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avengers-age-of-fanfics · 3 years

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just for you, honeybee (4/?)

pairings: steve rogers x fem!reader (platonic), bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: characters death, swearing, flirting with colonel phillips, guns, plane crash

word count: 4,327

a/n: holy crap this one is long! i really enjoyed writing this chapter just because i got to watch CA:TFA all over again and i cried like a little baby. hope you guys enjoy this! btw, next chapter is going to be very short - probably the shortest one yet, just a heads up!

“Johann Schmidt belongs in a bughouse,” Colonel Phillips started, “he thinks he’s a god and he’s willing to blow up half the world to prove it, starting with the U.S.A.”

You tensed up next to Steve as Howard moved behind you, taking a seat to your right, “Schmidt’s working with powers beyond our capabilities. He gets across the Atlantic, he will wipe out the entire Eastern Seaboard in an hour.”

Peggy’s eyes met yours before they drifted to Steve who tossed a pile of papers on the table in front of him. One of the Howling Commandos spoke up, “how much time we got?”

Colonel Phillips sorted through some files, “according to my new best friend, under 24 hours.”

You spoke up, “where is he now?”

The Colonel presented the group with a photo, “Hydra’s last base is here. In the Alps, 500 feet below the surface.”

Another Howling Commando spoke up, “so what are we supposed to do? I mean, it’s not like we can just knock on the front door.”

“Why not?” And just like that, Steve captured everyone’s attention in the room, including yours. You knew this was going to be a suicide mission, especially if he continued with this idea, “that’s exactly what we’re gonna do.”

Everyone looked at Steve with wide eyes, except for you and Peggy. Schmidt was in for a rude awakening.

Grabbing a motorcycle alongside Steve, the two of you headed into the snowy forest towards the base. Glancing over at Steve, you noticed he kept the design on the shield, joy sparking in your chest, “you kept it!”

Steve barely heard you over the sound of the motorcycles but he smiled, “not too shabby for your first Captain America design.”

You chuckled, about to respond until you glanced back, seeing six motorcycles behind you, “we got company, Cap!”

Quickly swerving back and forth to avoid whatever-the-hell they were shooting at you, Cap glanced back once more before he pushed a button on the pad attached to his motorcycle, two hooks with strings attached latching onto two trees. Right away, two guys on motorcycles failed to avoid the trap, sending them flying forward.

Cap yelled over to you, “get next to me!”

Speeding up a bit on your bike, you ended up next to Steve as he pressed another button, fire immediately covering two of the cyclists. You gave Steve a look, “that was so badass!”

On your left, you saw two Hydra motorcycles race ahead of you before you looked to Steve, “I got an idea! Move quickly!” Racing ahead, you quickly picked a pin from their motorcycles, making sure Steve was nowhere near them. Looking back, you sent a smirk his way as he sped up next to you, hearing and feeling the explosion of the motorcycles.

Riding towards the base, a tank was placed right before the entrance. Steve yelled, “stay right behind me,” just as the tank started shooting at you. Racing behind Cap, you both saw the tank explode as Steve shot at it from his motorcycle, riding up the cement barrier of the base.

Jumping over the barriers with your bikes, both you and Steve were met with Hydra soldiers with guns pointed right at you. Continuing your ride, you saw Steve jump off his, watching it explode the first wall of the base. Riding through the base, you quickly took down any soldier in your way, shooting them with your new best friend – StG 44.

Running a few fellas over with your bike, you looked over at Steve who was taking multiple soldiers down with the shield. Turning your attention back towards the fight, you continued to take down more men – but you noticed their numbers were growing bigger by the second.

In a spare glance, you turned to Steve who was now surrounded by two men holding flamethrowers, making it unable for him to move. You came to a stop, noticing a line of men pointing their guns at you. With a sigh, you hopped off your bike – but not before shooting one more guy by your feet.

You saw Cap look around for you worriedly until he met your eyes; you nodded at him, telling him to not put up a fight, at least not yet. He nodded back, allowing the Hydra soldiers to take both your weapons and leading you down the halls of the base and into a room that had it not hold one of the world’s most dangerous men, you’d say it had a beautiful view.

You and Steve stopped side-by-side with the Hydra soldiers as Johann Schmidt started talking, “arrogance may not be a uniquely American trait, but I must say, you do it better than anybody.”

This was not what you expected Johann Schmidt to look like.

He glanced at you, “seems you have no limits, Captain, bringing a woman into this.”

You glared at the red-faced monster, “I came here on my own accord, just to clarify, Schmidt.”

Johann hummed as he turned away from you, “however, even you have limits as to what you can do, Captain. Or did Erskine tell you otherwise?”

Steve spoke up beside you, “he told me you were insane.”

Schmidt seemed unsurprised, looking down to the floor and back to Steve, “ah…he resented my genius and tried to deny what was rightfully mine. But he gave you everything. So, what made you so special?”

Steve chuckled, “nothin’. I’m just a kid from Brooklyn.”

Schmidt turned to you, “how about you, little one? What makes you so special?”

You swallowed thickly, “good looks?”

You nor Steve really aren’t sure what exactly set Johann off, but a switch had flipped, and his face grew into a frown before he slapped you across the face twice, doing the same to Cap while also kneeing him in the stomach. Both you and Steve were put on your knees as all three of you breathed heavily.

With a slight grin, Steve looked up at Johann, “I can do this all day.”

Johann was not amused, “oh, of course you can, of course.” He paused before he continued, pulling a gun out from the side of his uniform, “but unfortunately, I am on a tight schedule.” He pointed the gun to Steve’s head just as the Howling Commandos began to zip line towards the base.

You growled towards Schmidt, “so are we.”

Once Schmidt realized what was happening, you and Steve quickly grabbed the guards behind you, pulling them in front as Johann fired his gun at them, their bodies disappearing in thin air. You gave Steve a look as the Howling Commandos flew in through the windows, firing at the enemy as Schmidt took off.

Quickly getting up off your feet, you scurried towards the hall where Schmidt took off, a Howling Commando yelling behind you, “Rogers! You might need this!”

Hearing the shield pass through the air, you knew Steve caught it as he yelled back, “thanks,” then hearing his footsteps take after yours.

Hydra troops marched down the halls of the base, guns ready to fire at any moment. With your heightened sense of hearing, you knew the rest of the platoon was taking over the Hydra base, gunfire slowly taking over your senses. Explosions filled the base as smoke and fire entered your senses; Steve ran beside you, sensing the same things.

You saw Schmidt turn down a corridor, yelling over to Steve, “this way!” Quickly, Schmidt retaliated, sending bolts of his gun your way, making you narrowly avoid being disintegrated. Steve ran beside you, shield blocking the gunfire as you chased after the madman.

With a lucky throw, Steve threw the shield, catching it between metal doors where Schmidt narrowly escaped. Cap let out a sigh, rushing towards the shield as you quirked an eyebrow, “lucky throw?”

Before he could answer, a Hydra Agent came around the corner with two flamethrowers, making Steve push you against the wall as he ran opposite of you; you both were trapped as fire encapsulated your vision. Glancing towards the fire welder, you tried coming up with a plan before, lo and behold, Peggy Carter shot at the man, his flaming body falling to the ground.

Both you and Steve looked around the corner, spotting Peggy as soldiers ran by; Steve smirked at Peg, “you’re late.”

Your eyes shifted towards the ceiling as you tried to avoid the awkward moment; Peggy spoke up, “weren’t you about to –“ Steve nodded, “right, yeah – y/n.” With that, you and Steve took off towards the door where the shield held its place. Grabbing your hand, Steve pulled the shield and quickly took off.

You spotted men from the 107th shooting at the giant airship, Hydra agents lying about the floor. Turning to Steve, who was a few steps behind you, you nodded your head, “we got a problem.” The ship’s engines had already started, and it seemed Schmidt was, understandably, in a rush to complete his plan. The ship turned, wheels screeching against the floor as you and Cap slowed down, watching it slowly make its way to the exit.

Steve glanced around, watching as Hydra forces and your own fought one another. With a nod towards you, both you and Steve took off, running headfirst into battle, making sure to avoid trouble along the way; that, and, well, Steve also wanted to get some hits in.

You noticed where Cap was headed as you two ran in battle, “how do you plan on fitting us both on that?”

Steve glanced back at you, “think you can hold on, kid?”

You grumbled, “yeah! But I’m literally older than you by like, 4 months…”

Quickly, Steve jumped over huddled bodies until he reached a box of supplies lying right beneath a chain; with a jump, Steve latched onto the chain as you skipped a step, latching onto his waist mid-flight. Reaching a safe zone, you jumped first, meeting Steve in a mid-run as you headed towards the ship Johann Schmidt was currently about to fly.

You and Steve ran beside one another, pushing to reach Schmidt even as fire from the engines burnt your face. You yelled over to Steve, “c’mon, Steve! We’re – we’re almost there!” Your last sentence turned into a scream, your body yelling at you for pushing itself to the limits.

The fans from the ship sped up as you and Steve struggled to catch up with Schmidt, your hopes slowly fading as he seemed to get further and further away. Steve pulled you to a slow jog, about to crash until Peggy Carter and Colonel Phillips pulled up beside you in one of Schmidt’s cars.

Colonel Phillips yelled at you both, “get in!” Before you even settled down beside the Colonel and Steve beside Peggy, you took off, hair flying behind you. You turned to the Colonel with a smirk on your face, “nice ride, Phillips!”

The Colonel glanced a look at you as he sped up, “figured I might keep this once we’re done here!” You let out a laugh that soon died off as you recognized the light from the sun and a runway – right where Schmidt currently was.

You looked to the Colonel, a worried look on your face, as he pressed a button beside the steering wheel; right away, the car you were seated in blasted off, hair wildly being thrown behind you as the Colonel grasped onto the wheel. You held onto the door handle, eyes wide as you were reaching the ship, “remind me to never drive with you again, Colonel!”

With shaky legs, you began standing up as Steve did the same mid-ride, reaching the back end of the ship. You and Steve yelled to the Colonel, “keep it steady!”

Peggy shouted over the sounds of the ship and car engines, “wait!” Steve looked back to Peggy as she pulled him into a kiss.

You looked to the Colonel with a shrug; he shook his head at you, “I ain’t kissin’ you!” You gave a laugh as you blew him a kiss, leaning on the hood of the car to avoid getting chopped up by the propellers on the ship. Steve followed right behind you, shield meeting the propellers only once, sparks flying.

You glanced at Steve quickly before you jumped towards the ship’s wheel, grabbing onto the metal support beam as Steve flew right below you, catching onto the lasting part of the wheel. Looking down, you tried steadying your breath as you realized how high up you were; grasping Steve’s hand, you pulled him up alongside you as the wheel you two stood on was slowly pulled into the ship.

With a shaky hand, you reached into your shirt and grabbed Bucky’s dog tags, holding them tight against your scolding skin, even though it was blistering cold in the Alps.

Once inside the lower level of the ship, you and Steve quietly made your way along the metal floors, looking below you as you saw a horrifying sight; bombs with names of major cities written on them, including Chicago and New York.

With a slight gasp, you turned to Steve who looked just as distraught as you were. As his eyes met the New York bomb, footsteps echoed above you, Hydra agents making their ways across the metal landings. With stealth, Steve jumped up, grabbing onto the railing, and kicking an agent over the ledge. Jumping just as high, you landed on the landing and met with the remaining three agents.

With a slight run, you met one agent halfway as he immediately threw a punch your way. You narrowly avoided it, ducking to the side and elbowing him in the face, hearing a nice crunch beneath your elbow. Steve made his way around you, kicking another agent in the chest as he flew backwards. Kicking your opponent over the ledge, you grabbed a knife holstered onto your thigh and threw it at the third and final agent running away, hiding him in the back of the neck; with a grunt, he fell against the side of the landing.

Somehow, Steve’s agent escaped during a quick moment of distraction, climbing on top of the Chicago bomb. Cap ran towards the control panel, pressing the red escape button before the poor guy could even make it inside the capsule, hearing him scream as he fell thousands of feet.

You took a quick breath, “I don’t feel guilty about that…is that bad?”

Steve shrugged, “I – I don’t think so…no, yeah, no, definitely not.”

Less than a second later, two Hydra agents ambushed you and Steve, punching you in the side as you let out a grunt. Avoiding another punch, you grabbed a knife from your thigh and stabbed your opponent in the chest, flipping him over just for good measure. Steve had already disposed of his guy as you kicked yours down towards the opening where Steve’s own guy had just gone down.

You wiped off the blood from your knife on your suit as Steve grimaced, “what, waste a perfectly good knife? Sorry I don’t have a shield, Stevie.”

Steve just shivered, “that’s just…gross, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes, “so overdramatic. C’mon, let’s go.”

Before you could continue on within the ship, however, Steve and you heard someone get into one of the bombs, closing the lid. Steve immediately jumped onto the window, another agent jumping on top of him. Without thinking, you threw your knife at the agent, hitting him in the shoulder as the bomb, along with Steve on it, dropped into the sky.

You screamed, “Steve! No – no!”

Grabbing at your hair, you held back tears as you watched Steve fly around, narrowly avoiding the tiny ship’s propellers. With careful steps, you saw the scene unfold as the agent you had stabbed was shoved into the propellers, blood flowing from the sky; you gagged, “jesus, Steve – that was disgusting.”

Stepping away from the platform, you trusted Steve and continued your way through the ship, trying to find Schmidt. Grabbing Cap’s shield from where it had been discarded before the bomb was dropped, you made your way to the cockpit where you realized it was quiet – too quiet.

At some point, you felt the ship shake and loud bangs filled the air as you hoped it was Steve – back in one piece. Slowly walking down the stairs, the shield protecting you, you quietly walked upon the metal grates of the ship until reaching the pilot’s seat; leaning to the side, you realized Schmidt was no longer there.

“What the –“ Before you could finish, you heard the sounds of a gun preparing to fire, and in a split second, you used the shield to protect yourself from Schmidt’s laser, the shot hitting the window of the ship.

Harsh winds forced itself into the ship, your hair blowing wildly as Schmidt stood before you, “you don’t give up, do you? Where’s Mr. Rogers, little one?”

Just then, Steve decided to make his grand entrance as you glared at Schmidt, “kids from Brooklyn aren’t exactly known for givin’ up, Johann.” With a flick of your arm, you threw the shield to Steve as Schmidt fired, forcing you to jump to the side. Steve caught the shield, blocking another hit from Schmidt’s laser as it hit the window again.

Cap ran towards Schmidt, blocking more hits as he fought with the red-skulled man, avoiding yet also receiving some hits. Once Cap was kicked to the ground, you jumped behind Schmidt, kicking his hind legs and kneeing his lower spine, hearing him grunt in pain in response. Steve stood up, pushing Schmidt against a wall before being slammed to the ground.

You ran towards Johann, arm going around his neck, choking him as he tried grabbing at anything for leverage. With a quick glance to the table lying in the middle of the room, glowing blue, you threw yourself on top of it, pulling Schmidt with you and onto the floor. Steve had then pulled Schmidt up, hitting him with his shield until Schmidt fought back, hitting Cap with his own weapon before Steve headbutted him.

Steve leaned back before he grabbed onto Schmidt’s uniform, throwing him towards the pilot seat, sparks immediately flying through the air. With a yell, you realized the ship was tipped downwards, heading straight towards, what looked like, an icy landscape. Flying to the ceiling alongside Schmidt and Steve, you flew towards Johann, punching him in the stomach as he did you, trying to gain some type of balance.

As the three of you fought in the air, you gave your best kicks and punches, watching Steve be thrown to the side of the ship. In the short time, Schmidt flew over and pulled up the steering stick of the ship, pressing a few buttons as you all three fell to the floor, the ship back to normal altitude.

Landing on the metal grates harshly, you groaned as Steve stood up, pulling you alongside him as he held his shield in front of you both. Schmidt turned towards you, gun in hand as he stumbled down the stairs, “you could have the power of the gods! Both of you!”

Schmidt shot towards you and Steve as you ducked, feeling the heat of the gunfire pass over your head, “yet you wear a flag on your chest, and think you fight a battle of nations!” He kept firing at you, Steve pulling you along as Schmidt continued, “I have seen the future, Captain, little one! There are no flags!”

Another shot fired over your head as Steve analyzed his next steps, yelling back, “not my future!” Leaping forward, Steve rolled and protected himself from another shot from Schmidt as you kneeled by the side, ready to step in.

With a grunt, Steve threw the shield at Johann, forcing him to hit the glowing table, the item inside slowly coming out of its container. You narrowed your eyes, “what the hell is that?” Its bright light captured your attention as Schmidt stood beside it, “what have you done?”

The bright blue box was now outside its container, off to the side from the force of Johann’s body; Schmidt grabbed it, and after a few seconds, bright lights flew around the ship and the universe seemed to open up above him. Your brain could not comprehend what you were seeing – millions of stars and planets littered the space above as Schmidt stood below, arms beside him as he looked up.

Slowly, Schmidt’s body began to deteriorate, his screams of pain echoing throughout the ship, rainbow flashes coloring your vision as both you and Steve looked away. Then, in a split second, the blue cube fell to the ground and Schmidt was gone.

You looked at Cap, “what…what just happened?”

Steve shook his head, leaning down to grab his shield before nodding towards the pilot’s seat, “we gotta figure this out.”

Sitting beside him as co-pilot, you turned on the radio as Steve tried to figure out how exactly to land the aircraft. He looked down at the map, noticing the ship was on its way to New York. Looking at one another, you pressed on the intercom button beside you, “come in! This is y/n l/n, alongside Captain Rogers. Do you read me?”

Right away, someone responded, “Y/N, L/N, what is your –“

Quickly, Peggy interrupted him, “y/n! Is that you? Is Steve with you? Are you both alright?”

You sighed at the sound of Peggy’s voice as Steve smiled, “Peggy! Schmidt’s dead and – and –“

Peggy calmed you down, “what about the plane?”

You looked to Steve for help as he talked for you, “that’s a little bit tougher to explain.” You raised an eyebrow at Steve as you grasped onto Bucky’s dog tags around your neck, trying to help the conversation. Peggy continued, “give me your coordinates, I’ll find you a safe landing site.”

With solemn eyes, you looked at Steve who was trying his best to possibly fix something, anything, “there’s not gonna be a safe landing…but I can try and force it down.”

Peggy stumbled, “I – I’ll get Howard on the line. He’ll know what to do.”

Steve shouted back, “there’s not enough time. This thing’s moving too fast and it’s heading for New York.”

The sky ahead of you looked beautiful. It was orange, mixed with bits of yellow and blue. Your nose had grown quite cold and your hair whipped your face as you still grasped onto the dog tags.

Steve breathed heavily, “I gotta put her in the water.”

You knew this was coming. You just knew it.

Peggy responded, “please, don’t do this. We have time. We can work it out.”

You called out to Peggy, “Peg…we’re in the middle of nowhere. If we wait any longer, a lot of people are going to die.” Steve glanced at you with worry in his eyes; you nodded to him as he continued, “Peggy… this is our choice. We’re okay.”

Steve reached into his pocket, pulling out a compass with a picture of Peg in the middle of it, placing it on one of the meters. With a grunt, Steve pushed the level down, the airship leaning towards the ocean in no time. You looked at Steve, your heart racing as tears raced your cheeks; not in fear, but in sadness.

Sadness that you never got to have your dance with Bucky at your wedding, nor see his smile once again or feel his lips against your own. You wouldn’t get to hear his gravelly voice in the morning right after a good night’s sleep, or get to hold his hand as he pulled you along at fairs. You wouldn’t be able to smell him or feel his hair against your fingertips as he cuddled into your chest. You wouldn’t be able to be with him before you died.

The altitude was dropping fast and Steve continued to look at the picture of Peggy, the sun glaring in his eyes, “Peggy?”

With a whisper, Peggy responded, “I’m here.”

Steve stared at the glaciers that were coming into view, “I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance.”

Your lips quivered as the glaciers came closer and closer to you. Peggy let her tears fall as she whispered back, “all right. A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club. And I expect you there, too, y/n. You hear me?”

You and Steve let out a breath as Steve responded, “you got it.” Steve reached beside himself and grabbed for your hand, holding it tightly. The tears came faster as did the glaciers and the cold water.

Peggy continued, “8 o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late. You two understand?”

You swallowed, tears clouding your vision, “yes ma’am.”

Steve stared at the oncoming landscape, “you know, I still don’t know how to dance.”

Peggy whispered as Steve’s hand gripped yours tight, “I’ll show you how. Just be there.”

Steve had his own tears running down his cheeks as you sobbed quietly, hand gripping his tight, “we’ll have the band play something slow.”

Steve turned back towards you, eyes sad as he saw your cheeks, “I am so sorry, honeybee. I’m so sorry.”

With your remaining hand, you held onto Bucky’s dog tags tightly, alongside Steve’s hand, as he turned back to the radio, “I’d hate to step on your…”

The last thing you saw was your James Barnes standing right in front of you, arms wide as he yelled, “my honeybee! There she is – looking gorgeous as ever, honey.” With a kiss to your lips, it almost felt real as you responded, “hi, Jamie.”

honeybee taglist:

@clownerlyluv @ginger-swag-rapunzel

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anthrobrat · 3 years

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The Great Chocolate Heist of 1945

Merry Christmas!! Hello @papersergeant-pencilsoldier it is I, your Secret Santa!! I am so excited I got to write a little 2nd Platoon BROT4 The Last Patrol extra scene for you. The story is a little weird (and not christmassy at all, sorry) but I do hope you like the friendship and hilarity of these boys!!

TLP BROT4, Rated G, 1500 words

“No patrol tonight, moving off the line tomorrow. Chuck am I dreamin?” Liebgott yells across the room as their leaders exit the room, followed quickly by Web and Jones.

“If you are, we all are.” They all shook hands and clapped each other on the shoulder.

The rapid mood change from anxious and angry to relieved and relaxed was palpable as everyone milled about, congratulating each other on their luck that day, and making plans for finally moving off the line. They all knew better than to get their hopes up, but it was difficult not to with the announcement Major Winters had just made.

Chuck had smiled for the first time since November, and everyone was caught in the good mood, not wanting to ruin it by mentioning that Winters had told them they were moving off the line twice since Foy and neither had panned out. But the Germans were very close to throwing in the towel at that point, so maybe this would be the last time they’d have to worry about falling artillery or snipers.

“So, are they gonna make us look like we’re preparing for this again tonight, or does this mean we get the afternoon off?” Babe asked as he pushed his chair back and cupped his hands around his metal tin of coffee, placing first one then the other leg onto the table.

“Lieb.” McClung walked up from his spot crouched against the wall across the room. “You should ask Web when he gets back. He left after them, I’m sure he’s got a better idea than us. Not like we’ve ever faked a patrol before.” McClung’s deadpan as he sat down at the table made them all laugh.

“You think Winters has either? He’s straighter than an arrow,” Lieb answered, and then snarled as an aside: “Although maybe Dog and Fox have been running fake fucking patrols this whole time. It would certainly explain a lot.”

As more guys filtered out of the basement to find other ways to entertain themselves, the room ended up with just the four of them at the table. Babe, Liebgott, McClung, and Chuck drinking coffee and smoking the Lucky Strikes that Luz had pilfered from somewhere or other.

“Guys, I have an idea,” Babe declared between his third and fourth smoke.

“Ah fuck, Babe, not again.” Chuck tipped his chair back and looked toward the ceiling. Lieb laughed, knowing exactly what disaster Chuck was thinking about.

“Nah, this is a good one,” Babe said, putting his coffee down and lacing his hands behind his head, trying to look confident. “Lieb, you think there’s more Hersheys bars in the stash you pilfered from yesterday?”

“I don’t see why there wouldn’t be, unless fucking Nixon ate them all.” Liebgott didn’t bother denying his transgressions. Anyone with eyes would have seen him the day before enjoying the spoils.

“So here’s what I’m thinkin’. We plan our own patrol tonight.” Babe raised his eyebrows like he had said something so brilliant that the rest of them should bow down or something. He picked up his cup and finished off his coffee, twirling the empty tin mug in the air.

“What are you, Billy the fucking Kid?” Chuck said, making Liebgott laugh while Babe scowled at them both.

McClung chimed back in. “Billy the Kid, huh? I see it, saying you want to sneak into CP to steal fucking chocolate. Just waltz right in?”

“You think it can’t be done?” Babe fired back, cigarette bobbing as he spoke, fingers twisting the mug around like he couldn’t sit still.

“I mean, the man’s got a point, McClung. It’s barely illegal, and we deserve it. Plus, ain’t no sign of Sobel with his ‘army property’ bullshit. I’m in.” Liebgott opened his jacket then, and pulled out a piece of paper with writing on one side. He unfolded it so the blank side was facing up and began to draw a sketch of the CP, with a big X where the chocolate had last been spotted.

“I guess we’re really doing this then,” Chuck sighed, before he let the front legs of his chair touch the ground again and leaned in to look at their amateur blueprints. He pulled the pencil out of Liebgott’s hand, marking up the map and motioning with his middle finger as he explained the plan they’d need to pull this off. “Here’s our perimeter. Babe you’ll be lookout, McClung you’re lead scout. Once you clear the rooms off the foyer, Liebgott and I will come through and--”

“Yea yea, we’ll check the last places chocolate was spotted, and if there even is any left we’ll grab as many as we can carry. I know my job,” Liebgott took the pencil back and tucked it into his ear before lighting another cigarette.

McClung took one more look at the map before folding it up and handing it back to Liebgott.

“So we meet outside OP2 at 2300 hours,” Babe stage whispered, “and if the coast is clear, the heist is on.”

“Babe, we’re stealing chocolate, can you calm down?”

“Chocolate or no fuckin chocolate, Lieb, it’s still a heist. What should we call it? A fucking patrol?” McClung put his hand out to Babe’s chest to calm him down, because who gets worked up over chocolate? On the other hand, it felt like they really didn’t have much else to live for at this stage of the game.

“Relax, Babe, we’re in, alright?”

“Yeah yeah, alright, Chuck. You better be there tonight. I’m counting on your leadership.” Babe winked and laughed, diffusing the sudden tension.

“Heard Lip’s getting his battlefield commission before we get back to base. You think they’ll have him transferred?” Lieb asked no one in particular as they all got up from the table and made their way back out to the street.

“Nah, I bet Winters’ll figure out some way to keep him with us at least until we cross the river,” Chuck said over his shoulder as they made their way back to their billets.

H-hour rolled around quicker than anyone had expected, with Babe the last to arrive from his outpost duty at 23:05.

“Sorry I’m late, I had to ditch Shifty. He got so suspicious I thought I’d have to invite him along.”

“It’s okay,” McClung nodded at him, “I already promised him I’d get him a bar.”

“You told fucking Shifty?” Liebgott yelled toward the sky. “Who else knows? You guys are the worst.”

“First off,” Babe scoffed, “did any of us actually keep our mouths shut?”

Chuck laughed and kicked his boot against the ground, and Liebgott gave them all an angry stare. Footsteps along the road made everyone duck into the adjoining alley.

When the footsteps had moved on, it was time to put their plan into action. Except no one moved.

“We sure it’s in there?” Babe asked, looking up at the darkened windows on the first floor.

“Fucking positive, Babe. Unless Shifty beat us to it, since people can’t keep their fucking traps shut.” McClung shrugged at Liebgott’s jab in the darkness, and Lieb pulled his map out once more and shined the flashlight on it. “Ok, if we go in this back door it’ll be about 50 yards in on the left.”

“I’d say it’s more like 75,” Chuck chimed in, trying and failing to keep the humor out of his voice.

“I just wanted a fucking bar of chocolate,” Babe interjected. “Lieb didn’t share any of his, and I promised Gene. I owe him a chocolate bar.”

“You told—“ Liebgott began to yell before he reined himself in, spun around, leveled a glare. “You told the Doc?”

Babe was about to reply when Chuck stepped between them.

“Where the fuck did McClung go?”

“He was just here, I don’t fucking know. You didn’t see him?” Lieb asked.

“Well I certainly didn’t see him, I was looking at your map.”

Just as their voices began to raise, the door banged open and out stepped their missing brother in arms.

“It seemed like that argument might take a while, so I went ahead and grabbed the chocolate.” McClung handed two bars each to his open mouthed comrades, who pocketed them silently.

“Well,” Babe stuttered at last, “I suppose that was a pretty successful heist.”

“No thanks to you.” Liebgott punched him to emphasize his point.

“Or you,” McClung said around a mouthful of chocolate. “Anyway I gotta go bring this to Shifty, I’ll see you fellas later.”

At that, McClung meandered off back down the alley, contraband chocolate in hand. Babe scratched his head, shrugged his shoulders, and ran to catch up. Chuck and Joe followed quickly behind, still laughing at the confusion on Babe’s face.

“You think Gene will like my present? It’s not quite the Belgian chocolate that he gave me, but I still wanted to give him something.”

“Babe. It’s chocolate. He’ll like it.” Liebgott slugged him in the shoulder. “But you’re a sucker for giving up your second bar of chocolate.”

“Hey Chuck! You hear that! He says I’m a sucker! We’ll see who’s the sucker when I get stitched up before him.”

They all rolled their eyes, but Babe knew he was right. He also knew every one of them was going to end up splitting their chocolate with someone. He was just smart because he picked the medic.

#hbo war secret santa #hbo war secret santa 2020 #preseennttsss #merry christmas lovey #band of brothers fic #my fic #brotp #the last patrol #joseph liebgott #chuck grant #babe heffron #Earl McClung #my emotional support brot4

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 4 years

Text

Number One Fan

Steve Rogers x Reader

a/n: a commission for @crystalizedcaramel that I did a while ago and forgot to post, cause Im literally the worse.

Summary: Rule one of doing drunk karaoke - don’t let Nat record you.

There is a pounding going on in your head, a massive hangover that is most definitely a punishment for how much you drank the previous night. Stretching, you lift the blanket off your face and stare up at the ceiling, taking in deep breaths to wake your body up. It doesn’t help because you can feel a turning in your stomach, you burp, and it tastes like beer and hot wings. The girls and you had gone out for a night of winding down after several back to back missions, Steve and the fellas decided to stay behind to order pizza and watch some fight on pay per view. It was a wild night, not that you can remember, but the pounding headache is a clue as to how much fun you had.

Your stomach grumbles again and you fly out of bed, rushing to your bathroom, barely lifting the toilet seat in time – yea, you had a good night all right. After vomiting for nearly a full two minutes, you start a hot shower and begin to wash away last night’s sins – well the word sin is a bit dramatic, nothing sinful about letting loose with your friends. Now what was sinful is your lust for a certain leader of the Avengers with his nice hard rock biceps and crushing blue eyes, assertiveness in his voice but also the kindness when he puts down the shield and is just Steve Rogers.

Apparently, it is obvious, your crush on him, to everyone on the team but Steve himself. Natasha says it is the way you look at him, the fondness in your eyes even when he’s just talking about the morning news. She says it is sweet and that you should take the chance to tell the man how you feel but why do that? You value Steve’s friendship, he is the one you go to for nearly everything and can spend hours just talking. Sometimes he talks about his life before the crash, other times he comes to you for modern education – which really means you updating him on music and pop culture.

It is always nice and fun, and sometimes you notice this soft look on his face when he is speaking to you – one that you have yet to see him give to someone else and it makes you feel special. He makes you feel special and if you tell him how you feel, what if that all goes away?

That is what holds you back.

Getting out of the shower, you dry up and walk back into the room to get change. Twenty minutes later, you are cruising the halls to the kitchen for some coffee and breakfast. The smell of bacon and eggs welcomes you as you step into the kitchen; Sam and Natasha are at the helm of the stove, one at each burner. They look up in your direction at the same time and Sam laughs noting that you look like hell.

“I feel it too,” you say, taking a seat at the kitchen island. Looking to Nat you ask her if she’s hungover too. “You look unscathed.”

She shrugs. “I didn’t drink as much as you, in fact, no one at the entire bar drank as much as you.”

“How drunk was she?”

Rolling your eyes at Sam, you glance at Natasha innocently. “…yeah, how drunk was I?”

She grins but there is something off and a sinking feeling comes over you. She nudges Sam, calling out to FRIDAY. “Can you play the video I sent to Sam earlier?”

The A.I says of course, and you turn to the holo-screen above the kitchen table, it’s you on a small stage and suddenly it all comes back like a way – drunk karaoke.

Wanda, Maria, Nat and you are drinking, except you go overboard because you are heavily in your own feelings. People are singing and you down a shot before signing up for a turn, the girls cheer you on and Nat starts to record when you get on stage.

“Hey everybody!” Your words are slurry, but your stance is stable as you speak into the mic. “Soo…I wanna come up and sing for you guys -has, has anyone ever been in love?”

The crowd hoots and hollers.

“Yeah, so there’s this guy named Steve and I’m just completely in love with him but – but I’m a big chicken shit,” you laugh and shrug, nodding to the DJ to start the song. “This one’s for Steve.”

Everyone claps and shouts as you hold onto the standing mic; guitar chords play, and you smile. “Hold me close and tell me how you feel – tell me love is real…”

Your voice is lovely, always has been and you wish Steve was here to listen – he has never heard you sing and maybe if he did, he would fall in love with you. It was silly to think about but as you continue to sing the song, you close your eyes and think of him. Think of his beautiful face, boyish smile and his warm heart – how good it would feel to have him touch you.

“Words of love you whisper soft and true, darling, I love you.”

Natasha shouts your name and your eyes open; you smile. “Let me hear you say the words I long to hear, darling, when you’re near. Words of love you whisper soft and true – Steve, I love you…”a

The song ends and everyone applauds, a few whistles ring over the noise and the alcohol you have been consuming, fills you with warmth.

The video ends and you feel embarrassed but Sam whistles. “Damn, you got some pipes on you.”

You turn to Nat and Sam, frowning. “There is video evidence of me proclaiming my love for Steve through a song, and all you can say is I have a nice voice.”

He shrugs as he plates breakfast. “Yeah.”

“Well, thank you,” you mutter with a sigh. “I’m just glad you guys stayed in, the last thing I need is Steve seeing that performance.”

“Would that be such a terrible thing?” Natasha asks and you say yes, it would be a bad thing because Steve sees you as a friend. Her face perks up and she calls on FRIDAY. “Play the video for Steve, please. He’s in the gym.”

Your eyes wide in fear as you jump from the seat. “What the fuck, Nat!”

Sam laughs as you race out of the kitchen, shouting for FRIDAY to turn off the video. Not knowing if she is listening, you hurry to the gym apologizing to Wanda, who you bump into on the way. You are breathless as you turn the corner to the gym, but someone collides into you – a hard body and you shout in surprise.

“Shit!”

“Sorry,” Steve chuckles, holding onto your shoulders. He’s gorgeous, smiling as asks if you are okay.

“Not really. Did you – did you see the video?”

He smiles wide and nods. “I did.”

“Welp, I’m going to…” slowly you attempt to turn away, but Steve pulls you back, letting his hands fall onto your waist. Your heart is racing as he touches the side of your face and all you can do is whisper his name. “Steve, I…”

“I never wanted to say anything, didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” he explains, moving his body closer to yours. His hands feel warm against your cheek, it is everything you imagine. “I was willing to hold back my feelings if it meant I could keep you in my life but then I saw that video. You were really drunk.”

You laugh, nodding your head. “I was but I meant it all.”

Steve sighs in relief and moves his head closer to yours. He whispers, “Good, because you have to know, I love you too.”

Smiling, you close your eyes as his lips touch yours, and suddenly getting piss drunk and proclaiming your love for Steve through song in front of complete strangers was the greatest decision of your life. Of course, Natasha is going to get hers – showing Steve an embarrassing video of you but for now, as his lips move against yours, it’s all good.

His arms slip around your waist before breaking the kiss; he leans his forehead against yours and grins. “Why didn’t you tell me you had such an amazing singing voice?”

Laughing, you shrug and place both hands on his shoulder. “Come to karaoke next time so I won’t have to imagine you there.”

Steve blushes, but leans forward and kisses you on the forehead. “I’ll be your number one fan.”

Biting down on your lip, you struggle to contain the happiness you feel knowing your life has changed for the better – the man you love, loves you back.

Sighing with contentment, you look at Steve and beam. “And I’ll be yours.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #captain america #steve rogers #marvel #marvel imagine #ivonnes imagine

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vannahfanfics · 3 years

Text

Before you read, here’s the previous chapter.

Crimson Butterflies

Ao3

Chapter 1: Falling Under Hard Times

Touya took a long drag of his cigarette, enjoying the flood of smoke into his mouth and nose and the stimulating nicotine within. His cyan eyes were lidded as he half-basked in the darkness of the alleyway, yet despite his apparent loitering, his gaze was keenly fixated on the man waxing the hood of his sleek cobalt blue Porsche across the street. The man had some gall, preening in his five-hundred-dollar leather jacket and designer skinny jeans in this part of town; he was obviously just looking for a quick fuck, as he increased his efforts every time a woman walked by. He’d sidle around the edge of the car, making a show of flexing his muscles as he swept the wax-coated rag over the smooth blue, shining surface of his sports car. He’d then flash a wink and a dazzling smile, making the demure girls giggle and prance away in their heels. Touya wasn’t sure how many girls he intended to hustle this evening, considering he’d netted ten phone numbers in the hour that Touya had been watching him from the gloom.

Just go in the bar and get to schmoozin’ some bimbo, already, Touya grumped, leaning against the cold, grime-coated alleyway wall with a scowl. I’m tired of watchin’ you cast your net for gold diggers. Though, Touya supposed that he wasn’t much better than those gold diggers, considering he was spying on the man with the intent to steal the Porsche he’s pretended to clean for the last hour. The sun was sinking below the cityline, catching on the rigid corners of the skyscrapers to scatter the beams and send bright yellow rays of light spearing in all directions. The day was ending and night was beginning, and soon, beasts like Touya would come out to prowl. This really was no place for a big-headed moron like that to be flaunting his car, but then again, that’s what allowed Touya to conduct business.

A street urchin had to eat, and it was gonna be good pickings when a Porsche was involved.

After five more minutes, it was clear to Touya that the man had no intentions of retreating into the bar until the sun had completely withdrawn from the sky. Touya’s gaze began to wander, exploring the different shops crammed into the plots lining the cracked tar and disjointed sidewalk of the boulevard. His cerulean eyes landed on the flickering static of an older, box-style television perched on a wooden box in the display case of an electronics store. Electronics always sell well, Touya thought, pushing himself away from the wall.

He barely glanced left and right before stepping off the sidewalk to saunter across the street. The man glanced in his direction, doing a double-take when he noticed the dark blue-purple scars and staples holding his skin together. Touya was quite used to the stares and surprised looks, but that didn’t stop him from flipping the pretentious bastard the bird. The man flushed and busied himself with fake-shining his Porsche. At least he had some common sense, but that wouldn’t help when Touya decided to nab his precious car.

A little bell twinkled weakly to signal Touya’s arrival into the electronics store. A ceiling fan circled slowly above his head, accented by the floor fan noisily spilling air towards the front counter. A man drinking Scotch grunted at Touya, not even bothering to look up from the pornogrpahic magazine he was flipping through. Touya almost felt bad slipping his hand inside his coat pocket to reach for his pistol, because he had to respect the sheer energy exuding from this old dude.

“I ain’t got nothin’ for ya ta take, youngun,” the man huffed as Touya approached the counter. It made him smirk; this clearly wasn’t the old-timer’s first rodeo. “If yer just killin’ time until that prick abandons his Porsche next door, I would appreciate if ya just left a fella alone. I got a granddaughter to feed, and not enough money to put food on the table with you upstarts struttin’ in here every week stickin’ me up.”

Touya slid his hand free of his pistol to lean up against the counter and lean his cheek in his hand. A street urchin had to have respect for a fellow man fallen under hard times. The old man’s gaze flickered up from his magazine finally, but when he realized that Touya wasn’t pointing a gun at him, he resumed ogling at the nude woman draped across the hood of a car in a very provocative and revealing pose.

“Does your granddaughter know you’re spending money on porn mags instead of food?”

“Tch. I nicked this from her good-for-nothin’ daddy’s stash,” the old man countered. He grabbed the plastic water bottle beside him, half-filled with the dark brown slosh of tobacco dip, and loudly spit into it. He snorted very unnattractively before giving Touya a tired look. “Does your momma know yer out here robbin’ poor old men blind?”

“You’re mistaken, old man. I’m just out here robbing rich stuck-up folks blind,” Touya smirked. The old man nodded appreciatively before looking back to his magazine. “Ain’t got a momma, anyway. At least, not one that cares.” Frowning, Touya picked at the fraying lining of the counter while the old man snorted with an understanding nod. After basking in comfortable silence with the old-timer, just listening to the flip of the plasticy magazine pages and the rumbling of the old fan, Touya looked outside to see that the Porsche was finally abandoned.

“Don’t get yerself caught,” the old man said without looking up when Touya sauntered back toward the front door.

“Don’t rat me out,” Touya countered, turning around with a smirk to walk backwards out the door. The little bell chimed farewell as he spun on his heel, a bounce in his step as he approached the Porsche. It really was a sexy car, shining oceanic blue as the fading sunlight played over its surface. Touya didn’t even spare a glance around to see if he was being watched as he strutted up to the driver’s side and tried the door handle. Unbelievable, he thought incredulously as it unlatched without resistance and pulled open. What a smug bastard.

Touya half-expected for the keys to fall out when he pulled down the sun blinder, but apparently the man wasn’t that foolish. Just as he was preparing to crawl into the car to start digging into its electrical innards, he heard a pained whimper.

Eyes narrowed, he looked over the roof of the car in the direction he thought the noise had come from. An alley loomed before him, shrouded in darkness as the sun continued to sink lower and lower. He wondered if he’d imagined it until he heard it again— a high-pitched whine, this time followed by an agonized moan. Curious, he closed the door to the Porsche and slowly walked around the front of the car, angling his head to try and peer into the shadows. He could seek a wobbly, shadowy blob in the gloom, slumped beside a dull gray trash can.

“Hello?” he called, stepping into the entrance of the alley. His shadow stretched across the dirt-coated cobblestone, long and ominous; it made the strange figure flinch and curl into a ball, another whimper echoing in the dark. Touya debated just letting it alone until he caught the sight of bright red smears on the ground. “Are you hurt?” he asked, looking back up at the strange, trembling figure. Slowly, he walked forward, holding out his friends to maintain a non-threatening posture. “I know I look like a monster, but I ain’t gonna hurt ya,” he joked. “If you’re injured, I can help ya.”

The shadow wobbled beside the trash can, debating; it didn’t flee as Touya crept closer. He stepped aside, allowing the light to fall over the stranger. The last beams of the sunlight spilled in now that it was unobstructed, illuminating a girl huddled beside the trash can, her expression pained as she pressed her hand into her left side. Touya could see crimson blood oozing through her fingers and staining her white form-fitting dress. Her black stockings were scuffed and torn in several places, like she’d fallen several times, and she was missing one of her boots. Her wild blond hair was crimped and tangled with dirt, twigs, and leaves, and her face was a bruised and bloody mess. She’d clearly suffered a beating.

Touya wasn’t sure he wanted to get involved in that. Whoever beat this girl to a pulp was probably nearby, and if this was a lover’s quarrel, that was the police’s business, not his. His ticket to at least a month of high living was parked just a few yards away; if he bothered with this girl, he certainly wouldn’t be able to make off with the Porsche and go sell it to his auto dealer. As if she could see his interest waning, the girl reached out to clutch at the tattered end of his coat.

“Please,” she begged hoarsely. “Please don’t leave me…”

Well, damn, he thought, his mouth twitching down into a frown. Sure, he was a piece of shit, but he wasn’t heartless; how could he refuse her, when she was bleeding out and pleading so pathetically? Her eyelashes fluttered as she let out another small groan, body swaying as she struggled to stay conscious. She lost the strength to continue to tug at the hem of his jacket, but as her hand slipped away, Touya quickly leaned down to gently grasp her hand. He ran the pad of his thumb over the scrapes and bruises over the top of her hand while he crouched down, looking the tired girl square in her hazy eyes.

“Don’t worry. I won’t leave you,” he promised quietly. Her eyes flooded with tears and then rolled down her cheeks, mixing with the blood and dirt staining her face. They then fluttered shut as the relief overwhelmed her, finally sending her into unconsciousness. Touya caught her when she slumped against him. “Jeez… What have you gotten me into?” he sighed with a wan smile and nestled her head into his shoulder; her labored breaths puffed against his scarred neck, but no answer. As gently as he could, he bundled her small body into his arms and stood. She whimpered, her fingers clawing into his shirt and blood staining the material. She snuggled into him, seeking his warmth and comfort, and Touya couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“Clingy, aren’tcha?” he chuckled, adjusting her to make her fit more comfortably against him. He turned to look longingly at the Porsche. The owner had procured some company; the girl giggled and touched his arm seductively as she sat in the passenger seat, making sure to spread her legs just enough to give him a peek of the show to come. The man wasted no time in rushing to the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life and the tail lights flashed crimson in the gloom, the beams refracting like the wings of red butterflies as he zoomed off with what could have been Touya’s prize.

Touya looked down at the unconscious girl sleeping fitfully in his arms. Would his consolation prize turn out to be better than the original, or was he getting himself into something far more troublesome than he imagined? He supposed he’d just have to find out. He turned on his heel to melt into the shadows, leaving the city streets he knew too well behind him.

Enjoy this story? Here’s the next chapter! Please consider perusing my Table of Contents.

#dabi #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #moe kamiji #kamiji moe #burnin x dabi #dabi x burnin #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha

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atsixesandcevans · 5 years

Text

the fire it ignites

Summary: God, Steve hated you. And he tended to not say he hated someone. He was a firm believer that every person has both good and bad within them, so usually he’d say that he strongly disliked a person.

But you? Oh, he hated you.

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader

Word Count: 6.6k (whew)

Warnings: angst, language, some poorly written violence, Steve being kind of an asshole

A/N: This was written for @sherrybaby14‘s Fall Into You challenge, and my prompt was “I hated you before I even met you,” which I have put in bold. I played around with a few different concepts before settling on this one, and I’ve not really written anything like this before actually really enjoyed writing it, even if i am a teensy bit late posting!

It’s like 2:30am and I literally just finished this so I apologise for any mistakes.

I’m considering writing a sequel to this, so let me know what you think!

Read on AO3

God, Steve hated you. And he tended to not say he hated someone. He was a firm believer that every person has both good and bad within them, so usually he’d say that he strongly disliked a person. If that dislike went deep enough that he used the word hate… well, then you must be the worst of the worst. He’d hated Nazis, obviously, and Hydra, but he found that despite how much he disliked him, Steve just couldn’t bring himself to say that he hated that jackass Hodge from his time in New Jersey.

But you? Oh, he hated you.

He hated the way you strode through the compound that first day – in black heeled boots, leather jacket, dark sunglasses and deep red lipstick – chewing on bubblegum, hair almost arrogantly flipped over your shoulder… Steve knew you were trouble right from the get-go.

Your reputation had preceded you, meaning that Steve – like most of the other Avengers, most likely – knew exactly who you were the minute you had waltzed through the doors of the conference room, no introduction necessary. He’d hated the way you pulled your sunglasses off, hanging them off the deep neckline of your tshirt, blowing a bubble between your perfectly painted lips, greeting them with a cheerfully nonchalant “sup, fellas?”, taking a seat in the rolling chair at the end of the table. He hated the way you kicked your feet up on the edge of the table, one ankle resting across the other, popping another bubble.

From where he stood at the other end of the table, preparing to begin briefing for the next mission, Steve glanced around the room at the others in an attempt to gauge their reactions to the unexpected intrusion.

Tony, unsurprisingly, had his lips pursed in a badly-suppressed smile, a mischievous glint in his eye that Steve knew could only mean trouble. Nat was smirking, arms crossed, and Wanda was suitably baffled by you, though Steve could see the underlying admiration in her gaze. Perhaps it was your confidence, god knows Wanda had struggled with that for some time.

Clint looked bored, as usual, but the way he straightened just a little in his seat alerted Steve to intrigue he was feeling. Sam wore a smirk, one eyebrow raised, eyes moving steadily over your reclined form. You met his gaze and winked in return, before your eyes slid over to Steve.

He was visibly tense, arms crossed defensively across his toned chest, biceps straining against the frankly sinfully tight gym shirt, brows knitted together in a disapproving frown. You revelled in his obvious discomfort, nodding almost tauntingly at him, satisfied smirk on your lips as you drawled, “captain.”

Tony stood, the single clap of his hands breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the room. “Okay, guys, this is Y/N, the newest member of the team. Y/N, you already know everyone’s names, I presume?”

Your eyes flicked between each face staring back at you, before they landed back on Steve. “You bet I do,” voice smooth as honey, eyes raking over Steve’s body, relishing in the way he seemed to somehow tense even further, the slightest blush turning his cheeks and the tips of his ears pink. You wondered how on earth one man was allowed to be so breathtakingly hot, and incredibly cute at the exact same time.

Steve looked in the direction of Tony, who was actively avoiding his gaze. “Tony.” It took nearly everything in him to keep his voice level and calm, reasoning that there had to be a logical explanation to this, preferably one that didn’t involve Tony keeping things from him – from them – again. “Care to explain?”

Tony sighed, and Steve didn’t miss the look of guilt that passed over his face. No such luck, then.

“I swear, it wasn’t me this time,” he paused, appearing to internally deliberate something in his mind. “Although, I can see why you would think that, not to mention I did keep this information from you, BUT…” he interjected quickly, already anticipating the inevitable lecture from Steve, who had already opened his mouth to start. “It was under Fury’s orders,” he finished with a shrug, his face an expression of ‘what can you do?’

Taking a deep breath, Steve rubbed the bridge of his nose, a headache already manifesting. “Why would Fury want you to keep this from me?”

Tony’s expression morphed into one of forced nonchalance, muttering “something… about… you probably not agreeing with his decision…” he lifted one shoulder in a shrug, scratching at his beard, eyes everywhere except Steve. “Or something.”

Steve heaved an exasperated sigh and looked to the ceiling, muttering “goddammit, Fury.” He returned his gaze to Tony, who was sat back down in his seat, the same look of feigned innocence on his face. “Regardless of whether he kept it from me or not, why would Fury recruit someone else?”

Several others around the table started talking, some agreeing with Steve, others chiming in with their own theories of why you were there. The volume in the room quickly rose, until no singular voice could be discerned from the others.

You just sat there, watching the scene unfold before you, still chewing absent-mindedly with a small, satisfied smile on your face. The sharp snap of your bubblegum brought their attention back to you, voices dropping as you smiled ruefully. “Can I say something?” you didn’t wait for a response, lifting your legs down from the table. You folded your arms and rested your elbows against the edge of the table, continuing, “Fury recruited me because you need me.” Steve narrowed his eyes at the way your smile morphed into one that oozed cockiness. “And I’ve got nothin’ else going on right now, so here I am.”

Steve tried his best to keep his anger under control. He didn’t like your attitude and he certainly didn’t care for how… vulnerable he felt under your gaze, like you could see right into his very soul. It had been a long time since he’d felt this small when a woman looked at him, and he couldn’t say he enjoyed that particular trip down memory lane.

He sighed, heavy and defeated, before moving towards the door, actively not looking at you. “We’ll pick this up again later. I’m going to talk to Fury.” The room was silent as the door swung shut behind him and Tony, who was hurrying after him.

You broke the silence with an eyebrow raised. “So. What now?”

---

Some time later, you found yourself sat amongst the Avengers – minus Steve and Tony, who you presumed were arguing with Fury about your presence – in the common room, feeling more relaxed than you had in a long time.

It was difficult to come by a feeling of calm, especially as a mercenary. You were almost always trailing one person or another, occasionally even two or three at a time. Then there was the actual kill, and while each and every one gave you a thrill, it was often difficult to keep it clean. Bad guys don’t tend to go down without a fight, unfortunately.

Your job really took it out of you, but every now and then some big crime boss would get wind of your identity and you’d have to lay low for a while, moving from shitty apartment to shitty apartment trying to remain hidden.

It was during one of these periods that Fury had found you, cornered you on your way home from the supermarket a few blocks from your apartment in Crown Heights. He’d made you an offer you couldn’t refuse; a steady paycheck, a place to live, guaranteed protection from the laundry list of enemies you had made over the years. The paperwork was finalised, and you took your motorbike and single duffel bag of belongings up to the Avengers Compound, plastering on your hard demeaner, despite the anxiety that threatened to break through the surface.

It helped that you knew – at least recognised – all of the faces sitting around the table in the conference room, made it less daunting to place yourself in front of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes or whatever.

What you hadn’t expected was such a cold reception from the Captain. It’s not like you had expected to be immediately welcomed with open arms, you knew very well what your reputation was like, and even those who didn’t know your alias probably wouldn’t be immediately open to a random person joining the tight-knit team out of the blue. But to be met with such obvious distaste from a man you had thought would at least give you a chance, a man whom you had admired from afar for years… it stung, no matter how much you told yourself it didn’t.

The only saving grace, you supposed, was that the rest of the team had been more welcoming. Nat approached you quickly after Steve left the conference room, having encountered you a few times over the years, understanding the work you did taking out bad guys. She understood the need to use any means necessary to eliminate a target, even if it meant working outside of the law.

She’d nodded her head towards the door, saying “come on, I’ll show you around,” with a closed-lipped smile on her face, putting you at ease with her relaxed posture and easy smile. She gave you a quick tour, stopping at an empty bedroom across from hers in the private quarters section of the compound, finishing with the common area, where the others were seated and talking absently, reading and playing games. Conversation dipped in volume when you entered, but Natasha didn’t pay the change any attention, instead announcing “guys, this is Y/N.” Some muttered yeah we know her name already’s bubbled up, but went ignored by Nat who continued, “also known as Blade.” This seemed to resonate with them, silencing their confusion.

“You’re Blade?” Sam asked, incredulous. “The merc who single-handedly took out an entire crime network with nothing but a handful of throwing knives?”

You slipped back into your façade, arms crossed, a smirk forming on your face. “The one and only.”

That seemed to be the perfect ice breaker, because the others began to chime in with their own questions about you, your missions, your hidden identity, among other things, conversation remaining light. Wanda looked a little uneasy still, but you knew from what Nat had told you about her that she found it difficult to trust people, and was one of the newer members of the team, still trying to find her place among them. You couldn’t exactly blame her for that, so you just tried to not flat-out exclude her from conversation, and hope that at some stage the two of you could become friends.

Even from your limited time with them, you could tell how close everyone was. Jokes and light-hearted insults were thrown around and you wondered if this was the place you’d finally be able to call home.

---

Steve made the walk back from Fury’s office to the living quarters, silently massaging the tension between his eyes that had grown exponentially in the last hour or so.

When he arrived at Fury’s office, Tony trailing somewhere behind him, Steve had been greeted by name with a deep voice before Fury had even turned from his chair facing the window. He’d been expecting him, apparently. He’d spent the next forty minutes arguing why it was a bad idea to have an actual criminal on the team, especially without having passed any kind of test and with an attitude as arrogant as yours.

Fury, of course, was having none of it, countering all of his arguments infuriatingly quickly, leaving Steve no space to disagree with him. Which he might have done, in different circumstances, but was definitely not doing in this one. Not when it was you.

He’d felt a tiny pang of guilt at this thought, with he quickly pushed away, reminding himself how dangerous and unpredictable you were, not to mention the extreme cockiness you had exuded.

In the end, Fury had dismissed him with a finality in his voice as he said “she’s on the team, cap, whether you like it or not.”

And so, Steve made his way back towards his room to grab a towel before heading to the gym to work off some of his frustration, stopping at the kitchen to fill his water bottle.

As he approached the common area, however, he was greeted with rich laughter and bright voices, one of which he recognised to be yours. He rounded the corner, spotting his friends – and you – relaxed into the plush red couches that were grouped around the television, with smiles on faces as what sounded like stories of times before were passed around. Steve ignored the voices, making a beeline for the sink, hoping to go unnoticed.

Of course, he wasn’t that lucky.

He was halfway back to the door when he heard his name being called, and he turned reluctantly to Sam, who was animatedly inviting Steve to join them, knowing he had plenty of funny stories from his youth that usually he’d be perfectly willing to share. This time, though, he only muttered something about heading to the gym, eyes meeting yours for the briefest of moments before he turned and left, taut back muscles visibly straining against the material of his tshirt.

Your eyes followed him out, jaw tensing silently for just a second as Nat nudged you with her shoulder. “Sorry about him, I don’t know what’s up with him at the moment.”

You shrugged. “It’s whatever.” Your well-practiced nonchalance shining through once again. “I don’t need his approval, he’s not the one who recruited me.”

Conversation soon returned to as it was, though the topic did eventually shift to more casual things. And yet, you still couldn’t shake the slight ache in your chest at the captain’s disapproval.

---

You found your place in the team surprisingly quickly. The first few weeks were pretty uneventful, mostly consisting of being caught up with the current ongoing missions, as well as training; while you were a seasoned professional with your knives, Nat insisted that it was important to know how to take someone down hand-to-hand, as well as fire a gun, so that you were prepared in the event that you didn’t have access to your knives.

You regularly joined the team in the common room for meals and down time, though occasionally you retreated to your room for some peace and quiet.

You didn’t see much of Steve in those first weeks. He did join you and the others in the common room some nights, though only when he didn’t have an excuse not to, or when the team griped at him about not seeing him recently.

The knowledge that he didn’t want to be there, because you were, was more difficult to deal with than you had anticipated. As much as you insisted you didn’t, you longed for his approval, his own actions having been your original inspiration to want to do good in the world. The life you had built for yourself wasn’t exactly what you had planned, but things happen and sometimes you have to roll with the punches. It just happened that life had punched you square in the face more times than was your fair share.

It wasn’t that Steve was cruel towards you, per se, it was more of the fact that he was just indifferent. He didn’t care enough about you to be mean to you, treating you like his subordinate – which, in all fairness, you were – and nothing more. There was a palpable tension whenever he was in the same room with you, and he never allowed himself to be near you if the others weren’t too. He hadn’t assigned you any missions since you arrived, and whenever he was questioned about it, he’d simply say that you needed more training, or that your skillset wasn’t what was needed this time.

You weren’t the only one who noticed his behaviour. Natasha, being the class-A spy that she was, cottoned on pretty quickly and cornered him in the conference room after a meeting, once everyone else had left.

“What is your problem?” she spoke in a harsh whisper.

Steve sighed, feigning impassivity, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” and busied his hands with clearing up the files on the table, refusing to meet her eyes.

“Cut the crap, Rogers. I’m talking about your problem with Y/N. Why have you been acting so cold towards her, not letting her go on missions?”

Steve knew full well that he couldn’t bullshit her any longer. “I don’t trust her.”

“I know there’s more to it than that. This goes beyond not trusting someone. Now, I’m going to ask you again: what is your problem with her?”

He rolled his eyes, hating her ability to see right through people. “I don’t like her attitude. She’s cocky and blasé and its going to get her and us into trouble.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh. “She’s that way because she has to be. Do you think anyone would take her seriously if she wasn’t? Would you?” Steve remained silent, knowing that she was right, as usual. Her voice softened a little. “All I ask is that you give her a chance. Her attitude aside, has she given you any reason to think she’s not good enough?” They were both silent for a few moments, before Nat patted his arm twice and turned for the door, leaving Steve alone with his conflicting thoughts.

---

You weren’t sure exactly what changed, but you were glad for it.

Steve was less hostile, though he was still never alone with you. He actually looked at you when he spoke to the team, and each time he did, your heart beat just a little bit faster. Finally, finally, he allowed you on a mission, just basic recon, but it was a mission nonetheless. When you came back with Nat and Clint, successful, he had sent you on a couple more, and you didn’t even care about it being lacking on the action side of things, you were just happy to be a useful member of the team.

Eventually, you were needed on an actual mission.

There’d been a tip, a possible HYDRA base somewhere near Minsk, and everyone was needed. Take out the bad guys, get information if possible. It was nothing anyone hadn’t done before.

You threw yourself into the preparations, slipping into the tac suit Tony had made for you, adorned with both visible and hidden sheaths for knives, big and small, as well as a tactical belt and gun holster.

Nat had landed the jet far enough away from the base that they wouldn’t be alerted it its presence, before the team approached on foot. You’d all stormed the building, easily taking out the first agents that tried to fight back.

Then everything went sideways.

There were too many of them, that much became apparent pretty quickly. Everyone had been assigned an area of the building to clear, splitting up once you were past the initial defences.

You fought your way towards your designated room, towards the back of the building on a side where recon told you would be fairly quiet. The fighter in you was disappointed that everyone else seemed to get more of the action, but conceded that, as it was your first real mission with the team, you should use this opportunity to see how everyone works together.

As it turned out, there were a lot more men to take down than any of you thought. When it became clear that the team wasn’t going to win this one, Steve gave the order to retreat, shouting over the sound of gunfire and metal clashing.

Where you were, there were only a few left, and you caught a glimpse of a door behind them that you could’ve sworn wasn’t on the blueprints of the building everyone had studied before the mission. You powered through and, with one last burst of energy, delivered one kick and punch after another, the last agent finally falling into a heap on the floor.

Breathing heavily, you approached the door, fully aware that you were disobeying orders. But, surely Steve and the others would appreciate the intel about what was behind that door?

Steve’s voice came through your earpiece, quieter now that he didn’t have to shout, but no less demanding. The sound of fighting had stopped too, he must have gotten back to the jet already.

“Y/N? Where are you, why aren’t you at the jet?”

“There’s a door that wasn’t on the blueprints. I’m going to see what’s behind it.”

“No, I told you, get back to the jet. The mission’s over.”

“It wasn’t on the blueprints, Steve, they must be hiding something. I have to find out what.”

“No.” He was angry now, that’s for sure. “It’s too risky. Get back to the jet.” Every word was measured, laced with authority and barely-contained rage.

You considered your options. Realistically, you knew he was right. There was no way to know what could be behind that door. But, you were already in trouble. Might as well get something to show for it.

“No, Steve, I’m going in.” You heard his exasperated sigh and muttered curse and knew you were in for it once you got back to the compound. You heard footsteps behind you, and you drew your gun, turning towards the sound, only to be faced with a smirking Natasha, though she looked a little disgruntled too. She clearly wanted you to know she was there, you knew full well that she could be completely silent when she wanted to. You relaxed a little, lowering the gun, though not returning it to its holster. “I’m still going in, Nat.”

She gave a side-nod of understanding. “Yeah, I figured. Just hurry up or else Steve’ll kick my ass as well as yours.”

You gave a humourless laugh and approached the door once again, Nat close beside you. It surprised as well as concerned you that the door wasn’t locked. You and Nat shared a look before pushing the door open wider, guns raised.

You’d barely taken three steps into the dark room when suddenly you were both blown backwards a good six feet, heat engulfing you.

You hit the ground hard, landing awkwardly on your wrist in an attempt to break your fall. But your momentum forced your head back, smacking onto the concrete floor, and everything went black.

---

The first thing you noticed when you came to was the pain radiating through the back of your skull. A constant, throbbing kind of pain where you just know there’ll be a bump there.

Faint voices, almost hushed, distant. You try to focus on them, who it is, what they’re saying, but your mind is fuzzy with both the undoubted concussion you had, as well as whatever cocktail of pain medication they had pumped through you.

Peeking through your closed eyelids, you battled against the harsh light of what you presumed was the med bay. A quick glance around the room confirmed your assumption, your eyes landing on Natasha, sat in one of those horrible plasticky chairs. She smirked at you when your eyes met, one eyebrow raised.

“Morning, sleepy head.” You groaned in response, her soft voice still somehow too harsh for your head. “How are you feeling?”

“Can’t say it’s the best I’ve ever felt.” A small chuckle slipped from Nat at that. “How long have I been out?”

“Only a couple hours since we got back, so six hours or so including the ride on the jet.”

You nodded a little, at least you hadn’t been out for days. You closed you eyes against the harsh light for a second, then suddenly remembered exactly what had happened, quickly turning to face Natasha, the movement painful but thankfully not unbearably so.

“Are you hurt?” your eyes scanned over her, searching for any sign of injury. There was a white bandage wrapped around her ankle, but other than that she appeared to be okay.

Natasha laughed, genuine and full, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, all I had was a sprained ankle and a couple bruises on my shoulders. Trust me, I’ve been through much worse.”

Despite her reassurances, you felt the beginnings of tears well up in your eyes. “God, Nat, I’m so sorry, if I had just done as Steve told me then I wouldn’t have got you hurt.”

She was shaking her head, eyes soft, whispering, “seriously, Y/N, don’t worry about it. Between you and me, I would have done exactly the same thing in your position.” You eventually relented, relaxing back on the bed a little, eyes growing heavy with fatigue and pain meds. “Though, full disclosure, Steve is none too happy about this whole thing.”

You groaned, sinking further down, instantly dreading the moment you would inevitably be confronted by him. It was as you were running through excuses and reasons for your actions when you slipped into a restless sleep.

---

During the two days you were in the med bay – for observation and precaution purposes, according to Bruce – most of the team came to visit at least once, usually to marvel at the sizeable bump on your head, or to catch you up with what was going on around the compound.

Nat was an almost constant, not being able to go on missions anyway, because of her ankle, and you passed the time telling stories about your fellow avengers – funny things they did or had done to them – and playing some games.

Ever loyal, Sam wasn’t totally comfortable with your decision to go against Steve’s orders, but was thoroughly impressed by your injuries.

Even Tony came in, briefly, probably out of obligation, before claiming to be uncomfortable in places like this and swiftly hurried off, no doubt back to the lab to bury himself back into whatever crazy project he was working on.

Most of the rest of the team came in at some point during those two days, though some were definitely courtesy more than anything.

The only one who didn’t come to see you was Steve.

Not that you were surprised by the fact that he didn’t want to see you, but this was a perfect opportunity for him to corner you and confront you about the mission. You were incapacitated, borderline bedbound, in a room with only one door which his wide shoulders would take up the majority of by just standing there.

You tried to ignore the pang of sadness you felt at the fact that he hadn’t stopped by. Regardless of whether or not you disobeyed him, you were still his teammate, surely he cares at least a little for your wellbeing?

You stop that train of thought before it could go any further, before it could even make the suggestion that Steve really didn’t care about you at all, because somehow that would be worse than the knowledge that he hated you.

---

As it turns out, you didn’t see Steve for another three days after you left the med bay. You’d been informed by Natasha that he and Sam were away on a smaller mission that only required the two of them, and you were silently grateful that you were given a few days to settle back into routine before your inevitable run-in with Steve.

Although you were allowed to be up and about, and the bump on your head had significantly decreased in size, you were under strict instructions from Bruce to not engage in any strenuous activity. You chuckled quietly at Bruce’s flustered reaction to you making a joke about whether sex counted as ‘strenuous.’

In any case, sine you were barred from even entering the training room, you had taken on some more admin-orientated jobs from Maria and Fury until Bruce gave you the all clear on your injuries. You prayed that day would come soon, the lack of any form of physical activity was making you tense, restless. You were bored, for possibly the first time since arriving on the compound.

---

You were in one of the conference rooms, tidying up papers left on the table from a meeting, murmuring the words to a song you’d heard on the radio earlier that day under your breath, when the door opened and shut.

Your back was to the door, so you didn’t see who entered, but you presumed that it was someone coming in for a meeting in the next slot.

“Just a second, sorry, I’ll be out of your way in a moment.” Your voice was bright, cheery, despite the dullness of your days now. When you got no reply from the person behind you, you quickly gathered the remaining pages into your hands and turned around, only to be met by the one face you had hoped not to see.

Steve.

His jaw was hard-set, though you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him with a relaxed face, and his arms were crossed over his chest, grey tshirt straining against his bulging muscles, the bottom half of his tac suit still on his legs. He must have just gotten back.

His presence was startling and imposing and you nearly dropped the papers you were holding.

“S-Steve?” You hated that you stuttered, but he’d caught you so off guard that you apparently couldn’t even use your mouth properly.

“We need to talk.” His voice was deep, and as attractive as it always was, his gaze heavy on your face, never faltering. There was a lingering anger there, though, that rooted your feet to the ground, despite the week that had passed. Plenty of time, you thought, to get his anger in check before he came to find you. That’s what you’d hoped, anyway. But no such luck.

You swallowed thickly, voice still coming out far meeker than you had heard yourself speak in a long time. “About what?”

Steve let out a derisive scoff, rolling his eyes and moving his gaze away from you briefly. “Don’t play dumb with me, Y/N.”

This made an angry fire burn inexplicably in your stomach, your fight-or-flight kicking in, facial expression suddenly switching from timid to furious in seemingly no time at all.

“I fail to see what I did wrong, captain, so please do enlighten me.”

Steve surged forward, then, one hand like a vice on our shoulder pushing you into a nearby wall, and you let out a soft grunt, shoulder blade throbbing from the force of it. He came up close to you, hand never leaving your shoulder, preventing you from escaping. If you weren’t so angry, you might have taken the time to appreciate how good he smelled, how the light smattering of facial hair across his jaw from a few days gone without shaving somehow made him look even more handsome, or just how pretty his eyes were. But, as it was, you were too angry for that. At the very least, too angry to spend more than a few nanoseconds appreciating it.

You met his still-had gaze and scoffed incredulously, “what the fuck, Steve?”

His nostrils flared, pressing you into the wall further, and you swallowed a gasp at the dull pain still radiating through your shoulder. “Don’t you talk to me like that.” His voice was low and quiet and somehow that intimidated you far more than if he had shouted. “I am your captain. You listen to my orders, and you follow them, without question. What was so hard about that to understand? What gave you the right to disobey me on a mission?”

The silence that followed was tense, uncomfortable. You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. You knew you were wrong to go against him. You knew, and yet you did it anyway, and you still weren’t sure why. But regardless of that, Steve’s anger towards you seemed wholly unnecessary.

This was not the Steve Rogers you had read about, heard stories about. The Steve Rogers who runs into burning buildings and jumps out of planes without a second thought. No, this Steve Rogers was harsh, unforgiving.

And, despite the heroics, you did not like him at all.

“You’ve been cold and dismissive towards me ever since I arrived here.” You hoped he wouldn’t acknowledge your sudden change of subject. “Why? What did I ever do to deserve that treatment?” It took a great deal of focus to make your voice not sound pitiful.

“I don’t like your attitude.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean? You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough about you to know that you are not the kind of person I want to be around.”

Your voice rose, each word enunciated, “you don’t know me.”

“I hate you.” His sudden burst of anger, words like venom, so uncharacteristic, startled you, freezing you in position. “I hated you before I even met you. You’re selfish and arrogant and you don’t deserve to be on this team.”

You involuntarily took in a breath, face going slack and shoulders straightening a little, the anger in your eyes swiftly replaced by a look of hurt so deep that Steve had to take a step back, chest heaving slightly from his anger. His own eyes reflected immediate guilt, clearly not having meant to say that to you. But there it was. And you couldn’t ignore the way your heart shattered before you.

The hurt suddenly reverted back to anger when you saw the soft, remorseful look on Steve’s face. How dare he be upset about this. He wasn’t the one whose heart had just been ripped out and trampled on by the one person he admired most in the world. He had no right to be sad when he was the one who had been practically ignoring your presence for months, who had once inspired you so wholly before tearing that inspiration all to shreds.

Your face hardened, the tears welling in your eyes threatening to surge forward at the new wave of anger that filled your entire body. You took a deep breath before squaring up to him, his wide frame somehow appearing to shrink in on itself a little under your gaze.

He took a breath and sighed, glancing away for a second before meeting your gaze again. “You won’t be going on any missions for a while.” His voice was quieter now, resigned, the anger from earlier gone, but clearly not forgotten. “Not until I know I can trust you.”

Like the flick of a switch, rage roared through you again. “You’re benching me? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“You’ve left me with no choice,” tone firm, resolute. Laced with misplaced authority.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, stepping away from the wall, coming in close to Steve, features hard, jaw tensed. “Fine. Bench me, whatever. But maybe you should take a good look at yourself, Rogers. Do you expect me to believe you got this far in life by always following orders and thinking every decision through before you acted?” His lips parted, a silent intake of breath. You knew you’d hit on something he hadn’t thought of.

Before he could reply, you slipped past him and out the door, barely refraining from sprinting all the way back to your room, finally allowing the tears to fall freely.

---

‘Benching’ didn’t last long.

Not even a week in, they discovered an active HYDRA base. A previous intel mission told them it was far bigger, far more dangerous than any the team had encountered before. They would need everyone. And, much to Steve’s annoyance, that included you.

He felt bad for what he said. Of course he did, he never meant to hurt you like that. He’d had several arguments with himself about it in the last few days, and as much as his conscience told him he needed to apologise, the rational, leadership-orientated part of him always brought him back round to the same point; he couldn’t trust you.

And yet, there you were, sat across from him and to the right, on the Quinjet headed for god knows where, deep in conversation with Sam, refusing to even glance in Steve’s direction. For some reason, he hated that you wouldn’t even look at him. He resolved to talk to you properly once the mission was over. He’d apologise, get you back on the team. He’d at least try to make amends. Maybe you would forgive him one day.

---

Fighting. You’re fighting and fighting and fighting and it seems never-ending, but you know it must end somewhere. An end to the fighting is pretty much the only thing getting you through at this point.

You’re moving fast, agile, and you’re silently thankful for all the extra training you did with Natasha.

You hold your own, dodging and throwing punches and kicks and the way you move with your knives is like something out of a dance.

Before long, the last agent is taken down, and once the facility has been sweeped, the team regroups, a little battered and bruised and worse for wear, but alive.

Steve’s about to run through the next plan of action when, out of the corner of your eye, you spot movement.

A HYDRA agent rounds the corner, limping, blood pouring from a gash on his forehead, his gun pointed directly at Steve. Time seems to both slow down and speed up as you surge forward, not even giving your brain a chance to think, Steve’s name falling from your lips in a panicked shout.

You shove him out of the way, though his solid stature means you only move him a couple of feet, before pain erupts in your side, the worst you’ve ever felt.

The sound of blood rushing through your ears makes your teammates’ shouts of your name muffled and distant, and you let out a choked gasp as you collapse onto the cold tiled floor, blood running thick and warm over your fingers where they press against your side.

Your vision blurs, though you can just make out Steve’s face leaning above you, eyebrow creased, eyes panicked and wilder than you had ever seen them. You wonder, briefly, why he’s suddenly so worried about you, but that thought is quickly replaced by regret. There were so many things you wish you could have done differently.

Muffled shouts fill your ears, and you’re not entirely sure whether they’re talking to you or not, but you can still see Steve’s face and an inexplicable longing fills your chest. Longing for what, you don’t know, but you find you don’t have the energy to find the answer.

There are hands all over you, though it’s unclear who they belong to. Someone removes your hand from your side, replaced by another, the added pressure making you gasp out in pain. You feel cool air against your abdomen, though it doesn’t seem to last for long. Someone is stroking your hair, their touch gentle, loving, and despite the commotion happening around you, it calms your racing heart.

Your eyes becoming heavier, you manage a hoarse whisper, “I’m sorry, Steve.”

You’re aware of strong arms wrapping around you, lifting with ease. Whispers of you’re gonna be okay and stay with me. The press of something soft and warm on the side of your head.

And then darkness.

#sherrys fall into you challenge #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers/you #steve rogers #captain america #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #captain america fanfic #captain america fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #beth writes #my fic

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asphalt-cocktail · 4 years

Text

Third Time’s the Charm

Summary: Little snippets of your and Ben’s childhood friendship and when you finally realized you loved him.

A/N: Hi everyone! This is for DTFRogertaylor’s Valentine’s Day event! I got the ever lovely @killer-queen-xo. I hope you enjoy the story! I had a ton of fun writing it and sorry it’s a day late!

Pairing: Ben Hardy x F!Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, lots of fluff

Word Count: 4.8k

When you broke your arm, 6 years old

A knock at your front door alerted your parents to guests, they opened the door to reveal a nice looking woman, an older man and a young boy around your age. The grown ups talked and you were told to “Go out side and play with Ben, sweetie.” Reluctantly you agreed to follow this chubby cheeked blonde haired boy outside to your back yard.

“I’m Ben.” He gave you a big grin, you felt slightly jealous that he had already lost his first tooth. You could tell by big gap in his grin.

“I’m [Y/N],” you offered shyly.

Your folks were still in the middle of unpacking, only having just arrived that morning which unfortunately meant your outside toys were packed away. But, you followed Ben’s gaze to the large oak tree that stood in the middle of your back yard, “I bet you cant get to the top.” Ben challenged you.

You shy timid nature was suddenly shattered, Ben had no idea how seriously your five year old self too challenges, especially from some smug boy “I can do it.” You retorted, running towards the tree as fast as your tiny legs could carry you.

You easily caught your footing on the seemingly perfect placed tree branches and up, up, up you went, “I told you I could do it!” You shouted back at Ben. Your leg slipped on one of the thinning branches and your heart thumped loudly in your chest. You put on a brave face and turned, sitting on a tree branch and looking down to where Ben looked like a tiny ant. You could see everything from up here, well just the tops of the surrounding neighborhood houses, but to your small mind it felt like you could see the whole world.

Ben grinned manically up at you “I cant believe you did it!” He shouted, “I’m gonna come up!” He scrambled towards the base of the climbing tree.

Your watched him run to the base of the tree and suddenly it felt as though you climbed too high. You looked around and attempted to find a place to lower yourself, but the branches became a jumbled mess. You felt overwhelmed and your chest began to heave with nervousness, “Wait!” You yelled back, sounding terrified, “Don’t come up until I come down, I need help.” You felt tears pricking at your vision and sniffed, wiping your eyes.

“Don’t worry!” He looked up at you and held his arms out bravely, “I got you!” He promised.

You shook your head, “I cant do it.” Your vision went blurry and your shoulders shook from crying.

Ben’s face softened “Just jump,” he urged you, “I’ll catch you I promise!”

For some reason, you believed him.

You waved in and out of consciousness, remembering your father carrying you to the car. Ben apologizing frantically and what seemed like an endless number of doctors until you finally woke up.

Your arm was broken in three spots from your fall, it was going to heal just fine but for now you had on an ugly flesh tone cast that prevented you from moving it. You looked around the hospital room, past your parents, “Is Ben here?” You asked eagerly.

Your mother and father looked at each other with slightly apprehensive looks on their face, “Yeah, he’s in the waiting room sweetie.” Your mom said.

“I wanna show him my cast! Can he sign it?” You asked moving your arm, but wincing at the pain.

Your mom sighed, “Yeah I’ll go get him.” She said before walking to the waiting room.

Within a few minutes Ben and his folks filled the room, “Aw man! I thought you died!” Ben grinned at you and scrambled up to sit next to you on the hospital mattress, avoiding his mother’s scolding remarks. He made himself comfortable and sat cross legged, “I thought I really could catch you, you know, but then I didn’t and you just hit the ground like a sack of rocks. You shudda seen your arm!” He eagerly babbled on and on about your fall, and you listened.

When he finished his story you held your arm out to show off your cast, “I want you to be the first on to sign it!” You grinned at him.

Ben looked at you in awe. Signing a cast was a big deal.

Well according to the two of you it was .

He messily scrawled his name down, the letters looking wobbly and unpracticed, “When you break your arm I’ll be the first one to sign it too, promise?” You asked looking up at him wide eyed.

Ben’s brows knit together, “I promise.” He answered back sounding determined.

————

Your First Boyfriend, 18 years old

You were 18 and it was your first year at University, you met Jake in an English class. He offered to edit your papers and wore button downs every day you saw him in class. Naturally a college romance blossomed.

You couldn’t get enough of him, he was funny, smart, charming; truly a package deal. You couldn’t wait to introduce him to your high school best friend, Ben, this was what would seal the deal.

In the weeks leading up to your planned dinner together, you would not stop talking about Jake to Ben.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t wait for you to meet him!” You practically squealed on the phone.

Ben laughed and the phone line crackled, “You’ve been talking about him nonstop for the last three days.” You could hear the grin in his voice and as he spoke.

You laid on your lumpy dorm mattress and looked up at the white painted ceiling, “I know, I’m just excited is all.” You matched his grin, “I think the two of you are really gonna hit it off. He’s into sports too you know.”

“Is that all your basing our friendship off of?” Ben quipped, teasing you, “You know a lot of people like sports.”

After your phone call, you laid back onto your bed. A sudden wave of nerves washing over you; what if he and Ben didn’t get along? What if Ben was different? It was going to be the first time the two of you saw each other since your college moves. Your nerves and excitement churned your tummy in an unpleasant way and kept you awake for most of the night.

You tossed and turned, moving your pillow around, adjusting your blankets, and listening to the rowdy college students that walked through the hallways.

The following morning when you met Ben at the train station, he greeted you with a big warm hug. You inhaled his scent, it reminded you of home.

“So where is this Jake guy?” Ben pressed, throwing his bag into your car.

You shrugged, “He had class this morning so he couldn’t come with, but don’t worry you’ll meet him at dinner!” You tapped at the steering wheel nervously.

Ben told you all about his acting coach and how much he loved living in London. His eyes were bright with excitement as he talked, it caused a surge of warmth to spread through your chest. Ben was always so animated when he talked about something he was passionate for.

Getting to spend the whole day with Ben was exciting and nice, seeing him reminded you of home and back when you weren’t piled neck deep in essays. But, dinner time was what you were truly excited for; your two favorite boys getting to meet each other at last.

You showered and dressed in the bathroom attached to your dorm suite while Ben waited patiently for you to finish getting ready. You wore something casual, yet still nice. When you stepped back into your dorm room Ben’s face lit up, he cast a familiar, warm smile at you “You look great!” He complimented.

A wave of bashfulness washed over you, “Thank you, Benny” You smiled softly at him. “You clean up nicely too.” You said noting how he had changed into a nice button down while you had been getting ready.

When the two of you arrived at the restaurant, Jake had already gotten a table for the two of you inside. Ben was nervous, what if this Jake fella was a complete and total prick? His feelings for you had teetered over the line of best friend for quite sometime now and as much as that it pained him to hear you talk on and on about how great Jake was, he, in all honesty, just wanted you to be happy.

When Ben’s eyes fell upon the infamous Jake he noted the man’s tall thin stature and dark hair, almost the complete opposite of Ben. He pursed his lips into a thin line and felt a pang of jealousy wash over him when Jake greeted you with a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Jake,” you grinned, “This is Ben, my best friend from back home.”

Ben reached his hand out and gripped Jakes in a firm hand shake; it was as though either one was trying to establish dominance via who gave off the firmer grip, “Pleasure.” Ben said giving a too friendly smile.

The you and Jake sat across from Ben in the booth, “So, [Y/N] tells me you’re going to school for engineering?” Ben asked.

Jake looked up from his bowl of pasta, “Oh yeah, materials focused. I liked music, but the arts didn’t seem like a very practical field of study for future jobs.”

Oof, that felt like a personal attack. Ben’s shoulder’s tensed ever so slightly, “A lot of people don’t go into the arts because they’re too weak to take constructive criticism.” Ben humbled, raising his glass to his lips and quirking his brow at Jake.

“Ben is going to school for acting!” You excitedly mentioned, “He was telling me all about his acting coach and the show he is doing for this semester-”

“I know, [Y/N],” Jake let out a less than amused laugh, “You’ve mentioned it practically a hundred times.” You sunk back into your seat, the familiar glimmer your eyes held now dampened. Ben did not like the tone Jake took with you.

As the night progressed, Ben tried to keep an open mind; but, to put it frankly, he hated Jake. He hated how Jake obviously looked down on you and though he was vastly smarter than you and the condescending remarks he would make and the way Jake constantly had to be holding your hand and shot you a look whenever you tried to take it away from him. None of it sat well with Ben.

“So, Ben, where are you staying tonight?” Jake asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin before he reached back and grabbed your probably too sweaty hand.

“[Y/N]’s floor.” Ben answered truthfully.

“You’re sleeping in the same room at her?” He pressed, brows furrowed.

“Yeah, we’re in college, mate,” Ben reminded your boyfriend, “It’s hard to afford a hotel for a few nights.” The fact that Ben was sleeping on your floor wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for your friendship. When the two of you were younger you would have sleepovers all the time.

“It’s not weird, Jake,” You gave him a reassuring smile and lightly squeezed his hand.

Jake made a face, showing his obvious discomfort with the situation, “Seems a bit weird to me.”

You let out a huff, “What do you not trust me?” You bit back harshly. An uncomfortable air settled between you three and you abruptly shook your hand away from Jake’s, “We’re all adults here, I’m sure Ben and I can sleep in the same room and not have it be weird.” You smoothed your hands over your jeans, “I’m sorry Jake is being so rude, Ben. He normally doesn’t act like this.”

Ben shrugged his shoulders “It’s okay.” It wasn’t, “I’m going to use the restroom I’ll be right back.” He said tossing his napkin from his lap onto the table.

“Fucking hell.” He mumbled, washing his hands with warm water and staring into the mirror. Part of him didn’t want to go back out and face the two of you arguing, he knew that once you got going on something there was really no way for you to back down. But, Jake wouldn’t know that after only knowing you for two months now would he?

Once Ben left the restroom he caught sight of you and Jake still locked in a heated debate and slowly meandered his way over to the table. You rubbed your face in frustration, “You can either sleep at my place and leave Ben in your dorm, or we can break up,” Jake angrily stated. You were obviously not happy with the result.

Ben gaped at your boyfriend, what the hell had he just walked into? You abruptly stood up, throwing a fist full of cash onto the table and grabbed Ben’s arm, “Let’s go.” You said tugging him to leave. You were practically seething with anger as you pulled your best friend through the restaurant, ignoring the stares you got.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N]” Ben said softly once the two of you got to your car, “I didn’t mean to ruin things.” He truly hadn’t, he just wanted to see you happy.

“I cant believe he couldn’t trust me,” You said your voice wavering with emotion. You gripped your steering wheel determined to not let the warm tears that stung at your eyes spill over. You were determined to be strong.

Ben turned towards you, a small frown on your face “Come here,” He said softly, pulling you into his chest, “[Y/N], you deserve so much better than that guy back there.” He cooed while resting his chin on your head.

You inhaled deeply; Ben smelt like spearmint gum, the cheap cologne you always made fun of him for wearing, and home. You finally let out a broken sob, allowing yourself to relax into Ben’s warm and familiar embrace, “I cant believe that he would actually think I would just leave you all alone in my room like that.” You said into Ben’s chest, your words muffled, “I made you come all the way from London to visit me, I’m not throwing it away just because some suit tells me to.”

Ben couldn’t help but let out a little laugh, “You know I was going to wait tell you this, but I brought a box of those cookies my mom always bakes with.”

You pulled away and looked at Ben, eyes red and slightly swollen from tears, “Ben, those are my favorite.” Your face contorted once more as you threatened to cry. Your best friend cupped your face, wiping away your tears and you smiled at him before leaning over to place a soft kiss on his cheek, “Thanks, Ben, what did I do to deserve a best friend like you.”

—————

His date to the world premier 28 years old

You stood in the mirror and looked at yourself. You could hardly believe that the person who looked back at you was in face yourself. Ben invited you to accompany him to the special premier of his most recent movie, Bohemian Rhapsody. You knew it was going to be big, but you didn’t think it was going to be designer dress, get your hair and makeup professionally done, big. But it was.

“Come on, the car is going to be here soon to pick us up!” Ben shouted as he walked past the door in long rushed strides. He stopped and backed up before turning to look at you once more, “You clean up nicely.” He gave you the same cheeky grin and admiring the soft curve of your hips in the dress he helped you pick out.

Your face felt hot when you looked at Ben, his black suit jacket covered his black mesh top, only allowing a stripe of skin to show. You swallowed thickly, suddenly the tight bodice of your dress felt too tight for you to breathe comfortably, “You, uh, you look nice too.” You attempted to play it cool, but your voice gave away your struggle.

“The car.” Ben said suddenly breaking the silence.

“Oh right! Shit, I need to get my shoes on, give me a second.” You said quickly sliding one foot into your pumps. You struggled to balance on one heeled foot and wobbled, your arms spreading out to steady yourself. You stumbled slightly “Woah,” You mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows now determined to put your shoe on. Ben reached out and his surprisingly soft hands gripped yours in his own. He stood firmly and you felt something stir within the depths of your belly from his touch. You ignored your swimming thoughts and slipped your other shoe on with ease.

What you had pictured this grandiose event to be was dwarfed by the actual scale of the event. As soon as you and Ben exited the limo you were met with a barrage of flashing lights and a wall of people yelling. The sounds overwhelmed your senses and the voices of the thousands of people gathered soon morphed into one giant voice that hammered away at your ear drums and caused your head to spin. You gripped Ben’s hand tightly and buried your face into the back of his shoulder as you stood behind him while he and his costars conversed with a reporter.

Ben glanced over his shoulder and leaned his head onto yours, his thumb smoothing over the skin on the back of your hand, “You okay?” He murmured.

You looked at him with wide and slightly terrified eyes, “‘M fine.” You huffed out.

Ben let out a small huffing laugh “Liar.” He teased, “I’ll be right back, I’ve got to show [Y/N] where the bathroom is.” He said politely excusing himself and leading you to a back area with refreshments. He grabbed a bottle of fancy water and opened it before handing it to you.

You drank down the cool liquid and sighed, “How the hell do you do it?” You asked shaking your head in disbelief.

Ben shrugged his shoulders, “It’s overwhelming, but it’s also nice to know so many people are appreciating something that you do.” He stuffed his hands into his fitted dress pants and pursed his lips into a thin line, “It helps having you with though, you know, it eases the nerves a bit.” His cheeks were flushed a slight pink color and he was smiling softly.

After the after party and a healthy amount of drinks the two of you some how managed to stumble your way back to the hotel suite Ben had booked for the night. You held your heels in one hand and leaned on Ben’s shoulder while the two of you giggled about nothing and fumbled through your purse to find the key card, “Come on, Ben.” You whined and slurred your words together from intoxication, “My feet hurt and I have to pee.” You leaned on him, your chin resting on his shoulder as Ben continued to rummage through your purse, past the lipstick and cards that made up its contents.

Ben turned towards you, your noses practically touching. He let out a shaky breathy that bounced off your face, it smelled like alcohol but you didn’t mind. “I found it.” He stated holding the card up, his voice suddenly gone hoarse.

He struggled to swipe it through the card reader, distracted by how your breath tickled the hairs on the back of his neck. He threw the door open and let out a sigh of relief once you pulled away from him. You quickly pushed past him and flopped down onto the bed, spreading your arms out and snuggling onto the soft comforter.

Ben messily kicked his shoes off and began to unbutton his mesh shirt. You glanced over at him and you felt heat spread from the tip of your nose to the back of your neck.

You sat up and handed Ben his jacket that he graciously gave you to keep you warm during the after party before you began to struggle with the zipper on the back of your dress. You stood up, your arms and body contorting in different ways so you could attempt to reach the zipper, but it proved to be a far bigger struggle than you were prepared for, “Benny?” You asked in a small voice.

He glanced up at you, swaying from side to side. You didn’t know if it was from nerves or alcohol, “Hmm?” He hummed.

You turned your back to him “Can you help me?” You sounded sheepish.

Ben swallowed thickly “yeah, course.” He answered and padded over to you.

He gripped the small zipper in his large fingers and eased it down, his face feeling hotter and hotter as more and more skin began to reveal itself to him. Without any thought, his fingertips lightly followed the zipper, tracing your skin in its wake and causing goosebumps to rise on your skin and your nerves to stand on end.

You shivered. You obviously felt it. He felt it.

A thick tension settled between the two of you and you were hit with an abrupt wall of sobriety. “Thank you,” Your voice was just barely above a whisper. You clutched the front of your dress to your chest and you grabbed your sleep clothes before shuffling away to the bathroom, the fabric of your dress pooling around your feet and rustling as you walked.

The following morning your head felt like it was swimming, not because of your hang over, but because of Ben.

The same Ben that had dared you to jump out of a tree when you were 8 years old and caused you to break your arm after he promised to catch you. The Ben that remembered the promise the two of you made after you broke your arm and wouldn’t let the rugby team sign the cast for his broken arm until you did. The Ben that was there for you when your first boyfriend dumped you and there for you for the several others that followed. The Ben that took you to the world premier of his movie and helped you pick out a lavish dress.

You sat in the bathroom, towel wrapped around your body and head in your hands while in deep ponderous thought. Why did you always been so much warmth every time the two of you hugged? You groaned in frustration, you could not have feelings for Ben.

But you knew you did. It gnawed at your insides like a parasite.

You sat there long enough for parts of your hair to dry before Ben knocked at the door, “[Y/N]?” He asked, “You okay in there?” He pressed

You jumped slightly surprised, “Yeah, sorry, just scrolling through twitter.” You answered back before you quickly rushed to get your clothes on.

“Did you still want to get breakfast?” Ben asked, you could hear the hopefulness behind his voice. That boy sure did love food.

You held your hand on the door knob and stared at it before opening it, “Yeah we can.” You answered, a small smile playing on your face.

You opened the door, only to be met staring face to face with Ben. “Excuse me.” You teasingly poked his chest so that he would move.

Ben stepped off to the side and allowed you space to slip past before he went in the bathroom to get ready.

You mindlessly scrolled through social media, but not before your eyes caught a news report on the movie premier. You licked your lips, unsure on if you should click and read through it. Going against your gut feeling you found yourself scrolling through and looking at the glorious images the photographers captured. You saw pictures of yourself and hardly recognized your own face all done up for a Hollywood party, and you saw pictures of Ben looking as stunning as ever on the red carpet.

As you continued to scroll through the feed you took note of the pictures of you and Ben, how he constantly was touching some part of your body in a tasteful manner whether it was a hand placed on the small of your back or lacing his fingers in his own.

It looked… natural…

The little glances that were captured showed how enamored you seemed to be with the man and how he equaled your affectionate gaze. Your stomach clenched at how the two of you looked like an actual couple.

“[Y/N].” Ben said, suddenly sounding close.

You jumped and immediately locked your phone before you turned to the side and smiled at Ben nervously. “Hey,” You said giving him a tight lipped smile.

“Are you okay?” He asked, “You look, off?” He didn’t know the word to use that explained your expression.

It was a combination of awe and longing.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You said and picked at the imaginary lint on your pants, “So about that food.” You let out in a quick breath.

“Oh, right, I’m starved.” He grinned and patted his tummy for added effect.

Despite feeling hungry you picked at your plate like a bird while Ben filled his belly full of breakfast food. “Are you sure you’re fine?” Ben pressed, arching his brow and letting his fork loosely hang in his hand.

You nodded your head, “Yeah, why?”

“You haven’t even put syrup on you pancakes, you just put butter on them and watched it melt.”

Right.

You shrugged, “Dunno, I’m just thinking.” You answered honestly.

Ben quirked his head at you in confusion, “About what?”

You.

“Last night.”

Ben felt his blood freeze, “What about last night?” He put his fork down, “I’m sorry if the paps overwhelmed you, I should have warned you about it ahead of time.” He followed, sounding genuinely worried by your little freak out on the red carpet.

You shook your head, “No it wasn’t that.” You chewed on the bottom of your lip nervously, “I just…” you didn’t know how to properly communicate how you were feeling, “I don’t know, I’m just being dumb.” You looked away and averted his gaze.

Ben reached over the table and gripped your hand in his own, smoothing his fingers over the soft skin on the back of your hand, “Don’t ever say that, [Y/N], you’re one of the most brilliant people I know.” Ben said giving your hand a soft squeeze and letting it linger there for a while.

It felt like his fingertips were burning into your skin. Even when he pulled away, you could still feel them lingering, “Why are you so nice to me.” You asked, half joking.

Ben shifted in his seat uncomfortably, “Because I like you.” He answered honestly and abruptly, “I have since I saw you climb to the top of that tree in your backyard.”

It felt like your heart skipped a beat in your chest, “Ben, that’s been more than twenty years.” You said back to him slightly shocked at his confession.

It felt like your eyes were staring holes right through him, “I know.” He firmly stood his ground on what he said.

You looked down at your hand where his fingers last touched yours and then back up at Ben who was staring at his plate, “I like you too.” You said shyly.

After your breakfast, Ben drove you back to your apartment and walked you up to the door where he lingered for a moment, obviously needing something to say, “Can I take you on a real date?” He asked, suddenly shy and red faced.

You smiled softly at him and shook your head, “Was taking me to the world premier of your movie not a date?” You joked.

Ben laughed and shrugged, “I didn’t know it was, so I told the reporters you were just a friend.” He answered honestly and scratched at the back of his neck.

You couldn’t help but join him in laughter, “Then yes, you can, but only if you kiss me.” You felt a sudden wave of boldness wash over you and your words fell out before you could close up with nerves.

Ben gave you a wide, toothy grin and brought his hand up to your face. He cupped your cheek in his palm and pulled you close, his lips lightly brushed against yours before he closed what little pace there was. His lips were chapped and he tasted like left over syrup from breakfast, but you didn’t mind.

You melted into his touch and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer against you and sighed against his mouth. There was something so familiar about his touch, it comforted you and caused a surge of warmth to spread through your body. The cool December air was long forgotten.

#ben hardy x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy fluff #STL event #reader insert

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lightskinrry · 4 years

Text

what’s left of if you’re good...

to remind y’all of what it was: Harry meets you in a bar and is seduced by your bubbly and outgoing personality, he asks you on date to know each other better little did he know he was not the only one with a special job

a/n: that's what I was able to recover and sadly couldn’t find the inspiration and energy to finish... Anyway, hope you like the little I can give you!

Part Two: Tequila Sunrise and Whipped Cream.

The shadows danced in the alley under the red neon. The words “Sex Shop” reflected in the puddle on the street, making them float on the ground like a weirdly luring portal to another dimension where there’s no sins or shame, where everything is buoyant and dark. Where leather and lace cohabit and Desire rules everything; a place you’d want to go but would be scared to stay.

You watched Harry walk down the street, his eyes shifting from the map on his phone, the sexshop sign and the puddle. He was probably wondering if he should dive in. Should he walk inside this lugubre place where nothing is what it seems and something exciting awaits him? Should he head down in the puddle and drown? Or should he walk back to his car and act as if he never came here in the first place? You hoped he would just walk in and leave all his worries outside. His hood was covering his face, you recognized him from the rings on his fingers that spelled his initials and his pink phone case.

He took a deep breath and walked a step only to be met with a tall and big man who ran into him while heading out, his head bowed down.

“Sorry fella.”

The man walked faster past Harry and shoved him at the same time and you could tell Harry second guessed coming in before his curiosity took over and he hustled himself through the door.

“Miss Red can’t see you now, Sir.” A huge black man dressed in a usual security uniform informed the small and bald man standing in front of him as Harry waited for his turn to walk through the big red curtains.

“But she said she could see me tonight.” The little man pleaded.

“She can’t see you now.”

“But…”

“Don’t make me throw you out, man.” The security guy snapped as he adjusted his sunglasses on his nose.

You were peeping the conversation through the curtains as you waited behind them.

The bald man sighed in frustration and left. Harry appeared so small next to the security man.

“Hi…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m here to see Y/N.”

You stiffed at the mention of your name and before Joe the security guy snapped Harry’s neck for mentioning your real name here, you went out.

“What?” Joe’s voice was getting higher. You placed yourself between him and Harry.

“It’s cool, J. He’s a newbie.”

“Uh. Okay.”

Harry’s head naturally bowed down, you pulled on your robe. “Let’s go.” You grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled him behind the curtain.

“It’s Miss Red, here.” You whispered as you let a chuckle leave your lips, trying to make him relax.

“Sorry.” His head was facing the ground and the tulles of your robe brushed his arms which made him shiver.

You raised his face up with your fingers, making him look into your eyes. Despite the high heels on your feet he was still taller than you.

“It’s cool.” You nibbled on your lower lip before a smile crept on your face. “Just don’t do that again.”

Your relaxed and giggly tone made him realize you were not mad at his mistake. A jittery chuckle left his mouth and he took a deep breath. You placed your hands on his shoulders and pressed them. “Hey! Chill out, Harry! I’m not gonna kill you.”

He sighed before laughing again. “Yeah. I know… I’m just… a tad nervous?”

“Don’t have to be. Don’t think too much of it, Harry. It’s going to be fun.”

You winked at him as you pulled on his arms to make him enter your office. Or so called “office”. It was a large room with a very high ceiling. It was light and cosy; the big red velvet sofa always looked way more comfortable than it actually was. Above it was a modern painting hanging on the wall. Except for the whips, crops and other torture instruments and sex toys; the room looked pretty welcoming. And for some, the whips and sex toys were what made it so welcoming.

“It’s nice.” Harry’s eyes wandered around the room, trying to capture the aura of the place. You couldn’t quite read his face but it wouldn’t be good for him to know everything that goes down in this room.

“Take a sit.” You pointed at the red sofa before turning your back to him so you could grab the files that laid on your desk at the opposite side of the room.

When you turned around, he was sitting on the edge of the sofa, his hood down and his legs squeezing. He was definitely nervous and it was cute. You liked how shy and intimidated he was. A big strong man who was going to kneel in front of you. That was the thrill.

You leaned against the desk as you squeezed the paper in your hand. “How are you doing?”

He looked at you for a while before saying anything. His glare traced your curves through the fabric of your robe, from your platform heels to your straightened hair.

“I’m fine.”

You nibbled on your thumb as a giggle left your lips. You untied the knot of your robe and it fell to the floor; revealing your red corset and its assorted lingerie set. Harry’s eyes started shimmering at your sight and a smirk crept on your face.

“Like what you see?” You walked up to him painfully slow. So the image of your body moving towards him like a threat he couldn’t escape from, would mark his mind and he wouldn’t forget it.

He swallowed the gulp in his throat. His eyes were shifty and his tongue was running on his lips. You stood tall in front of him, your figure towering over him. He looked so small and soft standing in your shadow; his lips ajar and his eyes wide open.

“Do you like what you see, Harry?” You asked again, your tone getting firmer.

“Yeah.” His voice was more of a breath than a sound.

“Yes Mistress.” You bent down to him to look into his eyes. “Say ‘yes mistress’.”

He pouted for a second. You could tell he knew this was the first step and if he took it, there were no backing down.

He gave you a soft smile but his eyes were playful. “Yes… Y/N.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was being a little brat. You usually don’t like clients who play games but with Harry it was different. You wanted to play all night long. You wanted to tease him and bite him and make him purr in your lap like a kitten. Like something that’s yours, something that belongs to you. You wanted to be that something he’d crave at night, in the morning, in the afternoon and in the evening. The only thing his mind pictures when he hears the sound of heels clicking on the ground, the only thing he thinks about when he sees the color red. You wanted to be his fantasy.

You grabbed his jaw softly. “Are you sure you want to go down this road with me?”

Your words had a double meaning and he understood it clearly. It was a playful threat but also a check up that he was comfortable enough to keep going.

He nodded as his usual smirk appeared on his face. You looked down at him and let go of his jaw, going back to your desk.

“So you’ve been picturing me spanking you?” You looked at him as you shook the paper in your hands; his client chart.

“I’ve been picturing you doing a lot of things.” He cleared his throat. “Karaoke, for example.”

You smiled to yourself. He still wanted to see you outside of this office again which was a good sign for the future of this odd relationship the both of you started.

“I like Karaoke.” You smiled as you pressed your back against the desk. “I like spanking, too.”

“Do you think we can do both at the same time or is it physically impossible?” He held in a cute laugh as his eyes kept tracing your body.

“We can try.” You smugly shrugged. “I can spank you and you see if you can hit those high notes.” You playfully raised your eyebrows at him. “I know I can.”

Harry bit his lower lip. “I’d die to see you try.”

You walked towards him and stopped a few inches from him. You grabbed a little black velvet box that rested on the table next to the sofa. You could feel Harry’s gaze all over you; it was this burning sensation that took over your whole body. You pulled a red rope out of the box and turned around to face Harry. “Get up.”

He smiled to himself as he stood slowly. “So, what’s next?”

You gave him a conceited smile. “Don’t ask questions. Just do as I say.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and let your hands slither from the back of his neck to his chest, all the way down to his lower stomach. You pulled his sweatshirt up above his head and threw it on the sofa. You placed your hands on his chest, scratching it softly with your nails. You could feel his breath on your skin and his heart beat against your hands.

You took a few steps back to properly look at him. “Put your hands together.”

You loved how silent he was; he just put his hands together without saying anything. He was standing there; shirtless, his heart pounding hard, his cock throbbing; a detail you couldn’t help but notice through his light jeans and his hands ready to be tied up.

“Good. You’re more obedient than I thought you would be.” You teased him as you started tying the rope around his wrists. His hands were softly shaking so once the knot was tied; you held his hands in yours. “I’ll be gentle.”

He smiled to you and leaned closer to your face as if he demanded a kiss to prove your gentleness. You slowly gave in; letting his hands fall back from yours and opening your kiss softly. You gave him a gentle kiss, one that parted his lips enough to let a moan slip; one that you sealed by grabbing his jaw a little harder and whispering in his mouth. “Get on your knees.”

You watched him drop to his knees in front of you. “Good boy.”

He looked up to you with a smile on his face. “I like it when you call me that.”

You chuckled a little bit as you placed your hands on your hips. “What’s your safe word?”

“Kiwi.”

“Never be afraid to use it. At any moment.” He nodded but you needed to hear him say that he would never be afraid to use his safe word so you insisted. “Am I clear?”

“Yes.”

You grabbed his jaw between your fingers. “Yes who?”

“Yes Mistress.”

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles writings #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #if you're good #ifyg

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deanwinchestermydaddy · 4 years

Text

TO SEE YOU AGAIN (DEAN WINCHESTER STORY) PART. 20

Y/n's POV:

These past four months have been the hardest for me and Sam. I try to help him but he blamed himself and I did the same with myself. Sam would disappear for days then come back. I couldn't sleep because when I closed my eyes I was able to see or more imagined what Dean was going through and I felt the same pain, how I felt my body being torn apart then put back together. The first time that I had those nightmares I had Sam to comfort me but it wasn't the same he wasn't Dean.

As the time went by I would disappear for weeks saying that I was going to the bar and on hunts to think and free my mind, but I wasn't. I drove to a different crossroads in town then out of town to make a deal, but none of the demons want to make a deal with me to bring Dean back. It was driving me crazy.

"you know Dean wouldn't like you to make a deal Y/n? He made me promise that I was going to protect you and stopped you from doing that" he said as he sat down in front of me, "yeah Sam I know" I said lying to him, "I will go to take a nap then I will bring us food is that alright?" I said and he nodded and gave me a small smile that I returned. I went to my room and did something that I haven't done in years I prayed. I got on my knees and cross myself, "look, I know that I am not one of your favorites. I don't even know if you are real or not, but once again I just want to ask you for a miracle to bring Dean back, he deserves something better than what he has got. So, God, I ask you for a miracle to bring Dean back safe, that's all I ask for. Please and Thank you" I said and got up and grabbed the keys of my car to go to town, "hey Y/n I thought you said you were gonna take a nap?" Sam said as he saw me, "Not anymore Sam. You want the usual?" I asked and he nodded, "be careful alright," he said giving me another smile, "will do Sam," I said before I walked out.

~IN TOWN~

I was walking around not really looking, having other thoughts on my mind which were really only about Dean. I bump or more like slammed into someone and I fall on my butt, "I'm so sorry Miss" the guy said as he turns around to help me up, "no, it was my fault. So I am sorry for slamming into you Mister" I said as I look up and saw that he was wearing a black dress shirt, "Don't call me Mister you make me feel old" he said as he looked down and smile at me and I smile at him back, "thank you... uh I guess young fella for picking me up even when it was my fault" I said and he laughs at what I said and I saw those big blue eyes that twinkle, "no problem, young gal and have a good night" he said as he started to walk away and I just stood there looking at him walk away, "good night to you too!" I said loud and he turns and waves, "may God bless you," he said and it made me froze, then I continue to go and get the food for me and Sam. After that day I left for Iowa to try again to make a deal.

Dean's POV:

"Help! Help! Help!" I said as I was pounding on the wood that was above my head as dirt falls on my face and I continue to pound.

I was in the middle of a grassy field, a simple wooden cross is planted as I crawl my way out of the ground, groaning and gasping. I lie on my back, panting. I stand looks around in the glaring sunlight.

I walked until I saw an abandoned Gas Station and I entered, "Hello?" I say but no one answers, so I enter and took some water to drink I was really thirsty. I started to get more water to take and I see a Newspaper and it says that is Thursday, September 18th. I cleaned myself and started to look on my body and see that nothing that happened to me in Hell is there no scars, well just a hand-print on my left shoulder.

I go to the counter, set down the bag, and hit a single button on the register, snapping my fingers in satisfaction when it pops open. As I'm looting the cash, the TV to my left flicks on, showing only static. I shut it off; only to have a radio to my right turn on to white noise. Not wasting a moment, I go to another shelf and grabs a carton of salt, opens it, and begin to pour it along the windowsill.A high-pitched single tone begins, and I clutch my left ear in pain as I continue to pour salt with my right hand. As it continues, I drop the salt and crouch to the floor, groaning in agony. The window above my head shatters as the sound continues, and I drop to the floor. I leap to my feet to try to escape, and more glass on the ceiling and walls shatters. I went to a phone booth that was there and dial Sam's and Y/n's number but they don't answer, so I try another number. This time it rings and is answered."Yeah?" he said and I was happy to hear his voice, "Bobby?" I said looking around, "Yeah?", "It's me," I say and still sounds that he doesn't recognize me, "Who's "me"?" he says confirming what I thought, "Dean," I said and a dial tone sounds, so I hang up and dial again. "Who is this?" he said again, "Bobby, listen to me" I try to stop him from hanging up, "This ain't funny. Call again, I'll kill ya" he said and the dial tone again. ~AT BOBBY'S~

I pound on the door, and Bobby's hand appears to open it. I smile cautiously, but Bobby looks at me suspiciously. "Surprise," I said, "I, I don't..." Bobby says, "Yeah, me neither. But here I am" I said entering. As I approach him he lunges forward and slashes me, so I grabbed his arm and twist it around, he breaks the grip and backhands me in the face. "Bobby! It's me!" I said but still, he doesn't believe me, "My ass!" he said and I put a chair between the both of us, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after you met Rodney, and later met your wife and... you're about the closest thing I have to a father. Bobby. It's me" I said raising my hands and he lowers his knife and places his hand on my shoulder, suddenly he slashes again, but I quickly subdue and disarm him. "I am not a shapeshifter!" I said but he can't hear me or something, "Then you're a Revenant!" he said and I shove him away and hold the knife, "Alright. If I was either, could I do this – with a silver knife?" I said rolling my sleeve and slicing my arm, "Dean?" he said starting t believe me, "That's what I've been trying to tell you" I said and he grabs me and pulls me into a tight hug and I return it.

"It's... It's good to see you, boy" he says and I felt relief, "Yeah, you too," I said smiling at him, "But... how did you bust out?" he said and I really had no idea, "I don't know. I just, uh, I just woke up in a pine box..." I didn't finish cause Bobby splashes water on my face, "I'm not a demon either, you know" I said spitting the water, "Sorry. Can't be too careful" he said giving me a towel that I use to wipe my face, "What do you remember?" he asked, "Not much. I remember I was a Hellhound's chew toy, and then... lights out. Then I come to six feet under, that was it. Sam's and Y/n's number are not working. They're, uh... they're not..." I said imagining the worst, "Oh, he's alive. And as far as I know, she is too" he said sitting down, "Good... Wait, what do you mean, as far as you know?" I asked him what he means, "I haven't talked to her for months. Sam calls some days to check-in" he said, "You're kidding, you just let her go off by herself?" I said getting angrier, "She was dead set on it and Sam was with her for a while," he said, "Bobby, you should've been looking after both Sam and her, you saw how she reacted!" I said raising my voice, "I tried. These last months haven't been exactly easy, you know. For them or me. We had to bury you" he said trying to make understand, "Why did you bury me, anyway?" I said curiously, "I wanted you salted and burned. Usual drill. But... they wouldn't have it" he said suspiciously, "Well, I'm glad they won that one," I said, "she said you'd need a body when she got you back home somehow. That's all she said while Sam just didn't want to listen. Both insisted that she was acting differently" he explained, " What do you mean?" I asked him to elaborate," she was quiet. Real Quiet. And then she just took off. Wouldn't return my calls. I tried to find her, but she didn't want to be found by me. And Sam said that sometimes she will show up stay for a day then leave for weeks" he said and I got mad, "Oh, damnit, Y/n" I said hitting the table, "What?" he said not understanding my actions, "Oh, she got me home okay. But whatever she did, it is bad mojo" I said shaking my head, "What makes you so sure?" he looked at me with concern, "You should have seen the gravesite. It was like a nuke went off. And then there was this... this force, this presence, I don't know, but it, it blew past me at a fill-up joint. And then this" I said and show him the handprint, "What in the hell?" he said as he stands up, "It was like a demon just yanked me out. Or rode me out" I said having my mind going wild, "But why?" he asked, "To hold up their end of the bargain," I said and I saw the worried on his face, "You think Y/n made a deal," he said as the concern grew on his face, "It's what I would have done," I said and I didn't know what to think.

Me and Bobby left to Kansas where Sam was and to see if he knew anything about Y/n.

Y/n's POV:

It's been a couple of days since I left for Iowa and I have tried at least 5 times to get a deal, but all of the demons don't accept my soul at all.

~At night~

Today it is my last hope to see if I can get a deal so I can bring Dean back, I did the whole ritual and waited for a demon to show up, I was losing my hope when I felt someone behind me and I turn to see him.

" Hello darling, you come to daddy," he said and I just looked at him and recognize him, "Crowley?" I said and he smiled at me, "so my demons said that my special one was trying to make a deal" he said and I rolled my eyes at him, "I'm not your special one Crowley. You should know that I don't like you" I said crossing my arms, "C' mon darling you do like me admit it" he said and I just looked at him, "yeah maybe the size of a mustard seed. But why the King of Hell is here instead of your minions, huh" I said and he raised his eyebrows, "well Darling you see, your soul has something special that I would like to have and I wasn't going let them have it, so I told them to not made any deals with you until I was able to come to make it" he said, "can you bring him back?" I asked him and he gave me a bitch face, "of course Darling, but in exchange for something" he said looking at me up and down, "what do you want in exchange for bringing him back?" I said as he started to walk around me, "you see as the King of Hell I need to have a Queen, and who would it be the best Queen that one of the most feared female hunters, that has a special soul like yours" he said licking his lips and I really wanted to puke, "Dean gets back and I have to go with you to Hell, for how long?" I asked accepting what I had to do, "well that's the thing. Is for eternity" he said and I gulped and looked down, "okay Crowley, where do I sign" I said and he looked surprised, "I thought I had to try to convince you more Darling, but I guess I was wrong" he said and I just wanted to finish this, "cut the shit Crowley and let's do this" I said and he took a step forward, "you have to kiss me Darling to seal the deal and your Ken doll would be back just like we said" he said and I took a deep breath and when I was about to step forward to kiss him my phone started to ring and I knew it was Sam for his ringtone, I stopped Crowley. "I have to answer this first," I said and took a step back.

"yes Sam," I said and Crowley looked at me, "he's alive Y/n!, alive!" he said and I couldn't understand what he mends, "what? who is alive?" I said and Crowley raised his eyebrows and looked away from me, "Dean, he just arrived with Bobby at the Bunker. He-he-he is truly him Y/n" he said and I felt that all the blood was drained from my body, "Sa-Sam don't play with me please" I begged him as tears started to blurry my vision, "sweetheart is me is really me please come back I missed you" I heard that voice that I've been missing for months and I dropped my phone to the ground as tears ran down my face. I pick it up and walked towards my car, "what about the deal?!" Crowley screams at me, "forget it you lied to me!" I said as I drove off.

Dean's POV:

It's been about 7 hours since we talked to Y/n and I just wanted to hold her and tell her that everything will be okay, and that I was never going to leave here ever again.

The 3 of us were at the kitchen, but soon it was just me cause the 2 of them left.

I wasn't gonna go and wait there so I decided to go to our room and sat down on the bed waiting, but I couldn't help to wonder all the bad things that can happen to her, to me, to us. I couldn't help but cry and wipe my tears as more started to run. I listen to footsteps it seemed that someone was running but I didn't bother to look at the person that enter my room, "Dean?" I heard a broken voice said and I felt my heart pump faster and I turn to see her. I stand up and run to her and picked her up on my arms as she wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist, "thank God you are here" she said as she held me closer and I did the same. I kissed her slowly showing her all the love and how much I missed her.

I felt that I was complete again I put her down and grabbed her face and kissed her again and again, " I love you, Dean, you don't know how hard it was" she said as tears started to ran down her eyes and I wiped them with my thumb, "please baby tell me that you didn't make a deal please" I said and she looked down and took a deep breath, "I tried so many times, but none wanted to accept, well until tonight. But I said no cause Sam called" she said as she tries to smile at me with her teary eyes. I stopped holding my breath as I hear her said that I was really glad that she didn't and that we didn't have to be concern about how much time did we had left together. I kissed her again, "we need both of you at the library," Sam said making both of us break the kiss.

When we were walking towards the library Y/n was holding me close, just like the day that she almost lost Scott, I looked down and kissed her head and smile at her just like she did. We soon arrived and we saw someone standing in the middle with a trenchcoat, "who are you?" I asked, " Castiel" the guy answer and I moved Y/n behind me, "Yeah, I figured that much, I mean what are you?" I asked again as he kept looking staring at me, "I'm an Angel of the Lord" he answers, "Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing" I said and I felt Y/n move, "This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith. Unlike her she did and thanks to her faith I brought you back" he said and I was about to say something but Y/n beat me to it, " I know you, I-I saw you on town I bumped into you, but... you are using the guy as you meat suit" she said stepping forward, "He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this" he answers and the lights started to flash and we were able to see his wings all of us took steps back but Y/n stayed in place even when I try to pull her, "so you are really an angel Castiel" she said and he nodded and step forward towards her and try to reach for her, but I saw her flinch, "I would never hurt you Y/n. You and Dean were chosen by God to accomplish his plan" he said as he caresses her face, "what plan?" Sam asked, "I have to go," he said and he disappears as we hear a flop of wings and Y/n just stays there not able to move and I move in front of her and snap my fingers and she shook her head and blinked, "what happens? where did he go?" she asked confused, "he had to go" Sam answer and I just embrace her and she did the same and I started to kiss her but soon it turns into something more, so I picked her up and I walked straight to my room and shut the door, "WE WILL BE ON THE BAR DEAN, IF BOTH NEED US!!" Sam scream and I really didn't care I just wanted to show her how much I missed her.

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jmeddows2 · 5 years

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Everything I do, I do it for you (Roger Taylor x Reader)

It’s now time to give @veriloquently my present for ‘A night at the fandom’. Be prepared for a 2,6k+ fic filled with lots of fluff (some may even call it cringe, so sorry about that).I also tried to create a visual for some of the scenes which you can catch on the ‘moodboard’ :) anyways,I gave it a go, I hope you’ll like it - your secret santa @dtfrogertaylor ps: I’m sorry for any mistakes/weird grammar, english is not my first language, but I’m always trying my best :) Summary: It’s 1971. You’re John Deacon’s roommate, he joins a band, read for for more ;)

“Y’know, I’ll never get your taste of music“ startled as you were applying some makeup,when a quick glance in the mirror in front of you revealed Roger peeking into the room. Being John Deacons roommate was everything you could have ever wished for, it was very relaxing in fact. He was kind, attentive, strong, sane and quiet, so there were no wild college parties that could have kept you awake at night. John was also one of the most intelligent and independent people you’d have ever known and also witty and not as afraid of speaking up, once he warmed up to you. He was a morning person, even woke you up in time when he noticed you might oversleep and of course,the table always already decorated with breakfast every single morning, which he prepared beforehand. John was very fond of the football club ‘Queen’s Park Rangers’, but another passion of his was music. He wasn’t entirely obsessed with it though, so it surprised you when he told you about auditioning to be the bass player of a band, which you couldn’t quite believe at first, until he introduced you to his new band mates about two weeks ago. Freddie, the lead singer was somehow like John. He was shy at first, but as soon as he was on stage, Freddie turned into something else. He had the audience in the palm of his hand, which most people didn’t even realize at that time. Brian was the most caring one of them, he accidently stepped on your foot helping you reach for something on the top shelf of your kitchen and kept apologizing for two weeks afterwards, because the guilt was eating him alive. Oh Brian. And then there was Roger, the most annoying person you’d ever encountered. He was nosy and had been hanging out in John and your flat every single day now, since you’d first met. John even got quite annoyed by it, but didn’t have the heart to tell him off yet. “What do you want, Roger?” you spat playfully at him. He didn’t answer, instead he stepped into your room, admiring the posters of artists he wasn’t familiar with, or simply despised. Rock’N’Roll was the only thing that mattered to Roger, it was basically running through his veins. Almost causing him to abandon his own biology studies because of music, as he only ever started revising a week before big exams. “Who even listens to that? Or these hippies” he took a step toward the poster and squinted his eyes “Fleetwood Mac pfff” “Alright blind melon Taylor, are you done? Then leave!” you pointed towards the door. “Ok, I deserved that” he stepped back hopping onto your bed making a few of the pillows fall to the ground, as he was digging through some of your magazines that were lying on the bed, while constantly cringing because of the record that was playing in the background. You continued doing your make up. Being completely lost in thoughts, you didn’t even notice Roger staring, as he was lying on his tummy watching you intently apply some makeup along the waterline of your eye. “You’re really good at that huh?” Roger said with his elbows on the bed, hands rested under his chin as he admired you and you looked at him through the mirror in front of you when he continued: “uh with the makeup stuff. I’m sure John told you about our first gig that’s happening pretty soon? and I uhh.. Could you maybe do my makeup for it?” His sudden nervous being made you smile, as he had always been rather cocky, but you agreed to do it anyway. “Now let’s see what else you got there” he jumped up to roam through your collection of records, expecting him to pick one from the few (hard) rock albums you owned which were ‘worthy’ of his time. Once he found the right one, he placed it on the record player and put the needle on. The record started spinning and Roger watched you, waiting for a reaction on your face when a voice started saying: “Fellas, I'm ready to get up and do my thing I wanna get into it, man, you know I wanna get into it, man, you know Like a, like a sex machine, man, Movin', doin' it, you know Can I count it off? (Go ahead)” Then the music started. Get Up I Feel Like Being a Sex Machine by James Brown. He wiggled his eyebrows at you as your serious gaze turned into a smile. “Roger” “Hey, it’s not my record” he laughed. “I think I could get into your style of music” winking at you “I’m only kidding” He nudged your side and serious look was painted on his face. Roger was just inches away from your face when suddenly the door burst open. John. “oh uhm dinner’s ready” he awkwardly stumbled out of the room. “Did he come on to you or something?” John asked handing you another plate to dry off with the cloth in your hand, doing the dishes. Roger had dinner with John and you, but the awkward silence continued throughout,until he left. “You know, I don’t have to join the band, especially when it includes a guy creeping on my best friend or not treating her right” John continued, scrubbing another plate clean. Reassuring him was quite easy, at least you thought so, but John made sure to keep an eye on him every time Roger came over, or when you joined their band rehearsals. Every time Roger came over. Not a single day passed, where the blonde boy didn’t knock on your door. It was odd. He started making up little excuses for coming over. One time he claimed that his oven was broken and he couldn’t make something to eat, that’s why you thought he was just trying to scrounge around, looking for free food. Your assumptions turned out to be wrong though, when he called wanting to come over to study for uni, because there apparently had been a construction site right below the window of his living room. Of course it was a lie, which quickly proved itself when he turned up without any textbooks on him and joined John and you in watching some movies instead. It was 10pm and you were asleep, still able to make out some quiet noises from the tv, with your head on Roger’s shoulder, his arm around your shoulder resting on your back, the feeling of his soft, warm skin on your cheek and your nose lightly brushing against his soft, long hair, taking in his scent. It was a mixture of nicotine and faint cologne and it fit his whole persona. Your hand was resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. Your heart clenched when he brought his other hand to your cheek, drawing circles on it with the rough pad of his thumb. Tracing along the features of your face, he audibly sighed: “If only you’d feel the same way”, continuing he brought his free hand to your long, dark hair to caress it. His soft touches were enough to make you relax and cuddle even further into his chest. “She still asleep?” John whispered from the kitchen, as he prepared a final ‘good night’ tea for him and Roger. “Yeah” “You can stay over, wouldn’t wake her now though if you want to continue staying alive” John chuckled thinking about how you weren’t a morning person at all, the complete opposite to him, as he sipped away his tea Roger smiled, thinking about how it would feel to wake up next to you, having you wake up in his arms, when John brought him back down to earth: “I see the way you’re always looking at her. Listen, Roger we haven’t known each other for very long now, but I know that look! I’m sure she’s the only reason you’re always over, but she’s not another conquest!” John said in a serious tone, almost warning his new band member. “Don’t play with her if you don’t mean it! She’s a special girl! One of the kindest, most beautiful people inside and out I’ve ever met!” both taking a sip from their tea. “I doubt she’d like me anyway, so you don’t have to worry, Deaky” Roger took a front strand of your hair, softly twirling it around his finger, then releasing it while his eyes were fixed on your face, admiring your beauty. “Better be telling the truth, Rog, or else I’ll have to punch you in the face. I wouldn’t be so sure about her not liking you though” John got up, reaching for both empty mugs. “Quite like the new nickname. Deaky.” John smiled wishing him goodnight. You could have sworn that it was all just a dream when a soft snoring into your ear woke you up. Roger. His arm draped over your waist, legs tangled with yours holding you tight. You were in your own bed now, as he had carried you all the way to your bedroom and and you kind of felt like a little kid again, that’s been carried there by their parents. The thought alone made you smile, so you pulled back a little to get a full view of his beautiful face. Roger was still wearing his jeans, but no shirt. He wasn’t really muscular at all, while his soft dark blond hair fell in waves to his shoulders, a few locks hanging in his face. You decided to carefully brush it out with your hands and the goal not to wake him up, without success. He slowly opened his shining blue eyes and you pulled back. “Good morning” he mumbled with a smile on his face, quite unsure of how to handle the situation without making you feel uncomfortable, removing his hand from your waist. “Morning” you were staring at the ceiling, trying to hide the fact you’d been staring at him, your heart beating fast, then looking back at him again. “You didn’t have to carry me here last night” “Wasn’t going to let you have a sore back, love, besides, it’s not very gentleman like leaving a beautiful lady on an uncomfortable couch” he smiled. “well, thanks, Roger” you placed your hand on his bare chest, leaving it there a little longer than intended, when his eyes dropped down to look at your hand, then back to your lips, biting his own. Roger slowly leaned forward to put a gentle kiss on your lips when you pulled back with concern. “I have morning breath” you managed to say. “I don’t care” he placed another kiss on your lips “but you have it as well” you laughed. This time he pulled back, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink, but you couldn’t resist him anymore. Reassuring him that he was fine, you moved on top of him, crashing your lips against his, earning a moan when your hands found its way into his messy hair, his hand placed on your hip and mouths moving in perfect sync. Since then you decided to keep your little affair? Hook-ups? private. You didn’t even know how to define it, but it was hard to hide your affection/cravings for one another. It was especially harder when the other boys were around, for example when you were doing his makeup for their first ever gig, not trying to get caught when he shamelessly placed kisses on to your face, every time you leaned forward with your makeup brush. It all changed when one night Roger invited you over to his flat for dinner. Opening the door it revealed him in a black shirt that was halfway unbuttoned and black trousers with little white bows along the outside of each leg. He greeted you with a passionate kiss, handing you a little bouquet of roses, then leading you into his flat. “That was just the first present of the night.” He winked. “Food’s going to be finished in a second, but first” he quickly disappeared into another room, only to arrive seconds later with a ball of fluff in his arms. “This is Dusty, my neighbour’s cat” he held the cat’s paw out for your hand to take and greet him . It was hilarious, yet adorable. His loving way of patting the cat oh so lightly made your heart clench. . “They asked me to watch him while they’re in Australia, visiting their family” he continued patting its head, but suddenly remembered the food on the stove. You took the cat from him when he headed off into the kitchen. “I didn’t know what you’d rather enjoy so I made two different meals, number one an Alfredo chicken bake and number two a pumpkin and spinach cannelloni” after placing the plates on the table, you were digging into your food, not expecting Roger to be that much of a decent cook. The dining table was also beautifully and romantically decorated with a vase of roses and tiny heart shaped décor all over the table making it seem like Valentine’s Day, and 100 percent unlike Roger. Dusty jumped on the chair right next to you, also joining in on dinner , when Roger grabbed a tiny plate to put some chicken on it for him. “Maybe we could also adopt a cat? Or a dog? “Roger asked looking up to read your reaction. “ I love animals, but dogs own my heart.” You admitted with your mouth full of food, bringing your hand to your mouth, trying to cover it. “I thought I owned your heart, do I have some competition here?” Roger cheekily smiled. “Y’know we’d make great dog parents” he continued, shoving yet another fork into his mouth. His comment made you blush considering you’d been ‘together’ for about three months now, but eventually talking about ‘children’ even if it was just in the form of animals. “Never took you for such an amazing cook, Rog” you hugged him from behind placing a kiss on his neck as he placed the plates into the sink. “I’ll take it as a compliment, but now moving on to the next surprise.” Roger took your hand leading you into the living room. “I know I’ve been giving you quite a heart time about your taste of music but..” “Roger” you interrupted. “No, please, let me finish.” He took your hands into his, looking deep into your eyes “as I said, your taste in music.. It’s different, but so are you” brushing your hair behind your ear “ you make me such a happy man, supporting me no matter what, being always there. You were putting up with me when I was being an annoying shit, trying to get your attention. That’s why I’m asking you now. Will you be my girlfriend?” he nervously pulled out two tickets from the back pocket of his pants, which happened to be for the Fleetwood Mac show at the Marquee club in the following august. He smiled at you waiting in anticipation for an answer when you pulled him into a tight hug. It was such a sweet gesture. You knew he hated the music, but still got the tickets, knowing they were your favourite band. “Yes, yes ,yes, Roger!” you took his face into your hands and kissed his soft lips passionately. “I love you, Lucy” “I love you too, Roger” And it was true. Roger would do anything for you. He would leave the light on for you, even if it was too bright for him. Listen to records he didn’t like. Take you to concerts of bands he didn’t like. Watch the worst and cheesiest romantic movies. It didn’t matter to him, as long as you were there with him.

#a night at the fandom #roger taylor #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor x reader #John Deacon #Queen #queen + Adam Lambert #Brian May #freddie mercury #fleetwood mac

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readbeneaththelines · 5 years

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Giving Him Control Pt. 7

A/N: No warnings for this chapter

Characters: Ravi x Reader

Warnings: violence, SMUT, slight S&M in the shower

Word Count: 2433

Please remember, this is NSFW. There is the Dom/Sub aspect of the characters, so if that is a trigger, please proceed at your own discretion.

cr. to gif owner

The dance club was packed, the line stretching around the corner. Ravi took you to the front of the line, greeting the bouncer then stepping you both inside. You looked between them, perplexed. The interior was brightly colored, the vaulted ceiling had various colored chandeliers hanging from it. The voices of the latest Kpop artists flowed from the speakers. The crowd consisted of twenty and early thirty something people, eating at large tables or dancing on the mirrored dance floor. He directed you to the bar, pulling a stool out for you to sit on. THe bartender came over, greeting Ravi with enthusiasm.

“Hello boss, what brings you here tonight? Oh, and who is this stunning lady here?’, he asked glancing you over.

“Hello, Kai. I just wanted to see how things were going on our first full weekend. This is Y/N, Y/N this is Kai. There is no better bartender than this fella here.”, he patted Kai’s shoulder across the bar.

“Hello, nice to meet you.”, you said, while looking at Ravi surprised.

“Same here, but better get back before the boss changes his mind.”, he nodded to you both then headed off.

Spinning in your seat, you turned Ravi to face you.He looked startled, then eased up seeing it was you.

“You own this club? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You never asked. Yes I own this club, Octagon, and three ramen restaurants. Oh and I also own Platform Place.”

You mouth hung open, eyes blinking at what he told you. No wonder his place was so big and he always had the nicest clothes. But, you asked yourself, if he controlled so many other things, why did he still feel the need to control his relationships?

Your questions, of course, would probably stay unanswered. He had his reasons, and you weren’t technically in a serious relationship, so you couldn’t ask him. Instead, you just sat in your seat, taking in all he told you.

He sensed your uneasiness, placing a hand on your shoulder. Other patrons came to the bar to greet Ravi, you smiling politely as he introduced you. After several minutes passed, he took you to the dance floor. The instant his arm was around you, his eyes focusing on yours, you were lost again. The world disappeared around you, his face the only thing you could see. You swayed your body in time with his, melding into his embrace. The music had ended, but you were still on the floor. He shook his head, breaking eye contact. You were brought back to reality in a flash, your cheeks heating from his stare.

Leading you off the floor, he returned you to your seat. He told you that he had to step away for a bit and take care of some business in the office. He promised to return quickly, telling you to order dinner for both of you while he was away. Picking up a menu, you were searching through the selections when you heard an unfamiliar male’s voice your ear. Looking over, a young man was leaning against the bartop, drunken eyes mentally undressing you.

“Excuse me Miss. I saw you dancing earlier, and I was wanting to ask you for a dance.”, his words slurred.

“No thank you, I am here with my date.”, you dismissed him politely.

“Well, I don’t see him around, so maybe just one dance?”, he persisted.

“I said no, now please excuse yourself.”, your tone rising.

The man grabbed your arm, tugging harshly at it, making you fall partially off your seat.

“Please, let me go! I told you no, now get your hands off of me.”

The man continued to hold you in his grasp, causing a scene around you. There was a hand over his, prying the young man’s fingers backwards. At the same instant, a royal blue arm came across your field of vision, snapping the drunk’s head to the side.. Ravi repeatedly hit the man’s face, rage in his eyes. You called his name, trying to get his attention.

“Ravi! Stop, your going to kill him!”, you screamed at him, but to no avail.

The younger man was now on the floor, face bloodied and split. Ravi still wouldn’t stop.

“How dare you touch her, you son of a bitch?! She told you no. Don’t fucking touch her again!”

You had to find a way to stop him, before her murdered the man. Without a second thought, you placed your hand to his chest, pushing him back. What happened next, you never would have suspected. He froze, mid swing, wild blank eyes slowly turning towards you. Fear filled you when his vision settled on you. He was looking through you, his trembling hand, pushing your own hand from his chest. Encircling your neck, he held you at arm’s length, a slight pressure in his fingertips. Putting your fingers around his wrists, you spoke softly to him.

“It’s me. Look at me. Just look at me.”, you pleaded gently.

The cloud lifted from his vision, his hand around your neck registering. Jerking away, he began surveying the scene around him. People were gathered around, phone cameras starting to flash as people talked. You grabbed his hand, pulling him from the growing crowd to his office. You pushed him inside, locking the door behind you. He was standing, still wide eyed, not moving.

“Ravi, what possessed you to beat that man to a pulp? I had it under control.”

“He laid his fucking hands on you! You are mine. I am the only one allowed to put their hands on you!”, his face turned red as he yelled at you.

“Dammit Ravi, you nearly killed him! That was way over the line of protecting your property!”, you threw your hand over your mouth as soon as the words came out.

“Is that what you see yourself as, to me? My property?”

“I don’t know right now. All I know is that you scared me, just then. Do you even realize you nearly choked me too?”

He snapped his head up, looking to your neck. Sure enough there were fingerprints around the sides of your neck. They were still red, but he could tell they would bruise later. He was on his feet in an instant, striding over to stand before you. He lowered his head, not wanting to look at you.

“I remember you touching me, touching where it’s off limits. I warned you.”, his eyes still focused on the floor.

“It was the only way I knew to make you stop. I had to do something. I’m sorry.”

You ducked your head, trying to get him to look at you. He just kept turning his head, avoiding you.

Let me take you home. We can leave out the back if you want-”, a knock at the door interrupted you.

Asking who it was, Kai told you he needed to speak with Ravi. You opened the door part way, giving him just enough room to slide in. Locking the door you motioned for him to go ahead.

“Boss, the cops are here, they are wanting to speak to you.”

“Send them in.”

A few minutes passed before the police entered the room. They got your statement, Kai’s, and finally Ravi’s. Thankfully, they let him go, telling you that if they had any further questions, they would contact you. Thanking them, you showed them out, turning to Ravi again.

“Let’s go. I’m getting you out of here, now.”

Kai led you to the back entrance, locking up after you left. You took the keys from his pocket, unlocking the doors and half-shoving him in the passenger seat. Hopping in the driver side, you gunned the car, making it back in record time. You drug him inside and up the stairs, stripping the blood covered clothes off. When he was down to just his underwear, you pulled him to the shower, shoving him under the steaming water. When he just stood there, you stripped down, joining him. You grabbed the loofah, squirting his bodywash on it and scrubbing the caked blood off his hands.

Something ignited in his eyes while you were washing him. You felt him grab your arms, pushing you against the shower wall. You yelped in surprise, dropping the loofah as he raised your hands above your head.

“You touched me without my permission. For that I am going to have to teach you a lesson.”

Beads of water fell down your face, hiding your eyes from his. You weren’t sure what he had planned, but from the tone of his voice and the severity of your transgression, had you fearing for the worse. While holding your arms up with one hand, he felt around on the shelf for something.

“Close your eyes, and keep them closed til I say so.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, your heart racing faster since you couldn’t see what he was doing. Then you felt something being wrapped around your wrist and then the sound of metal hitting together. He did the same thing to the other wrist, effectively cuffing you to the wall. You were splayed out for him in all your nakedness. So, the rings are for tying you up, you quickly thought. Eyes still shut tightly, you began to shake with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation.

Spread your legs, Y/N. I want you to keep them open wide for me. If you move or open those pretty eyes before I tell you to, then I will have to start over.. Nod if you understand.”

You nodded slowly, fear gaining on your nerves. You felt something cold and thin being ran across your wet bare flesh on your thigh to your bottom. The swish of rapid moving air and then a sharp sting across your left buttcheek invaded your senses. You clamped your eyes tighter, biting your lip to keep from whimpering. You knew you broke one of his most important rules for you. You knew you deserved to be reprimanded, but just how far would he take it?

Another drawn out glide of that strap across your inner leg, then the swoosh and smack of it hitting your inner thigh. This time you couldn’t help but cry out, tears threatening to spill over. You remembered that if you moved, he would start over, that thought keeping you glued to your spot. The glide, swish, smack pattern continued across various parts of your exposed body. Every few times, he would run his hand where he had smacked, rubbing soft tender circles over the reddened skin. The kneading of your stinging flesh sent shivers up your spine. You were shocked at your reaction to this maddening pattern. You let your head fall back on the tiled wall, your closed eyes now more relaxed. You felt your own pleasure rising from his punishment. The slick wetness between your legs began to slip down your inner thigh, your legs twitching from need. You inner walls began to clench firmly, searching for something to ease the want building in your core. A moan passed your lips, a whimper here and there when his fingers caressed heated skin.

When he had decided you had learned your lesson, he dropped his strap to the ground. Hands ran up and down your overly sensitive flesh, digging at your hips as he lifted you off the ground. You legs encircled his waist, your hands still tied to the wall.

“Y/N, you are so fucking wet for me. Did you enjoy my punishment?”

You simply rolled your head forward. He took your chin and lifted your head up.

“Open your eyes baby, I want to watch you as you cum all over my cock. I want you to see me when I cum for you, coating those walls deep inside of you.”

His words made your pussy even wetter, rolling your hips to find the tip of his full and thick cock. Taking hold of your hips once more, he steadied your body. He raised you up just enough to line himself up with your slick coated entrance. With a hard and forceful thrust he drove into you deep. It was hard enough to push your back into the wall, the cold making you tremble against the contrast of hot water spraying over you. He never slowed his pace, ramming into you hard and fast. You felt the electricity growing somewhere low in your stomach, the slight tinge of pain from him driving in hard mixed with the feel of him rubbing small circles on your clit with his thumb, his pace not faltering. You grasped the straps holding you up, knuckles white.

Throwing his head forward, he bit into your shoulder, teeth digging hard into the flesh and muscle. He moaned with each push of his hips, sending you closer to the edge. Feeling his wicked pace change, you could tell he was getting close to his release. You angled you pelvis, tilting it down for more friction. This movement made him hit your sweet spot every time, your breath hitching.

That glorious feeling of electricity shocked through you body, velvet walls clamping around his wide girth. The pressure engulfing him brought his own orgasm full circle. With a final thrust, he dug into your hips, stilling any movement from you. Warmth filled you, coating your walls completely. Your legs fell from around his waist, barely holding your weight up.

As he slid out of you, he turned to grab the shower head. Rinsing your body first, he aimed the shower head between your thighs. Your hypersensitive and swollen clit ached from the shooting jetstream. When you were sufficiently cleaned off, he unlatched the cuffs from your wrists. You fell against his frame, legs unable to hold you erect any longer. His arms engulfed you, keeping you securely in place. He kissed your head, whispering soothing words against your hair.

He finished showering, washing your body from head to toe, muscles twitching with each swipe of the sponge. A sharp intake of air garnered your attention. Fluttering your eyes open, you found him focused on your neck. The image of him holding your neck, the wild blank look in his eyes, flashed in your mind.

“I-I'm s-sorry about touching your chest.” you managed to say.

“No. You did what you had to. But now you know what can happen when you break the rules. I almost broke another one tonight.”, he shook his head at the thought of seriously harming you.

@aspaceformyself @trapped-inside-my-head @beautifulseoulliar @maxinaptak @seoulsunshineandstories @xjamlessparkx @sugababemyg @kpop-addictedloser @min-shookga-yoongi @agustd-suga-yoongii @astronomyturtle @dreamyoongi @holy-yoongi@trashkazuya @micky1518 @rosiemilas @karri570 @kwonnansi

#vixx ravi #ravi x reader #ravi angst #ravi smut

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scaredbisexual · 5 years

Text

Too Good To Be True| Reddie fic

Summary: I was watching "Can 2 strangers fall in love with 36 questions?" by Jubilee and decided to torture us all with some fluffy fanfiction about it ;) You can thank me later.

Pairing: Reddie mostly, with a bit of Stanlon, Benverly and Bill/Audra

Word Count: 1415

Chapter 1 of of ? (for other chapters check out the “Too Good To Be True” tag on my blog!)

READ ON AO3

PROLOGUE

This was an unusual thing for Eddie to voluntarily meet up with strangers. Especially when he expected for them to become someone important in their life. He was a helpless romantic, yes, but that didn’t change the fact that his social anxiety usually took most of the fun from it. He didn’t go on cute dates, flirt with random guys or even dream about love, at least not as much as he could. There was just something terrifying about dating, about actually making his dreams come true and being happy. It was just like there was some part of him holding a leash and pulling him back every time he came even a bit closer to fulfilling his fantasies about being in love.

Of course, he’s had a lot of crushes, a massive amount one could say. There were celebrities, guys he had passed once while on his morning jog, a cute boy from his favorite coffeehouse and a few ones from work or Tinder. The latter happened more often than once could think. Tinder was a funny way to meet people, harmless one- making him invisible (besides his profile picture) and giving him time to think about an answer. He liked that, it was great to actually don’t have anyone watching him think and squirm in his seat, sweating like a madman that has never been on a date.

But that day was quite different. His best friend, Mike, worked on YouTube and was one of the people responsible for a series of videos about finding love. Not just some videos, but ones where complete strangers were to follow The 36 Questions That Lead to Love from that one The New York Times article. It sounds unbelievable and stupid, but it did work quite a few times and Mike was set on getting Eddie on one of the videos, so he could possibly (hopefully) find his soulmate.

So yeah, cameras, Internet, a ton of people and a complete stranger the ton of people would expect for him to fall in love with. All of the things that Eddie was terrified of, yet, there he was. Walking the New York’s streets, on his way to Mike’s flat where this video was going to take place. Usually they happened in a studio, but it was Eddie’s condition- he wanted somewhere to feel safe, and since his apartment was a big no for strangers, there was no better idea than having it done at Mike’s. After all it was his idea, the boy could suffer a little bit.

Why did he even agree to it? Oh, yeah, because it was Mike’s only wish for his 24th birthday. A good one Hanlon, real good one.

Eddie sighed deeply while standing in front of the door to his best friend’s apartment. He couldn’t run away, just not show up because of the nerves inside of him, but oh boy, did he want to. He looked up at the ceiling, closed his eyes and counted to three before knocking, twice, on Mike’s door. He could hear a muffled “Coming!” and loud footsteps and then there was his friends happy face staring at him.

“Eddie, great! Goodness, I was afraid you would bail!” He laughed, all in a good-natured way, and pulled the smaller boy in for a hug. Eddie groaned but reciprocated the gesture.

“I would if it wasn’t for you fucking wish. You’re unbelievable sometimes, Hanlon,” he scoffed with a small smile tugging at his lips. Mike only laughed in response and pulled him inside.

His place was nice and comfy, with wooden floors and walls painted by their mutual friend, Beverly, which meant it was full of beautiful ornaments and patterns, making the apartment look a little bit livelier. For the shoot all the furniture from his living room had been moved to Mike’s office, leaving only various plants from all over his place and a table with two chairs. There were some candles of the shelves and cute little decorations here and there. If looked nice, with the lights dimmed a tad and the afternoon landscape of New York behind two big windows, covering almost all of the wall.

“Sit right here, we’re still waiting for the second boy. Would you like some tea or coffee?” Mike asked, worry evident on his face. Eddie nodded absentmindedly and murmured out a response. His friend left him then, going to the kitchen to make the beverage. Eddie took a calming breath and took off his jacket, placing it neatly on the sofa. He didn’t bother with taking off his shoes, the image of bare feet of a stranger making him uncomfortable. If he didn’t take his off, then maybe the guy won’t, too?

He took a sit on one of the chairs, the one facing the windows, and tried to calm himself down. Mike came back not long after with a greenish cup of lemon balm tea. Eddie thanked him and took it into his hands, thinking that maybe the temperature would calm his nerves.

Mike still looked hesitant, there were some thoughts in the back of his head that maybe he was wrong, maybe Eddie wasn’t ready for such big, very much social step. He wanted to call it off, tell Eddie that he didn’t have to do it, seeing him so stressed and scared making him feel like the worst friend in the world. But just when he wanted to say the words, there came the loud knocking on his doors.

“That’s probably him,” he murmured and spared the last glance at Eddie before rushing to answer the door.

Eddie suddenly felt even more nervous than he had earlier. He could feel some kind of panic attack coming his way, breath hitching in his throat and tears welling up in his eyes, but no. He was a great best friend, he was going to push himself through it and make Mike happy, whatever it took.

Mike came back exactly two minutes and twenty-four seconds later, not that Eddie counted, and closed the doors to living room behind himself. Eddie furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at his friend. The raising panic stepped aside and made place for curiosity. What was going on? Was something wrong with the guy? Did he see him and decided that it wasn’t worth it? Well yeah, maybe the panic didn’t exactly disappear on a second thought.

“What’s going on?” Eddie finally voiced his concern and stood up.

“Oh, nothing, really, it’s a normal procedure for all of it. Listen, you need to calm yourself, it’s all going to be okay,” Mike was talking in a calm voice, almost a whisper as if he didn’t want the other boy to get scared. Well, more scared. “Okay, focus on what I’m saying right now. There are three cameras, one here-” he pointed at a camera that would catch them both in one shot “-and one on each side of you, so we can clearly see your faces-” he then pointed at the other ones “-okay?”

“Yes Mike, I’m not fucking blind, I can see them.”

“Okay, okay, sorry. The next thing is, you are going to meet for the first time on camera, no introductions earlier. We need to see your genuine reactions. And then we are going to give you guys the questions and leave the room so you can talk in peace. You’ve got all the instructions on the cards.”

Through the monologue Eddie reduced his replies to short “Sure” and “Okay” and “Yeah, got it” at the end. He still felt a lot of fear at the thought of staying in a room alone with a complete stranger but Mike told him that they could see on their laptop what was going on in the room and that he would step in if Eddie waved at the camera. It was their kind of a safe word.

“Okay, let’s get over with it.”

Eddie was sitting on his chair, listening as Mike told the other boy the same things, that he told him. It took about three minutes but felt like eternity. Finally, one of the camera men told him that they were going to start and he left the room.

“Hi, hello my dear fella, it’s Richie Tozier, up for any of your wishes,” he heard from behind him. He looked straight at the camera and raised his eyebrow, giving himself a small The Office moment, and murmured:

“Fucking seriously?”

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medics-secret-shipfic-folder · 5 years

Text

A Little Confession

A SniperxDemo oneshot

“Hey, Demo, could you bring this to Sniper?” Engineer asked, handing a plate of food to Demo, “He should be outside,”

Engineer returned to the table after the exchange, making everyone’s plates for dinner that night. The smell of southern cooking was strong, stronger than most of the other dinners that the mercenaries prepared when it was their turn to cook. Everyone was already seated at the table, mindless chatter filling the kitchen up with noise. Sniper was the only one not present for the meal. Adjusting his grip on the plate to not burn himself, Demo ambled outside.

Sniper preferred to be alone, that much was true. Although he seemed to get antsy when people chocked that up to some kind of shyness, as if being alone in and of itself was some kind of issue that needed correcting. But Sniper didn’t have issues regarding shyness. For God’s sake, a cocky man such as himself had no shame. If walking out in front of the rest of his team completely naked was any indicator. Sniper was just an introvert, simple as. Sure, he did have anxieties, but he’d mostly dealt with them and learned how to handle the stress when it did arise. Sniper could handle himself.

Demo squinted into the night, only the light of the full moon giving him any kind of aid. Sighing, he carefully walked down the steps and sauntered over to what he guessed to be the silhouette of Snipers van. It was relatively warm out, and crickets sang their annoying song somewhere wherever there were patches of grass.

“Demo! Ya left the door open!” Scout called from the base, followed by a slam. Demo rolled his eye and walked around to the back of the van and knocked. No answer. Demo tried again. No answer yet again.

“Sniper! It’s time to eat!”

“Just bring it up mate,” Sniper said from somewhere above. Demo took a step back from the van and peered up. He couldn’t see Sniper, but he was up there. Demo grumbled and felt for the ladder next to the door, balancing the plate on the tips of his fingers as he clambered up.

“Engineer cooking tonight?” Sniper asked, thumping sounding from the top of the van as Sniper moved.

“Yep,” Demo grunted.

“I can tell. I smell gravy,” Sniper said jokingly. Demo snickered, taking another step and slipping, giving a loud yelp when he nearly fell. He wedged himself against the bars of the ladder and frantically tried to keep the plate balanced. Sniper laughed from above.

“Need some help?” He snickered.

“Yeah, help me up,” he strained. Sniper popped his head out from over the roof of the van and extended a hand down, helping Demo haul himself up. Demo slid the plate onto the roof and scooted himself to where he could sit down. Sniper plopped down in front of him and took the plate, pulling it into his lap and shaking his head, laughing.

“Is there anything that Engineer cooks that isn’t swimming in gravy?” he chuckled, “I mean, I ain’t complaining,”

“I’ll take Engie’s cooking over Pyro’s any day,” Demo said, scratching at his beard.

“What was Pyro even trying to make last night?”

“I think Engie said it was supposed to be pancakes,”

“More like burnt hockey discs,” Sniper laughed, “I love Pyro, but they cannot cook. Then again I ain’t much better,”

“You burned everybody’s mouths off the last time you cooked!”

“Yeah. It didn’t occur to me that maybe not everyone liked jalapeños,”

“Oh you didn’t add just jalapeños! You sent Heavy to the infirmary!”

“Ok I might have added some Ghost Peppers…And some California Reapers, and a few Trinidad Scorpions…” He said sheepishly, “Which are…some of the spiciest peppers in the world,” He mumbled.

“Oh my God, Sniper,” Demo said, pressing his hand to his forehead, “You’re not allowed to cook anymore,”

“Fair enough,” Sniper shrugged, inspecting his food, “Chicken, biscuits, and macaroni tonight? Nice,” He said. He scooped up a biscuit and went to take a bite, but the moment it hit his mouth he pulled back with a shout, fanning his mouth with his hand.

“Ah! That’s hot!” Demo threw his head back and laughed.

“Yeah that’s what ye get!” He chortled. Sniper dropped the biscuit back onto the plate and grumbled. He set the plate aside.

“I’m just gonna…Let that cool down,” He said. Demo chuckled and shook his head.

“Why are you out here anyway lad?” He asked, leaning back. Sniper jabbed a thumb upwards.

“Stargazing,” he answered bluntly. Demo squinted upwards.

“It’s too foggy to see anything,” He sighed.

“Foggy?” Sniper quizzed, turning his gaze upward, “Huh, that’s weird, the sky was clear just a moment ago. Ah, nevermind,” He shrugged.

“Do you like to stargaze?”

“‘Like?’ Heh, it was the only thing I ever did back home!” He laughed, “I’d get up on my dad’s chicken coup every night and watch the sky. Well, at least until my mum yelled at me to get down before I broke my neck,” “Did ye ever fall off?”

“Once,”

“So she was right in tellin’ ya to stay on the ground!”

“Ah, no! I didn’t break my neck!”

Demo cocked an eyebrow.

“But I…Did break my arm…” Demo snickered. Sniper shook his head and laughed with him. Sniper reached over and felt his food. It had cooled down enough for him to eat, he judged. He pulled the plate back into his lap and lifted the biscuit to try to eat again.

“You really like Engie’s cooking,” Demo observed.

“It reminds me of home,” Sniper mumbled through a mouthful of bread, “Is there a napkin I can use?”

“Under the plate,”

“Thanks,” Sniper muffled, wiping his mouth. Sniper went to scoop up another biscuit when he felt something wet land on his head. He ruffled his hair and looked up. Another droplet fell on his nose. Demo glanced up with him and extended a hand out. A few droplets fell on his hand.

“Wha-”

A crack of lightning and a loud, booming clap of thunder interrupted him, making them both jolt upright in terror. Immediately after, it started pouring down raining. Within seconds they were both soaked to the bone. A sudden gale wind rocked the van, sending the two scrambling down to get inside. The rain had created a thick veil that made it impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction. Another clap of thunder sounded, even louder this time. Sniper violently pried open the back door and threw himself into the van, Demo falling after him. Sniper rolled over and forced the door shut against fierce winds, everything becoming eerily quiet when he shut out the elements. Sniper heaved for breath and leaned against the door, Demo sprawled out on the floor.

“Well that was certainly something,” Sniper huffed, shakily getting up, the cold already beginning to set in. Demo rolled over and stared wide eyed at the ceiling.

“There wasn’t supposed to be a storm today!” He shouted, sitting up. The van rocked again, and a gust of wind whistled by.

“Mother Nature doesn’t give a shit about what is and isn’t supposed to happen” Sniper said, exasperated, wiping his face, “And clearly didn’t give a shit about my dinner,” He muttered.

“Sorry about that,” Demo apologized, rubbing his neck.

“It’s alright. I have food in the fridge,” he said, gesturing to a small fridge lodged underneath a massive row of terrariums filled with a whole assortment of insects and other small animals. Sniper sighed and picked at his clothes.

“I need to change,” he said, talking to himself. He ambled over to what appeared to be a dresser and unfolded a handful of clothes from it. He set them aside on top of the dresser and began to undress. Demo awkwardly turned around to give him some privacy, even if Sniper didn’t mind being seen naked. He turned around and watched the insects instead. He stood there awkwardly for several minutes, listening as Sniper removed his clothes. His grumbling at the squelching fabric was admittedly fun to listen to.

Demo leaned down and tapped the glass case of a strange, spider-like insect just as Sniper finished slipping into his new clothes. There was a plop when he dumped the wet clothes into a nearby laundry basket. He walked up beside Demo.

“What the Hell is that thing?” He asked, pointing at the creature. Sniper squinted down at what he was pointing at.

“Tailless Whip Scorpion,” he said. The insect turned to Demo, raising up it’s claw like arms at him. Demo shuddered, feeling goosebumps crawl up his arms and legs.

“It’s fucking creepy is what it is,”

“Aw, please. These things are harmless,” He laughed. The scorpion was still for a moment, and then jumped at the glass, making a tink noise. Demo just about fell over when he jumped back. Sniper laughed at his panic. Demo ran his hands up and down his arms, now beginning to feel things crawling over him.

“Those are the spawns of Satan!” Sniper laughed again.

“Then i’m the shepard!” Demo shuddered again. Sniper shook his head and reached into a terrarium away from the insects.

“Here, I don’t think this fella will scare ya,” He said, rummaging around some sand before pulling out a small round frog with stumpy legs and a noticeable grumpy face. It looked at Demo and made a tiny squeaking noise, somehow making an even grumpier face.

“It’s a Desert Rain Frog! Although Medic likes to call ‘em the Grump Frog,” Sniper laughed. He took the frog and pinched it between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a light squeeze. The frog made another squeaking noise, grabbing at Snipers fingers. Sniper giggled.

“They’re my favorite, if ya can’t tell,” Sniper said, palming the creature. Demo squinted at the animal and grinned when it waved its stumpy arms at him.

“Hehe, your a cute thing alright,” He giggled, gently rubbing its head. Sniper curled his fingers around the animal and gently placed it back in the terrarium, taking a spray bottle and spritzing the sand with enough moisture for the tiny amphibian. Demo gazed over the rest of the glass cases, once again getting a jittery feeling from the abundance of nightmarish insects. He went rigid when he looked up.

A giant, yellow tarantula was pressed against the glass, it’s massive fangs hanging down and poised to strike. The skeleton of a bird was curled up in the corner. Demo could hear the spider hissing, and he felt his mouth go dry.

“I-Isn’t that the same spider that tried to eat Medics doves?” He croaked, stepping back.

“Hm?” Sniper hummed. He looked up to where Demo was pointing, “Oh. Yeah Medic had me come it and get it out of the Infirmary. I’ve kept it since. Isn’t that right Goliath?”

“You named it?”

“You named your sword,”

Demo went silent for a second.

“Eh, fair enough. Just keep that thing away from me,” Sniper shrugged and picked up a semi-small container under the terrariums and began feeding his collection. Demo looked around the rest of the van. A ladder led up to Snipers bed, and there was a gap in the wall underneath it, a gap that looked like it held a second bed. A stove was sat directly across from the terrariums, and a small table jutting out from the wall stood beside it, granted with a small counter in between. There were small baskets and boxes piling up with different trinkets and clutter that were shoved into corners and any shelves and cabinets that were open. A few pillows were stuffed against the wall underneath the gap where the second bed was hidden.

Demo walked over to the bed and climbed halfway up the ladder, peering over onto the bed. It was generally bare, save for a few pillows, blankets and a few stuffed animals, surprisingly. A large stuffed frog was resting beside the pillow. It’s green color appeared to have been bleached out from long exposure to the sun, and it didn’t look all that comfortable to cuddle with, as the fabric appeared rough and coarse.

“‘Ey, where’d ya get this?”

“My mum gave it to me when I was little,” Sniper said, tossing a few dead crickets in with his frogs. Demo reached over to touch it. Yep, just as coarse as it looked.

“You sleep with it?”

“Yeah. Slept with it so much that it stopped being fluffy. Heh, I took that thing everywhere with me.”

“Is that why it’s so pale?”

“Yeah. I had it out in the sun almost every day. Took on a toll on the fella,” Demo grabbed the arm of the frog and pulled it forward to get a better look. Turning it over, he saw that a name was written in Sharpie on the back. ‘Hoppi’, it read.

“You named this thing Hoppi?”

“It meant a lot to me,” Sniper said, finishing up with the feeding, “And it still does,”

Demo looked down at the frog and put it back. He stepped down off the ladder just as Sniper was putting away the container. Demo reached into one of the packs on his belt for a flask, but his hand found nothing.

“Aw Hell,”

“What?”

“I don’t have my flask with me,”

“There’s beers in the fridge,” Sniper said, pointing back to the tiny fridge. He walked over to the stove and turned it on while Demo searched for a drink.

He came back up with a beer and plopped down on the pillows under the bed and watched Sniper as he began to cook.

He placed a wok on the burner and went back to the fridge and took out packets of chicken and vegetables, cheekily taking several peppers out with them, some Demo recognized as the peppers that sent Heavy to the infirmary the last time Sniper cooked.

“I don’t know how you eat those,”

“After almost 30 years of sitting under the sun back in Australia, a pepper that turns your mouth into molten lava is nothing, “ Sniper chuckled, setting the chicken on the counter and chopping it up. Demo took a swig of his beer when he felt his stomach roll, reminding him that he hadn’t even eaten anything since breakfast.

“I can make you some of this if ya want,” Sniper offered, jabbing the chicken with the knife.

“What is it?”

“Stir Fry. Dads recipe,”

Demo pondered the offer.

“Make it without peppers and i’ll take ya up on yer offer,” He agreed, grinning. Sniper laughed and tossed the chicken into the wok, now starting on the vegetables.

Demo sat back as he waited, the smell of the food quickly filling the van. He’d never had stir fry, but his mouth was already watering for it. Sniper set out two plates and began pouring Demos food out, stirring it up a bit with a fork before handing it to him. Then he started on his plate. He put on a pair of gloves and started chopping up the peppers. As Demo ate, he felt his eyes begin to water. The chemicals that were being released from the peppers as Sniper cut them were so pungent and strong that Demo had to cover his mouth and eye until Sniper dropped them into the wok.

“Jesus, that’s strong,” Demo coughed, now feeling a sting at the back of his throat.

“Why do ya think I have the gloves?” Sniper said, his own eyes watering, “These things have killed people,”

“Then why are ya eatin’ them!?”

“Hasn’t killed me yet,” Sniper said, a snarky grin spreading across his face. Demo rolled his eye and continued eating.

He poured out his food and sat next to Demo to eat. A few raw jalapeños were on the edge of his plate and he ate with gusto while Demo once again felt a stinging at the back of his throat from the smell of the peppers alone.

As they ate, loud tinks started to be heard from the ceiling. Sniper furrowed his brow and looked up. The sound got louder. Demo looked to the window above the sink and saw white pellets smacking against the glass.

“Hail,” Sniper groaned.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Demo moaned, sharing in Snipers disdain.

“Well we’re not leaving anytime soon,” Sniper sighed.

The two finished their plates and put them away in the sink. Now full, the two of them started lounging around, trying to pass the time with whatever they could. Sniper bounced around from sharpening his knife, watching his insects, and playing with his frogs, and Demo switched around from drinking, messing with books, and screwing together and taking apart pieces of a deactivated bomb he was carrying around. They both tried to simply nap through the storm at several points, but it was clear after several claps of thunder and bouts of strong hail that Mother Nature wasn’t too keen on letting them sleep. After several hours of extreme storms, Sniper eventually gave up and just decided that the best thing to do would be to hang halfway off his bed with a frog on his face with Demo laying face down in the pillows.

“This is ridiculous,” Sniper groaned, the frog on his face licking his glasses.

“I agree,” Demo said, his voice muffled.

“What do ya think the rest of the team is doing?”

“Probably wondering where the fuck we are. Either that or sleeping,”

Sniper rolled over and nearly fell off his bed. He clung to the ladder for support, the frog none too bothered and continuing to lick his glasses. Sniper groaned and sat up, the frog now leaping down onto his chest and clinging to his shirt. Demo propped his elbow up on the pillows and rested his head in his hand.

“Do ya have any games we can play?”

“Nadda,” Sniper sighed. Demo huffed and fell back into the pillows. He stared up at the ceiling when he realized something.

“Wait, do ya hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Exactly. The hail stopped,” Demo said, sitting up. Sniper chewed the inside of his cheek.

“It’s still raining,”

“True,” Demo got up and went to the window and looked outside. He could see nothing but the thick veil the rain was making, “Yeah we’re still not leaving,” He sighed. He looked up and saw Sniper putting away the frog and climbing back up onto his bed, fixing the blankets and sheets.

“Then I guess we’re sleeping together,” Sniper said, “That bed pulls out, you can sleep there,” Sniper pointed down at the gap underneath his bed. Demo went over and grabbed the metal bar that was sticking out and pried the bed out. Sniper handed Demo a blanket and a few pillows for the night.

The two managed to drift off for an hour or so, the rain providing just enough white noise for the two to sleep. After the hour, a clap of thunder woke Demo up. He groaned after the thunder had sounded off. The hail was back. Great. Demo rolled over and sighed. He couldn’t sleep like this. He couldn’t imagine that Sniper was sleeping soundly either. Demo shifted the pillow under his head and tried to get comfortable again.

“Demo, you awake?” Sniper asked from above.

“Yeah. Thunder woke me up,” Demo said, rolling back over.

“Same here,”

Demo couldn’t see Sniper, but he could hear the man above him roll over.

“What kind of storm even is this?”

“The kind that doesn’t want us to leave,”

Sniper softly chuckled. The two went silent again, nothing but the storm raging outside to stop things from going deafeningly silent. Demo looked around.

“How do you even sleep? You don’t have a fan or anything to make some noise,” Demo asked. Pretty much everyone he knew couldn’t sleep without some kind of white noise going on in the background. He looked back up and saw Sniper pointing at the terrariums.

“They make all the noise I need,”

Demo leaned over and listened closely to the insects and amphibians. Sure enough, he could faintly hear chirps and croaks from behind the glass.

“Ah,” He said softly. There was rustling from above again, and the two went silent.

Demo lightly tapped the edge of the bed, trying to bore himself into sleep. He rolled over again to face the wall.

“Hey, Demo?”

“Mhm?”

“…Thanks for spending time with me,”

Demo raised his head up to Snipers bed and chewed his lip. It’s not like he had much of a choice. The storm had forced him into the van. But he had to admit, he did enjoy hanging around Sniper.

“It’s no bother to me,” He said. There was more shuffling, and then a loud sigh.

“Demo, you know how I say ‘I’m alone, not lonely?’”

“Yes, you say it every time someone asks why you live in this van,”

“Well…I…I am lonely…” Sniper said. Demo sat up, his brow furrowing in concern. Sniper didn’t say things like this often, so Demo felt as though he shouldn’t take this lightly. He saw Sniper sit up as well.

“I’ve started getting really intolerant of being alone,” He started, looking Demo straight in the eye, “I like being around the team, I like being around you. Sure I prefer being alone but that’s only for so long. I feel like being around nothing but insects and frogs all day is starting to drive me a little crazy,” He shook his head, “I’m starting to feel like Medic,”

Demo chuckled lightly at the comparison. Sniper snickered.

“We’ll have to start calling you the Insect Man,” Demo joked.

“But…I don’t know. I feel like spending all my time either in here or alone in the battlements is starting to take a toll. So what I’m trying to say is; Thank you for staying. I guess I didn’t realize just how starved I was for interaction beyond just going out on contracts,”

Demo chewed the inside of his cheek and climbed up the ladder to be by Snipers side. Attention starvation can certainly do strange things to a person psyche, and being alone was absolutely a way to facilitate it. Sniper laid back down and faced Demo.

“I’m here for ya lad,” He whispered. Sniper sighed.

“Thank you. It means a lot,”

Sniper and Demo were extremely close now, their faces only inches apart. Demo could feel Snipers breath on his lips, a surge in his chest. In spite of it being so dark, he could see Snipers eyes in detail. Bright blue, flecked with silver and ringed with purple. Demo swallowed hard.

“Demo?”

“Yes?”

“…I love you,”

Demo inhaled quietly, not breaking eye contact. He leaned closer, closer than he’d ever gotten to the Australian. He bit his lip and let his eye drift shut when he felt Snipers hand brush against his cheek. He raised his hand to touch Snipers and found himself lightly kissing Snipers palm. Sniper propped himself up and leaned their heads together, grabbing Demos head. Demo took a step up the ladder to get a better angle and put his arms around Sniper. Being so close Demo could feel every breath and twitch from Sniper. Sniper slid his arms around Demos neck and shoulders, letting himself lean against Demos larger frame. They were so close now, their lips barely an inch apart. Demo could hardly stand it.

Sniper was the one who finally moved in, brushing their lips together. Demo shuddered at the contact, pressing into the kiss. He climbed up into the bed with Sniper and moved his hands down to his sides. He soon had Sniper moaning into the kiss, gripping the back of his head.

After several minutes of amorous exchanges, the two of them finally pulled back to catch their breath. Snipers face was red, his pupils blown. Demo pulled Sniper into a strong embrace, burying his face into the crook between Snipers head and shoulder, placing light kisses on his neck.

“Yer bloody handsome,” Demo breathed, his voice muffled. Sniper returned the embrace, softly smiling. Demo moved himself to sit crossed legged in the center of the bed and pulled Sniper into his lap, laying him out and cradling him, kissing him again while Sniper giggled and blushed even harder.

Demo pulled back from drowning Sniper in affection and leaned their heads together to look into his eyes. Sniper nuzzled against Demo and threw his arms around his shoulders.

“I could stay like this all night,” He purred. Demo brushed his hand over Snipers cheek, cupping his face.

“I second that love,” He breathed, kissing over Snipers eyes.

They stayed like that all night, exchanging kisses and gentle touches all through the storm, and eventually falling asleep in each others arms just as the sun finally began to rise.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 sniper #tf2 demo #demoxsniper #tf2 fanfic

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marvelmymarvel · 5 years

Text

Aim For My Heart

Part 5/15

Lewis Nixon x Sniper!Marshall!Reader

Synopsis: As a Female Snipper for Easy company, you certainly do get a lot of attention, but the only attention you want is from Lewis Nixon. In the deadly mix called love in a war in which you had no business being in, will you and Lew make it out alive

You sat in the pub with everyone else. Some of the men were making bets on whether they could hit the bullseye or not on the dartboard. You chuckled at their stupid antics but kept drinking the beer that Lew brought you before he was pulled away. You were sitting nearby some of the new replacements and saw Bill eyeing them. “Hey Fellas, what do you hear? What do you say?” Bill started and you crossed your leg, listening in. You were hoping he would go easy on them, as you saw them as your ‘babies’, of course, you were the only one that felt that way towards the replacements. “Actually, that's babes seat, private Heffron's,” One of the men said. You nodded at his bravery seeing as no one, but you really stood up to Bill and his ways. “Is that right. I don't care if its fucking Eisenhower's” he snarled and you rolled your eyes at his response. “Bill” you hissed finally leaning away from the table that you sat at with Web as you tried to stop him. “Who are you” Bill pressed, ignoring you. You glared at his head as he waved you off.

“Private Miller, James Miller. I'm in Sergeant Randleman's squad” One of the boys stated. The others followed and you pursed your lips, hoping that Bill would listen to you and go easy. He was telling them about a story, and you listened, wondering where it was going. “What do you call one of them letters” Bill called back to you and Web. “Er, “Dear John” letter” Web answered as you took a sip of your beer, realizing that he was in fact, going to go easy. “That's it a “Dear Babe” letter” you snorted at the comparison before drinking some more of the beer. Shaking your head at Web you laughed at Bill’s punchline. Then they started to pick on Bull “They probably think he's a fuckin hayseed, ain't that right?” Bill teased as you hit his arm. The boys laughed and you glared at Bill, “Be nice Billy” you whispered.

“What are you laughing at?” Martin hissed out, making the boys fall silent and for you to look at him in shock. They were all just having fun, and while Bill was getting on your nerves, you knew he was just joking around with everyone. When you saw Martins' face go into a little smile you shook your head angrily at them. They were all acting like pricks. Scaring these poor boys for no reason. But you kept your mouth closed, that was until Cobb opened his. Cobbs' hand slammed into the kid's arm, making him turn in disbelief that someone would hit him. “Where'd you get that” Cobb hissed as he fiddled with Miller's medal. “It's a presidential distinguished unit citation. For, uh... For what the regiment did in Normandy” Miller replied boldly, like he wasn't ashamed. You set your glass down, feeling like you were about to fight Cobb if he, even a little, tore this kid down. “Don't do it” Web hissed out. You didn't know if it was to you or Cobb, but you didn't care. “That's right, for what the regiment did. You weren't there” Cobb hissed and you stood up, chair scratching as Web watched you wide-eyed. “Hey, Cobb, why don't you leave these men alone you son of a bitch” You snarled out and he rolled his eyes at you. “Why don't you sit back down Princess” Cobb snarled back before his friend came around, telling him to ease up and that it was a unit citation that every man get a medal. Your hands were balled in fists as you felt anger bubble and rise under your skin. But your heart broke when Miller took it off. You scoffed at the whole thing, “Shit Cobb, You didn't fight in Normandy neither” Bull snapped out, before turning to leave. “I got hit in the plane before I got a chance to jump” Cobb stated to the other replacement. You shook your head and snatched up the medal, “Doesn't change the fact that you’re a pussy who can talk but can’t fight” you whispered before walking over to where the kid was. He was turned to the wall, trying to calm down. “Hey, Miller right?” you asked kindly as you fumbled with the medal. He turned to you and you smiled softly at him before extending your hand with the medal between your fingers. “I actually fought in Normandy... You wear this medal with pride and you pay no attention to men like Cobb. They’re cowards, but you stay strong kid” you stated. He eyed the medal and you before reaching out to grab it. You nodded softly before turning back towards the group, “Thank you” Miller called out and you turned your head, throwing a wink “Anytime kiddo.” you whispered back. “Hey, Y’all, listen up.” Smokey hollered out and you all turned to listen, “I got us an announcement to make.” He pushed Lip underneath him so everyone could see him “This here is Carwood Lipton”, you chuckled at this weird introduction “He’s already married, smokey” You hollered out, causing men to laugh. “This here is Carwood Lipton, the new Easy company 1st Sergeant.” You cheered for him as you clapped loudly, a glare was sent to you from Cobb but you just flipped him off. “Well, hate to break the mood here, boys” Car began to speak up and your face fell. It seemed as if he only broke the mood. “But, we’re moving out again” it fell silent and you half expected this. Lew talked about this the night before so you weren't shocked. All the men were silent as Lip left the room awkwardly. Leaning over the table you and Web sat at, you snapped at Web to get his attention. “Finish this for me Webby?” You asked as you slid your half drunk beer to him. He nodded and you mouthed a thank you before leaving the pub.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you couldn't wait to cuddle into Lew and fall fast asleep, which is exactly what you did. You found him at the desk, looking over the plans for the next day. “What's the plan” you stated as you sat on the bed and untied your shoes. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you” he whispered and you chuckled as you put your sock covered feet onto the wooden floorboards. Walking over to him, you wrapped your arms around him as you laid your head on his shoulder. Kissing his ear, you eyed the plans. “Y/n” He whispered and you realized you were caught red handed. You looked up and saw that a mirror was in front of you two, you smiled sheepishly at him before pecking his cheek and starting to strip. “I don't get it Lew” you began as you threw your jacket onto the chair near the bed. He hummed as he wrote something down, and you continued as you slid your pants off, “Why can't I know the plans. I am Y/n Marshall... I have privileges here-” “Because your father is the General of the Army. If your father was Sink, maybe... But I was told specifically that I can't tell you anything.” Lew stated as he set the pen down, looking up at you while leaning back. He wasn't annoyed with your constant pestering, but he was upset that he couldn't share with you what he was planning. You looked at him as you slid his boxers on and white t-shirt from the night before. It smelt like him. You smiled, bringing in the collar as you inhaled him deeper. “It's like you’re around me Lew” you whispered out while looking at him lovingly. Lew smiled as you walked over to the bed, laying down, you stared up at the ceiling. He didn't say anything, only looked down in fear. Fear that if he made one wrong mistake, your life was at stake. “Lew” You called out when he didn't look up from the ground you sat up, “Honey” you whispered and his eyes snapped to your worried ones. You smiled softly while opening your arms, “Come to bed.”

You sat beside Bill as you listened to the plan which was called ‘Operation Market Garden.’ You stuck your hand out behind you where Lieb was sitting for a smoke. Once you felt the cigarette between your fingers, you took stuck it between your teeth as you leaned towards Bill for him to light it. “We’re dropping deep into occupied Holland” Winters began. You pulled away, nodding at Bill and Lieb as a form of silent thanks, before facing back forwards. Inhaling, your eyes caught Lew’s. Throwing up a shit-eating grin, you exhaled the smoke. “The allied objective is to take this road here, between Eindhoven and Arnhem, so that two British armored divisions can move up it toward Arnhem. Our job is gonna be to liberate Eindhoven, stay there, wait for the tanks” Winters finished his part and you watched as Lew went forward to start his. “The entire European advance has been put on hold to allocate resources for this operation. It's Montgomery’s personal plan, and we’ll be under British command.” Men groaned beside you and you realized that Lew wasn't designing the plan, he was studying it. “The good news is, if this works, these tanks will be over the Rhine and into Germany.” He continued despite the groans. Your eyes locked with his “It could end the war, and get us home by Christmas.” Your heart raced and you looked at your hands, the thought of being home safe with Lew made your stomach flip happily. “It’s a daytime jump. Intelligence doesn't expect much opposition, they think the Krauts in Holland are mostly kids and old men. And we should take ‘em by surprise. In any case, say goodbye to England.” Your heart broke at those words as you looked back up at him. “I don't think they’re gonna call this one off.” he finished before his gaze met with yours. “Private Marshall” someone hollered from beside the area. You stood, knowing what it was before he could continue, “Yeah yeah yeah” you whispered as you walked through the groaning men. “How come she gets to leave early?” Some replacement hollered “Because she's the General of the fuckin Armies daughter you prick” Liebgott hollered back. “Boys” you hissed as you glared at Lieb for his language before throwing Lew an apologetic look for disturbing the meeting as you were pulled away.

“How’s the ol’ General” Lew whispered in your ear as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You hadn't seen him since you left to go talk with your father, so the only time you got with him was before you were preparing to jump. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his hungrily. He stopped walking in shock and kissed you back, but he had a confused look on his face when you finished. “What was that for” he questioned as he caressed your cheek, “Just in case I don't make it” you whispered up at him truthfully. His smile fell and he got serious, “You’re gonna make it” He whispered and you nodded, “Even though I didn't plan this. You will be safe-.” “Because you studied it till you were sick” You whispered up at him, cutting him off and making him purse his lips. He didn't want to tell you. “Lew you cant... You can't worry about losing me when you make the plans. If my death means we win then my death means we-” “Stop it” He snapped out, stopping your rant in its tracks.

“Your death, won't do anything but bring pain to those around you. If you haven't noticed Y/n, these men love you. Losing you would be detrimental. So don't you dare try and ‘sacrifice’ yourself for them.” he seethed out as he backed away from you, shaking his head in anger “Becuase it will only ruin them” he finished as he turned to leave. “Lew” you called out but he kept walking. You bit your lip, watching him leave. You feared it would be the last thing you would see.

The jump was easy you thought as you raced alongside the others. Air support left you and you all began to walk through the thick wheat field. “You and Nixon fighting?” Liebgott asked and you sighed, “Just a little misunderstanding” you whispered out as you began to come up to the town, “Good” Lieb stated and that made you grow confused, “Why good Lieb” you pressed. It wasn't a question, more of a statement. “He was pissed when he was talking to Winters before the jump. Talked about how you thought he was making the plans to save you. Talked about how you said if your death was the only choice-” “Lieb” you sighed, knowing where this was going “No you just listen here Y/n” He stopped you and you quieted down, “You are so damn important to all of us here.” he began again and some of the men hummed in agreeance behind you. You looked back at the faces and turned back to Lieb as you continued to walk. “If he did design those plans to keep you safe. That's the greatest gift he could give us” He finished and you were silent as more men agreed. You sighed as you repositioned your gun. Staying silent the rest of the walk towards the town, you thought about how much you truly meant to everyone, not just Lew.

They cheered for you. You were a little dazed by the fact that there was no bloodshed at all, that finally, you got your way. You tried to find Lew as the crowds began to overwhelm you. “Dance” one man tried to state and you just shook your head but he grabbed for you anyway. “No, no thank you sir” you whispered as he dragged you into the dance. You held hands with the others as you danced in a circle. People bumped you and surrounded you. All you wanted to do was climb on top of a tank and never get down. An arm wrapped around you and you turned to push them off as your worst fears came true. “It's just me. Its just me” Lew whispered in your ear as you then clutched onto him. His familiar scent making you forget the crowd for a second. He led you over to the side where no one was and you gasped for breath like you almost drowned as you grabbed onto the wall. Head facing down, you tried to catch your breath. He rubbed your back as the stress took over your body, making your breathing jagged and your stomach swirl. You turned and leaned against the wall as he cornered you. To some people, it would make them feel unsafe. But at that moment, that was all you needed. “Hey don't cry” he whispered as you sunk down the wall, you didn't even realize that you were in fact crying until he said that. Then it got worse. You covered your mouth to hide the loud sob and the fact that you were breaking again. But he knew better. “Shh shh shhh honey you're safe now” he cooed as he got down on his knee, trying to block out the overwhelming crowd from your vision. If he could just get you high up and out of the way, you would be fine. He wiped your tears as you began to calm down. “Let's get you high up eh?” he asked softly and you nodded. As you stood at the edge of the sidewalk, you looked at the sea of people in fear. He wrapped his arm tightly around you and you gripped onto his collar, “Come on honey, no one can hurt you” he whispered softly as you worked your way through the crowd. You found Winters who was perched up to overlook the scene and Lew shoved you on top of that area. You instantly felt calmer being near both of them and you looked out with Winters. And then you saw it. The girls were thrown in the circle and sheared like sheep. You dropped down, gripping onto Lew as you grew afraid of the group. “What did they do,” someone asked and you just gripped onto Lew harder, pushing your body closer into him. “They slept with the Germans” someone stated behind you. You were about to snap a comment back but someone tapped you on the shoulder. “Miss, Your father is on the line” He stated and you nodded before pecking Lew’s cheek, seeing his concerned face as he didn't want you wandering around alone without him. “I’ll be careful Lew” you whispered out before leaving.

That night, you two were able to snag a bedroom with some very nice farmers. You laid your head on his chest, relaxed at the peace and quiet that surrounded you two. Finally. You thought. You began to think of quiet nights like this back home. Would you live with Lew? Would he marry you? How many kids would he want- “Whatcha thinking about” he whispered making his chest rumble softly beneath your ear as your fingers stopped tracing his bare chest. “Nothing” you whispered back shyly. Truth be told, it was a little early to be thinking of marriage and kids, considering you’ve only been together for 2 and a half years, yet it felt like an eternity. “I know you Y/n” he whispered back before pressing his lips to your forehead. You sighed before sitting up and looking at him. “What's our future” you whispered out, it was bold, but it felt stupid. Not stupid to ask, but stupid to think he wouldn't be with you forever. His smile fell and he cocked his head. “What exactly about our future” he pressed. Your cheeks got hot, realizing that this could either break you or make you love him even more. “Will we get married?” you asked softly. You were hoping he wouldn't laugh, and you were thankful when his lips went up into a half smile. “I just need to get a ring. But of course, we will get married” he stated before sitting up. “Next question” he pressed while cupping your cheeks lovingly. “How many kids” you stated and he chuckled, “However many we can make” he answered playfully and you slapped his arm. Then he got serious, “However many you want is fine by me. I just wanna be with you for the rest of my life” he stated softly. It took your breath away. He pecked your lips softly before laying you both down. Holding you close to him, you felt complete, you felt love. Most importantly, you felt safe.

Part 6

Tags:

@hell-itwasyou @desired-love-

#lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon imagine #lewis nixon imagines #lewis nixon #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #aim for my heart

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 4 years

Text

Drunk Karaoke Confessions

Steve Rogers x Reader

a/n: commission for the wonderful @crystalizedcaramel

summary: Reader gets super drunk and Nat is there so record it.

The Beatles - Words of Love

There is a pounding going on in your head, a massive hangover that is most definitely a punishment for how much you drank the previous night. Stretching, you lift the blanket off your face and stare up at the ceiling, taking in deep breaths to wake your body up. It did not help because you can feel a turning in your stomach, you burp, and it tastes like beer and hot wings. The girls and you had gone out for a night of winding down after several back to back missions, Steve and the fellas decided to stay behind to order pizza and watch some fight on pay per view. It was a wild night, not that you can remember, but the pounding headache is a clue as to how much fun you had.

Apparently, it is obvious, your crush on him, to everyone on the team but Steve himself. Natasha says it is the way you look at him, the fondness in your eyes even when he’s just talking about the morning news. She says it is sweet and that you should take the chance to tell the man how you feel but why do that? You value Steve’s friendship, he is the one you go to for nearly everything and can spend hours just talking – and the two of you have, late nights in the communal living room just talking. Sometimes he talks about his life before the crash, other times he comes to you for modern education – which really means you updating him on music and pop culture.

That is what holds you back.

“I feel it too,” you say, taking a seat at the kitchen island. Looking to Nat you ask her if she’s hungover too. “You look unscathed.”

She shrugs. “I didn’t drink as much as you, in fact, no one at the entire bar drank as much as you.”

“How drunk was she?”

Rolling your eyes at Sam, you glance at Natasha innocently. “…yeah, how drunk was I?”

She grins but there is something off and a sinking feeling comes over you. She nudges Sam, calling out to FRIDAY. “Can you play the video I sent to Sam earlier?”

The A.I says of course, and you turn to the holo-screen above the kitchen table, it’s you on a small stage and suddenly it all comes back like a way – drunk karaoke.

“Hey everybody!” Your words are slurry, but your stance is stable as you speak into the mic. “Soo…I wanna come up and sing for you guys -has, has anyone ever been in love?”

The crowd hoots and hollers.

Everyone claps and shouts as you hold onto the standing mic; guitar chords play, and you smile. “Hold me close and tell me how you feel – tell me love is real…”

Your voice is lovely, always has been and you wish Steve was here to listen – he has never heard you sing and maybe he if he did, he would fall in love with you. It was silly to think about but as you continue to sing the song, you close your eyes and think of him. Think of his beautiful face, boyish smile and his warm heart – how good it would feel to have him touch you.

“Words of love you whisper soft and true, darling, I love you.”

The song ends and everyone applauds, a few whistles ring over the noise and the alcohol you have been consuming, fills you with warmth.

The video ends and you feel embarrassed but Sam whistles. “Damn, you got some pipes on you.”

You turn to Nat and Sam, frowning. “There is video evidence of me proclaiming my love for Steve through a song, and all you can say is I have a nice voice.”

He shrugs as he plates breakfast. “Yeah.”

“Well, thank you,” you mutter with a sigh. “I’m just glad you guys stayed in, the last thing I need is Steve seeing that performance.”

“Would that be such a terrible thing?” Natasha asks and you say yes, it would be a bad thing because Steve sees you as a friend. Her face perks up and she calls to FRIDAY. “Play the video for Steve, please. He’s in the gym.”

Your eyes wide in fear as you jump from the seat. “What the fuck, Nat!”

“Shit!”

“Sorry,” Steve chuckles, holding onto your shoulders. He’s gorgeous, smiling as asks if you are okay.

“Not really. Did you – did you see the video?”

He smiles wide and nods. “I did.”

You laugh, nodding your head. “I was but I meant it all.”

Steve sighs in relief and moves his head closer to yours. He whispers, “Good, because you have to know, I love you too.”

His arms slip around your waist before breaking the kiss; he leans his forehead against yours and grins. “Why didn’t you tell me you had such an amazing singing voice?”

Laughing, you shrug and place both hands on his shoulder. “Come to karaoke next time so I won’t have to imagine you there.”

Steve blushes, but leans forward and kisses you on the forehead. “I’ll be your number on fan.”

Biting down on your lip, you struggle to contain the happiness you feel knowing your life has changed for the better – the man you love, loves you back.

Sighing contently, you look at Steve and beam. “And I’ll be yours.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve x reader #captain america x reader #captain america #marvel #ivonnes imagine

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snappedsky · 5 years

Text

Resident Evil 7 21- Hoffman Wins

So ages and ages and ages ago, I was playing the RE 7 21 dlc with my brother and we were talking about what would happen if Hoffman won. And I was like "I gotta write that." And ages and ages and ages later, I finally finished it. It's pretty simple, but it's just fun writing Lucas.

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Hoffman stares at his opponent’s body from across the table. He’s now down five fingers. Clancy was his name- is. He’s still breathing. Hoffman’s not sure what he looks like though, because of the sack over his head.

A small part of Hoffman feels bad for Clancy. But a bigger part is glad he’s not in that position.

He looks up at the five static-y television screens sitting behind Clancy. “Okay, I won. You’ll let me go now, right?”

In his control room, Lucas Baker giggles maniacally in his chair at the unconscious Clancy on his computer screen. He stops at Hoffman’s question and rolls his eyes.

“That’s how the game works,” he sighs with obvious disappointment. “I wish we could’ve had a little more fun.” He stares at his computer screens displaying Hoffman and Clancy. Clancy is slumped over the table. He’s still breathing so he’s not dead; probably just in shock and not going to get up anytime soon.

The game went by way too fast and Hoffman didn’t even lose any fingers! Who would’ve thought he would be such a whiz at Blackjack?

Lucas gets an idea and a shit-eating grin spreads across his face.

“Okay, Hoffman, I’ll let you go,” Lucas says, “just sit tight and I’ll-.” He pushes a button and cuts all the power in the game room. Hoffman exclaims with surprise and starts calling out, “hey! What happened? Hello!”

Lucas ignores him as he hops out of his chair and hurries to the game room. He moves quickly and quietly, like a snake. He stabs a hook into the back of Clancy’s neck and two more into his right arm. They all have strings attached to them that run into the ceiling and come out in the control room.

Lucas hustles away and falls into his chair. He switches the power back on and Hoffman gasps with surprise.

“Sorry about that, Hoffman,” Lucas says, “musta been a power surge. But everything’s fine now. So what were we talking about?”

“You’re supposed to let me go!” Hoffman barks.

“Right, right,” Lucas nods, “okay, Hoffman. I’ll-.”

He yanks the strings attached to Clancy, throwing up his head and arm.

“Well, goddamn,” Lucas comments, “look at Clancy.”

He deepens his voice and flails Clancy’s arm around. “I’m Clancy and I feel fine. I don’t want to lose. I wanna play another round.”

“What the fuck!” Hoffman barks.

“Atta boy, Clancy,” Lucas cheers in his real voice. “You heard him, Hoffman. We gotta play another round.”

“You motherfucker!” Hoffman screams, “you said you’d let me go!”

“And I will,” Lucas says, “IF you beat Clancy.”

“You sick prick!” Hoffman shrieks while Lucas laughs maniacally.

He shuts off the game room’s power again and quickly sets up round two.

When the lights turn back on, Hoffman sees a large machine sitting beside the table. It has two arms that hang over the opponents’ trapped hands. Attached to the arms are gauges numbered 1 to 9 with a red skull after the 9. And sticking out of the gauges are prongs that poke the flesh of their hands.

Hoffman gets a real bad feeling looking at it.

“Voila!” Lucas chimes, “just a little something special I made for the occasion.”

“Figured it out yet?” he asks excitedly, “aww, I bet you can guess.”

A pair of rods on the main part of the machine starts spinning. The gauge moves to 4 and the prongs lift up.

They jab into Hoffman and Clancy’s hands, sending horrible shocks through their bodies. Hoffman screams in pain and convulses until the machine stops and the gauge drops down to zero.

Lucas laughs with sick amusement. “This puppy’s a relic from an execution chamber. I got it working again though,” he states proudly.

“See them gauges there? The current goes up every time you lose,” he explains. Then he puts on ‘Clancy’s’ voice and flails his arm about. “But, Lucas, what’s the bet?”

“Good question, Clancy,” Lucas says in his regular voice. “Look here.” A dial sitting on top of the gauges switches on revealing 01 in red.

“If you lose, the gauge will go up however many numbers the dial is showing,” Lucas explains then giggles, “at max power you’ll really ride the lightning.”

“Stop, this is crazy!” Hoffman cries.

“I’m gonna introduce something else to really spice things up,” Lucas says, ignoring him. Two smaller, green cards suddenly shoot out from the dealer machines in front of Hoffman and Clancy. Hoffman picks his up. One says ‘Two Up’ and the other says ‘Draw 6’. They both have a different set of rules written in the corners.

“These are trump cards,” Lucas explains, “you’ll get one each turn and, if you’re lucky enough, when you draw a card. If you’re going down, you can use these to pick yourself back up.”

“Now, let’s begin.” Lucas flails Clancy’s arm around and says in his Clancy voice, “it’s your turn now.”

“You’re really enjoying this, huh, you freak!” Hoffman barks. Away from the mic, Lucas is giggling maniacally.

The dealing machines at the end of the table deal out two cards to both opponents. One is flipped up, the other isn’t. Hoffman has a six and Clancy has a four. Hoffman looks at his face-down card. It’s a 7, so he has thirteen all together.

“Hit me,” he says. As long as it’s not a 9 or over, he’ll be good.

He gets a 5. Now he has 18. That’s a good number to stay on, depending on ‘Clancy’s’ next move.

Clancy’s limp arm flails about as Lucas’ fake voice comes through the speakers. “Gimme another.”

The machine spits out an 8. So now, as far as Hoffman can tell, ‘Clancy’ has a 12. His face down card can’t be 7 or 8 since they share the same deck. But if it’s a 9, Hoffman will be in trouble. On the other hand, if its anything higher or lower, ‘Clancy’ will lose this round.

That’s a rick Hoffman is willing to take. Maybe he can make the reward even greater.

Hoffman draws his ‘Two-up’ card. The rule says that when this card is on the table, the opponent’s bet goes up by two. So now Clancy’s dial is on 3.

“I’ll stay,” Hoffman grunts.

“Oh, boy,” Lucas says in his ‘Clancy’s’ voice. “I’m scared now.”

‘Clancy’ stays. The televisions behind him light up with the word ‘Showdown’ while Lucas chimes in over the speakers. “The winner is…” The screens change to show Clancy and Hoffman’s hands. Clancy has 17 and Hoffman has 18.

“Hoffman!” Lucas declares. The machine powers up as the prongs over Clancy’s hand lift up.

“Oh no!” Lucas cries dramatically in ‘Clancy’s’ voice. The prongs jab into his flesh. Clancy’s body thrashes violently from the force of the shock. Over the clamor, Hoffman can faintly hear Lucas’ giggling through the speakers.

The machine finally stops and Clancy’s limp body leans over. He would probably collapse all together if it weren’t for Lucas’ puppet strings holding him up.

“Let’s move onto the next round,” Lucas chimes.

The cards disappear back into the machine. There’s a brief pause before two new game cards and one trump card are dealt to both players. The dials on the machine also go up one.

Clancy’s face-up card is a 6. Hoffman’s is a 4 and his face-down card is an 8, so he has 12. His new trump card is another ‘Two-up’.

“Gimme another,” ‘Clancy’ says, his limp arm flailing around. He gets a 5. So as far as Hoffman knows, he has 11. If the face-down card is a 10, he’ll be in trouble.

“Hit me,” Hoffman says. He gets an 11. Hoffman flinches. He has 23; he’s over.

“I’ll stay,” ‘Clancy’ says. Not matter what he has, it must be lower than 23. Hoffman’s screwed.

“I’ll stay,” he croaks.

“The winner is…” Lucas purrs.

The screens change, revealing their hands. Hoffman has 23, Clancy has 18.

“Clancy!” Lucas cheers. “Uh oh, Hoffman. You get the consolation prize.”

Hoffman starts panicking as the machine powers up. “Wait! Stop!”

The prongs jab into his hand. He convulses and screams and chokes as the shock travels through his body. It only lasts a couple seconds but it feels like an eternity.

It finally stops. Hoffman leans over the table, panting and moaning in pain.

“Isn’t this a blast?” Lucas laughs excitedly while the new hand is dealt out. Hoffman’s new trump card is a ‘Draw 3’; his face-up card is a 7 and face-down card is a 4. Clancy’s face-up card is a 9.

The next few rounds are just as stressful and gut wrenching as the last few, if not more so. Every time his dial and gauge moves up, Hoffman feels sicker and sicker. Meanwhile, Lucas seems to be having the time of his life. And Clancy is still unresponsive. Not even the multiple electrical shocks jolt anymore life in him.

Lucas just worsens the situation by pretending to be Clancy. He’s constantly waving his limp arm about and saying things like, “who cares about your family? What about me?” or, “what are you being so selfish, Hoffman? I thought we were friends!”

Hoffman does his best to ignore him and focus on the game. Thankfully it should be ending soon. Because ‘Clancy’s’ used a couple ‘Two-up’ cards, Hoffman’s sitting at 5 with a bet of 4 while Clancy is on 6 with only a bet of 1. If Hoffman uses one of his ‘Two-up’ cards, then he only has to win this round and the next and it’ll all be over!

“A bit longer, just a bit longer,” Hoffman mutters as he puts down his ‘Two-up’ card. His hand is 20 and as far as he can tell, ‘Clancy’ only has 17. He’s feeling pretty confident.

The round ends and Lucas chimes over the speakers. “Alright, show ‘em, fellas.”

“It’s a…” The screen changes, showing they both have 20. “A draw!”

“A draw?” Lucas questions theatrically. “Well, I guess you both lose.”

“What?” Hoffman exclaims.

The machine powers up and both arms lift up and shock Hoffman and Clancy. Hoffman screams with agony as he convulses. When the shocks finally stop, he slumps over the table, gasping and weeping. He looks at the machine and watches helplessly as the gauge moves to the skull.

“Hoo hoo, this next jolt with set you off like a frog on a hot plate,” Lucas laughs.

They’re both sitting on the skull. This is it; the defining round. If Hoffman doesn’t win this, he’s dead. But if he does win, this will all be over.

Their hands get dealt out. Hoffman has a 2 and 4, the 4 face-down. Clancy’s face-up card is an 8.

Hoffman feels safe starting with a low hand like 6. No matter what he draws next, he can’t go over.

“Hit me,” he says. He gets a 9 so now he has 15.

“Gimme another,” ‘Clancy’ says. He gets a 7 so, as far as Hoffman can tell, he also has 15.

Hoffman needs a 6 to get 21 and so does Clancy. But for all Hoffman knows, Clancy might already have 21.

He goes through his trump cards and puts out the ‘Draw 6’. As long as Clancy doesn’t already have the 6, then Hoffman will get 21.

The 6 shoots out and Hoffman has to do his best to not jump for joy.

“I’ll stay,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I’ll stay,” ‘Clancy’ says.

“The winner is…” Lucas sings. The screens reveal their hands: Hoffman has 21, Clancy has 20.

“Hoffman!” Hoffman sighs with obvious relief. He starts to relax when he hears a voice from across the table.

“Huh? Wh-what’s going on?” Clancy mutters as he slowly blinks into consciousness. He sees the large machine and the prongs lifting over his hand.

“Wha-what’s happening? Stop! Stop!” Clancy cries as he tries to pull his hand out of the restraints. The prongs jab into his skin and his screams nearly shake the room.

Hoffman watches, horrified, as blood seeps through Clancy’s clothes and the eyeholes of his sack and smokes rises from his body. He doesn’t want to watch but he can’t look away.

The torture finally stops and Clancy slumps over without another sound, being help up only by the strings in the back of his neck.

Hoffman stares at Clancy’s limp body. There’s no sign of any breathing this time. He’s been fried.

“He’s dead now. He’s fucking dead, okay?” Hoffman snaps, “now let me go.”

“Okay, Hoffman,” Lucas says, “you won fair and square. Guess I’ll-.”

Clancy’s head is yanked up and his arm waves around. “Wait!” Lucas shouts in his fake ‘Clancy’ voice. “I can’t quit now. I’ve been through too much. One more round!”

“Clancy, you tough sonuvabitch,” Lucas comments, “well, Hoffman, you heard him. One more round!”

“No!” Hoffman barks, “I won! You can’t keep doing this!”

“You didn’t really think you could win MY game, did you?” Lucas sneers.

Hoffman falls back in his chair, hope leaving his body like the steam rolling off Clancy. Memories of his wife and daughter fade in his mind. He shrieks in despair, his cries bouncing off the walls and drowned out only by Lucas’ maniacal laughter.

He’s trapped forever; doomed to a lifetime of being this freak’s twisted plaything.

#Resident Evil 7 #Resident Evil 7 fanfiction #RE 7 #RE 7 fanfiction #Lucas Baker #my art

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