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#i need to go put myself in a headlock. maybe punch myself for a while. brb
fisheito · 21 days
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(Looking through my friend's seed collection for things i want to plant this year)
(Stops on a flower packet)
Oh... this one kinda reminds me of yakumo ☺️...
(Pause.)
I, someone who has never liked flowers, grimacing at myself: what the fuckkindabullshit
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midgardianweasley · 3 years
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Keep you safe
Keep you safe
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Avenger!reader
Summary: When the civil war breaks out among the team, what happens when you find yourself and your girlfriend on opposite sides of the fight?
Warnings: Extremely minor cursing, angst, injury, ends in fluff
Word Count: 1.8k words
Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist <3
Requests are open!
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“Vision, you can’t keep her prisoner here” I announced to what seemed like a brick wall. The S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting was only this morning and already it felt like the team was beginning to drift. Tony and Steve were fighting, not being able to agree on where they stand regarding the Sokovia Accords and whether we should sign our rights away. Wanda, not being a US citizen and having been a big part of the incident in Sokovia, has been put under Vision’s watch for protection. But from what i’ve seen, I think Wanda can protect herself just fine.
“It’s not imprisonment, Y/N, this is for her safety.”
“Safety? She’s fully capable of walking to the shops on her own.”
“I think some members of the team would disagree, Nata-”
“Don’t, Vision. Please.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead, the stress going straight to my temples upon remembering the events from this morning with my girlfriend.
Nat and I had just walked out of the meeting room, thoughts flooding both of our heads. We were exhausted, the emergency meeting not giving us enough time to wake up with a coffee before having to be fully functional. My head was resting on her shoulder, her head on top of mine as we stood in an abandoned corridor, revelling in the peace and quiet. It was a few minutes before one of us decided to speak up.
“You okay, голубка?” She whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head before returning to her previous position.
“Mhmm, I think so. My head is officially fried though and it’s not even 9am yet.”
“We’ll get some coffee in us soon.”
“I think we’ve earned it” I mumbled, earning a slight chuckle from the both of us, returning back to the silence for only a couple of minutes before a thought crossed my mind.
“I feel bad for Wanda. She must feel terrible.”
“I know. Hopefully this whole Accords business can be of help.”
“Well, that would be nice, but we’re obviously not signing that.” An airy laugh left my lips, amused at the idea of signing away any freedom we could have for ourselves. I felt Nat’s body go rigid beside me, suddenly feeling tense. I pulled away slightly and looked up to see a frown taking over her features.
“You’re not going to sign?” She spoke, suddenly sounding more awake, albeit still having a gentle tone, but I could feel the disbelief behind her words.
“I wasn’t planning on it, no. Are you?”
“I feel like it would be a good idea. Maybe we need a little more guidance to go about our missions.”
“This isn't guidance, Nat. This is essentially locking us away just without the bars.”
“It’s protection.”
“It’s losing our freedom!” I bluntly responded, almost shocked that we weren’t on the same page about this. We both stood across from each other now, arms crossed and staring into each other's eyes, all tiredness beforehand gone and replaced with fire.
“I need some air” She groaned, walking away towards the exit, signalling the end of that conversation.
“Nat-”
“I’ll see you at home, okay?” Not giving me a chance to respond, having walked out the door before I could utter a word. I guess coffee is the least of my problems now.
Lost in my daydream, I hadn’t even noticed that Clint had walked in and was currently fighting Vision. Wait, Clint?
“Clint? I thought you retired?”
“Ah nice to have you back.” He choked, currently caught in a headlock with Vision. I stood next to Wanda, the two of us sharing a look of confusion. “We need to go, Cap needs us.”
“You can’t overpower me, Clint.” Vision spoke, still holding his grip.
“I know i can’t, but she can”
I looked beside me once again and saw Wanda beginning to use her powers, and before I knew it, Vision had fallen to the ground..and further until we could no longer see him.
“We need to go” The archer rushed, taking Wanda by the hand and leading her outside. I was yet to be clued in on what exactly was going on, but I knew one thing, this couldn’t be good.
---
It was absolute chaos everywhere. Steve, much like Tony, had recruited a small team of his own, some familiar faces, some new, the ant guy was pretty cool. However, there hadn’t been much time to admire the different skill sets and powers that had been brought to the table before both sides had run towards each other. Especially considering seeing the recognisable assassin on the other side had brought on a wave of sickness, fighting her was the last thing I wanted to do.
While Bucky had taken to fighting who I assumed to be Blank Panther and Sam was in the air, I’d stuck to helping Steve, not wanting to get involved in the fight Clint was having with Natasha. This teenager had started shooting webs at Captain, and while I know he was on the opposite side, I had to admit, he was pretty good at fighting.
“He also said to go for your legs” He chuckled, again shooting webs at the supersoldier and holding him back from retrieving his shield.
“Hey Spidey” I called, gaining his attention.
“Hi”
“Might wanna drop the Captain, yeah?”
“I can’t. I gotta impress Mr Stark”
“Look, this isn’t your fight, you don’t know what’s going on” I tried to reason, falling onto deaf ears, or just stubborn, as he then shot his webs at me and tried to pull. His eyes shrunk in confusion as he couldn’t flip me, my power of immobility coming in handy.
“Why-” He groaned, still trying to flip me. I lifted my hands, grabbed the webs and flung him into one of the loading crates that were scattered around, my super strength making the impact a lot harsher, but not enough to cause major injury.
“Thanks Y/N” Steve spoke, a quick nod of approval was shared before I caught a glance of another fight going on. Wanda’s holding a crate, trying to take someone flying above it out, completely oblivious to Vision starting to come towards her. Looking down slightly, I saw who was directly underneath.
“Shit” I mumbled, running as fast as I could towards them, avoiding gunfire and punches along the way.
“Language!”
“Sorry! Jeez” I directed towards the man now running in a different direction.
Vision was much closer to them than I was, no matter how quickly my feet took me. It was no use trying to warn Wanda, I wouldn’t get there in time. I had to go with plan B.
“Nat! Move!”
She quickly turned and caught sight of me, giving me a confused glare that didn’t last long before I pushed her away from where she was standing, out of harm's way.
“What the hell Y/-” She hadn’t managed to finish her sentence before her eyes widened in horror at the large crate suddenly falling from Wanda’s hold and onto me. My arms lifted quickly to hold it, slightly wobbling due to not being in the centre of it.
“Is there anything behind me?”
“Wha-”
“Is there anything behind me?!” I spoke more urgently, not knowing how much longer I could hold it.
“No, no you’re clear.” Natasha responded, I thanked her silently with a nod.
‘Okay. you’ve got this. One. Two-’ I thought to myself.
With the remaining strength I could have gathered, I bent down slightly and pushed, sending the metal hurling upwards while I ran forward. Overestimating how high i’d thrown it, the bitter reality hit me, quite literally as it fell onto my leg, sending me face first towards the ground.
“Wanda!” Was all I could hear before I felt my head placed in someone’s lap and the world went black.
---
My head pounding like a hammer had been a lovely wake up call, followed by a throbbing pain in my leg which I'd looked down to see was lying along a row of pillows. My eyes darted around the room and I recognised the photo on the bedside table beside me. It was a photo of Natasha and I standing in the rain laughing at a joke we can’t remember anymore, but it must’ve been funny according to the huge smiles on our faces. The love in our eyes was enough to make galaxies jealous.
A knock on the door had interrupted my train of thought, opening before I had a chance to respond, Natasha walked in, a guilty look taking over her face.
“Hi”
“Hey. You okay?” I questioned, earning a smile and a scoff to come out of The Black Widow’s mouth.
“Am I okay? Really?”
“I-”
“You ask me if i’m okay when you’re lying there with a broken leg and just woken up from being knocked out, because you decided to throw yourself into danger.”
“You had a tonnes worth of metal about to fall on you. Forgive me if i didn’t want a squished girlfriend.” I defended myself, not entirely certain on how this is turning into being my fault.
“You could have died”
“But I didn’t”
“But you could’ve, Y/N!”
“Love-”
“I can’t lose you” Her voice broke. Only then had I managed to really take a look at her. Her eyes had clouded over, her hair was all over the place, her nose running slightly. A pang of guilt hit me, not knowing that my action had affected her so much.
“Can you come here? Please?” She hesitated, but soon made her way round to the other side of the bed and sat herself down, making herself comfortable in my arms that I held open for her, hands immediately going to run through her hair. Small sniffles could be heard in the otherwise silent room, each one having a kiss pressed against her head in response.
After a couple of minutes, the silence was broken again.
“I’m sorry, moya lyubov, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to keep you safe.”
She turned her head up slightly to look at me, a small smile playing on her lips
“I know. i just panicked. I want you to be safe too.”
“I’m okay. I’m here. I promise.” I kissed her head again. “How does a bath and a movie sound?” A small sigh left her lips at the suggestion.
“You’ll join?”
“I’ll join”
A small but passionate kiss was exchanged, followed by a few quick pecks before the redhead walked off towards our bathroom, the sound of running water filling the air not long after.
No matter the mission, the fight, the argument or the disagreements, we’ll always protect one another. We don’t need the Sokovia Accords for that.
taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives
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bakubub · 3 years
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Best friend rigs the Secret Santa for Bakugo and yourself to get one another...
A/N: Hullo everybody!! This is part 2 (find part one HERE) of this Pinterest Prompt and part 3 will (hopefully) be the final part. I honestly thought this would be a 800 word fic but now we're barreling towards almost 5k all together whoops lol-
Warnings: Just a few swears here and there, SFW, its literally all Bakusquad shenanigans.
Word count: abt 1.5k, ENJOY <3
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"Soooooo~ Who d'ya get for the cringle?" Kaminari asks, leaning back on his chair dangerously to look back at me, sitting on the desk behind him. I raise my eyebrows, since I can't just raise the one, and flick my pen expertly in my hand.
"Mr. Aizawa," I answered seriously. "I'm thinking of getting him another sleeping bag. The musty yellow one isn't really his colour."
Looking genuinely confused, Kaminari looks around to see if anyone else overheard our conversation.
I laugh at him, and kick his chair forward, causing him to shriek as he sits squarely on his butt. I look down to see a folded note on my desk, opening to read it as Mr Aizawa tells us to settle down;
Lover boy was TOTALLY just greasing off Kaminari for making you laugh. I think someone's still jealous from the whole sleeping incident...
Catching Mina's eye, I give her an I don't think so look, which she promptly rolls her eyes at. Its been a whole weekend since the 'sleeping incident', where I had woken up with Kaminari's arms wrapped around my waist and his head nestled on my stomach. Accidentally of course. We, along with Bakugo and Kirishima, had fallen asleep on the couch in the common room, talking late last Friday night.
It really wasn't a big deal... Kaminari apologised several times. I got over it, he got over it, and I don't see why Bakugo, whom Mina just loves to call 'lover boy', would even care.
Plus, I have bigger problems. Like what to get said lover boy for the Christmas Cringle we were supposed to be exchanging this Saturday. He's literally impossible to buy for. Well, I could always just buy him a new pair of shorts or something, but since I've had a crush on him since literally the first day of school, it needs to be perfect.
So far I've thought of a cookbook, an apron, a scarf since he's always wearing the brown one, or maybe even a matching beanie; then again his hair has such personality I don't even know if he CAN put a beanie over those suspiciously natural spikes...
"Hellooooo, come on, Aizawa dismissed us," Mina says, nudging my shoulder.
I snap out of my daze and gather my things, following out of the nearly empty classroom.
"Decided on what to get monsieur Hothead yet?" I sigh, already having predicted this question.
"Nope," I say, popping the p as we walk to the dorm rooms. "I'm thinking of maybe getting-"
"Hey girls, wanna meet at the common room at 6 for a rematch of UNO?" Kaminari asks, coming up from behind us and slinging an arm over my and Mina's shoulders like he always does.
"Yeah sure, we're down." Mina answers, pinching him in the side so he lets us out of his grasp. We duck away, laughing and continuing our banter, before I catch Bakugo's gaze.
"You coming too, Bakugo?" I ask, walking up next to him, ignoring my heart trying to escape its cage.
"Coming where?" He grumbles, still looking disgruntled and angry.
"We're playing UNO around 6 today in the common room. Come on, it'll be fun," I say, trying to persuade him into coming, since he never usually participates.
"HELL NO! I don't have time to waste, especially with you extras," He yells at me. I huff, rolling my eyes and continuing to ignore the feeling of my heart beating in my eyeballs, as I grumble, "you never do," and walk back next to Mina, who was now somehow in a water fight with Kirishima, Kaminari and Sero.
Overall certain that I didn't let my nerves peek through while talking to him, I don't register what's happening as Sero grabs Oijiro's water bottle out of his bag, unscrews the lid, then promptly dumps it over my head.
With Mina, Kirishima, Kaminari and even Bakugo gasping in the background, I wiped the water off my face, before realising my mascara had probably smudged all over my cheeks and glared at Sero, who was slowly backing away.
I practically growl before chasing him, blindly grabbing my own water bottle out of my bag and drenching him, messing up his styled hair which has him shrieking "sorry, I'm so sorry!" and has me cackling in sweet, sweet revenge.
---
"PLUS FOUR?! AGAIN KIRISHIMA! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Mina screeches as she pounds Kirishima's arm from next to him, who is laughing and judging from his reaction, barely feeling her punches. I know from experience, that Mina punches hard. He has to be really tough not to show an inkling of pain.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just really have to win this one!" He says, shooting a guilty smile Mina's way. Maybe he just doesn't feel pain in general...? I stare at him with suspicion as Mina huffs and she rolls her eyes at him, promptly dropping a four plus for the next person in our circle, who just happened to be me.
"Hey! Not cool, hypocrite." I mutter.
"I had to get my anger out somehow. I'm pretending you're Kirishima. Go on, pick up those cards, you slimy rat," Mina says smugly.
Giving her a confused look at her weird logic, I continued the game, Shoji and Hagakure also having joined in half way.
Just as I'm about to announce UNO, Bakugo stomps through the common room and sits right in between myself and Mina, crossing his legs on the floor and leaning back on his two hands.
"BAKUBRO! YOU CAME!" Kirishima yells excitedly, Kaminari and Sero also whooping and cheering.
"Yeah, yeah, shut up. I finished my work and came to see what you idiots were doing." He says, voice gruff but not screaming for once.
I raise my brows at him, and he scowls and looks the other way, not being able to face me after he so rudely rejected my invitation a few hours ago.
"Oh please, you just couldn't handle the FOMO." I say teasingly, smirking at him without fully turning my face so the others can hear.
Sero stifles a laugh and Kaminari looks confused before the dots connect and he also has his hand clamped around his mouth.
"She has a green 7," is all he says, a sadistic look of satisfaction overtaking his features. It takes a moment for all of us to realise what he just said.
Mina cackles as she changes the colour to red, effectively stopping me from winning the game.
Shooting him a dirty look, I lean over to grab another card, simultaneously elbowing him hard in the shin, which he doesn't even react to.
What is it with these guys and their weirdly high pain tolerance?
Ignoring him now, we continue the game, Kirishima practically slamming his last card on top of the deck. "I WON, I WON, man that was so MANLY," He celebrates as I see Mina rolling her eyes and silently fuming. I begin to shuffle and hand out the cards deliberately skipping Bakugo, which doesn't go unnoticed by him.
"Oi, where are my cards?" He asks, annoyance evident in his tone as Kirishima continues to gloat in the background about how manly his win was and Kaminari complaining about how he never "gets the good cards." When I don't respond, Bakugo steals my cards from in front of me, leaning forward to play with the others.
Snarling, I grab my cards out of his hand, causing him to snarl back, until we're fighting for the 7 cards.
"What are you guys doing, there's a whole ass deck here, you know," Sero says, eyebrows raised and nudging Kirishima.
"These. Ones. Are. MINE." I gasp out, my knee coming around to jab him in his side as his hand pushes me down from my sternum. Oxygen knocked out of my lungs, I gasped for air as I tried to hold the cards out of his reach, my hero training kicking in as I snake my other arm around the back of his neck to hold him in an upside down headlock. Trying to push his forehead onto the ground, I give the cards to Mina, who laughs and takes them, after taking a photo of us.
Having apparently heard the camera click, Bakugo (after struggling a great deal might I smugly add) gets out of my head lock and zones in on Mina. "Delete that photo, Racoon Eyes," He snarls.
"Not in a million years. Awww, look Bakugo are you blushing?" She says, pointing at her phone.
Eyes widening and red creeping up his neck, Bakugo snatches the phone out of her hand and deletes the photo, before getting up and leaving.
"C'mon Bakubro, she's just joking," Kirishima says, following him out.
"Yeah man, you didn't even play a game yet," Sero adds.
"I HAVE STUFF TO DO!" He screams, seemingly going back to his old self.
"Didn't you just say that you finished your homework?" Kaminari asks, furrowing his eyebrows.
"SHUT IT, CHARGEBOLT! I DON'T NEED TO EXPLAIN MYSELF TO YOU," he says a tad too harshly, turning slightly to glare at him with bulging eyeballs. Kaminari closes his mouth and shuffles his cards, trying not to set him off again.
"Bakugo-" I start, but when he doesn't turn, I find myself letting him leave.
Staring dejectedly at Mina, she gives me a giddy smile and grabs my phone, going onto her messages and smirking as she shows me the photo he just deleted.
"I sent it to you as soon as I took it. Thank me later," she says, winking, as she gets up to leave, dragging Sero and Kaminari with her.
I look down at the slightly blurry photo, seeing me handing Mina the UNO cards under Bakugo with a desperate expression. He has his hand pressed down on my sternum, straddling my waist and looking down at me, with an unmistakable smile gracing his features. Unless that's just a new way of scowling.
The phone dims and all of a sudden I'm confronted with my own expression on the darkened screen.
A lovesick fool.
That's all I can see.
A/N: Ngl pretty proud of that ending. JUst in case I'm not as slick as I think I am, she meant herself and Bakugo, hehe <3
Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3
Find part 3 HERE
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Lost and Found (Seventeen)
Get some tissues ready, folks. 
MASTERLIST HERE
**************
It had been three days. 
Three days of calling Tony and the phone going right to voicemail, three days of reconnecting with Stevie, three days of pre- war memories coming back sometimes in a trickle that made James smile, sometimes in a shock wave that sent the soldier to his knees with a migraine. 
Three days, and James’s head spun trying to keep it all together, trying to keep it all straight, trying to piece together all the parts of who he had been and who he was now and how it all reconciled with the nightmares and horror that came back full force without Tony by his side. 
Three days, and sometimes James wished he could lose track of time like he used to so each and every second wouldn’t be so crystal clear, so clarifying and so real.
Three days and sometimes it was already too much. 
Three days and sometimes the moments were so good they hurt.
“I still can’t believe it’s actually you.” Three days and seventy damn years and Steve was proving he hadn’t ever lost the habit of lurking in James’s door, hands in his pockets and eyes wide as he watched the brunette clean up in the bathroom. “Holy hell, Buck. I looked for you for so long. And you were just hanging out with Howard’s kid? Three days ago Tony Stark walked into my apartment with a picture of you and just like that, here you are. I can’t believe it.” 
“Can’t believe it either, Stevie.” James rinsed the shaving cream off his face and smoothed his right hand over the trimmed-but-not-quite-shaved stubble. It had only been three days since Tony had dropped him off and left without a word. Three days of a lot of wondering and a lot of worrying and a lot of disbelief because it was Stevie--- “How did I miss your star spangled ass getting pulled outta the ocean and set loose overseas again?” 
“Well, you weren’t around to see me go in the ice the first time, so I guess it makes sense you missed me coming back this time around.” The smile slid from Steve’s face, his mouth pulling down at the corners. “Listen, Buck I dunno what you heard about all that. About the Valkyrie and the Red Skull and what I did at the end of the war but--”” 
“I heard enough to know you’re overdue for an ass whoopin’.” James retorted and see? This was good enough to hurt, easy enough to almost be instinct. Threatening Steve with bodily harm cos the punk hadn’t learned any lessons back when he was all of four fuckin’ feet tall and he certainly hadn’t learned them after they juiced him up and sometimes the brash blond just needed a reminder to chill the hell out? 
Easy. 
James could do this all day. 
“What the hell were you thinkin’, putting the damn plane in the ice anyway.” He teased. “Everyone knows your scrawny ass can’t swim.” 
Instantly predictably Steve straightened up and set his jaw and snapped, “Hey! I know how to swim! I am an excellent swimmer!” 
“You know how’ta drown.” James corrected and then oofed theatrically loud when he was yanked out of the bedroom and into a wrestling match. 
It was easy and it was good and none of James’s more scary instincts came forward when Steve got him into a headlock, the urge to break didn’t show up overwhelming when he tossed the blond halfway across the room then jumped over and pinned him to the floor. 
“Say Uncle.” James ordered and he was laughing, not counting how many pounds of pressure it would take to crumble Steve’s bones between his fingers. “Damn you, Stevie. Say Uncle before I gotta hurt you!” 
“I’m goddamn--” Steve was huffing and puffing trying to get James off of him. “Captain America-- I don’t cry Uncle-- good god, why do you weigh so much?-- to any one!” 
“Sure you don’t.” James grinned and lay harder on his best friend. “Y’know what this reminds me of?” 
“If you say it’s like the time I tried to beat up the alter boy--” 
“--it’s just like th’time you tried to beat up the alter boy.” James confirmed, batting away Steve’s hand when the blond made a grab for his throat. “In fact, I feel like I sat on you exactly like this to keep ya from gettin’ your butt beat with a hymnal.” 
“Damn it.” Steve wheezed a few times, then finally managed the leverage to shove James off and to the side. “Why are you so heavy? Last time we wrestled I destroyed you.” 
“Last time we wrestled you were super juiced and I was still a good ol’ boy from the poor end of Brooklyn.” James jumped to his feet and hauled Steve up next to him. “Least now the playing field is even.” 
“I guess.” Steve went for a beer and tossed one to James. “I hate that it’s the case though. M’glad to see you, but I hate seein’ you like this, you know?” 
“Don’t.” James tore the top off the beer and shook his head. “I don’t wanna talk about it yet, Stevie.” 
“Alright.” Steve took a sip of his beer and nodded like ignoring the elephant of the Winter Soldier in the room wasn’t making him half insane. He should just be happy to have Bucky back, he should just be happy to have his friend back, they didn’t have to talk about everything bad yet. “Alright, well have you heard about World Wrestling Entertainment on TV?” 
“World Wrestling…” 
“WWE?” Steve’s goofy grin almost split his face. “They dress up in funky costumes and wrestle each other with all these fancy moves. I watch it on Saturday nights. We could watch it and drink beer and yell at the TV and then try the moves on each other!” 
James fought and lost against an equally goofy grin. “That’s what Captain America does on Saturday night? Watch fake wrestling and drink beer?” 
“When I’m not out blowing buildings up and hurting people until they told me how to find you.” Steve took a long drink of his beer, blue eyes glittering with a flash of anger. “But I found you, so now I get to watch bad television and try to get drunk with my best pal.” 
“Sounds like a good time.” James raised his bottle in a cheers, and when Steve turned to head towards the living room, James picked up his phone and sent a quick message to Tony. 
From James: Three days with Stevie has been great, Tony but I sure wish you’d call me back. Pep says you’re probably just giving us space but I don’t want space from you. Call me back.
“Buck!” 
“Comin’, Stevie.” 
*****************
*****************
79%
The sunrise from the top of the Eiffel Tower was incredible to see and Tony watched it while munching on possibly the freshest, most delicious croissant he could have ever imagined eating ever. 
He’d been to France a hundred times, he’d even been to Paris and the Eiffel Tower specifically a hundred times but he’d never broken the sound barrier while coming in for a landing that had him on very tip toes at the very tip top so he could test the absolute balance of the suit while eating a breakfast he’d bought with a Rolex for since he never had any cash on him.
The croissant was worth the Rolex though, the look on the vendor’s face when Iron Man landed in front of his stall completely priceless and the view of the sun coming up over the city would have only been worth more if someone had been there to share it with. 
“Sir, the hotel is calling. They want to know if you will be staying another night.” 
“Tell them no.” Tony shook his head and crammed the last bite of croissant into his mouth. “Three days in France is enough, I saw the coast and the city and the countryside so it’s time to move on. I read in a pamphlet that there are something like twenty thousand castles in Germany, is that true?” 
“Most have been converted to hotels and museums by now, but yes sir, there are several thousand that you could visit if you wanted.” 
“I want.” Tony decided. “Let’s get a map and go sight seeing.” 
“Sir, the effort of assembling and disassembling this particular suit--” 
“Yeah, I know.” Tony interrupted. “It stresses my system too much. But I’ve never just traveled for the sake of traveling and the best way to do that is at some number with Mach in front of it. Plug in some coordinates and let’s go.”  
“And the phone calls from Sergeant Barnes and Ms. Potts?” 
“Send Pepper a message and let her know I’m just fine.” The sun lit up the grounds below the Tower and Tony took a deep breath of early morning air. “I’ve disappeared for longer doing much worse than sight seeing, let her know this isn’t anything like the last time I did a tour around Europe.” 
“And Sergeant Barnes?” 
“Tell James--” Tony closed his eyes and swallowed. “Tell Bucky that I hope he’s enjoying his time with Captain Rogers and that I’ll get in contact with him when I return home.” 
“An estimated return date, sir?” 
The face plate snapped down and locked and Tony blinked a few times as the display screens filled in, the numbers uploaded from the blood toxicity monitor bright red along the bottom right hand side. 
79%
“A couple weeks, maybe.” he muttered, and then louder, “No, don’t bother with a return date. Just tell him I’ll call him when I’m home again.” 
“Yes sir. To castles, then?” 
“To castles.” The suit powered up with a roar, and Tony offered a quick salute to the crowd gathered down below with their phones and cameras out. “Maybe we’ll ever get lucky and find a dragon.” 
“I think you’ve fought enough battles for one life time, sir” 
Tony’s smile was a little melancholy. “You’d think so, huh?” 
****************
****************
From James: Got the message from JARVIS and I hope you’re back home soon. I’m feeling more like myself every day, all my memories coming back. Some days it feels incredible and some days it feels like I’m living a strangers life, but me and Stevie are figuring it out together. 
From James: Do you ever watch WWE? Stevie loves it and has a bunch recorded...or TV’ed? I dunno. Anyway. He says he would be Hollywood Hulk Hogan if he ever went into the ring and I told him there’s no way he could grow a mustache like that, then he punched me. 
From James: The dude’s a punk whether he’s pint sized or full sized. 
From James: Miss ya, sweet thing. 
“The best thing about this century is the food.” Steve said around a mouthful of deep dish supreme pizza. “Not only can I eat everything without getting sick, but everything is so damn good. Deep dish pizza in two dozen flavors. Chocolate milk-- have you had chocolate milk yet, Buck? And mozzarella sticks? They just deep fry cheese! Just deep fry it and then serve it to ya with a bunch of sauce. The other day I ate about a hundred of them and didn’t get a stomach ache. Incredible. And oh man donuts.” 
The big blond picked up another piece and folded it in half so he could take a big bite. “Have you had donuts yet? So many flavors. All of them delicious.”
“Tony took me to get donuts a few weeks ago.” James checked his phone again and then one more time. It had been nine days now since he’d last seen Tony, his text messages going unanswered and phone calls dumped to voicemail. Nine days and even though every second spent with Steve gave James something of himself back, every second spent away from Tony cost him something too and it was a delicate balance between wanting and losing and James hated it. 
“We ate them up inside that big donut down by the pier in Malibu.” he continued and Steve mumbled interested around a glob of cheese. “It was uh-- it was his birthday and he said he’d always wanted to sit up in the donut so I boosted him up. It was a good day.” 
“Tony knows about the super serum.” Steve ventured and James made a vague ‘I guess’ motion. “Did he know about it before all this?”
“Don’t think so, or at least he never said nothing.” James picked off a bunch of pepperoni and tossed it away, then smiled begrudgingly when Steve immediately scarfed it up. “You still eat like you’re starvin’, Stevie. You used’ta do that all the time.” 
“Yeah, and you used to pretend like you were never hungry so there was always more for me.” Steve helped himself to the rest of the pepperoni on number two of their three large sized pizzas. “Even after I got all Captain’d up. You doing that now?” 
“Maybe I’d eat my fair share if you’d stop eatin’ so fast.” James scowled and slapped Steve’s hand away from another piece. “M’hungry too, you know!” 
“Sorry.” Steve put both hands up peacefully, then lightning fast snatched at the last of their two dozen bread sticks. “Okay, now I’m sorry. I swear. Tell me more about Tony though, you don’t talk much about him. Is he a lot like Howard?” 
“No.” James said shortly. “No, he’s nothing like Howard.” 
He was quiet after that and Steve chewed through a bite slowly and took his time to swallow before asking, “Buck, should we talk about--” 
“When did you start feeling like you fit in?” James cut in and Steve took it for the hint it was. Bucky did not want to talk about Tony yet and Steve didn’t really know why but he knew better than to push. “When did you start feelin’ like you weren’t just pretending to be normal?” 
“About a week ago when you walked through that door.” Steve didn’t hesitate to answer as he pointed towards the apartment entryway. “The second I saw you I stopped feeling like I had to keep up some sort of appearance and I could just be me again. Not Captain Rogers, certainly not Captain America. Just Steve. Stevie. Didn’t have to check my strength to hug you, didn’t have to pretend I didn’t want to cry for finding you again, don’t have to act like everything’s okay when it’s not.” 
He said the last sentence pointedly, meaningfully. “You’re my best friend, Buck. You saved my ass that first time I didn’t need it at all in elementary school and every time after. You were there the first time I tried to kiss a dame, coached me through the uh--” he coughed. “--mechanics the first time I was with a dame. Dunno how that all worked though, seeing as how you weren��t ever interested in what was up their skirts.” 
“I found my way up there a time or two.” James smiled a tiny bit remembering those first awkward, fumbling times with the girls around the neighborhood. He’d been young and fuckin’ horny and even though he found himself looking at the fellas more often than not, the girls sure liked his blue eyes and swagger so that’s the direction James had leaned. A learning experience for sure, one that taught him how to please a dame and that dames weren’t the ones he wanted to be pleasing all in the same swoop. 
“Well either way, I could always be myself around you.” Steve finished with a half hearted shrug. “And it’s the same now. I’ve been outta the ice for three years and this is the first time I’ve felt like I wasn’t pretending. Right here with you.” 
“Three years, huh?” James’s heart sank thinking about years of never feeling normal outside of time with Steve and Tony, years of catching himself before acting, years of dealing with internal dialogue that rang like hollow commands and the instinct to first destroy and then run from anything that made him uncomfortable. “M’real sorry about that, Stevie.” 
“It’s alright.” Steve put the pizza down and wiped his hands. “I never fit in back then anyway, Buck. Not when I was skinny and scrawny and orphaned after Ma passed, not when I was super charged and wearing tights. At least in this century I’m not the biggest guy in any room, there’s entire sports teams my size and bigger. No one outside of SHIELD knows I can bench press a helicopter, but I’ve been called one of those ‘corn fed midwestern boys’ at least a half dozen times and I’m not sure what exactly it means, but it sounds All American and normal so I’ve been letting it go.” 
“Sure, I gotta pace myself on my morning runs so no one gets suspicious, and I’ve gotta be careful shaking peoples hands. I nod and smile through a lot of conversations cos I dunno what a tweet is or why JT brought Sexy Back or why it left or nothing. but hell Buck.” Steve grinned again, all boyish charm and nearly unbridled enthusiasm just like he’d always been. “If that’s the worst I gotta do to get by as normal? Then it’s fine by me.” 
“And with you I just don’t gotta pretend even that amount, so it’s nice.” Steve tapped at his chest, right over his heart. “It’s like being able to take a full breath in after battlin’ a cold all season.” 
And after a pause, “Don’t you feel like that with me?” 
James shoved most of his pizza into his mouth just to avoid answering for a minute, unsure how to tell his best friend that every time he heard the words Captain America something went tense and tight inside him, a trigger like a warning, like a mission, like an objective that had blared loud the first time they spoke. The reaction had been almost impossible to ignore at first, but had finally started to ease the in the last few days and it made him sick to his stomach. 
He didn’t understand why Stevie of all people would make him itch. This was his best friend, his best pal, and James shouldn’t feel anything but happy around Steve. Comfortable. Home. Not having to fight the instinct to go of the offensive every time he saw that damn shield. 
It was frustrating and disheartening and even thought it waned a little more every day, James still hated it. It was just another reminder that he wasn’t Bucky anymore, that there were parts of him Steve would never know and never understand. 
Tony knew those parts though.
Tony knew him. 
Tony knew James. 
“Buck?” Steve asked, soft and a little hurt but trying hard to hide it. “Do you feel like that with me?” 
“I don’t have to pretend with you, Stevie.” James clenched his left fist just to prove it and the beer bottle shattered in his palm, spilling glass all over. “Don’t gotta be careful when we wrestle or worry about sayin’ the wrong thing or keeping up on all the technology. But--” 
“--but there’s a whole bunch about you I don’t know anymore.” Steve finished resignedly. “And a lot about me you don’t know anymore. What happened after you fell changed me and what happened while I was in the ice changed you and I’ve been living one life for three years while you’ve still been putting pieces together…” 
He nodded. “I get it. It’s okay. It’s okay.” 
“Sorry, Stevie.” James closed his eyes and wished and wished and wished that he was still Bucky. Just Bucky. Just good ol’ boy Bucky who pulled Steve out of back alley fights and hid stolen kisses from nameless faces in the dark. 
Life was so much simpler back then...
...simpler and hidden and filled with so much less laughter and love.
James didn’t want to be hidden anymore. Not now that he knew what it felt like to be found. 
From James: Tomorrow Stevie wants to take me to a baseball game, turns out the Yankees still play so we’re gonna get hot dogs and cracker jacks and boo the visiting team like we used to. Would be more fun if you were there. 
From James: Miss ya, sweet thing. 
*************
*************
86% 
“Tony.” Pepper looked up in outright shock along with every other board member who had never seen Tony Stark on time for anything much less for a quarterly board meeting. “Um. Hi?” 
“Don’t mind me, Ms. CEO.” Tony slid into the chair next to Pepper and patted at her knee. “I just figured I could make an appearance for once. As the on-staff mechanic for Stark Industries I am very interested in board meetings. Please continue, don’t let me interrupt.” 
“Al...right.” Pepper blinked at least a thousand times, then cleared her throat and mentioned for the person at the front of the conference room to keep talking. “Sorry for the interruption, please continue.” 
The meeting droned on, and Tony lasted all of two minutes and four seconds before patting at Pepper’s knee again and whispering, “Hey. You’re allergic to strawberries.” 
“Yes.” she whispered back. “Yes, I am but what does that have to do with why you’ve suddenly decided for once in your life to show up for a board meeting?” 
“Because every year I get you something strawberry themed for your birthday.” he leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “Because all I manage to remember is there is something important to you about strawberries but this year, I remembered that you’re allergic and that’s why you always do that cute scrunch nose that means you’re pissed off but trying to be polite.” 
“...you are one hundred percent correct.” 
“And I am one hundred percent sorry for taking like fourteen years to figure it out.” Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, pressed it into Pepper’s palm beneath the table. “But I couldn’t resist buying you one last strawberry.” 
“One last strawberry?” she muttered and Tony nodded. “So this will be the last time you buy me something I’m incredibly and ugly-allergic to? You promise?” 
“I promise this will be the last time--” the very last time. “--I buy you something you’re incredibly allergic to.” Tony swore. “And by the way? You’re never ugly. Not once in your entire life have you been ugly.” 
“I feel like you’re sucking up to compensate for being gone for two weeks with no word.” Pepper hissed, then raised a hand apologetically when several heads swiveled their way. “And another damn strawberry isn’t going to make up for the fact that I’ve been worried sick for-- Holy shit, is that real?!” 
Whispering forgotten, Pepper clapped her hand over her mouth when she cursed out loud in the meeting over the sight of this particular strawberry. “Tony Stark what the fuck?!” 
“Uh, forgive us guys.” Tony laughed and put a hand over Pepper’s mouth too. “And I’m just now realizing how embarrassing it is that I don’t know any of your names considering you’ve been my board members for the past twenty years, but you’ll have to excuse the new CEO. Apparently there are some things that do rattle the always unflappable Ms. Potts.” 
“Yeah!” Pepper blurted. “Like when I’ve got my hand on a ridiculously big--” Tony snorted a laugh and Pepper jumped to her feet to drag him out of the board room while calling apologies over her shoulder. 
“Tell me, Ms. Potts.” Tony asked once they were in his her office. “What ridiculously big thing do you have your hand on?” 
“Tony, what is this?” Pepper opened the box again and held up the beautiful huge ring. “Is this a pink diamond? Why--” 
“This is the Strawberry Pink Diamond.” Tony took the ring and slipped it onto Pepper’s middle finger. “It’s out of Brazil. Do you like it?” 
“The last strawberry thing you’re going to buy me is a strawberry diamond?” Pepper’s voice was still doing that high pitched squeaky thing. “Tony, what is this for?” 
“It’s because I love you.” he said simply, and tossed the box onto her desk. “And because the ring was ridiculously over priced which meant I had to have it and I couldn’t think of anyone else who would look half this pretty wearing it.” 
“It’s so big.” For all her practicality, Pepper couldn’t help gaping at the arrangement, at the beautifully pink center diamond and the contrasting blue gems around it. “Tony, seriously what the hell, it’s so big. It’s like an iceberg! I can’t even see where the Titanic hit it! What is this, four carats?” 
“Almost exactly.” Tony smiled to himself watching Pepper smile so big. “Do you like it?” 
“Well I can promise to never complain about strawberries again if this is what you mean!” Pepper flushed in pleasure, holding her hand up to the light to watch the sun sparkle off the stones. “And I’ll also never complain about you disappearing if you always bring me back sparkly things.” 
“The next time I disappear, I’ll bring you back sparkly things.” Tony promised, swallowing around the grief clawing up his throat. “Now how about you step off those sky scrapers you call shoes and give me a kiss so I can go home and shower. The trip back from Brazil was a sweaty one.” 
“You’re disgusting.” Pepper laughed softly and bent down to kiss Tony very gently on the lips. “And I take off my heels for no one, Mr. Mechanic. Not now that I’m the CEO.” 
“That’s my girl.” Tony laughed right back, then picked up her hand and kissed her palm. “The ring looks better on you than it ever did on display in that jewelry store. Keep it. Wear it all the time.” 
“Thank you.” Pepper pulled Tony in for a tight hug. “I’ve been worried about you, are you okay? After you got James together with Captain Rogers you just fell off the map. I’ve been worried.” 
“Well I’m just fine now that I’m squished in your boobs.” Tony mumbled and Pepper jabbed at his side with a quick, “Oh shut up, you don’t even like boobs.” 
“Pepper, everyone likes your boobs.” He countered and she huffed and pushed him away. “How late are you in meetings tonight?” 
“At least another couple hours.” Pepper smoothed the wrinkles from her suit. “And don’t think I don’t see you dodging the question about James. Dinner tonight and we can talk about it?” 
“I owe Rhodey a grossly big steak, but we can have breakfast tomorrow?” 
“Of course. I’ll make you something delicious.” 
“You’ll have donuts with me and not complain when the cream filling splooges on your blouse.” He countered and Pepper sighed. “Love you.” 
“I love you too.” Pepper paused at the board room door and blew him a kiss. “I’m glad you’re home again, Tony.” 
“Me too, Pep. Me too.” 
86%
****************** 
******************
James woke screaming-- 
--James woke trying to scream, shredding the blankets between his fists and arching up off the bed and then something pinned him down and he tried to scream louder--
“Bucky!” Steve was shouting at him, grabbing at his arms and laying all his not inconsiderable weight across the other soldier. “Bucky! Wake up! It’s a nightmare, bud! It’s a nightmare, just wake up!” 
It was cold and James was scared. It was cold and he was falling. It was cold and it hurt so bad when they took his arm, when they cut torn tendons and sawed away splintered bone and it was cold when they shoved him into a container and it was cold cold cold as the ice climbed the window and silenced his scream and--
“Bucky.” 
James jerked awake, surged forward and grabbed for Tony, “Tony?!” 
“Hey hey hey, it’s me. It’s Stevie. It’s me.” 
It was blue eyes not dark brown. Blonde hair not soft curls. Mouth set in a grim line instead of lips parted laughing. 
It was Steve, not Tony.
“Stevie.” James fell forward and collapsed into Steve’s arms, let his friend take his weight and soothe his shaking. “Jesus Christ.” 
“What is it?” Steve ran his hands through James’s hair, across the broad shoulders, skittering away from the hard edge of metal to press at James’s back instead. “What was that? Was it like--” he swallowed. “--was it like after Azzano when you had nightmares? About what they did to you at the camp?” 
“No.” 
“Winter Soldier stuff then.” Steve nearly whispered, and James nodded almost imperceptibly into his shoulder. “The-- the chair they kept you in? The cryo chamber?” 
“Fuckin’ cold, Stevie.” 
“Yeah.” Steve felt around for a blanket and drew it up around James’s shoulders. “Yeah, I know how that feels.”
They hadn’t really talked about it, about James’s time with Hydra. Steve had confirmed only enough to explain the flashes James got, the tactical knowledge and the way he could measure potential injuries with just a glance. Steve had mentioned the chair, which explained the panic attack in Tony’s lab. He talked about the memory wipes and the cryo freeze and the way they’d used James for decades which is why his memory and concept of time was all over the place. 
Steve hadn’t talked about the missions. He swore on the Bible, on puttin’ flowers on their Ma’s graves, on the time they’d gone on the Cyclone and Stevie had barfed for hours-- he swore he hadn’t read the files, promised Natasha had burned them all the ash, told James over and over that it wasn’t about what he’d done as their prisoner, as their captor. It wasn’t even about what had been done to James, it was about him being safe and about him being home. 
So no, they hadn’t really talked about it, nothing more than a few confirmations of James’s fears and then the topic had been dropped. 
Why dwell on the past when they both somehow had a new future? Why stress about all the things they couldn’t control when they finally had the chance to move on?
No, they hadn’t really talked about it, nothing more than just enough to bring James’s nightmares back and Steve felt guilty about it every time. 
“I shouldn’t have told you.” he started and James shook his head, “I needed the answers, Stevie. Needed them. It’s okay.” 
 “You want some hot chocolate?” 
“Want some cheeseburgers.” James grunted. “Want a damn cheeseburger.” 
“Okay where from--” 
“I got a guy.” 
From James: Happy, I need a burger.
From Happy: I’m already a glass of wine deep into my evening and watching my Downton Abby, what in the hell am I supposed to do about that?
From James: I need a CHEESEburger.
From Happy: I’ll call a guy who knows somebody. Give me an hour. 
An hour later there was a polite knock at Steve’s apartment door, and the fanciest dressed delivery guy either of them had ever seen smiled, handed over a greasy bag of cheeseburgers from James’s favorite franchise, then turned on an expensive heel and stalked away. 
“Uh Buck?” Steve held up the bag in confusion. “Why did we get cheeseburgers delivered by some guy in a penguin suit?” 
“Happy knows a guy who knows somebody.” James was freshly showered and feeling better, but he felt better better when he could flop down on the couch and tear into the food. “Have one Stevie, they’re so good.” 
“...what’s with the cheeseburgers?” Steve sat down slowly and reached for one of the paper wrapped sandwiches. “Why does it seem like a big thing?” 
“It’s Tony’s thing.” James explained, wiping ketchup from his mouth. “Or Happy’s thing for Tony, I dunno. Something about how any time Tony’s having a hard time, he wants cheeseburgers and it’s Happy’s job to get them. Pep has a bad day, Happy grabs some cheeseburgers. Rhodey--” 
“Rhodey. You mean Colonel James Rhodes?” 
“--Rhodey.” James nodded. “Rhodey even gets them, and the first time me and Happy hung out, he got ‘em for me too. They make me feel better.” 
“Alright.” Steve took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Buck, you don’t ever talk about Tony. I mean, you talk about him but you never come right out and say anything real. Why not?” 
“Why does it matter?” 
“Cos I watched you hide for years.” Steve said bluntly, and James flushed. “I watched you sneak out way late at night to meet someone and then see the same person in the daylight and act like you’d never seen them before. I watched you dance with the dames just so you didn’t have to stand alone at the wall. I watched you hide and now we’re both here in a time where you don’t have to hide…” 
Steve let the sentence dangle, but James didn’t answer. “M’just sayin’ Buck. The man that showed up here cared an awful lot about you, and I can see it your eyes you care about him. I sorta thought you’d have a damn wedding ring on your finger when you came in, or figured I’d get a hug then you two would run off into the sunset. So why don’t you talk about him?” 
A beat of silence, and Steve added awkwardly, “Is it-- I mean, you ain’t ashamed, are you? You don’t have to be ashamed, Buck. I know the neighborhood fellas were real assholes back in the day but it’s okay now, you know? People are okay with all of that now, with fellas liking fellas and-- girls-- you know.” 
He spread his hands vaguely. “Or anyway, most people are, and we can just punch the ones who aren’t.”  
“M’not ashamed, Stevie.” James denied. “Just uh-- “ he chuckled softly. “You know how I used to punch you if you’d come and try to talk to me about Peggy? Figure you’d do the same thing if I told you about how me and Tony get in bed.” 
“I definitely don’t want to hear how you and Howard’s kid are in bed.” Steve immediately objected, and then softer, “But I loved Pegs and I feel like what you and Tony have got is more along those lines too, yeah? So why haven’t you talked to me about him?” 
“Stevie.” James bit at his tongue until it bled-- and then healed-- as he tried not to think of the dozens of messages he’d sent in the last weeks, the phone calls that hadn’t been answered, the way Pepper had texted to let him know Tony was in Malibu but was buried in some project in the lab and barely talking to anyone, not to take it personally. 
But James was taking it personally because he physically ached to get Tony back in his arms. Because every morning he woke up in Steve’s spare bedroom instead of Tony’s bed felt awful. Because he felt like he was hiding away again instead of being free in the pure sunshine that was Tony’s smile. 
He was miserable and maybe even a little heart broken and missed Tony until he hurt from it. 
Steve was his best friend but Tony had found him.
“He found me, Stevie.” James whispered and the Captain stilled next to him. “Tony he-- he found me. I was nothing and I was nobody and Tony saw me from across the room and found me. I didn’t even know my last name or how long I’d been homeless or what the hell I was doing in D.C. and Tony didn’t care. He found me and he saw me. He saw me.” 
“He gave me a home.” James opened and closed his left hand, silver fingers gleaming. “Put me back together. My body, my heart-- hell Stevie, I think he gave me my mind back.” 
“So why haven’t you talked about him?” Steve pressed. “Buck if he found you and gave you a home why aren’t you two goin’ after a happily ever after together? Been long enough in the making, don’t you want it?” 
“Course I want it, but Tony hasn’t talked to me since he brought me here.” James tightened his fingers into a fist. “He’s not answering my calls, he’s not getting my texts and I don’t know what’s going on. Sure seems like what I want and what he wants are different things.” 
“No way.” Steve denied. “No way. He probably just figured we’d need the time to catch up. Seventy years apart makes for a lot of conversation, Buck. Maybe Tony thinks he’s doing you a favor or is bein’ subtle so it’s not awkward if you decide you want to stay here or whatever.” 
“There’s nothing subtle about Tony.” James disagreed. “Nothing subtle or tactful or-- or anything like that, not when he’s being funny, not when he’s being nice. Hell Stevie, the first time we were together he sat me down and just told me he wanted to take me to bed, or wanted me to take him to bed, whichever I preferred. He told off some high and mighty politician who looked at me wrong and I-- I know he’s sick.” 
“I know he’s sick.” James finished on a sigh. “That’s why I’m so worried. He’s probably at the doctors at the hospital and ditched me here with you so I wouldn’t have to see him go through it. He lied to me about it all the time and I can’t even be made about it cos he was doing it so I wouldn’t worry. Me and Ms. Potts and Rhodey and Happy.” 
“So he’s not being subtle about letting you stay here, he’s being pretty damn obvious that you should stay here.” Steve clarified. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s it.” James’s pale eyed dimmed in distress. “Half of me thinks I should show up and force him to talk to me. The other half knows I should let him work through it how he wants. I’m just worried. I had enough of watchin’ you almost die every winter Stevie, I don’t want to do it with Tony too.”
"...exactly how sick is Tony?” Steve asked slowly. “Cos I over heard Fury and Natasha talking about him the other day and they sounded worried too.” 
“I don’t like Fury, Steve. He’s got too many secrets.”
“Yeah, even his trench coat’s got secrets, I know.” Steve pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “And I dunno why he was talking about Tony, but let’s just call and ask. No worries. We’ll figure it out.” 
No worries, Steve said like there wasn’t anything strange about a man like Fury talking with a woman like Natasha about Tony. 
No worries, Steve said like James could ignore the uncomfortable that had crawled down his spine the first time Fury had shown up and looked him over with his one good eye and made an unimpressed noise in his throat while patting at his gun with his free hand.
No worries, Steve said like James had been able to sleep at all the last several  weeks knowing Tony was out there who knows where and alone and ignoring calls and messages--
“Captain Rogers. I thought you’d be too busy with your boyfriend to report in for duty.” 
“I’m not reporting in for duty.” Steve said blandly, and then almost belatedly, “Oh and Buck isn’t my boyfriend. Sheesh. No we wanna know why you and Nat were talking about Tony the other day. Bucky hasn’t heard from him in a few weeks.” 
“No one has heard from Stark in a few weeks.” Fury answered shortly. “The guy’s been finalizing his will and naming beneficiaries and spending the last couple weeks sight seeing everything the world has to offer. You can’t expect a dying man to keep up on text messages.” 
Silence in the apartment, and Steve turned wide, horrified eyes to James. 
“...what did he say.” James whispered in disbelief. “What did he say about Tony dying?” 
“Director can you repeat--” 
“Romanov gave him a shot in the neck the day he barged into your life, but it wasn’t meant to last long term. You telling me the world’s best soldier and your best friend Mega Scary Assassin didn’t notice the black lines all over his chest and crawling up his neck?” 
“Tony is dying?” 
“Palladium poisoning thanks to that battery in his chest.” Fury had the good grace to at least sound somewhat apologetic about dropping the news so unexpectedly. “Rogers, Barnes, I really thought you two knew. Figured you were giving him space to die in peace.” 
Silence silence silence and then the sound of something breaking and Fury waited a beat before asking, “You still there?” 
“I need transportation to Malibu for Buck!” Steve sounded like he was running now, breathing hard as he pounded down the stairs and out of his apartment building. “I need it now! Something fast!” 
“Pick up location?” Fury asked over the noise of horns honking and someone screaming in alarm. “Rogers? Where are you and Barnes?” 
“Bucky took off running down the goddamn freeway.” Steve shouted. “He’s going too fast for me to keep up--” 
“--Shit, I didn’t think anyone could outrun your spangled ass--” 
“--I need a craft for pick up as soon as possible! Give me an ETA!” 
“I can have something airborne from HQ in two minutes. What’s his current position?” 
“Running along the top of the bus past the bridge at fourth?” 
“Oh motherfuck--” 
*************
************* 
“Sir?” 
Tony’s hands were shaking as he picked up the blood monitor, and he hissed in pain when his nearly fried nerves lit up in agony over the tiny prick. 
“Sir, if I could interrupt?” 
“Jesus Christ.” Tony’s legs gave out and he slumped back into a nearby chair, one hand over his heart, the other clutched tight around the monitor. “J-- what-- what--” 
He was panting, sweating, hardly able to take a breath without his chest seizing, the black lines at the reactor and his neck trailing down his arms and almost to his fingers now. His vision went blurry if he stared for more than a few minutes, he was constantly thirsty and damn near dehydrated and the little bit of food he’d managed the last few nights had ended with him stumbling back to the bathroom and vomiting until stars burst behind his temples. 
He was so scared. 
“J--” 
“Sir, Sergeant Barnes is on his way up the drive.” 
“...what?” 
“A distinctly non civilian air craft dropped him off in the street and he is up the steps and nearly at the door. Should I allow him in?” 
“Please…” Tony’s head lolled back as he tried to breathe. “J, please--” 
“Tony?” A shout from upstairs and pounding footsteps as the soldier ran down the stairs to the lab. “Tony? Sweet thing?” 
“Thank god.” Tony managed only a glimpse of pale blue eyes and silver fingers before his vision went black. “James--” 
“Tony!” 
...The blood monitor slipped out of Tony’s hand and fell to floor flashing a steady ninety-one percent.
...91% and when James reached for Tony, the beautiful brunette was too cold, too still, barely breathing.
...“Tony?” 
91%
**************
Chapter Notes: 
Tony sits still for 2 mins and 4 seconds because the IM2 run time is 2 hours, 4 mins. 
I didn’t want to skip the strawberry part of the movie, but I like my version better. THIS is Pepper’s ring and honestly, I totally want one. 
I grew up watching WWF/WWE and I will probably watch it till the day I die. 
We made a purposeful decision to avoid any CACW related angst in this fic. The idea that who James/Bucky IS will always be more important than who he was, what was done to him/what they made him do and I think everyone deserves to be seen as a person first and foremost instead of their list of past mistakes and/or trauma. 
That being said, 91% is a reference to 1991, the year the MCU WS ruined Tony’s life but in this verse, the number where James comes to his rescue. 
SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!
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@quietgayguy @bluedreamdino @akimi-youngblood @blackstar1602 @dixiehellcat @travellover1245 @capnstarkey @the-awkward-teenaged-one @thanossucks @peteryoulittleshit @tony-and-steeeb @striving-artist @roe-sesandthorns @coolsidedpillow @i-am-worth-it-25 @firelightmystic @maligatorthealigator @simsccsol @a-tardis-in-221b @happyendingrequired @everygoodoneistaken11 @pootie-and-the-snoots @megahuffledor @xkissmeimirishx @crystalskrull @hazelbeatsturtle @wecollectnightmares @endrega23 @saganarojanaolt @the-crazy-house @ravynfyre @yomama-umbridge @lovely--tony @gayspacesprinkles @elliotkaingrey @warmachinesocks @glitternotgold73 
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imaginingsoftly · 4 years
Text
Baseball Trivia Pt. 2 - Josh Anderson
Type: Y/N insert shorts, strangers to enemies-ish to lovers, series
Requested: No
Warnings: standard swearing
There was no fucking way. Y/N stared at Thatcher as he talked, but the words he was saying weren’t computing. No fucking way was Josh Anderson on his way to Vancouver. It was like fate had heard her think that they would never meet again and laughed as she sent Josh in Y/N’s direction. “Earth to Y/N, where the fuck did you just go?” She snapped back to the present, shaking her head and smiling at the mountain of a man in front of her instead of responding. Thatcher gave her another weird look before continuing. “We’re gonna have the end-of-summer barbeque at my place after the last day of training camp, and I expect you to be there. Someone’s gotta help me man the grill.” 
It was tradition. End-of-summer barbeques had become a thing beginning their sophomore year at BC, after the pair had become close during their freshman year. Almost eight years later it was still a yearly tradition, though now the barbeque was extended to the entirety of the training-camp team rather than just a few friends. “Took you long enough to pick a date,” Y/N retorted, slapping the bill of Thatcher’s baseball hat. “ I thought I was gonna have to have a barbeque all by myself.” Thatcher slapped the bill of her hat in response, and it turned into an all-out war. As an only child, Thatcher had become the closest thing she had to a brother, shenanigans included. It was refreshing to have someone to mess with who wouldn’t get upset when she roughhoused a little. 
Even while trying not to let Thatcher and his professional athlete muscles overpower her much smaller frame Y/N found her mind wandering back to Josh. There was really no reason for her to be freaking out as much as she was. It was one hook up. There were no strings implied, no numbers exchanged, it’s not like she ghosted the guy, not really. Thatcher had never really expressed any distaste towards her dating other NHLers, but it was different when it came to his teammates. They were like his brothers, and were therefore her brothers by extension. In other words, off limits. 
She really just needed to relax. He wasn’t even on the team when they got together. Everything would be fine. Josh was part of the family now, and she would follow his lead. If he wanted people to know they hooked up then fine, but if he wanted to act like a stranger that was even better. Thatcher was a little bit too protective of Y/N at times, and she religiously avoided getting into it with his teammates just to make sure she didn’t mess with team chemistry. Honestly, there was a chance Josh wouldn’t even remember her. It’s not like the guy had a glowing reputation anyway, and they had been drinking. It would be fine. Maybe if Y/N repeated it to herself often enough, she would start to believe it. 
Y/N sighed heavily, giving in as Thatcher managed to wrestle her into a headlock. “Seriously, Y/N, are you okay?” Thatcher released his arm and turned her so they were facing each other. Crap. Here comes the interrogation. “You’ve been on another planet since we started talking. What gives?” She shrugged. There was no way she was going there right now. 
“I guess I’m just tired, bro,” she said with a shrug, “conference play just started. I’ve got a lot on my plate.” Thatcher reached up to squeeze her shoulders, and Y/N struggled not to cringe at how easily he ate up her lie. It sucked to lie to him, but there was no way she was going to tell him about Josh, not without talking to Josh first. Her response seemed to placate Thatcher, and he gave up on that line of questioning after making Y/N promise to take care of herself. 
Keeping things from Thatcher was tough; he was there for her after her boyfriend of three years broke up with her halfway through their junior year of college, he drove her down to UConn the summer after graduation so she could begin her first internship as a college grad, and he’d been the one to welcome her to Vancouver with open arms after the completion of said internship. He was there for every important part of her adult life, and now the one thing she hadn’t told him was going to bite her in the ass. The universe was out to get her. 
Training camp would begin tomorrow, and in a couple of weeks Y/N would have to face Josh in the same backyard she was sitting in at the moment. There went any sleep she had planned to get before basketball was added to her workload. 
---Josh POV--------------------------------------------------
“So there’s no one in your life? No girl at all? Not even a hookup?” The questions were getting annoying, to say the least. It wasn’t the guys’ fault; they just wanted to get to know him. The problem was that he shouldn’t be doing this. He was supposed to stay in Columbus, live his life there until he retired and then move back to Canada. 
Josh shook his head. “No hookup. Although there was this one girl,” he said with a small smile, “she was something else. We talked for hours at the bar, and she knew so much about baseball and hockey history. We hooked up, and then she was gone when I woke up the next morning. No note, no number, nothing. And she was from out of town, so I couldn’t even try running into her at the same bar again.” All of the guys groaned sympathetically, and they finally let that line of questioning go. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought about that girl in months. She had been fun to talk to, and tough enough to dish back everything Boone and Seth had thrown at her, but it wasn’t like he wanted to fucking marry the girl or anything. Mostly, it was the fact that she had left that stuck with him. He was always the one leaving. The girls usually tried to hang around, maybe try to get more than one night. It was an asshole thing to think, he knew that, but damn it sucked to be on the other end of it. He didn’t even know where she lived. In all of their time talking he only learned she worked at a university. He didn’t even know if it was in the States or Canada. 
A tape ball connected with the side of his head, and Josh shot a glare at Bo from across the locker room. A middle finger almost followed, until he noticed video cameras catching the exchange. Josh waved at the intern behind the camera sheepishly. They would have had to cut that for their welcome back video if he hadn’t caught himself. Another tape ball came flying at his head, courtesy of Stecher, and Josh whipped that one back at his teammate with a grin. The guys were alright, even if some of them could be pretty childish. Even Hughes acted older than some of the guys, and he was the team baby. A body slumped down into the stall next to Josh’s, and he looked over to find Thatcher watching him. “‘Sup, Dems?” 
Thatcher smiled up at Josh, a shock considering the choice words he’d thrown in Josh’s direction after a particularly nasty dangle he’d put past the goalie at the end of practice. “Barbeque at my place this afternoon.” Shit. He’d planned on exploring the city, maybe finding a hookup tonight. “Non-negotiable, everyone comes,” Thatcher interrupted, almost like he knew Josh was about to refuse. “It’s a tradition. One of my college friends and I get together and man the grill. We’ve been doing it for almost eight years now. Bring yourself and your booze of choice if it isn’t beer or wine.” Josh nodded. Your goalie says you come to some end-of-summer party, you go to the party. Don’t mess with a goalie’s traditions or superstitions. Thatcher stood, punching Josh’s shoulder. “Everybody starts showing up around 4. See you then.” 
Thatcher made his way around the locker room repeating the same announcement, and it was met with shouts of excitement and reminiscing on barbecues of year’s past. Clearly it was a hit. Brock and Petey somehow roped Josh into riding to the party with them, promising that Josh would be happy he’d taken an Uber with them instead of driving himself. “The drinking is legendary,” Brock had promised, a solemn nod of agreement coming from both Petey and Stecher, who flanked Brock. Legendary parties were his thing. This would be even ground, and he could keep up. Bring on the drinking.
--Y/N POV----------------------------------------------------
Y/N woke up the day of the barbeque feeling sick as the Dropkick Murphys blasted on her alarm. It didn’t matter how many times she told herself it would be fine, running into the guy she had ghosted was going to suck. Hopefully he was as interested in revealing their hookup as she was, and it would never get mentioned again. 
She groaned as her alarm continued to scream the lyrics to Rose Tattoo, reaching up to swipe the alarm off her phone. Thatcher was expecting her at his place before he left for camp in an hour with a list of groceries for him to pick up on the way home. The desserts Y/N had prepared the night before were sitting on the counter when she stumbled into the kitchen for coffee, mocking her with their chocolatey stare. It was going to be one of those days. She caved, shoving one of the cupcakes into her mouth with a groan. If she didn’t get a handle on herself before she made it to Thatcher’s he was going to get suspicious. The last time she acted this strangely some poor kid from the Comets almost got punched for flirting with her. The guys had good intentions, but sometimes they took the caveman shit too far. 
With her coffee brewed and cupcake eaten, Y/N shuffled into the bathroom to get ready for the day. She washed her face and brushed her teeth on autopilot, debating if mascara were really necessary. The guys had seen her at her worst, and she didn’t really care what they thought about the sprinkling of acne on her jawline that just wouldn’t go away. It’s not like she was interested in any of those idiots. Well, any of the idiots that had been with the team before a couple of weeks ago, anyway.
A hat would be necessary, even if she was just going to be in Thatcher’s house until it was time to grill. Her nose would burn something awful if she didn’t wear something with a bit of protection, and the soccer games she was working that week would just add to the burn. Hat protection for sure. She slapped on an old BC Hockey hat, one she’d stolen from Thatcher, and looked into her closet with a sigh. The decision on what to wear took far too long. The guys loved to throw her in the pool, especially Brock when he got drunk, so her bathing suit needed to be reliable. The problem was that they also loved to take photos for their social media pages, and her most reliable swimsuits were also the least flattering. The black and white striped bikini was the most durable, but Y/N really wanted to wear the strappy midnight blue one-piece she’d gotten on a whim during a day trip to Seattle. Durability won out in the end, and the bikini was stuffed into her bag beside the pajamas that would inevitably find use when she didn’t want to go all the way home at the end of the night. 
Y/N’s drive to Thatcher’s was relaxing. She lived in the middle of the city, fond of the ability to walk down the street to the grocery store or the bars, but Thatcher’s place was right outside the city, on a quiet sidestreet that better resembled a neighborhood in her hometown. She stopped at their favorite coffee shop on her way out of the city, picking up another coffee for her and a breakfast sandwich for Thatcher. It didn’t matter how many times the nutritionist told him to knock it off, Y/N knew he relied on those sandwiches to get him through morning skates. In no way was Thatcher a happy camper in the morning. His attitude rivaled even hers. Thatcher was waiting outside when she arrived, sitting on his front stoop like she had missed curfew or something. 
“You’re late,” Thatcher called as she opened her door, “and you’re gonna make me late for camp if you don’t hurry it the fuck up.” Y/N raised her middle finger in response, leaning back into the car for the desserts. Thatcher appeared behind her to help carry things, and Y/N had to slap his hand away from the trays when he tried to reach for a cookie. If he ate one now, he’d eat them all by the time the actual party started. She’d learned that lesson the hard way. Y/N placed the breakfast sandwich on top of the tray of cookies Thatcher was carrying, and he leaned down quickly to kiss her cheek. “You’re the bomb, bro, my saviour.” Y/N rolled her eyes. He was so dramatic about his breakfast sandwiches. 
Y/N finally managed to get Thatcher out the door and off to camp with a promise to get the backyard ready for that night, so long as he grabbed the necessary groceries on the way home. It was their agreement since they’d both settled in Vancouver; she brought dessert and got the house ready for guests, Thatcher bought all the food and alcohol. Everything was ready for the night, really, with the exception of the grill. It looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since she cleaned it last summer, so Y/N grabbed all of her cleaning supplies with a sigh. She needed a clean grill if they were going to make burgers tonight. That was non-negotiable. 
---Josh POV--------------------------------------------------
Brock and Stecher were far too loud when they were tipsy. Petey was fine, if anything even more quiet than normal, but the other two were borderline obnoxious. The pregame had begun the moment everyone rolled up to Brock’s place, and Josh had to admit he hadn’t expected it. Pregaming a team party was a little weird, but hey, he was with a bunch of fellow hockey players. They didn’t always do things that made sense. Herding them into the Uber waiting on the street outside Petey’s apartment was no easy feat, and Josh felt himself sweating a little bit as the responsible one of the party. This never happened. He was always the one being herded.
The ride was long, as apparently Thatcher lived outside the city, and Brock kept Josh entertained with stories of barbecues past. “I think the worst, though, was that time Jake almost drowned.” Stecher started laughing, and Josh stared at him uncomfortably. A teammate almost drowning was funny? Brock must have caught his expression, because he hurriedly continued. “He wasn’t actually drowning, he was just so drunk that he sat in the shallow end and yelled for help. It came up to like his chest.” Stecher roared with laughter again, and Josh joined in a little bit. That must’ve been a sight.
Thatcher’s house was far too nice for a bachelor, a moderately large home that was built for a small family and not a single hockey player who basically lived on the road. It was homey-looking, covered in gray wooden shingles and boasting a wrap-around porch Josh envied. It was perfect for sitting with a small group of friends. He could only imagine the inside, if the outside was any indication. The landscaping and yard decorations gave away that Thatcher hadn’t decorated the place himself. The inside probably looked like a design catalogue vomited on it.
Cars lined the long driveway and the street in front of it, all Range Rovers and fancy sports cars guys who didn’t know how to spend their money splurged for. Josh caught himself as the wave of negative thoughts continually rolled over him. These were his teammates, not the enemy. Those thoughts weren’t helpful. 
Josh was pulled out of his line of thinking by the stopping of the Uber, and he was the only one to thank the older guy driving as they all piled out of the car. Petey led the way into the house, though Stecher made his presence known with a shouted hello as he brought them through a hallway that indeed looked like a design catalogue and into a bright and airy kitchen. The cabinets were white, as were the countertops, though most of the walls were covered in some kind of dark teal tile. 
Thatcher was slumped on a countertop, flicking the bill of the baseball cap on the girl in front of him. He laughed when she raised a middle finger at him, flicking the hat again. The girl mumbled something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like a threat, in a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. She reached up and smacked Thatcher’s hand when he went to flick her hat again, and Thatcher laughed harder as he swept three beers off the counter and walked back outside through the accordion doors to his left. The girl shook her head after him, though the moment was broken when Brock stumbled into the room behind Josh. 
“Y/N!” Brock yelled enthusiastically. He threw his arms around the girl from behind, and the laugh she let out made Josh freeze. It couldn’t be. “Babe,” Brock continued, “you’ve gotta meet our new teammate. He’s your kind of player. Likes to hit things.” Brock began to turn the girl around by the arm still slung over her shoulders, and Josh almost shouted at him to stop. He knew that laugh, and the girl attached couldn’t be here. Their eyes met, and Josh saw the panic he felt reflected in her eyes.
He was so fucked. 
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lilhemmo · 4 years
Note
Can I uh get a "bookshop au" + "flirting under fire" au for sweet pea? your writing is so good and he's my baby please give me more
a/n: yes, friend, you can!!! i know this is.. old, but, hey, what can i say? i’m not apologizing!! 
ps, dear chels @the-gargoyle-queen i am so sorry for picking on your ghoulies but it’s just sO EASY
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You’d inherited the book shop from your grandmother once she passed, but you never really had a hand in it until you heard about the state Riverdale was in. So, you packed your things and moved back into the loft upstairs, taking a much more direct approach with the store. 
You bought books online, through thrift stores - anything you could find to keep the shelves stocked. Eventually, your shop was a safe haven - a Switzerland, if you will. It was a place where anyone from any walk of life could take a seat and escape the world.
There were high schoolers who host homework and study sessions, middle aged moms who gather for book club, and even Southsiders who show up just to get away from the street’s carnage every once and a while.
The tattoo artist from the Pretty Poison Tattoo Parlor stops by once a week for a new book on nature and you’ve managed to have a short conversation with him each time.
You’ve learned his name - Sweet Pea - and that he gets the books to study for his tattoos. A lot of the people who come in are female bikers who want different flowers mixed with skulls and crossbones tattooed on them, so he has to be educated.
“Got another random tattoo booking later this week, gotta learn how to draw…” Sweet Pea shakes his head, holding out the book, “Whatever the hell these are.”
You’re laughing but then the whole room goes silent, cold. You look up just as a car steers off from the road and crashes into your glass windows. Sweet Pea wastes no time in hopping over the counter and grabbing you up, turning so his back is to the car and you’re caged under his arms.
“Shit,” he shakes his head, turning get a glance of the people in the car. “Fuckin’ Ghoulies.”
You blink slowly, your head spinning as your heart beats increasingly faster, “G-Ghoulies? Here?!”
Sweet Pea nods and for the first time you notice the serpent tattoo on his neck. You’ve only known him through the winter, and now that it’s spring, he’s no longer wearing turtle necks or thick jackets to cover his tattoo. You grip him by the flannel, staring up at him, “B-But this isn’t…this is supposed to be a safe space.”
“Seems like the Ghoulies don’t agree with you. Call 911, I’m gonna see if I can do anything.”
He’s gone before you can protest, and you swear you hear the zing of a knife in the air, but you disregard it. Grabbing up your phone, you call the police and shakily tell them all of the details. Luckily there are officers on foot who make it there before too much carnage breaks loose.
They have to grab up Sweet Pea and administer medical treatment and also question him regarding the knife wounds they found slashed into various Ghoulies, but he manages to describe it well enough as self-defense that they release him once they’re finished.
“H-How can I thank you?” you ask, wrapping yourself up in a blanket given to you by the police department.
Sweet Pea shrugs, “I like gettin’ to kick those jackasses around, so I don’t need a thank you.”
You’re smiling and he wants to ask why, but the sound of shattering glass makes him pause. Your frame is practically shaking, and he remembers a conversation where you told him you lived in the book shop, above the store in a one bedroom situation.
“Hey,” he nudges your calf with the toe of his boot, “do you need a place to stay?”
You swallow, blinking the tears away as you realize that your home has been crashed into, your livelihood ruined for an innumerable amount of time. You shake your head despite yourself, “No, I-I think the county is going to give me a bit of an allowance to stay at the motel up the street.”
“That place is infested with cockroaches,” Sweet Pea chuffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you come shack up with me and Toni at Poison? She’s hardly there anyway, now that she’s got that little Northsider girlfriend, so you can take her bed.”
The laugh that bubbles from your lips makes him look you over again - still in your resolve, head held high despite your home being destroyed and your heart and soul crashed by a set of pathetic Ghoulies trying to make a name for themselves.
“I don’t know that your roommate would like you giving up her bed,” you sigh, glancing up at him through thick, wet lashes. “Really, it’s okay.”
Sweet Pea shrugs, “Well, it’s always available, okay? We’ve got a pull out couch too, if you change your mind.”
-
Well, you do change your mind.
Sweet Pea is all but not surprised to see you on the doorstep of the Poison Parlor later that same night. 
“Cockroaches?”
“Cockroaches.”
He’s laughing as he lets you inside. There are a couple of late night customers and you can hear the buzzing of tattoo guns as Sweet Pea walks you through the parlor and up the stairs.
You’re making yourself comfortable on the pull out couch when he turns to go back downstairs, but you stop him, “H-Hey, Sweet Pea?”
“Hm?” he looks over his shoulder to acknowledge you.
Your whole face goes beet red, but you stand to your full height and say it anyway, “I-uh, I want you to teach me how to defend myself.”
There’s a silence that hangs in the room and you wonder for a moment if he thinks you’re crazy. Of course he wouldn’t train a weakling Northsider like you, even if your shop was Switzerland for his Southside buddies. What the Ghoulies had done, you couldn’t have stopped anyway.
“L-Listen, I just, I want to be able to stand up for myself. It’s not like I can stop a crashing car, but I can punch a guy in the gut or keep myself from getting snatched off the street,” you start rambling, using your hands as you talk, your voice growing in octaves the longer he lets you speak.
“Hey,” Sweet Pea grasps you by the wrist, “I get it.”
There’s a mutual understanding that passes between the two of you, quiet but determined. He releases you and walks back down to the parlor, leaving you to get settled in. 
And that’s how it starts.
When your bookstore is back up and running six weeks later, you’re practically a boxing prodigy. Sweet Pea has taught you the simplest of moves, and you can catch him off guard every once and a while. He has the crooked nose to prove it.
The tension between the two of you has grown as well. He’s given you a small tattoo that you’ve been dreaming about since high school, and you’ve taught him words and jargon that he never dreamed could be real. You spend almost every waking moment of the day together, between training to grow stronger and smarter, the both of you have developed a routine.
The next time you spot a band of Ghoulies, you and Sweet Pea are helping to close up the tattoo parlor. You’re taking the trash out in the back alley, and when a snap resounds against the brick walls, your heart drops into your stomach.
You swallow the lump in your throat, toss the garbage into the bin, and turn, fists held tight at your sides.
A taunt passes your lips and then the Ghoulie on the right jumps towards you with a knife held tight in his grip. You spot his weak form and step downward, using his weight to roll him over your shoulders and toss him against the dumpster.
“What?” you laugh, “Scared now?”
The other lets out a grunt before slashing at you with a makeshift shank. He looks like a feral animal - teeth bared and knuckles white as saliva gathers at the corners of his mouth. You can’t help but roll your eyes at the dramatic gang member, but when he tries to kick you in the face, you grab his ankle and twist, sending him soaring over your shoulder to lay unconscious with his Ghoulie counterpart.
There’s a loud noise from inside the parlor and your mind starts racing - Sweet Pea. Sure, he’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but your heart still picks up the pace as you run toward the door.
He’s got two on either side of him, and another set of three in the back rummaging through the money drawer and supplies. You grab the nearest thing to you, a case of ink, and throw it against the back counter. It pegs one of the Ghoulies in the head, the other two turning their attention to you now.
“Th-They’re on something!” Sweet Pea shouts even though his throat is currently in the grasp of one of the brawnier Ghoulies. You laugh, shaking your head as the two from behind the counter charge at you, “You don’t say?”
Sweet Pea shoots you a glare and you barely have time to shrug before you’re back in attack mode - focused on the two grown men in front of you. Their weight and their obvious lack of focus is something you can prey on, just as you did the two in the alley.
“So, do I get a raise or something?” you call between punches, landing a kick into one of their chests. Sweet Pea now has one of them in a headlock, the other crumpled against the wall, twitching as he tries to stand back up.
“Funny, I didn’t know I paid you,” he grunts, dropping the bulky guy to the ground once he stops struggling.
You stumble backward, but he catches you, “You don’t.”
“Maybe I should start.”
The duality of the phrase makes your spine shiver, but you’re back to action before you can contemplate how much you want to kiss him. You get a good, solid punch into one of their faces, turning to hit the other in the sternum.
“Finally putting those lessons to good use!” Sweet Pea winks at you from across the room where he’s got the Ghoulie held up by the throat on the wall.
Him holding someone by the throat, blood on his nose and knuckles, should not turn you on the way that it does. Either way, it makes you smirk. Your attention falters just long enough for the smaller of the two Ghoulies to land a punch to your jaw.
You seethe in pain, gripping at your face as you stumble backward. All you can see now is red, blinding rage like a filter in your vision. You dig your fingernails into your fists so hard you think you’ve drawn blood, “Oh, that does it.”
They swing at you again, both moving sloppily as whatever drug that has tainted their system begins to wear off. You fight them both off until you hear Sweet Pea stalk across the room, his combat boots making noise as he stomps towards you.
“Did good,” he grunts, grabbing one of them by the arm to yank them away from you, dealing with him on his own. Sweet Pea struggles, taking a shot to the eye, but you make eye contact with him just as you say, “I had a good teacher.”
You swear you see a smile on his face, but you can’t pay him much mind as the Ghoulie tries to stab at you with the pocket knife they’re holding. You slam their wrist against the tattoo table, the knife clattering to the ground a few feet away.
Now both goons are crawling on the floor, and you take a step toward Sweet Pea with adrenaline pumping through your veins, “Do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?”
“Hell yeah,” he manages to get the words out before pulling you to him for a harsh kiss. His hands are on your waist and your palms find purchase against his flannel.
You feel a feeble arm wrap around your ankle and you snap your knee forward to kick him in the face, eliciting a moan from the perpetrator. Sweet Pea’s palm drifts to your jeans, tucking into your pocket to anchor you to him for just a moment longer.
“You call, I’ll tie,” he pants as he pulls away, the high wearing off as he looks into your eyes. “Sound good?”
You nod, releasing your death grip on his shirt, “There’s two more in the alley.”
The shining admiration in his eyes does little to quell the churning of your stomach and you find yourself wanting to tackle him right here and now. Instead, you turn and head towards the parlor phone, not missing the gentle tap he gives your backside as you walk away.
“Sheriff Jones? Yeah, it’s me again…”
-
a/n: i hope that was enough flirting under fire! 
taggin: @the-gargoyle-queen @theangriestpea @sweets-rivervixen @southsidearchive @cactiem 
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cynic-spirit · 3 years
Text
The Poem Series (22) La Belle Dame Sans Merci: A Ballad– John Wick
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ALL PREVIOUS PARTS
The following day, at very early in the morning Diana gets up. John is already up. Today they start their training in learning some moves to be able to defend herself. Diana thinks on what should she wear. John has been teasing her a lot this week and she also wants to tease right back. she settles on wearing her black sport shorts with a well fitting black sports bra, baring her torso. She ties her hair in a Dutch braid. With socks and sports shoes she saunters towards the lawn where John is waiting for her. She knows by now that John is trained in multiple forms of fighting, boxing, karate, Krav Maga, Tae Kwon Do, wrestling, Jiu Jitsu and maybe a few more. He is well versed with weapons but they will not be using those today. Diana knows that they will definitely be starting with something simple.
When Diana reaches the open law, she sees John in a different kind of outfit. Narrower lowers and fitted shirt. John stares at her from head to toe and back up, he licks his lips.
“Schatje, we are here to learn”
Diana puts her hands on her hips and says
“and…?”
“and this.. is distracting”
“well, not my problem” Diana says with smugness, completely knowing the effect she has on John.
“All right then…Dont blame me” John smirks John then indicates her to stand in front of him and begins.
“Now you should know that you haven’t done this before. So I will start with something simple and basic. We will be learning a little bit of everything, kind of mixed martial arts”
“….ummm hmmm…”
“Now there are some basic moves that I think is a must for you to know”
John starts with warm ups. They do a lap, some push ups, some jumping jacks and some other cardio. And in fifteen minutes, Diana is panting and sweating.
“This was the warm up?!!!!”
“Yes. Now that you have the blood running, let me tell you some basics. You need to focus on vulnerable areas: eyes, nose, throat, and groin. Don’t aim for the chest, as that tends to be ineffective. Aiming for the knees requires a specific kick that can be too risky for the average person. Use all of your force and aggression during execution. Make it known that you’re a powerful woman, apart from being really sexy and hot” And John circles around her and smacks her ass. Diana gapes and glares but John continues nonchalantly like nothing has happened.
“Use your voice, too. Be loud to intimidate the attacker and create attention in case somebody is nearby.”
“Yes, Mr. Wick” Diana Says with a wink.
“Be serious”
“yes Mr Wick” Diana says more somberly earning an eye roll from John.
“The first is the hammer strike. Using your car keys is one of the easiest ways to defend yourself. Don’t use your fingernails, because you’re more at risk to injure your hands. Instead, if you feel unsafe while walking at night, have your keys stick out from one side of your fist for hammer strikes. Another way to use your keys is to click them onto a lanyard to swing at your attacker. Here, Hold your key ring in a tight fist, like holding a hammer, with keys extending from the side of your hand and then thrust downward toward your target…..Go on try it…”
Diana tries,
“No…not like that..  like this” John fixes her stance.
“Yes…. that’s how you do it…now try to attack me with it…”
Diana does it. Obviously John dodges but she earns his kudos.
“Good girl… yes I moved, and we will practice some dodging moves too.. but you did well girl…”
Diana feels her face flushed at the appreciation. She seems to want more of it.
“You are bare fisted now, when you put the keys between your fingers, the impact is more”
“Right….Wao this feels amazing”
“It’s the beginning sweetheart..” John leans and pecks on her lips. John makes her practice the move for a lot more times till she is perfect… “okay.. you are now Ready for the next”
John is almost elated to teach his woman fighting skills. He hopes she never needs it but also finds it incredibly hot that now his woman is like a sweetness mixed with a little hurricane. Her hair was long, her foot was light, And her eyes were wild. Not to mention the shorts that have out her perfect round ass on display. Oh! how he wants to bite and mark all over her ass, spank it raw, and then kiss and lick it all better and do the whole thing again and again. He finds himself harden at the thought but this is not the time.
“All Right Love, the next move is the elbow strike. If your attacker is in close range and you’re unable to get enough momentum to throw a strong punch or kick, use your elbows. This is how you do it. If you can, stabilize yourself with a strong core and legs to ensure a powerful blow. Bend your arm at the elbow, shift your weight forward, and strike your elbow into your attacker’s neck, jawline, chin, or temple. These are all effective targets. This may cause your attacker to loosen their grip, allowing you to run. Try it”
Diana tries it and in a few tries she is doing it better.”Keep doing it” She hears John command as he circles behind her. Suddenly she feels John’s hands on her ass.
“Now there is the next move, and it may sound odd to you, but it is when someone comes from behind and grabs you.” John slowly touches her bare sweat covered waist with one hand and moves his other hand to her ass. He gives her a tight squeeze while holding her tightly with his other hand. He kisses her shoulder from behind and nips on her neck and he gropes and rubs her ass. He continues to say,
“This is for cases where the attacker is coming from behind, you’ll want to use this move. Focus on getting low and creating space to free yourself, currently, as you can see there is no space between us” Diana can feel John’s bulge behind her. She swallows breathlessly.
“So how do I free myself from this back attack.?”
“as much as it pains me to teach you this, here, Bend forward from this sexy little waist of yours.” John squeezes the torso. “Doing this, shifts your weight forward, making it more difficult for your attacker to pick you up, like this” John picks up Diana, making her squeal, and then he immediately puts her back in their original position. “So, you need to bend forward, and stick this round, firm, perfect bottom out. It also gives you a better angle to throw elbows from side to side to the attacker’s face. Now, Turn into the attacker with one of your elbows and continue counterattacking. This should give you space to turn fully, using another move to injure the face or strike the groin. With the space these moves have created, you may be able to escape and run away.”
“You are really enjoying this aren’t you John?”
“Well, I get to play the attacker to the sexiest victim ever, so ..yes”
Diana Scoffs. “I thought we are being serious”
“that was before I saw you learning so quick. Hot professor who plays violin and now about to learn kicking ass..? You are simply irresistible”
To this Diana smirks.
“I have a good teacher”
“Toche”
“Now Attack me John”
“Gladly”
Diana and John practice for two more hours after that. It was Sunday after all. On weekdays John would teach her in the evening. John was able to teach her, some other moves like the heel palm strike, the groin kick, escape from headlocks, some alternative variations of hammer strikes and elbow strikes. Overall, Diana was a panting sweating mess once they finished. She simply laid on the lawn.
“How are you still standing John?”
“Someone is tired”
“Really? Thanks for noticing.”
“Is that how you let your students talk to you?”
“John, if I could lift my hand, I’d hit you, and I even know how now”
John rumbles a laugh. “Lets get you in.“  and with that John picks her up and gets her into the house. Diana realized something. Her old boyfriend, had abused and hit her. She felt so unworthy and useless with him around, but here was John. There was not a single moment that John her made her feel unvalued and unimportant. More than that, she felt empowered and strong. John wanted her to be independent, fierce, and free and not live under any fear. Diana was John’s equal and he was making sure that she feels the same. It was true after all, real men empower women, they respect and cherish women. John was a real man.
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stratus-skye07 · 4 years
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Suga Craze [Two] | Suga
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[Masterlist] [One]
The following morning, I got up to get my prescription filled. The lady told me it would take a few minutes so I walked next door to the convenient store. Having this sudden craving for sweets I grab a few chocolate bars. I head towards the cashier when I get sidetracked by one of the aisles.
It was the aisle that sold the condoms and lubricates which got me thinking about last night with Yoongi. Our sex life has increased since getting to spend more relaxing time together in Hawaii. I'm not sure if this is what people would call the honeymoon stage or not but I want us to be as happy as we are now in the future whether or not business gets in the way.
Going down the rows I stop in front of the pregnancy tests. My heart begins to swell when the thought of taking the test with Yoongi waiting with me.  That moment when the strip tells you the good news and the planning begins. One moment that will be years down the line.
I'm taken out of my thoughts when a hand grips my shoulder. I turn quickly to face the owner of the hand when all the blood drains from my body.
The tall figure smiles at me, "Hello Y/N, did you miss me?"
My knees begin to go stiff. I try to back away but end up losing the movement in my joints which causes me to fall back-first to the ground. With whatever strength I had I pulled myself away from the man who looks like Hyung-Sik or is but he can't be alive.
I back away into the legs of another person, "Young lady, are you okay?" I looked up at the elderly man that had just come out from the back room.
"That man," I look back, pointing at an empty aisle.
"What man?" He asks.
Once I got myself together I left the store, got my prescription, and went straight home. My dad is coming to visit today so I had to recollect myself. I had dinner to make for the three of us to talk. I decided to keep the incident to myself so as to not worry Yoongi. 
"Honey," Yoongi places his hand on my wrist, "are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just spacing out about something." I make up.
After clearing the table my dad and Yoongi continue to talk about business related things as I wash the dishes.
"Y/N, can you come join us for a moment?" My dad calls out to me.
I sat beside Yoongi, "Dad, you know I’m not interested in the mafia work."
He shakes his head, "No, no, this isn't about business. I wanted to talk to you two about your family situation."
Oh no. The last time it was a family situation was when he told me I was going to marry Yoongi. I can only imagine what this talk is going to be about. I hope it’s not a concubine situation.
He raises his arms towards us, "You two have really grown beautifully. You've protected each other and grown to love each other in this short amount of time. I think that it may be time to expand the family legacy."
Yoongi nearly chokes on the glass of wine he was drinking, "Expand? You mean having kids?" He asks for clarification.
I chuckle nervously, "Dad, I think it's a little early to be talking about babies."
"Nonsense, your mother and I had you as soon as we got married and we would’ve had more if she hadn’t passed away. Considering what you two have been through and things have settled down, I say there's no time then now to start trying for one."
Yoongi chuckles, "As grateful as we are for your complete support, Y/N and I would like to wait a little more before coming to that kind of decision because to be honest, I'd like to be a little greedy and keep Y/N to myself."
My dad chuckles, "I'm happy to hear that but don't make me wait too long, I am getting old. I hate to admit it but it’s true."
I walked with my dad down to his car while Yoongi excused himself to speak with RM in his office. I kept thinking about what happened earlier today that I had to know if what I was seeing was real or just my subconscious.
I turn to my dad, "Hey dad, can I ask you something?"
"Sure, sweetie." He looks at me with worried eyes.
"You've killed a lot of people over the years. Have you ever seen those faces haunt you?" It’s not exactly something I’d ever wanted to know from my dad but considering what’s been happening to me I have to be sure.
He sighs before gripping my shoulders, "Yes. I see those innocent and not so innocent lives I took every day. I killed to get to where I am now. I regret most of them especially after I had you and lost your mother, the realization of someone killing your loved one started to take a toll on me, but why the sudden question?"
"I don't want to worry Yoongi but I've been seeing Hyung-Sik. I'm starting to wonder if maybe the guilt of killing someone has gotten to me."
He shakes his head, "You didn't kill him."
"I know, but I was the reason for all this."
"Honey, you shouldn't feel that way since you killed to protect. The way I see it, if you hadn't killed Hyung-Sik someone else would've or worse, he would have killed you and Yoongi. You have nothing to feel guilty about." He reassures me with a kiss on the forehead.
“Call me paranoid but I’ve been having these feelings, like there’s a storm coming our way that we don’t know about yet.”
My dad nods, “I’ve been having it too. Don’t worry yourself too much. Yoongi will protect you and I’ll search around. If something comes up don’t be afraid to come by the house to talk to me.”
“Thanks dad.”
A little while after my dad left, I decided to blow off some steam in the training room with Jimin. The room was huge with mirrors up against one wall like a dance studio. It was a room where the Bangtan members train to keep in shape.
Jimin held the padded glove up as I threw punches in whatever direction he moved them in. Since saving Jimin from bleeding to death, he’s been almost like my personal bodyguard. He’s my second pair of eyes. I appreciate his loyalty.
“Whoa noona, your hits have gotten sharper.” He says with raised eyebrows.
I shrug, “Yeah, well I’ve never practiced like this before. I only knew how to fight just for the occasion that I had to defend myself, which was rarely needed.”
“Do you think you’ll need to again?” He asks hesitantly.
I stop swinging for a moment to take a breath, “I don’t know but it’s better to be safe than sorry. I almost got killed because I couldn’t keep up with Hyung-Sik.”
“Technically, you almost got killed because I shot you.” He says adding a hint of sarcasm.
I nod, “True, but you wouldn’t have had to shoot me if I’d taken him down sooner. Not that I’m complaining but sometimes I wonder if I’d done something differently Yoongi wouldn’t have gotten taken.”
“You can’t expect the unexpected. You did what you could and you faced it head on. Don’t think that any of this is your fault. It’s because of you that Suga is still alive.”
“Okay, you're right, enough talking.”
A part of our training sessions would be to spar. I know how to defend myself but since going to medical school I’ve felt that I lost some of the speed that I had when I practiced Jujitsu. I’d usually do it with Yoongi but he’s been pretty busy lately so I’ve been continuing my training with Jimin.
Jimin starts to throw punches at me, I manage to dodge every one. The last punch, I grab his arm to flip him over my shoulder in an attempt to put him in an armbar but he manages to counter by sliding out of the hold to pin me down.
“You’re getting slower, noona.” He teases.
I sarcastically chuckle. While he’s laughing, I quickly grab a handful of his shirt and lift my hips to reverse the positioning so that I’m pinning Jimin down.
“Is that slow enough for you?”
Suddenly, our attention is drawn towards the door where Yoongi is leaning against the door clapping his hands from the sight before him. 
I rise to my feet and help Jimin up as Yoongi enters the room, “Jimin, you’re dismissed.” He says with a stern tone.
Jimin had a look of hesitance to leave but I pat him on the shoulder, “Maybe next time you’ll get me, Jimin.”
He smiles at me before leaving the room.
I look back at Yoongi, “So you finally have some free time to train with me?”  I interlock my hands with his and pull his arms behind his back so that I’m hugging his waist.
Yoongi smirks before giving me a peck on the lips, “If you were going to train, you could’ve told me.”
“I know, but you’ve been busy with deals that I didn’t want to stop you from getting your work done.”
“So you decide to get your training in with Jimin?” I can sense the hint of jealousy peeking out of his words.
“I mean if you’re that upset about it then…” I quickly maneuver myself under his arm so that I’m able to put his arm behind his back, “…why don’t you make up for it?”
“Alright, but you asked for it.”
Yoongi manages to use his other arm free. He spins so that my head is now under his arm in a headlock. I can feel his hand trail down my back until he reaches my ass. He gives me a hard smack on the cheek.
“Ow,” I swipe his foot from under him.
I manage to get on top of him and throw my rounds of punches. He blocks them until he grabs my forearm and shifts his weight over so that he was now on top of me. I hold him tight in between my legs as he pins me down by my throat but doesn’t apply pressure.
He kisses my cheek then chuckles, “You’re slacking.” I simply smirk. 
I counter his hold by placing my hands on his face and shove him far enough to where he has to release the hold to push my hands away, giving me the chance to reach up and put him in a sleeper hold. With his strength, Yoongi lifted me up but I still managed to keep my hold. I’m beginning to feel his body slow down but he still holds me up.
Finally, he taps out.
I release the hold and drop down to my feet. Yoongi’s face was red from the lack of oxygen that he was getting. No doubt if he was a little more stubborn he wouldn’t have given in so soon.
“I gave you that one.” He says in between taking deep breaths.
I scoffed walking towards a bench where I had placed my water bottle, “I could beat your ass so bad that your great grandkids would feel the shame.”
There was a long silence before Yoongi started up the following conversation, “Do you ever think about it?” He asks.
I finish taking a sip of water, “What kicking your ass that bad?”
He ruffled his damp hair, “Having kids.”
The sudden question catches me off guard as I look him in the eyes through the reflection in the mirror, “Do you?”
Yoongi rises from his position to approach me from behind, “Yes.”
“Do you want to have kids?” I ask in a matter of curiosity.
“With you,” his arms wrap around me, “very much.”
“Then why did you tell dad that you wanted to wait?”
“You seemed very hesitant to say yes. I didn’t want your father to pressure you in any way. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be prepared to take care of you and our child.” He says kissing behind my ear.
My heart skips a beat at how emotional he sounds confessing his feelings of starting a family. We never talked about the idea. I assumed it was something that never interested him but deep down he truly wants it. It’s something I want just as much but also fear.
I turn to face him and wrap my hands around his neck to pull him down to kiss him. 
He smirks down at me with those familiar eyes, “Until then, we have plenty of time to practice.” Suddenly Yoongi’s body began to lean into mine until my back was pushed up against the mirror. 
I bite my bottom lip as Yoongi’s lips begin to travel down my jaw until he reaches the collar of my sports jacket. Slowly, he begins to pull the zipper down to reveal the sports bra I had been wearing. His fingertips tingled over my skin as he slid the jacket down my arms to hit the floor.
Yoongi continues to venture down my chest, leaving trails of kisses down my abdomen until he reaches the waistband of my yoga pants. His long fingers sliding in to pull them, along with my underwear, down my thighs.
I gasp, “Yoongi, what if someone walks in?”
“Then I’ll have to kill them.”
I use Yoongi’s shoulder to balance myself as I take my feet out of my pants. Yoongi’s hot breath was at my entrance but instead he began to kiss and lick both of my hip bones, leaving behind markings.
He goes back and forth until he finally comes to the part of my body that’s been craving for his mouth’s attention. 
His tongue stroked up my slit until he gave my clit it’s fair amount of attention. I bite my lip to suppress a moan. My hands run through his hair in a frantic way as his tongue causes my legs to shake.
“Yoongi,” I say his name in a pleading tone, “wouldn’t it better to continue this in the bedroom?” I barely get the sentence out.
Yoongi rises with a smirk on his face, “Why? We’ve already started. There’s no point in stopping while it’s getting hot.”
I chuckle,  “First the car and now the training room, are you trying to see how many places we can fuck or are you just horny at the wrong time?”
[Three]
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strangest-loser · 4 years
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Twilight Rewrite
Fire in my Blood ~ Jasper Hale x OC ~ Book One: Chapter Two
Chapter One
There weren't very many rules in the Swan household, and they weren't just set by Charlie, his main rule: Alessia couldn't have boys over in her bedroom, if Jacob, Quill and Embry were coming over they had to stay in the living room or the kitchen, but it was very rare that they hung out at her home anyway, they spent most of their time on the reserve.
Alessia's main rule: if Charlie got caught up at work or an emergency happened past 8pm he had to let her know he was safe so she didn't worry herself into a heart attack. That rule was established after one night when Alessia was 15 and Charlie had an animal attack emergency and didn't get home till 2am. Alessia didn't know where he was and when he came home he found her in the corner of the kitchen having a panic attack and ended up making herself sick. He never forgot that rule.
But the rule that was established by the both of them and arguably the most important rule of all: if the song was released after 1990 ... It couldn't be played in the car ever!
~' Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night and Wouldn't you love to love her?
Takes to the sky like a bird in flight and
Who will be her lover? '~
"you did not just say that to me!", came Alessia's outraged voice overlapping the velvety vocals of Stevie Nicks coming from the cruisers radio, Fleetwood Mac's 'Rhiannon' playing through the car as Alessia debated her father, "what you just said is absolute blasphemy, take it back!".
"I won't take it back, I meant what I said, 'don't stop' is the superior Fleetwood Mac song!". Came Charlie's retort as he pulled off the highway towards the airport.
"okay first of all, 'don't stop' isn't superior, the layout, 'Landslide' is their best, then 'Rhiannon', then 'Gypsy', then maybe 'don't stop'." Alessia said, leaving no room for Charlie to argue as he just gave her a look that said `we will finish this later.`
They pulled into the parking lot of William R Fairchild International Airport in Port Angeles just in time for the song to end and Alessia reached forward to change the CD. Fleetwood Mac was swapped out for The Foundations as the opening of 'Build me up Buttercup' flowed into her ears. A laugh was pulled out of Charlie as he and his daughter sang along while looking for a parking spot.
Leaning against the car as she watched her dad walk into the building to get to Bella's gate, Alessia let her nerves begin to creep back into her mind. Would Bella still be kind? Would she like her room? Would their relationship ever go back to the way it was when they were younger? Did Alessia even want that? Shaking those thoughts out of her head she felt an itching sensation in the back of her head, like someone was watching her. She looked behind her to the tree line and let her eyes focus. There was nothing there, maybe she was imagining it.
Her attention was brought back to her father walking back to the car with a suitcase in his hand and with a brunette following behind him. Alessia took this time to really look at her sister.
Bella looked like she was a little bit shorter than her. Her hair was around collarbone length while Alessia's was long, reaching the middle of her back when it was down, Bella's held a wavy curl in it while Alessia's was poker straight, the only similarity they shared was the colour, like chocolate. Bella wore comfy jeans and a shirt, a contrast to the blue and gold that was Alessia's cheerleading uniform. And funnily enough Alessia's skin held a richer tone than Bella's own pale skin, but not much.
Their eyes met and Alessia offered a soft smile to the girl she hadn't seen in four years. Her smile was returned but it didn't really reach Bella's eyes. This would take some time.
Pulling into the driveway concluded probably one of the most awkward car rides of Alessia's life. As soon as the engine cut out Alessia sprung out of the passenger seat and raced to unlock the door. After setting her keys down on the kitchen table she turned to see her father and Bella walk through the front door. "Want me to get started on dinner dad?" She asked already moving to the fridge. " I was thinking we should have a diner night tonight Al".
Alessia's mouth watered at the thought of her favourite desert at the diner, Cora's famous apple crisp with ice cream, after the weird day she had today, nothing sounded better than something familiar. "Sounds like a plan" she replies following them up the stairs to stand in the doorway of Bella's room "I tried not to decorate in here too much because I didn't know what you liked" Alessia explained looking around the room she had prepared for Bella. "No it's great, thanks Alessia" came the younger girls reply.
"ok well I'll be in my room if you need anything, dad, call me when we're leaving for food". Alessia took her leave and walked into the safehaven that was her bedroom. She adored her room. Her double bed had a homemade quilt that Leah and her grandmother had made for her 16th birthday and a bunch of pillows on top of a white bedspread. The walls were lined with photos of her friends going back through the years up until the most recent which stood on her dresser in a frame. It was taken two weeks ago in front of Emmet's jeep, Alessia and Alice were sitting on the hood laughing at each other while Emmet was staring at Rosalie with pure devotion written on his features and Jasper stood next to Alice, Edward had taken the picture. Her ceiling was covered in fairy lights and those glow in the dark stars that she put up when she was 8 which still helped her sleep at night (her most kept secret) and her desk housed her homework and her printer, next to her desk sat her bay window with a window seat that held more pillows and another blanket. The last thing that stood in her room was her bookshelf that held half fiction books and half historical books, all of which were well loved, with dog-eared and yellowed pages (her copy of 'Pride and Prejudice' was falling apart and stained with tea but she still managed to read it countless times).
Setting her backpack on her desk chair she walked over to her dresser and picked up the picture, observing it once more. It was the coldest day of February and everyone was wrapped up in coats and hats. Alice was holding Alessia's gloves hostage above her head and trying not to fall off the hood of the jeep. Rosalie was wearing her signature necklace and a pretty ring on her index finger and seemed to be engrossed in whatever Emmet was telling her. And Jasper... Alessia stopped in her tracks as she looked at the picture, Jasper was looking at her... How had she never noticed that before.
Her confusion was interrupted by a car pulling into her driveway, she set the framed picture back before walking over to the window and looking out only to see a very familiar black car pull up. An excited smile spread on her face like wildfire as she booked it out of her room and down the stairs, opening the door and running to jump on Jacob Black. "You didn't tell me you were coming! I would have planned something dastardly" she said while giggling as her best friend spun her around before setting her down and giving her his meanest look. "Absolutely not, you have gotten me grounded way too many times and it's never worth it" he said pulling her into a loving headlock while she whined and tried to escape. Once he let her go Alessia whipped her head around and her mischievous face caused Jacob so smile in a similar way. "Want to see what kind of trouble we can get into?" She asked poking him in the stomach, "oh god, we're going to die aren't we?", His response prompted a punch in the shoulder. "It's a Tuesday, I know how to restrain myself" Alessia replied like Jacob had just offended her greatly. The voice of Billy Black then came from over her shoulder, "you absolutely do not!".
Alessia zoned out as she felt that itching feeling coming from the woods again, looking out into the trees she still couldn't see anything out there, this was starting to freak her out. Her mind focused back in on her dad telling Bella that the old orange truck in front of them was her welcome home gift. This sparked a sickly feeling in Alessia's stomach, Alessia had been working her ass off doing odd shifts at the diner and even occasionally assisting Doctor Cullen at the hospital when he had patients but he needed his office sorted through and cleared up, all to save up for a car that she has needed for the past 3 years, and her sister shows up and just gets one handed to her.
Alessia stops her own train of thought there and banishes the jealousy in her mind. Jealousy was an ugly emotion that she hated seeing and hated feeling even more. Charlie hadn't seen Bella since she was 13, it made sense that he would want to spoil her.
The diner was reletively full for a Tuesday evening but it wasn't overcrowded, the atmosphere was nice, and Alessia thought that was why she liked it so much. It really felt like a friendly family restaurant. The dinner went by without much conversation other than sporadic conversations between Alessia and her dad about work and school.
"I normally get a ride to school Bella so you just need to worry about driving yourself there" Alessia said with a smile after finishing her lemonade. The conversation drew to a close when Cora came out from the kitchen with a tray of dessert, two berry cobblers and one apple crisp.
"Al, sweetheart, I've got a shift for you tomorrow evening if you are up for it, Sarah is attending a wedding" Cora told her with a kind smile. Alessia nodded through a mouthful of sweet, warm apple and Cora laughed walking away to put her name on the schedule. Bella's eyes looked up from her plate to meet her sisters, "you work here?"
"sometimes, I just do the odd shift because I don't want to get a proper job till after school, but I've gotta buy a car. Sometimes I work down at the hospital too which should help me with getting into medschool". The only thing that Alessia loved more than apple crisp was helping people.
After that eventful day drew to a close Alessia was finishing up some history homework when she thought back to her class today and how weird it was, she couldn't recall anything from the lesson but her conversation with jasper was playing on repeat in her head. He had never really spoken to her in the entire year and a bit that they were in the same class and group, but today not only did he have a full conversation with Alessia, he had started it. She thought back to the photograph on her dresser and how Jasper's eyes were very clearly trained on her face as she laughed with his sister.
This whole situation was very strange indeed.
Watching as Bella pulled into the parking lot the next morning, Alessia bid Alice goodbye and started walking towards the orange pickup parked in front of Tyler's van. "Hey Bells", Bella turned at the sound of her older sister's voice and a look of relief crossed her face at the familiar face approaching her. "I have no idea where I'm going, can you take me to the office, I have paperwork to finish", came the younger's quiet voice. Alessia shot her a small smile, she could imagine that this was nerve-wracking for Bella. She linked arms with her sister and started walking towards the building at the top of the lot.
Their quiet talking let them have time to catch up, Bella told Alessia about life in Phoenix and informed her sister that she brought her a tiny cactus that matched her own. By the time they reached the office doors they were laughing like they did when they were younger and their bond felt just a little bit stronger. "You know I missed you Bells" Alessia's voice grew softer as she looked towards the floor, for a confident girl she was never the best at eye contact when expressing her emotions. She was just about to panic at the silence that met her words until she felt her arms wrap around her waist in a tight hug, "I missed you too".
And so the next few days carried in like that, Alessia would get in the car with Rosalie, Alice and occasionally Edward, she would sit with them for lunch (catching her baby sister not-so-subtly stare at Edward, and watching him stare back), and Jasper sat next to her in every history class that week. It wasn't until Friday that things got strange.
"Honestly Bella don't worry about Edward he is so dramatic", rang out from Alessia sitting on the hood of the truck while trying to read 'Interview with a Vampire' for the millionth time in her life. Hearing Bella grumble under her breath is what made her jump off the hood and stand beside her. Their back and forth banter had Alessia standing at the bed of the truck with her back to the lot. She didn't notice it until it was too late.
Tyler's tires screeched against the ice that littered the ground and his car spun out of control. Alessia didn't comprehend what was happening until she felt a force push her out of the way making her fall and knock her lights out when her head hit the ground.
Waking up in the hospital was only something Alessia was known for once which meant that waking up with a splitting headache with Dr Cullens extremely handsome face looking down on her was thoroughly confusing for the poor girl. “did I fall asleep during my shift?”, her slurred words made the man in front of her laugh lightly before writing something on his clipboard. “No Alessia, there was an accident at the school, a van crashed into the side of Bella’s truck and you fell over and hit your head on the bed of the truck on your way down, you have concussion, everyone else is just fine”. The throbbing in her head grew worse at the words ‘hit your head’ and Alessia began to fight against the blanket that the nurse beside her was trying to wrap around her. 
“Carlisle you are gonna have to walk me through that again, my ears feel like cotton” the brunette muttered at the man as he shined a tiny light into her eyes. She was still fighting against the nurses blanket which prompted Carlisle to dismiss the nurse entirely. 
“Why do people keep trying to put this blanket on me ?”
“Because you’re in shock”
“That doesn’t mean I need a blanket. It means I need booze”.
The laugh that rang through the room didn’t come from Carlisle that time but from the opening door as the rest of the Cullen bunch came through the doors of her room. Esme, someone that Alessia considered a mother, came to her bedside and hugged the girl before Alice climbed into the bed with her and began petting her head. The rhythmic movements of the girls cool hand felt heavenly to Alessia’s poor throbbing head and she completely checked out of the conversation happening around her to lean into the younger girls touch. “you guys can afford so much expensive stuff but you cant afford blood circulation” she joked which prompted Rosalie to hit her shoulder lightly “Alessia, you are so loopy right now”. 
Her eyes drifted towards the door where a lone figure stood, Jasper’s shoulders were stiff and he looked like he would rather be anywhere else but there at that moment. This caused Alessia to deflate slightly but she quickly snapped herself out of that mentally, it didn’t have to mean anything about her.
Maybe the guy just didn’t like hospitals.
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comicgeekscomicgeek · 3 years
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Their Hero Academia – Chapter 78: Conversations and Revelations
Presenting the next installment of my on-going, nextgen, MHA fic! Earlier chapters can be found here
Katsumi was absolutely not tired.  And she was definitely not worn out and exhausted from pushing her body and her Quirk all day.  She was definitely not spent from using her explosive Quirk on bigger and bigger objects, infusing the liquid she generated into greater and greater objects.   And she really wasn’t already sick of Windbag and his high and mighty friends from his fancy-pants Hero school.  She absolutely wasn’t going to end up beating the shit out of the muscle girl by the end of things.  
Which, for some reason, Izzy had tried to warn her off of doing.  Izzy was typically very direct and this had been no exception.  She’d been extremely explicit that Katsumi stood a very good chance of getting her ass beat if she tried to fight her.  Of course, Izzy had couched it in slightly politer terms, worrying that she might get hurt and emphasizing the damage to her pride if she lost.  Izzy, of course, had expressed every confidence in her abilities, but still didn’t want her to get hurt.
Even with Izzy’s direction suggestion that she not fight the Shiketsu girl, there was something more going on there.  Katsumi didn’t like that, not at all.  And Izzy hadn’t been more forthcoming beyond that.  
It wasn’t damn frustrating, not at all.
As if she’d ever lose a fight.  Not counting her hard-fought loss against Izzy during the Sports Festival.  Which wasn’t going to happen the next time.  The bigger they were, the harder they were going to fall.
At least her old man seemed happy.  Dad was always happy when he was yelling at people, and he’d gotten to do a lot of that today.  Apparently, he’d even lit into Toshi for being predictable and unimaginative with his Quirk.  Good.  It was about time someone tried pounding some sense into his green-haired head.  The guy was a damn good fighter when he put his mind to it, but there was considerable distance in how he fought with his Quirk and without it.
“Okay people,” she heard Katsuma—Bioshock, she had think of him and Mahoro by their Hero names when they were in teacher mode—call out.  “You’ve all had a long day and tomorrow’s going to be even longer.  You’ll be rising at 0500 and we’re going to be spending the whole day putting you through your paces.”
“And we aren’t going to listen to any whining about you being tired!” Mahoro—Vanish Veil—added.  “So if you’re sluggish, it’ll be your own damn fault!”
Bioshock sighed.  “Thank you for that,” he said.
“You’re welcome.”
“But she is right!  You’ve got twenty minutes before lights out.  Make the most of them, then get a good night’s rest!  Sleep is vital to a growing body!”
“Stop talking like a health class video! Why are you such a dork?!”
Katsumi just shook her head, getting up to head to the barracks.   A voice from behind stopped her.
“Pardon me, but you and I have unfinished business.”
***
She’d been expecting, maybe even anticipating, a confrontation with Tatsuma, the overgrown Shiketsu girl.  So Katsumi hadn’t strictly been paying attention to who the voice had belonged to.  When she spun to face her attacker, her punch went high.  A good blow to the face or throat would disable most people very quickly.  
In fact, if she hadn't been so sure Tatsuma was going to be the one picking a fight, she'd have registered that the voice came from about a foot lower. As things were, her blow sailed right over Monoma’s head.  She’d given him a little credit though.  He only barely flinched.
A smug grin spread across his lips.  “Quite the hair trigger you’ve got there, Kirishima-Bakugo,” he said.  He eyed the extended arm as if to say, “Really?”  She let it fall to her side, then crossed her arms.
“You want something, Monoma?” she asked.  Of all the things she needed today, he was way down on the list.  He’d mostly been leaving her alone lately, but his audible smugness was more than making up for it.  “I’ve probably got enough time to deliver an ass-kicking if that’s what you’re looking for.”
He chuckled at that, gesturing dramatically.  "Oh I'll happily offer you the chance to try," he commented with a smirk, "but I don't think this is the time.  I do want to make time for your gauntlet throwing, though, at some point in the near future.”
“Delayed ass-kicking, got it,” she said.  She cracked her knuckles noisily in a show of intimidation.  This time, to his credit, he didn’t flinch.
He frowned, eyes narrowing as his shoulders relaxed.  “Look…  May I speak plainly?” 
She narrowed her own eyes, setting her mouth in a hard line.  “Get on with it.”
“I was… very broken, after the Sports Festival,” he told her.  There was an earnestness in his eyes that surprised her.  A raw level of emotion she hadn’t expected of him.  “I wanted to succeed so badly, to show you that I was worthy and to show the world that my class was worthy.  But I screwed it all up. I focused too much on showboating and spectacle.  Midoriya and the rest of your class… you had it figured out.”
He looked down.  “I gave as good an accounting of myself as could be expected against Kocho.  It was simply a bad match-up for my skillset.  And I am glad to see the Hero course recognized her abilities.”
Monoma pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes flickering downward and flashing a shade of displeasure before he continued.  “And then there was my failed confession.  I’m not sorry I did that—don’thitme—and I think you may have said some things I needed to hear, although your delivery may need some work.  And then, during my Internship with your father and Uncle Tetsutetsu… I froze up when the Nomu attacked.  My Quirk isn't something I can turn off, and... Everything I was seeing of the creature was just so profoundly wrong that I couldn't take it. I shut down.  I had to be carried away by Shoji, like a child.”
Okay, that one she hadn’t heard about.  Papa definitely hadn’t mentioned it.  Of course, gossip about anyone like that wouldn’t have been manly, so it was not a surprise.  
“And from there, I just fell apart,” Monoma said.  He wasn’t looking at her now.  Instead, he was looking into the distance.  “I can admit that now.  I was certain I had a weak, worthless Quirk and that I had no place in the Hero course.”
“Now wait just a damn minute,” she snapped, pointing aggressively at him.  “You’re a bastard, but your fancy pants flippy Quirk is still useful.  No reason you couldn’t kick a moderate amount of ass.”
Dammit, she was not feeling sorry for the Copycat Bastard.  But she remembered her own Internship, how useless she’d felt watching that man die right in front of her, while her Quirk, even her muscles, couldn’t do anything…   Aunt Ochaco and Izzy had talked her back from that edge.  She didn’t think about it too often.  Hadn’t had the nightmares in a while.
“I’ve come around to that line of thinking,” Monoma said.  “But I appreciate the vote of confidence.  Especially from you.  But I was ready to quit after the Final Exam.  Just long enough not to leave my class in the lurch.  But Midoriya said some things about success and helping each other that stuck with me.  And we passed.”
He stopped, actually smiling and looking more than a little proud.  She’d give him some credit.  If 1-B’s exam had been anywhere near as challenging as theirs—and Kana assured her it was—then he deserved a little pride.
“And then for reasons I’m still not entirely sure I understand, I ended up speaking with Kaminari and she got me looking at my Quirk in a bit of a different way.  Trying to string my moves together better, weaving a whole song out of them, rather than single shots to be fired and discarded.  So I stayed.”
“Is that why you’ve been making goo-goo eyes at her?”
He sputtered, turning red and avoiding her gaze.  “I thought we were being more discreet than that.”
“Oh, please.  Your dramatic ass wouldn’t know discreet if it bit it,” she told him.  She tapped her wrist, as though checking a watch, giving him a glare.  He got the hint.
“Regardless of mine and Kaminari’s situation,” he said, quickly, as though eager to move away from discussing it, “I want you to know I still want to prove myself against you.  Not for any romantic pursuits anymore or even in some attempt to prove I’m better than you.” 
Monoma shook his head.  “I want to prove I’m your equal.  That I deserve my place here.  You’re one of the fiercest, most skilled fighters in our school.  We’ve had an adversarial relationship since we were big enough for you to put me in a headlock.  You’re the mark I need to challenge myself against.”
Okay.  She definitely hadn’t been expecting that.  But for all she could erupt at a moment’s notice, Katsumi could occasionally control her expressions enough not to show surprise.  She knew she was tough and talented, but hearing him admit it, not in some kind of lovey-dovey star-eyed sort of way, but in actual respect, with none of his usual barbs, well, to say it was a surprise was putting it mildly.  
“So, what do you actually want?” she demanded.  “Get to the point already.”
Monoma looked her straight in the eye, a steely determination there she hadn’t seen before.  “When the camp is over, when we’re back at school, I want to fight a match against you.    A true test against one another. Bring whatever support items you like, and, as the challenged, the right to choose time and place is yours. I'll make the arrangements with our respective homeroom teachers that it will be a sanctioned training exercise. May the better person win."
It was a more respectful challenge than she would have expected out of him, all things considered.  It looked like Monoma had found his spine after all.  And besides, she could go for bouncing him around the ring like a basketball for a few rounds.  “You know what, Monoma?” she said.  “You’re on.”
***
Akaya had the distinct impression that she was being watched.  Not maliciously, she didn’t think.  She certainly didn’t feel like she was threatened, but she was also fairly certain that someone was paying more attention to her than usual.  Over in one corner of the room, she could see Kaminari, Mika, and Anime whispering together in a fashion that seemed almost conspiratorial.  
Her opinion of the matter did not improve when she saw Ojiro go over and join the group.  But even with counting several of the girls among that group as dear friends, she certain, somehow, that they were discussing her. She wasn’t completely unused to being talked about behind her back, the girl with the strange religion and stone-skin, but she would not have expected it of her friends.
“They’re talking about you.”
Akaya looked over to her left, where Chiasa Kamakiri, her vaguely mantis-like friend from 1-B, was standing by her bunk.  Chiasa held up a hand, showing that she was missing two joints from her smallest finger on her left hand. Her Quirk allowed her to split apart her body segments and transform them into tiny duplicates of herself that shared a hive mind.  Very useful for espionage.
Chiasa’s face split into a grin.  “Do you want to know what they’re saying?” she asked, playfully.  
“I do not traffic in gossip,” Akaya said simply, though she was also feeling a little hurt.  Why were her friends talking about her?  She didn’t think they had any ill intent, but…
Chiasa continued as though she hadn’t spoken.  “They’re trying to set you up with Aoyama!”  She giggled with delight, clapping her hands.
Ah, of course.  Their usual romantic pursuits.  She wasn’t surprised, especially now that Ojiro was involved.  The invisible girl was nothing if not committed to the idea of “shipping” people she knew.  It had only become worse since she and Anime had become friends.  Still, she hadn’t thought that Mika particularly liked Aoyama, so why was she…
Wait.
Akaya mentally replayed that sentence again.
“What?”
Chiasa nodded rapidly. “Mineta is leading the pack. Sounds like it might be her idea. They haven’t noticed my mini-me’s yet.”
She was clearly missing something here.  Akaya frowned in confusion.  “I must have heard you wrong.”
“Nope,” Chiasa said. “They’re gonna set you and Aoyama up. They don’t have a plan yet. Fukidashi and Ojiro are fighting over which tropes to use.  Mineta’s encouraging all of it.  Kaminari is telling them they’re all insane.”
None of this made any sense. Aoyama had certainly never displayed any kind of interest in her.  Oh, of course, he did seem far more civil with her than almost any of their other classmates.  And he never had any cross words for her like he did for almost anyone else.  So what if he always made an effort to speak to her? What difference did it make that he always seemed to respect her opinion, even if he didn’t listen to anyone else?  And, of course, he had reacted more violently than everyone else when he’d found out she’d been the target of Quirk discrimination…
But certainly none of that meant he was interested in her!  Not when he was traditionally good looking, prettier than even some of the other girls, and could have easily had his pick of anyone, if he’d just let his guard down around them the way he often did around her…
“Akaya?” Chiasa asked, mouthparts clicking together.  “You okay? You kind of zoned out on me while I was talking.”
She managed a nod. “I’m all right,” she said.  “Just taken by surprise.”  She looked over to a corner of the room that had been partitioned off with a curtain.  Petal Princess had told her that they’d set it up so that she could have a private place to pray, if she so desired, being unsure if she was comfortable praying in front of others.  Akaya appreciated the consideration.   “Though I do need to say my prayers before I turn in.”
It would give her a moment to think, at the very least.
***
As Akaya entered the small, privacy curtained space, she realized that it was already occupied. It was one of the Shiketsu girls, the one whom she had overhead a few times speaking to Tatsuma in a foriegn language that she couldn’t properly identify.  
“Oh,” she said, “my apologies.  I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”  Though it varied from individual to individual, the average person in Japan was not especially religious or deeply spiritual.  And the number of people who were any variety of Christian was smaller still.  
The girl though, seemed as surprised to see Akaya as Akaya was to see her.
"It is no trouble," the girl assured her, her Japanese flawless. "I was finishing up anyway." As she stood up, a necklace with a familiar cross could be seen hanging around the girl's neck.
Well, that was indeed surprising.  She had heard there had been some additional friction between some of the Shiketsu students and her classmates and the others.  Perhaps she could help ease that by finding some common ground with one of them?
“Please forgive my forwardness,” Akaya said.  “But you are Christian?  I rarely encounter anyone who shares a faith with me.”
That seemed to surprise the girl for a moment, before she looked at her necklace as if remembering it was there.
"My parents are practicing Presbyterians," she answered, somewhat shyly. "I would not go so far as to say I am, but there is much about Christianity I admire. It's comforting to know there's an all-powerful being that actually gives a damn about you out there."
“My mother’s family is Catholic,” Akaya explained, “as am I.”  Her father and little brother, Rikido, were not, but it had never been an issue in their family.  Both she and her brother had been allowed to explore faith options and choose for themselves.
“It is reassuring.  It is often a troubling world.  Having somewhere to turn to often helps me to ground myself.”  She offered the other girl a small smile.  “I am Akaya Koda.”
The other girl seemed to think a bit, as if wondering if she should say anything. Her face softened as she appeared to make a decision.  "My name is Seung Park. It is...nice to meet you." She tensed a bit after saying her name.
The same sounded Korean to Akaya’s ears, though she couldn’t say for certain.  Though Park was not Japanese, that much was apparent.  She knew that foreigners didn’t always have easy lives in Japan, but given how flawless her Japanese was, Park had to be at least second generation.  Which did come with its own issues, of course…
“It is nice to meet you as well,” she said.  “How are you finding the camp so far?”
"So far I do not see what can be done here that we can't do elsewhere," Park admitted with a stern frown. "I can only assume the teachers are likely going to make us do something to pit us against each other for some ‘clever’ reason. Why else would Shiketsu be invited, given the asinine rivalries that are encouraged."
“Not an impossibility,” Akaya agreed.  Park, it seemed, was not afraid to be a bit bold in her declarations. Would that she had such confidence. “But I have been told that the Rookies are among some of the best trainers in the country, so I trust in our teachers’ judgements. Perhaps they simply mean to push us all. A little bit of rivalry can be healthy… though there are those among my fellow students who take it to an extreme.”
Shiro, for example, had already declared that the rivalry between Class 1-A and 1-B was in a temporary state of truce, until they had proven U.A. to be better than Shiketsu. She wasn’t certain if that was a sign of maturity on his part or not, but at least he was trying to channel his energies in semi-positive directions.
"I have considerably more faith in Our Lord than I do in "Hero instructors.’" Park stopped, took a deep breath, said something in Korean, and then let it out. "I apologize. I am not as good a Christian as I would like to be."
There was a sore point there, Akaya was certain.  For a Hero student, Park did not seem to have much faith in Heroes themselves.  Or at least, not the ones running the camp, she wasn’t sure.  That seemed to be a bit of a paradox, but she did not wish to deny the truth of whatever experiences Park had lived.
She shook her head and held up her hands in an apologetic gesture.  “No apologies necessary.  Even if I don’t agree, I won’t deny you your feelings.”
Park looked surprised at Akaya's response. Clearly, she was not used to people giving her point of view any kind of credence. "I appreciate that." Her eyes seemed to be looking elsewhere, as if she were looking at a place completely different from where they were. She shook her head, actually forming a small smile. "I do not wish to hold up your talk with God. I hope you don't aggravate him as much as I likely do.”
Akaya offered the girl another smile as she left, before kneeling down to begin her own prayers. She would need much of His grace and guidance to get through this camp.
***
Takiyo tapped a few keys on the control panel built into his sleeping pod, causing the hatch to open with a slight hiss.  Inside, it looked comfortably padded and had a control panel built into the other side of the hatch as well, so that he could open it when needed.  It would be one hundred percent light proof.  It was good of the Rookies to provide it, though he would have expected nothing less.  U.A. had been very good at meeting his unique needs to far.  
His cursed, cursed needs. His damn Quirk that caused him to absorb light constantly, necessitating that he discharge it in regular intervals, that he keep himself covered to minimize absorption, that his dorm room and his room at home be equipped with blackout curtains and more.  It required him to be aware of his state of being every second he was awake.
His damn Quirk that had caused him too…
No.
His Quirk that he was going to use to be a Hero.  To make up for…  what had been done.  No matter the costs to him.  It was suited for it, where unleashing dazzling light, pushing back the darkness, or projecting devastating lasers.  He would make it a Hero’s Quirk.
He had actually exhausted his light-stores under the Rookies’ training today, focusing on both his output and control.  It was rare situation.  Usually, he had to purposefully discharge it by the end of the day, just for the sake of discharging it.  He had started to absorb more light immediately afterwards, but for the moment, he was just barely glowing, a faint sparkle outlining his skin.
“Ahem.”  A voice shook him from his introspection and he looked up to see Monoma standing next to the sleeping pod.
He’d barely spoken two words to Monoma that he could recall, in his entire time at U.A.  The other boy was vain, arrogant, obsessed with his looks, and not especially self-aware.  He was, somehow, friends with Koda, which confused Takiyo greatly. Mineta, he could understand, but he thought Koda was better than that.
“Yes?” Takiyo asked.
“<Can we speak French?>” Monoma asked.  Takiyo had been vaguely aware that the Monoma family had some French ancestry, much like his papa also did.  He himself was only culturally French to some extent, but the language came easily enough.  Monoma cast a significant glance over in the direction of Sero, Sato, and Tsuchikawa.
“Oui,” he replied.  The secrecy was puzzling, he had to admit.  What could be so important that Monoma did not want anyone overhearing?
Monoma nodded. “<Let’s be clear,>” he said, pointing.  “<I don’t like you and you don’t like me.  That’s fine.  But no one deserves what’s headed your way.”>
Takiyo raised an eyebrow at that.  “<Pardon?>” he asked.  A threat to his person?  Was that insufferable Tsuchikawa planning something?  But why would Monoma warn him about that?
“<Mika, Yoarashi, and Fukidashi are planning to set you and Akaya up.  Kaminari knows about it to.  I don’t think she can stop it.>”
They were going to… what?
Monoma went on. “<Mika claims that it’s obvious you two are very sweet on each other, but that neither one of you would be willing to make the first move.  I don’t know if that’s true, but with Mika and Fukidashi teaming up, it’s bound to be a ‘zany scheme.’>”
Koda… who was always kind to him, even when he let his anger and irritation get the better of him. And who forced him to be civil and interact with others, even when he wasn’t doing a particularly good job of it. Koda, who was a sweet, kind girl, who did not deserve the cruelties she had recently endured and seemed to still carry with her.
“<So as someone who has been pulled into many of Mika’s well-meaning, but disastrous schemes, I felt you deserved a warning,>” Monoma added.  But his expression turned hard as steel.  “<But rest assured, should you still chose to pursue a relationship with Akaya… You will treat her properly, or I will break every bone in your body.>”
With that, Monoma turned on his heels to walk to his own bunk, leaving Takiyo standing there, still trying to process what had been said.
“Hey!  Aoyama!”  He turned and saw Sero giving him a wave.  “Didja loose the blond pretty boy contest or something?  Looked pretty serious there!”
Takiyo’s lip pulled back in a snarl.  “SHUT UP!”
***
While the barracks for the kids had been relatively Spartan, the facilities in the main compound of the Rookies’ complex were surprisingly nicely appointed.  Most of them had gone to bed already.  Lady Luminous and Bezoar were in charge of waking the kids up for the next morning’s training session, but they’d all have to be up fairly early. It was late, eleven p.m., long past when Katsuki usually went to bed.  At least he’d been able to slip away earlier and call Eijiro and Tai. It’d been a long time since he hadn’t at least called to say goodnight to his son.  He wasn’t going to allow himself to miss it for a ‘good’ reason. Because he if he missed it for a ‘good’ reason, then it was a short trip to missing it for a bad reason.
And he was never going to be that kind of parent.  His parents had never been truly neglectful—though it had taken a lot of therapy to overcome and course correct his sometimes-toxic relationship with his mother and his enabling father—but they had often been gone.   He’d been left in the care of babysitters or ‘Auntie’ Inko as a child more often than he cared to remember, including one particularly disastrous time when he’d been ten and left in the care of his then-teenage shitty cousin Yu, and later to his own devices, when they’d been gone on some photo shoot or modeling expo.
Katsuki had been in a lot of fights over his life.  But his toughest fight was the one he fought every day to be a better parent than his own had been.  Thank whatever gods existed for Eijro.  It was easier to be the better person when you had someone who believed in you that much.
The damned hobo had already gone to bed, but Katsuma, Mahoro, a Rookie he didn’t recognize, and Fujii were still up in floor’s kitchen.  And damn did it make him feel old to see people he’d known when they were children as fully-fledged adults and Heroes in their own right.  They’d both done good, he admitted, with Katsuma working with Deku for a time and Mahoro training with Camie and even working as one of his Sidekicks for a time.  And sure, he hasn’t that much older than either of them.  He had less than ten on Katsuma and only five on Mahoro…
But even with their own experiences with that bastard, Nine, he’d had a lot more years of hard living than them.  It added up. He certainly felt older than his forty-one years.  Now, more than ever.
“So,” he said as he entered the kitchen, “one of you want to tell me why we’ve got Shiketsu students here? Was the Hobo right?  Are they dropping their problem kids on us?”
The Rookie he didn’t recognize spoke up.  He was a dark-skinned man with his hair in tight cornrows and seemed a bit younger than the rest.  He had a red and yellow uniform, with a key-shaped insignia on his chest. “They’re a little rough around the edges, but they don’t seem like problems to me.”
“You haven’t been doing this as long as the rest of us, Takagi,” Katsuma told him. “And you haven’t seen the complete files.”
Mahoro let out a laugh. “You say problem children like your kid isn’t one, Katsuki.”
Katsuki shot her a glare. Katsumi…  He was proud of his daughter, loved her more than almost anything in the entire world.  She’d gotten some of the best of him.  But she’d also gotten some of his worst too.  Her anger, her reluctance to properly grapple with her feelings or complex emotions.  She might have finally resolved her long-standing hang-ups around Izumi, and she definitely had a better relationship with Toshi than he’d had with Deku, but he still saw some of his school-age self in her.  “You take that back, brat.”   But he also wasn’t going to let anyone else point it out.
“You going to make me?” She gave him a glare of her own, as though challenging him.
“How have you not matured any in twenty-five years?” he shot back.
“Should… should we be stopping this?” Fujii asked, looking vaguely panicked.  The rubber-bodied Hero looked over at Katsuma as though to say ‘please, stop this.’
Katsuma pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Mahoro, please stop antagonizing Katsuki.  If you two wreck the kitchen, it’ll take forever to get it repaired. And Hiyori will pitch a fit if she can’t have her waffles.”
He pushed back from the table and stood up.  “I already had conversations with All Might and Aizawa about this, but you’re not far off, Katsuki.  It’s not a random delegation of students.  We were asked to take them on specifically.”
Katsuki just rolled his eyes.  “Of fucking course.”
“Hey,” Katsuma said. “No need for that kind of language!”
“Yeah, you better listen to him, dammit,” Mahoro said.  “We’ve got a swear jar and everything.”
Katsuki wanted to yell, to pop off a few explosions that would rattle Katsuma into realizing what a mistake he’d made in not telling him this immediately.  But instead, he sucked in a breath and shook his head, grinding his teeth. He didn’t like being blindsided like this, but anger wouldn’t do him any good.  Keeping track of the thirty-three U.A. students was enough of a challenge, even if he hadn’t known some of them since they were in diapers.  (He’d changed so many diapers.  His shitty-haired husband had a bad habit of offering to babysit for their friends without consulting him first.) He didn’t need any surprises, especially not in his first few days on the job.
What could be so bad that Shiketsu was dumping their kids on U.A.?  Sure, the dragon kid was angry, but he’d been worse. And that didn’t explain the rest, especially Windbag’s kid.
“Tell me everything.”
***
Katsuki took a seat at the table, as did Fujii, and Katsuma sat back down.  Takagi remained standing, leaning against the kitchen counter.  He crossed his arms and set his face in a scowl. To their credit, neither Katsuma nor Mahoro flinched.  Mahoro even copied his gesture and expression, the scowl looking only slightly silly on her face.  Takagi, though, definitely flinched at the scowl and impending sense of doom both he and Mahoro were giving off.
Good.  It was good to see that even hobbled as he was, he could still be intimidating.  Still, he felt a little bad.  The guy probably didn’t deserve it.  
“Okay,” Katsuma said, “so where do you want to start?”
“Tatsuma,” Katsuki said. “I can already tell she’s walking around with a hell of a chip on her shoulder.  What’s up?”
“Chie Tatsuma,” Katsuma went on, “daughter of the Dragoon Hero: Ryukyu.  Her Quirk allows her to transform into a humanoid dragon form.  Class Representative, winner of their first year Sports Festival.  Scary strong Quirk.  I’ve looked at her file and her scores in the Shiketsu entrance exam were off the charts.  They had to recalibrate their threshold because she scored so many points everyone else in her testing area was below the cutoff.”
“Kind of reminds me of you, Blasty,” Mahoro said, jabbing him in the side with her elbow.  Katsuki had to admit, she wasn’t wrong.  Not that he’d let her have the satisfaction of knowing that.  
“Okay,” Katsuki said. “She’s powerful, she’s arrogant. I can work with that.  What else?”
Katsuma frowned. “She’s also got a small but building disciplinary record.  She’s extremely dissatisfied with the Hero Rankings and the whole ranking system in general.  Of which she tends to me very vocal about.  Not a lot of respect for most of the top ranked Heroes.”  
Fujii tapped a finger against his chin.  “Didn’t Ryukyu drop in the rankings really quickly?  I remember when I was a kid, just after All Might retired, that she dropped a spot…”
That was putting it mildly. Once a young and rising star, Ryukyu had never been the same after the incident with the Shie Hassaikai.  Round Face had said it was like she’d suffered a crisis of faith, lost a step somewhere.  She’d slipped pretty steadily, year after year, ranking after ranking.  And so people had stopped believing in her.  You hear that kind of bullshit enough, you internalize it, and it just feeds a vicious cycle.
“And, of course, she’s got the kids of a shit ton of high ranked Heroes with her here,” Katsuki growled. “Wonderful.  Let me guess… wants to make a name for herself and redeem her mom, but hates the system that’d make that happen?”
“Got it,” Katsuma said. “Think maybe you can help direct her anger some?”
“I’m the Number Four Hero,” Katsuki snapped.  At least until the next Billboard Chart ranking.  Not something he was looking forward to.  It was only a “leave of absence.”  Best Jeanist had been the same ranking as he was when he’d suffered a nearly career ending injury too.  That had turned out all right for his old mentor, but he wondered if he’d be able to say the same.  He was going to file that under things he wasn’t going to think about.  “She won’t listen to me.”
“Aizawa said he’d talk to her,” Mahoro said.  “Underground Heroes don’t get ranked at all.  Maybe he’ll get through.  And besides, he managed to focus you.”
Katsuki let her have that one.
“Let’s see,” Katsuma went on.  “I assume you’re familiar with Shinji Yoarashi?”
“You really want to ask stupid questions?” he shot back.  “I’ve known Windbag’s kid for ages.  I’m guessing his being here has something to do with his unauthorized rescue mission back during the Nomu mess?”
The kid had likely saved Katsumi’s life, Round Face’s too, with that stunt.  Even if it’d been technically illegal and on extremely dubious grounds, Katsuki couldn’t blame him too much for that.  Sure, he was as annoying and loud as his dad, but his heart had been in the right place.  Sometimes, intent mattered more than the rules.
“Pretty much,” Katsuma said with a nod.  “His teachers want us to focus in on following the rules and proper procedures.”
“Does that include knowing when to break them?”
“No,” Katsuma said.
“Yes,” Mahoro said at the same time.  The two exchanged glances.
“Got it,” Katsuki said.
“Good,” Fujii added. “…Explain it to me?”
Katsuki did not dignify that with a response.
“Okay,” he said, “what about Tsuchikawa?”  He still couldn’t believe Pixie-Bob had a kid.  Apparently, she adopted him after stopping his villainous parent.  Word around the rumor mill, or wherever Pikachu got his nonsense from, was that she was still just as promiscuous and flirtatious as ever, having made the complete transformation into a full on cougar. She was supposed to have a daughter too, he recalled, though the father wasn’t known.  
He shuddered at the memory of the woman at Class 3-A’s graduation, sitting front row, giving him, Deku, IcyHot, and Glasses looks he never wanted to see again.
“Ego and lack of teamwork skills mostly,” Mahoro told him.  She gave him a pointed look.  “Definitely your department.”
“Ooooh, she’s got you pegged,” Fujii said.  The rubber-bodied man grinned for a second, before wilting under Katsuki’s glare.
“How has Aizawa not killed you yet, you glorified gacha prize?”  His former teacher didn’t suffer fools gladly and neither did Katsuki. And yes, while he was relatively young, Fujii did have an impressive career as a Pro-Hero behind him already. Never more than a “friendly neighborhood Hero”, he was nevertheless liked by many and had saved a lot of lives. And very popular with children to boot. Tai had an action figure of him that actually bounced.
He was just damned annoying.
“I’m pretty much indestructible!”
Katsuki growled.  “You want to put that to the test?”
“…No.”
“What about Park?” he asked, rather than get drawn into anything else with his fellow teacher.  “Korean, right?”  Something tugged at his memory and he frowned as he tried to place it.
“Another one with a lot of anger,” Katsuma admitted.  “And even more distrust for Heroes than Tatsuma.  Tatsuma, at least, only disagrees with the ranking of Heroes and the spectator sport part of that.  Park isn’t entirely convinced in the Hero system at all.  Impressive Quirk though… uses bioenergy to enhance her physical attributes.  Short bursts of power or speed.  She’ll make a good Hero if she can get past her issues.”
He looked a little defeated by the prospect of it.  Katsuki remembered what he’d been like on Nobu Island, a lot like Deku had been at the same age.  So full of love for Heroes and faith that they could solve everything.  He’d even admit he’d been like that at one time, before he’d been kidnapped and forced to reckon with his own limitations.  Before he’d seen so much of the seedier side of the world, and the problems that punching something or unleashing an explosion in its face couldn’t solve.
“Any idea what caused it?” Fujii asked.  “Everybody likes Heroes.  It’s kind of Japan’s thing.”
“The Ignition Incident,” Katsuki said, as the memory floated itself up into his mind.  Up until Endeavor’s public confession, it had been the biggest scandal in Hero history.  
“The what now?” Fujii asked. His rubberized features twisted up in confusion.  “I don’t remember any Ignition Incident.”
“Then you either weren’t paying attention or had a crappy Hero History teacher,” Katsuki growled. What the hell were they teaching in schools these days?  That American idiot, Skyline, taught Hero History at U.A.  He’d maybe he’d have to sit in on a few classes to make sure they were getting it right.
“Wait,” Takagi said. His eyes went wide. “I know about that one.  Shit.”
“Anybody going to clue me in here?” Fujii asked, looking furtively from face to face.  “I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So this was about twenty years ago,” Katsuma explained.  “Ignition was Suguru Dian, a U.A. grad from the class behind Deku and his friends, with a powerful flame Quirk that basically let him set anything on fire.  He went from Sidekick to full on Pro in almost no time at all.  People called him the second coming of Endeavor.”
Katsuki remembered the guy, having worked with him a few times, both professionally and when they’d been students and the then Class 2-A had done joint training with the new 1-A. Arrogant as all get out, but with the talent to back it up.  Of course, Aizawa and Deku had ended up having to pry him and Katsuki apart…
“So Ignition is half-Chinese and a rising star,” Mahoro said, taking over from her brother.  “And being a rising star like that, the HPSC, in its infinite wisdom, thinks it’s got an “in” to help better police some of the Chinatown communities, especially with the Rising Sons Triad starting to fill the void the Shie Hassaikai left behind.  Unfortunately, he’s got daddy issues, on account of his Chinese dad abusing him and his mom.  Which boils over into some pretty self-hating racist stuff too.”
“Okay,” Fujii said. “I’m getting some ideas here, but Park’s Korean, not Chinese.”
“We’re getting to it,” Katsuma said.  “So Ignition is made a part of an anti-Triad taskforce, and ends up investigating a Triad owned restaurant.  The community there is already pretty involved in self-policing, so there’s a lot of resistance, insults, pretty much all his buttons getting pushed.  But something inside him snaps, total breakdown. He thinks he’s taking down Triad agents, and instead he’s fighting innocent civilians with an extremely dangerous Quirk.”
“People died, man,” Takagi said.  “Dozens more injured, massive property damage, the works.  Public relations nightmare and international scandal.  Global news for months.”
“There was a big show trial,” Katsuma added.  “Ignition was stripped of his license.  As far as I know, he’s still locked away somewhere.  The HPSC made a big show of providing additional sensitivity training for Heroes, better psych screening, community outreach, all the kinds of things that would reassure the public.”
Katsuki remembered it all well.  He’d only been solo a year or two at that point, not long after a stint sidekicking under Beast Jeanist.  His late mentor had been appalled by what had happened.  He’d been disgusted too.  Especially by the way the HPSC reacted.  
“It was all smoke,” he snarled.  “They didn’t prohibit it, but they did stop specifically assigned Heroes to “ethnic” neighborhoods. And sure, plenty of Heroes still went in and did their damn jobs.  But it broke a lot of trust.  They left a lot of people to fend for themselves, instead of cleaning up their own act.”
Even Deku had wanted to do more, but he’d been too new still, too hamstrung by the rules and regulations.  He’d done more than any of them though.  Deku was one of the few Heroes pretty much beloved across all communities in Japan.
“Things got better, eventually,” Katsuma said.  “Political winds shifted, Commission members turned over, policies got reversed, and we started working with people better.  But there’s still a lot of people out there who remember or who felt the effects of being abandoned.  The general consensus in a lot of those communities is still not to trust Heroes or have any faith in us being able to get the job done.”
“Well… shit,” Fujii said. “How did I not know about this?”
“Because you’re an idiot?” Katsuki suggested, but his heart wasn’t in the barb.  The man seemed genuinely shocked by the news and even a bit sobered by it.
“That’s really only about half of it,” Katsuma said.  “She was born here, but her parents were immigrants, seeking to escape the anti-Mutant Humanist groups in Korea.  Of course…”
Right, Katsuki thought. That was a whole mess of politics and cultural issues he didn’t even feel remotely qualified to untangle.  But the government tended to lump all members of an ethnic group together, in this case not sparing much distinction between new immigrants and culturally assimilated Zainicihi Koreans.  With crime and politics and all that… it didn’t leave a lot of faith in the supposed chosen protectors.  And when you’d seen the government turn on you once…
“So we’ve got to undo generational trauma,” he groaned.  “Great. They came here, expecting the same protection from heroes Japanese citizens get, and instead they arrive into a hornet's nest due to uncaring bureaucrats desperately trying to save face while not rocking the boat.”
He let out a frustrated noise.  What about the last one?  Shida? The spider-girl.  What’s her damage?”
“Oh, her,” Mahoro laughed. “She just wanted to be with her friends, apparently.  And no one told her why the others were being sent.”
That was…  that was…  pretty par for the course for absurdity, where things in his life were concerned.  Katsuki let out a laugh, long and loud.
“Make it stop!” Fujii wailed.  “He’s scaring me!”
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raleigh-ocean · 4 years
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bonnie and clyde's homebody's days | part 1 | natasha romanoff x sharon carter
words: 5,050
summary: Every day she spent by Sharon’s side, made Natasha realize how little she knew about her but at the same time how much she could actually understand about the woman. However, Sharon realized exactly the same about the Black Widow.
But now that they were together —for what it seemed a long time—, they could actually fix everything in their own weird way. Being homebodies together seemed a really good way to get to know each other better.
And Natasha liked it.
Because that was everything she wanted from a long time ago.
n/a: i had this story on my ao3 for a really long time and I thought maybe posting it here will make me want to keep writing it, because I had such good feelings about it...so here you have the first chapter while I write the third part of ashes to ashes!
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part 1: homecoming
Her whole body ached from holding on the adrenaline, but she had to in order to get the job done. During the day, she had been getting every bit of intel she could get from the neighborhood people, playing the innocent soon-to-be-neighbor that wants to know a bit the whole place before finally moving in. It was good to not feel like everyone was about to jump over her back, ready to delate her and arrest her.
Running her fingers through her now short hair, she wondered if it was even a good idea. She was going to shoot her, in the best case, but she could get away from it with her natural gift of the gab. But she was going to beat her up, oh yeah, and it was going to hurt...for a day, maybe, two if she shoot her.
She looked up at the apartment block from the terrace where she was sat at. The last one was hers, she studied the whole place from her laptop when she did some research field at the station. Escaping from Berlin was the easiest thing she ever did, but as much as she wanted to not be noticed, being the worldwide-known-redhead didn’t help her a bit. With luck she had managed to reach Belarus before anyone notice her, but then a few agents from the Interpol tried to casually knock her down. The idea of dying her hair wasn’t really attractive but it was for the best. Another thing that she didn’t like at all. She really hated blonde, with every drop of her whole being, only liking it on her.
Sharon’s blonde wasn’t that light. It was way darker, caramel-like.
Hers was almost white, platinum, and she hated it even more thanks to her memories.
Gulping down the rest of her coffee, she prepared herself to climb to the top of the building. If she entered by the front door, then it would be so rookie of her. Like a mere burglar, too loud, too childish. Her backpack had only a few things she got to get before running away. Her laptop, her favorite pair of boots, a few of her toys and some clothes. She felt like a soldier, too little in her back and none to come back home to.
While climbing from the back alley, she remembered her trip. After Belarus she went to Russia right away, to clear her mind and find some old connections that would help her get some new documents and another intel she would need after parting ways with everyone she knew. For a second, around the fourth block, she had to stop. Hanging there from a balcony, thinking that she was alone now with none to care if she let herself fall from that high—she could hear Sharon already, giving her the scold of her life while she probably bleed to death, her brain all over the pavement.
But now there she was, in Finland, climbing Sharon’s apartment block to get in hers and be shoot by the same woman out of surprise. Lovely plan, she chuckled giving herself a last push in Sharon’s balcony.
The metal balcony was frozen, making her feet hurt from the cold that passed through her thin climbing shoes. Taking one of her toys out of her even thiner coat, the window lock gave in really easily. It was bloody cold out there, she hadn’t any bit of patience after being the whole day wandering around in that cold town Sharon decided to settle her safe place.
When her feet touched the carpet, she looked around to take a glimpse of the whole living room. Sharon wasn’t home, not yet at least, giving her a little time to think about what she was going to tell her.
She closed the window with care —trying to not be noisy anyway, out of habit— and when she turned around to start walking towards the lamp at the corner of the room, an iron fist met her jaw with a powerful hook.
Dizzy for a second, she managed to take a wrist and then throw a blind punch that landed right in someone’s shoulder. The attacker didn’t seem to feel it, because they threw another punch and then connected it with a side kick that she got to stop. The electricity shone for a second before her punch landed right in her attacker’s stomach, getting a shriek of pain from them. But that didn’t last much, because the attacker held her arm before kicking her ribs twice. With her last electric charge wasted, she tried to knock the attacker down with all her strength, jumping over them and encircling her legs to their neck before smash both fists in their head.
However as she was encircling her legs around their neck, the attacker put both hands in her thighs before spinning around and making her to lose her balance and land against the wall. That kicked the air out of her lungs immediately and quickly she was retained in a headlock. The attacker strength was enough to strangulate her now that she didn’t have much of hers to counterattack.
Feeling the lack of oxygen creeping into her, her hand wandered blindly around her till she got something and she smashed it in the head of her attacker, breaking free finally and rolling away from them.
In her head, every single bit of intel passed at light speed, only wondering if someone had found Sharon before her and they were going to get her right in the moment she steps in her apartment. She had to get rid off them before she came back home, she had to save her—
“Don’t you fucking dare to move,” she felt the cold bite of a gun in the middle of her forehead. The voice was twice as cold and a little click from the safety made her shiver. “Because I won’t hesitate on painting my wall with your head.”
She kept being still where she was, her brain stuck on what the attacker had said. Her voice was cold, yeah, but she could figure out a soft accent from someone that was too into getting unnoticed. And also, the remark on ‘my wall’ made her panic.
It was Sharon. Sharon was the attacker.
Before she could say something, they heard someone walking towards the front door. In the darkness, she saw Sharon put a finger over her lips to shush her. Whoever was behind the door, asked worriedly if Sharon was okay but the old lady —as she could discern perfectly- called her ‘Elisabetta’ instead of her real name. Sharon replied in loud italian, almost cheerful to match the lie that came with her words —bang her head? Against the shelf? And then knock off the wardrobe?— and waited a minute before pressing the gun a bit more against her skin. When the old lady went away after making Sharon promise that she will pass by her house next morning, to check if she was really okay, and she swore she had seen the determination to kill her in Sharon’s eyes.
Natasha never blurted out something that fast ever in her life.
“It’s me, Sharon. It’s me, please, don’t shoot,” for once she really felt her tears piling up in her eyes. “Put the safety on the loaded gun, baby. Put the safety on, damn it.”
Sharon kept the gun against her skin but her voice sounded different when she talked next.
“Natasha?” That was more warm and more like the Sharon she knew. “What are—bloody hell, Natasha.”
A weak smile rolled over Natasha’s lips but when Sharon turned on the light, the smile died. Sharon was bleeding from her head, the blood dripping over her right eye; her face had the pain painted all over it, matching with her right arm resting in her stomach; and her shoulder looked...off. Natasha was way less harm than her, only feeling a little ache in her throat and maybe she would have a bruise in her cheek from the punch.
Her dark brown hair was just an insignificant detail compared with the rest.
“When did you got this strong? Baby has some iron punches,” Natasha tried to brush the situation off, trying to play along with a smirk. “Are you going to keep pointing at me with the gun or would you like me to help you?”
Sharon’s face got even colder with the remark. Natasha knew that she didn’t let a spark of her shine for at least four or five months but now she was there, alive. When she heard the soft click from the safety, Natasha felt herself relax. But Sharon wasn’t, and her lips were pressed in a strong line before say something.
“You electrocuted me,” her hand tighten over her stomach, Natasha feeling a rush of guilty washing her from head to toe. “After barging in my apartment, four and half months without any trace of you or any of the others,” she wiped with shaking fingers some blood off her face. Natasha stood there, looking at her. “And the only thing you say is ‘baby has some iron punches’?”
“Would you be happier if I’d said ‘I’m home, my love’?” Natasha tried to sass her way out of Sharon’s building anger.
“I’d be okay without my butcher telling me there was this strange blonde woman acting all suspicious around town, creeping the shit out of everyone around the block,” Natasha hit the first strike just with her try of avoiding it. “Did you think for a second that I was myself hiding?”
“I thought you were here because the CIA wanted you here,” Natasha, don’t lie, it’s even worse if you do it. The little voice in her head was always so right in these cases. “You’re always the perfect one, babe.”
“After stealing government stuff, I was included in the same list as you all,” she tried to smile but she drop it immediately. “Not even a kiss from Captain America himself make any of this slightly better.”
Natasha felt cold, her whole body aching inside because of the confession.
“I thought you were satisfied with the Black Widow eating you out,” she felt the second strike as soon as those words left her mouth, Sharon’s eyes darting to hers menacing. “Next time I see that moron, you bet I’m going to crack his skull.”
“Your childish jealousy it’s making me dizzy, Romanoff,” she said coldly, letting the gun over the table and looking really pale at this moment. Natasha worried immediately, taking a few steps towards Sharon before she lifted her good arm to stop her. “I swear if you say something else to sass your way out from this, I’m kicking you out.”
“I smashed a crystal ashtray against your head, sweetie,” Natasha was serious now but she stopped when Sharon’s hand touch her belly. She could see her tears falling freely from her eyes and her hand gripped in Natasha’s thin coat. “I think you’ll need stitches.”
“What I need now is a glass of bourbon,” Sharon’s voice cracked as soon the words left her mouth. “And I won’t say no to a kiss, maybe.”
No third strike. Natasha kneeled in front of the other woman before pulling her into a kiss. It tasted salty but she didn’t care a single bit. She pulled away a little, letting out a soft chuckle that made Sharon flinch and let out a few more tears. With care, she wiped them with her thumbs before pressing her lips together again. This was what she loved from her girl. She could be ready to take her down one second and the next she could melt her insides, only being the big nervous ball of fluff she was under the facade of ‘agent’.
It took a couple more of minutes for Sharon to let go of her. Natasha stood up, going towards the cupboard to get a glass and pour the alcohol there. The strong drink made her grimace twist a bit, but when she saw her girl chug it as if was water she let out a muffled laugh. Her fingers ran through Sharon’s dark locks, checking the open wound before asking quietly where the first-aid kit was. Head wounds could be so scandalous, she thought while cleaning the cut placed in Sharon’s hair line. Natasha put her shoulder back after she had chug another glass of strong bourbon and, after checking the electroshock wasn’t going to make her have a heart attack, she proceeded to take care of the burnt in Sharon’s stomach.
“I like your hair,” those four words were followed by the brunette brushing with care Natasha’s short hair.
“I like yours too, silly,” a light chuckle before a kiss in her cheek. “I have to say this before I blurted it out in an inappropriate moment." Sharon tried to hold her head with her good hand. "Babe, you really look like you're her love child.”
Sharon smiled at that for a second and then she sighed deeply. The sigh gave Natasha the feeling that she didn't have to say that. There was something behind her behavior that she didn’t want to tell yet and Natasha knew it by the way she was trying to avoid eye contact. She understood, smiling warmly before making her lying down in the couch. She wasn’t going to go anywhere, but Sharon caught her hand before making her way to the kitchen. She didn’t look at her and Natasha had to be the one talking again.
“I’m starving, I thought it would be really cool if I make some supper for both,” she ran her thumb over Sharon’s back of the hand to calm her down.
“You won’t go, right?” Her voice was soft and cautious, not letting show more feeling that she already had shown. “You came here for a reason.”
Natasha leant one more time over Sharon to press a kiss in her forehead. It made her feel heavy inside when the other woman talked with that tiny voice. She had talked like that a few times in front of her, the last one in Berlin when they met briefly before everything went down hill, right after Peggy’s funeral. It was the girl behind the agent, the girl that caught her around her fingers when she didn’t notice, the girl that she was willing to give in every single time her brown eyes locked with hers.
“I thought you wanted to move in with me,” Natasha faked a hurt voice before keep talking with playfulness dripping in every word that left her mouth. Sharon’s hand slapped her thigh. “And no, I won’t go. We will have time tomorrow to talk, Bonnie, but for now let Clyde take care of you.”
Sharon chuckled something that seemed like ‘why are you always Clyde’, trying to sound more cheerful than the last interactions they had. However, from the kitchen, Natasha saw how she put her gun near her in the table. That little detail made her wonder about what the other woman had been put through during their separate time.
She didn't miss either how Sharon flinched slightly when she put the plate over the living room table.
...
Sitting cross-legged over the toilet, Natasha rubbed her temples with her fingers. It was nearly four in the morning, way after they decided that it was a really good idea to get some sleep. She took the couch for once in her life, trying to give Sharon some space to think alone. She decided not to ask for anything more than a shower, letting her desire of working in her laptop die when Sharon got pale with the mention of it.
Natasha was a nervous ball on daily basis, she couldn't stay still for five minutes without jumping into weird monologues or without start messing around with whoever was near her. It was something that came with her personality, it was Natalia trying to get out in someway. And lately these days, she felt more like Natalia than Natasha. That's why she was locked in the only bathroom of the apartment, trying to come up with something to finally stay still for what it seemed would be a long time.
She listed —helping herself with her fingers too— things that she knew already about Sharon. When she got a handful, she started to reduce the list to those she knew that drive Sharon mad. The first thing she had to do was to make the other woman comfortable before jumping on where they left it last time they saw each other.
For example, Sharon hated profusely how Natasha couldn't stop from pacing the room like a caged animal when she ran out from things to do. She couldn't stand either that her favorite hobby was both mounting and unmounting things in the apartment, with Sharon having to buy two microwaves and one hairdryer once Natasha stayed with her for a few months. The other thing was to actually help doing house chores, because after a few incidents and Sharon saying that it was okay, that she could handle it in her own, Natasha thought she could put a bit more of attention to it.
She sighed heavily, feeling her chest full of things she knew that drive Sharon mad even when they didn't talk about them. It was going to be a hard task, but she was decided to make it work. It was something she owed to Sharon, a normal life.
A normal life.
A soft chuckle got muffled against her hand before closing her eyes. It was impossible to have a 'normal' life with their profession, even more when they were being chased by federals and a few private security companies. Natasha wished to have Clint by her side, to ask him about how the fuck he managed to hide his whole family from all and maybe to have a shoulder to rely on. She trusted Steve and Sharon, but Clint was there for her always. And she missed him. She really missed him.
In the middle of the storm that was her head, someone made her come back to Earth. A quick knock in the bathroom door that made her jump in her feet and unlock the door.
Sharon was there, sleepy and puffy eyes, her —now, Natasha swallowed hard again— dark hair messier than the night before and her hand over her wounded shoulder.
"I thought you took to your heels when I fell asleep," her voice was a bit husky and she licked her lips absent minded.
“Why would I do that?” Natasha’s smirk hid her nervousness, leaning forward to kiss her nose.
“I don’t know, you always runaway in my dreams,” her hand brushed away some strands of Natasha’s hair before pulling her in a hug, taking in count not be harsh and make her own wounds worse. “I’m glad you didn’t this time.”
A soft last whisper on top her head. A warm embrace that lingered in Natasha’s body even when Sharon broke apart and passed by her to get in the shower.
...
She felt like an alien hours later, sitting by Sharon's side at her neighbor’s house. The Italian woman that had asked Sharon if she was okay the night before was making them breakfast, and Sharon didn't seem awkward by the whole situation. Natasha felt uncomfortable though, with a toddler and a young woman staring curious at her from the other side of the table.
Sharon felt familiar with the older woman around, speaking in almost perfect Italian. Another thing that Natasha found funny was the sweet coincidence. Sharon moved to Finland, to the other side of the world, just to make friends like an old Italian immigrant who married a Finnish man and now was taking care of her grand-daughter and her toddler.
However, Natasha liked how the elderly woman treat her favorite agent as if she was her grandchild too. Even though she had to muffle a giggle every time the woman callrd Sharon by 'Elisabetta'.
New identities were always fun. It was like playing a game you only knew.
And playing roles with Sharon was the best. Natasha was now Nadja Redford, proud girlfriend of Elizabeth Martinelli, which had traveled all the way to Finland because her parents kicked her out after coming out to them. Natasha let Sharon build the role for her, only talking a shade of rusty Italian when it was needed —she understands but it's a big deal to talk, Natasha was cracking up inside, knowing her Italian was way better than Sharon's. Although she was finding sexy Sharon's Brooklyn accent under all the effort she was putting into the facade.
When they were safe again behind Sharon's apartment door, Natasha finally burst into laughter after holding it up during the whole thing.
"Nadja Redford is going to be one of my favorite identities," she said, walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water, rubbing away the pain in her stomach due to the laughter. "You are good at coming up with ideas, but you didn't tell me a thing about yours, Miss Elizabeth Martinelli."
Sharon didn't say a thing for a few seconds, only staring at Natasha. Being with someone close to her after this long felt strange to her, but it was reassuring. It still feels unreal, even putting up all that lie to build Natasha’s persona, but with time she would find herself comfortable again. Even with Natasha talking like they were on a mission.
“Elizabeth Martinelli lost her father on a lab incident, mom tried to move on but she end up living with her Nonna, an old movie star that worked as a governmental secretary when she got too old for the scene,” Sharon let herself fall in the individual sofa, a soft smile curving her lips. “When her Nonna died, Elizabeth moved to Finland, landing a job at Stark Industries new project as a security guard. Never heard of her mom after her tenth birthday.”
“Your nonna was lit,” Natasha chuckled, walking towards her. “Stark Industries?”
“Yeah, it was. A sunshine on Earth, my grandaunt used to say,” Sharon welcomed her, feeling the burn on her stomach pulling a bit when the other woman got comfortable in her lap. “Pepper helped me, she was the only one I could contact after Berlin. We put everything together within two days, maybe, and I moved in here by the end of the week. She is the only one knowing I’m here...well, and now you too.”
“Now everything makes more sense, Tony wouldn’t let his guard down after Vanko’s fiasco. He was actually hurt by me lying and sticking my nose into his files,” another chuckle and Sharon took her hand. “I respect Pepper a lot, but she isn’t that skilled in making her files unreadable. I put some more security up after taking what I needed. We are more safe now.”
They stayed in silence for a while, only playing with their hands and Natasha kissing Sharon's knuckles from time to time. Those times when they only acted sweet towards each other were the best. But something clicked on Natasha's mind, something that needed to be ask now that she noticed. Later Sharon would ask her about how exactly she found her aside of sniffing around things that didn't concern her.
"Elizabeth's grandaunt or Sharon's grandaunt?" she mumbled, looking directly at Sharon's eyes.
"Grandaunt is the same for both," Sharon looked troubled for a second, even with a faint smile over her lips. "I'm not ready to talk about it, Natalia. I just want to know how did you find me and what do you actually want," Natasha felt out of breath with how fast everything changed in Sharon's behavior. "And I want it now. Spit it out."
Natasha fell to the floor when Sharon stood up, hitting slightly her head with the border of the couch. That was plainly rude, but she had a point. She appeared in the middle of the night, somewhere none but two persons knew about and she actually said 'yeah' when Sharon told her she knew there was a motive behind her doing all this.
When she finally stood up, Sharon was looking at her from the open plan kitchen. Her hands gripped over the counter and with nothing but her agent self showing in her eyes. She was about to joke about Sharon having her gun with her, when the other woman put her favorite one over the counter as little reminder.
"Okay, let me take a s—" Sharon raised a brow and Natasha stood still in front of her, rubbing her hand over her eyes before start talking. "After Berlin I ran away before anyone could notice. Took my laptop and a few things before sprinting towards Poland. I knew someone on Warsaw that could actually help me get some new documents, so that was my first stop. I didn't last there, two weeks later I was on my way to Belarus."
Natasha sighed heavily, scratching her scalp a bit while Sharon stayed still.
"Some agents made me recognize that having red hair wasn't really okay if you are on the run," she took a few platinum strands of her hair. "So I left too when they found me near Latvia's frontier. Saint Petersburg isn't that far from where I was, so my feet lead me home." She let out a low chuckle that made her feel her eyes start to get teary. "I met with an old friend and he kept me safe for a couple months, while I was gathering enough information about the others. I wanted to join them in Wakanda," Natasha flashed a quick smile and put her hands behind her back. "But I found you while wandering in Tony's files. And I wanted to be with you."
"Being cheesy doesn't suit you," Sharon shook her head slowly, breaking the eye contact to look at the counter.
"It's the truth, Sharon," her voice lowered more when she said the name, showing the anger that was building up on her. "Can’t you believe in me? For once?"
Okay, she hadn't need to say that. It was unnecessary, she knew it. But this game of who push the other further was tiring her after three years of playing it. However, Sharon's eyes darted again to meet Natasha's and she took away her gun to put it on a drawer.
"For once?" Her voice was showing the true anger from someone that was slowly burning inside. "I believed in you when a bunch of aliens and a Nordic god tried to kill you and you told me it was over the night after; I believed in you the night you told me what you did to my legacy, telling me you were done with this life at the moment; I believed in you when you all landed in Washington, after destroying a whole city because Stark decided to play the mad scientist; I believed in you when you told me you wanted to settle down with me after the funeral," Sharon was crying at this point and Natasha looked down at the floor. "After every time I believe in you, you run away from me. And you just asked me to believe in you for once."
"I was trying to get intel about Tony and the others in real time when I got across your file, I guess Steve pulled the old protocol to protect them all because I didn't find shit," the truth told straight away was the way Natasha had to take in order to make Sharon believe in her. "I'd turned my back on Tony to help Steve and now I'm alone like always," Natasha sighed again before daring to look at Sharon. "And I rather be alone with someone that actually likes me than simply alone," Another chuckle and it was her turn to cry. "I guess I’ll take my stuff, I shouldn’t be here if you aren’t comfortable. It seems you don’t like me either after all...”
Sharon walked around the counter to take Natasha's hands. The only thing she did was holding her hands really tight before pulling them closer to kiss her fingers. Her lips were cold when she pulled Natasha in for a kiss. Cold, salty and wet.
“I like you,” Sharon’s voice was so low that Natasha thought she didn’t say a thing. “I love Nadja, I love Natasha, I love Natalia,” she could feel the brunette’s hands going up her arms to hold her better. “I love you and I only needed you to tell me the truth,” Sharon made her look at her, placing her hands in each side of Natasha’s face. “Clyde always told Bonnie the truth, right?”
Natasha didn’t know a single fuck about what that meant for Sharon, but she nodded. She nodded and then she felt herself pushing Sharon towards the master bedroom. She felt her own hands acting with care to not touch the wounds she inflicted. Sharon was all over her senses, from muffled moans to hands that roamed around her body with knowledge.
They always made up like that. They would sort things out, loose ends to take care of when the right time arrived. Eventually, when they both find themselves comfortable around each other again to let their guard down. And that was okay to them, because they didn’t know how to fix things without landing some punches and no-meant words.
With Sharon over her, Natasha thought they would have enough time this time around. Enough time to actually address each other properly.
Enough for Natasha to feel safe.
Enough for Sharon to feel secure.
She was going to scold the taller woman about living the frat-boy life. Yeah, she was going to put some order in her life, she couldn’t live off leftovers from the old Italian woman that lived under her nor having everything as if a bomb had just exploded in the middle of the master room forever.
But first she would take care of what was going on between her legs. 
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littlejeanniebean · 4 years
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The Outsiders | Sodapop x Cocoa | Part 3
A/N: Okay, one more time with feeling! Part 1, Part 2. - J xx
Seventeen students were killed, eight are still in critical condition at the hospital, twenty-four were discharged including Cocoa. There's a lot of anger going around and it could be a long while before the dust settles.
Boss lets me keep the extra shift at the DX. Darry tells me it’s good that I’m saving up for a rainy day. I don’t tell him that I’m saving up for a very specific day. I’m not even convinced I’ll go through with it myself.
“Hey, Soda.”
“Hey, Pony,” I see the envelope in his hand, “Good news?”
“Flash fiction contest. Third place. But it’s still twenty bucks.”
“Hot dog, Pony!” I reach over and tussle his hair, “What did ya write about?”
“Read it yourself,” he grabs one of the magazines off the shelf and shows me the page his story is on.
“Hey, this Carter guy’s a real Romeo,” I tell him after a minute with it.
“Yeah? What do you think of Juliet?”
Cocoa. She reminds me of Cocoa. “Pony… would you be mad if I moved out?”
“That depends, can I have your half of the room?” he grins, but then he gets a good look at my face, “Oh, wait, you’re serious… It’s Cocoa, isn’t it? Because she’s moving to LA.”
“Maybe…” I put up a smile for him, “I was just thinking, is all.”
Pony is thinking too. “You’ve known her for less than three months.”
“She’s not moving till the end of the summer. By then I’ll have known her for just under six. And don’t forget I knew Sandy for years and turns out that didn’t amount to much...”
“Hey, well,” he leans in, “you know it’s not really me you need to convince, Romeo.” 
“Just know I wouldn’t leave if you and Darry need me here to keep you two bulls from ripping each other’s heads off.”
Ponyboy nods, but he’s got the look like he’s just got another idea for another story, so I let him run home with it. 
I come into the house in the dark and head straight for the fridge. Darry made beans. Again. I close the fridge and grab the cereal box from the cupboard. 
“Hey, I cooked, you know,” Darry shuffles out of our parents’ old room and sits beside me on the couch.
“Hey! How come Soda gets to eat cereal?” Ponyboy comes out of our room with a pencil stuck behind his ear and lead smudges on his thumb and pointer. 
“Because he’s a stubborn old horse,” Darry grabs me in a loose headlock, which I would’ve gotten out of easily had he not continued, “who wants to leave us to go to Hollywood.”
“I’d just be working at another gas station in another city, guys. If you’re okay with me going. I wouldn’t leave if -”
“We need you here to keep us two bulls from ripping each other’s heads off,” Darry finished, “Pony told me.”
“Just tell ‘em, Darry!” the brother in question punches his arm lightly. 
“Alright, alright… Soda…” he takes a minute to gather his thoughts, “you’ve… never really… wanted anything… as long as I’ve known you. I mean, you’ve always sorta… gotten things, except for school and even then our teachers still liked ya well enough for trying’... and then when you dropped out, you just… didn’t want anything, which made birthdays and Christmas really difficult, by the w-”
“Just tell me, Darry!” I laugh.
He nods and looks at me, “You want this, Soda?”
I think of Cocoa, smiling wide, telling me I’m wonderful. I want that and I want that to mean something. I want to help her get where she wants to go in any way I can. Even if that just means getting on the bus with her, helping her move into that boarding house, and then coming straight back. I tell my brothers, “Yeah.”
“Then we’ll try not to kill each other,” Pony grins, grabbing a handful of cereal despite Darry’s best blocking efforts.
“Hey, be quiet so I can call ‘er!” I say, my ear to the phone, “Hey, Coco.”
“Hey, Poppie, thanks for the feel-better flowers! Gardenias are my favorite.”
“Thought I’d surprise you with something other than gum for once.”
“You’re too sweet… Is there a war going on at your place?”
“Always,” I deadpan, watching Darry and Ponyboy wrestle for the cereal box.
She laughs, “So what’s shakin’?”
“You still think I look like one of ‘em good actors?” I smirk although she can’t see me.
“I mean, you’ve kinda gotten old, but I guess you’ll do,” she giggles, “Why? Thinking of coming to LA with me?”
I take a deep breath, “If you’ll have me.”
Even though I can’t see her, I just know she’s smiling wide when she tells me, “Always.”
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Agents of Shield- The Asset
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Pairing: Leo Fitz x Violet Ward (OC)
Summary: An old man is kidnapped, Skye struggles with her training, Grant, Skye, and Coulson go in head-first, Violet is worried about everything
Warnings: cursing, fighting, an explosion, uh maybe some blood?
Word Count:  8786
“Is she coming?” I held the punching bag steady for Grant, trying to put equal weight on both my legs.
“She’s supposed to be. Hey, ease up on your leg if you need to.” He pointed, stopping his punches, noticing how I shifted from one leg to the other.
“It’s fine.” I shook my head.
“No, it is not. Listen to him.” Fitz scolded from the lab.
“Shut up, Leo.”
“I’m sorry, love, but the boys are right. Don’t put too much stress on it, or you’ll be back to square one with fingers through your stitches.” Jemma gave me a kind smile, hinting to a few nights ago when our bus had been attacked.
“Haha.” Grant taunted, sticking his tongue out.
I took a jab at him, only for him to step to the side and catch me in a headlock. He laughed as I shook loose, eyes squinted.
“That was uncalled for.” I stuck my nose up in the air, turning my head to the side and ignoring him.
He cleared his throat and I looked to see Skye coming down the steps. Grant put his serious face on and went back to punching the bag.
“You know you’re late.” He eyed her.
“I’m tired from this morning’s workout. I thought I was joining S.H.I.E.L.D., not 24 hour fitness.” She sighed, giving him her hands so he could check over her wrappings.
“It’s called relative strength training. Starting with the basics. And next time, you do fifteen push-ups for every minute you’re late.” He readjusted one.
“Fine, Mr. Fun Machine. Better than pull ups. I don’t ever wanna do another pull up again.” She stated.
“You find yourself hanging off the edge of a building twenty stories up, you’re gonna wanna do at least one.” He gave her a face before turning to instruct her.
I turned to watch Fitz-Simmons in the lab, working on some sort of laser or whatever it was. Fitz caught me staring and winked at me with a goofy smile before going back to his work.
“I’m sure Fitz-Simmon’s supervising officer didn’t make them do this muscle stuff.” She hit the bag with both hands.
“You said you wanted to be a field agent, like Coulson.” Grant shrugged. “But, if you’d like to switch disciplines…” He nodded toward Fitz-Simmons, still hard at work in the lab, then looked at me.
Is she being serious?
I gave her a once-over and smiled at Grant.
Let me take care of it.
“Vi, what did your SO make you do when you were in training for psych?” Grant looked at me with eyebrows raised and a smile on his face.
“Psychoanalytics, fill-ins for the DSM-5, brain parts, ethics… I can keep going. Hey Simmons. What did your SO give you guys for morning drills?” I called out to her from my spot against the wall.
“Oh! Atomistic attribute drills. Yeah, we’d name the mechanical, chemical, thermal-” She spouted.
Skye rolled her eyes at me and threw a lazy punch.
“The electrical properties of materials.” Fitz finished.
“Okay, okay, they made your point.”
“There will come a moment where you have to commit to this or bail.” Grant moved around the bag to hold it for her. “Every field agent has a defining moment. Ask Coulson. When you have to make the hard call to either dedicate yourself to this or to curl up in a ball and run.”
“How can you run if you’re curled up in a ball?” Skye gestured before going back to throwing punches.
“It’s my job as your SO to make sure you don’t die before then. Come on.” He fixed her hands and patted the bag again.
“So what was yours, Agent Ward?” She asked him.
“Ten minutes.” He dodged the question.
“Your defining moment?”
He ignored her.
“Come on, tell me. I wanna know. I could get Coulson to give you some of that truth serum. You could spill your little heart to me all over again.” She smiled.
“You mean my level one overshare that miraculously got you to cooperate? I hate to tell you this, rookie, but we don’t have a truth serum.”
“Changing course, briefing in three. Shield 6-1-6 with new orders, set for Colorado air field north.” May came over the comms.
“Ah, looks like we’re on the move.” Fitz pulled his lab coat off and hung it in the corner before coming to my side and taking my hand, leading the way up the stairs.
We settled on the couches in the main room, sprawled out as Coulson came through the hallway. Fitz pulled me into his side and I swung my leg over his, comfortable in his grip.
“A few minutes ago, a S.H.I.E.L.D. transport was attacked while carrying a priority red protected asset off route 76 near Sterling.”
“Priority red?” Jemma asked, and Grant let out a low whistle as he sat on the armchair next to Fitz and I.
“The asset was Canadian physicist Dr. Franklin Hall, known for his work-”
“Oh no! Not Frank!” Jemma gasped.
Fitz leaned forward, a sad expression on his face, “Dr. Hall? He was our chemical kinetics advisor our second year.”
“Yeah, he’s so enthusiastic about science, we just adored him!” Jemma sighed. “We can rescue him, can’t we?”
“He’s one of ours. We’re gonna try.” Coulson nodded.
“And the attackers?” Grant asked.
“Invisible.” Coulson walked off.
“Wait. Invisible? Cool!” Skye laughed, and Grant shot her a look. “But terrible.” She cleared her throat.
                                                             ***
“Dr. Hall was an asset?” Skye questioned as we walked down the road, squinting in the dark.
“One of a few select scientists S.H.I.E.L.D. has been protecting, people our enemies would love to get their hands on. We keep them hidden, we keep them on the move.” Coulson explained.
“Which is why Fitz and I were so lucky to have him.” Jemma spoke from the other end of the line, next to Fitz.
May, in the middle, stayed silent as usual. Grant and I exchanged a few looks, but he was soon focused on observing the street we were walking along for any potential threats.
“We don’t have him anymore.” Coulson grunted out.
“And what does priority red mean?” Skye asked again.
“It means security should have been…” he trailed off as we saw an SUV flipped over onto the side of the road. “Heavy.”
A fox scurried out from the bushes and to the road. Fitz jumped and Grant’s hand flew to his gun. I looked over to see the fox with blood stains on its white snout. I looked up to Grant again. His grimace matched mine.
Well, that’s just wonderful.
                                                            ***
“It was pretty damn scary, and I don’t spook easily, boss.” Agent Mack was the only one left alive, and even he was pretty banged up.
May had gone with him to ask questions while Fitz-Simmons did their usual rounds of inspection with Skye tagging along. Grant was surveying lord knows what and I stood off to May’s side, picking up cues from Agent Mack that he didn’t even realize he was giving off.
“Nothing in the air from above?” May asked.
“Nothing over our shoulder.” He shook his head, “But what’s scary is they knew our route. They were waiting for us.”
“Are you saying they were working with somebody inside S.H.I.E.L.D.?” I took a step closer to the van he was sitting in.
“Sorry to say.” He shrugged. “It had to be.”
“Fitz, what am I seeing here?” Jemma shouted, causing the turning of heads.
“Well, I’m not wearing the full-spectrum goggles I designed, so no clue.” He chuckled, walking over to her with his tablet in his hands.
Coulson gave me a nod of his head and I followed them, rolling my eyes with a smile at Fitz’s nerd speak.
“Let me have a look. Come on.” He held his hand out for the goggles.
“Whoa, whoa, wait! Wait, no! Don’t move.” She ordered, holding her hands out to stop him.
Skye stopped immediately, but Fitz, as always, was clumsy and almost took another step forward. I grabbed him by the back of the shirt and pulled him backward.
“Wait a second.” Jemma whispered, kneeling to throw a fistful of dirt and gravel into the air.
It swirled, like a mini tornado.
“What the hell?” Skye took a step back.
“I think the electro-static field scanner activated some… thing.” She smiled.
A rock flew loose from the air pattern, flinging itself at us. I felt a hand on my head and I was forced to go down faster than I could duck myself. Fitz let out a yelp and Grant shoved me half behind him, staring at the thing with squinted eyes.
“Okay, can we deactivate it?” Coulson asked. “Now?”
She hit a few buttons on her tablet, and the swirl only seemed to gain an angry conscious, throwing more things at us. I ducked behind my brother, pulling Skye down with me. Fitz let out a second yelp before barking something about density at Jemma.
“I tried, Fitz!” She shouted, handing him the control.
I pushed out from behind my brother and tugged Fitz away from the swirl as he fumbled with the remote. I felt a thunk against my head and winced.
“Fitz!” May raised her voice.
He hit another two buttons before the remote shorted out and the swirling pieces dropped to the floor. Jemma bent down to pick up a twisted looking piece of metal and glass with a pair of tweezers, dropping it in Coulson’s outstretched hand.
“That did all this.”
“What is that?” Skye asked.
Coulson stared at it, rolling it in his hand. “Something big.”
                                                            ***
We stood in a ring around the lab table, with the exception of Grant, who had told me what he was off to do, but I hadn’t listened. Fitz had the object in some sort of a microscope, with lit up goggles on his head.
“Either someone cracked our comm system, or Dr. Hall’s movements leaked from inside S.H.I.E.L.D..” Coulson was quiet.
“You really think we have a mole?” May asked him.
Jemma and I stood at the side of the table, watching as Fitz worked.
“I think you should go through the communication logs, rule it out.” He said with his hands crossed neatly. “We’ll work the tractor tread that we found on the scene.”
“I can do that.” Skye popped up. “Instead of pull-ups. I can upload an image of the tread pattern, check to see if there’s any sort of-”
“Already done.” Grant popped back in.
Right, he had gone to do that.
“Matched it to a 2010 model. Found a list of purchases within a 500-mile radius, narrowed it down to those with priors, financial troubles, or propensity for risk-taking.” He set it up to show on the computer.
“Three suspects.” He pointed as the pictures appeared.
“Who may have sold their construction equipment to the kidnappers.” Coulson’s arms were now crossed. “We’ll ask.”
Grant nodded and pulled the images off the screen. He turned to look at me over his shoulder, and I followed him out of the lab.
“You feeling any better? How’s your leg?” He looked down, slowing his step.
“It’s fine. You don’t have to slow down for me.” I scoffed, secretly grateful that he hadn’t forced me to trot up the stairs.
“I know. There’s a lot of things I don’t have to do.” He sat down at the bar. “So. Give me a runthrough. Why would someone kidnap a physicist?”
I hoisted myself to sit on the counter and grinned. “Maybe their kid needed tutoring?”
Grant rolled his eyes and pushed at my knee with his foot, essentially kicking me. “I don’t remember you being this joke-y before.”
I laughed. “I use humor to mask my emotions now. Ya know, like an adult.”
“Okay, okay. But for real. Why would someone kidnap a S.H.I.E.L.D. protected physicist? What good does a physicist even do?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Physics is actually pretty cool, you people just don’t think it is. Physics covers a lot. My best guess within reason? Some evil rich person has a half-hacked plan to take over the world but needs a professional to help him seal the deal.” I shrugged.
Grant sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I hate the fact that that sounds like a valid, logical, reason.”
I laughed. “Well, we do work for S.H.I.E.L.D..”
“Yeah, okay. But I’ll bet you fifty dollars it’s some weird organization and not someone rich.” Grant snorted.
“You sure you wanna bet on that?” I grinned again.
                                                            ***
“I just wanna know who paid you.” Coulson asked calmly as Grant and I crept around Lola, crouched.
The man paused, then yanked a gun out. “Paid me enough not to answer questions like that.” He aimed at Coulson.
Grant gave me a glance over my shoulder before moving, pulling the gun from the man’s hand and him along with it. I ran to grab the horse by the reigns, trying to calm it. The man landed on his back with a grunt, hands up as Grant pointed the gun at his head.
“Feels like the old west.” He turned to me with a faint smile as Coulson stepped closer to speak to the man again.
“They gave me money for my equipment, that’s all. I never saw a face. I never heard a name.” He had his hands up, eyes darting between Coulson and Grant.
“And how did you receive this money? They write you a check?”
The man sighed and pointed to the side pouch on the horse’s saddle. Grant looked at me and jerked his head in that direction. I patted the horse’s neck before moving over to open the bag, which was filled with gold bars.
“Paid you in gold?” Coulson picked a bar up.
I looked at Grant. “Now it really feels like the old west.”
                                                            ***
“It looks like this because it’s a doré bar. It means it was made in a mine rather than a refinery. It’s only about 92% pure, the cowboy got cheated a bit.” Jemma explained.
“Can you determine a mine based off the impurities?” Coulson asked.
“Oh, yeah, we’ve done that already.” Fitz went to the computer. “It’s from the dacey mine in Tanzania, which is owned by-”
“Quinn Worldwide.” I came to his side as I cut him off, glancing at Coulson.
“I’m sure you’ve studied the CEO in your chemical engineering classes or saw him on the cover of Forbes. Ian Quinn.” Coulson sighed and walked out of the lab, up to the steps.
“He’s a sociopath.” I scoffed.
“I mean…” Jemma tried to put her positive twist on it, but to no avail.
“Who is?” Grant came into the lab, looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.
“Ian Quinn.” I said as Fitz pulled up a picture and turned his monitor so Grant could see. “Spoiled, bratty, millionaire evil genius.” I quirked an eyebrow.
Grant sighed deeply and pulled out his wallet, handing me two twenties and a ten. I pocketed them with a smile, giving him a half-hug as a thanks before going upstairs with Coulson.
                                                            ***
“Darlin’, come downstairs. I’ve got a feeling you might wanna hear this.” Fitz came over the comms in our room and I rolled over in the bed, dropping my book onto my nightstand as I hit the button to answer.
“Are you sure I’m gonna wanna hear about it? I’m reading.”
“Well…” He paused and I could hear him clear his throat. “It’s a scientific breakthrough, darlin’.”
He knew he had me then. Any breakthrough was amazing, whether it was scientific or psychological or whatever else. I pulled one a pair of fuzzy socks and all but bolted down the stairs to the lab.
“Jeez, what’s the rush?” Skye asked, coming down the steps after me.
“Scientific breakthrough, come on.” I grabbed her hand and tugged.
“What is it, you guys?” I popped up to sit on the counter in front of the holotable, resting my chin on Fitz’s shoulder.
“Gravitonium.” He put his hands on his hips.
“What?” Skye asked, unimpressed.
“Holy shit.” I mumbled, wrapping my arms around one of his and leaning forward.
“It’s an extremely rare high-atomic numbered element.” He explained.
“It powers the device.” Jemma continued. “It’s so extremely rare that most people didn’t believe it existed, much less the theory that an isolated positive charge-”
“Yeah, would turn the flow from isotropic-” Fitz continued.
“Guys.” Skye interrupted them. “High school dropout here.”
Fitz looked at me, his hand frozen and his face confused. He didn’t know how to put many things into simple terms. I patted his back and tried to give him a guideline.
“How does the device work again?”
“Well, gravitonium distorts gravity fields within itself, causing an undulating, amorphous shape.” Jemma tried to explain, as Fitz was still stuck.
“Which causes these, um…” He pointed, trying to find an easy word. “Wiggly bits here! But when an electric current is applied,” he motioned with his fingers and I felt a goofy smile grow on my face. “The gravitonium solidifies. And those gravity fields erupt,” he continued to mime it and I held back my laughs. “Randomly changing the rules of gravity around it.”
Skye looked at me and I felt myself turn pink, trying again not to burst out laughing. Fitz gave my leg a squeeze before running over to the other side of the lab, now completely invested in his explanation.
“Well, so now you can imagine what would happen to a big rig at 100 kilometers per hour.” He rushed to sit at his computer, and then froze up a bit. “Or, well, you could just remember, ‘cause we saw it already, didn’t we?”
I walked over as he picked at his lips and then bit his nails as Jemma began to speak. I gently pulled his hand away from his mouth, linking his fingers through mine. He smiled at me softly and pulled our hands back to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.
“Come here.” He tugged me up to sit on his thighs with my side to his chest as he brought his arms around my middle and started to type.
I looked over to Skye, who winked at me.
“Guess which genius published every theory about gravitonium and possible applications years ago?” Jemma asked.
“Dr. Franklin Hall.” Skye answered.
“Correct.” Fitz-Simmons nodded.
“And Dr. Hall attended the University of Cambridge at the same time as Ian Quinn.” I looked at the files Fitz had pulled up on the computer.
“Violet, I think you might be off on this. Quinn’s a notoriously good guy.” Skye shook her head. “His charity endowment’s something like eight billion dollars.”
“Yeah, with money made from leeching the Earth of its resources. Looks like he’s dug up another.” Jemma scoffed.
“He’s textbook, Skye. Tries to give himself a good public image when in reality, dude’s only watching his own back.” I called without turning back to her.
“That’s my girl.” Fitz mumbled under his breath, still focused on the screen as one hand pulled mine up and he kissed it again.
                                                            ***
“The man’s a prisoner, and it’s up to us to get him out!” Coulson was growing more frustrated by the minute.
“We’ve checked the specs. There’s no way into Quinn’s compound without a large S.H.I.E.L.D. strike force, or a man inside. He’s got neodymium laser fencing surrounding the property.” Grant scoffed.
“They’ll never allow a strike force into Malta.” I shook my head. “Plus, this weekend, Quinn Worldwide’s got its annual shareholders gathering. We’d risk global outrage. But…” I trailed off, looking to Grant.
Not if we go it by ourselves.
He sighed, but nobody else seemed to understand the nonverbality. Coulson picked up the slack for them.
“If we go in alone, S.H.I.E.L.D. can disavow us, claim ignorance.”
“Without a man inside, it’s impossible, unless you’re immune to pulse laser emissions.” May leaned against the table.
Fitz sighed from next to me and Jemma held her hands against her neck, her nervous tic. Fitz stood straight, and I already knew what was coming, but the amusement it would provide outweighed my desire to stop him in his tracks.
“If we had a monkey, we could get in.”
“Ah, Fitz!” Jemma seemed annoyed.
“If we had a small monkey, he could slip through the sensors and disable the fence’s power source with his adorable little hands.” Fitz put his hands up.
I bit back a smile as Grant looked at me with a face. I grabbed Fitz’s arm and pulled him tight against my side, smiling up at him.
“Now’s not the time, angel face.” I whispered.
“I could go in.” Skye had walked in at some point, and was now leaning nonchalantly against the wall, phone in hand.
“Drop me in the hills outside of Valletta. I’ll spend a few weeks establishing a cover, gathering intel-”
“We don’t have the time, Grant.” I cut him off, shaking my head.
“And to restate, any agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. caught on Maltese soil can be shot to death with bullets- legally.” Jemma gestured.
“Not me.” Skye spoke again. “I could go in.” She now took a step forward.
“Skye, this is serious.” Grant brushed her off.
“No.” I stopped him. “She’s right. She’s not an agent.” I looked to Coulson, who seemed to agree.
“This isn’t something the Rising Tide can hack, Skye.” Grant said with a layer of disgust in his tone.
“Did you hear the deadly lasers part?” Fitz looked from her to me, hands on his head. “Without a brave monkey-” I clapped a hand over his mouth and looked to Skye, a signal for her to explain.
“You said you could go in with a man inside.” She shrugged.
“And you wanna be that man?” May’s eyebrows were raised.
“Fitz-Simmons loved the guy, and he needs help. They could be torturing him. Or worse, making him do strength-training.” She glared at Grant.
“She’s a hacker, she can easily apply that to playing a role.” I rolled my eyes at him, sensing his upcoming protests.
“But she doesn’t have the background or clearance or experience with any of this.” He turned away from me and walked toward her, growing increasingly agitated.
“I know.” She put her phone up. “But I’ve got an invitation. Well, technically, it’s an evite.” She looked to me with a smile.
I didn’t bother to hold back my grin. She was something, that was for sure. I trusted she could do it, and if anything went wrong, Grant and I would figure out a way to pull her out if necessary. Grant looked at me with a sigh.
This is a bad idea.
I shrugged.
It’s the only one we have.
And although I wouldn’t admit it, I much preferred this to him going undercover.
                                                            ***
“Grant!” I caught him coming out of Coulson’s office, fuming.
He turned to me. “It’s a bad idea. Actually, no” he began to gesture wildly, “it’s not just a bad idea, it’s the worst idea! She’s gonna get herself killed! She doesn’t know what she’s doing! And then what? We’re back at square one with one of our people down?”
“Hey.” I grabbed him by the wrist and pulled his arm down. “First of all, breathe. It’s gonna be fine. And secondly, we have a few days. You’re her SO.”
“Again. First on paper, but you’re on there too.”
I ignored him. “Keep training her. Get her ready physically, I’ll worry about getting her mind in the right state. We’ve tag-teamed before, let’s just do it again.” I looked up, eyebrows raised in the way Jemma always said was my ‘mom face’.
“Yeah, we’ve tag-teamed against a group of rebels shooting at us. Are you sure we can tag-team her?” He crossed his arms across his chest.
I threw my head back with an exaggerated groan and rolled my eyes. “Grant. We’ve tag-teamed Christian before. I think we can handle a hacker.”
I knew mentioning our older brother would be a risk, and I watched as his face changed and he became a few shades lighter. But it worked, because he was soon nodding and meeting my eyes.
“Let’s do it. I’ll head downstairs to do muscle memories. Come with, sit and watch. Let your little psych brain work some stuff out.” He held his hand out for mine and I stared for a second.
I couldn’t remember the last time Grant had held my hand. I knew that we always did when we were younger, because our family spent all our time out of the house and on trips, and Grant was the only one who had seemed to care that I didn’t get split up.
“Hey.” He whispered, leaning down to meet my eyes. “You’re okay.” He nodded, flexing his fingers.
I snapped out of it with a nod, slipping my hand into his and letting him lead the way down to the garage.
                                                            ***
“Now, again, slowly, what’s first?” Grant held the unloaded gun level with Skye’s chest as they went over the maneuver once more.
She gripped his wrist and pushed it up, twirling under his arm and pressing herself into his chest, the gun still in his hand but under her control.
“And then?” Grant followed up.
She paused and I shifted on the metal steps, trying to find some sense of comfort. This had been going on for an hour, and I was surprised that Grant hadn’t snapped by now. My neck ached, my hips were burning, and my leg was throbbing. This was the last day we had to train her. Mentally, she was ready. But that was worth nothing if she couldn’t evade getting shot.
“Then things are moving too quickly. I’m a proper Southern girl-”
I watched Grant throw his head back with an eye roll that looked like it hurt as she pulled on an accent.
“You’ll make me untidy.”
“Twist the thumb, palm the barrel.” He moved his hands over hers to repeat the motions, a bit harshly.
“Ow.” She winced, taking her hand back and shaking it.
“You’re gonna die and leave us hanging out to dry, you know that?” He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “You’re going in with no self-defense skills-”
“I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” She cut him off, crossing her arms.
“That isn’t enough. You need muscle memory, fundamentals, the tools to turn yourself-”
“Into a whole bag of tools?” She cut him off.
“Okay Skye, how did you learn computer science if you didn’t fully commit to it?” I asked, trying to find a better approach on teaching her.
“C.S. comes naturally to me. I’m sorry I’m not naturally whatever he is.” She pointed at Grant with a grunt.
He looked at me, neck snapping like it was broken.
What the fucking hell?
I returned the look, trying to ease his tension.
It’s okay. Calm down, and explain it. Don’t lose your head.
The air tensed, and I watched Grant’s fist curl. One mention of our childhood was enough to last a few months. Twice in one week was a major overload.
“You think this came naturally?” He stood straighter, shoulders squared as he took a predatory step toward her. “I had a brother who beat the crap out of me- and Violet. For nothing, for eating a piece of his birthday cake. I had to learn to protect us. The way I am trying to protect you. That was my moment. You asked.” He was towering over her now, and I could feel what he was feeling.
Anger, contempt, sadness, fear, every other negative emotion that you could possibly name. I watched as Skye slouched a little, looking from him to me and then at the floor.
“Sorry.” She looked up again. “Didn’t mean to push. But… I did manage to take this.” She pulled the gun up with a smile.
Grant took it back, his emotions gone and the heartless soldier back at play. “Getting the gun is one thing. Pulling the trigger- that is another.” He put the gun back to her chest. “Now, again, slowly, what’s first?”
                                                            ***
“Skye will walk in the front door.” Coulson paced, trying to keep awake.
It was six in the morning, and none of us had gotten nearly enough sleep. I was leaning back against Fitz, who had his arm around me as he breathed deeply. May and Jemma seemed wide-awake, and Grant was taking a mental nap in the corner, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
“The only external access point to Quinn’s underground facility is from a beach cove. A two-man extraction team could slip in there, but it’s not easy. Fitz-Simmons.” He handed it over to them and Fitz begrudgingly kissed my cheek before leaving my side and joining Jemma at the screen.
“The perimeter is surrounded by a twenty foot high neodymium laser grid. Touch it, and you’re toast.” He looked at me as he spoke, as if he were also struggling to stay awake.
“Dead toast. The only way to disable the grid is to crack the system and trigger a reboot. This would give the team three seconds to cross. Of course, Quinn’s too smart to allow any wireless access on his property.” Coulson walked through it.
“That’s where I come in.” Skye nodded.
“Yes.” Jemma opened the black case on the table.
I couldn’t see with everyone standing around it, but Fitz grabbed my hand and pulled me in front of him, squeezing my shoulders after I padded over.
“Working compact- holds up under X-ray.”
“Desert rose. To match your complexion.” Fitz pointed at the small mirror. “But oh, what’s this?” He picked it up, slinging his arms over my shoulders so I wouldn’t have to switch spots again. “A readout, okay? Turns green if you’re in close enough proximity to a computer to gain wireless access.”
“When it does, you just drop this nearby and walk out. We’ll do the rest. Easy as pie.” Jemma smiled as Fitz closed the mirror.
“Or it will be. If you stick to the plan.” Grant spoke for the first time since we had gathered in the conference room to review the plan.
“Got it. Plan, green, drop, walk… pie.” Skye smiled.
Fitz handed her the mirror and she took it with a small thank you, flipping it around in her hands as Jemma explained something to her. Fitz turned me around and pulled me to lean against him, arms over my shoulders as I let my head fall into its spot against his neck.
“Alright team. Suit up.”
                                                            ***
“Wife’s name is Nadrah.” May filled in the gap for Skye, swiping around on the holotable.
“Sir, are you sure you don’t want me to go in? Grant and I work really well together, and that way you don’t have to go out into the field.” I tried to reason with Coulson, who was gathering his gear.
“I’m sure, Violet. You stay here, keep Fitz-Simmons calm. You know they panic in intense situations. And don’t worry. I’ll keep your brother safe.” He patted my shoulder with a smile before brushing past me.
I sighed and looked up to the ceiling. Fitz walked in, handing me a bowl of popcorn and a water bottle. He gave me puppy eyes and I followed him to the holotable, where May was still directing Skye.
“How’s she doing?” Fitz whispered before shoving popcorn into his mouth.
“She’s good.” Both Jemma and May whispered back.
“I could get used to this, people. It’s like Siri if it worked.” Skye spoke. “Skipper to Bravo. I’ve got eyes on Top Dog. The Eagle is landing on it.”
We all looked at each other, and May let a small smile twitch past her lips despite her eye roll. I giggled and hopped up to sit on the table.
“What are you doing?” Jemma asked.
“Uh, sorry, I-I dunno. I see Quinn, I’m gonna go talk to him.”
Jemma smiled hopefully and May remained stoic. Fitz offered me popcorn. I only opened my mouth, letting him throw the pieces in and laughing when he missed horribly.
We heard Skye laugh over her comm. “Yeah, right? Ian Quinn. I’m your last-minute party crasher. Skye.”
“Oh. Wow.” We could hear Quinn too, albeit faintly. “Great to meet you. Um, this is Skye, a member of the Rising Tide. They’re a group of hackers. They’ve gotten some pretty big secrets out to the public.”
“I prefer hacktivist. I’m glad you’ve heard of our site.”
“I read it. We think very much alike. More freedom of information, less government infringing on everyone’s rights. I’m a fan.”
I rolled my eyes and grabbed at Fitz’s tie, pulling him to stand between my legs so I could lean against him.
“That explains the invite. This is a tough party to get into.”
“Not as hard to get into as the encrypted back channel you contacted us through to request the invite.” His tone was annoying, and he was trying to flirt with her.
“That’s sort of where I live.” I heard Skye force a laugh.
“You’ve got to show me how you did that- I mean, if you sign on.”
She paused. “Sign what, now?”
“I’ve been known to turn a few black hats into white hats, not just for vulnerability analysis, but for very creative thinking.”
Skye hesitated and I rolled my eyes again, thumping my head against Fitz’s shoulder. He only rubbed my back.
“A-are you offering me a job?”
“Well I didn’t invite you here for your pretty face. I didn’t know you had a pretty face.”
I looked over my shoulder at May, who only shook her head and mirrored my eye roll. Fitz caught my look and tutted at me, pulling me back against him and kissing the top of my head.
“Yes, I wanna hire you, before someone else snatches you up.”
“That seemed to go well.” May noted.
“Yeah. It did.” She breathed out, and her tone seemed different, but I was tired beyond belief.
Grant and I had spent the entire night awake, sparring to try and blow off steam. The mention of our older brother twice in three nights had shaken us both to our cores, and then we were awake and angry. We had gone until three in the morning, at which point I realized the time and sent him to bed because he had to be alert to be the extraction tomorrow. I had spent another two hours on the punching bag. At that point, Fitz came downstairs with pajamas and sleepy eyes, looking for me. We hopped in the shower together because he was scared I’d pass out and drown if I were by myself, and I fell asleep afterward, with only half an hour left until we had to be up to start our day all over again.
The comm stuck in my ear crackled to life, and I was relieved to hear Grant on the other end.
“Hey Vi. We’re here. Keep you updated.”
“Sounds good, bubs.” I mumbled back.
I could hear Coulson over the comms, saying something about Grant’s personality setting Dr. Hall on edge. I scoffed a laugh and turned my head into Fitz’s shoulder.
“It’s locked, but there’s no lock.” I heard Skye.
Fitz grabbed another handful of popcorn. “Eh, check for a keypad.”
“Nothing. What, you can hack a keypad?”
“No, not over the phone.” He mumbled, bringing the bowl of popcorn over my shoulder and placing it in my lap.
“Is there a reception desk?” May asked.
“Okay, yeah. Well now what do I do?”
“What are you trying to do?” Quinn’s voice came over her comm and we froze.
“Just… looking for a pen,” she laughed nervously. “Here we go. Gotta write down all those good ideas, you know what I mean? Of course you know what I mean, you probably have like ten pens for all your ideas…”
“What are you really doing?” His tone escalated.
Skye took a long pause. We stared at each other and I pressed the comm in my ear.
“Grant? She might’ve just been made.”
“Noted.” He grunted back and then was gone as quickly as he had come.
“Alright. I’m busted. I was trying to get a glimpse behind your office doors, see how things really operate.”
“I invite you here as a guest, you treat me like another corrupt institution, looking for trade secrets to leak online. Security-”
“No, no, no, wait. It’s just… with all these la-di-da people, you have to be so guarded, so … careful. What you say. What secrets you reveal. And … I was hoping that you and I… could be honest with one another. If you know what I mean.”
There was another long pause, and then there was a creaking of doors and Skye was back to normal. Fitz had climbed onto the table to sit behind me, forcing me to swing my legs to the other edge of the table. The popcorn was still in my lap, and I was grateful, because that way the warmth of his arms never left my sides.
“My office had less space, more wheels. Wow. A view of the ocean and the pool.”
“Not a bad place to do business.” Quinn flirted back.
“Got the dispatch leaking Hall’s location. User’s an alias.”
“Oh, can you trace the DHCP server-”
May cut Fitz off. “Trace is running, but it’ll take time. How’s our girl?” She asked, referring to Skye.
“I thought she was done for, but she just sweet-talked her way into Quinn’s office.” Jemma exclaimed.
“Grant. She’s good. She’s in.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure, idiot.” I scoffed.
The line clicked off without a response.
“How’d she manage that?” May asked.
I sputtered, shaking my head. Fitz squirmed behind me, using his hands as he spoke.
“She probably just used her, um, uhh…” He stumbled as Jemma and May shot him glares.
I turned to see his hands cupping his chest.
“Uh, her uh… boobs.” He spat out.
I rolled my eyes and got off the table, leaving the bowl in his lap and standing at his side.
“Ugh! That’s the only explana-” Jemma was cut off by static.
I looked down to see Skye’s comm gone. “Shit, the signal’s dead.”
“Fitz, what did you do?” Jemma hit his arm.
“What- I didn’t do anything! She must’ve- oh lord.” He sighed.
May looked at me. “She’s double crossing us.”
I shook my head. “No, no, no, no, no. Stop. We’re not gonna jump to conclusions here, alright? She’s probably just got an idea.” I defended her.
“She’s supposed to stick to the plan!” I forgot my comm was on.
“She’s just offline. We lost audio and vitals.”
“Abort is not an option. But if she’s compromising-”
“She’s still your only way in to get to Dr. Hall. And you’re the only way out. Sit tight.” I rolled my eyes and clicked the comm off.
“Violet. Just think about it. Why else would she turn off her comm?” Fitz asked me, eyes kind.
“She’s got a plan. Just trust me. She’s gotta have a plan.” I clicked my comm back on. “Grant, just keep moving. This doesn’t change anything. I’ll keep you updated.”
He scoffed on the other end. “Since when are you so soft?”
“Can you put aside the bitch-fit for when you come back? Right now you have to focus on getting in and out, okay?” I rolled my eyes.
“Fine. Keep me updated.”
“I told you I would.” I rolled my eyes again, clicking my line off.
I looked around to see Fitz-Simmons and May blinking at me, eyes wide.
“What?”
“I just, uh…” Fitz trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.
“We haven’t ever really seen you like that is all, love.” Jemma offered a sweet smile.
“Your brother’s back and you’re acting different. It’s sort of amusing.” May shrugged, the most truthful.
“Hey, Vi?” Grant’s voice was calm and quiet.
“What’s wrong?” I perked up.
“We’re gonna have to take on this next patrol. Skye better hurry it the hell up or we’re dead. Just thought you should know.” He whispered.
I sighed. “Be careful.”
“Always.” It was followed by a grunt, and then the sounds of an unfair fight.
I sighed and watched as May eyed the holotable nervously. Skye was still offline. A few grunts later, Grant sighed.
“Guys, clocks ticking. Where’s Skye?” Coulson came on.
The holotable clicked, and her compact connected.
“We’re in!” May shouted.
“She’s done it!” Jemma squealed.
“Leo, you’re up.” I took the bowl from him.
“Oh, Mother of all things. Move, move! Move!” He all but shoved May aside, tie flying as he ran.
His fingers danced over the holotable, and his eyes darted around as he licked his lips. He was scared to screw it up.
“Vi, tell Fitz to hurry. They’re onto us.” Grant growled.
“Fitz is going as fast as he can!” I shouted back.
“Fitz!” Coulson called.
“Saying his name repeatedly does not increase productivity!” Jemma yelled, getting them to back off.
“Okay, go!” Fitz jumped.
“Or maybe it does.” Jemma tilted her head.
“Grant! Move, now!” I watched the three second timer on the screen.
“System rebooting in two, one, now!” Fitz counted it off.
There was a grunt and then silence.
“Grant?” The rise and fall of my chest became frantic.
I really hoped my brother hadn’t gotten cut in half by a twenty foot laser fence.
“We’re in.”
I sighed, letting out a breath. May had gone back to her computer, following the trace of the dispatch that had leaked Hall’s location. Fitz pulled me into a hug. I hooked my arms around his middle and buried my face into his shoulder, ignoring the itching of his cardigan against my nose.
“Oh no.” May was louder than usual. “Coulson. The leak came from-”
“Dr. Hall. Yeah, I’m getting that.”
There was a yelp and a grunt, and then Coulson’s comm cut out.
“Grant?”
“I’m here.”
“Coulson’s out. We don’t know what happened. Keep moving, get Skye. We’ll keep you updated. Be careful.”
“Always.”
                                                            ***
“Guys, we need to talk.” Coulson’s voice came over the comms.
“Lost you for a minute.” May sighed. “We’re aware of the problem, sir. Hall wanted Quinn to kidnap him?” She asked as we walked into the lab, where Fitz-Simmons were scrambling about.
“Yeah, why would he do that?” Fitz was disgruntled.
“What is wrong with him?” Jemma was distraught.
“Quinn built a gravity generator. Like the one we found but bigger. Hall knew Quinn would need him to control its raw power, but Hall just wanted to unleash it.”
“The one we found was only two point five centimeters in diameter. It stopped a semi.” Jemma shrugged.
“How big are we talking?” I asked.
“Twelve feet. It’ll definitely take down the entire compound.”
My heart clenched in my chest once more. Skye and Coulson were on there. And more importantly to me, Grant was on there. I had just gotten him back after eleven years. I couldn’t lose him to an element on the periodic table.
“It’ll sink the place!” Jemma was agitated.
“No, it’ll do more than that.” Fitz shook his head, working at something, tucking a screwdriver behind his ear.
“Work a solution. I’ll disconnect the power before things get … crazy.”
He was gone again.
“Vi.”
“What is it?” I asked, relief at hearing my brother’s voice.
“I don’t know where I’m going. I need you to pull up a map and talk me through this. Please.”
I only nodded. “Just a second.” I hit a few buttons on the holotable, bringing up the blueprint of Quinn’s mansion.
I took my comm out and tossed it to Fitz, who set the connection to the same as Coulson’s. Now we could all hear him, and he could hear all of us.
“Alright. This place is massive. Where am I heading?”
“Southwest corner.” May guided him. “Ward. Tell me you’ve got things covered on the ground. I can’t do a damn thing from out here.”
I caught a small gasp and perked up. It had come from Grant. I pulled up his vitals on the tablet next to me and saw that his heart rate went up. Something had happened that made him nervous.
“I’m working on it.” He replied.
We sat in silence, watching as the dot on the map that was Grant moved faster. Coulson’s comm clicked back on, and we could hear a loud whirring and a rumbling.
“... future generations ruined in his wake!” Hall’s voice was agitated.
“Like agents Fitz and Simmons, your former students? I’ve got them in my ear right now, telling me you’re not a bad guy. We could’ve worked with you on this.”
There was a crashing noise, and Fitz tensed in his seat.
“S.H.I.E.L.D.? S.H.I.E.L.D. is just as guilty of the same thing! Experimentation without a thought of consequence! Your search for an unlimited power source brought an alien invasion!”
“Fair point.” Coulson only sighed.
There was another crashing noise, and Coulson’s comm finally gave out. May cursed loudly, and Jemma put her hands back to her neck.
“She’s not here!” Grant screamed.
We paused.
“Grant, the pool.”
“What?”
“There’s a pool by the window. She must’ve jumped. She’s probably out in the front!”
“Are you sure?”
“Grant! We tag-teamed! Stop doubting me and listen!” I groaned, balling my hands in frustration.
He muttered a reply that I ignored. His dot was beelining down the steps and out into the main lot. He must’ve been sprinting. He reached the spot and took a deep breath. I braced myself, knowing what was coming. There were grunts and shouts, and the cracking of bones. Grant winced, but was quick to regain another breath and keep fighting.
When he finished, I could hear his breathing, along with Skye’s, which was even more frantic.
“You hurt? Follow my orders. I’ll get us out of here.” He was gone again.
Coulson’s line came back on, staticky. “Nothing. Fitz-Simmons? I tried to cut the power. It’s still going.”
Fitz-Simmons blurted out too many words at the same time, and the only thing I understood was ‘catalyst’.
“Something to create a chemical reaction in the core.” Jemma explained.
“It’s not too late to do the right thing! Help me find a catalyst-”
“I am doing the right thing. A completely selfless act. I know that history never celebrates what didn’t happen. They’ll call this a-a tragedy. They won’t understand the good I did here.”
“Vi?” Grant came on. “We’ve almost got Coulson.”
“Can you get him out?”
“Not yet. We need another minute or two.”
“You don’t have that long.” Fitz jumped in, looking at me with concern.
“Killing innocent people?”
“Saving millions. We have to live with the choices we make, but sometimes we have to die with them too.”
“I understand. You made a hard call… and now I have to make mine.” Coulson clicked his comm off, but we still heard the gunshots through Grant’s.
“Alright, we’re in.”
                                                            ***
Fitz-Simmons hadn’t taken the news well. Coulson had been the one to explain what happened. He shot the glass, and Dr. Hall got sucked into the gravitonium. He was gone. They were devastated, frustrated, and overall upset. Jemma had made a tea and fallen asleep on the couch, where Grant wordlessly draped a blanket over her and shot me a look when I smiled at him.
Fitz was in the bathroom, showering. He had left the door cracked open, and I got the feeling it was to reassure me that he was okay. The water shut off, and he got dressed rather quickly, coming out of the bathroom in boxers and nothing else. His hair had obviously been towel-dried, and he hadn’t bothered to fix it. He gave me a soft smile as he sat next to me.
“Hi angel face.” I whispered, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.
“I love you.” He mumbled, wrapping me in his arms and dropping his head against my shoulder.
He was exhausted, and I couldn’t blame him. I ran my fingers through his damp hair and wrapped my arm around his shoulders, tracing shapes onto his bare skin.
“I love you too. Why don’t you try to sleep, Leo?” I asked once he pulled back, wiping at his eyes.
“Stay with me?” He gave me puppy eyes and jutted out his bottom lip. I couldn’t tell whether it was intentional or not.
I smiled and leaned forward, grabbing him by the cheeks and pulling him to me so I could kiss his pouty lips. “Always.”
He slid down under the covers and let me get settled against the headboard. I sat with my legs crossed. He rolled over and dropped his head into my lap, laying on his side and pulling the blankets up to his chin. I threaded my hand in his hair, tugging gently at the curls to untangle them. He sighed, content. My hand started to work by itself, long after his hair was close to dry and he was breathing steadily, asleep.
Skye had gone downstairs to work on her punches, and Grant had gone straight for the shower. I sat in the bed, fingers still mindlessly combing through Fitz’s hair. I hadn’t been the one to lose a mentor, and I hadn’t been the one with a gun up to my face, but I was still tired, and now emotionally drained. There was a knock on my door.
“Come in.” I mumbled, eyes focused on a spot on the wall.
“Hey, ducky. How ya doing?”
I shrugged, watching as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“I’ve had better days.”
He nodded. “I’m gonna go check on Skye. Wanna come?”
I nodded, working Fitz’s head off my lap and onto a pillow. I took Grant’s hand the moment he outstretched it. We walked in silence, and it was peaceful. We didn’t have to verbalize what we wanted to say to each other, we just knew what the other was thinking. It was all I’m sorry’s and I love you to death, please don’t forget that’s and I’m glad you’re alive’s. He went down the stairs first, sitting down and letting me lean onto him.
“Where’d you guys grow up?” Skye asked through a grunt.
“Massachusetts, mostly.” I answered.
“A house?” She asked again.
“You didn’t?” Grant cocked his head.
She stopped the bag, holding it steady as she panted. “One house.” She grabbed a water bottle and walked to our side. “The Brody’s. I was nine. Sent me back to St. Agnes after a month. Said I wasn’t a good fit.”
“Foster parents.” Grant deduced. “Your first?”
She scoffed. “My third. I had heard it before, but… this one was different.”
“‘Cause you wanted them to like you.” I spoke in a hushed tone.
She looked up and nodded. “Bad.”
Grant sighed and she looked back down, sniffling. I looked down to my brother. He gave my knee a squeeze.
“I called her mom once… tried it out.” She shrugged and sighed. “Guess it wasn’t a good fit.”
She shook herself off and returned to the bag. “Hoping for something and losing it? Hurts more than never hoping for anything.”
Grant and I exchanged looks.
She needs reassurance that we won’t leave her. She’s got trust issues.
Grant nodded and we got up wordlessly, each putting weight against the bag so she could have a more solid stance.
“We won’t turn our backs.” He spoke first.
“Doesn’t matter.” She took another punch. “I made my choice. I want this.” Another three punches. “Bad.”
“Well, good. Because you fit in. We like you. You’re a buffer, and a smart one.” I smiled, letting Grant put his full weight against the bag so I could take the pressure off my leg.
She looked at me with a grin. “And I know there’s a truth serum.”
Grant and I only looked at each other once again, each laughing.
“Whatever you say, rookie.”
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diegoh4rgreeves · 5 years
Text
The Polaroid
Story Summary: Diego Hargreeves has a new girlfriend who he just recently made love to. She tries to surprise him with a nude Polaroid which ends up getting lost. They spend their afternoon looking for it. They find it at Griddy’s Doughnuts with Diego’s brother, Five, after spotting Klaus with it because Klaus thought it was a joint paper. The couple gets the Polaroid back, and it prompts Diego and reader to have sex at an unlikely place… After sex, the couple cuddle at the academy and fall asleep together.
Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Female Reader
Chapter: 1/1
Word Count: 2,447 words
Warning: Fluff, smut, swearing
A/N: I originally wrote this as an imagine where reader simply gives him the Polaroid and he keeps it. Then I thought this would make a cute dilemma and wanted to make them a realistic couple who love each other and still bicker over things. I hope you all enjoy this. I’m passionate about photography and about Diego, so I wanted to put 2 things I love in a story!
I walk into the bathroom of the gym to check myself in the mirror. I’m wearing a yellow-and-white checkered dress, clipped my bangs to one side, applied red lipstick, and I make sure that my winged black eyeliner was set properly. I give one big smile to the mirror and feel confident in approaching my boyfriend, Diego Hargreeves. He’s going to love this outfit! I usually wear all-black clothing which he also loves. I just thought I’d change it up for today.
I walk out of the bathroom and see him fighting at the boxing rink. Diego Hargreeves is Number 2 of the superhero league, the Umbrella Academy. He’s known as The Kraken. His speciality is in throwing knives. I met him at a punk show when his sister Vanya (Number 7, The White Violin) and he were briefly in a band. I didn’t see him for almost a year after that night. Vanya and I kept in touch and she told me that Diego had an urgent mission the last night of their show. She spent her time learning to play the violin and later teaching it to kids.
I’m a music photographer and took their photos the show before they disbanded. I sent the prints of the photos to Vanya by mail, and we’ve gotten coffee together occasionally. Vanya is cool with her frail looks, and dress shirts and jeans. She’s a nervous person. One time she accidentally poured salt in her coffee. She dared me to drink it. I did. It was nasty. It was that same day she took me over to the academy and introduced me to her siblings. That was how I met Diego again. There was an instant spark. We flirted like it was no one’s business. We talked on the phone for weeks. I came to the gym to watch him and took photos of him in action. Then that evolved to taking photos of each other on unintentional dates. This went on for a few months. Finally, he’s my boyfriend, and I am so happy.
I watch him throw punches and put a guy in a headlock. They’re both groaning as they fight. In between all that, he beams up when he sees me and holds up his hand to indicate a wave at me. I grin at him as acknowledgement to the wave.
I’m especially excited to see Diego today because we made love together for the first time a few nights ago. I took a nude Polaroid of myself and decorated the edges of it with lipstick marks, glued-on rose petals, and an ‘i love u’ written from a red Sharpie. I left it underneath the pillow of his bed in the boiler room of the gym, where he lives.
“Winner!” The ref holds up my boyfriend’s arm. Diego heavily breathes as he holds still with his arm up. There’s slow and light clapping for him. It’s only 11am, so not many people are at the gym right now.
He comes down and immediately walks over to me. He’s sweating and he puts his arm around me. “Hey,” he pecks my cheek. “How was that? Did you like the fight?”
I grin and turn slightly towards him. I place the tips of my fingers on his chest. “Why yes, I did. I think you’ll really know my reaction if you check underneath your pillow soon enough…”
He cocks his eyebrow at me.
“You’ll see what I mean.” I giggle.
He smirks and nods. “Okay then. I guess I’ll check this right now!”
I smirk back and grab his arm to lead the way to his bedroom.
He follows suit. I can feel his pulse still going fast. “You don’t mind if I don’t shower first? I mean…” We’re outside his room now. He leans and whispers, “…You look hella good today. Let me look just as presentable for you.”
I blow raspberries and bend my wrist. “You always look good, Diego. In fact…” I hold the knob to the boiler room. I eye him up and down. “You’re not gonna need your clothes soon anyway.”
“Y/N,” he laughs. “Seriously, what’s underneath my pillow?”
“Just wait for it!” I laugh. “I love leaving you in suspense.”
He growls and twists the doorknob. “It better be your panties…” That actually would have been a great idea… I just show up to the gym in a dress and no underwear on. He would have loved that.
“Well, no,” I respond as we walk into the room. “Just check, Diego!” I stop myself a few steps into the room while he walks over to the bed with curiosity.
He lifts his pillow up. “Hmm.”
I furrow my brows. “What is it?”
“I don’t see anything…” He turns around to me and smirks. “Is it invisible?”
I walk over to his bed and check for the spot I left the Polaroid myself. It’s not there.
“Maybe it fell behind my bed.”
I nod. “Okay. You lift the mattress and I’ll check underneath.” He does as he’s told. I check underneath, and on the floor. Nothing. “What the hell…” I whisper.
“Y/N, just tell me what it was, and we’ll go look for it.” Diego looks at me with concern.
I sigh. “It was… a nude Polaroid… of me.” I look at the ground in shame. Maybe this was a bad idea. Fuck knows where it is now and if some pervert beat Diego to it…
He looks at me in bewilderment. “Oh…” he looks to the side.
I nod. “Mmmhm.”
“Okay… Well… I have no idea where it went!” Diego smirks.
“Neither do I!” I retort. “What the fuck do we do about this, Diego!? You can’t just ask the guys if they saw a nude photo of your girlfriend. They already know what I look like, so it’d be awkward as hell.”
“Why did you even have to take a picture!?” Diego argues. “You’re already in my wank bank.”
“Wank bank!? Who says that anymore?”
He sighs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blame you for this problem. We will find the picture, okay?” He puts a hand on my shoulder. I look away from him out of embarrassment. “Okay, Y/N?”
I reluctantly nod. I don’t really believe that we will. I just hope that it’s in the trash by now and grinded up by a truck.
Diego and split up to go and look for the Polaroid. We checked the rest of the room. We checked the bathroom. We checked the boxing rink. He lied to his boss that he might have left some papers in his office, so he checked there.
“When did you leave the Polaroid?” Diego whispers to me when we’re by the entrance of the gym.
“I came in after a show I did a photo gig for at like 3am. I told your boss I had to leave something for you, so he opened the boiler room for me.”
Diego nods. “Okay… It should have stayed put then.”
I throw my hands out in frustration. “You think!?”
“We should just take a break trying to find this,” Diego sighs. “Tell you what, why don’t I go shower and we can go to Griddy’s for some coffee and doughnuts?”
I sigh. “I am getting pretty hungry, so we may as well do that…”
He puts his arm around me. “We will find it.” He kisses my temple. “I promise.” He heads on over to the changing room of the gym and takes his shower.
Over at Griddy’s, we see Diego’s brother Number Five all by his lonesome. The thing about Number Five is that he was born the same year as all of Diego and his siblings were, but he grew old from time-travelling. He’s a 60-year-old-man in the body of a 13-year-old boy wearing the uniform for The Umbrella Academy. He’s at the wooden counter and having a cup of black coffee. Five isn’t the most social person. Diego still leads me to him as we hold hands and approach him.
Five gives us a look. Even for him, it’s a strange look. “Y/N… Diego…” He gulps. “This is going to be… very awkward, but I have something that belongs to the both of you.” Diego and I give each other a look. Five pulls out a square white sheet of plastic paper. Both Diego and I gasp. Thankfully, Five keeps the Polaroid face-down.
I snatch it away from Five. “How do you have this, and why!?”
“I’m sorry!” Five holds up his hands. “I truly am! I told Klaus that I wasn’t going to give him money for drugs. The others must have said the same thing because he came home bragging to me about finding joint papers in Diego’s room. When he held it up, I saw a breast and I asked Klaus how he found a printed joint… and that was when we both looked at it more carefully and…” Five clears his throat. “Did I tell you how sorry I am?”
I sigh. “It’s okay. You did the right thing giving it back to me. Thank you, Five.”
He nods. “Now you and my brother go get freaky, whatever it is you kids do these days.”
Diego guffaws. “Oh, we will!”
“Diego.” I clench my teeth and nudge him.
“Later, Five!” Diego calls out and leads us out of Griddy’s.
Diego and I stand by the entry of the doughnut shop. “So, we’re not getting doughnuts and coffee anymore?” I point out.
Diego only exclaims over finally having the Polaroid. “Now come on. Let me see it, let me see it!”
“What happened to the wank bank?” I retort.
His excitement goes down to a sigh. “Y/N, did I tell you how sorry I am earlier? I don’t think I did… I’m sorry I was such an asshole over it. I really do appreciate you spicing things up…” He raises his eyebrows at me and smiles. “You were so shy when we first met…” He takes my hand and pecks it, and then he kisses down my arm.
I laugh wholeheartedly. “You are so lame. But I love you.” I smile.
He smiles back at me. He whispers in my ear with a hot breath. “Now let me see it and we can head to the back of Griddy’s.”
I give him a scandalised look. “Diego! That sweet lady who runs the shop will come out here.”
He shrugs. “Isn’t it exciting when it’s forbidden?”
I hesitate before giggling. “I do like that.” I place the tips of my finger to his chest like I did earlier at the gym. He holds up both my hands and kisses them again.
Diego and I walk on over to the back of Griddy’s. His mouth hangs when he looks at the Polaroid and he tells me how much of a dirty little slut I am for going through all this trouble for him.
He stuffs the Polaroid into the pocket of his black pants before he presses our lips hard together. His mouth is cold not long after his shower. I can smell his aftershave and his cologne which he seemed to have sprayed on excessively after his fight. He is so built that I let my hands roam his chest as we passionately kiss. Suddenly he lifts me up and pins me against the brick walls. I wrap my legs around his waist. He pulls down the top of my dress to massage my breasts and licks and sucks them; then he lifts the skirt of my dress up to my stomach. He grinds on my clit outside my panties and he looks at me. “You like that?”
“Mhmm…” I blush and nod.
He smirks. Then he unbuckles his belt and zips down the fly of his pants. He keeps me up and pulls my panties down to one of my ankles. He puts me back in position and slides on the condom he pulled out from his pocket. “Ready?” he checks with me.
I nod.
He stares me down as he slowly and teasingly slides inside me. He’s so big that the first time we made love, I bled. He seems to wanna be careful of that this time. He manages to still make this sexy. I want him to go at least a little faster. Suddenly he does, and I hump back. He smiles as he takes notice of this. I dig my nails to his back and call out his name. I forget where I am suddenly, and I start chasing my high. He’s so big yet I feel like I’ve adjusted to him already. He groans and tilts his head back as he thrusts faster and harder. He calls out my name as quietly as he can in this public area. I feel like we’re provoking each other, and it feels so good.
I got so into this that I suddenly tense up inside him and squirt. I tilt my head and moan as I let this feeling last. I hear him groan and then he pulls out. He kneels me down by him and tells me to open my mouth. I do as he says, and I shove him in. I move my mouth up and down him and moan. He calls out yes and lets out some groans before he lets out a big load which I struggle on swallowing all of. “Yes, princess. Thank you, princess,” he sighs.
Then he looks down at me. I look up at him. And we giggle profusely.
Diego and I spend the rest of the day at the academy. We are in his childhood bedroom. It’s small and dingy inside the old mansion. The walls are painted an army green colour and all his posters cover up some of the cracks on the wall. The floors are dark brown and wooden. His bed is plushy, and the fan in his room gets us to snuggle underneath his covers.
He is so warm. I try to avoid falling asleep on him. He points out me being sleepy and that it’s late anyway. “Would you like to stay over?”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “Are you not going back to the gym?”
He blows raspberries. “Not that dump. I wanna spend time with my girlfriend tonight… if she would like to spend time with me.”
“Awww,” I giggle. I kiss the tip of his nose. “It would be my pleasure.”
He grins. “Great.” He pulls me back into his chest. I hold him back and close my eyes with the comfort of getting to spend even more time with him.
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niyascribes · 5 years
Text
darling street (four)
summary: When Bucky has an anxiety attack at a party he finds refuge in the roommate of the host party. 
information: A spy academy/college AU WOC, honestly don’t know if something bad happened
a/n: this chapter is shit  
-masterlist| part one/ part two/ part three/ part four/ part five
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 Do you ever make a decision that you thought was good at first, like choosing my advanced combat offensive class at 5‘o clock in the morning? I let out a small groan before crawling out of my bed. I take a quick military shower before getting dressed in leggings and my heavy duty sports bra. I swipe some deodorant under my arms before putting on my Nike windbreaker and I lace up my sneakers. I put my hair into a high ponytail before slinging my duffel bag around my chest. I grab my keys walking out the door. I take a deep breath before starting my run to my class 5 miles away. I listen to my feet hitting the pavement rhythmically. Maybe I should’ve stretched before starting my run, I already feel the sting of my calves shooting up my legs. I feel the stairs of other Brooklyn natives, but I don’t know if it’s because of my appearance or because I’m bolting down the street at 4:o0 in the morning. I make it to my class way before 5 o’clock, I get there at 4:30 way before the other students. I’m greeted by my professor Maria, who’s setting up for class. “Tommy, glad you’re early we need to talk.” She says dropping the rope in her arms on the ground. I drop my duffel on the floor stretching out my shoulders. “About what?”I asked cocking an eyebrow and stretching my legs. “I’m dropping you from all of my classes.” She says straight forward walking pasted my shocked and angered body. “I’m done training you. You trained all summer,” she pauses before smirking “and you put the principal in a headlock.” She says pulling her lips into a cocky grin, while I bashfully look down at the ropes “So, I think you got all your credits.” She says turning to the supply closet. “So, that’s it I get dropped from this class. You know I’m only taking one other class what am I suppose to do?” I asked placing my hands on my hip. “Intern at S.H.E.I.L D,” She answers quick knowing that’s not what I wanna do. I’m going to be staying behind the scenes only letting them call me when needed, but she countered quickly “Or could teach beginner combat class with one of my hot students,” She suggests wiggling her eyebrows at me while I grimace at her calling one of her students hot. “He’s your type.” She whispers. I suck in some air letting it fill my cheeks then let out a hiss “Nah, I’ll pass.” I say grabbing my bag off the floor turning around walking towards the door. “You’ll get paid!” She adds on quickly which makes me stop abruptly and whip my body around to face her. I etched a smile on my face “When do I start?” I question. She smiles and takes a look at her watch. She lets out a hum “In 15 minutes next door, room A356.” My eyes widen at the sudden news “Have fun.” Maria teases. I roll my eyes walking out. I walk down the corridor to the next room. I open the brown door to see the person that’s been haunting my thoughts for the entire weekend. “You following me sweetheart?” Bucky asks with a smirk. I tense up and shake my head “No, why you-” I’m cut off by Maria. “Yes, so I see you’ve met Bucky.” She stands by my side with a smirk on her lips. “No, we know each other,” I say shaking my head looking to the floor. Maria pats me on the shoulder “I leave you two to catch up then.” She smiles giving me a lighting fast wink then leaving us. “You just can’t stay away from me doll,” Bucky states cockily cocking an eyebrow stepping towards me. I let out a laugh looking into his icy blue eyes which causes a shiver to run down my back. I roll my eyes so far they could have been stuck in my head. I scoff crossing my arms “Please I try to stay as far away from you as possible, but you just seem to pop up everywhere. I say with a sickly-sweet smile. He chuckles and steps closer to me “But, it looks like we’re stuck with each other,” He says walking closer and I place my hand on his chest keeping space in-between us, leaving my bitch face on. “And we should play nice.” He says leaning down closer to my ear, giving me a charming smile looking down at me with those baby blues he calls eyes. I return the smile looking up “You don’t have to worry about me playing nice if you just do your job.” I keep the smile on my face. Our staring contest was interrupted by someone walking in “Is this beginner combat?” This small brunet girl asks walking in. Bucky takes one more look at me and addresses her. “Yes, it is. I’m the main trainer Bucky and this is my assistant Tommy,” He says and I scoff at the sound of me being his ‘assistant’. He attention turns to me after I scoff and she looks me up and down before smirking. “I think I’m gonna like this class.” She says and Bucky rolls his eyes while I let out a laugh. ___ “So today we’re going to teach you how to break out of a choke hold.” He says addressing the class. I stand behind Bucky shooting daggers in the back of his head. “S’ easy so, everyone partner up and the larger person will hold the other in a hold.” He says before turning around looking at me with a cheesy smile on his face. I roll my eyes before standing in front of him. He leans down to whisper in my ear “Don’t be shy now,” He rubs my arms with his calloused hands which are currently breaking our into goosebumps from the deepness of his tone. “Fuck off Bucky,” I say with annoyance laced in my voice. He chuckles removing his hands from my skin. He widens his stance which towers over me before he puts me into a soft rear chokehold bringing his front into my back. “How about you explain this one, Tommy.” He says and I can practically hear the smile on his face. I return a smile “My pleasure.” I say sarcastically. I twist my head and grab onto his arm “First you wanna free up your airways, so you can you know breathe.” I say earning a chuckle from Bucky and the class. “Grab on to your attacker's arm if the person is choking you from the left turn your head to the left and do the same if they come from the right. You wanna raise your shoulders and tuck your chin into their elbow, and lean into their hold by bending your knees.” I say before demonstrating quickly. “Now step out with your right foot and hook it around the leg of your attacker leaving you two calf to calf. I say while hooking my leg around Buckys. “Lastly turn out and throw him down,” I say before throwing Bucky off of me he falls to the ground with a soft thud. We let the students try it on each other and everyone in the class had to take down Bucky. While letting the class cool down a male student asks a question. “You two are advanced in spy training, I know that’s not how you take down someone that has you in a hold.” He says laying on the floor. I and Bucky nod “Yeah we add a little flare and if someone tried and choke me they are getting more than pushed on the ground.” I say crossing my arms standing next to Bucky. “Yeah, we’re taught to take the person down silently but effectively,” Bucky adds on with a solid nod at the end of his sentence. Which I nod to also agreeing with him. “Can you show us?” Another student pipes up, which starts a chant in the class of people saying ‘show us’ over and over again. I laugh looking over a Bucky who is shaking his head with a little smile on his face. I nudge him with my elbow “Why not Bucky, and this can go on the record of me beating your ass.” I say wearing a teasing grin. He turns and smiles down at me “You’re on dollface,” He returns the tease. The class erupts in cheers causing me to laugh again. “So I want you to try to put me into a chokehold rather than me breaking out of one.” I suggest-fully demand. He nods “I don’t care because I can beat you in whatever.” Bucky brags keeping the smile on his face. “Let’s go,” I say hyping myself up. Bucky’s first move was for my waist and I doge tapping him on the lower back instead of a punch. “You can hit me doll.” He says as he sets up again as I do. I put my hands up ready to attack. Bucky lands a hit to my side distracting me as he grabs my arm pinning it behind me. I counter with a backward kick to the shins and slamming my head back into his chest to causing him to stagger back. He sets up again “Come on Bucky, you can do better than that.” I taunt tilting my head to the side. I ignore the giddy murmurs from the class and focus. Bucky’s demeanor changed and he took off the jacket he was wearing reviling the sleeve of tattoos covering his arm full of scars. While I was distracted by Bucky’s beefy arms he throws a punch, I barely doge. I quickly kick his legs from under him and straddle his waist quickly. I pin his arms over his head before announcing my win “Pinned,” I say with a smirk on your face Bucky chuckles “I let you win doll, don’t get too cocky.” He says with a smirk. “Of course you did,” I say smirking down at him. Both of us were too engulfed into the moment to hear the holler and cheers of praise from the class. “This is a good time to get off of me, though I do like his position,” Bucky says with the smirk still tight on his face and his eyebrow raised. I scoff and release him. “Class dismissed,” I say once I stand on my feet. The class scurries out of the room leaving me and Bucky. He’s gotten himself off the floor and his arms crossed. “Good fight babydoll.” He says with a smirk before packing up and leaving me there.
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deepdisireslonging · 5 years
Text
Family Found Part 48: WrestleMania
The road is at an end. And for one wrestler, so is their career. But first, the rest of the roster get their chances to reach for glory. Titles are destined to change hands, but which ones?
Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, tiny Sheamus x reader fluff, angst
Word Count: 3830
Note: The ‘Monday’ chapter is also coming out this weekend too, so look for that. And then there will only be one more chapter that is guaranteed to rip your hearts out. Please let me know how you’ve been enjoying, or not, this series with comments, reblogs, or messages on/off anon. Thanks for sticking around this long!
Part 1: Welcome to the Team
Part 47: Resigning
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WrestleMania – April 7, 2019 – Brooklyn, NY
“We have finally arrived at the end of the road. Tonight is WrestleMania!” The crowd was abuzz. Chants for favorites, and the usual random ones, sounded off every few minutes. Most of the seats were filled already because no one wanted to miss a second of the show of the year.
The announce team was preparing for interviews when Charly focused on listening closely to her headset. “Um, guys, we need to break to something going on backstage.”
Camera crew members hurried to catch up to the chaos erupting backstage. Tamina had caught Sarah Logan alone. Pinned into a corner, Sarah had nowhere to go and nothing to do except to receive the attack. Referees rushed onto the scene to break them apart. Just as Tamina was made to walk away, another fight broke out further down the hall.
This time it was Alicia Fox taking her skills to Liv Morgan, who was being held back by Ruby Riott. “Let me go,” Alicia shouted. “I’m not done with her! Viva la Alicia and Mickie!” She was still being dragged away when the cameras flipped back to the pre-show table.
Newly arrived, Bayley and Sasha Banks were snickering at the destruction. David Otunga was flabbergasted. “You don’t seem surprised to see all this. Care to explain?”
Sasha giggled and shared a look with her tag partner. “Of course we aren’t surprised. If anything, that was the plan. Our title match tonight is an open challenge. But we,” she motioned between herself and Bayley, “won’t know who it is until the bell rings. Anybody could challenge us up to that moment.”
“You see,” Bayley added, “it’s no secret that Sasha and I haven’t always gotten along. All this year we have done our best to rip each other to shreds to find out who is the better woman. We put that aside so we could win the first ever Raw Women’s Tag Team Championships, and we’re not letting them go until the rest of the locker room shows us what, or who, they’re willing to rip apart to take these from us.”
With a nod, Sasha agreed. Sorta. “Not that it’s going to happen tonight, or any time soon. If any of those ladies think they can take our championships away on the grandest stage of them all, they’ve got another thing coming.”
The champions left, leaving the announce team to hurry and get their pre-show opinions in order.
***
The first official match was the Andre the Giant Battle Royal. All of the participating wrestlers were in the ring, and at the bell, they each found an opponent. Several men flipped over the ropes, and a couple under them. It took about forty-five minutes to make it down to the final five. It was Mojo Rawley, EC3, Jeff Hardy, R-Truth, and Cesaro.
After a few more minutes, it was down to Mojo and Cesaro. The Swiss Cyborg was just going over the ropes when the missing wrestlers appeared from under the ring. The rough hype came to a standstill as he recognized his old partner and the man with the longest losing streak. Zack Ryder kept a close eye on him as Curt Hawkins followed him into the ring. It was two versus one, but Mojo succeeded in throwing both of them off. He tossed Hawkins through the ropes and set to tipping Ryder over the top. Struggling, Ryder was able to wriggle onto the apron.
Curt rolled backing into the ring, restarting the fight. It was Mojo who ended up going over the topes, but he took Ryder with him, despite Curt’s death-grip on his friend’s wrist. Mojo had a grip around Ryder’s waist. If Ryder fell, he fell. And Hawkins was the only lifeline. The duo started to slip backward, Hawkins’s grip failing. Zack smiled. “It’s all you, man.” Then he let go.
The bell rang. Rawley and Rider had been eliminated, and Curt Hawkins had won the battle royal. And, he had ended his streak.
***
Behind you on a screen, Ryder was celebrating with Hawkins in the ring. You were too busy arguing with a flurry of women to watch it. “Ladies, enough! There isn’t time to add another preshow match. As much as I hate that you are fighting backstage, I can’t give you a tornado tag match. Bayley and Sasha’s opponents will just have to bide their time and strike when they can. Whoever they are. Now please, I’ve got things to do.”
Begrudgingly, the women left your office. You were rubbing your temples when there was a hesitant knock at your door. “I thought I made myself clear- oh.” Large hands gripped your shoulders, working out the stressed kinks. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”
“Only if we get caught,” Sheamus chuckled. He succeeded in wrapping his arms around you before kissing the top of your head. It was enough to help you release a long, deep breath. Suddenly his touch was gone.
“Can I have a moment with my cousin?” Dean asked, calmly staring Sheamus down from the doorway. After your red-head gave you a reassuring pat between your shoulder blades, the men sidestepped each other.
Hey, Dean,” you whispered.
He stepped in rubbing the back of his head. “Hey, Ladybug. I know you’re busy, but I need to get something off my chest.”
“Go for it.” Easy to say. The tightness of your chest claimed otherwise.
He nodded. “I get it. I understand. And I’m sorry for the ride through hell to get there.” His hand shot up to stop you from putting yourself down again. “It was an impossible choice. Either Roman and I were going to lose Seth again, or I was going to have to give up… everything. I mean, we just got him back. And I just got you back… and there was nothing you could do.” Dean set his shoulders, but his eyes couldn’t meet yours. “I should have been willing to listen. Then maybe we could have found a way to avoid all this.”
You were on the verge of tears. He booped your nose, forcing you to smile. “Roman keeps telling me I have nothing to worry about.” You wiped away a tear. “And I have complete faith in both of you-“
“But?”
“But Brock is dangerous. Past the stupid stipulations. He’s… just about everybody ends up bloody or worse-“
“And I’m prepared for that.” He rested his hand lightly on your shoulder. “I’ve been preparing for a lot of things, actually.” His voice dropped out. Neither of you wanted to point out the two worst case scenarios again. “That was all I needed to say. Keep up the managing thing. You’re good at it… and I couldn’t be prouder of you.” He let you catch him in a tight hug, stroking the top of your head. Then he wrenched himself free and rushed out of your office.
***
The women’s battle royal was just as dramatic, if not more so, than the guys’. Of the final five, two women took the center of the ring. Zelina Vega, Asuka, and Nikki Cross huddled in corners, waiting to see what would happen. Natalya and Rhonda stared each other down. Not six months ago they were the best of friends, battling for the same goals but with handshakes after every altercation. Now they were cold. Unmoved by each other’s goals or aspirations.
They set to punches and head blows that rocked the ring. Unfortunately, in their haste and determination to eliminate one another, both women ended up landing on the apron after twisting over the ropes. Then the other three women sprang into action. It took all of them to launch the women off onto the floor. Thus, eliminating them both. Then Nikki and Asuka set on knocking each other out of the match. Zelina came bouncing off the ropes, succeeding in twisting Nikki over the top.
Now it was down to two. Zelina rushed not to lose her momentum. Bu Asuka wasn’t going to make it easy. Twice, three times one of them would stumble through the ropes. The Empress of tomorrow did everything she could to take the victory today. They both ended up on the apron. Taking a risk, Zelina jumped and grabbed hold of Asuka’s head, dropping with it. Asuka’s face bounced off the edge, and her body followed. Zelina fell back into the ring, running her hands through her hair. She’d won. After the referee raised her hand, she left the ring and stood by the trophy. Her trophy.
***
Roman marched down to the ring. He paced from ropes to rope like a caged lion, ignoring the continued mixed welcome from the crowd. When the lights finally dimmed for Dr. M’s entrance, he kneeled in one corner with his back against the turnbuckles. Dr. M grinned and eventually met him, standing toe to toe. Even though Roman towered over him, the trepidation in Roman’s eyes made the doctor smug. And gave him an edge.
Not waiting for the bell, Dr. M rushed forward. He caught Roman unawares, knocking him to the canvas. The rain of punches and kicks didn’t stop until Dr. M stepped back. He laughed. “You aren’t ready to defend yourself. How could you ever think you could keep me from healing the WWE? From healing Y/N?” His smile flickered away as Roman struggled to his feet.
They went at it again. Dr. M still had the upper hand, despite Roman’s mostly effective offense. His prior attacks had created several openings for future hits. Roman’s ribs and throat were easy targets. If he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t fight. And he wouldn’t win. But Dr. M had forgotten one very important thing.
No one messes with his family.
“You know, Roman,” Dr. M said into his ear while controlling him with a headlock, “Y/N really is such a perfect puppet for Hunter and Stephanie. Maybe they won’t mind if Sister Abigail borrows her vessel for a while, hmm. And why not bring Dean into the family too? I’d hate to break them apart again. Though I would have to break through their fevers by any means necessary.”
With a roar, Roman broke free and headbutted Dr. M. The man staggered back, fighting to shake free the blurriness in his vision. By the time it was back, so was Roman with a spear. Dr. M groaned and gasped as Roman walked away and gripped the top rope. The tape whined under his grip, and the referee took several steps back. Dr. M was eventually back on his feet. He dodged the first spear, but the second after Roman bounced off the far ropes. One, two, and three seconds later Dr. M was nowhere close to getting back up. Roman gave him an extra series of kicks to get him out of the ring, then swayed on his feet. He left the arena as the rest of WrestleMania started.
***
***
“Ladies and gentlemen, Elias.”
Inside the circle of light, Elias strummed his guitar. The crowd was deathly silent until he finished, then they started the ‘walk with Elias’ chant. He smiled at them. “It’s great to finally be recognized at the greatest concert of them all. Even if the arena is filled with disgusting rabble like you.” He waited for their shift in mood to die down a little before playing his song. It was dedicated to the dirt people of Brooklyn, punctuated with the occasional jab at Drew McIntyre. He was met with thunderous applause as he finished. “Finally. No interruptions.” He strummed to start another song, but he’d spoken too soon.
Soon enough, Drew was in the ring, dark and foreboding. He handed the Intercontinental title to the referee, glaring at Elias while the title match was announced.  Elias only let go of his guitar long enough to get rid of his mic and his scarves. Once the bell rang, the instrument whistled through the air, just barely missing Drew’s head. The champion slid out of the ring to quickly arm himself. Steel chairs, tables, and another guitar hidden in the bell box (after the first one was broken) came into play. The ring was littered with bamboo strips and fractured tables. Still, both men eluded the count.
A third guitar came out from under the ring. “How many guitars does Elias have?” Corey asked, flabbergasted. No matter how many more were hidden under the ring, it was the last one Elias needed. He scaled a turnbuckle and jumped. Drew turned just in time to catch the hit on his shoulder, collapsing as it splintered. Elias pinned him, even with chunks of wood jabbing into his own body. It had taken almost a year, but Elias was finally the Intercontinental champion once again.
***
It was time to see who won the backstage battle to face Bayley and Sasha Banks for the Raw Women’s Tag Titles. Renee had kept up with the results better than anyone else. “The last people we saw standing were Liv Morgan and Sarah Logan of the Riott Squad. Right before Roman’s match against Dr. M, they had gotten the jump on Natalya and Rhonda.”
Corey shrugged. “I don’t think any of us really thought that team was going to face the champions. They had quite a moment during the women’s battle royal. And it cost them.”
“But now it’s Boss and Hug time,” Cole said as the champions came down the ramp. The women waited patiently in the ring to see who their opponents were going to be. They bumped each other’s shoulders as the aforementioned team came out to the stage. Sarah and Liv cackled, proud of themselves for having won the moment. They were just about to take a step forward when they were hit from behind. Not waiting for them to get up, Alicia Fox and Mickie James rushed down the ramp. If they could make it to the ring and survive until the bell, the match was theirs. They made it, jumping and hugging one another while Sasha and Bayley stood back and golf-clapped.
The partying didn’t last long. It was time for the match. And it was a showstopper. Alicia and Mickie had years of experience on their side, years of being glossed over, years of waiting to step up only to be stepped over. Sasha and Bayley had the legacy NXT’s four horsewomen behind them and the rebuilt strength of their friendship. They had the championship buffer as well. That helped a lot when Mickie knocked Sasha out of the ring. She was willing to wait for the count, taking her time to roll around, but Alicia raced around the ring and shoved the champion back into the ring. Caught off-guard, Mickie was too busy mocking Bayley to sense the danger behind her.
Bayley ran across the ring to spear Alicia off the apron so Mickie could be pinned. Their titles retained, they stood together, ushering the new era of women’s wrestling.
***
The guys’ tag match didn’t go as smoothly for the champions. At first, it looked like they had everything under control. Rezar started the match against Sami Zayn. Behind him, Akam shouted what to do, and when to move away from the ropes when it looked like Kevin Owens was about to try something. Eventually, the tags switched and the process was the same. But as the match progressed, battle lines were drawn. Akam took a particularly teasing hit from Sami, who was good at dodging his grasp. Kevin was able to keep up with Rezar and keep him on his toes. The fight extended to ringside, and that’s when things got… broken.
No limbs, thankfully. But things definitely fell apart. Rezar was ringside meeting Owens blow for blow, toss for toss, and was mid-roar after throwing Owens into a barricade when Sami came running by. Akam was quick on his heels, but the champions zigged when they should have zagged. The two massive bodies colliding sent both men flying back the way they came. Sami and Kevin had recovered, and it took both to toss Akam back into the ring. With Rezar still reeling and unable to help, Sami made the pin. The victors met in the center of the ring, falling to their knees and accepting their new tag championship. They met again at the top of the massive ramp and held their titles high.
***
The last singles match of the night was for the Raw Women’s Championship between Ruby Riott and Alexa Bliss. As hostess, Alexa directed the biggest entrance of the night worthy of her talent, and arguably her ego. Ruby took a simpler entrance. Not that she needed anything bigger. Having the championship around her waist, and then on her shoulder, was stunning enough.
Alexa brought out all the stops. An unspoken goal had been for her team to hold all the Raw women’s titles. But with Mickie and Alicia coming up short, it was up to her to take up the slack. Ruby was similarly in mood. Her tag-mates had been denied their match. If she could retain, the Riott Squad had hope to rise again. Ruby accepted Alexa’s attack, then rerouted it for her own mission. A Twisted Bliss was narrowly avoided, and the stunned Alexa was easy to catch in a submission while Ruby caught her breath. Several more dives from the top ropes happened, but it was a Riot Kick to one of Alexa’s leaps that finished the match. Ruby retained, screaming into the night air with her title in her hands.
***
Now was the main event.
“This match is a Universal Championship triple-threat match set for one fall. The competitor who is pinned will have to leave the WWE forever.”
Dean nervously looked between Seth and Brock Lesnar. And the title. He bit back the urge to look towards the ramp as if you were there. Backstage, you were just as nervous. Roman was hovering by the tv too, but from a distance, so he could run to the ring as soon as the match was over. Sheamus stood right behind you, holding the hand you had resting on your shoulder.
At the bell, Seth and Dean instantly rushed to attack Lesnar in one swoop. He was laughing before they reached him. With his two large hands, he caught each around the throat. First, Lesnar tossed Seth one way and between the ropes. He threw Dean back towards the center of the ring, then caught him with the first suplex of the match. Seth pulled Dean to the floor and slid in, starting the attack he planned. His quick movements kept confusing the Beast. And they were wearing him down. A well-placed Frog-Splash caught Lesnar in the ribs, but he twisted Seth into a submission. Dean rushed back in to break it up before his brother had to tap out.
Seth remained huddled in the corner, nursing his arm while Dean and Lesnar faced off again. This time Dean was successful in dodging the harder blows and the attempted suplexes. He managed to drop him with a Dirty Deeds and instantly tried for a pin. Which instantly failed. Dean knew he couldn’t let up on the attack, but Lesnar’s low laugh was unnerving.
“I don’t care which one of you I pin,” he chuckled. “It’s all the same to me. No, what will matter after this match, is how your little cousin survives with me as champion.” They both rose to their feet, circling each other. “Maybe I do care. If my reign is going to be a bit more hands-on, I’d rather not have you in the way.” Behind them on the floor, Paul Heyman nodded, grinning ear to ear. Seth heard too and used the ropes to get back to his feet.
Lesnar was flanked on both sides. E wasn’t bothered by that until the timing of brothers kicked in. If he thought keeping up with Rollins or stomping down Ambrose was hard, it was nigh impossible to keep tabs on both. Dean was wildest of the two. The threat was enough to send him boarder-lining on several mistakes. Those close calls got him suplexed across the ring, several of which sent him hurtling to the floor. Still, it distracted the Beast enough from Seth’s darting attacks. Alone, the plan might have worked. With both of them working against Lesnar? It was becoming a sure match.
Then Lesnar fell out of the ring, just as Dean and Seth found themselves on opposite sides of it.
Backstage, you shook your head. “No.” You whispered. “Don’t do it guys.”
They looked at one another, and to where Brock was out of sight. Seth launched half a second before Dean did, catching him in the chest and taking him to the canvas. The referee was just swooping in to count when Seth jolted back. The price came to mind. And it was too high. With another shared look, they rolled through the ropes and set on bringing Lesnar back onto the canvas. With both of them then leaning on his chest, the referee kneeled to count. Dean backed away before he started, watching as all three seconds went by.
The screen erupted with the cheers of the crowd, but you were frozen. Sheamus shook your shoulders. “What’s wrong? They won.”
“If this had been the original contract, Dean would have just given up his career… of his own free will.”
Roman was already gone. You hurried out the door to follow him. By the time you made it to the ramp, Dean was already enveloped in a Roman-sized bear hug. You took over, hugging Dean with all your strength. Seth was still in the ring, showing off his retained Universal title at each ring post. Brock Lesnar and his advocate came up the ramp, both of them panting. Dean’s back was still turned to them. Unaware of the danger. You pushed him and Roman back and stood between them and the advancing party. Lensar paused, amused that you thought he’d give an effort now that he was done with the company. He was long gone by the time Seth caught up.
The brothers in arms shared a victory hug. One that you watched from a distance. You couldn’t hear what they were saying to one another, but that was okay. It wasn’t for you to hear. When the huddle broke, Dean caught you around the shoulders the same way Roman caught his, and they led you backstage.
Seth Rollins looked out over the crowd. A sold-out arena all shouting ‘slay the beast’. Because he had. With the biggest smile on his face in a long time, he lifted the red and gold belt above his head. It was theirs; he’d won it for them. And he’d defend it for them, no matter what it took.
Part 49: Wrapped Up
Series Masterlist 
Masterlist 
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