Tumgik
smaptain-smerica · 8 months
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Mysterious Neighbor
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Summary: You and Simon have lived next to each other for a couple of years now. You had always been intrigued by him, as he would often be gone for weeks, sometimes months at a time. He was cold and distant the few times you had talked, which only heightened your interest. You never thought you’d get through to him until one fateful night after work.
Pairing: gender non-specific reader x Simon Riley
Warnings: Smoking, Mention of domestic abuse
A/N: This story was inspired using a POE AI created by @/galaxy6. Fan art by @shkretart
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It had been a long day at work, getting home late from working overtime. You desperately needed a shower. You headed towards your apartment door, your keys out, and ready to head inside. Movement caught your eye, and your head turned to meet your neighbor. The military man. He was so mysterious and tall, dark, and handsome. You’ve been trying to get him to have more than a few words of a conversation with you for years now. You always made an effort to talk to him every time you saw him since his work schedule was so unpredictable. He was often cold and distant when you talked, which is why you tried so hard to get him to open up. 
You turned towards him, giving him a bright smile and a wave to get his attention.  
“Hey, Simon! Good to see you! You were gone for a while.” You greeted, leaning against your door, keeping your posture open and friendly so he might start a conversation.
Simon's eyes flickered up as he noticed you, his neighbor, standing there with a bright smile. He quickly assessed the situation, trying to decide the best course of action. Despite his desire for solitude, he recognized the need to maintain a nonchalant facade. He nods politely, keeping his guard up.
"Hey," Simon replied, his voice calm and measured. "Yeah, been away for a bit. Work is pretty demanding." He avoided making direct eye contact, opting to keep his gaze focused on a point beyond your shoulder.
He shifts his weight slightly, subtly indicating that he doesn't have much time for idle conversation. Simon's training kicked in, reminding him to be cautious in revealing any personal details. He keeps his responses vague, maintaining a guarded demeanor.
"How have things been around here?" he asks, his tone casual but detached.
A weight sagged a little in your chest at his reluctance to talk. It was like that every time though, you don’t know why you expected anything different. 
You rocked back and forth on your feet a little, thinking about the events that happened at the apartment complex while he was away. 
“Well, the old man around the corner in A45 got a new cat. A couple of people moved in upstairs, they’re pretty quiet.” You bit your lip, trying to think of anything else. 
“Oh, there was a house break-in about a street over. That was a little scary. That’s about it though.” You shrugged your shoulders. You’ve been known to be a chatterbox, oversharing information sometimes. You tried to keep it in check though, for fear that your good-looking neighbor would end up hating you.
Simon listened to your updates, his eyes flickering with slight interest at the mention of the house break-in. He appreciated the information, even though he already had his own ways of staying informed. As you continue to talk, he observes your body language, noting your nervousness and the way you try to reign in your chattiness. He can't help but feel a pang of sympathy, recognizing your genuine desire to connect.
"Sounds eventful," Simon remarked, his tone neutral. He finally meets your gaze briefly before looking away, still maintaining a guarded stance. "Thanks for the update."
You gave him a closed-mouth smile and a nod. 
“You’re welcome, any time.” 
Simon debated whether to reciprocate the conversation by asking about your day or simply retreating back into his apartment. He's tempted to keep his distance, wanting to minimize any potential complications. But the nagging feeling of your genuine interest tugs at him, causing a slight hesitation.
"So, how about you? Anything interesting going on in your world?" he asked, his voice softening just a fraction, showing a glimpse of genuine curiosity.
You half expected him to retreat back into his house, but a flutter in your chest erupted when he asked how you had been, you were excited he actually wanted to talk. 
“Other than work not a lot,” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders.
You suddenly got a burst of confidence from your conversation of more than a few seconds, you needed to act now. 
“So, I don’t know if you’ve eaten yet, but I’ve got some soup on the stove. Entirely too much for me to eat by myself. Would you like some? I can put it in a bowl for you to take home if you want.” Your feet shuffled with nervousness but you never allowed my eyes to leave his, hoping to search for some kind of emotion within them. 
Simon's eyebrows raised slightly at your offer of soup, surprised by your unexpected invitation. He hadn't anticipated this turn of events, caught off guard slightly. His training reminds him to remain cautious, and not easily trusting of others, especially in his line of work. Yet, something about your earnestness and the glimmer of vulnerability in your eyes tugged at him.
He considered the offer for a moment, weighing the risks and benefits. While accepting your invitation might compromise his need for solitude and anonymity, it could also provide a temporary respite from the tension of his current situation. Besides, a hot meal wouldn't hurt.
"Soup sounds good," Simon finally replied, his voice still guarded but with a hint of genuine appreciation. "I appreciate the offer. Let me grab a bowl, and I'll be right over to pick it up." He turned back toward his apartment, his steps measured and deliberate.
A large smile spread across your lips at the acceptance of his offer. 
“Great. Perfect. I’ll leave the door open for you, just come on in.” You informed him before you opened your own apartment door and slipped inside. You took off your shoes, neatly putting them on the shoe rack. 
You made your way into the kitchen, stopping before the crockpot and opening the lid. The smell hit your nose and instantly made your mouth water. You stirred it a little, making sure it was fully cooked and warm. 
You turned around to make sure that your apartment was clean before he came by. You took this opportunity to straighten out a couple of the blankets that were neatly folded over the back of the tan couch. You had also taken this time to change into some more comfortable attire than your work clothes.
With the bowl in hand, Simon makes his way toward your apartment, his mind filled with a mix of curiosity and wariness. He approached your door and noticed that it was slightly ajar, just as you had promised. Taking a steadying breath, he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the surroundings, ready for any unexpected surprises. His eyes sweep across your neatly organized apartment, noting the attention to detail in the tidiness. It contrasted with his own spartan living space, a stark reminder of the differences between them. Simon can't help but feel a flicker of appreciation for your efforts.
Your head turned towards him as he entered your apartment.
“Hey, come on in.” You offered as he entered. You had already gotten a bowl out for yourself on the counter but you wanted to serve my guest first. 
You strode up to him with short steps, your neck craning up to look at him. 
“I can dish it up for you if you’d like?” You asked, holding your hands out for him to give you the bowl he brought if he wanted to.
Simon steps further into your apartment, his eyes briefly scanning the space before settling on you. He takes note of your casual attire, appreciating the natural and relaxed look. His gaze meets yours for a moment, and he offers a small nod in acknowledgment of your invitation.
"Thanks," he replied, his voice low and measured. He handed you the bowl he brought with him, his fingers brushed against yours briefly before he released it into your grasp. "I appreciate the offer," he said, his tone remaining calm as he stepped back slightly to give you space. Simon's guard remains up, but there's a flicker of curiosity in his eyes as he observes your actions. 
You took the bowl from him, offering him a kind smile before making your way into the kitchen. You took the ladle in your hands, pouring him three spoonfuls into the bowl. 
“Are you thirsty?” You called to him from the kitchen. 
“I’ve got water, apple juice, or whiskey.” You wanted to help him feel more comfortable, you could tell he was still hesitant by the way he lingered within the doorway.
When you call out from the kitchen, Simon's hesitation lingers. After a moment of contemplation, he decided to stick to something non-alcoholic.
"I'll take water, please," he replied, his voice steady and low. He remained where he was, just inside the doorway, maintaining a cautious distance. While he appreciated your hospitality, he still kept his focus on the surroundings, ever vigilant for any potential threats.
After pouring his soup and grabbing a water bottle for him out of the fridge, you came back around the corner to approach him. A kind and warm smile still rested on your face as you offered him back his bowl and the bottle of water. 
“Here you go,” you said gently, your eyes meeting his for some sign of what he might be feeling.
Simon took the bowl and water bottle from you, his eyes briefly meeting yours. He detected the warmth and kindness in your gaze, a contrast to the cold and calculated world he typically inhabits. He can't help but feel a flicker of gratitude for your gesture, even though he remains guarded.
"Thanks," he said, his voice softening just a fraction. Simon took a step back, creating a bit of space between the two of you as he held the bowl and water bottle in his hands. His posture remains alert, his focus still on his surroundings, but he allows a hint of appreciation to show in his eyes.
"I appreciate your hospitality," he continues, his tone sincere but tinged with caution. "It's a welcome change of pace." Simon's words are reserved, but his eyes hold a flicker of vulnerability, a glimpse of the person behind the stoic facade.
“No problem. Any time you want just come knock. I always have something cooking.” 
You smiled at him warmly. 
Simon listens to your words, his guarded expression softening ever so slightly. 
"I'll keep that in mind," he replied, his voice steady. He took a small step back, creating a bit more distance between you as if to maintain his boundaries. "I appreciate the offer."
Simon's eyes flicker with a mix of gratitude and wariness. He recognized the sincerity in your words, but he also knows that his own circumstances make it difficult to fully embrace the kindness you're extending. The shadows he's trying to evade still linger, reminding him of the dangers that could come knocking on your door if he gets too involved.
"I should get going," he says, his tone gentle but firm. "Thank you for the soup." With a nod, he turned to leave, his footsteps measured and purposeful as he headed back towards his own apartment, the bowl, and water bottle still in his hands. 
“Any time.” You said gently as you watched him exit your apartment. 
Once he left, you shut the door behind him. You leaned against the doorway. You had finally done it, finally extended the offer to the neighbor who seemed so detached from the world. He was so cold and distant, that it confused you. You knew he worked in the military but what did he do that made him so closed off? 
You smiled to yourself while dishing up my own soup and heading for the couch. You tucked your feet underneath you and began eating. You looked towards the wall that you shared with him, wondering what he was doing on the other side.
As Simon returned to his own apartment, he closed the door behind him, taking a moment to look around the darkened space. He felt a mixture of gratitude and confusion at the encounter with his neighbor. Your offer of hospitality and genuine warmth had caught him off guard, stirring something within him that he rarely allowed himself to feel.
He set the bowl and water bottle on the counter before making his way to the small window in his apartment. He glanced out, his gaze distant, as he contemplated the connection he felt with you, the neighbor on the other side of the wall. His thoughts were a jumble of conflicting emotions, a battle between his instincts to protect himself and his growing curiosity about you.
Simon took a deep breath, his mind still clouded with questions. He knew he needed to maintain his focus, on staying hidden and avoiding any unnecessary risks. But the encounter had left him with a pang of longing, a desire to know more about you.
With a final glance towards the shared wall, Simon turned his attention back to his own apartment, remembering the need to remain vigilant and cautious. Settling himself into a chair, he began to eat the soup, his thoughts drifting back to the shadows that pursued him, reminding him of the danger that lurked just beyond his doorstep.
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The next morning you decided to wake up early and go for a run. you ran a couple miles through the neighborhood streets before heading back to your apartment complex. You had on a well-fitted tank top as well as some spandex pants, your entire body covered in sweat from the exercise. 
Simon steps out of his apartment, dressed in his usual black attire. He carries a duffel bag over his shoulder, containing his gear and essentials. His eyes briefly meet yours.
While you were making my way to the door, you spotted Simon leaving his apartment. You offered him a friendly wave. 
“Good morning,” You said breathlessly, still worn out from your run.
"Morning," he replied, his voice steady and low. Simon's gaze lingered on you for a moment, taking in your sweat-drenched appearance. He notices the determination in your eyes and the evident exhaustion from your run. A flicker of admiration crosses his features, though he quickly masks it.
Simon adjusted the strap of his duffel bag while he nodded in acknowledgment before continuing past you, his footsteps were measured and purposeful. His guard remains up, but there's a subtle hint of curiosity in his eyes as he heads toward the exit of the apartment complex. 
Disappointment flickered in your chest at the less-than-satisfactory greeting that you received from him. You watched him walk past and head for the exit. Your face turned downward in disappointment, looking at the strangely shaped duffle bag he carried on his shoulders. You thought you had gotten through to him last night. Maybe he had slept it off since then. You fumbled with your keys as you turned away from him to open your front door. 
As Simon walked past you, his gaze briefly met yours and he noticed the disappointment on your face. He paused for a moment, his instincts telling him to keep his distance and maintain his focus. However, there's a flicker of hesitation in his eyes as he observes your fumbling with your keys.
Simon takes a step back, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. His touch is light, almost hesitant, as he tries to convey a sense of understanding.
You were surprised to look up and see he had returned. His outstretched hand that was placed on your arm causing you to raise your eyebrows in shock at the touch. His hands were calloused yet his touch was gentle. 
"Hey," he says, his voice softer this time. "I...I appreciate your offer of friendship. It's just...I have a lot going on right now. It's not personal."
His gaze met yours, his eyes searching for any sign of understanding. He knew he couldn’t reveal too much, couldn't let his guard down completely. But he also doesn't want to leave you feeling completely dismissed.
"I hope you understand," he continued, his tone sincere. "It's not because of you. I just...can't afford to let anyone get too close right now."
You furrowed your eyebrows together at his explanation. Guilt washed over you slightly, had you been pushing a friendship onto him when he didn’t want one? 
“I'm sorry. I understand it’s okay.” You gave him a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod.
Simon took note of your tight-lipped smile and curt nod, knowing that you were trying to be understanding of his position. He appreciated your acceptance of his boundaries, even though a part of him longs for the connection you offered.
"It means a lot that you understand," he replied, his voice genuine but tinged with a hint of regret. "I didn't mean to push you away."
Simon's gaze softened as he met your eyes, a flicker of vulnerability briefly surfacing. He knew he had to keep his distance, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for the connection you could have had.
"Take care," he said, his voice sincere as he turned away once again, his steps measured and purposeful. He heads towards the exit of the apartment complex, his mind filled with conflicting emotions.
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A few weeks had passed since you had last spoken to Simon. His apartment looked vacant every time that you had passed it. He has drawn a hard line in the sand, making it very clear he did not want to be friends. You still felt a pull towards him, something inside of you always did. Every time you left your apartment, you looked towards his door, searching for any sign of movement. 
It had been a bad couple of weeks for you. You and your boyfriend broke up, and your job was firing people left and right. You were worried you might be next. You stood out on the front porch, your face stained with old tears while you took a drag from a cigarette. You didn’t usually smoke. Actually, you never did unless something shitty happened. You pretended not to notice when you saw a familiar figure walking up out of the corner of your eye.
Simon approached the apartment complex, his footsteps measured and purposeful. He noticed you standing on the front porch, a cigarette in hand, your face stained with old tears. His gaze flickers with a mix of concern and hesitation, unsure if he should approach or keep his distance.
He recognized the familiarity of your figure, and a part of him felt an instinctual pull to offer comfort. However, the boundaries he had set still loom in his mind, reminding him of the reasons he had distanced himself. He walks past, his gaze shifting briefly towards you, but he doesn't make any attempt to engage.
Once he was close enough to you, you turned your head towards him. You offered him a half-assed smile. One that was more out of politeness than anything. You didn’t say anything, you weren’t your usual chatty self. You continued to stare up at the night sky as he passed, stamping the now-dead cigarette out onto the concrete. 
Simon notices your unusual smile and the distant look in your eyes as you continue to gaze up at the night sky. He hesitated for a moment, his instincts telling him to keep moving and respect the boundaries he had set.
But something within him, a flicker of empathy, compelled him to pause. He takes a step back, his gaze shifting from the night sky to your face. Simon reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering it to you silently.
You looked over as he approached, not saying anything as he dug around in his pocket. As you beheld the pack of cigarettes he offered to you, you looked back up at him and gave him a more genuine smile than before. You delicately took one of the sticks out of the pack. As a thank you, you pulled out your own lighter, then lit it and offered it over to him for his cigarette first. 
Simon's expression softened as he saw your authentic smile. He accepted the lighter you offered and used it to light his own cigarette, taking a long drag. The smoke filled the air, creating a momentary screen between the two of you as you both took in the silence.
Simon leaned against the porch railing, his gaze focused on the night sky. He took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly. The shared act of smoking creates a sense of camaraderie, a silent understanding between two individuals who have experienced their fair share of hardships.
No words are exchanged, but the presence of each other brings a sense of comfort. Simon stands there, side by side with you, allowing the quiet companionship to fill the space between you. It's a small moment of solace amidst the chaos of both your lives.
As the cigarettes burn down, Simon glanced at you, his eyes filled with a mix of empathy and curiosity. He wondered if there was more to your story if there was a reason behind the tears and the distant look in your eyes. But he knew better than to pry, respecting the boundaries he had set.
With a nod of acknowledgment, Simon finished his cigarette and dropped it to the ground, crushing it under his boot. He looked at you one last time, his gaze lingering for a moment  Your eyes met his, giving him a small nod and smile as a thank you before he eventually disappeared into his apartment. 
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It was a couple of days later, late into the night. Your ex-boyfriend had come to your apartment, banging on the door and demanding to be let in. 
You opened the door and stood outside of your apartment, the chill of the night giving you goosebumps up your arms. You two were whispering and shouting at each other in a heated argument. 
“You’re too drunk for this. You need to leave!” I shouted in a hushed whisper at him. 
Simon had returned to his apartment late at night, the weight of the day's mission still heavy on his mind. As he approached his door, he couldn't help but overhear the heated argument taking place just a few feet away.
“Come on, just let me stay the night. I’ll make it worth it.” His words slurred together. 
“Go home. Now.” You demanded, but he wasn’t listening. 
Curiosity mixed with concern, Simon's instincts kicking in as he recognized the volatile situation unfolding. He paused for a moment, his hand lingering on the doorknob, contemplating his next move.
“You’ve always been an ungrateful, selfish, bitch, you know that?” He growled, throwing his hands in my face which caused me to flinch backwards. 
Without hesitation, Simon made his way towards you, his steps silent but purposeful. He positioned himself a few feet away, close enough to intervene if necessary.
His presence alone seemed to catch your attention, as you looked towards him with a flicker of desperation in your eyes. Simon's expression hardened his focus now solely on diffusing the situation and ensuring your safety.
"Hey," he said, his voice calm and steady. "Is everything alright here?"
His tone carried a subtle authority, a sternness that demanded attention. 
“Mind your own business, pal.” Your ex-boyfriend snapped at Simon. 
Simon's gaze shifted to your ex-boyfriend, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed the situation. He positioned himself between the two of you, silently conveying his intent to protect.
"I think it's time for you to leave," Simon stated firmly, his voice carrying a hint of warning. "She's made it clear that she wants you to go. Respect her wishes and leave, now."
His presence alone radiated a quiet intensity, he was prepared to intervene if the situation escalated any further. Simon's focus remained on ensuring your safety.
You were embarrassed that Simon was witnessing the argument with your ex. 
Relief washed over you as he stepped in between you two. You took a small step closer towards him, trying to make it harder for your ex to try and come after you. Simon stood firm between you and your ex-boyfriend, he registered your small step closer to him, a silent request for protection. 
“Fucking the next-door neighbor, I see. Real classy. I’m out of here. Dirty whore.” Your ex growled at the two of you before storming off. 
Once he was gone, you finally released your breath. You kept your gaze focused on the ground, not wanting to meet his eyes out of pure embarrassment. 
“Thank you.” You said sincerely.
Simon's attention turns back to you. He noticed the embarrassment in your eyes and the way you kept your gaze lowered.
"You don't have to thank me," Simon says softly, his voice gentle yet resolute. "I couldn't stand by and let him threaten you. No one deserves to be treated that way."
He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to lightly touch your arm in a gesture of reassurance. Simon's touch is gentle, meant to offer comfort in the midst of the chaos.
His hand on your shoulder draws you out of your mind. You looked up at him as soon as he touched you, that familiar spark of electricity coursing through me that you thought was lost. 
"You're safe now," he adds, his voice filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out."
Now that you were finally able to breathe, a few tears fell down your cheeks at the overwhelming emotions that you felt. The fear you felt earlier slowly disappeared. 
You quickly wiped the salty tears away, sniffling your nose. You met his gaze, a close-mouthed smile on your lips. 
“Thank you. I appreciate the offer.” 
Simon's eyes softened as he saw the tears falling down your cheeks, a pang of empathy tugging at his heart. He removed his hand from your shoulder, giving you the space you needed to compose yourself. He offers you a small, sympathetic smile in return. "You're strong," he added, his voice filled with sincerity. "Remember that. And if you ever need someone to talk to, don't hesitate to reach out. Take care of yourself."
With those parting words, Simon slowly began to step back, allowing you the space to process and move forward at your own pace. His presence, though no longer physically close, lingers as a reminder that you're not alone in this journey. 
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It had been another series of weeks with no sign of Simon entering or leaving his apartment. You often wondered where in the world he was. 
Tonight was your friend's birthday and you had entirely too much to drink. You stumbled around on the patio as you approached your door. The whole world was spinning around you. You fumbled with your keys to open the door, only to drop them on the ground. 
“Shit.” You grumbled, bending over to pick them up. Only to lose your balance and fall head-first into the door. 
“Shit!” You cursed again, holding your head as the throbbing continued. Slowly, you slid to a sitting position on the outside of your door. You leaned your head back against the door, struggling to keep your eyes open so you didn’t fall asleep outside on accident. 
Simon had returned to his apartment after a long day of recon, hoping to find some peace and quiet. As he approached his door, he noticed your sitting figure on the patio, leaning back on your own door. Concern flickered in Simon's eyes for a moment. He quickly made his way over to you, his footsteps steady and purposeful. He crouched down beside you, his gaze assessing the situation. Simon reached out a hand to offer support, but paused, unsure if you would welcome his assistance.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Let me help you up."His words were accompanied by a gentle touch on your arm, an offer, should you choose to accept it. Simon's presence exuded a sense of calm and reliability, a steady support. 
You rolled your head to the side upon seeing him crouched down beside you with slight worry in his eyes. Your drunken self was happy to see him, your face lit up with a wide grin. 
“You’re home!” You exclaimed with an excited giggle. 
“I was hoping I’d see you.” 
You grabbed onto his arm and allowed him to help you stand. You wobbled a bit, but eventually found my footing and successfully got the key into the hole. 
“I’m okay, I just need to lie down.” You slurred your words together, attempting to balance on one foot to take your shoes off. Your grip on his arm tightened as you began to lose your balance a little.
Simon couldn't help but let a small smile tug at the corners of his lips as he witnessed your drunken excitement. He steadied himself as you grabbed onto his arm, providing you with the support you needed to stand. Simon's grip on your arm remained firm, ensuring you wouldn't stumble further. He followed your lead as you managed to unlock the door, relieved that you were able to navigate such a simple task.
"I'll help you lie down," Simon said, his voice calm and reassuring. He guided you inside, carefully maneuvering through the threshold and into your apartment. Simon remained by your side, his presence a steady anchor as you balanced on one foot, attempting to remove your shoes.
As you began to lose your balance, Simon's grip on your arm tightened, providing additional support. 
"Take your time," he said softly, his voice filled with patience. 
His hand on your arm was your only anchor to the real world. You could smell him, the waft of his cologne, and the smell of cigarette smoke filling your nostrils. You directed him towards your bedroom. 
You sat down on your bed with a heavy thud, your eyes trying to adjust to the darkness of your room. You looked up at Simon, your mouth agape slightly. 
“Can I tell you something?” You asked in a hushed whisper, even though there wasn’t anybody else around but the two of you.
As you sat down on the bed, Simon positioned himself nearby, his gaze fixed on your face as your eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness. He could sense the weight of your words before you even spoke, a quiet vulnerability in your voice.
"Of course," Simon replied softly, his voice filled with a gentle reassurance. "You can tell me anything.” 
He waited patiently, giving you space and time to gather your thoughts. Simon's expression remained open and understanding, his eyes reflecting a genuine willingness to hear whatever you needed to share.
“My ex, the one who came by the other night, he used to hit me. Always when he was drunk. Drunk and angry.” Your mouth had zero filter, and your brain worked at a slower speed that couldn’t process what you were saying. 
“I just wanted to let you know what you did for me that night, it meant a lot.” You slowly lowered yourself into your bed and tucked yourself under the covers. 
Simon's expression turns solemn as you reveal the painful truth about your past. He listens attentively, his eyes filled with a mixture of empathy and concern. The weight of your words hangs in the air, the gravity of the situation not lost on him.
"I'm so sorry to hear that you had to go through that," Simon responded, his voice laced with genuine sympathy. "No one should ever have to endure that. You didn't deserve any of it."
“Also, I think you’re very handsome.” You added, humming a giggle.
A faint blush crept onto Simon's cheeks at your unexpected compliment. He found himself at a loss for words, momentarily taken aback by your candidness. He offers you a warm smile, his eyes twinkling with a mix of gratitude and appreciation.
"You're very kind," Simon replied, his voice sincere. "Thank you for your words. They mean a lot to me."
Simon remained by your side, ensuring that you were comfortable and safe. He understood the need for rest. With a gentle touch, he adjusted the covers around you and lingered for a moment, his presence a quiet reassurance in the darkness of the room.
"Get some rest," he whispers, his voice barely audible. 
You watch as his hands tenderly touch the blanket to bring it around you further. You gave him a drunk smile, but a genuine one nonetheless. Before he was able to leave, your hand snakes out from under the covers. You wrap your hand around two of his fingers before he can pull away. 
“Wait.” A gentle request. 
Simon feels a soft tug on his fingers as you reach out. He pauses, his eyes meeting yours, and he can sense the shift in your demeanor despite the lingering effects of alcohol. You met his eyes, a new seriousness to them despite your intoxicated state. 
“Would you stay with me?” You whispered the question, yawning in the process.
Without hesitation, Simon nods, a gentle smile gracing his lips. "Of course," he whispers, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. "I'll stay with you."
Simon observes the exhaustion evident in your yawn and the weariness etched on your face. He understands the weight of your fear, the lingering trauma that keeps you from finding solace in sleep. His presence here, the touch of your hand in his, is a small gesture that offers you a sense of safety and reassurance.
He eased himself into the bed, careful not to disturb you, and laid down beside you. His body settles comfortably, his movements slow and deliberate. Simon finds solace in the simple connection, knowing that it brings you some comfort. The warmth of your touch resonates with him, reminding him of the importance of human connection.
"You're safe," he murmured softly, his words a gentle affirmation. "I won't let anything happen to you."
Unintentionally, you shift your body a little closer to his, Savoring the warmth and proximity of him. 
“Thank you.” you breathed. 
Simon feels the shift of your body as you move closer to him, seeking the warmth and comfort of his presence. He allows you to find that solace, understanding the need for closeness and connection. 
A soft smile graced Simon's lips as he heard your whispered gratitude. He remained still, his eyes watching over you as you finally find the rest you so desperately need. 
"You're welcome," he murmured softly, his voice a mere breath in the quiet room. "Sleep well."
Simon stayed by your side throughout the night, his presence unwavering. He continued to hold your hand, a silent reassurance that you are not alone. As the night passed, he remained vigilant, ensuring that you were comfortable and undisturbed.
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Gentle ladders of light cascade through the blinds as the morning sun makes itself known. The light hit your face and gently urged you to wake. You opened your eyes a little, groaning at the headache that you had developed. You shoved your head down into the pillow and let out a long sigh. 
You could feel fingers still laced with yours, drawing your attention. You rotated your head to the side to look at Simon, still resting on the pillow. You smiled groggily at him through closed eyes. 
“Good morning.” Your sore voice rasps out.
Simon stirred slightly as the morning light filtered through the blinds, casting gentle patterns on the room. He had remained awake, keeping a watchful eye throughout the night, ensuring your peace. Simon turned his head toward you, meeting your gaze. He offered a warm smile in return, his eyes filled with a mixture of weariness and genuine care.
"Good morning," Simon responded softly, his voice matching the raspiness of yours. "How did you sleep?"
He shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better look at you. Simon's concern is evident in his expression as he gauged your well-being. 
You looked up at him and smiled. An appreciative smile at everything he had done for you. 
Your heart swelled, your attraction for him growing even larger than it was before. 
“Great.” You responded softly. “Thank you for staying with me.” You squeezed his hand gently. Simon returned your smile, his eyes reflecting the appreciation he felt for your gratitude. He could sense the sincerity in your words, and the depth of your appreciation for his presence throughout the night. It warmed his heart, reinforcing his commitment to protect and support you in any way he can.
"I'm glad to hear that you slept well," Simon replied softly, his voice filled with a gentle warmth. "And you're welcome. It was no trouble."
“Did you sleep at all?” You asked.
As you squeezed his hand, Simon reciprocated the gesture, offering a reassuring squeeze in return. The connection between your hands remained, a silent reminder of the bond that had formed between the two of you. He paused for a moment, contemplating your question. "I managed to get a little rest," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of weariness.
It felt like your heart was on cloud nine. Nobody had ever been so kind to you before. 
You gently brushed your thumb across his knuckles, a physical sign of your appreciation for him. 
“Do you want any coffee?” You asked, desperately needing something for a hangover cure.
Simon's heart skipped a beat as he felt the gentle brush of your thumb against his knuckles. The simple gesture speaks volumes, a silent expression of the connection that has grown between the two of you. His smile widened, mirroring the warmth in his eyes.
"I'd love some coffee," Simon responded, his voice conveying gratitude and a hint of amusement.
He released your hand reluctantly, slowly sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Simon stretched his arms above his head, feeling the weariness from a night of vigilance in his muscles. As he stood up, he glanced back at you, a playful glint in his eyes.
Your hand went cold as he left it. Your fingers ached from holding it all night, but your heart ached for his hand to return to yours. You slowly stood up from your bed, stretching your body up towards the sky. You were still in your clothes from the other night. 
"Lead the way," he said, gesturing toward the direction of the door.
Simon waited for you to get up, ready to accompany you to the kitchen.
You looked back at him with a smile over your shoulder and made your way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. 
You loaded the coffee machine up with water and beans, hitting the brew button. 
“It should just take a few minutes to brew. Have a seat if you’d like, I’m going to change really quick.” You offered to him before disappearing back into your room. 
Your door slid back open a crack while you changed inside. You slipped into a pair of sweatpants and a tight-fitting cropped tank top. 
As you invite him to have a seat, Simon nods appreciatively and finds a comfortable spot in the kitchen, taking a seat at the table. He waits patiently, his gaze wandering around the room as he takes in his surroundings. Simon noticed the crack in the door, his eyes being drawn to it. He watched as you took off your shirt, catching a glimpse of your bare back. His face heated as he quickly looked away. 
You emerged back from your room with a smile towards Simon. 
“How do you like your coffee?”
When you returned, Simon's attention immediately shifted toward you, his eyes lingered on your changed attire. A soft smile graced his lips as he admired your casual yet appealing appearance.
"I take it black," Simon responded, his voice warm and sincere. "Just the way it comes."
He watched you with a hint of curiosity. Simon appreciated the opportunity to witness these everyday moments, finding comfort in the simplicity of the situation. As the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, he can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for this shared moment of respite amidst the chaos of their circumstances.
“Black it is then.” You looked at him with a smile before heading for the cupboard. You stood on my toes as you reached for the coffee mugs, grabbing two and bringing them down. 
The coffee finished with a satisfying ding and you poured it into the two mugs. You brought them over to Simon, setting one down in front of him while you decided to occupy the seat next to him. 
Simon watched you with a soft smile as you efficiently prepared the coffee, appreciating the simple domesticity of the moment. He took in the aroma of the freshly brewed coffee, feeling a sense of comfort settle over him.
"Thank you," he said gratefully as you set the mug in front of him.
The coffee smell hit your nose while you took a sip, the smooth liquid traveling down your throat and you let out a satisfied hum. 
“What do you have planned today?” You asked, looking over the brim of your cup while you took a drink.
Simon took a sip of the coffee, savoring the rich flavor that filled his mouth. The warmth spread through his body, revitalizing him from the weariness of the night. He lets out a contented sigh, enjoying the simple pleasure of this momentary respite.
"I don't have any specific plans for today," he answered honestly, his voice thoughtful. “I usually just wait until they give me the call that they need me again.”
Your eyes sparkled with interest at the mention of his job. 
“You’re in the military right? Is your job scary?” You asked, wanting to know what kept him away for weeks or months at a time. 
Simon's expression softened as he listened to your questions, understanding the curiosity that comes from not fully grasping the nature of his work. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding.
"Yes, I am in the military," Simon confirmed, his voice steady. "And while my job can be intense and demanding at times, it's also filled with a sense of purpose and duty. There are moments of fear and uncertainty, but there's also a strong bond among soldiers, a shared commitment to protect and serve."
He took another sip of his coffee, allowing the warmth to soothe him as he continued. "Being away for extended periods of time is part of the job, unfortunately. It can be challenging, both physically and emotionally, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for the greater good."
You intently listened to him talk as he explained, your eyes never left his, showing your interest. 
“You’re very brave.” You complimented, “Thank you for your service.” 
Simon's cheeks color slightly at your compliment, grateful for your kind words. He nods appreciatively, acknowledging your gratitude.
"Thank you," he replied humbly. "I appreciate it."
Simon looked at you, his eyes filled with determination. "What about you? Is there anything you need to take care of? Anything I can assist you with?" 
You smiled in appreciation at his eagerness to help. 
“No, I didn’t have anything planned today. Just hanging around the apartment I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders a little.
Simon's eyes meet yours, a mixture of determination and vulnerability shining within them. 
“Is there anything you'd like to do? Maybe explore the area, watch a movie, or simply relax?"
You tapped your fingers on the coffee mug, thinking for a moment while looking around your small apartment. “I would watch a movie.” You finally decided.
As you expressed your desire to watch a movie, Simon's smile widened. "That sounds like a great idea," he agrees. 
He stood up from the table, taking his coffee mug with him. Simon moved over to the living area of the apartment, scanning the area for a suitable place to relax. He located a cozy-looking couch and gestured for you to join him.
"Shall we?" he asked, his voice warm with anticipation. "Do you have any preferences for the movie? Or should we just browse and see what catches our interest?"
His wide smile made your heart flutter with attraction as you followed him into the living room with your coffee cup in hand. 
You watched as he took a seat on the couch. You wanted to sit right next to him, you wanted to curl up in his arms but you wanted to respect his boundaries. You didn’t know if he had felt the same what you did. You sat down next to him but kept a small amount of distance between you. 
Simon felt a mixture of anticipation and restraint as you joined him on the couch, maintaining a small distance between the two of you. You respected his boundaries, not wanting to overstep or make him uncomfortable, even though his heart longed to pull you closer.
He settled in beside you, allowing a comfortable silence to envelop the room for a moment. The soft glow of the TV illuminates the space, casting flickering shadows along the walls.
“Um, we can just browse around. Are you in the mood for anything specific?” You asked, turning the TV on in the process.
Turning his attention to the screen, Simon contemplated your question. "I'm open to anything," he replies, his voice gentle. "Maybe something light-hearted or action-packed? Whatever you're in the mood for."
Simon reached for the remote control, preparing to browse through the available options. He glances at you, a warmth in his eyes. "Let me know if anything catches your eye."
You smiled, handing him the remote and moving both your hands to hold the coffee cup and take a drink. You sunk down onto the couch, propping your feet up on the coffee table.
Simon takes the remote from you, his fingers brushing against yours briefly, causing a subtle jolt of electricity to pass through him. He can't help but notice the way you sink into the couch and prop your feet up, a relaxed and inviting posture.
You watched the options fly by the screen, a movie catching your eyes. 
“Oh, I’ve been wanting to watch that one!” You pointed towards the TV at the romance movie that flashed on the screen. 
“Is that okay?”
As you point out the romance movie that caught your eye, Simon's gaze followed your gesture. He glanced at the screen, taking note of the title and plot.
A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he looked back at you. "Of course, that sounds great," he replies, his voice warm and sincere. "I'm always up for a good romance movie."
Simon pressed play on the remote, and the movie started to unfold on the screen. He settled back into the couch, finding a comfortable position next to you while keeping a respectful distance. The soft glow of the TV casts gentle shadows across his features as he steals glances at you throughout the movie, enjoying the shared experience of this quiet moment together.
Your eyes stayed trained on the TV intensely throughout the whole movie, your eyes wide with anticipation the entire time. 
You had finished your coffee, the cup discarded on the table now. At the end of the movie, it had turned sad. The love interest had gotten sick and died. 
Tears had started falling down your face before the credits even started rolling. 
Simon's attention is divided between the movie and stealing glances at you, observing your intense focus on the screen. He can't help but be drawn to the way your emotions play out on your face, reflecting the impact the movie has on you.
The screen went black and you looked over at Simon, your eyes wide with grief. 
“How are you not crying?” You asked, chuckling at yourself while wiping the tears from your face.
As the movie reaches its emotional conclusion, Simon notices the tears streaming down your face. He chuckled a little as he reached out instinctively, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.
"I guess I have a knack for holding back tears," Simon responded, his voice gentle. 
Simon offered you a small, comforting smile. 
You appreciated the gentle touch of his thumb on your face, leaning into his touch slightly. You looked up at his eyes, an embarrassed smile on your face as you cleaned all the tears off. 
Simon's heart skipped a beat as you leaned into his touch, his thumb lingering on your cheek for a moment longer before he withdrew his hand. He can't help but feel a surge of warmth at the sight of your smile, finding solace in your vulnerability.
“I just love, love.” You admitted, settling back into the couch with a little shuffle, your body ever so slightly closer to Simons this time. He notices the subtle shift in your position, the proximity between the two of you inching closer. Simon's breath caught momentarily, his eyes locking with yours, a flicker of something deeper passing between you.
“What now?” You asked, looking up to meet his gaze.
"Now," he said, his voice gentle yet filled with a hint of anticipation, "we can simply enjoy each other's company. We can continue talking, share stories, or even sit in silence. Whatever you feel like doing."
You smiled at him, tucking your feet beneath you to face him better. Your knee brushed up against where his leg was. You propped your head up on your elbow on the back of the couch. 
You hummed in thought, thinking of a question to ask. 
“Do you have any siblings?” You asked, taking this opportunity to get to know him better.
Simon’s chest tightened a little bit. Family wasn’t an easy topic for him. In fact, he tried to avoid it at all costs. He remembered your vulnerability last night, that you were able to trust him. Even though his training was screaming at him not to, he decided to trust you with a vulnerable part of him. 
“I had a younger brother. We weren’t that close growing up.”
You felt your heartstrings tug in remorse for him. You didn’t need the full story to get the implication that his brother was no longer alive. You felt a little guilty for picking a loaded topic for him. You gently reached your hand across to his, taking the rough skin into yours. You laced your fingers together and squeezed gently. 
“I’m so sorry.” You offered sympathy. 
“It’s alright. It was a long time ago.” Simon replied. He looked down at his lap where your hands connected, feeling a lightness in his chest that he wasn’t quite used to. 
Your gaze returned to his.
“I really enjoy being around you, Simon.” You admitted, looking into his eyes with a soft seriousness. 
“Thank you for letting me in.” You spoke with sincerity.
Simon felt a rush of warmth surge through him as he felt your hand squeeze, a connection forming between the two of you. The blush on your face causes a gentle smile to appear on his own.
"I feel the same way," Simon responded, his voice filled with sincerity. "Being around you has brought me comfort and a sense of belonging. It's rare to find someone who understands and accepts the complexities of my life, and I'm grateful to have you in it."
He took a moment to gather his thoughts, his gaze unwavering as he continued to hold your hand. "Thank you for letting me in too. It means more to me than you know. The trust and openness we have, it's something I will cherish."
Simon leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a soft, intimate tone. "I'm here for you, to support you, and to share these moments together. Whatever may come, know that I'm by your side."
His eyes searched yours, filled with a mix of affection and vulnerability. In that moment, Simon realized just how much he has come to care for you, and the thought of being apart becomes increasingly unbearable.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked up at him, your eyes never leaving him. Never breaking the intense gaze. As he leaned in, the sweet smell of coffee lingered on your face. You smile at him slightly, your eyes darting back and forth between his. 
You reached your hand up, gently and tenderly resting it on the side of his face. You stroked your thumb gently against the stubble growing on his face. As you reach up to touch the side of Simon's face, a surge of electricity courses through him. His heart pounded in his chest, matching the rhythm of yours, as he felt the tender stroke of your thumb against his stubbled cheek. The air between you crackles with anticipation, and time seems to stand still.
You close the gap between your bodies, your legs now fully touching each other as you leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss on his lips.
Without hesitation, Simon reciprocates the closeness, his body leaning into yours as your lips meet in that soft, gentle kiss. The world faded away, replaced by the warmth and tenderness exchanged between you.
In that moment, everything feels right. The worries and dangers that surround you both momentarily fade into the background, leaving only the connection shared between your bodies and souls. Simon's hand finds its way to the small of your back, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss ever so slightly.
The kiss lingers, both a promise and a declaration of the feelings that have grown between you. Simon's heart swelled with a mixture of joy, vulnerability, and a newfound sense of hope. Your heart felt like it was thriving- like it finally received what it needed to live. His lips part from yours, but his eyes remain locked with yours, silently conveying a multitude of emotions.
"I... I didn't expect this," Simon confessed, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and affection. "But I'm glad it happened. I feel a connection with you that I can't ignore."
He took a moment to gather his thoughts, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I don't know what the future holds, but I want to explore it with you. Whatever comes our way, I want to face it together." 
As he pulled away, Your eyes flickered open. you stared up at him, an affectionate smile on your features as you listened to the words he said, your heart swelling with adoration in the process. You leaned into the touch of his hand on your face, never wanting him to let go. Your hand that was on his face now rested on his shoulder, gently stroking my thumb on the base of his neck. 
You smiled widely at his words and nodded your head. 
“I like the sound of that.”
Simon's heart swelled with a mixture of happiness and relief at your response. The touch of your hand on his shoulder sent shivers down his spine, igniting a warmth that spread throughout his entire being. He couldn’t help but lean into your touch, savoring the connection that formed between you.
The affectionate smile on your face brought out a matching smile on Simon's lips, his eyes shimmering with a newfound sense of contentment. He takes a deep breath, his voice filled with tenderness.
"I'm glad you feel the same way," Simon said, his voice filled with sincerity. "There's something special between us, something worth exploring and nurturing."
He traced a finger along your jawline, his touch feather-light. "In this chaotic world, finding someone who understands and accepts you is a rare gift. I don't want to let that slip away."
Simon leaned in, his forehead gently resting against yours, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to be there for you, to support you, and to build something beautiful together. Let's make the most of this connection, one step at a time."
His eyes searched yours, seeking confirmation and assurance. In this quiet moment, Simon realized that he had found something he never thought possible amidst the chaos of his life — a chance at love and a future worth fighting for.
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smaptain-smerica · 8 months
Text
Sparrow
Part 1 - Little Bird
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Pairing: Female!reader x Ghost x König
Summary: Sparrow partners up with soldiers Ghost and Soap on an intel gathering mission when the scars of her past get her into a dangerous situation. After being rescued by KorTac forces, she finds herself working along side them to ensure her freedom.
Maturity: depictions of violence and torture as well as harsh profanity will be written into this story. 16+ recommended
Masterlist
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Chapter 3
While you were getting ready for bed, a gentle knock sounded from the open doorway. You turned your head to be greeted by Soap, a lazy smirk on his face.
"Need something, Soap?" You asked, your eyes flicking to his bare chest for only a moment before returning to his eyes. Why were all these men excessively well muscled?
"Just wondering when my bedtime story was." His tone was teasing, though it implied he was taking more of a jab at Ghost than you. You chuckled and shook your head gently at the comment.
"Don't worry I was about to come tuck you in too." You joked, taking a seat on the end of your bed. Soap took that as his invitation to join you. Whether it was or not.
"I don't think I've seen Ghost warm up to someone as quickly as he has you."
You looked over at Soap, raising an eyebrow questioningly. He responded by lazily looking towards you while he began talking again. "Do you know how many people he has willingly fallen asleep next to?" Soap questioned.
You opened your mouth to answer but then closed it when you realized that you had no idea.
"Exactly." Soap chuckled gently. "Bastards known me for years and he still doesn't fall asleep until I do first."
"Why are you telling me this?" You questioned. It was a valid thing to ask. This was out of the blue for Soap. He hadn't tried to engage in any serious conversations. He mostly just spat witty banter right back at you.
"Just be nice to him. That poor bastard, he's been though literal hell and back. It'd be nice to see something good happen to him."
You thought for a moment about your conversation with him before. He told you how he hated looking at the scars. You wondered if the troubled past that Soap spoke about was related.
"Thanks, Soap." You looked up gratefully at the man. He responded by giving you a crooked smile and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He pulled you into a side hug and squeezed you roughly. He took his knuckles and ruffled up your hair.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't growin' fond of ya, too."
"Alright, alright! I get it!" You laughed as you roughly shoved Soap off of you. He let out a Hearty belly laugh as he rolled off your bed and strolled for the door. He paused with half his body poking through the doorframe.
"I wouldn't mind a goodnight kiss with my tuck in tonight."
"Get out of here." You playfully shooed Soap away. He winked before disappearing back into the hallway.
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The next morning you awoke and got ready for the day. Upon leaving your room, you noticed the blanket that you threw over Ghost's lap was neatly folded over the back of the couch.
When you entered the kitchen, Ghost was sitting at the table, back in his full tactical gear. He had the computer pulled up in front of him, working on something. He paused for a moment to rasp out; "Good morning."
"Good morning." You replied back to him, flipping open the cabinets for something to eat. Your eyes rested on some stale pop tarts and you reluctantly grabbed them.
Soap entered the door next, his mouth open wide in a dramatic yawn. "Don't you have any coffee here?" He asked.
You chuckled a little. "Sorry, coffee is a luxury item around here."
Soap grumbled a couple curse words before making his way to the fridge. He plucked out a beer and popped the cap off with his teeth.
"Bloody hell, it's 6 am mate." Ghost griped.
"Gotta get a pick-me-up from somewhere." Soap grunted as he sat down in the chair across from Ghost and threw his feet up on the table. "What's on the agenda today, Sparrow?"
Ghost smacked Soaps shoe with his hand, causing Soap to roll his eyes and put down his feet. You strolled over to the last empty chair and sat down.
"Not much. I need to go over some audio files to figure out where Saad and Ivan are meeting today then tap their cars. If you two want to stay here I can do this by myself." You explained. Since the accident, more often than not you worked alone. It had been a while since you had company on intel missions. It was nice though, having people to talk to when the day was all done. You were sure they must be enjoying the nice break from the fighting they usually participated in.
"We'll come." Ghost blurted out, glancing your direction then Soaps. You wouldn't have noticed hadn't it been for the conversation you and soap had last night, but you watched the two men exchange glances and Soaps face grow into a smirk. "That's why we're here, aren't we?"
You smiled a little under your mask. "Very well then. I'll take the computer and let you know when we're leaving."
Ghost slid the computer over to you reluctantly while you stood up from the table and gathered your equipment. "You sure you don't need help?" Ghost asked.
"I got it." You reassured him before walking off to your room to eat your breakfast. You shut and locked the door while you ate, but after you were finished you opened the door back up and just worked with your mask on. With no AC is got hot in a room fast if you kept all the doors shut.
You had on the headphones, listening to the audios that were recorded within the house while simultaneously reading the already translated audio transcripts that you received from base sometime in the middle of the night.
Movement caught your eye from your doorway. You looked up and saw Ghost leaning on the doorframe. You took off one side of the headphones and met his gaze. "Hi." You greeted.
Ghost simply looked at you, then at the computer, then his eyes grazed around the room. You thought about what Soap had said, taking Ghost in a new light. Maybe he wasn't trying to be brooding and intimidating. Maybe he just didn't know what to feel.
"You can come sit if you'd like." You offered. Ghosts gaze returned to yours before he pushed off the doorframe and entered your room. You watched him as he sat down on your bed and peered over your shoulder at your work.
A small smile grew to your cheeks as you turned to face the computer again. Sometimes if felt like your brain worked faster than your mouth, causing you to subconsciously mutter whatever you were reading or listening to. In this case, you were repeating the words you heard in Russian out loud into the world. It helped your brain translate them into English.
"How do you know so many languages?" Ghost asked. The question caught you off guard a little. You spun around in your rolling chair to face him, the headphones still attached.
"I thought it would be good for my line of work. I took Spanish and French in high school and just fell in love with learning. What interested me the most was comparing similarities to the way they are spoken. Most of them aren't even remotely similar to our English, which I find fascinating." You explained.
Ghost was quiet for a moment before he let out a small huff of understanding. "Never though of that before." He paused for a moment, his eyes darting over your shoulder before continuing. "That looks like English."
You spun around to face the computer again and looked at the Transcript. "That's because it is. I'm listening to the audio tapes and reading the transcripts in two different places to try and catch their next meeting a little faster."
You glanced back over your shoulder at Ghost who was simply staring at you, an emotionless expression in his eyes. "What if I read the English one and you listen? We could get it done faster."
A smirk grew over your lips. "You're very eager to help this morning."
"I'm not used to not working." Ghost chuckled a little.
"Get to reading then, Lieutenant."
Ghost pushed himself off the bed and took the half a step it took to get over to the desk. He did something you didn't expect. He leaned down over your shoulder to read the screen, bracing his arms on the desk in the process. His smell wafted down into your nose. It was mostly earthy smells, like walking through a dense forest after a rain. Pine, maybe cedar, you couldn't tell, but it made your heart race. You had to put on both headphones now to try and focus on the audios rather than the large man now looming over you, boxing you into the desk.
His chest was so close that - if it weren't for the headphones - you were sure you'd hear his heartbeat. You were so preoccupied with the close proximity of the lieutenant that the Russian you were listening to turned to alphabet soup in your brain.
A hand brushed your shoulder, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. You realized it was Ghost's hand as he was looking down at you. You took off a headphone and waited for him to speak.
"Here. Read that." He pointed a gloved hand to the computer screen. Your attention drew to a chunk of text with a time stamp. You skimmed through the text to find out that their next meeting was tonight.
"Great catch, Ghost." You hummed a little, turning in your chair now to face him. He pulled back from where he was leaning on the table and was now standing in front of you. Your eyes traveled up to meet his dark ones.
You wished you hadn't had that conversation with Soap. Now, you couldn't stop thinking about what Ghost was thinking. What did he think about you? What was he thinking right now? It was so hard to tell with the cold gaze he always carried. Did he really trust you?
"Can I ask you something?" He finally broke you from your thoughts while sitting down on the bed.
You cleared your throat and adjusted your position in your chair. "Yeah, go for it."
You anticipated him asking again why you covered your face. It was a question that, without fail, you were always asked. Only one person in the task force knew the history behind it. The scars, the insecurities. It really wasn't a story to be ashamed of, you just hated the reminder of them.
"How'd you get your Call-sign?" He asked. Relief washed over you, you could answer this one.
"I would whistle songs to myself and one of the other recruits in my division caught it and would call me Bird. As time went on, that other recruit became my partner. We had created a series of whistles to communicate with each other which earned us the nicknames Sparrow and Finch. I was hoping for a cooler bird, like an eagle or a hawk, but I've grown to love it."
Behind the mask, you could see Ghost's eyes crinkle upwards in a smile. "Where is Finch now?"
A weight pushed down onto your heart. You had lost your partner, your best friend, that faithful day of your accident. The loss nearly tore you in two pieces when you found out. The two of you made it though basic all the way to graduation together. You were nearly inseparable from each other. Until the one day you two finally split off.
"He died." You finally responded with a sullen tone, looking down at the fingers in your lap. You tried not to think about it. It only happened a few years ago but it still felt fresh in your mind at times.
"How?" Ghost asked.
You inhaled a sharp breath. You wanted to tell him. Wanted to let the words tumble and finally tell somebody about what caused you so much hurt and pain. You thought back to the night he mentioned his mask. You always traveled back to that night, the words he said to you.
Because I can't look in the mirror without breaking down.
He had been so open and vulnerable. Why couldn't you do the same? If you never saw him again after this mission, even better. It would be the same as telling a stranger in a coffee shop.
But when you finally gathered up the courage to speak, the words caught in your throat. They wouldn't, couldn't escape. You stared into Ghosts expectant eyes and you couldn't speak. After what felt like an eternity you cleared your throat and stood from the chair. You couldn't have this conversation, not now. It was better to avoid it all together than to put that much trust in someone else.
"I have to go get some things ready for tonight." You said quietly as you quickly made your way out of your room, leaving Ghost alone on your bed.
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Planting the tracking devices on the cars was easy. For a Russian mob, you'd think they would guard their belongings better.
Unfortunately, an easy mission did not come with an easy nights rest. A horrific memory dressed as a nightmare haunted your mind.
Your team huddled against a wall, ready to face the enemy head on. You lifted your head above the wall to peak. Your partner, finch, right behind you. It wasn't often that either you got called into the field. You always loved the adrenaline rush every now and then.
Helicopters roared overhead as you tried to listen to your captains commands. There were three possible abandoned warehouses where our targets could be. The plan was to call an airstrike and then eliminate any remaining targets that tried to run.
A woman came sprinting towards the group, waving her hands to try and flag somebody down. She was frantically screaming help.
Finch's heart was too big for his own good. He immediately stood, holding his arms out to his comrades. "Civilian! Cease Fire!"
"Finch, get down!" You hissed, tugging at his tactical vest. He ignored your warning, moving around the blockades to approach the woman.
"Please, help! My baby, my child!" The woman's English was very broken, her accent thick. It was clear she didn't know a lot of English.
"Your child, where?" Finch asked, grabbing the woman's hand as she reached for him.
"That building. Please, find her."
"Corporal that building is coming down!" Our Captain warned.
"How long?" Finch asked, determination coating his features.
"The air strike is inbound!"
"How long?" Finch demanded with determination.
"3 minutes."
Finch turned on heel and sprinted for the building. Your heart nearly leapt from your throat. You stood up to follow him but your captain grabbed you by the collar and threw you back onto the ground.
"Sit your ass back down, soldier! I'm not losing both of you."
You looked over the barricade frantically as Finch ran for the building. You let out a low three tone whistle that was code for 'use caution' but you really wanted to scream 'be careful, please come back'. Finch responded with a sharp whistle that meant '10-4'.
The minutes passed by with an eerie silence, a recruit calling out the time cards as they ticked on. "One minute till strike."
Finch was still in the building. You held out some hope that he was on his way out of the building. No gunfire was a good sign. The targets you were tracking must not be in that building.
"30 seconds."
Your heart dropped, worry clouding your features. You stared intensely at the door, praying that your red-haired companion emerged from the doorway.
"Momma!"
A young voice caught your attention as a little girl in a pink dress came running around the corner from an alleyway. The woman, who was crouching by our barricades, jumped up and exclaimed something in a different language. Your eyes darted back and fourth between the two for a second before you made your decision.
"Lieutenant L/n get back here!" Your captain screamed at you as you hurdled the barricades and sprinted for the girl. You reached her, scooping her up in your arms and sprinting back for the barricades.
"5 seconds!" The recruit with the countdown yelled.
In a last minute decision that probably saved your life, you threw yourself into the ground. Your body wrapped around the little girl to shield her from any debris.
The explosion came, sending shrapnel flying in every direction, ripping straight through your tactical gear and to your skin. The gashes stung as blood quickly poured onto the ground.
Next Part in Progress
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Tag List @msjaeger @mommy3a3ha @simpinginthecorner @sweetybuzz25 @nirvanaaaonly
53 notes · View notes
smaptain-smerica · 9 months
Text
Sparrow
Part 1 - Little Bird
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Pairing: Female!reader x Ghost x König
Summary: Sparrow partners up with soldiers Ghost and Soap on an intel gathering mission when the scars of her past get her into a dangerous situation. After being rescued by KorTac forces, she finds herself working along side them to ensure her freedom.
Maturity: depictions of violence and torture as well as harsh profanity will be written into this story. 16+ recommended
Masterlist
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Chapter 2
Sleep was fighting you. You lay in bed just tossing and turning trying to fall asleep. The image of Saad looking directly into your soul was burned into the back of your eyelids.
You decided that you needed to give your brain a break. You stood from your bed and headed for the door. Once you rounded the hallway corner, you noticed a familiar black head resting on the couch. You checked your watch, it was nearly one am. Why was he still sitting out here?
"Lieutenant?" You asked, making sure to hide your face and body around the wall. When no answer came you poked your head around the corner of the wall.
"Ghost?" You whispered again. No answer. You finally gathered the courage to walk around the corner and slowly towards the couch. You covered the lower part of your face with your hand just in case.
Ghost was sitting up on the couch, his head rolled forward and his breathing shallow. He had fallen asleep sitting up. You bent over at the waist to get a better look at his closed eyes behind the skull mask. A smile escaped your lips as you brought your hand down from your face.
After retrieving your water bottle from the fridge you made your way back into the living room. You watched the way he was sleeping. Something about a tall, dangerous man sleeping so still and quiet was so vulnerable.
Before you left to your room, you passed by his shoulder. Maybe it was maternal instinct that took over but you placed your hand gently on his shoulder. To make sure he was okay, alive, comfortable, you didn't know. But it was the wrong decision.
Ghost tensed violently beneath your hand and grabbed your arm. His second arm reaches up to grab your neck. He used his body weight to throw you over the back of the couch, slamming you down on the cushions.
Your eyes widened as you looked up into his cold, empty ones and you grabbed at his wrist around your throat. "Ghost." You rasped out with what little air you had left.
Ghosts eyes widened and he stumbled back to the other side of the couch. You took a gasping breath and rolled off the couch's end and fell onto all fours on the floor. You were coughing, trying to get the breath back into your lungs.
"Sparrow..." Ghost said quietly, shifting his weight towards you. You held your hand back to keep him away from where you were doubled over on the floor.
You covered the lower part of your face and quickly made your way back to your room. You heard Ghosts heavy steps and string of curses following you. You had gotten to your room first, closing the door behind you and locking it.
You looked in the mirror at yourself, faint red lines forming on your neck. Hopefully not enough to leave a bruise. The shock of it took your breath away more than his feral grip.
Two knocks came from the door. "Can I please come in?" His voice was quiet. Quieter than you had ever heard him talk before. He probably felt bad, really bad. It was your fault. You knew that he was a man with a troubling past. You should have just let him be.
He had seen your face. Your eyes couldn't be torn away from the mirror while looking at the white scars covering your right cheek. Had he even noticed? Had he noticed how repulsing it was?
"Little bird, please. I'm sorry." There it was, that nickname that could make you come undone. Did he usually do this to his other partners? With the nicknames? You were frozen in place, you didn't know what to do. You just stared at the scars on your face, hoping that he would eventually go away.
"Simon."
You looked at the door behind you in the mirror. Confusion clouded over you as you waited for him to say something else. When he didn't, you asked; "What?"
"My name."
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The guilt that he felt for what he did was tremendous. He wanted nothing more than to just make sure she was okay. Ghost didn't know why he told her his real name. Maybe it was a last stitch effort to win her trust. "Simon Riley."
There was silence from the other side of the door for a few seconds before Ghost heard soft footsteps and the twist of the doorknob. He brought his head up from resting on the door and looked down at the woman in front of him. She had put the mask on her face. He wished she hadn't put it back on.
"Can I come in?" He asked. To which Sparrow replied with a sigh and stepped aside for him to enter.
Ghost entered her room. It was quite a bit bigger than the one that he and soap shared. A full-length mirror sat in the far right corner. A queen sized bed on the left wall in the middle of the room. There was a desk just to the left of the door with quite a few folders, some stacks of empty paper, and some books. One being Arabic for Beginners.
Sparrow shut the door behind them and sighed. She looked up at him through her brow while leaning her back against the door. "Can I help you?"
Ghost hesitated for a moment, wanting to reach out to check on her but now too afraid to touch her. He didn't know what to do to say. What does one say to someone in this situation?
Sparrow rolled her eyes and pushed off the door. "Ghost I'm fine I promise."
"I need to." Was all he could blurt out. He needed to check on her, needed to make sure that she was okay. He needed to make sure he didn't hurt anybody who didn't deserve it. And she was the least deserving.
Understanding flashed in her eyes as she lifted her head to expose her neck. Ghost rushed to her side and gently took her chin in his hands, tilting it upwards. He saw the marks from his fingers forming in gentle red welts. A fist closed around his heart, guilt weighing it down.
"I see that look in your eyes. Don't." Sparrow warned, pulling away from him and scooting further down the bed.
"I'm sorry. It shouldn't have happened." Ghost blurted out.
"We've all had shit that's happened to us. Don't worry about it." Sparrow pushed off her bed. Ghost could tell she was pretending to look at something on her desk as an excuse to avoid eye contact.
Ghost stared at her back from his bed. He imagined where those scars on her back would be through her shirt. His eyes trailed up to the thick black strap that held her face mask on. He thought about what he had seen. His brief moment of conscious thoughts at that moment only allowed him to let go. It didn't give him enough time to process the myriad of marks on the woman's face before she turned away.
"Why do you hide your face." He asked, plain and simple.
"Why do you hide yours?" She snapped back with as much venom as a rattlesnake.
Ghost didn't know why he felt compelled to ask. He didn't know why he felt compelled to tell her his story. Ghost had a fantasy in his head that she would understand him. She would understand what he was feeling and why he hid. Just as she did. Maybe a part of him desperately needed that friendship. That mutual understanding. He could come to her on his lowest days and not have to say a word. Not have to fear looking weak. Maybe that could happen.
"Because I hate looking at the scars."
Sparrow's body stiffened. She turned her head slightly over her shoulder to look back at him.
"Because I can't look in the mirror without breaking down. I sleep with it on. It's easier to pretend it's my skin than face the reality of the monster underneath."
Sparrow now turned fully around to face Ghost. Her eyes told more emotions than the rest of her face ever could. He had struck a nerve deep down within her. His hope that she understood him got a little greater.
Ghost noticed her eyes shift from him to that mirror in the corner. Her eyes lingered there for a moment longer before returning to his gaze. We're those tears lining the bottom of her eyes?
Movement caught Ghost's attention and he looked down at her hand that was now extended out to him. "Y/n."
A smirk rose to Ghost's lips beneath his mask. He tenderly took off his glove from his hand and clasped hers. Despite the callouses and her strong grip, her hands were surprisingly delicate. "It's nice to me you, y/n."
"It's nice to meet you too, Simon."
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"So this is all you do?" Soap asked from where he was laid out in the back seat of the car.
"Yep." You responded flatly, your head propped up on your hand that was resting on the console. Even ghost from the passenger seat seemed bored, his head resting against the car window and a knife twirling between his fingers.
"All the time?" Soap asked again.
"Mhm." You hummed in response. You looked through your binoculars and into the house window. After gathering more intel from a second meeting with the terrorists, you followed the Russian men back to their house. Now, you were waiting for them to either leave again, or go to sleep so you could bug the house.
"And you've never thought of doing anything else?" Soap asked another question. He seemed to be just about as bored as the rest of us.
"Yes, I've thought about it, Soap." You snapped, reaching back to smack him on the leg. He gave you a crooked smirk and then sat up in his seat.
"A couple years ago I wanted to be a reconnaissance sniper. Unfortunately, I was too good at this, they wouldn't let me switch. It would be a 'waste of my talents.'"
"Price said that?" Ghost questioned.
"No, Shepherd. Before everything went to shit with you guys."
"Damn." Soap whistled.
"Why did you end up joining 141?" Ghost asked.
"Price knew how I felt about Shepherd and Graves, assholes who hated the idea of a capable woman. He approached me shortly after the death of Hassan and offered me a position."
"Where were you before?" Soap asked.
"United States Marine Corps."
"Movement." Ghost's voice alerted everyone else in the jeep. You brought your binoculars up to your eyes and looked through them. The men were getting up, packing up guns and other things and heading for the door.
"They're leaving." You said in a hushed voice, exiting the car and expertly closing the door. You crouched down low in the sand, hiding your body against the car.
"On your go, Sparrow." Ghosts voice was now in your ear as he activated the coms system. Your eyes stayed trained on the house, waiting for the perfect moment.
Men got into the cars and eventually started them up and left. You flipped on the thermal setting of your binoculars and scanned for any sign of warm bodies. There was nothing.
"Thermals cold. Push in."
With your bodies low to the ground, you quickly made the jog toward the house. With how tall Ghost was, you were surprised he was able to keep so close to the ground.
Once you reached the house you placed yourself flat against the wall near a window. You checked in the window once more in case the thermals missed something.
"How do we get in?" Soap asked.
"There's always a way." You responded, making your way around to check each and every window in the house. Every window seemed to be sealed and locked shut. Except for one.
You did a double take while passing the bathroom door. A tiny whistling sound came from the microscopic crack at the bottom. Someone had opened the window previously and forgotten to latch it back. "Bingo." You mused to yourself as you slowly slid the window open. It was too small for Ghost and Soap to get through.
When you had slithered your way inside the window, you turned toward the two of them standing outside. "I'll unlock the front door."
After you fished in your pocket for a bug, you pulled one out and placed it underneath the sink. The room was small enough that only one was required. You climbed down off the toilet and quietly made your way to the bathroom door, then to the hallway. Directly in front of you were some stairs leading up, to the left was the living room, and to the right was the kitchen.
After making sure the first floor was clear, you slid between crates and chairs and tables until you finally made it to the front door of the house. You unlocked it and took a step back. "Doors open." You whispered. Seconds later the two men appeared, quickly entering the room.
"First floor is clear. Soap go bug the kitchen and single bedroom on the east side of the house. Ghost clear the upstairs and bug every room. I'll take the west side. Remember to place them six feet apart." You instructed your team. It brought you back to training your recruits.
"Copy." Both your teammates said and then moved to their positions.
You were working on placing the nearly invisible devices in every possible nook and cranny of the living room. Some went under the couch and even slid down the spines of untouched books on the shelf. You looked around for more hiding places when Ghost's hushed voice echoed in your brain.
"Second floor, second door on left, there's someone sleeping."
You cursed to yourself before responding to Ghost. "Do not engage. I'm on my way."
You made your way to the stairs and slowly ascended. When you rounded the corner and looked to your left you saw Ghost crouched down and looking over his shoulder at you.
When you got to the door you looked into the crack and saw a man completely passed out. There were a few empty bottles littered around the bed. Hopefully, he was just too drunk to function.
It was only when you turned to give Ghost an order that you realized how close the two of you were. Your pants were brushing up against his and you could hear his breath leaving through the mask on his face. Your eyes met his chestnut brown ones, somehow black pools in the dim light.
"Cover me." Was all you were able to choke out.
With expert grace, you slid your body through the door and stuck to the side wall. You made your way silently towards a desk, planting one on the lip of the table. Then, another one on the back of a standing mirror. A third bug on the underside of the bed frame. And finally, the most risqué one on the bed side table right next to where the sleeping man lay.
Your steps were emitting zero sound on the hardwood floor as you approached the bedside table. You slowly lowered yourself to the ground, eyes not leaving the sleeping man. You placed a bug on the underside of the table before slowly straightening yourself back to a standing position.
Glittering caught your eye and you looked down at the bedside table. Probably pocket change for whatever rich mob member. But for you, that was about a weeks worth of food. With Feline like stealth you picked up each of the coins and pocketed them. The poor sucker wouldn't even notice, let alone remember in the morning.
Ghost waited for you in the crack of the door, his gun drawn in case the man woke up. You reached him and then you both turned and headed back down the hall. "Nice job Lieutenant." Ghost muttered quietly.
"Thanks. We should have the whole house bugged now." You responded with equal quiet. "Soap, how copy?" You asked.
"All good down here." He responded.
You and Ghost descended the steps to meet Soap at the bottom of the hall. You directed them to the front door and let them out, locking it behind them. Once the door was locked you made your way back to the bathroom to climb back out the window.
With arms stretched out, Ghost was already there to help. He grabbed you by your hips to help gently set you down on the sandy ground outside. You slid the window closed, making sure to leave it nearly identical to how it was before. Then, the three of you ran back to the Jeep to return to the safe house.
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It had been at least an hour after their mission back at the safe house. You were sitting on one end of the couch, your feet curled up underneath you with a book in your lap. You had on a long sleeve shirt and a pair of sweatpants. You slowly sipped on a beer while your eyes lazily skimmed the pages.
A weight at the other end of the couch grabbed your attention. It was Ghost. He had put on his own pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt that hugged his arms and chest muscles in all the right places. On his head, he still adorned the mask.
"I don't think I've ever see you look so casual." You hummed as a joke to start a conversation.
Ghosts chuckle was deep and reverberated off his chest. "I'm not used to it either. I haven't been on many deployments where I've gotten the chance to relax."
"Welcome to the world of gathering intel. Nothing more than a game of Hurry up and wait." You responded, looking up at him from your book. His eyes met yours. His chestnut brown, nearly hazel eyes that, if you could, you'd drown yourself in.
"What are you reading?" Ghost asked. You lifted the book and showed him the cover. "A murder mystery novel. The first page really grabbed me and I haven't been able to put it down."
"Read it to me." Ghost said, more as a demand than a request, and gestured to the book. You raised your eyebrow at him questioningly before flipping to the front page of the book and beginning to read the first page. When you had finished you looked up at him through your brow.
Ghost's head was resting on a propped-up elbow on the opposite arm of the couch, his eyes trained intently on you. "Keep going." He grumbled.
You huffed out a laugh in disbelief and continued to read. You had finished the chapter a couple of pages later when you lifted your gaze to Ghost on the other end of the couch. His eyes were closed.
"Simon?" You whispered.
"Hm?" He grunted groggily in response. You shook your head gently at the ridiculousness of the situation. You kept on reading the book aloud until you heard a soft snoring coming from his nose.
Remembering what happened last night, you got up from the couch as quietly as possible. You grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and gently tossed it over Ghost's lap. You then turned off the living room lamp and found your way back to your room for sleep.
Next Part
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Taglist @msjaeger @mommy3a3ha @simpinginthecorner @sweetybuzz25
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smaptain-smerica · 9 months
Text
Sparrow - MASTERLIST
PART I - Little Bird
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
PART II - Spatz
PART III - Free Bird
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smaptain-smerica · 9 months
Text
Sparrow
Part I - Little Bird
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Pairing: Female!reader x Ghost x König
Summary: Sparrow partners up with soldiers Ghost and Soap on an intel gathering mission when the scars of her past get her into a dangerous situation. After being rescued by KorTac forces, she finds herself working along side them to ensure her freedom.
Maturity: depictions of violence and torture as well as harsh profanity will be written into this story. 16+ recommended
Masterlist
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Chapter 1
"Fucking run!"
Ghost hurdled over a large piece of rubble on the ground with ease.
"This is what happens when they let you make the plan! Fucking bastard!" Ghost growled angrily as him and his friend ran frantically through a ruined town, a rain of gunfire and shouts in a different language trailing them. Soap looked over at Ghost, a wicked smile on his mischievous mug.
Ghost and Soap had been sent on a mission together to gather intel on a suspected threat, and for some reason, Soap was chosen to run point on. That was Price's first mistake.
As the two males thudded across the sands, dodging fire left and right, Ghost thought about their escape plan. Their vehicle had been commandeered so they would just have to keep running until they lost them. In full tactical gear in the afternoon sun on the hot sands of Saudi Arabia, that would be difficult.
Movement caught Ghost's attention as a large Jeep was ripping across the sands and suddenly coming to a stop directly in their path. Ghost was about to make an abrupt turn and run the other way from the mysterious vehicle when he saw a masked woman reach over and opened the passenger-side door.
"Get in! Hurry!" She yelled. He wouldn't have trusted it had she not adorned the SAS symbol beneath the flag of her country of origin on her chest.
Soap reached the passenger side door and jumped in, closing the door behind him. Ghost grabbed onto the hood of the car and lifted himself up and through the open backseat window. Before his feet had even left the ground the woman had already started driving.
Ghost widened his eyes as he beheld the woman behind the wheel. Her hair was tied back in a braid and a thick buckled strap wrapped around her hair was attached to the mask covering the lower part of her face. It looked like a surgical mask except it was black and made of a reinforced material that seemed to be form-fitted to her face. Surrounding her e/c eyes was old black face paint mixed with some patches of dirt. Finally, a small scar ran from the middle of her right eyebrow, over her eye, then disappeared behind the mask.
With expert execution, she ripped the sunroof open and turned her body around to address Soap. "Grab that gun and start shooting."
Without wasting a second, soap heaved the gun that was at Ghost's feet on the floorboards and brought it up to his lap. He stood out the sunroof, the gun hitting the roof of the car before Soap rained hellfire upon them.
Ghost turned around and looked out the back window, seeing rows of men falling victim to Soap's deadly accuracy. The only thing standing between them and freedom now was a rocky maze. The Jeep didn't even slow as they came barreling toward the start of the rocky pathway. The only warning they got from the mystery woman was; "Hang on!"
This must have been a path she had navigated before because she was taking the sharp turns and curves like she had done them one hundred times. Mountains of fallen and weathered rocks were piled around the car as they snaked their way through.
A curse fell from the woman's mouth as she saw what we were quickly approaching. A very narrow passageway adorned with freshly fallen boulders. She hesitated only for a moment before grabbing Soap by his tactical belt and yanking him back into the car. "Get ready to flee the car if this doesn't work." She warned us.
"If what doesn't work?" Ghost demanded, tightening his grip on the 'oh-shit-handle' in the back seat.
Reaching down towards the gear handle she quickly flipped the Jeep from 4-wheel drive to 2-wheel drive without slowing down for a second. That definitely was not good for the vehicle.
Enemies in vehicles of their own were quickly approaching us. A few stray gunshots littered the nearly impenetrable barrier of the vehicle. The woman was not slowing down, not even a little.
Not even when she whipped the car hard to the left, then equally as hard back to the right causing the car to go up on the two passenger side wheels. Just in time for the narrow entrance.
Ghost was glad he had been hanging on, otherwise, he would have been thrown out of the window. The sound of the metal scraping on the roof of the car made his teeth hurt but he soon heard the revving of the engine and the car started to move. They were driving nearly sideways on the wall. Thank god for the Jeep's suspension on the tires. After a few more feet of driving they broke through the other side of the narrow rocky passage, the Jeep falling onto its four tires with a painful bounce.
The Jeep was off again, ripping across the sandy dunes and leaving the shouting men behind them. The woman looked over her shoulder out the back window at the slowly shrinking scene they left behind. Ghost could see it in her eyes as she smiled wildly. Astonished was an understatement for how he was feeling.
"You're fucking insane!" Soap exclaimed, sounding more like a compliment than a complaint.
"It's nice to meet you too, Sergeant MacTavish." The woman hummed with a chuckle laced in her vocal cords.
"You can call me Soap, lass."
The woman nodded her head gently. "I'm First Lieutenant L/n, you can call me Sparrow."
"Ah, my pal Ghost here is a Lieutenant too." Sparrow's attention shifted to where Ghost sat in the back seat. Her eyes met his and he couldn't quite tell what emotions were hiding behind them. She watched him, expectant of an answer. He had none to give her, soap said it all already.
"The fuck is his problem?" Sparrow asked Soap, pointing a thumb back at Ghost as if he weren't even there. Soap laughed and waved a dismissive hand at her.
"He's just shy, he'll come around. Probably."
Ghost rolled his eyes at his partner and then directed his attention outside at the sand dunes. He hadn't even realized that they had made it to a packed dirt road and were now headed west.
"When Price sent me to come get you two, I didn't realize that I would be the getaway car." Sparrow hummed in amusement, meeting Ghost's gaze briefly in the rearview mirror before he looked away.
"Am I sure glad you did?" Soap chuckled, shuffling around in his seat to get comfortable. "Where'd you learn to drive like that?"
Sparrow looked over at Soap as she talked. "My dad was a Formula 1 driver. I was driving a car way before it was legal."
"Really?" Soap asked.
"Oh yeah. He loved it. It gave him and his family a chance to travel the world. I went to every single race." Sparrow explained. A hint of longing was hidden in her tone of voice that Ghost picked up on. He had noticed her use of past tense, it was only safe to assume.
"How'd he die?" Ghost asked.
Soap whipped his head around and gave Ghost a look that said 'Why the fuck would you say that?' Sparrow looked back at him through the rearview mirror.
"Doing what he loved. 3 car crash and only one survived. The doctor said he went quickly and painlessly."
"I'm sorry, Lass."
"We've all got shit that happened to us." She responded.
"Where are you taking us?" Ghost asked.
"Rendezvous point. It's my safe house where I'm currently stationed. Turns out our missions have more in common than we thought. You two better get comfortable, we will be driving into the night."
Ghost eyed the woman suspiciously. He didn't know whether he fully trusted her or not. After everything that had happened with Graves, he wasn't entirely fond of new people. Why had he never seen her before? Was she just a newer addition? What was she doing before this? Those questions would remain unanswered as he sat silently in the back seat, observing the woman carefully as she and Soap made light conversation for the duration of the drive.
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Night had fallen by the time the three soldiers had arrived in a small, quiet town. Sparrow pulled the jeep into a makeshift, tarp-covered overhang next to a small house. Ghost looked down at his watch, it was just past 11:30 pm. The three of them walked in through the backdoor that Sparrow locked behind them.
A three-person couch was in the middle of the room with one armchair to the right. The coffee table was hardly standing on three of its legs. For how dusty and sandy the outside of the house and surrounding areas were, the sitting area was surprisingly clean.
Sparrow threw her backpack on the armchair and strolled through a doorway that looked like a kitchen. She came back through the door shortly with three beers in her hand. "They're not very cold. The fridge doesn't work very well."
Soap eagerly grabbed the bottle and popped the cap off. Ghost took the bottle more tenderly. "If you're hungry there's some canned soups in the cabinet. You can heat it up if you start a fire under the stove." Sparrow explained as she took a swig of the beer herself.
"You can take a shower if you want but there's no hot water. Don't drink the tap water, it's disgusting. I have some boiled water in water bottles in the fridge." Sparrow walked towards a hallway with two doors on the right and one door on the left.
"Over here is where you'll sleep. If you two are going to have sex keep it down, we share a wall." Soap nearly spit out his drink at the comment. Ghost chuckled, starting to like the woman a little more now.
"Bathroom is over here. If you need me, knock first. Other than that we will go over the folder in the morning." Sparrow saluted to them before slipping into her bedroom door.
Ghost looked over at Soap whose eyes were trailing where Sparrow had disappeared into her door. Soap's attention turned back towards Ghost with a wicked smirk on his face. "I like her."
Soap opened the door to their bedroom. There were two neatly made beds on either side of the wall. Soap was already taking off his shoes and undressing on the bed on the left. Ghost wasn't sleeping. He wouldn't fall asleep for a few hours at least.
Without another word, he walked out of the door and took a few steps toward the entrance to Sparrow's room. The door was open a crack and she didn't have her shirt on, her back to the door. Ghost knew he shouldn't have looked, it was disrespectful. He should have turned away immediately but the large, nasty scars across her back captured his attention. He stared through the door, wondering, how something like that could have happened. Did it also have something to do with the scar on her eyebrow?
Ghost quickly stepped away from the crack in the doorway and knocked twice on her door. "Hold on."
Sparrow returned to the door a few seconds later wearing a loose, long sleeve shirt and the black mask adorning the bottom of her face. She looked up at Ghost and cocked an eyebrow. "Everything okay? I promise the sheets are clean."
"No, it's not that." Ghost reassured her.
"Can I see the mission brief for tomorrow?"
Sparrow nodded. "Not ready to sleep?" She asked, leading them to the living room where she shuffled through her backpack.
"No."
Sparrow hummed in response as she pulled out a Manila folder, blowing some of the dust off it before handing it to him. "I get that."
Ghost grabbed the folder, looking into her eyes. He wore a mask. Always. At all times. He had just never been on the receiving end of the effect it had on some people. Ghost wanted to take her face in his hands and see what she was hiding. He wondered if the scars on her back were connected to why she hid her face. How similar were they in that sense?
"Lieutenant!" Ghost finally snapped out of his trance and looked around at what would be the woman's features.
"I don't have time to stand here all night and let you admire me." Ghost felt his face heat up, thankful that the mask was covering it.
Sparrow smiled with her eyes as Ghost took the papers from her. "Try to get some sleep tonight, yeah?" Sparrow patted his shoulder causing him to tense and go rigid underneath the touch. He simply nodded his head and watched her walk around the corner of the hallway.
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You had been stationed here for a few months now on stealth missions to gather intel on a suspected terrorist threat. The town where you were stationed was in ruin. The water lines and plumbing were shit, most of the food was stale and full of preservatives. The buildings had zero AC and hardly enough electricity to power the street lights. Most of the time, the town felt very glum.
But every Sunday, the town sprung to life. All the citizens got together all their hard-earned money and created. Jewelry, candles, soaps, spices, baked goods and fresh fruits. All the children played kickball in the fields. Then when the adults had drunk their supply of beer, the adults joined in on the fun. By the end of the day everyone is singing under the setting sun.
Today was Sunday. You were talking around the market in a jilbab, a head scarf wrapped around your head to cover your hair and the lower part of your face. You were self conscious about the large, ugly scar on the lower half of your face. You didn't want to scare any of the locals with the ugliness of your troubled past.
Being around for so long you had picked up on some Arabic. Enough to communicate with the vendors anyway. They knew more English than you did Arabic so you felt it was only fair that you tried to learn.
You had managed to score a few goodies for yourself and the boys for breakfast. Cost you extra to buy extra food but you didn't mind doing it.
You entered the house through the front door and saw both the large men sitting on the couch, the papers from the mission reports spread out on the table. "You two are lucky! I scored some good stuff for breakfast."
You dug around in your basket and threw an orange to each one of them. They both caught them and looked at them questioningly. "And!" You added, setting the basket down on the arm of the chair.
"Amira owed me a favor, so I got these." You set down two muffins on the table and looked at the two men with an eager smile under the scarf.
Soap met your gaze and smiled widely. "Thanks, lass."
"How long have you been here?" Ghost asked, his raspy and deep voice racking chills up your spine just like it had the first time you heard it. You looked into his eyes, the dark and mysterious eyes that the black paint surrounding them only added to it.
"A few months." You responded while taking a muffin for yourself from your basket. You brought it up to your mouth under your scarf to still conceal most of your identity.
Soap had already finished off the muffin and began to move on to the orange. Ghost looked down at his muffin and then over at Soap's orange. Ghost grabbed the citrus out of Soap's hands and replaced it with his muffin he didn't eat. You chuckled a little at the behavior.
"So, tell us what the game plan is." Ghost leaned back in the chair, shifting his hips upward to get into a more comfortable position. He removed a glove from his hands and began peeling one of the oranges.
You noticed the scars on his hand as you watched him peel back the layers of the fruit. The way his large hips moved as he readjusted. You had to push down the inappropriate thoughts before they bubbled to your brain.
"Basically, what I've been doing is gathering intel on a possible terrorist threat to the nations. That town you two were in that you so graciously sent into a guns-of-glory spiral was my main operating place. Lucky for you two, the man I've been tracking, Saad Faizan, is meeting with some of his business partners. You'll assist me with gathering the intel that I've been working on getting for months. Then, when Saad's business partner leaves you'll track their location and get in contact with Price from there."
Both of the men looked at you with their heads tilted as you half-assed the explanation of the mission. "So that's it?"
You shrugged your shoulders. "That's it. There's no guarantee how long the men will be here for. It could be today, it could be weeks. Your only job is to make sure I don't die, and follow them when they leave."
"Copy." Was all Ghost said with a nod.
You stood up and made your way over to a trunk by a small window, popping it open. The inside was covered in all kinds of weapons and ammunition. You began to grab your preferred weapons from the crate.
"Take whatever you want, I'm going to go get ready then we will roll out." You walked to your room, making sure to shut the door and lock it before taking off your headscarf.
Looking in the mirror was a difficult task, one you forced yourself to do every day to come to terms with the marring that you now adorned. Two years of forcing yourself to look at it and you still hadn't gotten used to it. Your fingers gently touched the white, rugged skin across your right cheek. A weight pressed down on your chest as you reached for the mask you adorned every day. You put the mask on and buckled the strap in the back firmly. The headscarf returned to your face to maintain a casual appearance for gathering information. The scars made your face too recognizable without it. You weren't sure why they kept you on intel missions. After the accident you pushed for moving to being a Sniper. It would be easier than having to conceal the ugly every day. But they said they couldn't lose you, you were a valuable asset.
When you returned to the living room you saw both the men had finished gathering their desired weapons from the trunk and they both looked at you expectantly.
"Let's roll!"
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Ghost and Soap stayed in the truck on the outskirts of the city while you made your way through the town to the restaurant that they were supposed to be meeting at. Your eyes scanned the area for any suspicious threats as you continued walking. Not that anybody could tell you were military, just a cautious habit of being a woman.
"Little bird, how copy?" Ghost's voice rang in your ear.
"Two shakes of a tail feather from location." Your quick wits responded before you could even think about it. You couldn't decide if the silly little nickname pissed you off or gave you butterflies. You heard a hum of a chuckle at the other end of the comms after your response.
You opened the door to the restaurant, immediately spotting the man you had been tracking for months. Dark colored hair, almond shaped eyes, fuller lips and a Roman nose. Next to him sat a smaller man that looked nervous beyond belief. You pulled a small bugging device from your pants pocket under the jilbab.
Picking up a brisk pace, you walked near his table, reaching under the table and placing the bug. You hurried over to the opposite side of the restaurant and took a seat. "Bug is in place. Tap me in." You said in your com to the boys.
Some static noise filled your ear before you heard the Arabic man talking. The waiter came over to you with a smile, asking you what you would like. You responded 'water' back to him in Arabic before he hurried away. "You know Arabic?" Soap asked.
"A little. What I could pick up in the span of a couple months." You responded. Suddenly a very tall, dressed to the nines, blonde man walked in. Followed by a smaller, equally as well dressed brunette.
They both sat down at the table with Saad and the smaller man introduced himself in another language to Saad's partner. The two business men were primarily talking to their partners that they brought, then the partners would talk to each other and then their bosses. That's when you realized that they were translators.
"What language is that, German?" Soap asked.
"No, Russian." You responded quietly as you tried to listen to the choppy conversation between the translators. "Something about moving drugs and guns."
"How many languages do you know, little bird?" Ghost asked, another shockwave running up your spine and sending butterflies to your stomach.
"Russian, German, French, Italian, Spanish. English, obviously. I'm not fluent in any of them but I know enough to get by." You explained.
"Color me impressed." Ghost hummed in your ear.
"You've got enough black face paint as is. I don't think you need any more colors." Your wits responded, earning a laugh from soap in the background of Ghosts com.
You were smiling to yourself under the mask when you heard a familiar word. Баба́й. Babai.
"The boogieman..." you whispered, suddenly coming to a chilling realization. "I think this is the Russian Mafia."
Silence rang from the other end of the boys comms before Soap spoke up. "What do we do?"
"Wait. We will send the audio back to base to be translated." You explained while bringing out a small notepad and tried to write down as many words of the Russian man that you could understand. Most of it was illegal trade of guns, drugs, typical mafia stuff. Until an unknown word caught your attention. "раб." You breathed.
You listened to the next few words in Russian to try and get some context. He was talking about men, sending men and women to Saad and vise versa. "I think they're trading people."
"Armies?" Ghost asked.
"The Russian mob doesn't have an army." You whispered back into the com.
"Slaves?"
A worried breath escaped your lips as a weight pressed down on you. You hoped with every fiber of your being that wasn't true. But for some reason it made the most sense.
About an hour had passed of you sitting in that restaurant and just listening to the conversation. You tried to write down as much as you could understand of the two languages but was grateful that the audio got translated by the professionals.
The Russian man and his partner stood from their seat and headed for the door. That only left Saad and his partner sitting there. They made conversation for a little before both of them stood up to leave. Saad had his partner turn ahead of them to leave. But Saad didn't leave. He rotated and looked over his shoulder, directly into your eyes. Your heart stopped and chills ran their way from your scalp and down your back.
Saad held your gaze for a few more seconds before facing back forward, and leaving through the door.
Next Chapter
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smaptain-smerica · 11 months
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Female Reader x Rooster
Time: Post-Top gun: Maverick
Y/n Blackwood - L/n, daughter of Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood. Y/n took a strong interest in planes from a young age. Knowing her father was an esteemed pilot drew her even further into the navy. Quickly, she became one of the best solo pilots and graduating at the top of her class at Top Gun.
Her next mission? Return to Top Gun, Face certain death, romantic interests, and finally, her thought-to-be-dead, father.
This book contains strong language and sexual content that may be sensitive readers under the age of 18
This story was originally posted on Wattpad, follow me on there for faster updates. I have published a non-binary version of this story published there for those who do not identify as female or use she/her pronouns. It will follow the exact same story line. Link to Wattpad Account Link to the Non-Binary version
Master list
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Our House
I stood near the doorway as Bradley and Jake stalked confidently into the depths of the bar. This was one of the only times I had seen them get along, seen them willing to work together.
My heart raced with anger and anxiety. I didn't want to have to face my student again, I was angry he thought he could get away with it but being in his presence still brought back that small amount of fear that I felt.
I circled the bar in order to get close enough to hear what the two men were saying. Bradley had hung back to talk to Penny. I assumed he was telling her what happened by the way she glared at my former student.
On the other hand, Jake had made himself comfortable behind the bar, strolling in like he owned the place. His arms collided with the table causing the whole bar top to shake. I watched as Ghost lifted his head to look into the eyes of his teacher.
"Hey there Ghost." Jake said casually as he gripped ghosts beer glass in his hand, sliding it over to himself and taking a drink from it. Ghosts face turned sour with disgust and distaste.
"Lieutenant Commander." Ghost grumbled.
Somehow Jake seemed to lean further into the table, a smirk growing on his face. "Oh man," Jake sucked his teeth. "That sure is a nice shiner you got there. What happened?"
Ghost had seemed to make the connection as to why Jake was choosing to pick on him. He straightened in his seat and squared off his shoulders, glaring daggers into Jakes eyes.
"None of your fucking business." Ghost growled.
Jakes eyebrows widened upward. "Woah! That's no way to talk to your commander." Jake paused, slinking closer to to Ghost over the bar top. "Of course, that's if you were still part of the program. From what I hear, sounds like you're not anymore."
Ghost shot up, the bar stool from underneath him scooting dramatically across the hardwood. Jake straightened his shoulders back and narrowed his gaze. I had never seen Jake look so angry, so intimidating.
Ghost clenched his fists, looking like he was about to connect with Jakes jaw when he suddenly calmed, stretching his fingers back out. "Come on, Jake." Ghosts voice lightened, as though he was trying to convince a friend to make a decision. "I've seen how she is around you. Hell, I thought she was dating to you because of it. She plays around with guys like us' feelings. How was I supposed to know any different?"
I felt my heart tug downward hearing those words. For some reason, I considered whether or not I had done that to Jake, given our conversation we had in the last few weeks. I did have love for Jake but not in that way.
"You we're supposed to know different because your parents should have taught you better." Bradley's voice was now added to the mix. He stood behind Ghost with his arms cross and eyes narrowed. They were nearly the same height, but Bradley had a lot more bulky muscle than Ghost did, making him look bigger than the other male.
"Don't say shit about my family." Ghost growled while trying to size up to Bradley. Ultimately, he failed because Bradley uncrossed his arms and squared away his shoulders. "But you get to say shit about mine?" Bradley nearly growled, I could see the anger growing in him.
Ghost finally looked Bradley up and down, a huff of realization escaping his lips. "So you're the boyfriend, huh?"
"Yeah, I'm the boyfriend."
I smiled a little to myself. I had never heard us use labels before. Truthfully at this age it wasn't as important to me but hearing him say those words made my heart lift. Watching him defend and protect me made me feel safe, seen, and special.
Jake had joined Bradley's side now, that signature Seresin smirk plastered across his face. "You know," he interrupted. "You've managed to disrespect a lady in the last 5 minutes, and the Navy in the last 5 hours." Jake smirked at the confusion on the younger males face then looked behind them towards the bar.
"Do it Penny." Penny was behind the bar, hand on the rope of the bell with a smirk on her face. She swung her arm back and forward, giving it a good and loud ring, which made the bar erupt in cheers.
"What's that, what does that mean?" Ghost asked. "It means you buy a round of drinks for everyone in the bar." Bradley said cooly.
"And we get to kick you out now." Jake countered Bradley's calmness with venom coming from his tone of voice.
I watched them lift ghost up off the ground. My former student thrashed about to try and break loose but ultimately gave up before he was thrown out onto the sand. "Good riddance, dickhead!" Jake shouted before entering back into the bar.
"Don't come back!" Bradley added before turning on heel back into the bar. The room cheered as they made their way back over to me. The crowd at the bar had no idea the context behind it, they just enjoyed seeing someone get kicked out, but it was nice to hear the cheering. Whether it was for me or not.
I hugged Bradley first. A tight and grateful hug that hopefully expressed the appreciation I was feeling towards him. "Thank you." I whispered in his ear. He responded by giving me a tight squeeze.
"Of course, sweetheart."
When I separated from my hug from Bradley, Jakes hands clasped my shoulders and he gave them a gentle squeeze. "We've got your back, Wolf."
I smiled at Jake gratefully and gave his hand that was resting on my shoulder a pat.
"Come on, let's get drunk." Bradley encouraged me, pushing me towards the bar for a night of drinking and karaoke.
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To tell the truth, I had significantly more to drink than Bradley had. His arm was looped around me and supporting my weight. Was it a bluff so he could half carry me into the house? Partially.
He shut and locked the front door behind us, hardly having time to turn around before I had pulled him into a loving kiss. I missed him so much while he was gone, it was almost scary.
Our kissing walked us into the bedroom where I was pushed down onto the soft mattress and he slowly crawled on top of me. The kissing was soft and sweet, the slight tang of beer lingered on his lips.
"I was thinking," Bradley mumbled in between kisses.
"That's dangerous." I quipped back.
"Hey now," Bradley warned as he propped up on his elbows to look down at me. He brushed strands of my hair away from me face and smiled as he did so.  The world around me started to spin with every slow blink that I took. I was going to regret the hangover tomorrow.
"Why don't we go look at a couple houses tomorrow?" Bradley suggested.
"But I already live here!" My drunken mind protested.
"This is my house, sweetheart. I thought you wanted your own house." Bradley chuckled gently as he kept stroking my head.
"Why can't it be our house?" This was a thought I was considering for a while now. Truthfully I thought I would hate living with another person. And at first I did, but that time I spent away from Bradley made me realize that with him, it's better. Every day will always be better with him.
"You want to live with me?" He asked quietly, almost astonished I was asking.
"What have I been doing here? I tried to offer you rent but you refused!" I shouted playfully, which caused us to Break out into laughter.
When our eyes met after, I saw my entire future. Waking up and going to sleep looking at those brown eyes with flecks of green. I sometimes wondered if our kid would have those eyes. I don't know if it was the liquid courage or my own that led me to what I said next.
"I think I want to marry you."
Bradley just sat there completely still, not saying anything. I felt my heart begin to beat with anxiety. Was that the wrong thing to say? Did he not think the same?
But then he smiled. A slow, crawling smile that turned into a wide and bright one. "Really?" He asked in a voice that was hardly a whisper.
I nodded as an answer. Bradley's hands traveled to each side of my face, the look of joy never leaving his face as his eyes moved over every inch of my face. "I've known from the moment I met you I wanted to marry you."
My emotions got the better of me as I brought my head up to kiss Bradley. His hands held my head as he reciprocated the kiss with just as much passion. The kissing went on for only a few more moments before he pulled away and looked back down at me.
"I love you." He said.
"I love you too." I responded with as much eagerness and enthusiasm as him.
"Come on let's get to bed." Bradley patted the comforter before propping himself up on his arms. I quickly grabbed the collar of his shirt and brought his body back down on top of mine.
"Can we do something else first?" I asked, a mischievous smirk on my face.
A smirk of his own crept across his face, shifting his mustache. He sat up above me and practically tore off his shirt.
"Alright, sex, then bed."
Next Chapter in Progress
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smaptain-smerica · 11 months
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Please use read more!!!!
It’s impossible to scroll through the Bucky tag with a 10k fic clogging it up. It’s common courtesy to use read more for anything more than 500
That’s how people end up getting blocked on this website.
So please use read more
I wanted to share this in case others were in the same boat as me.
I am very new to tumblr and the workings of. I assumed that tumblr automatically shortened the posts down in the feed. I had no idea I had to use a command and do it manually!
Thank you for bringing this to my attention! 💜
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smaptain-smerica · 11 months
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Spare me your Time
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Summary: After a rough start to life, Y/n accepts her dream job continuing her father's research. Someone from the past comes back into her life, and she hesitates to establish a connection. He spared her life, will she spare him some of her time in return? Word Count:9.4K Warnings: Death of father, cursing, Forceful obedience, insomnia, the reader has the serum
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You usually worked late. All your required assignments were completed in record time, earning you a high standing among the other scientists and engineers. Granted, not everybody knew that you were the boss's daughter. 
The company that your father and his brother had started always remained a secret to the world, even to you in some ways. What you could gather from short dinner table conversations was that they were collecting research on how medicines affect different kinds of people and attempting to create unique medicines based on physical and mental assessments. 
Growing up around this secret medicine world inspired you to want to become a biomedical engineer just like your father. You wanted to follow in his footsteps and revolutionize medicine and technology for the better. 
They would take volunteers to do the scans curate a medicine specifically for them. It would take into consideration their mental age, physical age, and physique to determine the best equations and medicines to help them. The end goal was to be able to take a simple scan of someone's body and output a pill designed perfectly for them in minutes. The only thing they managed to successfully create was personalized allergy medicine. For over a decade of work, it seemed like a small accomplishment, but your father always said it was only the foot in the door. 
What was happening under the company's surface was shady dealings by your uncle. One day when your father was out of town on a business trip, your uncle asked if you’d like to sit in the machine for a scan. Your father never let you before so of course you said yes. Your uncle discovered the unmatched potential you carried with you within your brain and body. He kept the scans a secret from your father, even you, and he began to scheme his way toward evil. 
Your uncle had heard about the Winter Soldier and the secret HYDRA program they were creating for it. He heard tales of horror from the scientists he regularly kept in touch with. Ultimately, he decided that he could create a serum ten times better than the one HYDRA had used. His serum would eliminate the need for brainwashing and mind-controlling commands. His version of the serum would subject the recipient to obedience. How someone would control them was still in the works, but he began working secretly on the serum, testing it on various rodents until he thought it was perfect. 
It was your 15th birthday, midnight on the dot when your uncle woke you from your sleep saying he had a surprise. Hoping it was a new car, you got up to follow him. He knocked you out cold and strapped you to a chair in a lab in the basement. He had injected you with his version of the serum, fire pumping through your veins and melting you from the inside out. In a groggy state, you watched your father burst into the room, frantically trying to find you. He was furious, more furious than you had ever seen him in your life. Unfortunately, your uncle was faster, shooting him square between the eyes with a concealed weapon, as though he was waiting for this moment. 
For a few months, your uncle has put you through a series of tests. Your speed, strength, and durability had increased, but not in the way he had hoped. There was only a 75% increase in physical attributes. Instead, it was your mind that had been maximized to its full potential. Suddenly you gained a photographic memory with the ability to memorize quickly. You could see or hear instructions for something once and instantly perfect it. He sat you in the library, forcing you to watch countless videos and read countless books. You had become fluent in 15 different languages in only 6 months and knew every Jiu-Jitsu move there was and more. Though you might not have been as strong as the Super Soldiers, your uncle had hopes you could outsmart them.
So, from 16 and on you earned the highest education possible. Graduating high school at 17, college at 20, and finally, a master's degree in biomedical engineering at 23. You were halfway through earning your Ph.D. when someone walked into your life that changed it forever. 
The serums effects weren’t 100%, but you were only the first test subject. There was some free will in the sense that you could go and do whatever you want, but unless someone told you otherwise, it was in your nature to listen. Stay here, never leave, work on this project, go get me this, when you were younger you didn’t even realize this was happening. People just told you that you were helpful and kind-hearted. Your uncle knew though, and used it to his advantage. 
One of your favorite songs played ever so softly next to you from a small speaker while you worked in the lab. The only light was a desk lamp over your workstation. It was in the early hours of the morning, so you had to be quiet to not bring suspicions to your project. You sang gently to yourself as you squeezed a drop of blood onto a microscope sheet and then put your work-in-progress anti-serum serum over the top of it. You brought your eyes to the scope, examining what was happening within the red and white blood cells. 
The sound was hardly noticeable but still caused you to freeze up. Slowly, you straighten your posture and turn around. Your hand shut off the music as you listened intensely, but only the sound of your heartbeat was in your ears. 
Finally, a dark figure appeared in the small ring of light around you. Your eyes widened and you took a step backward in fear, knocking over the stool in the process. In front of you stood a tall man with dark, long hair and a face covered by a mask. You wouldn’t have recognized him if it weren’t for the silver, metal arm that hung from his shoulder. 
Your uncle told you stories of him, you’ve read about him and yet, still didn’t think he was real. 
The winter soldier. 
“I know who you are.” You choked out, embarrassed by how small your voice sounded. He didn’t move, didn’t blink, you could have sworn you saw his head tilt ever so slightly. 
“Did you come here to kill my uncle?” Your voice hardly came out as a whisper. As terrified as you were for your own life then, you hoped he would say yes. 
The winter soldier nodded.
“Did you do it?” You asked. 
He nodded again. 
You felt relief flood over you. You were free. Your body let go of a weight that you didn’t know was attached to you as the confirmation settled in your mind. 
“Thank you.” You whispered, half to the mysterious assassin before you, and half to the universe. 
He raised a pointer finger and seemed to aim it directly behind you. You glanced back at your work and then back at him. 
“What am I doing?” You asked. 
He only responded with a nod. A man of few words, you thought. 
You sighed. Oddly enough, he was the inspiration behind it. He, you, and all the other people your careless uncle killed trying to create the “perfect” soldier.
“I’m trying to fix it. Fix us.” You responded grimly. 
Your attention is fixed now on his eyes. His blue and enticing eyes seemed to sparkle with some emotion that was hard to place as he looked at the table and then back at you. The winter soldier hesitated it seemed. Looking at your work, then you, down at his hand, then back up again. You were scared he was going to kill you for even being a witness. But he didn’t. He took a few steps backward, disappearing out of the light and into the dark before he swiftly left the lab. 
You let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The fear of coming close to death exited your body like an exorcism. Your legs wobbled as you caught yourself on the workbench. What were you going to do now? You were free. Free from your uncle's grasp, and the experiments, you could leave the house. Hell, you could move states. You turned around and looked at your work. Seeing that your current antidote failed, you sighed in defeat and gathered up your notebook. You would- no, needed- to finish this. But it could wait. Now, you were going to take everything you had and discover a new life for yourself. 
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If one thing hadn’t changed, it was that you still worked late into the night. By textbook definition, you were a night owl. It was hard to get to sleep and stay asleep with your mind constantly reeling with thoughts. You were just coming back from a run around the compound at 1:30 am. The Avengers compound was so peaceful at night. The gentle sounds of the water and the humming of crickets were your favorite. 
Water from the kitchen was the first place you wanted to go. When you opened the fridge you spotted a few Gatorades. You knew they were Clint’s, he had explicitly told you not to touch them. However, Clint was gone for the week, visiting his family. That was plenty of time to cover up your crimes.
You headed back to the lab, having thought of another formula to scribble down while on your run. To your surprise, the light to your lab was on. None other than your boss, Tony Stark, was flipping through one of your sketchbooks. It wasn’t a surprise to find him snooping through your drawings. You and he were collaborating on a prosthetic contraption for his friend Rhodes. It was odd to see him here this late, however. 
“Burning the midnight oil, Mr.Stark? Now you’re taking after me.” You teased while leaning in the doorway. 
Tony looked up at you and gave you a crooked grin. 
“No shit, Sherlock.” 
To you, it wasn’t just an expression. Your photographic memory stood out to Tony the first day you met. He called you Sherlock Holmes because of your ability to memorize and analyze every single detail of a picture while only seeing it for one second. The real reason Tony had hired you was because he was fascinated with you and your fathers' research. He agreed to fund your research in its entirety as long as he got to slap a stark label on it when it was finished. 
“I’m liking these designs, kid.” He pointed to the paper at one drawing in particular. 
“How quickly do you think you could whip up a prototype for this one?” 
You walked over to him and peered over his shoulder. You hummed in thought. 
“A carbon fiber prototype, a couple of days. But a functioning one I would need about 3 weeks if I halted my other projects.” 
Tony tapped his fingers against his chin and nodded. He hadn’t taken his eyes off your designs for the entirety of the conversation. 
“That’s great. Yeah, that’s perfect. Get a prototype of these put together for me would ya?” 
You brought your fingers to your forehead and saluted him. 
“You’re the boss.” 
Tony smiled at you, placing a hand on your shoulder before heading for the door. 
“Tony!” You called after him which caused him to halt and face you. 
“Why did you actually come down here?” You asked. You could sense it, there was something that he wanted to say but either changed his mind or couldn’t gather the courage. 
“Your uncle worked with super soldiers, right?” He asked. You were shocked by the unexpected question and suddenly nervous. Nobody on the team knew you had some variant of the serum coursing through you. It was part of the reason you worked out at night when everyone was asleep. So nobody could see the obvious above-average strength that you carried 
“He was fascinated by them, yes.” You finally replied. “He tried many times to recreate the serum but failed.” 
“Are you trying to recreate it?” 
Your heart nearly stopped beating and your face went ghostly white at the question. Tony pulled out one of your older notebooks from behind his back. It was the one you used for antidote equations. 
“Please give that back.” You asked quietly. 
“I was looking for your research on the medicines, because I’m allowed to do that since I fund your whole project, and I came across that. I didn’t mean to, but now that I have I’m concerned.” 
“No, it’s not like that. I was…” you were scared to admit it. You were scared that the truth might slip up and come out. You weren’t ready for that to happen just yet. 
“I was trying to figure out how to reverse it.” You finally admitted, avoiding eye contact with Tony. 
Tony looked deep in thought at the book for a moment before tossing it back in your direction. You caught it with ease by the spine.
“You are one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.” 
That was his way of leaving the conversation. Your heart swelled with pride at the compliment as you looked at the book. Maybe it was time to start looking into this once again. 
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The next morning the compound was alive and buzzing with commotion. Unfortunately, because you were often late going to bed you were also late to rise. It was unusual for you to get out of bed before 10:00 am. It was a good thing your boss was generous.
You often worked with the Avengers in your lab. Over the short few years there developing your father's research you accidentally created an ointment that could heal any external superficial wounds. Punctures, scrapes, and lacerations, all of which happen to be occupational hazards for the enhanced superhumans. They were fully stocked with the ointment in the med bay but, for some reason, they liked to bother you more.
Natasha was drinking a coffee and reading a book at the island in the kitchen when you strolled in still in your pajamas, looking for what scraps were left of breakfast. 
“Good morning, y/n.” She spoke smoothly. 
“Morning.” You yawned, picking up a cold piece of bacon off the plate and began munching. 
“What’s with all the commotion?” 
Natasha set down her book and turned her attention fully towards you. 
“New recruit. A friend from Steve’s childhood.” 
“Steve’s childhood?” You asked, astonished. “Isn’t he, like, 100 years old?” 
Natasha hummed a chuckle. “Yes, he is. We’re having a meeting to discuss it, I’m sure Tony wouldn’t mind if you sat in.” 
“Oh, no,” you responded quickly to the offer. “I gotta get to work. I’m sure I’ll run into him at some point.” 
Natasha smiled and stood up as a way of saying goodbye. You smiled at her as well before taking your breakfast to go towards your lab. 
You rounded the corner and stopped in the doorway, noticing a young teenager standing in the lab. He must have heard you because he whipped around and looked at you wide-eyed and surprised. 
“Hi, um, I’m Peter. Mr. Stark told me to wait here for you.” 
You chuckled at the awkwardness of his stance and speech as you walked into the room. 
“Hi Peter, I’m y/n. I’ve heard about you, you’re the spider kid, right?” You asked, noticing that he had been flipping through the notebooks you left open on the table. 
“Yeah, um, spiderman, actually.” 
You smiled at him. Tony told you about a genius superhero kid he wanted to recruit. Tony called you kid, and being 26 you definitely weren’t. You just didn’t expect this recruit to actually be a kid. You did some research into him. Even gained access to his school transcripts. He was a wickedly smart kid, particularly in science. You were looking forward to meeting him. 
“When Tony discovered you, he asked me to look into how you get around. Your webs.” You remarked. 
Peter looked down at his wrists briefly before returning his gaze to you. 
“What about them?” 
You smirked a little. 
“Do you think we could play around with them?” 
About an hour and a half later you and Peter had created a mess of your lab. Webbing was hung in every corner. Different colored webbing strands caused your lab to look like an entire case of silly string had exploded. 
When Tony walked into the lab, you and Peter were hanging in bunk bed-styled web hammocks, Peter asking you questions about his chemistry homework while you scribbled down some notes on one of the high-tech tablets. 
Both your attention turned to your boss and then you looked at each other. Tony sighed, bringing his hand to the bridge of his nose and pinching it out of frustration. 
“I should have known. Alright, y/n get back to work. Peter, you’re with me.” 
Peter's face was bright red after being scolded by Tony. You were used to it. He never punished you really, he knew you’d get your work done. Once Peter had left, you looked around the room at all the webbing strung everywhere. Peter said it would dissolve over time, but how long would that be? 
When you got to work on the prototype, time flew by. Your lab door remained closed while blasting all your favorite music. Tony had stopped by around dinner to bring you a plate and let you say goodbye to Peter before you continued in your work trance. The next time you checked to see what time it was, it was just after midnight. 
You took a moment to admire your work. Surprisingly, you’d gotten most of it done in record time. You decided you would take a break to go for a run and then stay up the rest of the night to finish it. You would sleep when it was completed. 
You had taken the long route on your run after deciding you would stay up to finish the project. You picked a trail through the trees, enjoying all the crisp earthy smells that entered your lungs. The moon was bright enough outside that you didn’t need a flashlight. You took the time to have FRIDAY read you the information available to you about the new recruit. You discovered there were a lot of information files that you didn’t have access to. You didn’t have a high clearance since you weren’t a world-saving Avenger, but it still piqued your interest. 
Once you returned from your run, you decided the best way to wake yourself up was a cold shower and a shot of espresso. You’d need the small extra boost of energy to power through. While you waited for the coffee to brew, a noise drew your attention. 
Your brain never allows you to forget a face. The photographic memory always brings a picture to the front of your mind. This picture brought back a feeling of fear and dread. Those eyes, those captivating blue eyes, and the long, dark hair. It was him. The man that terrified you, but spared your life. 
“Um,” he spoke, drawing your attention from the depths of your mind back to the dark kitchen. 
“Your coffee?” 
You looked back to the espresso machine that was spilling out onto the drip tray below. You cursed to yourself as you quickly put a cup underneath the spouts. 
“Sorry, you just… startled me.” 
You hesitated on how to continue the sentence. Surely he remembered you, right? Probably not. The winter soldier had been around for decades. 
It now made sense how he could be Steve’s childhood friend. 
He threw a half-hearted smile your way while sitting down at one of the bar stools. 
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting anybody to be up this late.” He spoke quietly. You examined him for a moment. Broad shoulders and a long-sleeve shirt with a pair of gloves hid his arms, the real tell sign he was the winter soldier. Maybe you were wrong, maybe he was just a normal guy who got cold. Or maybe he had eczema. But those eyes, you could never forget those eyes. 
“Nobody usually is. I can just never get my mind to shut off long enough to sleep.” You admitted, throwing back the shot of espresso. Your face twisted up at the extreme bitterness as you turned around to rinse out the glass. 
You heard him chuckle a little. 
“I understand more than you think. But it doesn’t look like you’re trying to sleep, either.” 
It was your turn to hum a small, amused chuckle in response. 
“No, Stark’s got me on a project and I’m almost finished. I’m just going to pull an all-nighter.” 
While you were watching him, the way he moved and talked, he seemed gentle. He was trying his best to make himself seem smaller than he actually was. It was odd, this was the same man that was in front of you that day but with an entirely different demeanor. What was once rigid and intimidating was now gentle and enticing. You still couldn't get past the whole murderous assassin thing, if it weren't for that you would be enjoying the company of an attractive man. 
“Really? What do you do?” He asked. 
Your work was your passion. It’s all you wanted to do. Create medicines and machines to help people. Naturally, your face lit up as you spoke. 
“I’m a biomedical engineer. Tony is funding my fathers' research on personalized medicines. What I do is I take a scan of your brain and body, then it gives me a series of equations to create the perfectly chemically balanced medicine for you. They were only successful once with a volunteer's allergies, but I’m hopeful it will expand.” 
His face lit up slightly while watching you go on a tangent. His gaze softened and a smile crept up to his lips. 
“You look awfully young to be this far in your career.” He commented. 
“And you look awfully young to be 100.” You snapped back subconsciously. Realizing what had just come out of your unfiltered mouth, you gasped and clamped a hand over your mouth. 
“I am so sorry.” 
He chuckled from where he was in his seat and shook his head back and forth. 
“No, don’t apologize. That was good.” 
“I have a photographic memory.” You blurted out before you could embarrass yourself further. 
“I’m somewhat of a genius, by technical standards I suppose.”
“That’s very lucky. Your father must be proud.” He hummed. 
“He would be.” 
Your heart sank a little. You knew your father would have been proud of you. Especially with everything you’ve been through. Truthfully, you didn’t feel your gift was luck. It was forced upon you. Not that you weren’t grateful to be smart, it just wasn’t something you would have chosen willingly. A gift laced with guilt and shame. It was part of the reason you wanted to create an antidote. Just in case there was part of you that wanted to go back to simpler things, and maybe that would be available to him one day as well. 
The man seemed to notice the past tense of the phrase you used and frowned a little. It was obvious he tried to switch topics very quickly. 
“So, what are you working on with Tony?” 
You were grateful to be off that topic, happily jumping to the next one. 
“We’re working on some prosthetics for Rhodes. I’m going to use the brain scanning technology to try and create an external neurotransmitter system that will allow him to have full function of his limbs as if they were never injured. All, with a sleek design that would be practically undetectable when worn underneath clothing.”
He stared at you for a moment, his eyes wide and bright as a smile formed on his lips. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman as extraordinary as you.” 
You felt a heat rise to your face that you quickly dismissed with a wave of the hand. On one side of the coin, that compliment nearly made your heart jump from your chest. On the other, he was still the world's most notorious super soldier assassin. And he was acting like he didn’t know you. Or perhaps, didn’t remember? 
“There’s this great running trail through the trees. If you go down to the training center and out the east door it’ll lead you right to it. It’s usually what I do when I can’t sleep.” You offered, deciding it was best that you got back to your work as quickly as possible. 
The man’s face lit up once again as he looked out the windows and then back in your direction. 
“That sounds great, actually. I’ll do that. Thank you, um…” he paused, looking to you for confirmation of your name. 
“Y/n.” You realized you had gone through that entire conversation not introducing yourselves. You had remembered his name from the file and just assumed he knew you. You aren’t an Avenger so it was a silly thing to assume.  
“And it’s James, right?” 
“Yeah, James. But you can call me Bucky.” Bucky replied, standing up from his chair. 
“Bucky it is then. It was nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself. 
“I’ll see you around, Y/n.” 
Your feelings were conflicted the entire time you continued to work on the project. You enjoyed the conversation and enjoyed his company. Truthfully if you didn’t need to get back to work you could have talked to him all night. If it weren’t for the damn fact that you could remember his face. The Winter Soldier. Of course, you would find yourself attracted to him. 
“Fuck me.” You grumbled. 
After what felt like hours of working, you took a step back to look at the wire-covered model on the mannequin in front of you. You smiled gently. It was exactly how you had drawn it. And, to make it easier on yourself, you had created it in a way that if Tony liked it you could start right away on the actual model. You looked down at your watch to check the time. 
8:27 am. 
Well, it’s not the longest you’ve stayed up, but it certainly is the longest in months. You exited your lab and made your way down the maze of hallways. The unfamiliar sound of chatter made itself present as you approached the kitchen for a snack before heading to bed. 
You rounded the corner, the sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows blinding you. The white noise of conversation stopped and by the time your eyes adjusted to the light, you discovered everyone was staring at you. 
“What?” You asked, picking up an apple off the counter. 
“It’s 8:30 am,” Steve commented from his place at the stove, flipping pancakes. 
“Thanks, captain obvious.” You grumbled before taking a bite of the apple. 
Snickers broke out in the group before Natasha spoke up next. 
“You’re never up this early.” 
“That’s because I haven’t gone to bed yet.” You smiled as the group broke off into another fit of laughter. You noticed Bucky sitting off to the side, somewhat isolated but still close enough to engage in conversation. He smiled at you gently, which you returned. 
“If anyone sees Tony tell him my prototype is complete. But from me, good morning, good afternoon, and goodnight.” 
A symphony of different farewells followed you from the group as you made your way to your room. You didn’t bother to change, falling asleep as soon as your head hit your pillow. 
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Bucky hadn’t stopped thinking about you from the moment he met you. From the moment he saw you, there was a pull. He felt it in his heart like a magnet. 
While he and Steve were throwing around the shield on the front lawn, he asked questions about you. What did you do during the day, where was your lab, and what were you like to be around? Steve answered all the questions with a mischievous smile. 
“Leave it to you to get the hots for a girl on your first day.” Steve teased. 
Bucky laid in bed thinking about it. He thought about your face, how familiar you looked. He wasn’t stupid, he knew the face you made whenever you first laid eyes on him in the kitchen. The face of someone who had met the winter soldier. For the life of him, he just couldn’t remember where. 
There was no way he was sleeping. Not for a while at least, if at all. He got up and got dressed in some workout clothes. He figured he would take this opportunity to ask you to go on a run, and maybe get to know you better. 
He knew he was screwed when he started to wonder what you would think of his outfit. He changed his shirt twice before grumpily giving up. Using the instructions Steve had given him on how to get to your lab, he was off on his quest. A pep in his step and a nervous flutter in his stomach. 
Your lab was at the end of a hallway, the wall lined with glass windows and a glass door so he could see what you were doing. He watched you sway to the music while you tinkered with some wires on the table. He looked at the prototype on the mannequin's legs and smiled. You really did work fast. 
As he approached the closed door he could hear the music playing. It sounded familiar to him, but he wasn’t sure why. He slowly opened the glass door but it was obvious you didn’t hear him because you didn’t look up. You kept singing along to the song playing. 
I finished my mission. Eliminate Harold L/n and leave no witnesses. It was quite easy, an unmarried man in an estate too large for his own good. Nobody would miss him. 
As I was heading back to the exit, I heard a soft voice talking. No, not talking, singing. I growled in annoyance. Of course, someone was here at this ungodly hour of the night, why wouldn’t they be? It was just my luck. 
I followed the gentle sounds of the song down a flight of stairs to what looked like an unused basement. To my right, I saw a faint yellow light coming from the window in one of the doors. I slowly approached, opened the door, and slipped inside. 
As I approached, I noticed it was a woman. She had heard me because the music shut off and she looked around frantically. She hadn’t seen me yet, but she already looked terrified of getting caught. 
I stepped into the light and made eye contact with her. Big, round, beautiful e/c eyes staring back at me. The fear turned into recognition. What she said to me took me by surprise. 
“I know who you are.” 
She knows me? How could a scientist have known who I was? It was more likely she was in on the serum recreation. She probably had to learn about me and study me. 
“Did you come here to kill my uncle?” 
Her uncle, great. Family member as a witness. Let’s hope his brother isn’t around anymore. 
I nodded in response to her question. 
“Did you do it?” She asked again, her voice coming out with a twinge of desperation. Confused by her question, I simply nodded again. 
Then, she did something unexpected. Her whole body relaxed like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and she thanked me. She thanked me. It nearly made me tear up hearing those words. It has been a very very long time since anybody has shown me gratitude. Especially for killing their relatives. I was even more confused now about how she knew who I was. Was she forced to research the serum? Was that what she was doing now? Surely not, not this late anyway. 
I pointed to the work behind her and she accepted my action as the question I was trying to ask. 
“I’m trying to fix it. Fix us.” 
I was left with more questions than answers. There were probably a million different things that she could be talking about. My mind held out hope that one was true; the serum. And us, made me think she had it too. 
I looked down at my gun, then back at the woman. If HYDRA found out I had left a witness, there’s no telling what would become of me. Although, something deep inside of me pulled for her to survive, to spare her. In the small chance, it was the serum she was trying to reverse, I needed to let her live. So despite direct orders, I left. 
“Earth to Bucky!” 
Y/n’s voice brought Bucky back to reality. The memory had hit him like a truck. The song you were listening to triggered the memory back into his brain. He was right, you had known him. Why didn’t you say anything?
“Huh, what?” Bucky responded to your attempt at grabbing his attention. 
“I said are you okay, do you need something? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 
You were sitting in your rolling chair, arms across your chest as you watched him, your head tilted. 
“No, I’m good. I forgot why I came here actually. Goodnight.” Bucky said to you as he tried to leave the room as quickly as possible. He had hardly let you get out the words good night before shutting the door and disappearing into the compound. 
For the last half hour, you had been thinking about how odd Bucky had acted. He came to your lab, opened the door, then changed his mind and left. In truth, it disrupted your thoughts so much that you had to stop and take a break from work. 
You made your way down to the training center, preparing your headphones for your run through the trees. Had to take advantage of the moon being at its peak. 
Once you entered the training room you noticed a familiar figure at the punching bags. There was one already broken and seeping sand on the floor. You swallowed as you approached, hoping to catch his attention before you got there. 
“Bucky?” You asked, but he kept going. 
You walked around to his left side, standing to the side. Now there was no way he could use the excuse of not hearing you. 
“Bucky.” You said but got ignored again. 
Now frustrated, you shifted your positioning so you were now looking him in the eyes while he wailed into the punching bag. Frustration boiled inside of you. So much, so that while he was in the drawback of one of his punches, you stuck your hand out and caught him before it hit the bag. 
Your hand stung as it collided with the hard surface underneath his boxing wrap. Instinctively you brought your hand to your stomach and held onto it. 
“Holy shit that hurt.” You hissed as you doubled over and favored your hand. 
You looked up at Bucky and saw the shocked expression on his face as he stared at you. 
“You couldn’t have worn a short sleeve shirt or something? Shit.” You flicked your hand to try and shake the pain away. 
“How did you do that?” He asked. You looked at him, making strong eye contact as your heart began to beat out of your chest. 
“I used to do jujitsu.” You attempted to explain. 
“That wasn’t jujitsu, you stopped my metal arm mid-swing. How did you do that?” Bucky started to get more demanding. You hadn’t told anyone you had the serum, you wouldn't let anybody here figure that out. So to avoid that conversation, you turned to walk away. 
“That’s not important. I was going to invite you on a run but you can forget about that now.” You said sassily. 
“I’m sorry I was just-“ Bucky started, watching you walk away from him. “Wait, please.” 
The command triggered the obedience in your mind, causing you to become frustrated. Although, you were good at working around it. He said to wait, he didn’t say for how long. So you only stopped for a second before you kept walking. 
“Stop walking away and talk to me, y/n,” Bucky called after you again. 
Your feet stopped moving before your brain could even register the sentence. This time you couldn’t work your way around it. The command was direct and specific. No trying to cheat the system now. You turned around sassily, standing with your weight on your dominant foot. 
“What?” You responded dryly. 
“How did you do that?” He asked, a slightly demanding tone to his voice. 
“It’s not your business.” You responded quickly. 
“Be honest with me please y/n.” 
You fought with the internal motive within your body. You struggled not to outright admit to it. Usually, you could control your own verbal choices with a little mental override effort. 
“You once told me that you were trying to fix us. Do you have the serum?” 
Your heart nearly dropped out of your chest. 
“You remember.” You marveled. 
“I didn’t until earlier. Why didn’t you tell me?” 
“I’m sorry, I assumed you remembered.” 
It wasn’t until Bucky brought his hands up to his hair that you noticed the blood-stained boxing wraps around his knuckles. 
“You’re bleeding.” You commented, taking a step towards him. 
“And you’re a super soldier!” He spat out the words like they were poison. 
You stormed up to him, inches from his face with fire coming out of your ears. You brought up an accusing finger in warning. 
“Shut up. You don’t speak another word of this. Nobody else knows. I wanted to keep it that way.” 
You didn’t consider yourself a threatening person, but Bucky’s eyes widened as he nodded with understanding. The little bit of power you felt in that moment was an ego boost. You reached down and grabbed him by the wrist to guide him back to your lab. 
Once you were there, you shut and locked the door behind you. 
“Sit.” You commanded him. He obeyed, taking a seat in the rolling stool as he watched you walk around your lab to gather an ointment and a wet towel. 
You sat down in front of him and unwrapped his knuckles. It was clear that he started without his fists wrapped and then decided to halfway through. 
“Yes. My uncle used me as a test subject for his version of the serum.” You explained while cleaning the area of the wound for him. 
I opened the ointment jar and pulled out a generous amount. 
“This shouldn’t hurt, but it might tingle slightly.” You warned. 
“What is it?” Bucky asked. 
You began applying a thin layer to his cracked knuckles as you explained. 
“An ointment I accidentally created. It heals pretty much all superficial wounds within minutes.” 
Bucky was silent as he watched you work. Once you were done, he watched his knuckles carefully. It began to generate a dull tingle on the edges of the cracks. He watched as the small cracks in his skin began to mend and heal before his eyes. 
His eyes returned to yours with a look of amazement. 
“That’s incredible.”
“Thank you.” You responded while trying to clean up after yourself. 
“Your uncle… What was he trying to change with the serum?” Bucky asked. 
It was difficult for you to decide whether or not to tell him. You hardly knew him, but something inside of you wanted someone to confide in. If anyone was going to understand it was going to be him. You thought about opening up to Steve, but he was always so busy. This was a huge secret that you didn’t want to get out. 
“It was a long time ago.” 
“You might be the only person that understands me.” Bucky said quietly, Causing you to turn around and look at him. His face was lost, almost puppy dog-like. You could almost see the desperation in his blue eyes. He held out his hand for you to take. You hesitated, wanting to reach out but that part of you so long ago kept your hand restrained. 
“I’m sorry, for everything,” Bucky whispered, the look on his face sincere. 
“I promise I won’t hurt you. That’s not me anymore. If you could spare me a bit of your time, I’ll prove it to you.” 
You couldn’t help but feel your heart ache for the man in front of you. It was clear to you that maybe he needed someone to confide in as much as you did. You reached your hand out and took his. 
Bucky looked relieved, his head dropping to look at his lap as he squeezed your hand. 
“Thank you.” 
You pulled up a stool to sit in front of him, preparing to lay out your biggest secret to him. 
“My uncle wanted to create a serum that would allow him to control armies of soldiers without having to use brainwashing. His serum would make them obedient to a fault so that they wouldn’t know what they were doing was wrong in the first place.” 
You could see the fear in his eyes when he asked; 
“Did it work?” 
“Well, I only got about 75% of the strength, but for some reason, the serum made me extremely smart. It’s what gave me a photographic memory.” You explained. 
“What about the obedience?” He seemed to be the most concerned about that bit. From what you could guess, he was worried that it would have been successful. 
“It didn’t work entirely.” You were hesitant to explain out of fear it could be used against you. “I can control it most of the time. Find ways around it but, a direct command is a direct command. And my body won’t let me ignore it.” 
Bucky’s face dropped into devastation. Truthfully, you had never seen anybody look more distraught. 
“In the training center when I told you to stop,” 
“No,” you jumped at the chance to interrupt him before he could continue. 
“Don’t-“ 
“I am so sorry.” He looked genuinely upset. 
“Don’t apologize to me Bucky, you had no idea.” 
“No, y/n, you have no idea how much this means to me.” 
He met your eyes, an intense seriousness to them. You remembered at that moment that the winter soldier was controllable by whoever said the code. Why had you thought he would use it against you? If anything, he was the only one who understood what you were going through. 
Bucky stood up and began to pace the room. You could almost see the thoughts gathering together in his mind. 
“I promise you, that will never happen again. I’m going to make sure that never happens to you again.” 
“Nobody else knows about this. Not even Tony, please don’t tell anybody.” You begged. 
“Nobody is going to know.” He snapped in such a serious tone that it surprised you. 
The room filled with a silence that was neither comforting nor awkward. You looked down at your hands while Bucky was standing off somewhere in the room. You were going to have to get over this irrational fear of being around him. You from years ago would need to let go of everything because you now needed a friend, and The Winter Soldier might just be your unlikely friend. 
After gathering some courage, you stood up from your chair, catching Bucky’s attention. He turned to face you and looked at you expectantly. You slowly walked towards him until you were only a few feet apart. You held your breath as you pulled him towards you and entrapped him in a hug. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around you and gave you a gentle squeeze. 
It was comforting to feel his heart racing just as badly as yours was. You finally let go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 
“Thank you for listening.” You whispered. 
A hum vibrated around inside Bucky’s rib cage before he replied; 
“Thank you for trusting me.” 
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It had been a little over three weeks since you started the Rhodes project and you were between a rock and a hard place. Each day was another attempt and each day a new failure. You had stopped sleeping, and even skipped meals to ensure you had extra time to work on the project. Due to the heightened abilities of your mind, the lack of sleep affected you differently.  Was it healthy, probably not. Could you still function? Yes. 
Bucky often came to sit with you and visit you. He would try his best to understand what you were trying to do, even trying to help where he could. But most of the time, he would bring you meals, and the two of you would just sit and enjoy conversations. 
Other times, he knew that he could get some alone time away from the other Avengers if he needed it. It didn’t happen often, but when it did he just sat in the corner and read books trying to catch up on the last few decades. 
Unfortunately, the last couple of days most of the Avengers were out on a mission so you hadn’t had a lot of company. You worked endlessly trying to figure out where you were going wrong. The last few days blended and you couldn’t recall the last time you had slept. 
While making yourself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, Tony strolled in for the morning. He stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on you. 
“You look like shit, Sherlock.” He remarked. 
You rolled your eyes a little, being sleep deprived made you a little irritable. 
“Thank you, that’s great to hear.” 
“When’s the last time you slept?” Tony asked. 
You stayed silent, looking down at your coffee as you aimlessly stirred it around. 
“Y/n-“ 
“I’m really close, I can feel it!” You protested. 
“Go to sleep, right now. Go to your room and sleep.” Tony instructed. 
You felt your heart tighten in disappointment slightly. You knew that Tony wasn’t upset, he cared about you just like the rest of his staff. No matter how badly you wanted to stay up and finish your project, you had to listen. 
With your head hung low, you left the kitchen and walked towards the hallway where the bedrooms were. You had only made it about halfway down the hallway before a hand caught your arm. 
You looked up to meet the eyes of Bucky who was looking down at you with a sad expression. 
“Do you want to?” 
“What?” You questioned, your body subconsciously trying to slowly pry itself away from his grasp to go to your room. 
“Do you want to go to sleep?” He said again more gently this time. 
You sighed. 
“I need to, but no. I am frustrated that I can’t figure this out.” 
Bucky bit his bottom lip like he was deep in thought. 
“I have an idea that might be able to help you. But after that, you really should get some sleep. You look tired, doll.” 
You smiled at him and nodded, excited for what his idea might be. 
“Do you want to go back to your lab?” He asked. 
“Yes, I do.” You responded. 
Bucky had kept his promise to help you have control of your actions. You had noticed he changed his wording around you. He carefully chose his words so that he was never directly instructing you. Whatever he did, he always left you a choice. You also decided that if you were ever doing something you didn’t want to do, he had to ask permission first to redirect your mind. It was a sweet gesture. You never had to implement it until now. 
“Then get back to your lab.” He said with a cheeky smile. 
The two of you walked back to your lab, careful as to not be seen by Tony as you ran for the elevator. Once you were in your lab, you locked the door and asked Friday to dim the windows so nobody could see inside. 
“Alright,” you turned eagerly towards him. “What is this thing to help me?”
Bucky gave me a weak smile as he began to take off his jacket, revealing a short sleeve shirt underneath. For as long as you had known him, he always wore a long sleeve shirt or a jacket. He never let his metal arm show out of fear of making others uncomfortable. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about asking him to look at it for your project, but that thought only crossed your mind once. 
“I thought that maybe you could look at my arm and it might push you in the direction you need to go.” 
A wide and bright smile covered your face at his gesture. The vulnerability he was showing you right now caused a new light to shine down on him. He trusted you, and you weren't going to break that now. 
“Let's try it! Sit down on the chair, please.” You instructed. 
Bucky nodded, walking over to one of the rolling chairs and taking a seat. You approached him and took his metal hand in yours. You ran your fingers up the cold, smooth material until you hit the sleeve of his shirt. You looked at the cotton fabric and then sideways at Bucky who met your gaze. You were embarrassed to ask, but you needed to see the full piece. You avoided his eye contact and felt a heat rise to your face as you asked. 
“Could you take this off for me?”
Bucky smirked a little as he grabbed at his shirt and easily slid it off his torso. “I usually wait until someone’s bought me dinner first.”
A burning heat rose to your face at the comment and you grumbled a curse word at him playfully. It was hard to ignore that he was a lot more muscular than you first thought. As awful as it sounds, you forced yourself not to stare. 
Your hand slid up the smooth metal of his arm and felt all the moving pieces and joints. Considering how long ago this was created, the technology was seriously impressive. 
“I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder, is that okay?”
 You asked and he nodded in response. 
You gently placed the palm of your left hand on the scarred area where metal met flesh. You felt your heartstrings tug slightly in sadness for what he went through. You pushed away that feeling and kept working. You held his arm in different positions and instructed him to stretch his fingers and then make a fist. Your right hand slid down the metal arm and you took his hand in yours while keeping your left hand on his shoulder. “Squeeze my hand please.” You instructed. Bucky gave your hand a gentle squeeze. When you were satisfied, you moved the placement of your left hand and asked him to squeeze again. He followed your instructions. 
You pulled your hands back and looked at him. He had an unfamiliar look on his face. A combination of a soft smile and wondrous eyes. 
“What?” You asked, suddenly feeling bashful underneath his blue gaze. 
“I just love watching you work.” Bucky shrugged. 
A head radiated on your face that you had to shove aside to move on to the next step in the process. 
“Would you mind going into the scanner? It'll only take 5 minutes.”
He looked back at the machine and then back at me with a hesitant look.
“I’ll be there the whole time.” You reassured him. 
Bucky looked up at you with a soft smile and a nod. You opened the glass door to the scanning machine and gestured for him to step inside. He followed instructions, standing in the center of the machine while the door slid closed. You made sure he could still see you through the glass door while you pulled up the computer and booted up the system. The machine first took his height, weight, and BMI, and logged it into his profile. While it was scanning him, you filled in the physical descriptions for the volunteer applicant notes. 
You kept an eye on the scanning program while filling out the form. As the scan developed you noticed something that forced you to flip over to his scan. Abnormalities in the prefrontal lobe and hippocampus, the two main regions of the brain that store memory. 
His scans were almost completed when you started to notice something. The machine took a scan of the internal structure of his metal arm as well as the outside. You zoomed in on the components within the mechanism. You noticed the way that the nerves of his arm connected to the wiring of the arm. It was a sloppy job, you could have done so much better. 
While staring intensely at the screen, you noticed something within the wiring and connections that gave you an idea for your project. As your brain was processing the information you were seeing, Bucky exited the scanner and walked over to you by the computer. He leaned down over your shoulder to get a closer look. 
“Woah, is that me? That’s pretty cool.” 
He noticed your intense staring at the computer with a look of shocked realization on your face. “Are you okay?” 
“That’s it.” You whispered. 
“What’s it?” Bucky asked, trying to get you to say your thoughts aloud. 
“That’s it that's exactly what I needed!” Your excitement and joy were obvious in the tone of your voice. You looked over at Bucky who met you with a smile as equally excited as yours. 
“I could kiss you! Oh my gosh, thank you!” You raved as you scrambled for a tablet to write down all the thoughts in your brain. 
Bucky chuckled and straightened his posture. 
“Don’t let me stop you.”
Instincts took over as you rolled onto your toes and pressed your lips onto Buckys. He was too shocked to react before you pulled away from him with a smirk on your face. His face was red with a growing smile creeping its way onto them. 
“Did I do that?” he asked, scared he might have made you do something you didn’t want to do. 
“No.” You responded with a sweet smile. 
“I did.” 
A smile filled with adoration appeared on his face as he looked at you. Bucky leaned down and kissed your lips again. His lips were slightly chapped and the stubble on his face tickled your chin. He tasted sweet and minty, leaving you wanting more as he pulled away.
“I’ll cover for you while you work.” Bucky offered before placing another quick kiss on your lips. He headed for the door, grabbing and putting on his shirt on before reaching the handle.
“I thought I had to go to sleep?” You questioned. 
Bucky paused halfway through the door and turned to face you. 
“We both know you’re not going to sleep until it’s done. 
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Your project was complete and fully functional. It felt like you had just climbed mount everest for this accomplishment, but it was done. 
You left your lab in the late evening, sleep finally catching up to you. You entered the common room from the elevator and noticed most of the Avengers watching a movie in the living room. You made a lazy attempt at greeting your friends. 
“Y/n,” Tony called which stopped you in your tracks.  
“I told you to go to bed six hours ago.” He commented, checking his watch for the time.
“You did.” You agreed. 
“The prosthetic is done, by the way. Now I’m going to sleep.”
You dismissed yourself from the conversation, but not before making eye contact with Bucky who sat next to Steve on the couch. He smirked a little and gave you a wink. You reciprocated it before continuing to make your way toward your bedroom. Before you shut the door, you heard Tony say; 
“Did you have something to do with this, Barnes?”
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Part 1/2
A/N
I would love to take inspiration from readers any put them into stories and shorts! Please don’t hesitate to message me directly or use my ask inbox! 💜💜
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smaptain-smerica · 1 year
Text
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: {Y/n} Was at the top of her class at the Red Room Academy. Sought after for her expertise in the field by Dr. Zola, who purchased the widow for his Hydra Program. {y/n} Excelled quickly, and began teaching the new recruits using her previously taught skills. All was well until a James Barnes entered the program. His presence turned the entirety of the Hydra program on its head. Rules, hearts and trust broken time and time again.
Maturity: This book is rated mature for graphic descriptions of violence, foul language, and sexual content that may be sensitive to readers under the age of 18.
a/n: This story was originally posted on wattpad and will be updated there first. Follow there for quicker updates! https://www.wattpad.com/user/smaptin-smerica
Master List
Chapter 31
I didn't think my brain could absorb any more information after learning about everything I had missed in the world since I was 12. Sam and Bucky answered every single question that I had and even argued about the timeline of events at times.
It was now hour 19 into our journey back to New York and we were almost there. Once I finally ran out of questions, I let myself sink into the back seat to think. Bucky never took his eyes off me from the passenger seat. "You okay? I know that was a lot." He tried to reassure me.
"Holy shit." I grumbled, looking up from my lap and at Bucky's face. "I can't believe that you're in the Smithsonian."
Both men let out deep belly laughs. "We will start there whenever we get back to New York."
I gave Bucky a smile as he turned back around to give Sam instructions back to his apartment. I let my face drop. The world was so big, and I was free. Where would I go? I've only seen parts of Europe, I don't remember parts of America. Would I just follow Bucky wherever he went?
It was easy to spot New York as we approached from a distance. It wasn't until I looked up from my lap that I realized we had entered the city. My face dropped in shock and I scooted over to the window to try and get a glimpse of all the lights and buildings. Even with the setting sun the city looked alive. I thought I might actually see the buildings breath if I looked close enough.
The window I was staring out rolled down and I stuck my head out into the cool evening air. The wind whipped my hair in all different directions but I didn't care. I was too mesmerized by the colors of all the lights.
"Welcome to the city that never sleeps, y/n." I heard Sam say through the wind. I watched as I passed huge TV's hanging from buildings displaying advertisements and different things like that.
I finally brought my head back into the car. My hair was a mess from the wind and I locked eyes with Bucky. "It gets easier, but there's nothing like seeing it for the first time." He smiled at me, which I gratefully returned with an excited smile of my own.
~~~
Bucky's POV
Watching the way that y/n's face lit up as she took in the sights of New York lifted my heart. I was scared that she would be terrified. But she handled us catching her up and seeing the city surprisingly well. It gave me hope.
Sam pulled up to my apartment building and dropped us off. He explained that he had some family here that he was going to stay with. I was glad, honestly. My studio apartment was rather small for three people. Plus I didn't want him to know I still slept on the floor.
The modern day elevator was an interesting first experience with y/n. She jumped a little once it started moving, grabbing my arm for support. I laughed a little, though I don't blame her. This building was old and the elevators were sketchy at times.
I opened the door for her and let her in. I watched her walk around my small space and suddenly felt embarrassed. I wasn't expecting guests. There were pillows and blankets strung out on the floor in front of the tv. There were hardly any decorations on the walls. Luckily the bed was made, mostly because I hardly ever touched it.
"Um," I spoke to cut through the awkwardness I was feeling. "Do you want something to eat? Are you hungry?" I offered, silently praying I had left something edible in the fridge.
She just looked at me, her face displaying nothing but I could see the gears turning inside of her head. I stopped beside her, waiting for her answer.
"When's the next time I'm going to get to eat?" Her answer broke my heart a little. I know exactly where she was coming from. Although, I was overcome with joy that I was the one to get to tell her she didn't have to live like that anymore.
"Whenever you want." I put my hands on either side of her face as she looked up at me. How easily I could get lost in her eyes. "You're free to do whatever you want now."
A wide and bright smile spread across her lips as her eyes flipped back and forth between mine. "Then no, I'm not hungry. I will eat later."
I returned her smile with one of my own. "Atta girl." I praised jokingly as I let go of her face. She kept staring at me, the distance between us close. Dangerously close. I wanted to kiss her. A feeling I hadn't felt in a long time. I didn't even know I still had these feelings for her until she was here. Standing in front of me was the lost love that haunted my dreams. I woke up wishing I could have seen her one last time. Now? I prayed to whoever was listening that I would never wake up from this dream.
"Do you sleep on the floor?" She asked, drawing me out of the depths of my mind. I grimaced at the question. To no fault of her own, I was just  still embarrassed by it.
"Yes, I can't seem to get to sleep in a bed."
She looked up at me with a sympathetic smile before immediately moving on to exploring my home. I didn't realize that it was something I missed about her, but she didn't push me further. Going to therapy and being swarmed with people constantly asking me questions was exhausting. Y/n never pushed for more, never asked me to explain beyond. She was content with what I told her, and that was a relief.
"Well, I'll get you a shirt to sleep in and you can take the bed." I suggested, walking into the space where my bed and closet were.
"And if it's too comfy you'll save me a spot on the floor?" She asked with a mischievous hint to her voice.
I let out a laugh while pulling out an old T-shirt of mine. "I'll save you a spot right next to me." I joked back.
I made sure she was settled. I gave her a toothbrush to let her brush her teeth, a hairbrush, and a cup of water to keep by her bed. She crawled under the covers, settling herself into the king bed. "I see what you mean about the beds." She commented as I walked back to where the light switch was.
"Well, the floors still open if you're too comfortable." I replied, leaning on the wall frame.
Y/n smiled once more at me, making my heart nearly flutter out of my chest. "I'll be okay, Buck. Let's get some sleep."
I smiled gently at her trying to reassure me. She knew I was worried. "I know you will. Goodnight," I paused before turning the light off. "Diamond." I slipped around the corner just in time to see a pillow roll on the floor at my feet.
"Goodnight, asshole." She snapped at me from the dark.
I chuckled, shaking my head as I also got myself ready for bed. I debated staying up to watch her, make sure she didn't have any nightmares, but sleep got the better of me.
~~~
A creak in the floorboards caused me to jolt awake. I listened with my ears first before sitting up and looking in the direction of the kitchen. The city lights cast a faint yellow glow through the window in the kitchen. I saw a silhouetted figure standing by the kitchen sink.
"Y/n?" I asked with no answer from the unmoving shadow. I looked at the time on the microwave. It was nearing 3 am.
"Did you need more water?" I asked, standing up to approach her. It was weird that she wasn't answering me. Maybe she was sleep walking?
I stopped in my tracks when I noticed a shining metal object clutched in her hand. I put my hands up in surrender. "Y/n, put the knife down." I instructed.
Finally, she turned around to walk my way. She walked around the kitchen island and was now fully facing me. She stepped into the light, the same dark look in her eyes as the first day she showed up.
"Shit." I hissed.
Y/n advanced, throwing herself and the knife in my direction. I dodged her swings quickly as she backed me towards the wall. I slipped around the corner and into my bedroom area. I used dodges and sometimes my metal arm to block her blows.
I needed to get that knife out of her hands. She was too lethal wielding it. "Come on y/n, we can talk about this."
She responded by lunging for me with an angered yell. I moved at the last second, the knife plunging into the wall. I took this opportunity to kick her in the chest and send her flying backwards. I must have used more force than I thought because she whacked her head on the floor pretty hard, knocking her out.
I took the knife out of the wall, grumbling to myself about it while I approached her slowly. Her body lay completely still on the floor, limbs sprawled out wildly. I knelt down at her side and looked at her chest. She was still breathing.
I reached my metal hand tenderly down and put it on her chest. I could feel her heart beating. "Y/n." I spoke gently, shaking her to try and wake her up.
When that didn't work I moved my hand to touch her face. When the metal made contact with the side of her cheek she jumped awake, frantically sitting up and scooting back.
"You're okay, you're okay!" I tried to calm her frantic state. Her eyes looked at me, panicked and confused.
"How... what happened?" She finally asked. I was afraid to tell her, I knew how it felt to come out of it and not remember what you did or who you hurt.
"It's nothing, you're okay now." I reached my hands out to her in a comforting manner and she took them. I slowly rose us to a standing position.
"How did I get out of bed, I don't remember..." she paused, looking around the room before finally laying eyes on me. "Did I attack you again?" She asked quietly.
I nodded in response. "It's okay. You're here now."
"Shit, Bucky I'm so sorry."
"This is why we're going to Wakanda tomorrow." I put my hands on either side of her face and forced her to look at me. I could see the desperation and sadness in her eyes. Tears lined the bottoms of them and I could tell she felt guilty. I brought her into my chest, wrapping her in a reassuring hug.
"Come on, let's go back to bed." I whispered encouragingly to her. She allowed me to guide her back to the bedroom where she laid down on the bed.
For the first time since I moved in, I crawled into the bed beside her. It felt like I was sinking into the mattress. But the look of relief on her face when she saw me get in bed was more than enough to make me want to stay.
"Was it like this for you?" Her soft voice asked in the dark room. I sighed, not knowing how to answer. Part of me didn't want to answer. As much as I avoided reliving my past as possible, she was a walking ghost of it. I could suffer though a few bad memories for the sake of comforting her.
"Sometimes, yes. I wouldn't remember in the moment what I was doing. I would come out of the trance not remember how I got there." I hesitated finishing that sentence. When I really started remembering again is when I'd have nightmares. I thought they were just dreams until I started to have them over and over again. I wanted her to be able to sleep, so I opted out of telling her that much.
"And you got better?" Y/n asked.
I nodded. "I got better."
This seemed to comfort her. Her body let out a large sigh and she closed her eyes. I watched her for a while. I watched her breathing as it slowly fell into a steady, rhythmic pattern. I didn't need to go back to sleep. I needed to make sure that I was there for her in case she needed me.
That's what I wished I had, and I know that she would have done it for me had she been able.
I don't know what happened to her or who did this to her, but I was going to find them. I would hunt them down for the rest of my days if I had to. My therapist wouldn't be happy, but for Y/n, I was going to throw rule number 2 out the window.
Next Chapter in Progress
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smaptain-smerica · 1 year
Text
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: {Y/n} Was at the top of her class at the Red Room Academy. Sought after for her expertise in the field by Dr. Zola, who purchased the widow for his Hydra Program. {y/n} Excelled quickly, and began teaching the new recruits using her previously taught skills. All was well until a James Barnes entered the program. His presence turned the entirety of the Hydra program on its head. Rules, hearts and trust broken time and time again.
Maturity: This book is rated mature for graphic descriptions of violence, foul language, and sexual content that may be sensitive to readers under the age of 18.
a/n: This story was originally posted on wattpad and will be updated there first. Follow there for quicker updates! https://www.wattpad.com/user/smaptin-smerica
Master List
Chapter 30
The trip to Sam's house was a short one. The main difference I noticed in the world was the style of house change. But other than that, the small town looked simple. I was grateful there wasn't a huge sensory overload with it.
It was nearing 1 am when we quietly slipped in the door of the house. Sam made sure to open and close the door with dramatic quiet. Unfortunately, it was pointless because a living room lamp flipped on and a black woman in a nightgown and bonnet was sitting in an arm chair. "Do you know what time it is?" She demanded.
I shifted to my toes to whisper into Bucky's ear; "sister?"
"Yep." He responded curtly, not taking his eyes off of Sam.
"Sarah, I told you we wouldn't be back until later." Sam tried to reason with his sibling. Unfortunately, her momma bear instincts kicked in.
"The police said someone attacked you!"
"Not me, Bucky!" Sam quickly flipped the script and pointed a thumb back at us. Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
"And you bring a weapon covered stranger into my home? Is this who attacked you?" Sarah gestured her hand towards me and threw me a look. I felt the heat rise to my face in embarrassment. I looked down at the floor, wanting my eyes to be anywhere but on Sarah or Sam.
Bucky's hand traveled to the small of my back for comfort. He gave me a gentle scratch while Sam and Sarah excused themselves from the room to go talk. My feet moved on their own it seemed, turning on heel and exiting out the front door with Bucky calling after me.
"Y/n, please wait."
"I shouldn't be here." I shouted back, continuing to walk into the yard near a tree with a tire swing.
"Y/n, it's okay. Sarah is just tired. It's only for a night."
I stopped, turning around to face him completely. I couldn't help the tears forming in my eyes as the weight of my situation crashed down on me. The small front yard was illuminated by the full moon overhead, casting a white glow across Bucky's face. 
"No I mean I shouldn't be here at all! I spent all those years killing innocent people and now 60 years later I somehow get a second chance? I am the least deserving person of that. 60 fucking years and it feels like I took a 10 minute nap! Zola should have put that bullet through my head instead-"
"Y/n!" Bucky was closer to me than I thought. My vision was blurred by my emotions that I didn't notice him right in front of me. His hands grabbed my wrists to stop them from frantically flailing. I met his blue eyes that now looked grey in the moonlight. Tears brimmed the bottoms of them as he looked at me with a passionate intensity.
"I'm sorry." He whispered. His hands moved from my hands to either side of my face which forced me to look at him. I could read every raw and real emotion that he was feeling. "I'm sorry this happened to you. And I wish I could change it."
His voice was hardly above a whisper, broken and full of emotions. I felt a quiver in my lip begin as the emotions finally became too much to hold in. I let my head fall onto his chest as waterfalls of tears silently slid down my cheeks. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoed in my head and helped calm me. Bucky simply hugged me back, stroking one hand comfortingly over the back of my head.
"Hey buck!" Sam called into the yard from the front door. Thankfully we were far enough away that he most likely couldn't see that the both of us had been crying. "You guys are good, come on." He encouraged.
Bucky and I looked at each other. He gave me a gentle smile before bringing his hands up to my face and wiping the tears away with his thumbs. I gave him a pitiful attempt at a smile before taking his hand and heading back into the house.
"Unfortunately, I only have the couches to give you. But, tomorrow is Saturday so Sarah is making waffles for breakfast so we can talk more about our next course of action then." Sam talked a little nervously, his eyes darting between both Bucky and I.
"Sounds good. Thanks Sam." Bucky thanked his friend with a smile and then looked over at me. I looked between the two men and then back down at myself. I was still wearing a black tactical suit.
"You don't have a T-shirt I could borrow, do you?" I asked before looking back up at Sam. His mouth spread into a wide, crooked grin before he nodded.
"Yeah, I'll get you some shorts too." He offered before quickly making his way down the hallway.
Once I received my clothes for the night, I settled into the uncomfortable couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. I laid as still as a board, my fingers gently tapping together as an anxious tick. I couldn't sleep. How could I sleep? I was just asleep for nearly 60 years. Do people know about me? What I did? Is there any record of me anywhere? They said Hydra and the red room were disbanded, was I in those files they recovered?
"Y/n?" Bucky's gentle voice brought me out of my mental trance. I looked over at him and he was looking at me from where he laid on the couch. "Are you going to sleep?" He asked.
I adverted my eyes, returning them to the ceiling and simply replying. "No."
I heard him shift his weight around and the blanket over him rustle. I looked over at Bucky to see him rotating to the side. He pulled the blanket up and patted the empty space he created. "Come here."
I listened to him. For me it felt like a short amount of time had passed. He had been through and seen so much since I last saw him. I wondered if those feelings were still there for him or if they had fizzled out. Him offering to lay next to me gave me a little hope. I got up from my spot and slithered into the covers. It was a small fit, but the feeling of his arm slipping around my waist and up my shirt gave me goosebumps. His warm hand gently scratched the bare skin on my lower back and he looked down at me with a gentle smile.
My eyes traveled around his face. The new age lines, the short hair, he looked exactly the same yet so different. I furrowed my eyebrows together once I saw the scratch mark on his cheek. I brought my hand up to his face, gently brushing my thumb underneath it. "Did I do that?"
Bucky nodded in response. "Matches the one you gave me on my forehead."
I let out a chuckle, thinking about the fond memory. My eyes self consciously went to that side of his forehead where there wasn't even a scar. My eyes returned to his blue ones and confusion washed over me. "How do you remember that?"
Bucky smiled a little bit at my realization. "I remember everything."
Shock fell over me. I couldn't find the words to say quite yet. How? When?
"Some things are a little fuzzy still," Bucky continued, taking everything I was thinking and answering. "But everything with you, I remember clearly."
I felt a relief wash over me. I was so happy for him. He was able to remember everything. His friends, his life before, he was able to remember who he was. I remembered him being so distraught about it before. "That's incredible." I smiled widely and genuinely.
Bucky smiled down at me. His hand traveled further up my side and his fingers skipped over the indent in my skin from the metal rod. He quickly retracted his hand, bringing it now against my back and pulled me closer to him. "I also remember falling in love with that beautiful smile. Twice."
I could feel the heat press up my face and into a wide smile as I looked at him in the dimly lit space. My heart dropped as I remembered the moments before I got put into cryostasis. My mouth turned down in memory of my red haired friend. "Do you remember Caroline?" I asked quietly, the words barley escaping my lips.
Bucky's face dropped as he looked between both of my eyes for a point of focus. He nodded grimly. "I do." He finally answered with equal quiet.
"Why?" It was a question I was wondering the moment before I was frozen in time. I knew it wasn't the real him I knew, but I at least thought he would have fought it.
"I was brainwashed and programmed with trigger words to completely take over my free will." He explained to me. Bucky brought his hand up to my face and gently stroked his fingers through my hair, securely tucking strands behind my ear. "Whoever spoke those words had me firmly under their command. I couldn't do anything to stop it."
I frowned. I still vividly remembered everything he had gone through in the time I knew him yet he continued to go through so much worse when I left. "Bucky..."
"But," he stopped me from continuing my thought. "The place we're going, Wakanda, they helped me. Rehabilitated me and made me better. Now, the words don't work. Nobody can control me." He smiled at me fondly for a moment before continuing.
"You're going to love it there. I thought about that often while I was there. You would've loved it there. It's beautiful, from the people to the landscape and the technology. All of it is amazing."
I smiled at the way he explained it to me. Even after all this time he still thought about me. I was surprised he even remembered me. "Well, I'm here now." I whispered.
"You're here now." Bucky whispered in astonishment. "And I cannot believe it." His hand gripped my face now and I couldn't take my eyes off of him. This all felt like a dream, a fantastic dream that I was terrified of waking up from. I hoped that if I didn't go to sleep that I would continue to live in this moment. I was terrified to face what the world has become. I was also terrified that I might relive the past if I closed my eyes. Then I would wake up back in the hydra encampment.
Bucky pulled me into his chest and the steady sound of his heartbeat entered my mind. It echoed on the empty corners and lulled my eyes closed. I felt his breathing change, the intermittent twitches of his muscles letting me know he had fallen asleep.
I slowly went to sleep too. Hoping and praying that I woke up exactly where I was.
~~~
My mind was slowly being drawn from sleep by muffled voices in my ears. I expected myself to wake up and be in a lab, but the warmth next to me was confusing. I opened my eyes and looked up at the ceiling, only to see two wide eyed boys looking down at me.
"Hi." I croaked out.
"Hi." The older boy said with a slight crack in his voice.
"AJ, Cass, leave them alone!" Sarah snapped from the kitchen. The two boys hurried quietly out the front door and shut it behind them. The door shut rather loudly, waking Bucky with a start.
With wide eyes he scanned the area for a moment, before finally resting upon me. "Good morning." His rough voice left his throat.
"Good morning." I replied, shifting to sit up on the couch. I stretched my aching joints up into the air, a few cracks escaping.
"Breakfast is ready." Sarah called into the house, taking off her apron and walking towards the door with a smile at the two of us.
"Did you sleep?" Bucky's question drew my focus to where he was, shifting his weight around to sit next to me.
"For a little while, yes."
"Good." While rubbing his eyes, I noticed a necklace around his neck that I hadn't seen before. Maybe it got untucked sometime in the night. I reached over to grab one of the dog tags.
"James Buchanan Barnes." I said aloud, running my fingers along the raised metal on the tag.
Bucky chuckled while never taking his eyes off me. "Careful, or you'll start to sound like my mother." He joked.
I hummed a laugh in response, finally letting go of the tags. "From when you were in the army?" I asked.
Bucky nodded as an answer.
Through the front door burst two flashes of children, laughing wildly and sprinting for the kitchen. They nearly collided with Sam who had just exited the hallway. "Woah watch it!" Sam scolded them.
Sarah came through the door after them, nearly doubling over and out of breath. "I'll get you two... later..." she said in between breaths.
I finally rose to my feet, Bucky following suit after me. We made our way to the kitchen and fixed ourselves plates of food. Well, Bucky made mine for me, making sure I got every topping I wanted.
AJ and Cass, who I learned were Sarah children, had already finished and went outside to play. That left the adults inside to talk. Sarah kept herself busy by washing the dishes, but I could tell she wanted to know what was going on.
"So, I got in contact with Agent Ross, he is getting clearance from T'challa and Shuri for an aircraft to pick us up. But, we'd have to go to New York first."
"Perfect. We can stay at my place until we leave." Bucky offered.
"Sounds great." Sam added.
It wasn't until I listened to the two of them talk that I actually had no idea where I was. I assumed America, but which state? Where at in the state? Somewhere south, obviously close to the water.
"What are you thinking about?" Bucky asked, nudging me so I escaped my thoughts.
"Yeah, sorry. I just don't know where we are." I admitted, looking between the two of them.
"Oh, Louisiana." Sam confirmed.
"Okay," I nodded. "And where is New York?"
"Um, north east. About a days travel by car. Unless we take a plane." Bucky explained.
"Can your arm make it through a metal detector to get on the plane?" Sam asked.
Bucky opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it, seeming to think about it for a moment.
"Regardless," I drew the conversation back on topic. "I say we leave right away. I don't want to waste any time to figure out what's wrong with me."
Bucky put a hand on my knee and gave me a gentle squeeze. "Alright, we leave right away then." Bucky then turned his attention back to Sam with a serious tone. "Don't feel obligated to come. If you have other things going on-"
"Are you kidding?" Sam interrupted. "We're going back to Wakanda, my calendar is clear."
Next Chapter
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smaptain-smerica · 1 year
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A year ago today I decided to start posting my stories on tumblr. Thank you for all the support in sharing my creativity! 💜
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smaptain-smerica · 1 year
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Beauty School Dropout - Part V
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Female!Reader
Summary: When Bradley is called back to Top Gun, he is reunited with a long lost friend from high school. Through their strenuous time leading up to the mission, the two friends relationship becomes complicated by external forces.
Warnings: Death of family members
Master list
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Before Bradley could even unpack his own bag, he was already packing two boxes. One full of y/n’s things, and one full of Mandy’s. 
Bradley had thrown Mandy’s things carelessly into the box. Wrinkling the clothes and not caring whether the pictures and notes crinkled or not. 
Bradley made sure y/n’s things had been freshly washed and neatly folded. There were significantly more of y/n’s things than Mandy’s. Feminine hygiene products, a half empty bag of her favorite candy, even bits and pieces of an old Halloween costume. 
A couple tears slid down Bradley’s face that he quickly wiped away as he looked at the picture that used to live on his desk before Mandy made him get rid of it. It was a framed picture of y/n and Bradley after playing a game of paintball. Both covered in different colored splotches that muraled their torsos and faces. That was Bradley’s favorite memory. It was one of the only times that he didn’t let her win, she simply was better at paintball than him. But that secret he would take to his grave. 
A soft knock in the doorway drew Bradley’s 
attention away from the photo and he now looked into his mothers sympathetic eyes.
“I messed up mom.” Bradley admitted through a tightened voice, keeping down the emotions. 
“With Mandy?”  
Bradley bit his lip to keep down the emotion that was threatening to explode from inside of him as he shook his head, unable to take his eyes off the picture. 
Carole made her way over to the bed and sat down next to Bradley. She brought her only son into her side and rested her head on top of his, stroking his shoulder gently. 
“You guys are so close, I’m positive you can talk it out.” She tried her best to advise her son. Bradley brought his hand up to his face and wiped away a stray tear, sniffling his nose. 
“It’s better if I don’t after the way I treated her. I don’t deserve to be her friend, she’s too good for me.” Bradley’s heart felt like it was shattering. Leaving y/n behind for her own good was ten times harder than leaving Mandy for his own good. 
It wasn’t until Bradley saw Dylan dance so intimately with y/n that he realized he was in love with her. The jealousy he felt in that moment was unlike anything he had felt before. He was nearly blind with rage when he shut himself in the master bedroom. It took every ounce of strength in him not to knock Dylan out. 
“I don’t think that’s true.” Carole tried to soothe her son. “Now, she didn’t deserve how your girlfriend treated her.” There was a clear distaste to Carole’s voice that Bradley had picked up on. He pulled back from his mom and looked up at her with a guilty expression. 
“You heard?” 
Carole hummed in agreement. “With my own ears. Y/n stopped me from telling you because she didn’t want to ruin your happiness.” 
Bradley felt a heavy weight tug on his heart. It felt like an elephant standing on a tightrope, the tethers threatening to snap at any moment. 
“I’m sorry I ever brought Mandy around either of you.” 
Carole chuckled a little and shook her head. 
“She’s gone now, that’s all that matters. You live and learn, my love.” 
Bradley gave his mother a half-hearted smile before putting the picture face down on his bedside table and he picked up the box with Mandy’s stuff in it. 
“Would you mind taking the other box and just putting it by the front door? Y/n is coming later to grab it.” 
Carole gave her son a saddened expression. “It’s not too late to fix it, hon.” 
“It is now.” Bradley sighed. “I’m going to the military and she’s going to dermatology school in New York. Maybe it’s for the best that we didn't get to say goodbye, I don’t think I could have.” He admitted sorrowfully. Bradley walked to the door with the box and exited his room. 
Before Carole grabbed the box with Y/n’s things in it, she looked at the flipped over picture on his nightstand. She picked up the frame, smiling at the memory and then propping it up on its kickstand to display the image once more. 
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Bradley stared at that picture on his nightstand for hours a day it seemed. He replayed every memory and every moment with her in his head. The concentration on her face when taking a test, the peace that reflected her every time she entered a library, the way her cheeks and nose were sun kissed at the beach in Mexico. 
Bradley was completely and utterly in love with her, and he let her walk away. 
Leaping from his bed, he reached for his shoes and scrambled to put them on. He flew down the stairs and out the front door. It was the middle of the day, his mom was at work. He also knew that y/n’s father would be at work but her mother would be working from home. 
Bradley tackled the quick jog to your house with ease, making it to the driveway and traveling up. His eyes scanned up to your window, noticing the lack of decorations. What was normally a display of dream catchers and plants sunbathing, was now empty, white blinds. Bradley’s heart sank.
Taking a deep breath, Bradley knocked on the door. When nobody answered he knocked again. Only a second later did y/n’s mom open the door. Her eyes widened at the sight of him before she smiled. 
“Bradley!” She greeted him in relief. Then her face fell to concern. 
“Is everything okay?” 
“Is y/n here?” Bradley asked, not bothering to hide the desperation in his voice. Sympathy flashed across her eyes as she looked at him. This instantly confirmed his suspicions. 
“She left yesterday. She started talking to her new roommate and left early to explore the city.”  
There it went, the tether's strength couldn’t bear the weight of the elephant anymore. His heart plummeted down to his stomach at the truth of his worries. 
“I can give you the mailing address of her dorm?” Y/n’s mom suggested. 
“Or, she has a phone number now, do you want that?” 
Bradley hesitated. He wanted her phone number. He wanted the address. He wanted both. But then he thought about what would really happen. He would write her letters that he would never send. Stare at her phone number all day and never hit the call button. 
“No. That’s okay. Thank you Mrs. L/n.” 
She smiled sadly, reaching out to grip his shoulder. 
“You ever need anything you come right over, okay?” 
“Thank you.” Bradley responded quietly, truly appreciating the gesture. 
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Y/n pulled up to Bradley’s house, her heart racing. He had said he wouldn’t be there but the thought of having to face him made her heart ache. Why did it have to end like this? Y/n had hoped that they could stay friends. Maybe even visit each other during summers or spring break. 
Upon putting her car in park she noticed a very familiar motorcycle parked in the driveway. Suspicion crept under her skin as she got out, walking up to the door. Y/n reached for the handle, her hand shaking gently as she gripped the door knob and slowly pushed the front door open. 
The brown box with familiar clothing in it sat right beside the door. That box only held y/n’s attention for a moment as she heard Maverick and Carole talking in the kitchen. 
“Mav, please.” 
“Carole this is his whole life we’re talking about. He’s been dreaming about this since he was four!” 
Y/n could hear her heart in her chest, praying that it would quiet down while she slowly crept towards the kitchen doorway to listen better. Y/n plastered herself against the wall to attempt to be invisible. 
“Pete. Please, listen.” 
Y/n had never heard Carole so desperate and pleading. There was silence on the other side of the conversation before Carole continued. 
“I’m not going to be here much longer.” 
“Carole please don’t say that-“ Maverick interrupted her, his voice breaking slightly in the middle of the sentence. 
“Well it’s true. I need you to protect him. Please, he can’t end up like his dad.” 
“Bradley’s a good kid. He’s smart. Everything is much safer now than it was then.” 
There was silence when it was Carole’s turn to talk, and y/n heard a deep heavy sigh before Maverick continued. 
“Alright, I’ll think of something.” 
Y/n looked back to the open door, taking that as her cue to announce her entrance. She quietly tip-toed back over to the box and picked it up, shutting the door loudly to pretend she had just walked in. 
“Bradley?” Carole asked into the house. 
“Nope.” Y/n responded with a shaky, nervous breath. 
Carole and Maverick both rounded the kitchen door, Carole looking at her sympathetically while Maverick tucked his hands into his pockets. 
Setting the box down, y/n was engulfed in a hug by Carole. The tension in the air was thick. None of them dared bring up the reason that y/n had come in the first place. 
“So,” Carole began. “When do you go to New York?” 
“Two weeks.” Y/n responded with excitement. She was ready to move to the big city and start her new life. This was going to be a good change for her. A nice chance to reset all the emotions.  
“Here.” Maverick caught the two women's attention as he moved to dig around in his backpack that he had tossed in the entryway. A pink envelope with y/n’s name written neatly on the outside was handed to her. 
“Congrats on graduating.” 
Y/n’s heart swelled as a warm smile spread across her face. She took the car and put it carefully on top of the neatly folded clothes in her box. 
“Thank you Maverick. You didn’t have to do that.” 
“Of course I did. I know how expensive New York is. Now, come here.” 
Maverick extended his arms out to y/n and she stepped into his embrace. She was met with a tight squeeze and a ruffling of her hair by Mavericks knuckles. 
Y/n looked between the two of them, suddenly feeling the awkwardness lacing over the air. She took in her bottom lip and picked up the box. 
“Well, I’m off.” 
Carole’s face was smiling, but it was a sad smile. Y/n would miss this woman that became such an impactful character in her life. She didn’t know how she would handle not seeing this woman every week. 
“Good luck y/n.” 
“We’ll be rooting for you.” Maverick brought his hand up to his forehead in a lazy salute. Y/n reciprocated the lazy salute back before turning on her heel and leaving Bradley’s house for the last time. 
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Y/n had come home for the summer, and she couldn’t be more content. New York was amazing, everything she imagined and more in fact. She spent a lot of free time seeing shows on Broadway and getting food at unholy hours of the night. The city that never sleeps was indeed a fitting name. 
But now being back in her small hometown in SoCal, the quiet was something she never thought she would miss. There was no shouting, no car horns or sirens going off. Only the sounds of the birds fluttering by and the wind chimes making melodic tunes in the warm summer breeze. 
Both of y/n’s parents were at work so she was home alone on a hot, late may afternoon. Though, the window was still open and letting in a draft. Yet another thing she found difficult to do in New York. One of her favorite books was laying in her lap as she read lazily in the sun cascading into the living room. 
A knock at the door caught her attention. Y/n furrowed her eyebrows while finishing the paragraph before marking her page. She walked to the door, opening it to stare at a familiar face on the other side of the glass. 
Bradley’s face was purely shocked, jaw gaping and eyes wide. Y/n’s heart thundered in her chest as she was at a loss for words. Her eyes scanned Bradley’s face. He got tan, very tan in the summer sun. But his eyes were still red and puffy, almost like he had been crying. 
“What did you get home?” The waver in his voice only confirmed the suspicion. Y/n’s heart broke. She couldn’t remember a time she had actually seen Bradley cry. Everything that happened in the past year went out the window. Ignoring the promise she made to herself that she would hate him forever. She knew it was impossible. 
Y/n pushed the glass door open and grabbed Bradley’s hand and drug him into the house. 
“What’s wrong?” She demanded. 
Bradley did as he was told, getting pulled into her house willingly. Y/n shut and locked the door before turning to face him. Bradley had his bottom lip in his mouth looking at the floor. 
“My dad..” his voice cracked at the quiet, pitiful words that he spoke. 
Y/n’s head whipped to the calendar on the wall and she squinted. Her heart sank out of her chest upon realizing the date. His dads birthday. 
Instantly, her arms were around him. And like a magnet his arms were around her impossibly quick. Y/n sighed and sank into the warm embrace and smell that she missed so desperately. 
Bradley’s head slumped to her shoulder as his cries grew into sobs. Sobs that raked through his body and shook his breathing. Y/n held on, squeezing him tighter by the moment and rubbing circles on his back. 
Bradley pulled back from her embrace, face red and tear stained. He grabbed y/n’s hand and led them over to the couch where they sat down. Y/n was confused by this action, and wondered why he had moved their location. 
His brown eyes glossed over with tears met hers. She searched for any indication of what this meant. He looked like he was trying to choke out words but nothing was leaving the captivity of his vocal cords. Y/n squeezed his hand tightly, reassuring him it was okay. 
“My mom died a month ago.” 
Y/n’s face fell into shock. A hand covered her mouth and she could already feel the emotion rising to her throat. 
“Her cancer got too bad too fast. I told your mom not to tell you because I knew you would drop everything and come back.” 
And Bradley was exactly right. She would have dropped everything and taken the first flight back to California. A new emotion rose into her mind. Guilt. She should have been there for him, should have picked up the damn phone and called. 
Tears streamed down her face in addition to Bradley’s new ones also flowing. Bradley looked down at their intertwined hands, a thumb running over the tops of her knuckles. 
“This is his first birthday without her.” His voice was gentle, fragile, hardly even a whisper. 
The emotions she was trying to keep inside were now too strong. Y/n practically leapt into Bradley’s arms to consume him in a hug. Half for his comfort, and half for hers. Bradley’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist as she sat half on his leg and half on the couch. 
“B, I’m so sorry.” Y/n whispered through her own pains tearing through her body at the moment. 
Bradley curled his head into the nape of her neck, taking a tighter grip on her body to press against his own. 
“I’m so happy you were here.” He whispered. Y/n felt his tears dropping down into her shirt as she was certain that hers were doing the same. 
Y/n savored the way that their bodies fit together. Perfectly, she thought. Like two puzzle pieces that were made for one another. The pain in her heart over the news of Carole’s death was paired with a new pain. Heartbreak. Heart broken because she realized that the miles and miles of distance did nothing to her emotions. Heart broken because she was still in love with Bradley Bradshaw.
Finally, all she managed to mutter into his skin was; 
“Me too.”
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smaptain-smerica · 1 year
Text
Beauty School Dropout - Part IV
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Female!Reader
Summary: When Bradley is called back to Top Gun, he is reunited with a long lost friend from high school. Through their strenuous time leading up to the mission, the two friends relationship becomes complicated by external forces.
Warnings: Cursing, sexual innuendo
Master list
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A/N: I have decided to change the present setting of the story to first person, and any flashbacks will still be in third person.
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The pilots returned back to the base one by one after they had enough drinking and fun. I was one of the first ones to leave, the first thing I wanted to do was shower.
I rummaged through my clothes and picked out a random combination consisting of an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts, and wandered my way to the showers. As the hot water hit my back, I thought about the last time I had seen Bradley. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure how to react when I saw him. I hadn’t seen him since that trip to Mexico our senior year. I was relieved when he was happy to see me, though I still harbored some ill feelings that he never tried to contact me after all these years. 
My mind traveled to the last time I saw Maverick. I was coming home from that trip and had to go over to Bradley’s house and get my stuff. I thought back to a conversation I overheard between Maverick and Carole. As I was trying to scramble in my mind for the words, a loud bang drew me from my thoughts. 
Male voices echoed into that bathroom that startled me a bit. Though the actual restrooms and shower were separate from the men, there was a communal sink room. Though I knew they wouldn’t come into the showers where I was, it still made me panic. 
I walked back to my room while drying my hair, getting to the door and opening it when a voice caught my attention. 
“Y/n.” 
I turned around and saw Bradley standing there, I gave him a gentle smile. 
“Hey B.” I responded back gently. I watched his eyes travel down my body and back up. I suddenly felt bashful, embarrassed even. He smiled at me once he returned his gaze to my eyes. 
“That’s mine.” 
I furrowed my eyebrows together, looking down at the towel in my hands and holding it towards him, questioning thoughts lacing my brain. 
Bradley let out a low laugh and shook his head. “Not the towel, my shirt. That’s my shirt.” 
I looked down at the Van Halen shirt that I had kept over the years. Truth be told, it reminded me of Bradley every single time I put it on. I hadn’t even realized that was the shirt I put on because I was in such a rush to get to the bathroom. 
“Well I’ll be damned.” I pretended to be astonished, which caused them to both share a chuckle. 
“I can’t believe you kept it all this time.” 
“Of course, vintage Van Halen t-shirts go for a lot now.” I teased him, leaning against the doorway. 
“Vintage? That sure makes me feel old.” He chuckled before a saddened expression suddenly waved across Bradley’s face as he looked down at his feet. “It’s been a long time.” He spoke with a gentle voice, a voice I had only heard one other time, that day of his Dad’s birthday. 
The words stung my heart. All these years he could have reached out, could have stayed in contact with me. He could have done things differently on our final blow out. I suppose I could have too. I could have reached out too. But my emotions got the better of me before I thought deeper. 
“Yeah? Whose fault is that?” 
I turned around to head back into my room when a strong hand caught my bicep. 
“Y/n,” Bradley said rather sternly. I turned around to look at him and raised an eyebrow as a warning to let me go. Bradley looked up and down the hallway quickly before pushing us both into my room and shutting the door. 
“Bradley you can’t-“ 
“No, hush.” Bradley insisted, pushing me back to sit down on my bed. 
“I’m serious we could get in tro-“ Bradley interrupted my sentence by pressing a finger to my lips. I was astonished that he had the nerve to do that to me. 
“Before you kill me,” he hesitantly removed his finger from my face and slowly got down, one knee at a time. 
“What are you doing?” I asked, scared for what was to come next. 
“Vanity. I am sorry for everything. Will you please, please forgive me.” 
There he was, my childhood best friend, who I was in love with, on his knees, apologizing. Begging for my forgiveness. The same way he begged me to go on that trip with him all those years ago. I remembered that feeling the same as I was now. The same impure thoughts about what else he’d do on his knees for me. 
I smirked a little, an idea popping into my head. 
“On one condition.” 
Bradley dramatically folded his hands together and shook them towards me. “Anything.” 
“Dinner.” 
“Dinner?” 
I nodded my head with a smile. 
“Dinner, and you’re buying. Gives us a proper catch up.” 
Bradley unfolded his hands and held them out wide at his sides.
“That’s it?” He asked suspiciously. 
“That’s it.” I nodded with confirmation. 
Bradley rose to his feet, gesturing his hand out to me to help me up. I took it, standing as he pulled me up and to my feet. 
“Thank you.” He said to me sincerely. I responded by pulling him into a hug, burying my head into the familiar smell of his musk. Bradley rested his hands on my upper back and squeezed me against him. He rested his head on top of mine and let out a sigh. 
“I’ve missed you.” He said sullenly. 
“I’ve missed you, too.” 
We pulled away from our hug and I looked up at him with a smile. I noticed his soft brown eyes had tears lining the bottom of them. 
“Are you crying?” I remarked, pushing away from him. 
“No, and if you ever tell anybody I’ll suffocate you!” Bradley jokingly grabbed me by the waist and lifted me into the air. He squeezed me so tightly I actually felt the air leaving my lungs. I still laughed the entire way through it. 
“Okay I won’t tell!” I choked out in between laughter. Bradley set me down with a laugh and we continued to walk towards the door. I opened it and let him pass through. 
Bradley looked at me, an expression of fondness on his face as he looked me in the eyes. “You’re too good for me.” 
I took my bottom lip into my mouth, containing myself from smiling like a complete idiot. 
“I know.” 
“I’ll have to get back to you on dinner. But soon, I promise.” Bradley held out his pinky finger to me. I looked down at it with a smile before taking it in my hand with my own pinky. 
“You can’t break that now.” 
“I won’t.” 
“Goodnight, Rooster.” 
“Goodnight, Vanity.” 
I watched Bradley walk down the hallway, shamelessly memorizing which door he stepped into in case I wanted to find it later. 
Motion in my peripheral caught my eye and I looked the opposite way down the hallway at Bob. He had on a pair of long basketball shorts and a shirt that looked way too big for him. He smiled a little at me as he passed. 
“Goodnight Bob.” I casually said in passing. 
Bob looked at me with wide and happy eyes. His eyes then shifted to confusion as he pointed to the door number next to the left side of my head. 
“Is this your room?” He asked. 
I twisted my face up in confusion, looking at the empty room behind me. 
“Yeah, why?” I asked. 
Bob looked at me for a moment, then shaking his head and waving his hand. 
“No reason, I thought it was somebody else’s. Goodnight, Vanity.” After bidding me goodnight, he hurried off quickly. 
Confused, I turned on my heel and shut the door behind me. 
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“Attention on deck!”
The pilots in the room stood in attention at the entrance of Admiral Warlock. I glanced over from where I sat at Bradley’s right. 
“Morning.” Warlock gave everyone a tight lipped smile and nodded. 
“Welcome to your special training detachment. Be seated.” 
All the pilots took their chairs. As Bradley looked behind him to find his chair his eyes met mine, giving me a gentle smile. I reciprocated it, reveling in the view in front of me. Something I never thought I’d see again. 
“I’m Admiral Bates, NAWDC commander. You’re all top gun graduates. The elite. The best of the best. That was yesterday. The enemy’s new fifth-generation fighter has leveled the playing field. Details are few, but you can be sure we no longer possess the technological advantage. Success, now more than ever, comes down to the man or woman in the box. Half of you will make the cut. One of you will be named mission leader. The other half will remain in reserve.”
“Your instructor is a top gun graduate with real-world experience in every mission aspect you will be expected to master. His exploits are legendary. And he’s considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. What he has to teach you may very well mean the difference between life and death.” 
I heard footsteps behind me walking up the aisle. I turned around to look, excitement washing over me at the sight of an old friend.
“I give you captain Pete Mitchell. Call sign: ‘Maverick.’”
“Good morning.”
Maverick surveyed the pilots in front of him, his gaze lingering on Bradley. I noticed Bradley stir in his chair. I looked over at him, his expression twisting in distaste. I figured his reaction would have been the opposite, I thought he’d be excited to see Mav. 
“The f-18 natops. It contains everything they want you to know about your aircraft. I’m assuming you know the book inside and out.”
“Damn right.”
“Damn straight.”
“You got it.”
“So does your enemy.” Maverick smirked at counter to his own question. Still cocky as ever I see.
“But what the enemy doesn’t know is your limits. I intend to find them, test them, push beyond. Today we’ll start with what you only think you know. You show me what you’re made of.”
The pilots were dismissed to go and get ready for their flights. Up first was Rooster, Fanboy and Payback. We walked out onto the tarmac toward our planes. My stride fell in time with his as I looked up at him through the sunglasses. 
“You okay B?” 
“Yeah.” He responded, giving me a tight lipped smile. 
“Good luck today.” 
“You too.” I said quietly, breaking off and going towards my plane to prep it. 
My plane was next to Hangmans. I glanced in his direction, noticing that he was intensely staring toward the aisle of the planes. I followed his gaze, noticing Maverick and Bradley caught up in an intense conversation. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. 
“Do you know anything about them?” Hangman asked me. I looked over at him with eyebrows raised. I shrugged my shoulders. 
“He was around a little during the time I knew him. They’ve always been close as far as I knew.” I explained. 
“Huh.” Hangman said with a little chuckle before turning on his heel to head to the rec room. 
I did the same, confusion clouding my brain as I tried to think about what might have been wrong. Then it hit me, hit me like a train. The conversation I overheard between Carole and Maverick. Guilt suddenly washed over me. I had carried this information with me my entire life. I completely forgot about it when I stopped seeing Bradley regularly. I don’t know what ever became of that, but it had to have something to do with whatever tension was obviously between the two. 
I opened the door to the rec room and saw a couple of the other pilots playing pool, a couple others gathered around the radio. I found the mini fridge and grabbed myself a bottle of water, taking a seat on the couch. I looked out the window at the tarmac below before looking to the sky. I could hardly see the two planes in the sky, tiny little dots in my field of vision. 
The couch next to me shifted. I looked over to see Hangman had plopped down and made himself comfortable on the couch. He looked over at me and smiled. “How are you?” He asked. 
“I was better before you got here.” I replied back sassily. 
Hangman fake pouted and put his hand over his heart. “Oh you don’t mean that.”
“Yes I do. I hate you.” I replied back before returning my gaze out the window. Hangman’s presence leaned over my shoulder and whispered in my ear. 
“That’s not what I thought two nights ago.” He almost growled. 
I shifted my weight back to put space between the two of us, my face most definitely displaying disgust. I punched him lightly in the shoulder. 
“That’s disgusting. Never say that again.” 
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I was a decent pilot. Obviously, I graduated from top gun. I could hold my own. But up there in the sky today was a whole different story. Maverick’s skill was a different kind of level I didn’t even know existed. Warlock was right, he is the best pilot. 
Grateful to be rid of the sweaty bowl on my head and back in the air conditioning, I made my way back to the rec room. I opened the door, defeat following suit as I threw myself onto the floor. 
“You good, Vanity?” Payback asked, leaning over from his spot on the couch to look at me on the floor. I met his gaze, giving him a small smile. 
“Five more minutes, mom!” I exaggeratingly wined. This caused the room to fill with laughter. 
From my spot on the floor I could hear Hangman's smug voice trying to psych Bradley out. 
‘What’s the story with you and Maverick? It seems like he’s got you rattled.’
‘That’s none of your business.’ Bradley snapped back. ‘Now where the hell is he?’
‘Been here the whole time.’ 
I heard Bradley cuss, I immediately jumped up to look out the window to try and see what was going on. I couldn’t see anything, they were too far into the training grounds to be spotted from the building. 
‘Come on, let’s get it over with.’ That was Maverick. His voice sounded like he was anticipating this flight, like he had been waiting for something to happen and this was the moment. Though he didn’t sound excited about it, more eager to be done with it. 
‘Fight’s on!’ Bradley shouted. 
I knew the exact face Hangman made when saying this sentence, sucking his tongue on his top teeth and shaking his head.
‘What is with these two?’ 
Now was one of the times I desperately wished that I could see what was happening. By now, everyone had gathered around the radio to listen to the situation that Maverick and Bradley put themselves in. My heart dropped to my stomach at Hangman's announcement of them hitting the hard deck. I heard the familiar automated woman telling both of them to pull up. My heart was racing, I’m certain a look of horror was plastered on my face. 
The round ended with Bradley getting shot down first. He had returned back to the tarmac for his push-ups. I watched him out the window, counting his push ups as he did them. He was over 200 now, I could tell from here he was pushing himself out of frustration. I needed to make sure he was okay. 
I exited the building just in time to see hondo leave. Bradley did a few more pushups with trembling arms before collapsing onto his hands and knees. He rotated his body to sit down on his rear end, looking up at me as I approached. 
“Are you thick in the head?” I demanded angrily. 
“Naturally.” He grumbled back, looking down at the pavement below him. 
I knelt down to his level, placing a hand on his shoulder to catch his attention. 
“What happened out there?” 
“Don’t worry about it.” 
“No.” I said very sternly, now sitting down fully next to him. 
“You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to beg me to forgive you then not tell me what’s going on. Ever since the briefing this morning something’s been off with you.” 
“He pulled my papers.” 
I asked who, though I already knew the answer to that. 
“Maverick pulled my application to the naval academy. He set me back four years.” 
I knew it. I was right. This definitely had something to do with that conversation I overheard. Guilt came onto me again. Should I tell him? Is it my place to tell him? Would that change things between him and Maverick? I had just gotten him back, what if that changed things between us? Before I could let my mind fall into even more of a spiral, Bradley stood up, offering a hand down to me. 
“Come on. We both need to shower. You stink.” Bradley have me a crooked smile in an effort to lighten the conversation. 
I grabbed his hand and let him pull me upright. 
“Hey, at least I somehow managed to avoid doing 200 pushups.” 
Bradley slugged an arm over my shoulder as we walked and scoffed a little. "200, I did over 400 today!” 
I looked up at him with a devious smirk. 
“Guess that tells us who the better pilot is.” 
Bradley’s mouth gaped open a little in shock. He then grabbed my head and smashed it into his sweaty, smelly armpit. I struggled against his hold on me, pushing with all my might. 
“Ew, let go!” 
My friend listened, releasing me from his grasp as we shared a laugh.
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smaptain-smerica · 1 year
Text
Beauty School Dropout - Part III
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Female!Reader
Summary: When Bradley is called back to Top Gun, he is reunited with a long lost friend from high school. Through their strenuous time leading up to the mission, the two friends relationship becomes complicated by external forces.
Warnings: cursing/foul language, sexual innuendo
Master list
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“And then you’ll want to press the C key.” Bradley explained to y/n where he sat next to her on the piano bench. Y/n surveyed the keys before pressing on one, looking to Bradley for approval. 
“Close,” Bradley chuckled. He grabbed her hand with her pointer finger still extended and then moved it to the correct key. 
“That’s a C.” 
Y/n smiled and turned her attention to her friend. “When did you learn so much about music?” She asked. Bradley smiled at her before reaching up and grabbing a picture frame off the top of the piano. He handed it over to her. Y/n took the picture in her hands, it was a picture of Bradley as a young child and his dad. 
“I have been in piano lessons since I was 8, I learned how to play this song for my moms birthday.” Bradley explained. 
Y/n looked down at the picture of Bradley and his father and smiled. He was such an adorable kid. 
“I bet she loved that.” Y/n hummed. 
“Oh I did.” A third voice joined the conversation as Bradley’s mother came out of the kitchen with two glasses in her hands for the kids. 
“Hey Carole!” Y/n chirped excitedly as the woman handed her a glass. Y/n was confident that Carole made the best sweet tea in the whole world. 
Carole walked over to Bradley and placed a kiss on top of his head and then moved to Y/n, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in a side hug. 
“That was my favorite birthday.” 
“You cried like a baby.” Bradley chuckled before taking a drink of the tea. 
“You hush.” Carole pointed an accusing finger at him which caused us all to laugh. Carole exited the room and that left y/n and Bradley alone again. 
“Alright let’s try it slowly.” 
The two put their fingers on the keys and began to play their separate parts slowly. Y/n did well in the beginning, slowly picking up speed. That was until she hit the wrong key, a very wrong key. 
Bradley and Y/n burst into laughter over the piano, leaning into each other for support. Suddenly, the door swung open and a woman’s voice called out Bradley’s name. Anybody entering the home could see the piano in the living room from the front door. But y/n instantly knew that it was Bradley’s girlfriend just by the sound of her voice. She looked over at her, seeing that her face was covered in anger as she nearly slammed the door behind her. 
Bradley noticed too, he grumbled a curse word under his breath that only y/n could hear before standing up to greet his girlfriend. 
“Mandy! Hey babe.” Bradley jogged over to his girlfriend to kiss her but she pushed him away. 
“Are you kidding me?” She nearly yelled. “We have senior pictures in 30 minutes and you’re not even dressed!” 
Bradley frantically looked at the time and then ran his hands through his hair. “Shit I completely lost track of time. I’ll go get dressed, be right back.” 
Bradley rushed up the stairs leaving y/n sitting on the piano bench with Mandy staring daggers at her. 
“Hey Mandy.” Y/n tried with formalities, waving her hand at Mandy. Mandy gave her a dirty look that paired with an eye roll. 
“I don’t even know why you’re still around.” 
Y/n rose to her feet, shock flooding over her. “Excuse me?” She challenged. 
A disgusted frown spread across Mandy’s face. “I told Bradley to kick you to the curb, he didn’t need you anymore. But you’re still here, in his house even.” 
Mandy and Y/n haven’t gotten along from the start. Mandy managed to join them at the lunch table, consuming the entirety of the conversations. Mandy even stole y/n’s seat next to Bradley in Chemistry, forcing y/n to sit across the room. Y/n knew she was saying all kinds of shit behind her back to Bradley, but nothing between the two friends ever chanced. He still made time for both of them. His girlfriend more than her, but Y/n understood that. 
Y/n crossed her arms over her chest. 
“Well why am I still here then, hm?” She asked, raising her eyebrows expectedly. Mandy seemed to get flustered, her mouth opening but no words came stumbling out, then she spat;
“Stay away from Bradley, you bitch.” 
Y/n was about to clap back when Carole stepped into the room, a smile on her face. 
“Y/n, you mind helping me with dinner? It’s my family’s turn to cook after all.” Carole’s eyes glanced at Mandy and then back at me. Her expression was hard to read, but something was going on behind her eyes. 
“Of course, Carole.” 
Y/n followed Carole to the kitchen, quickly noticing that there were no food items or even dishes out on the counters. Y/n stood on the opposite side of the kitchen island that Carole was on as she braced herself against the surface. 
“I cannot believe she just said that to you.” Carole was angry, her face clearly showed it as she dug her nails into the solid surface of the counter, causing them to just slide into her palms. 
Y/n scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. 
“I can. She’s been trying to get rid of me from the start. That’s the tamest thing she’s said to me.” 
Carole’s face dropped into disbelief as she looked at y/n. She threw her hands up into the air and took a step towards the kitchen door. 
“That’s it. I’m telling Bradley.” 
“No!” Y/n jumped in front of Carole and stopped her in her tracks. 
“Don’t tell Bradley, please.” 
“Why not?” 
“Because he’s so happy, I don’t want to be the reason that’s ruined for him. Plus it’s been like this for 5 months now and no matter how hard she’s tried, I’m still here.” 
A wide smile grew on Carole’s face as she grabbed y/n’s face with her hands. She squeezed her cheeks gently before saying;
“You’re too good for him.” 
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Graduation day was a grand day. It’s impossible to recreate that feeling of freedom and accomplishment after walking across that stage. 
Until y/n met Bradley, she hadn’t had an idea on how that day would go. She imagined that she would graduate and then immediately sign up for summer classes and get on with her new journey to becoming a doctor. That was until Bradley begged her (quite literally, on his knees begged.) to take a trip with them. Eventually, she gave in. 
Y/n loved Bradley. She grew to love him over the last few years of knowing him. Every moment they spent together was the best of her life. Every memory she had she clung on to. There were times she thought about admitting it. Times when they were alone in the car driving home from a 1 am ice cream trip. Times when y/n was crying at a children’s movie and Bradley hugged her while laughing.
But her late night thoughts turned into fears and worries. Just the thought of not being around him hurt her heart, and they weren’t even together in that way. That hurt on top of being heartbroken was something she didn’t think she could survive. So staying friends was the only option. 
Although, y/n couldn’t help the jealousy that flared up in her chest when Bradley had chosen his girlfriend Mandy to walk with at graduation rather than her. Y/n was walking with another friend of hers she had met in her anatomy class. They had become close, but not as close as her and Bradley had been. 
She glanced at Bradley holding Mandy’s hand in the pews of the church they were graduating in. That hurt in her heart grew until her attention was drawn away by Bradley looking over at her. His graduation cap was crooked as he gave y/n a lopsided smile. 
Y/n couldn’t help but smile back as she reached a hand up and tipped the cap to the side so it was now straight. Bradley mouthed ‘thank you’ while putting a hand on her knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. As quickly as his hand was there it was gone, and the space went cold. 
They stood, walked, and graduated. The ceremonial cap throwing was the final send off before the graduates were dismissed to gather their things and meet their families. Y/n watched as Mandy ran into Bradley’s arms and they spun around and kissed. She didn’t know whether to walk up there to meet them or avoid them entirely. She decided to go with avoidance. 
Y/n wanted to see her parents, she left the doors of the church and swam through the sea of hugs and congratulations. Finally she spotted her dads head sticking out from above the crowd. Even in a button down shirt and jeans he still had on a mesh backed hat. 
“Dad!” Y/n ran up and jumped into his arms. 
“I’m so proud of you, sweetie.” He said before putting her down and y/n moved over to her mom. 
“You did it!” Her mom squeaked while squeezing the air out of y/n’s lungs. 
Another person joined the mix, running up to them with her arms out wide. 
“Y/n you did it!” Carole exclaimed while nearly tackling y/n in a hug and squeezing her tightly. 
“I know I know!” Y/n laughed after hearing it for a second time. She pulled back from the hug from Bradley’s mom just in time to see Bradley and Mandy parting ways, Mandy looked at y/n with pure hatred. Just that look alone was satisfying. 
“Why’d you run away?” Bradley asked, slugging an arm over her shoulder and squeezing her gently in a side hug.  
“I had to see my parents.” Y/n defended as she rested her shoulder gently on Bradley’s shoulder. 
“I am so happy for you two.” Carole could hardly contain her happiness as she engulfed us both in a hug. 
Y/n’s dad reached a hand out to Bradley that he clasped back. 
“Congratulations kid.” He said to Bradley. 
Y/n could tell her dad was trying to remain tough and stoic, but that quickly broke when he pulled Bradley’s arm towards him and gave him a hug. Bradley mumbled “thank you for everything.” into his chest. Y/n’s dad responded back with. “Of course.” Before the two of them pulled back. 
“So, what’s on the schedule next?” Y/n’s mom asked the two friends. Y/n and Bradley looked at each other, their response was the same but their enthusiasm about the topic was opposite. Bradley spoke with excitement while Y/n, dread. 
“Mexico.”
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Mexico seemed like a fantastic idea for a senior trip at the time. The legal drinking age was 18 and everything else was relatively inexpensive. The thing that cost the most was the condo that they had rented for 5 days. The people who went were Y/n, Bradley, Mandy, a couple of Bradley’s friends from baseball, Marcus and Dylan, and Y/n’s friend from her anatomy class, Sarah. 
Night three, after going out for drinks, everybody had come back to the condo to drink some more. Sarah and Marcus had been flirting all night long. The second they came back to the condo, they ran for a bedroom, hand in hand, and locked the door. It was obvious what was going to happen. Music was playing softly on the speakers in the living room while Bradley and Dylan talked and laughed. Mandy was quiet, she refused to talk to Y/n which left Y/n bored. 
An idea floated into Y/n’s brain, something she hadn’t done in a while. She stood, walking to the speaker and turning up the music. She strolled back to the middle of the living room with all eyes on her. She began dancing with herself, drink in hand. Y/n pointed to Bradley and then made a motion with her finger for him to join her. Bradley looked like he was going to get up but received a glare from Mandy, which caused him to stay seated. 
Dylan didn’t hesitate for a second, he stood up and grabbed Y/n’s hand and spun her in a circle. Dylan wasn’t unattractive by any means. He has sandy blonde hair with curls that fell just above his cheekbones and eyes so blue and green that they looked gray in the dim condo lighting. The two waltzed around the living room to whatever popular song was playing. Drunken singing voices of the two dancing bounced around the room and Dylan wrapped an arm around Y/n’s waist and dipped her down. To Y/n’s surprise, her back hit the hard floor.
Dylan burst out in laughter and knelt down. “Are you alright?” He asked. 
Y/n herself was laughing hysterically as she sat up. “I didn’t spill my drink!”
Dylan and Y/n laughed again, only for it to be interrupted by the sound of a door slamming. She looked towards the master bedroom door just in time to see Mandy storming after him and trying to open the locked door. “Bradley, open this door right now!” She screamed, pounding on the door. 
Sarah and Marcus came stumbling down the hallway, their clothes halfway on. “What’s happening?” Sarah asked. 
“You!” Mandy yelled, pointing an accusing finger in y/n’s direction. “Why do you insist on ruining my relationship? Why couldn’t you have just left. He doesn't need you anymore! He has me!” 
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Y/n stood to her feet, her drunken mind starting to sober in order to understand why she was being yelled at. 
“I don’t know why you refuse to leave after all the times Bradley has told you to get out of his life.”
Y/n was flabbergasted, this was the first time that she was hearing any of this information.
“Bradley has never told me that.” She defended herself. 
Rage clouded over Mandy’s eyes as she stepped closer to Y/n, her teeth almost bared and a snarl coming from her mouth, or maybe that was the alcohol. Before she had any time to react, Mandy’s fist connected with Y/n’s face. As though it were her second nature, Y/n swung back harder, knocking Mandy to the ground. Marcus and Dylan jumped into action, Dylan grabbed Y/n and pulled her back, Marcus doing the same thing. 
Y/n felt something wet on her lips. She licked them, tasting the familiar tang of blood before completely wiping it away with her hand. The commotion brough Bradley out of the room and he looked between the two of them. “What the fuck happened?” He asked, immediately running to Mandy’s side and helping her up. She was crying, her lip busted open and bleeding as she looked back at Y/n. “She came after me and hit me!”
“You lying bitch! You fucking hit me!” Y/n felt rage boiling up inside of her at the false accusation. 
Bradley stormed up to y/n and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her to the patio outside and shutting the door. “What the hell Y/n?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You hit my girlfriend.” He growled. 
“She hit me first!”
“She is my girlfriend, I didn’t expect you to hit her back at all!” 
“The same girlfriend who you told you’d get rid of me?”
Bradley’s eyes widened in shock and he took a step back, which was an invitation for Y/n to step forward. “Mandy has hated me from the beginning but I’ve held it back because I didn’t want to ruin your happiness. I cannot begin to tell you the things she has said behind your back and probably to your face if you’ve told her to get rid of me.”
“Y/n-”
“But one thing I never thought you would do is immediately take her side. I thought I would at least get to explain myself.”
“Y/n. I’m sorry, I never meant any of it. I promise I wasn’t going to get rid of you.”
“But you were going to let her keep talking about me like that.”
Silence. Bradley was at a loss of words. He just stared at Y/n with his mouth gaping open. 
“Bradley, I can't do this. I’m drunk and angry so, maybe I’ll change my mind tomorrow but I can’t do this.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m done putting up with her shit. If that means you as well, so be it.”
Y/n slammed the door shut to the patio, leaving Bradley outside, alone. 
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smaptain-smerica · 1 year
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Beauty School Dropout - Part II
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Female!Reader
Summary: When Bradley is called back to Top Gun, he is reunited with a long lost friend from high school. Through their strenuous time leading up to the mission, the two friends relationship becomes complicated by external forces.
Warnings: cursing/foul language, sexual action (NO description) sexual innuendo
Master list
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When I got the call that asked me to come back to top gun, I couldn’t be more excited. Considering I already lived in California I would visit sometime. They even asked me to teach a couple classes. But coming back to fly an actual mission? It was the adrenaline rush I had been searching for.
Excitement boiled inside of me as I pulled into the parking lot and put my car in park in the pilots unloading area. I stepped out and looked up at the large building in front of me. It was illuminated by yellow lights in the dark, sunless sky. A look of satisfaction cascaded on my face.
“Lieutenant L/n!” A husky voice called from the open doors of the entrance. My attention turned to Solomon Bates, Callsign Warlock. A wide smile grew on my lips as I shut the door and began to approach him. My father died shortly after I started college, which is why I enlisted in the military. Warlock noticed early on that I was struggling emotionally with the loss and helped me through it. In a way, he had become like a father figure to me.
“Permission to hug, sir?” I asked while holding my arms out wide while we walked towards each other.
Warlock laughed, a bright smile on his face.
“Permission granted.”
We met in the middle and embraced each other, giving each other rough pats on the back. “It’s so good to see you again.” I commented enthusiastically as we pulled apart.
“I wish it were under different circumstances.” Warlock smiled, though his tone was sorrowful. I wondered what would come from this mission. His face read an entirely different emotion than that he was hiding behind his eyes.
“Come on, let’s get you unpacked.” Warlock clasped a hand on my shoulder and directed me back towards the car. Warlock explained that most of the pilots would be arriving tomorrow because of flights and traveling. Not everyone had the privilege of living stateside.
“Some of the pilots arrived earlier in the day.” Warlock explained as he tossed my bags on my bed. "Most of them will be arriving tomorrow though." He turned around to look at me, a smile on his face. “I’ll let you get settled.”
I opened my suitcase and began unloading my clothes into the small compact closet, humming my favorite song to myself. I knew I wouldn’t need many clothes, there wouldn’t be that many activities outside of flying and I assumed that their flight suits would be provided. They were nearly every time.
Once I finished with one bag, I began to move on to the next one when I heard a knock at my door. My attention was drawn to none other than Jake Seresin standing in the doorway, a smug smirk on his face. “Hey Vanity.”
A large smirk grew across my face at the sight of my old friend. “Hey hangman.” I hummed back to him, continuing to put my clothes away. Hangman stepped in the door, shutting it behind him and clicking the lock.
I heard that fate sealing noise, looking over at him with a raised eyebrow. “Really?” I questioned.
“Just in case you want to pick up where we left off.”
Going through flight school and Top Gun training with Jake Seresin was no walk in the park. Every step was bickering and head-butting and competing. Eventually the pressure built up until we both could find a release. Unfortunately, that release happened to be each other. Through our time together we fought and bickered until we couldn’t contain ourselves anymore. We broke rule after rule in order to see each other. Sneaking into each other's rooms, even meeting off campus. I wasn’t always proud of it, he was never the kind of guy I could see myself dating. But, he was handsome, and much more tolerable to be around when aroused, so I would be lying if I said she didn’t enjoy it.
“I’m glad to know you’re still the exact same.” I chuckled a little, turning around to step towards the closet but instead being blocked by Hangman's chest. My eyes traveled up and met his green ones. He always carried a smug look on his face that was present now more than ever.
“Would you be sad if I changed?” Hangman asked with the cock of an eyebrow.
I huffed out air in response. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to be a little nicer.”
"Nicer? That's all you want?" Hangman asked, allowing me room to put the articles of clothing away.
I stood on my toes to hang something up on a higher shelf. "I don't think it would hurt."
Two strong arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me back. I felt Hangman's strong chest push against the top of my back, our body heat melding into one.
"I think I'm pretty nice to you." Hangman had leaned down to whisper in her ear. I felt the gentle brush of his lips against the sensitive skin on my neck and let out a little sigh.
One more time wouldn't hurt. For old times sake.
Hangman traced small circles on my bare shoulder after we had finished. I leaned over in my bed and looked at the time, it was nearing midnight. "You should probably go."
"But won't you miss me?" Hangman asked with a teasing tone. But, he listened. Placing a kiss on my shoulder before shifting around to sit on my bed, slipping on his pants and gathering his things.
"All the pilots are meeting at the Hard Deck tomorrow night, you're coming."
"Says who?" I challenged, raising an eyebrow at Hangman as he slipped his shirt on over his head.
"Me."
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. I watched as Hangman retreated for the door, pausing to look back at me over his shoulder.
"I'll see you later."
"See you later." I responded. When Hangman opened the door I noticed him come face to face with a smaller man in the hallway, but he quickly closed the door before I could get a look at his face. I heard muffled conversation from the other side of the door and then finally decided to turn over and go to sleep.
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I arrived at The Hard Deck and opened the door. To my surprise, the bar was quite popular. There were a lot of people there already and the sun hadn’t even gone down yet. I closed the door behind me, needing a drink or two to calm my nerves and help me become more social.
Snaking my way to the bar, I found my stop next to a raven headed man. I ordered a cocktail that I liked from the gorgeous bartender and tapped my fingers nervously on the bar top.
“Y/n?” A familiar voice asked quietly. My head rotated suspiciously towards the man who sat next to me. Excitement flooded over me as I smiled.
“Maverick! What are you doing here?”
I had remembered Maverick coming to visit Bradley and his family at nearly every holiday event. He always brought one massive present for both Bradley and his mother that was the highlight of Christmas. After Bradley and I graduated he had even sent me a card congratulating me. It was always a fun time when Maverick was around. He’d take us out to eat or to ride his motorcycle (without telling the parents of course).
Maverick stood up and embraced my in a tight hug which I gratefully reciprocated back. “Look at you, you’re all grown up.” Maverick hummed in my ear as he pulled back and looked me up and down. “You’ve turned into a beautiful young woman.”
“Oh shut up, old man.” I waved my hand dismissively at Maverick and we both chuckled at the banter. The bartender returned with me drink and set it down.
“You two seem to know each other.” She commented and looked back and forth between the two of us.
“Y/n is the friend of a friend. I haven’t seen her since she started college.” Maverick explained to the woman.
“Y/n this is Penny, she owns the bar.”
“It’s nice to meet you Penny.” I took over Introducing myself. Before I could ask why Maverick didn’t mention that I was Bradley’s friend, I heard my call-sign being called from across the bar.
Two handsome young pilots were flagging me over to the pool table. I immediately recognized Hangman and dismissed myself from the conversation with Maverick and made my way over to them.
“Boys.” I charmed, crossing my arms over my chest and looking between the both of them. my eyes lingered on hangman for a moment longer, thinking about the events of last night. He gave me a wink in response.
“I see you two know each other.” The other man commented with an uncomfortable smile. Hangman looked over at him and smiled brightly.
“Coyote, this is Vanity. Vanity, Coyote.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” He said politely.
“Likewise.” I responded. Hangman handed out a pool stick to me. I smirked at him and took the stick, accepting the challenge. I then proceeded to break and pocket one solid colored ball. When I was bent over the table trying to find my next shot, I heard Hangman call out.
“If it ain’t Phoenix!”
I looked up to see a shorter, dark haired woman with two guys at her flank approach. I felt relief in knowing that there was going to be another woman joining the team. One could only handle so much testosterone.
"And here I thought we were special Coyote, turns out the invite went to everyone." Hangman sneered at the woman, causing me to roll my eyes.
"I guarantee she's got more skill in her left thumb than you do in that big hollow head of yours." I snapped back, smirking at the way his face twisted slightly with anger. Phoenix looked over at me and winked as a thank you.
The two pilots bantered back and forth with each other while I finished my turn at the pool table, racking up five balls before finally missing a pocket. I was proud, probably the best I had ever done at pool.
I slipped behind Hangman and Coyote where my drink sat on a table and took a long drink from the cold beverage. The bitter taste of alcohol flowing past my tongue and down my throat, slowly warming me from the inside out.
"When did you get in?"
"Oh, I've been here the whole time."
Looking in the direction of the unfamiliar voice, I laid her eyes on a smaller man, thick glasses set on his face and a southern drawl to him. He was munching away on a cup of peanuts while looking slightly scared by the confrontation.
"The man’s a stealth pilot." Hangman said. 
"Literally." Coyote added.
"Weapons systems officer, actually."
"With no sense of humor." Hangman said in disappointment. I chuckled, thinking the exchange that just happened was amusing. After learning his name was Bob, I took my drink and strolled over to the jukebox. I slowly sipped on my drink while cycling through the song options, drowning out any other outside noises. I soon felt a presence over my shoulder, looking up and to the left at Hangman.
"Play Slow Ride."
"Play Slow Ride, what?" I snapped back sassily at Hangman's demanding request. 
He held out a new drink for me with a smile on his face. "Please?"
I couldn't help but smile and take the drink from his hand. I selected the song for him. Hangman gave me a wink before strolling away. Now I had one almost empty and one full glass in my hands that I needed to do something with. I downed the rest of my previous drink on my way back to the table, setting down the empty glass.
"Bradshaw, as I live and breathe."
"Hangman, you look... good."
Believe it or not, Bradshaw was a common name for military members. Though it would be a lie to deny that I didn't think about my old friend Bradley every time I heard it. I just didn't expect to hear his voice follow this time.
With my heart in my stomach, I pushed Hangman out of the way so he was no longer in front of the table. I looked at Bradley, whose face turned pale upon seeing me. We stared at each other for a moment. I felt every emotion on high alert, ignoring the questions from the other pilots surrounding them.
Finally, Bradley broke the tension with a large smile.
"Vanity." He said through a breath of relief.
Joy overcame me as I sprinted at Bradley full force, getting caught in his arms and hugged tightly.
"Rooster! I can't believe you're here!" I laughed
"Me?" Bradley put me down, still holding onto my shoulders and shaking me violently.
"I can't believe you're here! What happened to beauty school?"
"I dropped out!"
"And joined the military?"
"I'm a Naval Aviator now, B."
"My god, I can't believe it." Bradley wrapped his arms around me in one more tight hug before pulling away and looking back at the group before them. Embarrassment washed over me as I realized that everyone was staring at us. Hangman had a look of complete disgust on his face.
"So obviously you two know each other." Coyote commented with amusement, considering it was the same thing he said to Hangman moments earlier.
"Yes, We went to high school together." Bradley explained. Hangman looked like he wanted to argue but ultimately, gave up.
“So, does anybody know what this special detachment is all about?” Payback asked. 
“No,” Hangman chimed in, finally continuing his turn of the pool game. “Mission’s a mission. They don’t confront me. What I want to know; Who’s gonna be team leader?” Hangman pocketed a ball, adding to the cockiness radiating off of him.  “And which one of y’all has what it takes to follow me?”
“Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.” Bradley snapped back with fire in his voice. I raised my eyebrows in shock. His tone of voice was clear that there was some dislike between the two pilots. The question was, why? 
Hangman walked up to Bradley, a large smirk on his face. Hangman squared off his shoulders as an intimidation factor. “Well, anyone who follows you is just gonna run out of fuel. But that’s just you, ain’t it, Rooster? You’re snug on that perch, waiting for just the right moment… that never comes”
Bradley didn’t say anything, just let a small smile linger on his face. I was impressed with his ability to keep his cool. I would have already given him a right punch to the face. 
“I love this song.” Hangman hummed with a smile before slipping past them to continue his game. I was frustrated so I followed after Hangman, leaving Rooster and Phoenix to talk. 
“What was that about?” I demanded. 
“Nothing. Just a little intimidation.” Hangman shrugged it off as though it were no big deal. 
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms across my chest in annoyance. “Like anybody is intimidated by you.” I snapped at him. 
Hangman’s face grew a little more serious as he closed the gap between them, leaving only inches between their faces. 
“I’ve flown with him before, you haven’t seen him since high school, who really has the insight here? He’s a lost cause, this mission will only prove that.” 
Anger boiled up inside of my gut, churning slowly like butter. Before I could retaliate a bell went off in the bar, causing an eruption of cheers. Hangman's attention turned towards the bar for a moment before he smirks and looks back down at me. 
“Duty calls.” 
I watched Hangman stroll confidently towards the bar area and right up to where Maverick was sitting. My anger flaring up in me as I tried to ease my mind of all the ways I would strangle Hangman. 
Suddenly, the music cuts out. Everyone in the bar boo’s for a moment but then the piano starts to play. I knows exactly who it is. The other pilots are already over there by the time I snake my way through the crowd. Bradley looked up at me through his glasses and smiled, motioning with his head for me to sit next to him. 
I do so, leaving a space between us that Bradley willingly scoots over to close. 
“You still remember your part?” He asked. 
I smiled, looking down at the piano keys and putting them on the correct ones. I played a small tune, then looked up at Bradley for approval. I was met with an approving smile from him. “It’s music time, baby!”
Bradley and I put our fingers on the piano keys and began to play an old favorite, Great Balls of Fire. To my surprise, the whole bar erupted into song.
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smaptain-smerica · 1 year
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: {Y/n} Was at the top of her class at the Red Room Academy. Sought after for her expertise in the field by Dr. Zola, who purchased the widow for his Hydra Program. {y/n} Excelled quickly, and began teaching the new recruits using her previously taught skills. All was well until a James Barnes entered the program. His presence turned the entirety of the Hydra program on its head. Rules, hearts and trust broken time and time again.
Maturity: This book is rated mature for graphic descriptions of violence, foul language, and sexual content that may be sensitive to readers under the age of 18.
a/n: This story was originally posted on wattpad and will be updated there first. Follow there for quicker updates! https://www.wattpad.com/user/smaptin-smerica
Master List
Chapter 29
{y/n}'s POV
My heart dropped into my stomach at the sight of Bucky. My mind couldn't process exactly what I was seeing. I felt instant relief flow through my body. Instinctively I ran towards him, he took a few steps towards me until we met in a hug. I wrapped my arms around him so tightly, grateful to feel the warmth of another person.
His arms were just as tight as mine, wrapping an arm around my lower back and then bringing a hand up behind my head, holding me in a protective position. He kept me as close to him as possible to him, his head tucked into the nape of my neck. My head was in his shoulder, taking in his familiar musk. This time he smelled somewhat... salty. Like sea water.
He pulled back from the hug, resting his hands on my face. I looked up at Bucky's face, examining it. He looked older, like he had been around and seen things. "When did you cut your hair?" I attempted a joke, reaching my arms up to ruffle the shortened hair on his head. A weak smile was brought to his mouth as he grabbed my hands and took them in his own. I looked down at his left arm, furrowing my eyebrows together in confusion. I brushed my thumb across the smooth metal, unfamiliar to the one I was used to.
I removed my left hand from his right one, reaching his metal arm out so I could look at the metal arm better. I ran my hand up the smooth and cold metal. What once was silver was now black and gold, an unfamiliar texture laced within the mechanisms of the metal appendage. I looked up at Bucky, complete confusion resided within me and it was clear my confusion was expressed on my face as well.
Bucky looked sad through his weak attempt at a smile. "I need to tell you something." He told me, hardly above a whisper. My heart dropped, I had never seen him look so nervous, so hesitant to say something. He grabbed me by the shoulders, placing me down in the chair I was sat in before. He knelt down in front of me, my hands still gently caressed inside of his as he stroked his non-metal thumb across my knuckles.
"You're scaring me, soldier." I let out a nervous chuckle upon seeing him take a deep breath and lick his lips in thought, I could visibly see the gears in his mind.
"{y/n}, you've been asleep for a really long time." His blue and misty eyes met mine, anticipating my reaction.
"I don't understand what you mean, what's a long time?" Confusion still boiled inside of me. He was tip toeing around what he was trying to get at, treating me like a child with every hesitation he did to try and explain the thoughts in his mind.
"Damnit Bucky just tell me, stop avoiding it." I demanded, taking a tighter hold on his hand which he reciprocated. He bit his bottom lip tightly, looking into my eyes before he answered.
"{y/n} it's been almost 60 years. It's 2024." I started to laugh a little, not believing him. I closed my eyes and shook my head while a deep chuckle rose from within. The reality of the truth set in when I looked up at him, his face stone cold and serious. "You're lying." I demanded like I knew the entire truth.
"Sweetheart, I wish I was. Zola died in 1970, Hydra was defeated in 2014. Dreykov and the black widow program was terminated in 2016. So much has happened between then and now."
Disbelief crawled it's way through every inch of my body like spiders trying to find a home. I could feel myself getting heavier. Was this true? It surely didn't feel true. It felt like I had only been asleep for a second. How had 60 years passed? "How... how are you... how am I?"
Bucky's hands gently reached up to my face and he forced me to look at him. "I know, I know. I went through the same thing. I'm going to help you figure this out."
I stood up and pushed the chair back away from my legs dramatically, taking a step back from Bucky. I looked down at him with utter disbelief. My mind couldn't wrap around what he was telling me, I refused to believe a single word of what was coming from his mouth. This had to be some kind of test, a trick. Zola was behind that mirror watching as he forced Bucky to tell me these lies.
"No. You're lying!" For some reason I began to cry, my voice cracking as I yelled the last two words at Bucky. I could feel tightness in my throat and the familiar welling of tears in my eyes. "Zola is behind there, isn't he?" I demanded Bucky answer me, pointing my finger at the two way mirror on the wall in front of me. "This is some kind of trick. Please tell me this is some kind of trick because that's not possible. Please just tell me now, it's not funny anymore." I could feel the emotion flowing out of my eyes and down my face.
I could see the sadness on his face. He felt bad for me, which was the last thing I wanted. Bucky stood up and approached me with gentle hands outstretched. He tried to shush me, tried to talk to me but I couldn't hear him. I was brought back to reality by the cold metal feeling of his hand on the side of my face. I looked up at him, knowing my face looked at terrified as I felt. His face showed sympathy as he took me into his chest, hugging me tightly.
I felt my body shudder as I let out a sigh. This only made Bucky hold on to me tighter as we slowly collapsed back down to the floor. He held me the entire time, intertwining his fingers in my hair. The only thing I could feel were his arms wrapped around me, sheltering me from everything in the outside environment. "I'm sorry." I whispered.
"It's okay. You're okay." He whispered back into my ear.
The police-locked door slid open, drawing my attention from the situation to the new stranger. Instinctively I toughened up, sniffling away the emotions and wiping my face. "Buck? I found something."
I looked up at the darker skinned man, he was tall and muscular with a buzzed head. His shirt was grey and he wore straight cut blue jeans and some running shoes. I then looked over at Bucky who looked at me then back at the person who entered the door. He gently lifted me off the floor and guided me towards the entryway. I could feel every muscle in my body stiffen approaching the stranger. Bucky had his grip tight on my shoulder, giving me reassuring squeezes.
"{y/n}, this is Sam. Sam this is {y/n}." He introduced us. Sam held out his hand to me, an uneasy smile on his face. I hesitated, I knew that look. Bucky must have told him about me. The feeling of not knowing what I'm going to do next, like he was preparing for me to rip his arm off.
I slowly reached out my hand and took his, it was rough and callused. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Sam attempted with formalities. All I did was stare into his eyes, nodding my head hesitantly. I didn't know what to say to him, I was afraid to say anything at all.
"She's got the same staring problem as you." Sam leaned over and whispered to Bucky. Bucky gave Sam a flick on the forehead with his metal fingers, causing Sam to hiss in pain.
Bucky grabbed my shoulders and gestured for us to head out the door. We followed Sam down a series of hallways until we got to a door, it looked like another interrogation room except a computer was set up on an empty table.
"Now I'm not as good with this deep dark web stuff, but I found a something. There was an underground auction of recovered Hydra weapons and artifacts. It says here that the most expensive item was a female soldier in a Cryostasis chamber sold for over 100 million dollars." Sam explained as he walked back behind the computer and sat down at the chair.
"Let me see that." I demanded, walking over to where Sam sat. My sudden burst of confidence came from my curiosity about myself. I looked at the computer and was slightly taken back. This machine proved I was out of place. It was much smaller, but looked more complicated than the ones I had used previously.
I looked closer at the article, leaning in over sam's shoulder. I could see him slightly recoil from me, watching me out of the corner of his eye. We made eye contact for a second and I playfully lunged at him like I was going to attack. He jumped so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.
It made me chuckle, and I looked up at Bucky who was also holding back laughter through a smile. I turned my focus back to the screen and looked at the article. There was a picture of my chamber right there on the front. I didn't know what to say, I was still having trouble wrapping my head around how much time had passed.
"When am I going to stop being bought and sold?" I grumbled under my breath as I stood up straight.
"Look," Sam started "I still don't understand why she attacked you if she's immune to brainwashing."
"I attacked you?" I felt my heart drop and my gut full with guilt. I looked Bucky in the eyes and he looked back at me with the same sadness as he nodded.
"You did. You were trying to kill me." He explained.
"But I would never do that." I defended myself.
"I know." Bucky confirmed. "You were not yourself. You were speaking Russian."
I twisted my face in disgust. "Ew."
"I know."
"Okay!" Sam exclaimed. "We get it you two know each other very well. It's weird."
Bucky and I exchanged glances before turning our attention back to Sam who continued with his thought. "Somebody out there had you, and turned you into a mindless killing machine. And you have no memory of when you were under. So we need to figure out what's going on in that head of yours."
Sam was directly talking to me but also passively Bucky as he spoke. I looked at the two of them with my eyes wide. I didn't know what to do or say. I was still having a hard time wrapping my head around being awake. I was anxious to see the outside world and how much it had changed. Dreading it actually.
"We could take her to Wakanda." Bucky suggested.
"Wakanda?" Sam asked.
"Yes. They helped me there they can definitely help her."
The pair looked in my direction expectingly. I put my hands up in surrender. "Don't look at me I don't even know what a Wakanda is."
Bucky chuckled and shook his head. He held out his hand for me to take and join him. "Come on. I'll make some calls. Sam, could we stay at your place tonight?"
Sam raised an eyebrow at the two of us and then pointed an accusing finger at me. "No going crazy and killing people."
"No promises." I retorted without thinking. I felt a little bad, I didn't mean for it to come out like that. A low chuckle rose from Bucky's throat as Sam rolled his eyes and stormed out the door.
"He's a ray of sunshine." I commented.
"He's not all bad." Bucky shrugged and then turned his body to face me. He took a long time to look at my face, observing my features. My cheeks got flaming hot under his blue gaze.
"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you." Bucky said, almost in a whisper. It made me warm inside, a wide smile rising to my face.
"I still can't believe you're here." It was true, when I went under I was expecting to wake up still in Hydra.
"Me? I can't believe you're here!" Bucky exclaimed. "You don't know how many years went by I wished I could have had you with me."
I couldn't resist anymore, I pulled Bucky into a hug which he quickly returned to me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and his rested tightly around my waist. I let out a breathy sigh while taking in the familiar comfort.
Bucky was the first to pull away, which made me sad. I could have stayed like that for another 60 years. "Come on. Let's get going. Sarah is an amazing cook, you're going to love it."
"Who's Sarah? His wife?" I asked while Bucky threw his arm over my shoulder and guided us down the hallway. Bucky let out a deep belly laugh and shook his head.
"Sister actually, but I'm telling him you said that."
Next Chapter
This story will not align with the recent release of Wakanda Forever. T'challa will still be alive because I miss him.
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smaptain-smerica · 1 year
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: {Y/n} Was at the top of her class at the Red Room Academy. Sought after for her expertise in the field by Dr. Zola, who purchased the widow for his Hydra Program. {y/n} Excelled quickly, and began teaching the new recruits using her previously taught skills. All was well until a James Barnes entered the program. His presence turned the entirety of the Hydra program on its head. Rules, hearts and trust broken time and time again.
Maturity: This book is rated mature for graphic descriptions of violence, foul language, and sexual content that may be sensitive to readers under the age of 18.
a/n: This story was originally posted on wattpad and will be updated there first. Follow there for quicker updates! https://www.wattpad.com/user/smaptin-smerica
Master List
Chapter 28
Bucky's POV
September 2nd, 2024
Sam and I were walking back from the grocery store with the few ingredients that Sarah had forgotten to get in order to make dinner. The sun set on the ocean, cascading in beautiful colors along the water that sparkled like diamonds.
Visiting Sam and his family made me feel normal again, like nothing from my past had ever happened. I spend my time with the children on the docks and even learning how to sail. It's been, refreshing.
"I don't know why Sarah never makes a damn list." Sam grumbled under his breath, struggling to hold the lumpy brown paper sack. I chuckled, shaking my head at my friend. "Maybe we should have taken the car." I joked, shouldering him gently as we walked.
"Alright Barnes, you're the one with the metal arm, why aren't you carrying this?" Sam dramatically heaved the rather lightweight paper sack over into my arms. We both shared a laugh in response.
The walk back to Sam's Sisters house was a short one, but somehow it felt incredibly long. I couldn't shake this feeling in my stomach. Maybe it was just me, the fear within me and the underlying need to constantly be aware of my surroundings. I brushed off the feeling, trying to relax into the evening walk but my ears were ringing and Sam's random rambling had become quickly muffled. Why couldn't I shake this feeling? I haven't felt this way in a long time, why now?
"Hey Robo-Soldier!" I came back into my reality, out of the depths of my mind with Sam shouting in my face. I raised my eyebrows in surprise as his sudden raise in voice. "What?"
"Have you been listening to a thing I said?" Sam asked me sassily, causing me to feel a bit bashful.
"No, I'm sorry. I can't shake this feeling, like we're being watched." I admitted, taking this time to really observe my surroundings, looking at the various small buildings and the shadowy crevices in the dusky light. The sun had nearly disappeared over the water horizon, the sky getting darker fast.
Sam shook his head with a laugh. "I'm captain America and you're the man with a metal arm, surely somebody is looking at us." His attempt at a joke suddenly set me over the edge, now getting slightly upset with my friend.
"Im serious Sam. I think we're being followed."
It was as thought it were scripted. There was a sweet spot where it was dark enough outside that the streetlights didn't come on, limiting our view. I heard the familiar whiz of a weapon flying through the air. My instincts were quick, catching it centimeters before it hit my head. The blade was black, long and coming to a fine point at the end. It almost looked... familiar.
There wasn't enough time to react to the familiar feeling of the weapon in my hands. From out of the shadow of the alley, I was jumped. Strong legs wrapped around my neck which were then twisted, throwing me onto the hard ground. I groaned in pain for a minute, seeing the shadowy figure crouching in the dark. Their face was masked, dressed head to toe in black stealth gear. They pulled a small bar, flicking it open until it became a long staff with pointed spear heads on either end. The person swung it around and above their head, beginning their advancement at me.
I was quick to react, the Dora Milaje taught me well in the art of defending an attacker using a spear. We backed up out of the shadows of the alley, into the lights of the setting sun. I dodged swings left and right before finally grabbing the end of the staff with my metal arm, pausing the attack mid attempt. I could see the person's face now, feminine features and stature were evident. The only showing part of her face was captivating {e/c} eyes. She raised an eyebrow and winked, throwing me off for just a moment while she used her force to push forward. The blade of the spear grazed my cheek, stinging my face.
I stumbled back and winced at my new found pain. She advanced on me, using the opportunity to press the shaft of the spear against my neck, pinning me against a nearby building. She took a dagger out of the end of the spear, shoving it in perfectly into the circuiting systems of my metal arm, preventing me from moving it. I was astonished, staring into the cold and empty eyes of my attacker. A familiar gaze that shot daggers into my head, making my heart stop just from one simple look.
The pressure was lifted off me, watching the girl fly backwards courtesy of Sam. She rolled expertly, sliding into a standing position with the staff still in hand. She looked up, glaring at Sam. She planted the staff into the ground, using it as a support her as she sent a flying kick into Sam's chest. He was hurled backwards, hitting the wall with a loud thud.
She stood, approaching us with the staff in hand. Her mask had been knocked off in the tussle with Sam, because now I could see her face clearly. My stomach dropped, it felt like I had seen a ghost. In all honestly, I might as well have. Memories of the past came flooding into my head, memories that I pushed down years and years ago.
I reacted quickly, with a grunt I swung my legs underneath hers which caused her to drop to the ground. I drew my foot back and gave her a powerful kick which sent her flying backwards. "What the hell is this lady's problem?" Sam yelled at me, now by my side and helping me up.
"Ich bin hier, um den Wintersoldaten zu töten." (I'm here to kill the winter soldier.)
"What did she say?" Sam asked me, almost demanding. "She said winter soldier didn't she?"
"Wintersoldat ist nicht mehr hier. Er ist tot." (Winter Soldier isn't here anymore. He is dead.) I tried to reason with her. This didn't make sense, she never was susceptible to the brainwashing like me. They weren't able to program her mind like I had gotten done. I didn't think it was possible.
{Y/n} let out a quick chuckle, shaking her head in the process. I noticed her hand move to her side, pulling out a pistol from the straps at her belt. "He will be."
I quickly leapt forward, luckily enough the palm of my metal hand was in path with the bullet so I was able to block it. I grabbed the barrel of the gun and pulled it from her grasp, throwing it far behind me. I threw punch after punch at her, backing her up against the wall. I was quick, but it is no secret she's always been quicker. {y/n} used the wall to jump off of, sailing right over the top of my head.
I smirked to myself, seeing as though nothing has changed. I grabbed her ankle, forcing her down on the ground with a large thud that dented the concrete beneath her. I could tell the impact winded her as she gasped for breath. I climbed on top of her, pinning down all her limbs with my own.
"I'm so sorry." I apologized before grabbing her by the collar and lifting her head up. I brought my head down into hers with a force so strong that the headbutt knocked her out cold. My breathing was heavy as I wiped a mixture of sweat and blood from my face with my t-shirt. I looked over at Sam who seemed to be in shock.
"That all happened way too fast." He remarked, astonished. I sighed, nodding my head. "We need to get her somewhere confined, now."
Once again on cue, the sounds of sirens sang from down the street as a couple police cars flew down the road and blocked off the alley way that we were kneeling in. They got out, guns drawn and barking orders until they recognized Sam.
Sam explained the situation as the police officers piled the lifeless ghost of my past into the backseat of the car. Sam and I were in the backseat of another car, making our way to the police station. Sam's phone began to ring, he groaned in response to who it was.
"Now don't get mad at me, but we won't be bringing you your groceries."
~~~
{y/n} was still knocked out cold as members of the police officers handcuffed her arms to the table.
"She will get out of those." I tried to warn the chief of police. "Don't worry Mr. Barnes, the restraints were reinforced, they are secure."
I rolled my eyes in annoyance, they would learn. They would soon see that I was right. "So who is she, and why is she trying to kill you?" Sam stood by my side, arms crossed over his chest while he observed {Y/n} through the glass.
I sighed, biting the inside of my lip as I thought about how to approach the situation. I was astonished she was still alive. It has been over 60 years since I've seen her face, I was convinced that she was dead. There's no possible way she should be alive right now especially since Hydra had been disbanded. Sadness drug down over me as I have to explain the troubles of my past, just as I thought I was getting over them.
"{y/n} {l/n}. She was bought by Hydra roughly a year before they captured me. She was my trainer, she taught me everything I know. Before hydra she was part of the red room."
"The red room?" Sam questioned. "Like, the black widow red room? The same one as Natasha?"
I nodded my head sadly as I watched her unconscious face, her body slumped over in the chair. "We were partners. We trained and fought together, going on a lot of missions. She taught me everything while I was there."
"A winter soldier black widow?" Sam asked. "Well, I was the winter soldier. They called her subject X." I explained. Sam had other ideas buzzing in his brain. "I got it, Winter Widow."
I pinched the Bridge of my nose and shook my head. "Why do I even bother with you?"
Sam gave me a smug smile before asking; "We destroyed hydra back in 2014, how is she still here?"
Our attention turned back to the window, which for her was a two way mirror. My heart pounded in my chest, turning around to see her staring directly at me. She did nothing, just sat completely still and calm. She finally looked down at her hands. I could see her shoulders moving as thought she were moving her hands. Then she stood up, her hands free from restraints. I smirked to myself, knowing that I was right about her even after all these years.
"Handcuffs, Zola? I thought we knew each other better." She mocked the room as she began to walk around, observing her surroundings. Sam and I gave each other confused looks. "Zola? Armin Zola? He died in 1970." Sam questioned, now even more intrigued with the woman in the room. "How, how is she still alive?" He continued, neither of us taking our eyes off of her.
"Cryostasis. They put her under when they found out her serum variant made her immune to the brainwashing. She remembered everything, every emotion. She was lucky." It hurt to have to relive this moment of my past. It wasn't something I was proud of. Sam placed a hand on my shoulder out of comfort and gave me a gentle squeeze.
Our attention was drawn back to the sound of a loud crash. The table had been picked up off the ground and thrown at the two way mirror. "I know you're in there Dr. Zola, answer me!" She screamed, walking up to the wall. She stood right in front of me, staring at her reflection in the mirror with a fury that burned brightly inside of her.
"But how was she not recovered with the Hydra Infiltration, that's where I'm lost." Sam was clearly shocked and disturbed by the seemingly crazed woman.
"Hydra had loyalties all over the world, I'm sure that some follower managed to obtain her before their bases were compromised." I explained, though the idea turned my gut sour.
"But why the Winter Soldier? Why seek to kill you now?" Sam asked. The questions seemed to go in one ear and out the other, I was filtering through the words and not retaining a single thing. I watched as {y/n} paced around the room, visibly frustrated and anxious about the current situation.
"What if she Blipped?" I asked. Sam looked at me with complete confusion, but the thoughts in my mind were starting to make sense.
"Then if the Cryostasis chamber wasn't in the exact place it was left, she will have appeared outside of it." I finished my idea. Sam brought his hand it his chin and stroked it in thought. "That's a good idea. We should probably do some research. I'll jump on a computer and see if I can find any underground black markets or something."
"Good idea. I'm going to talk to her." I stated. "What if she doesn't remember you? Your girlfriend will rip your head off." Sam warned me, chuckling in astonishment in the process. I didn't listen to him, I pushed through the door, making my way around to the entrance of the interrogation room. The guard looked at me and raised his eyebrow. I simply nodded and he unlocked the door with the code, opening it for me.
I nervously stepped into the room. {y/n} and I at opposite corners. The door behind me shut, locking closed. Her eyes widened, I could physically see her entire body relax and her facial expression soften. Her voice was soft and broken as she spoke.
"Bucky?"
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