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#but I trust sam) then you... have not been paying attention and you owe me a list of 3 shows as popular as cr with nb protagonists
mediocre-shark-tales · 3 months
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Colby Brock x Reader
Summary - Colby didn't realize that another girl had been trying to pull him away from you. He fucks up big time and has to earn back your trust, earn back that unconditional love he's close to losing.
WARNINGS - angst, mentions of cheating, depressed thoughts, self hate, arguing, mentions of light violence, and swearing.
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You sat in your room, tears cascading down your face. You were currently living with Sam, Kat, and Colby in one large house. You and Katrina did have your own rooms, but they had been transformed into small office spaces where you both could do work from home or anything you needed to do without distractions around. Your office space did involve a small single person bed for the nights where you would get lost in work, or so overloaded that you would stay locked away in there. But Colby did have a key to your room and would usually carry you away to his room. That was where you normally stayed, since you two had been dating for so long. It was typical by now for any couple to be comfortable with sharing a room. So you two did.
Today had been your 25th birthday, Katrina being your closest friend had planed you a big party inviting all the friends you had made over the last few years. Seeing everyone was so great, especially Jake and Tara. Even though they were no longer together, they still were my close friends. On a scale they would sit together right below Katrina. As the night went on, I had become more and more frustrated. There was still no sign of my boyfriend, the one person I should have been guaranteed to celebrate with.
It was only 3 hours into the party when he posted on his instagram. It was him and Stan, they were hanging out together at some random bar or nightclub. I didn't pay attention that much, only that Colby was with Stas. That he forgot my birthday and had gone to a bar with another girl without telling me before hand.
Some may think that is insecure and jealous of me to expect him to tell me when he hangs out with girls. However when both of us are popular YouTubers who have fans watching and theorizing about our every move on a daily basis. Honesty about where we are and who we are with is the best way to keep our relationship happy and stable. I was already getting spam from comments trying to tel me Colby must be a cheat this time for hanging out with Stas on my birthday without me. They knew I wasn't there cause all of my friends and I had made a post about my party. Them wishing me happy birthday on different socials.
After seeing that text, I had begun overly drinking trying my best to get wasted. Jake, Tara, and Kat were keeping close eyes on me the whole time. Sometimes they tried to slow me down, or calm me down, anything that would get me to stop pushing myself. Sam had even told me that he was on my side about this whole mess up from Colby. He was trying his best to get in contact with his friend. But all of that was to no avail.
Which is why I now laid in my bed, locked away in my own room. I had stolen Colby's key to my room from him. He always kept it in the same drawer in his room. It was rare that he needed to use it so he always left it in the same place. I had thrown it onto my desk with my own key after locking the door.
It had been 1 hour since everyone told me goodbye and left back to their homes. I stared at my ceiling, the time I had spent crying had finally begun to lull me to sleep.
However when the front door opened, I could hear the footsteps of someone coming closer and closer to my room. When they tried the door handle, that is when I knew it must have been Colby. He tried knocking on the door, but I continued to ignore his attempts.
I even heard Sam talking to him. "Leave her alone Colby" He said with venom dripping from his voice. "You fucked up, and while you do owe her an apology and explanation, she had an emotional breakdown. You know what that means right? Maybe you don't since you had the audacity to forget such an important day. Well she went and got herself wasted, I was sure she would blackout or throw up in a matter of minutes after she started. So even if she was awake, she would be in no way able to talk to you." Sam finished. "But I-" Colby started but sam cut him off. "she could barely get up here by herself Colby. Jake, Tara, and Kat had to convince her in anyway possible to stop drinking and go to bed. You know what she talked about the whole time?" Sam asked. I heard another pair of footsteps come up, Katrina. She spoke finishing Sam's story for him. "She started to talk about everything she 'thinks' is wrong about herself. Don't you remember how many guys broke her heart like this Colby? You and I were her closest friends at the time. The way she came running to us back then, well that's exactly what happened tonight. She's in there probably covered in tear stains thinking the worst of herself. Until she found out where you were, she would ask us if we had heard from you yet. In a room of all her favorite people she still looked for you. She wouldn't have cared if you were just late, she just wanted to celebrate her birthday with you." I heard Katrina scoff before continuing. "And to think, she had spent a week preparing for your birthday, spending all of her time that day with you just last month. You couldn't even remember her birthday."
Sam spoke up once more. "Colby we are so disappointed in you, You better fix this, make it up to her. For now though, just go to bed and leave her alone for the night. She deserves that much from you." Colby said nothing more before walking off. Sam and Katrina also leaving to their room moments later. My body slowly gave out only a few minutes later, succumbing to the sweet release that accompanied well earned sleep.
When I woke up the next morning, my head had a dull small ache. Looking at myself in the mirror across from my bed. I saw that I looked like a mess. So I got up, changing into a pair of sweats and a random hoodie of mine. I then brushed out my hair and put it up into a messy bun. Checking myself over, I grabbed my phone and room key before heading out. I locked the door behind me, before waltzing down to the kitchen. I was in need of some water, I felt the dehydration buzzing through my system.
Turning the corner into the kitchen I saw Sam and Katrina. Across from them sat Colby and Stas. Colby looked like he slept horribly, Stas never once faltered the smile on her face. Katrina was scowling at them but gave me a sympathetic smile. Sam was the one to speak seeing me. "Hey y/n, there's some water bottles in the fridge for you. We left some medicine to help with the hangover on the counter over. The two burgers next to it are also your to help the hang over." He pointed to the counter where the meds and burgers sat. I nodded. "Thanks Sam."
Within the next two steps, Colby was already trying to get up and come over to me. "Y/n I'm so sorry-" I put my hand up towards him and he stopped mid step. "Now is not the time Brock, We will talk later, not while I'm suffering from a hangover. Especially when I have barely had any real time to process what the fuck you did last night. So sit you ass back down and continue with your conversation that I so terribly interrupted." He returned to his seat sadly, watching me with worry.
With that Stas got up coming over to me. "What is your problem y/n? he's just trying to explain himself, he deserves more respect from someone who just let their insecurity take over on some random night." I shook my head and rolled my eyes. She didn't deserve shit from me. In the next second my head was forced to the side, my left cheek slowly increasing in a hot burning sensation. The others yelling at Stas for slapping me. When I looked back at her, I watched her face fall from the angry smirk she gave me. I looked at her with the exact same blank stare I was giving her before. No reaction to her actions like she wanted.
"Actually Anastasia, I wasn't insecure about him being with you. I could care less because I know Colby has long gotten past whatever minuscule amount of adoration he held for you. The only girl he wants to be with is me. What I am upset about is that my boyfriend, forgot my birthday and instead spent the day with someone else. He could have hung out with anyone else in the world, I would still be the same way. Oh but keep trying to steal him away sweetie, maybe if you are lucky enough he may change his mind. However if you have a brain behind those eyes, then you would know to give up now and move the fuck on." I spoke to her in the same dead flat tone that my face showed.
I picked up my burgers and meds, grabbed a water bottle and walked out of the room. On the way back up to my room I could hear Kat yelling. "Stas, get the fuck out of our house. I don't want to hear from you or see you for a long time. Maybe until you know how to get your act together and move on from your hopeless love. Y/n used to be your goddman friend, how could you hurt her happiness just cause e you were crushing on her man!? Nope! Don't even try to explain yourself right now! OUT!" I smiled, I was glad to know that Kat would pick me over her without hesitation. I never wanted her to have to pick between me and Stas when the two of us fell out. But right now, it was nice to know someone had my side.
I opened the door to my separate room and went in. The door shut behind me as I sat down at my computer. After taking the meds, I began to edit some footage for a vlog I had gotten last week. Occasionally I had some bites of burger, this was how I was going to destress and calm down from that whole interaction. About 30 minutes later there was a knock at my door. "Come in." Glacing back I saw Colby open the door and peek in. "is it really okay for me to come in babe?" I sighed. I would have to get this over eventually.
"Alright, I can take a break, come in and sit." I turned around and watched him walk slowly over to my bed sitting down next to me. I looked at him and spoke first. "You have 5 minutes tops to explain yourself or whatever you wanted to tell me, then it's my turn to talk without interruption no matter what I say." He nodded and began.
"y/n, I am so sorry for what I did. I completely forgot the one day a year to celebrate you and just you. I wasn't actually planning to meet stas that day, I was actually attending a sponsorship meeting for Sam and I. She texted me asking if I had time to go to the bar with her and hang out. After that long and boring meeting I was in need of a stress relief. But this isn't my excuse or my way to push the blame of me. It is my fault for forgetting in that moment about you. I promise you that I love you and only you. Whatever it takes and no matter how long it takes, I will make it up to you. I only want to see you happy. I'm sorry." With that Colby finished what he wanted to say.
I took a breath and began my speech. "Colby I can forgive your forgetfulness but it's gonna take a lot for me to forget it. Right now I just need you to be honest with me, Do you still want to be with me or not? If you have lost the feeling we used to share then we can end it right now, it will hurt a lot less." Colby shook his head. "No! I love you please don't say otherwise." I sighed at his words. "Okay, then you better stick to you words cause I have spiraled for the last 12 hours, I didn't know if I could ever try love again had you really lost love or worse cheated. I have been through that too many times. You are literally my last hope." I felt ears brim and fall from my eyes again. Colby's expression softening more.
He held his arms open and I hesitantly fell into them. He slowly moved to lay us together on the small bed meant for one person. He pet my hair as I cried into his shirt. "I'm so sorry for making you feel this way. I really fucked up. I will make it up to you. I will show you how much I love you, how desperate I am to be with you, all the reasons I love you. I will do this till the day I die. I love you y/n" His words slowly soothed me to sleep. Cuddling with him as we both napped in each others arms.
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vibraniumavenger · 9 months
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Ties That Mend -Part 2
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Find part 1 here.
The next morning, there was complete silence. You walked through the tower, expecting to bump into somebody but you didn't. Arriving at the kitchen, you poured yourself a cup of coffee and sat at the table, looking over the files Fury had sent you. A little while later, Nat walked into the kitchen and plonked herself in the chair next to you. She groaned as you sipped your coffee, the noise clearly disturbing her. Giggling, you stood up and poured her a cup. She took it gratefully and thanked you before taking a sip herself. 
Clint and Sam were the next to join. Clint placed himself next to Nat, receiving a death glare as he took her coffee and began consuming it. You stood again, pouring another two cups and handing them to the guys. "Nat, how can you still look so good? You're hungover and you still look like a model. I'm sure I'd look nowhere near that good." You joked. Sam piped up, "Baby, I bet you'd look as flawless as always." He sent a wink and you scoffed. "You on the other hand, you look like shit this morning." You laughed, causing Clint to laugh also. It wasn't long before everybody joined you at the table, drinking coffee as they fought off their hangover. Tony on the other hand was not drinking coffee, he chose something a little stronger. 
"Hey, what happened to your face?" Sam asked. He shrugs and takes another sip of his liquor. "I don't remember, I asked Jarvis for any footage but there's nothing. Thanks for fixing me up Bruce, I owe you. Well, technically you owe me. I mean, I let you live in my tower for free and supply you with things but it's fine. Now we're even." Bruce just rolled his eyes, clearly not paying attention to anything he was saying. 
You were partially relieved, you didn't want him to know it was you. Another part of you wanted him to know. You wanted him to acknowledge that although he hurt you, you were decent enough to put all of it aside to help him. You sigh, standing up and walking to the bathroom before jumping in the shower, attempting to keep your distance from him. 
As soon as you were gone, it started. “So, now that she’s been here a while, what do you guys think of her?" Clint asked, it wasn't meant in a malicious way. He was genuinely curious. "A girl that is secretive and dislikes Tony? I love the kid." Nat joked. Steve was next to make a comment. "She seems respectable. She is very secretive though. I can't access any files on her, they're all top secret. I'm not too sure we can trust her." The conversation continued back and forth between the members, Tony agreeing with everything they said. It's not like they were being too horrible, they were just discussing your disrespect to Tony and your secrecy. To them, this was a normal conversation. To you, it was hurtful. Not only did they not trust you, they spoke about you behind your back. "I can't stand her, she acts as if she's better than everybody else. She doesn't care for anybody but herself." Tony remarked, wanting to join in the conversation. You walked into the room, silencing them all. Obviously, you had heard everything. You didn't want to show them how hurt you felt, so you kept a straight face as you threw your towels in the wash. 
"What's everybody talking about?" You asked. They hesitated, before mumbling something about a mission. You couldn't help but let out a laugh at their stupidity. Sending a glare to Tony, he swallowed nervously. He knew you heard. He knew you better than anybody, he could read it all over your face. Luckily, Steve stood, breaking everybody's silence. "Y/N, I think it's time we start training you." You avoid everybody's gaze as you turned around and walked back to your room, pulling on your training clothes. You went down to the training room, warming up as you waited for the others. They all joined shortly after, still looking guilty. Steve was the first one to step onto the mat. You started off with a few soft hits, before deciding to have no mercy. Sure, he was huge but you were determined. You fought great, dodging each hit he threw at you and then threw your own until you sent him back and onto the floor by landing a successful drop kick. The team clapped as Steve stood up, congratulating you before speed walking to the bench. The rest of the team backed out, so Natasha volunteered. Nat smirked, knowing she was able to floor you in seconds without much effort. She stood on the mat, reading your face and body language before throwing her first hit. To say you were equally matched would be an understatement, you were definitely in her league. The two of you fought continuously, not backing down. It went on until you decided to pull a move that would end it. You managed to position her correctly before throwing her over your shoulder and onto the floor, pinning her down with your legs around her neck until she slapped your leg repeatedly, indicating she was done. Everybody else was surprised, Nat never backed down with them. She stood, shaking your hand before stepping off the mat. Tony laughed, glaring at you intensely. "Got something to say?" You questioned, feeling a sudden burst of bravery. He shook his head as he walked over to you. "Where did you learn to fight like that?" You ignored his question momentarily, before you realised he was stood before you on the mat. "Why? Do you feel threatened, Stark?" You taunted. Just as he was about to throw a punch, you sent a swift punch to his throat, winding him successfully. You turned to walk away, leaving the team in awe. You felt a small sense of pride, but also plenty of guilt. Throwing yourself onto your bed, you made sure to avoid everybody for the rest of the day.
The next few days were uneventful. You kept yourself to yourself, hiding out in your room unless needed elsewhere. Steve, Bucky and Clint were called out for a mission which made it easier as there were less people to avoid. Tony was pissed you embarrassed him, he made sure you knew he was still pissed. He tried to get under your skin in every way possible. The rest of the team were sitting at the table once again. Your footsteps were heard as you made your way to the kitchen. Tony took this as his chance. "Natasha, I just want to say… you're the closest thing I've ever had to a sister. We've had our differences but you're actually a pretty decent human being. I'm proud to call you family." You could only roll your eyes, Natasha laughed as a confused expression plastered her face. "Stark, you trust me about as far as you can throw me." She confirmed. Tony once again tried to keep up the charade by practically kissing her ass for a few more minutes. You took your bottle of water, before walking back to your room. Natasha followed and walked into your room with you. 
"So, I know we haven't really talked properly since you joined. I think we should get to know each other." She suggested. You scoffed, you knew what she was trying to do. "Why? So you can find out whatever secrets I have? I know you don't trust me. None of you do. You all made that clear when you spoke about me behind my back. Nobody can access my files, Fury and I agreed to keep my life a secret. There's some things that are better off unknown and whatever is on my file needs to be forgotten. Trust me, it's for everybody's own good." Natasha looked you over, attempting to read you. "You know everything about us. You expect us to trust you when we have no idea who you are. You could be anybody. We don't even know your last name!" You hesitated for a moment, before answering. "Howard. My last name is Howard. Y/N Howard. Happy?" Nat took a deep breath, clearly annoyed. "Well, Y/N Howard… a last name just isn't going to cut it. We need to know if we can trust you. Where did you even learn to fight like that?" You stayed silent, hoping she would leave. "Fine. But we're not done with this." She walked out, back to the rest of the team as you locked your door once again. 
"Howard. That's her last name. You think it's legit?" Nat asked the others. Tony looked frozen, the last name clearly hitting a nerve. Everybody shrugged, unable to answer. “There has to be a way to find out more. What if we steal her file? Natasha’s basically a pro at that, she could access it easily. And, not to mention with Starks technology, it’d be easy.” Sam suggested. Nat smirked, it could work. “Unless you guys forgot, Steve already tried that. I don’t think there’s another way.” Tony stated. This lead the team to sigh, they'd get to the bottom of this. They were sure of it.  
Pepper knocked on your door, you knew her knock so you didn't hesitate to open it and let her in. She sat on your bed, waiting for you to start talking. "If you want to talk, I'm here. You and I both know the truth." She reassured. You shot her a small smile before clearing your throat. "I don't know what to do, I can't stand it, I can't stand being in the tower with him. It's becoming a toxic environment and I don't think I can take much more of it. Everybody hates me, I'm pretty sure they're on to me. It's only a matter of time." You panicked, your breathing starting to increase rapidly. Pepper grabbed your hands, pulling you back to reality. "Y/N, it's fine. You need to stay calm, okay? You have me, I'll be here no matter what. You and I both know what's he's like. He's too stubborn, it's one of his many flaws. Sometimes, I could just throttle him. But, deep down he's hurt. He masks it, drowning his sorrows until he can no longer feel them. Truth is, he feels guilty about what happened. He's just too stubborn to admit that he's sorry. If he could, he would apologise right now and patch things up between you. Please, don't take anything he says personally. He just… he's conflicted. Help him. He needs you more than you know." And with that, she hugged you before walking out. You sat thinking to yourself for the rest of the night. 
The next morning, Tony announced he was throwing another party. This meant you would be sat in your room all night, avoiding everything. You announced you wouldn't be attending but they all refused. "Howard, is it? Your attendance is mandatory." Tony smirked, clearly being sly before pulling you aside and whispering in a provocative manner. "If you don't attend, everybody will know." Your face expressed exactly how you felt. You were beyond annoyed, knowing you would have to attend for your own good. Nat, Wanda and Pepper asked if you'd join them on yet another shopping trip. Swiping Tony's credit card from his wallet, Nat smirked and you all followed her to the car that was waiting outside. You thanked Happy as he shut the door behind you, starting the journey to the shopping centre. You left the car upon your arrival, thanking Happy once again and rushing inside before the others. You decided to start shopping straight away, distancing yourself from them. You knew they'd be looking for you, but you didn't care. The only one you truly got on with was Pepper and she understood. You didn't want to go overboard, so you threw a few things into your basket and paid as quickly as you could before rushing out of the store. Just as you did, you bumped into them. Nat looked at you suspiciously, but brushed it off. "We thought we'd lost you." Wanda commented. "Yeah, well one can dream." you remarked before turning and walking again. They followed this time, not letting you out of their sight. 
They tried on a few different dresses, asking for opinions before deciding on the one they preferred. "What're you gonna wear tonight?" They asked you. You just shrugged. "Probably just jeans and a shirt." You admitted. You weren't one to dress up. "No. Absolutely not. I'm not allowing it." Natasha dragged you to the mannequin that stood in the window, the blue dress hugging its figure in all the right places. "This would look perfect on you." You shook your head but Nat was already undressing the doll. "Here. Try it on." She pushed you into the changing room, giving you no other option but to try it on. You did as she asked, throwing it on as quickly as you could before walking out. She smirked, approving almost instantly. After changing back to your casual clothing, you went to the checkout. As Nat pulled out Tony's credit card, you declined. Using your own, you paid. 
You made your way back to the tower, once again throwing yourself into your room. The party was a few hours later, by that time you were somewhat prepared. Pepper complimented you, making you smile. You thanked her, complimenting her back before heading down to the gathering. It was loud and crowded, your least favourite environment. You could feel how your body tensed, uncomfortably. You were approached by Sam, you had already rolled your eyes multiple times by the time he reached you. Handing you a drink, you laughed. "You know I don't drink, what's this for?" His face dropped, “Oh shoot, I forgot, my bad. I just thought you looked a little uncomfortable, and I wanted to help you loosen up.” You looked around at everybody else. You watched the way everybody danced, the way some stared at you, the anxiety slowly beginning to rise. Tony caught your eye, his smirked faltered and he began making his way over to you. Almost as if you felt the need to rebel against him, you took the drink and put it to your lips, preparing yourself to take a sip. His face changed completely and you took satisfaction in that. You hesitated before downing the liquid quickly. It burned as it travelled throughout your body, your face scrunched and you instantly regretted it. But did you stop? No. No, you didn't. Instead, you took another shot. “Woah, slow down there, I don’t think you should do that.” You laughed, but it wasn’t humorous, there was no emotion behind it. “I can’t take it anymore, Sam. I need to finally feel free, I’m exhausted. I need this.” A few drinks later, your head was spinning, you felt nauseous and right when Natasha sat beside you, you were pretty sure you were about do something stupid but your mind wasn't matching with your actions. Your blurred vision made it harder to concentrate. “Are you drunk?” You tried to focus on her, but it proved to be incredibly difficult. “Unfortunately, I believe I am,” you slurred. Natasha smirked to herself, as much as she didn’t agree with doing this, she couldn’t help but use this moment as an advantage. “Who are you?" Natasha asked. You were about to answer, but Tony stopped you. "Enough. I want nothing to do with this anymore. She told you she doesn't drink, and now you’re using this as a chance to investigate who she is? Do you know how wrong that is? That isn't fair. If she doesn't want you knowing, there's probably a good enough reason. Come on Y/N, let's get you out of here." You shook your head. "I'm not going anywhere with you. Not after the way you've treated me." You slurred. Tony picked you up, your sloppy hits did nothing to him as he carried you to the elevator. Pepper excused herself from her current conversation, and followed them. “Tony, what the hell happened?” Tony let out a loud sigh, “I don’t know. She got drunk, this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have made her come, she doesn’t drink and I’m the reason. I think I fucked up, Pep. How can I fix this?” Pepper rubbed his shoulder, “Don’t be so hard on yourself, okay? I’ll take care of her. You go get some rest, we can figure this all out tomorrow.”   After Tony had left, Pepper encouraged you to drink water, helped you change into pyjamas and lay you in bed, careful not to hurt you. “The whole room is spinning, Pepper.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at this, “I know. You’ll feel better once you’ve slept.” You let a tear slip, “I wish things were different. I wish he cared as much as I did.” Pepper sighed, “It may seem that way, but believe me, Y/N, he cares more than you think.” She brushed the hair out of your face, but you were already unconscious. She left without another word, heading the bedroom to check up on Tony. Pepper approached him, smiling widely. "I'm proud of you, you know that?" She praised. "You did the right thing." Tony kissed her, before undressing and crawling into his bed. "Just tell the others I wasn't feeling good. Party's over." Pepper agreed, walking away to pass on the message. The tower was evacuated, leaving silence as the team made their way to their rooms once again.
When you woke up the next day, your head was pounding, and your mouth felt like sandpaper. You could barely pull yourself out of the bed, but you knew you needed painkillers and coffee. You practically dragged yourself to the kitchen and poured yourself a cup, and throwing back the painkillers to nurse your hangover. Plopping down at the table, you sent a text to Fury, asking for a meeting. 
You stormed into Tony's office, startling him. "I've asked you many times before, this is the last time I'm asking. Remove me from Stark Industries, I don't want any income, I don't want any association with it. I'm better off without you and this company, I'm better off without all of you." Tony swallowed the lump in his throat. "You're entitled to half of the company, it’s what they would've wanted… you know that." He admitted. You couldn't help but laugh at this. "No, it's not what they would've wanted. They would've wanted you to take cake of me correctly, they would've wanted you to run the company correctly. Instead, you screwed up. All you ever do is screw up." You yelled, slamming your hands onto his desk. "I want no part of it anymore, I can't do it. We failed them… and you failed me. I'll sign whatever you need me to, just remove me." You walked out, bumping into Nat on the way out. "What was that about?" She asked, but you ignored her. You walked yourself out of the tower, taking one of the cars to the compound, before navigating your way to Fury.
 "Agent, how can I help?" He asked, slightly shocked to see you. "I want to be removed from the Avengers Initiative." You demanded. "I'm afraid that isn't an option." This caused you to sigh, clearly frustrated. "I can still work for S.H.I.E.L.D. but I refuse to work with the Avengers." His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, he wasn't in the mood. "Is there a problem I'm not aware of? Because, if not then I need you need to suck it up." This angered you even more. "Just place me on any other team!" "Frankly, that's not an option. There is no other team. Unless you would like to join Hydra. I'm sure I could put your name forward. They'd do anything to infiltrate us." Admitting your defeat, you apologised before excusing yourself. 
Back at the tower, things were tense. The team were aware of their mistakes, they apologised; much to their dismay. You were forced to forgive them, but the atmosphere remained thick with tension. Tony was gathering paperwork in his office when you approached him once again. "I'm sorry about my little outburst earlier. I didn't mean those things I said. If it's okay with you, I'd still like to have my share." Tony nodded, giving you a small smile before you walked back out to your room. 
The next few months were uneventful, you went on missions, you spent time with the team and you were still hiding the fact you were a Stark a secret. You and Tony had decided small talk was best, but you still clashed. The team questioned the possibility of you being in love with him, but they had no idea. Soon, nobody thought anything of it as they had grown accustomed to your behaviour. It was the day you both avoided everybody and failed to leave your room that caused alarm bells to sound. Your rooms were on lockdown, neither of you could pull yourselves together long enough to face the team. Your cries weren't ignored, the team grew worried. You pulled on your oversized MIT sweatshirt and wiped your puffy face over before making your way to Tony's room. You knocked a familiar rhythm and his door swung open, revealing his fragile appearance. He took one look at you before pulling you into a hug. A hug you had missed. One thing was for sure, you had your differences but in times like this, all you needed was your big brother. 
A/N: Thank you so much for your support! This is part 2, as previously stated I had started on this many years ago, I'm struggling with writers block currently, so I'm just changing and editing my current fics, in order to get back into the flow of things. If you have any suggestions, let me know! I'm unsure of where I'm taking this one, so if you'd like an input, feel free! I appreciate you taking the time to read this! Enjoy :)
Taglist: @vicmc624
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aspenmissing · 9 months
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𝙰𝚜𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚖 (𝙿𝚝 𝟸)
"Gavin...Gavin?" Kat calls out.
"I got a question for ya. You've seen a lot of horror movies, yeah?" Dean asks.
"I guess so" Dean turns to face her.
"Do me a favour. Next time you see one? Pay attention. When someone says a place is haunted...don't go in!"
==
Walking into a room, Sam and Theo see Gavin on the ground unconscious and Theo crouches to shake him. Gavin wakes up and freaks out.
"Hey, Gavin. It's okay, we're here to help" Theo says.
"Who are you?" Gavin asks.
"My name is Theo and this is Sam. Uh, we found your girlfriend"
"Kat. Is she alright" Gavin says while getting up, with the help of Theo.
"Yeah. She's worried about you. Are you okay?" Sam asks.
"I was running. I think I fell"
"You were running from what?"
"There was...there was this girl. Her face. It was all messed up"
"Okay listen, did this girl...did she try and hurt you?" Sam asks.
"What? No, she...uh..."
"She what?" Theo pushes.
"She...kissed me"
"Uh...um...but she didn't hurt you, physically?"
"Dude! She kissed me. I'm scarred for life!"
"Well, trust me, it could have been worse. Now do you remember anything else?"
"She uh...actually, she tried to whisper something in my ear"
"What?" Theo asks.
"I don't know. I ran like hell"
==
Dean and Kat walk down another hallway, Dean leading the way. The flashlight fades.
"You son of a bitch" Dean mutters before rummaging around in his pocket "It's alright, I got a lighter" Kat turns to look behind him.
"Ow. You're hurting my arm"
"What are you talking about?" Dean asks. They turn to look at each other, realize they're too far apart to be touching, and look down. A disembodied hand is clutching Kat's arm. Kat is dragged into a room, the metal door slamming behind her. Dean races to it and struggles to pull it open, Kat bangs on it from the inside but it doesn't budge. Dean continues to struggle with the door.
"Lemme out! Please!"
"Kat! Hang on!" Dean shouts. Dean smashes at the door with a metal pipe, then tries to jimmy it open. Inside, Kat slowly backs up, looking at the door. Someone stands behind her, breathing heavily. When Kat spins around there is no one there. Dean continues banging on the door. Kat turns again and sees the ghost. Tall, heavyset, long dark oily hair, his face a bloody mess. Kat screams and backs up to the door...and backs into him. She screams again. Sam and Theo are running down the hall to Dean, followed by Gavin.
"What's going on?" Sam asks.
"She's inside with one of them"
"Help me!" Kat screams.
"Kat!"
"Get me outta here!"
"Kat, it's not going to hurt you. Listen to me. You've got to face it. You've got to calm down" Dean turns to Sam.
"She's gotta what?!"
"I have to what?!" Kat shouts.
"These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate. You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it" Theo says.
"You face it!"
"No! It's the only way to get out of there"
"No!"
"Look at it, come on. You can do it" Theo says. Kat takes deep breaths and turns to face the ghost. He leans in close to her face.
"Kat?" Gavin asks.
"Man, I hope you're right about this"
"Yeah, me too" Sam says. They wait outside the door in tense silence. The lock clicks and the door slowly opens. Kat is standing in the doorway.
"Oh, Kat" Gavin says pulling her in for a hug. Sam goes inside to check out the room. He comes back, shaking his head at Dean and Theo.
"One thirty-seven" Kat mutters.
"Sorry?" Dean asks.
"It whispered in my ear. 137"
"Room number" Theo and Dean say in synch. Sam, Theo and Dean crouch against the wall where they can't be heard.
"Alright. So, if these spirits aren't trying to hurt anyone..."
"Then what are they trying to do?"
"Maybe that's what they've been trying to tell us..."
"I guess we'll find out" Theo says.
"Alright"
"So, not, are you guys ready to leave this place?"
"That's an understatement" Kat says.
"Okay" Dean turns to Sam "You get them outta here. We're going to go find room 137" Dean says gesturing between himself and Theo.
==
Sam leads Kat and Gavin down a hallway.
"So How do you guys know all this ghost stuff?" Kat asks.
"It's kinda out job"
"Why would anyone want a job like that?" Sam huffs a laugh.
"I had a crappy guidance counsellor"
"And Dean and Theo? They're your bosses?"
"No..." Sam says looking down.
==
Dean and Theo moves down a hallway, Theo shines her torch on room 137. Dean pushes against the door, using his weight to push aside the broken furniture blocking it. The room is a mess, filing cabinets pushed over, papers everywhere, the walls stained. Theo shines the torch around, flicks through some folders lying in a cabinet while Dean continues to look around.
==
Sam marches down a hallway and tries the door, but it's locked. He tries another one, also locked.
"Alright. I think we have a small problem" Sam says.
"Then break it down"
"I don't think that's gonna work"
"Then a window"
"They're barred"
"Then how are we supposed to get out?" Gavin asks.
"That's the point. We're not. There's something in here. It doesn't want us to leave"
"Those patients..."
"No. Something else"
==
Dean and Theo are still searching the room. Dean finds a loose panel and nudges Theo and gestures to it. She points her torch at the tole and Dean pries it off. Behind it is a satchel full of papers.
"This is why we get paid the big bucks" Theo says. Inside is a journal with many notes and hand-drawn pictures of medical instruments. Dean pulls up two chair and they sit down and Dean puts the book in the middle of them so Theo can also read it. They then look at each other concerned.
"Well all work and no play make Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy" Dean says. A noise close by makes the two look up quickly.
==
"Alright, I've looked everywhere. There's no way out" Sam says, moving back down a hallway towards Kat and Gavin.
"So, what the hell are we gonna do?" Gavin asks.
"Well for starters, we're not gonna panic"
"Why the hell not!" Sam phone rings and he answers.
"Hey"
"Sam, it's me...Dean. I see it. It's coming after us"
"Where are you?"
"We're in the basement. Hurry up!"
"I'm on my way" Sam hangs up and looks at Kat and Gavin "Alright, can either of you handle a shotgun?"
"What? No!" Gavin says.
I can" Gavin looks at her in amazement "My dad took me skeet shooting a couple times"
"Alright, here. It's loaded with rock salt. It may not kill a spirit, but it will repel it. So, if you see something, shoot"
"Okay" Kat says nodding
"'Kay" Sam says before running down the hallway.
==
"Dean! Theo!" Sam shouts, searching through hallways and rooms. His flashlight flickers and faded. He shakes it and taps it. A door behind him swings open. He raises his gun and approaches carefully "Dean? Theo?" A shadow moves behind a ragged curtain, drawing his attention. When he pulls the curtain back there's no one there. He turns and an old beaten-up man with ragged hair and clothes grabs his face. His hands start glowing.
"Don't be afraid. I'm going to make you all better" Sam groans, trying to pry the man's hands off.
==
Gavin paces, Kat crouches against the wall holding the shotgun.
"Hey, Gavin?"
"Yeah?" He asks, crouching besides Kat.
"If we make it out of here alive...we are so breaking up" Gavin stares at her. They hear a noise around the corner and both rise "Did you hear that?" Kat asks raising the shotgun.
"Something's coming" Theo and Dean come around the corner and sees Kat just as she pulls the trigger. Theo throws himself back around the corner, pulling Dean with her.
"Damn it, damn it, don't shoot! It's us!" Dean shouts, crouching against the wall.
"Sorry! Sorry"
"Son of a..." They come round the corner and Dean looks at the marks left in the wall.
"What are you still doing here!? Where's Sam?" Theo asks.
"He went to the basement" You called him" Gavin says, gesturing at Dean.
"I didn't call anybody"
"His cell phone rang. He said it was you"
"Basement, huh?" Dean says, looking at Theo. Dean look around and Theo's grabbing some extra weapons "Alright. Watch yourselves...and watch out for us!"
==
"Sammy? Sam, you down here?" Dean shouts, looking around.
"Sam? Sam!" Theo shouts, also looking around. Dean turns seeing Sam standing right in front of him making him jump back, automatically raising his shotgun.
"Man, answer us when we're calling you! You alright?" Dean asks and Sam nods.
"Yeah. I'm fine"
"You know it wasn't me who called your cell, right?"
"Yeah, I know. I think something lured me down here"
"I think I know who. Dr. Ellicot. That's what the spirits have been trying to tell us. You haven't seen him, have you?" Theo asks.
"No. How do you know it was him?"
"'Cause we found his log book. Apparently, he was experimenting on his patients, awful stuff. Makes lobotomies look like a couple of aspirin"
"But it was the patients who rioted"
"Yeah. They were rioting against Dr. Ellicott. Dr. Feelgood was working on some sort of, like, extreme rage therapy. He thought that if he could get his patients to vent their anger then they would be cured of it. Instead, it only made them worse and worse and angrier and angrier. So I'm thinking, what if his spirit is doing the same thing? To the cop? To the kids in the seventies, making them so angry they become homicidal.... Come on, we gotta find his bones and torch 'em" Dean says.
"How? The police never found his body"
"The log book said he had some sort of hidden procedure room down here somewhere where he'd work on his patients. So, if I was a patient I'd drag his ass down here, do a little work on it myself" Theo says.
"I don't know, it sounds kinda..."
"Crazy?" Dean finishes.
"Yeah"
"Yeah. Exactly" Dean opens another door, looks inside, then gestures with his head for Sam and Theo to follow.
"I told you I looked everywhere. I didn't find a hidden room"
"Well, that's why they call it hidden..." Theo stops mid-sentence "You two hear that?"
"What?" Sam asks. Theo looks around, crouching and holding her hand out.
"There's a door here" Theo says, Dean then walks over to her.
"Theo. Step back from the door" The twins turn to see Sam pointing a gun at the two and blood running down his nose. Rising to her feet, Theo's eyes looking from the gun to Sam's face.
"Sam, put that gun down. Please" Theo says, but Sam then moves the gun to point at her.
"Is that an order?" Sam asks.
"Nah, it's more of a friendly request" Dean says. Sam raises his gun to point at Dean's chest.
"'Cause I'm getting pretty tired of taking your orders"
"I knew it. Ellicott did something to you"
"For once in your life, just shut your mouth"
"What are you gunna do, Sam? Guns filled with rock salt. It's not gunna kill us" Theo says. Sam then shoots her in the chest. The shot blasts her backwards through the hidden door to fall on the floor. Dean looks at Theo and turns around only for Sam to hit him over the head with his shotgun, causing him to fall to the ground unconscious.
"No. But it will hurt like hell" Sam says.
==
Dean lies on the floor, coming to and gasping for breath. He looks to his right to see Theo, groaning in pain and slowly turning over to be on her stomach.
"You, okay?" Dean asks.
"Yeah. You?" He nods.
"Sam!" Dean shouts and Sam stands over him "We gotta burn Ellicott's bones and all this will be over, and you'll be back to normal"
"I am normal. I'm just telling the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we even here? 'Cause you're following Dad's orders like a good little solider? Because you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval?"
"This isn't you talking, Sam" Theo says. Sam looks over at her.
"That's the difference between you and me. I have a mind of my own. I'm not pathetic, like you" Sam spits. Dean and Theo stand up slowly.
"So, what are you gunna do, huh? Are you gunna kill us?" Dean asks.
"You know what, I am sick of doing what you two tell me to do. We're no closer to finding Dad today than we were six months ago"
"Well, then here. Let me make it easier for you" Theo holds her Smith camp; Wesson towards Sam "Come on. Take it. Real bullets are gonna work a hell of a lot better than rock salt" Sam hesitates "Take it!" Sam points the gun at Theo's face.
"Theo? What are you doing?" Dean says but is ignored.
"You hate me that much? You think you could kill your own sister? Then go ahead. Pull the trigger. Do it!" Sam pulls the trigger. The chamber is empty. He tries again, and once more. Theo uses a right cross to knock Sam to the ground and struggles to get up. Dean moves to stand over Sam
"Man. She's not really going to give you a loaded pistol!" Sam stares up at him. Dean delivers a vicious right cross to knock Sam out, almost falling as he does so. Dean pats Sam "Sorry, Sammy" Dean then goes over to Theo and pulls her into a fierce hug.
"Don't you ever do that again" She hugs back.
"No promises" she says. They pull away and they begin to look around the room, Theo pushes back ragged curtains with her pistol. Dean sees a tuft of something poking out of the corner of a closed cupboard and moves closer. He opens the door to find a mummified corpse and flinches back from the small, gagging. Theo then walks over to Sam to see if he's okay.
"Oh, that's just gross" Dean murmurs before pouring salt on the corpse "Soak it up" he then drops the salt container and grabs a small tin of kerosene, squirting the body. A gurney comes flying across the room and knocks Dean to the ground. Dr. Ellicott grabs his face and his hands light up. Theo hears the commotion and turns to see Dean on the ground with Dr. Ellicott above him, she then sees Dean struggling to reach for his bag.
"Hey!" She shouts. Dr. Ellicott then turns to look at her, giving Dean time to grab his lighter, flick it on and toss it at the mummified body. Dr. Ellicott lets go of Dean as he remains start to burn. Dean crawls out of the way and watches as Dr. Ellicott's ghost turns black and falls to the ground, crumbling on impact. Theo goes over to Dean and helps him up. Sam wakes up and the twins look over at him as he flexes his jaw painfully.
"You're not going to try and kill us, are ya?" Dean asks.
"No" Sam answers, raising his hand to push at his jaw"
"Good. Because that would be awkward" Theo says.
==
"Thanks, guys" Kat says as the five all stand outside.
"Yeah. Thanks"
"No more haunted asylums, okay?" Dean asks. They watch as Gavin and Kat walk toward their car, then turn to the impala.
"Hey, guys?" Sam asks. Dean and Theo turns to look at him "I'm sorry. I said some awful things back there"
"You remember all that?" Theo asks.
"Yeah. It's like I couldn't control it. But I didn't mean it, any of it"
"You didn't, huh?"
"No, of course not! Do we need to talk about this?" Sam asks.
"No. I'm not really in the sharing and caring kinda mood. I just wanna get some sleep" Dean says, moving to get in the impala, followed by Theo then Sam.
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exhaustedwerewolf · 2 years
Text
I know some people wanted all new characters but I can’t help but feel like the people complaining about the ExU characters (in earnest, not just saying, aw, not what I wanted, but those genuinely angry they “are being forced” to watch ExU now or whatever) are shockingly entitled. Matt had said that the players who are continuing with those PCs decided they would prefer to after playing ExU. Even with as extensive and impressive as The Critical Role Extended Universe™️ is now, it is literally still their game that they have invited us into, and as long as Crit Role continues to be completely free (or “pay what you want,” if you want to be really pedantic), I think it’s ridiculous for people to ever expect them to sacrifice their enjoyment for basically any reason. Not to mention it would literally ruin the show, but seeing into their game is still a privilege and not a right.
And I won’t even touch the complaints about Sam and Taliesin playing characters with “he/they” pronouns. People can play characters with whichever pronouns they want regardless of their own gender identity and pronouns, I am begging you to go outside.
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ray-ray-writings · 3 years
Note
HELLO CAN YOU PLEASE DO A TECHNOBLADE IMAGINE WHERE THE READER IS IN THE PRISON INSTEAD OF DREAM IG AND TECHNO TRIES TO LIKE BAIL THEM OUT
Prison Break
So this is an imagine request done in a more drabble type beat. I hope you enjoy and I hope this is okay! Let me know what you guys think!!
Techno frees you from your wrongful prison sentence. 
Dream is pissed that Techno didn’t come. He was counting on redeeming that favor he was owed to get him out of the things he had done catching up to him. But Techno didn’t come. He wasn’t there. Dream made sure that Techno paid for it. 
How did Techno pay for it you may ask. Simple. Dream pinned all of his crimes on you. Techno’s s/o. He easily manipulated the entire server once before, he absolutely is able to do it again, no problem. If anyone were to actually sit down and think about it, it would make no sense. You were always really kind to everyone and just was not a bad person at all. But everyone was so angry at what had been happening and wanted someone to blame so bad, that really all Dream had to do was connect your name to Techno’s and remind everyone that Techno had caused a lot of grief in the server and you had done nothing to stop him. In fact, you encouraged him. 
It was not something you ever expected. An angry mob showing up at your front door and announcing that you were under arrest. But it was a thing that happened in your life. That night, you’re in cuffs and being guided into Pandora’s Vault by Sam. You’re left alone in your cell and you break down. You know you don’t belong here and you don’t want to be here. You hope that Techno is able to get you out, to break you out. But as you stare at the crying obsidian walls that trap you in the cell, you know that this place is inescapable. 
Inescapable to a scared coward
And Techno was not a scared coward. No in fact he was livid. He was the most angry he has ever been in his life and he could literally rip Dream limb from limb but he knows better than to do that while you’re locked up. He knows he needs to get you out of there and soon. He works with Phil and makes a brilliant plan. A fool proof plan. And if he’s lucky, they won’t even know you’re gone. 
Techno goes to the prison about three days after you get locked up to visit. Sam doesn’t think anything of it, you two are dating after all. Techno goes through all of the proper procedures, signs all the waivers, and is soon enough standing in front of the lava wall you’re behind. Techno stands beside the fire resistance potion dispenser and begins to execute his plan. Techno focuses his gaze on the opposite wall which in turn causes Sam to also turn his attention to the wall, wondering what it is Techno sees. While Sam’s attention is elsewhere, Techno manages to reach into the dispenser and swipe a few fire resistance potions, safely tucking them into his inventory before turning his own attention back to the wall just in time for Sam to snap out of it. “Right… Are you ready?” Techno pretends to snap out of the “intense gaze” he was in and turns his attention to Sam and gives him a small nod. Of course he was ready. He’s been ready for the past three days. 
Sam has him stand on the little platform and presses the lava wall button before the path opens and Techno can finally see you. His heart aches at the sight of you. You look so broken down, so hopeless. His heart aches but his blood boils at the same time. Dream had done this to you. Dream was the reason you're here. The voices are raging in his head, telling him to kill the man that had done this to you. To make him pay and to not let him get away with this. He forces himself to take a deep breath and calm himself down, one thing at a time and right now he has to focus on getting you out. 
You almost don’t believe your eyes. The lava wall is being moved and there floating toward you is a pink headed angel…. Techno. Techno is coming toward you on the platform. And you could honestly cry. But you manage to keep it together until he’s safely on the obsidian. The netherite block wall is lowered and all bets are off. You throw yourself into his arms and bury your face into his chest. Your arms wrap around him tightly, as if you’re afraid if you let go, he’ll disappear. But he doesn’t mind. He’s holding you just the same way. 
You two continue your hug until the lava wall comes back down and closes you in the cell. Techno pulls himself back ever so slightly, just so he can look down at your face. Noticing his movement, you peer up at him, your cheek still resting on his chest. “Hey there love,” he speaks gently. You could burst into tears just from that. It had only been three days but it had felt so much longer than that and you could only relish in the contact you had with him now. 
“Hey” you manage to croak back, your voice a little raw and rusty for not having used it for the past few days. Techno leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head and just leaves his face resting there for a little bit, hugging you tighter to him. 
You two stand there for a while, just holding each other. You’re so content in your boyfriend’s arms, so relaxed, that it nearly scares you half to death when several explosions happen around you. Techno holds you tightly to him as you jump at the loud noises. Your head shoots up and your fear filled eyes meet Techno’s cool, calm, and collected ones. In fact a little smirk is playing on his lips. “Right on time Phil,” he murmurs, looking at the ceiling.
 “Phil?” You asked, still very confused as to what is happening. 
Techno’s gaze shifts to you and his smirk shifts into a smile. “Phil,” he confirms. 
“Why is Phil setting off explosions?” 
“To distract Sam of course.” As he answers, Techno pulls out the three potions he managed to snag from the dispenser. 
“How did you--” Techno doesn’t let you finish your question. Instead he presses all three into your palms.
“Listen to me very carefully okay? You have to follow this exact plan. Do you understand?” 
You only nod and listen as Techno explains to you how you’re going to escape prison. He explains in as much detail as possible. Tells you at what times you will take the potions and the path you will take that leads you out of the prison. But then he also tells you about the path you’ll take once you’re out. He tells you how to get to his house in the tundra. There you’ll be safe. 
He gives your forehead a kiss and then presses one really passionate one to your lips as well. “I’ll see you soon okay? Sam will let me out of here at the end of the day once he finds it was only a few creepers lurking around,” Techno tells you with a wink as the two of you stand by the lava wall. You can’t help but giggle at the wink, even though it’s a pretty serious time. But you nod and give him a soft smile in return. 
“I love you.” 
“I love you too.”
You give Techno one more kiss before popping a fire res potion and swimming through the lava wall. You follow Techno’s instructions to a T. Only a few times did you get a little confused and have to take a moment to really think about what Techno had told you. When you find yourself outside, you can’t help but cry a little. Three days in complete solitude will do that to a person you guess. The emotions just overwhelm you and you allow yourself to cry for a little bit as you sink on to your knees in the grass, your fingers clutching some of the strands. You’re very lucky that no one is around to see you but you’re finally free… Well almost. 
After a little bit, you manage to pull yourself together and get yourself up off of the ground. You have to make your way to Techno’s house now. You know the way of course, but you have to make your way through the SMP without being seen. It’s a lot easier than you expected it to be, everyone busy with their own things, not really paying attention, so you make it through rather easily. You do take a small detour and swing by your house and get a few supplies before making your way out to Techno’s house. 
Back in the prison, Techno is calm for the most part. He has complete faith in Phil leaving behind no trace of the actual cause of the explosion and he trusts you to make it out just fine, but he still worries a little bit. This is a big thing that’s happening and he can’t exactly make sure you’re safe and that you’re okay right now as you travel, so he can only wait. After a few hours, he hears a noise from the other side of the lava wall. He rushes over to the bed and pretends to be leaning down and kissing your forehead as the wall moves to reveal the cell. “Visiting Hours are now over.” Sam calls from the room across the cell. “Please move to the platform.” 
“Goodbye my love. I’ll be back soon,” Techno promises the thin are as he moves over to the platform and is moved out of your cell and back to Sam’s side. 
As Sam is walking Techno out of the prison, Sam explains what happened. “Yeah, somehow some creepers got in and blew up. They didn’t do any damage or anything so it’s fine… I suspect Tommy or Tubbo were trying to prank me and it didn’t completely go well.” Techno lets out a hum and nods along with Sam as he pretends to know nothing about the situation. Techno gathers his things from his locker and bids Sam a farewell before heading out of the prison. Once he knows he’s out of sight, he breaks into a sprint to Phil’s old house in L’Manberg.
Phil is waiting outside with Carl and Phil’s own horse already saddled up when Techno arrives. The two men share a hug and celebrate how they were able to pull off the perfect prison break. Techno and Phil quickly mount their horses and soon enough they’re on their way out to the tundra. 
You had crashed in Techno’s bed as soon as you arrived, exhausted physically from the journey and mentally and emotionally from the prison. That is where Techno and Phil find you, asleep in Techno’s plush bed. The two just spend a few moments looking at you, as creepy as that sounds. But they just want to prove to themselves that they did it, they saved you and you were safe and no longer in prison for crimes you did not commit. Philza is the first to break from his staring trance. He claps Techno on the shoulder before turning around and walking out of the room. 
Techno very quickly also breaks from his trance, peels off her shoes, and climbs into bed beside you. His arms wrap around you and he pulls you gently into his chest. Techno didn’t mean for it to happen, he actually didn’t want it to happen at all that’s why he was so gentle, but you stir and you begin to wake up. Your eyes pry open and you meet his gaze for a moment before you curl yourself into his arms even more. Techno can only chuckle at your clingy behavior, but he can’t blame you. He’s feeling the same way. So he only holds you closer and gives you multiple quick pecks before one long kiss. “Welcome home my love.” 
Like I said, let me know what you guys thought of this and if you’re still okay if I write some of the imagine requests like this in the future!!
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itsapeterthing · 3 years
Text
Secrets (Four) || Bucky Barnes
Tumblr media
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: when you wake up in the avengers compound after being saved by bucky, sam and nat, you discover that something’s changed.
a/n: thank you for all your feedback!! reblogs and replies are super appreciated!
word count: 2.7k
warnings: arguing, swearing, angst
Prologue, One, Two, Three
masterlist || request || taglist
Opening your eyes, blinking to clear your vision, you were immediately met with ice coating the ceiling above you despite feeling as though you were locked in a sauna.
“What the-”
Sitting up in your bed, you tried to piece together where you were, why you were here and what had just happened, but all you could see was the concrete room you were sat in with nothing but a bright light shining above you and frost coating every inch of the room.
Suddenly the events of the day all came back to you- the men in your house, being kidnapped, being locked in a container to freeze to death... the truth about your husband.
Bucky.
The last thing you remembered were his eyes meeting yours on the other side of the glass.
Despite years of marriage and precious memories, all that flooded your brain were the images of the Winter Soldier- masked and ready to kill. All you could hear were the screams of his victims and those who fled at the sight of him. 
All you could feel was fear.
“You’re awake.” You heard an unfamiliar voice declare.
Snapping your attention towards the door of the room you hadn’t even noticed was there, you recognized the very familiar red-headed Avenger standing in the doorway.
“Wait, you’re.... are you-” You stumbled over your words. “Where am I?”
Carefully stepping into the room, closing the door behind her, Natasha slowly made her way over to your bed.
“You’re at the Avengers Compound.” She informed you. “Do you remember anything?”
You thought then that she might have been glad to learn that you had retained your memory, but you sure wished you hadn’t.
“More than I’d like to.” You said.
Shooting you a sad smile, her gloved hands pulled up the chair next to your bed, seating herself beside you. As she did you finally took in her appearance, noting the large jacket she was wearing, the hood over her head and thick gloves on her hands, meanwhile you felt as though you were soaking in your own sweat.
“God, how are you wearing that?” You asked, pointing at her jacket. “It’s so hot in here.”
Chuckling, she leaned back in her chair.
“Well when you’re ninety degrees, I guess an ice rink would feel a little warm.”
Furrowing your eyebrows, you sat up straighter in your bed.
“Ninety degrees?” You asked. “Shouldn’t I be dead by now?”
“That’s what we all thought.”
Squeezing your eyes shut, you remembered the feeling of the frost hitting your skin when you were enclosed in the container, the sounds of the cold air rushing out of its walls. You were trapped, feeling the biting cold in a way you never had before. So cold that when the frost began to form over the glass, your husband’s eyes meeting yours, all you could feel was the cooling sense of exhaustion wash over you as you closed your eyes and fell into a deep slumber.
“How long have I been out?” You asked.
Just as Natasha was opening her mouth, you heard a voice coming from the other side of the room.
“Two days.”
Your eyes snapping open, you turned your attention immediately to the man in the doorway. When you saw your husband standing in the threshold, you felt your heart begin to race in your chest as you scrambled back against the bed frame.
“You.” You said, swallowing, the word venomous in your mouth.
Hearing the word slip out of your mouth almost as though it were a cruse, Bucky’s eyes widened and he began to feel his heart beat against his chest.
He knew then that the consequence of the secret he had been keeping for years was now staring him back in the face.
“Y/n-” He eased, taking another step forward.
Grabbing the pillow from behind your back, you tossed it at him.
“You lied to me!” You shouted. “You fucking lied to me all these years. I- it’s sick!”
Letting the pillow hit his chest, he began to feel sick.
He had known deep down that someday his past would come back to haunt him. Even deeper down he knew that someday you would discover the truth, but he had hoped to be gone by then, leaving you to hate him once he could no longer feel your wrath. He had shoved down the idea of the look on your face when you found out for years, but now as he stood there, his own nightmares playing out before him, he just wished he had told the truth sooner.
The consequence of losing you and never having you was better than knowing your love and having it tainted with hatred by his own hand.
“Doll,” He said your pet name, his shoulders slouching.
“No!” You shouted, pushing yourself off of the bed. “You don’t get to call me that anymore! God, did ever even feel bad about lying to your own wife?”
He did.
He felt awful every time he made up some lie about his past. He felt awful every time he told you he had no family, no friends. He even felt awful every morning when he lied to you about where he was going off to work every day.
It had been eating away at him for years.
He had told himself that it was for the best, but he realized now that he didn’t do it for you, but entirely for himself. He had been so incredibly selfish and you were now paying for his crimes.
“Of course I did.” Bucky said so low, it was nearly a whisper. “Of course I felt bad, Y/n.”
Before you could reply, you heard another knock on the door, it cracking open slightly.
“Oh thank God.” Natasha said from her seat when she saw Bruce and Sam.
Dropping your hands to your sides, you turned away from your husband, instead focussing your attention on the two Avengers now entering the icy space.
Before anyone could speak, however, the man you recognized as Captain America made his way over to you, reaching his gloved hand out for you to shake.
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” He said, giving you a soft smile. “I’m Sam. I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances, but...”
Glaring at Bucky, you shook Sam’s hand.
“Sam.” You said. “It’s so nice to finally meet you too.”
Your eyes still on your husband, the three others in the room glanced between one another before Bruce cleared his throat.
“Y- you’re probably wondering about the ice in the room,” Bruce said
“You could say that.”
“Well, while you were out for the past couple of days we had some of the best doctors we know examine you,” Bruce explained. “I understand that this may be... difficult... to understand, but this- this ice- it’s-”
“It’s coming out of you.” Sam said finally, finishing Bruce’s sentence for him.
Quirking your eyebrows at the three members of the group of Avengers, you thought for a second before shaking your head, laughing.
“You’re joking, right?” You asked. “You have to be kidding.”
This couldn’t be real. There was no possible way you actually had ice coming out of your body. This wasn’t you. This wasn’t real.
Standing up from her seat, Natasha crossed her arms.
“When you were in cryo, you were in temperatures nobody comes back from.” She said, seriously. “You should be dead right now. No one knows why you’re still here.”
Lifting your hands from your sides to stare at your palms, you attempted to digest the information the three of them had just fed you.
You were alive when every logical answer said you shouldn't have been. You had abilities that no other living person did.
You were supposed to be at home, spending the weekend with your children. You were supposed to wait for your completely honest husband to walk in the doors of your home and kiss him hello.
But now you were standing there, being told that you had changed- transformed. You were different than you were before. You didn’t feel warm and fuzzy, but cold and distraught.
Feeling the anger course through your veins, tears meeting your eyes, you stared at your palms and in a flash, frost burst forth from the center of your hand.
Jumping back, you rapidly closed your hands into a fist, feeling your heart thumping against your chest.
“I understand that this is hard to take in-” Banner attempted.
“I’m... I’m a monster.” You said, staring up at them with wide eyes. “I have ice coming out of my hands!”
Gazing at you from the other side of the room, watching the fear in your eyes behind the tears begging to break free, Bucky felt incredibly guilty.
He had known what you were going through because he had gone through the same himself. He had woken up only to discover that he had become a super  soldier with a metal arm- that he was no longer Bucky Barnes- but someone else- someone different.
He would have never wished the experience on his worst enemy, never mind the woman he cared for most in the world, but you were experiencing it nonetheless. You were in it because of him.
He had told himself that he was trying to protect you, but in the end he had forced you into a life you had never asked for.
He felt his heart shatter in his chest watching you fall apart before everyone.
All he wished was for him to be able to go over to you, to hold you in his arms despite the cold bite of ice that was sure to frost over him as soon as his skin met yours, but he knew he couldn’t. He knew you didn’t want him to.
“Y/n that’s not true.” Sam said. “I know it might feel that way, but you’re still you and Bruce is going to figure out a way for you to control it. I know it seems bad, but you’re going to be okay. You’re a part of our family now. We’ll figure it out, alright?”
Wrapping your arms around yourself, you nodded.
“Okay.”
As much as you were in shock, you trusted the three individuals in front of you. They hadn’t given you a reason not to- they had risked their lives to save you and even now when you felt they owed you nothing, they were working their best to help you.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” You said. “Really. I think I just need some space right now.”
“I understand.” Sam nodded. “If you need anything, we’ll be right outside.”
Without a word the others followed him as he left the room and you slowly made your way over to your bed, sitting on the edge of it, placing your head in your hands.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”
Shaking your head you pulled your face out of your hands.
“What part of ‘I need space’ don’t you understand, Buck?” You asked.
You heard his footsteps slowly cross over the room to you.
“I need to say something-”
Of course he did.
“Oh that’s rich, James!” You scoffed. “Funny how now you have something to say. Funny how you didn’t say anything when we started dating, or got married, or God- had children together.”
“Y/n-”
“It’s just so insane to me how you could go all this time without saying anything.” You continued. “How could you even look yourself in the mirror-”
“Fuck, Y/n, just listen to me!” He shouted, standing in front of your spot on the bed. “I fucked up really bad- I know that. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but can’t you see why I did it? I was so afraid you’d be ashamed of me because of what I am and I thought I was protecting you-”
Feeling the ice beginning to shoot out of your palm, you pushed yourself off of the bed, pointing your finger into your husband’s chest.
“I’m ashamed to have a liar as a husband.” You said, knowing just how much the words stung for him, but you felt nothing but ice flowing through you at the moment in the heat of rage. “How could you think this was protecting us? How could you think keeping the truth from me was protecting our kids? You not only put me in danger but my kids, Buck.”
“They’re my kids too, Y/n.” Bucky said.
“Are they?” You asked. “Because I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
You watched as he stepped back, his back hitting the icy wall behind him. He had known you were angry, he even knew that he deserved every harsh word you were throwing at him, but to hear you dismiss him so entirely- to almost denounce him from your life- made him feel a pain that even his worst days in Hydra or in recovery could never rival.
“I- I mean I don't even know who I am anymore, Buck.” You said throwing your arms in the air. “I mean look at this. Look at this room! Nobody can even touch my hand without gloves or without bundling up like they’re going to the fucking North Pole!”
Backing away from him, you held your face in your hands once again.
“I don’t even recognize myself and I’m all alone.” You said, lowering your voice. “I- I can’t even hug my kids- I can’t see my kids. It’s so hot in this room to me but everything just feels so cold and empty. I just wish you didn’t fucking lie to me because it would be so much easier to not hate you the way I do right now. Looking at you makes me want to scream but, God, I feel so alone.”
Beginning to feel a sob catch in your throat, your head still in your hands and the tears turning to ice when they met your palms, you felt the cool touch of Bucky’s vibranium hand meet your arm. 
Shrugging him off, you shook your head.
“As much as I fucking hate you right now, you can’t touch me, James.” You said. “I’ll just hurt you.”
He knew that. He knew the biting sting of your ice against his skin. He had spent the past two days sitting by your unconscious side and no matter how many times the others told him to keep his gloves on at all times, your touch mattered more. They brought more warmth than any glove could- no matter how cold your hands were.
Seeing you breakdown in front of him, despite all of the harsh words you had thrown at him, he was sure he felt his heart break in his chest. You didn’t deserve this pain. You didn’t deserve this suffering. You didn’t deserve to be alone.
Resting his vibranium hand on your arm once again, the frost slowly creeping up his arm, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Wrapping both of his arms around you, he pulled you into his embrace. Rather than shrugging him off and pulling away, you wrapped your arms tightly around his torso, digging your face into his bundled up chest, sobbing.
Feeling a chill run throughout his body at your touch, he rest his chin on the top of your head, running his frozen vibranium arm up and down your back.
Although he knew that all was not forgiven, and that things would not be the same or even okay for a long time- if at all- all that mattered to him in that moment was that you weren’t alone. No matter the ice that overtook his body when you were in his embrace, the warmth that you brought him would never grow cold.
Going into cyro ten thousand times would be worth just one second of your peace and he would do whatever it took for you to forgive him for his mistakes that you now bore the consequences of.
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yelena-bellova · 3 years
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Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
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chapter three - Chapter Four: Madripoor - chapter five
Series Masterlist
Plot: Y/n, Sam and Bucky pay an eventful visit to Helmut Zemo in Berlin, heading to Madripoor soon after to get answers about the serum.
Word Count: 7.4k
Warnings: spoilers for episode.3, angst, violence, description of injuries, a few crumbs for the slow burn, breaking the law and looking good doing it
A/N: These chapters always end up being so long lol. I was going to include the nightclub scene but it would’ve made it too long so sorry, it’ll have to wait a few more days. Forgive my shitty Russian translations, I’m on Google Translate and that’s not saying a lot. 
----
“Not that it makes a difference, but I still don’t like this.” I’d voiced my displeasure about meeting with Zemo several times since we’d arrived in Germany. Even though we were already being led through the high security Berlin prison hallways, I still felt the urge to state my opinion. 
The guard that was guiding us gestured towards a door, “He’s just through the corridor.”
“Give us a sec,” Bucky said, the three of us coming to a halt in the middle of the hall. “I’m gonna go in alone.” “Why?” Sam asked.
“You’re an Avenger, you know how he feels about that,” Bucky looked to me, “You, I’m trying to keep as far away from him as possible.”
“It’s not like you two were known for frolickin’ in the sun together,” Sam remarked.
“I’m gonna say it again,” I took an assertive step forward, “I don’t like this.”
“He was obsessed with HYDRA,” Bucky pushed, “We have a history together. Trust me, I got it.”
Taking my cue from Sam, who didn’t fight him any more, I nervously watched Bucky stalk down the hallway to the corridor that led to our possible next step.
“Is he really okay?” I asked, watching Bucky’s figure until he disappeared, “I feel like we’re going a little too far with this.” “He’s invested, which means he’s desperate,” Sam answered, leaning his back against the wall, “This is a little too much though.” 
I copied his posture and we stood in silence, the occasional guard passing by. “What happened last night after I left the room? C’mon, you come out crying and you thought I was gonna let it go?” “Bucky and I were just…” I sighed, remembering the change that had happened between our two conversations, “Learning to get along. I told him about Steve, that’s never fun to relive.” “Ah,” Sam nodded, “Can I ask you something?” 
“Hm?” “You’re not mad at me that I gave up the shield, are you?”
My brows knitted together as I looked over at him, “Why would I be mad? Your decision wouldn’t have changed even if I was, would it?” “No, it wouldn’t have. But you were close to Steve too, you care about his legacy,” he went on, “We’re all angry about Walker. I don’t care if Bucky’s upset at me, but I always care if you are.” “Someone ever tell you you care too much sometimes?” I playfully nudged his sneaker with my own, “Of course I’m not mad, you know I support you no matter what. You made the right decision for you and you have nothing to apologize for. Bucky and even Steve don’t need to understand why you chose to give it up. Would it have been cool to say that my brother is Captain America?” I coaxed a laugh out of him, “Of course, but it doesn’t change how I see you. I’m just proud to say my brother is Sam Wilson.” He poked me with his elbow and smiled, “Now I remember why I keep you around.” “Y/n Y/l/n, Falcon’s Ego Booster.” We were sharing a laugh when Bucky came back around the corner. “That was quick,” I observed. He’d been in there five minutes tops.
“We’ve got our next stop.”
————
“What are you talking about? You wanna break Zemo outta jail?” Sam questioned in the dark, “Where are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?”
“We have no leads, no moves, nothing,” Bucky replied, shining his flashlight around to try and find the power switch. I couldn’t clearly make out where he had brought us to, he’d brought us through the back door of the building. “So because we’ve hit one dead end, you want to spring one of the most dangerous men in the world out of prison?” I asked, shining my flashlight at Bucky causing him to throw a hand up to shield his eyes, “Bucky, I don’t-“ “Like this,” he finished, “I got that, but we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on the loose.” “Zemo’s gonna miss with our minds, especially yours,” Sam interjected, “No offense.” I made out Bucky’s silhouette reaching up a beam, a loud click of a switch and the lights began to turn on. “Offense,” he scowled.
With the lights on, we could finally see that we were in an auto shop. I was glad to be out of the prison but I wasn’t seeing the correlation between it and freeing Zemo.
“Super Soldiers go against everything he believes in,” Bucky continued, “He is crazy, but he still has a code.” “I’ve been on the wrong side of that code and so have you,” Sam countered, I’d heard in detail about the havoc Zemo had caused and the ramifications of his actions had caused Sam and Steve to become fugitives. Never mind what he’d done to Bucky…”He blew up the UN, he killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans forgot about it? It’s a rhetorical question, they didn’t. I know why this matters to you, but it’s pushing you off the deep end.”
Bucky stood in front of us now, “We don’t know how they’re gettin’ the serum. We don’t even know how many of them there are,” Sam turned his back in frustration, “Look, let me just walk you two through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”
“What did you do?” Sam asked suspiciously, turning halfway to meet Bucky’s eyes.
“I didn’t…” Bucky’s looked away briefly, “Do anything.”
“Then by all means,” I leaned up against a beam and crossed my arms, not believing him at all, “Let’s ride the hypothetical train.” Bucky frowned at my sarcasm before launching into it, “The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element. Now, in this lockup, it’s nine to one, prisoners to guards. And if two prisoners start fighting, then the protocol says four guards have to respond.” “So why would two prisoners randomly start fighting at that moment?” Sam asked.
“Who knows? There could be many reasons…But the point is, these things escalate. Lockdown procedures would have to be initiated and with all those bodies flying around left and right, wouldn’t be hard to slip down a hallway or two. And if the fire alarm got tripped while the prisoners were being separated, someone could use the chaos to their advantage.”
“My gut is sounding off every alarm it has right now,” I commented from my place across from Bucky.
“Yeah, I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this, this is unnatural,” Sam replied finally, “Are you- and where are we, man?” A nearby door closing caused us to turn our attention towards it, a silhouette appearing soon after through a curtain. The shadow became a man and walked through the cloth divider wearing the face I’d had etched in my brain since the day it hit the news.
“You son of a bitch,” I mumbled, creating a ball of energy quickly with my hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sam’s voice rose, walking with me towards the man, “What are you doin’ here?” Bucky was quick to throw himself in front of us, “No, listen. I didn’t want to tell you ‘cause I knew neither of you would let this happen.” “What the hell did you do?” I exclaimed.
“We need him,” Bucky said. Sam pointed to Zemo, “You’re going back to prison!”
“If I may,” the Sokovian man began, removing the hat of his stolen prison guard uniform.
“NO!” the three of us yelled at the same time. He hung his head, “Apologies…” Bucky turned back to Sam, “When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for me,” when Sam averted his gaze, Bucky chased it, “I’m asking you to do it again.” 
“And what about her?” Sam gestured to me and the ball of energy I still had formed in my palms, “What happens when she breaks the law?” Bucky’s pleading eyes drifted to me, “He’s our only shot at getting any answers.” My mind was wrestling with itself, his rightness was inevitably going to come at a cost we would all have to pay. On a technicality, yes, I could plead innocent to freeing Zemo. A coconspirator charge, I wouldn’t be so lucky with. But stopping the Flag Smashers meant saving lives and that wasn’t something I could walk away from. I deformed the energy in my hands in cautious surrender, “I’m already breakin’ the law by going against the accords, I need to make it worth it at least.” Sam shot me an exasperated glance, but he didn’t fight me.
“I really think I’m invaluable…” Zemo began from his corner.
“Shut up…” Sam warned, effectively shutting him up. Sam thought it all over for a second before pressing his flashlight to Bucky’s chest, “Okay. If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission.” Zemo shrugged, “Fair.”
The three of us shared an uneasy look, there was no going back now. “Okay, Zemo, where do we start?”
“Follow me,” he smiled, leading the way out of the auto shop and expecting us to follow. Sam went first, eager to keep his eye on Zemo at all times while Bucky and I brought up the rear.
“I didn’t want to have to go this route,” he said from beside me as if he owed me some explanation for his actions. I sighed, trying to shut off the part of my brain that was screaming at me, “Just be right.”
We maneuvered through a few corridors until we hit a room filled with beautiful antique cars. “So our first move is grand theft auto?” Sam asked. “These are mine,” Zemo corrected, “Collected by family over the generations. I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it’s out there, someone can create an army of people…like the Avengers,” he dug through one of the cars to pull out a bag and coat, “I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished.” My eyes unavoidably flickered to Bucky, observing his reaction to hearing his old code name. He simply watched the man continue speaking. “To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes.”
“Well, join the party. We’ve already started…” Sam commented.
“First stop is a woman named Selby,” Zemo stated as he headed for the exit, “Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb.” 
Sam, Bucky and I left a gaping distance between us and him, we were still highly suspicious and I had a feeling we would be until our temporary partnership came to an end.
————
Zemo had gotten word to somebody that we’d be meeting them at a private airport in Berlin and flying to someplace called Madripoor. Somehow we’d made the journey without being recognized, even those of us who were wanted across the globe. “So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam asked as we made our way towards the private plane.
“I’m a Baron, Sam,” Zemo answered, “My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country.” 
Zemo greeted the man standing outside the plane, who was dressed like a butler, in Sokovian. “Well,” I crossed my arms and watched one of the world’s most dangerous men exchange cheek kisses, “If we’re going to work with a criminal, at least we picked one that comes with transportation.” “Please,” Zemo said, gesturing for us to follow him up the plane’s steps. Sam awkwardly bowed to the butler and headed up. Bucky extended a hand towards the jet for me to go ahead of him before following closely behind.
When we filed into the plane, Sam and Zemo were already seated. I moved to take the chair across from the baron, wanting to keep as close an eye on him as I could. Bucky’s flesh arm reached out quickly and grabbed my shoulder, I turned to question him and met his wary expression. “Sit with Sam,” he muttered quietly, our faces close enough that I could feel his breath as he’d spoken. It dawned on me that he wanted me to have the safer position. I answered with a nod, maneuvering around him to sit across from Sam. Even though his hand had left my arm, I could still feel its print through my jacket.
We had been flying for maybe twenty minutes when Zemo’s butler, Oeznik, came in carrying a glass of champagne for Zemo and offering to whip up some food. It astounded me how to the world, he was evil yet to his servants, he was a joy. “You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell,” the baron said before looking over at my brother, “Oh, that’s right. You do.”
Sam bypassed the jab remarkably, “Why don’t you tell us about where we’re going?”
“I’m sorry, I was just fascinated by this,” Zemo held up a book, “I don’t know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?”
Not two seconds after the name had left his lips, Bucky out of his seat with his metal hand wrapped around Zemo’s neck. My heart stopped as I watched him lean over the man threateningly. “If you touch that book again,” he growled, “I’ll kill you.” This was a side of Bucky I had yet to see, the one that straddled the line between his dark past and his true self. As he sat back down, tucking the book in his pocket and refusing to meet my eyes, I could tell he wasn’t pleased with how he’d acted. I wasn’t in a place to criticize but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been slightly worried when his fingers hit Zemo’s skin.
“I’m sorry,” Zemo said, “I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” “Don’t push it,” Bucky rasped, collecting himself after the scene.
“I’ve seen that book,” Sam spoke up, “It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man, he wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?” “I like ’40’s music,” Bucky shrugged and looked out the window, “So…” “You didn’t like it?” Sam exclaimed.
“I liked it,” Bucky replied unconvincingly.
“It is a masterpiece, James,” Zemo chimed in, his hands forming a triangle, “Complete, comprehensive…It captures the African-American experience.” While my brows raised at the European’s surprising education, Sam’s furrowed. “He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great, everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”
Bucky shook his head, “I like Marvin Gaye.” “Steve adored Marvin Gaye.” “He did,” I chuckled, reminiscing back to only last year, “Played him almost anytime I got in a car with him.” “You must have really looked up to Steve,” Zemo said, “But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America’s Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals.” “Watch your step, Zemo…” Sam warned. “They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there,” he shrugged, “Cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought,” Zemo turned his attention to Bucky, “You remember that, right?” As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? That is why we’re going to Madripoor.” “What’s up with Madripoor?” Sam looked between the two men, “You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”
“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago,” Bucky grumbled, “It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” “It’s kept its lawless ways, but we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves,” Zemo’s unsettling eyes moved back to Bucky, “James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” 
With the way Bucky’s expression had changed in mere seconds from complacent to tortured, it didn’t take long to decode what Zemo was insinuating. “No,” I blurted out, “That’s not fair to ask of him.” “I admire your devotion, Y/n,” Zemo complimented with his lips to his champagne flute, taking a quick sip, “But you know nothing of how Madripoor works. If you want to get to Selby, we must have protection. More than that, we must have leverage. James can provide us both by simply playing a part.” “Devo-?” I shook my head, sidestepping Zemo’s comment, “That’s not playing a part, that’s like reliving every nightmare you’ve ever had. I-it’s like-“ “Y/n,” I turned to see Bucky’s chair rotated towards me, looking helpless and determined all at once, “We need in.” “Yeah, but…” I started to protested before seeing his eyes, those ocean blue eyes I was growing to feel comforted by begging me to let the subject go. I clenched my own y/e/c ones shut in frustration, “Okay.” “Now that that’s settled,” Zemo stood from his seat, “I will find us something to change into, we will need to blend in where we’re going.” ——
The silver dress Zemo had chosen for me was…it made me wonder just what kind of scene we were planning to enter. It was more revealing than anything I typically wore, but gorgeous nonetheless and fit perfectly.
As I was finishing my makeup in the bathroom of the plane, I had to take a second to steel myself for what was to come. This wasn’t just dallying with Super Soldiers any more, this was dancing with the criminal underworld. Zemo hadn’t told us yet the roles we were playing, only that we needed to stay in character at all cost. I had never felt more out of my depth, but had no choice but to rise to the occasion. Giving myself one last check in the mirror, I unlocked and exited the bathroom. 
“Okay, I hope whoever I’m playing is bad with heels,” I held up the elaborate shoes Zemo had matched to my dress, “Because there’s no way I’m going to be graceful in these.” Sam looked up from tying his dress shoes, dressed in a maroon suit patterned with yellow circles. His eyes scanned my outfit unapprovingly. “Uh uh,” he protested, going full protective big brother, “Nope. It shows too much.” “It doesn’t matter what it shows,” I said, bending over to strap on the shoes, “It’s what I’ve got.” “She’s right,” Zemo chimed in, putting his jacket on, “You two are supposed to be rich, glamorous travelers of the world. You need to look the part,” he nodded towards me, “You wear it well.” I politely smiled at the baron and looked up to Bucky, perched in the far corner of the jet. His gaze was fixed on me, eyes quickly traveling down my body before quickly locking with mine. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his plush lips parted ever so slightly. I found myself just as drawn into him as he seemed to be with me, for a few seconds it was just the two of us shutting our surroundings out. It was…something. “You look nice,” Bucky finally said, his voice slightly strained.
My lips quirked upwards, “Thanks.” “It is time for us to leave,” Zemo announced, bursting the bubble Bucky and I had built, “You’d better get used to those shoes quickly, we’ll be making most of the journey by foot.” He hadn’t been lying. We departed the runway and walked our way towards the city. Madripoor looked beautiful on the outside, the high-rise buildings lit up in all different colors emitting a glow across the waters. 
“We have to do something about this,” Sam finally exclaimed, holding the lapels of his patterned maroon suit, “I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.” “If you’re a pimp, what does that make me?” I gestured to the amount of skin I had on display, “Suck it up, Wilson.” “Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp,” Zemo added as we crossed the large bridge leading to the city, “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” Sam took Zemo’s phone from his outstretched hand, “He even has a bad nickname.”
I leaned over to look at the picture of Sam’s doppelgänger, “Hey, be nice. That’s your twin you’re talking about.” “And you,” Zemo addressed me, “Conrad is known for entertaining beautiful women, one after the other,” he ignored the faces of disgust Sam and I made at the thought of acting as a couple, “You will be playing tonight’s date, no need to come up with a name or a story as his dates are typically just arm candy.”
“So I’m supposed to just sit and look pretty?” I side eyed Zemo in annoyance, “Great.” “You smell this?” he asked the group.
“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam asked.
“Madripoor,” Zemo answered, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error. High Town’s that way,” Zemo pointed towards the part of the city I’d been admiring, “Not a bad place if you want to visit, but Low Town’s the other way.” We approached a car waiting for us at the end of the bridge, ready to take us into the darkest part of the city. Bucky, who had remained silent since the plane, climbed into the backseat first while Zemo took the passenger’s side. “Let me guess,” Sam remarked as we moved to get in the car, “We don’t have any friends in High Town.”
“I’m guessing not,” I muttered, ducking into the back seat and sliding till I was pressed against Bucky. He didn’t make a sound, he barely even registered my presence. I was about to ask him if he was alright when I realized what he was doing. We all had our roles to play and Bucky was doing just that. 
Sam climbed in next to me and we took off, me sandwiched between the two men trying to convince myself that I could do this. I could pretend to be someone I wasn’t to get answers, but my nerves was convincing me I was going to mess it up for us. No margin for error, Zemo’s words bounced around in my brain. He’d said our lives depended on it. They depended on whether or not I could keep it together. Sam must have sensed my anxiety because I felt his palm slide against my clammy one and squeeze. I sent a shaky one back, taking what comfort I could that I didn’t have to do this alone.
We were escorted in by a motorcade till we got to the seedier part of the city, the bridge we parked under painted with graffiti. Sam helped me out of the car and Zemo took our group through the back way into the city. As we crossed the overhead bridge, looking down into the city, I began to feel like my life had suddenly become some fever dream. Even more so once we entered the city and I was surrounded by people from all walks of life. Smugglers were making deals, guards were stationed outside buildings with machine guns, forgers were trying to sell to people. It was like nothing I’d ever seen. Sam kept me on his arm the entire time, selling our characters while still retaining his protective nature. We followed Zemo into a crowded bar, weaving our way through. “Here we are,” he announced quietly, our fellow patrons took notice as soon as they caught sight of Bucky, “Gotov podchinit'sya, zimniy soldat?” (Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?)
I tried my best to keep my face neutral, though an unwelcome chill went down my spine as Zemo began his act. It was wrong. It wasn’t fair to Bucky or his recovery to make him do this.
We approached the bar and the bartender came over immediately, “Hello, gentlemen. Ma’am. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” “His plans changed,” Zemo explained, “We have business to do with Selby.”
The bartender looked over suspiciously at Sam, “The usual?” Sam nodded casually in response and the man walked away to begin prepping the drink. What took us by surprise was when he reached for a jar containing a dead snake rather than the bottle of alcohol. He proceeded to lay the reptile on a cutting board and slice its stomach open, I looked up to Sam who was doing his best to keep his composure. “Ah, Smiling Tiger,” Zemo jeered, “Your favorite.”
The bartender removed a piece of the snake’s guts and sunk it into a shot glass filled with vodka. I covered my mouth with my clutch to conceal my delight at the sight I was about to behold. Sam caught the action and addressed the bartender, “You know what? She’ll have one too.” “Oh, no, I don’t think so,” I quickly protested, waving it off as if it were a shot of tequila and not an animal intestine.
“No, girl, I insist,” Sam grinned phonily at me.
“They actually upset my stomach,” I giggled, glancing to the bartender, “Can’t hold my liquor to save my life, I’ll be up all night sick if it touches my lips. But you enjoy, sweetheart.” The bartender didn’t pay much attention to the exchange as he set the shot glass in front of Sam, who looked unconvincingly between the glass and Zemo. “I love these,” he stated, holding it up for us all to see.
“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo clinked his glass against Sam’s.
Sam made several, hopefully convincing, noises of excitement about his drink. After giving it one last look, he shot it straight down, holding a thumbs up to the bartender afterwards.
“How badly are you trying not to throw up right now?” I whispered after the man had left.
“I can’t even hear you right now,” Sam replied in a strained voice, focusing on keeping the drink where it needed to be. An intimidating bearded man made us all turn around, he looked to Zemo. “I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”
Zemo, ever the cool and collected presence, turned to the man. “I have no business with the Power Broker. But if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo gestured to Bucky, standing at his side. 
“New haircut?” the man asked Bucky, who stayed silent.
“Or bring Selby for a chat,” Zemo finished.
The man left, leaving us with questions. “A power broker?” Bucky grumbled, “Really?” “Every kingdom needs its king,” Zemo replied, “Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.” 
“Do you know him?” Sam inconspicuously asked. “Only be reputation the baron answered, “In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.”
I spotted another man approaching us, this one walking with a purpose. Zemo looked to Bucky, the show was about to start. “Zimniy Soldat,” Bucky nodded once, “Attask.” (Winter Soldier, attack.) As soon as the stranger thumped Zemo’s shoulder, Bucky sprang to action, his metal hand grabbing and twisting the man’s arm. He pushed him to the center of the room where he proceeded to twist it further before dropping him to the ground. The groans coming from him were sickening as he lay helpless, clutching his most likely broken arm. As another patron came up to attack, Bucky moved fast to disarm him before power kicking him into a table several times. I clung to Sam’s arm even tighter as Zemo shoved someone forward for Bucky to punch, sending him sliding across the floor. 
“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo slyly observed, from my side. It took everything in me not to send him flying across the room right then. He was enjoying this.
When Bucky lifted a man by his throat and slammed him down on the bar was when guns all over the bar were cocked. Sam grabbed onto Bucky’s metal arm, ready to pull him back to us and to reality. “Stay in character,” Zemo whispered, dead serious, “Or the whole bar turns on us.” Sam dropped his arm as Zemo leaned into Bucky, “Molodets, soldat.” (Well done, soldier.)
“Selby will see you now,” the bartender said, watching the scene in awe. Bucky slowly let the man go, gasping and groaning for air once he was freed. Sam looked over warily, “You good?” When Bucky faced us, his eyes met mine before they met Sam’s. I wished I could have concealed my reaction better for his sake, but the second he had attacked was the first time since we’d met that I’d been properly scared of him. It made the incident on the plane look like nothing. My mind knew he was just acting, pretending to be someone he once was for the sake of furthering our mission. But my blood ran just as cold with fear as it would have if the Winter Soldier was standing in front of me. Bucky’s eyes now were watery, filled with pain that he’d worked hard with his therapist to get through, now being brought back to life. Had the bar not been watching and had I not needed to stick with Sam, I’d have been at his side trying to make sure he was alright. Instead, I could only watch as he sniffled, nodded to Sam and followed Zemo to wherever we were going next.
We were escorted upstairs through a series of hallways with a heavily armed guard following us. A white haired woman sat in the middle of the room we were led to, tapping her fingers against the couch she lounged on. “You should know, Baron, people don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Zemo smiled, “Not a demand. An offer.”
Sam and I took our places standing next to Selby, Bucky stood watch across from us, back in his act. 
“A lot has changed since you were here last,” Selby spared a look at Bucky, “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?” 
“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo shrugged, “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.” 
Selby pointed a blind finger towards Sam, “You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger,” she eyed Sam suggestively and gave him a purr before turning her attention to me, “And what a lovely little dish you’ve got with you.” Internally I was struggling to stay calm and had never felt more exposed with the thin materiel of the dress over my body. “What’s the offer?” Selby grinned at Zemo.
“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum,” Zemo replied, rising from his seat to circle Bucky, “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want,” Zemo rubbed Bucky’s chin, playing with it to provoke him but knowing he could get away with it. I felt sick to my stomach.
“Now that’s the Zemo I remember,” Selby approved, “I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but…things didn’t go as planned.”
I squeezed Sam’s arm, we were getting answers. The crazy, chaotic plan was actually working. “Is Nagal still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked.
“Oh, the bread crumbs you can have for free,” Selby’s flirtatious demeanor shifted as she stood to business-like, “But the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” 
A sudden vibration tickled my arm from Sam’s suit pocket, it was his cell phone. He pulled it out hesitantly and looked down at it, I glanced over to see that it was Sarah calling.
“Answer it,” Selby ordered, Bucky had moved behind her to give us protection if need be, “On speaker.” The armed bodyguards moved in closer, it was clear we had no say in the matter. Sam unlocked his phone and pressed the speaker button, “Hello?” “Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation,” Sarah’s voice filled the air, sending an all too brief wave of peace through me, “It’s been drivin’ me nuts.” 
“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?” Sam replied stiffly. “Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.”
“What situation, Sarah?” Sam’s voice grew louder, “Say it.”
“The damn boat,” Sarah replied just as hard, “And watch your tone, okay? I let you slide at the bank.”
Sarah. The boat. Home. And here I was standing in a designer dress meeting with Indonesian crime bosses. Two unbelievable worlds were colliding on the call.
Sam scoffed and nervously chuckling, “Yeah, the bank. Laundered so much, yeah, they’ll come around.” “If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?”
“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see,” Sam paused menacingly, “When I have that banker killed.”
We almost had Selby convinced as I watched her pace around the room, we were so close to- “Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this!” Sarah yelled, “Sam, I’m sorry. Let me call you back, and make sure Y/n is with you too.” “Sam? Y/n?” Selby echoed the names, “Who are you? Kill them!”
A second after she had given the order, a bullet shot through the nearby window and struck her chest fatally. The four of us sprung to action, Sam landing punches on the guard stationed behind us while I used my energy to pull the machine gun from his grasp. Across from us, Bucky took care of the other guard. I handed the weapon to Sam and we took our positions in the back of the room, ready to retaliate against the hidden assassin. “They’re gonna pin this on us,” Sam panted, our backs against the wall.
“We have a real problem now,” Zemo said, unbelievably calm for someone in our situation, “So leave your weapons and follow my lead.” Bucky ripped the lock on the back door and the four of us filed down the staircase quick as we could. It dropped us back off in the middle of the city, we hurriedly made our way down the street where all heads were turning to us. “This is not good,” Zemo hurried. The words hung in the air for a grand total of five seconds before bullets started to rain down around us. Bucky, Sam and I tore down the street where in the chaos, Zemo took off in another direction.
“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yelled over the gunfire. “Oh, I don’t wanna hear it,” I exclaimed, struggling to keep up with them in my stilettos, “Screw it!”
I threw my hands out to my side and lifted off the ground, keeping low enough to dodge any shots but stay close to Sam and Bucky. Two motorcycles sped after us promising more bounty hunters, Zemo caught up with us and killed two lone gunmen hiding behind a dumpster. Two perfectly aimed bullets came out of nowhere and lodged themselves in the heads of the cyclists chasing us.
“You seem to have a guardian angel,” Zemo observed as the three of us looked around for our savior.
“Well, this is too perfect,” a woman’s voice said, she appeared seconds later drawing back her hood and pointing a gun toward us, “Drop it, Zemo.”
Bucky stepped forward disbelievingly, “Sharon?” Sharon Carter. I recognized her only from the pictures I’d seen of her on the news when the shitstorm that branded her an enemy of the state went down. As she strode forward, ready to strike down the man responsible, I couldn’t say with certainty if she was an ally or not. “You cost me everything,” she seethed.
“Sharon, wait,” Sam, ever the steady presence, held a hand out and carefully came towards her, “Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” “Well, that explains why you guys are here and Selby’s dead.”
“So what are you doing here?” Bucky asked.
“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” she answered, her face contorting, “I also took the wings for your ass,” she aimed her gun at Sam, “So that you could save his ass,” then at Bucky, “From his ass,” the gun landed on me after Zemo, “Your ass is new.” “I’ve had one hell of an initiation, trust me,” I replied, standing my ground between Bucky and Zemo.
Sharon turned back towards Sam, “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up so I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”
“Don’t blow that smoke at me, I was on the run, too,” Sam recalled. “Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore,” Sharon shook her head sadly, “I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”
“Listen, Sharon,” Bucky stepped forward, “We need your help. Please.” Sharon mirthlessly chuckled to herself, sighing afterwards as she made her decision. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”
While Sam roughly shoved Zemo forward to keep him in his line of sight, Bucky pressed a gentle hand to the small of my back to act as a guide through the dark alleyways. “You okay?” he asked quietly, quickly looking over at me. With everything he’d gone through in the last twenty minutes, the fight in the bar, the unshed tears in his eyes, Zemo talking about him like he was property to be traded, I couldn’t understand why he was asking if I was alright. He was what I was concerned with right now. “I will be once I get out of these shoes,” I joked, trying to get him to smile if at all possible. A corner of his lips turned upwards in a blink-and-you’d-miss-it flash, mine doing the same right after in some sort of relief.
Sharon led us to her car parked down a different alley, Sam shoved Zemo in the front seat while him, Bucky and I squeezed in the backseat once again. The difference between Low Town and High Town was visceral, Madripoor may have been dangerous no matter where you went but High Town provided a little more safety. When we arrived at Sharon’s house, greeted by two burly guards, the feeling of protection increased. The first room we entered was filled with artwork, statues and other priceless works that told us exactly what Sharon had done to afford her lifestyle in High Town.
“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well,” Sam commented as we walked through the room.
“Well, I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler,” Sharon shrugged, far too goodheartedly for a true criminal, “You know how much I can get for a real Monet?” Sam grinned at his friend, “Deactivate your hustle mood, you sell fake Monets.”
“No, she means real,” Zemo corrected, “This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” “I kinda thought that was implied,” I said, following Sharon and Zemo and beginning to relax in the shockingly calm environment, “No offense.” Sharon scoffed, “None taken, a girl’s gotta do what she can to survive. By the way, who are you?”
“Y/n Y/l/n,” I answered, “Sam’s sister.” “Hmm,” Sharon hummed, looking me over once before turning around to hurry Sam and Bucky along, “Come on, you guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour. You,” she pointed to me, “Second door on your left, I’ll bring something up for you.” At the promise of shedding the over exposing dress and blistering heels, I had never moved faster in my life.
————
I took the opportunity to catch my breath while I could, the night had been a little too exciting than any of us had wanted. Sitting on the edge of Sharon’s bed with my elbows balanced on my knees, I felt the adrenaline rush I’d been running on start to subside.
The door opened, bringing in Sharon and her garment of choice. “This looked like it would fit you,” she said, tossing me a black jumpsuit that looked ten times more comfortable than what I was in. She walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out an outfit for herself, “I gotta change too, back to back?” “Works for me,” I replied, turning around and beginning to unzip the dress.
“So you said you’re Sam’s sister but your last name isn’t Wilson?” Sharon asked, I could hear the sound of her clothes hitting the floor.
“We grew up together,” I freed myself of the dress and kicked it to the corner of the room.
“That doesn’t explain why you’re here though,” she said, “This is probably the shittiest family road trip you could go on so clearly there’s a reason.” I looked over to the wardrobe, a pair of black boots sitting on the floor next to it. I used my energy to levitate them and landed them at Sharon’s side. Her dry chuckle served as her reaction. “I kinda begged him to bring me,” I explained as I pulled the jumpsuit up my body, “He was going to send me back home before John Walker decided to not so subtly threaten me with the Sokovian Accords, figured I’d be safer here with them.” “Safer?” Sharon scoffed, “Did he say this before or after you were being shot at by bounty hunters?”
“Well, between getting shipped off to jail and going undercover with a superhero and a Super Soldier as protection, I’ll take my chances here.” I heard Sharon walk away, presumably finished dressing. I zipped up the suit and tightened the belt, turning around after to find her leaned up against her dresser with her hands in her pockets. “Look, I know we just met but let me do you a favor and shed some light on the subject of heroics. It’s all bullshit. The whole costume, nickname, swoop-in-and-save-the-day act is all hypocrisy. I get that you’re young, you’ve got,” she waved a hand at mine, “Whatever that is. Maybe you want to do some good, maybe you just want to feel like you’re a part of something. Maybe you didn’t think it through at all and just thought it would be cool to run with a superhero. But if you’re smart, you’ll get your ass on a plane to anywhere but here and stay clear of all this.”
There was so much going through my head that I wanted to throw back at her, proving her speech completely wrong. Then I remembered that this woman had sacrificed more than most had and the government had turned their backs on her. She’d stuck her neck out for Steve and Sam and had been punished for it. Plus, she was kind enough to give us refuge when she had every right now to. I wasn’t in a place to criticize her. If anything, she should have been a cautionary tale. “I’ve had these powers all my life and have never known what to do with them,” I responded, “I want to help people and this is the best way for me to do that. As easy as it would be for some people to walk away, this is personal and I can’t leave now.” Sharon stared back at me silently before pushing herself off the dresser and brushing past me. There were layers of her expression, if I could peel each one back I thought I might get to the sadness I suspected she felt regarding her current life status. She opened her wardrobe, pulled out a pair of combat boots and handed them to me. “Then take a step back and ask yourself how far you’re willing to go. And if the three of you live long enough to get there, is it going to be worth the hell that’ll come afterwards?” She gave me a half smile before leaving the room, her heavy words hanging in the air. Steve had been my friend, Sam was my brother and Bucky was quickly climbing the ranks of people I cared about. I was going to see this through to the end with them, but what was the end? Was it retrieving the rest of the serum and stopping the Flag Smashers? Was it only two of us returning? One? None? Questions I didn’t have the answers to swirled in my mind as I stared at the door, wondering what awaited us for the rest of the night.
----
A/N: Next chapter is going to be...let’s just say there’s gonna be a lot of developments. A lot. Hope you guys are enjoying it, let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged.
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I feel like you've given most spn related things some lil spice but I always love the spice on this : hot spicy take on the "Dean is the most horrible character and ruins everyone's life and Sam and Cas are poor little meow meows who only do bad things sometimes because tyran Dean farted in their direction" takes that are not really only said by anti-Dean peeps ? Obsessed with that incredible thesis and would love the added spice ❤
SPICY HOT HOT GHOST PEPPERS CAROLINA REAPERS HELP I'M BURNING
I really try to respect other people’s opinions, and I believe there are a wealth of ways to interpret a story, and I think that’s a deeply beautiful thing. This applies to interpretations I don't agree with and outright dislike as well. That said, some opinions are simply and objectively bad, dishonest, and/or demonstrably false, and I truly do not believe you can sit down and honestly watch through the show with an open mind about all the characters, truly pay attention to what they do, say, and believe, and come to the conclusion that this show is about an evil manipulative abusive man terrorizing his pure and sinless brother and friend. It is an interpretation built from cherry picking facts to suit an ugly, miserable theory, making Mount Everest out of a bunch of the tiny mole hills, making the worst possible presumptions of feelings and intentions, and holding characters to completely different standards in order to neatly divide them into "abused" and "abuser" in a way that, frankly, fetishizes the abused person. I despise this interpretation of the story with every fiber of my being, and I have absolutely no respect for the opinion of anyone who peddles it, regardless of who they cast as villain/victim (because people have also done this with the others—it’s just more “popular” to do it with Dean... I mean... does anyone else remember how people were shitting on Sam after his emotional reaction in 14.12? Calling him an evil abuser? Because I do).
The thing that always gets me about this take isn't just how dishonest, unfair, mean-spirited, and compassionless it is in its treatment of Dean’s feelings, circumstances, and intentions... but how deeply reductive and offensive it is toward Sam and Castiel, sucking away their identities to turn them into effigies to mourn for their sad, Stockholm syndrome-esque attachment to their "abuser". Further, it grips the heart of the show—the relationship between Sam and Dean, and then the relationship among TFW as a whole—in a tight, uncompromising fist and pulverizes it. It literally rips out the heart of the show (the RELATIONSHIPS) and replaces it with something unprepossessing of any merit: A miserable, 15 years long story about a malicious abuser getting away with terrorizing those closest to him for his entire life, while his poor abuse victims suffer through until they die for him/happy to be reunited with him because they “don’t know any better” and never ever learned better, I guess. What a stupid, sad sack of a story.
Castiel is a thousands of years old celestial being who has literally beaten Dean into the pavement under no form of mind control, and has shown over and over again that he will do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of whatever Dean thinks about being sidelined. If he thinks whatever he is doing is in Dean's best interest, he literally does not care how Dean feels about it. He will nod and smile and then fly off and swallow thousands of souls with Dean begging him not to, shove Dean out of the way to attack the big bad, leave Dean alone in Purgatory, refuse to come out of Purgatory so he can self-flagellate, fly off with the angel tablet, help Sam with the Book of the Damned, let Lucifer possess him without anyone's knowledge or agreement, come into Dean's room under the guise of apologizing for ghosting him so that he can steal The Colt out from under his pillow and murder someone, decide not to murder that person and still prevent Sam and Dean from helping by knocking them both unconscious, get himself killed, make a deal to trade his life for Jack's and never tell anyone, hide information and worries and ignore phone calls, ghost Sam and Dean, and bicker and fight with Dean as if they are a married couple. Love sickness and feelings of worthlessness (which Cas has a wealth of reasons to feel—many of which aren’t even related to Dean but to his heavenly family) are reinterpreted as the result of some sort of constant, terrorizing emotional abuse. Power and authority that Dean does not actually have is forced into his hands by these fans. Maybe listen when Cas says, “Hey—not everything is your fault.” Maybe listen when he says “I loved the whole world because of you”, calls Dean a role model, says he enjoys their conversations, offers to die with him and dies for him multiple times. Maybe treat these feelings as genuine and valid and HIS and not as the delusions of some poor manipulated baby. 
Sam is framed this way even more often than Cas, and it's a damn shame, because what I typically see is this: Sam’s development into a mediator and peacemaker is twisted and reinterpreted as coming from a place of weakness and/or fear. Rationality, maturity, wisdom, and compassion are not the traits of a scared, powerless child. They are the traits of a mature adult, who has been beaten down by life, and fought and raged against his circumstances, and somehow come out of it with more kindness and understanding and strength instead of less. He has made his own decisions whenever it was possible, within the set of circumstances doled out to him. From telling his dad to go fuck himself and going to college, to getting back into hunting to avenge Jess (NOT because of Dean—Dean took him home without complaint at the end of the woman in white case), to continuing to hunt after their father died because he wanted to feel close to him (Dean was actually weirded out and sort of disgusted by this), raging and fighting to save Dean from his deal against Dean’s wishes, continuing to hunt and working with Ruby (directly against Dean’s dying wish), drinking demon blood, jumping in the cage, leaving hunting to go be with Amelia, coming back to hunting to save Kevin, fighting with Dean over what he had with Amelia and threatening to leave if Dean didn't shut his mouth, leaving Amelia to go back to hunting (Dean ultimately suggests he go back to her—Sam chooses to stay), trying to kill Benny, demanding to be the one to do The Trials and saying he is going to SURVIVE them—that being the ENTIRE POINT, losing that resolve in a fit of depression but choosing to drop the knife, demanding space from Dean (and being given it), fighting to save Demon Dean who didn’t want to be found or saved, using the Book of the Damned against Dean’s wishes, telling Charlie that this is what he wants—that he used to want normal but now all he wants is to hunt with Dean and that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t have that, unleashing the Darkness in his desperation to keep Dean with him and even saying, “I would do it again” in the aftermath, saving the town being destroyed by Amara, getting into The Cage with Lucifer, leading a team against the British Men of Letters, nurturing Jack, punching Dean in the face when he was going to sacrifice himself, leading more hunters, wielding a gun against Chuck... and that’s just some highlights. Sam Fucking Winchester does not need your bullshit about him being some sad, scared, helpless baby lorded over by mean old Dean who has never let him do anything he wants. 
Yes, in the text itself, there is jealousy and resentment at times, and there is legitimate and righteous anger on Sam’s part on a few occasions. There is blame cast on Dean by Sam for some of these choices/circumstances. Some of those moments where Dean is blamed are legitimate, and some of them... frankly, are not. Within the framework of the fucked up dynamics of the way they were raised, Sam and some fans bristle when they feel Dean is casting himself as the parent he is not, but Sam also has been guilty in the past of trying to reframe himself as Dean’s child when things got tough. Neither of them is responsible for the origin of that dynamic, but they BOTH have responsibility to change it, and they both, ultimately, succeed in doing so. For Sam, his part comes in recognizing and learning to fully own his own choices. Recognizing that he is not a child, and he is certainly not Dean’s child, and it isn’t just “Mummy—loosen the grip”, but Sam has to too—not claim independence only to blame Dean for his choices when his own decisions have an ultimate outcome he is unhappy with. That is a legitimate arc that Sam goes through imo, but he comes out the other side of it, and he and Dean relate to each other much better as peers from then on—and I’d like to note that throughout the entire series, when they don’t relate as perfect peers and teammates, it isn’t always Dean “bossing Sam around”, but Sam also trying to sideline Dean and yes—boss him around. And when they lied and hurt each other and yes, even manipulated each other, Dean most certainly wasn't always the one doing the lying and hurting and manipulating. Always, always, ALWAYS, they both had an understandable point of view, and it was complex, and you could understand why they made the choices they did, even if you thought of those choices as being wrong ones. 
I also would like to point out (because this is basically what I see all of the time) that Dean being hurt by someone or simply voicing his feelings or opinion is in no way abusive or manipulative. Dean is certainly charismatic and loved and his returning love and respect is often deeply desired, but he is not an actual siren, who bends people to his will simply by speaking or being. People are, in fact, able to tell him “no”, and frequently FREQUENTLY do. Further more, no one is owed his affection, his unwavering loyalty, or his trust. He has a right to his boundaries, regardless of if it makes some poor sad sap feel deprived of the “wellspring of coveted love” while he works through things. He can be hurt and angry, and he can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, and he can be flawed, and broken. [Insert Castiel's speech from 15.18 here]. So can Sam. So can Cas. None of them are manipulating each other by virtue of getting angry, feeling hurt, being traumatized, needing space, or having differing opinions or feelings. Sam didn’t punch Dean in the face in 14.12 because he's a cruel, manipulative abuser trying to force Dean under his thumb. He didn’t work behind Dean’s back with Ruby, insist on doing The Trials, beg Dean to use Doc Benton’s alchemy, use the Book of the Damned to cure Dean, pump him full of blood to cure him of being a demon despite the fact that it might kill him, or scream at him and fight him for wanting to get in the Ma’lak box because he “doesn’t respect his autonomy” and “wants to control him” and “doesn’t respect his right to his own body”. He did it because he loves him desperately, and Dean could stand to fucking hate himself less, and he fiercely wanted Dean to live even when Dean didn’t want to or couldn’t picture what that could be like. He didn’t force Dean to do anything simply by opening his mouth to voice disagreement and swaying Dean when he did so. Now reverse that. 
Cas didn't beat Dean into the ground in season 5 because he wanted to terrorize him into never going against Castiel ever again. He didn’t go behind his back dozens of times, sideline him, go MIA, all because he wanted to manipulate and control Dean and punish him. He didn’t throw sassy remarks at him to shatter his self-esteem. Now reverse that. 
*Breathes*
Anyway, fuck "X is abusive” interpretations. 
126 notes · View notes
Text
Tamed
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Summary: Steve is tired of you being rude.
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Bratty!Black!Reader
Warnings: smut, Captain kink, dubcon, blowjob, rough sex, dirty talk, creampie
(A/N: I have writers block so I forced myself to finish this WIP. This is has been a WIP for a loooooong time like one of my first stories but I never finished it 😬. Like, follow, reblog 💜 ✌🏾)
Tagging: @titty-teetee @olyvoyl @donutloverxo @queenoftheworldisdead @zaddychris @harrysthiccthighss @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss (it wouldn’t let me tag you) @iam-laiya @hqneyyincc @liquorlaughslove @brattycherubwrites @mariahthelioness29
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Steve was clearly irritated with you. The way you walked around the compound like you owned the place. How you'd almost fucked up the last mission because you acted like you couldn't listen to his direction. He couldn't help, but think about what would have happened if you'd gotten hurt worse than the few scrapes and bruises you'd ended up with. Being the tiny little thing you were, no more than five foot four you were easily breakable despite how tough you seemed.
Now you were walking around the compound like a pouty brat because you'd been officially benched for a few weeks. He'd ripped into you as soon as you'd gotten home and even though he didn't know it you stood in the shower washing all the dirt and blood on you with blood shot eyes because you'd rather die than admit that he hurt your feelings.
Since then you'd been giving him the silent treatment. When he talked you ignored him. When you felt really annoyed you'd leave the room if he was there. You'd proven you could handle yourself from the start and yet he still didn't trust you and it made you want to throw something at his stupid perfect face.
Except right now you two there the only ones home. It was probably the first time ever that it'd happened. Natasha, Sam, and Bucky were on a mission for once letting Steve have a week off. Wanda and Vision were away on some romantic getaway. Tony was doing business with Pepper. Rhodey had been deployed to Korea for a few months. Bruce was giving assistance to a village that was being ravaged by sickness. Thor was god knows where.
You'd been spending your days either watching bad reality shows, reading, working out, scrolling through Instagram and Twitter, chatting with your non-hero friends, or eating junk food that you'd normally be scolded about. All while acting like Steve wasn't there even though he was annoyingly around you.
You had on a pair of way too short booty shorts that made your ass peek out. When you'd gotten cold and instead of changing into pants you pulled on a pair of thigh high socks. You laid on your stomach with Love and Hip Hop Hollywood playing in the background even though you weren't paying attention, legs up and swaying back and forth.
He'd walked into the common room eyes narrowed as he zeroed into you. You rolled your eyes as soon as you felt his presence. "We need to talk," he pretty much demanded.
You didn't look up, still scrolling on your phone. "Mmmm," you hummed.
"Whatever your problem is this needs to stop," he said.
You bit your tongue before taking a deep breath. You liked a picture that a beauty guru had just posted. "Mhm."
"The games need to stop, Y/N- wait, are you listening to me?" He asked. His voice was sharp. Inside you actually wanted to run and hide, but you were kind of determined to keep up this whole charade.
"Yup," you popped before a yawned escaped from your lips.
He kissed his teeth, chuckling sarcastically before reaching over to snatch the pink device out of your hands.
"Hey!" You protested immediately turning over. "What the fuck!"
"Oh glad to have your attention now," he mocked.
"Give me my phone!" You demanded, standing up to grab it from the much taller man. He held it out of reach and you stood on your tippy toes to make an unsuccessful attempt.
He smirked, kind of enjoying seeing your struggle. "Listen and maybe I will."
You glared at him, plopping down on the couch as you crossed your arms. "You're such an asshole!"
"You know what?" He yanked you up by your arm with a bruisingly tight grip the force making you gasp.
"What the fu-"
"Shut up," his tone was demanding once again. "I'm tired of you walking around here like a fucking disrespectful brat."
As much as you loved to push his buttons, you'd never seem him like this. He rarely cussed. Never had he talked to you like this before. "And, you're being an asshole," you couldn''t stop yourself from saying.
"Maybe if you learned how to follow directions, I wouldn't have to do shit to put you in your place." He'd managed to grab both of your hands, holding onto them tightly. His other hand went to your neck, putting just enough pressure to let you know he meant business. “Wanna keep talking shit?”
It was unlike you to suddenly get so quiet as you bit your bottom lip. This didn’t go unnoticed by him as his eyes were immediately drawn to your mouth.
“So this is what you needed.” He kissed his teeth. “Needed me to put you in your fucking place, huh.”
You shook your head not being able to help yourself as you still made an attempt at defiance. Of course you fucking liked it. Part of the reason you liked to annoy him was because he was kind of cute when he was all riled up. You just weren’t expecting him to go this far.
He turned you around, his hold still around your neck as he let your arms fall. Your back was against his front pressed to his strong chest. Your ass against his now hardening dick. The friction felt so good. You were itching for him to rip your tiny shorts away so he could have his way with you. “Am I going to have to teach you how to be good to your Captain?”
You let out a small gasp then still shook your head once again. “No,” you blurted out. You just couldn’t help it. He brought out the best in you. That doesn’t mean you didn’t want him to fuck you up for it.
“No?” He pushed you forward to where your ass was sticking up in the air. “Are you trying to make it worse for yourself?”
“Steve-“
“Captain,” he cut you off to correct you, ripping your shorts down your legs like you’d wanted him to along with your panties. “You call me Captain when you speak to me until you learn some fucking manners.”
“I’m sorry,” you whimpered.
“Wait, what was that?” He teased as he started to rub your slit.
You didn’t reply instead trying to wrap your head around how he was touching you.
“I asked you to repeat yourself,” He said, his finger settling on his clit.
You licked your lips and tried to swallow your moaning. “I don’t remember.”
“Don’t fucking play with me right now,” he said smacking your ass so hard you knew you’d bruise.
“Captain!” You gasped.
It was like a whirlwind when he picked you up to throw you over his shoulder. You struggled against him, trying to wiggle away as he carried you off. None of it fazed him as you hit his muscular back. All he did was slap your ass your phone and ripped shorts went out of view. Fucking Steve. Those were your favorite pair.
He threw you on his bed, making you bounce up and then back down. “Ste- Captain,” you corrected yourself quickly, “why are you being such a, a-” you tried to find the right word.
“A what?” He snapped, grabbing you by your hair, daring you to finish.
“An asshole,” you finally said.
He grabbed your chin, squeezing your jaw before pulling away to slap your cheek. “Because you fucking deserve it.”
“Ow!” You whined. He ignored it as he forced you off the bed and onto your knees in front of him. Steve undid his pants, sliding them down his body. Your mouth dropped as his cock came into view. It was so long and thick and veiny. Of course even his dick would be perfect. “Holy fuck.”
He took advantage of your open mouth, putting the head on your lips fisting his hands into your hair again. “You gonna be a good cocksucker for me, Honey?” He grunted.
You moaned around him as you hallowed out your cheek. His language was still surprising to you, but you were still turned on like fuck. You pulled away from him quickly so you could take off your tank top, letting your tits fall free before sticking your tongue out so you could suck his dick again.
You tried taking him down your throat, but it wasn’t easy considering how big he was. Hell you had to open your mouth really wide to even take him in your mouth. How would was your poor pussy supposed to handle this. 
"I've been thinking about fucking your mouth for so long, Baby," he moaned as he put a hand on your cheek, smoothing his thumb over your cheek. You looked so perfect like this. Pouty lips around his dick as he fucked your throat, his balls hitting your chin, and your beautiful eyes watering. "You look so pretty with Daddy's cock in your mouth."
Who knew Steve Rogers had such a filthy mouth.
"Stop, Baby," he said, pulling his cock out of your mouth. Your lips were so swollen and cheeks puffy. "Finally you're being a good girl. C'mere." He helped you onto your feet before pecking your mouth. "Look at these pretty tits," he said, bringing his hands up to palm your mounds, tweaking your nipples between his fingers before laying a smack on each other. 
You yelped and tried to back away from him, only for him to grab your wrist again to spin you around. You were back to square one, but this time you were naked. 
"That's it, Baby. Look at that pretty little body. I'm gonna destroy that pretty pussy," he whispered in your ear and you keened. 
He walked you over to the bed and shoved you down so your ass was up in the air giving him total access to your cunt. He laid a smack on it before bringing his hands to your pussy again.
"You're soaking, Baby. You want me to fuck you, huh."
You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of admitting it to him, but yes. In the back of your mind you'd always wanted him. Always wanted him to take you. Dominate you. Fuck you into submission.
He was just now finally taking what he pretty much already owned. 
"Answer me, Y/N. Or else I'll make sure you don't get the chance to cum."
You moaned. "Yes."
"Yes what?" He asked, smacking your ass again.
And, again you let out a yelp. "Yes, I want you to fuck me." And that's when he entered you, full force from behind not even giving you a chance to adjust to his big dick. Your pussy was being forced to stretch around him. As much as it hurt, as much as it felt like you were being violated, you fucking loved it. 
You pressed your face into the mattress letting out a moan into it. "You're gonna act like a bitch, I'm gonna fuck you like one," he grunted. The grip on your ass was bruising. You'd be all kinds of marked up in the morning.
“Captain,” you moaned as he stuffed himself inside of you.
His dick was hitting that spot inside of you. It was driving you crazy. He looked down seeing himself go into you and the way your tight cunt still hugged his dick as he pulled out. It left his creamy wetness on his cock. “Fuck,” he moaned under his breath. “God, that’s such a pretty sight to see. I could take a picture.”
All of that with the way you were moaning for him. Those cute whimpers that kept coming up through your throat. Maybe next time you could make a little movie so he could play it back later.
“See, little girls like you talk all that shit and can’t even take a dick. So pathetic.”
“Yes, Captain,” you cried out. “Yes. Fuck me.” It hurt so good the way he was doing you. The grip he had on your ass and the way he was forcing you to take every single thick inch. He was rutting into you like he had something to teach you and you had definitely learned your lesson. “I’m gonna cum,” you whined. “I’m gonna... I’m, I’m, I’m...”
“Already? Couldn’t even handle it a little bit?”
“Yes!” You screamed into the pillow. “Yes. Yes. Yesyesyesyesyes!” You came undone around him for the first time. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, body going stiff. It felt like every sense had been intensified. He didn’t stop. Keeping up his pace because he wasn’t ready. He needed to make sure he left you all fucked out. Needed to show you who was boss.
“See, that’s such a good girl. Cumming all for your Captain,” he said, grabbing your hair as your pussy tightened around him. It kept going like that for a few thrusts because he was trying to leave you sore and bruised before finally pulling out of you so he could push you onto your back.
He didn’t even give you a chance to react as he entered you again. “Captain!” You were to the point where actual tears were coming down your face. Not that it was going to stop him. Being a whiney little baby wasn’t going to get you anywhere with him. “I’ll be good!”
“That’s right,” he said. “I know you fucking will.”
“I’m sorry for being such a brat,” you sobbed as your body didn’t stop convulsing. He held your legs by your thighs.
“Don’t you ever, ever question my authority ever again.” He was pounding you so good with no mercy. He was so deep you could feel him in your stomach yet your pussy couldn’t get enough.
“I know I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Captain.” You sobbed as you tried to take what he was giving you, but it was starting to be too much.
“See that’s better,” he said not stopping as he fucked you hard. “Isn’t that better?”
You nodded feeling yourself on the verge of another orgasm. Your stomach tightening as he had you feeling like you were bent in half. How the fuck were you supposed to come back from this. There was no way you were letting another man fuck you ever again. No one would be able to fuck you this hard and rough.
He put one of your legs over his shoulder so he could somehow get deeper. You should have known that Steve Rogers would be a perfectionist even when he was hate fucking you. Yet you didn’t want him to ever stop.
“I’m fucking cumming.” You squealed.
“Now you can’t stop cumming on my dick,” he grunted. “Should have fucked the brat out of you forever ago.”
“Yes, Captain, yes,” you cried as you squirted around him. “Fuck, yes.” Your mouth dropped open. The look of desperation and ecstasy was only making him want to fully make you his. Made him want to cum in your tight cunt. Made him want to cum so deep inside of you.
Fuck it he wasn’t going to hold back. He grabbed your hair holding it tight as he finally started to unload inside of you. Wanting to give you every single drop of his white hot seed.
“Gonna cum so deep in this pussy,” he couldn’t stop himself as he rammed so deep inside of you, stilling so he could make sure you felt every inch. The feeling of him flooding your pussy made you tighten around him, gripping his dick like a vice. “Fuck!”
“Yes, Captain!” You raked your nails on his back as his hips stuttered into you before slumping on top of you.
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He took a deep breath as he looked up at you. Surprising the both of you by kissing your lips.
He rolled off of you, pulling you into his arms. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“No. Don’t say sorry.” You shook your head wincing at how tender you felt. “I’m sorry for being a bitch.”
“It’s okay.” He chuckled. “I’m just not used to being talked back to. I actually kind of liked it. That’s why I went so crazy.”
You smirked. “Well, Captain, I can keep doing what I was doing.”
“Don’t push your luck. Or next time I might not be so nice.”
735 notes · View notes
hiiraya · 3 years
Text
lost with you
masterlist
pairing: wanda maximoff x reader
words: ~878
warnings: pining, reader is a gay mess
requested: hope you like it @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ !! :DD
a/n: something short and sweet bc uni’s kicking my ass and my brain doesn’t wanna make proper sentences. happy reading! ♡
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You were lost.
More lost than you'd like to admit.
Right now you were supposed to be training with Bucky and Sam, but you got side-tracked by Tony who led you to his labs while asking you how you were getting by living in the compound with the rest of the team.
It wasn't until after he left you to your own devices to work on one of his projects that you didn't know how to get back to the training room.
It was your own fault, you weren't really paying attention to the twists and turns Tony was taking you through, so you really had no one to blame but yourself now that you were standing by the elevators by yourself like an idiot.
You debated on calling Natasha to come save you, but you had no idea if your friend was even in the building, remembering that she had told you she was going to be out on a job the week you were moving into your new room.
"Y/N?"
Turning your head to the source of the voice, you felt the heat rising up to your cheeks that only appeared whenever a certain witch was around.
"Wanda. Hey"
She smiles at you, your heart racing involuntarily at the sight. "What're you doing here?"
"Oh- Uh, I'm moving in today-" You cut yourself off.  "Actually, I'm meant to be training with Sam and Bucky, but Tony wanted to talk, and the next thing I knew we were at his labs..."
You huff and frown slightly as you slide your hands into your pockets. "Long story short, I got lost and I don't know how to get to the training rooms."
She laughs softly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she throws her head back slightly. You're certain that the flush on your cheeks only deepens, but you're so infatuated with the woman standing in front of you that you'd gladly get lost all over again if meant you'd get to keep hearing that sound come from her mouth.
"That's understandable, it took me a month when I got here to memorise where everything was." She tells you. It's no doubt her way of reassuring you without outright saying it, and you couldn't be more grateful for it. "How about I show you around?"
"Really?"
"Of course! And when we see Sam and Bucky, we'll just tell them why you didn't show up for training." She grins. "It'll be fine, I promise."
When the person you've been crushing on offers you one on one time with them you do what anyone else in your shoes would and say yes.
-
Wanda ends up showing you around the whole building. All the way from the training rooms (somehow you don't see Sam and Bucky, and you weren't complaining at all), to the kitchens, taking you around all the floors and explaining everything that you wanted to know about.
When you two finally reach the compound she shows you all the hiding places she goes to when she wants alone time, making you promise not to share it with anyone else.
"It'll be our little secret" she told you with a wink, and you could only nod, not trusting your voice for fear of saying something embarrassing.
She shows you the path to her room, mentioning that it wasn't too far from yours. If you weren't too busy trying not to read into what she was saying, you would have seen the way she chewed on her lower lip as she watched you take everything in.
"Y/N!"
Both of your heads turn towards Sam when he calls out your name, seeing wave at you with Bucky in tow.
Wanda turns her attention back to you and smile makes your head spin at the warmness that fills your chest at the way it always seems to light up her eyes whenever she directs it towards you. "And I guess that's where our tour ends."
"I guess so."
You greet both of the guys with hugs when they reach you and Wanda. "Where were you, doll? I thought you were joining us for training today?"
They both look at you with understanding when you tell them about your situation, from getting lost by the labs to Wanda coming in and saving you by showing you around, making promises to both of them that you'd train with them the next morning.
You look at her and smile fondly once you've finished recapping your day to the guys. "Thanks again, Wanda, I owe you one."
"Maybe we can watch a movie together once you're settled in, just the two of us."
If any of them notice the way your cheeks heat up as you nod your head, they don't mention it.
Sam watches you as you keep your eyes on Wanda as she leaves, excusing herself when she remembers that she had her own training session with Natasha, raising an eyebrow at you when finally turn your attention back to them.
You shake your head at him, but the grin on his face tells you that he knows about your crush on her, no doubt giving him something to tease you about later on.
Oh boy, you were in trouble.
217 notes · View notes
barcaavengers · 3 years
Text
Weakness || Bucky Barnes Imagine || Pt.2
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Note: It's hereee! First of all I want to thank all of you for the feedback on the first part. It means a lot to me since it has been quite a while since I've written something like this, plus Bucky is a complex character and I'm trying my best to make him justice. I came up with this random idea as I worked on part 1 so I hope you guys can give me some feedback on it. Again, thank you so much!
Disclaimer: Gif not mine. Credit belongs to the amazing@captain-james.
Tags: @hanakin-im-panakin, @evie-pr, @justinekomwriterkru, @felicityofbakerstreet, @maaaaryx, @ijustwantedplums, @winterberryfox, @ttatum14, @pastelbabygirl19, @love-buckybarnes, @forever-aimless, @izzlenizzlebizzle
You have to blink a few times for your eyelids to open, still feeling them heavy from whatever Karli and her crew had injected you with.
"Oh good, you are awake" you hear the girl's voice from a distance, you couldn't focus on anything specific with your gaze, it was all blurry.
"What the hell did you do?" You are surprised that your arms aren't tied when you lift your hand to your head.
"Nothing serious, relax" she says as she comes to your line of vision, your body felt like it was on fire. "We wanted to test something out, you were the best option."
"Why me?" You wince as you sit up, surprised again that they trusted you enough to leave you entirely untied, you wonder for a moment why.
"You are the best way to catch Sam's attention and that is accessible. Sam won't dismiss my calls if we have you. I still called Sarah, just to have him on the edge."
"Leave Sarah out of it" you snarl but your head felt heavy when you did. You have met Sam's sister a while back now, along with her kids. She was a nice, simple, humble woman, she didn't deserve to be brought into this mess.
"Like I said, it was just to leave him on edge" she shrugs. "I have already sent them a message to meet up."
"Karli, I don't know what you are up to but you can't keep doing this" you say. "We know that the Power Broker is after you because of the serum, you can't win the two battles."
"And that's why we need you for the message" she says. A man you hadn't noticed before was in the corner and he was giving Karli a look.
"You want us to help you with the Power Broker?"
"We need to get rid of Captain America first," she says.
"And I couldn't agree more" your arms extend in a gesture. "I told you, we hate the guy, but we don't want to kill him, we just want him out of that uniform and give us back the shield. He doesn't deserve it."
"I used to look up to you, when you first joined the Avengers" she starts. Now it made sense why you weren't tied up. "Then all of the Sokovia Accords happened and you picked a side. You took the side against the government. We are no different."
"We are not the same. You are hurting people! You killed innocent people at the GRC!"
"They wouldn't understand any other way!" Her voice raises as well and you relax your shoulders, you couldn't show her the same behavior.
"Karli, again. I'm asking you to give us a chance to find a way to help you. To help everyone…"
She ignores you as she looks at her phone and looks at the man behind her. They share a look before he leaves. "Come on, he is here for you," she says.
"Aren't you going to inject me with something? Tie me up so I don't run away?"
"I trust you enough to know you won't" she says before she starts walking away, you have no other choice but to follow, but then you notice another man walking behind you.
"So much for trust…" you roll your eyes as you are escorted up the stairs to a balcony. You try to walk further but the man stops you. "Got it. I'll stay here…" so you lean against the wall.
"Is this how things will play out?" You can hear Sam's voice in the distance.
"I wanted to understand you better," Karli says and you frown. "You didn't come alone." Your heart raced at the thought of Bucky being close as well.
"Where is Y/N?" Bucky's deep voice reaches you and the man motions you to move, so you do and stand a few feet away behind Karli. Bucky was staring harshly at Karli, but when you came into his vision his gaze softened in a beat.
Sam extends his hand out to you and you look at Karli who nods her head towards him. You rush to him, reaching for his hand and he pulls you behind him. “Are you okay?” Sam asks over his shoulder and you nod. His brown eyes shifted to look at the girl before you. "You have to end this now…"
"I don't wanna hurt you, either of you, Y/N knows that" she says and your eyes meet hers. "You are just tools in the regimes I want to destroy. You are not hiding behind a shield. If I were to kill you, I'd be meaningless" she explains.
Sam takes a moment and looks behind you, meeting your gaze. "She is after Walker, Sam" you just confirm what he already knows. His hand tightens and then you hear the faint sound of the earpiece in his ear going off. "The Power Broker is after her, Sam. We have to…" and there it is.
"It's Walker…" Sam looks at Bucky and the soldier is quick to jump the balcony, but Karli thinks the same way and jumps as well, pushing him out. Sam and you jump from the balcony, you land roughly, vibrations going up your legs but it doesn't hurt, the adrenaline soothed that impact apparently. Sam kicks Karli against a wall. "I'll send you the location. Go!" Sam instructs, Bucky and you share a look before running off.
"Did they hurt you?!" Bucky asks as you two run.
"Not really!" You say with a heavy breath as you run. "Or at least I don't feel hurt!" You run. "They only injected me with something to knock me out."
"Injected you?" He shouts as he runs, he barely sounded out of breath. "Left!" Bucky shouts and you take the next left. You jump over the back of a car, running down from it and jumping off the hood swiftly to catch up with Bucky. Once in, you two stand still to try to hear where everyone was. "Upstairs" Bucky calls and you two move quickly.
A soldier jumps down from the stairs and pushes you against a wall, you grunt before turning around only to see the man's fist almost on your face. You duck quickly, sneaking under his legs and kicking the back of his knees making him fall against the wall. You deliver a punch on his cheek as he turns around, before sending another one on his stomach making the man bend. You are quick to grab his face and push it against your knee and then back against the wall, knocking him unconscious.
Bucky was fighting another soldier and you went his way. He punches the guy and the man falls down the stairs, but is quick to get back on his feet. You go running to him, Bucky takes your arm and spins you so you can deliver a kick to the man's side, but he catches your leg, chuckling. Your eyes widened for a moment before you lifted your other leg, kicking his stomach and falling hard on the floor with a thud, it hurt, but you were sure that was supposed to hurt more. Bucky stands quickly in front of you, shielding you from the man before he kicks him, sending him flying against the wall and the concrete falling on him. "Stay there," Bucky says to the man who you were sure was unconscious before he moved to you. "Are you okay?" He asks as he offers you his hand, not the vibranium one, to lift you up.
"I have to practice that kick more often" you groan as you pull yourself up, and that's when you get close to him, almost chest to chest. "We should go help Sam."
"We should" his head nods before you two run up the stairs. As soon as you walk through the door you are met with more soldiers. One holds Walker from behind and you see Karli rushing to him with the knife.
"Karli!" You call out, Hoskins appears and tackles the girl.
Your instinct tells you to duck as you see Sam approaching you, his wings open and knock the guy away from you and you look at him. "You owe me" you two chuckle before Bucky appears and punches a man, sending him flying over to the other side of the room.
"You owe me" he mocks and you can't help but smirk. Then, it was like everything happened in slow motion.
Karli kicks Hoskins and sends him flying against a column and you hear the cracking of bones. The three of you turn together to find Battlestar unconscious and blood dripping from his lips. Karli takes off her mask, horror all over her face before she storms off, another male which was the one that was mostly around her, took after her as well. Walker is checking on his friend, calling onto him with no luck or sign of life.
You can't help but find it absolutely odd how the story repeats itself. Captain America losing their right hand man once again. First Steve with Bucky, now Walker with Hoskins.
Walker's expression turned dark, even bloodlust you would say. He wanted to make them pay for killing Lemar. He straps his shield and storms off, jumping off a window without taking a second glance back. "Let's go! Let's go!" You shout at your friends before you all start moving. Sam flies up through the ceiling while Bucky and you start running down the stairs. Your head thought of the good idea of jumping over the handrail and you do, landing smoothly before continuing down the stairs and outside.
"Aren't you hurt after that?" Bucky calls as you two run, letting him lead the way.
"Not really! Probably the adrenaline!" You didn't even have a second to think that that landing should have at least made you limp, you will later question it. Right now you had to find Walker before he found Karli and the two ended up hurting each other.
You approach a crowd of people in the plaza, everyone with their phones out. Sam lands on your side and you glance at each other in question before walking faster in front of the crowd. That's when you see Walker delivering the ultimate blow on a body, you can't tell, but the person was dressed exactly like the man that was with Karli a while back. You gasp at the scene before you, you could see the blood from your spot in the crowd, and then you saw it in the shield. "Oh God…"
The shield that was once used to protect innocents while in the hands of Steve Rogers, now was being used as a weapon against innocents by John Walker. The thought made your heart boil, and you knew the guys shared the sentiment when the three of you exchanged glances before turning to Walker and the crowd. That's when you spot Karli. You could see the tears in her eyes as she brought her hand to her mouth as she gasped. Things were about to get really ugly.
"I have to talk to her..." you say as you share a look with the redheaded.
"Don't...Give her space" Sam says as he holds your forearm.
"Sam, if Walker sees Karli...Things are going to get bad. Please..." the Falcon frowns at your words because you were right, but he knew as well that right now, both their heads were hot with rage and grief and there was no possible way to reason with them this soon.
"We will get to her, but let's take care of Walker first" his head nods at Walker who was now running away. "Let's keep a close eye on him before we engage…"
The three of you were walking, Bucky was eyeing your legs, you arch an eyebrow. He notices the gesture and looks away, "You should be limping at least…" he says and you get even more confused now.
"But I am not?" It sounded like a question, but you were just questioning why he was bringing it up. "What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing. Just…" your eyebrows raise in expectation for his next words. "Are you sure you are okay? Your back?"
"I am, Buck. Relax" you assure him.
"I'm starting to think this was a mistake. If I hadn't given up the shield…"
"There was no way to know this was going to happen, Sam. You did what you thought was right…"
"Too bad this had to happen for you to realize it" Bucky says harshly and you glare at him.
"Not the time to talk about that, Buck" you say.
"Yeah, let's talk about the way you fought those Super Soldiers."
"Give it a rest, Barnes" you roll your eyes in annoyance.
"What's going on between you two?" Sam intervenes.
"She jumped two stories of stairs like it was nothing. No limping afterwards. No time to recover. She also fell on her back and she is…"
"Sorry for not feeling hurt or weak by those things" you roll your eyes.
"It's not that, Y/N…"
"Hold on, you jumped from the balcony too with me. Since when do you do those leap of faiths?" Sam questions.
"Exactly!"
"Guys, I'm fine. You guys have seen me fight before and you know I can take hits, what's the difference of now?"
"That they were Super Soldiers with brute force and you put up a good fight with them" Bucky points out and you frown.
"Maybe they weren't at their full potential, or they took it easy on me. Guys, relax. I'm fine. I'm not hurt, I'm not in pain" you take a quick step in front of them and spin. "See?" You walk backwards, your arms extended.
"I'm still weirded out" Sam eyes Bucky and his gaze towards you was so…different. He was eyeing you like he was trying to find something. "I forgot to say, Walker must have taken a serum because that guy folded a metal pole right in front of me."
"What?!" Bucky exclaims, stopping in his tracks.
"If he took the serum we are screwed. There is no way to stop him."
"We have to find Walker. I'll make a call to Sharon, see if she can find anything" and with that he pats your back and walks inside Zemo's apartment.
"And Zemo, or we are taking over his place." you say as you follow him inside and then turn to Bucky. His arms are crossed against his chest, eyes staring almost into your soul, you sigh in annoyance. "What, Bucky? What?"
"Come here" he says and you eye him questioningly before he takes your hand and pulls you to him. He tilts your head to the side and runs his thumb on your neck, right where you remember being punctured.
"What the hell, James?" You push his hand away and he frowns.
"What did they inject you with?"
"I don't know, Sargeant. I couldn't ask since I was out like the light" you say to him.
"Y/N, can't you see it? You are doing things you wouldn't be doing in normal circumstances…"
"This isn't normal! I'm doing things to keep up with all of this! Ever heard of adrenaline rush? It makes you do these kinds of things" you snap and Bucky's gaze hardens at your tone.
"Guys, I'm trying to talk on the phone. What the hell is going on now?!" Sam asks as he looks between the two of you.
"Someone here can't accept that I can fight against Super Soldiers."
"I would be the last person to say that because we have fought, even when I wasn't me!"
"Then what the hell is wrong with today, James?!"
"There is something wrong with you!"
"I'm fine!"
"Guys, calm down.."
"Why are you questioning all of my moves?!" He stays silent and his eyes look away from you. "I am not helpless..." you say in a soft tone. Right now you felt...You didn't even know how you felt. You felt confused, couldn't choose an emotion to feel. "I'm going to go shower, I need to cool off" you run a hand through your hair as you walk to your room.
"I never said you were helpless, Y/N" Bucky calls from behind you but you ignore him and close the door with a loud thud.
-Bucky's POV-
He watched her walk away, and he couldn't find a reasonable explanation as to why you weren’t hurt from all these fights and moves. He knew enough to know that jumping two stories, for any normal human, would result in pain, a limp, a twisted ankle, but you didn't even flinch. Didn't take you a second to process the landing. No, he isn't saying you were weak because she is one of the strongest women he has met, but he just knew something was off about her.
"Can you tell me what the hell is going on with you?" Sam asked him, his whole expression screaming that he needed an explanation to this sudden argument.
"Something is wrong with her, Sam. I know you feel it too" he falls on the couch and throws his head back. "She has fought me before, I know she is tough and strong but everything she has been doing after we got her from Karli…" he couldn't find the words to end that sentence. He was worried, he needed to know.
"I'm sure you have a theory. Care to share it?" Sam takes the couch on the side of Bucky.
"I don't know anymore..." he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He knows that it just couldn't be what he was thinking. It was too much of a long shot, yet a part of him, that instinct, told him that he was right.
"If this is your way to flirt you are doing a terrible job" Sam teases. "Your way of showing you care is strange, man" he chuckles.
"It's not like I had practice while in HYDRA's control" Bucky says with a shrug, completely sarcastic. "And I'm not flirting. I'm worried…"
"You two are driving me nuts along with Karli and Walker. Go up there, man" Sam says as he stands up and walks to the kitchen.
"Don't forget Zemo" Bucky says and he sighs. He looks after the direction you disappeared to, pondering on Sam's suggestion. What was he supposed to do? Apologize? Kiss you? He wasn't an expert in doing any of those. Kissing you the other day was like an instinct kicking in, and he wasn't even sure it was what you expected from him. Hopefully whatever had to happen once he went to you would be like that. Finally, he stands up from the couch, but not before stopping by Sam, taking the glass the man had just poured his whiskey in, and swallowing it up in one go. "Thanks" he pats the man's shoulder before going to your room.
Sam glares at the man as he pours another drink in the same glass, watching after Bucky.
Bucky makes his way to your room and knocks softly, "Y/N?" He calls from the door, waiting for an answer but there is none. He sighs and turns to leave but he holds back and turns back to the door. "Listen, I-" he trails off, searching for words. "I'm sorry, alright? I guess I overreacted with the whole thing…" he pauses and frowns. "I just...You are the closest person I got, okay? I don't want you to get hurt and I know, trust me, I know you can perfectly take care of yourself and you are strong and you know-" he hears a distant thud and his eyebrow raise. "Y/N, are you okay in there?" He remembers that you were showering so he holds back for a moment, but what if you fell in it? He turns the door knob and when it budges to the movement, he opens the door. No sign of you anywhere, so he walks quickly to the shower only to find that the sound had been the bottle of shampoo falling.
He returns to the bedroom area, and any normal person might have missed it, but he saw the few drops of water from the bathroom door to the mirror, and then to the window. The window was open. "Sam!" He rushes to the kitchen area where Sam was sipping on his drink. "She is gone!"
-Y/N POV-
"So you are asking to meet up now before kidnapping me?" You ask as you sense Karli behind you a few feet away. "My condolences about your friend… I'm sorry we couldn't stop Walker…" You say as you turn around.
"Thanks" her eyes soften for a moment at your words. "Just wanted to check on how you were doing" she says as she tilts her head to the side, eyeing you.
"Why are you worrying about me?" You question.
"You truly haven't noticed?" The redheaded let out a short laugh, if it was a different circumstance, you would find it cute. "Don't you feel different? More adrenaline running in your veins? Feeling like you are unstoppable?" She asks and takes a few steps to the side. "Honestly thought it was going to wear off already, but it seems it lasts longer…"
"What are you talking about?" Oh now you were getting worried. "What did you do to me, Karli?" You hiss taking a step forward.
"Dr. Nagel was working on it a while back, to get the Power Broker off my back with this trick" she explains, and the name of the man who was doing the replica of the Serum was enough to have your heart racing. "Same ingredients, but with a difference, it doesn't last much…Should wear off soon if he was right."
"Karli…" you call onto the girl.
"We injected you with a temporary Super Soldier Serum, Y/N.”
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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years
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∘◦  ღ  ◦∘  Harrison Osterfield - Quarantine  ∘◦  ღ  ◦∘
A/N - I wrote this during the first lockdown that Britain were in. ow we’re in the third, and almost a year later, I’m uploading this onto my Tumblr from my Wattpad. And yes, before everyone says it, I am fully aware that the Holland’s and Haz were isolating in two different houses and haven’t been living together for months, but this makes it more amusing, and as I say, it was written a while ago. I do not know Harrison, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction and entirely my own. 
Warnings - cursing, smut, detailed sex, cockwarming, oral, kinky names, mentions of sleeping around... you know the drill by now.
Summary - Quarantine with a bunch of sex deprived twenty-odd year old boys isn’t your idea of fun, especially not when the only one you want refuses to pay even the slightest bit of attention. Taking measures into your own hands is only simple until you get caught.
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YOU AREN’T SURE HOW, but in some strange twist of fate, you’ve ended up in self isolation with the Holland’s. But it doesn’t end there, no, not just the Holland’s, but Harrison and Tuwaine too.
You have a bed in the attic, the other side of Harrison’s room, but you’re hardly sleeping in it. Seeing as you’re the only girl among an entire collection of (ahem, horny) and barely adult boys, you were most certainly on their beckon call. You didn’t mind being called to Sam, Harry’s, even Tom’s rooms late at night; you simply wished that you'd be asked to sleep with the one you actually wanted. Harrison.
You and he had been friends as long as you could remember, neighbours from age 4 and friends ever since. Even through uni when you studied a double major and you had zero free time, he was still constant in your life. You’d met Tom and the boys, the twins being closer to your age, and gotten on with them all as well. It just so happened that you ended up on a job with Mr Holland, and that’s what brought all of you closer together with you being in their house often to work on this project it also just so happened that you’d been hanging around with them all when lockdown was announced, leaving you to be in trouble if you drove halfway across London to your own home, so they invited you to stay and had any and all necessary items mailed to you by your roommate. You were only trusted to stay with Harrison after your history together and nothing ever having come of you two, though Mrs Holland did not trust the other boys enough with you and therefore did a bed check every night and every morning to make sure you were alone, though it was always a deceitful check on everyone’s behalf. 
You didn’t thank Tom, Sam or Harry post-sex since you’d always have to return to your own cold bed, next to a sleeping Harrison, a sleeping Harrison who wouldn’t dare use you as a booty call like the other three did. It was safe to say that Harrison also had no idea of your truancies since he slept like a light and no one would discuss your actions at the dinner table to save your dignity, and their own necks.
Tonight though, you have other plans. Harrison has some papers to look through and will therefore be sitting at his desk, procrastinating before his computer for hours, only to be left to flick through the contract at an utterly ungodly hour, and he’d proceed to sleep tomorrow, all throughout the day. You were going to help him relax: maybe a massage, a cuddle, a blunt. Or you’d sit on his lap, watch to see whether he’d tense or relax beneath your bare legs, or whether he’d pick up on whose shirt you were to wear. That was the only tell: you’d steal a shirt from each brother to wear as a mark the next day, but you’d simply claim they were more comfortable than your own tight fitting button downs and crop tops. Harrison hadn’t noticed, not yet though as far as you knew, but each brother wore a slight smirk every day that you wore their shirt.
It hurt that Harrison wouldn’t be able to tell with his usual obliviousness, but you’d shower before seeing to him tonight, and wear one of his shirts so that when he got it back it might smell like you, a scent he claimed to enjoy.
As soon as dinner finishes, you leap away from the three boys all vying for your attention.
“I have work to do, and a shower to have. Plus, I’m tired.” You respond to all three on your journey up the stairs, hearing Harrison groan very loudly from the attic, followed by his head hitting the keyboard of his laptop. You smile sadly to yourself, a mix of nervous anticipation and excitement expelling from your body while the water lashes at your skin, soothing any pain or fear you may be feeling. You increase the heat, allowing the steam to fill your pores as you lean your head forwards to keep your hair dry, held in a messy bun.
You imagine his touch all over your bare body, his finger tracing your jaw, but a knock on the door and a yell to hurry up snaps you from your trance, making you turn off the water and wrap a soft towel (that you know to be Harrison’s) around yourself. You scowl at Harry on your way out, in response to which he sticks his tongue out childishly. 
You end up mostly dry after taking a longer than usual walk up the steps to the attic, lingering on each one until the balls of your feet become sore. You peek your head around the door, only to see Harrison in a hoodie and boxers, a grimace on his lips while attacking his keyboard with a ferocity that you’ve scarcely seen. His anger causes you to furrow your brows, silently wishing that you succeed in calming him instead of making him feel worse. 
You slip into a pair of panties and grab your favourite of his shirts off one of the hangers. You pull out your phone under a guise if he spots you, absentmindedly scrolling through your feed while eyeing Harrison. He slows his typing and begins clicking his mouse at the screen slowly, intently reading the reams of white on his laptop. 
It’s time, you tell yourself, standing up from the bed and walking behind him. You place your hands on his shoulders, splaying your fingers and digging your thumbs in. Harrison’s body goes lax, his hands falling from the laptop to the desk, laying his hands flat on the wood. He lets out a groan and rolls his head back, falling right onto the pillow of your chest. You continue to rub his shoulders, enjoying the way he’s slowly relaxing under your therapeutic touch, that is until he swats you away with a small, sad smile. You sigh, having none of it, and crawl your hands down to the hem of his hoodie.
“What are you doing?” He asks, his tone dripping with boredom. “I have this contract to read, you know I do.”
“Exactly.” You reply after thinking for a moment. You want to say the right thing, you want this to go seamlessly, so every word has to be perfect, not to mention every action.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t battle against your bid to remove his hoodie, and obligingly lifts his arms up over his head so that you can pull his jumper off. You toss it to the side and hear something fall to the floor, but that’s somehow the least of your concerns. You reward Harrison with a kiss to the soft, unblemished skin of his neck - but it won’t stay that way, not for much longer. 
You thread your fingers into his beautiful brown locks and tug a little, just to let him know that you mean business. His lips part as though intending to let out a groan of some kind, but it doesn’t come, so with disappointment you continue to play with his hair the way you love to. He doesn’t stop you, so that’s something, right?
When he hasn’t given you attention for too long, albeit about five minutes, you walk around in front of him. His eyes are forced to retrain from his screen to where your breasts show in his top. Apparently, going braless in one of his tops has its perks, not talking about your nipples.
“Looks good on you,” he murmurs. He pushes his chair out and gestures for you to drape yourself over his legs and lap, which you do more than willingly while wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging at the wonderfully soft curls at the nape.
“I know this isn’t ideal, you need to do proper work and be having contact with your girls, but I’ll get you out soon, I know the boys are a lot.”
You simply hum in acknowledgement, adjusting your seat on his bare legs. Skin on skin, electrifying in every sense of the word. 
“That is why you’re doing this, right?” He asks, nervously almost, and you instantly feel as though you’re molesting him, until he wraps his strong arms around your back. You could moan at the contact, his muscles tensing all around you, the feel of Harrison and his smell radiating around you, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
You move your hands to his shoulders and begin to massage again, just from the front this time, a feeble attempt to procrastinate against your goal. Harrison’s gone back to reading his screen, so while he’s still gathering what he’s reading, it’s your only shot.
You twist on his lap until you’re completely straddling him, your forehead pressed to his. The beautiful blue-green of his eyes sends you into a trance, melting your insides. You can swear that you see him nod a little, so you begin to move your hips. You grind and swirl on his lap, undulating your hips in a perfect figure of eight when you feel him harden beneath you.
With your ministrations paused momentarily, you take a sharp intake of breath and say, “This was never about attention because I’ve been stuck with the boys, this is because I want you.”
Harrison’s face instantly melts into an expression of relief, a goofy smile on his (what you hope to be) soft lips.
“I thought you didn’t want me because you were sleeping with the others,” he says, and you shake your head, tears of relief and happiness almost spilling from your eyes. You feel warm and fuzzy despite the guilt, shame and anger bubbling from your truancies with the Holland boys. 
“You knew then?”
“How couldn’t I?” He remarks, “you’re all they talk about when there’s no adults and no Paddy in the room. What they did to you, how many times they made you cry out their names, the marks they tried to leave on you until your own dominant side came out. Every conversation I had to excuse myself out of mainly respect from you, because what they said upset me but I just couldn’t say so, but then I just came up here and imagined what you’d be doing to me.” Your heart hitches in your throat, butterflies filling your stomach and travelling into your every limb, making your skin tingle. Your stomach rises in goosebumps, as does the skin of your thighs, and you notice that it’s because Harrison has his hands underneath your (his) shirt, and he’s skimming over your waist and legs, holding you and savouring the feel of your skin beneath him. He kisses your neck, once, twice, and it’s gone.
He turns back to his computer and continues his work, looking over your shoulder and letting his eyes train every tiny black line of script on his screen. Your neediness is at an all time high, one hand resting absently on your hip, just above your bum while his other hand clicks at his keyboard and mouse like it’s second nature. The speed of his fingers makes you even needier, craving for him to be inside you already, so you climb onto his bare thigh and trap it between your own. 
You dig your hips down into his leg, grinding and aching for friction, and you already know that you’re dripping onto his skin. The fine hair on his thighs gives a delicious amount of friction - not too much but not too little. As you go further, your mouth parts a little more, allowing you to let out a strangled whimper. Your thigh brushes Harrison’s cock through his boxers, and you feel his hand grip your waist tighter, almost painfully.
Your pussy starts throbbing, aching for more of him, while your hands rake his back, leaving scratch marks in their wake. Your head falls to the crook of Harrison’s neck as you approach your high, moving your hips more fervently and letting out moans is anticipation. You wonder if Harrison is even able to pay attention to his contract anymore with what you’re doing to him, but that thought is set to rest when you’re right on the edge, but both of his hands grip your hips and move you off his thigh, the skin glistening with your essence. 
For a minute, you think he’ll be angry, make you clean it up, but instead he just kisses you. His lips catch yours more desperately than you could’ve dreamt, immediately biting down on your lower lip, trapped inside his mouth. You let out the loudest moan you could in the moment, but Harrison finds it heavenly, delving his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss while his hands grip your ass. He pulls away, looking at you with those puppy eyes that he knows you can’t resist. 
“Sit on my cock? Just ‘til I finish this section, then I’ll take you as hard as you want.” 
You look sceptical, and Harrison can tell, you know because he kissed you again and moves his hands from your bum to wrap his arms around your whole body and keep you close to him. His lips pressed against your own is enough convincing, so you move your panties aside and accommodate while Harrison takes his boxers off.
When he does, you’re surprised at how big he is, bigger than any of the lads you’ve been with before. Long and substantial, you want to drool just looking at his dick standing proud against his stomach. Nervously, you slide down on him. His girth stretches your every wall and his tip hits new spots until finally you’re balls deep. He groans and exhales, eyes closed while trying to gather his bearings. 
“Fuck.” He says. “Your cunt bottomed out on my cock, keeping me warm and hard, you’re an angel.”
His words drive you crazy, making you moan and involuntarily clench around him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You wrap yourself around him like a koala bear, craving to have as much skin to skin contact as is possible. Your head lays on his chest to stay out of his way, and he seems thankful to be able to see the screen but also feel you. 
You stay seated on Harrison for no more than ten minutes as he taps away at his keyboard and scrolls through the pages. Occasionally he moves, stimulating you enough for you to gasp or tighten around him, and in those instances he kisses behind your ear. 
You listen to his heart, slowing or increasing its speed depending on your movements. The steady heave of his chest moving with his breathing is strangely calming, making you feel closer to him, more stimulated and comforted, something like love.
Suddenly, his laptop slams shut and he thrusts up into you. You yelp a little and snap your head up, nose nudging with his and your lips grazing. 
“You’ve been driving me crazy, and you’ve done it on purpose. Were you sleeping with the others to get my attention? Am I better than them already? Bigger?” You whimper, his words building a fire inside you. “You don’t have to answer, love, I can already tell by your body.”
You cling to him even tighter than before as he clears everything off his desk, breaking a pencil pot while he’s at it, and you can’t help but chuckle.
“You choose a desk to fuck me on when we have two beds up here, both of which will make a lot less noise?” 
He looks downcast and releases a giggle. “Yeah, didn’t think of that.”
“It’s fine,” you say, cupping his jaw and caressing his stubbled cheek, “you can fuck me harder on this and let the boys know who I belong to tonight.”
He places you down beneath him on the desk, still hard inside you, but instead of attacking you again in a ferocious kiss, he looks down at you and marvels in your beauty just for a moment, his scrutiny surprisingly doesn’t phase you, it only makes you feel treasured, so as your eyes follow the movements of his rippling muscles, he smiles faintly and kisses you softly. 
“Fuck me Haz,” you whisper, those simple words being all the motivation needed, because he pulls out, leaving you whining at the emptiness of only his twitching tip inside your core, but within seconds he pushes all the way back in. 
He feels heavenly, your eyes rolling back into your head and a surprised moan leaving your lips. He smiles down at you before pulling out and thrusting back inside you, setting a steady pace. Every move feels like paradise, every jolt of his hips swindling shockwaves of pleasure through your craving body, having been desperate for him for a good while.
He feels heavenly inside you, his tip grazing that special spot inside you. “Harrison!” You cry, as quietly as you can. He leans down and pulls the neck of your (his) shirt down so that he can get access to your breast, immediately latching his lips onto your nipple, biting at it viciously while pressing his hands onto your spread thighs. You feel yourself approaching an edge, a timed coil curling inside your stomach as his ministrations continue. 
He’s so much better than the others - not that they weren’t good, they have a basic idea of what to do with you and how to use you, and they’re decently sized, but they can’t make you feel the way Harrison can. 
“I’m close...” you whisper between incoherent murmurs. He’s not too noisy, which may or may not be a blessing paired with the slamming and squeaking of the desk beneath your bodies, it’s mostly just breathy grunts and occasional curses.
“Me too, beautiful.” He dances his forefinger up your thigh and rubs circles around your wetness, allowing you to let go.
The coil within springs open, and you feel your body fall loose, vision blurring with stars in your eyes and core clenching around Harrison - it feels like heaven. Feeling this, he climaxes soon after you and to save from screaming, kisses you in a messy fight of teeth and tongues, half muffling the pornographic moans that would otherwise be bound to spill.
Harrison falls down onto you, chest heaving and breathless, but nonetheless he still places open mouthed kisses to your neck.
“I’ll wait for you to get your breath, shall I?” You tease while running your finger up and down his spine. He chuckles and climbs fully on top of you, cuddling you into his chest. “Well, now I can see why you don’t have a girlfriend yet. Can’t even go for one round without ending up flustered. Lucky that I’ll have you no matter.”
He hums into you, holding you and savouring the silence filled with only your breathing and a few sounds from downstairs, but soon the wood becomes too uncomfortable.
Harrison slips an arm beneath you and carries you across the room to his unmade bed, as opposed to your neatly tucked in one with your entire collection of clothes and makeup on top of the sheets, but his bed is probably comfier since he’s always in it. 
“Round two?”
Your heart rate increases, a burning blush rising to the tips of your ears as well as a shy smile snaking its way across your lips, still swollen from Harrison’s attack, not to mention the swollen parts of your skin where he paid a little more attention, leaving marks and memories for days to come.
“I’d like to see you try.” You tease, keeping your cool resolve despite feeling anxious straddling him, his eyes flitting between your chest, eyes and lips, unsure of what to do or how to use his mouth, a definite rarity for someone like him.
He seems desperate, putting his hands on your hips and thirstily jolting his hips upwards - if you’d been a few inches further down, he would’ve been straight back inside you, and maybe that’s what he was hoping for.
“Any hole’s a goal, isn’t that what Tom says?” 
He loves it when you tease him, that much you’re learnt over the years. Every girl he’s been with you’ve found a way to tease him about it, anything he says, anything he does, and he loves it since it usually ends in a play fight and him surrendering control of the tv remote to you. This time however, it ends in something far different.
He tugs the shirt up further and pulls you roughly so that your calves are either side of his neck, your once again dripping core hovering above his face and awaiting tongue. 
“Only if it’s yours.” He says, his breath sending shockwaves through your body straight from your core.
His tongue deftly finds its way through your folds and inside your tensing cavern, and it feels heavenly. His nose nudges at your clit while his tongue laps up all around you, his lips working in tandem while his tongue dances inside you. The moans leaving your mouth are otherworldly noises that you’ve never quite made before, maybe because you’ve never sat on anyone’s face, never mind someone as experienced as Harrison, something that you’re now learning is far from a bad thing. 
“Harrison!” You cry when he delves a little deeper. His eyes remain between your own and the way your boobs bounce inside his shirt while you squirm on top of him. Every noise the pair of you make masks the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs to the attic, and muffle the sound of knocking on the door.
Harrison’s mouth continues its assault on your needy heat, your one hand weaving into his hair while the other massages your breast through your shirt, bringing stimulation to your nipple and bringing your climax closer and closer...
“Haz, we get that you hate work but you really don’t have to make so much noise- OH MY FUCKING GOD!”
You freeze, your recently shut eyes shooting open and darting over to the door, ajar with Tom standing just over the threshold, staring right at the two of you with a face of horror and disgust. Harrison however, bites down on your sensitive nub in his state of shock, and your second orgasm washes over you in such a state of unexpected euphoria that you lose all your bearings. 
You cry out Harrison’s name like a prayer, chanting it while he cleans you up, and it’s not for a solid minute after your climax ends that you realise Tom is still in the room with you, rendered speechless, mouth agape and dumbfounded. 
When you clock what’s happening, you grasp Harrison’s duvet and yank it up to cover you both while you climb off Harrison’s face, his lips still glistening with your cum. He seems lost for words, too, blanching more and more with every passing second. He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. No one moves, except for Harrison’s cock twitching under the duvet.
“It’s not what it looks like...” you say, your words getting lost in the thick tension of the room, like a rubber band pulled so tightly that it could snap at any given moment.
“Really? Because it looks like Harrison was just eating you out!”
You can’t fault Tom's logic, it is exactly what it looks like, so you just blush and pull the duvet up to your chin while wishing for a black hole to swallow you up. 
You can’t help but notice how beautiful Harrison looks though, plump lips and that wonderful glint in his eyes, messy hair and no top. 
“Ok, so it’s exactly what it looks like, surprise?” You can’t figure out what to say to him in the current situation, but instantly feel relaxed when Harrison begins to rub his palm up and down your thigh beneath the duvet .
“What- oh, this is why you called?” Sam now makes an appearance, folding his arms and standing next to a resolute Tom. You can’t decipher if he’s angry, amused or something else. “Our plan worked!” He suddenly shouts, and within seconds, Harry arrives beside the pair, a smirk on his lips.
“Really? So shagging Y/N and talking about it in front of me was all a ploy to get us together? And if so, why does Mr Fancy Pants here look so angry?” Harrison asks, and you can feel him willing his boner to wilt while in the presence of the brothers.
“Yes!” Comes paddy’s voice from the doorway, swiftly standing in front of Tom. 
You smirk, but Harrison scowls, unable to accommodate this situation within his mind.
“He’s probably shocked because he walked in on you two... you know. But yeah, it was all a plan, sorry by the way.” Harry says, you just wave it off but Harrison’s grip on your leg tightens.
“Don’t be angry, it worked didn’t it?” Sam chimes in, patting Paddy on the back before making his way out.
Tom has to have the last word, you can see it on the settling lines on his forehead, so you brace yourself closer to Haz. “And don’t I bloody know that it worked!”
Maybe the drama was worth it for the laugh out of Tom’s reaction, though Harrison would argue with you there.
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twistedtummies2 · 3 years
Text
The Mad Doctor of Night Raven (Commission)
Another commission; this is from the same person who created Tock Crockwork and Caelyum in past stories. This time, we introduce another OC of theirs: Xavier Madoc, based on The Mad Doctor from Epic Mickey. This is also my first time properly writing for Idia and Ortho! :D
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“You sure this is everything you need, me hearties?”
“Nya! It better be! Some of this is heavy!” You smirked as you adjusted the box of electronic equipment in your arms. You checked on your companions, who were carrying similar boxes. To your right strolled Grim, the fire-eared, trident-tailed, cat-like imp. He was carrying a very small box - fitting for his size - while yours was more medium sized. A box matching the size of yours was in the arms of your more human comrade: a tall, slender young man with long, fuschia-colored dreadlocks, dressed all in brown. “Thanks for the help, Cael,” you said to him gratefully. Caelyum De Macabre shrugged cheerily. “Don’t mention it!” he chuckled. “For one thing, helping you get this stuff was part of my job at the Mystery Shop. Sam prides himself on having everything; if I couldn’t find something like all this, he might dock my pay.” “Would he?” you blinked. “Probably not, but he MIGHT,” huffed Cael. “And as for carrying some of this…” His smile became more bashful. “...I owe you both. If it weren’t for you all...I might not have been able to reconcile with Mia.” “How is she, by the way?” you asked, tilting your head, then smirked teasingly. “Have you proposed yet?” “Well...um...yes and no?” chuckled Cael, pausing to flick a stray dreadlock out of his face before continuing. “We had a talk about that, actually, and...we decided it would be best to wait to get married till after I finished school.” “Well, as soon as you have your wedding, make sure you guys send me and Grim an invite!” Cael nodded to say he would, then both of you paused as you heard a sort of growly groan come from Grim. “Having trouble, Little Monster?” Cael asked, tilting his own head this time. “I wish people would stop calling me that,” grumbled the imp, and continued to march onward, tail flicking angrily behind him as the blue flames in his ears crackled faintly. “I’ve got it. The Great Grim won’t be defeated by a box!” He paused, blinked, then mumbled: “That’s something I didn’t think I’d say today…” Both yourself and Caelyum snickered.
“Why’d the otaku guy ask for all this, anyway?” Cael asked as the three of you continued on. “It’s for the science expo!” Grim said. “Science expo?” frowned Caelyum. “Idia’s final exam,” you nodded, and explained: “Crowley is holding a science expo here in a couple of weeks, and Idia has to create something for it for one of his classes.” “Well...cool, but why are YOU guys getting it?” “Because the thought of leaving his room multiple times to take multiple trips nearly made Idia have a heart attack,” you answered, dryly. Cael blinked...then sighed. “Yeah,” he muttered. “From what little I’ve seen of Shroud, that sounds about right.” “I hope he appreciates the help,” huffed Grim, and bounced the box of equipment in his little arms as he continued to march forward, moving ahead of you both. “It’s not easy hauling all this from the Mystery Shop all the way Igni-YIPE!” Grim let out a shrill yelp, and fell back onto his bunce; he’d bumped into something, which hit the floor with a crash. The box full of equipment fell to the ground. Yourself and Cael quickly but carefully put down your own boxes and hurried to gather the fallen items and inspect them swiftly, while Grim growled and rubbed his sore haunches. “Nothing’s damaged,” Cael sighed with relief. “Are you alright, Grim?” you asked. “No,” pouted Grim. “My dignity is wounded, and it’s hard keeping it intact as it is.” You smirked affectionately. “Oh my gosh!” exclaimed a new voice. “Are you okay?!” The three of you looked up to see a new figure rushing towards you all. The figure was a young man, dressed in the black-and-blue, informal, leather-jacket-clad dorm costume of Ignihyde. His skin was pale, and he had moppish hair, which had been dyed mint green with blue tips. His eyes were heterochromatic, and similarly colored: one was emerald, the other cobalt. He was somewhat gangly in build, yet handsome in features. “Nya...I’m not hurt, if that’s what you mean,” Grim muttered out, stumbling back onto his hindpaws and dusting off his fur. “I wasn’t talking to you!” the young man snapped, catching Grim off-guard...then knelt down to what Grim had bumped into. “Abe! Abe, are you okay?” The figured Grim had bumped into, you soon realized, was a robot. It was dressed like a porter, and - in contrast to the synthetic skin and almost fully human appearance of Ortho Shroud - had a decidedly mechanical, industrial look: all metal plates and gear-twisting joints. Its face was mask-like, with two yellow lamps for eyes. The robot shook its head with a whirring noise, as if to clear it, then the mute bot - it had no mouth - nodded to the young Ignihyde student. The mint-eyed boy sighed with relief, and smiled at the bot as if it were an old friend, patting its shoulder. Then, he glared at Grim almost childishly. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?!” the lad snapped. “Me?!” snapped Grim, stomping one foot angrily, ear-fire flaring up. “Your stupid robot was the one who bumped into me!” The green-and-blue-haired youth gasped, looking deeply offended, and hugged Abe close. “Don’t listen to the mean little raccoon, Abe,” he crooned to the bot, stroking the back of its head like it was his child. “You’re perfect just the way you are.” “I AM NOT A RACCOON!” screamed Grim. “I don’t even LOOK like one; why does everyone keep calling me that?!” The student from Ignihyde was too busy fawning over his robot like it was a spoiled child to answer. The robot squirmed, its yellow eyes flickering; you got the feeling that if a machine had the power to blush, Abe would have been doing so from all the attention. Grim pouted and grumbled while yourself and Caelyum stepped closer to address the newcomer, who helped the robot to its feet. The machine called Abe clattered and clanked a bit as the young man pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket and began to check over the mechanical wonder’s form. “Buddy, I keep telling you, you have to make sure to look both ways,” whispered the young scientist. “Maybe some of your circuits need rewiring; it’s like your memory bank has a hole or two in it somewhere. Tch. My fault for using-” “Excuse me,” you spoke up. “Who are you?” The Ignihyde student looked to you...then smiled. “Oh, hey there!” he said, waving with the hand that held the screwdriver. “Name’s Xavier. Xavier Madoc, if you, ah, wanna get all formal and stuff, heh. I’m a, uh, first year here in the dorm. I was just taking my buddy Abe here for a tour around the campus!” He patted his robot’s back; Abe stumbled forward, and rubbed his arm, looking a little nervous as he nodded to you in greeting. Sensing the AI’s anxiety, you gave a disarming smile of your own and bowed your head in return. This seemed to make Abe perk up a bit. “Nice to meet you both,” you said. “Speak for yourself,” mumbled Grim. “Hey, not Abe’s fault you’re an imperfect specimen of biology,” frowned Xavier. Before either yourself or Grim could point out Abe was clearly not a perfect machine, either, Xavier’s eyes lit up with recognition as he noticed the other member of the party. “Oh, it’s you again! Kale, yeah?” “Cael,” De Macabre corrected, with a mild smile. “Is this your presentation for the science expo?” “Pffft! Oh-ho, yeah, like...c’mon. Making artificial life? That’s, like, SO twenty years ago,” Xavier snorted. “Nope! I’ve got somethin’ a whole lot bigger in mind! It’s gonna REALLY put me on the map!” “After how much all those parts cost you, I should hope so,” mumbled Caelyum. “Hold on, back up,” you said, giving a  “time out” gesture. “The two of you know each other?” “Only peripherally,” admitted the shopkeeper’s aid. “Just like you guys, I helped Xavier pick out some items for his project.”
“Cool,” you commented. “They work perfectly, by the way!” Xavier butted in, and then giddlily clapped his hands. “Ohhhh, this is gonna Rock. The. World. Like, if there was a world, and my new invention could hold it, it would just…” He made explosive noises as he mimed shaking something in his hands, then puffed them out with a long, whining “Aaaaaah!” noise. “...That would be it,” he declared, grinning from ear to ear. “Nothing is gonna top this one, nothing!” “Well, you seem pretty confident,” you chuckled. “Trust me, if there’s one thing I know...well, actually, I know, like, a lot of things, I guess?” Xavier frowned, turning his eyes heavenward as he counted on his fingers. “I mean, there’s, like mechanical engineering, alchemy, anatomy, welding, potion making, computer science...basically, yeah, if there’s one thing I can do, it’s how to make something awesome. With SCIENCE!” The last word was spoken with great melodrama, complete with Xavier lifting one hand theatrically, throwing his head back with pride and puffing out his chest arrogantly. Abe seemed to roll his eyes at his creator’s hammy attitude. “I wouldn’t get too cocky,” Cael said warningly, as he stepped back to lift his box up off the floor. “Yeah! Especially with all this to contend with,” Grim grinned a little smugly, picking his own box back up as well. Xavier frowned as he saw you lift the third and final box, now looking both curious and perhaps borderline suspicious. “Yeah, about that...what’s with all the toys?” he said, pointing to the box with a slight frown, as if the items within were beneath him. “Is there, like, a kid entering the expo, or are you cleaning out trash…?” You blinked, and the three in your party shared looks. The strange part about that comment was it didn’t sound like it was meant to be an insult. Xavier seriously seemed to see the tools in the boxes as inferior. “These are for Idia. Your dorm head,” you said, slowly. Xavier’s eyes widened, and so did his smile. “Oh! Oh, COOL! So, wait, holdupholdupholdup...you’re saying Idia Shroud - THE Idia Shroud - is gonna come outta his hideout and tussle with the muscle at the contest?” “That’s...one way of putting it, yep,” you answered unsteadily. “That’s TERRIFIC!” Xavier exclaimed, clapping his hands and bouncing on his heels with giddy delight. Abe tilted his head with curiosity, and Xavier, noticing the robot’s reaction, decided to explain. “When I beat Idia, that’ll be, like, the best thing ever!” Madoc told Abe. “I can finally show just how perfect and brilliant my machines are! Abe, it’s gonna be DA BOMB! HA HA HA!” Xavier cackled with almost unhinged delight, pumping his fists. Abe turned his lamplike eyes towards your group. You see what I have to put up with? he seemed to be saying. “Be wary,” Caelyum warned. “You shouldn’t underestimate Shroud: he’s dorm head for a reason. He literally made his own brother, you know; have you made anything that impressive before?” Xavier looked to Cael...and his smile fell. A sudden coldness came over his expression, and his eyes narrowed. “Are you saying my machines aren’t impressive?” he whispered, his voice lowering an octave. “No, I don’t think he’s saying that at all!” you interrupted, sensing the tension and wanting to cut it short. “Just...um...Idia’s not half bad either, you know.” Xavier smirked, but his eyes were still glittering like emerald daggers. “Hmph. He may be dorm head, but he’s got nothing on The Madoc,” Xavier boasted, jabbing a thumb at himself...then, his eyes brightened, and his whole being became exuberant once more. “Hey! Hey, you should totally come see the expo! All of you! That’d be great!” “Then we could see you win, huh?” you smirked right back, already sensing his thoughts. “Well...or see the others lose,” he said with a sinister laugh. “Your choice of how you wanna word it.” “Nya...that seems a jerky way to put it,” grumbled Grim, but no one paid attention to him. “Well, Crowley is probably gonna ask us to do something there anyways, with his track record,” you muttered. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw you there.” “Perfect,” smiled Xavier, then cocked his head innocently. “Uh...right, I, ah...yeah, just realized I never got who YOU were?” You gave your name quickly. “I’m Prefect of the Ramshackle Dorm,” you explained, and pointed to Grim. “This is Grim.” “Aww...nice that your dorm allows pets.” Grim looked like he was pondering the many ways he coil make life excruciatingly painful for Xavier Madoc. “Why do you say that?” Cael spoke up. “Does yours not?” “Honestly, I dunno,” shrugged Xavier. “I’ve never had a pet. Never wanted one, really.” He tapped Abe on the chest; the robot - who had been staring off at something on a wall - jumped at the clanking on his abdomen. “I just deal with machines,” he said. “Pets are so...fussy. And unpredictable. You have to feed them and clean up their mess...my machines are clean and easy to handle. A machine can’t leave you or get sick; if there’s a malfunction, just a touch of oil or a twist of a wrench, and it’s all fixed, usually! And, hey, if something breaks, I can just rebuild it!” Abe looked hurt. “Oh, not you, buddy,” Xavier chuckled, patting his metal shoulder. “You’re irreplaceable.” Abe seemed to smile, but since he had no visible lips, you couldn’t tell. “I think it’s a good thing to have pets,” Caelyum argued, then gave a joking smile. “Maybe you should buy a lab rat or something?” Xavier shuddered. “Right, and be around animals AND people? Thanks, I think I’ll pass.” “And you were teasing Idia about leaving HIS hideout?” Grim taunted. Xavier glared at him. “I’m not scared of people,” he protested. “I just...don’t like crowds. I don’t like most people, either.” “You seem to be chatting easily with us,” you observed. “Well...yeah, but…no offense, I’m not gonna be inviting you to my lab anytime soon,” Xavier smiled weakly. “I like my privacy, that’s all.” You weren’t quite sure how to respond to that. “Speaking of,” Xavier went on, without waiting to see if you WOULD respond, “I gotta get back to work: I’ve gotta work out some clibrations for my new invention, then maybe see about modifying Abe’s storage banks, not to mention figuring out a few blueprints for future projects…” “Jeeze, don’t you do anything fun?!” Grim exclaimed. “Science IS fun,” huffed Xavier, sticking his nose up snootily. “And I don’t see a reason to stand here and be insulted by a furball.” While Grim sputtered, offended, Xavier looked to Abe. “Come, my friend!” he called out, theatrically. “Back to the laboratory!” Abe saluted, and he and his creator turned on their heels before marching away. The metallic footsteps of the robot echoed down the hall for several seconds after they vanished from sight. “I don’t like him,” grumbled Grim. “We gathered that,” Caelyum smirked. “He seems...eccentric,” you murmured, then shook your head. “Then again, I guess it’d be hard to find anybody at this school who ISN’T at least a little bit odd.” “He seemed like a good sort to me,” Cael nodded, then frowned thoughtfully. “Perhaps a bit too sure of himself for his own good...not to mention a little too antisocial…” “Hey, I’ve dealt with Idia; trust me, that was nothing on the antisocial level,” you scoffed, as the three of you went down a side passage and headed off to find Idia’s room. “That’s not quite what I mean,” mumbled Caelyum, and then went on, aloud. “You know the donation jar at the Mystery Shop?” “You mean for the Medical Center?” “Yeah,” Cael said. “He didn’t donate anything. That’s not surprising, I guess, and it wouldn’t have really bothered me at all - donations from customers are hit and miss, always - but when I asked him if he’d like to make a donation, his response was…unsettling.” “Nya?” Grim meowed, one ear flicking with curiosity. “And what did he say?” “He said, ‘Sorry, but there are too many people out there to worry about the sick ones.’” You blinked...then scowled. “Okay...that’s...not very nice...and a little confusing,” you murmured. “Yeah,” Caelyum said. “The weirdest part was he then started rambling about the machines in the Medical Center. He seemed more interested in how the machines worked than what they actually did to help people.” You glanced back over your shoulder. Now, you were starting to feel worried. A person that strange, that obsessed, and that sure of his own superiority… ...Suddenly, Xavier’s eccentricities were starting to take a more sinister undercurrent. “Let’s just forget about him,” snorted Grim. “Come on, the scaredy-cat’s waiting!” “Right,” you muttered, then shook your head to clear it, and picked up the pace, this time taking the lead yourself. “Come on, you two...if Idia’s going to have any shot at that science expo - Madoc or no Madoc - he’ll need these parts.’
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Several weeks later, the science expo at Night Raven College commenced. Various students from across the campus were readying their inventions and projects. You had been right, of course: the Headmaster had, indeed, demanded that you attend the expo. As custodians, your job was to help those preparing their experiments, and to clean up any messes that might come up. By some miracle, not a drop of an acid, nor a bit of any base, had yet to stain the floor, and nothing solid had broken. Of course, that could change at any time, so yourself and Grim wandered around the expo, peeking at different experiments on display. A lot of what was being shown you didn’t fully understand - science had never been your strongest point - and, truth be told, the majority of the students involved were not ones you knew personally. There were, however, two familiar faces you were hoping to see. “Nya...where are the Shrouds?” meowed Grim, flicking his tail from side to side and blinking his big blue-green eyes up at you. “Shouldn’t Idia and Ortho have set up their panel already.” “Yeah, they should have,” you nodded. “Maybe they just didn’t get things ready in time?” “Not the way I heard it.” The voice caught your attention, and both yourself and Grim smiled as you saw who it belonged to. “Oh, Cael! So you came here after all, huh?” you grinned. “Yup. I actually invited Mia, but she couldn’t make it; some kind of royal business,” the shopkeeper’s assistant shrugged. “I wanted to see how the items Sam and I sold were being used, so I asked him if I could get out of my job at the Mystery Shop a few hours early to check things out.” “I see. I’m sorry to hear Mia couldn’t make it,” you said, sympathetically. Caelyum smiled gently. “For years I lived without her,” he said, faintly. “Even if we’re not together, my heart will always be with her...and hers with mine…” “Ugh...gag me,” sneered Grim. “You don’t have to make it sound so dramatic, you know; you’re a bigger ham than the guys at Pomefiore!” Cael blushed and you giggled. “Anyway...Ortho told me he and Idia had finished their work,” Caelyum informed you and the imp. “They actually have it stored here at the hall, since they felt that would make it easier for transport and setup.” “That’s strange, then. Even Idia usually isn’t late for these things,” you murmured, looking a little concerned. “He’s not?” Cael asked, curiously. “I would have thought, with his reputation, he would try his hardest to avoid them.” “Well, Idia usually has Ortho attend the Dorm Leader Meetings - and other events - and then uses his computer to do a voice stream from his room,” you explained. “That way he can make his presentations without having to face the crowds directly. There should be no reason for at least one of them to not be-” “Excuse me! Pardon me! Coming through! Thank you!” “Idon’twannagoIdon’twannagoIdon’twannagohelphelphelp…!” Grim turned around fast at the sound of the familiar voices, and tugged on your leg, pointing in the direction they were coming from. Both you and Cael quickly looked in the direction he had indicated, and saw the crowd of students and helpful staff members parting… ...Revealing the form of Ortho Shroud, who all but skipped merrily along through the campus convention hall where the expo was being held, dragging along what looked like an enormous black-and-blue bag. You quickly realized the “enormous bag” was really Idia Shroud, who was lying belly down on the floor. His dead-white hands were holding up his hoodie in a steel-knuckled grip, while his glowing blue, ethereal hair spilled across the floor from under it. Ortho noticed your group soon enough; his cybernetic eyes widened, and he waved, trotting over to three of you. You looked to Caelyum, who was staring bug-eyed, stunned by the bizarre tableaux. You had to admit, it said something that, somehow, you were a lot less weirded out. “Hi ya, Prefect!” Ortho chirped in his electronic way, as he stopped a few feet away from your trio. You could see that, now at a standstill, Idia was shaking like a leaf. “Uhhhh...hi,” you greeted awkwardly. “Nya! Why are you two so late?” Grim grimaced. “And what exactly is going on?” Cael asked, sounding like he was trying not to shout that out in confusion. “Oh! Well, um, Big Brother’s thingamajig that he uses for remote conference? It, uh...kinda had a malfunction,” Ortho said, an embarrassed smile flickering behind the mask-like apparatus on his android face. “Malfunction?” the three of you repeated, looking at each other, and then back at Ortho. “Yeah,” Ortho said, and scratched the back of his head. “My brother convinced a stray cat into our room so he could give it some food...but when he tried to snuggle it, it bolted back out the window, and knocked the device off a table and onto the floor. We...didn’t have time to fix it.” A keening whine from Idia made it hard from you to determine if you should laugh or just feel sorry for the poor, anxious noble son. “Yeesh...and that’s what all this is about, huh?” “Yep!” Ortho siad, cheerily. “Big Brother still has to attend his final for the class, after all! So I made sure to get him here with enough time to set up shop!” Ortho’s chest was puffed out with pride; you swore, if he had a tail, it would have been wagging like a puppy’s. You couldn’t help but smile, even as Grim and Cael both rolled their eyes, crossing their arms over their chests. “Well, good job, Ortho; that’s being responsible!” you said, and playfully patted the boy-like droid’s head; you would never understand how that fire-like hair DIDN’T burn your fingers, but no matter. “I’m sure once he’s done having a panic attack, he’ll be proud of you.” Ortho giggled happily and his eyes crinkled with another sweet “smile.” You now turned your attention to Idia, as Ortho released his leg. The instant, Idia felt his leg being let go, he stopped shaking and froze. Slowly, he rolled onto his back...and huge amber yellow eyes, glowing like warning lights, peered out from behind the hoodie. Idia took one look at the crowd in the hall, and the faces looking at him...and squeaked like a mouse before hiding his face. He clumsily tried to get to his feet and run away...only to let out a shrill, strangled sound as he tripped on his own feet and fell over. Ortho let out an “eep!” and rushed to catch hold of his brother before the computer genius could eat tile. “Nervous, Idia?” Grim drawled with a smirk. Cael couldn’t help but chuckle as Idia whimpered with terror, quivering once again. “P-People,” came Idia’s voice behind his hood. “Too...t-too many people...please...t-take me back to my room...I-I’d rather watch the English dubbing of Ghost Stories than do this…heck, I’d rather play Iron Gear: Survive than be here...!” “Not till you finish your presentation,” Ortho said. “Come on, Big Brother! Show everybody how cool you are!” “I don’t wanna be cool!” Idia nearly sobbed. “Please, not this! Not…” He gulped and nearly choked on the next words. “...T-Talking to people...having them judge me...no, no, not that…” Idia shook his head behind his hood stubbornly. Ortho looked at you helplessly. You sighed and knelt down to Idia’s level. You cautiously reached out to the trembling socially anxious scientist, who whimpered as he felt your hands brush against him, and curled up tightly, as if afraid of being struck. With a sympathetic smile, you carefully parted his hands and pulled down his hood. His face now fully exposed to the outside world, Idia blinked his giant yellow eyes at you with real fear. His dark lips were trembling, and you swore those golden irises were getting a little misty as he looked on the verge of crying with fear. You could hear his shark-like teeth chattering as if winter had come early that year. “Idia,” you said softly, “It’s got to be done, and you’re the only one who can do it.” “Why is that?” peeped Idia, childishly. “Because it’s YOUR creation, Idia,” you said, with an encouraging smile. “No one knows it better than you do.” “Yeah! It’s not like we can talk about all this science-y junk!” Grim broke in...then subsided when Idia reacted by looking hurt, while Ortho gave him an almost murderous glare. “The presentation only has to be a few minutes long,” Cael thought to put in helpfully. “A few SECONDS is too much!” Idia said, and hurried to try and hide his face again...but you prevented it with your hands as you carefully held his wrists. His black-nailed fingers twitched with mortal dread as he looked into your earnest, honest eyes. “Idia, does Ortho know anything about the project?” “Well...n-no, not enough to tell them everything,” Idia admitted, squirming uncomfortably and almost guiltily, like a child admitting he’d stolen five cookies from the cookie jar. “Is there anybody else who could give the presentation on your behalf, with the knowledge you have?” Idia blinked. Those last few words seemed to have stirred something in his breast, and he looked at you anew, blinking a few times, as realization dawned on his pale face. “...No...I guess not,” he said, softly. “Well then?” you urged, tenderly, raising one eyebrow. Idia bit his lip; his sharp teeth almost drew blood. (Almost.) “...But...b-but I’m scared,” he cheeped out, like a wounded baby bird. It took all your willpower not to kiss his forehead. How could a denizen of the Underworld be so friggin’ cute?! “It’s okay to be scared,” you assured him. “Being brave means doing things even though you are scared.” “No, being brave means enduring unpleasant situations without showing fear,” Idia droned. “That’s literally in the dictionary.” “And how brave do you think the Lord of the Underworld was when he fought the Mighty Hercules?” “A lot braver than I am!” Idia replied, without missing a beat, and promptly hid his face again, rolling onto his side, like a child refusing to get out of bed. “I’m not doing it!” You bit your own lip, and looked around awkwardly. A LOT of people were staring, and that was only going to make Idia feel worse. You had to pacify this quickly. “Mr. Shroud.” You blinked up at Caelyum, who knelt down beside you with a reassuring smile of his own. Idia peeked out of his hoodie timidly. “Wh-What?” “Once this is over, I’d be happy to give you a free Jumbo Jar of Jelly Babies from the Mystery Shop as a reward for your efforts,” Cael offered. Idia’s eyes went wide at the mention of so much candy. “...F-Free?” “Yes,” Cael nodded. “I’ll just put my own money back into the shop to make up the expense. BUT,” he said, in a stern, almost parental tone, holding up one finger, “You have to at least try to make your presentation first.” Idia licked his lips, but he still looked uncertain. “...What if they don’t like my creation, though?” he whispered, shivering a little. “They’ll love it, Big Brother!” Ortho declared. “It’s the best thing ever! You’re so smart, it has to be!” “And all three of us,” you thought to add, “Will be there. Myself, Cael, and Grim: we’ll be watching and cheering you on.” Idia squirmed again. “...The watching part I could live without, but…” Finally, at long last...he gave a scared, small, hesitant smile. “...The cheering part...I-I’d appreciate it,” he chuckled, and seemed to perk up a bit. “And, h-hey...I get lots of candy out of it, yeah?” “Sugary gummies galore,” winked Caelyum. Idia paused once more, and took a deep breath, before finally relenting: “F-Fine...I’ll...I’ll try not to screw up...” “That’s the spirit, Brother!” cheered Ortho joyously, and helped Idia to his feet. Idia gave a nervous nod to his brother, then gave you a shy wave and a smile that showed just a hint of his pointed teeth, as the young android led him away to another part of the hall. Both yourself and Caelyum stood to your full heights and sighed with relief. “Sam’s gonna kill me,” he mumbled. “He gets pretty strict with inventory; I think it’s the con-man in him…” “Just don’t make a deal with him, and you’ll be fine,” Grim giggled. “You know, maybe another incentive we could have used was a chance for ‘snuggle time’ with a certain ‘Little Monster,’” you said, airily, giving Grim a teasing smile. The cat-like little beast blushed bright red, and his ears flared up. “Th-That’s not funny, Minion!” he snapped, huffishly, while Cael chortled merrily at the thought. Just then, another laugh was heard from the far end of the hall; you recognized it instantly. “Xavier?” you murmured, remembering the strange scientist from a few weeks ago. “Sounds like the judging has begun,” Caelyum remarked, as he noticed a group of official-looking gentlemen, along with some students, gathered in the area. “Nya! Let’s go see what’s up!” Grim suggested, and loped off on all fours to do exactly that. You and Caelyum shrugged to each other, and followed at a casual pace. You soon came to the panel hosted by Xavier. To one side stood Abe, who had traded out his porter’s costume for a buttoned-up labcoat...although, amusing, he still wore his porter’s cap upon his head. The mechanical man’s mask-like, expressionless, featureless face somehow still managed to look rather bashful as he waved shyly at the mob that now surrounded the corner spot. It was Xavier Madoc himself, however, who most arrested your attention. He stood in front of a table, over which was draped a light gray table cloth...and on top of that was a large, oddly-shaped...something. No one could tell what, exactly, for a second tablecloth - also colored gray - was covering it. Xavier was dressed in a long labcoat, which stretched past his knees and halfway down his shins. Underneath this, the eccentric inventor wore blue jeans and white tennis shoes; the former was held up by a peculiar teal-colored belt. A light gray midriff shirt, with black pinstripes, was perhaps the weirdest part of his ensemble; emblazoned on his chest, upon this shirt, was an unusual design: a black-stenciled image that, on one side, resembled a skull, while the other side resembled a clockwork gear, the two parts meshed together unsettlingly. With his wild, wide grin and the way he bowed to the crowd - more like a circus ringmaster than a distinguished scholar - one couldn’t help but find him a most uncommon figure. “Ladies and gentlemen...and undecided!” he greeted, and laughed at his own joke (no one else did, but he didn’t seem to care) before continuing: “Allow me to introduce myself: I am Xavier Madoc! Also, allow me to introduce my trusty counterpart, Abe! His name stands for Assistant Bot Extraordinaire. Yeah, ha, not the most, uh...SCIENTIFIC name I could’ve come up with, but what can I say? I liked the acronym.” Abe rolled his electronic eyes and nodded to the judges, who nodded back before refocusing on Xavier, who rubbed his eyes as he moved to the opposite side of the table from Abe. “Friends and colleagues of science, let us talk about emotions, shall we?” he began, still speaking in an almost carnival-esque tone of voice, which made Cael roll his eyes and scoff. “He sounds almost like Sam at times,” the Swamplands native mumbled. You and Grim smiled at him, then looked back at Xavier as he began his spiel. “Emotions are a fickle thing,” Madoc said, lifting a finger in emphasis. “Emotions can be our strength, but they can also be our weakness. What a beautiful world it would be if we could all be logical, without those...pesky things like jealousy or greed to spur us in the wrong direction. Even here, in a school of black magic, love is just as revered as vengeance. There is a reason, of course...two, really. One, I would argue, is human frailty. We cannot help ourselves; we are, very tragically, made to be feeling creatures more often than thinkers. But another is perhaps more practical, in this particular world...and that, my friends, is that we need it as fuel. Magic is a powerful entity in our world, arguably more than science, and while it is not uncommon for the two to mesh together, no one has found a way to properly harness the power of the human spirit that allows our magic to work. Well, my friends...I, Xavier Madoc, have found the solution to that quandary!” So saying, Xavier through out both arms in a grand gesture and sang out: “TA-DA!” Silence. Nothing happened. The judges and the crowd just stared at Xavier awkwardly. Xavier blinked, then looked to Abe, who was looking around the room blithely. He frowned and whistled, getting the droid’s attention. “Abe,” he said, and pointed to the table. “You’ll want to take off the tablecloth on that cue, ‘kay, buddy?” Abe nodded, and scooted closer to the table. “Thank you,” whispered Xavier, and tried again, louder: “TA-DA!” A horrible grinding sound was heard as Abe grabbed the tablecloth on the table, nearly knocking over the item under the second veil as he gave it a tug. Xavier yelped for him to stop, and swooped in just in time to right the object before it could crash to the floor. You forced yourself not to laugh; Grim and Caelyum were not inclined to do the same. “So much for ‘the perfection of machines,’ huh?” the fluffy little imp whispered. “Hush!” you scolded...but internally, you conceded he had a point. Abe shuffled sheepishly as Xavier brushed his mint-and-cerulean bangs from his face and gave him an impatient, toothy smile. The dark doctor-in-training could hear some of the crowd snickering, and he hated it. “Not THAT tablecloth,” he said through clenched teeth, and pointed to the device under the covering. “THIS tablecloth. Got it?” Abe nodded, looking like a scared child. “Thank you,” Xavier sighed in frustration, and took a deep breath before trying one more time: “TA-DA!” Finally, Abe swirled off the right tablecloth with great panache. Underneath it was unveiled a strange machine, about the size and shape of the average backpack. Most of it was covered in white leather, but several mechanical apparatuses were jutting from it. Among these were two large copper tanks on either side, several steel cylinders, and two long tubes of tough, transparent rubber, which led from one of the sets of caps into the copper tanks. Two beige-colored leather straps were attached, and it was into these straps that Xavier slipped his long, lanky arms, putting the strange pack on his back. “Introducing my newest invention!” Xavier declared with a beaming, proud smile. “The Emotion Reservoir Power Converter - or ERPC, if you want to shorten it. We can’t all have cool acronyms like Abe, heh...ANYWAY! I would argue that negative emotions have more importance here than positive ones: Blot is the result of an overabundance of black magic use, and much of dark wizardry involves the channeling of negative power. The ERPC can drain small doses of negative emotional energy directly from the subject, and then convert them into magical energy, without the user suffering a state of Overblot!” “Can you give us a demonstration?” one of the judges spoke up. He was a portly man, with spectacles perched upon a crooked nose. “I hoped you would ask that, Dr. Alcott,” Xavier answered with a Devil-May-Care wink, then looked to his robotic companion. “Abe? The book, please!” The robot nodded, and reached into the folds of his labcoat, before handing his creator a small book with a bright pink cover. On it was the title “Princess Pony and the Island of Fluffy Squirrels,” by Lorina Faustus. Xavier blushed bright red and swatted at Abe, who hurriedly put the book away while giggles and chuckles once again came from the audience. “I told you not to…! THE OTHER BOOK, ABE!” Abe quickly fished a second book out: this was a black leatherbound volume with the image of a galaxy festooning its front. Xavier took it and sighed, shaking his head before flipping to a bookmarked page. “Here,” he declared, pointing at the page in question and tapping it with a finger, “Is an excellent example. Keep in mind, gentlemen and ladies, I am but a first year here. The spell I’m about to perform is typically a fourth-year level spell, and I have taken no classes on the subject. Should you wish for confirmation of this later, simply consult the members of the staff on standby today.” Xavier thus cleared his throat, and lifted one hand, extending his thin fingers towards the ceiling before mumbling the incantation in the book. He closed his eyes, furrowing his brow and gritting his teeth, trying to concentrate...his fingers clawed as he flexed them, arm trembling as he forced all the power he could muster into his spellcasting… A dim, murky cloud of purple - shapeless and formless - hovered over the heads of the judges. Specks and blotches of many hues, like splatters of watercolor on a half-burned piece of parchment, appeared and disappeared...before, finally, Xavier gasped and relinquished the attempt, and the colors all faded, the cloud dissipating in an instant. “Haaaaah...a-as you can...ahem...as you can s-see,” Xavier gasped out, wiping some sweat from his brow. “That was hardly an easy task, gentleman...and hardly a good demonstration of that spell. Thankfully, my new invention can allow me to ‘upgrade’ my abilities, through use of my Unique Magic…” He lifted his left hand, the one that he had first used to try and enact the spell, and flexed his fingers as he recited his magic words. “...Paint & Thinner.” There was a flash of turquoise-toned light...and suddenly, Xavier’s left arm had undergone a startling and somewhat disquieting transformation. The fingers and thumb of his left hand had turned into a set of what looked like syringes, the needles resembling claws, his whole hand now seemingly mechanical and metallic. “My power,” Xavier smirked, flexing his taloned hand, “Allows me to extract emotion from a person. This is the ‘Thinner’ part of the equation. The emotional energy is converted to a liquid state. I can, of course, also return the emotions to their original owners, in a gaseous state: this is the ‘Paint’ aspect. Now, I know this is, uh...you know...a little freaky, but...I’m going to need a volunteer.” He handed the spellbook to Abe and added: “My assistant doesn’t exactly have veins to target.” Naturally, at first, nobody stepped forward. Xavier’s expression shifted, and he started to seem crestfallen, perhaps even a little scared… You sighed, shook your head, and stepped closer, raising one arm. “I volunteer,” you said. Xavier grinned, and nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Prefect,” he said, and addressed the audience as - with the clinical care of a master surgeon - he pulled you closer by one arm. “Everyone watch closely, please.” He then looked back at you; his voice was the professional, bland calm of a medical expert as he said the timeless refrain: “This won’t hurt a bit.” The syringes were inserted into your arm. You closed your eyes, trying to relax, remembering all the injections you had gotten. You did not feel the slightest prick as they did their work, and soon, bright green fluid - the color of some toxic acid - was drawn from your very body into the syringe fingers. “Sit down,” whispered Xavier, in the same clinical, almost cold tone, easing you into a nearby chair which Abe had prepared. His actions seemed more dismissive than in the vein of proper bedside manners. You sank into it gratefully. You felt...lightheaded. Cold. Almost ill. You didn’t know it at the time, but before the congregation of onlookers, your skin had suddenly turned very, very pale, and your hair and eyes had lost all color. Even your clothes seemed to have become more faded, causing you to look like a monochrome character from a black-and-white movie. You hoped the sickening, hollow sensation inside you wouldn’t last long as Xavier turned to the audience again. “Generally speaking, draining the emotion from the victim will leave them feeling weakened; enough power drawn can lead to them being rendered unconscious. My machine allows me to withdraw more than I would usually be able to manage in a single dose without even touching the subject, should I wish...but for safety purposes, I think we had better focus on the OUTPUT demonstration. Observe…” He closed his eyes...and suddenly, the syringes emptied, as if the power was being drawn through his arm and into his core...then, the same green fluid bubbled through the pipes, and a slosh came from the copper tanks as your emotions filled them with liquid energy. “Now,” said Xavier, and waved a hand for Abe to open the book and show him the page, as his syringe hand lifted to the ceiling. “Let’s see if the emotional energy I’ve drained from my volunteer can be converted to enough magical power, via the ERPC, for the spell I attempted earlier. Remember, everybody: first year here…” Once again, Xavier lifted his hand to the ceiling...and this time, as he spoke the incantation, the purple cloud became a beautiful circle of deep indigo, revealing the boundless reaches of outer space. Splashes of color became perfect images of planets and stars, so real in appearance one swore they could touch them. In fact, one student DID try to touch one...and yelped, as the sun actually burnt their finger slightly. “Careful,” chuckled Xavier, and then flexed his fingers...and the beautiful image disappeared. He then turned to the judges and, without a word, bowed. He had rested his case. The judges seemed most impressed. Dr. Alcott and the others applauded and smiled, looking quite pleased. However, they had other presentations to attend to, and after a few more perfunctory questions, they moved on. As the judges moved on, and the crowd went with them, Xavier looked two, kneeling down to look at your face. You felt dizzy and queasy, and the look on his face indicated he could tell. He extended his fingers. “Breathe normally,” he instructed, and a faint blue mist poured from the needle like fingers...and you sighed as you felt the ill feeling go away. Steadily, the color flooded back into your being at the same time. “Oh, dear Gods...wh-what was that?” “That was what it was like to be drained of emotional energy,” Xavier said, and gave an anxious sort of smile. “Pretty icky, huh?” “You said it,” you grumbled. “That was a bold decision, Prefect,” Cael observed, as Grim nodded in agreement. Both he and the imp looked rather concerned; they had lingered behind to check on you. Abe placed a mute hand upon your shoulder. You glanced up briefly at the featureless mechanical man, then smiled weakly back at your friends. “Well, he needed someone...who else would have done it?” you reasoned, then shuddered. “I really don’t like needles though…” “Not my fault it’s how my power works,” chuckled Xavier, but obligingly lifted his hand and spoke the counter-curse: “Thinner & Paint.” Another flash of blue-green light, and his hand returned to normal. He gave it a shake, then extended it to you. “Thank you for the help,” he said, sincerely. “Gotta admit, I didn’t expect anybody to put their best foot forward for me like that…” “I’m glad I could start a new custom,” you said, and shook his hand before shakily standing up. “I still don’t feel quite ready for work though…” “Give it a couple short minutes, and it’ll wear off on its own,” Xavier said sweetly. Just then, more applause came...louder than before. The four of you looked; Xavier frowned and the rest of you perked up as you realized who the next contender was… “The Shrouds!” exclaimed Grim. “Let’s see what they are up to,” suggested Cael. “Right,” you nodded, then smiled at Xavier. “Really cool invention. I hope you win!” Xavier’s eyes widened as he looked back at you, seemingly taken aback by the compliment and well-wishes...then smiled awkwardly. “Heh...uh...th-thanks, um...enjoy the rest of the expo. I mean, no one else is gonna be as awesome, but...you know…” You just laughed, and joined your friends, giving Xavier a wave as you strolled towards the Shrouds’ panel. You never noticed how Xavier’s smile faded into a cold, almost lifeless expression behind you while your back turned away. “No one else is gonna be as awesome,” he whispered to himself, forebodingly. Unaware of the ominous moment that had passed, your gaggle descended with the rest of the onlookers to see what the Head of Ignihyde and his “Baby Brother” had in store. Said “Baby Brother” was brushing humming in a vocoded-sounding way (he WAS an android, after all) as he brushed down a machine on the table. The device was not hidden by anything, the way Xavier’s power pack had been, which meant you and all and sundry could take a peek at it. It was...difficult to describe. The shape of the thing vaguely resembled a small ice maker, colored black and gray, but with three glass tubes on the top, each filled with strange fluids in primary colors: red, yellow, and blue. While Ortho dusted it off, Idia, was standing off to one side; his knees were almost knocking together, and his fingers fiddled endlessly with the dangling pullstrings of his hoodie as he stared at the judges, brow bathed in cold sweat. “Okay, Brother-o’-mine!” cheered Ortho, and looked to Idia happily. “It’s all set.” Idia said nothing. He didn’t move. He stared straight ahead, like a statue, still focused unblinkingly on the judges. “Uh...brother?” Idia whimpered, still frozen and shaking. “BROTHER!” shouted Ortho, fire-hair flaring up and turning orange for a second as he stomped his foot in frustration. Idia yelped and jumped about a foot in the air. “IWASN’TTHINKINGABOUTHIDING!” he exclaimed in a jabbering sort of way...then blinked when he saw Ortho’s pouty expression. (How the android could pout with no visible lips was anyone’s guess.) He flushed; Idia never blushed red or pink, but his cheeks turned a sort of bluish-purple color. “C’mon!” Ortho urged, and gestured towards the group. “They’re waiting.” This did not seem to encourage Idia, who flinched and looked nervously at the impatient judges. “I...um...uh...w-well, uh...aha...er…” You frowned, glancing with concern at Grim and Caelyum; the former matched your expression, while the other mostly looked bored. This was not going well. A thought came to you, and you stepped forward slightly. Idia must have heard your approach, because his eyes quickly darted to see you, and the encouraging smile you gave. Suddenly, he seemed to relax...but only VERY slightly. Idia was the sort to fear he was BREATHING too loudly and that would get on people’s nerves, he could only be so calm. Still, it helped enough for him to clear his throat and begin talking. “Ahem...s-sorry, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, with a nervous smile, tapping his fingers together childishly. “I’m, ah...not used to this sort of...front and center kinda thing, heh...honestly, I wish I were hiding under my blankets right now...BUT! But, ah...I think the device I’ve made will at least be of interest…” So saying, Idia seemed to pluck up some courage. Your own smile widened as he placed a hand on the machine, and his stance straightened. If there was one thing that Shroud could talk about with SOME pride, it was his work. “I don’t need to tell all you that, uh...th-that the source of magic for m-many wizards and witches is their magic crystals, right? Right. So, ah...I, well...I got to thinking: the problem with the crystals is they can...well...run out. We have to mine for them, we have to dig for them, and there’s always a chance that someday...y’know...th-there might not be any left. Which would...kinda suck, ha. SO! I decided to try and create SYNTHETIC crystals…” He tapped the tubes on the top of the machine. “With these three simple potion compounds, mixed together in the right order, I can...well...do that. Using this machine.” “Would you say there are other advantages to this idea?” Dr. Alcott spoke up. “Oh, y-yes!” Idia said, starting to smile as he realized he had someone’s interest, though he seemed a bit nervous when he noticed the way the other judges scribbled some quick notes down. “Ahem...yes, sir. See, with synthetic crystals, not only do you not need to dig them up, but...well...if you have these compounds, and this machine, you can make as many as you like.” “Well, yes,” Dr. Alcott nodded, “But are they any more advantageous than natural crystals?” Idia paused, as if to think on his answer, then nodded slowly. “There is one other thing,” he said, almost shyly. (Well...there was no “almost” about it, this was Idia Shroud, but you gave him the benefit of the wiggle room anyway.) He paused before steadily elaborating: “Synthetic crystals do have a couple of weaknesses. They are not as physically strong as natural ones, for a start, the same way synthetic gems are not as strong as real jewels. You also can’t make them as large as natural crystals, because with the compounds being used, they can become unstable. But, at the average size of the average magic crystal…” He pointed to the one he wore himself, on his arm, before continuing. “...It can actually last longer than a natural crystal. It...well...um...I don’t know how to explain it, actually, but my experiments have shown that...well...you can use them for a longer period of time before worrying about Overblotting.” “Well, that’s definitely an advantage,” smiled Dr. Alcott, seemingly impressed, then turned serious as he scratched a few notes down before speaking again: “Can we see how this machine works?” “Y-Yes! Yes, of course!” nodded Idia...then tapped Ortho on the shoulder. “Little brother? Um...w-would you do the honors?” He then added in a whisper, “I’ll probably mess up…” Your smile became slightly less proud: Idia was still Idia. Ortho just giggled. “You can’t mess up turning the machine on, Big Brother!” he teased quietly, but still obeyed, pressing a button on the contraption. A loud whirring sound was heard, and the potions in the tubes bubbled and then began to lessen in volume; you could hear the sound of fluid being stirred and mixed, followed by the low humming buzz of another item either cooling or heating the stuff inside the machine… ...It only took about two minutes - during which the judges’ attention was raptly focused on the device, and several in the crowd mumbled to one another with interest - and then, with a rattle and a clatter, a teardrop-shaped, transparent, pale blue crystal dropped into a tray inside the machine. Idia opened the lid and pulled the crystal out of the tray, holding it up for everyone to see, then offered it to the judges, who inspected it closely. Finally, Dr. Alcott handed the artificial crystal back to Idia with a smile. “Fine work, young Master Shroud,” he nodded in approval. “Fine work indeed.” The other judges and the audience applauded. Idia smiled bashfully, tucking his head down and mouthing a quiet word of thanks as he hugged the crystal to his chest. Ortho, noticing the way his brother was shaking, gave him an encouraging hug as the mob and the judges - still chatting betwixt themselves - moved away. Once again, yourself and your friends stepped forward, all of you wearing matching grins. “I’m so proud of you!” you cheered, and gave Idia a hug. You felt the eldest Shroud freeze up in your embrace, and couldn’t help but smile still wider; Idia, bless his heart, still wasn’t used to much physical interaction, and you could feel him starting to twitch. You gave him a very gentle, comforting squeeze, and rubbed his back reassuringly. Only then did his arms steadily move upwards to gingerly return the hug. “Nya!” Grim called out happily, trotting over with a wide grin, purring up at the fire-haired Ignihyde head. “You did a lot better than I expected!” “An interesting invention, too,” Cael complimented. “I’m sure you’ll end up with first place!” “Oh, I-I dunno,” mumbled Idia, rubbing one arm and squirming slightly with embarrassment. “I thought Madoc had a pretty cool creation, too…” “His was neat,” nodded Grim, “But I think yours is better.” “His energy converter DID have one noticeable issue,” Cael thought to add, glancing back towards Xavier’s panel - by now, the odd scientist and his assistant had turned their attention away, and were seemingly polishing the power pack. “It depends on HIM in order to work. No one else would be able to use it: it’s not something you can mass produce, because no one else has his Unique Magic.” “That’s true,” Ortho spoke up. “But hey! The basic idea isn’t bad; with a little adjusting, he could make it something really special for everyone to use!” “If he cares enough to try,” mumbled Grim; he subsided at the look you gave him. “It’s up to the judges, and the contest has just started,” you said, crisply, then smiled at Idia once more. “Whatever happens, you did good. Don’t doubt that.” Idia smiled sweetly. “Th-thank you,” he whispered, then glanced at the crystal in his hand and back up at you...before offering it cautiously. “Would you...like a souvenir? Heh…” You chuckled, and took the crystal, placing it in your pocket. “Sure,” you said. “Thanks, Idia.” “Y-You’re w-w-welcome,” stuttered Idia, looking like he was scared of feeling too happy. He paused and cleared his throat with a cough before reaching into his hoodie’s pocket, pulling out his cell phone. “Well, um...I wanna catch up with a new show I’m watching, so...I’m, uh...y’know...gonna go find a nice, safe corner till the judgment call comes, and...well…ju st, uh...exist, heh…” “Can I watch with you, Big Brother?” Ortho peeped hopefully. “Sure,” Idia said with a smile and a nod, then gave you the same gestures before scurrying away, looking like he couldn’t wait to get away from everything that had the power to breathe. Yourself and your two companions chuckled and gave a collective mock salute to the Shroud brothers, as Ortho followed Idia quickly. Then, still chattering amongst yourselves, you hurried to rejoin the group and see what else was at the exposition… None of you were aware of Xavier Madoc’s eyes following the mob’s movements, before glancing back at Idia’s device. One could have sworn his one green eye flashed.
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The exposition had come to an end, and after two hours of deliberation, the judges were ready to deliver their verdict. The contestants had lined up on either side of the room, while the audience sat in chairs before a podium. Yourself, Caelyum, and Grim all took seats in the second row (the front row had filled up too quickly) and watched as Dr. Alcott approached the podium, adjusting his spectacles and shuffling some papers in his hands. You glanced to the right. Along with the other contenders at the expo, Idia and Xavier were naturally lined up, both on the same side of the hall. Xavier stood with a cocksure smile, arms crossed, while Idia was nervously twiddling his fingers, biting his lip with his dagger-like teeth. He looked towards Xavier and smiled nervously. “S-So, uh...may the best man win, huh?” he said, awkwardly. Xavier didn’t even look at the dorm head as he narrowed his eyes and simply said, “Don’t worry. I will.” Idia looked a bit befuddled. Abe and Ortho - who stood beside their corresponding creators - looked at each other and shrugged. The sound of Dr. Alcott brought your attention back to the podium. “It’s time,” Cael and Grim murmured at the same time, as the lead judge addressed the audience, crooked nose pointed high. “Friends of science,” the doctor began, “I am not one for grand speeches or over-sentimentalizing the talents we’ve seen on display here today. Virtually every experiment we viewed today, every invention created or formula concocted, was of interest.As far as those doing this for an assignment go, my supposition is you will all pass with flying colors. However, there can only be one winner: one person to leave this exposition a proper champion.” He snapped his fingers and one of the other judges stepped up beside him, and handed him a trophy, with a golden ornament resembling a ringed planet. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Dr. Alcott intoned, “The winner of the Annual Science Expo is…” Xavier smirked, and straightened up his labcoat, taking a deep breath, as if ready to thank everyone… “...Mr. Idia Shroud!” Xavier froze, the smile seemingly slapped from his face as his eyes widened. Idia’s eyes widened too, and he gasped in surprise as the crowd applauded. One could almost see tears in his eyes as he realized what had happened. Yourself and your party cheered as Ortho nudged Idia up to the podium to accept his trophy, which he did with trembling fingers. You were grinning from ear to ear, and so was Idia; his shark-toothed smile had never been wider, you felt, nor more genuine in nature. His amber eyes sparkled like a pair of glittering gold coins. As Dr. Alcott began to congratulate Shroud - who was hugging the trophy to his chest almost like a teddy bear - you turned to see the other contenders. Most of them - including Abe - were clapping politely. The only exceptions were Ortho, who was literally dancing with joy… ...And Xavier Madoc. He looked absolutely livid. His face was almost as red as Riddle Rosehearts’ could get, his fists clenched, one eye twitching as he gritted his teeth angrily. His mismatched eyes were burning… You felt your blood run cold as the blue eye was surrounded by a matching aura. “Grim!” you hissed, tapping the feline-like creature on the side. Grim turned fast...and his ears flattened back and he mewed as he saw droplets of ink dripping from the magic crystal Xavier wore… “Oh, no,” he gulped nervously. “What’s wrong?” Caelyum whispered...then frozen when he saw the same. “Oh, barnacles...is that…?” “Overblot,” you replied, gravely. “Here we go again…” Just as Dr. Alcott shook Idia’s hand, and was about to dismiss him, Xavier suddenly let out a screeching cry of apoplectic rage, which startled everyone present. All eyes watched as the white labcoat of the first-year science master flapped behind him like the wings of a huge war bird, as he flew back towards his panel, and hurriedly strapped the ERPC to his back. “Unacceptable!” he shouted. “I will not allow it! I WILL NOT ALLOW IT! No one outsmarts me! NOBODY! My machines are perfect! My work is superior in every way! And if you doubt that - if ANYONE STILL doubts that…!” A feral grin came to his face as he extended one arm. “...Then I’ll just have to prove otherwise, won’t I? Paint & Thinner.” A flash of turquoise light was immediately followed by an explosive sound. KA-ZAM! A gale wind ripped through the hall, as a swirl of black mist surrounded Xavier Madoc; you cursed violently under your breath as blue and green light burst through pockets in the spiraling cloud of inky darkness. No doubt Xavier’s strong emotions and the level of magic he had put out earlier had blended together, and with the power pack on, he could burn through magic and cause damage with greater force and strength than you could guess. “Brace yourselves!” you called to Caelyum and Grim, as everyone else in the hall dove or ducked for cover. “This isn’t gonna be easy!” “Is it ever?!” Grim yowled, while Cael simply squinted, watching with you as the mist began to clear… ...And soon, you could see the change that had come over Xavier Madoc. The right side of his body had seemingly not changed at all...but the left was another story. Not only was there now a blue aura surrounding his left eye, not to mention the metallic, syringe-tipped left hand...but his whole left side seemed to have become a cyborganic nightmare. The left side of his face was covered in metal plates, and his entire left arm and leg had become robotic in nature; the clothes on the left side of his body were seemingly frayed and shredded, exposing portions of a metal chest and clockwork-esque innards. In-between the joints of his limbs and face, black ink oozed like oil. Xavier’s one green eye was feral looking; bloodshot with a pinprick pupil. He grinned in a manic way, and let out a cackling laugh that rebounded off the hall walls. “HA HA HA HA HA! You dared to overlook my creations?! You spurned my talents, eh?! Then let me show just how powerful I can REALLY become!” he roared, and the ERPC roared to life as he thrust out his syringe hand. “I told you, I can extend my unique abilities without proximity! So now...NOW, ALL OF YOU, GIVE ME YOUR POWER!” In horrific fashion, the needles extended...and five members in the crowd collapsed as they were pricked, turning gray and pallid. Their entire being became monochrome as, in a split second, all emotion was drained from them and into Xavier’s being. Xavier shot out his claws again, the protracting talons jabbing into another five people and rendering them the same. Now, panic set in, and people screamed as they raced for the door. “Don’t leave in such a rush!” laughed Madoc, and snapped the fingers of his one human hand. The doors suddenly shifted, becoming solid walls, and all the windows clicked as they were locked into place. “The party’s just beginning!” Xavier’s claws lunged at you now, but yourself, Grim, and Cael all quickly dropped, ducking the attack. Three other people who had been standing behind you, along with two more, were drained in your stead. Xavier shuddered, a toxic aura surrounding him as the tanks were filled with more and more emotional energy. “More...MORE!” he bellowed. “If I can’t have your respect, I will have your rage...your despair...your panice...fuel me! FUEL ME!” Idia and Dr. Alcott ducked behind the podium with twin yelps. Ortho hurried to check on his brother, and barely avoided the needles as they shot out. The other judges weren’t so lucky, and crumpled in an unconscious, grayscale-colored heap as their emotions were drained. Abe rushed forward to try and stop his creator, desperately grabbing hold of Xavier’s one human arm. Xavier snarled, gnashing his teeth. “Imbecile and traitor!” he roared into the droid’s pleading face. “I have no further use for YOU!” Xavier jerked away his human hand, then, with a sneer, thrust it out again...and - THOOM! - a magical shockwave slammed into Abe’s chest, sending the robot flying. He crashed down beside your trio, the three of you still lying on the ground as Xavier continued to stick his needles into everyone who moved. The room was in a panic, the other contestants’ creations smashing on the floor as people dove for cover. Slowly, Xavier began to make his way through the hall, laughing dementedly. “All this over a freaking trophy?!” hissed Grim. “I think there’s got to be more to it,” mumbled Caelyum. Abe nodded, as if to confirm this, and then gave you a look as if to ask, Now what? This was the burning question; you had to figure out a way to keep Xavier from hurting more people, as well as remove the power pack. As long as he still had the converter on, his power wouldn’t drop. He could potentially stay in Overblot for a much longer period of time, burning the power almost as quickly as he got it...growing just strong enough to overwhelm… “Okay, I’ve got a plan,” you said at last, and whispered to your compatriots. “Listen closely…” Xavier, meanwhile, grinned as he approached a group of people, huddled together. “Let’s try an experiment,” he hissed, a mad grin on the young doctor’s face as he lifted his syringe hand. “I now know how swiftly I can drain an organism...now, can I make it more slow and painful?” He cackled, his victims babbling pleas for him to stop as he lifted his hand, preparing to shoot out the razor-sharp needles and drain them dry. “Every emotion in your body...slowly siphoning into mine...let’s see how long it can really-” FWOOSH! “Nya! Back off, crazy-coat!” Xavier jumped back with an almost animalistic sneer, and swirled his ragged cape around as he looked towards the source of the fire that had distracted him. Grim was standing in a ready pose, balls of blue flame held in each forepaw as he smirked challengingly. “Insufferable hairball!” shouted Xavier. “I WILL NOT BE DENIED! I WILL HAVE MORE POWER!” He lunged at Grim, swiping with his robotic talons, but Grim moved aside quickly. As Xavier plunged towards him, a loud smashing sound was heard from behind. The mad doctor turned quickly, and his one good eye widened in surprise as he saw that Abe had kicked a hole clear through the wall, and was ushering people through the hole and out of the area, Idia and Dr. Alcott leading those still conscious to safety. “NO!” shouted Xavier, and shot out his needles...but he was just too late as Abe blocked him, giving him a determined glare as they scratched helplessly against his armored plating. Then, giving Xavier an almost pitying expression, the robot leapt through the hole himself. Xavier moved to try and give pursuit, but Grim thrust out his arms, and formed a wide ring of fire that blocked the scientist’s path. “You think this will stop me?!” Xavier bellowed. “You can’t defeat me! My invention gives me power beyond yours!” “Good to know. I’d hate to have to refund anything.” Xavier stopped short and glanced about, trying to find the source of Caelyum’s voice...before, suddenly, he felt a strange sensation brushing up against his legs. He looked down...and screamed in a mixture of panic and rage as a horde of marble white Locker Crabs began to swarm over him, their pincers latching onto parts of his clothing and the edges of his inkstained metal carapace, trying to drag him to the floor. “GET OFF ME, YOU CRETINOUS CRUSTACEANS!” yelled Xavier, trying to kick and swat away the crabs, unaware of the shadow that stepped through a gap that formed in the flames, and approached from behind. The crabs snipped their claws at the leather straps holding the ERPC in place. Xavier slapped them away...then jerked as, suddenly, the weight of his invention was pulled away. “WHAT?!” he spat, and turned around fast, pupils pinpricks as he saw you jump backwards, holding the device in your hands. “NO! NO, YOU-GACK!” He hit the floors as the crabs tripped him up. You scampered back through the gap in the flames, which Grim soon closed up. The little monster was jumping up and down, pumping his forepaws/fists and cheering. “NYA! Get ‘im, Cael! Pin ‘im down!” the cat called. “We’ve won now!” A low laugh from under the swarm of Locker Crabs knocked the smile from Grim’s face. “Won? Hardly. I’m still getting warmed up!” ZAM! Xavier sent out another shockwave with a loud shout. You toppled onto your back, the ERPC falling from your hands and thunking onto the floor. The crabs scattered, and the flames were extinguished as Grim was sent rolling across the hall. You quickly sat back up...and shuddered. Xavier loomed over you, the acid-colored aura around him showing his fury as trails of spilling ink traced his steps. You snatched up the ERPC and scrambled to your feet, making a dash for the whole in the wall. “NOT SO FAST!” roared Madoc, and lifted his human hand. He screamed some foreign incantation, and the shattered section was suddenly patched up, the debris flying back into place, stitching together like a jigsaw puzzle’s corners. You swerved and made a dash for a window; you could break it, after all, even if it was locked. Xavier snarled out another incantation, however...and teleported directly in front of you. You skidded to a halt, but not fast enough as he grabbed hold of your arm with one hand, and lifted his syringe claws, a wild grin on his cyborganic face. “HA HA HA!” he cackled. “What a foolish attempt that was! You truly thought you could defeat me?! I will drain you till your very soul is rendered inert! Nothing can resist my power! With the ERPC, I can remain like this for eternity! And when the world grovels at my feet, I will build more machines! BRILLIANT machines! My mechanical creations will-!” FWOOMPH! A burst of flame slammed into Xavier, bowling him over and singing his labcoat. You fell back down and scrambled away as you held tightly to the power pack. Xavier snarled as he stood back up, his mechanical pieces clicking and sparking...as the two of you saw who had re-entered the room. It was Idia Shroud; Ortho had evidently picked the lock on one of the windows, and the pair had climbed through. Idia was visibly trembling, but tried his hardest to look brave, twists of orange curling through his ethereal blue hairdo. “Leave. Them. Alone,” Idia intoned. Madoc sneered. “First you steal my prize, now you RUIN MY MONOLOGUE?!” he yelled. “Alright! Just for that, I WILL OBLITERATE YOU!” Xavier charged at Idia, but the head of Ignihyde narrowed his eyes, gritting his sharp, jagged teeth. His hand shook as he held it, as if showing doubt… ...Then, his stance and expression hardened, and the shaking stopped. Just as Xavier Madoc leapt through the air, swiping his syringe claws through the air...he snapped his fingers. KRAK-KOOM! An explosive blast of fire and noise, like a grenade had gone off, erupted directly before Madoc. The explosion sent the mad scientist flying backwards, his labcoat tattered and scorched, black marks on his skull plates. Xavier cried out as he slammed headfirst into a wall...then crumpled to the floor, and fell still. He was out like a light. The mad doctor was done. You sighed with relief and stood up as Ortho cheered. “WOO-HOO! Way to go, Big Brother!” he exclaimed, and gave Idia a smack on the back. The hunched head of Ignihyde flinched and smiled shyly at his artificial sibling. “It was nothing,” he whispered faintly, visibly blushing. “Are you okay, Prefect?” Ortho asked. “I’m fine,” you nodded as you approached them, and glanced around. “Where are the others?” Right on cue, a low growl was heard. The three of you looked to see Grim was just sitting up, massaging his skull after evidently banging his head during his tumble. “Me-owwwww…! That creep hits way too hard!” he moaned out. “Did anybody get the number on that-MREOWR?!” He was cut off as Idia scooped the imp up and began to snuggle him, crooning and planting chaste, loving kisses on his head. “Awwww, the poor wittle kitty!” he cooed sympathetically. “Did you get an ouchie? Did the mean cyborg hurt you, huh?” “HISSSSS! I’M FINE!” Grim spat, kicking and squirming. “L-Lemme go! For the last time, I DON’T LIKE SNUGGLES, STOP!” Idia just let out a happy hum, squeezing Grim, repeatedly crooning, “Awww, poor thing, you poor little dear…!” over and over again. Ortho giggled sweetly, while you just rolled your eyes and smiled. A skittering sound heralded the reappearance of Caelyum, who reformed out of a pillar of white sand crabs. He stumbled on his feet as he returned to his normal state, and you placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “You okay?” you whispered. “No,” mumbled Cael, and smiled wearily. “When I use the power that way, a fraction of my will - my mind - is in every single crab. I feel like I just got thrown through the loop-the-loop of a roller coaster seventeen times.” You gently patted his shoulder and smiled back, gratefully. “Walk it off, matey,” you said softly with a wink. Cael chuckled. “Aye,” he nodded, as your group moved to look down at the defeated Xavier Madoc. “I will.” For several seconds, the ink-leaking cyborg lay on the ground, unmoving. But that was alright: none of you were expecting him to move. By now, you knew the drill of how things worked after Overblot...and sure enough, after a few seconds, wisps of silvery-white mist began to drift up from the defeated scientist, as his whole body began to glow a blinding white. All of you shielded your eyes from the light, watching as the mist began to spiral, and soon enough, images formed in the center of the floating cloud. Pictures from the past… “Dad! Dad, look at this!” A tall, thin man in white, with a pointed goatee, looked down from the workbench he was stationed at. He smiled as a small boy - with mismatched eyes of blue and green - came waddling into the room, holding a piece of paper. “What is it, Xavier?” “I made a blueprint, dad! I wanna make a robot! Like one of yours!” squeaked the young Xavier, and held out the paper to his father. “Do you think it’s any good, Dad? Do ya? Huh?” The older man lifted the paper and looked; he chuckled at the untidy crayon scrawl drawn on the page, the acronym “A.B.E.” accompanying a childish drawing of a metal man in a porter’s outfit. “Not a bad idea, Xavier,” he complimented his son, and handed the “blueprint” back to its creator before ruffling his son’s hair. “You’ll make a fine inventor, at this rate.” Xavier giggled, playfully swatting at his father’s hand, then gave him a wide but shy smile. “You promise?” he peeped. “Could I...could I be as good as you, Dad?” “No,” the man answered, and leaned down, kissing his son’s forehead. “You’ll be even better.” The child’s happy hum was interrupted by the shifting of time, as a new image spun into view: Xavier was a little older now, and working in a laboratory. He whistled as he fitted a screw into place on a device he was building...only to freeze as he heard voices coming from outside the shop. Curious, he trotted over to the door, and peeked outside. He could see the shadows of two men, arguing not so far away, and heard what they were saying. One of them he recognized as his father’s voice… “Oscar, you can’t be serious!” “I’m sorry, Xander,” the other voice said. “All I know is that Charles got to me first. What would that tell you?” “That Charles is a faster runner,” droned Xander. Xavier giggled softly, but clapped a hand over his mouth to avoid being heard. “Very funny,” Oscar’s voice drawled. “I’m serious, Oscar. You KNOW me, we’ve worked together for years! Are you going to take his word over mine?” “Right now, I haven’t got a choice. His patent has been in development at my company for a while; all that’s left are i’s to dot and t’s to cross. Even if what you say is true, Xander, he finished his work more quickly; I’m not seeing a lot of incentive here.” A pause. “...So that’s it then?” came the terse voice of Xavier’s father. “What about my family, Oscar? What about my son?” “Relax, Xander. You’ll come up with more inventions, you always do, and I’ll be just as willing to buy!” “Forget it. I’ll find another person to sell to.” Another pause. “...Okay. Okay. If that’s how you feel about it,” came Oscar’s weak reply. “Goodbye, Xander.” “Goodbye, Oscar. Tell Charlie he knows where to stuff it.” Oscar’s shadow disappeared, and a few moments later, the sound of a door was heard opening and closing. Xander was heard sighing, and Xavier saw his father’s silhouette slump into a nearby chair. Curious, the boy trundled out of the room to his father’s side; the older inventor was sitting with his head in his hands, massaging his brow. “Dad?” peeped Xavier. “What was all that?” Xander blinked at his son. “Oh. You...heard that, huh?” Xavier nodded slowly. Xander blinked...then sighed and picked his child up, placing him in his lap. “Listen to this, Xavier, because it’s very important,” said the doctor to his son. “Not all inventors are good. You must guard your inventions well, and you must always do your best to make sure no one can top you. People will try to steal what you make, people will look for weaknesses in it. Never let them find any way to stop you.” He placed a hand under his son’s chin and gave a sad smile. “You’ll be brilliant someday...but with brilliance comes danger. You can’t trust anyone, understand?” “I can trust you.” “Of course,” chuckled Xander. “And I can trust my machines,” added Xavier. “Well, yes, but a machine isn’t a person,” Xander said. “Machines only exist to follow their programming. Machines will always do what they’re supposed to. Machines will only let you down if people making them make mistakes. People aren’t like that: people are flawed, and people are foolish. They will pass you over and cheat you if they find a way or reason. Never let that happen. Okay?” “Okay, Dad. I’ll do my best.” The scene shifted again. Xavier was now much older, nearly the same age as he was now. Abe now stood at his side as he worked on a project in his laboratory, building a new machine. “This is going to be the greatest thing ever!” he cheered, grinning to his mechanical companion, who nodded in happy agreement. “Just think of how much fun the science fair will be with this completed! Ha Ha! Man, Abe, we have this in the bag!” “Hi, Xavier!” The pair looked towards a new face that had entered the lab: a fellow youngster in red. “Oh, hey, Gus! What’s up? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the science fair?” “I haven’t figured out what to do yet,” sighed the boy sadly, then smiled weakly. “So, uh...I thought, well...maybe you could help me come up with an idea. I mean...you’re like a billion times better at this stuff, heh…” “Sure, I can help!” smiled Xavier, helpfully, and clapped his hands together, dusting them off, waving for Abe to go fetch a few books. As the robot marched off, the teen in red noticed the item on the workbench. “Hey, what’s that?” “Huh? Oh! It’s my project for the science fair. Looks pretty cool, right?” “Yeah! What’s it do?” Xavier explained quickly. The lad looked envious of his science-savvy friend. “Wow...I’ll never figure out how you can do all that stuff...you’ve gotta be the best inventor ever!” “Awww,” blushed Xavier. “It’s just a knack.” “Can you show me how you make it?” the teen asked, hesitantly. “Sure, if you want,” Xavier said, blithely shrugging and smiling. “Then I’ll help you figure out what you’ll do yourself. Sound fair?” The boy smirked; Xavier didn’t notice the cunning in his eyes. “Yeah. That sounds fair,” the classmate answered. The scenario changed once more. Xavier now glared with absolute hatred at the boy in red...who was smiling, chest puffed out with pride, as he showed off his machine to the judges, who cheered and applauded. It was a machine identical to the one Xavier had made...and the boy had made it first. Xavier had been forced to change his plans, and the experiment he’d come up with at the last minute had been sub-par. The cheat got first place. Xavier got nothing. Xavier snarled, fists clenching as the boy in red smirked in a sidelong way at him, and mouthed the word, “Sucker,” before continuing to bask in adulation. Xavier Madoc scowled as he packed up his items. He was shaking a little. “You can’t trust anyone,” he whispered to himself. “Well, you’ll see...you’ll ALL see...I’ll come up with something no one else can top. I will PROVE to you how good my science is. Just wait and see…” His mismatched eyes burned as he turned his back on the laughing classmates and applauding teachers...and stalked back to his lab. Alone. With his machines. “...I don’t need anybody. Just my machines.”
The mist cleared and evaporated, and the white light faded...revealing Xavier Madoc had changed back to normal on the floor. He was still unconscious, but the glow was gone from his blue eye, and the machinery parts had vanished. Silence reigned for a few seconds. This was not unheard of. By now, you had accepted there was always a “digestion period” where everyone was taking in what they’d just learned. This time, however...the silence stayed unbroken. No one spoke a word, looking like they were trying to properly form thoughts, even as Xavier began to stir again. As he did, he reached out with a hand, fumblingly, mumbling incoherently… ...And froze as someone knelt down and took that hand. Xavier looked up...and seemed stunned when he stared into the wide yellow eyes of Idia Shroud. For a moment, the two looked at each other...then Xavier pulled away with a sneer. “Cheat,” he hissed. “I never cheated,” whispered Idia, sounding surprisingly confident for once...confident, but careful. “It’s not that no one recognized you, Xavier; no one was trying to neglect you. It’s just...there could only be one winner. And I happened to be it.” “It wasn’t an easy decision, either,” added Ortho. “Oh, no?” Xavier grimaced, looking skeptical. “No,” Idia answered. “Dr. Alcott spoke to me before I returned: you would have been second place. Your invention really impressed him and the other judges, they just...felt mine was more easy to use widespread. Yours needed a few tweaks for them to give it the topmost prize.” “They said they couldn’t have asked for a better start to the expo than you,” added Ortho, in a quiet, helpful voice. The bitterness in Xavier’s face had faded slightly, leaving his expression blank and cold. He turned away quietly, and hugged himself, curling up against the wall. “You can’t shut yourself out because of one bad incident,” whispered Caelyum. “Trust me: I know what it’s like when you seal off your heart. It doesn’t get pretty.” “No one is invincible,” added Grim. “Well...except for me, but...that’s because I’m awesome.” You rolled your eyes at the hubris of “The Great Grim,” and knelt down beside Idia, looking into the heterochromatic eyes of the mad scientist. “Just because you’re brilliant doesn’t mean everything is going to be perfect. Similarly,” you said, “Just because one person did something terrible, it doesn’t mean you can shun all people. Everyone and everything has flaws. The important thing is to learn from them.” Xavier furrowed his brow and looked down at the floor for several seconds...then looked back up at both of you. “...I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I...I shouldn’t have lost control. That was...that was childish of me. And...I’m sorry for what I did.” He looked to Idia and smiled shyly. “Your invention was...not too bad.” “Thank you,” Idia said, with a slight blush, and helped the scientist to his feet. Just then, the sound of metallic footsteps echoed out. The group of you turned...and Xavier’s heart seemed to sink as he saw Abe re-enter the hall, yellow eyes fixed on his creator. “Abe, I’m so, SO sorry,” Xavier said, seriously. “I shouldn’t have-EEP!” He was cut off as the metal man crushed him in a solid bear hug, nuzzling his steel cheek against his creator’s hair. Ortho and Grim both giggled, while yourself and Caelyum smirked. Idia, for his part, didn’t seem to know what to make of the scene. “I think he already forgives you,” you said teasingly. Abe nodded to show this was the case. It was obvious he was just happy his maker was back to normal. Xavier smiled bashfully and gestured for the metal man to put him down, then looked to Idia. “So, uh...y-you’re the head of the dorm,” he said, and rubbed his arm. “Do you, uh...like...have any ideas on how to make the ERPC better? More...accessible?” “I can think of something. You know...maybe,” Idia said with a timid smile. “I mean...I’m r-really not the best choice, I...I got the whole idea for MY thing from an anime-” “Anime?” Xavier asked, and perked up visibly. “What anime?” “Oh! Uh...Magica Marocca. It’s...um...a Magic Girl series? You, ah, probably don’t know what that is-” “YOU WATCH MAGICA MAROCCA?!” Idia blinked, stunned, at the sudden look of exuberant excitement on Xavier’s face. “You...you’ve seen it?” the otaku nearly squeaked out. “I love that series!” exclaimed Xavier. “I mean...okay, it’s not, like, the GREATEST thing, in terms of story? Kinda rushed...but I really love the art style, a-and the way it plays with the themes and ideas of a typical Magic Girl series! It’s like Watchmen, but for...that!” Idia looked like he’d just found his soulmate. “I feel the same way! A-And have you seen Glitter Cure?” “Rascal is one of THE best villains ever.” “I AGREE!” squealed Idia, clapping giddily, that wide, almost manic smile you saw so rarely stretching across his face, matching Xavier’s instantly. “Oh, my gosh, no one EVER knows about that one! This is great!” “It is!” nodded Xavier eagerly...then took his turn to blush. “Um...d’ya think we can...oh...I-I dunno...maybe watch some together?” “I mean...only if you want to,” peeped Idia, ducking his head anxiously. “I’m...n-not used to people who...WANT to watch it with me, heh...normally I-I can only talk about it online…” “I’d like to watch it with you,” Xavier promised. “And...and we can talk about our inventions in the meantime. Does...does that sound fair?” Idia nodded slowly, and began to smile wider once more. “Yeah...yeah, it sounds like a plan,” he said, then looked to Ortho. “Is...is it okay with you, Little Brother?” Ortho gaped. “...You’re asking me if YOU can have a VISITOR in the apartment?” “Yes.” “Like...you WANT to HANG OUT WITH SOMEONE?” “Yuh-huh.” “...Okay, who are you, and what have you done with my Big Brother?” You snickered. So did Xavier, as Idia smiled awkwardly. “You wanna come with, Abe?” the mad scientist asked his robotic companion, who saluted in response. “Great!” Idia laughed. “Let’s go then!” And with unusual, uncharacteristic joy, the otaku and the eccentric sauntered off together, their androids following them as the exit door reformed and they left the convention hall. You smiled. “Well,” you sighed happily. “All’s well that end’s well. Looks like Idia’s found a new friend at last.” “I’m happy for them,” smiled Caelyum. “Finding a person who you can connect with is important.” “Uh-huh,” nodded Grim. “Now, there’s just one problem.” “What’s that?” both you and Cael asked. Grim wordlessly pointed to the mess of chairs, scorch marks, busted machines, and dented walls that the hall had become. You went pale. “...Ohhhhh...right...I forgot...we’re the janitors.” “Uh-huh,” Grim said again, drably. “Well, good luck with that!” Caelyum chirped, and began to saunter off towards the door. “Hey! HEY! Where are you going?!” snapped Grim. “Back to the Mystery Shop,” Cael called over his shoulders. “I have a job of my own to do, me hearties! Take care!” “But-!” Your call was unanswered. Cael disappeared, leaving you and Grim standing alone in the mess. You both looked around, then at each other. “...Grim?” “Yeah, Minion?” “It’s moments like these where I wonder if helping people is worth it.” “I never wonder, Minion,” sighed Grim. “Moments like these, I know it isn’t.”
Your feet shuffled as you went to find the broom and dust pan. From saving the day to cleaning up the wreckage, a Prefect’s work was never done.
The End
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yandere-wishes · 4 years
Text
🐚Smooth Criminal //Yandere! Gangster! Floyd Leech X Reader//🐚
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My first Gangster AU! This is most likely going to end up being a series for each of the different boys! SO please tell me what you thought!
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So, Annie are you ok, are you ok Annie?
the bar bristled with the loud shouts of its patrons. Each table housing at least a dozen members from the same group, all glaring at those from rival gangs. Guns sat, leaned against their master's legs, like school backs at a highschool cafeteria. maybe it was the dim, cheap lights, or the distracted rivalry stares. But by some freak miracle, no one noticed you enter the Jackson. This wasn't a place for a dame such as yourself, a pretty girl who lacked status, a weapon, and even a comrade to have their back. Just a doll-like face and a very obvious briefcase.
Even you were conscious of the fact that you stuck out like a rose in the middle of a field filled with weeds. At any moment one of these goons could turn around and grab you, slam your head on one of the wooden tables till your brains spilled out than claim the loot for themselves, no consciences faced.
Naturally, you wouldn't be here had it not been for your dear uncle Crowley, who had very recently gambled away the equivalent of a small fortune in the underground casino of the infamous Mostro Lounge. Well technically the cousin was only partly owned by the Octavinelle gang, most of the games and funds went to their brother gang of Ignihyde. But for some reason it had been one of the Octavinelle members to come after your uncle, breaking down the door to his house and threatening him with punches and verbal insults. Your "poor" uncle had promised to get him the money, it took about two loans on his house, a few hundred borrowed from his close friends and a lot of support from your own father until he was able to gather the needed amount. But that had left one tiny problem, your sweet uncle had been so shaken up from his last encounter that he had all but begged his only niece to deliver the money for him.
"It's very simple, sweetheart, you just go to the Jackson and give this briefcase to the man with teal hair and anisocoria eyes. I would never make you do something difficult dear, I'm too kind"
Yeah right "too kind"  was an exaggeration, heck nice wasn't any better. Your uncle was a useless old fool. Then again where you any better? You'd just marched into the most mobster ridden bar in all of this godforsaken city. With nothing more than a white circular dress and a briefcase with your uncle's initials engraved in it. You took a shaky breath before scanning the room, trying to find the man your uncle had described. Teal hair and anisocoria eyes, wearing the signature black and purple of the  Octavinelle gang.
A glance around confirmed that there where members from each of the Twisted Seven here. The twisted seven where the infamous gangs of New NightRaven City. Each gang was started sometime before even their current leaders where born. The original leaders had gone down as the pioneers of turning New NightRaven City into a gangsters paradise. Somehow the leadership roles had trickled down to the current seven, mostly through heritage. The history of the Twisted Seven was thought in schools all over the city more vigorously than actual world history. Up to this day, you weren't quite sure how or why the first world war had started but you could name every leader for each group in chronological order.
In the far back of the bustling room, you noticed an abnormality. One guy was sitting by himself at a four-person booth. A half-empty coke rocks glaring back at him. Your eyes widened, that was him! It had to be! Turquoise locks peaked out from under his black hat. For a split second his head turned, his eyes looking about unseeingly. That's when you noticed his eyes. One was vibrant gold, while the other borders on an olive-like green, both orbs, however, seemed to shine with a sort of mischievous glow.
Swallowing down a sense of foreboding deep in your soul, you gradually strolled over to the man. He didn't seem to notice you until you had rearranged into the seat before him. When his eyes met yours, his lips maneuvered into an open-mouth grin showing heaps of razor-sharp teeth. "OoO~ Who might you be little shrimp-chan?" His voice didn't seem able to hold a steady tone, vocals switching between high and low better every word, making the man appear all the more deranged. You sucked in a nervous breath. Under the table you squeezed your knees together, focusing on how the kneecaps pressured each other.
"Um..I'm (y/n), my uncle owed the Octavinelle some money and..."
"Oh so your here to pay off his debt?" He leaned in closer, tongue flickering out to run across his lips. His mismatched eyes scanned you up and down, lingering just a little too long on your chest. Quickly you made slung your arm over your over breasts, trying to muster up a glare to shoot at the audacious male. 
"N-not like that" You pulled up the briefcase, pummeling it down on the table with a noisy "thud".  "He has the money, he owned you. All ten thousand dollars." 
Around the two of you, people became to stare, all pulling out their cells, no undoubtedly to inform their superiors about the transaction going down in plain view. The gangster in front of you, slowly trailed his gaze around the room, shooting challenged to meet his eyes. "Are you sure you aren't the payment? You're pretty, could round up a bunch of customers for the Lounge~ Oh maybe we could even loan you out to customers that way it would only take seven months to repay your uncle's debt--"
It was pure impulse on your part, rage had taken over your body. Your hand moved on its own, stretching out for the halve empty coke glass, carrying your body with itself. Your fingers wrapped sufficiently tight around the cup. Tugging it towards yourself, before tilting it and spilling its liquid contents in the face of the man in front of you. It took a moment for the events to fully process in either of your heads. Angry breaths left your mouth before you stood up and marched over to the door. Shouting one last cruse at the mobster before slamming the door behind you.
Back at the booth, Floyd had finally realized what had happened. His shoulders began to vibrate uncontrollably. A sadistic bloodthirsty laugh falling from his lips. His eyes lifted to where you had been moments priory a sort of childlike greed shining inside his orbs. "Shrimp-chan~" he cooed to the empty space.
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Sam pulled the yellow tape over his head, contracting his back so he could duke under it. In front of the building, he noticed a man with a red trench coat surrounded by five other police officers. The man must have been in his late 40's maybe even mid 50's. Sam let out a haughty breathy laugh. This was his new partner? The younger man jogged up to the small group. "Detective Trein I presume?" Sam was met by a harsh glare from the older man. "you're the rookie?" disapproval clear in every word. Ouch.
"You bet I am sir," Sam made a gesture akin to tilting a top hat as he bowed slightly. "Sam, reporting for duty". "What no last name?" "No Sir, just my mother given name, a nice one too I might add." Sam kept his eyes lowered but he could practically feel the way his new partner rolled his grey eyes. "Fine than Sam, follow me I trust you shouldn't find this case too hard. It's a simple kidnapping case. Nothing too elaborate for your young mind." Man, this guy really was a prick.
For as far as Sam could see this really was just an everyday kidnapping. All signs pointed towards just that. "If you would direct your attention to the window." Sam jumped from his thoughts. He quickly jogged up to where Trein was standing by a broken window. "The invader came in from here, most likely he climbed up the fire escape. Where guessing he had a knife on him or some other sharp object." Sam smiled, how had the old man gotten all that from an open window?
The second you left the bar, you had run all the way back to your apartment. The second you had gotten home you locked the doors and made a quick call to your uncle. As usual, he was "busy" doing whatever it was he did. Leaving a fast paced voicemail explaining that you had given the mobster his money and that you were home now. Leaving out the section you had caused. It was over finally the whole nightmare was over. your eyes darted to the old clock on your wall 9:15 pm late enough for dinner. Making your way to the kitchen, you forgot to notice that you had in fact left the window closest to the fire escape wide open. 
"Bang!"
The noise reverberated across the cramped apartment. Causing you to jump out of your thoughts. Anxiously you snatched a kitchen blade as you gradually strolled again into the front room. Your brain continued replaying the occasions of that night. It must be the Octavinelle, they had sought you out! All things considered, you had embarrassed one of their members. When you finally made it to the living room, you were both surprised and relieved. There weren't a hundred armed goons flooding your apartment with guns ready to shoot you on sight. Instead, it had been the man from earlier, casually standing by the window, whistling some tune that was eerie familiar. 
It took a moment before the man noticed you. His whistling stopped and was instead replaced with a shark-like smile. "HI~ little shrimp! I forgot to introduce myself earlier~ Name's Floyd what's yours darling?" Nervously you stepped back, knife clenched tightly to your chest. 
"G-Get away from me!"
"How do you know the man was armed? Heck, how do you know he was a guy?" Sam asked. Trein let out an annoyed huff. "Seriously do you know nothing? Well, I guess you are rather new to this." The grey-haired man turned to his younger partner. Sam swear for a moment he caught a glimpse of what may have been considered a "father instinct" although never having had a father, he could have been completely wrong. "When you've been in this profession as long as I have, you pick up on. There are small differences that become obvious once you've cracked your first ten cases. Notice the blood on the carpet, and realize how 40 mm away there is a smaller bloodstain, only this one has been pressured into the carpet, due to its crescent-like scape we can confidently deduce that it was made by a heel. And look closely at the carpet starts, look at how they seem to be red from the roots and middle, not just the tips. All that point to our invader having stepped in the first blood pool than having made the second engraving with the heel of his shoe as he chased the victim." Sam's eyes widen, maybe the old man wasn't just a jerk, after all, maybe he knew a thing or two.
"Is that any way to treat a guest little shrimp?~" His eyes locked with yours, freezing you in your spot like a dear in headlights. Noticing your dumbfounded form he ran forward prying the knife from your weak grip. A scream filled the air, it took you a second to realize it had come from you. When your eyes went back to your offenders face you could see how his lips were pointed downwards a deathly glare coating his eyes. 
The next moment his fingers made contact with your cheek, you swore you could hear a crescendo, your body felt heavy your head started spinning, for some reason the ground was getting closer and closer until you felt your body crash into the carpet. Your left cheek stung, as well as feeling like it was on fire. as you laid on the floor you watched as something red slipped onto the carpet. Something thick and red. "Oh, shrimpy you look so pretty when you bleed." 
Trein made his way to the kitchen, flicking a switch the moment he passed the threshold. A single light overhead flickered to life. "Kinda cramped for a kitchen ain't it?" Sam asked as he peeked over Trein shoulder. The older man ignored his partner's comment, wordlessly he pointed to the table in at the far left-hand side. Sam's red eyes followed the man's finger, Dead center there was a large kitchen knife ended in the old-looking wooden table. "Usually women are more calculating when they performed a kidnapping. Men are the ones that go ramped like wild beasts." Sam nodded his head absentmindedly. The young investigator made a mental note to never be as obvious if he ever did decide to kidnap someone.
"Oh~ that's so pretty." You had only known "Floyd" for a little over an hour, that including your rather unpleasant meaning back at the Jackson. But already you could tell just how short the man's attention span was. Slowly you shimmed your body from the ground, the mobster didn't seem to have noticed. The second your legs passed the kitchen's threshold you flicked the light, engulfing the tiny cooking space in total darkness. You made a swift sprint for the table, crunching under it. Your breath refused to leave your mouth, heart pounded with such force you were certain it would break the bones of your rib cage. In the distance, his loud footsteps could be heard. Closer and closer and closer. You didn't dare open your eyes, but you kept your ears open, trying to pick up any lose noises he might make.
1 heartbeat 
2 heartbeats
3 heartbeats
Nothing. There was no more noise to be heard, slowly your eyes cracked open, a tiny fragile breath escaped your mouth, right before a sharp noise echoed above head. Floyd's twisted head came into view that damned smirk still on his lips. Another scream, this time you knew it was coming from you. The teal haired man reached to grab the collar of your shirt, pulling you forward. You kicked and thrashed about as the gangster such laughter. Really how sick was this man? Finally, with one last kick, you freed yourself, Floyd fell backward clutching his stomach mutter some profanity you'd never heard before. Quickly you made a dash for your room. Locking the door behind you.
"And this is the last destination of our tour," Trein said as he made a sweeping gesture with his hand. Sam was almost certain he heard a hint of humor in the old man's tone. "What happened here?" The rookie asked. "Why Sam! I thought you where a detective, can't you deduce this simple problem?" Definitely humor. Sam quickly scanned the room. 'Um, he dragged her into the room, locking the door behind them. Then broke the window preparing to escape. But then a third party broke the door down, trying to save the girl. Before the third party could intervene it's likely that the man pulled her through the window and killed her behind some ally." Trein only nodded, following along with the boy's story. "Well Sam you sure have an active imagination, but it's most likely that this is what happened..."
You could hear the pounding on your door, slowly you backed away heading for your nightstand, aimlessly you tried to locate your phone. Until you remembered that you had left it on the couch. "Dang it" Your eyes scanned the room nervously trying to find something helpful, anything!
BANG
pieces of wood flew around the room, you brought your hands up to shield your face, only to have them pulled downwards. Your eyes looked upwards, instantly locking with Floyd's "Found you~" he sang. In the midst of the chaos, Floyd smashed his lips yo yours, they were unpleasant, chapped, and salty. You tried pushing him away but to no avail.   Gradually he broke the kiss, pushing his forehead to yours. Before slinging you over his shoulder and ramming full force into the window in your room. Crashing the glass and escaping into the night with you. It was at that moment that you knew that this was your doom!
"That's the more likely explanation for what happened," Trein explained as he made is way back to the front door. "Well even if it isn't it's more then convincing for a field report and a good enough explanation to give the press". A confused look twisted over Sam's face "How do you know he didn't kill her?" The black-haired boy asked. Trein just laughed and waved a wrinkled hand dismissively. "Call it a hunch" He yelled behind his shoulder.
And what a hunch! Just as the old detective predicted you were very much alive. Just now awaking and opening your (e/c) eyes to gaze into the mismatched ones of Floyd Leech's.
You’ve been hit by a smooth criminal
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spooderboyandtincan · 4 years
Text
The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange
By @spooderboyandtincan for @iloveirondad
Rating: Not Rated
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, May Parker & Tony Stark, Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & The Avengers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Harley Keener, May Parker, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), The Avengers, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes
Summary: Unbeknownst to Tony, Harley is bullying his kid. 
Ao2 Link: Here
A/N: @iloveirondad Thank you so much for the prompt! It was so fun to write!
Peter couldn’t remember when he started referring to Tony as “Dad” in his head. But he could count on one hand the times he had actually called Tony that.
The first three times they had brushed it off, Peter blushing a dark red, Tony smiling into his palm and tears blooming in the corners of his eyes.
The fourth time, Peter lay in the medbay with a white bandage wrapped around his head and Mr. Stark clutching his hand tightly, and he had called him Dad. Tony had teared up (and began to cry) and said he would love it if Peter called him dad.
Peter had it all planned out. It was all he could think about the entire day, even in science when he was reprimanded for not paying attention. He’d jump into the car, grin, and say “Hi, Dad! Guess what score I got on the science quiz!”
He felt a warm rush every time he thought of it. 
Peter rushed out of the school, shouting a quick goodbye to Ned. He flung the car door open. “Hi, D- oh. Happy? Umm, h-hi.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed, kid,” said the driver. Peter shut the passenger door, sighing, and opened the back door. 
“Where’s Mr. Stark?” he asked. 
Happy met his eyes in the mirror. “Boss is at the penthouse. He has somebody he wants you to meet.”
Well, that sure cleared things up, Peter thought. Was it a doctor? A therapist? A scientist? His evil clone?
When he arrived at the penthouse, he wasn’t met with an insane doctor trying to kill his mentor with a bludgeon, just Tony and a kid sitting at the kitchen island, drinking strong coffee.
A kid.
A young man, he corrected himself. He was tall, far taller than Tony and much taller than Peter, with his hair wavy and styled with what must have been copious amounts of hair gel. He wore a red flannel shirt with sleeves he’d buttoned at the elbow, and ragged, torn up jeans with gray sneakers.
“Pete!” Tony exclaimed, jumping up to giving him a quick side hug and ruffling his hair. “Hey, buddy. How was school?”
“Fine. Who’s that?”
At his dreary response, Tony’s eyes glinted with worry. “This is Harley, kiddo. He’s staying here while he looks at colleges. And Harley, this is Peter.” 
The young man, Harley, stepped forward, extending his hand. “Hey, Peter. Nice to finally meet you.”
Peter shook his hand and smiled, joining him at the kitchen island. “Nice to meet you too!” 
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” said Harley. “And I mean a lot.” He glanced towards Tony, who was bustling around, making hot chocolate and cider and getting snacks, oblivious. “It’s all he ever talks about. ‘Peter did this, Peter did that, guess what Peter’s doing right now.’” Harley rolled his eyes. “It gets pretty annoying, to be honest.”
“O-oh. Sorry?” Ouch. 
“Eh. I can tolerate him,” he shrugged. Peter glanced down at the table, running his finger across the lines in the wood. They sat together, the only sounds coming from the clinking of a spoon against a pan as Tony made hot chocolate.
“So what are you?” Harley whispered suddenly, leaning forward. “His secret kid?”
He blinked. “No, no, um… I’m just his intern. Personal intern.” The lie sounded forced, even to him. He was Tony’s kid, biological or not.
“Right,” the young man said skeptically. Peter looked at the table awkwardly, before a plate of cookies was placed in front of him. 
“Thanks, Mr. Stark.” Peter grinned.
“Of course, bud.” Tony pulled up a stool next to him, and Peter felt a warm hand on his back. He grabbed a cookie (double chocolate-chip) and sipped his mug of hot chocolate.
“It’s September,” Harley said suddenly. 
“Indeed it is,” Tony replied, not looking up from the plate of cookies, hand hovering above them while he tried to decide which one he would take.
“So why are you drinking hot chocolate?” He looked at Peter, frowning and perplexed, like Peter had performed some unspeakable offense.
He blushed and took a large drink from his mug. “It-it’s just cold out. Y’know.” 
Plus, he couldn’t thermoregulate. Most days he would do anything to get warm. Besides stealing Tony and Ned’s sweatshirts, he could (and would) down ten cups of hot chocolate in a single sitting.
Tony immediately jumped to his defense, sensing Peter’s discomfort at Harley’s not-so-kind words. He stood up and poured another cup for himself, looking Harley directly in the eye. “Cheers.” 
Tony hid his smile behind the mug when Harley looked at him like You too?
~~~~~
“So, Tony, what have you been doing?” asked Harley. “I haven’t heard much about you, just Peter.”
The older man chuckled, twisting spaghetti between his fork and spoon. “Superhero duties keep me pretty busy, kid. Not much else to talk about.” 
Harley scoffed. “Yeah, right. All those ‘superhero duties,’ and you have the time to… you can spend time with your personal intern?” He gestured to Peter. 
Peter knew without looking that there was a tension in Tony’s shoulders, knew that every single instinct in him was screaming ‘protect Peter.’
I don’t need protecting.
But before Peter could say anything, Tony spoke up. “Maybe you can tell us?” he joked, keeping his tone light. “You seem pretty interested in my personal life.”
Harley pursed his lips and frowned. “I was just curious.”
Tony nodded but stayed silent, though he reached out to pat Peter’s back gently. Harley did seem oddly fascinated with Tony’s personal life and his relationship with Peter.
But who would blame him for being curious? 
“Maybe that’s enough about me,” Tony said, trying to keep the air light. “Harley, how have you been?”
The other man snorted. “Boring. My sis just started high school, Mom got a new job, and I have a month till graduation.”
“That’s so cool!” Peter exclaimed, eyes lighting up. “What college do you wanna go to?”
“Anywhere away from Tennessee. Can’t wait to get out of that shit-hole.”
“Watch your language, there’s a kid.” Tony was only half-teasing. He covered Peter’s ears. “You may proceed, young sir.”
Peter shook Tony’s hands off his ears, though he could still hear perfectly fine. “I’ve always wanted to go to MIT! Do you think you might go there?”
“I told ya, kid, anywhere away from my house.”
~~~~~
Peter held back a gasp as thunder and rain pounded in his ears. Ow ow ow.
His attempts were useless, however, as Harley snorted and rolled his eyes, “Aww, you scared?” 
Peter frowned at Harley’s sudden change in mood. “N-no.” He winced, both at the thunder and the way his voice cracked. “No. I’m not scared.”
It just hurts.
Peter listened carefully for Tony’s heartbeat, hoping the man would come to calm his nerves, but the storm had completely drowned him out. Even with his super-hearing he could only hear the pounding rain.
Tony had been dragged to a meeting by Pepper, who claimed his presence was absolutely necessary. He had hoped Peter and Harley could spend some “bonding time” together, but that wasn’t going too well. 
It wasn’t going well at all. 
Peter would give anything for Mr. Stark to realize that he needed him. 
“Christ, what are you, a baby?” Harley snapped as Peter flinched. “Does Tony have to deal with this shit?”
Peter hid his face in his knees. You’re stronger than this. Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. He squeezed his eyes shut, but one pearly tear slipped out. 
Tony had seen him cry, more times to count, and always he was soft and gentle and kissed his temple, and wouldn’t let go of Peter.
“You crying, sweetheart?” Harley mocked, his voice high pitched and false. “Shit, you’re such a disappointment.”
Stop it stop it stop it. Harley’s words tore at his heart. Stop talking.
“Actual question, though,” he smirked. “Does Tony even care? It has to be a charity event, right?”
Tears leaked from Peter’s eyes. “No.”
Tony loved him, and had told him countless times how much. Tony loved him more than anything.
But Harley’s words drummed into his mind. He couldn’t help the tiny, almost unnoticeable sliver of doubt creep into his head.
Tony loved him. 
Right?
“Lemme break it to you Parker.” Suddenly Harley’s hand was squeezing his shoulder almost unbearably tight. “He doesn’t care.  He doesn’t care. Trust me, it’s for publicity, and I know it. I know him.”
Tony would never, ever lie to him.
“Don’t touch me,” Peter whispered weakly. “You’re lying.”
“I’m doing you a favor, Parker you know that? You’re just a naïve little kid.” He squeezed his shoulder again. Peter was sure he had finger-print shaped bruises forming on his skin. “You don’t know anything.”
No no no Tony-
With that, Harley flopped back on the couch, winking maliciously at the other boy, and turning on the tv. Peter buried his head between his knees, trying to hide himself in the cushions. 
Tony loved him. Peter was going to call him Dad.
“Hey, bud, what’s up?” 
Peter jumped when Mr. Stark’s figure suddenly appeared in the doorway. Though he glanced down the moment Tony’s eyes met his, he could see the flash of worry and parental panic on his face at his tears.
“Hey, hey, oh no,” Tony murmured, rushing to his side. He squeezed next to him in the armchair and cupped his cheek with warm, gentle fingers, wiping his tears away. “No, honey, what’s wrong? Shh. Are you hurt? Do you feel bad?”
Peter shook his head frantically, not wanting to cause anymore heat between Harley and himself. Tony smiled warmly, though his eyes were worried and he was desperate to help his kid. “Really, bud? ‘Cause it sure doesn’t look like that.”
He glanced nervously at Harley, who sent him a warning glare.
“I’m fine.”
Tony sighed. Peter held back a gasp when he turned to Harley. “Kid, do you know what happened?” 
The young man stood, faux worry crossing his face. “No. I have no idea. Is he okay?”
Another sigh rustled Peter’s curls. He blinked back tears, sensing how distraught Tony would be seeing him cry. 
He slipped out of his hold and ran.
“Peter!”
~~~~~
Tony’s day, which had been going surprisingly well, upended the moment he got an alert from his AI.
The alert filled the screen of his phone when he picked it up, not that he wouldn’t have noticed anything that read ‘Peter’s emotional distress rate at 7/10 and rising.’
Of course, how could he have been so stupid? Peter’s senses must have been going insane while the storm pounded outside. Tony ran for the door, his chair falling back in the process.
Ignoring the exclamations of the old geezers behind him (“Stark, where do you think you’re going?”) he rushed up the stairs, knowing the elevator would take far too long. 
“Hey, bud, what’s up?” he asked, attempting to hide his concern as he glanced at his kid, who was curled in an armchair with his head between his knees. 
Shit.
When Peter looked up, Tony had just enough time to see his red eyes and the shiny tear tracks on his face.
“Hey, hey, oh no,” he cooed, hugging Peter tightly with one hand and wiping his tears away with the other. “No, honey, what’s wrong? Shh. Are you hurt? Do you feel bad?”
Tony’s worry was only slightly assuaged when Peter shook his head, because it was obvious his kid wasn’t okay.
“Really, bud? ‘Cause it sure doesn’t look like that.” Please, baby, tell me what’s wrong.
“I’m fine.” 
Tony sighed. Oh, buddy. Hoping to retrieve some information to why his kid was so riled up, because sensory overloads always left him clinging to Tony, not shying away.
Something must have happened, and it terrified him.
“Kid, do you know what happened?” 
“No. I have no idea. Is he okay?” Harley stood up, biting his lip and looking worried.  
He glanced back to the boy, and was shocked when he flinched, and then broke from his hold and ran.
“Peter!” Tony jumped up to follow his kid. 
“Pete, open the door, please,” he begged, knocking on the wood. “Let me help you, buddy, c’mon. Please.”
Silence.
“Please.”
Nothing. 
He tested the doorknob and was surprised to find it wasn’t locked. “Petey, I’m gonna come in, just to check on you, okay?”
The door swung open and Tony stepped inside and-
The room was empty.
The window was wide open, curtains whipping back and forth in the wind, raindrops falling on the window sill.
He dashed to the window and leaned out, shielding his eyes from the rain. “Peter?!” He squinted, desperately trying to find the form of his precious spider-kid. 
“FRIDAY-”
“Already on it, boss,” said the AI. “Tracking Peter.”
Tony barely noticed when the suit formed around him, too distracted by FRIDAY’s voice. 
“Boss, I am unable to find Peter’s location.”
“Try again, call him,” he ordered, blasting straight through the window, glass shattering around him. 
The phone rang.
And rang.
And rang.
“Boss, he didn’t answer-”
“Try again.” He searched the tops of the buildings and the alleyways frantically, his suit focusing on every heat signature and determining it wasn't his kid.
Please, please, please be okay, Peter
The call rang. Peter didn’t pick up.
I’m coming Petey, I’ll find you
There-
A small figure with a bright blue hoodie.
Peter!
~~~~~
Peter wiped his tears away angrily and yanked on his mask. He didn’t bother to get the suit, just snapped on his webshooters, opened the window, and jumped.
He let himself fall for just a little too long, the wind screaming and whistling in his ears as he dropped.
He caught himself in barely enough time, his curls brushing the cement before he went shooting upwards.
Peter swung from building to building, gliding through alleys, jumping over gaps in apartments. He jumped down to the pavement and rubbed his eyes under the mask, then started walking in a feverish haze.
Mr. Stark loved him, right?
Of course he did!
It was so clear. When he looked in the man’s eyes they were filled with love and fondness and it was so obvious how much he cared- and when Tony cupped his cheek and kissed his forehead and spoke softly to him, like he was the only thing in the universe that mattered.
But Harley’s words had drilled doubt into his mind.
He gulped and tried to shake his thoughts away. Shut it, Parker. It’s not true. Shut up.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t silence his own thoughts that simply. 
Does he love you? Does he? 
Yes!
Are you sure?
...Yes.
Stop it it’s not true-
“Hey! Put your hands up.”
The hairs on his neck and arms prickled. He turned slowly, raising his arms.
He was met with the muzzle of a pistol.
“Dude,” he mumbled, sniffing and hoping his tears hadn’t leaked through his mask. “Not cool.”
“Spider-Man!” the woman gasped, the gun shaking slightly. “I-I didn’t…” she took a deep breath and steeled herself. Shaking away her ponytail and adjusting the ski mask on her head, she snapped, “I need money and you’re gonna give it to me.” She clicked the safety off the gun. “Isn’t that right, spidey?”
“Ummm, I don’t have a wallet- I mean I have one, I just didn’t bring it with me because… um… stuff like this happens,” Peter rambled. “I mean, no offense! I just like to plan ahead- actually I didn’t plan ahead, I kinda just jumped out of the window, but I mean, you get it, right?”
“What?” she snarled. “No excuses, Spider-Man. Give me the fucking money.”
“I’m telling the truth, lady. I don’t have any money! So if you could just put the gun down maybe we can hug it out?”
Normally he would have been faster, his reflexes quick and blinding, but when he had said “hug it out” he remembered how much he wanted a hug.
A hug from Tony.
And then there was a loud bang that nearly shattered his eardrums and bullet pierced through his side. And then another bang. And one more.
White hot pain radiated through his torso and Peter had to hold back a sharp cry. He doubled over in pain, clutching the bullet wounds. He could tell from experience that all three bullets were stuck in his flesh. Peter collapsed to the ground, blood already soaking the thick material of his sweatshirt.
It must have hit something important, he thought hazily.
The woman knelt next to him and turned his body over roughly. Peter whimpered as she elbowed his wound. She dug through the pockets on his hoodie and gave a disgusted curse when her now bloody hands found no money. 
“Told ya,” he mumbled, gazing up at the night sky.
He’d forgotten it was raining. Had it been raining this whole time? 
Peter liked the rain but he didn’t like thunder. It was too loud.
The villain stood up, cured again, and kicked his body in displeasure. He groaned. “Damn you, Spidey.” And then she ran.
At least she didn’t take off my mask, he thought. Peter blinked slowly and moved his hand to rest on his face.
It was getting hard to breathe, which probably wasn’t good. With his last ounce of strength, he peeled off his mask. Panting heavily, he realized too late that now he couldn’t call Tony.
(Shouldn’t have disabled that tracker)
“Tony,” he gasped. “Dad. D-Dad.” 
He glanced up. Were those repulsors he heard in the distance? Or was it just his imagination?
~~~~~
“Peter!”
Iron Man sped towards the ground at breakneck speed, so fast that a warning alert popped up on his screen.
“Pete,” he whispered, landing with such force that he cracked the pavement. “Petey.”
He sprinted forward and collapsed to his knees and for a moment his hands hovered over Peter’s body, not sure what to do. “Baby.”
He dug his fingers into the boy’s pulse point. The beat was there, to his overwhelming relief, but weak and staggered. 
Tony sobbed quietly, blood covering his fingers. “Petey- Petey, wake up,” he begged “I’m right here, kiddie, you just gotta wake up, okay?” Tony pulled Peter to his lap and cradled him against his chest with a gentle touch. “Please, baby. Wake up.”
He smoothed Peter’s bangs from his sweaty brow and kissed his forehead tenderly, trying to coax him awake, to let his kid know that he was right there. 
The child’s eyes fluttered and Tony gasped. “Petey. Wake up, honey, you’re doing great. Open your eyes, bambino.”
“D-dad?” Peter rasped, blinking up at him. 
“Oh, baby, I’m here, Dad’s right here,” Tony cooed, cupping his cheek and rubbing his thumb against the soft skin. He struggled to pull off his jacket and pressed it against Peter’s wound.
Peter gave a sharp cry. “Dad… it hurts. Stop! H-hurts!”
“I know it hurts, baby, I’m so sorry, I’m gonna help you, okay? You’re gonna be okay, honey,” he assured him with a gasp. God, he was hurting his kid. “We’re gonna go visit Helen, she’ll fix you right up. I just need you to hold on, okay? Hold on for me, please, Petey. I need you.”
Peter took a shuddering breath and whimpered. “Hur’s… hur’s, Dad.” 
Tony nodded and squeezed his eyes shut, kissing the top of Peter’s head, wishing the horror of his baby, lying limp and bleeding out in his arms, wasn’t true. God, he wished this was just a horrible nightmare, wished he could wake up and find Peter safe and warm in bed. 
“P-Pete, oh baby, I’m so sorry. I’m supposed to protect you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby.”
“No… ‘ony, don’ c-cry,” Peter slurred, reaching up a trembling hand. Tony grasped it like a lifeline and pressed his lips to the knuckles.
“Dad,” he mumbled. “Dad. D-do you… do you l-love me?
Tony stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, trying to grasp how his precious kid could think he, who loved him with his entire heart and soul, didn’t love him. His kid, who was his life, his entire universe. 
“Peter,” he choked. “Petey, I love you so much, so so much. I love you more than anything, baby, I love you so much. I love you.”
Peter grinned hazily up at him. “K-knew it.”
And he exhaled shakily and his eyes slipped shut. 
“N-no,” Tony whispered. “No. No, no no no, no! Peter! Peter, wake up! Peter! Wake up right now!”
Tony sobbed and dropped his forehead against Peter’s rocking him back and forth gently. “No, no no no, please, please no,” he moaned. 
Tony ran shaking fingers across Peter’s clammy brow, then kissed his forehead firmly. “Goddammit, Petey, hold on.” Tears trickled down his cheeks. 
He lay Peter on the ground, heart aching every second he wasn’t holding his child, and let the suit form around him, then scooped up his kid, adjusting him gently in his arms, and shot into the sky, thrusters at full speed. 
Peter’s vitals appeared on the screen in front of him. Tony’s eyes flitted from Peter’s baby face to his steadily weakening pulse on the screen.
Oh god, stay with me sweetheart
His heart beat so fast he doubted it could be detected. He urged the suit to go faster, faster, speeding to the tower medbay. 
“FRI-” he began shakily.
“I’ve contacted Dr. Cho and Dr. Banner, boss,” the AI assured. “They’ve prepared the medbay and are ready to help Peter.”
“Okay. Okay. Good.” 
Peter would be okay
He had to
Tony needed him 
Tony mumbled to himself, hysteria setting in as he sped to the tower. The time passed in a blur of fear and worry, and Tony just wanted to hold Peter in his arms, safe and warm and alive.
Please!
Just let him be okay.
Suddenly Tony was thudding against the landing pad and was met with the med team. They were prepared with a cot and various medical equipment that Tony couldn’t bother to name. 
“Tony!” Helen Cho rushed towards him. 
“H-Helen, help him,” he begged. “Help him!”
“I will, Tony, breathe. You need to give Peter to us.” She reached out to take the boy from Iron Man’s arms. Tony pulled away protectively, shielding Peter, before the rational part of his mind realized to help Peter he would need to let go.
He could only watch in terror as the med team swarmed over the boy, wires and tubes and monitors slapped to his chest and face. Peter was rolled away on the cot, before something in his brain snapped into place. 
God, he had to protect Peter, he had to be with his baby he had to protect him, he couldn’t let Peter go he couldn’t let go-
Tony sprinted after his kid. “Peter!”
 ~~~~~
 May, Rhodey, and Natasha rushed into the medbay at the same time, Rhodey’s braces echoing in the bare hallways. 
There they found Tony, sitting against the wall of Peter’s surgery room, wringing his hands and staring off into space. His eyes were red and silvery tear tracks stained his face. 
“Tony! What happened? Is Peter okay?! Where is he?” May yelled. Tony flinched in surprise. 
“May,” he said, his voice gravelly. “May, I-I…” Tony massaged his face. The three knelt next to him, Rhodey’s arm around his back, May’s hand on his shoulder, and Nat’s hand on his foot.
“What happened, Tony?” Rhodey said softly, obviously worried for his (kind of) nephew. And his best friend, who was clearly devastated. 
Tony sniffed. “H-he was shot. Three times, I think. I-I…” He held up his shaking hands, which were covered in blood. Peter’s blood.
May gasped. Nat’s composure slipped for just a second. Rhodey squeezed his eyes shut, then stood up and came back carrying a warm, wet cloth. 
Gently he took Tony’s hand and began to work the blood off them. Tony normally would have teared up at his best friend’s kind gesture, but he could only think of his beloved kid, in the room right next to him, having strangers poke and prod and cut him. His kid, who was alone and bleeding and hurt-
Oh god. His baby.
Rhodey caught Tony in his arms as he began to sob. 
He just wanted to hold his kid. Make sure he’s safe. Protect him so he is safe. Please.
May patted Tony’s back, lost in her own thoughts. Nat stood up and paced the length of the hallway and back again, her black boots clicking against the tiles. 
Peter’s surgery lasted three more hours, full of anguish and crying, with Natasha and Rhodey trying to comfort the frantic parents (and themselves). 
Tony remembered how close his kid had been to fading away, to never wake up again.
(If Peter died, he would too. He knew it deep down. He couldn’t live without his kid.)
He sniffed, and nearly missed the sound of the surgery door swinging open. 
Helen walked out, sighing wearily. “Gang’s all here?” she joked. 
Tony bolted to his feet, the rest following. 
“Peter?!” he gasped.
She nodded. “He’s okay, Tony. We’ll be moving him to his normal room in about ten minutes, and you can see him after that.”
Tony’s legs felt weak as a rush of relief  nearly caused him to pass out. He crumpled into Rhodey’s chest, bursting into tears once again. May hugged Natasha, who looked a bit surprised but smiled and wrapped her arms around the other woman.
The ten minutes passed achingly slow. They hovered around Peter’s room in a swarm of worry. And when the door opened, Tony was the first to run in.
Peter was pale and limp under the layers of blankets, numerous wires attached to his skin under his hospital gown. The room was dark, with only only one lamp casting golden light on Peter’s face, with the shades to the window closed. 
Tony rushed to his kid, bending over his still body and cupping his face, pressing his forehead to Peter’s. Tears trickled down his cheeks and landed on the boy’s face. He sobbed and pressed kiss after kiss to his forehead and ran his fingers through his delicate curls.
May appeared on Peter’s other side, clutching one of his small hands. She took a damp, warm rag and, not unlike Rhodey had done for Tony, began tenderly wiping at the cuts that he must have earned when he collapsed to the alley floor. She paused for a moment and kissed his cheek, gazing at him as if taking in every detail of his face. 
Tony reached out to take the cloth from her and dabbed at his baby’s face gently, eager to do anything that would help his kid, no matter how small. Natasha appeared behind them and held out a box of Spider-Man bandaids, smiling. 
“For моего ребенка паука,” she said, then retreated to the corner of the room where she hovered silently, watching Tony and May coo and fuss over their kid.
Tony took the bandaids and gently stuck them on Peter’s minor wounds. May chuckled quietly and plastered a bandaid to Peter’s chin. 
Tony carefully sat on the side of the hospital bed, playing with the boy’s soft curls. May pulled up her usual plaid armchair and continued to hold his hand tightly. The inventor murmured a few words in Italian to the boy, quiet enough so that if Peter was awake he would be the only one who could hear.
And then they both flinched violently, Tony leaping up to stand in front of Peter, when the door slammed open with such force it made a small dent in the wall.
Tony cursed angrily, glancing down to his kid to see if he had woken up prematurely. Peter’s face stayed lax.
He sat back down and took Peter’s small hand. “Harley, what are you doing here?”
“What happened to him?” Harley asked, ignoring the other man. “Like what, he’s dying now?”
Tony’s face went pale, his eyes wide. He swayed where he sat, and May darted forward to support him. “It’s okay, Tony. It’s okay. He’s okay,” she comforted. 
Natasha stepped from the shadows and put her hand on Harley’s shoulder, forcefully leading him out of the room. They could hear the young man protesting as they walked down the hallway.
“Tony?” May asked. “Are you okay?”
Tony took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. “No.” He forced a laugh.
“He’ll be okay.”
“I know,” he muttered. “I-I just hate it. I hate seeing him so-so hurt and scared and I’m scared, then he tries to reassure me when I should be doing that for him- God.” He had his hand in his hair and looked seconds away from pulling it out. “I just wish I could keep him safe,” he whispered, tears prickling in his eyes.
“I know,” said May. “Believe me, I know.”
 ~~~~~
“Rhodey,” May laughed. “Guys, this is too much.” She looked at the basket of round, oreo shaped Spider-Man pillows, to the four flower vases on the table, to the clusters of balloons tied to the end of the bed, to the various collections of cards by the flowers. 
Steve sighed. “Yeah, we know. We’ll give some to Clint’s kids.”
“No, you won’t,” Clint retorted. “I’ve tripped on three skateboards today! Three different skateboards!” 
“You can’t trip on a plushie,” Sam muttered.
“Try me! I’m the master of breaking my back!”
Bucky handed a packet of Spider-Man stickers to May. “He loves to stick these on my arm. Thought he might like these.” He leaned back into Steve’s chest and gazed up. The other man squeezed his shoulder and kissed his lips as if in some strange limbo/ twister game. 
Rhodey shrugged. “Least we can do is take care of this human disaster.” He poked Tony’s forehead and observed his disheveled appearance. Tony blinked and rubbed at his tired eyes. “Tony, you have to take care of yourself.”
“I appreciate it, everyone, thank you,” May assured. “I know Peter will love these.”
Tony picked up one of the Spider-Man plushies and tucked it under Peter’s blankets. He was squeezed next to the boy on the hospital bed, leaning against a pillow which must have been decimating his back. “There you go, bud. It’s a mini-you.” He smiled and gently ruffled his curls.
The room went quiet when the Avengers reluctantly left, forced out by Dr. Cho, who had come to refill Peter’s IV bag. Tony kissed Peter’s forehead and gently moved his head to the side when she drew out a needle, knowing that even though he was asleep, his kid hated needles.
They sat in silence once the doctor left, silently wishing for their kid to wake up.
“Pete,” he choked out suddenly. “Come on, baby, you’ve had enough time to sleep. Wake up for us, buddy, please.”
He hadn’t expected his kid to wake up, but maybe his hope was enough, because Peter’s eyelids fluttered. The two parents gasped.
Tony leaned forward, rubbing Peter’s cheekbone with his thumb and trying to coax him awake. “Come on baby, you can do it. You can do it, wake up, Petey. Wake up, there you go, that’s it.”
Peter’s eyes opened slowly. He moaned and blinked, then managed to get his eyes halfway open. 
“There he is!” the man exclaimed. “Oh baby.”
May waved from his other side. “Hi, sweetie.”
“D-d… Dad? Aun’ May?”
“Right here, honey,” Tony cooed, his heart exploding with love. Dad. Peter had called him Dad! His voice was lost in emotion for a second. 
“Hi,” the boy mumbled, grinning lazily.
“Hi there, Spider-Baby.” He bent to kiss his forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Mmmmm… feel good. Like ‘m floatin’.” He turned his head. “Hi Aun’ May.” 
“Hey, sweetie,” she murmured. 
“Wassup, bros?” he slurred loopily. They both laughed.
“Not much, bud. You slept through the night, the team came over, and… oh, I’m missing something, let me see… oh, right you got shot.” He raised one eyebrow which made Peter laugh. 
“‘M s’rry. Got distracted.”
“It’s okay, buddy. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” Tony desperately wanted to let his kid know that he didn’t have to apologize every time he almost died.
Peter hummed and squeezed Tony’s hand weakly, who squeezed back with considerably more gentle force. “Can I ask you something, kiddo?”
“Sure.”
Tony smiled. “Buddy, a few nights ago, you asked me if I loved you. Remember that?” He continued when the boy nodded in confirmation. “What did you mean? I love you so much, Petey. Did I do something wrong? Did I… did I say something bad?”
He held his breath. Had he accidentally hurt his kid? What had happened to make Peter doubt his love?
“N-no, no! I said that because… because I-I…” he took a deep breath. “Few days ago I was talkin’ t’ Harley… an’ he said you didn’ love me an’ that I was jus’ for main’ you look good. But I knew that wasn’ true.” He smiled. “Knew it.”
The ice cold shock that had hit Tony soon dissolved from anger to pure, unbridled fury.
“Harley,” he repeated, almost snarling. “Harley told you that?”
“Mm-hmm.” Peter was oblivious to Tony’s anger. “Knew he was wrong.”
“Petey- yes, he’s wrong, he’s so so wrong, baby. You know that right? You know I love you so much, so damn much?”
“I-I know, Dad. I love you too. More than… than… all the letters i-in the universe! P-plus all the stars, an’ the bugs, an’ all the little pieces of yarn in the c-carpet!”
Tony grinned fondly, kissing the boy’s forehead. God, he loved this sweet kid. “I bet I love you even more than that, buddy.”
He pushed his anger down, down, until all that was left was his never-ending love for his kid.
“Even more?” Peter gasped, eyes sparkling. “No way!”
“Yeah way,” he teased, running his fingers through his hair. Ma smothered her laughter with a hand.
“W-well, then I love you more than a-all the pixels on my computer. On all of the computers!”
“Wow, bud, that’s a lot, huh?”
Peter smiled proudly and nodded. He turned his head to his aunt. “Love you t-too May.”
“I love you too, sweetie.” She smiled and adjusted one of the little Spider-Man plushies by his side, letting him grab onto it. 
“G’night,” he said, eyes drooping. 
“Goodnight, baby,” Tony whispered, pressing a long kiss to his forehead. “I love you.”
“Nap time already?” asked May gently, smiling. “Goodnight, Pete. We’ll be here when you wake up.”
Peter’s eyes closed and his breathing slowed. His hand went limp in Tony’s, who gave it a tight squeeze.
When they knew he was deeply asleep, the pair shared a glance. 
“Who,” May asked, “is Harley?”
~~~~~
Tony strolled down the hallway casually, composure cool and collected.
On the outside.
On the inside he was a turmoil of rage and anguish and a familiar aching to get back to his kid.
But first he had to find another kid. A certain young adult. 
That kid.
The kid who had fed lies and seeds of doubt into his own kid’s mind. Doubts about a father’s love. Saying the unspeakable. 
Who caused his kid to get shot. Three fucking times.
Harley.
“Hey, kid,” he greeted calmly, sauntering into the living room where Harley lounged on the couch, swiping away on his phone.
“Hey, Tony. Geez, what happened to that kid? He get shot or somethin’?” Harley barely glanced up, not concerned it slightest.
In fact, he looked satisfied.
Stay calm, Tones. Stay calm.
“As a matter of fact, he did.”
“Fuck, man. That sucks.”
Yeah, it sure fucking does. My kid, my baby almost fucking died and it was your fault, and all you say is “that sucks?”
“Sure does. He’s doing better, though,” Tony continued. “What I wanna know is, why was he out there? Any ideas?”
Harley shrugged, not willing to share much more. “Maybe he likes the rain?”
“Maybe that’s it,” Tony considered. The icy anger flooded through him again. “Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because you told him I didn’t fucking love him. Think that’s it?”
Harley glared. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? ‘Cause I saw the footage, Harley. ‘It must be a charity event, right?’ ‘He doesn’t care?’” Tony’s eyes must have been red, he was so angry. “Kid, I really don’t think you know me as much as you think you do. You don’t know me at all.”
“Save it,” he snapped when the other man tried to protest. “He almost fucking died because of you. He could have been killed. You could have killed my kid.” 
“He- I-I-”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I want you to get out.”
“W-what? What do you mean?” Harley blinked up at him, his sneakers still getting dirt on the couch.
Tony’s face grew deadly serious. He physically had to grab his hand to restrain from calling the suit. “He. Almost. Died. You need to get out of my house and away from my kid.”
“I-I didn’t-” he began to protest. 
“Out, or I’ll call security. You need to leave,” Tony snarled.
Harley blinked, then jumped up and ran, tripping over his shoelaces as he rushed to the elevator. Tony watched, glaring, as the door closed. 
A few minutes later, FRIDAY announced, “Harley has left the building, boss.”
“Good.”
He would have loved to talk to that kid for hours, about how much he hurt his precious kid, how much he hurt him.
But he had a kid to get to.
Tony hurried back to the medbay, not bothering to knock on the wooden door and making May jump.
“Is he gone?” she asked.
“Yeah. I don’t think we’ll be seeing much of him again.” He grinned.
May nodded. “Good.” She smiled to herself, patting Peter’s foot.
(It was obvious she had a strong hatred for the man who had almost killed her nephew.)
Tony sat on the bed, making sure not to disturb the child with his sudden weight, and kissed Peter’s temple tenderly, his gaze filled with love as he memorized every detail of his kid’s face, then smoothed his hand over his curls. “Don’t worry, buddy. He won’t be bothering you ever again.” 
~~~~~~
/ST*RKER DNI/
~~~~~~
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speechlessxx · 4 years
Text
Heaven is in Your Arms
(Steve Rogers x Reader)
Summary: Steve Rogers has a secret. 
Warnings: beat up Steve, slight nudity (but like not really), nothing “bad” really happens here. 
Word Count: 1.7k
Feedback is appreciated! I hope you enjoy!
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Steve Rogers had a secret.
No one noticed at first. He kept it well hidden. But everyone noticed the changes in the captain.
On days when he didn’t have any responsibilities – just a day to himself – he would’ve normally been spotted in the compound’s gym or in his quarters, tidying it up. He’d await the next mission, preparing his body and his mind for the next fight. Then it changed. On days when he’d have no Captain America duties, he was out the compound and he’d always return with a smile.
“I went and took a jog,” he’d say.
“For the whole day?” Sam would ask. Steve just nod.
“Missed you in training, cap,” Natasha teased once. “Where were you?”
“Drawing in the park,” Steve shrugged. She’d scoff. What a grandpa.
 It didn’t stop there.
Everyone assumed Steve’s life revolved around the compound – around the Avengers. It sure seemed like it. He put blood, sweat, and tears into training recruits. His body bruised, scratched, bloodied after missions. He never ventured out. His friends started and ended with the team. He was the Avenger – the first one at that.
So, imagine everyone’s surprise when Steve Rogers announced, “I’m moving out.” Though he was – technically – one of the oldest men in the room, aside from Bucky, everyone reacted he was a defiant teenager. “I found a place in Brooklyn.”
“But isn’t this your life?” Tony asked him, gesturing to the team, the compound. Steve bit his tongue but never answered.
“This about a girl?” Bucky frowned. Everyone stayed silent. If there was a girl involved, they would’ve wanted to meet her. They would’ve wanted to ensure that whoever is taking Captain America away from them was worth it.
“No, Buck,” Steve’s reply was short, sweet. “I just… I just want a life outside of all this.”
And everyone left it at that. Who were they to keep the man who threw his whole life into the ice bound to the compound? “Let him live,” Sam defended.
(“Ten bucks there’s a girl,” Bucky whispered to him after the team watched Steve drive away on his motorcycle).
The changes continued.
During meetings, there was clearly something on Steve’s mind. He was there, but he wasn’t there. The perfect soldier’s leg bounced anxiously when he used to sit perfectly still. He used to be able to recall nearly every details from meeting – even the way Tony would switch pointers from one hand to the other. Now, he’d have his head cradled in his hand as he feigned interest as Tony nagged. He’d pay attention, of course (he wasn’t being rude), but he wasn’t actively listening. He knew the important details. 
Not to mention that damned cellphone. Steve used to have that thing silenced and stashed away in a pocket especially during meetings with the team. Suddenly, Steve had the phone faced down on the table. It buzzed. He ignored it (truthfully, he didn’t realize it buzzed). It buzzed again a minute later. Then again a second after. Steve pulled his phone under the table and crack a small smile. He’d type a response and put the phone back, face down. 
He also used to be the last one to leave. Now, as soon as the meeting reaches its end, Steve would shoot right up and go.
“What’s got you in such a hurry?” Tony called out once. “Hot date?”
“Sure,” Steve couldn’t help but smirk and gave the door frame a pat. “Sure.”
But the small changes in the super soldier’s behavior didn’t affect his command on the field. He was still as deadly, fearsome, and intimidating. He was still Captain America.
Although he may be enhanced – thanks to the serum that ran through his veins – he still got hurt. He’d still take a beating sometimes. Maybe a jab too hard in the ribs that left a few broken. Or a deep cut that needed stitching. He bruised, he bled. He was still human after all.
-=+=-
The sun had already set by the time the quinjet landed. Everyone had various injuries, and all were eager to get a good night’s rest after this long, hard mission. It had taken longer than expected. “Five days, doll. I’ll be back in five days,” Steve’s promise was fresh on his brain as everyone began to file out of the jet.
It had not been five days. It had been a week and a half. And Steve was just as eager to go home.
“Hey, Steve, your room is still empty. Bed still there. Call it a night,” Sam suggested, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sure Brooklyn can wait.”
“No,” Steve forced a smile, his face bruised but there were still a few bloody cuts. “It can’t.”
The ride to his place in Brooklyn felt longer than it used to. Perhaps, he was just tired. The moon was hidden behind the clouds as he finally arrived and parked in the parking garage of the apartment complex. His gear had been left behind at the compound. 
He made it a point to leave Captain America in the Compound and come home as just Steve.
He quietly walked up the steps of the apartment complex, trying not to make much noise. Although the neighbors were very kind, he knew that interfering with others’ sleep wouldn’t end well for him. As he reached his apartment door, he fumbled with the keys a bit. His hands were tired and ached.
“Oh, you’re home,” his neighbor, an elderly woman named Margaret – of all things – smiled. With her aging eyesight, she didn’t see the state he was in.
Steve smiled at her. “You should be asleep ma’am.”
Margaret didn’t respond. She just cracked a smile. She always liked Steve’s manners. She was watering the plant that she kept by her door. “Your girl’s been worried sick, you know. Kept going on about how you told her five days. Not even a phone call? You should have one hell of an apology ready.”
“Trust me, I do,” Steve chuckled lightly. “You have a goodnight.”
“You, too, Steve,” Margaret responded.
Steve managed to fumble the right key into the lock and twisted. The apartment was dark but just as clean as the day he left. The knickknacks were reorganized. The shelves were dusted. He smiled to himself. Of course, she’d keep herself busy with cleaning. 
He quietly took a shower and rubbed off all the grime that collected in his skin in the past week. The water that drained beneath him was tinted red as he cleaned his cuts. He dried himself and walked into the bedroom.
And there you were.
You were huddled on your side of the bed. There was an indentation in the sheets where he would’ve been. You were wearing a modern baby doll nightie.  He remembered that specific negligée for you’d take photos in them and send it to him when he was in meetings. Come home soon, the message teased. The black mesh draped over the curve of your torso. You were situated in a way that made your bum stand out in those matching black panties.
You were fast asleep with the covers only covering your feet. You were shivering. He assumed that you may have kicked the covers off like you often did. Steve quickly got dressed and got into bed.
You woke up as you felt the dip in the mattress. With sleepy eyes, your head shot up and blinked in surprise. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” his familiar voice cooed. “Just me.”
You let out a shaky sigh. You had been angry that it had been past the five days that he promised. But that anger quickly turned into concern. Why hadn’t he called? Not even a text? Was he okay? The apartment felt so lonely without him. And you feared the day he doesn’t come back from a mission. Were you to find out like everyone else? (Were you to find out through the news that your boyfriend was dead?) And now that worry – that fear – all washed away into a sense of relief.
He was right next to you and even in the darkness of the night, you saw the concern in his blue eyes. You relaxed into his touch, putting your head back on the pillow. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you to him. He let out a sigh. He missed you. So, so much.
You both laid there in silence as he spooned your backside. His grip on your body was tight as if he was afraid that you’d slip through his grasp. You shuffled your body, making yourself face towards him.
You frowned then got up. Something was off. You leaned over him to the nightstand and turned on the lamp. You let out a gasp when you saw his face. He had a swollen eye and a bruised lip with crusted blood forming at the side. He had a bruise on his temple – the discoloration was an angry purple.
Tears began to form in your eyes as you pulled up his shirt to find his body in an identical state. “Darling,” Steve sighed, pulling you towards him as you cried. You shuddered as the tears rolled down your cheeks. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I’ll heal. Please stop crying.”
“You’re not hurting?” You asked him. “Oh, my god, you need ice?” Steve chuckled, shaking his head no.
“I’m just tired,” Steve smiled. “Let’s just go to bed, yeah?”
You leaned over and gave him a soft peck, careful not to press too hard on his injuries. “I’m glad you’re home,” you whispered.
“Me, too, doll.”
He reached over and turned off the lamp. The two of you settled into bed once again. He pulled the covers over your bodies. The bed had felt so big without him to take up the other half. Steve reached down and grabbed the back of your thigh and hooked it over his waist. Your arm instinctively wrapped around his broad chest.
Steve let out another sigh as he finally fell asleep.
Steve Rogers had always fought to make the world a better place. He fought the battles, won the wars, so that everyone could have somewhere safe to be. And he finally found his safe place.
This was heaven for Steve Rogers. The home that you built together. The life that you were building. You are heaven for Steve Rogers. 
(And yes, in truth… Sam owed Bucky ten bucks. Not that he knew right now.) 
Read Part 2 (Secret’s Out) but you don’t really need to. 
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