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dark-fics-4-you · 11 days

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Number One Fan ch. IV

Dark!stepbro!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader (with a side of JJ Maybank x f!Reader)

Warnings: noncon (aka rape), incest (step siblings), forced sex, mentions of past noncon, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, unwanted creampie, violence, abduction, gaslighting, m!receiving masturbation, reader has some ptsd like symptoms from past noncon

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Sarah had been the first to call out the fact that you were acting differently. After all, the entire family was staying together over winter break and with no classes or extracurricular activities to take up anyone’s time, your absence was noticeable.

Despite all of your reassurances that you were okay, Sarah would not stop pressing you.

“It’s just that you’re holed up in your room basically 24/7, Y/N. I’m starting to get a little worried. All of us are actually, at dinner last night Rafe could not shut up about you.”

At the mention of your step brother’s name your stomach flipped, nerves flaring as you thought about him.

The party had happened a couple weeks ago, but that night had been heavy in your mind ever since. After Rafe confirmed that he hadn’t been in your room that night, you had tried to write it all off as some twisted dream, but the shadowy memories that had been coming back to you since were eating you alive.

Everything about it had felt so real. Each time you looked back on it, you seemed to remember another detail, another reason to question yourself and your step-brother.

Rafe had told you he hadn’t came into your room the next morning when you asked him about it, but the details weren’t adding up.

The entire situation didn’t sit right with you.

You wanted so badly to brush it all of, to assume it was just a bad dream, but you also didn’t want to think that your brain was capable of conjuring up a situation as nightmarish and nauseating as your step brother sneaking into your room and eating you out.

Another thing that you couldn’t get out of your mind was how drunk Rafe had been trying to get you that night. Not only that, but he had given you some coke, which was a rare occurrence. Any other time you had asked to try it, your older brother declined, telling you that he cared about you too much to risk you getting addicted.

The few times he had ever let you do a line was in the house, on a night no one was throwing a party, where you both knew it would be a safe environment. He had never let you do coke a party, much less offered it to you.

You hadn’t even thought to question it at the time, too intoxicated to think twice, but now you felt suspicious.

For the first time in your life, you were incredibly uncomfortable being around your older step brother.

Tannyhill was huge, but Rafe’s looming presence made it feel small.

Leaving your room became an anxiety inducing ordeal, you were never sure if you would bump into him and have to pretend like you weren’t reliving the sensation of his lips sliding over yours, the way his mouth felt wrapped around your clit, the feeling of his fingers pumping inside of your slick cunt, or how good it felt to come undone onto his fingers and tongue.

The worst was how much every one of his touches now set your skin on fire. Whereas before the party, you had never been one to shy away from displaying physical affection with your older brother, now the thought of it made a pit of dread grow in your stomach.

You were even more ashamed of the fact that you had even noticed yourself growing wet when Rafe was around.

Once, after his low voice reached your ears from behind and he wrapped his arms around waist, picking you up and spinning you around before setting you back down, your cheeks warmed and you squeezed your thighs together when you felt a hot warmth between your legs, quietly mumbling an excuse before running to your room, where you stayed the rest of the night in ashamed confusion.

Another time, after Rafe had noticed you watching TV on the living room couch, wearing one of your cute, little tennis dresses (that he had bought for you), he sat next to you and asked you to cuddle up to him, like you had so many times before. This time, when you climbed into his lap, you couldn’t focus on the show at all, instead praying that your step brother couldn’t feel your panties growing damp from the close proximity to him.

What you didn’t know was that Rafe had a good idea of why you were acting differently. He knew that you must have some memory of that night, and he had been getting immense enjoyment from your discomfort and squirming.

Although he did wish that you had remembered less so you would go on being the oblivious, sweet little sister he had gotten used to. Rafe didn’t like that you had withdrawn yourself from him so much.

Sarah cleared her throat in front of you with a nervous laugh, and you realized you had zoned out right in front of her for several seconds longer than was normal.

“I’m just still feeling really tired from the last semester still,” you lied, nervously looking down as you played with a strand of your hair.

Sarah raised an eyebrow doubtfully, before shaking her head and taking a step closer to you before wrapping her arms around you in a hug.

“I’m here for you, Y/N.” She whispered into your hair as she squeezed you a little tighter. “You know you can always talk to me about anything.”

Her words were kind, and you felt guilty for ignoring her for the past few weeks and thankful that she was offering some friendship.

“And Rafe too.” Sarah added as she stepped away from the hug, and your blood ran cold.

“I know he may act distant at times but he really loves you, Y/N.” She continued, unaware of the nausea growing in your gut. “He can’t shut up about how weird it is that you’ve been ignoring all of us. I think he misses you but doesn’t know how to tell you.”

“Um, yeah,” you managed. Your mouth felt so dry and you could feel your heartbeat picking up. Your ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton, but there was a high pitched ringing that was still forcing it’s way to the middle of your forehead.

“Anyways me, John B, and the rest of the Pogues were gonna go to the Wreck in half an hour, would you want to come along?” Sarah smiled at you and you felt excited about something for the first time in a while.

You hadn’t seen JJ since the party and you had been ignoring all of his calls, upset that he had skipped out on the party without saying anything to you.

Maybe if you met up with him and talked one-on-one, you could finally put this behind you and get back to the good relationship you had with JJ before.

You told Sarah yes and she lit up before telling you to get ready and going back into her room to pick her outfit out.

You turned away from her to walk back to own room when a noise from just down the hall caught your attention.

Your head swiveled to Rafe’s closed door and you heard a sound that sounded like your name from the inside.

Concerned for your brother, you walked to the door and knocked twice.

“Rafe? Are you okay?” You called out from the other side of the closed door and you heard a muffled, “fuck!” come from inside.

“Rafe?” You asked again, now somewhat more concerned.

“One second!” His voice sounded strained and you waited for several moments before he finally cracked his door. He was shirtless and only wearing boxers and you nervously averted your eyes away from his body.

“What, Y/N/N?”

“Oh, I thought I heard you say my name, I’m sorry.”

“Well I didn’t.”

You silently swallowed, nervous because Rafe was standing so close and towering over you.

“Um, Sarah and I are gonna go to the Wreck with the other Pogues soon, just thought I’d let you know.”

“Cool.” His blue eyes didn’t reveal anything, and you almost missed the way they flicked down and then up your body quickly. “Don’t have too much fun.”

You nervously laughed, assuming your older brother would join in, but he didn’t even crack a smile before he quickly shut his door in front of you.

Weird, you thought to yourself before turning back to walk to your room, trying not to dwell on it too much.

You picked out a simple, but cute dress. It was white with a mid thigh length skirt and a light green floral pattern. The thin straps revealed your shoulders and the cut was very flattering. You were sure Sarah and Kie would love it.

On the other side of Rafe’s door, he sat on his bed again, freeing his erection from the tight fabric of his boxers and grabbing his phone. He opened up the pic of you passed out at the party with your slick cunt on display for him, before wrapping his hand around his cock and finishing what you had just unknowingly interrupted.

When you arrived at the Wreck with Sarah, the Pogues were quick to rush out and hug you, happily filling you in on all the things you had missed. Although, you noticed that JJ had hung back and he was nervously looking at you from a safe distance. You also couldn’t help but spot the faded scar above his eye that you hadn’t seen before.

You were still upset with him, but it also hurt to see him looking so upset, knowing that it was only because you had been ignoring him.

Kie and John B were telling you an insane story about being chased by an alligator after the Twinkie got stuck in a swamp as you all walked inside and sat down at a table.

You were happily surprised when JJ sat across from you, shooting you a small smile, which you returned.

Your orders were taken pretty quickly, and you were happy that it felt like the group dynamics hadn’t faded at all in your absence, and they hadn’t changed now that you had returned.

Kie, John B, Sarah, and Pope had all gotten sucked into an argument over whether hot dogs were sandwiches or not, and you met JJ’s eyes for real for the first time since the party.

“So.. what happened?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to explain to you, Y/N, but you’ve been dodging all my calls.” JJ said exasperatedly, but not loudly enough to pull the other Pogues away from their riveting hot dog discourse.

You sighed, looking away before mumbling, “I was just really upset that you bailed on me. A-and I’ve been dealing with some other shit too.”

“I’m sorry,” JJ apologized empathetically. “It was never my intention to hurt you. I was at the party.”

At this admission, your eyebrows rose in surprise, “you were?”

“Yeah, and your brother’s meathead football teammates wouldn’t let me inside. Gave me this as a party favor,” he gestured to the small scar above his brow and you now noticed the mostly faded bruising on his eyelid.

“What the hell?” You asked in disbelief. “Why would they do that?”

“I dunno,” he shook his head. “They told me Rafe said no Pogues allowed, and they didn’t like it when I tried to sneak past them.”

JJ laughed, but you were frowning now.

Why would Rafe have gotten his friends to stop JJ from coming in after he had promised you that you could throw your own party that night?

“I tried to call you to explain, but you never picked up…” JJ sadly finished, trailing off as he twisted one of his rings.

“Shit JJ, I’m sorry. I was so angry with you, I just assumed that you hadn’t come to the party at all.”

A french fry flew across the air and lightly wacked into your face, surprising you and causing the other side of the table to burst into laughter before you and JJ joined as well.

“Are you two lovebirds gonna talk to us at all?” Kie laughed, and you and JJ both blushed and exchanged grins before turning your attention back to the group.

The rest of the night went well. The awkwardness between you and JJ had mostly faded, and was now replaced with a new excitement at the idea that perhaps you and JJ could still continue your relationship.

After paying the bill, you all walked out into the parking lot, still laughing and joking around.

You began your goodbyes, hugging all of your friends before getting to JJ last. Sarah got the hint from your pointed glance that you’d prefer if she stayed in the car for a second so you could talk to JJ.

As the rest of your friends got in their cars and drove off, the two of you smiled at each other before embracing and you laughed when JJ picked you up and spun you around.

He had pulled you in to hug you again after setting you on your feet when all of the sudden, he was violently ripped away from you, causing you to almost lose your balance.

You heard the gasp from JJ as you lurched forward and your eyes widened at the sight of Rafe releasing JJ before punching him across the jaw, and knocking him to the ground.

“Rafe!” You screamed at him in terror and confusion, but he just ignored you.

“Are you trying to fuck my little sister? Huh, Maybank?” Rafe screamed at JJ, and you couldn’t stop the tears that were streaming down your face as you watched him punch JJ again.

Your pulse was racing in your ears as you helplessly watched, too shocked and frozen in place to intervene.

At this point, Sarah had noticed what was happening and ran from her car, yelling at Rafe to stop. When she rushed over to them, desperately trying to pull Rafe off of JJ, Rafe roughly shoved her to the ground.

“Stay the fuck out of it, Sarah!” He spat at her angrily.

While he was momentarily distracted with Sarah, JJ swung at him, his fist connecting with Rafe’s cheek this time.

“Don’t push her like that!” JJ yelled as you rushed over to Sarah to help her off of the ground.

“Are you okay?!”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she gasped as you pulled her to her feet and stepped away from Rafe and JJ, watching as the two stared each other down with hate filled eyes.

JJ faked left before going right, but Rafe quickly ran at him, tackling the other blond to the ground and landing multiple blows on his face.

You and Sarah were screaming again, and this time, you were the one to try to pull Rafe away.

With all of your strength, you ran at Rafe, knocking him off of JJ and onto his side beneath you, but he recovered faster than you, and you whimpered when his hand closed tightly around your wrist and you were pulled to your feet.

Rafe had given up on attacking JJ now; his only objective was to get you away from Sarah and that Pogue scum.

“What are you doing, Rafe??” Sarah yelled at him as she rushed over to JJ to check on him, torn between staying by his side and running over to help you.

“Sarah!” You yelped as he tugged you further away from her and towards his parked truck.

“We’re gonna go for a little drive. We’ll be back later.” Rafe yelled over his shoulder at Sarah before he opened his car door and shoved you inside, quickly locking the door before you could escape and walking to the driver’s side door.

He unlocked it, climbing inside and relocking the doors quicker than you could open yours and you slammed on the window in frustration before glaring at him.

As he sped out of the parking lot, you looked back to see Sarah kneeling over JJ in tears.

“Where the fuck are you taking me?” You demanded, anger evident in your voice.

Rafe was silent, his blue eyes locked on the road as he tore through the back

“Turn the fuck around and take me back now! What is wrong with you?!” You hissed, wiping away more tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

“No.” He responded, irritation growing on his face.

Frustration and anger festered inside of you as you glared at your step brother before turning your head to watch the trees fly past you as Rafe accelerated.

“You missed the turn for our house, idiot.”

“We’re not going back to the house until you calm down,” his tone was hard and demeaning, like he was talking down to a child.

“You’re the one who needs to calm down, Rafe!” You snapped at him and he rolled his eyes. “You could have killed him!”

Rafe laughed at that, but it completely lacked humor, “JJ’s been getting too close to you recently, Y/N. I told you he’s not good enough for you.”

“So that warranted you beating his face in?!”

Rafe made a sharp turn, driving towards the docks and parking the truck without a word.

The sky had begun growing dark, the last rays of crimson still stained the horizon as the sun dipped below the ocean waves.

The docks were quiet and, unusually, there seemed to be no one walking around this night.

You defiantly sat in place as Rafe opened his door and got out, coming over to your side and opening the door expectantly.

When you made no moves to exit, Rafe grabbed you, pulling you out of the car before he threw you over his shoulder, slammed the door and started walking to the docks.

At first you were too stunned to fight back, but as he continued carrying you, you began yelling at him again and beating on his back with your fists.

“Let go of me!! Put me down, Rafe! Stop it!!”

Your screams fell on deaf ears, and if there was anyone on the docks hearing the commotion, they had chosen to mind their own business and not get involved.

You couldn’t squirm out of his grasp no matter how hard you tried, and your eyes widened when his yacht finally came into view.

All of your arguing and squirming was ignored as he climbed aboard, carrying you with him.

Rafe brought you to the room below deck, throwing you onto the bed and then quickly leaving, locking the door from the outside behind him.

You helplessly grabbed at the doorknob, twisting it to no avail as you banged on the door with your fist.

“Let me out!!!” You screamed at him, straining your vocal chords in your anger.

“Rafe!!”

You heard the sound of the boat engine turn on and a chill ran down your spine as you realized the boat was moving away from the docks.

“What are you doing Rafe?!?!”

You got no response for five minutes despite your continued yelling, the entire time the boat was heading god knows where.

Just when you had given up hope that he was coming back and beginning to believe that Rafe was planning on taking you for an extended boat ride, you were surprised when you heard the motor stop and felt the anchor go down.

You heard Rafe’s footsteps on the stairs and you angrily glared at him as he walked into the room and then locked the door behind him.

“What in the world do you think you’re doing? What is wrong with you??” You shouted at your older step brother.

“JJ told me that you had your friends jump him when he tried to come to the party!” You revealed. “Is that true!”

“Yeah it is,” Rafe responded nonchalantly. “I don’t like you hanging out with scum like him. I’m just looking out for you.”

“You never butt into Sarah’s relationship with John B, he’s a Pogue too!”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“It just is, Y/N! I don’t particularly like that Sarah’s dating John B, but I know that JJ is a bad guy! He’s gonna get you roped into bad shit, and mess up the future that you have ahead of you!”

Rafe’s words were only pissing you off more and the horrible nagging feeling that you had at the back of your brain made you say something you immediately wished you could take back.

“Did you come into my room the night of the party, Rafe?!”

“Yes!” He shouted, and you felt all of the oxygen leave the room.

The silence lingered for several moments and you could hear your blood rushing in your ears. You were so shocked you could only stare at him in disbelief.

“I came into your room that night, and that wasn’t even the first time.” Rafe’s lips curled into a sickeningly smug grin as he took in the shocked expression written all over your face.

A horrible wave of nausea passed over you as you realized the implications of his words.

Your step brother had just admitted to not only fingering you and eating you out at the party, but also to touching you other times you couldn’t even remember.

Your ears were ringing as you looked at him in shock and disgust, tunnel vision blocking out the rest of the room as you numbly watched his lips moving soundlessly.

Rafe reached for your hand and you jerked away from him, panic beginning to set in as you failed to catch your breath.

Your entire view of your step brother was being shattered as you tried to come to terms with the impossible facts that were literally staring you right in front of your face.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Everything I do has always been for you, please you have to believe me.”

You tried to stand up and get past him, desperate to leave the cramped space of the cabin, but Rafe easily grabbed you and threw you back onto the bed, climbing on top of you as you struggled beneath him.

“Get the fuck off of me, Rafe!! Please!” You screamed, begging him as he roughly grabbed your wrist and pinned it to the bed.

You had never been more terrified of your brother than in this moment. His horrible confession had changed everything.

You always knew that Rafe was strong. How could you not? He was always bragging about how much he could lift at the gym to you and bringing you along to show off. It was impossible to miss his muscles straining the fabric of his shirts when you had seen him lifting things around the house or working on his truck.

But you had never been at the mercy of Rafe’s strength until now.

You whined when he painfully twisted your wrist, and he shifted on top of you, nudging your legs apart with his knee and grinding his now obvious hard on against your clothed pussy.

A shameful, disgust settled within you when you could feel your panties growing damp with unwanted arousal.

You squirmed in his grasp, back arching as you tried to pull away. Fear gripped your throat as you looked up at Rafe in heartbroken confusion, your eyes growing blurry with tears.

“You’ve always been such a good little sister, Y/N/N.” Rafe whispered, and you let out a gasp when he shifted his hips, his clothed tip pressed to your clit, making you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Don’t you remember how good I made you feel at the party?” He groaned and you shook your head in denial.

“No, Rafe-”

“I could make you feel even better than that, Y/N.” You felt him shift again, and you tilted your head to watch him begin unzipping his shorts and removing them.

Again you felt horror and nausea rise inside of you as you saw what was coming towards you, and you were utterly powerless to stop it.

“Rafe!” You sobbed pathetically, grabbing at the hand that was clamped around your other wrist and scratching at him. “Please don’t do this. I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

You didn’t even see his hand fly out, but you heard the slap before you felt it. Your head whipped to the side and the ringing in your ears returned as your fight was quickly sapped from your body. Your cheek felt like it was on fire from the strength behind his ringed hand.

“I really wanted to make this special for you, Y/N.” Rafe managed between gritted teeth, his grip around your wrist tightening. “But you’re making that really difficult for me when you’re acting like such a fucking brat.”

You were still too stunned to react, your eyes squeezed shut in pain as you lay limply on the bed.

The feeling of Rafe’s hand trailing beneath your dress and between your legs set a blaze across your skin. His fingertips ghosted over the edges of your pretty, lacy panties, making you shiver.

When Rafe grabbed them and started tugging them down your legs, you snapped your legs shut in an attempt to stop him, but when he glared at you and quickly reared his arm back as if he was going to slap you again, you quickly opened them to allow him to slide your panties off.

“Take this off.” He ordered you, gesturing to your dress and you swallowed dryly, knowing that there was no way to avoid doing exactly what he wanted.

Rafe let go of your bruised wrist to allow you to remove the last barrier of clothing you had on.

His eyes hungrily raked over your now completely exposed body. He had seen you naked before the other times when he had snuck into your room, but the anticipation of what was to come made you seem even more gorgeous than before, if that was even possible.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispered breathlessly, but his compliment only made you feel more disgusted.

He pulled his boxers off and you looked away, too embarrassed to look at your step brother naked.

A hand clamped on your chin, turning your head and forcing you too look at him.

His cock was long and thick, and when your eyes widened at the size, Rafe chuckled.

“I’ll make it fit, Y/N/N,” he drawled, climbing between your legs again and positioning himself between them.

You tensed when you felt him rub his tip up and down your soaked slit, teasing your clit a bit and you squirmed beneath him.

Rafe looked between your legs as he slowly began sliding the tip of his cock inside of you.

“Wait, Rafe!” You whined, you hands grabbing at his shoulders to push him off.

He wordlessly grabbed your wrists, easily pinning them to the bed and using the new position to push himself deeper, stretching your cunt out more with each inch.

“Fuck,” he groaned as your tight, warm pussy squeezed around his cock.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks now as your older step brother pinned you to the bed and slowly forced himself deeper inside you.

The pressure between your legs was immense, and you had never felt so full in your life.

He bottomed out, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix, and his arms trembled slightly above you as he sucked in a shaky breath.

“God, I’m so fucking lucky my lil sis saved herself for me.”

Rafe’s words made your stomach churn, but before you could linger on them long, his lips smothered yours, and sickeningly, you realized that you recognized the feeling from the night of the party when you thought you had been kissing JJ.

You turned your head away from him to break the kiss, but his firm hand brought you back and held you in place as his lips slid over yours.

When he tilted his hips back and then slowly started push his cock back into you, you gasped into the kiss, letting his tongue to push its way into your mouth.

Rafe thrusted into you faster, picking up his pace as he finally broke the kiss and allowed you to gasp for air.

Your trembling legs wrapped around his back as you tried to steady yourself from the rocking of the bed and the feel of his length dragging along your walls.

To your embarrassment, you could feel his cock begin to slide into you easier as you grew slicker around him, but that didn’t alleviate how much he was stretching you out.

“JJ could never make you feel this good, Y/N. He doesn’t know you like I do, doesn’t know your body like I do.”

At the mention of JJ, you cried harder, tensing around him and squeezing his cock so hard he groaned.

Rafe’s lips captured yours again, hungrily kissing you as he plunged himself into you harder now.

When he pulled away, he stared into your eyes for several moments, watching your eyelids fluttering shut as you tried to keep your focus on your older step brother as his thrusts rocked your body again and again.

“Tell me you love me.”

Your cunt squeezed around him at his words, a horrible mixture of emotions flooding your body. He was one of your best friends, your older brother. You had loved him for so many years, and horribly, you still loved him right now, even as he betrayed your trust in the most violent way imaginable.

You felt so confused, not just about his actions, but now also about your body’s reaction to him forcing himself onto you.

“Y/N,” Rafe warned, his punishing thrusts bringing you back to the present. “Tell me you love me.”

“I-” you were cut off by a moan when Rafe’s fingers circled your tender clit. It was nearly impossible to think straight right now, much less form a sentence.

You swallowed, before quietly whimpering, “I love you.”

His fingers twitched against your clit, his cock was repeatedly hitting a spot that was making your head swim and vision blur. Each masterful motion of his fingers was building inside of you, pulling you closer to the brink, even though you were trying to fight the inevitable.

“I can’t fucking hear you,” Rafe growled, his pace growing downright punishing.

You were pushed over the edge suddenly, and you closed your eyes and loudly whined as you came around him. “I love you, Rafe!”

You could practically see his cocky grin as you gave him exactly what he wanted, even though your eyes were still squeezed shut as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, baby. So tight,” Rafe groaned, still drilling into you. “Been waiting so long for this and you feel even better than I could’ve dreamed.”

Rafe’s pace stuttered and he pushed himself deep inside you, his fingertips gripping into your thighs tightly as he came, spilling his sticky cum deep inside you as you squirmed beneath him, begging him to pull out through tears.

“Rafe, please, I’m not on any birth control,” you sobbed.

He cupped your chin, roughly tugging you in to a messy kiss as he ignored your pleading.

When he finally pulled away he looked down at you dreamily, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I really do have the best sister ever, huh?”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron noncon #stepbro!rafe cameron #dark!stepbro!rafe cameron #stepbro!rafe #stepbro!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x reader #number one fan #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe cameron

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imaslutforwritingshit · 5 months

Note

oh my god you're like the only writer i've found whose requests are open rn

so basically ive been reading this rlly good book where the male protagonist is like rlly tall and super sweet and a hockey player and now i very desperately need ethan landry as that with like a short reader who maybe has some attitude

you can add smut (preferably) but if you can't think of anything for it it's fine!

OKAY

(Hockey Ethan Landry x fem. short reader, that ice skates)

(Part One- teasing, plot)

Sorry to the requester! This took a while like four months 😭 but luckily it’s skating season!

Ethan Landry ❤️‍🔥

Julie Weston 🤍

I started the routine again. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane. Wake up, grab my skates, go on the ice. I forget all of my problems when I skate, letting them fall under my feet as I rake the blades into powdery ice. Today, the rink is empty, given no one comes this early. It’s 5:00 in the morning, and if any person would be here right now, my guess is that they would be a sports player, considering how insane they all are.

Skating has been a part of my life forever, since I was a child, even. I don’t let myself think about how long it’s been, how much has changed. I just ride, to quote Lana, whose music I immediately put on, raising the volume of my AirPods to (almost) an extreme level. I begin the comfortable act of sliding my legs, bending my knees, then faster, until the ice is blending and whirling under my skates, and I am speeding in the rink, distracted by the music in my ears. I do a backwards spiral, grabbing my leg and twirling, then a backwards spin. I feel elevated, euphoric, and then, I feel a hard wall slam into my backside.

I trip over my skates, and fall to the ice, hearing my leggings rip from the impact. Groaning, I push myself up from my hands. Not blood, just a scrape on my legs. I sigh, and feel that my AirPods fell out of my ears when I had slammed to the ground. As I searched the ice for them, a low, gravely tone behind me scoffed.

I jumped, immediately turning unsuccessfully to meet the person. I stumbled, and straightened my legs out of fear, like a small deer in the wintertime. But no sheer amount of embarrassment could prepare me for who I saw behind me.

Ethan.

Ethan Landry.

When he met my expression, he smiled, his dark eyes glinting with the satisfaction of my surprise. His hair was messy, as if he had just woke up from bed, like me. He was wearing a black hoodie, and grey sweatpants, which seemed normal, but what stuck out to me was the hockey stick in his hands.

“I’m not gonna play with you, you know.” I stammered, pointing at the stick.

Ethan laughed smugly, and I swear I could’ve just slapped him then and there. He tapped the base of the stick on the ground. “Yeah? I was hoping you would.” He dropped his eyes to my smaller body, and I straightened my shoulders in an effort to be taller. “You certainly have the…build of a hockey player.”

I rolled my eyes, and huffed, grabbing my AirPods awkwardly in front of him. I could feel his stare down my back, and I really wished he wasn’t in direct view of my ass. I moved on the ice faster than I thought possible to get away from him, finding a corner where I practicing skating drills in an effort to sit with my thoughts. Ethan was moving a puck casually on the other side of the rink, and I made certain that he didn’t see me staring.

When I was in elementary school, Ethan Landry was every girl’s crush. How could he not be? With his dreamy eyes, his soft, tender voice, cute curls? I could remember every friend I ever had begging him for his number, or to sit with him during lunchtime. But no, not me. I saw who he really was. He was cocky, so much so that every time I walked by him, he would ask me if I was ready to admit I liked him. But I never did, and even if I would, he would never hear about it. Ethan would pester me, throw dodgeballs at my shoulder, tap my thumb repeatedly in 7up, until I glared at him, ultimately losing the game.

And I was fine hating Ethan Landry. I enjoyed it. I liked knowing that I was the only one who knew what he was- a playboy.

In 5th grade, I had a friend named Allie. She always tried to convince me to “confess” that I liked Ethan. She told me nobody could resist him, and there’s no point in me pretending that I didn’t like him. But it didn’t matter how many times I told her I wouldn’t. She already had a plan.

Allie wrote a fake love letter, filled with the grossest things a 5th grader would possibly write, or know about. Allie signed the letter with my name; putting it on Ethan’s desk the morning of English class. I will never forget the look on Ethan’s face after she told me what she did. It’s the first time I saw him blush.

Probably because Allie wrote, “I want to sleep with you,” in the letter, even if she didn’t know what that meant yet.

Needless to say, I never talked to that girl again, until she moved schools. And Ethan stopped bothering me after that. Only recently, in high school, the taunting and teasing has come up again. And with it, memories of 5th grade. I just need him out of my life. And the worst part is, he’s still just as fawned over, if not more, than before. Every girl I ever knew had once crushed on him. He’s gotten significantly taller, around 6’3, and his form filled out nicely after enrolling into hockey 7 years ago. I never went to any of his games, and honestly, I don’t care to. He’s not my friend, my enemy, or my lover. He’s nothing to me.

I took a break from skating, huffing over the side of the rink walls. I heard him skate over to me, and I straightened my body again, my heart suddenly faster. I didn’t dare look at him.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, hesitant. I ignored him. “Hey.” I only stared at him, feigning boredom. He gritted his teeth. “Julie, can I talk to you?”

“No.” I turned around and began skating on the ice. I heard Ethan groan behind me and follow my trail.

“What happened to us?” His voice was light, but the words cut deep.

I whirled around, putting my hands in my hips to seem like my fingers weren’t shaking.

“What do mean, us? There has been no us, there will never be an us,” I exclaim, skating backwards. “The last time I checked, the only thing you ever wanted us to be was the boy who makes fun of the girl, and the girl who loveeeddd the boy so much!” I mocked him, rolling out the word with an irritating gesture. I huffed in cold air, and whirled around for the final time, taking my time to exit the rink.

As I clanked my skates on the warm carpet of the bench area, I looked back, seeing Ethan’s eyes on mine. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and down, and butterflies warmed my core. I forced my eyes down, and began disassembling my skates, stuffing them in the light pink bag I got for my 18th birthday.

“You know that I knew about Allie, right?”

His deep voice shocked me out of my state of pitiful thoughts. I shook my hair out of my face, and stared up, Ethan suddenly nearing the wall that separated the rink from the sitting area. I slid on my boots, and wiped melted water droplets from my pants as I stood.

“What?” My voice was weary. I just wanted to be home. School was tomorrow, and I would prefer to keep my Sunday Ethan-free from now on.

He stepped into the area, and sat down on the bench opposite to me. He was out of breath, red cheeked, with a smooth glaze of sweat gleaming on his sharp jawline. As he dusted off his sweats and kicked off his skates, he scoffed.

“I knew that Allie wrote the letter.” Silence filled the heavy room, only the heaters buzzing from afar the sound I could hear. Ethan finally stood up, black sneakers on his feet. He unzipped his jacket slowly, his eyes burning onto mine. As he stripped his body, I could see the muscles lining fabric underneath his shirt. I had to clench my thighs, bite my lip, not to go crazy.

Because, the secret was?

I’ve been attracted to Ethan Landry since the day I met him. And I’ve been trying, trying so hard to convince myself that I wasn’t.

He tugged on his sleeves, and casually zipping his bag as he talked. “She told me that she wrote it. And the reason that I was ignoring you after all of it wasn’t because I was embarrassed that you wanted to sleep with me.”

He stood near me, now towering over my frail body. I can’t believe how much taller he got, and he closed space between us, until I was up against the wall.

My nerves were burning, and his eyes were dark, fire pooling in his dangerously beautiful irises. He leaned in, his husky voice in my ear. “It’s because I was upset that you didn’t want to.”

My mouth dropped. “You were ten, and you knew what sleeping with people was?” That wasn’t on my mind. The thought that he would want me too… it drove me insane. I rubbed my legs together harder, pressure in my core.

Ethan laughed, but in a way that almost sounded painful. He leaned back, grazing my body with his eyes. “Jesus, not then.” His face suddenly got serious, as he rested his eyes on my hips, my breasts, and then my lips again.

“Now.”

My eyes opened wider than I could have imagined, and I gasped, letting breath open my lungs.

“Y-you want to sleep with me now?” I straightened my back, my eyes drilled into his.

His expression glinted with dark lust, a smile forming on his face as he took in my shock.

“Yeah.” He whispered, grabbing my wrist and sliding my arm over my head.

“Is that a problem?”

#ethan landry x you #smut #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x oc #ethan landry x female reader #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #hockey #slasher smut #ghostface x y/n

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junniecumm · 1 year

Text

Cammydub$ Sex Stream

It started like every other day, but when I woke up, today seemed different, I did my everyday morning routine, and headed to the gym, today was leg day, as I'm hitting my squats I hear a loud yet soft "I'M CUMMING". I look over to the bench press area and I see a tall yet slim, almost feminine figure covered in white liquid on the floor, I went over to see if he was okay but before I utter even a word he shushes me "I'm okay darling, I just hit my max of 215 and got a bit excited, but hey, my name is Camron but my friends call me Monkey" I chuckle a little and ask if he can spot me on my squat, "Of course, id love to, but youre really sexy so I'm sorry if Cammy junior wants to help to..." I'm disgusted but at the same time, something about his red and black dreads....makes me feel something "let me just clean up this mess i made and we can get to it". Cam began helping me with my max squat, its just 5 reps of 215, how hard can it be? After the first 3 reps my legs began to turn into jelly and i began to struggle, every second going down felt like an eternity, and coming back up felt impossible, "Four" he says "just one more, you got this girlie" he says encouragingly, as I take a deep breath and squat down, everything starts to fade in and out, my deep breath escapes my body ceasing to return, and I get really tired, feeling like giving up i hear deep voice in my ear "give it your all like when you cum, I believe in you" its Cam giving me the best words of encouragement ive ever heard, I came to my senses and the only thing that can leave my mouth is "IM CUMMINGG" as i stand up to victory, racking it up feeling victorious and strong, "I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT PRETTY" Cam yells out as he goes for a hug, I hug him cause he's the only reason i could hit such a heavy weight, but i feel something poke my lower stomach, something hard... I pull back and see his raging boner through his red shorts. "Oh my, looks like Cammy Junior wants to celebrate too, he's such a little rascal" he then went on a tangent on how something was a foot? idk I didn't care too much I just thought he was cute, so I gave him my number and told him to text me so we could "have a private workout session (;"

The day went on as usual, working my day-shift job at the bank as usual, dealing with annoying customers and wanting something exciting to happen like a fire or an armed robbery, but nothing... my only saving grace was when 5:45 comes around and I can finally go to lunch, as I'm eating i decide to check my phone and to my surprise I got a text saying "Hey pretty (:" , the only person I've given my number to recently was Cam in the morning, I replied with "Hey (: Camron right?" he agreed and we proceeded to chat throughout my entire lunch break, i barely had any time to eat my Burger King Whopper with medium sprite, he invited me over to his place around 11:30 to chill and watch One Piece, and so I went back to work hoping it'd go by twice as fast, when 10 came around i heard trumpets play in my mind as i drove home to start getting ready, I hurried into the shower so i could start shaving, doing my hair and washing all the stress away from a long days hard work, getting ready i put on my freshly bought red Hollywood Lace Chemise and G-String Panties Set, and on top my grey sweats and just to match with occasion, my black Ace hoodie i bought online, Ace is my favorite character, Im all ready for this date...

Camrons house was only 15 minutes away so I asked if he wanted me to pick up some food for us, he sent me $30 and said "If its not too much trouble, can you get me some chicken nuggies please and a Dr. Pepper from Chik Fil-a , and get yourself anything you want lovely <3" after I got everything I pulled up to his place around 11:27 basically on time.

I send him a message letting him know I'm outside and he replies with "I'll be right there, but theres something you must know... im a Twitch streamer and i go by Cammydub$ on stream" he then proceeded to tell me how he's been streaming for the past hour, I didn't know what to say cause i was mildly confused and asked if he wanted me to go but he was very reluctant on me staying, saying that it would be so fun and that he's been thinking of me all day, "Okay..." i say hesitantly because it seems like I'd probably be sitting or standing there awkwardly but I've already put so much time into getting ready, it'd be a shame to let it all go to waste.

He runs to get me from my car and walks me inside saying "this is gonna be so much fun, believe me" in a reassuring way, as we get inside I meet his friend Omari, he looks like he has cute feet, and his adorable cat Bruce, we then continue our way into his "Stream room"

****

As we walk in I immediately get hit with the smell of cheese and whiskey, and boy do I like cheese, he began talking to his stream, as he was talking i saw the message board, and all i saw were messages bullying him and making fun of him for crying, i couldn't help but giggle quietly, but then I hear "now let the fun begin"

he then proceeded to grab me from the arms and start kissing me, I'm shocked but at the same time I don't fight it, as we begin to make out he asks if its okay to do this on stream, I thinks its really hot that people online are watching this go down so i give him the okay, as he smiles he starts stripping me down, starting with my hoodie he lifts it gently but swiftly, kissing every part of my skin that he reveals slowly, the only thing leaving my lips are feint gasps and light moans, then he moves on to taking my sweats off, doing the same as before but also running his fingers along the outline of my legs, "you're body drives me crazy, i cant wait to taste every part of you" feeling those words hit my ears makes me as weak and i cant help but go along with this twisted little game hes playing, as he's complimenting my matching lingerie i cant help but to say "just take it off of me and let the show begin"

Cam proceeded to shove me into the gaming chair and binds my wrists with a belt "incase you try to stop me" he says smirking, confused as to what he might do i sit in awe as he takes my panties off and starts eating me out violently with his rough tongue, he's a bit careless doing it but I like it, this goes on for what feels like forever and I cant help myself but to become putty in his mouth, the sensation of his tongue going around my clit starting off slow and progressively getting faster makes my mind go blank and i cant hold it back anymore, i try warning him but before i can utter out anything i squirt all over his face, mouth, and on the stream equipment, "Its only been 10 minutes and your body already cant control itself? get yourself together, theres still so much we have to do"

Before we continued anything he pulled out a pack of condoms asking if I'd like to use them, I reassured him I was on birth control and if he's comfortable with not using them I'm all for it, he sounded a bit persistent in using them cause apparently they were Banana flavored? I didn't like bananas so i declined, he then continued to pick me up and lay me on my stomach on his desk and tease me with his throbbing dick, so much was happening that in my dazed and stunned state of mind i could only whimper "s-s-stop messing around and fuck me monkey" I don't know what came over me to say that, but it was one of the best decisions i ever made, he then began fucking me silly on the desk, as if i was some kind of fuck toy only meant for him to use and throw away, my eyes only fixating on the messages coming in through the chat box saying "what a whore" "skank" "I cant believe she's okay with this happening" and others I cant concentrate on reading, they were all mean and degrading but all they did was turn me on more, knowing that people around the world were watching me get railed in HD was so rejuvenating and it made me want more, bouncing my ass back all i can hear is a sudden "aw fuck" from him as if he didn't expect me to get such a sudden rush of energy, taking advantage of his shock i slowly pushed him back into the chair and took over the moment, "my turn" i whisper dominantly, sitting on his member and feeling it enter me felt so good, and the impact of him rubbing all over my insides felt like ecstasy, almost as if they were made perfectly for each other, as i rode him infront of the internet i heard him whimper "Slow down, I'm about to cum" he messed up saying that dreaded sentence, cause that just made me go faster, slamming myself on him harder, and enjoying myself to the fullest extent,

It all came to a satisfying end when i heard him moan in a high pitched voice "whoah mama" as he filled me up with his seed, those moans echoed in my head for lifetimes as i got up and got dressed, and then went on to ask if he wanted food or if he wanted to still watch One Piece, But then ninjas crashed through the door and held us at knifepoint, To Be Continued....

#smut #CammyDubs

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jadelynlace · 3 years

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Ink Drinker / Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader], Chapter 6

catch up here!

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend, and co-worker: you.

pairing: Ivar x F!Reader

***content warning [PLEASE READ]: this chapter has the after effect of the trauma call, and too many emotions. surgical mentions and medical terminology are in this chapter as well. anything in italics indicates a flash back.

author’s note: I’m so sorry.

“Floki, why can I be left alone?” Ivar asked.

“Because the last time you were left alone you ended up with fifty thousand milligrams of pain killers in your stomach. Now, come here—do you know this?” Floki replied with his fingers taping the photo copied image.

“I drew that.” Ivar said back.

“Yes, you did. Where do you want it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You hate your body so much why don’t you cover it in something you like?”

It is sixteen hours that Ivar is in surgery. His world is dark, nothing but, with pierces of noises that he can recall. But trying to decipher them only makes the surroundings dull, caked in black and muffled with a buzz of an unruly bee hive. There are pokes of pain, he remembers the green light, and he remembers the pot hole he swerved to miss. He doesn’t remember how fast he was driving and the second he was over the yellow line made no difference for the sudden beast of a truck to find him.

Everything below Ivar’s powdered knee caps are reattached. Grueling hours on the table while he’s sewed back together like a monster. Enough time for Hvitserk to get clothes, to get you clothes, to pack a bag for his brother per your request. Even in the presence of clean laundry you can’t take your blues off yet—they’re holding you proper because you just saw Ivar that morning. You two made love in the low morning light, filled with ecstasy, his seed and then he made you eggs with extra hot sauce and hugged you tightly you were sure you stopped breathing. He told you to be safe, baby, like he did at the dawn of each shift and that he would call you when his last appointment was finished, and on his way back from shopping for supplies for the parlor and that you two would make lunch plans. In his speed, his haste to make sure he didn’t miss you before the two tone song of death would sing in the radios, he instead, became the reason it did.

Your chief shows up when you tell him the nature of the emergency. Pulling additional personnel on for overtime and they take the rig out of service and from your hands. Words don’t spare any differences and although he offers you a hug, when you take it he slips you a piece of paper.

“Remember the job you’re doing. And the change you’re making.” He whispers in your ear and you look at the folded sheet. It’s a photocopy of a poorly drawn fire truck with an even worse sketched stick figure, and you had scribbled it when you were five. Back when you met chief for the first time because now you hold the same badge number your father once did.

“If I give you your Dad’s old badge number, are you going to act like a jack ass like him?”

“I can’t make any promises chief.”

“I have a partner in mind for you, you’ll like him. He’s a good kid. A good medic.”

“This good kid got a name?”

“Yeah, Hvitserk. I’ll introduce the two of you.”

This is the call that shapes you as a medic, as a provider, and changes how you see things. This is the call that sends a new person out into the street, whether Ivar lives or not. This is the call that forever holds terror in your heart because he was laying in the back of your ambulance, and that was the one spot you never wanted him to occupy.

Aslaug walks through the doors and she’s already two tissues deep into a soggy mess. Hugging Hvitserk and hugging you and you wish you were meeting this woman for the first time under any other circumstance. Floki thanks you and you don’t quite know why, even though the words fall heavily and un-calming, he still thanks you. And when the surgeon returns before the four of you, you’re the only one that doesn’t stand. But he calls your name because you know him, he was lab staff that tested you for your certifications and he told you that you’ll make a damn good medic one day.

“Remember what I said on the day of your exam?” He asks and you nod, puzzled and impatient looks on the other faces. “You are a damn good medic—you both are.” He adds, eyes jumping from yours to your partners. “And it shows on this call, of all of them.” Hvitserk’s shoulder nudges you and you only nudge him back, perhaps little too hard in your delirious state. “Essentially what we did, was replant the lower portion of each leg. Now, given the extent of his injuries and how his body handles such, I don’t have a clear cut answer for you on his overall mobility. He may need to have screws implanted, he may need prosthetics. He’s going to be in the ICU for the next 48 hours for constant monitoring. We’ll have him sedated so his body can focus on what’s at stake. He’ll need physical therapy for a long time, and he’ll likely be disabled for the rest of his life, given again, how his body handles this. It’ll be a long road. But, like I said—you two are damn good medics and that is the one reason his legs were able to be saved. I will let you know when he’s moved to the ICU.”

You look back at your partner and his face is as blank as yours; influx of emotions just ready to dive from the void but your minds are still churning, still processing all of what boomed from the doctor’s mouth. Ivar’s chance at returning to a normal life was resting in your hands and you two gave the best damn efforts and they worked. The countless hours of dissection, wondering if you’re cut out for this career, these responsibilities, hours of trauma and blood and vomit all fizzle away because you now know that you are. And it just took Ivar to prove it.

When your eyes open again there’s a sharp pierce in your temple, scrunching eyes together and slowly moving, your head rises from Floki’s shoulder and the lights in the ICU have dimmed in the late hour. Impressions stood between his nostrils, falling like petals over his cheekbones, bleeding through split brows and pink flowers through the depths of his neck. His chest sinking and fainting with time, there was a moment of deafening silence when you are looking at his body; seemingly so small under the contraptions. The depths of earth, and the worst hell was seeing him lay on this cot. He’s only sedated now, even though Ivar looked of death, he was still alive under the harvest of wires. The words of how “we’re doing all that we can” do not bring any more comfort, they just take Ivar like a wave rapidly back out to sea. And now you understand how your patients, and their families feel when you speak the same phrases to them. The clinical assessments do not stop a rigorous schedule, motoring for the possible failure. The room is kept warm, and every so often when you will yourself to peek in, you can see the sheen of sweat that’s over Ivar’s forehead, dancing across his chest under the stickers, the monitors. The capillary refill on his toes show promise, and when the nurse says that to her doctor, you find yourself attempting the same motions on your thumb nail. Pressing the pink away and making room for the white, and then in a quick release, the pink swarms back. The ultra sound machines reminds you of the new equipment in your rig as it assess arterial blood flow every hour.

IV bags drip, slow and agonize and the change of wrappings, dressings and cleaning of both the limbs and Ivar himself collect. You spend hours watching the fluid levels sink, his eyes flutter, his fingers in his hand dance and you grow cold because you just want to hold him. To lock him in a steel tower and to constantly remind him how strong he is, because you know the longest road will not come from learning to walk. It will come from Ivar trying to find that he is worthy to live on.

Blackness had retired across your cheeks, wrapping a veil of makeup that melted into battle scars and you could not move if your body depended on it. Aslaug sits next to you; she takes her time wiping the makeup off from under your eyes, the soiled mascara and she’s humming to you. She had been telling you how when Ivar was young, she would sing to him and it would calm him down. How she sang to him in the hospital after he tried to overdose, tubes pumping his stomach as she blamed herself for such wrong doing. How Hvitserk blamed himself because he gave no one a warning cry. And how she’s singing to Ivar now, even though he can’t hear it, because it comforts the three of you as a whole.

When your eyes follow the nurse into the room, you can hear her say something to Ivar and you watch his head turn in confusion. Grogginess and a fog on his brain as she talks to him like it’s a normal conversation; wishing him a good morning, how the weather looks promising for a beautiful day and you wish you had that level of bed side manner. You never get the promising parts of the journey; you get the patients that are coding and in a rush to the life saving team in the hospital. You love the ones who tell you their entire live’s story in the back of the rig on the way to the emergency room, sharing details and calming your mind with how simple, and yet how different every walk of life is. The nurse says something about you, about Hvitserk and Aslaug and Floki, out and waiting and ready to see him when he’s fit. You wave through the glass and there’s the tease of a smirk on Ivar’s face, even in his slightly sedated state. A dastardly, bastard smirk and his hand lifts off the bed slightly, wiggling his fingers back to you. The tears start up again, pounding a sledge hammer through your skull after all of the unruly pressure and messes of crying as your body tries to go numb.

“Where’s my mom?” You hear Ivar say in a voice that muted slightly as the nurse stands in the door way to exit. “Can I see my mom?” And the nurse nods. Aslaug stands and kisses your hair line as she walks into the vicinity, Ivar watching her and you need to back up, you need to walk away from the room, this hall way and this battle. A faint wheeze goes through your chest and Floki catches it first before Hvitserk has a chance to lift his head and open his eyes.

“Let’s walk, dear,” Floki says and his voice is not authoritative but it still demands you to comply as he loops an arm around your shoulder. “Walking can help to clear the mind.” It’s your first time outside in almost three days, and the sunlight burns you like you had been its victim on a sand covered shoreline for one too many hours. The hospital grounds are manicured, they’re neat and arranged with an abundance of flowers and colors in the open air but everything to you still feels so dull and lifeless, pointless and hopeless and walking only churns your thoughts to double, triple in size like a snow ball rolling down a hill.

You’re finally allowed in to see Ivar and you approach slowly, like touching him will seer you suddenly, stain you with a unremovable pattern and you’ll forever be reminded. His blue eyes are dull and groggy when they open, the nasal cannula wrapping his face and your eyes dance over the scurf collecting on his jaw, and the faint bruising, cuts and scrapes on his skin.

“Hey baby,” His voice rasps and you kneel by the bed, tears already on their journeys to streak your tried skin and Ivar’s needle poked, IV covered arm comes to wipe what he can reach. “You were there, weren’t you?” And you can only nod, eyes still damp and you relish in the touch he gives you only if it’s for a second. “You saved my life, baby,” Ivar finally adds and that makes the whimper start again, the choke of a sob in your throat and he tries to quiet you, slithering a quick noise from his lips and you rest your head against the bed, his hand still on your hair.

“I drove the ambulance over a hundred miles an hour,” You finally say and they’re the first words you can use to process the trauma you two had lived through together.

“That’s my girl,” Ivar smiles, speaking with a voice that sounds like sandpaper.

“I love you Ivar—no matter what happens, I love you so much,”

“I love you too, Y/N,” Ivar says and his voice is weaker now and he needs rest. “Kiss me before you go?” He says with eyes scanning your face, and you can’t deny that now. Pressing your lips softly against his, your hands cupping his cheek and you hope it’s not the last kiss you’ll ever get from him. “I’m not going anywhere, baby,” Ivar tells you. “I’m afraid. But I’m not going anywhere,” You nod as he speaks, a forehead against his for a second and his hand is still trying to reach on you where he can. This is the man that would pull the tubes and the wires from his chest if he could, if that would make him get closer to you. “You’re stuck with me,” And there’s a faint snicker after his words, weak and drowned out from the normal tone but you’ll take it after not hearing his voice for three days.

“I’m stuck with you,” You say back with a small smile. But it still doesn’t bring enough hope.

Ink Drinker Tags:

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*please message me to let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list. specifications for series/etc. are also welcomed, as well as feedback.*

full masterlist can be found here.

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broiunno · 3 years

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License to Steal - Act IV

License to Steal

ACT IV

Act I // Act II // Act III // Act IV

---

summary: Min Yoongi is your new protection detail upon your return to your father's side after being sent away during a bloody gang war. Now the dust has settled, you've been called back to your old controlled life, and leaving you an unwilling participant in your family's plans. You don't know what they are but you are no longer willing to be the obedient, protected daughter. You don't really care in the least of it makes Yoongi's new assignment hell on earth- So you'll carve your own life out back home on your own terms.

-rating: 18+

-pairing: min yoongi x reader

-word count: 5.8k

-warnings: swearing, gang activities includes drug mention and eventual drug use, the slowest of burns, organized crime, toxic af family dynamics, BEWARE IN THIS ACT: graphic family abuse (father initiated verbal and physical assault- does not fade to black), violence, blood, graphic descriptions of torture, and graphic sex scenes will be included in this work.

-authors note: @chelsea-chee leading the au as usual. I love her the appreciate her as my love, writer, and my beta. Her works are *chefs kiss* Thank you again beautiful <3 PLEASE NOTE: I AM REALLY NOT EXCITED TO POST THE NEXT FEW ACTS. They deal with heavy subject matter and I don't fade to black at any point so please note my works are for mature audiences, warnings are there for a reason and in bold. You are an adult if you are reading this work (per the warnings) and you are responsible for the content you consume. Thank you. ILY all and I love asks about the characters. And that's all I have to say about that...I'm sorry for the wait. I've had covid. I'm back on a better schedule now.

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You fumbled with your hair as you tried to rip your fingers through the still damp strands to assemble it back into a semi-presentable pony tail as the door slid open to your father’s office. You really did wish that you had been able to go upstairs and shower. Or at least change your clothes from the workout gear you currently felt sticking to your skin from the cooling sweat. As a breeze drifted from the vent as the air kicked on, you shivered violently, shaking your head and shooting a hateful stare in Yoongi’s direction as you stepped into the office. Appearances were everything in your family. They were the first level of protection to ensure threats stayed at a minimum. A show of strength and cohesiveness discouraged any hair-brained ideas from a weaker or less organized opposition.

Your father raised a dark, thick brow, turning from the man was speaking quietly to, his expression unreadable as you inclined your head slightly in greeting. “You asked to see me?” you said quietly, keeping your eyes downcast. Since Yoongi had mentioned your father was summoning you, you knew it couldn’t be anything positive. This soon after your arrival? Nothing good would come of this. You had just grabbed onto the distraction of Yoongi until you both stood in the office, feeling stripped bare, awaiting whatever admonishment was about to be delivered.

“You couldn’t make it a full forty-eight hours without causing me a migraine,” your father said sharply and you kept your eyes trained on the floor, as you replayed yesterday in your mind.

“Father, I don’t know what you-”

“Y/N, you weren’t even back a day and you spent how much?” he said, aggravation lacing his tone. “I had to call in Kim to look at your accounts immediately. You’re a fucking hassle.” He huffed and your eyes finally lifted to the stranger that stood next to your father, noting that he stepped away from your father and bowed quickly.

“Nice to meet you, miss. I’m Kim Namjoon. I’ve been handling your accounts and will continue to do so.” You felt your lips part in a soft ‘oh’ as you studied the broad planes of his face, full lips and intense eyes. You felt like he was picking you apart in that moment as you took your time to absorb his ash blond hair in a relaxed, but carefully crafted style. His skin tone was golden; a contrast to Yoongi’s milk-like skin. He glowed, and you couldn’t tell if it from his melanin or the fact that he was radiating intelligence.

“N-Nice to meet you too,” you stammered and managed to close your mouth as he pushed up the rolled sleeves of his white button-down shirt. You swallowed hard and tried to claw through the mental fog that had overcome you. With the teasing from both Jungkook and Yoongi, being presented with another god-like man was the last thing you needed. “I will admit I’m a little confused; my spending was never a problem when I was away? I mean, it’s not like I bought a car.”

Your father barked a laugh and threw up his hands. “You have no grasp on what I do to make this money that you just piss away Y/N! And you COULD have bought a car with the amount you spent yesterday! Like I said: a god damn burden!” he hissed and you flushed slightly, taking a step back unconsciously as you watched his neck flush. Yoongi hadn’t said a word, but you knew you could still sense his dark presence in the corner of the room, not looking at him to notice his eyes narrowed slightly as the scene unfolded.

“Y/N, I’ve had an idea. You’re a daughter. I can’t do much with you. Your brother who I could actually have used is dead. Your mother-” He stopped as he watched your eyes bulge and he shook his head. “I can’t have more children. I’d consider it disrespectful to her memory,” he mused, a hand running along his chin and you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped you, but your jaw snapped shut audibly as your teeth clacked together after the noise passed your lips.

Your father’s eyes flared to life in challenge and he glanced at Namjoon, lip curling. “Did you calculate her estimated cost of living and monthly expenditures? Do you have solid numbers?” he said shortly and Namjoon just nodded, eyes flicking between the family members silently. “And did you adjust for a profit at the margin we discussed?”

“Yes sir,” came the deep steady voice, Namjoon’s eyes traveling your figure, his gaze not heavy with lust or desire, but full of curiosity. “The monthly amount that you should request for that profit is in the proposal if you would like to review it.” He finished and cleared his throat. “I can return if you want me to look over the contract,” he said softly, clearing fishing for a dismissal and your father granted it, offering his hand and you felt your mouth tighten in confusion.

“What contract?”

Namjoon grabbed a briefcase and inclined his head to you stiffly in farewell before his long legs carried him out the doorway. Your father’s gaze didn’t leave your eyes as he spoke. “Yoongi, see him out.” Yoongi nodded and started after the tall man in silence, not sparing you a second glance on his way out.

“I asked you what contract?” you said softly, struggling to keep your voice even as your father stepped closer to you.

“Well, you went out. Spent a lot of money that you’ve done nothing to earn, and caught someone’s eye in the process. Someone worth a lot of money and who would be an asset to have closer to the family at this point in his career.” Your father clasped his hands behind his back as he continued to close the distance between you, each step he made, you felt your heart plummet further.

“Father… what exactly are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, Y/N. I’m telling you. Someone’s made a bid for your hand, and it’s the only thing you’ll be good for at this point. The shopping sprees, your lifestyle. I can maintain them, but if someone else is willing to do so, and the marriage benefits me in my business, I’d be stupid not to pursue it. Do you think I’m stupid, Y/N?” he said, voice getting dangerously quiet as he reached out to tuck a piece of hair that had escaped the rapidly put-up ponytail behind your ear.

“You can’t sell me off like fucking cattle!-” you said, flinching away from his touch, and his large, calloused hand shot out to grab your chin tightly. He forced your face back towards his as you tried to jerk away, squeezing hard enough to make your eyes begin to water. Your heart thudded out a dangerous irregular rhythm as you breathed hard through your nose.

“I can’t? Y/N, you seem to be under the delusion that you are free from the responsibilities that come with being in this family. I suppose that may be my fault. I was too soft on you, pitied the losses I caused you to have. I always had your brother anyway; there was no harm in indulging you. But now, you’re the only one with my blood in your veins. You’re home to do a service for this family. Everyone else has given their lives in some way. Did you think you were special?” His words were measured and cold as he studied you, grip not loosening on your face. You would be bruised tomorrow as you felt the throb set in from the pressure he was applying.

“You may order me to do it, but I don’t have to go along with this,” you hissed, barely able to open your jaw, but clenching your teeth to get your words out, rage licking up and down your body. He had taken your entire life as a child, as an adolescent. Did he really think giving you a few years of freedom put you back in his debt so far that you owed him the rest of your life?!

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth you heard the sharp crack, and felt yourself stumbling backwards into the wall. You blinked quickly as you registered the pain in your head, immediately starting to pound as the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth. You barely had time to regain a semblance of your bearings before your father was upon you again, face chillingly blank as his ringed fingers gripped the base of your ponytail, ripping your head back at an awkward angle, a scream breaching your bloody lips. The noise was cut short by another blow, snapping your head to the side before he jerked your face back to center.

“Who do you think you are, you little bitch?” he said with a lilt to his tone as you choked out a sob, unable to keep it from escaping your lips. “You really thought you weren’t going to do shit to replace that money you spent?” When he finished speaking he gave your head a violent shake, as if to scramble your thoughts further. It was completely unnecessary, as your head felt as if it was splitting with the pain he had rocked through you with his blows and harsh grip. You felt the start of a purely hysterical giggle break through, spitting out the fresh rush of blood that ran in your mouth due to the cuts in your cheek from your teeth. You noticed a piece of the skin from inside your mouth flapping loosely that made you nauseated if you dwelled on it.

The laugh was probably the worst response you could have had.

You heard a soft hiss, and your father stepped into your space further, hands darting from your head to wrap themselves around your throat and squeezing. As your hands scrambled to scratch at his hand, his arm, his face, anything, you wished you were surprised at this. You wished you were hurt because you were shocked, but you weren’t. There was blood in the water and he was a shark. He built his life this way.

“You don’t have to go along with this…” he said softly, voice void of emotion, “but you also don’t have to keep living here either. How long will you make it without this family? You’d never make it out of the city.” He mused and continued to squeeze, your vision starting to spot as you tried to draw in any bit of air within the hold he had, the choking heaves under the weight of him making the blood that had pooled in your mouth from his blows spill over your chin grotesquely as it began to stream onto his hand. “So will you behave for once in your fucking life?”

You were hyper aware of the tears streaming down your face as you managed the smallest of nods. You supposed he was right; you had never imagined you would be used in the family in any way. Your entire life had been lonely, and even though you hated it, you had resigned yourself to it. His hands unwrapped themselves from your neck, letting you inhale a burning gasp of air as you slid down the wall, and onto the floor. You coughed and rocked forward onto all fours as the shaking of your body didn’t allow for much more than consciousness.

Your father pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the crimson of your blood off his hand before tossing it to you on the floor. You could barely recognize the quick but unhurried footsteps coming back down the hallway to the office before they stopped short.

“Yoongi, take her upstairs.”

The flush from hustling back to his boss’s office drained from Yoongi’s face as his eyes widened at your figure hunched forward onto your elbows on the floor. He watched you hack as your body tried to clear your airway. Yoongi stayed silent as he reached down, crouching next to you and attempting to offer you a hand so you could stand on your own, for which you were thankful. You felt the physical pain, but no emotions as your mind sluggishly screamed at you to just accept his hand and stand. You needed to walk out of here on your own. You knew you wouldn’t make it all the way to your room after the assault, but you didn’t need to. Just to the elevator.

You reached out your hand, shaking hard, as you clasped at his large palm and hoisted yourself up, letting him pull lightly as he stood with you, noting that he was still silent. You tried to ignore how your vision swam before you, willing your knees not to buckle. You couldn’t pinpoint if the unsteadiness was from the blows to your face, the lack of oxygen, or the tears that had thankfully stopped streaming down your face but still filled your eyes.

Yoongi seemed to read your mind, shifting his grip from your hand to your upper arm, nestling in your underarm and gently steered you to the door, but let you support most of your weight on the way out. You walked in silence as he didn’t rush you down the hallway, both of your eyes trained on the lift door as he typed in the code. As you waited for the door to open you felt your shaking legs betray you and start to bend. You glanced away from him, the movement of your eyes causing a piercing pain to shoot through your head. “Please,” was all you rasped wetly as you put more weight and started to sink, but the pressure holding you up immediately doubled, Yoongi’s support forcing you upright, even if it made your shoulder raise. It would be almost imperceptible from your father’s office if he was still looking in your direction, but you doubted he would. He had already received your submission; he didn’t need you for anything else.

Yoongi didn’t seem to want to take the chance that he was still watching, stepping into the elevator and continuing to only hold you in one place. His grip was still disguised as if he was walking you out in the same way he may escort an associate who was no longer welcome - in such a manner that would deter any further escalation. No one would be able to tell he was the only thing keeping you upright.

As the door slid shut to the elevator the facade crumbled, you lurching forward and gasping out a sob of pain, tilting your head down to let the blood that had been collecting in your mouth pour out onto the floor. You forgot how much mouth wounds bled. Yoongi was not bothered with the grotesque display as he swiftly adjusted his grip to wrap around your shoulders, his other arm sweeping at your feet as he lifted you with apparent ease. You shut your eyes as the tears began to flow once more, unable to restrain the moans and whimpers of pain that escaped between gasps as you cried. He still hadn’t said a word, even as you turned your face into his suit jacket, inhaling jaggedly as you tried to focus on the scent permeating from him, trying to place it through your snot-filled nose. The only thing you could recognize was the warm, woodsy scent of patchouli as you reached a shaking hand up to hold onto his jacket tightly. You knew he wouldn’t drop you, but it grounded you all the same.

You tried to slow your breathing, but failed as the elevator door opened and Yoongi strode quickly to your bedroom door, bending at the knees and somehow using his crook of his elbow and his body to turn the door knob, the only change in your positioning being that you tilted slightly as he spun it. He kicked the door with his foot gently as he stepped in, by-passing your bed as he carried you into your bathroom, carefully getting on his knees as he lowered you into your large bathtub as he placed you there. You continued to breath quickly, your gasps becoming sharper as your gentle shaking soon became uncontrollable. You released his jacket as he stood and you pulled your knees to your chest, shutting your eyes finally as you heard the tap briefly run before a cool rag brushed your chin, eyes flying open as you flinched away.

“Shh, I need to see your face. I have to get the blood off,” Yoongi whispered, and you finally looked at him, noting his face was still paler than normal. “Princess, I need you to take a slow, deep breath okay? Can you do that? Your lips are turning blue; you’re hyperventilating. You’re safe,” he murmured, brows pinching together in a pained expression you had never seen on his face as you tried to nod, attempting to take a long breath in but ended up gulping in air multiple times on the way, the blurring of your vision worsening as Yoongi grimaced, your breathing speeding up again, your shoulders shrugging with the effort to take in air. The last thing you heard was Yoongi’s tense exclamation of “Shit!” before you blacked out.

When you awoke, you were under the covers of your large bed. You sat up quickly before groaning from the ache in your head, then realizing that opening your mouth made you want to scream from pain. Between the squeeze on your jaw and the cuts inside your mouth, it was safe to say you would be saying very little for a while. You glanced towards the window, noting it was inky black outside.

“How long has he hit you?” came a cool voice from beside your bedside and you turned to face the source, seeing a figure standing beside the small table, casting a shadow with the aid of a lamp. Had he even left? Yoongi had shed his stained suit jacket, but still wore the white shirt and same suit pants. You only knew it was the same shirt due to the blood stain from where your mouth must have painted him. Instead of attempting to speak, you shrugged in an attempt to get his gaze off of you. It was piercing and unnerving. You felt as if this was the beginning of an interrogation, and you didn’t fail to notice the color had still not returned to his normally pale face. Now that your mind was a bit clearer you were able to recognize why it registered so deeply with you. He was the embodiment of white with fury. “How. Long?” he said again with such harshness you swallowed hard, ignoring the fire that licked down your throat as you did so.

“That’s a joke right? He’s always been like that. I just normally am better at avoiding it,” you forced out; your words were almost incoherent as you tried to move your jaw as little as possible as you spoke. That was bearable. Good. Not that you had expected it to be, but at least your jaw wasn’t broken; that would have been a pain in the ass. “What time is it?”

“It’s three am,” Yoongi hissed as his eyes glimmered in the near darkness, pushing off the wall and grabbing a glass of water off the table and sweeping a few pills into his hand. “Take these.” You took his offering and a small sip of the water before carefully throwing the pills to the back of your throat and washing them down, sighing softly. “They’re pain pills. They’ll help and you’ll be able to go back to sleep in a bit.”

You didn’t answer but pulled back the cover of your bed and slid out, noting that your bloody shirt had been changed but you still had on your sports bra and leggings. And your ponytail had been taken down, which was probably a good thing since your scalp was still aching from the hold your father had you in.

“Y/N… don’t.” Came Yoongi’s voice, still unemotional but a bit gentler than his earlier tone. You didn’t turn back to him but stopped your path to your vanity, obviously trying to look at your reflection in the mirror to assess the damage.

“Is it that bad?” you grumbled, turning to him and you watched him shrug.

“It’s not good. Don’t worry about it tonight. No bones are broken from what I can tell. I wiped you down the best I could. Just change once I leave and get back into bed.”

You let out a deep breath but finally stepped towards your closet instead to grab an oversized t-shirt. You could work the bra off under it and slip your pants off once you had it on. “Why did you even stay?” you said softly as you set to work, your muscles aching as you attempted to change modestly. You don’t know why it even mattered, but in this moment it did.

“I needed to know if he had done this before. I needed to know if this was the first time. When we were kids, you weren’t around all the time. Sometimes, I’d go months without seeing you. I didn’t know if this was a part of it,” he spat out, visibly tensing as he took a loud steadying breath.

You shrugged as you pulled off your leggings, successful in stripping your bra off under the shirt, and padded back to your bed. “There were a few reasons he kept me separated from everyone. It wasn’t all because he thought I was too precious to see any of this.” You climbed back into bed and tried to settle back into the plushness. Yoongi took a step closer to you, his mouth slightly open as he watched you try to get comfortable, seemingly unable to stop himself.

“Y/N…” he said softly and reached a hand towards you and you stiffened, eyes narrowing, and he took note, dropping his hand slowly.

“Yoongi, I never asked for your fucking pity.”

“I know, and it makes me want to help you even more.”

You blinked and tried to register what he was implying. “Help me?” you repeated, shaking your head as you felt the same hysterical laugh bubble up that had made your assault that much worse in your father’s office. “No one can help me!” You laughed, eyes widening as the smile twisted your features. “This is my life, this is what I was born into. This is what all those shiny things cost, Yoongi! I always knew it but I forgot.” You watched as the pained expression from earlier slid back over his features, and you raised your eyebrows in response. “I appreciate it, but unless you’re willing to put a bullet in my fucking head there’s no saving anything.”

“Who says it has to be your head, Princess?” he said gently and you swear you felt the world stop.

“Don’t say shit like that Min,” you hissed, baring your teeth and shaking your head. “Even if we don’t always get along, I don’t want you dead too.”

“Whatever you say Princess,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips as he cocked his head to the side. “Are you alright to sleep? You don’t feel like you’re going to vomit?” he asked seriously, watching as you shook your head.

“I don’t have a concussion,” you grumbled but as you watched him smirk and go to grab his jacket you felt your heart speed up. “Yoongi- w-wait.” He immediately stopped, as if he was anticipating your words. “Can you stay here the rest of the night? I know he won’t do anything but I-”

“Let me go change my clothes. Is that okay Princess?”

“Yeah… I just don’t want to be-”

“It’s fine Y/N. I’ll be right back.” You stayed sitting up, watching him as he dismissed your attempts at explanations and justification as he walked out.

You sighed, leaning against the leather headboard and let your breathing even out, even as your heart still raced. The pain began to slowly ebb as the medication took effect; what had you even taken? It had to be something strong as a comfortable fog began to cloud your thoughts.

You didn’t know why you felt the need to have him here. Did you even need to explain? He was technically your bodyguard. You had known each other most of your lives. You had just suffered through an assault; staying with you was reasonable. Even if the assailant wasn’t unknown, nor were the motives. At the end of the day, Yoongi’s presence made breathing a bit easier. His presence made you feel safe.

The door opened again and you sucked in a breath as Yoongi re-entered your bedroom, one hand carrying his gun and holster, the other a hanger with a clean pressed suit. “I’ll wake up before you,” was all he said in response to your surprised expression as he studied you. He mistook the shock on your face as being accredited to the suit. He was an idiot if he thought you cared about the fact he would dress here. You were too busy drinking in the sight of his lean figure in low-slung grey sweatpants. You tried to rip your gaze back to his face but you got caught on the black ribbed tank top and the swirling black tattoos covering his shoulder and chest before disappearing under the material.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos,” you choked out, feeling your face flush and mentally slapping yourself. He may look like sex on legs, but you looked like you just had the shit beat out of you. Which to be fair to yourself, you actually just had the shit beat out of you.

“Oh, I forgot,” he said, a small smirk tilting his lip up but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He draped his suit over the chair to your vanity and carried his gun with him towards the plush armchair in the corner of the room.

“The bed is big enough Min. I won’t touch you,” you said breathlessly, trying to force away the blush that was deepening across your face. He seemed to freeze and take a few steadying breaths.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Princess.” His voice was controlled but quiet.

“Please Yoongi…” you said just as quietly. “It’s just for tonight. I won’t feel safe if you’re all the way over there.”

It was definitely an over exaggeration. You hadn’t really expected him to even agree to stay in your room with you. The chair was the reasonable option. You knew you were pushing it.

“Princess, I-” He breathed, the airiness of his tone making your belly somersault and it gave you a tiny shiver.

“Yoongi, please. I need you next to me. Just tonight.” You shouldn’t be so worried about getting this man into bed with you, but now that he was here in front of you and it was so close to happening, you felt you might cry if he denied you.

You watched his back muscles rippled as he tensed and tried to relax. He turned wordlessly and walked to the opposite side of the bed, setting his holster down and climbing into the king-sized bed with you. “Go to sleep Princess.”

The drugs had to be prescriptions, not that you really expected a member of an organized crime family to just take a regular aspirin when they were in pain. “Is the oxy working yet? It should start soon if it hasn’t.” You hummed your assent as you squirmed down into the bed and tried to keep the smile from your face as you reached over and turned out the lamp. You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, savoring the heat that quickly built from having two bodies under the covers of your bed, ignoring the slightly annoyed sigh from the other side of the bed.

“Be quiet Min, I’m trying to rest,” you said softly and a soft dry chuckle cut through the silence as you let sleep take you.

Yoongi’s POV

Yoongi listened to the soft sounds of your breathing as they lengthened and deepened, the pain pills having done their job perfectly. If only he could have done his job in such a manner. He had been given a job: to keep you safe, and he took it seriously. Even if the one assigning his work was an abusive piece of shit. Yoongi let out a sigh, glancing over at your figure in the dark to make sure his huff hadn’t disturbed your slumber. It didn’t. You were still laying there, eyes closed and unaware, your face turned towards him to afford him a view of what exactly your father had done in his absence.

He felt his teeth grind against each other as even in the dark, he could make out the near black bruises covering your neck in the clear shape of hands, a bloom crossing your smooth cheek as well. Even your chin and jaw were dark from bruising; evidence that your father had held your face to force submission. It had worked. He opened his mouth and stretched his own jaw to try and stop himself from continuing to grind his molars down to nothing in rage. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to forget how you looked and how he felt when he entered the office, watching the blood drip onto the floor. How he wanted nothing more than to simply pull out his gun and lodge a bullet into your father’s knee before proceeding to swing the butt of his gun down onto him until he shattered every bone in the pig’s disgusting face.

Until he begged him to stop. Until he begged his daughter to tell Yoongi to stop.

The daydream made Yoongi smile a full gummy smile and chuckle for the first time today. He would stop when you told him to. If you told him to. Now that he knew your father had put his hands on you before this, he wondered if you would just let him continue until his mania at seeing what had been done to you was sated. He knew it wouldn’t be until he heard your father’s death rattle, knowing it had been at his own hands.

You stirred slightly to readjust in your sleep, drawing his attention back to the present as you moved closer to him in the bed and he sucked in a breath. Even beaten and bruised you affected him. Even carrying you in that elevator down the hall as you clutched onto him. He had been spiraling down into violence but as soon as you grabbed his jacket, he knew you wouldn’t withstand even him raising his voice to anyone without shattering. You were normally so fierce and seeing you broken made him want to tear apart this entire society you both lived in, even if it was all either of you had ever known.

It was then he had decided he would be what you were asking of him with your sobs and how you clutched onto him; he would be as gentle as could be and give you whatever you needed tonight. Tomorrow he would begin the undertaking of dismantling your father piece by fucking piece.

He had watched over you after you passed out; you had woken up briefly for him to get you to take pain medicine once before you actually were able to speak to him. Before you asked him to stay with you. He wanted to pretend it didn’t make his icy heart crack, the way you tried to explain and justify his presence. He would never ask you to in this kind of situation. When Yoongi returned to his room, he attempted to steel himself for a night of sitting in that uncomfortable chair, and a sleepless day tomorrow. He had gone more than twenty-four hours without sleep before.

But when your eyes, even if they had started to become glossy and dilated from the drugs, began to run over him, he had to try and think of every unsexy thing he could fathom. You had just been fucking violated and just with one look he felt the blood travel away from his brain and pool below his waist. Why did he think he would be able to wear sweatpants while staying with you? You destroyed every semblance of self control he had. He still hadn’t forgotten your teasing in the elevator prior to this shit show.

Then your soft drowsy voice had called out to him just as he had regained his mental fortitude and continued to the chair. You would be the fucking death of him and he didn’t think he would really mind. Now, as he laid here in bed with you trying to ignore the fact that you were shifting closer to him in your sleep, seeking his warmth, he closed his eyes. He had anticipated the pure fury of tonight keeping him awake, but instead it was the fact that he could feel your breath on his neck, that if he turned his head back to you he could still make out your absolutely gorgeous feminine form from under the blankets. The dip in your waist and the curve of your hips, sloping into your soft thigh. Yoongi’s eyes shot open as he let out a soft hiss as he felt his member stiffen in his sweats, one large hand reaching down to palm himself, and he willed his hard-on to disappear.

He dropped his eyes again, confident he would get his bulge to go down without waking you, and as he tended to it, a soft small hand reached across his middle, making his forehead furrow. He tried to take a steadying breath, and tried to not imagine that the events of last night weren’t the reason he was in your bed. That you had just invited him to bed because you wanted him there, not for security but because you wanted him as a man to share your bed and body. That he could roll over to face you, slip his own hand up that oversized shirt and rub soft circles into your skin before slipping his hand down in-between your thighs.

Yoongi felt his cock twitch and himself harden further, forcing another deep breath in and out as he circled back to try and think of grotesque things to make his longing subside. You at least had stopped wriggling in the bed in an attempt to get closer; he was thankful for that. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried to calm his heart and regulate his breath to make it possible for him to drift off.

This was going to be a long night.

#bts suga #bts ff #bts x reader #mafia!bts #bts gang au #bts imagines #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #btsxarmy #License to steal

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prof-peach · 3 years

Note

The post about Reggie raises an interesting question. How does evolution interact with disability in pokemon? Evolution involves rapid cellular regeneration and generation of mass, so would that repair a disabled pokemon? Or do they just evolve with their disability intact? Like, if a Machoke loses an arm and then evolves into a Machamp, would it regrow up to 4, or would it still have 3?

This is quite a deep topic, and the short answer is that each species will have a different amount of damage that can be repaired upon evolution.

For example, a bug or plant pokemon, on average, will be capable of regrowing whole limbs, restoring senses, even mutating past what is common due to evolution (ie, unusual colourations, MORE legs and arms, or a heightened sense to make up for a lesser one). We see significant repair in these species due to their cell types and the nature of their species, often encasing in caccoons or sleeping through long winters to not only evolve, but regain lost strength. Just recently we’ve seen a Roselia with none of its typical roses evolve, and suddenly sprout beautiful flowers as a Roserade. Equally so, Treeko have slowly been shown to regrow limbs over time, but more prominently will replace lost arms or legs upon evolution should they have the energy and stores to do so. Usually this leaves them with some scars, or a join where the old and new tissue meets, but they do repair. As for bug types, their metamorphosis is usually a sudden burst of stored energy, and in a lot of cases the pokemon will shed skin, or literally develop a secondary body within the shell of its original one, regrowing lost parts.

This process is however not the same for more, hm, whats the word...fleshy? no, thats not right. Mammalian? maybe. “Ordinary” isn't quite right either. However its described, pokemon with more traditional cell structure are less likely to repair fully upon evolution. With the case of Reggie, he’s a Rockruff, and pretty straight forward in terms of evolution. Theres no real regenerative cells within him, and his body is not built to hold energy long term to put into evolution in one burst, its more of an accumulative energy gain over longer amounts of time, no shedding of cells, no real ability to regrow things. Should he decide to evolve it would be highly unlikely that he would regain his back legs, BUT his evolution may have differences to help him with his balance, or give him a heightened sense of smell or hearing to give him a boost for his chances of survival. Ive also seen evolution with cases like his not regrow body parts, but at least heal nerve endings. Some loss can result in pain, damaged cells and the likes can cause discomfort. A lot of evolution can fix that, and its common to see pokemon who are uncomfortable after serious injury become less aggravated by pains and aches as they grow. When explored medically we do see a difference in those nerve endings before and after evolution, and its quite evident that they do reform and repair upon the change.

Like i said at the start, each pokemon will handle evolution with prior injury differently. While some can lose eyes and ears and never regrow them even with the process, others will come back with a whole new set. Scars and damaged tissues do lessen and heal, but not every pokemon will lose them all together. Dragon pokemon have a habit of highlighting the scars they gain as youngsters, as an intimidation tactic. They may look larger or worse, but they are in fact better healed, just more prominent. In this typing it seems to give Dragons a meaner look, and often rival pokemon will dodge those who have taken serious wounds and survived, deeming them very strong and difficult to down.

As opposed to the dragons, Fairy types are linked very strongly to healing and regeneration, holding much mystery and beauty in their actions and appearances. Though they may lose limbs, they don’t often retain scarring, and evolving tends to repair any lost senses.

This whole type based evolutionary healing gets even more complicated when we look at pokemon who are dual type. A grass-fairy pokemon such as Morelull can, and will regain limbs, as well as negate scars. While a Dragon-ground type like Vibrava actually heals all scars and also missing limbs, not something dragon pokemon do often.

You mentioned Machamp and its many arms, and this is something i’ve seen a few trainers handling. They tend to have 3 arms, not 4, if they lose an arm in a prior evolution. The body they once had was hatched/born or evolved to have 2 arms, losing one doesn't change that, it simply means they lost one afterwards, but the cells at the start still generated to have a pair. once evolved they add two more arms, doesn't matter what number they had before, even if its none, we've seen Machamp with just two arms because of this. The species also can have defects upon hatching/birth, and even carry these issues on through evolution, ending up as a Machamp with no arms, who have to focus their attention to kicking and using their feet for tasks.

Though evolution is a bit mysterious, theres definitely a pattern to it depending on a pokemons typing. some groups have a real advantage while others do not, and a lifetime of adapting and overcoming things like missing arms or legs can push a pokemon to evolve in new and unusual ways to enhance its chance of survival, and allow it to live a far more adaptive life, should its cells and genetics allow for this. We find pokemon have just as many physical differences as us humans, and can live full and very happy lives even without their standard forms.

Its worth noting, the examples given here are averages, there is every chance that a pokemon will evolve differently based on its genetics, lifestyle, and even things like immune systems and heritage. Oddly enough though, Grass pokemon are sometimes perfect candidates for limb transplants, which seems to be something very unusual when talking about missing parts, no other group seems to share this ability.

I could just keep going on about this but honestly its so broad, with over 800 species, all of which able to tolerate and handle different things, i’d need specifics to go into further detail about an individual species ability to evolve and heal, or not in some cases.

#cw injury #cw surgery #pokemon #prof.peach #peach talks

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jinx-jade · 3 years

Text

AWBE Chapter 13: to be seen without pity.

Marinette let out a huff as she laid on top of her bed, staring at the ceiling.

She had begun to envy her time at the temple and League.

Marinette knows that it’s a horrible thought to have and she should never want to willingly go back there.

What were they expecting from her with the way people are treating her.

At least while she was with the league or at the temple, people weren’t treating her like she was someone to pity. Like she was a cracked glass, ready to shatter at any given moment.

The feelings of pity radiating off of anyone and everyone she has had contact with the past month were driving her insane.

Doctors.

Nurses.

Therapists.

Police officers.

The Police commissioner.

Aunt Penny.

Uncle Jagged.

The list goes on and on, even though the people she's allowed contact with are very limited.

She hasn't even had the chance to say hi to her older brother, her fox, or her cat.

She couldn't help but wonder if those three would treat her like this as well.

How much was she asking of people to treat her like a regular person?

How much was she asking of people to treat her with more than just pity and sugar-coated words?

She was getting sick and tired of being treated like this.

Of course, Marinette doesn’t plan on telling one that this is how she feels.

She couldn’t ‘tell’ anyone anyway. Even if she wanted to because her voice still wasn’t back.

Okay, that’s a lie.

Her voice works just fine when she speaks to the kwamis.

Her voice works just fine when she’s talking to herself.

Her voice works just fine when she’s talking to plants and animals.

Her voice doesn’t work with anyone else.

Marinette had tried to talk to people by not looking at them, not saying anything about the league, the temple, Hawkmoth, or the miraculi, but it didn’t work.

In addition to that any time someone is within a five-mile radius of her, Marinette’s magic picks it up and her voice disappears.

It's not like she could just turn her ability to sense people off. It is a skill that has become the same as the skill to breathe. It was a skill you don't even think about when you're doing it, and a skill that you can't just stop doing.

Marinette let out another huff before sitting up off the bed.

She quickly changed into a pair of leggings and a wrap shirt she had made in her spare time. Jagged and Penny being happy to buy her whatever fabrics, supplies, anything she needs or wants really.

Grabbing a backpack, Marinette placed her sketchbooks, Pens, Pencils, and erasers inside the bag.

Marinette sent a quick text message to her Aunt and Uncle, letting them know that she will be in the garden, before placing her phone in the bag with the rest of her things.

The gardens were always rather calming and quiet.

Just not today.

Marinette had already been in the garden for ten, fifteen minutes when a dog came barreling into her.

She tried to coo at the great dame but her voice caught in her throat.

It made sense since the owner was probably nearby.

Except this was the backyard of Stone Manor.

How did the dog even get back here in the first place?

Her question was answered when a man around her age slipped through a person-sized gap in the fence. The area was covered in vines and soft plants so it made sense that she hadn't noticed it before.

Marinette let herself appear, uncaring to the man as she giggled at the dog that was nosing her for attention.

She observed his energy and had to stop herself from physically freezing.

Her neighbor is the bartender?

He seemed to freeze upon seeing her playing with his dog. The man simply awkwardly stood there until the dog, Titus the name tag read, ran over to him and gave him a push.

The man walked a bit closer, leaving more than enough space for her not to feel crowded, and cleared his throat. She pretended to notice and looked up at him, blinking a few times before offering a smile.

"I apologize for Titus. I hadn't even known there was a way he could get out of our yard." The man said as Titus ran back to her for more pets.

Marinette nodded her head as she scratched behind the dog's ears.

The man watched her play with Titus for a bit before she realized that she never gave him her name.

Taking out a spare sheet of paper, she quickly scribbled down her name before offering the paper to the man.

He looked at her questioningly before reading the paper.

He paused to look at her before looking at the paper again.

"Marinette?" The man questioned.

Marinette simply nodded her head and pointed to herself.

That made the man furrow his brows.

"Can you not talk?" The man questioned, clearly confused.

Marinette nodded her head.

"But you talked at the bar." The man stated.

Marinette nodded again.

"Why can't you talk now?" The man questioned.

Marinette looked at him, really looked at him, observing his body language and energy.

He didn't pity her.

He was simply confused.

He didn't quite lack social skills, they just weren't easy for him.

Almost as if he hadn't learned them till much later.

Marinette paused when she could sense the Lazarus pits on him, but he most likely hadn't been in contact with them for at least a decade with how faded the energy was.

The energy made her want to try something.

Taking out another piece of paper, she asked for his name.

"My apologies, that was quite rude of me. I am Damian Wayne, and that's my dog, Titus." The man, Damian, introduced himself.

Marinette looked at him for a few moments before pointing to her throat, then at her head.

She proceeded to draw a symbol on the paper, writing something down next to it.

When Damian looked at the paper he tensed, reading it out loud to make sure it was correct.

"The doctors said I was traumatized by the bad people." He read, turning the paper to face her. "This symbol belongs to the 'bad people?" Damian questioned, receiving a nod from Marinette.

Damian looked at her with a new weariness, as if she was a weapon instead of a cracked glass about to shatter, and kwami was it nice to not feel someone's pity.

"Why are you telling me this?" Damian questioned cautiously.

Marinette handed him another piece of paper.

"You have the Lazarus pits energy on you. It's faded, so my gut says you're safe." Damian read out loud again.

He looks at her for a bit before letting out a sigh and taking a seat next to her, Titus happily laying his head down in Damian's lap.

Damian took one of her pencils and wrote a number on the paper before handing it back to Marinette.

She looked at the paper with curiosity.

"You'll run out of paper if you keep talking like that. Texting would be more effective." Damian said as if that train of thought wasn't missing a few details.

Marinette took the number and added it to her phone.

_______________

+1(***)-***-****

: Why do I need your number to talk to you?

_______________

Damian looked at her confused before releasing his mistake.

"You just got out of the League. I'm originally from the League. If you want to talk about something that happened there I would be the best person to talk to." Damian explains.

Marinette tilted her head in thought before shrugging with a nod of her head.

_______________

Marinette

: but why would you do that?

_______________

Damian looked up from his phone and raised a brow at her.

"You said it yourself, your gut feeling is that I'm safe. Plus I've probably been through something similar to you." Damian said with a shrug.

Marinette thought about it for a moment before shrugging.

They ended up sitting in somehow comfortable silence for the next hour or two.

Marinette only left to head back inside when she got a text from Penny that it was time to eat, so she has to go back inside.

Titus let out a whine when she stood up to leave.

_______________

Marinette

: it was nice to meet you again

_______________

" you as well Marinette."

With that Damian and Titus went back to their side of the wall, and Marinette back into the manor.

tag list: @liquid-luck-00 @lunathealphafemale @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @dorkus-minimus @istoleyourcookies @itsmeevie01 @ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole @miraculousfanfic127 @macncheesemonster @fan-written @moonlightstar64 @the-one-woman-army @remy-289 @ramos123 @jjmjjktth @ash-amg @glastwime859 @alysrose-starchild @elizabeths-rambles @animegirlweeb @iamabrownfox @northernbluetongue @thecaptainthunder @meismu @nyx-in-line @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @m3owww @icerosecrystal @legends-live-in-memories @salty-fang @a-marlene-s @savagenutella46 @elliebelliegirl @fangirlfox12 @miraculouspenta @t1dwarrior-of-earth @alittlemelody716 @charme-de-malchan @what-even-am-i-tho @raven-campanile @toodaloo-kangaroo @laurcad123 @iamabrownfox @maskedpainter @our-preciousss @jayjayspixiepop @kking13 @stainedglassm @always-a-fangirl146 @corporeal-terrestrial

#maribat #awbe #angel with blue eyes

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scoopsahoy · 3 years

Note

hi can u do a sequel to the derek pregnancy fic where u were pregnant for a full nine months and go into labor one night when yall r asleep

ぺ word count ⋰ 1.8k

✰ tw ⋰ none :)

❍ cw ⋰ birth

ꨃ part one

✐ masterlist

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

You opened your eyes to a sharp pain in your back and stomach, causing a sharp breath to enter through your nose.

“Jesus,” you whispered to yourself. You gently pulled Derek’s arm, which was wrapped around your stomach, off of you. You sat up with a struggle, as you were heavily pregnant. You looked at the alarm clock to see it was almost six o’clock in the morning.

The pregnancy was nine months, meaning the baby would be human. You found out at five months that it was going to be a girl, and Derek couldn’t wait to have a tiny version of you running around his loft.

It was a rough nine months. It destroyed your knees, hips, ankles, and gave you massive, dark stretch marks. You’d become insecure about them, but Derek didn’t care.

He was sad that you were insecure about them. He called them your ‘battle scars’, always making sure to make you feel better about yourself when you looked in the mirror.

Even having been with him for over three years, you’d never seen the sensitive side of him that came out when you got pregnant. He made you breakfast, massaged your feet, and would even help you wash your hair sometimes.

You loved it, you just wish he’d been like this the whole time you knew him.

Moving his arm woke him up, and he reached over and lightly ran his hand up and down your back.

“You okay?” he mumbled, still half asleep.

“I think so-”

Just then, you felt a massive puddle forming under you. It dripped onto the floor and you felt a pressure in your belly.

“Derek,” you said in a monotone voice, standing up. You looked at the wet spot on the bed, and he did too.

“Did you pee yourself?” he asked innocently.

“I think my water just broke.” That seemed to wake him up, because he immediately shot out of bed. “Get the hospital bag,” you told him as he slipped his shirt on. He nodded and practically ran to the other side of the loft, returning with a crossbody bag.

He helped you put your shoes on and when you stood back up, he took your hand, helping you to the elevator.

You’d never seen him so nervous and distraught, anxiety reeking from his body. When you got outside and to his car, he made sure you were strapped in before running to the driver’s side and zooming to the hospital.

When you arrived, he didn’t even bother parking straight. He dragged you inside, calling out for help. You both looked up to see Scott’s mom, Melissa. You let out a sigh of relief when she ran over, followed by a nurse with a wheelchair.

You eagerly sat down in it, letting them wheel you to a room you didn’t even know the number for.

Once you were changed into a hospital gown, you laid in the bed, an IV in your arm, and bracelets on your wrist. Derek sat next to you, holding your hand.

“Have you had any contractions yet?” Melissa asked.

“No, not yet.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Sometimes water will break before contractions start, but they should get here soon.”

“I didn’t think you worked in obstetrics,” you said as you adjusted the blankets.

“I don’t. I figured I’d stay with you for a minute though. Is there anyone you want to call?”

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot.” You looked at Derek. “Can you grab me my phone?” He nodded, pulling it out of his pocket. “Thanks.” You opened it and scrolled through your contacts, finding the name Stiles.

Stiles was one of your best friends, and he was eager when you announced the pregnancy. He told you he wanted to be there when you gave birth and made you promise you’d tell him when you went into labor.

Even if it was six in the morning.

You held the phone up to your ear, hearing it ring a few times.

“Hello?” said the groggy voice on the other line.

“Hey, what are you up to?”

“Sleeping,” he said simply.

“Well, I figured I’d let you know I’m in labor, but if you wanna go back to sleep you can.”

“You’re what?” he yelled, making you pull the phone away from your ear.

“My water broke. I’m at the hospital.”

“Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be there.”

“I can’t control-” He hung up. “-when the baby comes.”

You sighed and smiled at Derek.

“I’ll come back when you start pushing, okay?” Melissa said, giving you a smile.

“Okay. Thank you.” She left with a smile.

“Are you gonna call your parents?”

“I never even told them I was pregnant.”

“Really?”

“Did you forget I haven’t talked to them in years?”

“I just figured this might be something they should know. You know, since they’re about to be grandparents and everything.”

You sighed. “I’ll call them sometime. Just not now.”

He nodded. “I’m gonna go get some food from the vending machine, do you want anything?”

You nodded. “A Snickers would be nice.”

“Okay.” He leaned over and kissed you. “Be right back.”

No one else had seen this side of Derek except you. He wasn’t the same person he was to Stiles, or Scott, or even his uncle, Peter. With you, he was soft and sweet, always making sure you had everything you needed and wanted. You doubted anyone would believe you if you told them half the things he’d done for you over the years, even before you started dating.

Fifteen minutes went by quickly, and before you knew it, Stiles ran into your room, his shoes squeaking and his breath heavy.

“You haven’t given birth yet, have you?” he asked as he sat next to your feet.

“Nope, not yet. I haven’t even gotten contractions yet.”

“Is that good?”

“Just means it’ll take longer.”

He nodded. “Great.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

Just then, you felt a heavy pressure and pain course down from your stomach to your legs, your hand reaching for Stiles’, which was right next to your knee.

“Nevermind,” you groaned, closing your eyes and inhaling sharply.

He winced and an ‘Ow’ left his lips.

When the contraction died down a moment later, you let go of his hand. “Sorry.”

“No worries,” he said, shaking his hand.

“That was not what I was expecting it to feel like.”

“Better or worse?”

“Way worse,” you chuckled. “Jesus. The next few hours are gonna be Hell.”

‘Few hours’ was an understatement. It was now seven p.m., and your contractions still weren’t anywhere near as close as they needed to be.

You’d tried everything the midwife suggested to speed it up: walking around the room, sitting in a chair, sitting on a yoga ball, drinking tea and water, peeing, laying on your left side, and you even tried falling asleep.

But none of it worked.

At this point, you were sweating, crying and in some of the worst pain you’d ever felt.

The doctor decided to see how far dilated you were, which was two centimeters, eight away from being able to push.

“On the bright side, you’ll be able to deliver naturally,” she said.

“What does that mean?” Derek asked.

“No c-section.” You both let out a sigh of relief. “Once you get to four centimeters you’ll be in active labor, which shouldn’t be as long as early labor.”

“Thank God,” you whispered.

Even though it wasn’t as long as early labor, active labor was ten times more painful. It was definitely the absolute worst pain you’d ever felt.

But your boyfriend and best friend were there for you the entire time, even through your random bursts of anger, sadness, and pain.

When you were told you were at nine centimeters, you looked at Derek.

“I can’t do this, I don’t think I can do it.”

He stood up and leaned over you, gripping your hands. Stiles stood at the other side of the bed.

“Hey,” he said, softening his voice. “Are you kidding me? If anyone can do this, you can do this.” You let a tear fall. “Babe, I’m scared, too. But guess what? We’re gonna have a baby. A tiny version of you. We’re gonna have a little girl. And she’s gonna be awesome. Okay?”

You nodded. “I love you,” you whispered. You looked at Stiles. “Be ready for me to crush your hand,” you laughed.

“I’m ready,” he said somewhat reluctantly. “Just try not to break any bones.”

You smiled.

“Alright, Y/N. You ready?”

Screams filled the room, both Stiles and Derek wincing at how hard you were squeezing their hands.

You pushed a total of six times before you felt a massive relief of pressure, and you gasped for air. Your cheeks were soaked with sweat and tears, your legs tingly.

You let go of their hands and, just like before, Stiles shook his hand in the air. You breathily chuckled at his reaction as the nurses wrapped the crying newborn in a blanket.

They handed her to you, now having stopped screaming, and you started crying all over again.

She was beautiful. She had the same pale green eyes that Derek had, and bright red hair.

“She’s a ginger,” he whispered.

“My dad is, maybe that’s who she got it from,” you said.

Only a little while later, Derek was next to you in the bed, and you both just watched her sleep in his arms.

You’d never seen him so happy. He had a soft smile plastered to his face and he was a natural at holding her.

You let Stiles hold her, and, just like your boyfriend, you’d never seen him happier. An uncontrollable grin formed as he sat in the recliner with her, letting you and Derek have open arms for a little while.

Once Scott and the rest of the group arrived, you decided to tell them the name you settled on: Charlotte Allison Hale, Charlie for short. Allison was your best friend before she died, and you figured it would be a nice tribute to her.

Scott loved it, and it pleasantly surprised you. You were worried it would make him sad, and you knew it probably did, but you were glad he liked the name, too.

You spent the next few days in the hospital, learning how to change diapers, breastfeed, and all of the other essential things included in being new parents.

Stiles was there every day, other than going to school. He went to his classes, went to lacrosse practice, and then immediately came back to the hospital.

You liked being at the hospital and having some help from the nurses and Stiles, but being able to go home and spend time just the three of you was your favorite thing in the process.

And it made your heart melt watching Derek with her. For the first few days he didn’t let you get up during the night and insisted he go check on and feed her with the bottles of breastmilk you had pumped while at the hospital.

You were finally in a place where you were genuinely happy with everything in your life. And you couldn’t have asked for a better one.

#fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #imagine #derek hale #derek hale fanfic #derek hale fanfiction #derek hale imagine #derek hale fluff #derek hale x reader #derek hale x reader fanfic #derek hale x reader fanfiction #derek hale x reader imagine #derek hale x reader fluff #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fluff

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cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] S2 Shaw - Ch 12 Angst Scene

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from the Season 2 main storyline, which has not been released in EN 🍒

Before proceeding, do note that I’m unable to answer any questions related to the non-Gavin chapters in S2 because I have no idea what’s going on. I decided to translate this because I got spoiled on Weibo and it hurt so bad that I needed to do this as an outlet :’)

If you decide to continue, it’s highly recommended to read Shaw’s 2020 Birthday R&S and Summer Night Date first for maximum angst!

Short summary of what happens before this:

MC sneaks into the Hunter Game and two participants make her legs go numb so she can’t move

Shaw happens to walk by and rescues her, bridal carries her to an abandoned ship, uses his Evol to restore sensation in her legs and they talk about the “Beacon”

And I have absolutely no idea what’s going on

Anyway, he gets into another fight later on

When things are finally somewhat peaceful, Shaw collapses and MC discovers that he’s been running a fever this whole time

Joker’s pal walks by and zaps him to the hospital

Shaw: [hisses in pain]

When Shaw wakes up in a daze, he feels as though his head is about to split into two.

In a blurry state, he takes a look around his surroundings, subconsciously calling the girl’s name.

Shaw: MC?

The response he expected doesn’t arrive, and it seems she isn’t by his side.

He closes his eyes, recollecting what happened before he fainted - the Hunter Game, power grid, the young man...

Shaw: !

Shaw sits up violently. After he fainted, he could vaguely hear the conversation between her and a young man.

His vision gradually becomes clear. He once again takes in his surroundings, and realises that he’s in a hospital.

Taking out his phone, he dials that familiar number. As expected, his call doesn’t get through.

Shaw balls his hand into a fist, punching the bed fiercely. Veins appear on his forehead.

He pulls out the IV and stands up hastily, only to feel the entire world spinning.

After calming down for a moment, he decides to make a trip to the antique store first.

Dizzily, Shaw returns to the vicinity of the antique store, realising that the street is crowded with people from the neighbourhood. It seems like something has happened.

The closer he heads in the direction of the antique store, the closer is the sound of the blaring fire engine. Shaw’s heart leaps, and he controls his quickening steps.

When he turns at the corner, Shaw stills, pausing in place.

A sudden, ear-splitting clap of thunder explodes in the sky.

Black tongues of fire lap the roof of the antique store, appearing both mysterious yet bizarre.

Firefighters disperse the crowd while extinguishing the fire. However, it’s clear that given the strange circumstances, they’re at a slight loss.

Evidently, this is a fire stemming from an abnormal and malicious act.

After a few rigid steps, it’s as though Shaw has gone into a frenzy, running forwards wildly.

The flames seethe and churn in his widened eyes, reminiscent of a surging black swamp, gradually climbing and overtaking his entire vision.

Firefighter: What are you doing! Stop him!

Shaw: [a heartbreaking shout] GET LOST!

Shaw shakes off the hands roughly, a crackle of white electricity causing the firefighters, who are trying to hold him back, to shift away instantly.

Countless blood vessels become evident in his eyes, and he rushes into the black purgatory without hesitation.

The dusty smoke snatches away one’s privilege to breathe. But right now, the thing suffocating Shaw even more isn’t the turbid air.

His gaze lands on the objects on the wooden racks, and he feels an astringent pain in both eyes.

Shaw: [difficulty in breathing] ...

As though in a frenzy, Shaw lunges forward, grabbing a bundle of calligraphy paintings that look aged, then rushes towards the entrance.

Flaming bricks from the roof fall around him. He doesn’t bother dodging them, and simply hugs the calligraphy paintings to himself even more tightly.

He tosses the calligraphy paintings to a firefighter at the entrance. Without a word, he immediately disappears into the black world of flames again.

Just like this, again and again, back and forth, he doesn’t stop.

Very soon, large patches of scalded skin are left on his body. But he doesn’t seem to feel pain, and simply rushes back into the sea of fire repeatedly.

Shaw knows that these spiritless, dead objects are meaningless to some people.

But to others, they are a period of living and breathing history, evidence of a miraculous existence.

He is unable to fathom why anyone would use these objects as tools for venting their anger and for taking revenge. At the same time, deep in his heart, he knows it clearly.

It’s probably because to Shaw, these dead objects represent life.

The black flames burn his fingertips, swallowing every fragment belonging to his place, and every corner.

And also, every silent memory.

He exerts his all, wanting to grab them. But what’s left in his palm is a pile of scalding ash.

When the fire is finally put out, half of the antique store has already been scorched.

Or rather, the person behind this had always intended to burn half of it as a warning.

Aside from those items which Shaw risked his life to retrieve, most of the objects in the antique store are in the mess, returning to dust.

The firefighters round up their work, and no one dares to disturb Shaw, who simply stands in front of the antique store.

The black flames look abnormal and filled with malicious intention, the thick smoke spiralling in between Shaw and the antique store.

Shaw lowers his head, and no one can see his current expression, and no one knows what he’s thinking about.

More S2 content: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc shaw

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purpleyellow · 4 years

Text

Recovering pt 1

Seventeen 14th member

Hayun’s masterlist

“During her time in the hospital, it was up to the 95+96 line to take care of Hayun”

a/n: Wonwoo’s scenario is inpired by the lyric prank request. Feel free to let me know your thoughts as well as send me some requests💙. Ask box is also open to random chats.

Scoups

He had felt guilty leaving Hayun on her own that morning, so as soon as the schedule was over, Seungcheol rushed to the hospital to make her company while the boys went home to showers and then pay her a visit.

Opening the room’s door, he was met with the sight of Hayun’s head staring blankly at him while the rest of her body was buried in while fluffy pillows in a way he doubted she could move without letting at least one of them drop off the bed. Stifling his laugh, the leader walked into the room amused.

“Did hurricane Jackson come by?” He asked clearly knowing the answer as she rolled her eyes.

“What do you think? I didn’t even know you could get this many pillows in a hospital” The girl sighed as he started to take them one by one and set them on the couch, only leaving the ones stabilizing her back since he didn’t know how much movement she could take “You smell like the bathroom in music core”

“I rushed here so you could have some company and that’s what I get?” Scoups said offended and she smiled mischievously.

“My bad. Here let me tell you a secret” Hayun waved him closer and when his ear was by her mouth she screamed “I’M LOSING MY MIND IN THIS ROOM”

Flinching backward, Cheol placed a hand on his heart while waiting for a second for it to calm down. The girl stared at him with wide eyes while pointing out how everything was stark white.

“AND, if that isn’t enough” She pointed out making him widen his eyes even more “I don’t have you guys around”

“Aww, cute” He cooed pulling a chair closer so he could sit by her side “But wasn’t your boyfriend just here?”

“Yeah but he’s not you guys” She hummed holding his hand and squeezing it for a few seconds before throwing it away “At least he’s not a traitor”

“A traitor?” Cheol smiled amused and she crossed her arms nodding.

“I mean. How dare you guys having all that fun without me”

Jeonghan

“That one looks like a thumb” Hayun leaned into Jeonghan’s side and pointed at a baby through the nursery window. As she had been getting better, the nurses would let her take little strolls around the hospital as a way of getting her body going again.

“Don’t judge him, he might become cute someday and end up dating your child” Jeonghan pointed out while side hugging the girl to help her support herself “You don’t want to bully your future son in law, do you?”

“It’s weird thinking that they’ll become a grown person isn’t it” She ignored him cooing at the babies in their beds “They’re so little and squishable right now. Look at that one! It has a little dimple!”

Laughing at her excitement, Jeonghan failed to notice an old lady approaching them with a fond smile, and he almost jumped when she started speaking on his side.

“It’s your firstborn, right? I remember how excited I was when my daughter was born, nothing compares to it” The lady smiled at their mildly confused faces and then back at the babies “So, which one is yours?”

As Hayun went to tell her this was a misunderstanding, Jeonghan calmly pointed at a baby in the corner and, with the softest smile, he turned to her as he spoke.

“That one is our little Channie. Cute isn’t he?” He winked at his group member as she bit her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing.

“Oh yes. That one is my grandson. Time sure flies by fast” The lady smiled at them and much to Hayun’s entertainment pointed to the one she had compared to a thumb.

“Ah he’s adorable” Hayun giggled and forcefully pulled at Jeonghan’s sweatshirt to indicate they should leave soon before the woman could get a good look at them and start some weird rumor.

“We should be going back so my love can go rest” He started speaking while pulling her IV holder a little closer to indicate their departure.

“Yeah, I’m feeling quite tired, we should really be going” Hayun gave her a polite smile and after giving each other the best of luck they parted ways, Jeonghan turning to her as soon as they made it to the elevator.

“We’re horrible people”

(pretty boy draco malfoy wannabe)

Joshua

“You just hoop the thread through the- Hey, don’t give up now” Joshua sighed as Hayun dropped her hands and placed the little beads back on the container.

“Shua, I love and cherish each and every bracelet you give me so much. And do you know why?” She asked and he shook his head “Because I know that I don’t have the patience to do them just like you”

Dropping his head on the hospital bed, Joshua tried his best not to laugh in desperation as he gathered the courage to admit the only thing he had brought for her to do was a failure.

“Okay, I’m sorry” He straightened up his posture and collected one by one the little beads and things. “The boys just keep breaking the ones I’ve given them and I don’t have the guts to say no to making more. Just thought you could help me get these done, my bad”

“Oh, I can,” Hayun said, much more excited, yet he shook his head grateful.

“You don’t like it, I get it. Don’t worry about it” Shua gave her a very sad wink, putting the things away and crossing his legs as he sat back. “So, how have you been doing? At least we can talk about your news and catch up”

“No, you don’t get it. There is no news. I’m stuck here and nothing happens, so if I can help you by making bracelets, PLEASE teach me how to make bracelets” Hayun pleaded, shaking him by his arm and Joshua laughed.

“Just don’t go complaining that I forced you” Handing her the materials again, they went back to silently making the crafts while Hayun shared some of the hospital gossip she had heard.

“Have you tried putting one of each color to see how it turns out?” She asked, pushing her glasses that were sliding on the bridge of her nose without taking her eyes off her work.

“Yes. It all looks kind of yellow though, I don’t know how it happens” Joshua shrugged, taking a quick glance at the one she was making, only to notice she wasn’t following the pattern he had told her to. “Wait, that’s not how it’s supposed to go”

“I think it looks more fun this way” Hayun smiled stretching the line towards him, seemingly proud of the colorful mess she had done.

Shua only smiled and nodded, not having the heart to tell her that one was supposed to replace Woozi’s black and blue bracelet.

Jun

Hayun had been watching the door with hopeful eyes for the last three minutes when Jun finally entered her room. Closing the door almost instantly, the boy leaned against it and placed his hand inside his hoodie pocket.

“Please tell me you got it” Hayun beamed, assuming the answer was a yes, but her face dropped as soon as he took out three Jello cups. “You know, when I told you to sneak in some food, I meant like a burger or something”

“How was I supposed to sneak in a burger? Do you know how hard it was for me to get these?” He sighed sitting next to her on the hospital bed and taking out two spoons from his pocket “I had to sweet talk my way through three different nurses to make it into their stash. One of them even gave me her number”

“My boy” Hayun gave him a high five and took one of the cups “You got me a lime one? Thanks!. The girls said they were out of it this morning”

“Oh yeah. One of them told me they’re usually out of it pretty quickly so they try not to give many out” He said calmly making her complain about the unfairness.

“If a burger was too difficult, some fries would have done the job” The girl returned to the topic rolling her eyes while opening one of the Jellos and taking a spoon from him.

“The nurses said you should be careful with what you eat for a while, that must mean no greasy food” Jun grabbed a bite with his spoon and laughed at her annoyed face.

“I’m already in the hospital if anything goes wrong” The girl rebutted, making him laugh and push her in annoyance, forgetting for an instant she still had some stitches in her belly.

“Crap, I’m sorry,” Jun said when she let out a little groan, opting to sit on the chair instead of crushing her side on the bed.

“Don’t apologize. You can be a little rougher next time” Hayun smirked as he threw his head back in annoyance and took out another Jello from his pocket, throwing it at her head but purposely missing “Hey, sick person here. Treat me a little nicer for once”

“I’m getting mixed signals right now. Which one is it, rough or gentle? Because I can do both” Jun snickered back making her howl with laughter.

Hoshi

“Hey, is this supposed to be happening?” Hoshi screamed over the nurses as they helped Hayun throw up in a bucket from the hospital bed.

The boy and a manager had just arrived to help her get her stuff ready to go home when a bunch of them went running into her room making him alert.

“Sir, it’s not very common but it can happen. We'll do some scans to see if there’s anything going on but she hasn’t shown any other symptoms so it might be a passing thing” One of them told him while helping her up. Turning to her, he held her shoulder and placed her against the headboard “You need to be careful with your stitches”

“So what? I’m supposed to drown in my vomit” Hayun complained and one of them held the bucket a little closer to her face making her disgusted “Nevermind, I think I’m done”

“I’ll go check with the doctor,” The manager told Hoshi as he nodded and walked closer to the girl.

“You haven’t been feeling anything else right?” Soonyoung asked, but before she could say anything the same nurse spoke up.

“She hasn’t had any fever and everything else seems to be normal. You’ll probably need to stay here one more day so we can see if anything happens though”

Giving him a side-eye, Hayun pouted as they excused themselves from the room and Hoshi sat on the bed next to her so she could lean her head on his shoulder.

“I just want to go home” She mumbled letting frustration take over for the first time. “I’m stuck in this damn room while the entire world passes by. I missed an entire comeback at this point, people might start calling me old for it”

“At least you did one stage” Hoshi chuckled making her roll her eyes “Just think that there will be many more to come. Think of this as a rest before you go out and get tired again”

“I want to be tired right now” She scoffed, pointing at her stomach “Do you have any idea of how weak my muscles must be. I’m going to need you to walk me through every choreography so I can reignite muscle memory again”

“Sure. I’ll make a boot camp just for you” He laughed as she sighed defenseless.

Wonwoo

“You don’t have to stay, you know?” Hayun pointed out as Wonwoo fixed up the couch for himself to sleep on.

“Hoshi said you were pissed for staying one more day,” He said nonchalantly while staking some pillows “What kind of friend would I be if I let you sulking on your own?”

“The reasonable kind who knows their bed is much more comfortable than a couch he can barely fit on” The girl smirked, doing her best to turn on her side.

“What is that thing you always say before talking someone into something” Wonwoo pretended to think before raising a finger “It’s about experiencing life to its fullest”

“I don’t think this fits into that but okay”

“I’m turning off the lights” He laughed, getting up, but before his finger touched the switch, she stopped him.

“I feel like crap” Hayun pouted and he widened his eyes.

“What is up? Do you need me to call someone?” The boy left his spot by the door to come check on her closer “Is it the position you’re on”

“I threw away all my pride” She held his hand and looked up at him, trying her best not to break the sad face before continuing “I’m so upset”

“Look, you shouldn’t worry about missing the schedules. I get that you wanted to come too, but things like this happen and we have to adjust to them” He said making her sigh and let go of his hand, only to look out of the window

“Am I only this much? Now I’m scared”

“What? No, you don’t have to be scared. We all think it’s best for you to recover than-”

“I’m scared of the words of I love you” Hayun raised her tone making him shut up and stare at her confused. She let out an ironic laugh before continuing “You’re just a joke”

“What?”

“I really can’t stand you” She spat at him making his face get more confused “There’s no reason to date you. Guys like you are all over the world”

Wonwoo was just about to ask where she was going with this as a wave of realization hit him, as a reaction he closed his eyes and took a deep breath while Hayun laughed at his face.

“Did you really just quote 2NE1?” The boy scoffed before an amused grin showed up in his face.

Woozi

“I get performing, but why do I need to stay out of interviews too?” Hayun interrogated the doctor just as he was ready to discharge her “Can’t I just sit on the side? You said small movements were fine”

From her side, Woozi watched amused as the doctor explained for the third time that she needed to let her body rest, which made her argue once again that “interviews weren’t exhausting”

“We can exchange places if you want,” The boy said half-serious, half kidding making her roll her eyes.

“You wouldn’t like it,” Hayun said on a whim raising her eyebrow as she gave it a second thought “Actually, staying at home with no one else around. You totally would. Can we do that?”

“Do what exactly?” The doctor said as she stared at him excitedly.

“Have him home resting for me while I go have fun?”

“Uh-”

“The moment you learn to ignore the things she says, the better your life will become” Woozi smiled politely making her roll her eyes once again. “Anyways, are you ready to go home?”

“I don’t know, I became quite attached to this room” Hayun tried to joke, but the boy only unlocked her wheelchair and started guiding her out. “Well that was rude”

“You kept complaining you wanted to go home. I’m just trying to do that as fast as possible” He smirked as they made it to the elevator. Their manager running to keep track of his fast steps.

“Calm down, the party isn’t going anywhere” Hayun chuckled, but when she looked up to his confused face, she only rolled her eyes “Cut the crap, I know you’re throwing a welcome home party”

“Uh… you’re going to be disappointed” The boy looked to the manager and then back at her with an apologetic face.

“Oh. Nah, it’s fine” Hayun shrugged rolling her eyes “Everyone is busy anyways”

“We thought we could go out once you’re all good too” He patted her arm as they made it to the garage floor.

After the manager drove them to the dorms, they both calmly walked to the door while chatting about some nonsense on the radio. When Hayun opened the door to find her twelve losers with a banner that read “Sorry about your appendix”.

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch:17 I’m Not Going Anywhere

Summary: Katie keeps vigil at Steve’s bedside and in full protective ‘dad’ mode, Tony engages the Stark Industry lawyers when the UN Senate comes calling. But the Winter Soldier has gone back into the shadows, taking one of Steve’s only living ties to his past with him. And no one has a clue where he’s gone.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Violence, bad language words, angst and smut (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s thanks.

A/N: I LOVE LOVE LOVE these edits once more from @angrybirdcr

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 16

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“He’s panicking…let me talk to him.” Her voice was soft but full of authority.

Then, a familiar hand closed over the one that he held over the mask on his face and she gently spoke this time directly to him.

“Shhhh…” He felt her other hand gently run over his forehead. “Baby, you’re in an ambulance. Try and stay calm, okay?”

And then his eyes focused, just for a second. The panic that had hit him dissipated as Katie’s face filled his vision and he gripped her hand, not wanting her to leave him.

“I’m not going anywhere…” She assured him. “I promise.”

And he believed her. He felt himself relax and fell back against the bed and his eyes closed again, the last thing he heard and felt was her…

Steve’s hand was still tight around Katie’s when they arrived in the emergency room. She went in with the paramedics who took Steve in charge and, as they escorted Steve into the operating room, the realization that she finally had to let go of him crushed her. The same Doctor who had taken care of Fury and her in the warehouse approached her with a nod, and she was suddenly extremely thankful that the Director had as many fingers in as many pies as he did. It was an overwhelming relief to see a face she knew she could trust.

“Miss. Stark, I need you to leave the room, please. I’ll take care of him from here.” The Doctor put his hand on her shoulder to support his point and dropped his voice. “I promise. Fury’s orders”

Ignoring the urge to argue she let go and took a step back, her eyes still focused on the Steve as he lay on the stretcher.

“Heart’s rate climbing, doctor!” Announced one of the nurses. Katie could still see her soldier’s face disfiguring and the slight raising of his eyebrow and clench of his hand if he were trying to hold on to something. She let out a sob as she realised he was looking for her because she had left him, after promising she wouldn’t, and then the double doors of the operating room closed. Finding herself now alone and completely helpless, her limbs began to clench and she was suddenly very aware she was trembling. Then, it was as if someone had tightened a band around her chest, leaving her panting for air as her vision became more and more obscured by tears of panic.

She caught herself against the nearest wall before feeling her legs give way. She managed to lift them into a bent position, before bringing her arms around them so she could hide her head behind her knees as her throat felt like it had completely closed. She concentrated on Steve’s images floating around her brain, his touch, his kisses, how he held her, made love to her, the feeling of his laughter, his eyes, all their moments together.

We could get married if you want…

His face as he had spoken those words, the look she hadn’t been able to place suddenly registered in her brain. He had been hopeful. She closed her eyes trying to hold on to that memory. Eventually, after what felt like a life-time, she felt her throat begin to open again allowing her to take a deep breath, then the tightness in her chest and lungs eased and finally her brain. The hiss of silence in her ears was replaced by the usual murmur of a hospital and she could once again feel the sensations coming back along her limbs. She loosened her arms around her legs, stretching them out in front of her, and lifted her head to lean against the wall.

She had no idea how long she sat there. Minutes, hours…it all blurred into one as she focussed her attention on the doors he had been taken through. Eventually, her little bubble was invaded by a familiar figure hovering over her before Natasha slid to the floor, legs lying in front of her, her arm wrapping round Katie’s shoulder.

“Any news on how he is?” She asked.

"They’re still treating him, as far as I know.” Katie sighed, her head resting gently against Nat’s.

Natasha nodded briefly in acknowledgment before turning to look at her friend. “And you? How are you holding up?”

Katie looked at her, but didn’t answer as Sam’s familiar voice cut across the corridor.

“Katie! Natasha!” He hastened to join them, letting Katie take in his civilian change of clothes. He was bruised too, but overall, he looked okay. “How is he doing? Any news?”

Natasha took it upon herself to answer Sam. Meanwhile, Katie finally decided to get up from her position against the wall. The sudden movement and the long time spent in an identical position made her stagger a little. Sam hastily raised his hands to catch her.

“I brought you a change of clothes.” Nat spoke gently as she too stood up. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t stay. I’m already being summonsed for questioning, but Hill and I are going to do our best to keep your names out of it, both of you.”

“Frankly Nat, at this moment I couldn’t give a fuck about what my name is dragged into.” Katie snapped, her ton a little harsher than she had intended. She sighed. “Sorry…”

“It’s okay.” Nat shook her head, her green eyes catching Katie’s “Look, call me as soon as there’s news.”

She nodded. “Can you call Tony for me? He’s already tried ringing but I can’t bring myself to try and explain.”

“Sure.” Nat nodded. She pulled Katie into a hug, before she headed off up the corridor.

“Katie.” Sam spoke gently. “There’s a waiting room down there.”

“No, I’m staying here.”

“You need to get a proper rest. You got shot yourself yesterday, remember?” Sam reasoned, his tone patient/ “Come on, you’re no good to Cap if you aint in top fighting form.”

Katie gave in and let Sam escort her to the waiting room where the two of them sat in silence. It was around four o'clock in the afternoon, some three hours after they had arrived, when the SHIELD doctor made an appearance. Katie was half-lying with her head against Sam’s shoulder as he was changing the annoying channels of the hospital TV every ten seconds.

“Miss. Stark?”

Sam turned off the television almost immediately while Katie was already on her feet in impatience.

"Yeah?”

“Sorry it’s taken so long but there was a few complications.”

“Complications?” Katie frowned “He’s got fucking super serum coursing through his DNA, it’s supposed to help him heal”” “And it did, meaning the wounds had started to close over which caused us a bit of an issue but he’s out of theatre and the surgery was a success.”

“So he’s gonna be okay?” Sam asked and the Doctor nodded.

“He lost a lot of blood but we’ve given him a transfusion and his vitals are stable. He’s gonna be fine.”

Katie let out a sob and covered her face with her hands, relief flooding every cell in her body as Sam wrapped an arm round her.

“We’ve moved him into his own room and it will be a while before he regains consciousness, how long we can’t say.” The doctor continued gently, before looking round and then back to her, his voice lowering “We have an armed guard on his door, Fury’s orders, but you two can stay with him.”

He beckoned for them to follow him through the corridors of the hospital. "He’s doing very well, all things considered.” He said stopping in front of a door. “But, just so you’re aware, he is heavily sedated to ensure he rests as he was quite agitated. Now, it’s just a case of letting him rest whilst the serum work its magic.”

“Thank you.” Katie choked out before she turned to the door and a hand gently touched her arm. She looked up and did a double take as she saw Evans stood there.

“Hey Nova.”

“Evans.” Her voice was a whisper, as he pulled her into a hug. “You…”

“No, I’m not HYDRA, probably the only one in STRIKE who wasn’t.” He swallowed as she stepped back to look at him noticing the shiny bruise adorning his right cheek and the split in his upper lip. “I swear I had no idea. It all started smelling a bit funky when they told us Cap was public enemy number one, and then when I heard his voice on that PA…” He shook his head, sadly. “I’m sorry I didn’t try to find you, help sooner…”

Katie shook her head as the ginger Texan man wiped at his eyes with the heel of his palm.

“None of us knew Paul.” The use of his first name made him look at her, and she was swept back into his arms again.

“How is he?” He asked as she stepped back, nodding to the room.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep ya.” He smiled and she gently squeezed his arm. “I’ll be right her if ya’ll need anything.”

“I don’t want anyone in here without my say so.” She instructed. Evans jerked his head to show he understood and she gave him a tight smile as she pushed the door open and stepped into the room, Sam following.

The sight in front of her made fresh tears spring into her eyes and she swallowed as she silently took in Steve’s condition. He was lying, asleep, in his bed with whilst IV’s and monitors recorded his vitals. He had stitches in several places on his face, nasty bruises around his left eye and jawline, and a huge swelling along the same eye that was likely to prevent him from seeing properly for a while. Overall, he was a mess.

“Katie-”

“I’m fine.” She interrupted Sam quickly in a hoarse voice, slightly tinged with her desire to cry. She took a shaky breath as she could hear Steve’s steady heartbeat reaching her ears. “I just need a minute.”

She slowly made her way to one of the chairs by the bed, settling down without looking away from Steve as she reached up to take one of his hands. It was colder than she could ever remember him being.

“Hey, Soldier.” She breathed in a shaking voice before pressing her lips to his bruised knuckles as she held his large hand in both of hers. For a moment, she thought she felt his hand contract in recognition but when she looked down he showed no signs of being awake. “I don’t know if you can hear me but I’m here, like I promised.”

******

The next few hours Sam and Katie stayed in the room with him and eventually Katie had to concede she really needed to clean up. She looked around for the bag which Nat had brought her some clothes in and stood up, grabbing it from where it sat by the door.

“I’m need the bathroom.” She looked at Sam and he nodded. “I won’t be long.”

She headed down the corridor and entered the ladies restroom, leaning over the sink. She glanced at the mirror, her eyes were red, face was dirty, hands still full of Steve’s blood and she looked all in all like a right mess. She set about washing her hands, her face and anything else that she could before she stepped into a cubicle and peeled off her lycra leggings and compression top. Dressing in the jeans and black sweater that Nat had packed, she was also touched to the point of more tears to see her friend had packed her some deodorant, a set of face wipes, dry shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste and a hairbrush. By the time Katie had finished she looked almost normal.

Katie pinged Nat a message to thank her and fill her in on the news that Steve was going to be okay and one came back almost immediately

Thank God, and you’re welcome. I just spoke to Tony. He’s on his way back from Australia as we speak, he’d already set off after seeing the news. He told me to tell you to call him, ASAP.

So she did.

“Jesus Kiddo!” Her brother exclaimed when he answered, “I’ve been so worried…how are you? How’s Cap?”

“He’s stable. Still out of it but…” Fresh tears sprung into her eyes at hearing her brother’s voice.

“I’ve had Pepper call the hospital, anything you or he needs…anything…” He stressed, gently “and she’s working to keep the press off your back.”

“Thanks. Where abouts are you?”

“Approaching Singapore airspace. I’ll be there as soon as I can, I promise.”

“’kay…”

“Love you Kiddo, he’s strong. He’ll be fine.”

“So everyone keeps saying.” She whispered, the sob catching in her throat.

Tony sighed “Look, this is Rogers we’re talking about. He’s as stubborn as you are.”

“I know.”

“I’ll see you soon. Call me if there’s any news, ok?”

But there wasn’t. Katie sent Sam home in the early hours of the morning but her vigil never wavered. Doctors and nurses bustled in throughout the night. Steve’s vitals were improving but he still didn’t wake up. She managed a few hours sleep, on and off, spreading herself across two of the chairs, waking at around five am. She gratefully accepted the offer of a coffee from a nurse who arrived to explain that they were about to move Steve into a bigger, nicer room, courtesy of Pepper’s discussions with the hospital.

It was around 10 am when Sam returned. The new guard who had relieved Evans for a shift stopped him immediately until Katie popped her head out of the door and told him it was okay. After he had frisked Sam he walked in, holding out a bag containing a breakfast sandwich.

“You’re an angel.” Katie smiled as she tore into it, unaware how long it was since she had eaten something.

The two of them ate as they watched the news reports on the TV in the corner of the bright room. They spoke of the Helicarriers, HYDRA’s plot having integrated the governmental organization as well as the impending investigation. Katie watched the footage of her and Sam whizzing around the sky, and listened as they had even rebuffed Steve’s message for more effect. The attack was all the world was talking about and all the news was focused on Steve’s recovery and the repercussions of his actions.

“The identity of the Avenger Supernova has until today remained a mystery but the rumours are beginning to amass than it is none other than Katie Stark…” One of the news readers was saying,“the sister of Iron Man and girlfriend of Captain America…”

Katie didn’t even flinch. It wasn’t like they wouldn’t find out anyway, as soon as those files they had dumped on the internet became common knowledge it was going to blow up, plus, it was pretty obvious now. What was annoying her however, was that it was as if they blamed them, in particular Steve, for doing what was right.

A few hours later just as Sam had left again, Katie heard a commotion outside the doors to the room and she stood up.

“You know me right? Tony Stark, my sister is in there.”

“Sir, I’m under instructions not to…”

“It’s okay, Davies.” Katie stepped out of the room and spoke to the guard. “He’s good.”

Davies sighed “Mr Stark, I’m gonna have to search you then.” He relented.

Tony shrugged and held his arms out, once he’d been patted down he shot Davies a contemptuous look and he entered the room. No sooner had he done that, Katie was in his arms, sobbing, the Doctor who had been checking Steve shot them both a look as he sidled out of the room quickly.

“Shhhhh Kiddo.” Tony gently stroked her hair as she pressed her face into his chest, his familiar aftershave and touch reminding her of all the times he’d soothed her before when she was upset.

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

Tony stepped back to look at her. “Red said you got shot.”

“I did, but I’m okay, see.” Katie shifted her top to show him the patch that was over her wound, which was healing well.

“Sounds like you’ve been having a bit of fun without me.” Tony sniffed, “It’s okay, I’m not really hurt. Well, maybe just a little. JARVIS is in a whole heap of trouble for not telling me by the way…”

“I told him not to, you were in Australia, Tones.” Katie shook her head gently “Besides, this was all a bit crazy. There wasn’t really time, if we had waited for you to get back it would have been too late…and you could have been in danger and…” She looked over at Steve, his face was still a mess. “Look at him Tony…”

Her brother placed his arm around her and squeezed. “He’s gonna be fine.”

Katie lay her head on Tony’s shoulder as they sat down, his hand gently stroking over her hair, not once trying to get her to leave as he knew she wouldn’t. She’d burst randomly into tears again when she’d told him her car was now buried in the wreck of the Triskelion. It was a lump of metal, not something that mattered, but Tony understood. She was letting everything out, and he simply sat with her and soothed her, informing her that the car was ready for being changed anyway.

“But I like my car.” She sniffed.

“Kiddo, it’s almost nine years old. I got you that for your Twenty-First.”

“And that’s why I like it.”

Tony had to chuckle, that’s what she was like. Sentimental. It was the gesture behind gifts that mattered to her, not the value. He’d brought her up that way to value money, even though they had it in abundance, and he was fiercely proud of the woman she had grown to be. Humble in many ways that he wasn’t.

“You know he asked me to move in with him.” Katie spoke again, breaking the silence after a minute or so.

“Before marriage?” He teased. “Well, well, well.”

She snorted a laugh “That’s what I said. And then he turned round and told me we could get married if I wanted.”

Tony stiffened slightly before he looked down at her. “And do you want?”

She nodded. “Of course I do. Only I told him to ask me again with a big diamond.” She sniffed again before sobbing. “We both laughed but why did I say that? I don’t need a fucking ring, or-”

“Hey, hey.” Tony gently took her face in both his hands. “You just said it yourself. You both laughed. He won’t have taken it as anything but what it was, a joke. Steve knows you love him. Everyone does. Frankly it’s hard not to, it’s sickening”

She gave a wet laugh and Tony wiped at her cheeks with his thumbs.

“He’s gonna move into mine.” She smiled, as they both settled down again, her head returning to his shoulder. “His place is too small and full of bullet holes and…blood.”

“Sensible” Tony agreed, pulling her closer.

At one point during the night Pepper called, filling Tony in on the fact that Natasha was to be summonsed to the UN for a hearing and that they wanted Katie there too, her secret identity as an Avenger was well and truly busted.

“Get the lawyers onto it.” Tony replied simply, glancing at Katie who was now asleep, across a makeshift bed consisting of four plastic chairs from around the room, head laying on his lap As his hand gently smoothed her hair, his need to protect her boiled fiercely within him. “She’s not going anywhere, certainly not yet. Oh, and I need you to get hold of Happy. I have a couple of jobs for him.”

*****

Every single inch of Steve’s body hurt. His mouth felt like sandpaper, his head was full of cotton wool, his eyes hurt as the colours flashed in front of them. He screwed his eyes further shut against the painful light that still assaulted him through his closed eyelids. He took a moment to breathe, steadying himself as soft music flooded his ears. It wasn’t something he had heard before but it was pleasant, soulful, jazz-like. His head stopped spinning and he felt brave enough to crack an eye open. He glanced round the room, puzzled slightly. He was in a hospital. Then he remembered. The Hellicarriers, Bucky, and the last thing he had seen before blacking out, his girl. He had been cold, and wet, but she had been there. And she still was, at the side of his bed, head laying against Sam’s shoulder.

“On your left.” He managed to croak out. Katie’s head jerked up from its resting place and they both glanced over at the bed where Steve was led. He smiled groggily before his head rolled to the side, flush back against the pillow and he closed his eyes once more.

At the sound of his voice, Katie instantly jumped up and settled on the side of his bed, gently stroking his face.

“Hey.” Her voice cracked. “Welcome back.”

“’M so tired, Sweetheart.” He mumbled as she dropped a kiss to his forehead, his eyes remaining closed as he managed a small smile.

“Then sleep.” She instructed softly, the relief flooding her system that he was with them, albeit not totally, but he was with them. She gently smoothed his hair, and kept that up until she could tell he was back asleep.

She turned to Sam who gave her a smile. “Lazy bastard.”

A few minutes later a nurse popped her head round the door. Katie smiled and told her about him waking up briefly and she nodded, checking the readings. “That’s a good sign.” she beamed, “His body will be drained, serum or no serum so him resting is part of the natural recovery process. When he comes round fully, come find me and we’ll get the doctor back.”

An hour or so later, the mood in Steve’s room was considerably lighter given his waking up before. Katie, Sam and Evans, who was leaning in the open doorway, were mid a playful discussion as to whether or not Voldemort could take Darth Vader in a fight. (Katie had started this whole thing after calling Evans “Ron Weasley with a rifle” on her way back from the bathroom) and were just about to dive into the whole schematics on Magic vs The Force when a voice spoke from the bed.

“What the hell are you three talking about?” Steve grumbled playfully and Katie’s head jerked up to see his eyes watching her and she was beyond happy to see they were full of their usual warmth, the warmth he had whenever he looked at her.

“Hi!” Katie breathed in relief as she stood up and moved closer to him, settling on the edge of his bed.

“Hey, Doll.” He smiled as she took his hand, her fingers snaking into his. His eyes flickered to Evans, taking in the man’s various bruises and he frowned.

“Got in a bit of a fight with Rollins.” Evans drawled with a nod, and Steve let out the breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding. The man wasn’t HYDRA. “He didn’t take kindly to me threatening to test out the whole ‘cut one head off, two more shall take its place’ theory on him.”

Steve gave a small huff of a laugh before he winced slightly at the movement and Evans nodded to him once more, before allowing the door to shut, returning to his post. Steve’s eyes fell on Sam who raised an eyebrow at him.

“You know, having a building dropped on my head wasn’t part of the job description”

Steve’s smile spread a bit further before he gently lifted his head up off the pillow, looking around before grimacing at the throbbing that filled each bone in his body “How long was I out?”

“Forty-Three hours and Thirty Seven minutes if you don’t count the last hour you’ve been resting.” Katie smiled gently, glancing up at the clock on the wall as she settled on the side of the bed. Ah, yes, Steve’s brain vaguely registered he’d woken up before, made some quip of some sorts. “Not that I’ve been counting…” She finished and he smiled again, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Have you been here that whole time?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Sam’s been here too, a lot. As has Tony. He’s just nipped back to my place to change and make a few calls.”

“Trust me, two days aint that bad considering how you looked when you got here.” Sam added jokingly.

“Sam.” Katie reprimanded gently, looking at him.

“Alright,” He relented standing from his chair and holding his hands up, with a smirk. “I’ll go get that hot nurse, give you guys a minute.”

“Utter dog.” She snorted, the pair of them watching as he left the room and she turned to face Steve, tears in her eyes.

“You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He looked at her, and he was. He hated seeing her upset. There was a moment’s pause before he decided he had to know. “What happened after… did we?”

“SHIELD’s gone, Alexander Pierce is dead. Fury shot him. And as far as HYDRA, everyone major that was involved at the Treskellion is either captured or dead.” she paused, not sure if she should be telling him the full scale of what had gone down. Not whilst he was still recovering.

“What is it?” he frowned and she knew she wouldn’t be able to fob him off.

“Nat dumping the files on the internet means my identity as Nova is probably blown wide open. There goes our quiet life.”

“Nothing about our life is quiet.” he said a soft chuckle rising in his chest.

She grinned “True. Gonna be a lot of other shit to mop up though, The Treskellion was the tip of the iceberg. All the main SHIELD bases fell. America, Canada, Europe.”

Steve nodded along then asked the question he was almost afraid to hear the answer to. “Any news on Bucky?

"He’s gone.” Katie told him sadly. “I’m sorry Steve. I know how much he meant to you. But, I think he remembered you. He pulled you out of the river, told me to get help.” She continued to explain about their short exchange on the river bank and Steve listened, unable to stop the hopeful feeling spreading in his chest. Maybe there was a chance for Bucky after all, they just needed to find him. Katie watched him, and he smiled at her.

“I’m glad you spoke to him.” He nodded, and then a cheeky glint flashed in his eyes “Still think all the girls in Brooklyn were dumbasses for hanging off his arm and not mine?”

She gave a bark of a laugh and leaned down towards his face, rubbing her nose against his “Always.” She whispered, before giving him a soft quick peck on the lips.

******

Tony arrived back an hour or so later. He was genuinely pleased to see Steve awake and after gently grasping the soldier’s hand between both of his in a friendly, brotherly, gesture he sat down and delivered some interesting news.

“So the Goth Pirate called me.” He said, leaning back in his seat “He sounded amazingly well for a dead guy.”

“Fury called you?” Steve frowned

“Yeah. He’s laying low, you know, on account of being dead, and he wants to hand control of the Avengers over to us, Cap.”

Steve frowned, before he lay his head back on his pillow. He knew the Avengers would be needed again, especially now with SHIELD gone. He turned to Tony who continued.

“I think that’s the right thing to do, for us to take control” The billionaire spoke and Steve nodded.

“I suppose, but there’s something I gotta do first.”

“Yeah, recover.” Sam shot, drawing a faint smile from Steve but Katie knew full well he didn’t mean that. He was intending to go after Bucky.

They spent the rest of the afternoon making idle chit chat with Tony, who was already planning on further renovating the tower to house the Avengers full time in the wake of Fury’s news. Steve, Katie was pleased to see, was enthusiastic about the plans and listened, looking at the various ideas Tony showed him on the tablet. However, now that Steve was awake, the nurses seemed to be a little more reluctant to allow everyone to stay and at about six pm one of them politely suggested that Sam and Tony should be making their way home.

“You do know I’m paying for this, right?” Tony quipped at her. She shot him a look which made him visibly recoil and he turned to Katie pulling a face as he stood up.

“I’ve gotta get back to New York anyway.” He shrugged, pulling his sister into a hug. “Lawyers to speak to…new suits to build seeing as you blew yours up.”

“You blew it up?” Steve looked at her.

“I needed to send up a signal so everyone could find us.” She shrugged as Tony looked at her reproachfully.

“Yeah, I should be going too. I gotta tidy my place.” Sam groaned. “Someone trashed it.”

“You’re welcome to stay at mine if you want, for as long as you need.” Katie offered, as Steve let out a sigh and began to mumble an apology which Sam waved away.

“It’s fine man, it won’t take me long to reorganise it all.”

“Speaking of which…” Tony looked at Steve then Katie as he fished in his pockets for something. “I’ve had Happy organise to clear your apartment Cap, now you two are shacking up together. He’s gonna have all your stuff sent Kiddo’s, save you a job. Oh and I figured you might need this.” He tossed Katie a set of keys. She glanced down at them, her eyebrow raised.

“It’s a Q5, rought over from my personal collection.” He looked at her and she smiled at her brother. “Try not to bury this one under a sky-scraper.”

“Thank you.” She whispered, giving him another hug, slipping the keys into her pocket. “I love you, Tone.”

“Obviously, because I’m the best big brother in the world.” He hugged her tight, and Steve nodded to him, thanking him with a look which Tony acknowledged with a sharp incline of his head in the soldier’s direction.

As the two men left, Steve raised his right arm to bid them goodbye and the pair of them headed off down the corridor, chatting away animatedly. Katie watched them go before turning to Steve, who was yawning like a lion.

“You okay?”

“I just don’t remember the last time I was this tired…or in as much pain”

"Do you want me to get the Nurse, up your pain relief?”

“No.” He yawned again, he hated how it made the room spin.“Think I’m gonna sleep.”

She teased gently. “Again?”

He smiled and looked at her, swallowing. “Will…will you stay?” He asked, tentatively “Until I fall asleep, that is?”

“I’m not leaving you.” She cut him off and dropped a kiss to his forehead as she climbed onto the bed next to him “I’ll be here when you go to sleep, and here when you wake up.”

“You don’t need to stay all night. You must be exhausted, you should go home and get some sleep.”

“I’m fine…” She looked at him, before her body betrayed her and she too let out a huge yawn which she tried to stifle. He raised an eyebrow.

“Please honey, you need some rest too.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve shook his head. She really was obtuse at times.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He lay his head back on the pillow a grin flashing across his face. “Just remembering what a stubborn, pain in the-“

“If you wanna get out of here any time soon, then I wouldn’t finish that sentence…”

“Miss Stark is that a threat?” Steve looked at her, a smile curling further across his face

“It’s a promise…” She grinned, leaning over to kiss him gently. “Now go to sleep.”

*******

Steve was discharged from the hospital the next afternoon, the doctors having no reason to keep him any longer since he healed so quickly, though a cheeky nurse did warn that it wouldn’t be wise for him to engage in any strenuous activity, with a pointed look in Katie’s direction who merely rolled her eyes, a small smirk playing on her face.

They arrived back to Katie’s, no theirs, a little after 4 in the afternoon. Steve was dying for a hot shower, and a shave, despite Katie’s protests that she liked the stubble he had sprouted, and whilst he was under the scalding hot waterfall, Katie headed into the kitchen to grab a drink. As she opened the fridge for a bottle of water she wasn’t surprised it was fully stocked including a few bottles of expensive pinot grigio and some beer. There was a note stuck to one of the bottles, in Tony’s handwriting.

Couldn’t have you both coming home to an empty fridge now, could I?

Whatever it is he’s ‘got to do’, I know you’ll follow. So keep safe, stay in touch, and if you need help…you know where to find a good team.

T xxx

She read the note over again and smiled to herself. It was times like this that her brother always came through for her. She fired him a quick text message to thank him before she headed up to the bedroom to see if Steve was hungry.

“Hey love, just wanted to know…” the words died in her mouth at the sight of him, his upper body was flecked with droplets of water from the shower. The knife wound on his shoulder had faded to nothing but a fresh, pink scar and the bruises he sported were all starting to turn yellow now apart from one stubborn one on the right side of his ribcage that was still a mass of purple. But it was the round circle of scar tissue that stood out, on the left side of his lower abdomen, angry and red, where the bullet that had done the most damage had exited that caught her attention. Her mouth went dry and suddenly her eyes were misting over as it hit her exactly how close she had come to losing him. Quite simply, she wasn’t sure she could cope without him now, which scared her as she’d always been fiercely independent.

“Hey…” he said, swiftly stepping forward, his hands cupping her face as he saw her face crumple “Sweetheart, I’m fine…”

“I know, I know but…” she sniffed. “I almost lost you and I couldn’t bear it if that happened…”

“Well you didn’t.” He said, gently, “Gonna take more than that to get rid of me.”

His lips brushed hers, the lightest of touches but it set every single nerve end she had into over drive with desire. As her breath hitched she felt him grin against her mouth before he kissed her, slightly harder this time, parting her lips with his tongue. He pulled her close, moving his hands up to the small of her back, pressing her into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, running the fingers of one hand through his hair while the others lingered at the base of his skull, holding him to her. They stayed like that for what felt like forever, the kiss growing in intensity, hunger, until Katie felt him hard against her stomach and her face was raw from the stubble that he hadn’t shaved yet.

“The doctor said you had to take it easy…” she whispered into the space between them as they each worked to steady our breathing

“Yeah…” he said, slowly moving her backwards, “But, what do they know?”

“Ermm a lot.” she snorted.

“You need proof that I’m all healed?”

“Depends on what proof you’re talking about…” she grinned as he dropped his hands to her ass, reaching down as if to lift her but she stopped him, hands on his wrists.

“Steve, your ribs…”

“For once in your life will you shut up and just do as you’re told…” He looked down at her. She was about to argue, about to tell him no, but as he looked at her, his eyes alive with desire she knew it was pointless.

“Yes, Captain…” she murmured as his lips crashed onto hers, but he didn’t try and lift her again, instead he backed her up the short few strides, before the back of her knees hit the side of the bed and she dropped back onto it.

“I’ll take it easy…” He whispered as he crawled over the top of her, sliding his hand up her jersey dress and into the waistband of her leggings and knickers, slowly sinking two fingers into her warm, wet depth. She let out a soft moan, open mouth grazing his neck as he felt her clench around him. “Easy,” he repeated before her mouth hungrily claimed his again. He moved his hands to reach down and they parted just long enough so he could pull her dress up over her head. His eyes automatically darted to the bullet wound on her left shoulder, that hadn’t healed half as fast as his, the stitches weren’t due out for another week

“I hate that you got hurt…” he muttered, slipping one bra strap down, then the other, before she arched her back allowing him to reach round and undo the clasp before he discarded it to the floor. His lips travelled across her collar bone and up her neck, drawing a soft groan from her lips as his stubble scraped her skin and once more his fingers claimed her. She writhed with pleasure at his strokes and he groaned gently, his lips working on the spot under her ear. He moved away for a second, to rid himself of the towel and crawled over her so that she was led flat, his hands pulling at the side of her black leggings, removing them along with her panties easily. He positioned himself over her, his tongue dipping into her mouth before he pushed into her, making her shudder slightly. His hands were on either side of her face, caressing her cheek and jaw as he kissed her again, rocking his hips as opposed to thrusting, the contact not breaking for a second. He dropped his head to her neck, his lips gently brushing her ear as he let out a groan, his hips grinding against hers.

It was soft, it was gentle, it was intimate, not rushed and Katie cried out his name loudly when her orgasm took her, her thighs closing around him. He was consumed completely by her, and he followed her over the edge, a loud moan rumbling in his throat. God he loved this woman with every single inch of his body.

“One day,” he mumbled, his lips brushing her ear, “I’m going to ask you properly.”

She understood what he meant. Smiling she looked at him, not a shred of hesitation on her face as her lips met his and she whispered into the kiss, “One day, I’m going to say yes.”

He couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across his face as he kissed her again, noses sliding carefully against one another to avoid aggravating any bruises before he rolled over pulling her to him, her words reverberating around his head.

I’m going to say yes.

His hand gently carded through her hair as he felt her relax into him and he dropped a kiss to the top of her head.

I’m going to say yes.

*****

The flashes of the photographers and the hustle and bustle of the audience were invasive. 4 days had passed since they had taken down SHIELD/Hydra and despite the best attempts of the lawyers that Tony had instructed on both hers and Natasha’s behalf, they had been summonsed to Capitol Hill.

What pissed Katie off the most wasn’t the attention, it was the fact they were being held accountable when they had done the right thing. Natasha felt the same, but the pair of them remained professional and unaffected by the staging of the conference before them. They both moved to the fingerprint reader before returning to their appointed places to answer their questions. Nat’s hair was as usual smoothed and perfectly capped on her shoulders, Katie’s was twisted back in a bun. Katie’s face still bore the bruises she had gotten from Rumlow, which were turning and fading and she probably could have covered them better but she’d chosen not to, simply to make a point.

“Miss Stark, you know Captain Rogers the best out of anyone in this room. Why do you believe he felt the need to take down our intelligence service?”

Katie wanted to laugh; it was such a stupid question to open with. But the serious look on his face told her he was serious.

"Taking down SHIELD was the morally right thing to do. If we hadn’t stopped that launch over twenty million people would be dead.” she said seriously. The congressman eyed her before jotting down something on his notepad.

The questioning continued from there. Not many people in the room were sympathetic to all that they had been through. In fact, Katie would go as far as to suggest that most were trying to find a weak spot or a way for them to trip them up. An hour in and it felt like they were going round in circles. Katie was getting pissed off. Besides her Nat shifted slightly, crossing her arms over her chest, the two women resisting the urge to look at one another.

“Why is there no news from Captain Rogers?” asked one of the men of the congress.

That was when Katie lost it. She turned to the front taking a deep breath as she looked up at the ceiling with annoyance, the eye roll she had been fighting came fully as she glanced back at the moron who had been speaking “I don’t know what else to say.” she spoke, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Maybe the fact he almost died might have something to do with it. That said, I think the new rock in the middle of the Potomac speaks for him in this case.”

"Perhaps he can explain to us how he hopes this country will ensure its national security because you have dismantled our intelligence services.” The Congressman insisted reproachfully.

This time it was Natasha that spoke, her attitude ringing across the room, she was pissed as well.

“What information?” She asked angrily. “HYDRA sold you lies.”

“Lies that you took care to spread.” The Congressman reminded, pointing at her with a knowing look. Natasha narrowed her lips to his allusion but it was Katie that answered, the final threads of her self-control finally snapping.

“Ste- Captain Rogers, sacrificed everything to save the lives of millions of people when he took that airship down into the ice over 70 years ago.” she leant forward “Not to mention the fact that my dad, Howard Stark, the co-founder of SHIELD also worked against Hydra in the war.” she took a breath and looked at Natasha “Agent Romanoff was almost killed by Hydra’s most deadly assassin on a mission 5 years ago. And more to the fact, 2 years ago we fought, side by side as part of the Avengers to keep the world and its people safe. And you’re seriously suggesting now that we would knowingly put those same people in danger?”

“Passionate speech Miss Stark, or should we call you Nova…” he said, making her snort and look away “And perhaps you’re right, maybe you didn’t know…but Agent Romanoff…” he turned to Natasha “It happens that a few in the commission have the feeling that, given your state of service for our country and against it, your place is more in a penitentiary than in a senatorial commission.”

Katie looked at Nat who took a deep breath, clearly collecting her thoughts before answering with confidence. "You’re not gonna put me in jail.” She paused for the dramatic effect before letting a small smirk curl the corner of her pink lips as she glanced at a Katie before looking at the front again “You’re not gonna put any of us in jail.” She arched a mocking eyebrow as she kept eye contact with the congressman. “You know why?”

“Please enlighten us.” He replied snidely.

“Because you need us.” Katie answered for her. “With SHIELD gone, the world needs the Avengers more than ever.”

Natasha smiled gently and continued “Miss Stark is right. Yes, the world is vulnerable. And we’re partly responsible, but we’re also the most qualified to defend it. So you want to throw us in prison? Go ahead” she shrugged “You know where to find us.”

With that she gently touched Katie’s shoulder and she rose gracefully from her seat, Katie following her. The pair of them turned to face the hordes of press, all of them were shoving microphones and cameras into their faces whilst they moved to the doors and pushed their way through the throng of people.

“Move aside please…” Happy was in his element, arm round Katie as he cleared a path to the SUV, where he opened the door to allow them to slide in. He pulled away from the kerb and sped off.

“We’ll head to Miss Romanoff’s first, then I’ll drop you home Kiddo.”

“Happy, what would I do without you?” Katie smiled at him. She turned to Nat who was looking out of the window.

“You ok?”

She shrugged “Could be worse.”

“So, what’s next for you?” she asked.

“Gonna take a bit of time out.” she said vaguely, shrugging “You?”

“Steve wants to track Bucky down.” Katie sighed “Although I’m not so sure it’s a good idea.”

She didn’t reply. They rode in silence until they reached her condo and Katie turned to her.

“Nat.”

She looked at Katie, her green eyes locking onto her friend’s.

“Don’t be a stranger. Come over this week, we can get takeout and make fun out of Steve, just like normal.”

She smiled and reached across the seats, giving her a hug. “I’d like that.”

****

The days following the hearing were peaceful as Steve and Katie mostly lounged at home, unpacking some of his things that Happy had sent over. They binge watched shows, cooked, went for walks and then one night Sam and Natasha dropped in for take-out and a few beers. Sam made sure he congratulated Katie and Natasha on them both basically telling the Government to kiss their asses.

“It was the best thing I’ve seen on TV in years!” he gleefully said, as Steve dropped a kiss to the side of Katie’s head. In contrast, Steve had hated seeing both her and Nat getting grilled. He’d offered to go himself but both girls had insisted they could handle it, and he should keep his head down for the foreseeable. It was the one thing that Katie knew she could do to protect him.

It was as Natasha was leaving that Steve pulled her to one side and asked her if she could get any of her old contacts to dig up any information on Bucky. Katie pretended she wasn’t listening to the conversation, but she heard every word as Natasha tried to warn him that it wasn’t a good idea, but, stubborn as ever, Steve insisted so she nodded, and promised to do what she could.

And now, almost two weeks later, they were stood in a graveyard. Katie supposed there were stranger places to meet up with your dead-not-dead ex-boss…

“Funny, most people need a Medium or a Ouija board to speak to dead people.” Sam quipped as Fury approached them.

“I see dead people…” Katie replied in an almost perfect impression of the Kid from The Sixth Sense, causing Sam to snort and Steve to chastise the pair of them for acting like a pair of school children in a graveyard.

“Sorry Dad.” Katie rolled her eyes and he shot her a disapproving look which she met with an equally sassy one of her own, and Steve looked away before he laughed at her.

"So, you’ve experienced this sort of thing before?” Fury asked, drawing up behind the three.

“You get used to it,” said Steve, looking down at the grave stone with Fury’s name on it, placed over an empty, buried coffin.

Katie slipped her hand into his, gently squeezing it.

“We’ve been data mining Hydra’s files. Looks like a lot of rats didn’t go down with the ship,” said Fury, He was standing by Katie’s side, staring down at his own tombstone, with sunglasses on and a hoodie over his head and he looked up at Steve “I’m headed to Europe tonight. Wanted to ask if you’d come.”

“There’s something I gotta do first,” Steve responded, simply.

“I assume you gotta do it too?” Fury looked at Katie. She shrugged.

“How about you, Wilson? Could use a man with your ability,” said Fury, turning his gaze to Sam.

“I’m more of a soldier than a spy,” responded Sam.

“Alright then,” Fury shrugged, shaking Sam’s hand before going over to shake Steve’s. “If anybody asks for me, tell them they can find me right here.” He said shaking Katie’s hand last as he nodded to the grave.

“You should be honoured.” Natasha’s voice drifted across from behind the three of them, making them turn around to see her walking up to them while Fury himself was already strolling away in the opposite direction. “That’s about as close as he gets to saying ‘thank you’.”

“Not going with him?” Katie asked.

“No,” she sang coming to a stop, keeping her hands behind her back.

“Not staying here,” Steve concluded.

“Nah…” she drew out the reply. “I blew all my covers, I gotta go figure out a new one.”

“That could take some time,” Katie raised an eyebrow.

“I’m counting on it.” She smirked, turning to Steve. “That thing you asked for; called in a few favours from Kiev.”

As she removed her hands from behind her back, she revealed a brown folder, which Steve took staring down at it with a contemplative expression.

“Be careful Steve,” she added, repeating her warning and he looked at her, nodding. “You may not want to pull on that thread.”

“Take care of yourself.” Katie said, looking at her, before giving her a quick hug. “I think I’m going to miss you, just a little bit."

"Only a little?” Natasha teased right back. “I’ll miss you too.”

She turned to leave and Katie gently reached over to tilt the file down so she could see it, wincing at the photo of Bucky in some kind of cryo-stasis. Steve looked at her, his eyes giving away his sadness and she gently ran her hand up his arm.

“I’m not sure I want you involved in this.” he looked down at her and she rolled her eyes.

“We live together you ass.” She looked at him, sternly “And we’re in this now, the both of us. I’m not going anywhere.”

She felt like she had been saying that a lot recently, and she had. But she wanted him to understand, nothing that happened could and would ever tear them apart.

As Sam approached Steve closed the folder, but the man had already seen it. He shot a look up to the sky, his eyes locking on Katie’s and she gave him a quick look which was almost sympathetic as she registered Sam’s frustration. It didn’t go unnoticed by Steve either, he knew this could be opening a whole can of worms, or a ‘bucket of vipers’ as Katie had said the other night, but he had to try. He owed it to Bucky.

“You’re going after him aren’t you?” Sam asked.

“You don’t have to come with us.” Steve responded

“I know.” Sam remarked, before a smirk crossed his face. “When do we start?”

**** Chapter 18

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #mcu fanfic #mcu #captain america #chris evans #chris evans characters

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

Heart Attack

This one goes out to whoever said “death. this is how i confess love”.

I will write the other fic as well

Warning: Major Character Death (rip my favorite big old idiot)

The initial weakness in his left arm is not noteworthy. The deep ache, daggers shooting from the inside of his wrist to the clavicle, are sadly not either. Chronic pain is just a part of his daily life and after the ugly, deep scars Foyet left on his forearms, not even simple movements are free. He’s always assumed Foyet put them, the long slashed scars that look nearly self-inflicted, there just for show, claiming him perhaps but certainly to maim. Doesn’t matter right much now, all he knows for certain is that it hurts and there’s nothing he can do about it.

It happens so frequently that it nearly slips his mind-- as much as pain can but what he really means is that the coffee in his hand slips. He’s standing in the kitchen, contemplating taking an Advil to at least dull the pain enough to better concentrate on the book he’s been trying to finish since Friday. “Fuck.” His left hand just releases the mug. He liked that mug. Advil it is.

His days pass in quiet contemplation. Just him and these beige walls. He misses the days that were filled by Jack’s toddling steps, rampant little footsteps, and happy squeals of delight. Coming home to the sound of some new band Jack’s conjured up and is going to torture him with for the next week until he moves on to the next. He misses Emily and Dave and having drinks on his couch. Being forced to go to Dave’s for family dinners and Emily coming by, uninvited, of course, to eat his ice cream and make fun of his documentaries.

Now he’s alone most of the time. Well, unless Jessica coming by to count to his pills counts. He doesn’t really think it should but she means well. Someone has to make sure he doesn’t just die on them but would they even notice?

Not immediately, not for a while.

Maybe if something strange happens on a case but those calls come less and less frequently. No one needs his specific knowledge. Emily is becoming an assured leader and she doesn’t even call him to fuss about the idiots that he hired and left her to deal with. He and Dave don’t really talk anymore. The best he gets, these days, is a quick update if someone gets hurt just so that he doesn’t worry if it pops up on the news.

Jack is off at college now. Hotch can’t blame him for being fairly radio silent but it does give him something to work with every few weeks when Jack does remember that he exists and sends a thousand-odd texts his way.

So, if he just… died no one would notice until Jessica’s Thursday visit. Even then, she’s just here to look at the pillbox he leaves on the counter for her easy access. She just checks what she has to and leaves. Life goes on.

As he’s crouched on his kitchen floor, mumbling very inappropriate and obscenity-ridden things, he feels that lightheaded fog encroach. Something that he really only knows from other encounters, one that he doesn’t associate with immediate danger. He takes a fist-full of medication each morning and roughly two list lightheadedness as a side-effect. While a dangerous fallout of Foyet’s stabbing is this strange platelet problem that messes with his iron. So while he sits for a moment and breathes through the feeling of his body trying to give out on him he assumes this problem is what it always is: his awful health.

He gets the coffee cleaned up with a towel but leaves the towel over the broken bits of the mug. The cartilage in his knees saw better days roughly twenty-years ago and by the time that the coffee has been contained, he can hardly stand the pain in them. So, guiding himself with a hand on the counter (then leaning on the wall and using a kitchen chair and so on and so forth until he gets to the couch) Hotch limps away from the kitchen.

He’s never been so thankful for his habitual manners as he sinks into the cozy couch and finds his heated blanket already plugged in and sitting on the lowest heat. A fire hazard? Yeah probably but if this damned blanket kills him one day then so be it. He finds some background noise in a nature documentary about penguins and closes his eyes, waiting for the blanket’s heat to soothe his old bones.

Despite how far he’s pushed himself down into the blanket, his body breaks out in a cold sweat. His chest tight and arm throbbing or maybe stabbing-- he can’t tell the difference right now just blinded by the pain. Blind and so stupid and as he sits up, shaking he’s shivering so hard, he knows what’s happening.

Haley used to dismiss his fears with soothing promises. She wouldn’t let something like this happen to him. They’d get old together “so old we start to wish one of us would just die and get it over with but every day I’ll turn over in our bed and find your craggy, old face right beside me and I know I’d still love you so much it hurts”. But Haley died before she even turned forty and he’s spent too many birthdays and anniversaries alone to know she couldn’t have meant that.

Drunk, vulnerable with the recent loss of Haley and the sudden return of Emily he’d admitted to this fear. Not just dying alone but of dying like his father-- a hated bastard on the outside with no family and no loved ones. To paint the wall with the horror in Dave and Emily’s face could stand as a solid reminder that he is loved but those faces mean nothing. The way that Emily had hugged him that night is nothing. Despite their assurances, he can feel his heart skipping beats. Painful kicks, each one.

He is alone. Gasping as he struggles to fight off his anxiety and crying through the agony ripping chest. Alone. Curled down into himself to try and find some comfort.

He manages to call 911. As he’s blinking tears from his eyelashes there’s a moment where the only number he can think of is Garcia. For years her number was his emergency number and now … He’s still thinking about her when the operator picks up but he’s losing his functions so fast. Settling back on the couch, using what’s left of his energy to tuck his feet back under his black he does his best to stay awake and hum in response to questions.

He thinks about Garcia. She’s always there, he finds, in his mind and every accident he’s had. Even during Boston despite the fact that she just joined the BAU. She’s always there and he wonders if she’ll appear this time. Talk his ear off about David Bowe but hold his hand tight enough that he never has to question if she’s really there.

Heart attacks hurt a lot worse than internal bleeding but he’d, personally, still put it under being actually stabbed.

He doesn’t hear the paramedics arrive or even feel the IV being placed in his arm. Though unconscious, he gives the faintest whimper of discontent as he’s lifted and pulled away from the couch. Not given the chance to brace for the cold winter air of March in Virginia just moving and moving fast.

“Agent Hotchner?”

He groans, turning his head from the penlight shining down in his face. Though he moves his face, he can’t escape the tight pressure across his ribs. Constricting tightly. The agent bit catches him by surprise-- he’s been “Mr” now for some time. Very few people still throw the “agent” in there.

“There you are--”

The sirens make it hard to hear. His hearing has been going for some time but if there’s one thing he can take from this encounter it might be that he should invest in the hearing aids he’s been putting off for a while now. He blinks up at the woman talking to him. Gently pumping a blood pressure cuff around his bicep and calling his name when his eyes slide back shut. He does try to stay awake but he’s in a lot of pain and he’s tired. Even retired he doesn’t get much sleep.

He’ll have to remember to tell JJ that. She’s always worried about his sleep schedule (or lack thereof) and thought, or rather hoped, his retirement would bring him the chance to finally catch up on two decades’ worth of lost sleep. She’ll be disappointed but not surprised.

It’ll give him a reason to reach out, to talk with them.

“Stay with me, Agent Hotchner.”

The world rocks and something that taste like plastic is placed over his face, wrapped around the back of his head.

“Deep breathes, you’re doing just fine.”

The cold air hits his sternum and his eye fly open, panicking as hands touch his bare skin. Oh, God. Foyet. I have to stop-- someone much stronger than him grabs his wrist. Two hands push his shoulders down into the gurney and he can’t fight. Can’t move.

“Agent Hotchner,” someone tries to calm him. “We’re trying to help you. I understand you’re in a lot of pain--”

He wants to go home. Away from the cold and the hands that keep touching him. “Dave?” he pants, turning his head and searching through the hazy mess of people. He cries softly, tears stinging his face as they slide down his face. He wants to recognize one person, to know one of the hands belongs to someone he trusts. Dave is okay. He likes it when Dave touches him. It’s calming and reassuring and he wants someone to call Dave. “Please,” he whimpers, curling his legs as he feels someone tear the worn fabric of his jeans. “No. No.”

He’s confused and he’s in pain and he wants all these people to stop touching him.

“Aaron--”

No, no he doesn’t like that. He cries out, failing to dislodge the hands as he kicks out. All his height, all the power he’s spent decades learning to command is useless. “I want to go home,” he rasps desperately. He can’t move, anymore. They’re holding him down and he can feel the drugs pumping into his arm. Too cold and too fast and it all hurts. Why are they hurting him?

“Just stay with us, Agent. We’re almost done and then--”

For the first time in nearly twenty years, all of his pain just is gone. He feels nothing for a blissful second. Around him, there’s a panic. The machines attached to him frantically going off as his heartbeat goes from rampant, wrong to gone. The pain comes back suddenly, sharper than before, and he turns his head with a moan as his lungs contract painfully. He coughs, rasping as his chest heaves.

He slips back under the haze but this time the pain stays.

He chokes as they try to intubate, fighting weekly but he’s too far gone to even move away from the touch anymore. Dave isn’t there. He wishes Dave were here. Dave always cups the side of his head, speaking in soft Italian that he’s never managed to pick up. But it’s soft and gentle and Dave. Garcia doesn’t hold his hand-- she always holds his hand. There’s not the soft scent of lavender that comes in with the hard rain that is Emily Prentiss. No one to jostle him for his carelessness and then crawl up into the bed with him. Reminding him of memories he’s nearly forgotten of when they were just kids.

No Jack.

Jack’s at college.

He comes in at 9:45 a.m.

By 10:15 a.m. there’s a doctor over his chest. A nurse makes quick work of trying to get a hold of a medical proxy. There’s a kid, he has a son, but there’s no contact information listed for him. She gets voicemail twice from the numbers that are listed.

Jessica is in a meeting. Her phone is on silent. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d had her phone. He’s thirty minutes away and his heart gives out only twenty minutes after he arrives at the hospital.

Dave is in Seattle, sitting in a puddle of rainwater and trying to contain his anger as Luke changes a tire on the SUV. His phone is too wet to work. He won’t get the news until nearly two hours later when he and Luke arrive back at the precinct. Emily will not cry for nearly a week after she gets the news. She tells Jack.

The doctors assure them that there was nothing they could have done. It was a freak accident. They always knew this was a possibility, an outcome that was very real with the amount of damage done to Aaron’s heart. It’s been broken so many times… And standing in that hospital, shivering under the intensity of the air conditioning and the white burning paint, they are left with the burden of knowing he protected them tell the very end.

But they never reciprocated that care.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction

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quillandink333 · 3 years

Text

Scarlet Carnations ~ Part II

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Detective AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.7k

WARNINGS: death, murder, loss, trauma, blood and gore, terrorism, organized crime, self-harm

Summary: Inspector Zelda Hyrule, assisted by the faithful Constable Link Fyori, is infamous for cracking the most confounding of cases in a town dominated by crime. Her latest assignment is to solve the murder of her own godmother, Impa Sheikah, the late CEO of Sheikah Tech. Incorporated, while staying under the radar of the dreaded Yiga organization.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII • Epilogue • Masterlist

By day two of our investigation, there wasn’t much left to look into other than the gardens. We’d already searched the rest of the house and found nothing of note. On that groggy morning, however, as soon as I stepped out into the gardens, I spotted something out of the corner of my eye that struck me as abnormal.

“Link, come here.” My comrade stood to attention and came to stand beside me, on the footpath lining the sides of the zen garden. “See that?”

He followed my finger to what had caught my eye: the big footprint right in the middle of the pattern etched in the sand. His eyes widened.

A grin spread its way across my face. “What say we try getting a closer look?”

This, unfortunately, was easier said than done. Leaving our own prints behind would be tantamount to the destruction of evidence. So in order to reach the spot where the footprint was located, we would have to hop across the stones scattered throughout the zen garden. And to say that the sandals one was given when visiting the Sheikah estate and was expected to wear at all times were unsuited for this endeavour would be a gross understatement.

“Honestly...” I huffed, searching in vain for the next best place to put my toe. “There’s a footpath for a reason.” This earned a chuckle from Link, who was still two or three rocks behind me, but seemed to be struggling to only a fraction of the extent that I was.

With my attention elsewhere, I made the mistake of stepping on a stone that was barely even the size of my heel. Inevitably, my foot started to slip, and I began teetering back and forth like a broken pendulum.

“Eep!”

Just when I shut my eyes in preparation to fall, I was caught and held steady at the waist by my assistant.

My breath caught in my throat. He was leaning over me, his front curved flush against the arch of my back and his gloved hands pressed flat into my abdomen, and here I was, graceful as a swan, arms sticking out at odd angles and legs spread three feet apart.

“Are you alright?”

His smooth, demure voice in my ear startled me out of my sudden paralysis. “Yes!” I squeaked, then cleared my throat and brought my outstretched foot back in. “Yes, quite. Thank you.”

His arms left my waist, and he straightened up, putting as much distance between himself and me as there was left on the perch we shared.

“I suppose this is close enough.” I smoothed out my capelet coat before crouching down toward the sand-covered ground, careful not to let anything trail in it. Before proceeding, I breathed a deep, mind-clearing sigh. “Let’s see what we have here.”

If this had been wet sand, I would’ve had a much easier time identifying the sole responsible for this vandalism. But unfortunately, this sand was dry, so all there was to go off of was the size of the prints.

“My guess is, some oaf thought it would be quicker to cut across the zen garden via these stones like we’ve been doing, but ended up with his or her foot in the sand at some point or another.”

“So...do you think this could be a clue?” he inquired with sweet naïvety.

“Well...” I crossed my arms over my chest. “If this is in fact our culprit’s doing, then that would point to this crime being a spur of the moment, which would blatantly contradict all the things we’ve seen so far, or haven’t seen, rather.”

“You mean the security footage?”

I muttered my bitter answer through gritted teeth. “That’s one example.”

The rest of the gardens offered even fewer leads. There were no unusual disturbances in the flora, and nothing was found lying at the bottom of the koi pond. The walls surrounding the place were no higher than the walls of the main building, but they were still too high and too flat for the average person to climb over. Either way, we found no signs of such activity. We’d quite literally left no stone unturned, but to no avail.

I let out what must have been at least my twentieth sigh since our arrival. “Alright then. I suppose it’s time we start questioning some witnesses.”

“Zelda, listen to me.”

I was in the living room in the midst of an interview with Paya. Link was standing on the opposite end of the room, going over his notes. I’d asked him as politely as I could to refrain from listening in on our conversation as she’d started bringing up some sensitive topics of which it was best for him to stay out.

“You can’t let your own personal feelings interfere with your judgement,” she whispered. “You’re a detective, aren’t you? You should know this.”

“It’s been seven years,” I hissed back, “and he spent five of them in an asylum because he was an amnesiac and he hadn’t any idea who he was. He himself, Paya, let alone me.” I took a moment to try and collect myself before continuing. “I’ve told you this before. And yet you somehow suspect that I still feel the same way about him as I did when we were teenagers?”

She shook her head at me in a patronizing manner like the goody two-shoes she always had been. “You may be able to hide it from him, but not from me. I know because...well, I feel the same.” The nerve of this girl was unbelievable. Had she no shame at all? “In any case, you can’t ignore the evidence, no matter what you or I feel toward him.”

She’d finally pushed me to my limit. This was the person who’d been stalking Link from afar since the start of this entire case. I could no longer sit here and tolerate her utterly guiltless accusation of him despite her creepy obsession.

“Just who do you think you are?!” I snapped, standing up and lifting her out of her chair by the collar. “I’ll have you know I’m the one running this investigation, thank you very much.”

“But Zelda, I—”

“Enough!” She shrank back. “You’ve no right making me out like an amateur!”

I could’ve sworn I saw Link jump out of the corner of my eye just then. But when I turned around, he still had his nose buried in his notebook.

Either way, the raging fire within me had died; I released my grip on my “sister,” who crumpled into her chair like a withering lily petal. Slumping back into my own seat, I let out a weary sigh. “So you’re sure Auntie Impa was asleep in her bedroom when you turned in for the night. Correct?”

She nodded curtly. “Yes.”

“And your basis for this was...what, again?”

She sat up straight with her perfect posture. “Well, she always goes to sleep at nine o’clock, and I hadn’t seen her since supper.”

“Right...” I massaged the bridge of my nose with my first and second fingers. “So you didn’t actually see her sleeping. She could have been awake in her room for all you knew.”

“I suppose so...”

“Splendid. And you can’t think of any household members, or anyone at all, who might’ve had a reason to kill her?” Like the Yiga, for example? I added silently.

“No.”

I shut my notebook, slipping my pen into my pocket. “Thank you for your time.”

At this point, I was starting to lose hope. There was only one other matter that it had even occurred to me to look into, and even then, I wasn’t sure if it would be possible to do so. So one could imagine my pleasant surprise when my object of interest was found unharmed in Auntie Impa’s study.

“So this was her own personal Sheikah Slate...” I marvelled, peering into the miniature safe in her desk at the item in question.

“That it was,” replied Auntie Purah. “She supposedly had it made for work purposes. You know, keeping track of finances and marketing and all those hum-drum tasks she was in charge of.” She rolled her eyes. “But I’m quite sure she used it for other, undisclosed means as well.”

“That’s what I’m hoping...” I confessed. “You said earlier—and I ask this with all due respect, of course—but you said you didn’t know of any dark secrets she was keeping? Any skeletons in the closet that might’ve provided a motive for this murder?”

She shook her head in dismay. “No, I’m afraid not. She was always terribly secretive, even with me.”

“Ah... That’s alright, Auntie,” I sympathized.

“But when your mother was still around—oh my goodness! Constantly, those two would whisper in each other’s ears about who-knows-what, ever since they were old enough to speak, I tell you.”

“Is that so?” I humoured her as she spiralled into a speech about the days of her youth. Since the Slate had been kept in her study in a one-of-a-kind safe made specially for this house, it was reasonable to assume there would be no strange fingerprints on it. Nevertheless, I dusted for them anyway, and sure enough, the only ones on it belonged to its late owner. “So, what’s the trick to gaining access to it?” I too owned a device similar to this one, courtesy of my connections with the company as an adopted part of the family that ran it, but because they were still so rare and invaluable, I typically left it at home and didn’t often have the chance to make use of it. As such, I wasn’t nearly as familiar with its mechanics as I ought to have been.

“Well, one of the Slate’s features, which happens to be one of my favourites, actually,” she boasted, “is that it lets the user create a lock that’s entirely unique from one on any other Slate. There is practically no limit to the number of ways one can keep their information protected.” I listened with immense interest, knowing the technology she spoke of was entirely out of my intellectual grasp, but being fascinated all the same. “It seems my sister simply opted for a riddle, though,” she lamented as she activated the device. “Pity. I was looking forward to showing you what the system is capable of.”

“You can still show me!” I fervently insisted. “I’d love to see how it works. Do you have your Slate with you?”

“Oh, yes, I do!” she chirped, reaching into her dress pocket. “This is going to knock your socks off, young lady.”

But before I could lean in for a better view, a hand on my shoulder stopped me. I turned my head and met eyes with Link, who glanced insinuatingly at the thing we’d come here to investigate.

“Oh.” I stifled a chuckle. “Right. Let’s see this riddle, then.”

“Ah, yes,” she laughed along with me. “My apologies, Zeldie. I do so get carried away at times.”

“Believe me, Auntie, you’re no worse than I am,” I contested, picking up the Slate sitting on the desk.

The screen displayed an empty text box with a typewriting keyboard below it and a question above it that read the following: “I observe the world as I hide in a cage. In my youth, I am weak, but I gain strength with age. I both give life and take it away. When one tries to pluck me, I make them my prey. What am I?”

Until now, I’d thought myself to be quite skilled at solving riddles. I’d even used to make them up in my school days for sport. But as I reread the words written on the Slate over and over again, I couldn’t think of a single answer that made the least bit of sense. “When one tries to pluck me...” and, “...as I hide in a cage,” were what kept throwing me off. It seemed no two statements could have been more unrelated. Even the few things I came up with that I deemed worth a try were denied. Even when Link and Auntie Purah tried, nothing worked.

Soon enough, I was taken completely off-guard when the question vanished, and in its place appeared the words, “This Sheikah Slate has been disabled. Try again in 1 hour.”

I slammed the damned thing down and threw my hands in the air. “Are you bloody joking?!” I stood hunched over the desk, shaking with frustration. “Five guesses? That’s all we get, really?”

“Maybe it’s something no one but her could ever know,” Auntie Purah pondered. “I could picture her pulling something like that.”

In that moment, it felt as though my heart were too tired to go on beating. “If that’s the case, then...” I held my head in my palms, nails scraping into my scalp. “Then we have no hope of ever figuring it out. Do we?” The longer I stared at the words on the screen, the deeper I fell into their endless, dark abyss. This had been my last hope of finding any sort of lead on this case. If this riddle truly was impossible, I was doomed.

“Now, now. No need to fret, dear.” I raised my head, realizing I’d begun to hyperventilate. “I’ll take it with me on my next trip to the lab. I’m sure Robbie and I will be able to crack into it once we put our heads together.”

“Okay...” I counted to ten in my head while Link stroked my shoulder in quiet consolation. I gave him an appreciative glance, then turned my attention back to my auntie. “Shall I trust you not to let anyone get their hands on it until then?”

“You can count on me, Zeldie,” she winked. I could only hope she would take my request seriously.

It was well into the small hours of the night now, after I’d returned home, and I was still awake as could be, staring endlessly at my bedroom ceiling with wide eyes. There were so many things weighing on my mind all at once, it was difficult to differentiate between them.

At the centre of it all, though, was the memory of something that had occurred earlier that afternoon, when my partner and I had been reviewing the results of the investigation in my office. The things he’d said to me then wouldn’t stop replaying themselves again and again in the theatre of my mind.

“Umm... Zelda?”

I’d looked up at him from across our shared desk, more than a little surprised to hear him call me by my first name. “Yes?”

“I just—” The unsure look in his eyes had created an air of tension thicker than a miasma. He’d begun glancing around the room, gnawing at his lip. “I-I just...”

“Is something the matter?” I’d prompted.

He’d shaken his head then, shifting in his seat. “No, no. I just...wanted to thank you.”

I’d raised my eyebrows at him. “Whatever for?”

His gaze had fallen to his hands resting on the desk. “For getting me out of...that place you found me in.”

My chest had tightened at those words. He’d never uttered anything so personal and so heartfelt to me during all the months that had passed. After all this time, what could possibly have urged him to say this now?

“You did that, even though I didn’t have the slightest notion of who you were,” he’d continued, making my heart twist and writhe within the confines of my ribcage. Then, steeling himself and meeting my eyes with his, “I just wanted you to know that, even with my affliction, I’ll never forget that day.”

Those words still rang in my ears even now, after the several hours that had gone by. They tormented me. I was the only one who had a shred of faith in him—in his innocence. And yet, if I couldn’t figure out a way to prove that someone else had used the police-issued revolver bearing Link’s ID code to commit the murder, then all my efforts to free him would go down the drain, and he’d be locked away for good, if not unthinkably worse.

#my writing #fanfic #botw #zelink #botw zelink #zelink botw #botw link x zelda #botw zelda x link #link x zelda #zelda x link #zelink fanfic #zelink fic #zelink ff #zelda pov #detective au

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thegreatbigfourmain · 3 years

Text

Dancing With Dragons

He knew something was wrong the moment he came to his senses. His entire body trembled with pain as he was forced to awaken from his blissful and painfully unaware sleeping state. The sound of beeping monitors and the soft echo of shoes tapping on hard floors rose once his eyes opened. Moments later, a doctor was there to greet him and inform him they were at the hospital, yet still on base. The battered-up brunet saw a glimpse of himself in a mirror given by a nurse. His hair was matted and dirty, his body stitched and bandaged.

It took the doctor a moment before telling him that not only was he being sent home on an honorable discharge, he also had a terrible accident. It wasn’t losing his men or killing civilians, as one would assume. The tragic loss was the left stump that was now his leg, bleeding through the bandages. His green eyes widened at the sight. No words left his lips as his entire body shut down. As a result, the doctor pumped his IV with morphine to cause the soldier to rest. However, the shock never truly left him.

In all honesty, he wasn't too proud of going off to the Marines like he had. He thought that if he left his art scholarship and went to the army, his dad might actually be proud of him. And for a moment, the old man was. With his buzz cut and high rankings through bomb tech and military tacticians, he had been put in the hand of his squad. His father was proud of him every day.

Yet, it only took a single bomb to set back everything. He came home taller with lean ropes of muscle, a haircut and a foot gone. The looks of sympathy were worse than the disapproval. He spent months in the hospital and physical therapy, though it did nothing to help his mental state. His hair grew out back to the long length it had once been and he could actually walk in a straight line with his prosthetic, yet he still felt as weak as he was all those years ago. Even as a twenty-seven-year-old man, he still looked to his father for approval and now only saw that same disappointment.

There wasn’t anything he could do to change that’s man mind.

***

Today, Hiccup Haddock the Third found himself outside a small dance studio recommended by his redheaded, Scottish doctor. To say he was nervous would be an understatement.

The brunette sighed, looking down at the floor of the car.

“You ready?” his best friend asked from the driver’s side.

The man grumbled, “No. Take me home.”

Jack scoffed and turned off the car as to not waste the gas. Hiccup knew what that meant; a lecture from good ole’ Jack Frost.

“Doc said it was going to help your coordination and that this girl was a good friend of hers. She’s not even going to charge you! What’s the worse that could happen?” the white hair male asked.

Hiccup gave him a look, “I fox trot myself into falling on my ass?”

Jack narrowed his eyes, “Get out of the car and go get better or so help me I will pull you out myself.”

The brunet rolled his green eyes before opening the door and lifting his legs awkwardly out of the vehicle. He slowly stood up, only to bend down and look back at his buddy.

“Two o’ clock right?”

“I’ll be here. I promise,” Jack said with a smile. The veteran closed the door and with a sigh, wobbled his way toward the dance studio. He was still slow in his walk and looked stiff. He refused to use a cane as it only furthered his disappointment and loss of his normality. Besides, it was mostly the pain that bothered him rather than his appearance.

Everything inside him screamed that this was a bad idea.

His father had ingrained in him that real men don’t need help. Then again, he wanted a lot out of his fishbone of a son that didn't have much to give in the first place.

Hiccup walked up to the door as the colorful fall leaves crunched under his boots. He wore a pair of dark jeans and a button up dark green shirt with a warm leather jacket over it. Now that his hair was long, he used a ponytail to tie it back. It showed off more of his sharp jawline and many, many freckles.

He hesitantly knocked on the door.

Many thoughts swirled in his mind at the moment. Dr. DunBroch could have at least showed him a picture of her friend to ease his nerves. If she was cute, then this would most definitely end badly. If she wasn’t attractive to him, then it still probably end with him falling on his ass.

With an awkward turn on his good foot, he only waited a second before heading back to the sidewalk. Hiccup was at the ready to pull out his phone to call Jack to turn around.

Hiccup dialed Jack's number as the autumn wind tried to penetrate through his thick jacket. He hated the cold. The worst part of being out in the desert was the nights. It was always freezing.

He brought the phone up to his ear, his other hand in his jacket pocket.

As the phone rang, he heard the door behind him open.

“Hi, I’m Rapunzel. Are you Hiccup?”

He turned to see who called his name. The person before him made his eyes widened. Oh this is bad. This is very, very bad.

She was beautiful.

She was a petite woman who wore a strapped rose pink dress that brought out the pink of her cheeks and the spring green of her doe eyes. Her hair was held up in a messy bun of golden strands. There was no makeup on her face to taint the natural beauty she possessed. Her lips were in a natural pout as she waited for him to answer.

He gulped, ignoring the voice that yelled at him on the other end of the phone line.

He decided this was much worse than what his imagination concocted in his head. The last thing he wanted was to be exposing his flaws and handicap by falling all over the place in front of a beautiful woman. Warmth flooded his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He gave her an awkward smile, hanging up the phone and putting it in his pocket. Hiccup took a couple of careful steps towards the door, though he still wobbled a bit.

The brunet stopped to take a deep breath, his smile gone from what he was about to say. His green eyes filled with a bit a self-loathing, but mostly embarrassment.

“Umm, hi. Yeah, I’m Hiccup. Dr. DunBroch referred me here, but I think it would be best to continue going back to physical therapy. This dancing thing isn't for me. I was never coordinated, even before my accident. I'm sorry if I wasted your time.”

He could see her face fall when he told her that he wouldn’t be taking her class. It seemed like she was almost looking forward to it. No, it couldn't be that. Injured veterans are charity cases. She was probably just trying to validate herself through some civic duty to a soldier. Just another person to pity him.

These emotions made Hiccup turn around. He couldn’t take looking at her hurt face any longer. He closed his eyes tightly at how stupid he must have sounded. He took out his phone again while walking stiffly towards the sidewalk once more.

All he heard was a soft “Oh, of course. No worries” from her before the door closed behind him, leaving him out in the autumn wind.

Haddock you asshole, he thought to himself.

He called Jack again.

“What?”

“I’m ready to go home.”

“You didn’t even go to the class, did you?”

“This is stupid. I want to go home.”

“Your doctor said this was the best chance you have to walk normally that’s faster than therapy. You can’t just walk away because you’re uncomfortable!”

“I can figure it out myself. And I’m not walking away. It just isn’t for me.”

“I’m not picking you up.”

“Then I’ll walk.”

“Are you crazy? You can barely walk as it is! No offense.”

“How is that not offensive?”

Hiccup was about to utter something to his supposed best friend when he felt a small tap on his shoulder. It made him turn around, his phone still up to his ear with Jack barraging him.

The petite blonde stood behind him, out in the cold with her dance outfit on.

She smiled at him and handed him her card. “Here. It’s my business card,” she explained.

“I know you may not want to now, or ever. But if you ever do want to have a session in the future, I just wanted you to know you have other options. I may not be a licensed physical therapist, but I do know a few things about dance,” she joked, letting out the most melodious giggle Hiccup’s ever heard.

Her words were almost lost on him because he found himself looking into her green eyes now that they were closer. They were green like summer grass. He felt like he was getting lost in all that was simple about her. That’s what it was. She was simple, uncomplicated and without drama. His whole life had been a series of problems and complications. Hell, his name was Hiccup: he was a mistake and a problem within itself. Even his own occupation was full of bomb techs, guns, drills, training and war mechanics. When he got home it was hospitals and surgeries, family issues and planning. She seemed so simple.

Hiccup reached for the card and, in doing so, gently brushed his fingertips with hers. That short contact caused jolts of electricity to run up his arm, followed by a bright crimson blush flustering his face.

“Oh, th-thank you,” he muttered out. She gave him one more heart-stopping smile before spinning around in a dancer’s fashion and going back into the building.

“Hiccup? Hic who was that?” Jack’s voice finally registering into the memorized brunet.

“Th-that was my instructor. Sorry Jack, I gotta go. See you at 2,” Hiccup rapidly uttered before stuffing his phone once again into his pocket and following the direction of where the blonde beauty went.

When he did catch up to her, she was beginning to put her speaker away and looked like she was closing up shop. Hiccup cleared his throat before knocking on the open door and entering.

The blonde glanced towards him, tilting her head to the side a bit like an adorable curious puppy.

“Hiccup?”

He chuckled at that, whether it be to hide his incredibly nervous emotions or because the way she said his name was on the rapidly growing list of what he enjoyed hearing from her; her giggle being the first.

“I, I’m sorry about before... This is all so foreign to me,” he started.

She placed the speaker aside and began to walk towards him, Hiccup doing the same until the pair met in the center of the room with only their reflections in from the ballet mirrors to accompany them.

“Well, If you’re up for it, I don’t mind helping you get un-foreign to it,” she grinned, her smile never failing to clench the inside of Hiccup’s chest.

What was this girl doing to me?

“What the heck, let’s do it.”

What did he just get himself into?

#dancing with dragons #drabble #another old thread with #choasatitsfinest #rewrite #hiccunzel #not the best in terms of grammar but fuck it I'll worry about that in my research papers

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years

Text

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Thin Line

Summary: You’re wild and free. She’s strict and trained. You and Natasha are polar opposites and it drives her crazy. Each move you make annoys her to no end. But, there’s a thin line between annoyance and adoration.

Rating: 18+ Violence, Language, Blood, Death, and Smut.

Chapter 8

If you could rewind time you would in an instant.

You couldn’t put your finger on when everything had gone to shit.

Sure you were there, you saw as the team split in two in the compound, difference of right and wrong and opinion driving a pointed wedge into the bond that had been forged. But still a big part of you hoped things wouldn’t get as bad as they had.

That hope faded the day of the signing.

It had all happened so quickly there was no possible way you could’ve stopped it.

One second you’re meeting King T’Chaka and Prince T’Challa alongside Natasha, then the building is blown up, and the next thing you know, you’re waking up in a medical bed.

You groggily open your eyes, all your senses fading in. You hear the TV in the room and you sit up quickly, which is a bad move.

“I’d slow down if I were you, you took a pretty big hit.”

Following the voice, you find Doctor Cho, head of the Avengers med team. She walks closer with a clipboard in hand.

“Can you tell me what you remember?”

You hold up a finger, eyes glued to the screen.

“Bucky?” You find yourself whispering in disbelief.

The news was claiming he blew up the UN in Vienna. Blurry security footage put him at the scene.

You didn’t know much about the Winter Soldier, only what Steve, Natasha, and old S.H.I.E.L.D records had disclosed. He was under HYDRA control, marked dangerous, he saved Steve from drowning after S.H.I.E.L.D went down, and he vanished.

But he’s been quiet this entire time. Not once had anyone been able to find him and he just popped up to blow up a UN building.

Shaking your head, you look away from the TV, focusing on Doctor Cho. You answer her previously asked question,“ everything except coming here.”

“Right, well, you’ve sustained injuries to your torso and head. Nothing too serious, just some bruising on your shoulders and ribs and the cut on your head. Miss Romanoff says the chairs kept the explosion from doing any major damage.”

The lack of Natasha’s presence was the first thing you noticed, and then the TV.

“Am I clear to leave or do you need to run some tests?”

“No, you’re clear to go, just let me unhook you.”

Doctor Cho makes quick work of unhooking you from the heart monitor and taking out the IV. The second you’re unhooked she double checks your injuries and sends you on your way with a warning to take it easy.

As you’re leaving out you take in the outfit you’ve been put in. Black Stark Industries sweatpants, a plain grey t-shirt, and black trainers.

You make your way through the facility with ease, finding the two heads of your team. Tony was going at it with Steve, with the news report you saw, you already know what chaos is ensuing.

They’re the only two in the room, causing you to look around. Federal agents walk around but your eyes settle on your red headed girlfriend.

She turns to you as you approach and a small smile graces her lips,“ you’re awake.”

“Yeah.”

“How’re you feeling? You threw yourself in front of me the second the bomb went off.” She informs you.

Nodding, you subtly take her hand and she laces her fingers with yours,“ I remember. Doctor Cho says I’m fine though. Just some bruising.”

Her eyebrow quirks and she smooths the thumb of her free hand over the cut on your head,“ just some bruising?”

“I’m fine Pretty Girl.” You assure her with a smile.“ But everyone else isn’t.” You send a glance to Tony and Steve in the glass room.

Natasha sighs, filling you in on everything that’s happened since the bomb. All you knew was that they said Barnes bombed the building. She tells you that King T’Chaka was killed and all about Prince T’Challa going after Barnes. You’re not in the least bit surprised when she tells you about Steve and Sam going for Barnes by themselves.

You just know this means everything is spiraling down fast and with your number one girl being okay and in front of you, you’re inclined to worry about your best friend.

“Do you have my phone?”

She narrows her eyes but pulls your phone out and hands it to you anyway.

Giving a gentle smile, you squeeze her hand, before walking away and dialing the compound.

It rings twice before you hear Wanda’s voice.

“Y/N?”

“Hey Wan.”

“You said you’d be back.” Her accusatory tone is laced with sadness.

Sighing, you drop your head,“ I know, and I planned to, I just got caught up in all kinds of things.”

“Y/N, what’s going on? There’s a reason Tony has me trapped in the compound.”

Tony locked her in the compound? Honestly it makes sense with everything going on. But has he really not told her about anything?

“He’s just trying to keep you safe Wan, we all are. Things are really tense between the team and the government right now and we don’t want them finding any excuses to hurt you.”

“They already have excuses.”

“All the more reason that you stay there. We’re doing our best to fix things.”

“Your efforts won’t mean anything to them.”

“Come on Wan-”

“I have to go.”

“Wanda don’t-” But she’s hung up already.

“Dammit.”

A gentle hand runs up your shoulder, the touch familiar and as calming as it can be given the circumstances.

Your body moves with the heavy sigh you give and when you face Natasha you give a soft smile.

“Did you know Tony locked her up in the compound?” You ask.

There’s no accusation in your tone, you’re just curious.

But when she nods you’re hurt. Why hadn’t she told you? Did she not trust that you’d keep it quiet or did she think you wouldn’t understand?

“Y/N, I know how much you care about Wanda, I wasn’t sure-”

“It’s fine. Let’s just focus on whatever the hell is about to happen to our friends.”

As gently as possible, you take her hand off your shoulder and walk away to the surveillance system.

Tony raises an eyebrow at you but limits conversation to that. You both look to the cameras as Bucky’s interview begins. Natasha stands as close to you as possible.

She knew she’d regret not telling you, but having seen how much you care for Wanda, she went with her gut and kept quiet.

No you hadn’t blown up at her, shouted and accused her of not trusting you. But your silence said more than your words would have.

You have always been willing to talk to Natasha about anything, whether you were upset with her or feeling cheesy and romantic, you used your words to express yourself. Saying nothing at all to her scared Natasha more than anything.

The doctor had spoken to Bucky for all of two minutes before the power shut off.

Tony immediately looked for source of the power outage. One glance back at the now empty glass room, you know Steve and Sam went for Bucky.

Federal agents were running around working to get the power back up and Agent Ross demanded to get eyes on Barnes.

You knew that wasn’t the problem though. It’s definitely a problem but not the problem.

More important than that, you wonder who the hell just questioned Bucky.

Wasting no time, you, Tony, and Natasha hurry upstairs.

“Please tell me you brought a suit.” Natasha says as calm as ever.

Tony unbottons his jacket and answers,“ sure did. It's a lovely Tom Ford, three-piece, two-button. I'm an active-duty non-combatant.”

“And it’s lovely, but also not bullet proof.” You remark, inciting a raised brow from him. You simply shrug.

Sharon Carter hurries by, telling you three to follow her and you do, putting ear pieces in on the way. You end up right at the fight.

With Bucky distracted by other agents you all manage to get into position.

Natasha and Sharon go after Barnes the moment he’s taken Tony down and once Sharon is down you attack as well.

He has Natasha pinned to a table, metal hand choking her when you slide in, kicking his leg and making him let her go.

Your eyes widen as he punches at you with his metal hand, quickly rolling away and jumping up you aim a kick at his side and he grabs your leg, flinging you into a cluster of tables.

Had you not already been injured you would’ve gotten up faster but that didn’t matter, Prince T’Challa seemingly appearing out of thin air, goes for Bucky and they’re quick to leave your like of sight.

Every muscle in your body screams in protest when you start to sit up. Your head pounds a little but your worry shifts to the red head you just watched get choked.

Groaning, you push yourself up, clutching your side in pain, and going over to her.

She’s still breathing heavily, eyes on the ceiling in slight shock.

“Hey, eyes on me Romanoff, you’re okay.” You tell her, free hand gently gripping her shoulder and pulling her into a sitting position on the table.

When she focuses on you her eyes scan your even more injured form but you don’t let her dwell on it, instead turning to Tony and Sharon.

Tony’s still on the ground, a bruise quickly forming on his cheek, but apart from shock he’s other wise okay. Sharon however is out cold.

You squeeze Natasha’s shoulder before going over to the blonde and kneeling down. Her chest moves with shallow breaths so you know she’s not dead but that doesn’t mean she’s okay.

“Come on Carter.” You grumble, sliding an arm under her legs and one behind her back, ignoring every bit of pain you feel.

Both Natasha and Tony watch you as you carry the blonde.

“Don’t just stare at me, get up, come with me to medical.” You nearly snap at the two.

A brief pause, then they’re getting up, and following you. Or at least they start to.

When they see Secretary Ross they follow after him and after you’ve taken Sharon to medical, you go to where they are.

Natasha’s voice is the first to meet your ears,“ what happens when the shooting starts? What, you gonna kill Steve Rogers?”

You frown, eyes instantly snapping to the Secretary as he answers.

“If we’re provoked. Barnes would’ve been eliminated in Romania if it wasn’t for Rogers.”

“Which is better how?” You speak up.“ Had you killed Barnes this would be an even bigger shit show.”

The secretary eyes you,“ there are dead people who would be alive now. Feel free to check my math.” His gaze shifts to Tony.

They go back and forth until Mister Secretary tells Tony you all have 36 hours to bring them in.

Your eyes don’t leave Ross until he’s completely gone.

Tony slumps into his chair, hand running over his chest, mentioning the numbness of his arm. Natasha stands and places a hand on his shoulder.

“You alright?”

For the briefest moment you see him about to say no, but he pulls it together and says always. Before you all launch into a plan.

Natasha and Tony make their plans clear before looking to you.

You heave a sigh,“ I have to go to the compound.”

They both hold uncertain gazes.

“If Steve tries to reach Wanda I have to interfere. If he involves her any further it’s game over for her and I can’t let that happen.”

Natasha steps to you, hand finding your wrist,“ you know it won’t be that easy.”

“Has it ever been?”

********

Fast isn’t fast enough. When you get to the compound there’s an explosion in the distance.

Heart pounding, you race to find Wanda. Eyes darting in every possible direction.

Steve came for her just like you thought her would.

Fear starts to creep in. It plays on every doubt you’ve had about all of this working out and it makes you move faster.

You run into her, and surpisngly Clint, at the entrance.

Looking at Clint, you quirk an eyebrow,“ you know your best friends on the other side of things don’t you?”

He shrugs,“ it’s not often that Nat and I see eye to eye. But it’s good that you two have each other’s backs.”

“Guys,” your shoulders drop,“ we should all have each other’s backs. Forgive me for still singing kumbaya but, there’s still a chance we can fix things.”

They both stare at you, taking in your words,“ you join Steve and this gets near impossible to come back from.”

Clint is the one who replies,“ you know it isn’t that simple.”

“But it is! All of this is making it harder.” Your arms gesture around you, mainly to the smoke billowing in the distance.

The building literally shakes and for a moment you wonder if it’s another bomb, you wonder who else is here. And then you remember: Vision.

Wanda doesn’t meet your eyes when you look at her and it’s clear she did something to him. You know she would never truly hurt him but they got past him somehow and you know it wasn’t Clint.

“Y/L/N get outta the way.” The archer’s eyes plead with you, knowing that if Vision gets to them again they won’t be able to leave.

But you don’t care, you’re goal here is bigger than whatever his reasons are.

Ignoring him, you look directly at your best friend,“ I told you I’d come back. I’m here now Wan and I need you to trust me.”

“I did.”

Your heart breaks at her words.

“Did you know Stark was going to lock me up here? Before I told you.” She asks, clarifying in the end.

Taking a small step forward you answer,“ of course not. Had I known it never would’ve happened. I want what’s best for you but I know you’re not a threat and you’re not a prisoner.” You take another step and Clint raises his bow, an arrow aimed at you.

“Clint I swear if you shoot that thing at me I’m gonna snap it in half with your head.”

Of course you won’t actually hurt him but his threatening action pisses you off. He’s not listening. Neither of them are.

“Don’t you two care about this team at all? Or are you too hooked on listening to Steve’s ideals?” You snap, now standing about a foot away from them.

An arrow is still pointed at you but you know he won’t use it, not yet at least. You’re hoping not at all.

“I just watched Barnes kick the crap out of Tony and Nat, only for Steve to aid in his escape. Steve is loyal to a fault, one that makes him and Barnes look guiltier. He’s dragging you into a fight that doesn’t have to happen.”

Wanda’s green eyes search yours,“ you don’t get it do you?”

“No you don’t get it Wanda!” You’re emotions spike, the stress of everything bringing you to this angry state.“ The second you leave this compound, the second you meet Steve where ever the fuck he asked you to, you become the threat they think you are!”

That familiar fear flickers through her eyes but vanishes just as quickly.

“You’ve done so much good and you’re about to jeopardize that for Steve’s agenda and I don’t fucking understand! Why does that matter more than your freedom?”

It’s with this words that you see you’ve lost her, determination now set in her eyes.

“You forfeited my freedom when you signed the Accords.”

When her eyes glance over at Clint you move out the way of the arrow he fires at you. The end is blunted so you know it was most likely electrified or a net.

You barely make another move when Wanda’s magic wraps around your ankles and wrists, bringing them together and forcing you to the floor.

“Wanda please don’t do this.” Sad, angry tears start to roll down your cheeks but she leaves you with an almost expressionless face.

You call her name until her red magic is no longer trapping you. She’s long gone and you know it.

“Fuck!” Your fist nearly smashes into the wall but it’s stopped by the red synthetic hand of Vision.

The androids eyes look into yours,“ we can still save her.” He tells you.

A huge part of you wants to believe him but you know it’s not going to be nearly as easy as he says.

“Come on, we need to meet Tony and the others.”

*******

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#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romonova #black widow x reader #black widow #marvel x reader #mcu #reader insert #Thin Line

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