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endlessbittersweetdreams · 1 year

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"Broken & Beautiful" Chapter 18

When I wake up in the morning, I have a routine that I tend to stick with: pry myself out of Jake’s arms; sit up, yawn and stretch; use the bathroom; and then kill time until he wakes up. But something unexpected happens this morning. While I do wake up in Jake’s arms, I’m immediately hit with a horrible feeling. One that hits me in one great, big wave and sends me scrambling for the bathroom. I make it to the toilet just in time, seeing last night’s dinner in reverse. I’m so focused on my misery that I don’t even notice Jake’s presence until he’s kneeling next to me, rubbing my back and making sure my ponytail stays out of the way.

The wave dies down, but I’m still clinging to the toilet for dear life. Jake leaves my side only long enough to wet down a wash cloth, pressing it to my neck and then to my forehead. He instructs me to keep the cloth where it is and then leaves the room, coming back with a glass of cold water. I drink slowly, but it doesn’t stay down long. We repeat the same steps as before, and I end up leaning against the bathtub with the wash cloth held to my forehead.

Jake fills the glass with some more water and hands it to me. I drink it slowly, and we wait to find out if it will stay down this time. So far, so good.

“Ugh. Well, there’s one food I won’t be able to eat again,” I grumble as last night’s dinner is flushed down the toilet.

He sits down next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “You think it’s food poisoning?”

I shake my head and immediately regret it. But at least this time, I’m able to keep things down. “I don’t think so. I mean, we ate the same thing. Maybe I’m stressed about something, and I don’t even realize it.” That’s entirely possible. I mean, I was rendered queasy last month when my adoptive mother came into town. Anything could set me off.

“I’m going to call Scott. Tell him we can’t meet up with him today.” Jake makes a move to get up, but I reach out to stop him.

“No. Don’t.”

“Babe, do you really feel like making a trip to Bushwick? I mean, Scott can show me that place anytime.”

I want to shake my head again, but I think better of it this time. “No. I don’t want you to put it off. You know how Scott can be. I’ll be fine. I just need to keep plenty of fluids in me and remember to keep a stack of saltines in my purse. Just give me a few minutes, and I’ll be fine.”

To be honest, I don’t even believe myself. But Jake has been looking forward to seeing the truck depot that could be a possible location for his business venture with Scott. And I, being the supportive woman that I am, agreed to go with him. Who am I to back out, just because of a little nausea?

Jake frowns at me, but I give him my most determined look. “All right. Fine. But if you’re too sick to go, tell me.”

“Okay,” I respond weakly.

Once I feel up to it, I get up off of the floor and brush my teeth. After showering and getting dressed, I keep breakfast simple: dry toast and a bowl of oatmeal. Though the nausea is still present, it seems that I’m able to keep things down. That’s a blessing, albeit a small one. I remember to stuff at least two stacks’ worth of saltine crackers into my purse, grabbing a few bottles of water before Jake and I take a cab to our destination. I’m miserable the entire way, but I keep things in check.

When we arrive at the truck depot, Scott is surprised to see me. “What the Hell is she doing here?”

“Good morning to you, too, Scott,” I retort, sipping my water.

He looks me up and down. “You look like Hell.”

I bat my eyes at him sarcastically. “Funny. I could say the same thing.”

I know that to outsiders, it seems that we hate each other. I actually consider Scott to be one of my friends, even though we’re not exactly close. He can be snarky, but that’s part of his charm.

“Seriously, though. You look like shit. You’re not getting sick. Are you?”

I wave him off as I take a sip of water. “I’m fine.” Actually, I’m not fine. I don’t know what it is that I’m smelling, but it’s aggravating my nausea.

“All right,” Scott begins, rubbing his palms together in excitement. “You two ready to see this place?”

Jake and Scott work together to slide the huge garage door upward, and then all three of us step under it and enter the building.

“Yeah. Ignore the trucks,” Scott says as he walks around, gesturing to each individual area while Jake and I follow him. “Two--tops here. Couple of banquets. The bar will run the length of the wall. You see it, right?”

Jake, who’s removed his sunglasses, doesn’t seem too enthused. Neither am I, but for different reasons. Ugh. This rubber tire smell is not helping my nausea. I lean against the wall, nibbling on crackers while they talk.

“And who, exactly, is coming to a truck depot in Bushwick for a mezcal cocktail?” Jake asks.

“Oh, for fuck sakes! Everyone,” Scott retorts. “Dude, you've been dragging your fucking feet for months. And I'm telling you, this is the place.” Then he looks at me. “You see it. Right?”

I finish chewing the cracker and swallow, nodding. “Yeah. Definitely,” I answer. My nausea increases, and I can’t take it anymore. I have to get out of here. The smell is killing me. “Umm ... I’m just going to get some fresh air. But, uh, it looks promising, guys.” I duck under the garage door and stay close, and I can hear Scott’s voice.

“Seriously, man. What’s up with her?”

“She hasn’t been feeling well since this morning,” Jake answers. “Probably something she ate.”

“Yeah. You sure you didn’t knock her up?”

I happen to be drinking water when Scott says this, and it shoots out of my mouth. “I heard that!” I bellow as I roll my eyes. I mean, there’s no way I could be pregnant. Jake and I always use protection. Always. Every single time, without fail. My stomach is just being a little touchy, and I’ll get over it.

Well, I definitely have not gotten over it. Family Dinner is sheer torture for me. It seems that every smell is out to get me, and it is all I can do to choke down what little food I eat. Jake insists that I ask Will to cut my shift short so I can take care of myself, but I argue that I can handle it. I just need to remember to breathe through my mouth. Although I’m miserable, I manage to pull through. It’s not easy, though. I mean, I do work in a restaurant and scents tend to waft in my general direction from time to time.

Jake and I decide to walk back to my place, seeing as it’s closer, and I head straight for the sofa. He sits up straight while I lay down, facing away from him with my head on his legs. He covers me with my favorite throw, gently massaging my scalp. For a guy who tends to be rough around the edges at times, he can be pretty damn sweet when he wants to be.

“You handled work like a champ,” he comments.

“Ugh. When Tess brought out that garlic risotto and set it in front of me, I almost lost it.”

“Feeling better?”

“Eh. A little.”

“Feel like eating something?” I groan in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’.” He presses his palm to my forehead. “Well, you still don’t feel feverish.”

“I told you. It’s just stress. I get this way sometimes.”

“Yeah. But I’ve never seen you like this,” he remarks.

“I’ll be fine, Jake. I just need to lay down for a few minutes.”

“Okay. If you say so.”

“Enough about me,” I begin. “Have you told Simone? You know, about your plans with Scott?”

He lets out a sigh, going back to massaging my scalp. “I did. A while back, actually.”

“And?”

“And ... she didn’t seem too enthusiastic.”

Typical Simone. Always poo-pooing on people’s dreams.

“You’re not giving up. Are you?”

“No. I still want to do it. It’s just ... it would be nice if I had her support.”

“Well, I still support you. I know I was in a hurry to get out of there this morning, but ... I really did see what Scott was talking about. And I think that you two could pull it off.” I pause. “And, just so you know, my offer to bartend still stands.”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to take a look at your résumé.”

“Ha, ha,” is my sarcastic response, just before I yawn.

“All right, Sleepy Beauty. Let’s get you to bed.”

I remind myself to sit up slowly, not wanting to get things started again. I don’t even bother with changing into pajamas, stripping down to my cami top and leggings instead. Jake makes sure that the garbage can is within my reach while I curl up on my side. After taking off his jacket and hoodie, and kicking off his boots, he lays down behind me with his chest pressed against my back and his arm around my waist.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” I say sleepily.

“You’re welcome,” he answers, kissing my shoulder.

I open my eyes and take note of the sunlight through the curtains. Before I move, I wait to see if I’m still nauseated. So far, so good. I sit up slowly, paying attention to my body and looking for any signs of trouble. Okay. So far, so good. Again. Realizing that it’s safe to do so, I get out of bed. Jake is still asleep, worn out from taking care of me. I smile at him and adjust the covers, pulling them up to his shoulder, and then make tracks for the bathroom. As I brush my teeth, I pay attention to my reflection in the mirror. I certainly don’t look sick. I mean, I definitely look tired. But my coloring seems perfectly healthy. Whatever it was, I seem to be over it.

I’m hungry, and I decide that I don’t feel like cooking. So I fix myself a bowl of cereal and eat a banana. Unfortunately, I’m not out of the woods just yet. The smell of freshly brewed coffee gets to me. Even though I don’t throw up, I want nothing more than to curl up and die. I decide that I don’t need coffee today, and I head straight for my sofa. Jake wanders out a few minutes later, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and stops to look at me.

“Again?”

“Yeah. I thought I was feeling better, but coffee nearly took me out. I’m dying, Jake.” All right. I admit it. When I’m sick, I tend to develop a flair for the dramatic.

I can hear a laugh in his voice. “You’re not dying,” he assures me.

“No, Jake. I’m dying. I have some weird, exotic disease. You’d better flee before you catch it, too.”

He presses his palm to my forehead again, shaking his head. “You still don’t have a fever. Maybe you should go to the doctor.”

“No. No doctor. I can get through this. I live in NYC, for crying out loud. I’ve faced worse things than this. Do you know how many bar fights I've lived through? I made it through yesterday. Didn't I?”

“Yeah. Barely. Did you eat anything?”

“Just cereal and a banana.”

Jake furrows his brows at me, looking genuinely concerned. “If this doesn’t let up in a few days, promise me you’ll go to a doctor.”

I think about it for a few moments, letting out a sigh. “Fine. Now, go enjoy the coffee that I can’t have,“ I complain as I wave him away.

@anastacia-lynn

@mypsychoticlove

#jake x oc sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitterstarz #sweetbitter #tom sturridge sweetbitter #tom sturridge

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soulmate-game · 3 years

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Hawkmoth was a bitch, and Marinette meant that with every fiber of her soul. Fu was also a bitch, and Marinette actually had good memories of the guy. Not many, but she had some. The fact that the guy got two ten-year-olds to become super heroes and fight a supervillain for him kinda soured those memories, though. But with Chat Noir not allowed to leave his house? Yeah, even as young as they were it only took about a year to find out who HawkMoth was and another year to take him down.

Except, that left Marinette alone. The final battle took her mom away, and Chat had to move out of Paris after his dad was arrested. Luckily Jagged allowed her and her papa to move into his house in Gotham, and everything was…

Well, it was okay. For about a month.

Then her dad was gone too, and she had no way to talk to Jagged, and the police were scaring her—

Yeah, that was the basic order of events that led to where she was now. Pushing fourteen years old, ex-superhero, protector of a magical box of gods, stealing the tires off of a very nice motorcycle.

Marinette was tempted to just take the whole thing, she loved bikes and knew she could drive it. But the thing had more security than she knew what to do with, and the fact that it belonged to Red Hood… she didn’t want to deal with trackers today, thanks. So the tires it was.

Should she maybe care more about the fact that she was stealing from a vigilante with a violent streak? Maybe. Did she? Hell no. For all she knew, maybe Red Hood was a bitch too. (Yes, she was still learning English slang. She was fluent by educational standards, but learning how to curse in a foreign language was fun and she still had a little bit to go. Her few street friends were very happy to help).

A shadow dropped down in front of her, and Marinette’s hero instincts kicked in. The tire iron she was using cut through the air, slamming right into the side of Red Hood’s knee.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Hood,” Batman’s voice grumbled over the comms, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone else who was on the comms. It wasn’t as gruff as he usually sounded, in fact it almost sounded like… he was trying not to laugh?

“Did you get gassed by Joker?” Dick asked before Jason got a chance to respond. “Need backup?”

“No,” Batman responded, sounding a little more composed. “Not a rogue. But Hood, I need you to join me at my location as soon as possible.”

Finally getting the chance to talk, Jason responded a little warily; “Sure, B. Wait,” he blinked at the location that was sent to him. “Isn’t that where my bike is parked?”

Batman didn’t respond at first, only the sound of labored breathing— again, as if he was trying not to laugh. “Just get here, Hood.”

Sighing, but not too mad since the night had been fairly quiet so far, Jason decided to humor the old man and head over. When he could see the cape-clad back of Batman, he easily leapt over the last roof and sauntered over.

“Okay, B,” he had his thumbs tucked in his pockets as he drawled. “What’s the issue?”

Batman was grinning. As in, actually showing amusement. And he just pointed down, straight at Hood’s bike.

Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet, turning to look. At first he didn’t see anything amiss, until he saw movement and looked harder. Oh. Oh, holy shit.

“Is that a kid?”

“Yep,” Batman’s grin grew.

“Is she… stealing my tires?” Hood was so, so glad he wore a helmet that hid his expression. Because… wow.

“Yep,” Batman finally lost his composure, chuckling. “This seems like Karma, don’t you think?”

“And you just watched her so you could rub it in,” Jason groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. Of course he would. Nobody knew it (except the other heroes who knew him) but Batman was a petty little jerk when he wanted to be. He bought the whole Daily Planet just to spite Clark, for crying out loud.

“Don’t adopt her,” Batman said as he stood up, patting Red Hood’s shoulder. “It looks like she’s almost done.”

“Shit,” Jason hissed, looking down to see that she was, actually, very close to being done. She had already had one tire completely free by the time he had arrived, and now she was only seconds away from getting the other one completely free.

He took a quick assessment— she was tiny, and really thin. Definitely a street kid, he thought, though he didn’t recognize her. He knew most of the street kids that stole to get by, nowadays, which meant she must have been fairly new. But even though she seemed to know what she was doing, her small frame made her take longer unscrewing the tires than it normally would have taken. Sure that she wasn’t a threat by any stretch of the imagination, he jumped down. His plan had been to startle her a little by showing up out of nowhere, but he didn’t want to scare her too badly. Just make her jump a little.

But he had underestimated her, it seemed. Without wasting a second, she jumped up and swung her tire iron at his knee. He cursed, she was a lot faster than her had been expecting. He was able to move so that the weapon only clipped the side of his knee, his knee pad thankfully taking the worst of it. She still hit hard enough to make him stumble and hiss in pain though, which was an accomplishment.

That’s when she abandoned her weapon and her tires, darting to try and escape only for Batman to drop down and block her escape. Though really, it was the grin Batman had that scared the girl most of all, apparently, making her slowly back away from him.

“Please stop smiling,” she begged with a faint French accent to her words. “It is not natural.”

That made Red Hood laugh, already recovered and right behind her. He plopped a gloved hand on her head.

“I know, it’s creepy right?” He joked. “What’cha doin’ stealing my tires, kid? I kinda need them to drive anywhere,” he was careful to keep his voice light and devoid of any anger. He wasn’t really upset, all told. It would be hypocritical of him if he was.

She looked between the two vigilantes for a moment, clear intelligence behind those bright blue eyes as she seemed to consider something. Suddenly she pulled away from Red Hood and stepped away from his reach, straightening up and trying to look tall.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said as firmly as she could. “My father was Tom Dupain, he was killed in a mugging three months ago. We were living in a house that our family friend leant to us after my mother’s death six months ago, and we moved here from Paris. I haven’t been able to contact him, and the police… I don’t trust them,” she admitted, clearly seeing this as the chance she had been waiting for. “I have been living on the streets since my father died. I am sorry for trying to steal your tires, Monsieur Red Hood. But it was a risk I had to take.”

“Did you expect us to catch you?” He asked, crossing his arms as he re-evaluated the girl. She was a lot stronger than he had assumed earlier, both physically and mentally. She seesawed her hand to indicate ‘kinda’.

“Even if you didn’t, I could make good money off your tires,” she justified with a shrug. “To me, I would win either way.”

“Who is your family friend? Can he help you now, take you in?” Batman asked, moving forward and kneeling down to be closer to Marinette’s height. Neither he nor Jason had missed the part where she was an orphan, but they had expected that considering what they had caught her doing. And they both knew that she wasn’t likely to take any apologies they tried to offer very well. It was best not to show pity, or she might get angry.

Marinette frowned. “... Our family friend is Jagged Stone. He lets me call him Uncle Jagged,” she told them, clearly expecting the disbelieving grunts they gave. “I mean it! You can call him, he might even be looking for me! I—“

“We know,” Hood assured her, now kneeling down as well. Man, she was short. “Calm down, we know you’re telling the truth. Jagged has made several public announcements about his missing honorary niece, we just didn’t recognize your name right away. And Jagged doesn’t have access to very many pictures of you, those he does have the Mayor isn’t allowing him to show because that spineless jackass—“

“Language, Hood.”

“—Cares more about keeping bad press off the air than finding a kid, even if it’s a world famous rockstar who’s asking. That’s probably why you haven’t heard anything, the mayor’s keeping it off the radio and not many reporters are brave enough to take the story and get on his bad side.”

“Oh…” Marinette took a deep breath, fighting the tears that were threatening to rise up. “He has been looking…” she sniffled, curling in on herself a little. “Can you take me to him?”

“I think we can do that,” Batman agreed, standing up. “I’ll contact him. Red Hood, can you handle everything here until I give you a place to meet up with Jagged Stone?”

Jason nodded. “No problem, B. Come on, little rabid pixie. Step one of gettin’ you back to your uncle is to help me fix my bike back up.”

Marinette sighed, shoulders dropping. “All my hard work, undone…” she playfully complained. But in the end she didn’t argue or fight against it, she just sat down and helped him reattach his tires.

All the while, Jason’s family kept teasing him over the comms. Clearly they were also thoroughly amused by the cosmic display of karma.

“...Monsieur Hood,” Marinette asked once they were done repairing the motorcycle and he had given her his too-big extra helmet. He tilted his head a bit to show he was listening. She squirmed. “Can… can we stop by my hideout? I have something really important I have to get.”

Jason smiles gently under his mask. She might not have been a street kid for very long, but she really did bring back some memories for him. He got on his bike and held a hand out to her.

“Sure thing kid. Wanna grab something to eat after? Can’t have a reunion on an empty stomach.”

She gave him a lopsided smile— not quite overjoyed, but definitely hopeful and thankful. Maybe this was the end of her streak of bad luck, she could only hope.

“Only if you don’t mind, Monsieur Hood,” she agreed before taking his hand and letting him help her onto the bike.

“No skin off my back, pixie,” he assured her. Then they were off. He followed her directions until they got to an abandoned building about three miles away, not in a good part of town at all but at least not in crime alley. Marinette easily led him through the building, skirting around other piles of ratty blankets and up broken stairs until they got to the badly-maintained top floor. She led him over to an almost invisible door in the concrete wall that pulled out to reveal what was probably a broom closet once upon a time. It was crowded with what looked like junk and empty boxes, along with a few blankets and two or three changes of clothes that were clearly her’s. A few belongings scattered around— a book, a small pink purse, and… Marinette came out of the pile of mess holding what had clearly been a very carefully hidden box. She also grabbed the purse and slung it over her shoulder, but didn’t seem worried about anything else.

Jason frowned at the box. It wasn’t that big, but it was clearly made of old wood. There were intricate carvings that were painted pink, in a symbol that was itching at the back of his mind. He recognized that symbol, but from where?

“Ready to go, kid?” He asked as he thought about it, getting a nod from Marinette. Twenty minutes later they were at a Batburger, sitting in a shaded booth that couldn’t be seen from the street.

She never let the box out of her sight. She kept it on the seat next to her, and Jason noticed that she tried to keep one hand on it at all times. But when she spoke, now her French accent stood out to him even more than before. But why—?

And then it clicked. Paris. Hawkmoth. Ladybug, Chat Noir, magic artifacts called Miraculous. Wonder Woman had raised a fuss when the heroes disappeared, declaring that something was wrong but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Then the magic users they trusted were called in, and returned from Paris with the grim news that the former Guardian of those artifacts had activated a failsafe and passed the guardianship on to someone else while erasing his own memories at the same time. But nobody knew who he could have passed it on to, so Batman had been given the green light to do all the research he and his team could into the Miraculous box to try and help track it down.

And here it was. The carvings were in pink now, which might have been the “cosmetic change” that Constantine had mentioned might happen when the box changed guardians. He had found the box full of super powerful magical artifacts… in the hands of a newly orphaned street kid who couldn’t have been older than fourteen at best.

What the hell?

“...” Red hood reached into his pocket and pulled out an old receipt and a sharpie. He scrawled on the back of the receipt and handed to Marinette. The girl was halfway into a bite of her burger when he did, and blinked at him owlishly before swallowing and cautiously reaching out to grab it. She frowned at the numbers scrawled there.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“My contact info,” he explained. “I won’t ask questions about why you have that box,” he watched her instantly stiffen but continued as casually as he could; “but it doesn’t matter. You can call me if you ever need help with anything, kid. Help with that box, help if you get in trouble in Gotham again, or even if you’re having a bad day. You can call me for whatever, got it? I don’t care if you think it’s stupid, if you can’t talk to anyone else in your life you can always call or text me and I’ll do whatever I can. Got it?”

“...” Marinette sniffled for a second and looked down at the table in silence for a second. “... what if I want your motorcycle?” she joked, but the watery tone of her voice gave her away.

Jason laughed, patting her head. “I need my bike, but we can talk about getting you your own once you are old enough to get a license. You almost done? Bats says that Jagged is ready to meet you, I can take you to him right now.”

“Yeah, lets go!” she was newly energized and shoved the last bite of burger into her mouth greedily. “And Red Hood?” She asked as they headed out to where he had parked.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Thanks.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Permanent tag list (I remembered it this time!)

@rosalineandrosemary @neakco @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @trippingovermyfeet @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @bigpicklebananatree @fantasylover-92 @prongs-flowers @jumpingjoy82 @prettylittlebutterflie @queenz-z @literaryhiraeth @waffelyunsure @deathssilentapproach-blog @waiting247 @theirlmikan @unoriginalmess

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #soulmate-game #platonic jasonette

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shurisneakers · 3 years

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harmless (iv)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, guns, mention of war, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: good evening i’ve never been to any of the places i mention in this series so dont come @ me

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He spends the weekend doing nothing. It’s supposed to be relaxing. He finds it nauseatingly boring.

“No mini mission this week?” Steve asks him from across the couch.

They’re supposed to be catching up on Star Wars but two prequels in and Bucky could feel himself lose his sanity. Anyone could present him with a random assortment of alphabets, call it a Star Wars species and he would have no reason not to believe them.

It’s not like he doesn’t like space. It’s just that he’s had enough of it and everything and everyone who came from it for the foreseeable future.

“No. Someone else is taking care of it.”

“Didn’t you volunteer for this?”

“I pulled myself out of the case.”

“I thought you were having fun.”

Bucky’s head slowly turns to look at him. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. “Looked like you were.”

Well, he wasn’t. He likes it here at home, glued to the TV. Popcorn beside him, sweatpants on. Refreshing, calming, slow, mundane, and Jesus Christ, so fucking boring-

His spiralling is interrupted by the dinging of the elevator to the common floor. No one was allowed up there unless it was extremely urgent. Guests were barely allowed into the Tower as it was.

It reveals the receptionist from downstairs, Marie. She’s always a little reserved, a little shy. But Bucky had seen her chew and spit out trespassers or anyone who dared to get on her nerve. He adores her.

“Hey, Marie,” Steve says while Bucky sends her a friendly wave in greeting. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a hostage situation downtown,” she informs them.

“Okay...” Steve drawls, waiting for a reason why this was an Avengers level threat.

“They’ve asked for Mr. Barnes by name.” She makes a mention towards him.

Bucky sits up straight. Bits of popcorn fall off his chest.

“What?”

“They said, and I quote-” she looks down at her notepad. “‘Tell that grumpy motherfucker that I’m waiting for him and that he’s not getting out of this so easily because we have come too far.’ End quote. They’ve also told me to include a kissing emoji. And a skull.”

Steve and he look at each other.

“Well?” Steve prods.

Bucky sighs and gets up to go get ready.

The entrance of Chuck E. Cheese is more crowded than he’d ever seen. He wasn’t even sure he’d seen people in the store before. If there were, they probably only came up till his waist.

There are a few journalists, a few policemen standing together outside. Whispers of confusion and curiosity reigned free.

Bucky gently pushes his way to the front. He gets a nod from a police officer who opens the door for him after a quick briefing.

The place is darker than it usually would be. A trademark, it seemed. The blinds are drawn shut and most of the light is coming through whatever sneaks in through the crack.

“Hey, Barnes.” Your voice is muffled by a mask that looks suspiciously like it was made out of classroom craft supplies.

There’s a person in a loose chokehold in your hand with a gun pressed against his head. Once again it looks straight out of a cartoon, purple with round disks lining its barrel.

“What’s all this now?” He gestures around monotonously.

“A hostage situation. Didn’t you get the memo?”

“Got that part down, genius,” he bites back. “But why?”

“Fucker kept harassing me when I was walkin’ down the street.”

The guy’s helpless gaze met Bucky.

“Catcalling me, stalking me.” You tighten the grip you have on him. “Call me darlin’ one more time, you son of a bitch. I dare you.”

He wasn’t impressed with his pleading eyes. He kinda felt like he deserved it.

“Why’d you do it here?” The bright colours were starting to give him a heading. “And where are the staff?”

“It’s symbolic, Bucky,” you emphasise, “He deserves to be among other rat bastards.”

Of course.

“The staff?” he asks again.

“Gave them thirty bucks and told them to leave. I’m not a monster.”

“Right.” He doesn’t bother refuting you. “Why’d you call me here?”

“Dunno.” You shrug. “Thought it’d be fun. You having fun yet?”

You shake the guy you’re holding. He gives a small whimper.

Bucky doesn’t want to stop you. He had chugged enough Respect Juice in his lifetime to know that this guy probably deserved a threat or two.

Hell, he’d even help but you were more than capable of handling this on your own.

“Listen,” he sighed. “As much as I’m sure he deserves it, this is technically illegal and I’m required to stop you.”

“Sorry sarge, I thought you weren’t interested in playing this stupid game with me,” you mock, voice dropping to imitate him.

“I’m not.” It wasn’t entirely true. One Saturday with Jar Jar Binks had convinced him otherwise.

“Okay, so before you leave, do me a favour and call Hawkeye. I hear he looks mighty fine when he’s annoyed.”

His face involuntarily scrunched up. You were going to replace him with Clint? Clint?

He probably took it more as an insult than he should have.

“I’m not doing that.” Bless his foul mouthed friend, but he was a little shit who was too sarcastic for his own good. At least twice a week he’d say something stupid to Bucky and then take out his hearing aids when he tried to argue back.

“You’re leavin’ me with no options here,” you groaned, using your thumb to flip a switch. The gun looks like it powered up, lights along the side turning red.

If he let you have this, it’d be a bad look for the Avengers.

New York man dies in Chuck E. Cheese lone hostage situation, unable to be saved by same superhero who tried to fight Thanos with a machine gun.

“Tell ya what,” he says instead, “If you kill him, there won’t even be a slight chance that you’ll see me again.”

Your grip on the gun falters.

“If I let him go...”

“I might consider coming back next week.” He’s trying to spin it, make it look like he’s the one with the upper hand here. “But you gotta let him go.”

You search his face for any signs of dishonesty.

“Let him go or you’ll never see me again.” It sounds too much like Clint’s arguments with his dog who brought a live squirrel into the house.

“Fine,” you relent, a glint in your eye. “but say goodbye to this fuckface.”

Before Bucky can open his mouth to shout in protest, you pull the trigger. The man clenches his eyes shut, face red.

He expects blood to be splatter across his face.

Nothing happens.

A barrage of bubbles floats into the room.

“I meant it literally,” you say, pushing him off you. “Say goodbye. He’s leaving.”

The man stumbles to the ground and Bucky doesn’t make any attempt to catch him. He scrambles to his knees, picking himself up and scurrying out the door to a hoard of reporters.

The door shuts behind him with the chime of a bell.

“You’re annoying,” Bucky states, giving a small sigh.

“I’m well aware of that.” You pull off the mask, wiping the sweat off your brow.

“Where is the agent assigned to your case?”

“Dunno. Last I saw he was crying on the driveway of my lair. I just figured he’d pick himself up later so I left him there.”

Bucky’s nose twitches.

“You weren’t actually going to kill him, were you.” He shrugs with his shoulder towards the door. It wasn’t a question, more a statement. He knew you wouldn’t.

“I could have.”

“But you weren’t going to,” he repeats.

“No,” you admit. “I wasn’t. But I’m glad to see you showed up.”

“You held someone hostage as leverage.”

“No, no. I held someone hostage and then asked to see you. They were completely unrelated.”

“You’re evil.”

“You jumped to conclusions,” you point out. “Would you like a trampoline next time? Maybe a pogo stick, you clown?”

He has a very real gun in his holster. His very real metal death arm aches to use it.

“No one else agreed to come,” he deflects.

“We both know that’s a lie. You were going to come back anyway.” You stuff the bubble gun back into the bag. “I’m deliciously irresistible.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.” You give him a smirk and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, you win this round, sarge.”

He doesn’t say anything. He watches you remove your heist gear, revealing normal civilian clothes underneath.

You walk casually to the kitchen, intending to leave through the back door.

“But I can’t say I lost either.” You send him a wink before swiftly pushing open the door and leaving him behind.

He only watches you leave.

It doesn’t hit him until a few seconds later that he let a criminal out of his hands when there were several policemen and journalists outside.

He entertains the idea of chasing you down and handing you over.

It takes him only a few seconds to decide that if they wanted you, they’d have to try themselves.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

The Writer (Tommy Shelby X Fem.Reader) - Part One

Warning - SMUT (eventually)

Request? Yes

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @heidimoreton

You looked in the mirror, straightening out your dress and taking a deep breath. Your boss David, who also happened to be your older brother, had arranged a meeting with you in the offices of the Birmingham Herald at 6pm sharp.

On the way there, you couldn't help but marvel at how you'd ended up here. Your husband had died two years after returning from war having suffered severe injuries, and after you'd taken on his job at the Herald while he was away fighting, falling ill on his return and subsequently dying, your brother, the editor, had kept you on so you weren't destitute. It was against all the principles of the time, a woman working, but your brother never once allowed the other men at the newspaper to talk down to you. You were the best storyteller and strongest journalist they had on the books and he would always have your back. The other men had grown to look at you as a sister almost - you were blessed to be in the position you were in.

Arriving at the Herald, you made your way to David's office.

"Y/n, I'm sorry to call you in this evening..." He smiled, embracing you and offering you a whiskey which you gladly accepted.

"I never have evening plans David, you know that. What was so important it couldn't wait til morning?"

"We've had an incredible offer and I want you to be the one to report it. The story is made for you."

"What is it?"

"Thomas Shelby has agreed to an article on his life to date!"

"Thomas Shelby? As in the Peaky Blinders?! Not a fucking chance David..." You recoiled in horror. You knew the man's history very well, you'd gone to school with his younger brother John and the stories of the Peaky Blinders were infamous. You hated the man - the thought of interviewing him mad your stomach turn.

"This story could launch your career into the big time Y/n! Think about it! The most secretive, elusive man in the country wants to tell his story to you!"

"To the Herald."

"No, y/n, to YOU. He asked for you. By name."

"How the hell does he know my name?" You'd written your articles under a male pen name so as not to distract readers from the content. Not all men were as modern as your brother and coworkers.

"No idea, but he specifically asked for you."

You mind turned - no one knew you worked at the Herald. You'd kept yourself to yourself, even moving out of Small Heath after your husband passed away. You'd lost touch with John just before he went off to war. There was no connection to the Shelby family at all.

"The reason I dragged you in at 6pm is because he wants to make a start today. This evening actually, there's a car picking you up in 30 minutes."

"David!! I can't do this interview for goodness sake, I'm not even close to prepared!"

"You have 30 minutes! Pull your finger out!" He laughed.

You'd crammed as much as possible in that 30 minutes as you could - your mind was whirring at 70miles per hour when the silver Bentley pulled up outside. Glaring at David, who simply smirked in response, you got in the car as the driver greeted you.

"Arrow House ma'am, won't take long to get there," the driver smiled as you asked him where he was taking you. Arrow House? His home? Why would the most secretive man in Birmingham want to meet you in his sanctuary?

************************************************************

Pulling up outside the huge mansion, you couldn't help but be impressed. The gardens were immaculate.

A middle aged lady greeted you at the front door and offered to take your coat. You smiled and handed it over, as she led you through to the dining room. You took the seat she offered.

"Would you like some tea Ms. Y/L/N?" You nodded, and she signalled one of the younger maids to action.

"Mr Shelby will be with you in a moment, please make yourself comfortable," the lady smiled warmly and headed out the door with your coat. You looked around the room. A large painting on one wall of the man himself with a large horse. There was a smaller picture on a cabinet just underneath that caught your eye. A beautiful blond woman, with piercing eyes and a loving smile, holding a small boy in her arms. You didn't know Thomas was married, let alone had a son. The house didn't seem to have much of a feminine feel to it though, it was borderline drab in its decor.

"My wife, Grace. And my son Charles." A voice behind you startled you, and you turned to see Thomas himself walking towards you, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a cigarette in the other.

"She's beautiful, Mr Shelby. And your son is adorable," you smiled, but he didn't return it.

"She certainly was." Your eyes grew wide as the realisation of what he'd said sunk in.

"Oh I'm sorry -"

"No need. It was a long time ago. Shall we get this over with Ms Y/L/N?" You nodded and he led you out of the dining room into a smaller one - clearly an office. The large oak desk sprawled out in front of the bay window. You took your seat opposite his at the desk and pulled out your pen and pad as he poured himself another whiskey. You shook your head when he offered you one, drinking the tea the young maid have brought in to you instead.

Your questions for him were simple at first. You asked about his childhood in Small Heath. His schooling. His childhood friends. Pretty much all one word answers, driving you insane, until you asked about his brothers.

"You knew John, didn't you?" He asked.

"Yes. Same year at school."

"Sadly, he's no longer with us. Shot by the Italians last year." You heart dropped - you heard through the grapevine that John had children and a wife and the news hit you like a freight train. You took a breath and a moment to compose yourself.

"I'm so sorry Mr Shelby..."

"I'm sorry too, I didn't realise you were so close?"

"We were close before the war. Lost touch after that."

"I don't remember seeing you with him?"

"My father wouldn't let me see him, so we had to be careful.."

"You and John were..."

"No no.. god no! Just friends Mr Shelby." He went quiet again, and sipped his whiskey.

Back to the questions. Mundane as they were, you needed them to get the full story. He wasn't forthcoming with the details. You had to really press him, but he spent most of his time drinking his whiskey and looking out of the window at the dark clouds rolling in outside.

"Listen, Mr Shelby, you clearly don't want this any more than I do so please, if you don't mind, I'd like to end the interview here." Your voice was stern, patience had officially gone out of the window he was so fixated with.

"Jack said you were feisty." You froze at mention of your late husband's name.

"How did you know Jack?"

"We served together in France. Good man."

"Is that how you knew my name?" He didn't answer, just nodded, again watching the weather changing quickly outside.

"Storm looks bad."

"If I leave now I should be fine." The first rumble of thunder made you jump, Tommy noticed your fear instantly.

"Scared of storms?"

"They used to scare Jack.." a second rumble had you grasping onto the chair.

"Stay until it passes." Was that a request or an order.. you weren't sure but he took your hand gently and led you into the hallway away from the window, into the main dining room again.

"Frances, have the curtains closed please." He spoke to the older woman who greeted you at the door and she dutifully obliged, closing the curtains in the large windows.

Tommy sat you at the table and gave you his glass of whiskey, your shaky hands accepting it this time. Every thunderstorm brought flashbacks of Jack's terror filled eyes.. his anguished cries of pain.. and ultimately the sound of the gun he placed at his temple before he took his own life. You took a sip of the warm liquid as Tommy sat beside you, a fresh glass of his own in his hand.

"Jack saved my life."

"He did?"

"Yes. We were underground digging.. we could hear the Germans on the other side of the dirt digging towards us... They broke through first and grabbed me. Jack beat them to death with his hammer to get them off me." Tommy's memory made you smile, and you laughed gently.

"He was always brave.. and strong. Put everyone else first. He never told me.."

"He never wanted praise, it was just part of his job. In return.. I said if anything happened to him I would make sure you were looked after."

"What?"

"The men at your office? They're under my watch. They respect you because you're a damn good writer, but they also know if they gave you any shit..." He raised his eyebrow and you couldn't help but smile. Even after his death, he was making sure you were okay. That was the Jack you wanted to remember.

"In that case Mr Shelby, I thank you."

"Call me Tommy eh? Here's to the bravest man in France." He clinked his glass with yours and you felt him almost begin to relax.

"I noticed a piano in the hall - do you play?"

"I did as a boy. My mother was a keen player, I used to watch her all the time. Gave it up after she died."

"I played for Jack all the time. It soothed him when he couldn't sleep." He smiled, a warm genuine smile that you couldn't help but return.

You'd spent the evening drinking whiskey and talking with Tommy, the whiskey hitting you much quicker than it did him, and you could feel your eyelids growing heavier.

"I have a spare room upstairs y/n, maybe stay tonight, I'll have my driver take you home in the morning." He stood before you had chance to argue and you followed him up the stairs.

He led you into a beautiful bedroom, the decor in here much more appealing than downstairs and the large oak double bed even more so.

"I don't want to impose Thomas..."

"That storm isn't letting up any time soon, and you're exhausted. You're welcome to stay. There's fresh clothes in the wardrobe. My wife was the same build as you, they should fit. I'll have my driver take you home at 7am. Goodnight Y/n..." His blue eyes lingered on yours a moment and you felt a rush of something you hadn't felt in a long time... Scaring you. Quickly looking away, you bid him goodnight.

#tommy shelby x smut #tommy x fem!reader #tommy x y/n #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x smut

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imaslutforremusandsirius · 3 years

Text

Mutual longing

It’s 03:43 and I missed writing James, uf i love this one

Warning: 18+

---

Oh, James is a breathtaking sight. With his dark hair and twinkling eyes, his tall toned body and charming smile. His smooth voice and irresistible accent. He is the whole package.

Lost in thought you imagined him fucking you against the wall, his big hand over your mouth to contain your moans as he pounded you aggressively-

„Hey“ Lily chirped, leaning over the table to give you a friendly hug, „Sorry I‘m late, head girl shit.“

You hugged her back, acting as if you didn‘t just imagine getting absolutely railed by the fellow head boy.

„Don‘t worry ‘bout it. Haven‘t been long anyway.“

Lily rolled her eyes and gave you a teasing smile.

„Knowing you, you probably showed up fifteen minutes early to be polite. You can give me shit you know, I deserve it.“

You laughed lightly before you furrowed your brows dramatically and held up a finger much like Professor McGonagall when she lectured the marauders again.

„Lily Evans you little shit. Hopefully you will have a long dreadful nightmare for the shit you put me through!“

Lily smirked at you and nodded, impressed with your choice of words.

„That would be James trying to hug me again, so no thank you.“ She clapped her hands. „Right, lets start.“

You couldn‘t help but think of just how fucking hot it would be to be in James‘ strong arm. Breathless moans and impatient hands tugging down your skirt. His hands all over your body, slowly moving down towards your-

Fuck.

---

Sometime during your meetup Remus appeared and sat down with you. Then came Peter. With him Sirius and of course James.

„I swear Black if you don‘t shut the fuck up“ Lily said forcefully, very close to yelling, „I‘m gonna beat your stupid face with this book!“

Sirius’ wand fell from between his clenched jaw, he was trying to impersonate a growling dog, and he rolled his eyes.

„Calm down, Evans. Besides, Remus would totally not appreciate that, considering my face is number one in his list of“, he cleared his throat theatrically, „Reasons why Sirius Black is the most enchanting being I‘ve ever fucked.“

Remus, already used to Sirius‘ crude remarks, just continued to read his book, his index finger tracing shapes on Sirius‘ palm absentmindedly.

„I agree“ Remus mumbled, missing the way Sirius blushed and melted with his next words, „Sirius is enchanting.“

Sirius, content with the attention he got, leaned his head against his boyfriends shoulder and finally shut his mouth. Lily smiled gratefully at Remus, who send her a wink, the corner of his lips pulling up slightly to show that he had said it on purpose. Not that they needed to know just how accurate Sirius had been with the list.

You threw a glance at James and saw him engrossed with his potions textbook, lips moving silently as he read through the pages. Taking the time to admire him from up close, you watched how his brows would furrow and ease up whenever he worked out a problem, how he would bite his lip in concentration or scratch his nose and push up his glasses when they slipped down his nose.

Truly handsome. Sex on legs.

Fuck why can‘t he just touch you already.

For someone who flirts on the daily he sure was oblivious to girls who were actually interested in him. And not gay, unlike Lily, who literally had a pin on her bag with the lesbian flag on it.

Might get a pin with “Fuck me James“ printed on it. Maybe then he‘ll know, you thought bitterly.

You had already planned a whole color scheme for the pins when a foot nudged your shin under the table and forced you out of your head.

„Need help“ James whispered and slid his worksheet over to you, „Please?“

Oh hell yes. No need to beg, Potter.

„Sure“ You said, congratulating yourself for sounding confident, „Give me a min.“

Reading through the question your took a moment to think about the answer, scribbling it down yourself instead of telling him. You weren‘t sure how long you could gaze into his eyes and act like you didn‘t have wet dreams about him.

Satisfied you looked back up and noticed him already looking at you, or more specifically your mouth.

A devilish idea crossed your mind. Oh, yes.

Acting as if you were still thinking, you bit your lip softly, tracing your bottom lip with your tongue to leave it glistening pink. James swallowed, hand loosening his tie and he lowered his head with blushing cheeks.

„Here“ You smiled, gently sliding the paper back to him and shivered a little when your fingertips touched.

His fingers had to business being so close to the top of the sheet, considering he was sitting across from you and could have just grabbed the bottom part. Hope flared in your chest when you saw him just as taken aback by the touch and you basked in the radiant grin he shot you from under his mop of hair.

Your stomach swarmed with butterflies and you let out a small breath, thighs clenching.

Oh James.

„I should get going“ You said after a while, not in the mood to study anymore.

James‘ head whipped up and he got up as well, packing his bag in time with you. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you refrained from making your excitement too obvious.

„Yeah me too, I‘m tired. Goodnight.“ James rushed and gently pulled you along by the strap of your bag.

The others just grumbled in response, Sirius fast asleep and drooling while Remus waved his hand dismissively. Lily muttered a quick, „I‘ll join in a few minutes“, which actually translates to hours.

Since the others aren‘t here I could have some alone time with James.

Oh shit, there goes your brain. It was really creative when it came to imagening James‘ moans, considering you never heard them before. Or his dick. Fuck.

You silently made your way upstairs and sadly it was an awkward one. Frankly you blamed James for being so hot that you literally had no clue what to say, not knowing that he thought the exact same thing. Sure he is all for, „Everyone can wear what they bloody want“ and he had proven that point by wearing skirts multiple times, but fuck-

You in that skirt has to be criminal by some kind of law right? Has to be a sin in some kind of religion? And don‘t get him started on your lips-

James shook his head to get rid of the mental images and focused on his breathing. Praying that you wouldn’t see his boner.

Somehow you had made it to the empty common room and turned to each other at the same time to say goodnight. Both of you had not considered the distance between your faces, which proved to be extremely short with your noses bumping painfully.

„I‘m so-“

Your words died down when James kissed you hard, his big hands - oh those big, callous hands you‘ve been dreaming about for weeks finally touching your cheeks to pull you impossibly close.

Stunned by his sudden desire to kiss you, you pulled your head away to look into his face and what you saw made you smash your lips on his and his back against the wall.

His quiet, absolutely submissive noises shot straight into your blood and you press your hips against his to hear more of it. His arms were wrapped around your neck, hands buried in your hair as he opened your legs with his knee to press his thigh between your legs.

The rough fabric of his pants made you shudder and your hands slid down his upper body until you got to his cock. James head sank against the wall with a dirty moan as you put your hand in his pants to touch him. Shit, his skin was so soft and hot and he already has precum on the tip.

James lips met yours sloppily as he pushed you backwards onto the couch and sank down between you legs on the ground, moving your feet to rest on the cushion. He clearly didn‘t have any more patience in him and made quick work of pushing your panties aside to rub his fingers against your soaking entrance.

„Come on, James“ You moaned, bucking against him when he finally pushed two fingers inside.

„Mmm look at you“ James groaned out, leaving kisses along your inner thighs and let out wanton sound when your cunt clenched around him.

You didn‘t care about anything but his fingers fucking you at this point, whining when the cool metal of his ring pressed against your clit. You jerked at the hot sensation of his tongue curling around your clit, greedily sucking your pussy lips into his mouth.

„Oh James!“ You whimpered breathlessly, pulling his face so close that his nose was smushed against your lower belly, feeling the vibrations of every moan he let out shoot directly to your cunt.

Pulling him up by his hair you kissed him again, panting into his open mouth when he kept pistoning his fingers into your cunt.

„Please let me fuck you“ James begged needily, brows pinched in longing to feel you around his throbbing cock, „Please I can‘t wait anymore!“

Instead of answering, you pushed his pants down with your heels and trapped him between your legs. James hissed in relief when he felt some kind of friction on his cock and eased himself inside.

„Oh“ James let out a broken whimper, head thrown back in sheer bliss, „Feel so good.“

You couldn’t answer, way to enamored with the way he stretched you open so deliciously, watching his cock push into your body. Oh fuck, the sight was so dirty and crass and yet you couldn‘t take your eyes off him.

„James“ You gasped with difficulty, „James please ‘m‘gonna cum!“

James bend your legs so they were over his shoulders and pounded you harshly, face screwed up in ecstasy with the way you cried out his name. Your moans cut off only to be replaced by sobs when the tip of his cock hit your g-spot over and over again.

„Yes yes yes“ James chanted, pressing his forehead on yours to stare at your dazed expression, „tell me how you feel!“

Your shook your head quickly, signaling him that you couldn‘t possibly form a coherent sentence, but his persisted.

„Tell me how you feel!“ James hissed, thumb suddenly on your clit and you broke.

„Good good so fucking good“ You cried, latching on his body to encourage him to fuck you harder.

„Prove it“ James moaned brokenly, „Cum for me!“

His other hand wrapped around your delicate throat and squeezed firmly, making you tip over the edge and cry out your release. James‘ orgasm made him tremble so violently that he couldn‘t hold himself up anymore, collapsing on your chest with a deep throaty whimper as he filled your cunt with his hot cum.

„Fuck yes“ James ground out, hips still pushing in and out of you, like he couldn’t bear the thought of stopping. He raised his head to watch you, his pupils still dilated, pink lips quivering with aftershocks.

James looked absolutely wrecked and satisfied. He stared at you as if staring at a goddess, nuzzling close to hear your heartbeat.

„You okay?“ James asked quietly and tucked himself back in to help you clean up.

„Yeah, perfect.“ You grinned, letting him help you up and pull you towards his dorm.

He gave you a playful smile, but you saw the slight nervousness in his eyes.

„Stay?“

God, yes. Finally. Fuck those pins, who needs them.

„Yes.“

#james potter x you #james potter smut #marauders smut #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n

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midgardianweasley · 3 years

Text

Keep you safe

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Avenger!reader

Summary: When the civil war breaks out among the team, what happens when you find yourself and your girlfriend on opposite sides of the fight?

Warnings: Extremely minor cursing, angst, injury, ends in fluff

Word Count: 1.8k words

Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist <3

Requests are open!

“Vision, you can’t keep her prisoner here” I announced to what seemed like a brick wall. The S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting was only this morning and already it felt like the team was beginning to drift. Tony and Steve were fighting, not being able to agree on where they stand regarding the Sokovia Accords and whether we should sign our rights away. Wanda, not being a US citizen and having been a big part of the incident in Sokovia, has been put under Vision’s watch for protection. But from what i’ve seen, I think Wanda can protect herself just fine.

“It’s not imprisonment, Y/N, this is for her safety.”

“Safety? She’s fully capable of walking to the shops on her own.”

“I think some members of the team would disagree, Nata-”

“Don’t, Vision. Please.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead, the stress going straight to my temples upon remembering the events from this morning with my girlfriend.

Nat and I had just walked out of the meeting room, thoughts flooding both of our heads. We were exhausted, the emergency meeting not giving us enough time to wake up with a coffee before having to be fully functional. My head was resting on her shoulder, her head on top of mine as we stood in an abandoned corridor, revelling in the peace and quiet. It was a few minutes before one of us decided to speak up.

“You okay, голубка?” She whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head before returning to her previous position.

“Mhmm, I think so. My head is officially fried though and it’s not even 9am yet.”

“We’ll get some coffee in us soon.”

“I think we’ve earned it” I mumbled, earning a slight chuckle from the both of us, returning back to the silence for only a couple of minutes before a thought crossed my mind.

“I feel bad for Wanda. She must feel terrible.”

“I know. Hopefully this whole Accords business can be of help.”

“Well, that would be nice, but we’re obviously not signing that.” An airy laugh left my lips, amused at the idea of signing away any freedom we could have for ourselves. I felt Nat’s body go rigid beside me, suddenly feeling tense. I pulled away slightly and looked up to see a frown taking over her features.

“You’re not going to sign?” She spoke, suddenly sounding more awake, albeit still having a gentle tone, but I could feel the disbelief behind her words.

“I wasn’t planning on it, no. Are you?”

“I feel like it would be a good idea. Maybe we need a little more guidance to go about our missions.”

“This isn't guidance, Nat. This is essentially locking us away just without the bars.”

“It’s protection.”

“It’s losing our freedom!” I bluntly responded, almost shocked that we weren’t on the same page about this. We both stood across from each other now, arms crossed and staring into each other's eyes, all tiredness beforehand gone and replaced with fire.

“I need some air” She groaned, walking away towards the exit, signalling the end of that conversation.

“Nat-”

“I’ll see you at home, okay?” Not giving me a chance to respond, having walked out the door before I could utter a word. I guess coffee is the least of my problems now.

Lost in my daydream, I hadn’t even noticed that Clint had walked in and was currently fighting Vision. Wait, Clint?

“Clint? I thought you retired?”

“Ah nice to have you back.” He choked, currently caught in a headlock with Vision. I stood next to Wanda, the two of us sharing a look of confusion. “We need to go, Cap needs us.”

“You can’t overpower me, Clint.” Vision spoke, still holding his grip.

“I know i can’t, but she can”

I looked beside me once again and saw Wanda beginning to use her powers, and before I knew it, Vision had fallen to the ground..and further until we could no longer see him.

“We need to go” The archer rushed, taking Wanda by the hand and leading her outside. I was yet to be clued in on what exactly was going on, but I knew one thing, this couldn’t be good.

---

It was absolute chaos everywhere. Steve, much like Tony, had recruited a small team of his own, some familiar faces, some new, the ant guy was pretty cool. However, there hadn’t been much time to admire the different skill sets and powers that had been brought to the table before both sides had run towards each other. Especially considering seeing the recognisable assassin on the other side had brought on a wave of sickness, fighting her was the last thing I wanted to do.

While Bucky had taken to fighting who I assumed to be Blank Panther and Sam was in the air, I’d stuck to helping Steve, not wanting to get involved in the fight Clint was having with Natasha. This teenager had started shooting webs at Captain, and while I know he was on the opposite side, I had to admit, he was pretty good at fighting.

“He also said to go for your legs” He chuckled, again shooting webs at the supersoldier and holding him back from retrieving his shield.

“Hey Spidey” I called, gaining his attention.

“Hi”

“Might wanna drop the Captain, yeah?”

“I can’t. I gotta impress Mr Stark”

“Look, this isn’t your fight, you don’t know what’s going on” I tried to reason, falling onto deaf ears, or just stubborn, as he then shot his webs at me and tried to pull. His eyes shrunk in confusion as he couldn’t flip me, my power of immobility coming in handy.

“Why-” He groaned, still trying to flip me. I lifted my hands, grabbed the webs and flung him into one of the loading crates that were scattered around, my super strength making the impact a lot harsher, but not enough to cause major injury.

“Thanks Y/N” Steve spoke, a quick nod of approval was shared before I caught a glance of another fight going on. Wanda’s holding a crate, trying to take someone flying above it out, completely oblivious to Vision starting to come towards her. Looking down slightly, I saw who was directly underneath.

“Shit” I mumbled, running as fast as I could towards them, avoiding gunfire and punches along the way.

“Language!”

“Sorry! Jeez” I directed towards the man now running in a different direction.

Vision was much closer to them than I was, no matter how quickly my feet took me. It was no use trying to warn Wanda, I wouldn’t get there in time. I had to go with plan B.

“Nat! Move!”

She quickly turned and caught sight of me, giving me a confused glare that didn’t last long before I pushed her away from where she was standing, out of harm's way.

“What the hell Y/-” She hadn’t managed to finish her sentence before her eyes widened in horror at the large crate suddenly falling from Wanda’s hold and onto me. My arms lifted quickly to hold it, slightly wobbling due to not being in the centre of it.

“Is there anything behind me?”

“Wha-”

“Is there anything behind me?!” I spoke more urgently, not knowing how much longer I could hold it.

“No, no you’re clear.” Natasha responded, I thanked her silently with a nod.

‘Okay. you’ve got this. One. Two-’ I thought to myself.

With the remaining strength I could have gathered, I bent down slightly and pushed, sending the metal hurling upwards while I ran forward. Overestimating how high i’d thrown it, the bitter reality hit me, quite literally as it fell onto my leg, sending me face first towards the ground.

“Wanda!” Was all I could hear before I felt my head placed in someone’s lap and the world went black.

---

My head pounding like a hammer had been a lovely wake up call, followed by a throbbing pain in my leg which I'd looked down to see was lying along a row of pillows. My eyes darted around the room and I recognised the photo on the bedside table beside me. It was a photo of Natasha and I standing in the rain laughing at a joke we can’t remember anymore, but it must’ve been funny according to the huge smiles on our faces. The love in our eyes was enough to make galaxies jealous.

A knock on the door had interrupted my train of thought, opening before I had a chance to respond, Natasha walked in, a guilty look taking over her face.

“Hi”

“Hey. You okay?” I questioned, earning a smile and a scoff to come out of The Black Widow’s mouth.

“Am I okay? Really?”

“I-”

“You ask me if i’m okay when you’re lying there with a broken leg and just woken up from being knocked out, because you decided to throw yourself into danger.”

“You had a tonnes worth of metal about to fall on you. Forgive me if i didn’t want a squished girlfriend.” I defended myself, not entirely certain on how this is turning into being my fault.

“You could have died”

“But I didn’t”

“But you could’ve, Y/N!”

“Love-”

“I can’t lose you” Her voice broke. Only then had I managed to really take a look at her. Her eyes had clouded over, her hair was all over the place, her nose running slightly. A pang of guilt hit me, not knowing that my action had affected her so much.

“Can you come here? Please?” She hesitated, but soon made her way round to the other side of the bed and sat herself down, making herself comfortable in my arms that I held open for her, hands immediately going to run through her hair. Small sniffles could be heard in the otherwise silent room, each one having a kiss pressed against her head in response.

After a couple of minutes, the silence was broken again.

“I’m sorry, moya lyubov, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

She turned her head up slightly to look at me, a small smile playing on her lips

“I know. i just panicked. I want you to be safe too.”

“I’m okay. I’m here. I promise.” I kissed her head again. “How does a bath and a movie sound?” A small sigh left her lips at the suggestion.

“You’ll join?”

“I’ll join”

A small but passionate kiss was exchanged, followed by a few quick pecks before the redhead walked off towards our bathroom, the sound of running water filling the air not long after.

No matter the mission, the fight, the argument or the disagreements, we’ll always protect one another. We don’t need the Sokovia Accords for that.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x avenger reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluffy #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff oneshot

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tangledstarlight · 3 years

Photo

...i said i was going to make it and well, here we are i guess. im so sorry for this.

Carlos Molina’s to Guide to Ghost Hood (title subject to change)

welcome to the 1st edition, maybe i’ll make a 2nd if i get inspired enough but also, this is such a mess already i don’t think the world needs a part 2 dfghg

Link to the power point is in the first reblog. (i’d highly recommend watching it for the full experience dfgh)

Link to ao3 also in the first reblog.

below the cut is the accompanying fic and description of the rules/guide.

The tape recorder lets out a low buzzing sound as Carlos presses a button on the side and stands it up between them on the dining room table. Julie shoots an amused glance at Reggie who’s taken up residence in the chair next to him, the two of them flipping open notebooks and clutching pencils.

“Where did you even find a tape recorder?” She wonders, stretching out a finger to touch the silver rectangle only for her hand to be swatted away by Reggie.

“Found it in a box of moms stuff and dad said we could order some tapes from amazon,” Carlos replies matter of factly, straightening up in his chair once he seems to have found the page he was looking for. “Right. Let's start off easy, shall we?”

He looks at her expectantly and Julie rolls her eyes, waving a hand at the two of them, “Lets.”

“Question one,” Carlos taps his pencil at the top of his page before squinting at her, “Did you conduct any séance related activities before the ghosts showed up?”

Julie blinks at him, wondering if he’s joking but the pair of them just look back at her, heads both slightly tilted and it’s at that moment that she realises how serious they’re going to be about this. It was going to be a long afternoon of questioning apparently.

“No, I didn’t conduct any séance related activities. I just put on their CD and they y’know, fell out of the sky.”

“Interesting, interesting,” Carlos mutters as he looks at Reggie’s notebook as the older boy writes her answer down, underlines something and taps it with his pencil that makes Carlos let out a small hm. “So you don’t know anything about the dark room? Didn’t make any wishes?”

“No,” Julie shakes her head, watches Reggie write something else down and tilt his notebook to Carlos. It’s weird, watching them communicate like that, like they’ve created a shorthand between them and don’t even require her presence to have a conversation. Which is obviously true because they’ve clearly discussed all this beforehand.

“You walked through Luke right? What did that feel like to you?” Reggie’s question catches her off guard and she looks between them, but Carlos is already looking at her, waiting for her answer.

“It was um cold? But also not. I--” she frowns, trying to think back to that first night in the kitchen when she’d turned around and walked through him. Back when she’s barely known any of them and was more annoyed by their presence then comforted. “It was weird. The first few seconds after I walked through him I just felt cold but then it was like a rush of warmth? You know when you get one of those random shivers that runs through your whole body? It feels all weird and tingly but also kinda nice? Like that.”

“Did it feel like you got a feel of Luke?” Carlos asks and Julie shrugs, a slight blush on her cheeks and somehow, despite the fact they can’t see each other, the two of them share a look.

“What’s the next question,” anything to move off the topic of walking through Luke and how it felt.

“Oh Julie is gonna be so pissed at you guys,” Alex mutters but makes no move to step in and stop the ‘experiment’ currently going on. He watches as Reggie tries to put a hand on Carlos’ shoulder, fingers phasing through the younger boy's jacket with a frown.

“She won't be pissed if it works,” is all Reggie says, face morphing into one of concentration as he slowly lowers his hand on to Carlos’ shoulder again.

For his part, Carlos bounces slightly on his toes, eyes fixed on the notebook in Alex’s hand in case they need to tell him something. And okay, Alex might not fully agree with the way the two of them are going about this whole thing, but he can’t say he’s not on board with it. Their whole stint as ghosts has been nothing but confusion after confusion that not even Willie has answers for. Does he think Reggie and Carlos are going to uncover some fundamental thing that makes them the way they are? Probably not. Will they maybe get him some kind of answer? God he hopes so.

Especially since there’s been small moments in the last few weeks where Ray and Carlos have been able to hear them even without them playing music or Julie nearby. Which had scared all of them. Thought it was nothing compared to Ray’s reaction when he’d apparently walked into the kitchen to find Julie and Luke hugging, only for him to vanish when they suddenly let go. It was a hell of a way to find out they could be seen if they were touching her.

“Oh!” Carlos suddenly exclaims, head whipping to look at his shoulder where Reggie’s hand is resting solidly on the fabric of the jacket. Alex feels his eyes widen a fraction and watches Reggie’s smile widen as he squeezes slightly on Carlos’ shoulder. “Oh my god! I can feel that!”

“Holy shit,” Alex whispers, grip on the pencil in his fingers growing.

“Hey! I heard that too! Quick! Write it down! 30 minutes and- and however many attempts it took!” Carlos grins, face turning towards him and Alex doesn’t even have time to feel guilty about swearing before he’s scribbling in Reggie’s notebook.

“Thanks again for taking me,” Carlos says as he pulls his seat belt across his chest and clicks it in, eyes drifting from his tia in the front seat to the little notebook resting on the back seat and the pencil that’s hovering just a few inches off the paper. Subtly he sees it tap on the page, once, twice, and he bites down on his grin, tucking his hands under his thighs to stop from bouncing in his seat. They’re ready.

“Of course mijo,” Victoria smiles over at him as she turns on the engine, fingers already messing with the buttons on the radio to find her favourite station. “I have to say I’m impressed. Planning ahead for your dad's birthday.”

“Mhm,” he agrees, his eyes on the notebook that he can just see in the rearview mirror. The pencils resting between the creases in the pages and he holds his breath as the radio jumps to a different station.

Victoria frowns slightly, her eyes darting from the road to the radio and back, hand reaching out to change it back. When it jumps to another station. And another. Carlos feels his eyes widen a little, legs bouncing on top of his hands as he watches the radio cycle through station after station, only lingers for a few seconds on each before moving on.

Finally it stops, the words of Despacito ringing through the car and it’s lucky they’re at a red light he thinks, because when Victoria tries to change it it jumps right back.

“What the f-” she starts, the furrow between her brows growing deeper and the knuckles on her hand that’s still gripping the wheel turning white.

“Can we leave it? I like this song,” he looks over at her with a smile, blinking in what he hopes is a completely innocent way. He’s pretty sure she’s too distracted by the radio to question it.

“Sure, sure,” she mutters, not even looking at him, eyes going from the road to the radio.

The song ends and from the corner of his eye he can see the pencil in the back moving, Reggie or Willie writing something down and he has to stop himself from turning around to see what it is. Instead he watches as tia starts changing the radio station again, her fingers never leaving the touch screen as if that was the problem. But the second she lands on her favourite 80’s classics station and is moving her fingers away it changes. Skipping through stations again until Despacito is once again filling the car.

It’s probably lucky that they’re at another red light and that there’s no one behind them because her eyes widen and she’s suddenly saying words in Spanish that he knows he shouldn’t know and is pulling over to the side of the road.

“We have to get out! The car is being possessed! Out, out Carlos! Come on!” Her seat belt is off and her door is open before Carlos even has a chance to process what’s happening. The notebook from the back is pushed in front of his face and he tilts his head a little to side to read Reggie’s familiar handwriting,

Too far?

“Maybe,” he whispers back, taking the notebook out of the ghost's hand as he starts to get out of the car, plucking the pencil out of the metal spirals and making a note about not pushing tia in a moving vehicle and to wait until after they’ve gone shopping first.

She’s got her phone pressed to ear when he joins her on the sidewalk, pacing up and down. Carlos is pretty sure there’s going to be a family dinner story time in their near future.

Luke watches as Carlos sets his tape recorder up, idly plucking out a half finished tune on his guitar in order to be seen and heard. He doesn’t really get the other boys interest in figuring out their ghostly state of being. The same way he doesn’t really care about finding answers to all of Alex’s questions.

They ate some bad street dogs. They died. Julie brought them back and then she saved them a second time. They can play music and sometimes be seen. He already has all the answers he needs and it’s two words: Julie Molina.

Would it be nice to know what the black room was? Sure. Did he sometimes wonder why they could be seen but other ghosts couldn't? Sometimes. Did he want answers? Only if someone was going to give them to him without having to do the work. Was he going to sit here and answer all of Carlos’ questions because it was important to him and to the others? Fuck yeah he was.

“Does that think pick up our voices even if we’re not playing and not near Julie?” He nods at the recorder on the table after Carlos hits a button.

“Yeah! It’s so cool too. You sound like, all static-y and I have to listen really hard sometimes because your voices fade in and out but they’re there!”

Okay, Luke can admit that is pretty cool, “That’s wicked. Maybe we should start using that to communicate instead of writing.” He was really sick of people commenting on his handwriting.

“Dude that’s genius! It would be like leaving each other voice notes!” He gestures in the air with his pencil the same way Julie does when she’s realised the issue with a verse and Luke smiles softly. He doesn’t know what voice notes are, but he’s glad he could contribute to the communication issue.

“What questions have you got for me then little dude?” He raises an eyebrow at Carlos as he flips through his notebook.

When he’d first knocked Alex down Willie never thought it would lead to him sitting in the Molina’s family living room, a whiteboard resting on his knees as a twelve year old shows him bar graphs and pie charts of information on ghosts.

There was probably some kind of domino-butterfly effect going on that had led him here. But he’s too busy trying to fit all his know ghost knowledge onto a whiteboard so Carlos can fill in the gaps in his knowledge.

Over the years Willie has met a lot of lifers, has interacted with a handful at the HGC but he’s never met a family like the Molina’s. Who found out ghosts were real and instead of running, or trying to profit off of them, had just...welcomed them into the family. Arms wide and hearts open.

And more than that, here was Carlos trying to get answers to questions that none of them really had an answer too.

“Black room, yes or no?” Carlos asks, holding up a flash card and a clothes peg, ready to add it to the line of string stretching across the room. It was already littered with other cards in an order that Willie really didn’t understand but seemed to make perfect sense to the younger boy and Reggie.

Not for me, or anyone I asked at the club, he scribbles down, turning to the board around.

“Just like we thought,” he nods to himself, taking two steps to the left and reaching up to attach the card, “An anomaly.” he whispers it to himself and Willie has to bite his lip to stop from smiling before remembering that Carlos can’t actually see him.

“Hey,” Alex’s voice from the doorway drags his gaze away from the lifer and the smile he’d been trying to stop spreads across his face, “How’s it going?”

“I don’t think we’re even half way through,” he chuckles, gesturing with one hand at the stack of flashcards and the charts he hasn’t even seen yet. “Do you understand this system?”

The exasperated laugh that leaves Alex’s lips is answer enough before he’s even shaking his head, strands of blonde hair dipping into his eyes and Willie wants to reach to move away, “Not a clue. They’ve tried to explain it to us but it makes zero sense to anyone but them.”

“Hey, Alex, stop distracting him, we’re working here!” Carlos’ voice makes him jump, head turning back to where he’s standing with his arms crossed and shaking his head in disappointment in the vague direction of where Alex is standing.

“Wait, can he see you?” Willie frowns, mind trying to remember if he knew this or not.

“No, he’s just really good at sensing us these days,” Alex sighs, but there’s a fond look in his eyes as he looks at Carlos, “He says it’s his ghost powers kicking in from how often he hangs out with Reggie and from all the failed teleportation experiments.”

“The failed what now?”

“Oh, you’ll find out. I think it’s section 7?” Alex grins, pushing off from where he’d been leaning against the doorway and waving.

Willie turns back to Carlos feeling a little more confused than he had minutes ago but also much more intrigued about teleportation experiments. And if he could help get some answers for any of the many questions Alex had, that was cool too.

Carlos Molina’s Guide to Ghosting. So you became a ghost, huh?

(working title, subject to change)

By Carlos Molina, with special thanks to Reggie Peters and Willie Skateboard.

1st Edition.

Dedicated to Alex Mercer, so he can stop asking so many questions. We’re working on it buddy.

1. Tangibility

They can walk through anything (except my sister now, reasons still unclear).

Works especially well with walls, doors and locked vaults (see exhibit a)

When they walk through people it “allows them to get a feel for the person” – Reggie Peters. “It’s weird” – Alex Mercer. No comment from Luke Patterson as he was too busy staring at Julie.

2. Souls

Objects can be attached to their souls.

Still unclear if it has to be an object that they were close to in life, or if they can attach their souls to any object once a ghost.

Experiments with Reggie Peters are still ongoing. Updates will follow.

3. Being Seen

Can be seen by “lifers*” when they play music with Julie.

This is the first rule which only applies to our ghosts.

They can be heard when they play music without Julie. This is also unclear as to why, working theory is “Our music is just so awesome it transcends deaths!” – Luke Patterson.

Mr Willie Skateboard was quick to point out it’s “weird” and “ghosts aren’t supposed to be seen by lifers.”

4. Touching

Our ghosts can now touch Julie. The biggest change in their afterlife.

Still no explanation for it. Experiments are ongoing (see exhibit b)

Have witnessed Julie hugging the air many times only for Alex or Willie to appear. Same with hand holding. (see exhibit c for dads reaction)

5. Magic

Some ghosts have powers and abilities.

Willie* can control different types of technology. Appears to work best with cars. This we believe correlates with who a ghost dies.

In our expedition to test his skills he skipped through 15 different radio stations of Tia’s car until he found one playing despacito. Test was a success. Tia does think her car is haunted now however.

6. ???

There was a dark room.

All other ghosts interviewed had never heard of it before.

All our ghosts agreed it was weird and creepy.

We are choosing to pretend it didn’t happen.

Working theory: a hole in time that they fell through. Must find a way to test.

7. Teleporting

part 1)

Ghosts can teleport wherever they want in the world.

Only the most powerful can teleport a lifer with them (will keep attempting)

part b)

Our ghosts can pinpoint Julie’s exact location wherever she may be in the world.

Will be helpful if she is ever kidnapped, Julie however wishes they would stop using said power to find her in gym class.

“I already have find my friend activated” – Flynn had to say on the matter.

part c)

Julie can summon the boys to her if she concentrates hard enough. Came in handy when an evil magician tried to kidnap them.

Also possibly how they escaped the dark room, no way to prove or deny this as dad won’t let me eat a bad hotdog to become a ghost.

Working theory: magic of music and family

See Exhibit d

See Exhibit e

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #carlos molina #willie jatp #willie #ray molina #jatp #this is...this is really something that i made huh #why did i do this #i just. okay #you gotta read the power point as if carlos and reggie are presenting it btw #and reggie is wearing a sheet for the aesthetic

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rebeccccccaaa · 3 years

Text

𝐈𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞

________________________

ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ᴘʏʀᴏᴋɪɴᴇᴛɪᴄ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: (ANON) heey!! Can you please write something (possibly smut pls) in which Bucky falls in love with Tony's adoptive daughter but they have to keep it a secret?

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: SMUT 18+, fluff, age gap (you’re like mid-twenties and Bucky’s early thirties) angry Tones, Steve being such an asshole lmao

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: I imagine that you were like thirteen to fifteen during the attack in new york and your parents uh… died ig and Tony took you in and they find out you got super powers teehee

________________________

It started when the Avengers had their first movie with Bucky as a new recruit. He had completed his evaluations and was applicable to join the team. That’s when he met you for the first time.

You were this beautiful ball of craziness and light and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were tipsy, he could tell and every sudden burst of laughter or even a sneeze you’d spark a flame setting something on fire making you laugh even more.

He practically fell in love with you that day.

Weeks later he chalked it up and asked Steve more about you. He told Bucky that your parents had died when you were young during the attack on New York almost ten years ago now and Tony took it upon himself to take you in and protect you.

“How did you guys know about her powers?”

“We didn’t. Few days after she moved into the Tower she sneezed during breakfast and set her food on fire. I don’t think she knew about them either.”

“Who were her parents?”

“We don’t know. She told us their names but it’s like they don’t exist; no medical history, socials, nothing.”

“Weird.”

You were a mystery, a beautiful mystery. But one thing everyone was that you were Tony’s daughter. Adopted, but still. And Tony still didn’t like him. It was an argument on it’s own to even let near the compound; telling him that he wanted to date his daughter would send him into cardiac arrest.

So you guys are sneaking around.

Of course you noticed his shy and lingering eyes. You were flattered. You agreed a bunch that Bucky was one of the most gorgeous men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. You didn’t push anything and waited for him to come to you. And when he did, he came hard, literally.

It started when Steve was away on a mission in Berlin. Bucky had woken up from a nightmare and he hadn’t had one in weeks. During his time here, because of his infatuation with you, he grew close to you.

You laid under him so perfectly; like you were meant to be there. The way you bit your lip to muffle your moans so you wouldn’t wake anyone. The way your eyes fluttered when he hit that particular spot. The stinging from your nails dragging down his back.

“Fucking hell, you feel so good wrapped around me, doll,” he grunted as he continued to thrusted in and out of you.

“Oh god, Bucky,” you moaned before pulling him down to connect your lips together.

“Ugh, your dad’s gonna kill me,” he grunted.

“Fuck him,” you chuckled breathlessly.

Breakfast the next morning was foul. Everyone was eating as normal and Steve was set to fly back in from Berlin, but y couldn’t shake the awkward tension between you and Bucky. Both girls could sense that something had happened and when you told them later that day they nearly screamed like teenage girls.

“You can’t tell anyone! Especially Tony!”

“We won’t say anything,” Nat giggled, “He’s gonna kill you.”

“Not if he kills Bucky first,” Wanda snorted.

Since then every lingering touch, every persistent stare, you found yourselves in either room making the most of however many minutes you had together until someone came looking for you. Your chest pressed against his, combing your fingers through his hair as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“You’re absolutely irresistible, doll,” Bucky whispered against your ear.

“Fuck, we’re gonna get caught one day,” you panted.

“I know but we haven’t yet, so be a good girl and turn around for me so I can that gorgeous ass while I fuck you from behind.”

You turned over, getting on your hands and knees instantaneously feeling a pleasurable sting from Bucky’s hand on your cheek. He quickly soothed the pain by rubbing his hand over the red mark before gliding up your spine to softly rub your back.

He slowly slid back in through your folds eliciting a moan from you both. His pelvis slapping against your soft skin, the sound echoing lewdly through the room. Your arms gave out and your face buried into the sheets under you letting Bucky hit deeper inside you making you nearly scream.

You threw your head back up covering your mouth to muffle the moans. Bucky bit his lip harshly in an attempt but wasn’t as successful as you were. His hips snapped violently, stuttering every now and then as he got closer to a release.

“God, Buck! I’m gonna cum! Fuck!” you whined.

“Shit,” Bucky groaned before spilling inside you, coating your walls with hot cum.

He fell forward pressing soft kisses to your slightly sweaty skin. He lifted himself and turned you around, settling between your legs lazily kissing you in your post sex bliss. You looked so pretty with your hair spread out on the sheets and the marks that littered your neck and your breasts. He truly fell in love with you and you did for him too.

“Y/n,” he whispered looking intimately into your eyes.

“Bucky,” you whispered back with a grin.

“I lo-”

“Hey, Buck. I’ve been looking for- What the fuck!” Steve barged through the door to find you two nude in each other's arms. You tucked your face in your shoulder away from the door in shame and Bucky saw red. He reached above your head immediately and threw as hard as he could at the intruder.

“Get out!”

Steve slammed the door shut with wide eyes and furrowed brows. Did he see what he thinks he saw? He went to the lab to look for Tony.

“Hey, Tony, do you know about Y/n and Bucky?”

“Excuse me?” he sassed.

“I uh- I found them together. In Buck’s room. Uh... naked.”

Tony slowly raised his head with an evil expression staring directly into Steve making the big super soldier feel timid.

“What!”

You and Bucky cleaned yourselves up and changed as soon as Steve left. You sat next to each other on his bed unsure of what’s to come next.

“Maybe Steve won’t say anything?” Bucky shrugged.

“My dad’s gonna kill me,” you sighed.

“Hey, I won’t let him-”

“Get the hell away from my daughter!” Tony shouted slamming the door to Bucky’s bedroom opened; behind him stood and guilty Steve and you felt rage.

“You fucking told on us!” you spiraled fire around your fingers ready to fight for revenge. Your hands and arms glowed bright red and orange and yellow and pits of fire glowed in your eyes. Steam practically

“Hey calm down,” Bucky grabbed your waist. He stepped in front you and lifted your chin to look at him. The second your eyes met with his, your entire body cooled down and you felt yourself fall in the ocean that are his eyes; as if a wave had dissipated the fire you created.

“Hey, what the hell is going on?” Tony fumed.

“Leave her alone. She has nothing to do with this,” Bucky defended.

“The hell she does. You’re sleeping with my daughter!”

“I’m not talking about this; I’m talking about what we have. If it was anyone else, you wouldn’t be having a cow,” Bucky growled.

“Tony,” you stepped forward.

“Dad,” you whispered; Tony's eyes snapped to yours.

“Please, I love him.”

“No,” he couldn’t accept it.

“Well, whether or not you like it, we’re gonna be together.”

“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“We’ll just keep sneaking around like we have been for months.”

“Months!”

“Yes, months. And it would’ve been longer if it wasn’t for you!” you pointed at Steve, who casted his eyes away in guilt.

“Dad, please. I love Bucky so much; and you’re not going to take him away from me,” you cried.

Tony noticed how sincere you spoke. And the way he easily calmed you down; he knew there was love between you two. He wouldn’t be to live with himself if he took something that clearly made you so happy away from you. As much as he couldn’t move past his issues with Bucky he knows that Bucky was right and that this has nothing to do with you.

“I don’t want any more accidents with walking in your private time. You’re lucky it was Steve and not me; I would’ve killed you both on the spot,” he said to you.

“Thank you, Dad,” you hugged him tightly before going back to Bucky’s side.

“And you; if you so much as put her in a bad mood, I’ll fucking kill you,” Tony said before leaving.

“Well, well, well,” Bucky looked at Steve.

“Bucky, leave him alone; it’s not like he almost ruined our lives and tore us apart,” you chuckled.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t think freak out like that,” Steve apologized.

“And why didn’t you lock the door?” he asked.

“Yeah, why didn’t you?” you looked at Bucky with furrowed brows.

“Don’t turn on me, this is not my fault!” Bucky defended as you and Steve shared a laugh.

“Well, I’m happy for you guys. You’re good together,” Steve smiled before walking out and closing the door.

“Wow, Toyn fucking terrifying when he’s in dad mode,” Bucky turned to you.

“Yeah, but he’ll come around.”

“I love you too, by the way.”

“I love you, Bucky.”

==========================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison

@buckybarnes101

@l-sofiamia-l

@Pluto-grl

Taglist?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes smut #marvel fics #marvel smut

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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years

Text

Seasons of PD: Season 7: Don’t You Ever Do That Again, You Hear Me? (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

A/N: There are mentions of B1ack Liv3s M4tter (apparently this ended up in that tag, so I changed the wording, so hopefully it’s not there anymore) in regards to peaceful protests in this. And there are mentions of counter-protesters causing riots. I tried my best to portray this as professionally as possible with Y/N's views, Kevin's views, and Jay's views. I did not try to offend anyone at all and I'm very sorry if I did.

Also, I don't know if one part counts as threat of sexual coercion, but I'm fairly certain that's what it's called, so trigger warning for that.

Your age: 18

Jay's age: 32

Will's age: 34

"I get that it's important to you, but I'm not letting you go!" Jay argued as you stood across from him in a screaming match.

"Why? Because You don't believe the same things as me because you haven't met a bad cop? Because you fought for this country and know people who died for it?" you yelled back.

"Yes, me being a cop and a soldier obviously has something to do with this! But I'm also trying to keep you safe! They turn into riots!"

"You do know that's not the Black Lives Matter protesters who start them, right? They're peaceful. Counter-protesting assholes come and start things to give peaceful protesters a bad image!"

"I don't want you to get hurt if something happens! Tear gas hurts, kid. I don't want you to come home with burning eyes and the possibility of going blind and tell me I'm right. I'm trying to prevent that!"

"I know you are, Jay! I just want you to let me have my own damn opinions and do what I want for once!"

"Has a cop ever hurt you in some way? Pulled you over illegally?" Jay roared.

You wanted to tell him your story about something like that that had happened five weeks ago, two weeks after the infection scare across the entire city, but you couldn't because you knew he'd do something stupid and you didn't want that. "No, but--"

His phone rang, cutting you off. "I'll be there," Jay said quickly. Then, he turned back to you. "I gotta go, caught a case. I'll see you later and we can talk about this. Calmly."

"So, you're saying there's a chance you'll let me go?"

"There's maybe a .001% chance, but sure, believe what you want."

You rolled your eyes and he left. But, as he shut and locked the apartment door, he stopped. "Love you," he whispered. Because, with what he did on the job, he knew that there was the possibility every day of him not coming home to you.

***

When you woke up, you were shocked not to see a text from Jay between 3 and 5 am saying that he wouldn't make it home tonight. He usually made it a priority when on a case to tell you that he wouldn't be coming home so that you wouldn't worry.

But, there was a voicemail from him around 11 pm last night and it was currently 9 am.

You put your phone on speaker and played it.

"Hey, Y/N, I'm sorry about arguing. If you really want to go, I think Kevin has his RDO tomorrow so I can see if he's going if you-- OW!" Then, the line just continued playing, and dragging noises were heard until there was a crash and the line went dead.

"Jay? Jay?" What the hell had happened? You quickly replayed the message to make sure it wasn't an issue with your phone, but when you heard the same exact thing again, you knew something had gone terribly wrong.

You went to dial Hailey's number to ask if she had seen Jay when there was a loud knock on your door. You quickly ran across the apartment and looked out the peephole. You saw Hailey and Adam and quickly flung open the door.

"Hey, Y/N," Adam said as he entered.

"Have you guys seen Jay?" you asked.

You saw Hailey visibly swallow. "Listen," she started, but you cut her off.

"What happened? What's going on? He usually texts me if he's going to be working until the morning and I didn't get a text and I got a voicemail and--" You took a deep, gasping breath.

"What voicemail?" Hailey asked as she placed a hand on your shoulder.

"I- It cut off partway through and he yelled and-- wait, he wasn't with you?"

"No," Hailey answered. "He said he had some personal stuff to take care of when we were at a scene and then took off. Then, he never came back, so we decided to check here to see if he just came home or something happened."

"He never came home." Your eyes widened, finally processing what it meant if he wasn't here and Intelligence couldn't find him. "You're telling me he's missing? Again? Oh, no. This can't be happening, not again. Not after our fight last night. I didn't even tell him what happened or that I loved him or--"

"Y/N, I need you to take a deep breath," Hailey told you and you tried to match her breathing. "His radio might just be dead or something like that." She knew that she was lying, but she was trying to stop you from freaking out. "Can you give me your phone so Adam and I can listen to the voicemail?"

You nodded and handed Adam your phone. He pressed play and you watched as his jaw clenched as he was listening to it.

"Shit," he muttered once he was done. "We need you to come to the district with us. Just for safety."

"Can you give me a minute?" you asked. "I- I'm in my pajamas and I haven't brushed my teeth and--"

"We'll leave in half an hour, okay?" Hailey asked and you nodded. "While you're getting ready, we'll send the voicemail over to Kim and Kev. Jay's gonna be okay."

"How do you know that?" you almost whispered.

"Because Jay's one of the strongest people I know," she answered. But, in reality, she wasn't sure about that. They had no idea where he was and according to the timestamp on that voicemail, it had been a little over ten hours since he sent it. For all they knew, Jay could be out of Chicago right now. Scratch that, he could be out of Illinois.

***

"When did you get this voicemail?" Hank asked as everyone in Intelligence, minus Jay but including you, were in the bullpen and trying to trace where the call came from.

"Around 11 last night, Boss," Adam answered for you.

"Okay. So it's been almost 11 hours," Voight said.

"I need a break, excuse me," you said and quickly excused yourself to the locker room.

You made your way to the locker room and sat down and leaned against the wall. This couldn't be happening again, not after that crazy borderline sociopathic drug dealer kidnapped Jay a few years ago and Erin went in and saved him. This could not be happening again.

You thought back to the fight last night and something your mom would always say when she was in a fight with one of the boys or when you had thrown a temper tantrum and then had to go to bed.

I'll always tell you I love you because when you walk out that door or go to bed, I'll never know if that was the last chance I had to tell you I love you.

God, if you hadn't argued with Jay, maybe you wouldn't be feeling this way. Obviously, you'd be feeling scared and upset because Jay was missing and no one had any idea where he was, but at least you wouldn't feel guilty like you currently did.

You felt guilty about starting that fight in the first place by bringing it up even though you knew what his answer was going to be. You felt guilty about yelling. But most of all, you felt guilty and you regretted not saying love you when he left...because that might've been the last time you'd have been able to tell that to your big brother who had always been there for you...even when he really didn't want to.

Jay's Nokia flip phone buzzed as he walked out of school. It was his mom.

"Hey, Mom," he greeted.

"Jay Halstead, if you answered your phone while you're driving..." she trailed off, trying to think of a good threat.

"Mom, I didn't. I was talking to some friends about going for tacos tonight, so I just walked out of school a minute ago."

"Oh," she said.

"What oh?" Jay asked. "That sounded like a bad oh, Mom."

"Well, I wish I would've known that before a professor called in sick to give an exam to his students and I agreed to pick up the extra hours."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't bring Y/N to the dentist. And I thought since you weren't busy, you could. I also may or not have promised her that she could go to Build-A-Bear after to get a new outfit for Beary because she's so scared."

"Mom," Jay groaned.

"I know, I'm sorry. But, how about this: you do this for me, and I'll extend your curfew by two hours on Friday and Saturday."

"Three," Jay countered.

"Two." Amelia Halstead stood strong.

"Three."

"Two and a half."

"Deal," Jay agreed.

"Thank you. I'll see you tonight. Love you."

"Love you, too."

***

"No," you whined as Jay told you that you had to leave after he walked you home from school later. "I don't wanna go to the dentist. They scary."

"No, they're not," Jay told you. The doctor was what was scary for him with all the needles for the shots. But, the dentist had never bothered him, even when he was a little kid it had never bothered him.

"No!"

"What if I let you bring Beary into the dentist, would you go then?" Jay practically pleaded.

"And you give me chocolate before we leave?"

"If you promise to grab your toothbrush and brush your teeth in the bathroom at the dentist, then yes, I'll give you some chocolate to eat on the way there." Jay was desperate at this point. He knew he shouldn't be giving you everything you wanted, but what were big brothers with a giant age gap for anyway if not to try and spoil his little sister?

"Okay!" You ran off to go grab Beary and your toothbrush and toothpaste while Jay made his way to a high cabinet in the kitchen and grabbed five squares of Dove milk chocolate, three for you and two for him.

In the car, Jay handed you the cholates and you started eating them while you held Beary close to you, trying to gain some comfort out of your favorite stuffed animal.

***

You gripped Jay's hand as you sat and waited for your name to be called. Beary was held in your other hand and you were squeezing him tight against your chest. You had just brushed your teeth like you promised Jay that you would, but you were still utterly terrified.

"Y/N Halstead?" a dental hygienist came out and asked.

You didn't say a word, just held Jay's hand tighter.

"That's you," Jay said gently and with a smile on his face, trying to make you feel less scared.

"No, not me," you told him as you frantically shook your head.

The dental hygienist squatted down in front of you. "Are you Y/N?" You didn't do anything, but Jay must've nodded to confirm that it was indeed you. "And who's this?" she asked as she shook Beary's paw.

"Beary," you said shyly.

"Well, I'm fairly certain that Beary will be with you the entire time. We even have little sunglasses you and he can wear when we shine the really bright light on you to protect both your little eyes. Does that sound good?"

You turned to Jay. "Me and Beary get sunglasses, Jay Jay!"

"I heard! Do you want me to come back with you?"

You thought for a second. "Please come."

Jay laughed. "Okay." He turned to the dental hygienist. "Is that okay?"

"Perfectly fine."

You stood up and held Jay's hand as you walked back into the dentist to get your six-month check-up on your baby teeth.

***

"That wasn't so bad was it?" Jay asked as the two of you walked out to his car after you finished.

"No!" you said as you shook your head. "I even got a pretty bracelet with Belle on it, see?" you exclaimed as you held your hand out to him to show off your yellow bracelet with a charm that had Belle from Beauty and the Beast on it.

Jay acted all surprised and said it was pretty even though he watched as you had picked it out while he had explained to the secretary how your mom would call to schedule your next appointment in six months.

Jay opened his car and made sure you were buckled in and then got in himself and started driving.

"Do you know where we're going?"

You gasped. You had forgotten you got to go to Build-A-Bear after!

"Build-A-Bear!" you yelled. The volume of that yell would've made Jay wince had he not been driving.

"Yup, that's where we're going."

"I think I'm gonna get Beary some new pajamas," you decided.

"What color?"

You held Beary out in front of you. "What color pjs do you want, Beary?" You brought him up to your ear and nodded as he "told" you what color pajamas he wants. "He said blue!"

"Blue pajamas. I'm pretty sure we can find those."

***

Jay and you walked into Build-A-Bear Workshop at the mall and you were met with children running around. To Jay, this was the definition of hell. Except for you, he was fine with you running around, but he really didn't like all the other kids that he had to be careful not to bump into.

"C'mon, Jay Jay!" you told him as you tugged him along to the pajama section.

He allowed himself to be tugged along by you and then you held up almost every single pair of blue pajamas to Beary to see which one was his favorite. He had decided on a pair of light blue pajamas with stars all over them. There was even a cute little hat with a pom-pom on top to go with the pajamas.

Jay paid and then you left with Beary and his brand-new pajamas. You had plans to have him sleep in those pajamas tonight, too.

Unbeknownst to you, Jay hadn't even really wanted to come. The only reason he brought you was that he got his curfew extended. But to you, it was just another fun afternoon with your big brother.

You were startled out of your daydream when you felt a hand on your shoulder. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

Kevin.

"It's fine. I'm fine," you said quickly.

"No, you're not. And that's okay. Hailey and Voight went to see if Jay's where his phone pinged at."

"We fought," you told him.

"You fought?" Kevin asked as he slid down the wall to sit next to you.

"It was stupid. I should've just agreed with him and maybe I wouldn't be feeling like this."

"Like what?"

"Like utter shit." You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. "We were arguing about the BLM protests that were happening tonight. I wanted to go, but he wouldn't let me. The last thing I did was roll my eyes at him, Kev."

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments while Kevin figured out how to comfort you.

"Maybe talking about it will help. What'd you argue about?"

"Just that I wanted to go and he wouldn't let me because he thinks riots will break out. And you and I both know that's not the BLM protesters, that's the counter-protesters. But, he thinks I'll get hurt. I also think it's because he's a cop, so he feels like I'm protesting him, but I'm not. I'm protesting the system."

Kevin nodded. "I get it. Believe me, I do. I live it every day."

"How do you do it?" you asked. "Be an activist and a cop at the same time?"

"Just try and do the right thing with the information you have. And, explain that you're protesting the system and the bad apples, not the police force as a whole."

"I tried. But Jay doesn't think I have a right to protest because I've never had a bad experience with a cop." Which was a lie, but you weren't ready to talk about that just yet.

"Did he say that exactly?" Kevin asked.

"No, but, he asked me if a cop has ever illegally pulled me over."

Kevin nodded. "I know Jay and I know he would never say that you didn't have the right protest. He fought for that right. He mention anything else?"

"That tear gas hurts."

"I think he just wanted to keep you safe, same thing I'd do for Jordan and Vanessa."

"He sounded like he changed his mind on his voicemail, though. He thought that maybe if you were going, then he'd let me go...at least, that's what it sounded like."

Kevin nodded. "All I can say is that until we found Jay, I'm not going to one. Getting your brother is my first priority and it's the first priority of everyone in this unit."

"My first priority, too."

"Kev!" Adam yelled as he banged on the door. "You in there?"

"Yeah, bro! What's up?" Kevin asked.

"We need you to meet with someone!"

***

The hours passed and with each of them that did, you got more and more nervous for Jay's safety. You guessed that this is how he felt when you asked if you could go to the protest, knowing that he'd constantly be worrying about you until you came home safely.

"Y/N, we gotta go," Trudy said as she entered the bullpen around 9:30 pm that night.

"Why? What's going on?" you asked as you grabbed your phone and started following her.

"They found Jay."

"Is he okay?" you asked quickly.

"Y/N..."

"No! He can't be dead, Trudy! He can't!" you wailed.

"He's not. But, he has been shot."

You froze. Shot. Jay had been shot.

"He's en route to Chicago Med right now."

"Can you- can you bring me there?"

"That's where we're going right now."

***

"Will!" you yelled as you ran into the ED and saw your oldest brother.

You ran right up to him and hugged him, not caring that he almost dropped his iPad he had been using to chart.

"Whoa, Y/N." He set the iPad down. "Hey, I know. But Crockett's operating on him right now and he's one of the best surgeons in the hospital."

"I thought you were better than him. You need to do the surgery, Will. you need to save Jay!"

"Y/N, I know it sucks, but I'm family. As much as I want to operate on him, I can't legally do that."

You paused and looked up at him. His eyes were slightly red, but he hadn't been bawling the way that you had been.

"Dr. Halstead! Incoming!" Maggie yelled.

"What does she mean?" you asked, still hanging onto him. "You're still working?"

"There's been a ten-car pile-up on the highway. I have to. It's my job."

"But Jay's in surgery!" you yelled as you pulled away from him. "These people are more important to you than your own brother?"

"They aren't but--"

"But you're working anyway instead of waiting to find out what happens to him?"

"I can't do anything to help Jay right now. But I can help all these people who are pouring in."

"Dr. Halstead!" Maggie shouted again.

"I'll be up in a few hours, I promise," Will told you.

***

A few hours had passed and it was now past midnight. Jay was still in surgery. Will was sitting next to you, in a spare pair of clothes he had packed instead of his scrubs that were covered in blood, and you were leaning your head on his shoulder, close to being asleep.

That was until Crockett came out and Will jumped up, causing your head to hit the back of the chair.

"Ow," you mumbled.

"Sorry," Will apologized and then turned back to Crockett. "What's the verdict?"

"He lost a lot of blood," Crockett told the two of you.

"But he's gonna pull through, right?" Will asked what the two of you were both thinking.

"We'll be out of blood soon."

"What do you mean out of blood?" Will asked, taking a step toward the surgeon. "There's no way you can be out of blood!"

"With that pile-up, we can. I'd recommend you go and say your goodbyes and pray for a miracle."

Will put his hands on the back of his head and started pacing the room. Your breath caught in your throat. This could not be happening. Jay couldn't die, he just couldn't.

Crockett started to walk back towards the operating room.

"Wait!" you yelled. You didn't know what had taken over you, but at this moment, you'd do anything to save your brother. You rolled up your sleeve. "Take my blood."

"Y/N," was all Will could manage to get out.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but there's protocol for that. I'd love to let you do it, but--"

"Fuck protocol!" you yelled, all the anger and sadness and anxiety that had built up over the past fifteen hours exploding at this very moment. "Rush my labs. Or don't even get my labs done at all. I haven't had sex, so I don't have any STDs. I don't have any diseases or deficiencies since I moved in with Jay years ago. My blood type's O-neg, so I'm a universal donor. Take my goddamn blood, Crockett!" You didn't care that all that information was out in the open because you were barely processing what you were saying. The only thing you cared about was making sure that your brother was okay.

"Y/N," Will said as he walked up to you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Don't touch me! And you sure as hell don't want to tell me to calm down!"

"Y/N," Will started again as he took his hand off your shoulder. "What Crockett's saying is that it's not ethical for him to do this. He could get fired."

"Where's the paperwork?" you asked as you turned back to Crockett. "I'll sign whatever I have to sign to make sure you aren't liable at all, that I'm donating this of my own free will. You can even take double the amount of blood that you normally do since I'm a universal donor. Just get me the paperwork."

Crockett and Will shared a look.

"I'll go get a nurse to get you the paperwork."

"Wait, no, no, no," Will said as he walked closer to Crockett. "You can't be serious about this!"

"She said she'll sign it."

"But, I have to co-sign it since she's a minor. So, no, you are not donating blood, Y/N. You almost passed out when I drew vials of your blood years ago. You know what's gonna happen if we take two units of blood? You are gonna feel like utter shit."

"Last I checked, I'm 18, so I can sign my own paperwork! God, I'm not a fucking child anymore, Will! I can make my own decisions!" you yelled back. "And if I don't do this, Jay will die. He'll die, Will. So, I'm giving him my blood with or without your support."

***

You sat in a chair, the ones that Will had told you about years ago with the big padded bar thing that came down in front of you in case you passed out. Typically, they'd just have you lay down in a bed, but since they were short on beds and Will told them that you had a history of getting dizzy and nauseous during simple blood draws, they had decided to put you here instead.

"Last chance to back out," Will told you as the nurse tied off your arm with a blue rubber tie and started to rub your arm to get the big vein in your left forearm to show.

"Jay's dying. No way in hell am I backing out."

Will sighed. He knew you were doing the right thing, but he also knew that you were going to feel terrible after, and he hated seeing you like that. "Okay," he said. "I'll stay here until they get the needle in you and then I'll get you some juice and cookies."

"Ready?" Monique asked.

"Ready," you confirmed. You turned to Will and squeezed your eyes shut as the needle pierced your vein. You heard the sound of the machine and knew your blood was going in there, but you didn't want to look. Getting your blood drawn, you could watch. But this, this was just too much blood to see, so you looked at Will.

"Doing okay?" he asked a few minutes later.

"Yeah," you answered because that was the absolute truth: you were feeling just fine.

"Okay, I'm gonna go get you some cookies and juice. I'll get an update on Jay while I'm out there, too."

You nodded and he left the room.

This wasn't so bad.

***

Okay, so you were lying to yourself. You were currently in hell. Giving the blood hadn't been an issue, it was how you felt after you were done giving blood.

You were currently sitting in that same chair, drinking some juice that Will had brought you. He told you that there was still no update on Jay, but that they were sending the blood back to him right now. (They had rushed labs on a small vial of blood that Monique took before you started the donation. The results came back while you were giving blood, and since your blood was clean, you could give it to Jay.) But, God, but you felt absolutely awful.

"You doing okay?" Will asked.

You shook your head and then stopped because it made you dizzy and put your head in your hands. "No," you groaned.

He handed you a glass of water. "Drink a bit of this too and then I'll open your pack of cookies."

"Why do you want me to drink water and not juice?" you asked as you closed your eyes and tried to stop the spinning in your head.

"Because, you're sweating, Short Stack. Need you to stay hydrated."

You took a few sips of water and then went back to your juice. Will handed you your pack of chocolate chip cookies and you started to eat them.

"Mhm," you groaned and laid your head down on the padded bar thing in front of you that kept you from falling out of the chair. "I don't feel so good."

You felt hot and cold at the same time and the world seemed to spin every time you lifted your head up. And, those cookies did not sit well with you.

"How do you feel? What hurts?" Will asked, jumping into doctor mode since Monique wasn't around. Will assured her that he could look after you while you recovered from your blood being donated at twice the normal amount.

"I just feel like shit," you told him, not picking up your head.

"You gotta give me some symptoms. Give me some symptoms and then I can help."

"Mhm, fine." You looked up at him and blinked slowly. "I feel hot and cold and sweaty. And I feel dizzy and nauseous."

"Okay. That's either a vasovagal reaction or from your blood pressure being low or from your heart rate being slowed down."

"What's that reaction thingy?"

"You don't like blood in general, so a nervous system response can happen, which could explain your reactions. But, your BP could also be low, which could explain all this too. And, it's one in the morning and you haven't slept yet, so tiredness could also be a factor."

"Great," you said sarcastically as you remembered the last time your blood pressure was low.

You had taken some of Jay's medication that he had to ward off his PTSD-induced nightmares after you were involved in a shooting at a house party. The one time you took them without sleeping directly after, you felt almost exactly like this...except without the sweatiness. You just mostly felt dizzy. You had called Will, he came over, and then you ended passing out and he had to get you to Med. Then you were admitted and they got your pressure back up. You were also prescribed sleeping pills which had helped immensely.

Will grabbed a blood pressure cuff from a drawer. "Arm," he told you. You held out your arm and he wrapped the cuff around it and pumped the end of it.

You waited as he looked at the gauge on the blood pressure cuff. Will said one number over another number, which meant nothing to you, but must've meant something to him. You raised your eyebrows, hoping he was going to tell you what those numbers meant in non-medical English terms.

"BP's low, which explains most of the symptoms," he told you.

You took another bite of your cookie and washed it down with some juice, but then immediately after started dry heaving.

Will rushed around and then thrust a pink basin under your mouth.

You took a deep breath after you finally stopped dry heaving about thirty seconds later.

"Better?" Will asked. You shook your head. "I'm going to get you an IV of anti-nausea medication."

You were going to argue with him about how he wasn't working, so he probably couldn't get you that. And, you were fairly certain he couldn't prescribe things to family. But, you felt terrible, so you really don't care if Will was being reckless and borderline unethical/illegal right now.

You nodded and then laid your head back down.

When Will came back, he thought you were asleep, but when you heard footsteps, you looked up.

"Alright," he began as he assembled the IV. "Last poke of the day, I promise."

"After this can I take a nap in the on-call room?" you asked as you held your arm out to him once again.

"You know I can't let you do that." Will tied a blue band around your arm and started rubbing it to get a vein in the inside of your elbow. Then, he noticed your pale and sweaty face. "Fine. Hopefully, Goodwin won't fire me after this. But I have a good reason. Turn so you don't see the needle."

You did and closed your eyes. You felt the poke and squeezed your eyes shut, but then it subsided and you felt that weird feeling of the medicine going straight into your veins. God, you hoped this worked.

You hoped Jay would survive because you didn't just go through all that for nothing.

***

You slowly opened your eyes as you felt someone shaking your shoulder. "No," you groaned as you turned to face the other side of the bed.

But then you remembered where you were: the doctors on-call room because Jay had been shot. Maybe it was Will waking you up to tell you--

"Short Stack, wake up. Jay's awake."

That got you wide awake.

You snapped your eyes open, rolled over, and jumped out of bed.

"I take it you're feeling better?" Will asked.

"Sleep helps. Let's go!"

Will quickly led you out of the room and through some hallways and up a few flights of stairs to Jay's recovery room.

He was currently talking to Hailey.

"Jay!" you exclaimed as you burst into the room to see him with a sling and see Hailey helping him with his jacket.

"Hey, Short Stack," he greeted and then turned his attention back to Hailey. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Uh, just that I'm glad you're back," she told him. "I'll give you some time with your siblings." She turned her attention to Will. "Oh, and the things you told me to tell Kim to get are in that corner." She pointed to the left front corner of the room. "Bye, guys." She waved and then left.

You gave Jay a huge hug and tried to avoid his arm that was in a sling. "Don't you ever do that again, you hear me?" you told him seriously and then looked up at him with tears in your eyes.

Jay chuckled. "I'll try not to."

"You better do more than try." You went back to leaning your head against his chest as tears soaked his t-shirt.

"Hey, hey, don't cry," he soothed. "I'm okay. I'm fine, Y/N."

"I was so scared. The last thing we would've done was argue. I'm so sorry. I should never have asked to go to those protests. I know you were just trying to protect me--"

"Hey, it's okay for you to have your own opinions and views. It's just gonna take me a while to get used to you being an adult now and not that little sister who would always hold my hand and beg to go to Build-A-Bear."

"Speaking of Build-A-Bear," Will started and then walked over to the corner of the room and picked up two boxes. They were white boxes with dark blue designs on them. You knew those boxes: they were what the workers put new bears in when a kid came and bought one. You let go of Jay. Will peeked into one of the holes. "This one's for you." He handed Jay a box. "And this one's for you." He handed you the other box.

"You got us Build-A-Bears?" you asked as you raised an eyebrow.

"Just open the boxes."

You did and laughed when you saw Beary in the box, dressed in a hospital gown and white little bunny slippers. Your brothers were not kidding when they said they'd get one for you.

Jay laughed as he opened his. His Build-A-Bear was a light blue color and it also had on a hospital gown as well as a sling on one arm. The bear also had on a policeman cap. "Oh, man," Jay said as he continued laughing.

"Press the right paw," Will told him and he did, causing Ruzek's voice to float through the room.

Stop getting kidnapped. Glad you're okay, though.

You started laughing hysterically at this point.

"One more thing," Will said as he walked over to the counter and pulled out a marker and two hospital bracelets. On one he wrote Beary Halstead. "Jay, what are you naming your bear?" Will asked.

"I gotta name it?"

"Um, it's not an it. It's a he or a she...could be a they, too," you said.

"Fine. I gotta name him?"

"Yes," Will told him.

Jay groaned. "Fine. Blue."

"Boo! That's boring," you said.

He groaned again. "Detective Blue. There. Better?"

"Better," you confirmed.

Will wrote Det. Blue Halstead on the other hospital band. Then, he handed Beary's to you and Detective Blue's to Jay.

"I cannot believe you," Jay said.

"I can," Will laughed. "Now put it on him. Just like Y/N's doing with Beary."

Jay reluctantly put it on Detective Blue's arm. But then he realized something. "Wait, why does Beary have a hospital gown if Y/N wasn't in the hospital?"

"Yeah, about that..." you trailed off.

Jay cocked his head to the side. "What did you do this time?"

"Other than save your life, I got nauseous and Will had to give me anti-nausea medication," you explained.

"Wait, back up. You saved my life? How?" Jay asked as he looked between you and Will.

"She essentially cussed at Crockett until she got what she wanted," Will said nonchalantly.

"Which was...?" Jay pried.

"Giving you blood because the hospital was out because of a car accident. If she wouldn't have given you blood..." Will trailed off, not wanting to say the words.

"I'd be dead," Jay practically whispered.

"Yeah," Will confirmed, his voice at about the same volume as Jay's.

Jay felt himself getting choked up as he pulled you in for another hug. "Thank you."

"I know you'd do the same for me."

"In a heartbeat, Short Stack. In a heartbeat."

You stayed like that until Will went ahead and broke the comfortable silence that had fallen over the three of you.

"I hate to break this up, but there's something else I need to tell you guys," Will said.

You and Jay both turned to him and you let yourself out of Jay's embrace. "Which is?" you asked.

"Voight gave Jay two weeks furlough to recover and I talked Goodwin into giving me two weeks vacation--"

"How in the hell did you do that?" Jay asked.

"Let's just say I'm going to be working Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year's Eve, and New Year's Day. But that's beside the point. We have two weeks of vacation time."

"You do know I work right?" you asked.

"At a coffee shop, not at a big kid job," Will said. "And, I had Kim and Adam stop in there on their way to get the bears. They explained the situation and your work gave you two weeks off. Adam said he may have had to flash his badge, but that's beside the point."

"And you took vacation because...?" you asked.

"We need to make sure Jay relaxes and there's so many protests-turned-riots happening right now that we should probably get out of here."

"You do know it's not the peaceful protesters starting those, right? It's counter-protesters and other people who are racist bigots and people who decided they have no other choice but to be violent," you said, making your views known once again.

"I'm very much aware, Y/N. But, no matter who started it, people were running from tear gas and burning buildings last night."

"Alright, back on topic," Jay started, not wanting to have another argument like he had two days ago with you. "Where are we going?"

"I figured Wisconsin would be a good choice."

***

"It's my turn to pick the music," you whined as Will looked for another song on your long drive to Wisconsin.

"I'm the oldest, so I get control of it," Will argued.

"No, you've controlled it for the last three hours. I've had to listen to nineties hip-hop for that long. My eardrums are gonna bleed. Please make him give the aux, Jay."

"Dude, just give her the aux, and then she'll be quiet. Remember, she likes early 2000s pop-punk and 2000s stuff in general. We'll probably know most of it."

Will reluctantly handed you the aux. "Thank you. And, just to remind you two, I'm a big fan of Taylor Swift's first few albums and 5 Seconds of Summer."

You clicked play on Take What You Want by One OK Rock featuring 5 Seconds of Summer. You queued up some more songs by 5 Seconds of Summer and two by Taylor Swift, just to mess with your brothers, and then you added songs they would know like All the Small Things by Blink-182, Check Yes, Juliet by We The Kings, Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time Low, and Ocean Avenue by Yellowcard.

By the time Dear Maria, Count Me In started playing, all three of you were jamming out, which caused Jay to forget to put his blinker on when he changed lanes...and there was a cop right there in the emergency turnaround.

Jay heard and saw the sirens behind him and slowed down. He knew the drill from pulling people over on his days on patrol. Now that he was in Intelligence, he practically just ripped the criminals out of their cars and handcuffed them against the side of their (usually stolen) car.

He got out his license and registration, along with his badge because he did have his service weapon with him. He'd be damned not bringing it with him in this day and age...and sometimes there were coyotes and he and Will didn't know if the old hunting rifle at the cabin that your grandpa used to use even had ammunition in and if there was even any ammunition at the cabin.

Jay rolled down his window as the officer walked up to him.

Your hands started to sweat and your heart started to race as you remembered your last encounter with an officer that you didn't know.

You were driving home from the library late at night after studying for a biology exam. And no, the library wasn't an excuse for going out and partying. You genuinely had gone to the library and had had a great and very focused study session for a few hours.

All of a sudden, you saw flashing lights and heard sirens. You turned down your music. You looked in your rear-view mirror and saw that the cop was right on your tail. He turned off his sirens and then turned them on and off quickly.

You were the one getting pulled over.

You pulled off to the side of the road and then rolled down your window.

"License and registration," the officer told you. He looked young, maybe a rookie.

"What's the problem officer?" you asked. Jay always told you that you had a right to know why you had been pulled over.

"You were going three miles over the speed limit, did you know that?"

"I don't recall how fast I was driving." Jay always told you never to admit to speeding because then you could fight the ticket if you ended up getting one.

"License and registration, please," he repeated.

"Reaching into my glove compartment and moving some CDs to get my registration," you narrated and then handed the registration to the officer. "Reaching over to my passenger seat to grab my purse which has my license in it...unzipping my purse...reaching in for my license." You handed him your license.

He ran your information and then came back to the window. "I'm sorry, Miss, but I have to give you a ticket."

You furrowed your eyebrows. For three miles over the speed limit? No fucking way was this happening.

"Uh," was all you could say.

"But, there is something you can do to get out of this ticket. You help me out, I help you out."

"I- I don't understand," you stuttered.

He looked down and you followed where he was looking and cupping himself with the hand that wasn't holding your license and registration.

"I- I..."

"Or I can just up this speeding ticket to going twenty miles over it. Say there was an open container in the car, too," he said.

You had no idea what to say. You couldn't risk getting your insurance upped and getting a minor in possession charge. You'd never be allowed to drive again!

But, there's no way you'd do this. You couldn't. But he was so much bigger than you that he could hold you down with one hand tied behind his back.

He placed his hand on the door handle. "You have three seconds to make your decision. One...Two..."

"My brother's Jay Halstead! Badge number 51163! His Sergeant's Hank Voight!" Your voice trembled as you yelled that and you were close to tears.

He looked back down at your license. It did say Y/N Halstead on it. He handed you back your license and registration. "Have a nice night."

Then, he walked back to his patrol car, got in, turned off the sirens, and drove off. You were so scared that you didn't even look to see what his last name or badge number was.

Once you had stayed pulled over for a good couple of minutes to make sure that the cop was nowhere in sight, you started driving again. You stopped at a drive-thru and got yourself a chocolate flurry with Oreos. Then, you sat in the parking lot with your hands still shaking and your heart still racing as you ate and started to cry. You cried for almost half an hour and waited there for another fifteen minutes so your eyes wouldn't be as puffy when you got home because you didn't want Jay asking questions.

"Y/N, you good?" Jay asked, taking you out of your thoughts.

"Yeah, yeah," you said quickly...almost too quickly. "Why?"

"Will just asked if you wanted to go back because we missed a song and you didn't answer."

"Yeah, I can do that." You quickly went back to the previous song and tried to sing with as much happiness as you did previously. But, you didn't get the image of that night or the feeling of dread out of your stomach for another hour.

***

You woke up the next morning very well-rested. The boys had taken the loft and the two twin beds that were up there and you got to take your mom and dad's old room because you were the only girl, so they said it was only fair that you got the bedroom.

You heard the dripping of water and got out of bed and then padded down the hall and to the kitchen. Jay was standing there in pajama pants and a t-shirt. (Thank God he wasn't shirtless for once in the morning. Your brothers really needed to learn how to put shirts on when they walked out of their rooms in the morning...and maybe by you telling them to put a shirt on all the time, you training them had finally paid off.) He drummed his fingers on the counter while he waited for the coffee to be done.

"Morning," you said.

He turned around. "Good morning. Shocked you're awake. It's only 8 am."

"And I'm shocked you haven't been up for two hours," you retorted.

"Oh, I've been up for an hour, just been reading upstairs. Will's not up yet, though."

"He always sleeps late when he doesn't have to work though, doesn't he?"

"Pretty much. We've made breakfast plans before and he's missed them because he was sleeping."

The timer went off on the coffee pot, alerting you that it was finished. Jay started to pour his in a tumbler. He held out a tumbler to you. You raised an eyebrow, silently wondering why he wasn't pouring it into a mug.

"I was gonna go for a morning canoe ride. You can come along if you want. Wouldn't want hot coffee spilling all over us," he told you.

"Did you bring creamer?" you asked.

"Irish cream creamer, just for you."

You reached into the fridge and grabbed the creamer.

"So, canoe ride?" Jay asked.

"Sure."

He poured coffee into a tumbler for you and then slid it to you to put your desired amount of creamer in.

***

Twenty minutes later, you were starting out in the canoe. You told Jay there was no way in hell that you'd be doing the rowing. He told you that he could only row with one arm because of his sling, so you'd have to do the other side. Skeptically, you started rowing. Jay told you that you'd be fine, just to follow his instructions.

Fifteen minutes later, when you were out in the middle of the lake, facing the forests of Wisconsin, he stopped.

"Why'd you stop?" you asked.

He picked up his tumbler of coffee off the floor of the canoe. "We need to talk."

"About what?" you asked as you picked up yours as well and held it with both hands.

"About your reaction last night when I got pulled over. You freaked. I need to know why."

"I- I didn't freak. I was just tired," you lied.

"You had quite the amount of energy right before that," he quipped.

"It's nothing."

"Y/N, I'm not letting this go. Is it because of the protests and riots and because of all the media coverage and those few bad apple cops and, I guess the system, that you're seeing that's making you nervous?"

"No, it's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"You're not going to let this go are you?" you asked.

"I will stay in this canoe in the middle of the lake until you tell me what is going on, Y/N Halstead."

"You wouldn't."

Jay shrugged with the arm that wasn't currently in a sling. "Try me."

You sighed. "Just don't be mad that I didn't tell you sooner, okay?"

"I won't. You have my word on that."

"So, a little over a month ago I was driving home from the library..."

***

When you finished, you were in tears. "Did you get a last name? Badge number?" Jay asked as he rubbed circles on your back with his good hand.

You sniffled. "N- No. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all."

"If I wouldn't have said- said your name...He had his hand on my door handle! And he was so much bigger than me. I'm sorry!"

You turned and buried your face in his chest. "Y/N, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"I should've told you right away, though! But you just had that really rough case and I didn't want to put too much on your shoulders and--"

"Y/N, I need you to take a deep breath. You need to breathe. This was not your fault. None of it was."

You calmed your breathing and just sat there, silent tears streaming down your face.

"That's why I wanted to go to the protests," you said after a few minutes. "Because I've actually had a bad experience with a cop."

"Which should've never happened in the first place."

"I was so scared," you whispered.

Jay just hugged you tighter as he thought about how strong his little sister was. You had given blood to save his life even though you knew you'd feel terrible after and you hadn't told him about this horrible cop--which he would kick this cop's ass the minute the got back to Chicago--because you didn't want him to have too much on his plate after that terrible case where he put an innocent man in jail and got him killed...which was the main reason he had been shot.

"When we get back to the cabin, I'll try and call Voight. I don't know if I'll have service, though."

"Why?" you asked.

"I'm gonna have him look up who was on their beat near you that night so he can go interrogate people on my behalf. Probably best he does it and not me." Because Jay knew that the minute he saw that cop, he wouldn't be able to hold himself back.

You nodded.

"Hey, cheer up, kid. We're here for two weeks, away from everything. Away from the city and everything that goes on there. And I can promise you that that cop will get what's coming to him, whether that be losing his job or going to jail or prison."

"Do I have to tell Will? Or can you tell him? I really don't want to talk about this again."

"I can do it," Jay answered. "Speaking of Will, if he's not up when we get back, what do we say we wake him up with some cold lake water?"

"Like dump it on him?" you asked as you widened your eyes. Jay nodded. "No, that's mean. Then he'll have to wait for his sheets to dry out and they'll smell the entire time."

"We have spare sheets and blankets in the closet."

"Fine, let's do it. But just so you know, I'm telling him that it was your idea and I also have a lock on my bedroom door here, which will make it harder for him to sneak in and dump water on me."

"I will be sleeping in your room tonight," Jay joked.

"Nope. It was your idea, so you're gonna have to live with Will's payback."

Those two weeks were filled with laughter, pranks, board games, corn hole, swimming, fishing (well, you read either in the canoe or on the dock while the boys fished), and just spending time with each other. You were glad that Will had the bright idea to take two weeks up here...even though he got drenched in cold lake water the first morning by you and Jay.

A/N: I got a request from @ La_lectrice_33 on wattpad for Y/N going to the dentist, so I hope you liked that little scene! I also got a request from an anon on here about Jay and Will's reactions to her growing up, so I put that in here, too. Thank you for over 23k reads! I won't be posting until this Sunday (August 1) when I start posting AUs for AU-gust. Please remember to like/reblog and comment because I love seeing those like/reblog notifications pop up and love reading your comments and asks! As always, if you would like to be added to my tag list, just tell me and I’ll add you! Finally, like my imagines? Buy me a coffee (only $1 through Paypal and other currencies can be used) here: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/Kayela

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88

208 notes · View notes

beomglocks · 3 years

Text

mr. choi ; c.sb

summary : your new neighbor comes over to introduce himself.

pairing : dilf neighbor!soobin x (legal)!reader

warnings & other : slight SMUT, dont read if youre uncomfortable with age gaps, sexual tension, noninnocent (?) touching, there’s like one curse, happy valentines day

w/c : 1.7k

after hours of locking yourself in your bedroom you finally decide to come out and grab a snack from the kitchen. you vaguely remember the sound of the doorbell being rung and distinct chatter coming from the living room following but you frankly weren't interested in whoever had arrived.

by now though, the chatter had died down to simple conversation and the occasional obnoxious laugh from your mom specifically. you stretch, walking out of your bedroom and completely forgetting that you had a guest.

you barely even walk past the living room when you see a man sitting on the love seat with a simple black tee shirt and slacks on, his jacket draped over the couch's back. his legs are spread open, strawberry hair messy, and head leaning against his veiny hand, listening to your mom drone on about something your older sibling did in their youth.

"oh," you say out loud. suddenly all eyes are on you and you can't help but shrink at the mans lingering gaze on your body. you're suddenly self conscious about the fact that you're wearing booty shorts and a white shirt that was a bit more on the translucent side, that and the fact that you were wearing no bra.

"oh mr. choi, this is my daughter y/n!"

he doesn't answer right away, subtly dragging his eyes down your body as if undressing you while you stand awkwardly at the entrance of the living room. "hello y/n," he says simply, staring back into your eyes.

your body gets hot and you feel a familiar wetness start to accumulate just above your thighs. the way he said your name just felt so right. his voice seemed gravelly as if he'd been yelling all day and just now had a chance to rest his voice with quiet conversation.

you completely forget your snack already finding something even more satisfying right in front of you.

you sit on the accent chair across from him, eyeing him down just as he did you. he smirks, amused by how completely unsubtle your arousal is.

"mr. choi just moved to our neighborhood and i thought it would be a good idea to introduce ourselves as neighbors," your mom explains. you nod, smiling at him.

"choi soobin," he starts. "i worked at a company in another city but was promoted so i had to move here for the new position. the neighborhood is nice, the people too," he says looking at you. you give him a bright smile, "im glad you like it."

soobin leans back in the chair, eyeing you once more, specifically choosing to linger his gaze on your chest. "so soobin-" his deep chuckle cuts you off and you look at him expectantly.

"im sorry... it's just that since i work at a company im used to people calling me mr. choi or... sir," he says, narrowing his eyes at you. "wow you must be at a high position!" your mom excitedly gapes and you have to wonder what her real intentions were when inviting soobin over.

"im quite respected," he says simply, still looking at you as if he's waiting for something. you give him a coy smile, deciding to tease him a little, "well sir, that's an interesting take away."

he smirks, letting out what seems to be a satisfied sigh. he turns to your mom, "is it alright if i have a glass of wine or something? my throat is a little dry from barking out orders all day."

your mom obligates to his request, attracted to the idea that this man was a hardworking businessman. you knew your mom would go find the most aged wine for him because she liked to show out for guests. especially guests that looked as fine as soobin. you also knew it would take her a while to find said wine, keeping it locked away for special occasions.

"y/n keep our guest company," she told you. you happily accepted that offer. yeah, you’ll keep him company alright.

now that you were alone with soobin you wasted no time in playing into his apparent attraction towards you. you open your legs slightly to lean forward on your hands which were situated between them. you saw his eyes flit down to your breast which were squished together due to your actions.

"so sir," you say innocently as if you aren't giving him a little show. "do you have a wife or children?" he shifts in his seat a bit, widening his legs in the process. you swear you can see a slight bulge in his pants if you squint. oh, so he's big.

he laughs at your question, "i don't have a wife, im divorced and yes i do have a son." your eyes widen only slightly. frankly, the thought of him having a son doesn't bother you in the slightest. you decide to ask him how old his son is for conversation purposes.

he hums lowly, "he's 18....how old are you?" you're surprised your mom hadn't told him your age. she probably thought it wasn't information she deemed was necessary for him to know.

"im legal," you say with a smile. he smiles at that and you swear your pussy twitches. he's so attractive and he's barely done a thing! you stare at his crotch while his leg bounces and you can only shamelessly imagine yourself bouncing on his cock.

you wonder how big is. he looks tall as hell so that gives you some ideas. his legs look to take up almost half his body. god, what would it look like grabbing onto his thighs as he fucks himself into your mouth? you can imagine the tears running down your face and runny nose as you look up at him and he looks down at you with the exact same expression he holds right n-

"that's good to know," his voice cuts through your dirty thoughts. he doesn't even address how you were blatantly staring at his crotch because at this point he doesn't even care. he knows you want him but he'll wait for you to say it. even if you don’t say it today, he knows you’ll say it eventually.

you move your hands and squeeze your legs together. you can already feel yourself dripping at just the thought of this man across from you. he's so close yet so far and the sexual tension is killing you.

you get up from your spot, casually walking up to where he sits. he stares at you curiously wondering what you plan to do. you choose to sit right next to him on the couch. just close enough that if your mom walked through at any moment you could recoil and it wouldn't look suspicious at all.

you don't say a word and you place your hand lightly on his knee, slowly moving it up to his upper thigh. "what are you doing babygirl?"

babygirl? fuck. just the pet name coming from his mouth alone has your breath going shaky. you rub your thighs together in anticipation. "nothing sir," you smile.

his hand is suddenly placed atop of yours and he drags it just above his growing erection. "look at what you're doing baby," he moves his head close your ear.

"you came down here dressed like a little slut, i bet you wanted the attention right?" he asks. "as soon as you saw me you probably couldn't wait to have me fuck the shit out you."

the words he mumbles in your ear have you unconsciously palming his dick through his slacks. "sir.." you whimper. he hums, holding back a moan as you continue palming him at your own accord. his hand is now at your upper thighs slowly inching up.

he placed two of his cold fingers pressing onto your pussy through your shorts. "you're so wet that i can feel it through your shorts. did i do this?" he chuckles, now rubbing up and down slowly. you nod, looking up at him through your lashes. "yes it was all you, sir. all you."

he suddenly pulls away completely from you with a light smile. he also removes your hand from him and leans forward on his knees, his upper body effectively covering his boner. you're confused about his actions and kind of annoyed until you hear your mom call from the hallway, "mr. choi i hope you like this flavor, it's one of my finest!"

"im sure anything you have tastes delicious!" he answers, glancing at you. you shy away from his eyes as your mom walks into the kitchen. since the kitchen is too close to the living room to do anything he whispers to you, "shy now?" he laughs a little bit. "you're too cute y/n."

you wish he'd called you a cute petname right then but you'll take what you can get. he places his hand on your knee and you shiver, remembering his fingers on you just seconds ago.

he removes them once your mom walks into the living room with two glasses of wine, one for him and one for her. they talk for a little while more, and you occasionally chime in but really you're too distracted by soobin. the heat he's radiating is too much to handle plus you're still sitting close enough to see that he's still hard.

it gets late and so the night ends for you three. "my son is probably wondering where i am by now, i should go," he says standing up. your mom agrees and you escort him to the front door while she takes the glasses back to the kitchen.

soobin notices your disappointment at not having finished what you both started on the couch earlier but he leans down to whisper in your ear. his voice sends shivers through your whole body and his hot breath tickles your neck and ear. "don't look so dejected babygirl, this isn't the last time we'll see each other." he kisses your cheek as he ascends back up when your mom meets you both at the door.

"say hello to your son for me! oh and next time bring him over so he can meet y/n," your mom suggests just as he walks out the door. he turns around to look at you both and you can tell he isn't too fond of that idea but he still answers with a polite smile.

"maybe! well i had a nice time maam, i'll be seeing you two around," and with that, he leaves and you simply cannot wait for the next time you'll see mr. choi.

#soobin smut #soobin x reader #txt smut #txt imagines #txt scenarios #soobin scenarios #soobin imagines #choi soobin smut #txt x reader #smut

741 notes · View notes

after-witch · 3 years

Text

Fragile Little Thing [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Title: Fragile Little Thing [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Synopsis: Your “boyfriend” is having a rough day and he doesn’t appreciate you being such a difficult partner. If you can’t behave, maybe he can’t behave, either.

For request: a fic with Yandere hawks. Maybe he breaks/ ruins something extremely precious to his darling. Something that money just can’t buy.

Word Count: 1800ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped, abuse

The muffled sounds of Hawks returning to the apartment are all too familiar. Jingling of keys. Click, click, clicking of the locks. You know he'd love it if you greeted him at the door, like you used to do. Which is partially why you choose to remain in bed--though really, you've hardly left it since that morning, except to greedily drink water from the tap and use the restroom.

So it comes as no surprise when the door to your 'shared' bedroom opens and Keigo stands in the doorway, looking disapproving and sad and--you catch it, in the way his eyebrows furrow--slightly annoyed at the way you're in practically the same position as when he left: curled up on the bed, holding onto a pillow like a shield in front of you.

"Babe," he says. "We've talked about this. You need to get dressed after I leave. Did you even eat?" His tone is worried, oh so worried, but you see the way he looks around the room--at the mess, at his laundry on the floor where he dropped it--in distaste. "You could at least pick up when I'm gone. We both have responsibilities around the place, y’know."

You suck in some much-needed air and hold the pillow tighter.

"Then let me leave so I can live on my own and you don’t have to worry about me not cleaning up."

"Babe, you--." He clicks his tongue--stops himself from continuing on whatever road he was about to walk down. "Let's not start this again. We agreed to move in together. We agreed that I'd handle the bills, if you handled most of the housework."

The pillow is practically folded in half now, with the way you're clenching it. "Yes. Yes we did agreed to that. Until I realized that you're a fucking crazy person and you locked me up in this apartment for trying to leave." You stare directly at him, a challenge, daring him to contradict you again with his manipulative, deluded bullshit.

Instead, he sighs, and runs an exasperated hand through his hair. "Hey, okay, okay. I've had a really.... rough day." His voice is lower, almost gravely, and you believe him when he says it. Too bad you don't care anymore. "I'm really not up for a fight tonight. Let's call a truce."

When he says truce, your mind spins on a familiar reel. He wants a truce. He locked you up in this apartment and won't let you leave. He wants a truce. He made your friends and family believe you'd run off. He wants a truce?

The force of your thoughts has you scooching up in the bed and bracing your back against the headboard. You watch him--watching you--and wonder if he thinks you'll give in. Sometimes you do--it's inevitable, something you've thought long and hard about when you're in the apartment for hours upon end. You couldn't stand to live if you were constantly yelling at him, screaming, crying.

But you've had a few good naps, and you can stand it today.

"Fuck your truce," you spit, "and fuck your rough day--and fuck you."

His shoulders jerk in response to your words and fuck, is that satisfying. You've gotten to him. He wanted you to force a smile and say fine, whatever, what's for dinner. But you didn't. And now he can't go about the rest of his night in his deluded little fantasy that you're a willing spouse and he's going to have shitty dreams and hopefully an even shittier day tomorrow.

He's not at his limit, though, because he simply walks further into the bedroom. He stares at your dresser, the one pushed right up against his. You'd decorated it with your own knickknacks, back when you'd moved in--back when you were here willingly. Picture frames and personal mementos and jewelry that you don't bother wearing anymore.

He picks up a necklace, one he always complimented when you wore it out on dates--then increasingly, when you wore it on your evenings-in after he began insisting that you spend quality time in private instead, until finally you were trapped here and stubbornly refused to put it around your neck again.

"Angel, sweetheart, my sweet chickadee." He's tired. You're not--naps, good stuff. "Let's just both agree we're being… testy." He sets the necklace down and walks towards the bed. You flip your body around, bury your face down in the soft pillow so you can avoid looking at him. It’s childish, but you don’t care. "Then we can go make some dinner. Or we can order takeout, whatever you want. What do you say?"

His voice has an edge. You should be wary, you know this, yet your instinct for self-preservation lately has been smoothed away in favor of defiance, some meager inch of pride you can dig out for yourself.

And so you dig.

"Go. to. hell."

Something SLAMS--his fist, hard--on the headboard above you, just inches above the top of your head.

You don't have enough time to process what just happened before Keigo gets up, furious, feet pounding on the floor and voice hot with anger. You cringe at the tone, which has crossed from annoyed into flat-out pissed.

"How many other guys would put up with this shit? Huh?" You're half-listening, half-frozen.

You force yourself to turn over, keeping the pillow in front of you like a shield for more reasons than one, now.

"Most guys would expect to come home to a clean house and a good meal and a girlfriend who doesn't lay her ass in bed all day, crying about stupid shit."

You feel your own fury blooming in your chest. "I'm not your girlfriend--"

In a second, something shatters on the wall behind you, above you, throw just inches above your head. You crane your head down and you can just make out the mess on the floor, between the side table and the legs of the bed: jumbled shards of an ashtray, old and unused, something you'd stuck on the dresser ages ago when you were still allowed to have cigarettes. Before his jealousy turned to control, before he wouldn't let you leave--before you couldn't even smoke, because you couldn't open the windows.

You slowly turn your head to look at Keigo, and you stare at each other in silence, the air thick and hot between you. You can see his feathers bristling and your skin crawls at the thought of his feathers being the next thing to come flying towards you.

"I treat you like a princess," he says finally--and you scoff. You regret it immediately when you see his entire body, from his feet to his feathers, tense at the sound. You dug too deep.

"I treat you like a princess," he repeats, harsher, more strained. "And you don't appreciate it one fucking bit."

He picks up your phone, one of the few non-dusty items you've routinely set on your dresser in recent weeks. In a flash his arm moves, and you don't have time to say or do anything before it joins the ash tray on the floor. You glance and you can see the screen, black and shimmery, cracked into a hundred hairline cobwebs.

Don't move, you think. Don't move don't move.

He picks up a porcelain plate, thick with dust. A trinket from an antique mall Keigo took you on your... third date, you think. Or fourth. He trails his gloved finger along the dusty rim and wipes off the gunk on his pants.

"I clean for you," he says, voice low and spiteful. "You refuse to wash one fucking dish without trying to throw it at my head when my back is turned."

The plate is whipped so fast that it brushes your arm before it lands on the floor in a heap. At least its shards are on the floor, not your face.

"I cook for you. I buy you whatever takeout you want. You don't give so much as a nice little thank you."

You're waiting for something else to fly your way, waiting for the moment he finally says fuck it and hits you instead of the headboard, instead of the wall. But he's standing stock still now.

You're furious with him. You're scared of him. You want to reason with him. You don't know which feeling to deal with and so your words fall somewhere in between anger and terror and the need to placate.

"Keigo--" he looks at you when you say his name, and it's something. "Keigo, you kidnapped me. I don't want to be here. I--I broke up with you. We're not... we're not healthy together. Why can't you understand that?'

Tears are pricking at your eyes and his figure is a little blurry as he faces you with a strange calmness--strange, considering he just hurled hard, potentially sharp objects close to your face. You wipe your tears and his eyes are practically piercing into yours before he speaks.

"Take that back. Take that back right now."

You swallow against the harsh tightness pressing inside your throat.

"We're dating," he says, with the same low intensity. "We're very happy together."

You're so tired, now, so tired that it's hard to be angry with him. You just settle for being sad.

"We're not."

He turns back to the dresser and picks up a figurine--the figurine, the one you carefully set on your dresser the very first day you moved on; the only thing on your dresser that you dust off every morning. The last figurine your mother made you before she died, hand-painted and hand-made and the only one of her creations that you have left.

And he knows, he knows all this, he knows it's important and you can only let out a breathy, desperate cry before it's hurled at the wall with cruel force.

Your hands fly out to catch it--impossible--and the brief brush of the hard porcelain against your outstretched fingers is the last memory you'll have of it before it smashes against the wall. Fragile, broken, in shards.

The sound that comes out of your mouth when you see the shards of the figure, the shards of your mother’s memory is involuntary and primal. A sound that makes you clutch your chest to make sure you’re not dead--you’re not, no, you’re alive and you hurt so much that you think you’re going to break in half. Your hands clutch at your mouth and you scratch your lips without feeling or knowing it.

Keigo has already swooped in, and you don’t hear every word so much as his tone--so sorry and worried and oh-fuck-oh-fuck-oh-fuck, he didn’t mean it, he was just so angry, he’ll fix it he’ll fix it he’ll fix this. His arms and his wings are wrapped around you, gentle and invading, as he rocks you slowly. Back and forth, back and forth. You don’t fight. You don’t scream at him. You just stare ahead, at the empty space where the figurine used to be, a clean circle surrounded by a layer of dust. It was a fragile little thing--and so are you.

#yandere hawks #yandere keigo takami #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #yandere #afterwitch writes

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lyallblacklupin · 3 years

Note

Hey. I don't know if you are still taking prompts... but if so, I may have a challenge for you. 😉

Remus has to stay in the hospital wing for longer than usual. Sirius is secretly dating Remus and can't stand being away even though Madame Pomfrey says no visitors.

Thank you for such a cute prompt. I hope I have written just like you wanted. <333 Happy Reading! Stay Magical!

Rating: Teens and Up Audience.

The night was befalling as the walls of Hospital Wing started darkening, and the torches around the room ignited flames automatically with a thud. The room is filled with utter silence of the unoccupied beds with Remus Lupin being an exception, laying exasperatedly awake with bandages wrapped around his left leg. His stomach growled but it was the least he cared about because of the aching on the tips of his fingers and toes as his chest was in a constant state of agitation. He wanted something. No, he was craving for someone. He couldn’t stop his brain from the race of unwanted thoughts.

What if he doesn’t want me anymore?

What if he has realized that I’m not worth dating?

What if he is better off with my absence?

Suddenly, his thoughts came to a halt when his senses heightened with someone’s fastidious and highly familiar presence. Remus didn’t even have to look to recognize because it was none other than Madam Pomfrey. He loved her but not momentarily—infact not from the past five days who had strictly banned any visitors since his and Sirius’ fight. Speaking of, he shut his eyes as the memory enrolled in his mind all over for the hundredth time.

“I could have killed you!”

“But you almost killed yourself!” Yelled the boy who Remus was in love with.

“That is the last thing to be worrying—“ But he was not finished when the boy lunged at him and yanked him by his fists clutching his hospital dress, bringing him eye to eye and nose to nose as he growled, “Don’t you ever fucking say that. If you don’t care a shit about yourself then at least care about me! Us! But you don’t! You don’t care about us! Fuck you, Lupin!”

Remus’ heart was hammering in his chest, the pain of his broken leg was long forgotten. The tears glistened in the boy’s hard eyes. And before he could lift him his hand to hold his jaw, to soften the clenched face, to wipe his hurt away, Madam Pomfrey burst inside with her raging thunder.

“Mr. Black! Hands off this instant! How dare you bully a patient like that!? And within the Hospital Wing!” And he loosened his grasp which left Remus with an empty feeling in his chest. Even if he was being held brutally, he didn’t care because he was held by the foremost person in his life. The person he would never wish to leave.

“He’s my—“ He tried but his voice was a whimper in comparison to Madam Pomfrey’s.

“A week’s detention Mr. Black for scaring my patient like that! None of your friends will ever visit the Hospital Wing! Now off you go before I take away the house points!”

He gave Remus one last look of misery, tears still swimming in his heaven-made silver eyes, and scurried away from the hospital.

Remus numbly watched Pomfrey re-bandage his wounds. He suddenly felt so despondent and lonely after rethinking everything. He had hurt his favorite person in the world. And all that person had done was the care and love him with his deepest sincerity. He also knew that his lycanthropy had always been on his mind that even led him to convince the rest of his friends to become Animagis just to protect Remus from hurting himself. And now Remus had done the very same thing by not allowing his pack to accompany him to the last full moon. His broken leg and severe wounds were the aftermaths of his isolated transformation

He didn’t want to admit that he regretted his decision because deep down inside he had been unbound from the usual fretfulness of hurting his friends. He’d been better off hurting himself than hurt them, especially Sirius Black.

Now, it had been five days and Remus had not seen him. Neither James nor Peter.

“Ma’am?” He didn’t realize he had called her before she looked at him in question while applying the salve on the half-healed wound. He hissed in pain but asked anyway, “When am I getting discharged from this bed and these walls?” The bitterness cut through his voice sharply which made Pomfrey look up in surprise.

“Well, Remus. I expect to call me Poppy instead of Ma’am after five years I’ve been treating you.” Remus suddenly felt hot with embarrassment, “And it will take few more days until your walk starts, and then you’ll be well enough to join your classes and friends.”

The way she spoke, Remus felt like he had centuries to wait. He flopped down on his bed again with disappointment, the hollowness in his chest created a bigger void. A Sirius Black void. He needed it to be filled by that very person. The longing was more than Remus expected, intense enough to cause burning in his eyes as his throat began to constrict gradually, tightening his chest. He held himself until his throat had turned thorny. He let out a shaky breath and tears spilled down his temple, founding their place in his already messy hair. He cried silently. He ached and ached until sleep drifted him away.

Even in his dreams, he saw dark hair rippling like the black sea, shiny grey eyes like silver orbs, and fair skin like snow accompanied with pink flushes on the dips of the body. And then he saw a hand reaching out to him and just as he tried to grasp it, the hand flew away with a burning brush on his arm. The sensation was warm enough to jerk him from his unconsciousness. Remus’ eyes opened up to the same ceilings of the hospital wings. The room was still inky blue. He saw his dinner tray on the nightstand in which the food had gotten cold and dry. He immediately touched his left arm where the same sensation was tingling his skin. Or maybe he just felt it in reality? But no one was there. Remus was alone and cold.

He tried closing his eyes again, feeling no appetite at all, but he sensed a faint noise of rustle. He ignored it before it came back again with a feeling of fingers brushing his arm again. He sat up abruptly, clutching his sheets to his chest. His eyes were scanning the room desperately when—

“Moony?” Remus screamed when he saw Sirius’ head appear in the mid-air. Sirius rush ahead to put his hand on his mouth, “Shh! Please! I don’t want to get more detentions, Moony!”

It was all too much to process; Sirius appearing like a genie with no body—before he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, and Sirius’ warm and sweaty hand on Remus’ mouth, and most importantly, Sirius was here in front of him after five fucking days. He removed his hand once Remus calmed down.

“Look, Moony, I’m sorry—“ He never got to the end of it because Remus shoved Sirius in his embrace. The embrace that was yearning for Sirius only. He thought he might have thrown away anyone if they had tried hugging him before his boyfriend. Remus squeezed him impossibly closer and tighter. He was clutching him like a lifeline. He had his face nuzzled in Sirius’ chest. His fragile arms were strongly wrapped around Sirius’ torso. He was relishing the scent, the touch, the love, and everything he had missed.

“Fuck, I missed you, Pads.” He grunted in his collarbone, “I was longing for you…”

“I’m here.” Sirius cooed in his ear, pressing a kiss beneath it, “And I’m not going.”

“You’ll have to,” He chuckled, traveling his hands to find Sirius’ and intertwined them both.

“Eventually, yes but don’t ruin the moment, Moony.” Remus was torn between tightening his embrace or pulling away to gaze at Sirius’ face but then he felt the other move away. They parted from their lingering hug, and Sirius delicately held Remus’ face and bent down to kiss him. Remus felt his body was set on fire. They kissed languidly at first until their desires amplified their passion. Sirius dug his knees on the bed while Remus complied by pulling him in his lap. Suddenly, his boyfriend gasped and jerked away.

“Remus! Your leg is broken and—I’m sorry!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just my calf area. I was not hurt okay?” Remus shushed him, peppering kisses on Sirius’ hands. The other boy nodded but frown still sitting on his face. He sat against him on the bed and Remus didn’t leave his hand. He just wanted them to be touching like an assurance of never parting again. They sat in silence. The flaming torches on the walls had already died out.

“Why did it took you so long?” Remus asked sheepishly, running circles on the outside of Sirius’ palm to make him sure that he was not mad.

“It’s not like I didn’t try,” Sirius spoke softly, “Had to sneak out from James’ hell hound eyes. And the last two days were spent in getting caught by Mrs. Norris. That fucking cat.”

“I love cats, okay? Don’t insult them.” Sirius cocked his eyebrow at him, “Yeah but she is such a pain in the arse.” They giggled. Remus couldn’t avert his eyes from Sirius who was avoiding his gaze, “Last two days, huh? It’s actually been five days. Are you mad at me?”

“Moony, how can I be mad at you?” The gentleness in his voice was powerful enough to cause Remus to feel hot behind his cheeks, “But yes, I admit that I was angry. I thought you didn’t want to see me. I thought that you’d want some space. But then I couldn’t stay away from you for so long. Life has been terrible without you.”

“Life has been terrible without you too, Sirius. I missed you so much. I felt bad the second you left this room. I felt so sorry to hurt you like that—“

“Your pain is my pain, Remus,” Sirius said sternly. His eyes are hard as steel. “You can’t isolate yourself like that. I know you fear hurting us but Moony, can’t you see? You are already hurting us like that. James has been quiet lately and Peter…well, he is just following his pursuit. What I mean is, none of us can see you wounded in hospital for like a week because of us. That we weren’t able to protect you.”

“It’s not your responsibility—“

“It is. You are mine.” Sirius squeezed their already entwined hands. The words were like a gush of affection in Remus’ heart. He was suddenly out of arguments. He smiled at the boy before him who smiled back weakly, “And yes, it’s been only two months since we started dating, but you already feel like my responsibility now.”

Remus arched an eyebrow at his flustered expression, “Wow, that’s quite patriarchal with few amendments since a man is claiming his supremacy on the other man.”

“Wha—you dominate over me all the fucking time!” They broke out in fits of laughter but then immediately clapped their hands on each other’s mouths to keep it down. Funnily, the more they forced themselves to be quiet the more laughter bubbled out of them. Remus suddenly grabbed Sirius by his collar and crashed their lips together. Their giggles were turned muffled until they were silently devouring each other’s mouths. Sirius was now moving from his jawline to his neck, and Remus turned into mush as the warmth began pooling into him. He just wanted to stay like this forever.

Suddenly, they both froze when the sounds of approaching footsteps came from the hall. Sirius lunged down to the floor to grab the invisibility cloak, and suddenly the door swung open.

“Mister Lupin?” McGonagall?

“Professor McGonagall.” Remus’ voice shook.

“I am sorry for barging into the Hospital Wing just like that, but I wanted to ask if Mr. Black might have stopped by here?” Even in the dark room, Remus was able to see the grave creases on her forehead. He gulped and eyed down the floor to found Sirius was nowhere to be seen.

“Umm…No, Professor.” He stammered.

“Well, that lad is one hurricane, isn’t he?” She sighed, “I hope you are recovering well, Remus.” Her voice softened and a hint of a smile passed her face. He nodded and then she was out of the hospital.

After he had made sure that there were no sounds of any footsteps he said, “What did you do now?”

“I came during my detention with McGonagall.” Sirius peeked through the cloak, with his entire body invisible.

“Okay, you look very creepy like that.” He stood, brushing off the dust from his trousers, “Come here, now. I want to relish you till my heart is contented. You are getting more detentions anyway.” He opened his arms for Sirius who fell into them with the goofiest smile on his face.

“You are such a masochist, Moony.”

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supercorpkid · 3 years

Text

Rescue Mission – Suicide Mission.

Part 4 - Not a fair fight.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader, Brainy x Reader, Eliza Danvers x Granddaughter!Reader.

Word count: 2480.

Warnings: Injuries. Pain. Angst. Some graphic fight scenes I guess.

Previously on the series - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Whatever it cost.

Your life has been put at stake before. You almost died three or four times. Honestly, too much for a 16-year-old-girl. But this. This is different. There’s no aunt Alex to call for help, no Supergirl coming in to help you pick up the pieces. No Lena waiting for you at home with comfort hugs and donuts.

You land on the DEO, shaking. You thought about not coming the entire way here. What if you just wait until Supergirl wakes up so she can help? Would it be that bad?

“Brainy!” You call him, and he turns around to you. Tablet in hands, still monitoring the shapeshifters. “Can we wait until my momma wakes up? Then we can go for them. I mean, I didn’t see much damage around the city so-”

“We can’t.” He stops you.

“Why? Honestly, we both know I’m no match for a shapeshifter.” You say, and Brainy looks up from his tablet.

“Oh.” He smiles a little. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

“I’m sorry?” But it doesn’t take long until you tie all the knots. Of course. Of course you couldn’t trust anybody!

Brainy turns into Supergirl right in front of your eyes, and hits you with a blow of freeze breath that throws you back down. You fall, all fours, and look up to the shapeshifter in front of you.

“You are definitely not a match for us.” It presses something in the tablet and soon you hear a woosh of air coming from containment and landing a punch on your face.

Shit! Fuck! Damn it!

It played you just right! Made you believe that you could trust ‘Brainy’ because he found your family, and imprisoned one of the shapeshifters, but it was obviously just a plan. Now both are here in front of you, and if one was already hard enough, two looks impossible to beat.

You get up and fly out of the DEO. First superhero rule: if possible, take the fight to where no civilians can get hurt, so you will have less casualties. In this case, maybe just yours is enough.

The other two Supergirls fly right behind you. You feel one of them grabbing your feet and tossing you back to the ground. You fly up less than a palm before your body hits the concrete. You keep flying farther away from the city, but it’s forced to stop sooner than you would like.

One of the Supergirls punches you down, and you feel your body smashing against a boulder in the desert, making a hole on the hard rock. Dust rises up and around you. You cough, getting up from the hole and you look at both aliens in front of you, using your momma’s pretty face. You can’t win. You wouldn’t be able to win even if you were up against just one Supergirl, let alone two. You breathe deep. You were right. Two Kryptonians are better than one. You just wish this advantage were to your side.

“So, it was you all along.” You yell from a distance.

“I told you not to trust anyone.” You hear Kara’s voice and your heart beats faster. “But I suppose you are just a kid.”

“I am.” You agree with your head, taking a deep breath. “But I am her kid!”

You fly towards them, punching one in the face, making it fall in the hard rock, like you did, breaking it off in the process. But you won’t give it a chance of recovery. You fly down, settling on top of its body. Kara’s body.

“You don’t deserve this face!” You say, giving it another punch. “You don’t deserve these powers!” Another one. “You don’t deserve to wear this crest on your chest!” It’s where you punch after and you watch the alien losing its breath, looking as beat up as you found your momma. You raise your fist again, ready to end it, and feel the other alien grabbing your hand.

“What makes you think you do?” It says, flying high with you, while you try to untangle yourself from its firm grip. When you look up again, it has changed its form. You’re face to face with yourself.

“I’m not a phony!” You twist around, and it drops your hand, kicking you in the chest instead. You fly far away, trying to regain your breath. “But now it’s a fair fight.”

“Is it?” It asks, tilting its head at you. You look at your face staring at yourself on the other side and smile. Yes. Now it’s a fair fight. You know your strengths, and you know your weaknesses. And you have so many of them.

It flies closed fist at you, but you saw it coming, it’s always your first move. You fly out of the way, hitting its back with your heat vision, making it fall on the ground, raising up dirt all around it.

“You can’t win.” Supergirl gets up from the hole it was in. Oh, come on, it was almost gone. You use your heat vision again, but it’s met in the middle with its own heat vision. Shit, this is useless. Fighting Kryptonians it’s a fucking hell.

The other alien rises from the ground, and you see yourself between both of them. You don’t have a lot of options, it’s clear to you. You can run, but where to? You can buy yourself time, but for what? Help isn’t coming, you know that.

“We shouldn’t both waste our time with this kid.” Fake Supergirl says, almost ignoring your presence right there between them. “You know where she took them. Go get them.”

Breath stops midway. Heart stops mid beat. Time slows at its own accord.

No. Not them. Not your family.

“Oh yes, we should thank you, by the way.” The other Superkid flies to Supergirl’ side, and your eyes are filled with tears with the sight of that. You wanted that. You wanted a Superkid and Supergirl team-up. Instead, two monsters are using your faces, bodies and powers. They don’t seem to acknowledge your discomfort with the scene, as they go on.

“Getting the whole family together in one place. You just made our job a lot easier. Now we can kill Supergirl and everyone she loves in just one blow. And you? You’ll be alive to see it all going down with your help.”

You swallow hard knowing they are right. You helped. You thought you were the one doing the saving, but they were letting you. They were playing you, so you can do the job for them and that’s why it felt so easy. That’s why you encountered almost no resistance; it was all for this moment right here.

It’s your fault Lena has no memories. It’s your fault Jamie was taken. It’s your fault Supergirl is not here defending the city and the family. And now it will be your fault they’ll kill all your family in one blow.

You feel something burning inside of you. It’s not anger, it’s not sadness. It’s a mix of all the feelings you once had. It’s the slow burn of love, and the heavy taste of hate on your mouth. It’s the bittersweetness of having such a strong and rotten last name, and the wonderfulness of being a part of this family. It’s the cautiousness of hiding your powers, and the relentless yearn of letting go and bursting into flames, destroying everything and everyone on your way. But most of all, it’s that moment where ‘you should do better’ kicks the ‘you’re doing great’ to the side of the curbs and takes a hold on you.

You could even try to hold this feeling inside you, but you know better. This is the time to stop thinking, stop using your powers, and let them use you instead.

“Don’t thank me just yet.” You say with a little smile playing on your lips.

Fighting two of them was never going to be a fair fight and you know it. Even with you letting your powers take over you, even after beating them, even with this faintest feeling that you might -just might- pull this off because you’re fighting for the right reasons.

It doesn’t take long until you find yourself trapped under both getting punches after punches. The taste of blood is strong on your mouth. You know you’re going to lose. You’re minutes away from blacking out.

You have been beaten down before. By red kryptonite Kara, by villains using green kryptonite against you, by aliens from another dimension, by your own fears and your anxiety. You were once beaten down to the point of suffocation. You were once covered in your own blood and vomit. For time and time again, you thought you were going to die. Once you even prayed that you would.

This moment right here, feels like another one of those. You can feel it. When they’re beating you down so hard your blood is the one splashing on their faces, when you slowly feel yourself losing consciousness. When the last thing you see before your mind goes totally blank is Lena’s eyes and Kara’ smile. Maybe this is the last time you feel you are going to die. Maybe this time you’re actually dying.

And you know what comes next. They’ll go to the Fortress. March in there using your face. It’s your face your family is going to see blowing up the entire place. And when they realize it’s not you, it will be too late, they will be doomed. Your whole family will be destroyed like they promised in the message.

You won’t accept it. You may die, but your family won’t.

You untangle yourself from them. Grab Supergirl’s cape -capes are lame, you still remember that- and fly up. Up. Up. Up. The other shapeshifter follows you, trying to catch you before you do what they understand now it’s going to happen.

“If you do this, you will die!” You hear Kara’s voice. But it’s not her, and you know your Kara would do anything to protect her family. Anything.

“I don’t care if it kills me. All I care about is taking you down with me!” You say and you reach the exact point. You know if you keep going, you’ll be too far gone. You almost died in outer space once. You don’t know exactly how you survived, but you know this time you can’t pull it off again.

You hold Supergirl’s cape stronger and spin it around. You see the shapeshifter trying to change its form, but it’s too late. You toss it into space and look down to the other one.

“Two Superkids dying in outer space together is almost… Poetic.” You fly towards the other shapeshifter, the one with your face.

“You don’t want to do this.” It says, staring at you, like it's looking at your soul.

“You’re right, I don’t.” You grab its throat and look up. “But it’s whatever it costs!”

Up. Up. Up.

No air left in your lungs, no other thought except that this is the right thing. Dying was never going to feel right but dying for your family, it’s the closest you could ever feel to death being right.

The other you are now transformed back into its ugly alien form, turning blue. They’re gone. It’s over.

You close your eyes feeling light-headed and you feel like crying. It doesn’t matter if it’s the right thing or if it’s for your family, you still don’t want to die, and you’ll still miss them.

You know this won’t matter. But maybe, just maybe, the watch will send them a signal and Kara will come for your body when she wakes up. That way they can mourn you properly. All of them, but Lena since she doesn’t even remember you anymore. At least she won’t suffer, you think. You press the emergency watch. And you’re out.

“Will you please stop going to outer space?” You hear softly in your ear, and you open your eyes trying to focus them on what is before you. Blonde locks flying in the wind, a perfect baby blue sky over you, and that warm smile only one person in this universe has. “I’ve got you, little one. You’ve got me before; I’ve got you now.”

You smile. And before passing out again you think that you have to stop almost dying. It’s starting to get truly exhausting.

You open your eyes, looking around to make sure you actually didn’t die. It’s stupid, you know, but still you find it’s hard to believe you pulled it off. Somehow you pulled it off.

Alex is in the bed next to you, awake, finally. Brainy is also in a bed, the real one that was probably hurt by the shapeshifters so one of them could take his place. Kara is pacing around nervously, and the rest of the family are also in the infirmary, creeping around the sick ones.

“You fucking dipshit!” Jamie slaps your arm, and you almost feel the sting. “I told you to come back. You promised you would come back whatever it costs!”

“Well… I’m here.” You give her a little smile and she rolls her eyes, full of tears. Next thing you know, she is hugging you tight, and sobbing on your suit.

“I hate you.” She whispers in your ear, and you smile, while the whole family looks at both of you. “I hate you and your hero complex.”

“I love you too.” You smile and she lets go of you with a smile. Kara is the next one to throw her arms around you and kiss your temple.

“You’re the best superhero in this town.” She says, and you almost believe her. Almost.

“Mom.” You let go of Kara and look around in the room. “Where is she?”

They all stare at you blankly. No one says a thing.

“Where is Lena?” You demand, and Kara drops her head low and lets out a sigh.

“We’re gonna get her back, kid.” Her hand cups your face, and she strokes your cheek. You see the pain in her eyes, and you feel tears forming on yours. “One thing at a time.”

Your heart squeezes on your chest, and you forget about the fact that you were probably actually dead for at least a minute, not long ago. This doesn’t seem remotely important, as Lena not having her memories and not knowing who you are right now. You almost died, and your mom is not here to hold you gently and say, ‘you’re ok babygirl’.

Kara seems to be able to read your mind, like Lena usually does, when she puts her hand on your knee and gives it a gentle and assuring squeeze. “One thing at a time, baby.”

#supergirl #kara danvers #supercorp #supercorpfamily #lena luthor #supercorp daughter #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp fanfic #lena x reader #reader insert #superkid

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amarriageoftrueminds · 3 years

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Now now, we all know how Bucky's been in love with Steve (and known about his feelings) his whole life, but what about Steve? I've always swayed towards the theory 'Steve's been in love with Bucky his whole life as well, he only realised after Bucky fell from the train', but what if Steve's known he's in love with Bucky since their Brooklyn days? That would shed an entirely different light on his interactions with Miss Nazis Hirer and the whole 'right partner' talk

Going by canon, I think there must've been either: a declaration of mutual feelings, or; the first foray into a sexual relationship in their late teens, because one of Bucky's trigger words was 'seventeen', and Steve said he felt like a 16 year old again when he heard Bucky's name.

What's interesting is, at that time, and especially in that place*, there wasn't the idea that gay sex acts made you gay, because there were loads of 'straight' men around (eg. sailors.) going with other men just for sex. This was pre pill, pre sex-before-marriage for most, especially for Catholics like Steve.

So it might be that Bucky and Steve were doing the do with each other looong before either of them came to the realisation that they were also, coincidentally, in love.

I agree that Bucky, simply because he's exposed to dating women more than Steve is, has more of an opportunity to Realise before Steve. He'd have the benefit of being able to contrast his experience of feelings with Steve, with his experience of feelings for others, leading him to a lightbulb moment.

And he'd cover this up (and keep up the pretense of believing both he and Steve are really straight) by going out with girls in the meantime; in a period-appropriate gentlemanly way, not bedding them. Also to protect him and Steve from any potentially dangerous accusations.

I don't see Steve as not knowing precisely that he is in love with Bucky; I think he knew before the events of CATFA started, and it was a big part of his motivation for wanting to go to war.

But I do think it hadn't occurred to Steve that he might only be attracted to Bucky / men until after he got serum -- because, before then, his health would've been a limiting factor.

Before then, I can see him thinking 'well it's no wonder I have no libido like Bucky does around women, I'm just too unwell!' and not connecting the dots.

This would explain why he seems so panicked when sexual situations arise with women, after the serum; because he's realising 'oh shit! actually, I don't even like this when I have Perfect Health!' and hastily trying to backpedal himself out of an unwanted situation.

My HC is both of them thinking they're the only male-attracted one in the relationship and they're just engaging in sex acts together for convenience' sake but the other one's only going to keep doing it until he can get a girl.

So when Steve shows up all heterosexual-passing, looking like he can get any girl he wants, Bucky looks devastated because he thinks that signals the end of his physical (in his head unrequited romantic) relationship with Steve.

(But then between Peggy showing up and he and Steve going to the Continent together with the Howlies, Bucky mysteriously seems to perk up!)

By which point Steve, with his strong moral instincts and anti-Fascism, has come to the conclusion that if he's a physically perfect man, and he's still in love with and attracted to Bucky, then there must by definition be nothing wrong with feeling physically attracted to Bucky.

IDK if it makes it better or worse to imagine that they finally confessed to each other before the fall?

Maybe it'd be nice if they saved that for Post-WS, especially since Bucky might be then in even more doubt as to Steve's feelings for him. It's a common choice in fic for a reason!

There are two ways to read the 'right partner' talk Steve has with Peggy.

One is:

Steve's a straight man acting like an incel and attempting to pull pick-up artist tricks on Peggy which don't work, because she's not interested in him, and so doesn't take the bait (we only don't notice he's being a creep because Cevans and HA play it as benign, and because the writers, being themselves douchebags, don't realise what they've written; and probably wouldn't care even if they did.)

Two is: (particularly egregious if you flip the genders and imagine a woman saying this to a man)

Steve going out of his way to make it clear that he doesn't want to date, isn't interested in dating right now, while there's a war on, and finds women terrifying.

And yet as soon as he's fuckable, Peggy pulls a 180 and starts claiming she always liked him as he was, despite the fact that her actions directly disprove this; she didn’t ask him out when she had the chance and the encouragement.

Naturally, her arrogance leads her to the immediate assumption that if Steve is waiting for The One, then she must be the One to whom he was referring.

The fact that his wording either means he’s already found the One and is waiting for them, OR that he hasn’t met them yet, both exclude her from the running (since he’s known her a week) is... immaterial. She never asks if he has his eye on someone, does she? Would Steve being already married stop her?

(You don’t say ‘I don’t want to date because I’m waiting for the One’ to the person who IS the One, or whom you suspect may be the One. This ain’t rocket science!)

And hey, did you notice, that Peggy is just so important and special and perfect that her sudden interest in Steve means that Steve's stated wishes are now irrelevant?

The staggering hubris of waltzing up to him to go ‘hey, by the way, one day... when all this is over... I will allow you to date me.’ 😘😌

Too bad he didn’t ask!

The fact that Steve explicitly told her he isn't interested in dating and didn’t specify he’d be interested in her is invalidated by his new looks and her desire.

Sheesh. These Carter girls sure are rapey as hell.

(Also, in characteristic NOT-A-FEMINIST Peggy Style, the first thing she does upon seeing Big Steve is yank a t shirt out of the hands of a waiting nurse, because Saint Poppins is apparently so good at everything without training or experience that she can do nursing better than an actual nurse, too? (Could be she's also being characteristically territorial, pissing a circle round her chosen prey.) While simultaneously, out of nowhere, affecting a dumb ‘oh I’m so soft-and-feminine’ voice she didn’t have before?? Does that sounds like someone Steve ‘son of a nurse’ Rogers would admire? UGH.)

The irony of all this is ^ you can read Steve as 100% gay and not have to change a single piece of his characterisation or interactions with women at any point.

I've touched on this in other asks, but:

He never asks Peggy out when he has the opportunity; only when he knows it's too late and he won't be expected to follow through (due to him being dead.)

He never makes a move on any of the chorus girls or his female fans (no matter what those creeps M&M claim). Or Private Lorraine. Or Nat. He has to be nagged to make one on Sharon (while Peggy's body's barely had time to cool, and looks fine about never seeing her again lol!) But he goes out of his way to befriend Sam, and waay out of his way to get Bucky back.

Throughout all his films he's consistently assaulted by women, even friends, and never looks happy about it; he also never looks upset when he's rejected or cut off from women love interests, or when he's able to dodge flirting (by, eg. jumping out of a frickin' plane!?)

It's 'his choice', in his own words.

He seems his happiest with women in platonic situations, and only sad about them when it's a question of a shirked duty, a bereavement, or him feeling he's let them down; eg. when Nat dies, when his mother dies, when he's unable to deliver a promised dance to Peggy, etc.

(But it makes people uncomfortable to address this since many of his fans are female.)

But even marrying a woman (albeit the most OOC choice it's physically possible for a Captain America to make, not to mention that it involves abandoning our-Bucky alone in the future). It doesn't preclude Steve from being gay, since lavender marriages were hella common (doubly so for famous gay men).

He could be gay and still in a relationship with Bucky, and married to Peggy. I mean, he's guaranteed a wife who'll spend most of the time away at work, able to use her connections to squash any inconvenient press; and unable to out him or Bucky without ruining her own prestige. Perfect!

Still makes EG Steve a douchebag tho. 😒

*we know they frequented north Brooklyn, because Steve said 'I know this neighborhood!' while the Brooklyn Bridge was in sight behind him; but, they got the street angle wrong, cuz they made it look like the BKB has a street which looks right at it, when in fact the street with that famous view is of the Manhattan Bridge. The places Steve describes being beat up; a parking lot, alleyway, and diner, are also all places you'd go while you're Out, rather than where you live. So IMO Steve and Bucky lived somewhere near DUMBO, but not so far east that their view was of the Manhattan Bridge; either Brooklyn Heights or Downtown. So that puts them right in the heart of Gay Brooklyn (as in, Truman Capote had a house there, because Walt Whitman wrote a famous poem about there; that level of gay), next to the Navy Yard and Sands Street (gay cruising central) and they also frequented gay cruising mecca Coney Island (big burlesque hot spot).

#mcu meta #antipeggy #toAyourQ #hey nonny #steve meta #bucky meta #p*ggy meta #anti st*ggy #endgame steve is a skrull #antiendgame #dat's me #bucky barnes #meta #mcu #yet each man queues the thing he loves

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