeonz

2. bee by @purpleyellow

3. lian by @nct-lian

4. taehui by @jeontaehui

nct

sungchan

1. [10:47 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

haechan

1. [5:21] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

2. you’re warm by @dreamystuffers | f

- a drunk hyuck can only mean a clingy hyuck.

3. you’re short too by @pastelsicheng | f

- 5 times hyuck teases u for ur height.

4. no title by @heychan | s

- dirty thought cockwarming haechan and johnny comes in to the room while you are trying to hide it but haechan doesn’t care.

5. wishes by @lucaswithnoshirt | a f

- standing on stage is everything you’ve dreamed of. except in the time it’s taken you to get there, you’ve been dreaming about other things, too.

jaehyun

1. moving in: the series by @jaehyun-ified | f

- after agreeing to move-in with jaehyun, you decided to curate a little series on your channel to both give in to your viewer’s request to have jaehyun frequently on your contents and to document your moving in process with the love of you life.

2. [8:14 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

3. boyfriend by @simpsiren | a

- a relationship with jaehyun wasn’t always perfect. there wasn’t a definite label on it, which only sent the relationship down a complicated pathway as we tried to find the meaning of our love once again.

4. best part by @okayoongii | f

- don’t know how to describe this tho, just read it. also 10/10

5. can i help you? by @sugarjaee | f s

- when working an extra long shift at work, your boyfriend surprises you with a visit.

6. stages of love by @biletdoux | a f s

- a playlist for the trials and tribulations of a beating heart.

7. [9:04 am] by @jeongvision | // f

- domestic fluffy blurb. 10/10!!

8. suds by @kim-taehung | s

- first person to move does the dishes for a week. nothing is off-limits.

9. promise by @bvbyxuxi | f a

- jaehyun has loved you since you were both kids, things were going well until he messed everything up; meeting again as young adults, he refuses to let you go again but would you give him another chance?

mark

1. one minus on plus one by @wonjaekook | f a

- in all of the years you’ve known jungwoo, you should have figured out to not take his words at face value because, though you haven’t even met, mark lee seems to hate your guts.

2. [12:03] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

3. pretty boy by @epinebleue | f a

- fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, the reader is two years older than mark, jaehyun makes an appearance as the reader’s fuck buddy, use of alcohol and drugs (marijuana), mentions of violence (mark punches someone), smut (protected sex, inexperienced!mark, dry humping).

4. camera flash by @morkleemelon | f

- mark taking a picture but forgot to remove flash waking up oc, pretty fluffy and cute! 10/10!!!

5. retrouvailles by @kireimarkeu | f

- counting down the days until you finally see your long-distance boyfriend.

jungwoo

1. [1:14 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

johnny

1. man-icure by @haejunehui | f

- based on jcc ep. 26

taeyong

1. reverb by @lovingonrepeat | s

- taeyong + studio sex.

2. unspoken by @bvbyxuxi | f s

- you had never thought to see taeyong again after your one night stand with him until this year where he takes you by surprise; turns out he wasn’t the guy you sought him out to be after all.

ten

1. [2:32 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

lucas

1. [4:31 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

2. king of hearts by @raibebe | f s a

- a little bit of everything, a chef’s kiss.

yuta

1. [5:51 pm ] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

doyoung

1. redamancy by @heavenlyhaechan | f

- this is just so fluffy! i wished to be doyong gf please.

2. fools together by @yongiefilms | f

- two fools in love with each other?

3. acedia by @jaeminscoffee | f

- a day in the life of yours and doyoung's love life.

4. our little secret by @haejunehui | f

- read to know their little secret. hehe.

5. caught red handed by @hannie-dul-set | f

- all you wanted to do was take a picture of the handsome law student during your train ride home. you did not expect things to end up like this.

jeno

1. i see red by @0097linersb | s

- pure filth 🥵10/10 tho.

2. addiction by @love-mi | s f

- you and jeno keep your relationship a secret to avoid backlash from your companies and fans; but keeping himself away only makes him want you more.

3. surprise visit by @nakamotonudes | f s

- you hadn’t seen your boyfriend for over a month because of his hectic schedule so when he suddenly shows up at your place one night for a surprise visit, you both have to make every second worth it.

bts

jungkook

1. the pitter-patter of the heart by @koorara | f s a //

- pieces of newlywed domestic moments with jungkook, your husband. the young film and literature lecturer and his wife, you, who works as a journalist of a web magazine. both of you managing the career, the time for each other and the new house. not to forget, chip, the cat that has been with you for years.

2. please love me by @ahundredtimesover | // f s a

- as the only unmarried jeon and kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. but despite developing an affection for jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. you’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.

3. first love, last love by @floralseokjin | f s //

- a collection of drabbles following the longterm relationship between jungkook and you...

4. second chances by @parkhabits | a s

- work. one of the most important things to him. It kept him company at night, it was all he thought about, all he put his attention to. his work had become the mistress within your marriage. years after you left him you’re back with only one goal in mind. get him to sign the damn divorce papers. yet you should’ve known that your husband wouldn’t let you go that easily.

5. crush by @jungxk | f s

- jungkook woke up with amnesia (?) he totally forgets that he has a wife and child. and he totally has a huge crush on his wife.

6. bare necessities by @gguksgalaxy | f s a

- when you ask your boyfriend for a relaxing vacation you don’t exactly expect him to take you to disneyland out of all places. luckily, jungkook knows just how to get you to relax — being needy is definitely not the way. or is it…

7. krampus for christmas by @ddaenysus | f

- when your daughter overhears your nightly activities close to christmas, jungkook takes it upon himself to convince her it was the sounds of the legendary demon goat.

8. a date with destiny by @imjustfanfictrash | f s

- you are a boss lady in the tech industry traveling to world for work. he is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

9. stranded by @gguksgalaxy | f s a

- jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. his entire presence is unwelcome. you don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. it’s annoying — he is annoying. from the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. nope, you definitely can’t stand him.

10. sprout by @v-hope | f

- after a nice evening out with your friends, you find yourself coming home to your sleeping toddler and the new hairstyle she had tried on your husband.

11. friday nights and take-out by @ahundredtimesover | // f s a

- you meet pop star/idol jeon jungkook at the café, you get close, and as hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. but you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

12. jealousy by @ephemeralkookie | f s a

- jungkook’s closest friend, namjoon is getting married and he invited you three to his wedding. the only unexpected thing was jisoo, his ex, and we’ll just say that you were not too happy to see her flirting with your boyfriend right under your nose

13. a quarter past us by @jjiimin | f a

- when you break up with him out of fear of losing your freedom in university, he finds himself showing you why leaving him isn’t the answer.

14. pretty boy by @angelguk | // f s a

- alternatively known as the jock!jk universe drabbles in vague chronological order.

15. summer solstice by @boulevardk | s

- down on your luck and desperate for a successful harvest, you pray to the gods. you figure no one in heaven was listening to your prayers when nothing happens immediately. but one fateful night, your prayers are answered. are you willing to pay the price? the sacrifice might not be what you were expecting….

16. lilac wisteria by @blushoseoks | f a

- over the years, things change - but the one constant is your love for lilac wisterias.…okay, maybe jungkook’s been there too.or, alternatively:the first time jeon jungkook says that he is going to marry you, you are five years old sitting underneath a large wisteria tree.

17. obsessed with your ass by @kooklovesu | f s

- jungkook has an obsession with your body he cant get enough of praising you. he wasn’t comfy showing the world his affection towards you in public because he’s a private guy, but when he finally did, good luck.

18. from home by @gyukult | // f s a

- jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class?

19. black card by @minsprings | // f s

- black card fic and drabbles, also a chef’s kiss.

20. oh my god, they were (quarantined) roommates by @ot7always | f s

- what do you do when you’re quarantined for months on end with jeon jungkook - s tier cuddler, workout robot, and thirst trap extraordinaire? fuck him, you guess.

21. let the games begin by @venusiangguk | s

- just another fic where oc rides jk in his gaming chair pls still read it tho lmao its hot i promise

22. the probability of us by @jiminrings | f s

- jungkook’s the son of the university’s president, y/n’s cardigan is everyone’s favorite, and adjacent walls mean shared victories.

23. open when by @iluv-hobi | f

- jungkook likes to write letters to you, especially ones with purposes, like “open when ___”. one day, on a particularly bad day, you open, “open when you’ve had a shitty day”.

24. good day by @ilikemesometaetaes | f s

- his motive was made quite clear once he called you out of work. he just wanted to spend a nice day with his girlfriend. is that too much to ask for?

25. calculated by @whatifyoulivelikethat | // s

- some people would call you far too serious. some would call you stuck-up. and some would call you a bitch. but to freshman jeon jungkook, you’re the head calculus I TA noona – and he’s determined to fuck you.

26. brat taming by @sugasbabiie | s a f

- jungkook has been your roommate for almost a year. since the day he moved in he has acted like nothing but a spoiled little brat who is used to getting anything and anyone he wants. he eats your food, he doesn’t clean, he’s loud, oh and now he has colored his hair the exact shade of blonde as you. He’ll do anything to get under your skin. you’ve had enough of his filthy mouth and his fuckboy ways. it’s time to tame that bratty little roommate of yours. think you can handle it?

27. sugarplum energy by @bymoonchild | f s a

- you know no bounds nor depth with jungkook. while your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on soundcloud. all’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. or, jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

28. ancient history by @moononthejoon | a s f

- there is no way to deny that you and jungkook have chemistry. the two of you used to be a couple, after all. what happens when after a not-so-amicable breakup the two of you are cast as opposite leads of a movie?

29. that’s not daddy by @nochuobsessed | f

- jungkook comes home with a new hair color and his sons can’t tell if he’s appa or not. pretty cute! 10/10

30. no title by @himbojk | s

- jk got a blowie from his oc while on a zoom class meeting, like cam on with a whole set up but his oc under the table sucking the life out of him while he sits and tries to take notes .

31. dilf jk by @himbojk | // s f

- dilf jk drabbles.

32. no title by @himbojk | s

- blond jk with full tattoo sleeve who looks like the baddest boy but is actually baby and just wants a handie in the library while studying with his oc because she aspires to have those high grades.

33. no title by @noteguk | s

- bf!jungkook going down on the reader while they watch anime.

34. silent treatment by @blu-joons | f

- baby kook asking daddy kook to say sorry to mommy. 10/10 too!

35. getting railed by @dearlytea | s

- getting dicked by your boyfriend during a train ride.

36. the view by @koyamuses | s

- jungkook knows exactly what turns you on; every kink, every dirty fantasy that’s buried deep within your mind. he knows exactly how to make you beg for it.

37. let’s play: dirty by @jungkxook | f s

- on today’s stream, watch as the king of gaming jeon jungkook gets totally pwned by some newbie player on overwatch (he swears he was stream sniped)! to make matters worse, he can’t seem to focus anymore when you’re in the room but he promises that’s not because he’s in love with you or anything. use code ‘jungkook’ on any game purchase through steam at checkout for 25% off so that jungkook has something to feel better about! iloveyou btw!

38. more dilf!jk by @cutechim | s

- oc thirsting over jk, talk about finances, jungwoo is an innocent cock-block as infants are, disrespect towards a major film franchise.

39. you are inherently beautiful by @ggukachuwu | f a

- when y/n and jungkook accidentally reveal their relationship to the public because she walked in on him doing a vlive and now netizens and kmedia are tearing apart her appearance because y/n is chubby from struggling with pcos. jungkook takes it upon himself to cheer her up because he absolutely adores her.

40. morning with jk by @min-arya | f

- jungkook drabble of him catching his s/o admiring him in the morning with soft sleepy cuddles.

41. even a forest fire dies out by @9uk | a s

- it became from “grab a coffee with me?” to “why should I grab a coffee with you?” too fast for your liking. you had thought the both of you were so in love with each other—only to realise it was only you who had fallen into this trap of feelings. and as for jungkook, he might have just been as confused as you are.

42. all that we had by @starlightauroras-writes | a s

- four years, two months and five days ago, you lost the love of your life with no explanation. living with a failed marriage at such a young age without knowing why was impossibly hard, and when you’re invited to your high school reunion, knowing he would be there, you really don’t want to go. what happens when you do leaves you questioning fate.

43. aquarium by @whatifyoulivelikethat | // a

- life after jeon jungkook was grey. you had to find your own color, grow your own rainbow. but what would surprise you the most is the appearance of white cosmos, seven of them clutched tightly in kim taehyung’s hand.

44. contentment by @btsqualityy | f s

- oc’s using jk’s card to buy rug and the rest is history. 10/10!!

45. heartbreaker with a heart of gold by @filmflowersbangtan | a s

- love this!!! you know i love me some angst! 10/10!!!!!

46. the ikea test by @mercurygguk | f

- you and jeongguk face the IKEA test. successfully? sure!

47. before you universe by @ephemeralkookie | // a f s

- jungkook has taken a huge place in your life after he tattooed you, and you can’t even picture how life was before him. he has always been there for you since day one. but how will things change after you find out you’re pregnant?

48. christmas cream(pie) by @smoochkooks | s f

- a day before christmas dinner with your boyfriend’s parents, you discover another alternative way to use the chocolate cream you’re making. jungkook is more than willing to indulge in your little fantasy.

49. last minute by @moononthejoon | f s

- christmas day had gone by, and now you were back home after holidays with your family. your friends had agreed to have a late christmas party, but as always, you and jungkook procrastinated gift buying.

50. you go in knowing bros together by @blu-joons | f

- a cute fluffy knowing at knowing bros moment.

51. no title by @v-hope | f

- the way y/n would react when someone else flirts with jk and how he’d handle the situation.

52. hair dye by @mercurygguk | f s

- jungkook got his hair dyed while at work. you lose your mind the moment he steps through the door.

53. stay gold by @yeojaa | s

- blond!jk being a good boy?

54. crystal snow by @honeyj00ns | f

- when you join Jungkook and the rest of the guys for some fun in the snow, he can’t help but feel jealous.

55. 6:21 am by @sincerelyourfangirl | f

- in which he makes your morning extra special.

56. plan b by @btsracket | s

- dressing room quickie, unprotected sex request, use of Plan b pill

57. possession by @bngtanah | s

- jungkook is your boyfriend, sometimes you have to remind him what that means.

58. puffs and touches by @mintseesaw | f s

- “Stop doing that with your face, someone else is going to snatch you up”

59. the quiet things by @btsracket | s

- sleeping bag sex.

60. good boy by @ephemeralkookie | s

- secret, read to find out AHAHAHHA.

61. make it right by @jungkxook | a s

- you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

62. it takes two by @junghelioseok | s

- struggling with the idea of your ex-boyfriend moving on, you enlist the help of your quiet roommate in a scheme that quickly spirals out of control.

jimin

1. picking petals by @cutechim | s

- you asked for a baby, so a baby is what you’re going to get.

taehyung

1. daddy by @btsracket | f s

- there’s only one choice when this happens on a date out.

2. love me or we both go down by @gukyi | f s a

- after going through with an arranged marriage to please his parents and secure his inheritance of the family business, kim taehyung thinks he’s got it all figured out. he doesn’t. apparently just being married to you isn’t enough, not when everybody and their mother can pick up on the fact that the two of you absolutely loathe each other. but taehyung wants his inheritance one way or another, so he decides that desperate times call for desperate measures: the two of you need to fall in love, and you need to fall in love fast.

3. saudade by @jiminssthetic | a s f

- a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it’s time to find out why.

4. ineffable by @99liners | f

- boyfriend taehyung takes care of his sick s/o.

5. tease by @caiuscassiuss | s

- you knew you were hot. you saw how the guys looked at you, how their eyes were drawn to a tight t-shirt or short skirt. and maybe this would fail epically—crash and burn like a failed experiment—but you wanted to get under kim taehyung’s skin the only way you knew how.

6. aquarium by @whatifyoulivelikethat | // a

got7

yugyeom

1. yugyeom as you boyfriend by @sunshinekookie | f

- i need more yugyeom fics in my life.

astro

eunwoo

1. rainy say saviour by @imsarahbum | f a

- upon seeing you getting bullied after school for being short, dongmin can’t help but step in and defend you - despite both of you not really knowing anything about each other.

anyway, thank you again for the writers please take care and be safe!

please free to recommend your favorite fic that i haven’t feature yet.

if the links won’t work and i labelled some fics wrong please let me know and i’ll try to fix it as soon as possible!

support the fic and the writers!

1K notes · View notes

atlafan · 4 years ago

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Part One - “Call me Jane.”

a/n: here’s part one of nanny!H, I’m very excited about this series. I’m not sure how many parts it’s going to be, so please don’t ask lmao. Once I know how many parts it’ll be, I’ll make a master post for it. I’m just too excited not at least share the first part because Harry is just too cute in this! Feedback and reblogs are super helpful, and keep me motivated, especially when it comes to writing series. (not proofread) You can support me here if you’re able!

Warnings: none...for now

Words: 4.1K

Pairing: Harry x OC (Jane Watson)

Master Post

Harry found himself in a real bind. He was twenty-six years old, had an early childhood education degree, and the daycare he worked at was going under. He had just been promoted a month prior too, how could things go wrong so quickly? Times like this he really hated that he stayed in the states. Childcare services weren’t nearly as fucked up back home. His dream was to save up enough money to open up his own pre-school at some point, but it was really tough.

There was this weird stigma that if adult men wanted to work with babies and toddlers then that made them a pedophile or something of the sort. That wasn’t the case with Harry. His minor in school was psychology because cognitive development intrigued him. He also loved babies and little ones. He loved watching them learn and discover.

Only now, he was without a job in an already struggling field. He and the other employees weren’t exactly given a big notice before they were told the business was going under. Harry mostly felt bad for the parents of the kids that had to find new child care centers. He knew he’d have to compete with his co-workers for any available jobs, and he knew they were bound to find places before him because they were women. It was their fault, and he knew it. He was experiencing a prejudice that they must face all the time.

He looked into Care.com, but none of the jobs on there seemed like long-term gigs, and he didn’t want to just be a glorified baby sitter. He figured if he could find a well paying nannying job, he could do that for a bit until finding a job at a new facility, or even set up his dream pre-school. During his search on Indeed, he saw a position for a live-in nanny – jackpot! Live-in meant long-term, and long-term meant lots of money. It also meant he could get rid of his apartment and not have to pay rent for a while. He clicked on the ad that was posted only a couple of weeks ago.

Live-in Nanny Needed for Help with Eight-Month-Old

Minimum requirements:

· Bachelor’s in either early childhood education or elementary education

· At least two years’ experience working babies/children

Three professional references required

Applicant is subject to thorough background check for the safety of the child and mother.

Other tasks as needed include:

· Cooking

· Light cleaning

· Grocery shopping/running other errands

If applicant is selected, they will be paid a flat rate of $1600 bi-weekly, will live in “in-law” section of the house, and a car will be provided for them. A resume, cover letter, and three professional references may be sent directly to [email protected]

After reading everything over, this seemed like Harry’s best bet. Some of it seemed a little too good to be true, but this was a risk he needed to take right now. He just hoped the position hadn’t already been filled. That night he spent some time updating his LinkedIn, making sure all of his privacy settings were up to date on all of his social media, and then wrote out a resume and cover letter. The last part was his least favorite because he knew a proper resume and cover letter had to be curated to the specific job, and it made things all the more tedious. By the time he was done, it was late. He didn’t want to seem unprofessional, so he waited to send the email until the next morning.

Subject: Nannying Advert on Indeed

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Good morning,

My name is Harry and I’m interested in the nannying advert you’ve posted on Indeed. For the last four years I’ve been working at P.B. & J.’s Child Care Center, and was recently promoted to team lead. Unfortunately, the business itself couldn’t remain afloat, and I was laid off.

Attached are my resume and cover letter. I’d be happy to provide the three references if I end up being considered for the position.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

Harry

Treat People With Kindness

He closes his laptop with a satisfied sigh after proofreading his email ten different times before he hit send. He takes a sip from his coffee, and sits back on his sofa. Now all he had to do was wait.

There was radio silence for two days. Harry was starting to think he would need to keep job hunting. He had bills to pay, and the last thing he wanted to do was ask his parents for help. They already looked down on his profession as it was. If he had his own car he’d become an uber driver or something, but he didn’t so he couldn’t. Then, by some stroke of luck, at 4:55PM on a Thursday, he gets an email from the address he had been hoping to see pop up.

Subject: Re: Nannying Advert on Indeed

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Good evening Harry,

My name is Jane Watson, thank you so much for your application. My apologies it has taken me a couple of days to get back to you. I am usually more responsive, but things have been a little crazy at work as of late. Upon further review of your resume and over letter, I would like to offer you an interview this Saturday at noon, if you are available. I can be flexible if that day and time do not work for you.

If you are able to come, and are still interested in the position, I ask that you please bring your references with you. I will want to call them right away. I am sure you can understand me wanting to thoroughly look into you before letting you into my daughter’s life.

I look forward to hearing back from you soon.

All my best,

Jane

Harry responded to her right away, he didn’t care how eager he seemed. He told her Saturday at noon worked great, and that he would definitely have his references, and anything else he needed to provide. She emailed him back an hour or so later with her cell phone number and address. For the first time in a while, Harry felt like he could breathe again. He knew it wasn’t a done deal that he’d be getting the job, but he was being given a chance, and for that he was thankful.

He wanted to make a good first impression on Saturday, so he made sure to wash his hair in the shower, and use his good mousse so his hair would look more orderly. He shaved to give himself that clean and sleek look, this was not a day to appear scruffy. He knew he didn’t need to be overly dressed up, but he also knew that you’re supposed to dress for the job you want and not the job you have. He irons a pair of tan slacks and pairs it with a blue button up. Not to brag, but his bum looked great in these slacks, and it was giving him all the confidence in the world. He puts on a floral tie, just to show a bit of his personality, makes sure his nail polish isn’t chipped, and makes sure all of his rings are looking shiny. He takes an uber out to Jane’s house. It was in a gated community, which he was expecting since he looked up the house beforehand. He wondered what she or her husband did for work to live in a place like this. Or perhaps she inherited the home? Either way, he was excited.

He thanks the driver, and knocks on the door as he was instructed to do. A woman with silver hair that was up in a nice bun opens the door.

“Hello, you must be Mr. Styles.” She smiles.

“Yes, hello.” He smiles back.

“I’m MaryAnne, please come in.” She steps aside to let Harry in.

“Thank you.”

“Miss Watson is just pumping, but you can wait for her here in her office.” She leads Harry down a corridor where he meets a grand double door. MaryAnne opens them and shows him inside. “Make yourself comfortable, dear. Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, tea?”

“I’m all set, but thank you very much.”

The woman nods and leaves him in the room alone. He stays standing as he didn’t want to assume where he should be sitting. There was a gorgeous desk with two chairs on the other side, but there was also a small round table with four chairs around it in the corner. She clearly held a lot of meetings here, or so it would seem. To pass the time he looks over her bookshelves, scanning over what she might be into. She seemed to be into fiction, but he had never heard of any of the books on some of the shelves, or the author. She had several by the same person. Before he could look further, he heard the clacking of heels on the hardwood floors approaching him.

Everything stopped when she walked in. Jane had her hair up in a flowing ponytail, a white blouse covered her top half, he notices that the first few buttons were left undone, probably to help with her pumping, and she had a black pencil skirt on that just came to her knees. She was short, and a little voluptuous, not that Harry was checking her out.

“Hello, Mr. Styles, I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” He goes to stick his hand out for her to shake, but she walks around him and sits down at her desk. “Please, have a seat.”

He swallows and sits down.

“Y-you can just call me Harry if you like, Mrs. Watson.”

“I’m a Miss not a missus.” She says as she takes out a folder with a few sheets in it and a pen. “It says here you graduated Summa Cum Laude from Lesley University. That’s an incredible place to get a degree in education.”

“Thank you, I got a pretty decent scholarship, it was my reach school. I minored in psychology as well. I did my practicum hours at a daycare center that specialized in caring for children with disabilities. So, I’ve worked with all sorts of children. I prefer working with infants and toddlers, though.”

“And why is that?” She looks at him, clicking her pen, ready to take notes.

“Well, I just have more fun with them, to be honest. I like watching them discover new things. My favorite thing to do while working in the baby room at my last job was working with the babies on their tummy times. It was always rewarding to watch them get stronger. I feel like I just bond with them better.”

“I need to ask you some personal questions since this is a live-in position.”

“Of course.” Harry nods.

“Are you in any sort of relationship with anyone?”

“No, I’m single.”

“Have you ever been arrested, or do you have any sort of criminal history?”

“No.”

“I’m not one to judge, I think everyone deserves a second chance, I just have to ask these sort of things.” She says.

“I don’t have a criminal record, Miss Watson.”

“History of drug use?”

“I smoked a bit of weed when I was younger, but I don’t anymore. An edible once in a while, maybe, but never when I’m on the clock.”

“Just marijuana?”

“I’ve done shrooms a few times, but nothing other than that. Stupid kid stuff.”

“Again, not judging. I’d prefer you don’t have any drugs in the house, unless they’re for medical use. I know edibles can be prescribed by doctors for anxiety and whatnot.” Harry nods at that. “What about alcohol? You’re twenty-six, you must enjoy a drink after a long day.”

“A glass of red once in a while, sure.” He nods. “But I’m not really a heavy drinker, I never have been. I’d say if anything I’m a social drinker, but you watch me carefully at a party you’ll notice that I nurse the same drink.” He smirks.

“I’m the same way. A little bit of a buzz is fun, but anything more can be a bit scary. I actually cannot remember the last time I had a real drink.” She looks off in thought.

“Well, can’t you drink now that the baby’s here?”

“And have to succumb to a pump and dump?” She scoffs. “No way, that would be a total waste. It’s torture enough to sit there while a machine sucks the milk out of my-“ She stops herself. “Sorry.” She shakes her head. “Anyways, your resume was impressive, and you were quite articulate in your cover letter. You’re the only candidate I’ve invited for an interview.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She nods. “I really wanted someone with experience, not someone fresh out of college looking for a place to live. You’d really be okay with living here?”

“Honestly, you’d be doing me a favor. My long-term goal is to either have a daycare or pre-school of my own someday. Not having to pay rent for a while would really help me save up for that.”

“That’s an incredible goal to have, Harry.” She smiles, impressed by his ambition. “What questions do you have for me?”

“I just want to clarify, your daughter is eight months?” Jane nods. “And what’s her name?”

“Lilly.” Jane smiles.

“That’s a beautiful name.” Harry smiles. “Why exactly do you need a live-in nanny?”

“I work a lot.” She sighs. “And I’m a single mom. I want her to always have someone here that she can depend on and feel comfortable with. Sometimes my work drags me out in the middle of the night, or I have to take a phone call at an odd hour. I just want someone else here in case I can’t be if something comes up.”

“So, her father’s not in the picture?”

“No.” Her features sour a bit. “He doesn’t even know she exists to be perfectly honest with you. I found out I was pregnant after we broke up, and I decided not to tell him about her. He was a deadbeat moocher, he would have been useless.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but thank you for telling me. May I ask, how old are you?”

“Twenty-nine, does that matter?”

“No! No, I was just more so curious. You seem pretty successful to be in a home like this. In the advert, you stated I’d be given a car as well, that’s not exactly cheap.”

“You’ll be given access to one of my cars.” She says. “I’m not giving you a car, make no mistake about that.” She smirks. “I’m an author, a successful one.” Harry tries to think if he’s ever heard of a Jane Watson before, but he’s coming up blank. “You’ve never heard of me because I have a pen name. If it’s all the same, I don’t really want to share it with you. Not yet, anyways.”

“Sure…wait…are you offering me the job?”

“Not quite. I’d like you to meet my daughter. I want to see how she interacts with you.”

“I’d love to meet Lilly.” He smiles.

“Great, before we do that, do you have more questions?”

“Yes, who’s MaryAnne? Is she, like, a maid or housekeeper?”

“No.” Jane laughs. “She’s my personal assistant. I usually answer the door myself, but pumping took a bit longer than usual.”

“When did you publish your first work?”

“When I was twenty.” She smiles. “I was still in school, and I decided just to self-publish. It took off, and a few companies reached out to me. I eventually got an agent, and the rest was history. I’m a fast writer, I’m able to churn out more projects than most people, and for whatever reason they keep becoming hits. One of the reasons I travel a lot is that a couple of my works are being turned into television shows, and working out those contracts is a lot. I want to be a part of the process to make sure the stories are told correctly.”

“That’s incredible!”

“it is.” She nods. “I never thought I’d be a television producer, but here I am. I don’t really want Lilly around all that, so there’s another reason for having a live-in nanny.”

“This may seem like a silly question, but will I have time off?”

“Oh my goodness, of course! The salary is negotiable as well. You’ll have weekends off, as well as all bank and national holidays. You’ll also earn vacation time and sick leave like at any other job. You’ll be given a benefits package as well, if you need health insurance.”

“You…you provide stuff like that?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“I’ve just never heard of a nannying job quite like this before.” He blinks. “It feels too good to be true.”

“I’m just a firm believer in compensating someone properly. I believe in investing in the people you have.”

“Right.” He swallows. He almost starting to feel like he was going to be her sugar baby or something, but he obviously knew that wasn’t the case. “You asked me about my dating life, what about yours?”

“I’m also single. Lilly is my top priority, and then comes my work. I’m completely fulfilled as is.” She stands from her desk. “Come, I’ll give you a tour of the house, and of the in-law space, and then you can meet Lilly.”

“Okay.” He stands up and follows her out of the office.

She shows him the living room, which felt more like a study. There was an entertainment room with a huge flat screen, deluxe loungers, a pool table, and bar. She shows him to the kitchen which was equally as extravagant. She brings him upstairs to show him all of the bedrooms.

“This is Lilly’s room.” Jane says proudly.

“it’s beautiful, I love the light purple.”

“So do I.” She says. “My room is down the hall, don’t think you need a tour of that.” She laughs and they head back downstairs. “Here’s the inside entrance to the in-law, but there’s also an exterior entrance you can use…or if you have guests over.” Harry’s in awe of the space. It was larger than his apartment. “It’s a one bedroom flat essentially. There’s a full bath en suite, and there’s a half bath over there. Open concept kitchen and living area. It’s fully furnished as well. Feel free to decorate it however you like. I just ask that this space stays yours. There’s really no reason for you to bring Lilly in here, you know?”

“Sure, yeah. This is amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it. Let’s just hope Lilly like you.” Jane smirks, and they head back to the main part of the house, and into Lilly’s playroom. She was sitting with MaryAnne in a large rocking chair. “M, you can feel free to go back to your office if you like. Harry’s going to get acquainted with Lilly.”

“Of course.” MaryAnne stands up with the baby, and hands her over to Jane.

“She has an office here too?” Harry asks.

“Of course she does, and one of the guest rooms upstairs is hers to use when she needs it.” She kisses the top of her daughter’s head. “Lilly,” she coos, “I have someone I’d like you to meet.” She gestures for Harry to take her, and he happily does so.

“Hey, baby girl.” Harry coos. Bright hazel eyes look up at him in wonder. He lets her latch onto his index finger. “It’s so nice to meet you.” He looks at Jane. “She’s precious, Miss Watson.”

“Isn’t she?” Jane beams. “She’s really been enjoying her bouncy, and messing around with her blocks. I have some CD’s I like having her listen to as well. Oh! We did a paint with pudding night as a sensory play thing, it was a hoot.” She chuckles.

“Those are great, aren’t they? Very stimulating, and it teaches the child that sometimes messes are okay.” He looks down at Lilly and smiles. “May I sit with her in the rocking chair?”

“Please!” She gestures to it, and she sits down on the loveseat in the room. Harry sits down with Lilly, cradling her carefully. He adjusts her so she’s able to stand on his lap. She bounces herself and giggles. “Look at that!” Jane exclaims. “I love it when she does that.”

“She’s awfully sweet.” Harry smiles, and then he looks at Jane. “How much do you feed her?”

“I give her roughly twenty-four to thirty-two ounces a day. You’ll know how hungry she is or isn’t in the moment. I’ve started giving her pureed butternut squash, mashed bananas and strawberries, she’s got that puffed baby cereal as well. I’ve also started giving her ground chicken in really small doses just to get her some protein, but right now I’ve mostly been sticking to fruits and veggies. You must know a lot about what foods to give a baby?”

“I do.” He nods. “You’re still producing that much milk to give her daily?”

“I’ve almost been wishing I’d dry up. I get so sore somedays.” Jane sighs. “But I figure it’s good for her to have it while I can still make it. I’m not opposed to formular or anything…but I like bonding with her in that way. I got rid of her baby acne by rubbing my nipple on her skin, it was like magic.”

“It’s certainly a trick of the trade.” He smirks at her. “I remember learning that in one of my courses, and I was amazed. You all are super humans.”

Jane watches Harry play on the ground with Lilly for a bit. Harry was already so wonderful with her. Harry starts to smell something, and so does Jane.

“Think it’s time for a diaper change.” He chuckles and picks her up. “Would you like me to change her?”

“Yeah, I’d like to see you do it.”

He brings Lilly over to the changing table, and lays her down.

“I know you’re all warm and cozy, but I need to disrupt that for a moment.” He says to the baby girl who was babbling and blowing little spit bubbles, totally unbothered. Harry unsnaps her onesie, and lifts her legs to detach the diaper. His eyes widen at the type of diaper that’s on her. “You cloth diaper?” He looks at Jane.

“It’s better for the environment.” She shrugs. “There’s a trashcan for the…um, poop, and there’s another can for the diapers. I give her a regular diaper for bedtime just because it’s easier to change her in the middle of the night and in the morning, but daytime I use the cloth diapers.”

“Makes sense to me.” Harry disposes of everything, and grabs a few wipes to clean Lilly up. She took a powerful stinky.

“I blame it on the pureed peas.” Jane laughs.

“It doesn’t even phase me anymore, honestly.” Harry says as he gets a little baby powder on her. He grabs a spare cloth diaper, and gets it on her. He snaps her onesie back together and lifts her up. “There we go, good as new, darling girl.” Lilly blows some bubbles at Harry, and blows some back, making her giggle. Jane beams at the two of them.

“It’s about time for her afternoon nap. Would you like to put her down?”

“I’d love to.”

Harry carries Lilly upstairs with Jane. She flips on Lilly’s white noise machine, and makes sure her favorite blankies are in the crib. Harry sits down in the large chair in the corner of the room and starts to rock her gently, giving her soothing rubs. Jane watches as Lilly’s eyelids start to droop. She fights it at first, but Harry continues to soothe her until she’s out like a light. He carefully stands up and sets her down into her crib. The two back out of the room quietly, and make their way down the stairs.

“Let’s go back to my office.” Jane says, and Harry follows her there. Once they’re both seated, she starts speaking again. “Well, the job is yours if you want it.”

“Really?” Harry felt every worry from his life leave his body.

“Yes.” She chuckles. “You’ve really impressed me, and I think Lilly’s quite taken with you already. I’d love to have you as her nanny.” She takes out a few forms. “May I have your references? The background check will take about a week. How soon could you start after that?”

“Right away, honestly.” He hands her a sheet with his references.

“Here are the tax forms you’ll need to fill out, a form for direct deposit, and some information on your benefits. You can get everything back to me by the end of next week.”

“I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity, I’m so excited. I can’t wait to get started, Miss Watson.” He stands to shake her hand, and she stands as she takes it.

“Please, you can call me Jane.”

#love's divine #love's divine part one #call me jane #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles series #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x oc #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #nanny!Harry #nanny!H #nannerry

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kurokoros · 4 years ago

Text

spider lily | part one

Rated: M (violence, language, etc)

Words: 7K

Pairing: kuroo x fem!reader/oc?

Summary: No one can outrun the past. Kuroo already knew that before he started bounty hunting. [cowboy bebop!au]

AN: Written for the @the-smut-pile’s western!au collab. This is barely a western, but the word “cowboy” is used so it counts. This fic is going to be multiple parts. The romance doesn’t come in for a while, just a heads up. I’m sure there’s more I meant to say here, but my brain is mush. I wrote most of this in the last three days and need a nap lmao

The dealer is watching him.

Eyes burn into his back as the bartender sets another glass of whiskey in front of Kuroo. In the mirror above the bar, Kuroo watches as one of the players, a middle-aged man with a cigar, requests another card. The dealer flips the card, revealing a Jack, and the man curses. A bust.

The dealer ignores the seething player, a look of boredom on his face. He’s thin, his hair parted to the right. Early twenties at best, but his eyes are tired and apathetic as they start to wander around the room.

It’s subtle. The dealer’s gaze doesn’t linger on Kuroo for long—it almost doesn’t linger at all, a stutter in that smooth glance around the room. If he wasn’t waiting for it, he might have missed it. But Kuroo has been painfully obvious tonight, making a show out of staring in that mirror every time a new card is drawn before making his move. It was bound to catch someone’s attention eventually. He just thought it would be sooner.

Kuroo spins the blackjack chip in front of him. White and turquoise blur together as the piece of ceramic whirls around on its edge. Gold glints under the dim lights above him.

A waitress passes the blackjack table behind him. The dealer glances at her. His mouth moves. His chin dips towards the bar where Kuroo is sitting.

“Kuroo.” Static crackles in his ear. His fingers twitch, seizing around the still spinning poker chip. It comes to an abrupt halt. Topples onto its side. With a sigh, he rests his elbow on the counter, props his chin up on his palm, and brings his drink to his mouth. “Anything?”

The whiskey burns in the back of his throat. “Not yet,” he says under his breath, glancing at the bartender to make sure he’s distracted. His fingers brush against the studs in his ear, following the steel bar attached to one of them until he reaches the attached earbud.

A disgruntled sound buzzes through the miniature speaker in his ear. “Then what are we wasting our time here for?” Tsukishima demands. The words aren’t minced, irritation mixed with his typical haughty tone.

“Getting bored out there, Kei?” Kuroo asks the younger man, keeping his tone light and amused. He specifically uses his first name, goading him. “I told you to come inside earlier. You still can. Unless you’d prefer to sit in the ship and sulk.” He takes another drink. “Besides, haven’t I told you to be patient?”

Tsukishima is silent on the other end.

The lapse in conversation stretches out. Kuroo’s gaze trails away from the card table behind him as he seeks out the rest of his crew in the reflection of the mirror over the bar. They’re still waiting where he left them, on opposite sides of the gambling floor. Akaashi is tucked close to the back wall, nursing his own drink and casually watching a game of poker, making no move to play himself like Kuroo has in the hour they’ve been here already. On the other end of the room, Bokuto is eyeing one of the card tables, starting to wander away from the slot machines and naturally gravitate towards the center of the room where a larger game of poker is being played. The prize pool has been steadily growing, attracting more attention as the night wears on.

They just have to wait a little longer for their target to show.

Eventually, Tsukishima huffs. “How do you even know Ikeda will be here tonight? He’s running. There’s no point in going to a high-traffic casino.”

Kuroo’s eyes narrow at the snappish tone, but he decides to let it slide for now. “Source said he’s headed this way,” he reminds Tsukishima. “You don’t come this close to Titan without stopping by Blue Castle. Not with a pool like that on the line.” He glances at the table Bokuto has been eyeing. “It’s up to a couple hundred grand already. He’s desperate for cash. Places like this don’t ask questions. Don’t give a shit so long as the house keeps winning.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

He shrugs, gaze wandering away from Bokuto. “Guess we’re fucked for a while.”

Tsukishima snorts. “How reassuring.”

Movement catches Kuroo’s eye in the corner of the mirror before he can ready a retort. There’s a man with dark hair shoving his way through the crowd of people gathered on the gambling floor. No, not shoving. The crowd is parting for him, scurrying out of his way as he storms across the room. Expression set in a scowl. A scowl that’s locked on Kuroo’s back.

Right on time.

He drops his hand from his face, sitting up straighter on the stool as the man comes closer. “Seems like security is finally coming to get me,” he tells Tsukishima off-handedly, abruptly ending the conversation. “Oh, and tell Kou to stop eyeing that table. His poker face is shit.”

Tsukishima pauses, like he wants to ask Kuroo what he’s talking about, but decides it’s simply not worth the effort. A grumbled response eventually comes over the radio, but Kuroo has already stopped listening. Low static buzzes in his ear as Tsukishima switches channels on his headset.

For once, he’s glad for Tsukishima’s lack of interest, though it isn’t bound to last long.

Kuroo grins into his drink as the man drops onto the stool beside him not a moment later. “About time someone got you, Iwa.” He tilts his head to the side, lazy gaze meeting a familiar stern expression. Green eyes glare back at him, and his smile widens. “I was about to bring the house down.”

A snort. “Like hell I’d let you walk away with that much,” Iwaizumi tells him. The tension in his clenched jaw loosens, but the scowl stays, and it doesn’t make him look any less disheveled. His clothes are rumpled. Shirt buttoned haphazardly; the sleeves rolled up. Iwaizumi jerks his chin towards the chip Kuroo has gone back to idly toying with in his free hand. “What are you up to anyway? Hundred thousand?”

He leans forward to look past Kuroo and braces his elbows on the counter, gesturing to catch the bartender’s attention.

“Two,” Kuroo corrects, glancing at his acquaintance. “What can I say? I’ve always had good luck.”

That gets him a chuckle. Though, it’s more disbelieving than amused. “Bullshit.” Iwaizumi shakes his head. A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Counting cards doesn’t make you lucky.”

Kuroo shrugs, a wicked glint in his gold eyes. “Not getting caught does.”

The corner of Iwaizumi’s mouth twitches. “Yeah? How’d that work out tonight?”

“I’m still winning.”

The bartender places a drink down in front of Iwaizumi without a word, though he hesitates on the other side of the bar. A curious gaze strays towards Kuroo. The young man flinches when gold eyes snap up to meet his.

“On the rocks?” Kuroo comments as the bartender is called away by another patron. He watches the man leave, aware of the gazes lingering on him now that Iwaizumi is here. Bokuto must have mentioned the other man’s presence to Tsukishima because that familiar buzzing sound vibrates in his ear. “Didn’t think you’d be one to drink on the job. What would he say about that?”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes as he downs half the drink. The single ball of ice clinks against the edge of the glass. Kuroo watches it bob in the amber liquid. “I put up with his dumb ass twelve hours a day. He owes me this much.”

“That why you look like shit?” Kuroo asks, giving him another once-over. He smirks when he sees something he hadn’t noticed before. “That shade of red looks good on you, by the way.” He gestures to the lipstick stains half-hidden behind Iwaizumi’s collar, low on the side of his throat. “Sorry to interrupt whatever you were doing.”

“Piss off.” Iwaizumi glares at him, flustered. A flush starts to creep up his neck, but it doesn’t get under his skin the way Kuroo wants it to. They’ve known each other too long for that. “What are you doing here, Kuroo?”

He takes some satisfaction in how quickly Iwaizumi changes the subject. Pleasantries gone.

Flicking the rim of his glass, Kuroo wonders how much he should say right now, mindful of the audience listening. “Passing through,” he finally settles on, watching the ice in his own drink bob. He sends Iwaizumi a pointed look. “Hopefully, we won’t be here long.”

“We?” Iwaizumi repeats, eyes narrowing as he furrows his brow. It dawns on him a second later. “You’re here on a job. Fuck.”

The glare aimed at Kuroo doesn’t soften as he waves off Iwaizumi’s concern. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Tell him that,” Iwaizumi spits back at him. He leans back on his stool, rubbing his temple. “You’re lucky Kunimi sent the waitress to me and not Kyoutani.”

Tsukishima is silent over the headset, but Kuroo knows the younger man has been listening intently since he got back, just in case Kuroo slips up and says something he shouldn’t. But Kuroo has practice. There’s always someone listening.

Kuroo taps the blackjack chip on the bar counter, tracing the Blue Castle written across the coin in an elegant scrawl. “Blond guy in the back?” With a twist of his fingers, he sends the chip spinning again. “He’s been watching me since I walked in. Looks like he wants to kick my ass.”

“You’d deserve it.” Iwaizumi looks at Kuroo. “You gonna make this easy for me?”

The chip stops spinning and falls on its side with a quiet clatter. A turquoise crown is printed in the center.

“Why not?” Glancing in the mirror one last time, Kuroo makes eye contact with Akaashi. Static buzzes in his ear, the radio crackling again. Before Tsukishima can speak, Kuroo casually flicks the switch on his headset, silencing the static. He downs the rest of his drink and slides off the stool with a lazy stretch. “It’s been a while since I saw the Great King.”

Iwaizumi leads him to the elevator.

Neither speak as they wait for it to reach the bottom floor. Kuroo takes a subtle glance around the room. The blond that Iwaizumi mentioned—Kyoutani—is still watching him. So are Akaashi and Bokuto, who have strayed from their positions closer to the door. While Bokuto seems more confused than concerned, there’s an uneasy look on Akaashi’s face. His mouth moves as he speaks to Tsukishima over his earpiece. Kuroo doesn’t bother trying to read his lips.

The ding of the elevator draws Kuroo’s attention back to Iwaizumi, who waits for him to enter the box first.

It’s been a while since Kuroo has been in Blue Castle, but as his gaze roams the panels of heavy glass surrounding the box, he figures not much has changed. The elevator juts from the main building. Three walls made of Saturn glass that reflect the neon lights from streets below. The doors slide shut as Iwaizumi follows him inside, and Kuroo leans against the wall, head tilted back. The ceiling is made of glass too.

From here, he can just barely see the stars.

Iwaizumi fishes a set of keys from his pocket. Thumbing through them, he stops when he finds the one he’s looking for: small and silver, a crown etched onto the side. The key slots into a lock at the bottom of the button panel, and the button for the fourth floor glows blue when Iwaizumi turns it.

Kuroo glances at the other man as the elevator starts to move, hands casually slipping into the pockets of his suit jacket. “Is there going to be a gun pointed at my head when I get to the top floor?”

“No promises,” Iwaizumi says, leaning back against the wall as well. The muscles in his jaw clench as he rubs the back of his neck. The lipstick stains on his neck are smeared, not nearly as noticeable as they were before. “You know how he is.”

Leaning in closer, Kuroo squints his eyes, a sly grin on his face. “You missed a spot,” he tells Iwaizumi, who glares at him.

“Fuck off.”

Kuroo’s chuckle is cut off by the doors to the fourth floor opening in front of them. There are no guns pointed at him. No guards. No dogs. Just an empty hallway leading to a set of double doors.

He hopes his shoes scuff the ridiculous marble floors as he follows Iwaizumi out of the elevator. They’re startling white, inlaid with streaks of gold.

Iwaizumi doesn’t bother knocking on the doors. He shoves them open wide, grumbling something under his breath that Kuroo doesn’t pay much attention to, immediately focused on the wall of windows across the room and the man perched behind the large, white desk centered in front of them.

He’s sprawled lazily in his chair, slumped against his desk, and unsurprised by their sudden arrival. “You truly have no tact, Hajime,” he complains, sighing as his head of security enters the room. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes as the other man runs a hand through his brunet bangs. “Though, I suppose that can’t be helped.” His lips curl into a practiced smile when his dark eyes land on Kuroo, his expression brightening as he lifts his head from where it was cradled in his hand.

“Oikawa.”

“Kuroo.” The returned greeting is clipped. Oikawa sits up straighter behind his desk. “What a surprise.” He raises an eyebrow, silently observing his old acquaintance, his stare critical as he looks over Kuroo’s rumpled suit: jacket left unbuttoned and tie loose around his neck. “You look like shit,” he says, as Iwaizumi closes the set of doors and leans against the wall beside them.

Kuroo huffs. “Good to see you too,” he responds, sarcasm thick on his tongue as he walks further into the office, eyes wandering around the space.

It’s open. Clean. Decorated in blues and whites and golds. Expensive, but not tacky. Even Oikawa is wearing a nice blue button-up, looking more presentable than either Kuroo or Iwaizumi. The man in question slides his work aside, gesturing for Kuroo to sit in one of the sleek armchairs in front of him.

“How long has it been since we saw each other?” Oikawa asks him, clasping his hands together on his desk, head tilted to one side in thought.

“Almost two years.” Kuroo eyes the chair before sitting on it and stretching out like an overgrown housecat. “Back on Ganymede. When everything was going to shit.”

Oikawa hums low under his breath. His gaze seems to darken with the memory. The room feels colder suddenly. Heavier. Oikawa watches as Kuroo absently spins one of the rings decorating his fingers. He changes the subject. “You’re working with a team now. I suppose you always were a natural leader.”

Kuroo shrugs—grits his teeth. “I keep picking up strays. Bad habit.” He nods towards the paperwork shoved to one side of the desk, piles in various states of disarray. A small crack in the façade Oikawa likes to put on. “How’s the casino these days?”

It doesn’t catch him off guard like Kuroo hoped. Oikawa’s brows furrow, his smile slipping. “You don’t care about my business ventures.”

“You don’t care who I’m working with so long as they aren’t after you,” Kuroo counters.

The stare Oikawa levels him with is matched by Kuroo’s own, gold and brown clashing. It’s Oikawa who backs down first, though Kuroo knows better than to call it a win. “Fair enough,” he concedes. “Now, are you really going to make me ask why you’re here?”

“Bounty’s for some guy named Ikeda,” Kuroo tells him. “From what I’ve heard, he was a dealer for some kingpin on Callisto who took over within the last year, after the Widow Maker Conflict.” Kuroo’s eyes narrow. “He made off with four-hundred-thousand worth of some shit called Paradise. Nasty hallucinogenic. Some places are calling it Reaper. I don’t know much about it yet.”

Oikawa and Iwaizumi exchange a look over Kuroo’s shoulder. “So, the kingpin wants this Ikeda taken out?”

“No.” Kuroo shakes his head. “ISSP put out the bounty because they think he’ll talk. They want to get rid of this shit before one of the Mars’ Syndicates gets ahold of it. Bounty is set at over half a million right now.”

Iwaizumi scoffs by the door, arms folded across his chest. “They think the Syndicates don’t already? Dumb fucks.”

The sneered comment is followed by stark silence.

Behind his desk, Oikawa sighs. “I see,” he mutters. What little of his smile was left falls away, his lips pressing into a thin line. “The bounty does make it harder for the dealers to put out a hit instead. Too many people will be looking for one man. Once this Paradise ends up with one of the Syndicates, it’ll practically be untouchable. It makes sense they’d put out such a high bounty for it. Why do you think he’s coming here?”

“That pool downstairs is at almost five hundred thousand, right?”

This time, Iwaizumi outright laughs. “Ikeda thinks they’ll let him pay it back? They’ll make him bite the curb. Poor bastard’s good as dead already. If the kingpin doesn’t take him out now, one of the Syndicates will after he’s already in custody.”

“We got here early thanks to a tip from a friend of mine,” Kuroo explains, looking out the window. “As of about five minutes ago, every bounty hunter in the area is headed this way. By the time they get here, my crew downstairs will have caught Ikeda and left for the Juno station. Titan is going to be crawling with bounty hunters before long,” he tacks on. “And you don’t come to Titan without��”

“Without stopping at Blue Castle,” Oikawa finishes for him, tone dry. He rolls his eyes. “I’m aware.”

Kuroo leans back further in his seat, a grin already tugging at the corner of his mouth. There are no ships in sight yet, but he knows better than to think they aren’t coming. “With no bounty left, they’ll have nothing better to do but drink and play blackjack.”

Oikawa doesn’t look convinced. “They’ll be broke,” he says simply. “All of you bounty hunters are. What good does that do me?”

“It’s not my problem if they don’t know when to quit.” His golden eyes cut away from the window, catlike gaze settling on Oikawa. “Besides, when has that ever stopped you from letting someone rack up a gambling debt before?” Kuroo asks.

“I paid off yours, didn’t I?” Oikawa throws out casually, gaining a scowl from Kuroo in response. He ignores it, glancing down at his paperwork instead, then at Iwaizumi, before returning his attention to the bounty hunter on the other side of his desk. “And why wouldn’t I go after the bounty myself if he’s worth that much?”

Kuroo’s response is immediate. “You don’t like to get your hands dirty unless you need to. This one isn’t worth your time.” He shifts his weight on the chair, grinning. “And you still owe me a favor from back then.”

This time, Oikawa frowns. His eyes narrow in irritation. “I thought we settled that back on Ganymede?”

“You owed me two.”

Iwaizumi snorts, grinning as Oikawa sends him a withering look.

Instead of arguing like Kuroo expects, Oikawa pauses as he considers what Kuroo has told him so far. It does make sense. The bounty isn’t worth it to him, not when he’s unprepared. Even so.

“Why didn’t you join the poker game downstairs?” he asks. “The pool right now is more than your cut of the bounty. You could have taken it and run. Left someone else to deal with the bounty. It would have been easy for you.”

Kuroo smirks. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Oikawa clasps his hands together, fingers linking together. “What exactly are you planning, Kuroo?” he asks, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hands.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Kuroo promises.

“Somehow, I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t have to.” He shrugs. “All I’m asking is for your boys to stay out of my way.”

A pause. Oikawa is still frowning at him. “And if they don’t?”

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi cuts in again. He still hasn’t moved from the spot he took up near the doors, staying out of it but remaining close. Just in case. Kuroo and Oikawa are too similar sometimes. Slick-tongued. Both of them piss Iwaizumi off like that. “It saves us a mess to clean up ourselves. Besides, business is business.”

Oikawa purses his lips, acknowledging Iwaizumi, but keeping his gaze firmly on Kuroo.

Instead of answering, Kuroo reaches under his jacket. Iwaizumi tenses where he’s leaning up against the wall, but before he can reach for his gun, Kuroo places a stack of blackjack chips on Oikawa’s desk and slides them across. Over a dozen ten-thousand-dollar chips clatter against the wood. “The house always wins, right?”

Oikawa lets him leave, dark brown eyes trailing after Kuroo as he heads for the door.

He stops beside Iwaizumi. “There is one more thing.”

“Oh?” Oikawa muses. “And what’s that?”

The ground floor is still bustling with activity when Kuroo and Iwaizumi step out of the elevator. A quick glance around the room tells Kuroo he hasn’t missed much. The all-in poker game hasn’t started yet, but there are more people milling around now, lingering closer to the middle of the room. He doesn’t see Ikeda, not yet anyway. It won’t be long until he crawls out of whatever hole he’s hidden away in.

He just hopes that’s before more bounty hunters start showing up. Despite what he told Oikawa, Kuroo isn’t so foolish as to think he’s the only bounty hunter with friends in the ISSP. If he wasn’t already headed towards Titan, they might have been too late getting here.

Catching sight of Bokuto’s hair in the crowd below, Kuroo claps Iwaizumi on the shoulder. “Until next time,” he says, offering the other man a parting grin. “Also, I should probably warn you that Bokuto tends to break things. I’m sure Oikawa won’t mind paying for the damages himself, of course. As part of that favor.”

“Fuck off.”

Iwaizumi shakes Kuroo off, much to his delight, and he chuckles as he heads back towards the bar he’s supposed to be posted at. He doesn’t make it far before he pauses, hesitating before he reaches the floor. Iwaizumi quirks a brow at Kuroo’s behavior but watches silently as the other man stands there for a moment, only a few feet away from Iwaizumi. “Hey, Hajime?” Kuroo calls over his shoulder without turning around. “Thanks.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Whatever, space cowboy.” Leaving Kuroo there, he turns towards the back of the room where Kyoutani is posted. “Don’t go gettin’ yourself killed now.”

An amused huff slips past Kuroo’s mouth. “No promises,” he says under his breath.

It’s not until he makes it back onto the gambling floor that Kuroo switches his earphone back on. Predictably, white noise fills his left ear. That static sound ends when a furious voice breaks through.

“What the hell was that?” Tsukishima sneers at him, louder than usual. Kuroo wasn’t gone long. Fifteen minutes at most. But it was just long enough to piss the younger man off. “Why did you cut me—”

“Tell Kou and Keiji to get back into position and wait for my signal,” he says, calmly cutting Tsukishima off. “And then connect all of the lines. If you’re going to stay outside, make sure you have eyes on the front at all times. The final pool starts in about twenty minutes. Everyone is all-in. Ikeda will be here for it.”

Tsukishima is quiet for a long time. Kuroo knows he’s pissed the younger man off, but right now, he doesn’t care.

The radio in his ear crackles one more time. “Fine.”

It’s easy to drown out the chatter in his ear as he sits at the bar. Bokuto’s voice fades into background noise, Akaashi’s occasionally filtering through as he responds to his partner. Tsukishima hasn’t spoken since he linked the coms, still pissed at Kuroo.

He’ll have to deal with that later.

Sighing, Kuroo runs his fingers through his hair and leans back.

A whiskey glass clinks against the counter in front of him. Kuroo’s gaze jumps towards the sound. Ice bobs in the glass. Slowly, his hand falls away from his head. A frown tugs at his mouth.

The same bartender from before stands across from him. Under Kuroo’s gaze, he shifts his weight back and forth on his feet. “It’s on the house,” he says as Kuroo raises an eyebrow at the drink he didn’t order. “Enjoy.”

Kuroo stares at the glass for a moment, but he doesn’t dwell on it. If Oikawa wants to waste good liquor on him, who is he to complain about it?

Raising the glass to his mouth, he takes a drink. The taste that bursts across his tongue almost makes him choke. Kuroo struggles not to laugh, biting his lip to keep from coughing.

Apple juice.

“Bastard,” he mumbles, a small smile tugging at his lips as he shakes his head.

It must be just loud enough for the microphone to catch, because Bokuto’s idle chatter cuts off abruptly. White-noise buzzes in his ear before Bokuto calls out, “Kuro?” A glance in the mirror shows that Bokuto is already looking at him from across the room, head cocked to one side curiously.

“It’s nothing,” Kuroo says, brushing him off. “Try not to break too much tonight, Kou. It’s coming out of your cut this time.”

The sudden shift in topic makes Bokuto gasp, his pride on the line. But before Bokuto can whine about being called out for occasionally being destructive, Tsukishima speaks up, his familiar bored tone smooth over the speaker in his ear.

“Kuroo,” he says nonchalantly. “Ikeda is here.”

Using the mirror, Kuroo scans the room. At the very edge of the glass, Kuroo catches a glimpse of a thin man with mousy brown hair standing near the entrance, eyes darting around the room. He’s making himself more obvious than Kuroo was. Jittery. The kind that brings problems with him where he goes. Even if he hadn’t warned Iwaizumi and Oikawa, they would have noticed him themselves immediately.

“I see him. Three o’clock.” The others call affirmatives once they have eyes on their target, and Kuroo mulls over what they should do. They need to get out of here quickly. Once more bounty hunters arrive at Blue Castle, they’ll be in trouble. “Bokuto. Akaashi.”

“Want us to cut him off?”

Kuroo shakes his head. “No. Let him get close. We don’t want him running.” He doesn’t dare face Ikeda directly; he looks jumpy enough to take off if he notices. Instead, he follows him in the mirror. Just like he told Oikawa, the bounty heads straight for the counter, exchanging what little cash he has for Blue Castle chips. He’s closest to Bokuto, still lingering near the poker tables. “Kei, is there anyone following him?”

“It looked like there might have been three men tailing him on the street. They just walked in as well.”

Akaashi speaks up from where he’s carefully hidden himself in the shadow of the back wall. “They’re looking for someone,” he says, watching the trio of men’s eyes roam around the room, gazes more shrewd than if they were simply entranced by the sights. “Bounty hunters?”

Kuroo catches sight of them a moment later and grimaces. It only takes one look for him to know they have a problem. “Hitmen,” he corrects. So much for it being harder to put out a hit. Ikeda must have information that’s too valuable for him to be left alive if they’re sending this many after him. “Shit. Cut them off. Don’t lose them in the crowd.”

“You got it!”

“And you?”

Kuroo slides off his barstool. “Just leave Ikeda to me.” He pauses before grabbing his glass from the counter, taking it with him.

Bokuto and Akaashi linger further away, keeping their eyes on the hitmen trailing Ikeda, while Kuroo heads straight for the poker table. Ikeda skirts around the edge of the same table, moving to the side furthest from the doors, expecting to be followed. It would be smart. Except Kuroo is coming from behind him.

It should be easy. They’ve dealt with more difficult targets before. Craftier. Stronger. More desperate. As soon as Kuroo gets close enough, he’ll subdue Ikeda. Bokuto and Akaashi should be able to handle the hitmen by themselves if they’re working for some low-level kingpin on Callisto.

Halfway across the room, Kuroo bumps into someone on his right.

“Fuck,” he hisses. His drink sloshes in the glass, spilling over his fingers. The man who ran into him swears as well. Amber liquid stains the side of his white shirt. As his arms jerk away from the sudden cold, the sides of his jacket shift.

There’s a gun holstered at his side.

Kuroo’s eyes snap up. The other man is already looking at him. Jaw clenched. Eyes narrowed. His fingers twitch at his side. He hadn’t been on the first floor all night. They didn’t see him come in.

“Son of a bitch,” Kuroo says.

“Kuroo?” someone asks over the radio.

He sighs. “There are four of them.”

He throws what’s left of his drink in the other man’s face and lurches to the side as the fourth hitman draws his gun and shoots. The loud bang startles everyone in the room. Kuroo doesn’t see where the bullet goes as he ducks out of the way.

The gun is still trained on him when Kuroo rolls back onto his feet. There’s more distance between them now. A long blackjack table caught between the two of them. The hitman sneers at him. The gun levels with Kuroo’s chest. His finger pulls back on the trigger.

Kuroo lashes out with his leg. His foot collides with the underside of the blackjack table. It’s thrown onto its side. Two of the four legs lurch off the ground. Balanced precariously like that, the table blocks the bullets aimed at him. Wood splinters upon impact at point blank. Blue and white poker chips fly through the air.

All hell breaks loose.

There are screams in Blue Castle as the other hitmen draw their guns as well. People stumble from their seats on the gambling floor, shoving to get out of the way of gunfire that doesn’t come. Bokuto and Akaashi are faster.

Two of the men are caught off-guard and taken down.

Kuroo doesn’t watch his partners grapple for their guns. His eyes sweep around the room in search of Ikeda. He’s already taken off, racing towards the side door leading out to the alleys surrounding Blue Castle. He spits out a curse. It’ll be hard to catch him if he gets outside.

The hitman across from Kuroo seems to realize the same thing. Still blocked by the table, he trains his gun on Ikeda instead, ready to take the shot.

As the other man fires his gun, Kuroo throws the whiskey glass still clenched in his hand. The bullet smashes into the specially made Saturn Glass which explodes with the impact, delayed by only a second. Shards of glass rain down. The bullet’s trajectory shifts off course; it ends up embedded in the wall inches from Ikeda as he throws himself out the side door.

Before he can take another shot, Kuroo throws his weight against the upright table. It topples onto the hitman, knocking him onto the ground. One of the wooden legs snaps off.

Oikawa is going to be pissed.

Kuroo doesn’t have long to dwell on that. One of the other three hitmen pushes through the crowd. Before Kuroo can grab his own gun, the other man is already halfway out the door.

He makes sure to step on the table as he races after them, knocking the wind out of the man beneath it.

Kuroo throws the door open, letting it bang against the side of the building. The alley is empty. Both men are gone.

“Shit,” he sneers. “Kei, any movement on the west side of the entrance?”

“None.”

He runs to the right.

From what he remembers, this alley leads to a dead end behind the casino. An area sectioned off by the man who owned Blue Castle before Oikawa. They should be trapped there. If not, the wall should at least slow them down long enough for him to catch up.

Kuroo rounds the corner. A bang. He throws himself against the alley wall. A bullet buries itself in the bricks behind where he was standing. Kuroo yanks out his own gun, leveling it with the hitman’s head.

Before he can take the shot, the hitman pulls Ikeda between them, turning his gun on their bounty instead.

“Drop it. Now,” he demands, shoving the pistol against Ikeda’s temple. “Or he’s dead.”

Ikeda inhales sharply, tensing. Wide, terrified eyes try to meet Kuroo’s, but he doesn’t spare the bounty a look, keeping his eyes locked with the hitman’s as his finger hovers over the trigger.

Kuroo’s grip on his own gun is loose. He raises an eyebrow at the threat. “What do I care about that?” he asks. The hitman’s eyes widen. His shoulders slacken momentarily in surprise. Ikeda tenses as Kuroo continues. “He’s dead either way, right? That pool inside is worth more than this bastard is.”

The hitman hesitates, his brow furrowing in confusion. “But you’re a cowboy, aren’t you?”

Kuroo shrugs with one shoulder, gun still pointed at the hitman. “I’m not here to save anyone,” he says truthfully. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as the pistol moves just an inch away from Ikeda’s head. “Besides. You really think you’re faster than me?”

He pulls the trigger.

Blood splatters across the side of Ikeda’s face. The hitman cries out as a bullet buries itself in his shoulder. He drops the gun. Kuroo shoots him again as he stumbles forward, this time in the leg. He hits the ground with a thud and doesn’t move.

Kuroo doesn’t lower his weapon until Ikeda stumbles back against the wall and slides down onto his ass, his legs giving out.

“Thank you,” Ikeda croaks after a minute of silence. His hands tremble as he curls further into the brick wall behind him, and he watches as Kuroo nudges the hitman with the tip of his shoe.

He kicks the man’s injured shoulder when he doesn’t react the first time, satisfied when the man groans, long and low under his breath. Good. He doesn’t feel like dealing with a body today. Too much of a hassle with the paperwork.

Kuroo leans back against the opposite wall of the alley and takes out a cigarette.

Ikeda sucks in a shuddering breath. “Thank you,” he says again before Kuroo can light it.

Kuroo stills. “Don’t.” His voice is calm. Firm. “I meant it. You’re probably dead either way if you’ve pissed off the syndicates.” Ikeda flinches as Kuroo’s eyes finally snap over to meet his. “There’s not much the ISSP can do to protect you from them. You should have known that when you stole almost half a million worth of product.” He laughs at the face Ikeda makes, but there’s nothing humorous about it. “Hell, it might have been kinder to let him shoot you here, compared to what they’ll do after you’re taken in.”

He turns his back on Ikeda, lighting his cigarette. “You guys done inside?” he asks over the radio.

Akaashi answers. “We’re taking these three back to the Cat. Do you need help?”

“Nah, I should be—”

He stops abruptly.

Glancing over his shoulder, Kuroo finds a gun pointed at him again. This time it’s Ikeda holding it.

“Kuroo?”

He wets his lips. “Give me a minute,” he mumbles back.

Ikeda aims the gun at Kuroo’s head, trembling finger hesitating to squeeze down on the trigger. “I don’t wanna die,” he tells Kuroo, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Slowly, Kuroo raises one of his empty hands to his ear, silencing the radio. Ikeda’s hand won’t stop shaking. “You think running away forever is any better?”

By the time Kuroo gets back with Ikeda and the hitman he took out, the others are already lounging around in the common area of the ship. The other three hitmen are tied up on the floor, their wrists cuffed behind their backs. Tsukishima is lying on one of the couches, wearing his headphones as he plays some handheld game, Akaashi leaning against the wall beside him. Bokuto is sitting cross-legged in front of the hitmen. A grin spreads across his face when Kuroo walks into the room.

“About time you got back, man! We were ready to leave without you!”

Akaashi sighs. Ignoring Bokuto, he looks at Kuroo as he shoves the last hitman with the rest. Ikeda, he lets sit on one of the chairs in the room, though his hands are bound in front of him.

“What do you want us to do with them?” he asks, nodding towards the four.

Kuroo crouches in front of them, brows furrowed in thought. “Might as well keep them,” he decides. “I might be able to swindle my guy into giving us a bonus for these bastards. Doubt they’re worth much though.” Shrugging, he stands and stretches. “Ah, well. Guess that’s not our problem.”

Akaashi nods, and Bokuto scrambles to his feet beside him. “Want us to take them downstairs?”

“Keep them separate,” Kuroo tells them. The last thing they need is for one of them to get their hands on Ikeda before they can turn him in.

Bokuto gives him a two-finger salute before he helps Akaashi pull the men to their feet. They don’t put up much of a struggle as they’re herded out of the main area. Ikeda, too, follows them without making a fuss. His face is still streaked with blood, his eyes puffy and red.

Kuroo doesn’t look at him for long.

“You seem to know a lot of people,” Tsukishima comments after Akaashi and Bokuto are gone with the others. He’s still playing his game, but his headphones are down around his neck.

“Must be my sparkling personality.” Tsukishima scoffs under his breath, and Kuroo levels him with a look, catching Tsukishima’s gaze before he can turn away. When the younger man stays quiet, Kuroo narrows his eyes. “You got something to say, say it.”

Tsukishima doesn’t hesitate this time. “Why did you turn off your headset?”

“Now, that’s a secret,” Kuroo tells him, starting to smile. When Tsukishima sends him a blank look in return, Kuroo doesn’t bother to keep it up. “I had business with an old friend. I didn’t need some kid listening in.” It’s the wrong thing to say.

“Right.”

The snappish tone has Kuroo gritting his teeth. “Is that a problem, Kei?”

The younger man rolls his eyes. “Whatever,” he says, getting off the couch. “The ship is on autopilot to Juno. I’ll be in my room.”

Suddenly exhausted, Kuroo drops onto the couch opposite where Tsukishima was sitting. A soft trilling sound comes from the open hallway leading toward the bedrooms. Kuroo’s head lolls to the side. A small smile tugs at his mouth as a fluffy, black cat pads into the room. Sumi chirps as soon as he sees Kuroo. The cat trots up to him, rubbing against Kuroo’s legs and winding around his ankles. He purrs loudly.

Clicking his tongue, Kuroo pats the seat beside him.

Sumi makes a sound as he hops onto the couch, immediately crawling onto Kuroo’s lap. “What the hell are we gonna do with him, huh, Susu?” Kuroo asks, rubbing the cat’s cheek. Sumi purrs louder, leaning more of his weight into Kuroo’s palm.

Predictably, Sumi offers no answers. Kuroo sighs as he runs his fingers along the cat’s spine, fingers brushing through his long hair.

Closing his eyes again, he leans his head back, thinking about what Oikawa said before. There was a reason he couldn’t have Tsukishima listening in.

He stopped beside Iwaizumi. “There is one more thing.”

“Oh?” Oikawa mused. “And what’s that?”

Kuroo glanced over his shoulder, baring his teeth in a grin that was too wide. Too sharp. “I was never here.”

At his desk, Oikawa arched a brow, chin resting on his laced fingers. An amused smile tugged at his lips. “Of course not,” he agreed easily, brushing off the unspoken threat and pacifying Iwaizumi, whose hand had twitched towards the gun at his hip. “How could you be?” Oikawa continued. “After all, you’ve been dead for three years.”

#kuroo x reader #kuroo x oc #hq fics #hq x reader #the smut pile collab

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all-hallows-evie · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 1: Marooned

Rating: T, for language, Canon Typical Violence/Action. Honestly, this chapter isn't that bad, the T rating is just in case I forgot about something lol

Wordcount: 3,776

Warnings: Canon typical violence and adventure, female OC with name × Tech slowburn, but not too slow lol, NOT BETA'D, because if I have to stare at this first chapter again I'm not going to post it.

A/N: HAPPY TECH TUESDAY, LOOK I'M FINALLY POSTING SOMETHING, WHEEEEEEEEEEE

There were bad ideas, really bad ideas and then there was this.

The ship hums under her feet as it trudges through the far corner of the mid rim, chugging along on it’s route without any sign of trouble or disruption from it’s preplanned course.

It should have been a routine pillaging, something she had placed firmly in the ‘great ideas’ list but instead it had turned into a routine mutiny and finished the day as a routine marooning. She sighs as she lays her head back against the seamless panel behind her.

Fucking pirates.

She has been stranded on the old freighter for at least two moons, but it was hard to say with certainty. The droids that man the ship have no need to eat so more often than not they forget to pass along anything to keep her mounting hunger at bay, adding along to the lack of any kind of panel to the outside world, getting her bearings is proving to be more difficult than usual.

She hisses a swear to drown out the low growl of her belly and focuses her gaze on the far corner of the room. Another day, another chance to count the diamond shaped tiles above her cell, she swears the number changes every other time she counts. She doesn’t get farther than eighteen when the door of the maintenance room blows open.

The dust fills the room, hiding everything under its grimy shadow. The grit in the air crackles as it’s pushed against the red of the electron walls that keep her prisoner with the ships cooling coils and a water filtration unit that has calcified and has never been fixed.

"Well look at that, we found it! Lucky break!"

"Luck had nothing to do with it, if you had studied the schematics of this cruiser like I had asked-"

"Yeah yeah yeah." The first figure, a hulking shadow in the doorway brushes off the smaller one as he stomps into the suddenly too tiny room.

"The memory core should be at the end of the-" the smaller of the two figures stops in front of her cell as the big one charges towards the end of the room without stopping. They launch themselves into the piles of junk thrown haphazardly inside, "That's concerning."

"Concerning? You see someone in a cage and you go with ‘concerning’?" She replies as she pulls herself up to standing. She takes in his armor, modified clone armor from the looks of it painted pale with a bright red stripe down his chest, his eyes slightly magnified by the goggles on his face, the rest hidden by the elongated helmet.

"According to the intel we were provided there weren't supposed to be life forms aboard." He seems irritated to see her.

"Good old Republic intel, still living up to its reputation."

The other clone approaches, he rips open the metal box in his hands and yanks out the core as if the casing was made of thick flimsy and nothing more, "I've got the thing, time to go!"

She watches, dumbstruck for a moment as her ticket out starts to head for the gaping maw that used to be a door, "Wait, you're taking the old database?" The two of them stop and turn, "It's not complete! It's missing pieces of the coordinates!" Firefek she didn't want to sound desperate but she was.

"Likely story-" The big one chuckles.

"I was trying to steal it too, I almost got all of it before my crew turned on me!"

"A mercenary or a pirate? No matter, I trust you even less now."

She had never wanted to punch anyone's face as hard as she wanted to punch his, "Check the core Goggles, I swear to you! It's missing pieces!" He hesitates and in that baited pause she knows she has him, "Please, just let me out and drop me off wherever you dock next. You can have my data chip. No harm, no foul, just get me out."

The one with the goggles glares at her, the yellow tinted transparisteel of his visor snapping downl before he turns to the bigger man. Klaxons ring all around as he scans the core with a handheld device, but it's taking up time they do not have.

The two clones share a look, silently deciding her fate.

The bigger one caves first, "Aww c'mon Tech, we can't leave her! You saw what's on this ship, she'll be a goner on some mining planet!"

"Under normal circumstances I might agree but she's caged for a purpose, and I'm disinclined to put any trust in her."

"How much damage can she do? She’s smaller than you are!"

Tech, the one in the goggles, sighs before he turns back around to face her, "If we spring you, you play by our rules. You follow our orders, no complaints, no rebuttals and if you put one toe out of line-"

"Out the airlock, understood." She nods furiously, hands pressed against the panel as she watches Tech short out the electron wall holding her hostage, the panel shudders and then it spews sparks on to the ground as the red fades and she's finally able to step through.

"Lets go shortie!"

"Wait, let me just grab-" She scrambles to the other side of the wall, trying to pull at something from the top of a shelf. The bigger clone reaches over and tosses the crate to the floor. She throws open the top and snatches out a bantha leather bag and a helmet.

"Run!"

Tech doesn't have to tell her twice, the three of them bolt out of the door and into the corridor, the lights above flash in time with the klaxons. There is a low rumble that joins the hum of the hyperspace engine, as whatever security droids are on board begin to activate.

"Back to the ship, short stuff!"

The three of them book it down the darkened halls, ducking behind walls and crates as the first cluster of security droids pass through.

She tosses her bag across her shoulder, slinging it against one side of her hip, clipping it into place with snaps sewn into her jacket. They watch three more droids pass them by before she speaks again, "My name's Nox, by the way."

"Doesn't sound like a girl's name." The big one chuckles, so deep and rumbling it almost feels like a growl.

"Well it's the only name I've got. My parents named me a bit of a mouthful, Nox just works better."

"Clear." Tech calls out and they continue on their way heading to the service hangar where their ship hopefully was waiting for them.

"How'd you end up out here?" The big one asks, with every flash of light above them she can see more of the large scary face painted roughly on his helmet, lines thrown on haphazardly only to be scraped away by carbon scoring.

She is about to answer when she is shoved back into a corner by Tech. He slaps a hand over her mouth before she can yelp, the leather slightly singed, it smells of electricity and grease.

“Wait.”

"I'm getting tired of all this sneaking around, I say we blow our way outta here!" The big one growls.

"We’re almost there Wrecker, it would be pointless to try now."

She shoves Tech's Hand away, "Blow your way out of here, are you insane? With the amount of baby on board you'd blow us into the next dimension!"

There are a few beats of silence before both helmets turn towards her.

"Baby?" Wrecker repeats but is shushed by Tech.

"You don't mean baradium-"

"Bisulfate? I absolutely do! There were containers of the stuff in the holding bay."

"This Imperial ship is headed somewhere to mine thorilide?" He repeats, tone stressed over every syllable in the word ‘Imperial’.

"That or some unlucky planet is about to be wiped from existence."

"The location of the Republic thorilide mines have been kept under the utmost security for ages, not even the Jedi Council was ever advised of its location."

"Can’t say I blame them, I barely trust them with those glowy sticks of death." She murmurs, making lightsaber sounds with her mouth as Wrecker snickers.

"Stop that. Do you know where this ship was heading? Do you have a copy of the manifest?"

"What, your amazing Republic recce didn't get you that information shiny?" He glares back at her, brows pinching together behind the dark frames of his goggles, "Maker! Did those cloners take your sense of humor? Yes, I know where this ship is going."

"Bet Cid’s contact would pay more for that bit of info." Wrecker’s grin can be heard even through the plastoid of his helmet.

Tech meanwhile has typed something to a com on his wrist, "Hunter, there's been a complication."

"What kind of complication?"

"There is more on board this ship than just the republic database-"

"What do you mean?"

"This ship is a mining vessel, out to mine thorilide."

Tech’s wrist comm goes silent, just quiet static while the voice on the other line thinks, "Ordinance?"

Both clones look at her, she nods emphatically, "Ordinance, med supplies, if there was coaxium on board I wouldn't be surprised, this place is the motherlode."

"Quite a bit of supplies on board, it would seem."

The comm goes quiet again for a few moments, "We don't have time for this, it's only a matter of time before they realize that your cruiser is stolen. Grab what you went in for and leave."

Tech shakes his head, it's so tiny and quick that if she wasn't looking at him in that moment she would have missed it, "Where is it being kept?"

"Up, five or so floors unless I've miscounted."

"Tech, Wrecker, Get out of there, now!" The voice on the other end grows more and more irritable as they stand around in silence.

"We'll be out as soon as possible." Tech replies curtly as he cuts the comm. He makes it sound so easy like they were stopping by the nearest market to pick up fruit, instead of about to hijack high quality explosives from Imperial custody, "Lead the way."

"What? Just like that?"

"Are there, or are there not these items on board?"

"Yes."

"You swear?" Wrecker leans in close, hovering over her.

"Yeah."

Tech nods, "Vital signs are stable, no signs of heightened stress-"

"What if I'm just a really good liar?"

"You can try all you want my dear, but the data doesn't lie."

"Does he do this to you too? I'm finding it a bit creepy-" She asks Wrecker as her eyebrow raises.

"You get used to it."

"Weird, so weird…" she mutters to herself as she turns and peeks around the corner. She looks around for anything that is familiar, when she sees a maintenance lift at the very end of the hall to the right. She motions them forward, and silently they sneak their way closer to the lift. She turns her attention to her side as she digs in her bag, her fingers grasp at the odd collection of junk in her pockets until her hand finally wraps around the cool metal of her code cylinder and she can finally stop holding her breath.

Tech's hand on her shoulder pulls her back to the task on hand as he drags her back a few steps. The catwalk above them from here to the lift is no more than a shoddy looking set of grates that creak as a group of security droids march along their patrol, oblivious to the three of them below.

“The maintenance lift?" Tech sniffs as they come to a stop at its doors. He raises hand to push his goggles back into place, "Perhaps you have failed to notice but none of us are maintenance droids, the moment you try to access that panel they will -”

“They’ll what?” She asks as she jams the cylinder into the port, the lift clicks open silently and she steps inside.

“The alarms-”

“What alarms? According to this," she snaps her code cylinder from the panel and drops it back into her bag, lost again to the chaos of the random junk held within, "I'm a maintenance droid doing routine inspections. How stupid do you think I am?”

"Hey hey, this one's pretty smart huh Tech?!" Wrecker is thrilled.

"Pirate." She reminds, "You don't see many my age that aren't intelligent and I'll give you one guess as to why."

The doors silently click open and before they can step out a team of at least half a dozen well armed sentry droids roll past.

They all leap from the inside of the lift and fall into a crouch behind a stack of supply crates. They wait for a few moments before Tech quickly peeks over, "They don't seem to have spotted us."

"Fuck, there weren't this many when we tried this the first time." She swears a few more times under her breath.

"We should do this my way." Wrecker offers.

"What's that mean, what does he mean?!" Nox looks nervously over to Tech, "He doesn't mean-?"

"Explosives and violence? He absolutely does," Tech sighs, “ and I'm afraid we are running low on options and even lower on time. Wrecker, what does your ordinance look like?"

“But you said I couldn't bring any?”

“Yes, and when was the last time you actually listened?”

Wrecker, the fun if not absolutely homicidal one, pulls out a couple of detonators, a roll of plastic tape, a half dozen hand grenades and three droid poppers.

“Great, nice to know you could have turned us into a small sun if I hadn't told you about the baby on board.”

"Everything save for the poppers is far too dangerous to use around those crates." Tech hisses, "Any more of those brilliant pirate ideas floating around in your head?"

She chews on her lip for a moment, wracking her brain for anything else that might be useful as she ignores Tech's sarcastic tone. Apart from the crates on this floor littered with treasure, there didn't seem to be anything of any use...except for the busted water filter. “How big of a distraction do you think it would take to get all those sentries away from the haul?”

“It would need to be something quite large or destructive enough to threaten the integrity of the ship.”

“The water filtration system on board is completely calcified, I don't think it was ever fixed since there are only droids on board. If you could flood that with enough pressure the entire pipe should burst-”

“And flood the entire floor, along with the engine room, that might just do it.” He’s on his data pad before the words are even out of his mouth, he scans the room all around and matches it with the wireframe schematics on his screen. He stalks his way backwards until he finds the panel he is looking for. He pops it open easily and then begins to slice into the mainframe of the ship, “On my count, take Wrecker to wherever the baby is, let him handle it. You get your hands on as much of the medical supplies as you can, the security onboard is a little tighter than I would have preferred so I will have to stay here and continue to flood the filter.”

“Oh, easy.”

“Think you can handle all that tiny?” Wrecker’s thundering chuckle threatens to give away their location even with the steady moan of the alarms overhead.

She grins, Wrecker is back to being the fun one, “Try and keep up.”

There is a sound of roaring water all around them as tech funnels every liquid on the ship into the filter, then a sound like an explosion a couple of feet below them rocks the ship like a lightning strike.

The sound of the alarm overhead changes as every droid on the floor turns away and heads to a lowering platform, all instructed to assist with the burst pipe.

“That’s our cue!”

She shoves Wrecker forward playfully before they both break into a sprint toward the storage rooms where their bounty is being held. She points to one of the rooms as they approach, "This one's your big boy!"

The door is sealed shut, but not for long. Wrecker doesn't slow, instead he hunches low, bringing his shoulders down and tucking his chin into the collar of his armor before he barrels straight through, punching a hole through the doors with enough force to make even her teeth rattle.

She dips into the storage room across the hall, thanking the stars that her haul wasn't locked away like his was. She rips open any crate within arms reach, tossing open the tops and letting them scatter around the room wherever they land. She snatches bacta patches and hypos by the handful and packs the crate as full as she can, slamming her entire body weight against it to get it to close. She drags it out into the hall, placing it by the door before she bolts into the room right beside the one Wrecker is standing in.

Wrecker watches her disappear into the room, the four small crates of explosives tucked carefully under his arms, “Wait, where are you-”

His question is answered as another crate hits the floor beside him. She comes running out of the room, grabbing this second crate by the handle and yanking it along, “Perfect! Not a single explosion! Love that for me!”

Wrecker bends down to offer her a hand but she has already snatched up the first trunk and is flying down the hall with them. She's faster than Wrecker would have believed she would be capable of with the two crates almost her height. She almost trips over herself as she stops and with a swift kick, the second crate lands at Tech's feet, “Come on 20/20, cut her loose, let's go!”

“What’s in that- I specifically ordered you to only carry medical supplies.”

“Yeah well, it sounds like you are used to not being listened to so, ship. Now!”

Wrecker races past, hopping off of the side and down to the level below, the halls are empty as all hands are called to help with the floor that is flooding.

Nox peeks over the side, she watches as Wrecker sets the small boxes of baby down beside him, "Toss your crate!" He calls up. She nods and yanks the crates handle, flipping it up and off of the edge with a nudge from Tech.

She helps him in turn, as they gingerly haul the crate full of ordinance over the edge before tossing it below.

Wrecker sets the crates to one side before turning back to catch Nox, but she's already climbing down. Her fingers dig into spots on the wall where she should not be able to have any grip. She finds her own way down and with a little hop, lands right beside Wrecker as Tech lands beside her. The clang of his boots echoes down the empty hallway. "We'll need to make our way through the flooded floor of the ship in order to get back to the hangar." Tech types away at his data pad again before picking up the side of his crate.

Nox follows close beside the two clones, tossing the crate up onto her back to avoid making any unnecessary scraping sounds as they get closer to the flooded area, the sound of pouring water gets louder and louder with every floor. The next floor they walk through has the water barely deep enough to wash over the toes of their boots, but it rises rapidly after that. By the time they are on the same floor as the hangar, the water has risen up to their knees and Nox has a harder time trying to distract her mind from where all of this stagnant water has been hiding this whole time.

“Holding out ok over there tiny?” Wrecker chuckles.

She turns to answer, when everything becomes...not alright. Her next step slips out from under her and she goes flying forward, crashing face first into the dark disgusting water, the crate on her back keeping her under the surface as she struggles to pull herself back up to standing.

A hand at the back of her collar pulls her back up into fresh air, slimy water pours from her mouth and nose as she gags. She doesn't need to clear the water from her eyes to know what the dark figures that are starting to line the hallway are. Tech and Wrecker are on either side of her, blasters raised as the sentry droids file in.

“I'm hoping you can fight better than you can swim.” Tech calls over as Wrecker leaps over them both and charges straight into one of the sentries. Tech keeps a few of the others at bay, clipping them with bright bolts from his twin deecees, but it's not enough. She rubs the slime from her face and charges right behind Wrecker, using her entire body to check a droid in her path, she grabs the blaster from its hands as it goes tumbling backwards and into the water. Techs shots ring out around her as he stays behind, watching over the crates behind him. Wrecker tears through any droids that get within reach, sparks flying on to the water before they sizzle and die. She concentrates her fire on any droids Tech misses until the hall is clear.

"There'll be a second platoon on their way, we better get a move on." Tech calls back to them, she tosses the almost empty blaster into the water beside her.

"Are you always just, you know?" She makes growling and ripping sounds at Wrecker.

He laughs, "Not often enough."

She stifles her laughter behind her hand as she walks back to where Tech is to retrieve the case of medical supplies, for a brief moment the last couple of days are forgotten and even the slime on her skin is the last thing on her mind. For a brief moment she was back with her men, waiting for that score of a lifetime, but when she grabs the handle of the crate and looks back it’s the clone armor that reminds her she is in fact alone. The sudden quiet of sadness doesnt last long as the doors behind them open and a new series of drods begin their march towards them.

“Incoming!”

-----

Tag list: @themarvelbunch @agentwhiskeysdarlin @pascalisthepunkest @ashotofspotchka

#tbb #tech #the bad batch #Tech Tuesday #the bad batch x oc #the bad batch fic #tech x oc #evie struggles with writing #star wars fanfiction #tbb tech

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mxvladdy · 4 years ago

Text

More than just a flirt

John Hancock X OC

Hi hi! My smut hand be rusty but nothing like completely self indulgent OC smut to bring me back :)

So I’m still new to tagging and the like but my Fallout 4 OC is GN but I do insinuate female genitals. Soooo ye *finger guns*

If ya read it I hope a like it!

John was a flirt; that’s all he ever could be. He was charming. He was witty. He was an adventure covered in an oversized trench coat. What bed partners he had came for one thing. The experience. The ability to boast loudly about fuckin’ a ghoul. Like it was a damn badge of honor. His whole life had been a stream of one night stands, and cold beds. That's all he ever could be. That’s all he ever would be.

So then why did he wake up so warm?

Cracking an eye open John reached behind him searching blindly for what was heating his back. His burned fingers were a complete contrast to the soft flesh that greeted him. Slowly, he traces down it, following the flow of the dark muscular till he is holding on to an arm wrapped around his middle.

“Morin’.” His bed partner huffs in his ear. Chestnut curls tickle his cheek as they hug him closer. Whiskey and melon sweet breath bringing back memories of their lips against his. Last night clicks in place. Ophelia. John rose quickly as if burned. This was wrong, they are a friend. A good friend, a trustworthy hardworking leader. They deserved better than-than…

“John?” Ophelia rose uncaring of how the blankets slipped from their arms. Old fabric pooling around their bare waist. They rub at their eyes wearily. “You ok?”

He froze at the edge of the mattress. Long fingers reaching for his pants on a very recognizable floor. He was in Ophelia’s room; or rather this was their hotel room. Damn. He couldn't remember a thing from last night. What did he take? Fuck. He could kick himself. Of all the one-nighters, he wanted to at least remember this one. “Ye doll, sorry...just didn't wanna wake ya.” He smiles, covering his momentary panic.

Ophelia frowned, sleepy hazel eyes narrowing into a familiar piercing glaze. They size him up. Reading him better than anyone ever had before. John couldn’t help but squirm. They looked at him just like when they had first met. Strong jaw tense and their chin high, silently calling out his bullshit.

“I'm fine, honest. Didn't expect to see you is all.” Hancock tried again tugging on his pants.

“In my own room?” His friend snorts, rising to go open the curtains. “Where else would I be?”

John is silent. “I don’t know. Not here-with me.” He keeps his back turned. It was stupid to linger. The warm tingling of their soft body seeps down into the floorboards leaving him aching and cold. Staring at his irradiated hands he could almost cry. Almost- his tear ducts had been scarred shut years ago.

“John?” Ophelia comes within arms reach. He could sense their hand hovering close to his own boney shoulder. They drop it moments later. “You sure you’re ok? You coming down from a bad trip or somethin’?” John chuckles humorlessly. Was he that predictable? Stepping away from them he finishes dressing.

“Ye sunshine. Don’t worry about it. Ain’t my first time and sure as hell won’t be my last.” He tosses out over his shoulder. “I’ll give ya a minute ta get ready and meet you out front.”

If Ophelia had anything to say after that they kept between their pretty little lips.

“I think we should head for shelter.” Ophelia says, looking up from the fallen mutant. Their arms filled with loot. John follows their gaze. His black eyes reflect the eerie shade of green growing in the sky. Rad storm. Looked like a big one too. He lights a cigarette and sticks it between his grimy teeth before helping collect a few more useful items.

“Closest place is probably that supermarket couple o’ klicks back.” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder. If they hoof it they could probably get there and pick off any ferals before the worst of the storm hit. Ophelia sighs, John knew how much they hated backtracking. The decision was made for them when their pip-boy starts clicking in warning.

“Well-” They frown, throwing a glance back at the ghoul. “You alright with taking two steps forward and ten steps back?” John laughs, tipping his tricorn up to flash them a quick wink.

“Shit doll- You just summed up my life in a sentence.” Offering a hand he helps the sharpshooter over some loose rubble. “You keep an eye out K? I know you’re low on ammo so I’ll take point.” Ophelia nods. Their sniper rifle slung uselessly across their back. Readying his shotgun John follows behind.

The storm hit just when he had expected. Dropping rain and hunks of debris on the two as they struggle to close the supermarket doors against the high winds. Thanks to their combined dumb luck the place was empty. The sentry bots long since destroyed and even a few tins of food were still scattered about the aisle. Ophelia left him to collect some and scout out any hidden lock boxes, leaving him to set up the sleeping bags and start a small fire. Cracking open a room-temperature beer he stares idly into the flicking flames. It grew steadily as he fed it bits of cardboard and kindling. The yellow glow touches his skin and starts to dry his drenched clothes. John contemplates his predicament while he waits for Ophelia to return. The memories of last night slowly start to come back to him in the silence. The tastes, and smells of washed sheets and sweating skin permeate his senses. Ophelia’s sweet mewls and gasps echo around in between his ears. Who gave them the right to make his name sound so sweet?

Shit-He knew he shouldn’t dwell on it. First rule of one-nighters is to live in the moment then walk away clean. But damn if he wasn’t the worst at following rules.

He relives it all the best he can, parts still blurring and blocked, like a scratch in a holotape. But he’ll take it. He’ll take the phantom feel of strong, sure fingers mapping his body. The ghost of a tongue slipping against his. Washing away the taste of mentats and cheap drinks. He can’t remember the last time he had felt so warm and wanted. Made the sudden distance he put between them hurt even more. Fuck him for getting greedy.

John flicks the butt of his cigarette into the roaring flames and searches for another. He grumbles in irritation as each pocket bears no fruit. “Here. I got some.” A familiar red and white box appears in his peripheral. Ophelia’s chipped yellow nail polish clashing with the old carton.

“Thanks, sunshine.” He rasps, taking the box. He can’t bear looking up for the crumbled container. The thought of making eye contact with them while his blood and brains were living in his trousers seemed unholy. Pulling out the least damaged cigarette of the lot he lights it with a practiced flick of his wrist. “Found anything good?”

They shrug, putting a few cans of beans and corn in the growing amount of embers around the fire pit to heat. “Some ammo and super glue. Also-” They grin, forcing him to look up. “Got you a present.” They pull a bottle out from behind their back to brandish it at him triumphantly. He stares. Not at the bottle, but at the way that little pull of muscle brightens up their whole face. That signature gapped tooth smile warming him better than the beer and firelight combined. He reaches numbly for the bottle. A Nuka-Cola Quantum, the chill of the bottle a welcomed surprise.

He and the rest of the crew had learned over the years not to reject a gift, no matter how valuable. MacCready nearly had a heart attack when he was gifted with a shiny new sniper rifle. That pretty little custom piece came with all the bells and whistles. Not to mention a few boxes of specialized ammo. John had zoned out when the other man started rambling rapid-fire over specs clutching the gun to him like a newborn. Each of the core companions got some good shit from time to time. He had some absolutely sinful blades and an old bottle of pre war bourbon tucked away in his office. Valentine had gotten some fantastic upgrades to his hardware and repairs to his offices. Hell- Curie got a whole bloody body.

Can’t beat these job perks.

“What’s the occasion?” He pops the cap off with the blunt end of his pocket knife, taking a pull from the bottle. The rush of sugar and god knows what else damping his headache.

Ophelia shrugs from across the pit. Pulling off their worn boots to warm their feet by the fire. “I remember you said they perk you up after a particularly bad crash.” They pause, face closing down for a moment, before looking up in horror. “I would have thought- I mean. I- you-I hope I didn’t do anything last night that upset you. I know you were a bit buzzed and I was way past tipsy. But, if I stepped out of line you would tell me right ?” John looks at them beyond confused.

"What?" He asks dumbly.

" Is," Ophelia waves vaguely at the distance between them. Normally when they camped together they were thick as thieves. Joking and nudging at each other's shoulders. Others used to joke about them getting a room. Now it felt like a great chasm had opened between them. "all of this about last night."

"Oh. Nah. Don't gotta worry none doll." John shrugs. Best to rip the bandage off now then later. "It's in the past, best leave it there. " He lies. It burns his throat worse than jet, but he has to. If only to protect his crumbling pride. One day he'll believe his own words. Hopefully.

"Well I am worried. How 'bout we start over. What’s wrong?" Ophelia jabs.

John feels heat rise under his thick skin. Just pokin’ a fresh cut tonight huh..."Kinda hard to start over after having someone's dick down your throat." He tosses it out carelessly. A shit attempt to derail the coming train wreck. Ophelia doesn't even flinch.

"Well, it's a damn good thing we both know how flexible I am then.” They rebuttal smoothly. “So, I'll ask again. What’s. Wrong?" The ghoul shrinks under their heated look. He was never keen on being hit with these eyes. Meant another kinda storm was brewing.

John throws his hands up in frustration. Had they never heard the phrase 'read the room'. "What, ya never had a one nighter before?" He regrets it the second the words leave his lips. He'd never seen someone flinch from words before. "Look, doll, I ain't one for making things awkward. I know the rules so let's just forget it and move on."

Ophelia deflates. Their signature look that could pin a super mutant in fight extinguished just like that. John watches them mouth over his words slowly. Clearly hating the taste of them as much as he did. "Is- was that what you wanted out of it?" Ophelia sighs. They dig a hand through sweat tangled locks. The tight coils of their hair protesting the drag of their fingers. His own fingers itch watching them, remembering the feel of their hair wrapped around his hand as he pulled them in for a kiss.

"What did you want out of it?" He asks, feeling dumber than a radroach.

Ophelia mimics him, throwing their hands up with a short laugh. "John, I thought it was clear. I don't go sleeping around with my friends and colleagues for shits and giggles. Who do I always ask to join me on travels?"

“Dogmeat?” John jokes, the knot in his stomach loosening with hope. It's unimaginable really- and yet. Were they serious? The past couple of times out they had always come to him. Even when they would be at a strategic disadvantage for whatever crazy scheme they had brewing. Only time he wasn’t Ophelia’s top pick was when some Minutemen tasks needed to be done. Even then He could always expect them at his front door the moment their feet landed on safe ground. A bottle of liquor in hand and an unbelievable story to tell.

“Not funny.” They chastised him scooting until they were seated next to him, knees brushing. "My idea for this morning was to maybe get breakfast and a semi decent cup of coffee. But I guess this is fine." They scrunch their nose in distaste at the cans warming in the fire pit.

“Shit doll,” John reaches out, wrapping a wiry arm around their waist. “Can I make it up to you? For being such an ass?” They hum in jest covering his hand with their own. The kiss that follows was unlike anything that he expected. It was slow and sweet. So different from the fast pecks he would get with others he slept with. He deepens it greedily, not ready to part just yet.

“You’re lucky I find you attractive.” Ophelia whispers into his mouth tossing his tricorn to the side and straddling his narrow hips. “We are going to have a talk about all this. Just-later-much, much later. I need a repeat performance of last night now that we are both sober.”

John groans letting them push him down. “Damn-you got it. You got whatever you want if you mean it.” Ophelia scoffs, ridding themselves of their baggy jacket. John can’t help but marvel at how beautiful they were backlit by the roaring flames. The orange glow of the light wrapping around their dark skin much like he craved to do. The flicking of it lapping at their smooth skin. Flashes of last night coming back to him of his tongue traveling down the same areas. He would have to remap them.

“As if I could ever lie to your smart ass.” They scoff grinding down on the growing bulge hidden in his rough pants. “But you have been lying to me and yourself it seems.”

He grunts in acknowledgment eyeing the way their ass moves. “You are absolutely right.Fuck- how can I make it up to you?”

Ophelia smirks cupping his cheeks. Their eyes meet. Rich hazel meeting cold black. The moment digs dip under his tough hide. The raw emotions in their stare makes his throat dry. “Put that mouth to good use- hmm? I know it’s good for more than some self-depreciation.”

Spurred by Ophelia’s words he flips their positions, placing the sniper down on his bedroll. John sinks lower, kissing and nipping at their hip bone. Mapping out all the sensitive parts of their body. His tongue tracing the silver little streaks on their belly. Ophelia’s stomach twitches at the feel of his warm breath on their stretch marks, cursing quietly as he finds their slick core. Their nails score his scalp, dragging a hiss of pleasure from his lips. He licks with gusto, taking full advantage of their isolated positions to make them scream.

“John-” They mew clawing at his shoulders to pull him back up to their kiss swollen lips. He goes leaving a trail of kisses in his wake before giving them a surprisingly chaste kiss on their lips.

“You sure ‘bout this doll?” He didn’t know what would happen after this, but it felt so different compared to his other recurring bed partners. He did want to see them again. He wanted this relationship to bleed into every aspect of his life. If he could relive that morning wrapped in their arms till his brain was splattered out on some dusty alleyway then he would. Without question.

Ophelia nods, reading in between the lines of his multilayered question. If there was one power figure in this wasteland they trusted, it was him. Wrapping a strong leg around his strong waist they shimmy off their tactical pants. Their eyes lock onto his pants as if the ratty briefs offended them. John chuckles and casually loosens the draw strings keeping his pants up. Ophelia takes it from there scooting the rough material down his legs. They pur, grasping his erection and stroking it. Their dexterous fingers play with his head drawing out a healthy bit of pre.

John sighs and rests his forehead on Ophelia’s brow breathing in their naturally clean scent. It reminded him of the rare times he could get freshly washed laundry mixed with the springtime. Shen the wild plants strong enough to brave this cruel world sprouted. He kisses them, nipping at their chin and collarbone while they drive him wild. “Doll, please.” He gasps, back arching into their touch. “You’re killin’ me ya know.” Ophelia chuckles returning a deep kiss.

“Good, consider it penance for thinking I couldn’t love you.”

John heaves, lost for breath as their words hit him. He pulls back floundering. “You mean that?” He sees the rapid fire thoughts racing through their wide eyes. Shock that they let slip that dirty little secret, fear of what he would do, then a stark resolution.

“Of course.” Ophelia nods through their embarrassment. Their sharp cheeks beginning to warm under his gaze. They say it like it’s an obvious statement. Like he should have just known. In a way he did. He just couldn’t believe it.

John takes the initiative now. Dragging Ophelia down to his scarred lips preening when he feels them sigh into it. Their tongue teasing his telling him point blank what they wanted. Grabbing onto their plush hips John grinds down on them, rubbing his stiff erection through the seam of their thighs and wet entrance. The moans that elicited from them made his radioactive blood boil with need. He had to have them again, last night was a dud. He would savoir this time.

Positioning themselves over John’s cock Ophelia shoots him a sultry wink before sinking down onto him slowly. “Oh fuck me.” He groans, dropping his head to his pillow. Their body was feverish around his, soft, pliant and so willing.

“That was my intention.” They grab onto his shoulders for support. Eyelids fluttering heavily. “If I’m not getting that across now, perhaps I should quit while I’m behind?” They joke as they ride him. Their hips move in slow tight circles. It’s enough to drive him wild.

John digs his fingers into the supple flesh of Ophelia’s hips. With any luck he’ll leave bruises. Excellent. Ophelia couldn’t stop John as he flipped their position. He pinned them roughly down on his sleeping bag. “Don’t worry Doll. You got your point across very well. Don’t need to go putting yourself out like that.”

“You’re one to ta-” John thrusts into them cutting off their snark. Taking devilish delight in flustering them. Setting a fast pace he drives in deep revealing in their cries of pleasure. God damn- this was almost enough to make him wanna go sober. How did he ever think one night would be enough?

“Fuck! I don’t deserve you.” His hisses cutting through the wet slaps of skin on skin. Ophelia does nothing but groan. Neither of them last long. Much to John’s chagrin. He finishes with a choked shout, hips and stomach twitching as he spills himself on their thigh. Ophelia doesn’t fare much better. They bite hard at the rough skin of his neck, nails scoring his back with a perfect mixture of pleasure and pain while they came undone beneath him.

“Do you mean it?” He asks, cupping the back of Ophelia’s skull. They wrap an arm around his neck nuzzling close, draping their body across his.

“Ye- but if you talk down about yourself again I’ll have to feed you to a deathclaw.” John chuckles feeling his eyelids getting heavy. He wouldn’t put it past them.

#Fallout 4 #john hancock #john hancock x sole survivor #it's smut #it's angsty #it's oc time #crusty boi is best boi

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the-cult-of-russo · 4 years ago

Text

Push and Pull (Part 11)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, trauma and panic attacks

----------

A few days went by that were pretty uneventful. Daphne had given her intel to Brett and she would wait to hear what he wanted her to do next. In the meantime she just took it easy. Foggy hadn't been by with the food, he'd texted her to say he and Matt had been swamped with cases but that he'd check in when he can. She idly wondered if Matt was just refusing to cook for her after their last run in out of spite but she wasn't going to cry about it. She did miss her regular talks with Foggy though but maybe it was for the best. Being attached to people only led to disappointment in one way or another down the line anyway.

But despite her respite from the masked fiend, today she needed to find him. She really hoped that with Keiran now in hospital and then on his way to jail, that her nightmares would subside and her anxiety that always seemed to be simmering would evaporate. She didn't have much luck though and she hated how this whole thing was still bothering her. She wanted to just be over it and get back to herself 100%. It was the lack of control she felt over the situation that gnawed at her. How easy he'd hurt her, how easy he'd taken her down and cut off her air supply. She'd been seconds away from death. So as much as she didn't like Matt, he was the only person she could think of that might be able to help her. She'd done her own backseat casual investigation of Matt when Foggy had come over during their friendly talks. She'd drop in a question about Matt every now and again. Foggy would answer and then steer clear of the Matt topic. But she got enough information to know what days he frequented Fogwell's gym. The same gym his father used to box in.

She had on some leggings, her black and white vans and paired them with a long sleeve black tee and a zip up hoodie. Her hair was up in a messy bun and she left her backpack and camera, not needing it for what she was hoping to do. She really had no idea how this would go. He could say no and tell her to fuck off, which honestly she was expecting. His hot and cold moods gave her whiplash but she was hoping he'd take pity on her if she was honest with him about why she needed his help. She didn't like him much and loathed sharing a vulnerable part of herself. But if anyone understood the brutality of what she went through and the guilt that plagued her, she figured it would be Matt. She had a lot of pride but she also knew when she should swallow it. In this case, she'd rather bruise her pride a little now with Matt than have it ripped to shreds if she got attacked again.

The air was chilly outside and she tugged her hoodie tighter around herself as she walked briskly to the gym. She'd never been to that gym before, or any really. She wasn't trained in fighting or super into fitness. She just kept herself okay enough to get by with her job. She didn't technically know how to fight but she could throw a punch when needed. It was her sheer stubbornness and self preservation that drove her in those moments when it came to it. Just like her attack at Mr Lee's House. But that almost went very very badly for her and she wanted to be more prepared. She really hoped it never came to it but she was taking precautions either way. She was hoping by taking back some level of control over what happened then maybe she'd be able to start sleeping again. She'd grown tired of Foggy and Brett making remarks about the circles around her eyes.

Once she got to the gym, she stood outside for a moment. She felt a flutter of nerves, knowing that she would need to be honest and open with someone she didn't like all that much. For all she knew he wasn't even here. He should be if he followed his routine but the one thing that prickled at her with Matt was his unpredictability. She pushed open the door quietly and tiptoed inside. It was empty except for the man she was looking for. He was in a vest and baggy shorts, nothing covering his eyes. She was expecting him to turn to her, his senses alerting him she was there. But he didn't. The boxing bag was a victim of the onslaught of punches Matt threw its way, grunting and panting as he did. She couldn't help but stand and watch for a moment. He was so aggressive, graceful yet savage. She found herself admiring it for a moment.

Slapping herself out of a moment of stupidity, she cleared her throat loudly. He stopped punching, his head whipping in her direction and confirming that he had been too absorbed in what he was doing to notice her.

"Daphne?" He asked breathlessly. He sounded genuinely confused but he didn't have the same bite he did the other night so she was hopeful this wouldn't be too painful for her.

"Hey," she murmured awkwardly, moving closer inside. Matt walked over to his water bottle on the bench, gulping it greedily. She watched him for a moment as she gathered the nerve to ask him what she came for. He was all sweaty and his hair was stuck up everywhere. It was slightly endearing. He looked more like a person than the Devil of Hell's Kitchen right then.

"What are you doing here?" He asked as his chest started to calm down with the heaving. Once again he didn't sound mad.

"I uh… I was kind of hoping for a favour," she grimaced. He blinked in her direction, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

"It couldn't wait?" He snorted.

"Not really. I was kind of hoping you'd train me," she blurted. There. She ripped off the bandaid, now she just had to wait for which Matt she would get and figure out how to proceed. He was silent for a moment, lifting his vest up and wiping his face with it. She wouldn't deny she took a peek at his abs. She didn't like him but she never denied he was attractive. She’d told him that the first time they'd met.

"Any reason why?" His voice was devoid of any telltale sign of how he felt so she really had no idea which version of himself he was. That made her nervous. She felt her heart flutter as she folded her arms around herself like a protective cocoon. He seemed to notice as his face softened a little.

"Your attack right?" He asked knowingly. She was grateful one of them had the balls to say it but hated that it hadn't been her. But he seemed to be amicable which was something so she decided to just press on.

"I have nightmares every night. Flashes of… Mr Lee's body and… Keiran's hands around my throat. I thought it would get better once he was caught but...its not," she muttered as her throat tightened. Matt stayed silent as he watched her but she wasn't looking at him. She was frowning at the floor.

"I felt so fucking helpless, Matt. I can throw a punch and I can take a punch. But that… I wasn't prepared. And that lack of control is fucking with me. I hope to fuck I never go through something like that again but if I do, I want to be prepared. That was the second time someone used a knife on me. I don't need to do fancy blackflips and shit, but just basic self defense. Disarming people and getting out of holds," she continued. Her voice was tense and she felt a dull ache in her chest. But she'd gotten it out now, even if he said no at least she tried. When she chanced a glance at him, he was biting his lower lip as he glared at the floor. His whole body looked tense and she started to panic he'd say no.

"Please," she insisted. She hated herself for begging him for anything but she needed this. She needed some semblance of control back in her life so she could go on as normal.

"Alright," he relented. She blinked for a moment before relief swept through her. Maybe it would be awkward but she didn't care in that moment. She smiled gratefully with a nod.

"I'll train you on one condition," he said firmly. She groaned and rolled her eyes, of course there was a condition.

"What is it?" She sighed.

"If I train you, you stop calling me Devilboy," he said seriously. An inelegant snort left her lips, she hadn't expected that to be his request.

"But it suits you," she whined playfully. His lips quirked up as he shook his head.

"That's the deal, take it or leave it," he smirked at her, outstretching one of his wrapped hands. She rolled her eyes goodnaturedly as she walked over, shaking his hand firmly.

"What about Satan spawn?" She asked cheekily and he shot her a dirty look with his unfocused eyes.

"Nope," he replied firmly.

An hour later and she was ready to tear her own hair out, or his, either really. He'd had her warming up on the punching bag to see how she fared. He'd been impressed by how hard she could hit but took great pleasure in criticising her form and how she'd cause more harm to herself with the way she did it. She got better after his advice although she still wasn’t perfect but his nitpicking was starting to chip at her sanity. She knew he was helping but he seemed to enjoy being a little asshole too much.

"Alright, let's go," he said. She furrowed her brow not sure what he was talking about but he tossed her some boxing gloves and put some on himself before he hopped up, climbing through the ropes in the ring. A sly grin crept onto her face. Sparring him would be much more fun, even if she knew she had no chance of winning. Even if he took it easy on her which she knew he would. She climbed into the ring and stretched her neck a little.

"What are we doing?" She asked. He started circling her like a shark with its prey and she found herself following suit as the adrenaline started sparking inside of her.

"Just a free for all. You need to practice on a moving target and learn to dodge," he replied carefully.

They circled each other for a moment more before she threw the first punch, she wasn't surprised when he dodged it way too easy.

"Did you forget everything I just taught you? Fix your form," he demanded. His attitude was fuelling her annoyance and she swung at him again.

"Better. Try again," he muttered. She went to punch him but instead of dodging, he blocked and then pushed her back. Not too hard but she still grunted and almost lost her balance.

"This isn't fair. You're not exactly a normal opponent," she huffed, readying herself again.

"You gonna keep trying or cry about it?" He smirked. Her jaw dropped a little and she swung out again but once again he deflected.

"I thought you said you could throw a punch," he taunted, causing her to purse her lips.

"Against a normal person. Not Daredevil," she scolded with a glare.

"I'm hearing a lot of excuses," he snorted. Her anger was starting to simmer away on the back burner. She swung at him hard but he grabbed her wrist, twisting her and spinning her away from him.

"Do better!" He barked. She threw another punch but she missed as he ducked out of the way, kicking his leg out and sweeping her own out. She landed on her back with an oof. Her chest was heaving and she didn't know if she was more annoyed with him or herself.

She jumped back up onto her feet and rolled her shoulders.

"Maybe you could take it easier on me," she bit out.

"Right. Because if you get attacked I'm sure they'll take it easy on you. No wonder Keiran took you down so easy," he sneered. A white hot rage ran through her at the words.

"Excuse me?" Her voice was deadly calm as her hands started shaking with anger. He just smirked cruelly and gave her a lazy shrug.

"Did you even try to fight back or did you just lay down and take it?" His words made her snap and she lunged at him. She threw out her right hand but as he dodged it she hit out with her left, clocking him right in the jaw. She felt exhilarated she got a hit in. She didn't have time to celebrate as he shoved her instead of hitting her back. He swung his legs out but she moved out the way just in time and she sent a kick to his torso that landed. It barely moved him but it connected.

He laughed, actually laughed and not in a mocking way. It occured to her then he'd purposely pissed her off so much to help her. She should have seen it sooner since pushing people's buttons to elicit a response was her thing. She leaned left to throw him off before quickly weaving right and landing another punch to the jaw. She groaned when his gloved fist landed on her side. It was by no means a full punch but it shocked her since he'd done nothing but deflect and dodge so far.

"You hit me," she muttered with wide eyes. He snorted and tilted his head, unfocused eyes in her direction.

"That's generally how this goes," he smirked. She shook her head with a grin of her own before throwing another punch at him. They spent some more time and he didn't hit her as many times as he could have and she didn't land as many as she wished she had, but she was getting better.

Her chest was heaving after a moment and he leaned against the ropes as he caught his own breath.

"You did good. With practice you'll get even better," he smiled. She stood up straighter and wiped her brow with her arm.

"Was that a compliment?" She snorted, cracking her neck as she walked over and took the gloves off after he did the same.

"I wouldn't go that far," he retorted with a smirk.

"What next?" She asked. She tightened her hair tie and tried to ignore the strays that had flown out during the sparring.

"I'll teach you how to get out of some holds," he stepped closer to her before walking behind her. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

"Alright, if someone comes and grabs you from behind like this..." he put his arm loosely around her neck and she straightened up a little.

"As soon as you feel the arm, you need to push your chin down," he instructed. She did as he said as he brought his other hand up and gripped the other.

"Now grab my arms with both hands and step to the side," one again she did as she was told, soaking up everything he was telling her. He tapped her left arm briefly before putting his hand back in his other.

"With this arm, you'll hit back. Aim for the groin," she raised a brow at his words but she couldn't turn her head to look at him.

"You want me to hit you in the dick now or just pretend?" She snorted. She couldn't see him but she felt a light laugh dance across her neck.

"Just pretend or get my leg right now. But if this was anyone else, the groin," he replied. She hit back, stopping before she made contact.

"So usually, when you do this, the asshole will move like this to grab your arm," he said as he bent slightly and grabbed her wrist.

"But before he grabs you, you wanna elbow up right in the face," she almost asked if she could really elbow him in the face but decided against it. He released her completely and she glanced back to him.

"Ready?" He asked as he looked in her direction. She faced away again and blew out a breath.

"Ready," she confirmed.

He quickly wrapped an arm around her but she pressed her chin down as he'd told her to. Then gripping his large forearm with both hands, she stepped to the right and swung her fist back, not making contact. He went to quickly snatch her wrist but she flung her elbow up, almost connecting. She beamed a smile as he let her go and she turned around.

"That was good. You're a quick learner," he smiled. This wasn't turning out to be as bad as she thought it would.

"Thanks. I'd say you're a good teacher but I'm scared your ego would get bigger than it already is," she smirked and he chuckled at her.

"We'll do one more for today, lay down," he gestured to the floor and she quirked a brow before getting to the floor and laying on her back.

"This one is harder to get out of, there's a lot more steps. But if you practice it then you should be fine," he said as he got on the floor on his knees. He grabbed her ankles and pushed her legs so her knees were bent and he moved so he was pressed against her. She just lay there curiously for a moment.

"You ready?" He asked carefully. She hadn't really thought too much about just what they were about to do but she nodded anyway. Then his hands were wrapped around her throat. It wasn't tight at all but as he loomed over her, even the featherlight touch around her neck sent her fight or flight into overdrive. His face suddenly morphed into Keiran's and despite no pressure being applied, she felt like she couldn't breathe.

"Daphne?" Matt faltered, his voice unsure. Something snapped in her and she shoved him off easily since he didn't try to resist her

She sat up, gasping for air as she scooted back until her back pressed against the rope. She had no idea what was wrong with her but her ears started ringing. Matt was talking but he sounded like he was underwater and she couldn't make out his words. Large hands cupped either side of her face and his fuzzy face came into focus. Matt, not Keiran.

"Breathe, okay? You're fine. Just breathe nice and slow for me," he soothed. She closed her eyes, her whole body shaking as she did as he said. She was safe. She knew that so why did she freak out? She felt her face flush in embarrassment and anger at herself for reacting that way as her breathing started to steady. Her body still trembled even when she could now breathe.

"I… uh…" she wanted to say something. Tell him she acted stupid. That she knew she wasn't really in danger and was being dramatic. But no words came out that didn't make her sound as pathetic as she felt.

"It's fine. You weren't ready. We can try again another time," he murmured. His hands left her face and he stood, holding a hand out to her. She took it and let him help her stand. The silence was tense as she wallowed in her embarrassment. She had to freak out over nothing, in front of Matt no less.

"Daphne, if you need to talk-"

"I'm fine," she bit out harshly. She hadn't meant to but she was angry and of course she'd lash out. He bit his lip with a tense nod as she climbed out from the ring. She stalked over to the water fountain and took a long gulp to try and calm herself down. Things were going fine until they weren't. She heaved a sigh.

"Thanks for training me," despite her words and how much she meant them, her tone was still guarded and a little brisk.

"No problem, feel free to come back when you're ready," he replied. She couldn't really read his voice. He didn't sound angry at her. He didn't sound anything. But she knew she'd been a bitch when all he'd done is help yet she couldn't find it in her to say sorry.

She swung her bag over her shoulder before leaving without a goodbye. Maybe it had been a mistake to go to him for help. He had helped though but she loathed feeling so vulnerable in front of anyone. Especially him. She knew her anger was at herself though. She felt so weak and helpless. She knew Matt wouldn't hurt her and she'd freaked out for nothing. The attack seemed to infect every part of her life and all she wanted was to close that chapter in her life and be done with it.

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

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heartsofbeskar · 4 years ago

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from the ashes

chapter 10

din djarin x fem!oc

WARNINGS: brief mention of sexual activities, graphic descriptions of injury/blood

WORDS: 5.4K

EXCERPT: The corridor, dark just a few feet ahead of them, felt like the mouth of some monster, and with each step Ten took it got closer to swallowing her whole.

Lights followed their movement, creating a bubble of illumination permanently around them. The skirt of her dress trailed gently behind her in the absence of wind, her legs occasionally breaking through the carefully placed slits. Her skin was crawling.

A/N: phew this was a bit of a beast of a chapter both in length (i think my longest chapter for this fic??) and in structure, as i was playing around with timeline inspired by bae @asta-lily (srsly check her out) — hope yall like it!!

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The cold water beat down against her bare skin, goosebumps raising across the surface. Ten sighed, leaning back against the metal wall, running her hands through her hair, pulling it.

She stood directly under the stream of water, tilting back so it washed over her face, shutting her eyes. The ghost of Mando’s fingers lingered on her skin, in her— everywhere. His voice, the words he’d said to her, the noises he’d made, echoed in her head.

I want to see you come, Ten.

Maker, she liked how her name sounded from his mouth.

Pushing forward, she braced her hands on the wall in front of her, watching the droplets race down her arms, over the scars, over her tattoo. Despite the temperature of the water, warmth began to spread from her palms, energy concentrating there.

Ten hold a palm out, facing towards the ceiling. Water dripped from her fingers, but as it began to fall on its expected trajectory, towards the floor, it curved abnormally. Slowly, drop by drop, a pool of water formed in her outstretched palm. She breathed out harshly, willing it to collect together, but she could tell she was losing her grasp on it.

The feel of cold beskar under her fingertips. A rough and modulated voice close by her ear. Heavy limbs on hers, holding her to the floor, hands moving to—

The water moved together fluidly, quickly, forming a perfect sphere, hovering just an inch above her hand. It spun slowly there, the water circulating inside the shape. The refresher light refracted through it, creating patterns on the metal walls.

“Shit.”

When she finally emerged from the refresher, Mando was gone, any evidence of their encounter on the floor of the ship effectively removed. Though Ten was sure that area would burn her feet if she walked over it.

The door to the ship’s sole cabin and sleeping space slid open with a gentle hiss, lights in the small room powering up automatically in response to her movement.

She stilled when she saw the large Mandalorian occupying the cot. He was propped against the wall, halfway to laying down, arms crossed over his chest. His vambraces sat on the floor next to him, but otherwise he hadn’t removed any armour. His chest rose gently and steadily.

He was asleep, she realized with a start.

Slowly, she padded over, feet silent as she came to stand beside the cot. She knelt down, pressing onto the thin mattress with one hand, testing. When he didn’t make any indications of waking, Ten eased the rest of her body onto the mattress as well.

Her muscles cried with relief as she sunk as far as she could into the flimsy material — still, it was better than the hammocks she was used to. Turning her back to Mando, she folded her hands under her head, closing her eyes.

A moment later, she felt a rustling beside her. Looking over, Mando was stirring, uncrossing his arms with a low groan. When he made to swing a leg off of the cot, Ten grabbed his thigh, lightly. The contact sent jolts down her arm.

“I can—” he started to protest, but she cut him off.

“Just shut up and go back to sleep.”

His body sagged back against the wall, arms going back across his chest. Ten turned away from him again. The low tone of his voice cut the silence one more time.

“I’m not going to cuddle you.”

“Good.”

—

There was a short rush of air as the doors to the elevator closed, blue lights embedded in the floor illuminating the space from below.

Ten eyed the human men in front of her warily, their backs facing her, suits crisp and clean, their hairlines perfectly manicured on their necks. They began the smooth descent down, beneath the surface.

“Fiddle with the necklace if you can hear me.”

Mando’s voice was intimately nestled in her ear, the piece of metal small enough to be tucked into the cavity. Casually, she brought her hand up, fingering the matching metallic pendant that hung low, between the exposed valley of her breasts. A fashion statement, to anyone looking.

“Good. You should be there soon. I’ve still got your position on the scanner.”

She wouldn’t admit it, but a relief filtered through her body hearing it.

The elevator slowed, the lights dimming as they approached their stop. With a soft hiss, the doors opened. A long corridor laid beyond.

“Good luck, Ten.”

—

Coruscant rapidly filled the viewport, a myriad of lights and movement spread across the planet. The sight of so many people set Ten’s teeth on edge. It had been years since she’d been here, for good reason.

The man beside her sat deadly still, as he usually did, and only the clenching of his hand where it sat atop his thigh gave away any indication of how he felt.

The tension that had saturated the air of the ship for the majority of the journey seemed to reach its crescendo as Ten brought the ship in to land on the planet, in the same docking station Tosche had used months prior.

Largely they’d avoided each other for the remainder of the flight from Nevarro, no easy feat on a ship that small. A brush of shoulders passing through the cockpit doors, a barely there touch when one of them laid in the shared cot for a rest. It felt like a string being pulled impossibly taut, each of them silently daring the other to speak about what had happened between them.

As it turned out, they were both stubborn as banthas.

It wasn’t until Mando was on the verge of lowering the ramp that Ten snapped the string.

—

The corridor, dark just a few feet ahead of them, felt like the mouth of some monster, and with each step Ten took it got closer to swallowing her whole.

“As I’m sure you can see, we take the utmost care to provide top security here,” one of the men boasted. Ten pictured how satisfying it would be to break his nose.

Instead, she said, “Did you build this place or find it?”

As the man prattled on about specifics of construction, Ten flexed her forearm, cupping her hand into her sleeve. The sound of the chip hitting the floor was drowned out by his voice.

Moments later, Mando’s voice. “It’s working. I’ve got the readings coming in. Looks like you’re in a tunnel about a hundred feet long connecting to the entrance.”

She couldn’t reply without lifting the necklace to her mouth, very effectively fucking them over, but she noted his words, drawing her own mental map of where she was headed.

“Now, for what you’re really here for,” the man who had been babbling on sent her what was no doubt supposed to be a flirty smirk. Nose definitely wouldn’t be enough, she had to imagine breaking the jaw too. He knelt over slightly, presenting his eye to a small scanner set into the wall at the end of the corridor.

Smoothly, they slid open.

—

Her hand grasped tightly onto his wrist. He turned to look at her, and Ten faltered for a moment under the weight of his gaze. She swallowed, shaking her head.

“I just need to make sure you’re not going to treat me any differently on this job. I can handle myself, Mandalorian.”

He peered down at her, still saying nothing. Maker, she wished he would say something — anything. The air felt like it had to be forced out of her lungs, like he had stolen it from her somehow, without even touching her skin.

Finally, he spoke. “And why would I treat you differently?”

Ten scoffed. “Don’t act dense, I know you’re smarter than that. You’re not the first person I’ve worked with that I’ve gotten … involved with at some point. Don’t make it complicated.”

“Oh, is that what you’re calling it? Getting involved?” He took a half step closer, broad frame filling her vision. She didn’t miss the teasing edge of his voice. “Any of those people you got involved with make you come like that on the floor of your ship?”

Heat flushed up her body, lighting up all her nerves along the way. Ten beat it down, doing her best to keep her face impassive. She wasn’t sure if it worked. Fucking Mandalorians with their fucking helmets to keep their fucking faces covered.

“You’re going to need to do a lot more than that to stand out,” she shot back, finally dropping his wrist from her hold. She reached around him, all but slamming the key code to lower the ramp. “Just … no protective bullshit, okay?”

—

Despite her somewhat … prickly exterior, Ten had found herself chasing beautiful things in all the spare moments that had allowed for it. Perhaps the seeds for it had been planted all those years ago on Yaim, where the sunlight filtered through the trees like stained glass, where the wildflowers bloomed twice a year with colours that seemed to get brighter with each passing day, where the air itself seemed to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. Wherever the origin, Ten found herself exploring the desolate moons and planets of the Outer Rim, always searching, hoping, of finding a peace she couldn’t even describe.

So when the doors opened on one of the most beautiful rooms Ten had ever seen, her breath caught in her throat.

The ceiling was draped in soft fabrics, gathering at the centre, and billowing across the expanse above them. Where they met the walls there was ornate crown moulding, periodically broken up with elaborate white statues of a variety of fearsome appearing creatures, all crouching in some form of attacking stance. Continuing down, the walls were covered with rich patterns embossed in shining gold, standing out starkly against the black walls. The floor stretched ahead of them, gleaming black marble with veins of white spindling in all directions.

“This way, gorgeous,” the taller man said, and Ten had to fight down the most violent of her instincts when he placed his hand just above the small of her back to guide her inside. He seemed to have a small shred of sense, as he stopped just short of actually touching her.

Her heels — ridiculous and too tight and impractical, but more practical footwear would have blown the cover — clicked against the floor as they entered. Eyes turned towards the new entrants and Ten’s skin prickled uncomfortably at the attention. Men dressed in ash grey uniforms scanned their eyes up and down her body, and she knew what they saw, how exposed she was.

It felt like a Bantha was standing on her lungs, expelling all the air. She couldn’t breathe.

“Hey,” came the rough voice in her ear. “I’m here. You aren’t alone in there, I’m here.”

It was a lie of course, he wasn’t there. At least not yet — he was still on the surface, trying to map out another point of access to the underground hub. But she leaned into the lie all the same, air slowly filtering back through her body.

I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.

—

The stench of the lower streets of Coruscant entered Din’s nose even through the protection of the helmet. Dirt and grease and urine from multiple species. He couldn’t fathom how Ten was able to stand it.

She walked beside him now, eyes roving over their surroundings, catching the movements of every figure that shifted around them. He noticed her lightsaber was now attached to her hip, sitting next to her blaster.

His mind wandered again to their … involvement, as she had adorably called it. If he was honest with himself, Din had been riding the high of having her beneath them, at his mercy on his fingers, for the remainder of the ride to Coruscant. And like any addict, he knew — he needed more.

But that was a problem for later, he reasoned.

The bar was tucked into a nearly indistinguishable alleyway, covered partially by someone’s laundry hanging above, and framed by a littering of empty crates someone had discarded over the area. He gestured to Ten with a jerk of his head, walking ahead of her through the narrow space.

A narrow brick alley gave way to a small, dark room. If Din hadn’t already known it was a bar, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to guess. The smells of the street were replaced with the thick scent of smoke inside, and several customers lounged out over the minimal seating, taking long drags on exotic looking pipes.

“The Mandalorian,” came a deep and ragged voice. A human man sat nearby at what served for the bar — a worn expanse of wood that looked too thin, with a poor stock of bottles on a shelf behind it. Din couldn’t see a bartender, but the man had a drink grasped in his hand all the same. He brushed his hair from where it hung in front of his eyes, and Din was surprised it didn’t drip with the amount of grease it seemed to have. “To what do I owe the favour?”

“A favour is exactly what I’m here to cash in on, actually, Sio.” Din stood in front of him, crossing his arms over his chest, letting his figure fill the immediate space. Ten came to stand beside the bar, lightly fingering its grimy surface. “You owe me one, if I’m not mistaken.”

Sio coughed, low and long. He looked significantly more agitated now. “Ah yes … I do recall that, vaguely. But first why don’t you introduce me to your little friend, huh? She looks like she needs someone who can really show her a good time, eh …” The man rose from his stool now, leering in closer to Ten. Din tensed, one hand going to his blaster and the other clenching into a fist. Ten appeared — at least on the surface — to be impassive, but he saw the flash of annoyance in her eyes.

He took another long drag of the pipe. “They don’t make ‘em like you ‘round these parts, that’s for sure…”

And then, like an absolute fucking idiot, Din saw his hand reach out towards Ten’s waist. Faster than he could react, she was bringing her hand up to the back of his head, and slamming him down face first into the wooden surface.

Blood ran from Sio’s nose, and he spit it out as it covered his mouth. “Well, she’s got a bit of bite there.”

Ten wiped her hand off on her pants. “Now you owe us two favours.”

—

She dropped another tracking chip in front of the ornately carved bar. A stark contrast to the tiny room they’d met Sio in, this bar spanned the entirety of one of the room’s walls, with a pristine surface inlaid with carved designs. Behind it there was an impressive stock of liquors from all over the galaxy, served by a contingent of bartending droids. One of them slid smoothly over to where she stood.

“Hello, may I offer you a drink?” Ten pondered it, fingers tracing over one of the bar’s patterns.

“No, thank you,” she politely declined. She turned back to face the room, elbows resting behind her. A man with a pinched face and white hair slowly approached, with a sneer she wanted desperately to slap off.

“You are a vision, my dear.” He held his hand out expectantly, and Ten swallowed thickly before placing hers on top of it. He brought it up to his lips, kissing her skin. She felt bile rise in her throat. “I haven’t seen you here before — allow me to introduce myself. Moff Ardellian.”

Ten forced a smile, hoping any discomfort in it would be written off as nerves. “Sola,” she lied smoothly. “I’m new to this part of the city.”

Moff Ardellian stepped closer to her, and Ten felt her muscles tense in response. She wasn’t sure if he noticed. His eyes roved greedily over her face. “Sola … that’s quite the scar you’ve got there. Such a shame to see such ugliness on such a pretty face.”

You should take that up with Moff Quell, who I’m sure you know intimately well. “I was a dancer for a time. An unfortunate gift from an … unhappy client.”

“You poor girl,” he tutted at her. “Well, I can assure you we don’t treat our beautiful ladies like that here. You’ll be safe whenever you’re in attendance. And … some girls make alternative arrangements to guarantee safety and comfort long term, as well.” When she didn’t make any move to respond to his vile insinuations, the Moff sent her a wink, starting to turn away again. “I’ll leave you to ponder that for the time being. Enjoy your night, Sola.”

Ten took a deep breath as the man walked away, clenching a fist at her side. She motioned to the bar droid again. “I changed my mind. Give me the strongest drink you can make.”

—

“This is stupid.”

Din bit back a laugh he knew would not be appreciated at the pure petulance currently on Ten’s face. And he could hardly blame her; the long and delicate drapes of fabric against her skin looked alien, so unusual to what Din had become used to her. But it would be a lie to say he didn’t appreciate it.

“This is a cover.”

She rolled her eyes, but she knew he was right.

The woman who had been crouched at the hem of the dress rose, retrieving a nearby jar filled with some kind of balm, by the look of it. She dipped her fingers into it, applying a generous amount onto the bare expanse of Ten’s chest, causing her to flinch.

“This is a scar salve,” she said in an accented voice. Din couldn’t make out the region. “It should temporarily remove the smaller scars across your chest, here. Won’t be enough for the face, unfortunately. You know, I know some great dermal regenerists in the city, if you’re interested.”

“I’m not,” was Ten’s clipped response. The woman cocked a skeptical eyebrow, returning the lid to the container.

“You’re almost all set. I’ll go get the details of the fake chain code.”

Then they were alone. Din eyes went up and down Ten’s body, and he was thankful for the cover of the helmet. The front of the dress dipped low, exposing the valley between her breasts, the skin there now smooth and pristine. Everywhere else, the black fabric clung to her, down her arms, over her hips, flowing gently around her legs. The room was uncomfortably warm.

Din walked closer to her, until he was just standing just behind her. One step closer and her back would be pressed into his armour. Their eyes met in the speckled mirror. He brought his arm around, showing her the long chain he held.

“This will provide an audio and visual feed, directly into my helmet. I’ve already wired it in.” He opened the chain, looping it around her neck, smoothly moving her hair back until it sat flush on her skin. “Should just look like a nice piece of jewelry. And this—” he pushed the hair off one of her ears, holding it back with a light hold as he hooked something small into her ear. “—is an audio receiving piece, so you can hear me. Also wired into the helmet.”

His hand lingered on the back of her neck, and he slowly trailed it down her spine, and outwards, coming to rest on her hip.

“You know you don’t have to do this,” he said in a low voice. He squeezed his hand. “We can make another plan.”

Her eyes softened slightly. “You and I both know this is the best plan we could have. It’s fine.”

Din nodded. He didn’t want to remove his hand. “I stand by what I said. I won’t let the Empire — whatever’s left of it — take you.”

Ten covered his hand with her own.

—

Ten made her way slowly around the room, dropping more of the tracking chips, making the least amount of polite conversation she possibly could get away with.

Now, she came to a small bathroom. Down a short hallway away from the main room, it was metallic and practical. She eyed herself in the mirror, unnerved by the made up appearance. She couldn’t help but wonder what the Mandalorian had thought of it.

She brought the communication piece of the necklace to her mouth. “That’s the whole room. I’m alone in the washroom now. Anything?”

“No access from the surface that I can see yet.” Damn. “Looks like that hallway extends further left, possibly some offices. If you can slip away, it’d be good to drop one down there.”

“Slipping away would be my pleasure.” She dropped the necklace back down, letting it settle between her breasts again. Lifting some of the fabric of the skirt, she ran her hands over the knives strapped around her thigh reassuringly. Smoothing the dress down again, she eased the door open, making sure the hallway was empty.

Ten slipped those damn heels off before continuing down the hallway, the opposite direction of the party. As she dropped another chip down, she noted the names etched into the doorways. It seemed like Mando had been right, these were offices.

Continuing at a slow pace, she scanned the names with mild interest, wondering how disruptive it would be to their mission to go into one at random and smash everything she could find.

Near the end of the corridor, where it split into two more, Ten saw a name that made her heart seize in her chest.

Dr. R. Dracko.

Mando’s voice broke into her ear. “There’s an access tunnel a level below you, 300 meters away, that leads right to the surface. I think I found the other end. All goes well, I’ll join you in a moment.”

Ten nodded dumbly, before realizing she couldn’t see him. She rested her hand on the handle of the door — there was no keypad or scanned entry, since they obviously assumed it was safe down here. She pushed it open. Unlocked.

It was unassuming inside, a small desk nestled in the corner, a powered down holo display. The only other furniture in the room was a sleek cabinet against the opposite wall. Curiously, she pulled open a drawer; Maker, there were actually papers inside.

She rifled through them, the familiar but almost forgotten feel of them strange on her hands. There was a wealth of folders, each labelled with a tab in Basic. Almost every one was classified ‘Project Inactive.”

Pulling open more drawers, she dug until, finally — ‘Project Active.” Not even bothering to look at its contents, she extracted the weightly folder from the drawer, heart pounding with adrenaline.

The increased heart rate wasn’t ideal when she turned and a knife was sunk smoothly into her abdomen.

She gasped, and pain seared through her as the knife twisted — it was in the hand of a man now standing in front of her. Gritting her teeth, she forced her eyes up to his face. It was Dracko, his nostrils flaring, an air of superiority falling onto his face.

“Little bitch,” he spat at her. “I know who you are, probably better than you do. You thought you could just come here and—” He was cut off as Ten raised her hand, energy coursing through her as she slammed him against the wall of the small room. A trickle of blood appeared, moving down his temple.

She groaned loudly, any thoughts to listeners out of her mind, as she sank down the wall behind her. The dress around the knife felt heavy as it became soaked with blood, which left her fingers red when she touched it.

It lit a fire inside of her, and tears came unbidden to her eyes at the burn of it.

Bunching up the skirt of the dress, she ripped a long piece of fabric off the bottom hem, wincing at the strain of her abdominal muscles. Her hands were shaking as she wrapped the knife where it stuck out from her, securing the makeshift stabilizer around her back.

A sheen of sweat covered her skin as more blood oozed out around the wound. She tried to stand, but a white hot flash of agony erupted from her side. Her body slammed back against the wall, and she panted deliriously.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside — the door to the office was still open. She grasped her leg, bloody fingerprints appearing on the skin, as she pulled the knife from the strap around her thigh. Ten knew she was growing much too weak to pull on the Force. This was what she had. She braced a hand against the wall as the footsteps approached just outside the office.

She raised her arm opposite the stab wound, knowing one good throw was all she was likely to get.

A blaster appeared first, the barrel scanning the room, and then — that damned silver helmet. Ten felt a moment of relief flood through her, muscles growing heavy as the adrenaline waned. The knife seemed to get sharper where it was settled in her flesh.

“Shit,” she breathed out. Mando scanned the room, wordlessly taking the pulse of Dracko where he lay in a crumpled heap.

“Fuck, Ten.” He approached her now, hands floating around her side, not touching. She laughed, but it was raspy and uneven.

“I look that good, huh?”

He shot her a look, and though the helmet looked the same as it always did, she got the meaning. No. You look really fucking bad, so shut up.

—

Getting back to the ship was a blur. Ten recognized the vague shape of bodies littering the hallways Mando let her down, the distant ringing of an alarm, the cool air as he brought her up and out of the long access shaft. They were lucky the lower levels of Coruscant didn’t look twice at a Mandalorian hauling a woman with a stab wound through the streets.

Her hands gripped the edges of the worn crate Mando sat her on. She was gasping, trying desperately to draw air into her lungs, but each inhale felt as if it were bathing the surrounding muscles in acid, slowing eating away at her body.

Mando was back now — where had he gone? When had he gone? — and crouching in front of her, something metallic in his hands. He slowly unravelled the fabric Ten had put to stabilize the knife, and she cried out.

“I know, I know,” he said in a low voice. Perhaps … soothing? She couldn’t put the pieces together in her mind to make out the tone. “I know it hurts, but I need you to stay still for me, okay? Grab here, hold as tight as you need.”

He raised one of her hands up until they met with something soft and warm. She wiped furiously at the wetness in and around her eyes, until his blurry helmet came into view. Her hand was wrapped around the fabric of his upper arm, she realized, his shoulder pauldron discarded on the floor nearby.

There was a gentle ripping noise, and Ten felt cool air on her skin. Looking down at the source, she saw he’d cut away the dress around the knife, just below her breast. The flesh there was red and mangled, the edge of the knife serrated. Shit.

“Mando, it’s … fuck—” Her eyes were glued to the wound, watching the edges expand and contract as she took shallow breaths. She felt a gloved hand on her face, urging it up. It was covered in a wetness that was no doubt her own blood, now smeared across her cheek. Mando dragged her eyes to his helmet.

“Don’t look at that. Focus on me. Okay?”

She nodded weakly, her brow furrowed tightly. Her own distorted reflection started back at her from the beskar chrome, body writhing of its own accord.

“I’m going to pull it out now, okay? On three.” She nodded, tensing as she felt the movement of his hand wrapping around the hilt of the weapon. “One—”

She screamed out as he gave a harsh pull, the sound echoing around the ship. Her hand cramped as she gripped his shirt tightly, as if she was trying to will the pain to travel somewhere else, anywhere else. It blinded her, and she could hear Mando speaking but couldn’t make out the words as he pressed onto her side. Wetness flowed down her body, outlining her leg, blood pooling on the floor.

The room spun around her, and Mando’s voice finally drifted back to her ears.

“—need to cauterize the internal— doing so well, okay— talk to me, Ten.”

She shook, forcing words up and out of her throat. “What the f— shit — fuck do you want me to say?”

“Tell me about the Mandalorians you knew.”

Ten almost — almost — had to laugh. He wanted to know .... about Mandalorians. Of course he did. She screwed her eyes shut, trying to pull the memories through the dense fog of pain.

“There were … two of them. Refugees like w—we all were, from the Great Purge of … of Mandalore. Fuck!” Her muscles seized anew as she felt burning; a real burning as she realized Mando was cauterizing. She grit her teeth, moans of pain slipping out as she slammed her head back against the wall.

“Keep going.”

“F—fuck, okay.” She tried to take a deep breath, though it still felt much too shallow. “They were like … they were like you. With the helmets and shit. But they … shit … they were on that moon for a long time. We all were.” She twisted her hand harder into his shirt, and she could feel the muscles straining underneath as he worked. “They were — ah — they were kind. Silya used to … used to tell me stories about Mandalore when I … when I couldn’t sleep. And Tinian … taught me how to throw a punch and not— not break my knuckles.”

Mando laughed at that. His hand came to grip her elbow, so tightly it almost hurt. The fire raging under skin was beginning to douse into a duller burn, embers of an inferno that glowed with a constant heat. “You’re doing so well, Ten. I’m almost done.”

Ten nodded, letting out a long breath. Her breaths felt more attainable now, more air drawn into her starving lungs.

“What happened to them? Silya and Tinian?” Mando was grabbing wrappings now, his hands gliding over the blazing skin of her torso, temporarily suppressing the fires they encountered.

“They’re dead.”

He didn’t ask anymore. Ten released her hand from where it was embedded in his shirt, the muscles aching as she flexed her fingers. She wiped a generous covering of sweat from her forehead. She dared a glance down again, thanking the Maker the area was now covered in a bandage, the skin around it shiny with bacta salve. Her breath came in pants.

Mando’s hands came back to her face, framing it. “You did well, Ten. You’re okay.” He pressed the forehead of his helm against the skin of hers, seemingly not caring about the blood and sweat that was likely to be deposited there. “I should get you a towel—”

“No,” Ten gasped, grabbing him by the elbows. “Just … stay. Please.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

For a moment they stayed there, Ten’s breath fogging against the front of his helmet. She closed her eyes, hands curling upwards around Mando’s biceps.

“I would cuddle you now, if you wanted.”

“Go fuck yourself, Mandalorian.”

—

A/N: what did i tell ya??? a beAST! thanks again for all those who read it, this is my baby and im excited its been gearing up for these stubborn mf'ers

taglist: @djarrex @pedrostories

#the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x oc #the mandalorian x original character #the mandalorian #din djarin x oc #din djarin x original character #din djarin #star wars

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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.16}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.3k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

"May I ask you something you might find rather odd?"

"Don't you always?" Robin chuckled softly. "You can ask and say anything at all, you know that. Odd isn't a thing between us anymore."

"Why does your hair smell so insufferably much like pineapple? You don't even like pineapples."

For a broken second, Robin was so surprised by the indeed quite unexpected question that she didn't react at all, then however she had to snort and finally just started laughing. Gods, what a question… whether he had meant to take the edge off the situation or not, his inquiry certainly had done just that. In a sudden mutual agreement that it might be better to let go of each other –better for whom, one might ask– they both removed their tight hold from the other and Robin took a tiny step backwards. Not enough to call it an appropriate distance, really, but enough to look at each other's faces again.

"I, uh…" She started, once she had more or less stopped laughing, and finally folded the letter and the permit back into the envelope. "I haven't really had the money to buy new shampoo after I'd run out, so I first borrowed from Jorien for half a month, and now ever since the beginning of October I've been borrowing from Cas, who unfortunately loves pineapples. That's why I smell like one currently."

"I see… Curious how I haven't noticed it before."

"Well, we don't really… get that close to each other so often." Robin shrugged, trying to suppress the sad subtones that wanted to sneak into the statement, and instead acted over it by removing her wand from the tousled damp mess on her head, now that she remembered that her hair still would have to dry at some point indeed. "And I literally just took a shower before coming here, so that should make the smell even more prominent as well. Sorry…"

"Not for that. But say, do I even want to know why you decided to take a shower in the middle of the night? On your birthday?"

"Cas smeared some sticky goo onto my face and it was really itchy and got stuck in my hair…" She rolled her eyes at the memory, and upon his questioning and slightly horrified expression, she snorted but went to explain. "It was just some kind of face mask, nothing gross! Well, actually, it was pretty vile, all pink and smelling horribly sweet, even worse than the pineapple!"

"Sounds like your evening with your roommates went exactly as expected."

"Well, part of it at least. At first we had tea and cake, which I very much enjoyed actually. They told me about the incident in class as well, even though they thought it was hilarious rather than annoying. But then I became subject to their idea of a girls' night, and that meant sticky goo and painted nails." Robin held up her hands with a humoured sigh to demonstrate Jorien's work. It actually looked quite good, or at least it had, before Robin had already chipped one nail in the shower. She couldn't bring herself to care enough to fix it though. "Then they tried to get me to talk about boys, which was the point where I shut down."

"I can imagine."

"They got me a lovely gift though; a framed photograph of the entire group. The girls and I, and Simon, Gideon and Michael. All sitting together in the great hall." Robin smiled, still very much happy about the picture. "There's so few photos of me and the people I care about. Honestly, I only have the conference photos from last year and the year prior, and either has about fifty strangers in it, but only one has you."

"Good. I doubt that I'm particularly photogenic."

"Neither am I, but I like looking at the picture nonetheless."

"You always were the most photogenic person in the entire newspaper. All three years of conferences."

"Thanks." Robin laughed, once again quite glad that it was too dark for him to really see her blushing. "Remind me to show you the horrible pictures of me as a toddler some time… You'll change your mind about me being photogenic then."

"Don't bet on it."

"Alright, I won't." Her smile turned warmer, less amused and more heartfelt. "But I'm still happy to have one more picture of the people I care about now."

"You should be. It is a nice gift indeed. An actual gift."

"Oh will you stop it now!" Robin rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, then couldn't help smiling up at him nonetheless. "I think your gift IS an actual gift! A perfect one! But if you just keep refusing to believe it, might I make a suggestion?"

"Don't you always?" He raised an eyebrow as he quoted her own words back to her with a not-smirk. "Go ahead."

"Go to Hogsmeade with me on Saturday. I know you're not overly fond of being there while the students are roaming around, but you could consider it a gift to me, if the incredible one you've already given me just won't count for you. Which I still don't understand, by the way." She suggested, then went on with a small smirk. "I'm sure I can sell some stuff to the guy in that ingredients shop you sent me to forever ago."

"I will have to see it to believe it. Saturday it is." He replied and the corners of his lips quirked up more and more. "The man you're speaking of is a sleazy individual, ripping people off wherever he can, and getting him to pay a decent price will be practically impossible. But I will enjoy seeing you try."

"I can get him to pay any price you name." Robin teased with a nonchalant shrug. "I don't know what prices to set anyway, nor what the different objects are worth in theory. Just give me a number I can tell him, and you'll see me getting him to pay it."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"Wanna bet?" She quirked an eyebrow at him, smirking openly with just a tad of mischief in her tone. There was no way she would lose this, she was certain of that. "If you deem me so unconvincing, you should have nothing to lose."

"If you insist. What stakes shall we set?"

"Loser buys the winner a drink afterwards, how about that? We should both be able to afford that much at that point."

"Agreed. It should make for an interesting Saturday either way." Snape seemed to be entirely amused by the idea at this point, and Robin wondered if he was actually serious about doubting her in the first place. He did know better than to question her abilities, especially those she actually believed in herself, and somehow she had the feeling that agreeing to this bet was his way of encouraging her to do her best on Saturday. But he might also just be wanting to buy her a drink. The thought made Robin grin even more, and she decided that she was fine with either version.

"I hope I'll make it to Saturday in the first place…" She said then, remembering that it was only Friday now, roughly around two in the morning. "The girls have made some plans for my birthday, but after this evening, I'm not sure if I will survive any more of their ideas."

"To your luck, they will be busy with classes for most of the day, much like myself unfortunately. Are you going to be assisting Pomona with the second years again?"

"Yeah, it's the only thing I have to do. It's fun, actually, when the students aren't being idiots. Gonna be an easy day."

"Perhaps you should go to bed now nonetheless. As much as I would like to sit down now and keep you here until morning, you certainly would be better off with some sleep before your roommates drag you into whatever schemes they have set up for the morning."

"Yeah… I should go." Robin sighed, and this time she didn't even bother trying to hide her sadness about the fact. "Don't forget about the salt thing though, yes? And please tell McGonagall; even if just for the sake of helping me keep my promise."

"I will." He replied as he followed Robin to the door, keeping his eyes on her as she stepped out into the hallway. "If your roommates haven't already claimed every single minute of your day by then, perhaps we could take a walk in the afternoon."

"I would like that very much." Robin smiled up at him too happily, in too much excitement, but she couldn't bring herself to care. He already knew that she loved spending time with him; he just didn't know all of the reasons. "But for now, goodnight."

"Get out of my sight already."

"As you wish." She grinned at his feigned annoyance and not-smirk, then made her way down the hallway and back towards her room, clutching her wand in one hand and the letter in the other. Surprisingly enough, this had been a great start to her birthday after all.

When she lay in bed a little while later, she could still feel the shadow of his touch along her spine, the brush of his fingertips on her sides, and it took her a while to fall asleep like that, when part of her mind wouldn't shut up and instead kept on wondering what it would've felt like without all the fabric in between his skin and her own.

… … …

Morning, as always, came way too soon, and Robin was woken up by two overly excited girls who then proceeded to dictate her every move. Luckily she could talk them out of painting her face this year, but they still put up her hair into an intricate braid before they finally made their way to breakfast while playing some kind of game Robin never quite understood the rules to in the first place. When they arrived in the great hall, they still were terribly early for once, as they sat down at the Ravenclaw table with the boys, who each proceeded to congratulate Robin as well, and she in return thanked them all, especially Simon for the idea with the picture.

Once the hall had filled up with students and staff alike –Robin took careful notice of the fact that McGonagall was once again sitting next to Snape, chatting away amicably while the latter looked indifferent as always– the beginning of the meal was announced, and the foods and drinks were sent up from the kitchens. The moment everyone had been waiting for had finally arrived, and when Robin looked around, she saw more excited faces than she dared to count. Obviously the news about the prank had made their rounds among the student body, and spread even beyond the Ravenclaw table. In the careful attempt not to be entirely obvious about it, Robin then observed Snape and McGonagall. Both of them went with coffee this morning, and if she wasn't mistaken, they both focused on their mugs a little too long before moving to drink at last. Neither of them pulled a face, nor did McGonagall falter in her one sided chat with the bored man next to her, which relieved Robin quite a bit. Once she looked over at Jorien, the girl mouthed a quiet 'thank you', to which Robin answered with a single subtle nod. Then both their attention was drawn back to the head table, when a happy coincidence decided that it should be Morgan who first made a show of spitting out his salted coffee in an indignant spout. A wave of giggles ran through the student body, and while more professors followed Morgan's example mere seconds later, the giggles turned into straight out laughter. McGonagall made an attempt to hide the fact that she had known in advance, going neatly along with the other professors' surprise and outrage, while Snape however merely let his eyes travel over the students in a menacing glare. When his eyes caught Robin's, however, his face brightened up ever so slightly with a not-smirk for a moment, then he continued his cold inspection of the tables and Robin turned back to her breakfast. Perhaps seeing Morgan spitting out his coffee had made her morning a little better after all, and knowing that Snape had succeeded to get McGonagall, out of all people, to play along with this scheme definitely made her both happy and proud.

The day then continued on quite as good as it had started. During the herbology class she helped with, Sprout not only congratulated her right away, but also gifted her a beautiful scalpel-like knife that was small in size, but sharper than Robin thought possible. The gesture honestly surprised her, but the herbology professor insisted that she couldn't continue watching Robin use that old rusty thing she had been using for both her in- and out-of-class work for the last two years. A little overwhelmed but very much grateful, Robin finally accepted the highly useful gift, and stored it in her pocket for now, just before first students filed into the greenhouse.

The next surprise came during lunch, when Robin found yet another wrapped gift waiting for her in her spot at the Ravenclaw table, where her small group of appreciated people was already awaiting her arrival. Upon Robin's inquiry about the package, they all shrugged and said it had just suddenly been there some time after they'd sat down. Her name was written on a piece of paper that was tugged into the wrapping, but she didn't quite recognise the handwriting. Odd… why were so many people giving her gifts for her birthday, all of a sudden? She appreciated it, of course, but it made her wonder nonetheless. Then, encouraged by her overly curious friends, Robin finally unwrapped the gift, only to reveal a small and desperately old looking book. 'The Unforgivable Curses: A detailed study'... The title alone made the hairs in Robin's neck stand up, while the small group of people around here was simply confused. Of course they understood the title, but they were just as clueless about who would give such a book to Robin as she herself was. There was no note, no letter, nothing but the slip of paper with her name on it, which she tugged in between the pages after briefly flipping through them in search for any more pleasant or unpleasant surprises. But it was just a book, a quite rare one if Robin wasn't entirely mistaken, and certainly not of the kind you would find in a school library. If anyone saw her with this, especially one of the professors, they might just think she was up to no good; thus Robin stored it away in her backpack, making sure to inspect it more thoroughly later today. Preferably together with Snape, he knew way more about these things than anyone else, and he appreciated a good mystery quite as much as she did.

After lunch, when Robin was just about to head to her room to pass the time and perhaps change into something warmer before Snape would be done with his classes for the day, she found herself stopped in her path, surprised yet again by something she hadn't quite expected. This time it was McGonagall who, after a quick glance down the hallway, first congratulated Robin, and then also thanked her for the indirect warning this morning. What surprised Robin however was when the professor took her hand, placed a small and surprisingly cold object in it, and then closed her fingers around it even before Robin could see what it was.

"You did not receive this from me, do you understand?" She asked with an intent look at Robin, who in return merely had the time to nod before the professor turned on her heels and was off down the hallway a second later.

Confused, Robin opened her hand again and her eyes fell onto a key that was now resting in her palm, heavy and cold and no less ancient than the book she had already received an hour earlier. What on earth was going on here that she was missing? What was this key for, in a school that –as far as Robin knew– locked all doors with magic anyway? And why was McGonagall so keen on keeping it a secret? Robin couldn't answer either question, but she hid the key in her locket anyway, to keep it safe until she knew what she was to do with it. Then she finally made for her room, with the intention to get some long overdue rest at last.

… … …

Shortly before four in the afternoon, Robin quietly let herself into Snape's office during the last minutes of the class he was teaching next door. She had indeed changed into something warm enough to be comfortable outside (for once!), and then thought it a nice idea to pick him up here to go for her promised walk. That at least would give them a good two hours before dinner, and thus enough time to actually get away from the castle for a little while. Content with her plan, Robin took her perch on the edge of the desk, not bothering to sit down properly for the little time she planned to stay here. It wasn't long indeed before the door between office and classroom flew open, and a very much annoyed Snape stormed into the room, throwing the door shut behind himself again without looking back. Still it took a few seconds for his eyes to find Robin's, but then he stopped in his track while the tension remained written all over his features.

"Don't." Was all he said in a deep and warning tone, and Robin knew very well what he meant, but she just couldn't help it. She had to smile, brightly and without any attempt to hide it, and he rolled his eyes in return, the tension fleeting, while he tried not to smile in return. "You are insufferable. Just let me be angry in peace."

"I'd rather not. Because I can't be happy when you're upset, so logically I will have to see to it that you're happy. For my own sake." She shrugged easily, and her eyes followed him as he moved to drop a stack of notebooks next to her on the desk. "And I'm here to claim what's been promised to me. Before you can find a way to get out of it."

"Whyever would I want to? Wasn't it I who asked for a moment of your precious time in the first place?" He raised his eyebrows at her for a second, then grabbed his warmer robes from the back of his chair. "I would hardly want to miss the narrow time frame I was given to spend with you."

"Oh come on, I'm not that busy! You're the one who had to teach all day… I've just been in my room ever since lunch."

"Napping, as it seems." He quipped, finally unable to keep the not-smirk off his face, and Robin felt called out immediately.

"How the hell do you know that again?"

"Your hair tells me all about it. Admittedly, the difference from lunch to now is very subtle, especially with the braid, but I know what you look like when you wake up. I've seen it before."

The blush that rose to Robin's face immediately was accompanied by a wave of tingles that were equally a result of his words and her own imagination. Yes, they had woken up in the same room before. But not together, in the way she would've liked. Not the time to think about that now.

"Well, you caught me." Robin finally replied, forcing away the previous string of thoughts. "I was napping because I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I'm fine with little sleep, generally, but less than two hours isn't enough even for me. With the two herbology classes of the first and second years this morning, on top of two meals with the girls, I honestly just needed some rest."

"What kept you from getting a good night's sleep in the first place?" He asked in return, as they left the office and started making their way outside, unseen as always, through the many rooms and passages Robin found herself actually able to remember at this point. She had no idea how Snape even knew about all these shortcuts and secret paths in the castle, but she was glad to have learned about them too. Wandering around unseen was a lot easier like this.

"Oh, you know… just too many thoughts spinning in my mind." She shrugged, careful not to let slip that it had been thoughts about him that had kept her awake. Thoughts about them, together.

"I understand. Your visit also left me thinking for quite a while." He said, as they arrived at the foot of the hill, under the open grey sky at last. "I have come to the conclusion, for example, that you were right. My gift to you may be considered a gift indeed."

"Where did that change of mind come from?"

"I couldn't find an argument against yours. Giving someone a gift is an act of caring, and as you rightly so pointed out, caring extends way beyond the material. Thus a gift should be judged by the amount of care put into it, not its material worth."

"That's pretty much what I was trying to say last night, yes." Robin smiled up at him, doing her best not to trip over anything while they made their way towards their by now common favorite place outside the castle. The shoreline of the lake. "I received three more gifts today, even though I'm not so sure if the latter two go by our definition of 'gift' in that sense. The care as well as the message behind them are kinda, well, untranslatable to me. Anyway, I've been dying to tell you about it all day."

"I'm listening. And intrigued, seeing as once again you just have to build up suspense."

"Well, first there was Sprout." Robin started, in ignorance of his second comment, and pulled the delicately ornamented knife out of her robes, showing it to Snape with a smile. "I was quite surprised that she got me a gift at all, to be honest. We've gotten a bit closer through my assistance in her classes, but I didn't think she liked me enough to even remember my birthday, leave alone to get me anything."

"She gushes about you all the time actually, in the staff room, or during meals… It seems to be one of her favourite pastimes to tell everyone, especially me, about your brilliant work." Snape replied, then handed the knife back to Robin who slipped it back into her pocket. "I'm not surprised that she would give you a present such as this; she holds you in a higher regard than she does with most of her colleagues."

"I certainly appreciate it. The gift, and that she's obviously quite fond of me too. Especially since the other two items that were given to me today are way more confusing in their nature and their circumstances."

"I know you received a book during lunch. What was that about?"

"I haven't got even the slightest idea. Nobody knows who it's from or why it was given to me, and I was hoping you could help me solve this mystery." She said, and summoned the object in discussion from her bag, once again handing it to Snape. "There's a piece of paper inside with my name on it, perhaps the handwriting will tell you more."

He stopped walking once his eyes fell onto the title of the book, and he inspected it for a moment longer until he looked up at Robin once again, in sincere surprise. "I have heard of this book, but admittedly I believed it to be nothing more than a myth. It still might be a mere joke; we will have to find out about that."

"What's special about it? It probably contains a bit more information than we are taught here at school, but that can't be it, right?"

"Supposedly, it contains methods to resist all three of the unforgivable curses. I highly doubt that rumour however, for obvious reasons."

"Obvious to you, perhaps. Enlighten me."

"If there was a way you could cheat a curse that was banned by the ministry, wouldn't they have an interest in making that knowledge known and thereby eradicate the usefulness of such curses in the first place?"

"That definitely makes sense. But perhaps they also believe the book and thus the methods to be nothing more than a myth? Either way, I have this book now, and I have no idea who gave it to me."

"I could give you an answer to that even without looking at the handwriting." Snape scoffed, but opened the book and inspected the snippet of paper nonetheless. "Quite obviously, Professor Dumbledore has an interest in it that you become better acquainted with these curses. I don't have to tell you that this isn't a good sign."

"No…" Robin breathed in return, and if she was honest with herself, she could also have guessed by herself that it was the headmaster who had given the book to her. "If Dumbledore wants me to read this, I bloody better should. No matter what his intention behind it is."

"Indeed. I would ask him about it, but he hasn't been letting me in on anything of importance for a while now, and I doubt that he would give me an honest answer even if I tried. We are better off drawing our own conclusions from now on. May I read the book, once you have?"

"Obviously! It's really not much of a gift and more of a homework assignment the headmaster expects us both to do."

"An oddly fitting way to describe it. Tell me, if that was the second 'gift', what is the third?"

"Something I understand even less." She sighed, then fiddled the key out of her locket to hand it over too. "This was given to me without a comment, without context, and with the instruction to not reveal who gave it to me."

"That certainly-..."

"It was McGonagall." Robin shrugged with one shoulder, giving him a small smile which only widened as his brows furrowed in confusion. "I'm not keeping secrets from you, and she certainly knows that. But I have every intention to keep her involvement a secret from absolutely everyone else."

"If she was concerned about keeping it a secret in the first place, it likely means that Dumbledore doesn't know. This in return means that whatever his reason might be for not wanting you to have the key, it isn't to your advantage. But the key likely is."

"Why do you think so?"

"Dumbledore has long lost his conscience between the bigger picture and his own ambitions, but Minerva will do what she can to protect the innocent from any misfortune. And if said misfortune was caused or tolerated by the headmaster, I believe she will go against his wishes to act on her own conscience instead. Put differently, Dumbledore's concern lies with the school, and its place in the grand scheme of things. Minerva's concern lies with the learning and wellbeing of both students and staff."

"But… that would mean that Dumbledore is willingly letting something bad happen to me. And McGonagall is trying to protect me from it, even though Dumbledore doesn't want her to."

"So far my theory at least, but I have no proof of it other than both our past experiences. It certainly would make sense in the context of both her own words after the incident with Morgan on the first night of term, and also the fact that Dumbledore gave you the book now."

"Oh great…" Robin groaned under her breath and let herself fall back against the tree behind her. "What have I done that makes me everyone's favourite victim? First Morgan, now Dumbledore, and well… There's literally an entire school full of people to pick on! Why do they keep choosing me?"

"I have another question for you. Why does Minerva believe that an old key will help you against either of them?"

"Yes. Great! Thank you for making matters even more complicated." She rolled her eyes with a huff, but felt bad for it immediately. Time to be better than her emotions. "Sorry… that was really unfair. None of this is your fault."

"It's quite alright." He replied calmly and took the remaining two steps to stand in front of Robin, handing her the book and the key. "I can't say I'm not equally concerned about these developments."

"I just can't get rid of the feeling that it all comes down to Morgan somehow. If McGonagall is the proof of a connecting point, back on the day of the welcoming feast and today, it means that Dumbledore sees Morgan as he is, as a threat, but doesn't want to do anything about it. Not because he doesn't care about Morgan's actions, but because he has some grand scheme in mind where Morgan is a chess piece of yet unknown importance and I'm just a casualty he's willing to sacrifice for whatever greater cause. And McGonagall doesn't want that to happen, but she also can't tell me about it because he doesn't want her to. Does that even make any sense? This is a school and not some bloody thriller!" She scoffed as she returned the book to her bag and the key to her locket, then however didn't lean back against the tree. There was too much tension in her body, too much anxiety in her mind, and thus she simply looked up at Snape with an almost sad expression. "Honestly, what am I missing here? I just… I don't understand what's going on anymore."

"Right now, all that matters is that you are out here, with me. You are supposed to have an enjoyable birthday and not a mental breakdown over people who definitely do not deserve it." He said while lightly tracing the outside of her hand with one finger, and when the gesture made Robin smile instinctively, he took her hand entirely and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We will find answers to all the questions, given the right time and opportunity. You and me together, like always. Yes?"

"Yes." Robin sighed, and her smile broadened into a real one that captured the rest of her face as well. "Let's walk on then, shall we? You could tell me what the fifth years did that was so terribly annoying during your last class."

"The better question would be what they didn't do to annoy me. I cannot believe I have to get those dunderheads through their OWLs at the end of the year." He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and slowly let go of Robin's hand as they sauntered on, along the shoreline. Oh well… Robin was happy about the gesture nonetheless; as small and fleeting as it had been, it had been initiated entirely by him for once.

"You better start telling me then." She suggested, quirking an eyebrow at him with a smile. "If it's such a long list. What did they do wrong this time?"

"Would you like me to answer chronologically or alphabetically?"

_____________________________

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch36: I Bid You Farewell And Good Luck, Morons. Part 1- It’s Like A Pirate Had A Baby With An Angel.

Intro: Thor wakes up on a strange ship, surrounded by even stranger people, a talking tree and a rabbit. Meanwhile, back on Earth, the fight to save Vision is won and the group make their way back to the compound to understand what exactly it is that they’re facing.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So I HAD to write Thor and Tony’s POV over the IW chapters too, because, frankly, they had some of THE best scenes in Infinity War, and I love that freaking Norse God Himbo and chaotic Stark chemistry so bad! I know this is Katie and Steve’s fic, but Steve had so little screen time in this film all things considered…we were so robbed!!! Once again, I can’t thank @angrybirdcr enough for her edits, they’re awesome!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 35

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Thor wasn’t dead. But he felt like it. Every inch of his body ached and when he was jerked back to consciousness for a moment, just one split moment, he thought he saw Little Stark. Only it wasn’t her. The woman had dark hair, yes, but as he focussed he realised she looked nothing like the woman he loved dearly as a sister. This wench had huge eyes and antenna dangling from her forehead. And, whilst he knew it had been a while since he had seen his friend, she wouldn’t have changed that much.

Finding his feet he looked around, chest heaving, at the band of people stood in front of him; a woman with green skin and red hair, a man with grey/blue skin covered in red designs, a tree creature- a Flora Colossus unless he was mistaken- which was off to the side draped over a chair, some kind of furry, animal thing- a rabbit maybe- and finally a man who appeared to be a normal, human being. That was until he opened his mouth and Thor realised he was probably the most stupid human being he had ever encountered.

His rescuers had offered him soup, and then when he had explained about Thanos, the green skinned lady called Gamora had told Thor what the Titan wanted the stones for. Which she knew, because she his daughter.

Thanos had a daughter. Interesting.

“Families can be tough,” Thor spoke wisely, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Before my father died, he told me that I had a half-sister that he imprisoned in Hell. Then she returned home, stabbed me in the eye so, I had to kill her.” He shrugged. “That’s life though isn’t it I guess? Round and round, but I feel your pain.”

The human, Peter Quill, pushed his way between Gamora and Thor, and looked at her “I feel your pain, as well, because, I mean it’s not a competition, but I’ve been through a lot. My father killed my mother, and then I had to kill my father. And that was hard. Probably even harder than having to kill a sister. Plus, I, came out with both of my eyes.”

Thor wasn’t paying attention. The man was clearly a moron, and he’d just noticed he had bent the spoon in the bowl of soup and was having a flashback to the time he had tried to bend the Captain’s shield. Little Stark had laughed so much at how annoyed he had gotten when he failed that she had cried. And then, to make it worse, a few days later the Captain had managed to move Mjolnir. Just a fraction, but it moved. No one had seen it, bar Little Stark of course, but there was something there, Thor was sure. Steve Rogers was a man worthy of a lot of things, but his hammer was complicated. You have to prove your worth. That had been explained to him by his Father the day he had given it to him. Of course, he hadn’t realised then that Eitri had actually made it for Hela first.

Eitri… Oh, yes!

“I need a hammer, not a spoon.” Thor mumbled, as the idea took hold and he looked at the pod at the back of the ship. “How do I open this thing?” He began pressing random buttons on the screen next to the door. “Is there some sort of a four-digit code? Maybe a birth date or something?”

"What are you doing?” the rabbit animal, Rocket asked.

“Taking your pod.” Thor replied nonchalantly.

And then there was an argument in which the moron Quill tried to imitate Thor’s deeper voice telling him he could not take the pod, but Thor was going to take the pod anyway because he was the God of Thunder after all, and then the lady Gamora cut them off quite rightly directing the focus back to Thanos by stating they needed to find out where he was going next.

But Thor had already thought of that. “Knowhere,” he answered as he brushed past Quill and over to the refrigerator he had seen Gamora get his soup from.

“He must be going somewhere.” Mantis argued innocently.

“No,” Quill shook his head and Thor noted his stupid voice was back to normal. “Knowhere? It’s a place. We’ve been there. It sucks. Excuse me, that’s our food.” He jabbed, suddenly noticing what Thor was doing.

“Not anymore.” Thor shrugged, stuffing it into a backpack he found.

“Thor!” Gamora cut across the pair of them again. “Why would he go to Knowhere?”

“Because for years, the Reality Stone has been safely stored there with a man called the Collector.” Thor stated.

“If it’s with the Collector, then it’s not safe.” Quill snorted. “Only an idiot would give that man a stone.”

“Or a genius.” Thor shrugged.

“How do you know he’s not going for one of the other stones?” Gamora asked.

“There’s six stones out there.” Thor began to explain, “Thanos already has the Power Stone because he stole it, last week, when he decimated Xandar.”

He didn’t missed the shocked and horrified look the group shared with one another.

“He stole the Space Stone from me, when he destroyed my ship and slaughtered half my people. The Time and Mind Stones, are safe on Earth. They’re with the Avengers.”

“The Avengers?” Quill asked.

“They’re Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.”

“Like Kevin Bacon?” Mantis called out.

“Errr he may be on the team now, I don’t know.” Thor shrugged, having no idea who the man named after a breakfast meat was. “I haven’t been there in a while. And as for the Soul Stone, well no one’s ever seen that. No one even knows where it is. Therefore, Thanos can’t get it. Therefore, he’s going to Knowhere. Hence, he’ll be getting the Reality Stone. You’re welcome.”

“Then we have to go to Knowhere, now.” Gamora stated, looking around.

“Wrong. Where we have to go is Nidavellir.” Thor picked up the backpack.

“That’s a made up word.” Drax, the blue man countered.

“All words are made up.” Thor smiled, slinging the backpack onto his back.

“Nidavellir is real?” The animal called Rocket’s eyes grew wide and he jumped up onto the table and looked at Thor. “Seriously? I mean, that place is a legend. They make the most powerful, horrific weapons to ever torment the Universe. I would very much like to go there, please.”

“The rabbit is correct.” Thor grinned at Rocket’s excitement. “And clearly the smartest among you. Only Eitri the Dwarf can make me the weapon I need.” He turned to the furry animal. “I assume you’re the captain, Sir?”

Rocket grinned and nodded, “You’re very perceptive.”

“You seem like a noble leader. Will you join me on my quest to Nidavellir?”

“Let me just ask the captain. Oh, wait a second, it’s me!” Rocket grinned. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

“Wonderful.” Thor beamed.

“Uh except that I’m the captain,” Quill chipped in

“Quiet!” Thor was now beyond bored of the moron.

“And that’s my backpack.” Quill continued pointing to the bag that Thor was stealing.

“Quill, sit down.” Rocket tapped at the pad and keying in the digits to open the pod.

“Look, this is my ship. And I’m not going to - wait, what kind of weapon are we talking about here?” Quill looked round.

“The Thanos-killing kind.” Thor smiled.

Boy, was it going to be a big, fucking weapon like no one had ever seen before…

“Don’t you think that we should all have a weapon like that?” Quill frowned.

“You lack the strength to wield them. Your bodies would crumble as you minds collapsed into the madness.” Thor shook his head.

“Is it weird that I wanna do it even more now?” Rocket asked.

“Erm, a little bit weird. Yeah.” Thor looked down at him, frowning.

“If we don’t go to Knowhere and Thanos retrieves another stone, he’ll be too powerful to stop.” Gamora stepped forward.

"He already is.” Thor shrugged.

“Look, I got it figured out.” Rocket interrupted, looking at Gamora. “We got two ships, and a large assortment of morons. Me and Groot will go with the Pirate Angel here, and the morons will go to Knowhere to try and stop Thanos. Cool? Cool.”

“So cool.” Thor grinned before he climbed into the pod.

“For the record,” Quill said leaning down to Rocket, “I know that you’re only going with them because it’s where Thanos isn’t.”

“You know, you really shouldn’t talk that way to your captain, Quill.” Rocket smirked, walking backwards and gesturing outwards with his arms. “Come on, Groot. Put that game down. You’ll rot your brain,”

As Rocket sat down Thor nodded out of the pod to the rest of the people on the ship. “I bid you farewell and good luck, morons. Bye.”

******

It wasn’t hard for the team to track Wanda, her red power flashing bright against the dark sky over Edinburgh City Centre, and as the jet followed her movements, the four friends saw her spiralling through the sky with Vision and crashing through the train station roof, just as Sam put the jet on the ground.

Within seconds the Ex-Avengers were sprinting off the jet.

“Katie, Nat, take the side!” Steve yelled, as he vaulted over the railings at the edge of the road running down onto the bottom half of the concrete ramp which led to the station. “Sam, up high and remember, we protect Vision at all costs!”

“Got em.” Sam spoke over the coms. “Platform seven, near the café.”

Steve vaulted over another set of barriers, the station now deserted thanks to the evacuation taking place by the local police. As he ran onto one of the walkways over the lines, he was just in time to see two of the aliens crash through the station roof. Weighing up his options, he realised it was going to be quicker for him to hop down onto the platform he was currently overheard, and jump across the lines to help. He swung his legs over the railings and landed easily, looking up. Across from him he could see Natasha and Katie emerging to the right, as Wanda stood and moved protectively in front of Vision, building power in her hands. An express train whizzed past him and he stood still, waiting and it wasn’t long before the taller, blue looking woman spotted him, and she launched her spear over the platform. Steve easily snapped his left shoulder back whilst leaning over his body with his right, catching the staff in his hand.

“Heads up.” Sam muttered, and as Wanda and Vision turned to see Steve step out from the shadows, fury lining his face, Sam swooped in and kicked one of the aliens across the platform and through a closed café’s security gate, causing tables and chairs to go flying, before he spun and started to fire on the other alien.

Steve launched the weapon he had caught across the tracks where Natasha caught it and stabbed the second assailant in the gut as Katie moved in to head off the other who was stalking back towards them. The weapon Natasha had been using flew back into the alien’s hands and Katie ducked as she swung, jabbing her in the back of the leg with an electric powered escrima stick. The alien let out a yell, stumbled slightly and Steve cleared the platform in an easy leap, rolling and scooping up the second assailant’s staff from the floor, holding it up to block the blow that the creature aimed at Katie. He grit his teeth, planting his legs to absorb the power of the hit, as Katie rolled to the side, jumped up and the two of them began to fight the alien, joined shortly by Natasha. Steve had to admit, the woman (if you could call her that) was a force to be reckoned with, but the three of them were just about getting the upper hand when they heard Sam yell.

“DUCK!”

The three of them did so and Sam flew in hard, kicking the woman backwards where she fell and scuttled over to her fallen friend. Sam landed next to Katie, drawing both his submachine pistols on the couple.

“Get up” The alien instructed to her fallen partner, her voice was deep.

“I can't.” His gravelly, robotic voice replied.

“We don’t wanna kill you.” Natasha spoke coolly “But we will”.

“You’ll never get the chance again.” The female levelled them, with a cold glare and with that a beam shot down from the hole in the station roof and the two were transported upwards. The weapon Steve was holding also shot out of his hand. He frowned in surprise for a moment, looking at his hand then upwards as the beam of light disappeared and the ship sped off.

“Can you stand?” Sam asked Vision as Katie replaced her sticks and walked towards Wanda and the android. When Vision shook his head, Sam moved forward to help him up.

Supported by Wanda and Sam, Vision looked over at Steve, Natasha and Katie, electricity shimmering over his surface. He’d been badly damaged in the fight, and as he spoke his voice distorted.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Steve took a deep breath and nodded. His face stern, but his eyes were much softer than his expression and Katie knew why. It had been a while since anyone other than Sam, Nat or Wanda had called him Captain.

Steve looked at the android, he might have been damaged but they had the stone, and that was the main thing. Nodding, he spoke. “Let’s get you on the jet.” His voice was soft and he moved to let Sam and Wanda support Vision on their way past him, Natasha following.

Katie hung back a little, trying to stop the light-headedness she was feeling from washing over her.

“You okay?” Steve turned to her as she blinked.

“Yeah, just took a whack that’s all. “I’m fine.” She assured him as they took up the rear of the group, her fingers lacing into his.

Once Vision was safely settled in a seat at the side, Sam dropped into the pilot’s seat. Katie hit the button to close the ramp as the Jet rose into the air.

“I thought we had a deal.” Natasha spun angrily to Wanda. ”Stay close, check in. Don’t take any chances.”

“I’m sorry. We just wanted time.” The younger woman said gently.

Katie glanced at Steve, he was stood up in the middle of the jet, hands on the buckle of his utility belt, staring seemingly at nothing but clearly contemplating something.

“Where to, Cap?” Sam asked.

Steve looked up, he glanced at Sam then locked eyes with Katie as he spoke one word, one simple word that they had all been waiting to hear for almost two years.

“Home”

*****

After a few hours, with the morning sky being the only thing in sight, Sam started to lower the jet through thick white clouds and Katie couldn’t help but inhale sharply when the compound began to take shape as she watched out of the front window. It looked the same. The buildings, the grounds…she wasn’t sure why she had expected anything to change, maybe because it felt like everything had changed for them, but either way, there it was. The exact same as the last time she had seen it.

Steve noticed her demeanour change slightly as they landed. She stood up straight, her shoulders squaring as if she was about to face an onslaught. And they were, in a way. On their way Steve had called Bruce to tell him that they had Vision and were heading back, but had had no idea what they were heading back to, nor did he care. Be it Ross, police, the army, whatever, Steve was done bowing to anyone’s will, he was over playing other people’s tunes. The two years they had spent hidden had shown them all that they could operate on their own if required, and he wasn’t afraid to fight anyone who got in his way.

They stepped off the ramp and strode over the lawn, Katie taking a deep breath as she looked around. So many emotions flooded her system, she couldn’t explain or identify half of them. Memories flashed in front of her eyes, visions of long summer nights spent outside in the garden and on the BBQ patio until sunrise. Laughs during team dinners. Sam and Wanda collaborating on pranks. Training sessions with the team and Vision reading Tolkien aloud to Wanda before asking questions about humanity’s love of fiction. Walks and picnics and other things in the ground, just her and Steve. Their wedding, God their wedding! Frequent visits from Tony, bringing in new ideas and improved gadgets. Getting back safe after being out on a long mission. Feeling relaxed and at ease.

Feeling at home.

Steve’s arm curled round his wife for a moment before he pressed a kiss to the side of her head as Vision opened the door.

“Still no word from Vision?”

“Satellites lost him somewhere over Edinburgh.”

“On a stolen Quinjet with four of the world’s most wanted criminals.” “You know they’re only criminals because you’ve chosen to call them that, right, sir? “

“My God, Rhodes, your talent for horseshit rivals my own.”

The sound of the call between Ross and Rhodey echoed down the corridor reaching the group that were making their way through to the lab.

“If it weren’t for those Accords, Vision would’ve been right here.” Rhodey shot back and Katie glanced back at Vision as the sounds the voices grew louder as they neared their destination.

“I suspect it will be a Hollo Call.” Vision said gently, answering Katie’s unasked question. His suspicions were proven correct as they rounded the corner and the lab came into view. Rhodey was stood across from where the holographic image of Secretary Ross was facing off against him.

"You have second thoughts?” Ross was challenging Rhodey, who smiled simply as his eyes shot sideways. Steve strode forward, his presence as intimidating as ever, and the first thing Rhodey noticed was just how dark he looked. Gone was the upstanding, All American Hero, and in its place was someone much harder, far rougher round the edges. Kiddo looked different too. Her hair was shorter and she looked slimmer.

“Not anymore.” He grinned.

The holographic Ross followed Rhodey’s gaze and his eyes fell on Steve who was stood next to Katie at the front of the group, Natasha, Wanda, Sam and Vision behind them. Steve raised his chin a little defiantly and moved to take his power stance, feet apart, hands on his belt, before he greeted Ross politely.

“Mr. Secretary"

Katie couldn’t help the smirk on her face as she watched Ross attempting to cover up the shock he had clearly felt at the group of outlaws turning up again. She locked eyes with Rhodey who gave her the smallest of winks before he glanced back at Ross who was shaking his head slightly as he approached Steve, his holographic form almost trying to square up to him. Steve simply raised his chin further and looked down from the steps he was stood on.

"You got some nerve.” Ross sniffed, staring up at him “I’ll give you that.”

“You could use some of that right now.” Katie shot back bluntly, Ross turned his head to face her for a second. She held his gaze and arched an eyebrow until he turned back to Steve.

“The world’s on fire.” Ross said incredulously. “And you think, you can just walk back in here and all is forgiven?”

Steve levelled the secretary with a firm gaze. “I’m not looking for forgiveness.” his voice took on a threatening tone as he spoke “And I’m way past asking for permission.”

At that point the smirk on Katie’s face grew even wider as she stole a glance up at her husband, pride swelling in her chest as he continued, stoic and unyielding.

“Earth just lost her best defender, so we’re here to fight. And if you wanna stand in our way,” he stepped down to be at level with the hologram, and stared it square in the eyes “We’ll fight you, too.”

Ross was practically foaming at the mouth as his eyes went to Rhodey and he spat out his order, “Arrest them.”

“All over it.” Rhodey promised nonchalantly before shutting off the hologram, shortly after a beeping noise sounded from the computers.

“That’s a court-martial.” He informed the group as he slapped the back of his right hand into his left palm, though his tone said told Katie that he blatantly couldn’t have cared less for Ross’ demands. There was a short pause as the group glanced down at their friend, Steve smiling softly, before Rhodey’s face split into a huge smile of his own.

“It’s great to see you, Cap.” He stepped forward.

“You too, Rhodey.” Steve answered, taking the last two steps down before he shook Rhodey’s hand. Katie threw herself at her brother’s best friend and he gave her a huge bear hug before he looked down at her.

“You do something to your hair?” He teased. Katie smiled, stepping back from his embrace while he looked the rest of the group over.

“Well. You guys really look like crap. Must’ve been a rough couple of years.”

Steve looked round, an amused smile on his face as he glanced at his wife then to the rest of the team.

“Yeah, well, the hotels weren’t exactly five star.” Sam quipped back cheekily, the banter flowing between them like no time at all had passed.

“Uh, I think you look great.”

Steve turned at the new voice to see Bruce inching his way into the room nervously wringing his hands together.

Steve and Katie remained silent, exchanging a glance. In the rush around and the fray of the fight, we’d forgotten to explain exactly who it was that called.

“Yeah. I’m back.”

Katie glanced over at Nat, she had her gaze fixed solely on the scientist as she spoke “Hi, Bruce.”

“Nat.” Bruce answered inclining his head towards her slightly as he fidgeted.

“This is awkward.” Sam piped up. Steve and Katie looked at one another, before they both smiled and looked back up at Sam.

“Any news on Tony?” Katie asked gently, interrupting the silence that had fallen.

“Not yet no.” Rhodey said. “FRIDAY lost him when he left the atmosphere. We got NASA running scans and we’re trying to track his trail but…” He shook his head.

“Typical Tony.” Katie rolled her eyes “Always has to go one bigger and one better doesn’t he?”

Her blasé tone wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Banner.” Steve said gently, looking across the room at the scientist. “Can you fill us in on what we’re up against here?”

“Yeah sure,” Bruce said nodding hesitantly.

Without so much as another word, the group all started to make their way out of the room. As Katie turned to follow Natasha, Steve’s hand gently fell on her shoulder. Without looking at him, she reached up and gently wrapped her fingers round his, giving them a squeeze before she left.

Steve took a deep breath as he glanced around the room once more, before he too followed on, that sick feeling in his gut was getting worse.

**** Chapter 36 Part 2

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fic #mcu fanfic #mcu #chris evans #chris evans characters

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jjba-hell · 4 years ago

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Fate and Fortune

So this was sitting in my WIP folder forever and I was bouncing between self-insert and OC but I figured it was just too specific for self-insert... ✌︎('ω')✌︎

Part 1 of (?) and tagging some moots- @risottoneroo (I know you’ve been going through it recently, I hope this upcoming series can help distract you just a little bit- I know your writing always helps pick me up) @giogio-gucci-gangstar @rat-makes-stuff and @uttertrash (sorry =w= I get nervous tagging any moots)

Setting for this one is pre-Stardust Crusaders and the best dscription for this timeline is MY CANON NOW. This is a very short entry piece of how Vera (my OC) first met Muhammed Abdul. As the story progresses I’ll give more explanation and context to my OC but for now, all ya gots ta know is that it starts off in Egypt.

Content warning is pretty mild- maybe some mysticism if you’re not comfortable with that but nothing beyond that. (Ya’ll know you just gotta et me know if I miss something)

Also- my interpretation of the tarot crads is about like 20% more accurate than Araki’s- meaning its probably not completly right but it makes a bit more sense than canon.

1.4 K words

Life as an expat in a foreign country wasn’t easy to begin with. Vera grew up a bit isolated from the real world, safely hidden behind the tall walls that held her with the other expat children from expat homes. That was, until she decided to go to a neaarby local market- in search of some cooler casual fabrics, an alternative to the continuously wrong winter fabrics the expat camp gave them for ventures outside of the walls of the camp- even though it was much too luxurious to be called a camp.

The decision to desert the safety o fthe camp had been made on a whim, without much warning to her parents, as casual as if she were heading toward the expat gym.

In hindsight, so much could have gone wrong for a 16-year old foreign girl but the threat of danger was never something she had felt too greatly. She had always felt safe- in a way. It had felt like there was always this...presence around her when she felt any unease. Dangerous or nerve racking situations unfolded themselves as life usually does, but things had a tendency to go her way, danger seeming to veer out of her path. She chcuckled at the thought- how cocky she used to be. Her first few trips unaccompanied had only cemented her idea that she was untouchable.

One faithful day- a few months after continous visits to the market- among the many stalls, stood a tall dark skinned Egyptian man- looming over the wares of a vendor whom Vera had made good acquaintances with. “Ah Muhammed. This is that teenager I was telling you about, the foreigner.”

“Hello Hassan.” She smiled- trying to hint at greeting her first.

She turned to the man beside her, almost two heads taller than herself. Two markings moved down his handsome face, a playful smile on his face- slightly marred by his eyes that seemed to hide an impossible sadness behind the warm brown. “You must be Vera. Pleasant to make your acquaintance. I’m Muhammed Abdul.” He gave a courteous nod, hands folding into his somewhat overlflowing robe sleeves.

Hassan leaned in to chip into the conversation before you could answer. “Vera is a foreigner, doesn’t divulge what her parents do but they’re the first in a long time to walk out the camp unaccompanied.”

“Now Hassan, I’m not one of your wares, no need to advertise me like that.” She smiled at the wares dealer with just a glimmer of warning in her eyes.

Muhammed chuckled. “More importantly why would you want to?” He asked with feign suspision.

Hassan looked shocked, dramatically holding his hand over his chest. “Muhammed, was it not you telling me just a few moments ago that you needed a new assistant for your shop.”

Hassan then rounded on Vera. “And didn’t you say you’d like a part-time job for some extra coin.”

Muhammed threw his head back and gave a hearty laugh straight out of his chest. “Hassan, if I didn’t know any better I’d swear this was an elaborate scheme to get Vera to buy more of your wares.”

Hassan showed his open palms up beside his head in a sign of surrender. “Caught red-handed. Easier to persuade her to buy something when her wallet is full. But why don’t you just believe that it’s a kind gesture?”

Muhammed turned towards you, that same warm smile on his face. “If you’re willing, Vera, we can discuss these things in my shop if you like.”

In the back of her mind she was a bit apprehensive, she’d been taught to keep her guard up when out alone. But then again, she had some mace on her persons, just in case of an emergency. And that presence looming over her shoulder seemed to make itself a bit more known, bringing a comforting warmth to her shoulders. So ,impulsively, she had agreed. “I’d love to see what you have to offer.”

Vera and Muhammed bid Hassan a temporary goodbye, Hassan assuring her that he’d skin Muhammed alive if he laid a finger her. Somehow the image of Hassan attempting to skin this monstrosity of a man walking ahead of her -almost gliding through the streets to his shop- a bit comical but at least she could appreciated the gesture. Ducking under a stone arch and then curling up some stone steps the two of them stopped in front of an old wooden door- looking as if it came straight from the 14th century.

Muhammed unlocked the heavy black iron lock and pushed the door open to reveal a ceiling of stars, dangling charms and sigils. “Would I be stereotyping you if I assumed you were a mystic of some sort?”

Muhammed gave a warm chuckle.“Indeed I am. I am what you’d consider a fortune teller, and Hassan heard assistant, when in actuality I was looking for an apprentice.”

“Would you say there’s a difference?” She had chcukled as she entered deeper into the shop.

Muhammed kept the door open, stepping through behind her as her eyes travelled through all the trinkets, stones, and more.

“Unfortunately there is. If I overstep a boundary, you are more than welcome to leave but...may I ask. Have you ever felt...guarded? Or watched? As if nothing could go wrong and if it did, it would turn out your favor.”

For a moment she couldn’t help but smile to herself. “Sounds like some crazy luck.”

Muhammed laughed again. She spun around on her heel and saw a deck of cards in his hands, tapping the edges on the red clothed table. “It’s actually a phenomenon I study. It’s considered mysticism but...if you really want this job, I’d suggest you at least have some inkling of what that feeling is.”

Abdul’s eyes flashed dark as his gaze moved from Vera to just beside her head. She frowned in confusion, looking over her shoulder to see nothing but before she could ask, Muhammed immediately looked her head-on with a calm yet stern expression. The focus in his eyes back.

“I’ll be honest with you, Mr Abdul. I do possess that feeling. Although it wavers from time to time- probably makes me a little cocky but I’ve never faced a problem that didn’t solve itself.”

Muhammed smiled, straightened a bit and then seamlessly slid into the chair at the table.

“A tarot reading? Before we discuss money then?”

She had laughed but slid into the chair in front of him and watched Abdul’s skilled fingers shuffle the deck and spread it out before her. “Pick three.”

One. Two. Three.

He slid them back together and arranged the three chosen cards a specific way.

“The past. Judgement, reversed.”

“Care to explain?” Her gaze locked with his for a moment.

“Your past is a source of turmoil to you- a never ending fountain of self-doubt and self-flagellation.”

Vera shrugged, not reacting much to this. She wasn’t about to explain her whole life to him any time soon.

“The present. Death, upright. Big change is coming very soon. Be weary of the storm that lies before you.”

You nodded, a slow fear creeping up your spine. Even Abdul seemed to swallow a bit harder at the prospect, as if avoiding her gaze.

“And future. Wheel of fortune, upright. You are the guardian of your own fate- even through the ever-changing storm of fates.”

She nodded, feeling more at ease with the last prediction. “Is it normal to feel such a variety of emotions after a read?”

Muhammed only smiled as he folded his arms before him. “It is. However no one likes pulling the death card. But that beside the point. How does 300 a week sound to you?”

“Generous.”

“Oh it‘ll only seem that way at the start. Later you’ll cuss me out for paying you so little. For now, I think it best I show you the ropes first.”

There a was a beat of silence, before Muhammed gracefully brought his hand out to shake. “Do we have a deal?”

Vera hesitated a moment before trusting in her own character judgement and shaking his hand to seal the deal. Abdul’s warmth as well as what she had seen from his character thusfar had her feeling as though she could trust him. But she’d be lying if that was the only reason- that unshakable good luck she’d been carrying on her shoulders her whole life seemed to assure her that if a problem ever did arise- she’d still be in control of her own fate.

It was, however, not Abdul whomst she had to worry about...

For not a month into her apprenticeship- Death has already sunken its claws into her life, and a violent change would alter the course of her life forever.

#jojo kimyou na bouken #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo part 3 #muhammed abdul #oc content #my writing #stardust crusaders #Fate and Fortune

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vanne-whump · 4 years ago

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CUJO. Part Two : Pressure.

BTHB: Forcibly Stripped. @badthingshappenbingo

Tags: @no-whump-on-main

OCs: Cujo Kansas, Vincent Carnegie

Content: Forced to strip (nonsexual), inferences of stalking, whipping, captivity, past conditioning, scars, dehumanising language, blood.

A decade of punishment adorned Cujo’s skin. Scar tissue upon scar tissue as he learned. Brutal beatings endured — when he thought back now, all he saw was that stupid teenager. All bark and no bite. Deliberately acting out, regardless of consequences.

If he died now, it would be with dignity.

And it wouldn’t be his own stupid fault. Not now.

“Take off your shirt,” Master spoke through his thinly veiled impatience.

Cujo obeyed, pulling off the shirt and letting it fall into the trodden mud in front of him. He shivered as the morning air hit him, staying silent as goosebumps began to rise on his skin. Jaw tight and arms crossed as he watched Master’s feet for movement. None came.

“And your pants. I don’t have all day, mutt.”

The unprovoked aggression put Cujo on edge as he fumbled to obey. If his passivity wasn’t enough now — he wasn’t sure how much more he could give. He unzipped his fly, kicking the pants away to also lie in the mud. Another shiver jolted down his back but Cujo had no fight left to complain. Not now.

In the next moment, water hissed through the garden hose. Cujo glanced upwards, having only short notice to prepare himself. He stumbled one — two — steps backwards as the cold drenched him.

But it took the dried — cracked — blood from his skin. Running it into the mud beneath his feet. Out of sight, out of mind. He used one hand to protect his face from the stream, but Master paid no mind to that.

“Turn around.”

Cujo did. He turned his back on Master, taking the opportunity to scrub the blood away from under his nails. Under the pressure of the water, he could feel throbbing in his shoulder. He hadn’t dared look yet. But he hadn’t bled out.

That meant he’d been hurt worse many times before now. The only way Cujo could describe that feeling was one of sick relief.

“You’re done. Catch,” Master snapped, before turning off the hose and throwing a dish towel at Cujo. For a split-second, Cujo was painfully alert, spinning around and catching the towel. “Dry yourself off. Wait in the utility room while I get you some more suitable clothes.”

“Yes, sir,” Cujo said, voice strung together by only several threads as he turned to follow Master into the house.

He wiped his feet with the towel before entering the house, taking the first left into the small utility room. A washer, dryer and chipped paint mapped out the room. Disused, it seemed.

Slowly, the shivering and goosebumps subsided, freeing some space for Cujo to think. Not that it had any benefit for him. He brought the towel down roughly on his skin, only letting it fall to the floor when it was truly useless. Soaked with water, mud and splatters of diluted blood.

Right on cue, Master appeared in the doorway with a neatly folded pile of clothes. After a cursory glance at Cujo, Master handed the clothes across.

“Get dressed. We need to talk about your performance last night.”

“Yes, sir,” Cujo said again, taking the clothes from Master.

Clothes in hand, Cujo turned around — away from Master one more time as he finished stripping off. He redressed as quickly as he could. Underwear, socks, navy blue suit trousers and a white button up. His hands shook as he buttoned the shirt, before turning to face Master one more time.

He wanted to talk about Cujo’s performance last night. Performance. Is that how he viewed it? Last night — it was nothing short of murder.

Up until now, that was something Cujo had never done.

“Come through to the living room. Sit on the couch and don’t you dare move.”

Cujo gave no verbal response this time, doing as he was told and sitting down on the edge of the couch. Somehow, doing that felt like a more severe criminal act than anything that had happened last night.

Master reappeared soon after with a folder, slightly dog-eared, but clearly of some importance to him. He seated himself beside Cujo, leaning into the back of the couch as he flicked to the appropriate page.

“I thought this might help put things in perspective for you. Take a look for me,” he handed the file across to Cujo who took it hesitantly. “Let me know when you’re done.”

Cujo nodded. He recognised the first page, tattered as it was, from years ago. His signature scrolled on page after page of waivers and consent forms. Contracts spanning the last nine years. The signature on the most recent form wasn’t even his.

Those contracts were something he had no interest in reading, so he looked ahead. Cujo could feel Master’s gaze on him as he finally saw pages that were new to him. Everything about him. An entire profile on him.

“Keep going, I need you to see why you’re here.”

One more turn of the page revealed photos. Dating back... Cujo didn’t know how long. A catalogue of every scar etched into his skin. Every single injury needing hospital treatment. Photographs of the horizontal whip bites down his back. The dodgy tattoo he’d gotten in a friend’s garage at sixteen. All of it — detailed much more carefully than he ever would have expected a group of thugs of having the ability to.

“What’s this supposed to show me? I already know I’m your property,” Cujo spoke in a strained tone. “I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t buy you for your intelligence, and clearly that’s a good thing,” Master started. “Your fight records. Seventeen-hundred wins. It’s a good record.”

“So? Lots of guys had good records...”

“But not many of those caught my interest like you did. You don’t mind breaking rules, do you?”

“I — what do you want me to admit here?”

“Your fights. Your win to lose ratio shoots up the moment rules are taken from the table. I like that.”

“Just luck,” Cujo mumbled, but he knew as well as Master seemed to. It was no coincidence. Even now, denying his brutal streak was the only approach that made sense.

“Luck or not, the way you handled yourself last night was appalling,” Master took the file back from Cujo and closed it. “It was messy, unprofessional and you... I will not tolerate you falling apart like that on the job again. Do you understand that? In your own time, absolutely, but not while you’re working.”

“Yes sir, it — it’s not going to happen again.”

“Good. We need to go over some terms, what I expect from you,” Cujo nodded. “Your job is to act as a bodyguard and everything else that entails. Your main job will be to escort myself, or anyone else I assign you, to public events. Parties, fundraisers, you get the picture there. Sometimes, you will need to deal with threats. Chase up payments. Think of it as being my personal bounty hunter.”

“Killing people who don’t give you what you want...” Cujo trailed off.

“It’s a crude description, but yes,” Master agreed. “We can put last night behind us but you will do better next time.”

The entire situation was a stilted exchange, but the agreement sounded reasonable to Cujo. Second chances for him had been few and far between up until now — he would take any advantage he could.

“Now we’re clear, are you in agreement to the work?”

“Yes, sir,” the nervous edge to Cujo’s voice was poorly concealed.

“You’re a fast learner, aren’t you Cujo? You will catch on in no time at all,” Master smiled as he stood. “Take a couple of hours. Get your head around it. I’ll see you at lunchtime.”

Cujo couldn’t help his stare as Master stood up. He heard something about him going to his office to work, but Cujo was far too taken aback to truly process any of what was said before he left the room.

Take a couple of hours? What was that even supposed to mean? Was he supposed to follow Master? No — no, if that was the case, he would have come back by now. So Master didn’t want to be disturbed. Cujo could do that — not disturb him.

He moved off of the couch and tried once more to process this. Sitting on the floor felt more natural. Safer. Cujo had never been hit solely for sitting on the floor. Then again, he had never killed anyone either.

Despite knowing that he should keep his guard up, the exhaustion was becoming too much. And sitting on the carpet — plush and expensive — was dizzying. Just one more huge change he was facing today. After listening for any sign of Master returning, Cujo could no longer help himself.

He slowly lay down, stretching out on the carpet as he closed his eyes. When, even after minutes, no sounds came, he drifted into a much needed but uneasy sleep.

—

When he eventually became aware of his surroundings once more, he could hear some movements from the next floor up. Cujo didn’t dare to listen, but he was sure there was a phone conversation going on that he was just out of earshot of.

Footsteps on the stairs jerked him awake. He bolted upwards to sit up straight to at least appear as though he were paying attention.

Master entered the living room as the footsteps on the stairs waned. He leant in the doorway, dressed formally in a suit and tie. Freshly laundered by the looks of it. Not that it was of any relevance to Cujo.

“Did you sleep well? We have a last minute engagement. Tonight. It should be enjoyable,” he explained, absently fixing his shirt collar. “You’ll have to attend. We’re leaving in about an hour, is there anything that you need first?”

“An hour?” Cujo asked, pulling a hand through his still damp hair. “What time is it?”

“Three. You slept through lunch. Did you want something?”

“You didn’t wake me up...”

“I’m not your personal alarm, Cujo.”

“No — no — I — I meant that you — I just mean that you let me sleep,” Cujo backtracked his answer. “Thank you.”

“Do you want something to eat before we leave?” Master ignored Cujo’s words of thanks. “Kitchen is through there,” he made a quick gesture.

It only confused Cujo more. He would never dream of taking something to eat. It just — something like that wasn’t allowed. Ever. But Master seemed serious in the offer.

“Sir, can I just ask...?”

“Spit it out.”

“Am I allowed to take food if I’m hungry?”

“What a stupid question!” Master scoffed. “I did not sign up to babysit. You will do anything required without disturbing me. Eating, sleeping, entertaining yourself. Anywhere you are not permitted to go is locked. Knock yourself out. I’ll find you when you’re needed.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Cujo fumbled at the confirmation.

Cujo remained where he was for several moments as he processed the information. It was just a new rule he’d have to learn — every new placement had them. Though, they weren’t always so alien.

“I’m not hungry, sir,” he eventually said. Master paid no attention to that — Cujo should have known he wouldn’t care.

The entire situation was so... disconnected from everything Cujo had become accustomed to. The illusions of freedom were no longer merely illusions. In itself, that was unsettling.

Growing pains. That’s all this was. Cujo only had to muddle through the next few days as the ground settled. He would learn his place. Learn what was expected of him on a daily basis.

“Get dressed, then. You can wear that, and there’s a closet upstairs with your work attire. Third door on the left.”

Cujo nodded once, before getting to his feet and heading towards the stairs. He avoided looking around, going straight to the third door on the left.

Inside, the room was sparsely furnished — a closet along one wall, a broken mirror covering one of the sliding doors. Opposite was a set of drawers, padlocks securing each of them.

Anything Cujo wasn’t to open was locked.

He’d been instructed to get dressed. A benign order with so much potential to backfire.

Cujo didn’t rummage any deeper in the closet than he was forced to. A selection of formal jackets were hanging inside. Cujo took one — navy blue. The same shade as the trousers he had been given this morning. He also took a pair of shoes, pulling them on and glancing at himself in the broken mirror while he closed the closet door.

It was mundane in the best way. For as long as Cujo could remember, his entire life had been mapped out for him. And, maybe, this was no better. Maybe he was trading in something much worse to receive autonomy like this. Maybe he had already traded it in.

He buttoned the jacket, pulling it to a better fit. Cujo ignored the way the fabric was sticking to the wound on his arm. Right now, a graze didn’t warrant his attention.

What did earn his attention was the sour taste of luxury he felt as he looked at himself in the mirror again. For the first time since Kansas, it seemed like this might be a luxury that he could keep.

And by the sounds of it, his life would begin to comprise of hundreds of those luxuries very soon.

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missblissy · 5 years ago

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Hey! I’m loving your Alastor imagines & I want to request one. Can you write something where the reader is an angel from heaven & sneaks down to hell to visit Alastor (boyfriend) every day. The reader puts on a disguise to not get caught. So one day reader decides to show off her wings to him in private & he’s smitten with how gorgeous they are since he’s never seen anything like it & asks to touch them which makes reader blush/giggle causing Alastor to sneeze. Just fluff & kisses. Thanks!

((@U@ I am swept away by this ask Is this based off an OC?? Cause if so??? Please tell me about them??? If not??? THANK YOU FOR SUPPLYING THE BEST ASK OF THE DAY!!!!!!! I kind of turned this into a song fic?? Im sorry if you aren’t into those, I was just listening to this song over and over again while writing this fic and??? I just??? Love it?? Anyways QuQ Sorry if you don’t like song fics, but!! ENJOY!!!!!!!!))

You risked your life every day you ascended down with to meet with a man who you could never spend your afterlife with. Falling with Morning Star, Venus, traveling the path of Lucifer, you’d hide among the clouds as you waited for the perfect time to fall without anyone noticing. Every morning you’d make this journey.

Many people thought you were a shooting star crashing into the earth and you could hear their prayers and wishes while falling towards earth. There were many portals to Hell, but you took the one in Italy and fell through the crusts of the planet.

With your white wings tucked in, you landed in The Forests of Limbo. Many souls were doomed to walk among it’s swampy land, lost in the fog forever while they search for heaven’s golden gates. Of in the distance and close to the Second Circle of Lust, you could see several castles bloom above the treetops. You looked around to make sure you were alone. Quickly, you replaced your halo for horns. Your wings faded and blended into your back, tucked and hidden away so no one could see them. You took on a demonic form with a slithering imp tail and teeth the size of knives. You sucked in a deep breath and started heading for the center of the Hell and into Pentagram City.

You had fallen in love with a man who was the complete opposite of you. He was cunning, evil, tricky, mischievous and twisted. Alastor was a demon unlike any other. And still, you loved him and every evil little thing about him. Lately, he’s been staying in a hotel and not his home. You were kind of happy that he was. There was a point there when he went weeks without leaving his home. Now he had so many friends and people to surround himself with. It made your naturally worrying heart ease a little.

He was staying on the top floor, thank god you had wings. Expect this time when you stretched them out, the pure white feathers were gone and replaced with slick black skin as it stretched out like a bat’s wing. Standing at the base of the hotel while the morning light crawled into the sky, you gave one quick swoop of your wings and launched into the sky. Seconds later you were tapping on Alastor’s window only to come face to face with the Radio Demon himself.

With a never-ending smile, he pushed open his window, “Good morning, my dear,” He held his hand out for you. As he helped you through the window he grabbed ahold of your waist and gently placed you on solid grown. Alastor didn’t waste a second at stealing a kiss from your lips.

You giggled softly, trying to hide your blush, “Hello,” Your voice was small and your heart was racing. Of course, Alastor knew you were an angel from above, but no one else did. It was a forbidden love that made your blood rush with excitement.

Alastor brushed his nose against you. You loved his little Eskimo kisses more than the real ones, “You look like you’ve been through Hell and back,” He joked softly, his long claws still wrapped around your waist and holding you in place. You giggled, loving his jokes and poor taste in humor.

“Only so I can be with you, my love,” You lifted your hand and Alastor instinctively pressed his cheek into your palm. He rubbed his cheek against your fingers while a shallow smile adorned his face.

He started to hum and followed suit. You already ready knew the tune as Alastor whisked you around his hotel room. The two of you waltz in circles. Your eyes locked with his dark ones, he hummed with a fizzle and a pop in his static voice, then as if by magic a soft song escaped his form. He was his own damn radio, music twirled from him and soon he was singing as the two of you dance, “Ultimately I don’t understand a thing, I try to do the best I can, I know you try to do the same. We’re just so bound to make mistakes,” His voice came in and out of frequence, mingling with the soft music, “You could call it a disposition. I apologize for all your tears, I wish I could be different. But I’m still growing up… Into the one you can call your love,” He took his hand and creased your cheek, still singing along as your heart called to his siren song, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be enough, I’m throwing in my chips, I guess I tend to push my luck,” He stared down at you with a softer gaze and a sweet smile.

Your eyes lit up, knowing every word by heart, a large smile flutter to your lips, “And ultimately, I believe we’ll be okay! It’s so cliché to say these things, but repetition is a key!” Alastor’s silent heart twitched alive and caused little static waves of electricity to pulse from his form. The music played on as you reached on your toes and touched your nose to his, “I think I’m better when I’m with you. But I worry when you’re gone. I think I need to learn to love myself, I must learn to be strong,” Alastor slowed your waltz and eventually halted. You were close enough that you could kiss him, but you sang on with your lips barely brushing his shallow smile, “So, for now we’ll say goodbye. Although it pains me in my heart, your words, they come to me in memories. They sing to me like songs, it won’t be long until I’m here!” You pressed a kick kiss onto his lips, he didn’t even jump. He instead leaned down and followed you for another kiss but you sang on before he could do so, “Soon I’ll make my arrival. Under shady trees, a quiet street. The roads that I have traveled,”

The two of you hummed in harmony for a second, then together you sang, “Ultimately it's a beautiful thing, like flowers blooming in a lonely field. The petals drift through crossing winds, they find their way to river streams that scent the water beautifully, it takes me back to you~ It takes me back to you~”

The music played on as the two of you slow danced there in that spot for a minute or so. Eventually, the tune quietly faded away until the room was silent again. It was always your favorite thing you did with him. Singing was so important to both of you and you were so happy you could share that love with him.

Alastor creased your cheek with his hand while pressing a kiss onto your forehead, “You’d look better without those silly demon parts,” He quietly suggested in a low whisper-like voice.

He kept purring in your ear like a cat. He was always trying to get you to drop your disguise. You didn’t look much different from your natural form. You just had a halo and wings and some different color schemes. You gave a little shake of your head, “What if someone sees me?”

Alastor just gave a little chuckle with a tiny smile, “Only I will see, my dear, I promise,” He snapped his fingers and all the curtains closed by themselves and you heard the lock to his door click and shut.

“Fine,” You huffed with a little grin, not really upset by it, “But close your eyes first- And sit! On the bed!” Alastor followed your orders and perched himself on the edge of his bed. He closed his eyes and you waited a few seconds to make sure he wouldn’t peak.

You had never shown him your true form. So you were a little nervous. What if he didn’t like the way you looked? You shook away your fears and waved your hand slowly over your chest. A warm and heavenly glow flustered and flashed from your heart before become so bright that it encased your entire body.

Only seconds passed and suddenly you were adorned in a thin white dress, a tiny little halo above your head, and wings untucked and folded behind you back, “Okay,” You quietly said, “You can look.”

As you stood there with your arms crossed over your chest, a flustered blush on your face, you watch Alastor open his eyes and his smile slowly fall from his face. No! He didn’t like it! You’d never seen him without a smile!

He got up very quickly and possessively grabbed you with his hands and yanked you towards him. You were chest to chest when Alastor grabbed your chin with his fingers and forcefully stole as many kisses as he wanted. You were confused but you enjoyed this new version of Alastor that you’d never met before.

“Absolutely, entirely and completely perfect and beautiful in every way,” Alastor’s voice was strong and confidante, his smirk was back as he watched you grow red, “I’ve never seen a creature as lovely and heavenly as you.”

He really never had. Alastor had never seen any angel ever. They didn’t tend to come down to Hell that often. He couldn’t take his eyes off your. Your skin was perfect, smooth, and hade the faintest glow to it. The way your hair was so fluffy and soft, it was so tempting not to run his fingers through it. But he was the most hypnotized by your wings. They were huge and finally understood why you kept them tucked away all the time.

Alastor released you from his grip and quickly walked behind you. He almost laid a finger on your wings but stopped inches before making contact. Silly him, he almost forgot to ask, “May I?”

You blinked a couple of times, not sure if you were comfortable with this or not. But you finally nodded your head and gave in to his pleading gaze. The second his fingers came in contact with your feathers, you felt a wild chill run down your back. It was a strange tickle that resided in your belly and caused your cheeks to flare up into a rosy red color. Alastor couldn’t help himself, he plucked a large white feather from your wings which caused you to jump and nearly knock him over.

“Sorry!” He smiled, “I just had to have one!” His tone was so light and bubbly, you could even be mad at him. Alastor then dipped his nose into your feathers and took in a deep breath. You smelled like peaches and sunshine.. He loved it. He took in another sigh but this time the feathers tickled his nose and causing him to sneeze.

His face twisted up and then he let out a loud “Achoo!” Oh god, it was so cute. He even seemed a little dazed by the force of the sneeze and he sniffled up whatever was trying to escape his nose. You spun around -almost knocking over a lamp in the process- then clasped your hands on either side of Alastor’s face.

You smiled big and gave him a quick kiss, “You’re so adorable,” You told him, “I’m glad you like me this way. I wasn’t sure if you would...”

“How could I not?!” He started to snake his hands around your torso, resting them at the curves of your waist, “You’re simply perfect, my love.” He knew exactly what to say to make you blush and try and hide it with a giggle. The two of you kept standing there. Giving Eskimo kisses and real ones, getting intoxicated on each other’s love and drowning in affection. Nothing could have been more romantic or perfect than this.

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angelliev · 4 years ago

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Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part Nine - Pogue Style

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: Aria has the time of her life with JJ and the Pogues.

Warnings: Making out, explosions, implied smut, cursing, and the Pogues doing crazy shit I guess

A/N: I had a blast writing this one. I just love the Pogues and their chaotic energy. Sorry for not posting for a few days. I’m taking my time writing these parts and I’m still trying to figure out where I want this to go. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy! (Not my GIF. Credits to the owner. I don't own the show or any of the characters.)

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

I’m starting to believe that the past is actually coming back to bite me in the ass. It has been a couple of months of Jennifer being gone. She still calls me occasionally to see how I’m doing along with the family and everyone else. Lately, my parents from my understanding are giving her space. However, they’ve been arguing a lot lately, and when they’re not, they are avoiding each other. I couldn’t help but notice that my dad hasn’t been around the house lately, not that I’m complaining, but it has been making me suspicious. He’s been acting a bit weird lately. He works on the mainland, so normally he’s only here on the weekends, but now here’s rarely ever here.

Today was just another normal day around the house. I’m currently doing homework at the kitchen island, while mom is cooking dinner and talking to Damian. Everything was going just great until the front door slammed shut. All three of us look up in confusion. In charges a very angry Claude. None of got the chance to ask what was wrong before he plucked my phone from my hands and threw it across the room. The sound of a shattered screen could be heard throughout the house.

“What the fuck?!” I yell, which surprises me. Normally I don’t have the guts to yell at my dad. “You lying little bitch!” He shouts. “Claude! What is wrong with you?!” My mom yells. “She has been lying to all of us this whole time!” He shouts. “What the hell are you talking about?” Asked Damian. “I just got off the phone with the private investigator. He knows you dropped Jennifer off at the ferry. He’s seen the text messages between you guys.” His words make me freeze. Everyone’s eyes were on me.

“Are you kidding me? You hired a private investigator to find her? When are you going to take the hint that she doesn’t want to see you?” I spit. “I don’t care what she wants! And I don’t appreciate you going behind my back and helping Jennifer run away.” His eyes filled with rage. “For god’s sake dad, she’s a grown woman! She’s not obligated to live here! She’s finally happy! Just leave her alone!” I quickly gather my things. “You’re not going anywhere. You tell me where she is!” He follows after me. I sprint to my car and lock the doors. I jump high when his body slams against the vehicle.

“This isn’t over! Get out the fucking car right now!” I speed away leaving my dad yelling to the top of his lungs. That man needs some serious help. I pick up the cracked phone. My screen is completely shattered and the phone itself is barely working, much to my dismay. I wanted to call JJ, but that idea was thrown out the window, like my phone, so I just continued to drive towards the chateau hoping that JJ was there.

I pull up to see that the van wasn’t anywhere near the fish shack, but I was more than delighted to see JJ’s bike parked. I check his room, having no luck, so I go outside and follow the sound of music. I find him resting in the hammock, vape in hand, and blanket covering his body from the brisk air. “Hey babe.” I greet him, making his head snap towards me. “Hey, babygirl. Wasn’t expecting to see you. C’mere.” He made room for me and lifted the blanket. “You’re like the best boyfriend ever. You know that?” I snuggle into his warmth. He just smirks. “I know. You moaning my name already says enough.” I lightly smack his chest, before taking a hit from his vape.

“We should runaway together.” I suggest. This catches his attention. “Where did you have in mind beautiful?” I take a couple seconds to think. “Somewhere tropical. Like Spain, Italy, Greece or Monaco. I’ve always wanted to see Europe. We can have a little house on the beach. We can get that dog you’ve always wanted. Fix up that Chevy Camaro. Think about it baby. Wake up to have morning sex, then shower sex, make breakfast, surf all day, have beach sex, drive for a little while, have dinner, then end the night with even more sex.” I ramble on. This makes him laugh. “Someone’s horny. But that does sound nice.”

“Of course, it does. I came up with it.” I let the weed relax my body, enjoying the high. “What brought this on anyways?” He asked curious. “Oh, the usual. My dad being an asshole. Fucking threw my phone across the room.” “What crawled up his ass?” “He found out I helped Jennifer runaway.” I sigh. “How?” “He apparently hired a private investigator, fucking psycho. He’s such a control freak. She’s in her early twenties, if she wants to live in Boston, who cares? Hell, I just turned eighteen and he thinks he has complete control over me still.” I huff.

“I know the feeling babe. Trust me, once we finish school, we’ll be out of here before you know it. We can fuck each other all day with no cock blocking.” The two of us laugh. We let the time pass as we vape and kiss. The kissing soon escalated into a full blown make out session. His tongues slips into my mouth while his hands find my ass making me giggle. I let my hands venture under his shirt, feeling his nicely toned body. “Jesus shit your hands are freezing.” He shivers. “I can think of a few ways to keep each other warm.” I say suggestively, before connecting our lips again. He rolls on top of me, trapping me under him. He attacks my neck with kisses.

“Cool off you two!” A voice interrupts our session, along with a water gun, hitting JJ’s back. The two of us looks up to see the whole group of pogues along with Sarah. “When the hell did this happen?” John B asked, water gun still in his hands. “Oh, you mean the make out session? A few minutes ago.” JJ attempts to dodge the question. “Not that dipshit. You guys dating. How long has that been going on?” JJ’s face scrunched trying to remember. “Like since that get together at Charis’s.” Both Pope and John B’s eyes nearly popped out.

“About time you two came out.” Said Kie. The two clueless boys whip their heads towards her. “You knew?” They asked astonished. “Yeah, so did Sarah and Charis.” “So much for no secrets among pogues.” Muttered Pope. “Sorry to interrupt your guys’ dumbassery, but can I help you? We were kind of in the middle of something.” JJ interrupts. “As a matter of fact, yes. We were planning on doing some stupid shit. You two in? Or are you guys just going to sit here and bump uglies all day?” John B aimed the water gun at us. “Okay! We’ll join you guys! Just put the damn thing down.” We got up from the hammock. “That’s the spirit. Now, get it in the van children.” He smiles. “Spoken like a true pedophile.” Says Pope.

I think it’s fair to say that I was not expecting the day to go like this, but it’s better than going home. “So, what are we doing?” I asked still unclear what the guys were planning. “Well, for starters we’re hitting up the store, Kie and Sarah were nice enough to offer to buy food and drinks, and then the rest is a surprise.” Explains John B. “This should be interesting.” Says JJ. The six of us jump out of the van and stroll our way into the store, ready to terrorize the isles and poor shoppers.

We grab a shopping cart. Sarah jumps into it after calling dibs, earning a glare from the store clerk. We head straight to the candy isle, burying Sarah in M&Ms, Watermelon Sour Patch Kids, Kit Kats, Jolly Ranchers, Skittles, Pop Rocks, Twizzlers, Hubba Bubba and Snickers. “We’re overdosing tonight guys.” Smiles Sarah. We then grab a bunch of chips. Our next stop was the snack isle. John B grabs a shitload of Cheez Its, while Pope grabs fruit snacks. At one point, I had Kie on my shoulders as she attempted to grab a box of Gushers sitting at the top shelf.

“Welp, I think that’s everything guys.” Says Kie, motioning to Sarah, here head the only body part that’s visible due to being buried by all the junk food. “I can’t move guys.” She laughs. As we make our way towards the checkout, we spot Rafe, Kelce and Topper along with more friends talking. JJ gets this brilliant idea to grab the store speaker phone and disguises his voice before announcing, “Paging Topper Thornton. I repeat Topper Thornton. We have your order of extra small condoms ready at the front desk. Thank you.” We all rush to the check-out to pay for our things giggling, before Topper and his friends come to beat our asses. Once we reach the parking lot, we all burst out laughing.

“Did you guys see his face?” JJ asked wheezing as we loaded the groceries into the vehicle. “Maybank! I’m gonna kill you!” We look over to see Rafe, Kelce, Topper and the rest of the crew charging towards us. We all quickly gather into the van, barely escaping from the Kook death squad. “Yo, John B! Slow down a little!” JJ commands before grabbing a snickers and a condom out of his wallet, before opening the side door, to see Topper on our tails.

“Here man have a snickers! Oh, and here’s a much larger condom for you man! Don’t worry you’ll grow into it eventually!” He laughs chucking them at the poor kook. “Screw you dirty pogues!” He yells as we drive off laughing. This is way better than sitting at home. Together we laugh, sang and ate as John B drove us to the surprise location. After a while, we all grew impatient, wondering where the hell he’s taking us, as we look out to see we’re practically out in the middle of nowhere on the island. We finally reach a location, of what looks like an abandoned amusement park.

“Where the hell are we?” Asked JJ, who’s head sat in my lap. “Exactly what it looks like. The OBX Fair Grounds. It’s been abandoned for like over a decade now. It’s the perfect place to do a bunch of stupid shit.” John B smiled feeling accomplished. I must say it was definitely fun to have the whole park to ourselves and boy did we have some fun. Such as, climbing roller coasters that were definitely not stable, venturing into creepy mirror mazes, and drinking on the carousel, while playing a good game of Cards Against Humanity.

As of now, me and the girls are playing another round when the boys came back rolling a bunch of bumper cars. That’s when John B and JJ begin setting them at the top of this small hill. “What the hell are you guys doing?!” I asked bewildered. “We’re gonna race these bad boys down the hill. Winner gets a twenty!” Shouts John B. “I’ll squirt you guys on the way down!” Pope yells holding up the water gun. “I highly recommend you don’t do that!” Yells Sarah. “Don’t worry! Those bushes over there should stop the cars.” Says JJ. It’s at times like this where I wonder how I ended up dating a literal five-year-old. “That doesn’t sound right babe!” I yell. Kie just scoffs. “JJ! I think what your girlfriend is trying to say is that you guys are a bunch of fucking morons!” She yells.

“Fuck off!” Yells JJ, earning an eye roll for Kie. “It’s a miracle that men aren’t extinct, due to the stupid shit they do.” Says Kie, which Sarah and I nod our heads to as we watch the two boys situate their selves in the number carts. “On your mark. Get set…go!” The boys push their cars, speeding down the hill screaming. John B’s car begins to drift. “You’re gonna crash!” Sarah yells to her boyfriend. “No, I’m not!” Not even 3 seconds later, he crashes into a gate, earning a cackle from JJ. “Suck on that loser, better get that twenty-“ JJ doesn’t get to finish his sentence when his car crashes through what looks like a closed off booth. “Dumbass.” Mutters Kie.

“You guys okay?” I asked. The two just got up and whooped. “Let’s do that again!” Shouts John B. “Holy shit! Guys I just found a bunch of fireworks.” JJ grabs one and points at the booth. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s light these bad boys up!” JB yells as all the boys run back up to us. “Yes, John B. Let’s let everyone know that we’re setting off fireworks in the abandoned amusement park that we’re currently trespassing.” Kie said in a sarcastic tone.

“How about this, we’ll just set off one, and take the rest of them back home?” Pope suggests. “Those things are like a decade old. Do they even work?” I asked. JJ just smirks. “Only one way to find out.” He says and proceeds to light the rocket. We all stand back as the spark is close to reaching its end, only for the rocket to fall over, aiming for the whole firework shack. “Oh shit!” “Fuck!” “Run!” All of us curse and begin to run the other way. The rocket shoots into the direction of the shack, before exploding. It then sets off a chain reaction, making all the fireworks go off at the same time, exploding the whole firework tent.

The sound of the all the fireworks going off at once and the explosion makes me cover my ears as we all continue to run and scream, attempting to make distance between us and the explosion. It felt like a long time before the sound of exploding fireworks came to a halt. We decide to look back, only to find that the tent had caught on fire, along with some more standing by it. The black smoke begins to cloud the sky. All of us stand there in pure shock.

“What the hell did you do JJ?” Screamed Kie. “That wasn’t my fault! It malfunctioned!” He defended himself. “Guys, not the best time to argue! We need to get the hell out of here! The cops and fire department have probably already been notified of the explosion and fire going on right now! And we’re a ways away from where we parked.” Pope distinguished the conversation. “Let’s haul ass people!” JB shouts and no one hesitates to resume to running.

All of our lungs began to burn, sweat was beading down our bodies, and our legs were close to giving out as we ran across half of the damn park, before reaching the van. That’s when we hear the nearby sirens. “Everyone in?” JB and Sarah look back to make sure no one was left behind. “GO, GO, GO!” We all scream, the van’s tires make a screeching noise and all of us are thrown back as we speed away from the scene. All of us sit back as we try to catch our breath, adrenaline pumping through our veins. JB decides to take a different route, hoping to avoid the authorities.

“Holy shit. Did that seriously just happen?” I asked still in shock, I must be fucking dreaming. This is not how I thought my day would be turning out. “Hell yeah! Pogue style baby! That’s what I’m taking about!” JJ smiles and puts his arm around me. We all began to laugh at how crazy and ridiculous the whole situation was. Our moment is cut off by Sarah’s phone ringing. “Who’s that?” Asked JB. “It’s Charis. Hello?” Sarah puts her on speaker.

“What the fuck did you pyromaniacs do?” Charis’s voice could be heard throughout the van, making all of us giggle. “What are you talking about?” Sarah plays dumb. “I’m talking about that big ass explosion and smoke in the sky that everyone can see!” She shouts. “Oh that? That wasn’t us.” Sarah played it off all nonchalant. “Bullshit.” “Oh, c’mon Charis. Why would we be start going around blowing up shit?” Asked John B. “Why wouldn’t you guys start going around blowing up shit?! And why wasn’t I invited?!” We all started laughing at Charis. “Uh oh, I’m losing signal. I’ll call you back later. Love you. Bye!” Sarah hangs up the phone.

“Is this a normal day for you guys?” I asked. “Pretty much.” Everyone says at the same time. Damn, I should’ve started hanging out with these guys a long time ago. I have never had this much fun in my whole life. The whole way home we all screamed and sang along to our favorite songs, until we pulled up to the chateau. We all exit the vehicle, still pumped up, so we decided to start a bonfire. Despite the fact that we already started one.

We all sat around the fire roasting some hot dogs and marshmallows. I was snuggled into JJ’s lap, blanket wrapped around the two of us. He takes his roasted marshmallow, before smearing some on my cheek. I look up at him before smearing some of mine on his nose. He leans down and crashes his lips against mine in a sweet kiss. “Get a room you two!” JB throws a marshmallow at the two of us. JJ just gives him the finger. He hugs me tighter nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. “I don’t want you to go home.” He whispers placing a kiss on my neck. “I’m not going back home. At least not tonight. I don’t feel like dealing with my dad and his bullshit.” I yawn before taking a sip of my beer.

“You tired?” He asked. “Nah, the night is still young.” I yawn once more, making him chuckle. “C’mon, let’s go to bed.” He pulls me off the ground, wrapping his arm around me, my arm hooks around his waist. The pogues begin to make moaning noises. “Mm, JJ fuck me.” “Fuck! Right there baby.” “Harder JJ!” “Give me that Big J!” They all teased, earning another finger from JJ. “Night you horny shits.” He waves them off. “Night!” They all say.

The two of us, make our way to his room knocking into stuff, a little drunk. The two of us giggle as he picks me up and kicks the door shut before throwing me onto the bed. We throw our clothes off across the room. “I’m still kinda feeling the adrenaline rush.” He confesses as he litters my breasts with kisses. “Then let’s put that energy to good use.” I suggest, before biting my lip trying to contain my moan when he finds my sweet spot. “Let them hear babygirl. Let the whole world hear. I need to make sure they all know you’re mine.” He kisses my lips. “I’m forever yours.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #obx netflix #jj x oc

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vintageneptune92 · 5 years ago

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Heart Of The Matter

Heart of the Matter- Bucky Barnes x Reader

Requested by @darkness-in-bright with prompts:

46. “Are you decent?” “Not morally, but I am wearing pants, if that’s what you’re asking.

126. I really want to talk to you. And not through the door.

138. “You don’t get to say anything to me!”

So for the purposes of this story- Tony didn't die, Steve isn't an old man. End Game had a happier ending. Reader is Tony’s daughter...because we all know my sheer OBSESSION with Stark readers and OCs. She was about 15 at the time of the first Avengers movie so if I did my math right...With the End Game time jump she should be 27ish. If I’m wrong...pretend I’m not. This is like 7K words and I’m not even sorry. 😂

As always likes, comments and reblogs are SO APPRECIATED. Requests are open (Avengers, Supernatural, TVD/The Originals. I do dabble in some Green Arrow and The Flash (DC TV Only please). Prompt list can be found here.

Please let me know if you would like to be added to this tag list or one of my others.

Avengers Tag List: @shreddedparchment @fanfictionjunkie1112@this-is-mycrisis

Avengers Masterlist

As Tony Stark’s daughter, people treated you differently your whole life. You were always catered to, and you kind of hated it. It took you a long time to come to terms with the fact that you would never have a normal life. When you were 12, Tony was kidnapped. The video of him that the kidnappers sent still plagued your dreams to this day. When you finally got him back and he came out as Iron Man, that had made you give up your dream of having any normality; You were happy to let it go, you couldn’t have been more proud of your father.

Tony had always been in your life. At first it was minimal because your mother used you as a bargaining chip for money. Your mother had been a girl he met out and had a fling with. By the time you were 3, you were with him full time. When Tony had found out your mother was abusing prescription meds, he cleaned his life up and fought for you. He still had his fun, but taking care of you came first. Eventually she vanished from your life after a handful of supervised visits.

While Tony was busy saving the world, you were working on your studies. You attended a private a school to help keep you out of the lime light. You remembered hearing about Captain America from Agent Coulson and were excited to meet him when you found out he came out of the ice. You didn’t know your grandparents. He knew your grandfather. You wanted to learn about a different side of him. Phil had promised to arrange it, but then Loki and the Chitauri came for New York. You had been only 15 at the time. By some stroke of luck you had gone unharmed. You had been through a lot in your young life already, and watching Tony disappear through that hole in the sky had shaken you to your core. You had been in the tower and had run outside crying. Steve Rogers had caught you in his arms and held you tight while you broke down. He didn’t let you go until Tony opened his eyes. That day forged a bond with you and Steve. He became the big brother you had always needed.

Once things had settled down, you closed yourself off from everyone, including your father. Tony had to hire a tutor for you to continue your school work because you wouldn’t leave the tower. Tony has been distraught when he couldn’t reach you. It had been Steve that had broken through your walls after he moved in to The Avengers tower. He had let you guide him through all of the pop culture he didn’t understand and he earned your trust by treating you like you were his equal, not a kid. He didn’t try to get you to talk like Tony and Pepper did. He didn’t treat you like glass the way Happy and Rhodey did. He would tell you stories about when he was a kid and how he was trying to adjust after being gone for so long. Eventually, you slowly started opening up. You told him how you were certain that being Iron Man would take your father from you too soon but that he had to do it. The world needed heroes like him and Steve. You confessed your fears of being ill prepared for what was coming in the world. You couldn’t protect yourself, and the idea that you would be a distraction from other people being saved ate at you. Steve taught you how to defend yourself, you trained with him. Tony had been grateful that Steve had helped you and brought his brilliant and loving daughter back to life. Like Tony, you graduated high school far too early. At 16, went to Columbia University to get your degree in computer science and engineering, you also minored in Business. At age 20 you had a masters degree and you were helping Pepper with Stark Industries. Eventually it would be yours to take over. You also worked behind the scenes for The Avengers. Tony had been insistent that you never went into the field, but he didn't mind you working at the tower with Maria Hill.

The time of the Accords had been one of the worst times in your life. Watching Steve and Tony fracture down the middle. You saw both sides and cried when you told Steve you had to stand with your father. No matter what, you would never turn your back on Tony. The two of you were a team. Steve understood that more than you knew at the time. You had been shattered when you found out about Bucky being the one that murdered your grandparents and the fact that Steve had covered it up. Steve had told you so many stories about Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Your brain couldn’t reconcile the fun loving man and the Soldier that gave your grandparents such a violent end. Steve’s lie had hurt more than anything, yet part of you understood. You knew what Bucky meant to him. Bucky was his family and he would do anything to protect him. After all...there wasn't a thing in the world you wouldn't do to protect your father.

It had been you that convinced Tony that it wasn’t Bucky’s fault. You were a woman obsessed after Steve went on the run. You needed to understand. You had done extensive research into Hydra after everything that had happened. You needed to be able to separate The Winter Soldier from Bucky Barnes. You believed that Steve knew James Barnes best. He was rarely wrong. When you delved into the research into how they had programmed him, you felt instant regret for the rift between you and Steve. You begged Tony to find a way to forgive and move on. You had reached out to Steve a few times and met once. Steve had been hesitant, not because he didn’t trust you, but because he was afraid you would get hurt. You had to forgive him and in person and so he agreed. You spent two days with him and Sam in South America. It had been hard to leave them knowing you didn’t know if and when you would see them again. Tony knew you had seen Steve and made amends, he just wasn’t ready yet. Tony wanted to find your level of empathy, he just needed to work at it. Then Thanos happened and your world shattered again.

your father disappeared onto that space ship. Bruce has called Steve, Nat, Sam and Wanda for help. You had been a wreck when they walked back into the compound. Steve wanted you to stay behind but there was no way you were staying. At the very least you could help Shuri get the Infinity Stone from Vision. You ended up on the battlefield and watched everyone around you crumble into nothing. You were inconsolable until Carol Danvers rescued your father. When all seemed lost, you helped your father heal and settle down into a quiet life. He married Pepper and you finally had a sister.

After 5 years of despair, it was time to fight again. And while you got the world back. While the loss of Nat was nearly suffocating, you couldn't be more proud of her and her sacrifice. You had almost lost Tony when he snapped Thanos out of existence. He was never quite the same physically, but he happily accepted it to live in peace with his family knowing he had stopped the Mad Titan. It was his “one last mission” and he was lucky he made it back home.

You found anything but peace. You needed to do more than sitting behind a desk. After meeting Carol Danvers you realized that another Thanos could come your way and even if one didn’t, the world was in disarray again since the population had been restored. So, you joined the newly formed SHIELD. It was during this time you had gotten to know James Buchanan Barnes and he turned your world upside down. You found yourself getting lost in the blue of his eyes on more than one occasion. Goosebumps covered your skin any time his hands were on you during training. You had started looking forward to missions with just the two of you and then you started to realize he was like Steve. Steve Rogers acting as a over protective big brother was bad enough, you didn’t need his side kick jumping in on the mix. You thought that with all of the training you had done and how you continually proved yourself would be enough, clearly you were wrong. Bucky did whatever he could to block you out, keep you in the jet or back at the compound. You had finally had enough.

“No! You don't get to say anything to me right now." You were raging. Bucky had just gotten back from the mission that you were supposed to go on with him. He had again convinced Steve that he didn't need you. He botched the mission and almost got himself killed. He was trying to talk his way out of it and you didn’t want to hear it.

"Y/N, calm down." Bucky immediately regretted it. He saw the rage burn behind your eyes. Sam had his arms crossed in front of him, leaning against the counter of the common area kitchen enjoying the show. Bucky should have known better, you had quite the temper.

“Calm down?! God I am so sick of this! It’s because Tony is my father, isn’t it? It’s such bullshit! You needed me on that mission. I could have gotten in and out quickly and gotten all of the information off of their drives and you could have watched my back while I did it. Instead, YOU made a big "Winter Solider" splash, dropped way more bodies than necessary and didn't even get all of the information I need! These are huge drug smugglers and now they know we're after them. So now who's going to have to be smarter, work harder and get the info we need from behind the scenes? ME! NOT YOU." You took a deep breath and tried to reign in your temper. You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I don't need you to protect me. I'm not some helpless damsel. If I wasn't good enough to be in the field...Fury NEVER would have me given me the okay and Rhodey sure as hell would have put a stop to it if I wasn’t prepared. I get you're trying to gain points with my Father...because I know he doesn't want me here. But this time, your need to get on his good side fucked up this whole operation!" Naturally Steve walked in during the middle of your tirade wide eyed.

"I don't know if that language is necessary." Sam let out a low whistle, certain that your head was going to pop off your shoulders. He watched as you turned slowly and narrowed your eyes at Steve.

“Actually, Captain Rogers" the tone in your voice oozed sarcasm, "it's perfectly necessary. And you are JUST has bad as he is" you pointed over at Bucky. "You find any excuse to pull me off of missions and keep me in this tower like I'm frickin Rapunzel or something." You pushed past the two of them and stalked down the hall, slamming your door. The three men stood there quietly.

"Soooo...that went well." Sam finally quipped. Buck and Steve both glared at him. "Don't glare at me, she's not wrong. I love going on missions with her. She's smart and fast. She calculates every risk and doesn’t do anything unless absolutely necessary. She doesn't need you to protect her. I mean I get why you want to." He directed the last part of his comment to Bucky.

“What the hell does that mean pigeon." Bucky shot Sam another glare causing Steve to groan. He wasn’t in the mood for their bickering.

"Look...do I think you want to win bonus points with Papa Stark...sure. But not for the reason she thinks. You have feelings for her. You don't know exactly how to tell her or how to deal with it so you try to be her protector. She doesn’t need another man in her life trying to bubble wrap her. Tony and Rhodey have that covered. She wants to be your equal. She’s more than proven herself. And I’m not insulting you, it’s just an observation. We've been working together long enough for me to know you. I know your tells. I also see how you look at her when you think no one else is looking. Try talking to her...outside of missions. Maybe ask her out. Use some of that charm you have that Steve told us about." Sam shrugged and walked away.

Bucky swallowed uncomfortably as Steve turned his gaze towards him. Bucky wasn't sure how he would react and of course Sam had said something in front of him. Sam was right, he did have a thing for you. How could he not? You were so many things; funny, smart, empathetic, which he knew better than anyone. You were beautiful and had a smile that could light up the darkest of places. He even loved your temper. You had a passion and fire inside of you, God help anyone that got in your way.

“Look Steve, you know how amazing she is, how could I not want to be with her? She’s incredible. But I also know nothing can ever happen. I mean the age difference alone. I know how much she means to you. I’d never cross that line.” Steve smiled.

“I don’t think that we can really consider an age difference here when you, like me, spent so much time under ice. And then the fact that you were gone for 5 years. It’s not a normal situation. And yes, she does mean a lot to me. I’ve known her since she was a kid. I watched her grow up. But she isn’t a kid anymore. She’s a grown woman. It’s not up to me who she spends her time with. If I had to pick, you’d be at the top of the list. Buck- you’re not the man Hydra made you into anymore. You healed that part of yourself in Wakanda. You are a good man.”

“Tony won’t approve.” Steve smiled for a moment.

“You really think that would stop her?” Bucky laughed at that comment. But he absolutely thought Tony’s disapproval would put an end to anything he could have with you. “Tony forgave you. It took time but he moved past that. And if you end up being what makes her happy, he wouldn’t stand in the way of that. And she and Sam are right, she doesn’t need us to protect her. I’m equally guilty in trying to keep her out of the line of fire.” Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder as he pondered what Steve and Sam has said and headed to talk to you.

***

You were pacing in your room trying to work out your anger when there was a knock at the door. You rolled your eyes. You knew who it was without any verification.

“Leave me alone Steve.” You heard him chuckle. He wouldn’t let anger stay between the two of you. You had made an agreement a long time ago to always work out your differences.

“C’mon Y/N- I really want to talk to you. And not through the door.“ You groaned and headed over to your door and yanked it open. Steve had his arms crossed and he was leaning against the doorway.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.” He sighed. “You’re right. I need to stop putting my personal feelings for you in front of the job we have to do. I think after everything that we’ve seen and been through I just want to know you’re always safe. Your father made it clear I was responsible for you. But it’s not fair to you.”

“Thanks Steve. I’m just so sick of being treated like I’m made of glass. I can handle myself. I know the risks.”

“I know. Your more than qualified to be in the field and I trust you more than about anyone. I promise to do better. And Bucky isn’t trying to earn points with Tony. I think he just thinks that the Stark family has been through enough. You’re the one that made it possible for him to be apart of this family. Your forgiveness and understanding led to Tony’s. Being here has allowed him to get back to the person he used to be. “

“Yeah well thanks to him I have a ton of work to do.” You felt your anger deflate like a balloon. “I better get to it.” You nodded over to your desk where two huge flat screen monitors sat.

“Alright, let me know if you need anything.” You nodded and watched him retreat down the hall before you shut your door.

Bucky Barnes was under your skin. He had been since the day you met him in Wakanda. You expected this hardened soldier but found a man with an easy smile and kind eyes. Whatever monster that had lived within him had been snuffed out. It had started when you’d notice that his gaze would linger on you just a little longer than necessary. Your heart would pound anytime he was in close proximity and you were certain he had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. But it would never progress past a few longing looks and mild flirting. Bucky Barnes was determined to stay on Tony Starks good side, certainly any sort of relationship with his daughter would be frowned upon. You sighed and sat down.

“Friday- run through the files Sergeant Barnes obtained. We then need to get into their servers and find out when the next deal is going to happen so we can stop them.”

“Right away Miss Stark.” It was going to be a very long night.

***

It had been a few days and you finally got a lead to where the drug ring might be next. You were running down to the gym where you knew Bucky was. You stopped when you saw it empty and stepped towards the locker room with trepidation.

“Barnes! “Are you decent?” You yelled into the doorway. You heard him laugh.

“Not morally, but I am wearing pants, if that’s what you’re asking.” you rolled your eyes and strolled in, your heels clacking on the floor. He had been more flirty than normal the past few days. It was knocking you off your guard. He shot you a grin when he saw you. True to his word, he was wearing pants and nothing else. His prosthetic arm was on the bench, and his impressive form was still damp from the shower. You didn’t realize you were staring until he cleared his throat. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks and you stepped forward looking at the still angry scars on shoulder where his arm used to be attached. He would normally be self conscious with someone staring at him the way you were, but he saw interest, not pity. He sucked his breath in when you ran your fingers over the scar. You quickly realized what you were doing and jumped back.

“Sorry - I, uh, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that.” You had a sheepish look on your face. “Just...does that bother you?” Your head was tilted to the side.

“Not since Wakanda. Shuri fixed me up. Now it doesn’t hurt to wear the arm.” You looked up at him.

“You sure? I used the 3D printer to print skin grafts for another agent”

“Of course you did.” You narrowed your eyes at him and pursed your lips. “It’s more cosmetic now, no physical pain. So unless you think I need plastic surgery.”

“Shut up. That’s not what I meant. I’ve just never seen you without your prosthetic. Scars make a person more interesting. I have plenty of my own.” He watched you shudder. He remembered the deep cuts to your back during the battle with Thanos. You had been running to protect Peter and one of Thanos’ soldiers had slashed your back a few times. He remembered your screams from being cleaned and stitched up vividly.

“So...do you need something or just here to ogle me?” He wiggled his eyesbrows at you and winked when he saw your face go red again.”

“You’re obnoxious.” He was enjoying your fluster. “You need to get your shit. You, Steve and Sam are headed to Chicago to try and bust the drug ring. I finally found a lead.”

“You’re not coming?” He was certain after the last time that it would be a cold day in hell before you missed this.

“Well unfortunately I still have my Stark Industries responsibilities. And in two days we have a fundraiser. Please let me remind you that you three are on the guest list and help the elite open their big fat checkbooks. Don’t get killed and make sure Sam doesn’t mess up his pretty face.”

“Of course Doll.” He watched your eyes narrow again. You gave him a quick second look before you strutted out of the locker room completely flustered again. His skin still almost tingled where you had touched him.

***

You looked around the ball room at the richest of the rich. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, but you felt a cloud over you. Steve and company were successful in stopping the shipment and a few of the ring members, but the leader had eluded them again. They were capitalizing on people’s pain and desperation. It hadn’t been any easy transition back for many who were snapped away. They often turned to substances to drown their sorrows. Maybe it was because you had found out your mother had recently overdosed. You took it personally. You didn’t know the woman, she was a stranger, but she was still your mother.

“Well look at you.” You turned to see a beaming Tony with Pepper holding onto his good arm. The arm that had been touched by the infinity stones was covered by a black brace.

“Hi Daddy.” You smiled and hugged him.

“Hi darling. Morgan misses you. She insists you come visit next weekend.”

“I know. I’m a terrible sister, I’ve just been distracted.”

“You’ve been working too hard.”

“Gee, I wonder where she gets it from?” Pepper quipped and you let out a genuine laugh.

“Well you are your father’s daughter. I couldn’t be more proud.” Tony kissed your cheek. “We’re going to make some rounds. I’ll see you later.” You nodded. You were by yourself again for a few moments and then saw Steve’s smiling face approaching you.

“Hey kid.”

“Steven.” You smiled at him.

“Ready?” You nodded and he led you up to the podium. Steve greeted the crowd and then introduced you. No matter how many crowds you spoke in front of, you always got nervous. As you approached the podium you looked out to the crowd and caught Bucky’s eye. He gave a reassuring smile that took your breath away. At some point between his mission and now he had gotten his long hair cut into a style similar to what it was before the war. He looked stunning in his tux. You cleared your throat and adverted your eyes away from the Sergeant’s.

“Thank you all so much for coming. It’s a happy occasion that brings us all here tonight as we celebrate the one year anniversary that so many of you were returned to us. I would be remised if I didn’t acknowledge the struggle that so many across not only our nation, but the world, have experienced as they’ve tried to adjust back to normal life. With that in mind, and the reason why we invited you here tonight is to announce a new program through Stark Industries that will aim to help those in need get to normalcy. The Romanova Foundation is named for Natasha Romanoff. You had to pause as your voice cracked on Natasha’s name. ”If it weren’t for Natasha’s bravery and sacrifice, many of us would not be standing here tonight. So I ask you to open your hearts and your wallets to help those of us in need as Natasha would have. Thank you.” You stepped away from the podium quickly as the crowd roared with applause. Steve tried to grab your arm but you shrunk away and shook your head. You bit back tears as you rushed towards a door towards a private balcony, grabbing a bottle of champagne on your way.

***

Bucky watched as you made a quick exit. He was going to follow you when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was surprised to see a smiling Tony.

“Sergeant. I was informed you had a semi successful mission yesterday, glad the three of you stopped that shipment. I also heard you got your ass ripped by my daughter last week for bumping her off a mission and then you made a huge mess of it.” Bucky swallowed hard. Tony must have read his anxiety and held his hands up. “No judgment here. I made plenty of messes myself. And I don’t envy anyone that catches her temper. It burns a little. She gets it from my side.” Tony shrugged. “You know she talks about you a lot.” Tony fired off his comments quickly.

“She does?”

“Yeah...I don’t think she realizes how much she does. She has Morgan conflicted between who her favorite Super Soldier is. You or Cap. Naturally her favorite Avenger is me. I gather you and my daughter work together a lot.”

“We do. Steve or I are usually with her.”

“To protect her?”

“Yes. She’s not a super soldier, though she thinks she is.” Tony snickered. “She’s not enhanced like Wanda. But she’s a huge asset. I don’t know what we would do without her. But some of these people we’re up against are enhanced, So Steve and I, we stick close to Y/N.”

“How close is close Barnes?” Bucky paled as Tony stared him down. After a moment he laughed and clapped Bucky on his shoulder.

“I’m messing with you. Rogers and I had a conversation. While he’s not usually the type to butt in, I think he’s trying to cut through the red tape. Look, the past is the past. After everything that happened, I don’t live there anymore. The only thing I care about is that my daughter is safe and happy. I’ve been assured that the man that they made you is gone for good. And that is good enough for me. I don’t know if you know this, but my daughter and Natasha got very close in the 5 years between Thanos annihilating half the planet and when we got everyone back. She and Nat worked tirelessly with Carol and company to watch the universe. Nat’s death was hard on all of us, but especially my daughter. Today is a hard day for her. If I know her as well as I think I do, she’s hiding outside on the far left balcony. Probably with a bottle of booze drowning her sorrows. Do me a favor...go and check on our girl.” It took Bucky a moment to react but he nodded his head and started walking towards the other side of the room before Tony yelled his name and he turned. Tony approached him again. “I may be out of commission, but just remember that I still have a suit and if you hurt my daughter there’s no serum in the world that can protect you.” With that, Tony turned on his heel and walked away.

***

You tried to hold back your tears. You knew today was going to be hard. You didn’t realize how hard until you started talking about Natasha. You took a long drink out of your bottle and looked out over the lights of the nearby city. You heard the door open behind you and exhaled.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” When you heard the door shut you thought you had been left alone but then you felt the cool metal of Bucky’s hand in your shoulder.

“You don’t have to talk. I just don’t want you to be alone feeling like this.” You nodded but didn’t turn, you couldn’t face him. So instead he stood behind you, his arms on each side of yours protectively caging you in. “Is it okay if I talk?” You nodded.

“You know what I remembered first when we came back? Your face. For me, you represented redemption, forgiveness and all of the things I didn’t think I deserved. When Steve told me that you two had worked things out, that you understood, it was a huge relief. I knew how important you were to him. Tony too. I felt like I robbed him of the family he found after the ice.” He was leaning down so he could speak quietly in your ear. “Then he told me that you wanted to meet me. God, I was terrified. All I could remember was Tony when he saw that video. I couldn’t imagine seeing the monster I had been reflected in anyone else’s eyes. Saying you forgive someone is one thing, truly being able to mean it was another. But then when you all came to try and stop Thanos the first time you waltzed off that jet and gave me the biggest smile and then you hugged me instead of shaking my hand. You took my breath away. And it was so strange to come back and then realize that 5 years had gone by. For me, it was like we just picked the fight up where we left off. It wasn’t until after that I saw you were different. You were harder. More determined to keep fighting. More determined to be a pain in my ass and walk into the line of fire when all I wanted to do was make sure you were okay. Not because of Tony. But because you were the first person other than Steve to really make me feel like I was worth all of this, that I was with saving. The idea that you were going to be out there and possibly getting hurt I had to prevent that at all costs. I just wanted you protected and behind your computer at home. That wasn’t fair and I’m sorry for doing that to you. You’re strong and capable. Getting to know you over this past year, even if you were pissed off at me for most of it, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I’m sorry that you had to lose Natasha for me to get my life back. I didn’t get to spend a lot of time with Nat- but she was an incredible person. I would give my life up in a second to bring her back.” You spun around so you could face him. Even in sky high heels he was looking down at you.

“Don’t say that! Please don’t ever say that.” He studied your tear filled eyes with a kind smile. He slowly put both hands on your cheeks and swiped the unshed tears from your eyes. “As much as it hurts, Natasha had to make that sacrifice to find peace. And loosing you would be just as hard.” His blue eyes sparkled down at you and you felt a swoop in your stomach. He stroked your cheek with his non-metal hand before he dropped them to his side. He watched you take a deep breath and visibly relax.

“I haven’t talked about Natasha much. It just makes me so sad that she’s not here with us today. That she’s not here celebrating our victory. I think not talking about her has made it harder to heal.”

“Any time you want to talk, I’m here to listen.”

“And I will. But not now. This is supposed to be a party.” You smiled up at him, he was impossibly close.

“Well the 3/4 of that champagne bottle you drank will make this a real party for you in a few minutes when it hits you. You tipped your head back and laughed. “There it is.” He said it in a whisper. You have him a questioning look. “My favorite laugh.” He was making you blush again. This must have been what he was like before the war and it definitely wasn’t in your imagination. The flirting from the past few days was actually flirting. You weren’t sure what made him decide to be so obvious about it, but you didn’t care. “If no one else has told you, you look incredible tonight.” You were clad in a black strapless sweetheart neckline dress with a sequined bodice and jewel embellishments down the tulle skirt.

“You clean up pretty nicely yourself. I like the hair cut by the way.”

“It was time to get rid of the last thing that reminded me of The Winter Soldier...well other than the scary arm.”

“The arm isn’t scary.”

“No? Some of the looks I get say otherwise.”

“No. The metal arm is actually pretty sexy.” You didn’t even think before you said it. He had a smirk plastered to his face and this time you made yourself blush.

“You think I’m sexy?”

“I said the arm was sexy.” He stepped closer so you were leaning against the high railing again, his arms on either side of you caging you in again. You felt the tip of his nose run across your shoulder and up your neck as he whispered in your ear.

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” The two of you had been dancing around each other for the last year, neither brave enough to make the next move. “If it wasn’t obvious by now, I have feelings for you. Big ones. The only question is, do you feel the same?”

“Do you really have to ask? Of course I do.” You felt his lips press against your shoulder and then your neck and it was like someone sucked the air out of you. He placed his hand in the side of your face and looked into your eyes for a moment and then put you out of your misery by pressing his lips to yours. It was like the missing piece had finally been put in its place. As you gripped his shoulders to deepen the kiss you heard someone clear their throat.

“Gross. Get a room.” Sam’s teasing voice rang out through the air. Bucky groaned and dropped his head as you peered around him to look at Sam. “Listen, this is your party Stark, you better get in there before someone else comes out here looking for you. Last thing we need is a reporter snapping a picture of this and ruining everyone’s breakfast tomorrow.”

“Yeah yeah we’re coming.” Bucky’s voice was laced with irritation. When Sam had retreated back inside you cupped both sides of Bucky’s face and pressed your lips to his again.

“Come dance with me. I’ve heard you’ve got some moves.”

“They May be outdated sweetheart.” You grabbed the bottle of champagne and downed the rest of it and then took Bucky’s hand and pulled him towards the entrance.

***

“You okay? I mean you seem okay now, but I know you’re good at hiding it.” You were standing with Steve side by side at the bar. The bar that Nat would often mix drinks at during one of the many party’s your father would throw. Bucky had excused himself to go dig out more of Thor’s Asgardian liquor for him and Steve. You were pleasantly buzzed if not a little bit drunk. Your face hurt from laughing. You had spent the evening dancing with Bucky, Sam and Sam’s date. She worked for you at Stark Industries in research and development. You had introduced her and Sam a few months ago and they, as you knew they would hit it off. She was funny like Sam but tough enough to not take his shit. He needed someone to keep him in line.

“I really am Steve. I promise. It just hit me hard when I was standing up there. Bucky, he.-“ Steve grinned and cut you off.

“It’s about time. I’ve watched the two of you tip toe around liking each other since he joined us. There’s a reason you get so angry with him.” You gave him your infamous eye narrow and lip pursed expression. “Y/N- even your father knew. He encouraged Bucky to go to you.” Your eyes widened.

“He did?!” You knew Tony had let go of what happened but you never would have expected him to be okay with you having any sort of romantic relationship with James Buchanan Barnes...let alone encourage it.”

“He wants you to be happy. He’s happy. After everything that has happened he knows how important it is to say how you feel. He wants you to have what he has. He sees how Buck looks at you, how you look at him. How you talk about him. He’d never deny you that.” You looked over at your father and Pepper dancing and felt your heart swell for him. Your attention was drawn back when you heard Bucky set a glass down in front of Steve.

“God that smells like turpentine” you scrunched your nose in disgust.

“Well sweetheart not all of us can still be light weights.” Bucky grinned at you. Steve excused himself to head over to Sharon. You were happy that he seemed to find some happiness after everything. He had thought about going back and staying with Peggy. But creating a new timeline could have consequences. Plus the idea of leaving Bucky behind what inconceivable. You watched as Bucky downed his drink and shuddered a little bit. You both laughed and then he put his hand out as a slow song started playing over the crowd. You placed your hand in his and led him lead you to the dance floor. His one hand found the small of your back and pulled you flush against him while your other hand was still in his. You placed your free hand on the back of his neck, enjoying the feeling of his freshly buzzed hair. He kissed you lightly and you enjoyed being so close to him. If anyone would have told you this was how you would spend your night, you would have laughed at them.

“So my father gave you his blessing I hear?” Bucky let out a throaty laugh.

“And then threatened my life if I ever hurt you. He said he still has a suit.” You laughed and rolled your eyes.

“That sounds like my father. I’m glad he did. I’ve been hoping you’d make a move for a long time.”

“You could have made a move on me you know.”

“True- but you’re old. I didn’t want to offend your old fashioned ways.”

“You wound me.” You gave Bucky a grin.

“Speaking of old fashioned...your dance moves are pretty nice.”

“Oh yeah?” He flirted. Before you could respond, gun shots rang through the air and a group of men bounded in the room with semi-automatic weapons.”

“That’s the leader of the drug ring. Samuel O’Brien.” You were wide eyed and pulled away from Bucky. Samuel narrowed his eyes at you.

“So I assume it’s you and your friends that took want was mine. Now, I’ll take what is yours.” You watched as his eyes locked on your fathers. Before Bucky could stop you, you ran towards your father and pushed him out of the way as a bullet sank into your abdomen as the both of you crashed to the ground. Your ears were ringing and it seemed like everything was moving in slow motion.

“Dammit Y/N! You shouldn’t have done that!” Tony cried out as he pulled his jacket off to put pressure on the bullet. You couldn’t speak. You locked eyes with your father for a moment and then everything faded to black.

***

You felt pain, white hot searing pain. Your eye lids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds as you struggled to open them. As the white room came into focus you heard the steady beeping of a hospital monitor.

“Y/N?!” You slowly glanced to your right and saw the worried looks of your father and Steve Rogers. Your father had jumped up and was fussing over you and you groaned. “What? What is it? What hurts?”

“Everything.” You saw Steve reach over and click a button on your IV.

“Thank God you woke up.” Tony ran his hand over your head and kissed your forehead. You started to feel fuzzy again and felt yourself slowly slip from consciousness from the pain meds Steve had sent into your veins.

You didn’t know how long you had been out for as you slowly blinked your eyes open again. You felt the heat of someone’s arm next to yours. When you looked to the side there sat James Buchanan Barnes with his head resting on his arms. You picked your hand up and slowly ran your fingers through his hair. It took him a moment to wake up. He slowly picked his head up and gave you a sleep smile.

“Hey.” You whispered.

“Hey yourself.” He sat up and pulled his chair closer and took your hand. “Any pain.” You shook your head no. “Good, I mean they have you pretty drugged. Jesus you scared the shit out of me. I can’t believe you did that.”

“He’s my dad.” Was all you could say. “Did you get him?”

“Yes. We got every damn one of them.”

“How long?”

“You’ve been unconscious for almost two weeks. Most of it was medically induced. There was a lot of damage and internal bleeding. They tapered you’re meds down and it took two more days for you to wake up. We thought we were going to lose you. I thought I lost you and I just finally got you. Not that you belong to me.” Bucky sighed and stopped talking.

“You didn’t lose me. And if you’ll have me, I’d love to belong to you.” He pulled your hand to his mouth and kissed it.

“I love you Y/N...I think I have for a long time. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t pull through.” His voice caught with emotion.

“Hey- Bucky- I’m not going anywhere. I love you too.” He wiped a tear that slipped from your eye. He stood up and leaned over to place an gentle kiss on your lips. Your recovery would be tough, but you would get through it with Bucky by your side.

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