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anonymousewrites · 1 year

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There's a Will; There's a Way (Book 4) Chapter One

Dazai Osamu x Fem! Reader

Chapter One: Emergency Government Request

Summary: The Armed Detective Agency is offered a new job, but several members have some misgivings.

Mouse Note: This will be spoilers for BSD Season 4! So be warned! Also, I am aware that I have already posted this fic, but I wanted to repost after Season 4 Part 1 appeared, so I'll be posting all my chapters that cover those episodes again. My other stories will continue as regular, this will just have daily updates to get the Bungou Stray Dogs fic some daylight.

“Really, I’m fine,” said Akira. “You can stop worrying, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) watched as her friend repolished the same glass for a fifth time. “Yeah…Sure.”

“I’m totally fine. I’m just restless since I haven’t had any fun work recently,” continued Akira. “I don’t think about Chu—him at all.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow.

“Okay…maybe from time to time. But it’s no big deal. I’m doing fine,” said Akira.

“So you keep saying, but I still think you’re lying,” insisted (Y/N). Her eyes softened. “I’ve seen the hat. You kept it.”

Akira eyes fell to the ground. “I just…I just need to get back to work. That’s all.” She switched back to her usual attitude. “Speaking of which, I need to prepare for happy hour. Always get good business then.”

(Y/N) sighed. “Fine. But this isn’t over,” she warned.

“Just bring me any interesting work you get,” said Akira.

(Y/N) reluctantly stood up as her phone lit up with a message from Kunikida telling her to come to a meeting. “I will, but please…think about what you need. It’s okay to have feelings.”

Akira just returned to polishing.

(Y/N) walked into the Agency and headed towards the meeting room.

“(Y/N)!” chirped Dazai, hugging her from behind. He pecked her on the cheek. “You’ve arrived!”

(Y/N) smiled and turned around in his arms so she was facing him. “You have a lot of energy,” she teased.

“I’m going out to have fun,” said Dazai.

“We have a meeting,” she reminded him.

“Bo-ring. And you’ll fill me in!” said Dazai.

“If you listen,” said (Y/N).

“I always listen to you.” Dazai looked into her eyes adoringly.

(Y/N) blushed. “I-I’ve got to get to the meeting. Have fun skipping.”

“Will do.”

Dazai leaned in and kissed her. (Y/N) closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment, even though a burdening feeling clenched her heart. Afterwards, Dazai squeezed her hand and began to walk away.

“Dazai,” called (Y/N).

He turned back to her curiously.

“I love you.” She wasn’t sure why, but it felt important to say it then. That same heaviness she felt during the kiss was still there.

Dazai smiled. “I love you, too.” He said it with none of his usual pomp and circumstance. It was totally serious and full of emotions. With those words, he was out the door, reading to avoid another day of work.

(Y/N) walked into the meeting room and nodded to Kunikida in greeting as she sat down and opened the file in front of her. She was glad Kunikida was back. After the little girl died because of Fyodor’s manipulation, he had been held under suspicion of murder until all of the evidence showed he was innocent. It had worried the Agency for a bit, but luckily, it blew over. Additionally, they were concerned about (Y/N) being suspected, but because she was kidnapped, she was acquitted of suspicion.

(Y/N) focused on the file. It was on several murders that occurred in the last week, probably conducted by a group of individuals.

“A murder society?” asked Yosano, the first to speak.

“Yeah. It’s an emergency request from the government,” said Kunikida. “First, look at these photos of the victims.” He attached the photo of a man who had been skinned to the board.

“Oh, god,” murmured (Y/N).

“That’s terrible,” breathed Atsushi.

“He was a young Diet member from Yokohama. He left a session midway only yo be found five minutes later in this state,” explained Kunikida. “As you can see, his skin was removed from the waist up and then placed back on inside out. This skin was sewn together like a business shirt, complete with a tie and cuffs. Based on the throat lacerations and restraint marks, the victim was alive for the flaying…likely screaming his head off.”

“Talk about bad taste,” muttered Yosano.

“That’s horrible,” murmured (Y/N). “To be alive during something like that…”

“The perp has carried out four murders this week,” said Kunikida.

“Four?!” cried Jun’ichiro.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. She could hardly imagine how gory the other deaths must have been.

“The vice-commander of the coast guard had a corrosive poison poured over his head that melted his skins and bones. He died of shock from intense pain,” continued Kunikida. “The secretary of the government’s chief of international public safety had an air compressor hose inserted into his mouth, and the high-pressure air blasted the blood and nerves out of his pores. Finally, a top-level officer in the military police’s special-ability crime unit was injected with a painful south American plant called ‘suicide weed’ and left in a locked room. He scratched at his skin down to the bones and died from cerebral contusion after having bashed his head against the wall.”

Definitely wasn’t picturing that…thought (Y/N).

“I see…so it’s a message from the Decay of the Angel,” said Ranpo.

The corners of (YN)’s mouth twitched into a frown at the word “angel.” After the ordeal with Fyodor, she couldn’t quite face it as she used to. Now, whenever (Y/N) heard it, she could hear him saying it.

“ ‘The Decay of the Angel?’ ” asked Atsushi.

“The ‘Decay of the Angel.’ It refers to the five signs of decline within the devas or beings who reside in the highest realm of existence,” explained Fukuzawa, appearing in the meeting room.

“President,” greeted the Agency members politely.

“Sign one, ‘soiled dress’—clothes that emit an oily filth. Sign two, a ‘wilted flower crown’—the fading a rotting of the wreath on the head. Sign three, ‘malodor’—an evil stench from the body. Sign four, ‘sudor’—sweating under the armpits,” explained Fukuzawa.

The young Diet member, the vice-commander of the coast guard, the secretary of the government’s chief of international public safety, and the office from the military police’s special-ability crime, respectively, thought (Y/N) as each sign was announced.

“So…all these flashy, bizarre crimes allude to that?” asked Jun’ichiro.

“Wait…if there are five signs, then—!” (Y/N) looked up in alarm.

“Right,” said Kunikida.

“The fifth sign—the ‘wretched seat’— hasn’t occurred yet,” said Fukuzawa.

“Then the killer will strike one more time?!” cried Atsushi.

“They will not.” Fukuzawa looked at the detectives seriously. “Why? Because we are going to stop them. We must bind together as one to stop this heinous group’s plans.”

“I don’t think so,” said Ranpo grimly.

“Ranpo…state your reason,” said Fukuzawa.

“My friend’s last words.” Ranpo could recall perfectly the foreboding prediction his friend had made. This was undoubtedly the large mission that would destroy them all. “I’m turning this job down.” Ranpo was deadly serious.

(Y/N) bit her lip. I trust Ranpo’s judgement. He sees what we cannot. But…I want to help people, no matter the cost to myself.

“Ranpo. Did you see the birch bow in my office? It’s a once-in-a-century honor for keepers of the peace,” said Fukuzawa, frowning at Ranpo’s words.

“So we have to take this because some guy gave us a bow?” Ranpo scoffed. “No. That bow…is merely a piece of wood.”

His statement shocked his colleagues.

“To us, praise and rewards are a light drizzle. Even if we were underground thieves with no honor, we must stake our lives to prevent this murder,” declared Fukuzawa.

Ranpo slammed his fists down on the table as he stood. “Fine! Do whatever you want!” he yelled, turning on his heel and leaving the room.

Whatever he thinks is going to happen must be really terrible if he’s lashing out at the president, thought (Y/N). It certainly doesn’t bode well…

“Ranpo!” exclaimed Kunikida.

“Leave him be, Kunikida,” said the silver-haired man. “The Agency will pursue the killer, and Ranpo will investigate the Agency’s potential destruction. Even Ranpo knows a two-pronged approach is best.”

Kunikida nodded. “We all need to start looking into possible targets and suspects in the killing.”

If solving this case efficiently can help the Agency, then I’ll work my hardest. (Y/N) was determined to succeed.

“All right. Call me when you have any information. Bye, Akira.” (Y/N) ended the phone call. Akira was excited to be getting some work. She’s still trying to distract herself…

“It must be nice to have a contact,” said Atsushi, walking alongside her. “Even if she can be kind of scary…” Atsushi sweat-dropped as he recalled the Mukurotoride incident.

(Y/N) chuckled at his reaction before taking out her phone again as it began to ring. “Hello?”

“It’s Ango from the Special Division. I can’t contact Dazai. Do you know where he is?”

“No, I don’t,” said (Y/N), frowning. I hope Dazai hasn’t gotten himself into trouble… She motioned for Atsushi to come closer so he could listen to. This was obviously important.

“Then tell this to everyone at the Agency—We have evidence that someone within the government altered the security details and work schedules of all the murder victims on the days they were killed,” said Ango grimly.

Atsushi and (Y/N)’s eyes widened in alarm.

“The killers are part of the government?” questioned (Y/N), furrowing her brow. This certainly makes things more complicated.

“That…or given the lack of leads despite our best efforts, the Decay of the Angel may be a front for some government group,” said Ango. “Either way, be careful.” He hung up.

Atsushi opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly a voice said, “Hello there!” An older man with glasses and a suit stood in front of them.

“You’re from the Ministry of Justice…” Atsushi recognized him from when Fukuzawa had received the birch bow.

“You two are members of the Agency, yes? You must be tired, working on a Sunday like this,” said the man. “How is the ‘Decay of the Angel’ investigation going?”

Something about his tone and smile put (Y/N) immediately on edge.

“We’re working through some—,” Atsushi started.

(Y/N) cut him off. “No leads so far, but I assure you we’re doing our best.” Best not to let any government official know anything we’re up to.

“Oh, what a shame. Who were you talking to?” asked the official.

“My boyfriend. He’s trying to surprise me with a gift I’d like, but he’s not being very sneaky about find out what I want,” said (Y/N) jokingly. “What are you doing out here in the city? Isn’t it dangerous right now?”

“Oh, I was just over there enjoying my coffee until I saw you.” He gestured to some tables outside a café. “I thought I’d ask about how the Agency was coming along.”

There is no coffee cup on any of the tables…He’s lying. (Y/N) kept a smile on her face but glanced over at Atsushi. She could see he was on edge as well but not hiding it as well as she did.

“What is it?” asked the official.

“He’s just concerned about the case, of course. The stress can get to us. Speaking of which, we should be getting back to work,” said (Y/N), grabbing Atsushi’s arm and steering him away quickly.

“(Y/N), he was lying!” whispered Atsushi urgently. “I smelled no coffee on him.”

“I know, we need to get back to the Agency. I have a bad feeling…” (Y/N) bit her lip and hurried onward. No matter how fast she was, however, she couldn’t escape the sinking feeling in her stomach. And she wouldn’t be able to escape what would happen next.

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marchtothefuckingsea · 2 years

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Hypothermia - Loki

The Loki fic that I've been promising for awhile now :) Took me awhile to get to posting it lmao but I promise I actually have another one or two lined up to post too!

My Masterlist, if you're interested! I have some other marvel works and there will be more Loki content to come :)

Enjoy!

enemies to lovers undertones, hurt/comfort, no usage of y/n although that was really hard for a couple of parts in this lol

x gender neutral reader!

Warnings: Injury, symptoms of hypothermia, blood i think?, brief flashback to canon violence. As much as I would have liked to, this being a longer fic, this is NOT proofread so apologies for any errors! I'll probably get around to it sometime though. Hopefully.

Word count: 3.6k

Summary: Reader gets injured during their solo mission and they desperately struggle to make it back to the safe house. Spoilers (not really haha) They don't. Becoming hypothermic, they huddle up in a cave and hope for the best. Loki comes to the rescue, no matter how much he insists he hates them.

"Fuck." I grunted, clutching my injured arm to my chest as I darted between the dense trees.

As the second best to Nat in terms of stealth, I had been sent on a solo mission to retrieve files from a HYDRA base in, wait for it; the Arctic, of all places. Meaning I was absolutely freezing my ass off at the moment, even though I had come dressed for the occasion.

I swore under my breath again as a bullet whizzed past me. I was aware of the distant sharp pain that accompanied it, but I ignored it, sprinting on. The snow weighed my feet down and made it difficult to run, but that also meant it made it hard for the agents to catch up to me as well, and I used that to my advantage, willing every last bit of energy I had into throwing off my pursuers as I weaved in and out of the foliage.

Their shouts and unconcealed footsteps soon became distant, and not long after I was unable to hear them at all. I slowed my pace and then came to a complete halt, gasping for air and dropping to my knees as the adrenaline faded. It left me exhausted and weak, and in incredible pain. I only now noticed that the bullet had, in fact, grazed my side.

I hissed as I peeled the thermal material of my suit away from it, exposing my side to the freezing temperatures. I shivered. I examined the wound quickly before tugging my thermal down over it again, wincing. It didn't seem to be too bad for now, I could deal with it once I made it to the warmth of a safe house.

My teeth chattered as I tapped on my earpiece, begging the dead piece of equipment to somehow come back to life and allow me to talk to my team. No luck.

I pulled out plan B, a GPS, so that I could punch in the coordinates of the safe house. "Shit." I swore again, it was dead.

Upon finding out my earpiece was dead, it wasn't really a surprise. A lot of HYDRA bases, especially larger ones like this one, had technology that would kill any communication equipment inside besides their own.

What did surprise me, was the fact that it had killed my good old-fashioned GPS. I always carried it on missions as a "just in case" and not once had I had this problem before.

I glanced around for landmarks, anything, I could use to help me determine my location, but the only thing I could tell was the direction. The safe house, I knew, was north from the base I had infiltrated. I knew I had fled in a relatively straight line from the HYDRA base, so I headed north.

I hoped I was right as I tenderly held my broken arm to my chest, gritting my teeth as I felt a stabbing pain around the fracture.

I had stopped shivering long ago, growing too weak to do even that. I curled myself further into a hollow inside of a shallow cave in the cliffside. I drew in a shaky breath; each one filled my lungs with dozens of sharp icy needles.

After trudging through the snow for god knows how long, I had stumbled upon a cave in a cliffside. I knew I had no other choice at this point. I wouldn't make it to the safehouse-if I was even going in the right direction- I would be lucky if I even made it another hundred feet.

I had tucked myself into a little sheltered portion of the cave, and my condition had only gone downhill from there. I was pretty sure I was teetering on the edge of hypothermia at this point, if I hadn't been pushed off the cliff by the cruel arms of the winds already.

I felt myself nodding off again and I struggled to stay awake. My heavy eyelids shut and my breath slowed dramatically as I slumped over onto my side. I took in a little gasp of breath, curling into myself and cradling my arm even though I could no longer feel the pain in it. I had lost the feeling in most of my limbs a while ago.

Where the bullet had grazed my side, the blood was still running out like I had just gotten shot. Had I had a clearer mind, I may have realized that the bullet was obviously tipped in something to stop the blood from clotting around the wound, but in my current fogged state, it only served to confuse me. I had weakly tied a cloth ripped from the bottom of my shirt around it to stop the bleeding, but it had long ago soaked through that and the fabric of my shirt and it was now beginning to pool on the ground beneath me.

My eyes shut completely and the only thing I could hear was the blowing of the wind and a static voice. My eyes snapped open in surprise. I saw the red light of my ear piece on the ground blinking steadily.

Injuries forgotten, I struggled upwards, crying out as I put weight on my broken arm. I gasped in a shuddering breath, crawling over and grasping onto the earpiece, pulling in towards me in a tight fist like my life depended on it.

It did.

I shoved it into my ear as I heard a voice, unidentifiable through the static. "Are you there? Agent?"

"I'm here." I gasped out, falling back onto the floor of the cave. "I'm here. I need.. Medical attention. Hurt." I didn't realize how much it hurt to speak, icy daggers shot down my throat with every breath and even my tongue felt numb at this point. My voice was hoarse.

"Where are you? Are you at the safe house?" They questioned. I realized it was Loki, but I didn't care. "No. I- I couldn't make it." I was interrupted by an agonizing cough. "I don't know where I am. North, I think." It was becoming harder and harder to form words and my speech slowed.

"Of the HYDRA facility?" He asked. "Yes." I answered curtly. I shut the earpiece off as I fell into a fit of coughs. I couldn't hear his other words.

"Send Tony." I gasped out. "My coords. I sent.. I sent them to you."

"Hang in there." He said softly. I thought I heard an uncharacteristic distress in his voice but I was left pondering over it as the static went quiet and the light on it stopped blinking, indicating it was dead. I groaned, shuffling back to my little nook in the cave. I could only hope it had sent them my coordinates before dying completely.

I whined, clutching my arm to my chest as another excruciating pain shot through it, leaving white hot spots of pain in my vision. I blinked hard, trying to clear my vision but my eyes stayed shut.

I relaxed into the snow, feeling slightly warm. My arm dropped away from my other broken one and I barely felt any pain as it dropped limply against my side.

I felt another rush of warmth in me, though I still couldn't feel any of my limbs. In the back of my mind, as my senses to the real world became dull, I realized that I could very well not wake up if I let go now. I didn't have the energy to care. I allowed myself to drift off completely without a fight.

Loki stormed out of the communications room at the tower, barely dodging Thor in the hallway.

"Woah, Loki?" He asked in surprise, stepping in his way.

"Get out of my way," Loki ground out. "Or I will kill you without hesitation."

"Sounds serious." Thor joked as Steve rounded the corner. "What's going on here?"

"They are hurt. Badly." Loki said curtly, making his way to move around Thor. Thor stepped to the side, once again blocking off his escape, until he realized what Loki had just said. "What??" He immediately knew who he was talking about, he wouldn't be so concerned for anyone else.

"Shouldn't you be taking someone else along with you, brother? Letting Stark know? He can go help the-" Thor insisted. Steve looked utterly lost.

"I am better equipped for the cold than any of you fools, and I would not trust their life in your pathetic hands." He growled, teleporting around them and stalking off.

He couldn't lose them.

I woke up, my brain sluggish and my body numb, when I heard footsteps crunching through the snow. I weakly tried to push myself up, fearing one of the HYDRA guards had caught up to me.

I tried to muffle my sob of pain as I accidentally put pressure on my broken arm. The footsteps stopped abruptly before starting again and drawing even closer. I pushed myself further into the rocky nook, praying they wouldn't come into the cave any further. My breath was now coming in shallow gasps as panic overwhelmed me and my vision clouded.

I saw their boots coming towards me and I struggled frantically to right myself, reaching desperately for one of my hidden knives. I could barely even move my broken arm, my dominant one, without an unbearable amount of pain, there was no way I could fight with it.

My body threatened to fall unconscious again as black spots crept into the edges of my vision, causing me to panic even more.

I gave up as they moved closer to me. I squeezed myself further back into the small cave as if that would protect me, drawing my injured arm up to my chest and curling in on myself to protect my middle. I felt a large hand on my shoulder and I almost jumped out of my skin.

"It's me." He reassured me. Loki. "I won't harm you."

At the sound of his voice, I shrank back into the corner even more. I didn't trust him one bit, not with how he acted towards me, and the rest of the team knew that. Why the hell would they send him here for me of all people?

"Darling." His voice was uncharacteristically soft. It calmed me and I hated it.

"Get..Get away from me." I panted out, shoving myself into a sitting position. I whimpered when the bullet wound on my abdomen was jarred. It hurt way more than it should have for just winging me.

I weakly batted his hand away as he reached for me. Undeterred, he placed two fingers on my neck. I involuntarily leaned into the warmth of his hand.

He cursed under his breath.

My head lolled to the side and my eyelids drooped shut. I felt a rush of pain through my abdomen and he abruptly scooped me into his arms, starting off at a brisk pace. I didn't have the energy to fight, I had no choice but to trust him as I drifted in and out of consciousness in his arms.

I woke to a sharp slap on my leg, though I could barely feel it. "Wake up." He said sternly.

"'m so tired." I mumbled.

"I know, darling. I know." He said, his voice was low and velvety. It comforted me. Any other time that would have annoyed me, especially coming from him, but in my probably near-death state I welcomed any form of comfort I could get.

Besides, I hadn't always hated him. In fact, I still didn't, really.

I pressed myself closer to him, appreciating the warmth that emanated from his chest. Something in the back of my mind told me that should've concerned me; being a frost giant, he ran a few degrees cooler than any human. That meant if I found him warm then I was much, much colder.

"Where 're we going?" I asked him, my words slurring together.

"To the safehouse." He replied briskly, though his voice lacked the same cold tone it had to it before, when we had bickered at the tower.

I started to drift off again, my frozen fingers loosening their grip on his jacket. I was fairly aware of Loki's voice, though it sounded far away, speaking urgently to me. I tried to answer but my tongue felt too thick in my mouth, my lips felt sealed together with ice.

"almost there," I could make out.

Not too long after that, his voice disappeared completely.

What felt like only moments later, I was awakened by an agonizing pain shooting through my abdomen. I felt a heavy pressure.

I shot up, gasping as I struggled to push away the hands causing the pain. White covered my vision, and their voice sounded muffled. I shoved myself away from them, catching them off guard, and scrambled back until my back hit the wall, whimpering and clutching my stomach with my uninjured arm.

"It's okay, I won't harm you." His voice sounded vaguely familiar, and then I could make out Loki through my still clouded eye sight. He was holding his hands up to show me he meant no harm.

His gesture, however, did little to reassure me as I pressed myself further into the wall as if it would protect me. He had told me many times just how he would leave me to die on a mission, and I doubted his intent now.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He repeated soothingly, moving to kneel next to me on the floor. "Let me help you."

I shrunk back, hugging my arm arm my chest, as he kneeled next to me, caging me against the wall, my breath came in rapid pants. I did not trust him at all, the God of lies. The trickster.

"Where's..where's Steve? Or Stark?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"They sent me."

"The hell they did." I growled. "Why are you here?"

"I was," He paused. "concerned for your wellbeing." If I wasn't flirting with death at the moment, I would've laughed at that.

I sunk my teeth into my lip and squeezed my eyes shut as another pain shot through my arm. I tasted blood.

When I opened my eyes, he was closer, his face inches from mine. His calculating blue eyes searched mine, as I searched his; I found only concern, worry and guilt.

Guilt?

"Allow me to help you." He repeated. "If only to heal you, then I will leave if that is what you want." He said softly, his eyes never left mine.

My resolve weakened. If I didn't let him help me, I very well wouldn't make it out of this alive. Not by the time the others made it here, if they even did at all. Did they even know where I was at? Had Loki even told anyone? He didn't need a quinjet, he could teleport here easily. No one had to even know he was gone.

I weighed my options, though I didn't have much choice either way. I had trusted him before, hadn't I? What had changed so much between us since then? Why had things changed between us so much? What had I done?

A rush of lightheadedness made the decision for me. "Okay." I mumbled weakly, defeated.

I had to stop myself from flinching away when he reached for me, his hand now emitting a green glow. I shifted nervously as tenderly pressed his palm to my side. I felt a warm tingling sensation before he moved his hand up, lightly brushing his fingertips over my arm.

I sighed in relief as he pulled away, the glow fading from his hand. I shifted my arm, not feeling the stabbing pain and now realizing I could move it freely. The bleeding on my abdomen had stopped completely. The nasty wound was gone and a faded scar had taken its place.

Glancing up to Loki, it looked as though the magic had taken a toll on him, his hair now messier than before and under his eyes had darkened slightly.

"Thank you." I whispered. A small smile graced his features, something I hadn't seen on his face for months. Not since the last time we had been on friendly terms.

"Did I miss anything?" He asked me softly.

I managed a small smile back. "A couple of bruises, nothing major. Thank you, really." My gratitude was sincere.

In this moment, watching the light of the fire flicker across his face warmly and the reflection of it dance in his eyes, I found myself wishing we could go back. I had broken down his icy walls, I believed, talking to him as a normal person. About books, about midguardian tales and customs. As he spoke to me, sometimes fondly and sometimes full of hostility-but never directed towards me-of life on Asgard.

A shiver brought me out of my thoughts and I hugged my arms around myself. He tore his gaze from the fire, casting a worried glance at me. It appeared as though we were both lost in our own thoughts.

He reached for me, tugging me towards the fire when I didn't flinch back from him. He gracefully crossed his legs underneath him, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me in close. I sighed contentedly and rested my head on his shoulder.

"What did I do?" I mumbled suddenly, raising my head. He glanced down at me, his eyes were questioning. "What did I do to make you so..to make you shove me away like that? Did I overstep somewhere?"

He was silent for a moment and I feared I had ruined our current truce, if you will.

I straightened up to shuffle away from him, my limbs still cold and stiff. His arm tightened around me and I took that as a gesture to stay. He sighed when I rested my head back down on his shoulder.

He was quiet for a moment more before he spoke up, his voice hesitant. "I...apologize. I didn't mean to push you away like that. I mean..well I did but," he trailed off. It wasn't like the God of Lies to be at a loss for words. I let him take his time as I relaxed further into his side. He suddenly seemed warmer.

He took a deep breath before continuing. "I didn't want you to get hurt. Everyone- everyone around me gets hurt. But they have never been very important to me, they're all very disposable. But the mere thought of losing you is..unbearable to me."

"Are you saying you care about me, trickster?" The old nickname tumbled out before I could stop it. He chuckled at that, a low rumble to me with my head now against his chest.

"I suppose so. Yes."

"And that's why you pushed me away? So I wouldn't get hurt?" I asked, pulling away and looking up at him. "I can handle myself, you know that."

"I do know that, far too well. Do you remember when, exactly, I started acting hostile towards you?"

It took me a few moments, having to dig deep in my memory for it before I remembered. "That one mission, we were together. I got separated from you, right? And you had to heal me on the quinjet-" I inhaled sharply in realization. "Fuck." I whispered. "Loki I- I'm so sorry-" I began.

"I almost lost you." His voice dropped to a whisper.

"I have no doubt in your abilities." He continued after a shaky breath. "But compared to the others you're so..fragile. You may have powers, but they have limits." His voice was soft once again.

We were both silent for several heartbeats, the only sound was the crackling and occasional popping of the burning logs.

"This may be a lot to ask but..do you think we could go back to before?" I asked quietly.

"You have no idea how much I would love that, darling." He breathed out. His hand reached up to run his fingers through my hair and I leaned into his gentle touch, sighing.

"You're still cold."

He shifted us closer to the fire, now holding me against his chest. I relaxed into him.

"Wait." I murmured, I was beginning to feel drowsy. He hummed, encouraging me to continue. "Are you warmer than usual or am I still hypothermia-ic?" I stumbled out, my words slurring together.

He laughed at that, a genuine laugh. "You noticed." He grinned as I glanced up at him. "Magic." He said simply, moving to get up.

"Where are you going?" I asked tiredly.

"You, my love," He said playfully, rising up to his feet and crossing the room. "are half asleep, and I am not going to allow you to sleep on the bare floor." He pulled the throws off of the sofa, along with most of the pillows.

He walked in front of me, spreading the blankets out on the floor and tossing the pillows down mere feet away from the fireplace. He folded himself down onto the makeshift bed, reaching over to me and pulling me over to him. I protested sleepily.

He pulled me into his embrace, lying us down on the soft blankets. He tugged another pile of blankets over us as I shivered, curling into him.

"You know what?" I mumbled into his chest lazily.

"What's that my love?" The nickname sent shivers down my spine, even in my half-asleep state. "I think I love you." I said quietly.

I was sure if he had even heard me until he pressed a kiss to my forehead and replied softly, "I think I love you too." .

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diamond-coral · 3 years

Text

Bargaining Chip

Hello! This is my first time posting on Tumblr ever:) I pulled this one-shot from a fic I posted on AO3 a few months ago but the plot is irrelavent and I changed it from first person to second as well as some details so it can be read as a stand alone. There’s some plot from the actual story but you really don’t need to know it at all.

There might be a few errors, especially because I changed the entire point of view and converted it to present tense from past tense so sorry:)

Loki manages to get his hands on you and exchanges you and your body for his ticket to independence from the Avengers. Bucky gets to go first.

Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters included: Loki, and a little bit of Tony, Steve, and Thor

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY!!! SMUT (NON-CON TOUCHING, FORCED ORAL SEX (m receiving), KNIFE THREATS, DARK! AVENGERS, BUCKY’S AN ASSHOLE IN THIS, DEGRADATION, BASICALLY FORCED PROSTITUTION) READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

You awake in the passenger seat of your own car with only foggy memories of you and your partner before everything had gone dark. Your mission from the CIA...breaking and entering the motherfucking Avenger’s facility and managing to escape...you were so close. If it weren’t for him. In your haze, you look to see who could possibly have the audacity to be driving your car, and there sits Loki, the God of Mischief, who you had only scene on the news, driving one hand and inspecting something in his other.

“Good evening my lady. Sleep well?” he mocks without taking his eyes off the item in his hand which upon further inspection from you looks to be... a red leash?

What the hell?

“I do hope you like your outfit,” he continues. “I think I assembled quite the get up for you.”

Looking down, you let out a muffled scream that was cut off by a strip of duct tape. Your hands are bound in your lap, but that isn’t what horrifies you. It’s what’s underneath them. You take into account your bare legs, fully on display, with a black dress leaving little to the imagination. The top half is just as horrifying with it’s plunging neckline. Your legs end with a pair of strappy gold heels that ensures any chances of running away to be futile while your upper arms are adorned in golden bracelets accented with emeralds. Whether the emeralds were real or fake, you could care less. You have bigger problems to worry about.

“What the fuck?!”

Is what you try to say, but the gag only makes it come out as a mangled ball of muffled murmurs. Though the chuckle Loki lets out implies he understands your enraged speaking attempt.

“You, my dear, are going to be a bargaining chip. I heard about your little escapade at the Avenger’s facility last night. Impressive, I must say, but my brother and his little hero posse had been looking for you relentlessly after that. They are practically obsessed with catching the women that managed to break into their high security building.”

Loki takes a sharp turn into a parking garage, narrowly missing the wall. You squeal as your precious car runs over the curb.

“I forgot how much I hate mortal transportation devices. But Stark had to build this tower in the middle of New York to feed his ever-growing ego and now I’m the one that has to rely on a car to get me there,” he grumbles while pulling into a parking space. He takes a deep breath once the car is parked. “Now, I’m going to remove that gag out of your mouth, and if you scream, I will peel your skin off of your body in the slowest, most painful way imaginable. Understood?”

You nod frantically and he rips the tape off, extracting a whimper from your now stinging mouth. You open your mouth for him to take the wad of cloth out that was under the duct tape. As he extracts it, you snap your mouth shut in an attempt to bite him, but he’s quick to evade and grabs your jaw harshly.

“What did I say before?” he seethes.

“You said not to scream. I didn’t scream. Now let go of my face.”

Loki roughly throughs your face to the side, letting go, and looks around the surroundings of the car, probably checking for any unwanted onlookers.

“Out of the car. Now,” he orders and you hastily oblige using your bound hands to open the door.

As you shut the door, you catch a glimpse of your own reflection and grimace. You look like a hooker. Aside from the skimpy outfit, your hair was pinned up and intertwined with gold strands. Your makeup is done as well. Sultry eye shadow and dark red lipstick.

“I didn’t know the God of Mischief was a makeup guru,” you jab.

He ignores you and harshly pushes you forward. “Walk.”

“Where’s my partner?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Loki replies. “She has other uses than the one I currently need you for.”

“And what use am I needed for?”

“I already told you. By the gods, you mortals are stupid. You are to be a bargaining chip, (Y/N).”

Your blood runs cold. “How do you know my name?” you ask.

“I know everything about you. Including your peculiar abilities.”

You stop dead in your tracks.

“Now, don’t worry,” he adds. “As amusing to me as it would be, I have no interest in enlightening the Avengers to your secret identity. As far as they will know, I am simply giving them the criminal that broke into their compound.”

“And what’s in it for you?” you ask as he guidesyou into an elevator.

After pushing a button, he goes to fix his dark green tie. “Clever girl now aren’t you?”

“Answer the question.”

“How about-no?” he muses and a soft ding resonates through the elevator.

The doors opened and, for a moment, you forget the predicament your in. Inside was the most beautiful penthouse you had ever seen. The opposite wall was made entirely out of glass allowing a view of the New York City night skyline. Everything little piece of furniture each looks as expensive as your car, but your focus becomes drawn to the minibar. The Avengers were all sitting there, laughing, and most were obviously drunk.

“Here James, try some of this,” Thor booms.

Bucky makes a face. “Why would I drink something from another planet meant for Gods?”

“Jeez Buck it’s the only thing that can get you and I drunk,” Steve slurs and claps Bucky on the shoulder. “It’s your birthday. Live it up a little.”

Bucky hesitates before grabbing the flask Thor offers him and throwing his head back, downing the flask in one go.

Loki seems to have enough of the party scene as he clears his throat to interrupt them.

“Gentlemen-”

Before Loki uttered another word all the Avengers clambered from their seats to grab their weapons, but their intoxicated state just makes it a comical sight. Captain America falls over in an attempt to reach for his shield below the table. Tony Stark’s iron man mask smacks him over the head as he fails to turn in time to catch it on his face. Sam Wilson chokes on his drink and falls backwards off his barstool in shock.

“I come bearing no ill tidings.” Loki spread his arms.

“Then why bother coming at all?” Thor growls, shifting his hammer to his right hand.

“I’ve come to make an offer.”

With that, Loki snatches your wrist and throws you towards him and the other men. You stumbled in you stilettos and let out a yelp as you land on the floor looking up at the 5 present Avengers: Thor, the Winter Soldier, Captain America, Iron Man, and the Falcon. They all look down on you with perplexed looks etched onto their faces.

“You guys have been so caught up and stressed about finding your security breaches that I was generous enough to do some finding myself,” Loki explains.

“And how do we know you didn’t just pluck some prostitute off the street?” Caps eyes rake up and down your body.

Loki scoffs. “Always the skeptic captain. Does this answer your question?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flash-drive.

Tony snatches it from his hands. “Jarvis, what’s on this drive?” he asks, holding the drive up to a scanner in the glasses he’s wearing.

“It appears to be the files you have been collecting the 2 vigilantes you have been tracking and-.”

“Okay thanks J!” Tony interrupts quickly before Jarvis could spill any more information. He proceeds to storm up to your cowering and kneeling form that hadn’t dared move and harshly grabs your jaw.

Jesus, what was with these men and your poor, bruised jaw?

“Why would you possibly need this information?” he asks calmly, but his eyes are feral. He studies you and his brows furrow. Did he manage to piece it all together that you were the alleged vigilante they had been hunting? He lets go of your jaw and throws you back on the floor. “What business do you have looking for them?”

Looking for them? You let out a sigh of relief.

“None of your business,” you spit.

“Anyways,” Loki continues, and the drive suddenly disintegrated in Tony’s hand while reappearing in Loki’s. “I will happily hand over this seemingly important information along with the girl for you to do with her as you please, but…” He pauses. “Only if you stop tracking my current whereabouts.”

“And why would we do that, Loki? You’re dangerous,” Steve notes.

“I was dangerous,” Loki interjects. “I have been a good boy haven’t I? I would like to lead a normal life without you imbeciles tailing my every move. If I slip, Thor here will know within the second if I’m involved with anyone wrong doings, won’t you brother dear?”

Thor grunts at that statement.

“Besides, Stark’s satellite can track any magical energy if I use it. Which I won’t.”

“Fine. Now hand over the drive,” Tony snaps and holds his hand out.

After Loki drops the small gadget into Tony’s hand, he hauls you up and spins you around to face him.

His voice is quiet and low. “Be glad I didn’t tell them about my plans for you friend. It would be a shame if they found out about her abilities...and yours.”

He spins you back around to face the 5 men whose eyes were now raking up and down your body. “Easy on the eyes isn’t she?” Loki mentions, hands falling on your waist making you squirm. “You know, I almost considered keeping her for myself. Her exotic beauty is that of a pleasure maiden on Asgard.” Your struggles are invigorated at his implications. “Enjoy your whore.” And with that, he gives you one final shove before vanishing.

It’s silent for half a minute before one of the men speak up.

“Alright who wants to take her for a spin?” Tony asks, clapping his hands together. “I vote the birthday boy gets first dibs. Huh, Buckaroo?”

You blanch at the idea. Were they really going to go through with what Loki wanted? What happened to the valiant heroes you saw on your screen?

“Wait Tony, you can’t be seriously considering Loki’s suggestion?” Sam Wilson sounds surprised.

Tony shrugs. “Why not, Birdie? It’s either this or high security prison and I don’t think she wants to rot in a cell.”

“She is standing right here and would rather rot in hell than do what Loki had in mind,” you hiss.

“Well it’s a good thing we weren’t asking for her opinion,” Tony says.

“Tony’s right, Sam,” Steve adds slowly. “We bust our asses out there. We deserve something nice.”

“Day after day we save this pathetic world, and no thanks are given. Just everyone saying what we did wrong. We should’ve left the world to fend for itself after they tried shoving those ridiculous accords down our throats,” Thor murmurs

Sam raises both of his hands up in defense. “Fine. Do what you want with her. I’m gonna head out.” And with that he leaves. Your heart sinks, watching the only glimmer of hope, your knight in shining armor, walk out the door. Your self-pity party is cut short by an arm snaking around your waist.

Bucky Barnes, trained assassin, mass murderer, and now current Avenger, puts his face in the crook of your neck and inhales deeply, sending shivers down your spine while you stand frozen like a deer in headlights. “What do you say, doll? Wanna finish what we started the other night?” His hand on your waist slowly drifts down to your ass.

You stomp your heel down on his foot eliciting a groan of pain. “Last time I checked, you were in the dirt, and I was driving away that night after a successful robbery. There’s nothing to finish.”

He moves quickly as he rips your hair out of what’s securing it up, using the opportunity to tangle his hand into the roots and drag you away to a separate room. He wrenches open and throws you in, leaving you to stumble and trip. A searing pain on your forehead signaled that you hit your head.

“How about we use that snarky mouth of yours for something better hmm?” His voice is ice cold with malice as he grips your hair and yanks you up.

You cry out in pain, tears pooling in your eyes.

“Not so tough now, are you?” he sneers down at you. Hearing the sound of a belt unbuckling and pants unzipping, you shut your eyes.

A tear escapes, cascading down your face, but his thumb gently wipes it away.

“Open your eyes, doll,” he coos.

You shake your head and screw them shut even tighter.

“I said...OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES!” he roars and your eyes fly open only to see his member sticking out of his slacks right in front of your face. He’s almost fully hard as precum dribbles out of the tip. “Good girl,” he praises. “Now, since you can’t seem to keep your snarky mouth shut, let’s put it to better use. How bout that?”

You don’t move, and he sighed as you look down to the floor. You hear some shuffling, a small click, and suddenly something cold and sharp is pressing under your chin, tilting your gaze to his steel blue eyes.

“Let’s try this again.” He pushes the knife harder, digging it a little deeper, but not enough to draw blood. A knife. This dirty bastard has a knife. “Suck. My. Cock.”

Pushing all your pride aside, you direct your gaze to the task in front of you. Bucky lets out an approving hum and the knife is removed from your throat. You swallow before opening your mouth and dragging your tongue from his base to the tip before wrapping your lips around him and sucking lightly.

Bucky was no slacker down there, you had to give him that. You ease your mouth down his shaft and his head tilts back.

“Oh fuck that’s it,” he moans. “Take my dick down your throat.” He grunts. His metal hand fists your hair to push your head down, sliding a few more inches into your throat. “Oh-that’s a good whore,” he breathes.

A gag is torn from you and you slap your hands against his thighs to imply you couldn’t take much more. Bucky’s only response is another grunt as he jams the rest of his length down your throat leaving your only intake of oxygen to come from your nose which was now mashed right above the base of his thick cock. As quickly as he pushed you down before, he pulls you back off by your hair, letting you go to wretch, gasping for air and freedom. A strand of saliva still connects from his tip to my lips.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He snags your hair again. “Open wide, slut.”

You do just that and he begins to fuck your throat at his own pace, sliding his entire length down every time. Tears brim at your eyes, not just from the lack of oxygen, but the humiliation of the moment as well. The time passes much too slowly for your liking, minutes dragging on for eternity, before he begins to reach his climax.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” His cock twitches in your mouth.He holds your head with both hands as he releases straight into your mouth, warm thick strands of his release coating the back of your throat. He pulls out with a pop and smirks down at you. “Good little sluts swallow” he orders.

You glare up at him, making a show of not doing anything.

“Well?” he demands and raises a dark brow.

You spit his own climax onto his expensive shoes.

“Why you-!” He raises his hand, getting ready to send a smack to your face.

“Barnes!” A female voice comes from the doorway as the door flies open. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

There stood none other than the Black Widow.

#dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #non-con #bucky x female reader #dark!fic #loki x reader #avengers #idk how to tag this #fanfic #am i doing this tag thing right?#no i'm not #smut #dark!mcu #marvel #dark bucky x reader #dark!marvel

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 3 years

Text

Chemical Reaction Chapter 1

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: No set parings in this one yet

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Mentions of violence but that's canon.

Author’s Note: DO YOU KNOW HOW NERVOUS I AM FOR THIS?!? Even setting this up, I have anxiety building up. I'm ready for my debut into the Marvel fics. I do hope that if you guys enjoy this that you will leave some feedback. Anything helps! I absolutely love Tony and I hope this does him justice.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

Y/N L/N knew that when she was recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D. that there would be moments where things would become chaotic. She knew that there would be moments where she would have to drop whatever it was she was working on to work on something that was being deemed top priority. Her multiple degrees from MIT had proved her to be an asset. Especially when they came across foreign objects that needed to be identified.

Over the last several years while Earth found out just how big the universe was, Y/N was behind the scenes hoping to help by making weapons to help protect the earth with what she was creating. Her projects were always kept under lock and key with the help of Director Nick Fury. He made sure her work was never interrupted and made sure she had everything she needed to create what he asked.

The sound of the lab door sliding open had caught her attention. Her eyes lifted only for a second to see Fury walking in before she looked back down at the computer screen in front of her. The program on the screen helping her to put the missing pieces she needed together.

“I’m expecting a box of my favorite cookies if you’re coming in here while I’m working.” She said, not taking her eyes off the coding. Every few moments she’d adjust the coding to adjust a few things or add coding where needed.

“Already delivered to your house.” Fury said as he walked further into the lab. “Even I know your bite is worse than your bark.”

That caused her to chuckle as her eyes flickering back and forth between him and the screen. Between Y/N and Fury, they had a softer relationship than most agents did with him. Maybe it was that her parents were friends with his family. But Y/N knew that when things meant business, the playful demeanor they had towards each other stopped.

“I’ve got an assignment for you.” He said as he came to a stop just in front of her desk.

“You mean besides this one?” She asked with a raised brow as her fingers typed along a keyboard. The new information she input caused the program to create a visual prototype of the weapon Fury had asked her for.

“For now this one is being put on hold.” Fury’s hands rested on the desk as he watched as Y/N looked up and at him. There was a slight frown on her face that caused Fury to chuckle. “Priorities change, Y/N/N. Including this one. What I need you to work on has been bumped up in priority.”

“This has to do with the mission the Avengers are on, isn’t it?” Y/N knew if she was right, that meant the Avengers had found an unknown source that needed to be identified. Usually, it was Y/N that got called in for those kinds of tasks.

“A Hydra base had a weapon on display, much like the scepter Loki had. But instead of an infinity stone at its center, it is something else. I need you and Stark to identify it.”

Y/N stilled at the name before she rolled her eyes. “We both know Stark and I don’t get along.”

“You two are the only ones that I want working on this.” He said as he stood up straight. “Between his brain and yours, it would save us a lot of time and expedite us destroying it.”

“You mean to study it before figuring out a way to utilize it?” Y/N knew better. She knew how Fury worked. His secret projects Y/N had been a part of from time to time. It was her design that was used for the prototype gun that had been created from pieces of the Destroyer when it came to Earth.

A knowing look formed on Fury’s face and it caused a smirk to pull at Y/N’s lips. He shook his head slightly. “It depends on if it can or cannot be utilized. I want to know why Hydra had it in the first place.”

“And that requires Stark’s help?” She asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“I get it.” He said as he tilted his head slightly. “You two have history. But I need the best minds I’ve got working on this.”

“What about Banner?” She asked, trying to get out of it one last time. “I don’t butt heads with Banner.” She was going to take whatever chances to avoid Tony Stark.

Fury eyed her before he turned to walk away from her. Y/N huffed out air as he had begun to do so. That was his answer to her question. He wasn’t going to let her out of this. Y/N should have known. For as many times as she tried to get out of work, Fury always got what he wanted.

“I want another batch!” She called out as she watched him leave. “Preferably the ones your mom makes.”

“Wheels up in an hour L/N.” Fury said as the sliding doors open. “I expect you to be on it.”

_____

“Alright, let's get this down to the lab.” Tony Stark said as he watched as S.H.I.E.L.D. agents began to pull the weapon off of the quinjet as he walked right behind them.

His hands slid against each other as he walked down the ramp, his eyes lingering on the case. The weapon was securely locked within a case to ensure that nothing would happen to it on its journey. He was eager to get started on figuring out what element was powering it. He had seen first hand the energy that came off of it in action.

“Perfect,” Natasha said as she exited out of the quinjet. “Fury just informed me that your new lab partner is already there and waiting for it's arrival."

Tony stopped in his tracks and turned towards Natasha. “Excuse me? There’s a what in my lab?”

“Fury sent someone over.” Natasha said as she came and stood in front of Tony. “Didn't give me a name though. He believes between the two of you, you’ll be able to identify the element faster and get it ready for transport."

Tony’s eyebrow raised. There was only one time he had opened his lab open to someone. And that had been to Bruce Banner. Why Fury decided it was a good time to send someone new in, Tony would never understand.

“J.A.R.V.I.S. who is currently in the lab?” He asked as he looked nowhere in particular. He wanted to know what he was about to walk into.

Miss Y/N L/N is, sir. The A.I said from overhead. She arrived minutes before you did.

“Shit,” Tony muttered under his breath as he looked back over at Natasha. The woman currently had a smirk pulling at her lips. “This is a joke right?”

Natasha laughed as she shrugged. "I'm only passing along the message."

Natasha knew enough about the relationship between Tony and Y/N. They butted heads when it came to almost anything and everything. She enjoyed watching the way Y/N had gotten under his skin any time they were in a room together. If there was one person that could put Tony in his place, it was Y/N.

Tony mumbled under his breath as he began making his way towards the elevator. He could probably avoid her for a few more hours. But knowing Y/N, she'd have things rearranged by the time he made it down there. It was better to face her now than later. It would definitely be worse later.

"Let Y/N know I'll call for backup when she needs it!" Natasha called out just as the elevator doors were closing.

_____

A frustrated sigh passed Y/N’s lips as she looked around the lab. With as many times as Y/N had been there, it had never ceased to amaze her that Tony would have things completely out of place. That included the perfectly neat station that she had left behind since she was becoming a frequent guest.

Pieces of junk had been carelessly tossed on the workstation, causing the items she had left on there to be scattered about. Stains from god knows what had been smeared on a majority of the files she left behind. No doubt things that Tony only looked at before tossing them aside.

They may have gotten on each other’s nerves, But Y/N had tried helping with some of the tech he was working on. While mostly suggestions, she knew that some of them would have upgraded things in a way that would help Tony. But with his stubbornness and ego, she wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t take any of it into account.

“J.A.R.V.I.S?” She called out as she walked around the workstation. “Does Tony actually need any of this or am I free to dispose of it?”

“Don’t answer that.” Tony said as he walked into the lab. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents close behind him, bringing in the encased weapon. The moment it was placed on a workstation, they left just as quickly as they came. “It is after all my lab and I can place things where I want, and when I want.” He had come to stand a few feet away from Y/N.

Y/N’s eyebrow raised as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes stayed on his before a small smirk slowly pulled at her lips. “J.A.R.V.I.S.?”

Mr. Stark is not intending to use the items he disposed of on your desk. I believe the term he used was ‘a junk table’.

Y/N watched as Tony’s mouth dropped at the A.I.’s words. He had never once had it work against him and yet, Y/N had managed to do so. “You turned him against me.”

“Not against,” She defended. “I just added a few things to ensure that I’d get the right information instead of you sabotaging me.”

“For the millionth time, that was not sabotage. I ensured everything was fair and square.” Tony rolled his eyes. “When did you even have time to hack into things?”

Y/N bit down on her tongue to keep her from speaking her mind. She should have known better. She should have known that he would simply deny it, just as he had plenty of times before. Instead, she let out a deep breath. “The last time I was here.” She said as she uncrossed her arms and began moving towards the case. “If I’m not mistaken, you were otherwise preoccupied with an overly bubbly blonde. Plus it wasn’t like I corrupted the system in any way. I just need someone on my side from time to time.”

Just as she reached the case and went to open it, Tony’s hand reached hers and stopped her from opening it. She turned to face him, her hand still on the latch. There was a slight glare on Tony’s face. Whether it was from her words or the fact she was attempting to open the case, she’d never know.

“You have no idea what this thing is and you want to just open it, like it’s nothing.” He said never taking his eyes off her.

“That’s what the point of this is.” She shook her head. “All the necessary protocols already came into play the moment the agents left.”

“I highly doubt that.” He said, taking a step back.

“Want to ask? Or should I?” Her fingers tapped on the latch as she watched him. It was a challenge.

The simple words enough to show how much they really trusted the other. While Tony had no idea about the rewrite that Y/N had included in his system, they hadn’t always agreed on things. If anything, they always disagreed with each other ninety-nine percent of the time. That one percent was a mix of giving in to what the other wanted or, Y/N getting her way.

It was as Tony let out a sigh that another smirk began to grow on Y/N’s lips. “J.A.R.V.I.S. are-”

Yeah, it was going to be a long week for the both of them.

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ggyutea · 4 years

Text

into the aether // jjk [CHAPTER ONE]

pairing: agent!jungkook x agent!reader

genre: not-so-secret organization au, rivals to lovers au, sci-fi, action, slow burn, mutual pining, future mystery 👀, eventual fluff, eventual smut (probably), teeny bit of future angst

word count: 4.4k

summary: As a rookie member of an organization that deals in investigating and neutralizing paranormal and extraterrestrial threats, you get assigned to your very first case with Jeon Jungkook as your partner, a former classmate you’ve never been too fond of. But what happens when your supposed low-tier rookie case begins to unravel into something more serious than anyone anticipated? And, more importantly, how do you come to terms with your growing feelings for Jungkook?

contents: jungkook being a little shit, y/n is a bisexual disaster, the tension is real honestly, female!namjoon, long haired Kook, mild info-dumping for context

warnings: mild cursing

a/n: behold, my first posted fic! i have absolutely no idea how long this series will be but i’m super excited about it!! i hope anyone who happens to come across this enjoys it :))

previous || masterlist || next

The agency-issued suit is surprisingly comfortable. Form-fitting without being tight, the dress slacks and jacket cling softly to your body as you adjust your badge before entering your new workplace. Taking a deep breath as you push open the double doors of the Aether Headquarters, you are greeted by the sight of many bustling individuals, all dressed in suits identical to the one currently adorning your body. A potent mix of excitement and nerves light up your veins as you take in the sight, the moment almost surreal.

Your heels click across the linoleum floor as you begin to make your way through the massive atrium to the semi-circular elevator. You check and double check your badge for your assignment details, noting in relief when you realize that you haven’t already forgotten them. Floor 7, Division S01. Floor 7, Division S01, you repeat over and over again, a mantra of sorts. Beginning at a brisk pace, you inevitably slow as you take in the sights of the cavernous space. Massive glass windows stretch high towards the ceiling on every wall, letting in beams of early morning sunlight that cast a warm glow over everything they touch. Two large LED screens are affixed on either side of the main elevator across the way, one showcasing a map of the city, the other a map of the country, with all of the paranormal and extraterrestrial hotspots highlighted in bright red pulsing circles. A small cafe sits nestled in a corner to your left, baristas rushing around frantically in the midst of the morning rush. A circular desk occupies the center of the room, currently manned by two individuals as they supervise the row of turnstile doors on either side. Agents stand lined up in front of the doors, some impatiently checking their watches as they wait for the people in front of them to swipe in, others leisurely sipping their coffee.

You’re reminded that in your haste this morning, you forgot to make yourself coffee, so before you join the agents at the doors, you cheerily purchase your own steaming cup of liquid energy. You’re not sure if you really need it, with all of the adrenaline rushing through your system, but you figure it can’t hurt. Sure enough, the warmth of the drink floods your body with a sense of ease, and you can’t help the smile that overtakes your face as you swipe your badge, watching the light on the console turn green as an automated voice says, “Welcome, Agent Y/n.” Continuing your path towards the elevator, you note with glee an approaching directory indicating that the library and research facilities are to your right, with the short-term containment facilities lying to your left. Of course, you have learned about all of this in your four years of training, but learning about the immensity of the resources available in the Aether Headquarters and actually seeing them and experiencing them are two completely different things. You make a mental note to check out the library before the day is over as you enter an elevator car with several other agents.

The electricity in your veins feels nearly tangible as you ascend to your dream. You note with an amused quirk of your lips that your internal energy seems a stark contrast to the yawns and sleepy gazes of the rest of the elevator. The 7th floor arrives in the blink of an eye, and you excuse yourself as you weave past a couple agents to exit the car. After a short navigation of the floor thanks to the clearly labeled and numbered signs, you finally approach the door to your division. Pronounced in bold, simple characters, the division code ‘S01’ stares at you from the door as you regard it, a slight lump forming in your throat as you take one last sip of your coffee. Thoughts fly through your head as you go through your mental checklist. Supervisor = Agent Kim Namjoo. Your hand is on the shiny chrome door handle. Mixed division. You’re turning it slowly. Potential for other recent graduates to be working here. Before you know it, the door is swinging open and-- “Ah!” You’re suddenly met with the startled yelp of a young woman, causing you to flinch as it snaps you out of your reverie.

The woman chuckles as she brings a hand to adjust her glasses, face quickly smoothing into a sweetly dimpled smile as she looks at you. “I am so sorry,” she begins upon seeing your startled expression, “you caught me totally off guard.” She laughs lightly. “I don’t believe we’ve met! You must be Agent Y/n. I’m your supervisor, Agent Kim.” She extends her hand to you as you blush, blurting out an apology before reaching out your own hand. “Sorry we couldn’t have met under more formal circumstances, but it’s really no problem as my office is right here anyway,” she explains, gesturing to a door to her right.

“Nice to meet you, Agent Kim! I’m really very excited to be here,” you let out a soft chuckle as you begin to regain your composure. Agent Kim flashes you another gorgeous smile that puts you immediately at ease.

“I’m so happy to hear that, Agent. If you wouldn’t mind following me into my office?” She begins making her way towards her office door. You quickly oblige, stepping into your supervisor’s spacious office. Agent Kim takes a seat promptly behind her desk, motioning for you to have a seat across from her.

“Hold on just one second.” Your supervisor begins typing away at the keyboard of one of her two computers and you take the brief moment to admire the immaculately trimmed bonsai tree perched next to her. However, your gaze quickly turns back to your supervisor as you can’t help but acknowledge how absolutely gorgeous she is. Her skin has all the warmth of the first golden hues of a sunrise. Brunette hair tied back elegantly, a few strands escape to frame the elegant slope of her face. Her jawline is pronounced without being too sharp, culminating in the graceful point of her chin. You flush slightly at your thoughts, mentally scolding yourself. Great. First day of work and you’re already simping over your boss. It’s not your fault you’ve had such a wonderful first impression of her. Everything about her presence immediately calms your racing heart and soothes any apprehensive thoughts that had crossed your mind on your journey into S01.

“Alright,” Agent Kim removes something from a desk drawer before setting it on the desktop and turning her attention towards you. “First and foremost, welcome to Division S01! Like I said, I’m your supervisor, Agent Kim. This is a mixed division, which I’m sure you’re already aware of as it seems you specifically requested it.”

You nod. In the Aether, there are generally three types of divisions that field agents work in. Each is composed of agents of all levels, from rookies like yourself to seasoned veterans. Some divisions are dedicated entirely to the more peaceful reports from around the city that are generally non-violent and consist of relatively minor disturbances. Nothing too serious, but due to their nature, these divisions see a lot of cases on the daily. In your time at the Academy, you’d interned on a few of these types of cases, one of them involving the containment of an alien squid horde that was interfering with the local fishing economy. Other divisions deal with the more intense, higher-magnitude cases. Often violent, these investigations require collaboration from multiple agents throughout the division as they look into paranormal serial murder, shape-shifting extraterrestrial identity theft, and the like. Divisions like yours, S01, are a hybrid. They get the best of both worlds and are well suited for agents who are capable of handling everything across the board, and, more importantly, for agents who want to take on that kind of responsibility. Since you graduated at such a high class rank at the Academy, you had no problem securing a spot in a mixed division such as this one.

“Now,” your supervisor picks up the item she had previously pulled from her desk. “This is your tablet.” She slides the device over to you. “All of your assignments and case files will be sent to you through this, and you’ll have access to a limited virtual library via our digital databases if you find yourself needing that kind of resource. Of course, you’ll use your agency-issued ID to login and it’ll give you full access!” She beams as you hold the tablet in your hands. “Your first assignment has already been sent to you, it looks like…” she trails off, turning to glance at her computer monitor. Your heart starts picking up again. You are literally holding your very first professional case in your hands!

“Do you know what level it is, or who I’ll be working with?” You can’t help the questions that bubble from your mouth. Agent Kim shakes her head.

“Unfortunately, that information comes from higher up, so until you open the file yourself I have no way of knowing the details of your field assignment,” she says with a shrug. Your stomach twists in anticipation, and you’re tempted to unlock your tablet and read through the entire assignment right then and there.

“Alright,” you say with a tentative smile. Agent Kim returns your expression.

“Now, do you have any questions before I show you to your office?” Her eyebrows lift as she looks at you expectantly. “Don’t be timid, I know I had plenty of questions when I became an official agent, but I have found that the Academy really does a spectacular job preparing agents for the field.”

“I do have a question, actually.” Agent Kim’s face immediately brightens. “Are there any other recent Academy grads other than myself assigned to this division?” You’re already aware that your closest friends from the Academy, Yubin and Jeongin, are stationed in different divisions, but you’re dying to know if anyone you recognize from your class at the Academy are in S01.

“Ah, yes. I figured you’d ask eventually. Agent Jeong Jaehyun has been here for about a week now, and Agent Jeon Jungkook started yesterday morning. They were both listed as having graduated with your class.”

You stiffen as soon as the name ‘Jeon Jungkook’ leaves her mouth. You aren’t very familiar with Jaehyun, but Jungkook… That’s a name you’ll never forget. Top of your class at the Academy, teacher’s pet, fuckboy, irritatingly pretty Jungkook.

“Oh!” you squeeze out through gritted teeth and a tense jaw. “Good to know! Thank you, Agent Kim.”

“Of course,” she replies with her warm smile that almost eases the growing knot in your stomach. “Would you care to see your office now?”

Your office isn’t huge, but it’s certainly functional. A large sleek metal desk occupies the bulk of the room, with an equally sleek office chair to match. You silently hope that it swivels. Apart from the desk and chair, a filing cabinet stands tall in the corner, in addition to a floor lamp. Another lamp sits perched on your desk beside two computer monitors and a telephone. A screen nearly identical to, albeit smaller than, the ones mounted in the atrium sits above your desk, the blue and red graphics of your city adding a touch of color not unwelcome in the otherwise very neutral room. Immediately, you begin considering ways to add your own personal touch to your workspace, inspired by Agent Kim’s bonsai tree.

Agent Kim explains the presence of dual computers, indicating that one is strictly for classified research purposes and details regarding any cases the agency might want to keep more under wraps than others, so to speak. “The screen,” she adds, gesturing to the wall, “can be used for any video conferences, calls, and the like within the Headquarters and nationwide, as well as providing the same information as the screens--I’m sure you noticed them--in the atrium.”

You nod as she continues to talk, all the while setting your bag on your desk and beginning to unpack your few personal belongings, including your diploma from the Academy.

“I suppose that’s about all you need to know about your office for the time being,” Agent Kim says after reinforcing that your agency ID will be your key to accessing your electronics. “Go ahead and start getting yourself settled, Agent Y/n. Agents Kang and Choi should be in the offices directly adjacent to you…” she trails off, seemingly trying to recall if those are the correct agents. “Anyway,” she claps her hands together, “If you have any questions, well, you know where to find me! Let me know if you need anything at all. I mean it.” Agent Kim once again gives you that calming smile. Her smile brings you a type of comfort you can’t quite explain, and you honestly couldn’t be happier with your supervisor so far. She’s warm and inviting, intelligent, beautiful, with an air about her that simply exudes leadership and command.

“Thank you, Agent Kim,” you match her smile.

With an amiable wave, she heads out. Your thoughts very quickly turn back to your assignment, and you scramble to sit at your office chair, which does in fact swivel, much to your delight, agency tablet grasped tightly in your hands. Questions race through your mind at the sight of the black mirrored surface, knowing what lies behind the locked screen. You figure the case will probably be something low-profile, as you are brand-new, but you really hope that it’s something more advanced You did graduate close to the top of your class... which brings your mind back to Jeon Jungkook. He had the honors of graduating first, and you’ll never forget that fact. You wonder what he’s been assigned, if it’s a more advanced case than is typical for rookie agents. You probably don’t want to know, however; it’ll only make you more upset if your assignment is comparatively mundane. At least you can rest in peace knowing that as a newbie, you’ll probably be paired with a more senior officer, and, with all of the agents who work in this division, the odds of running into Jungkook on a case are relatively slim. You hoped that after you graduated you’d never have to cross paths again, but alas, here you are. You sigh and run your fingers through your hair before focusing your attention back on the excitement of being here, your future literally in your hands. The closest you’ve ever been.

Finally unlocking the tablet, you’re greeted by a relatively simple interface that allows you to very easily navigate to your newly received assignment. The small folder icon sits amidst a sea of other completely unassuming icons, the tiny graphic completely unaware about the significance of its appearance to you. You open the file, trying to empty your mind of any expectations, and then… your heart sinks. At the very top of the document, next to your own, who else’s name do you see but Jeon Jungkook. Well, fuck.

You spend the better part of the next hour contemplating whether you should read the file by yourself or get your shit together and go track down Jungkook’s office so you can go over it together. Eventually, you settle for a quick skim, though the words barely stick in your mind as you find yourself somewhat preoccupied with thoughts about your partner. How are you supposed to work with him? You certainly don’t hate him, but you’ve always had your disagreements. And you’ll never forgive him for taking your spot in the class, not to mention breaking your best friend’s heart.

After absorbing as much information as your distracted mind can handle, which consists of a jumbled mass of something about a flower shop and floating objects, your rational professional brain gets the best of you, and you head to your supervisor’s office to inquire about the location of Jungkook’s--Agent Jeon’s--office. You have a job to do, and as much as you’re dreading facing Jungkook, you’ll get the job done, and you’ll get it done well. Just as you always have. And though you can’t stand Jungkook, he’s not useless.

You approach the doorway to Jungkook’s office, finding the door already ajar, before stopping to lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms with your tablet clasped in one hand. Jungkook is currently intently focused on one of his computer screens, face tense in concentration, chewing lightly on his lower lip. Tie hanging loose around his neck, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone, jacket foregone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows with his long slightly wavy hair dangling in his eyes… yep. That’s Jungkook. You clear your throat and give a small knock on the threshold. Jungkook immediately shoots up. “Y/n!” He exclaims, eyebrows lifted, a goofy smile toying on his face. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Sorry,” he clears his throat, “I mean- Agent Y/N,” he says, face growing serious as he emphasizes ‘Agent’. “So,” he folds his hands dramatically on top of his desk. “What can I do for you?” You enter the room at last, mouth pursed in a firm line. “Agent Jeon,” you begin, taking a seat across from him. “It appears as though we have been paired together for our first assignment.”

“Oh, that’s right! I saw that. I already read the whole file. Simple stuff.” His hands are still perched steepled on top of his desk.

You gawk before realizing that of course he had gotten the file first; he’s been here since yesterday, and you figure that there was probably a fair amount of sucking up going on mixed in with, apparently, file reading. “You...already read the whole file? Were you ever going to come find me about it?” It’s about mid-morning at this point, pushing towards noon, and most agents are already well into their work days. You wonder what Jungkook has been up to all day if not coming to find you, but you suppose you can’t complain. Reading Jungkook’s name on your assignment with an hour to process that information before actually seeing him is a far better scenario than him randomly showing up at your office expecting you to work with him.

He shrugs. “I figured you’d come to me first once you found out about it and got settled. I asked her about you and she told me you’d be here today. I’ve been busy, and besides, it’s not like it’s a top priority case.”

How can he be so nonchalant about everything all the time while still managing to kiss nearly everyone’s ass? And what the hell has he been busy with? You smooth your hair back as you take a deep breath, mentally steeling yourself so as not to go off on Jungkook on your first day of work. No doubt, you’re still harboring several grudges from the Academy, but you’re a professional now. A professional. What a way to start your dream job.

“For future reference, if necessary, I would prefer that we go over the file together in detail first. This isn’t the Academy anymore, Agent Jeon. These are real people dealing with real problems and I’d like to be on the same page as much as possible at every given moment. Even if the case isn’t ‘top-priority.’”

Jungkook has been like this for about as long as you’ve known him, and although you are mere acquaintances, albeit rivals of a sort, everyone in your class at the academy was well-aware of Jeon “The Golden Boy” Jungkook’s disposition and ass-kissing tendencies. Top of your class, he always managed the best possible marks while seemingly caring about his work as little as possible. Showing his face at every party, event, club--you name it--available to him, you have no idea how he managed to get along as well as he did and continues to do. You suppose it’s probably due to his incredible charm, and some suspiciously large quantity of natural talent, not to mention his good looks. You may dislike him, but you aren’t blind. Naturally, his success always bugged you, as you constantly worked your ass off. Always trailing behind him, never quite catching up, like a dog chasing its own tail, you graduated second in your class. Years of hard work and careful studying, focusing nearly all of your attention on taking every possible opportunity available to advance your standing, was evidently not enough to best The Golden Boy. You always got the feeling he wasn’t too fond of you either, not that you really care. I guess the universe has a strange way of torturing you by assigning you two to the same division in the Aether.

“Noted.” Jungkook nods.

“What were you so ‘busy’ with anyway?” You can’t help yourself.

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, eyes shifting away from yours. “It doesn’t matter, Agent Y/n. Sorry I didn’t come get you earlier,” he says before clearing his throat, eyes meeting yours once more. You decide to let the matter go. Work awaits.

“Very well, Agent,” you say, eyeing him curiously. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to go over the contents of the file with you so we both know what’s going on and we can go forward from there.” You put every effort of your being into injecting nothing but professionalism into your voice, even managing a small, tight smile.

“Fair enough,” he replies as you scoot forward in your chair and unlock your tablet as Jungkook does the same. Upon closer inspection of the document than earlier, you glean that the report comes from a Mr. Kim Seokjin who apparently owns a flower shop called Worldwide Bouquet downtown. He claims that his bouquets are disassembling themselves overnight which, understandably, is negatively affecting his business. He reports instances of his materials floating out of his reach, flowers being flung about his workspace, and the resulting frustration. Jungkook taps his fingers on the table as you scan the screen, one hand lazily scrolling through his own tablet.

“Sounds like some sort of sprig,” you mutter after perusing the report. Sprigs are one of the more docile paranormal creatures you’ve studied, typically materializing out of the playful spirit of a child. As a result, these spirits are typically very mischievous without malicious intent. Some have telekinetic abilities, some illusory capabilities and the like, but all in all, they are generally fairly easy to take care of and contain until their energy eventually dissipates into the atmosphere. At least, the Academy had taught you as much.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Jungkook offers. “A telekinetic one, most likely. Should be a quick job.”

You nod, slightly disappointed that you weren't going to be dealing with something a bit more exciting than a simple sprig, let alone dealing with it with Jungkook. The Aether probably isn’t too fond of handing off the more sensitive cases to newbies, even if you and Jungkook more than proved yourselves in the Academy. Too bad there isn’t too much about the case to actually discuss. You feel a bit foolish for making such a big deal about Jungkook not coming to you after he originally read the file as you feel your shoulders slump ever so slightly.

“See? Not top-priority,” Jungkook smirks. “You didn’t think they’d really give us something important for our first case, did you?”

“Am I really that obvious?”

“Yep.”

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been hoping for something more, but it’s all important work Agent Jeon.” Besides, if you manage to execute this mission perfectly, considering working with Jungkook proves to be manageable, you’d hope that your next case will be of significantly higher status.

“Of course,” Agent Jeon says, tucking a stray strand of inky hair behind his ear. “The super important case of the floating flowers,” he snorts.

You scoff. “Can’t you take something seriously for once in your goddamn life, Agent Jeon? I will literally never understand how you managed as well as you did in the Academy.” Grabbing your tablet in preparation to leave and shaking your head, you stand up. Jungkook sits unbothered.

“Apparently not,” he retorts, folding his arms across his broad chest.

“Since you seem so blatantly disinterested in this case, I’ll just take care of it myself,” you huff. “Go back to whatever you were so busy with before, Agent.”

“Agent Y/n, we both know you can’t do that.”

He’s right. If you execute the mission by yourself without Agent Jeon, it wouldn’t reflect well on either of you, and you can’t risk compromising your image this early in your career. Especially if it meant you’d be stuck investigating nothing but sprigs for the next ten years.

A long sigh escapes you as you shoot a glare at Jungkook before sitting back down across from him. You force the fakest smile you think you’ve ever conjured.

“We’re going to stop by Mr. Kim’s later today to get the initial visit out of the way, okay Agent?” Your voice is thick with mock sweetness. “3:00, my office. I’ll be calling Mr. Kim and letting him know we’ll be checking in, kay?”

“Sounds great, Agent.” Jungkook returns your phony expression.

You stand up once more, this time with the full intention of actually leaving. “It was a pleasure, as always, Agent Jeon.” You straighten your jacket with one hand before promptly exiting, not bothering to close the door behind you. The last thing you hear is a prolonged, exasperated exhale. That makes two of us, you muse to yourself.

Upon returning to your office, you slump down in your chair, mind spinning with the incredulity of what just happened. You’re not sure at all how you’re going to manage working with Jungkook, especially since he seems so hellbent on being as difficult as possible. This is exactly what you were afraid of. The feeling, however, is probably mutual, so all you need to do is get through this. Hopefully after this you’ll never have to man a case with him again, even if you are still stuck in the same division.

Encouraged by that sentiment, swiveling ever so slightly back and forth in your chair, you manage to boost your mood just enough to finally be able to pick up the phone to call Mr. Kim.

Well, you sigh inwardly. This should be interesting.

149 notes · View notes

kiri-ah · 3 years

Text

File: Sector 5

Part of the Action Figure Collab hosted by @go-shotaro

Pairing: Kim Jungwoo x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned for reader), low key Taeil x Sicheng if you squint

Themes: Dark Matter (TV Show) AU, Elite Dangerous (Video Game) AU, basically space stuff, gunfights, lasers, hackers, set in the future, spaceships, Star Wars is mentioned like twice, Sicheng is a jerk, Mark and Johnny are half-brothers

Warnings: Major character death, gunfights, blood, two swearwords, mentioned burials, mentioned black market

WC: 3.7k

Summary: In a galaxy divided into factions, war is rampant. The ship files that you’re searching for could solve all of your problems - if only you can get into the classified sector of the space station where they’re housed. With Jungwoo on one side and Taeil on the other, nothing can go wrong. Right?

Taglist: @allegxdly , @stayctday , @leelatte , @dundun-baby , @kunrengui

Author Note: Welcome to my first collab fic! This is also my first full-length fic on tumblr which is pretty cool. When I saw the concept for this collab I decided it was perfect for my first foray into working with other creators. In the process I made a lot of new friends and I had a lot of fun. Plus I’m pretty proud of this fic. Please enjoy File: Sector 5!

You walk as quickly as you can while still being discreet. There are a lot of people that you wouldn’t want to notice you here. Jungwoo and Taeil, following behind you, seem to have had the same thought. Taeil has a cap over his projector glasses, and Jungwoo has on a black too-big hoodie that hides his give-away physique. In your earpiece there’s silence, but that doesn’t bother you. Yangyang told you to reach out once you got to the section of the space station you need. You still have a few more obnoxiously crowded spaces to traverse before you arrive, so you focus on draining the urgency from your movements and walking like you belong here. Like you’re not about to break into a classified sector and commit a crime.

You make your way through the bar, the ship parts market, and the casino with minimal issues. You think you see a familiar face across the way in the market, but he turns away a second later and you breathe easy once again. If it was who you thought it was, you wouldn’t be alive anymore. Nakamoto Yuta is famed for his cruelty. You enter Sector 5 and speak quietly into your earpiece.

“Yang, we’re in sector five. Where do we go from here?”

“I’m getting your location still, hold on,” comes Yangyang’s voice into your ear.

“Take a left here, and then head down for a few hallways. This is one of the permanent sectors like ours, so you can use your gun now if need be and not worry about puncturing an outer wall.”

You take the left where he says to and continue down, checking to make sure that Jungwoo and Taeil are still behind you. They are, and so is another figure.

“Get over here,” you hiss, pulling them into a side hallway. The figure doesn’t appear to have seen you and passes by, turning down another hallway. You recognize the face of Xiao Dejun, an infamous criminal like yourself. You try not to think about what would have happened had he spotted you. You wouldn’t be dead, but you would probably wish you were.

“What happened?” asks Yangyang in your ear.

“Security,” you mutter.

“Oh.”

You pull Jungwoo and Taeil out and walk down the hallway until Yangyang tells you to stop by a door. “You guys will need to get through this door without my help,” he says. “Beyond it, I can only get high energy drain levels. Be careful.”

Taeil kneels by the card scanner and pulls out his tools. You and Jungwoo turn around, standing guard in case another member of security comes and you need to shoot them. Taeil carefully prys the backing panel off of the scanner and maneuvers until he can see the wires. He scoffs.

“For a high security organization, their security is terrible,” he mutters. He cuts the casing off of a wire and does something you can’t see with it, and the door slides open. You continue keeping watch as Taeil packs up his high-tech phillip’s head screwdriver and cleans up the casing. When you turn around, you’re speechless.

“We found the source of the energy drain,” Jungwoo says in a low voice. Before you is a room of lasers, the kind you thought only existed in old movies. They cross back and forth across the space like an absurd red spider web and fizzle oddly like Redstone in that old game Chenle likes. Minecraft, was it?

“What kind of black market did they get these on?”

Taeil shrugs and walks into the room. “Looks like we can get in,” he tells you. “The lasers are designed like shark teeth - easy to get in, not so easy to get out.” The analogy doesn’t help you feel any better about the situation, and you clutch at your gun.

“Can you turn them off?” Jungwoo asks Taeil, seemingly as nervous as you are.

“I can, but we don’t need to to get in. Let’s focus on that on our way out.”

You nod and walk in, spotting the pattern like Taeil did. “Maybe their security is just bad,” you say. “This is so easy.” You swing your right leg over the nearest laser and start your way across. You get a finger close to the laser and feel the heat emanating from it. You turn to warn Taeil and Jungwoo of this, only to find that they’re already in the maze themselves. You duck under the next beam of red and feel the heat on the back of your head from the proximity, then step easily over one that reminds you of a tripwire - right at ankle level. You hear Jungwoo and Taeil following behind you, Jungwoo struggling a bit because of his wide shoulders. At some points you have to turn around and help him since he can’t see where his biceps are about to brush one of the heated red lines. At least Sungchan isn’t on your team, he’s even larger than Jungwoo. Chenle and Hendery will have to help him or find another way in. You almost laugh at the thought before deciding that you rather like all of your teammates, actually, and you don’t like to think about them dying by heated laser. Each time you stop to help Jungwoo, Taeil reminds you that you need to hurry. You eventually just tell him to please be quiet, because some people are trying to focus here. He shuts up, thankfully.

When you reach the end of the room, you’re faced with another door. Taeil tampers with the wires and it too slides open. The hallway is paneled with light gray and the floor is tile reminiscent of a hotel lobby. Your guns are poised to fend off an attack as the door opens, but nobody is there. You lower them slowly and Jungwoo steps out into the hallway. There are footsteps fading away down to your right, but nobody is watching for you here. You look for the source of the footsteps and spot who you’re pretty sure are the team Johnny and Mark, orphan half-brothers notorious for their sudden team changes depending on the paycheck. They’re for sale to the highest bidder, and they don’t care who that is. Your guess is confirmed when the shorter man laughs - you’ve worked with Mark before, and that laugh is both contagious and unique.

When you refocus, Yangyang is back in your ear and instructing you to go the opposite way that the pair is walking. He says that the door at the end of this hallway is the one you want. Your shoes shuffle against the tile as you try to go quietly, with Jungwoo in front of you and Taeil nervously watching your backs. He isn’t as confident with a gun as you or Jungwoo, he prefers to work behind the scenes. The nature of this mission required a tech whiz on site, though, and he came reluctantly. He knows how important it is to steal the USB drive with ship plans on it. The newest fighter models will make or break the war for your faction, and you have reason to believe that those ships also have teleportation devices in the plans. Not just lightspeed travel, but all-out teleportation. You can only imagine that sort of power on your own ship, the Phoenix.

You walk all the way down the hallway and find the door that Yangyang has pointed out to you. Taeil once again gets down to open the wire panel and gasps in delight.

“Finally a good security system! Give me a moment.” His face disappears behind the stand housing the card reader and he hums as he fiddles with whatever has made him so happy. Even laying at an awkward angle, his voice is beautiful. You sometimes wonder why he became a technician for a faction like yours when he could be a singer for one of the more powerful factions that aren’t always at war. When confronted with this question, he would smile a little and tell whoever was asking that his one true love was testing security systems, no matter how much his voice delighted other people. He said with a dry laugh once that the selfishness of that reason made him perfect for the job. Part of you doubted that story, but everyone working for your faction had baggage. You didn’t need to pry into his.

Eventually there comes a pleased “aha!” from behind you, and Taeil reemerges. His face has a smudge on it that you wipe away with your thumb.

“Have fun?”

You ask the question sarcastically, but Taeil nods happily. “That’s what I like to do. The other systems were easier, I think this room must be important.”

“That’s what I said,” grumbles Yagyang in your ear.

The door slips open with some prodding and you walk into a lab with pristine white surfaces and surfaces that look as though they’ve never been used. In the middle is a silver table covered in instruments of some kind, although you don’t know what they would be used for. The walls are lined with diagnostic panels, and one is a window into a secret hangar you weren’t aware of. Inside is a ship that looks a lot like the X-Wings of the Star Wars franchise. The movies are still iconic today despite how obsolete they are, and everyone knows that the X-Wings were never recreated due to a problem with their size in relation to the way they were meant to work. It appears that whoever made this ship has been hiding their discovery.

“Y/N, focus,” Jungwoo whispers. You nod and turn away from the hangar, albeit reluctantly.

You look at the remaining two walls, both of which are shorter and lined with counters. Taeil is looking at one, and you walk over to the other. You find a monitor completely shut down and follow the cords down to discover that it isn’t plugged in. That’s a little strange. You look at the computer tower and find a USB drive, labeled “Schematics.” That’s even more strange. Why would they leave something so valuable lying around? Hiding in plain sight, perhaps? You plug the monitor in and turn it and the tower on, opening the USB files. You’re low on time, you know, but you have to make sure this is the right drive.

Once the files are loaded, you gasp. “You guys, look at this.” Jungwoo and Taeil stand and look over your shoulders as you scroll through page after page of exact instructions and diagrams for the X-Wing.

“They even stole the name from Star Wars,” Jungwoo scoffs. Taeil laughs lightly.

“These are the right files, we should get out of here.”

“Agreed,” you say. You pocket the USB drive and unplug the monitor again, making sure to leave minimal traces of your passing through. “Let’s go.”

Yangyang repeats the directions out of Sector 5, and you walk quickly. You make it to the laser room without incident and go back through the doorway. “Taeil,” you ask, “can we get out of here faster if you turn off the lasers, or if we just walk through like we did on the way on?”

“Definitely turning them off,” he assures you. “It’s too time consuming to worry about things like this when we need to be worrying about the USB being reported missing.” He settles down by a panel near the start of the lasers and peels off the cover where it looks like maintenance might be done. You only know this because he tells you happily that there might be an off switch.

“Aha! Found it!” he singsongs after a moment. The lasers go off a second later and you’re about to celebrate when a siren screeches from the ceiling.

“All units to Hall Sixteen!” A voice yells over an intercom that you hadn’t noticed. “Lasers have been disabled!”

“Shit,” Jungwoo and Taeil say in unison.

“Let’s go!” you yell. There’s no point in being quiet now. You hear the clomping of boots down the hall and yelling from both ends of the laser room. Hall Sixteen.

You run out towards the exit and find yourself facing Xiao Dejun and another man you don’t know. They both have guns and are shooting the moment you get within range. You shoot back, missing Dejun by inches.

“Sicheng?” cries Taeil from beside you. He lowers his gun slightly. “I thought you were dead!” He runs towards the man, completely ignoring the battle around him. Dejun shoots at him but misses. Jungwoo hits him in return, a nonlethal hit to the arm. It’s enough to make him take pause though, and long enough for you to see with crystal clarity as the other man - Sicheng - raises his gun and shoots Taeil in the chest. Taeil doesn’t even have his gun up, and the shot tears right through his body. He collapses into the fall, blood spouting from the wound. It looks like Sicheng hit his heart.

Someone is screaming, and you realize it’s you. You feel your nose start to burn and your eyes brim suddenly with tears. Not Taeil! you want to scream. Taeil can’t be dead! Your body reacts faster than your brain, and you shoot Sicheng in the gut as he stares at Taeil’s body, looking almost shocked. Then you rush forward and kick the wound, making sure it hurts.

“You asshole!” you cry. “You killed Taeil!” You dodge another bullet from Dejun (it hits Sicheng in the upper stomach, and you have just enough brain space left to be smug) and spot Johnny and Mark behind Jungwoo. You scream and point, not even having words. Thankfully Jungwoo understands and spins to meet them. You shoot at Dejun, wasting bullets. One hits his left shoulder, and another hits a rib. You hear it crack. He writhes out of the way of the rest. You kick his gun hand to disarm him and knee him in the balls, a simple solution to his frustrating ability to avoid bullets. Having properly taken care of him, you turn to face Johnny and Mark.

They have Jungwoo cornered, and he’s desperately dancing out of the way of more bullets. He already has red spreading across his right side. It looks like just a graze, but it could have easily been far worse. You pick up Dejun’s gun and use it to shoot the back of Johnny’s thigh. He crumbles to the floor, blood already gushing angrily out of the wound. Mark turns to him, worried, and somewhere in the back of your mind you realize that’s sort of sweet before you shoot Mark too. He doesn’t deserve to die any more than Taeil did, and you liked working with him, but he’s the enemy right now. He needs to go down. You take aim and shoot him in the side, which is the best place you can hit at this angle. He looks almost surprised at the intrusion. You turn away. Jungwoo runs up behind you.

“Taeil?” you ask, looking down at his body. “Are you in there?” You reach down to feel his pulse, except there isn’t one. His neck is already cooling where he lays, a surprised look still painted across his features.

“Y/N, we have to go,” Jungwoo says.

“We have to bury him!” you screech. You didn’t even know your voice could sound like this. You suppose you’ve never lost someone as important as Taeil before, though.

“We’ll come back for him as soon as we get the USB back to home base,” Jungwoo mutters. “Come on.” He tugs on your arm, and you follow him, letting the tears flow. Jonny shoots one last time at you, but misses. Of everyone who could have died, it had to be Taeil. Precious Taeil with his lovely voice and sweet temperament, the person everyone went to if they needed someone to chill with. He would never again hear you complain about uncertain futures or how you missed your home planet. He would never again hug you or make you smile or gift your ears with his sweet tunes.

“We’ll come back,” you repeat, nose stuffing up. “We’ll come back.”

You leave Sector 5, only meeting one more person. Jungwoo shoots whoever it is before you even register their presence. Thank goodness that one of you has their head still on right. Getting back inconspicuously is a little harder with bloodstains on Jungwoo’s side, but you somehow manage to avoid everyone you don’t want to see. You sneak in the back way to your building and get up to Doyoung’s office. He’s the leader of your little group, so he’s the one you take the info to.

When you knock, he invites you in, and you enter the room. You’re never quite sure if he’ll be happy to see you, so you walk in with some trepidation. Thankfully he has one of his beautiful smiles on and welcomes you in.

“What did you get?” he asks.

“A USB Drive, it has files for new ships,” you tell him. “ Exactly what we were looking for.”

“Where are Jung-”

Doyoung gets cut off by a voice coming through the radio on his desk. “Sir! Doyoung, sir?”

Doyoung holds up a finger to you and presses the talk button. “Yes Yangyang?”

“Is Y/N with you yet, sir?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N,” Yangyang says, “he doesn’t know yet what happened.” Doyoung looks at you, eyes questioning.

“Okay Yang,” you say. “I’ll- I’ll tell him.”

“Okay. That’s all, sir.”

Doyoung looks at you across the desk and narrows his eyes. “What happened?”

“We got in without incident,” you say. “There was a laser maze, but we got through okay. We didn't get caught on the way in and found a lab. That’s where we found the drive. I made sure these were the right files, and then we left. Taeil-” You cut yourself off, tears threatening again.

“Taeil turned off the lasers so we could get out, but it activated some sort of security system. Some men came to kill us and Taeil recognized one. I think his name was ‘Sicheng.’ Taeil-” You take another deep breath. “He ran toward the man, gun down, like he thought the man wouldn’t hurt him. But Sicheng… He killed Taeil. Shot him in the heart.”

The tears are flowing freely down your cheeks now, and you make no move to get rid of them. Doyoung looks shaken for the first time since you’ve known him, and he stands up. He walks around the desk to hug you, mindless of the blood on your clothes.

“We’ll give him the hero’s burial he deserves,” he murmurs. “In the meantime, you should go and put the drive with our other ship plans.

You nod in the affirmative and leave his office. The file storage room is just down the hall. Your surroundings are a bit blurry from the tears in your eyes, but you make it fine. Yangyang is already there, and he pats you on the back as you plug the USB drive into its designated spot. It has a blood spot on the label and you sort of smile at the irony. You won, but at what cost?

A moment later the entire course lights up. “The Red Team wins!” proclaims a voice from the speakers. You feel the character you were playing melt off as your laser tag gun powers off. The dryness in your throat and the tears on your face fade away with the persona you became for the game. You high-five Yangyang and run to get Taeil from where he lays on the other side of the course, still playing dead. You run into Johnny on the way. “Good game,” he says, bumping your fist. “Hitting my thigh patch was a fantastic idea! You’re a really good shot.”

“Thank you. Your team owes us pizza,” you remind him smugly.

“I know.” He throws you a playful glare on the way past. “We’re going to the fifth floor dorms once everyone’s rounded up. I think Lucas and Jeno tied up Sungchan, Hendery, and Chenle, so I’m going to get them.”

“Sounds good. We’re gonna go get Taeil, Sicheng, and Xiaojun.”

“Okay. Meet you at the entrance!”

He walks off and Yangyang follows you to Sector 5.

“You did an amazing job acting!” he says. “It really helped me get into my role.”

“I thought I would actually cry when Taeil fake died,” you tell him. “He actually looked dead.”

“Well I couldn’t see, obviously, but after you guys left he just sat and hummed. It was hilarious. In one channel, you’re screaming your revenge and sobbing, and in the other, Taeil is humming Baekhyun-sunbaemin.”

Taeil meets you at the beginning of the laser hall. “That was so much fun,” he enthuses.

“Yeah it was,” you agree. “You did a great job with the puzzles!” You’re referring to the puzzles that kept Sector 5 locked. Supposedly they were hard enough to keep intruders out, but Taeil had gotten in pretty easily.

He smiles. “Thank you. You did a great job kneeing Xiaojun in the nuts, he was out for a solid minute.”

“ I didn’t hurt him too much, did I?”

“Nah, he’ll recover. He might want to punch you or something though, I don’t think he was acting with that part.”

“Oh.”

You walk back to the entrance with everyone in the group and do a quick headcount. Twenty-three men. Okay, you’re good to go.

You pile into multiple vans out front where their managers sit, bored. They congratulate the winning team and drive you to the dorms, where you all squeeze into the 5th floor apartment and Johnny orders pizza for everyone. You’re very glad that you don’t have to pay for all of the food for twenty-four people.

“We should do that again some time!” Mark suggests as you’re eating. There’s a resounding cry of agreement as everyone lifts their pizza slices to the idea.

You’re totally going to do that again.

End.

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dustofbrokenheart · 4 years

Text

The Lost Boys: Exhale

Dwayne x Reader

Word Count: 3,384

Summary: My attempt at a sad, spooky fic featuring Dwayne, key word being attempt. I hope I was able to do him justice. Partially inspired by Stephen King’s writings.

Ocean waves lapped at the sandy shore, coaxing you to try and open your eyes. Despite knowing you needed to get up, you struggled to keep your lids from fluttering closed again. They felt heavy, like they were caked with cement.

You cleared your throat and tried again.

When you finally managed it, you propped yourself up and took in your surroundings. The moon was full and luminous, sitting high in the sky. A few bits of shadowy cloud drifted by in tangled clusters.

Obviously, it was late into the night but you had no clue what the actual time was which made you nervous.

How long had you been passed out here?

There wasn’t anyone around you at the moment, the next closest bonfire was a small spec in the distance, but that didn’t mean it had been that you had been alone the whole time.

You checked yourself and didn’t feel any injuries, nor were your clothes ripped, so you breathed easier knowing that you likely had not been assaulted. However, you did discover that you were missing our wallet. You cursed and got up on shaky legs, brushing the sand off of you.

So, it was nighttime, you weren’t sure how you got the beach, and your wallet was missing… great.

Crossing your arms, you walked towards the sounds and lights that beckoned to you from a ways down from the part of the beach you found yourself at. As you got closer you saw a set of stairs that led up to a bunch of shops and rides.

The Santa Carla Boardwalk sign was lit up nice and bright. Everything on the boardwalk, shop and ride alike, was decked out in spooky-themed décor.

You spied a large banner that read, “Halloween Monster Bash / OPEN LATE / Sat. Oct. 30th” and a lightbulb went off in your head.

That explained how you probably ended up passed out on the beach—you probably partied too hard for the bash and wandered off after you had had too much to drink. Not a bright move on your part, but plausible.

You promised to try and be on your best behavior for the foreseeable future. Given that it was a Saturday night, and a Halloween promotion at that, the boardwalk was teeming with people who kept bumping into you. Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if you had some bruises tomorrow.

You ended up by the carrousel, which had a much calmer surrounding crowd compared to the other areas, and sat down on a metal bench, watching the lights on the ride as it made its slow revolutions.

Suddenly, a group of long-haired boys muscled their way onto the carousel. One in particular caught your attention and you couldn’t take your eyes off of his leather jacket. A big, yellow cat with bared fangs and claws was stitched on the side of it.

The cat, and by extension the boy wearing it, was rugged, yet sleek, dangerous, yet beautiful.

He must have sensed your focus on him because his head snapped in your direction, his soulful eyes making your throat itch and close up. With no other reaction besides the eye contact, he left his group, gliding to the edge of the moving ride and smoothly stepped off.

He sat quietly next to you on the other side of the bench, neither of you willing to speak up. It turned into a battle of wills to see who would break first. After an extended period of silence, he gave in and accepted his defeat with a snort.

“What’s your name?”

Nervous, your hand crept to your neck and his intense stare followed the movement. “Y/N,” you answered. “Who are you?”

“I’m Dwayne.”

“I like your jacket, Dwayne. The stich work is stellar.”

His lips curled upwards into a slow, easy smile. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

You opened your mouth and froze when you suddenly remembered. “I’m meeting a friend. His motorcycle broke down and I told him I would give him a lift home.”

“Hmm. So where is he?”

“I’m not sure. I-I was on the beach for a while,” you admitted more than a little embarrassed. “He probably thinks I’ve forgotten about him—I hope he hasn’t left yet.”

“Let’s take a walk. I’m sure we can find him together.” He stood up and offered his hand to you.

You were conflicted. On one hand, you had just promised yourself to make smarter decisions; on the other, there was something about this boy that drew you in. He gave you another small smile that sealed the deal.

You placed your hand in his and he led you around the boardwalk, the picture of a perfect gentleman. If gentlemen wandered around in public with their toned chests and abdomens exposed.

Dwayne and you kept your eyes peeled for your friend, but he also persuaded you to stop at a few booths along the way and brought you some food to try. You took a bite of the soft pretzel he handed you. You chewed thoughtfully before giving your review.

“It’s okay. The flavors aren’t out of this world though.”

“Not possible,” he said stealing the pretzel back. “This is the best snack this place has to offer.”

He pressed the back of his hand to your forehead. “You’re not feverish, so I guess that rules out being sick. But you do feel chilled.”

Dwayne stared you down, his eyes looked like they were searching for something. You weren’t sure if he found what he was looking for. The two of you slowed down and you leaned against a wooden rail near the entrance to the boardwalk. As much as you wished your friend would turn up or that you could continue walking with Dwayne, you recognized that it was incredibly late and decided to call it a night.

He also seemed reluctant to let you go. “Will you be back tomorrow?” he murmured. “You can keep me company for Halloween.”

You nodded enthusiastically, glad that he had enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed his. The two of you made plans to meet back at the carousel again the following night. Halloween night. He stroked your wrist and bided you good-night.

You turned on your heel, feeling the energy within you pulsing as you walked away.

_______________

The next night, you found yourself sitting on the same metal bench near the carousel. This time you felt more grounded and much less flustered. You jokingly thought to yourself that you must be channeling strength from Halloween.

Dwayne joined you on the bench a while later, this time coming without his friends entirely.

“Hi,” you said lamely when he looked at you. “Would you rather sit or walk?”

He chose to walk and you were eager to see where he would take you this time. He shouldered his way through the throngs of people and you followed closely behind, gripping his jacket tightly. The crowds thinned out significantly as you walked down to the beach, the noise further drowned out by the ocean.

Dry sand crunched under your shoes as he moved further away from public view. Eventually, Dwayne came to a stop by a low burning fire which he stoked back to life.

You looked around in surprise. “Hey, this is where I was last night. What a crazy coincidence!”

His dark eyes peered at you from where he sat opposite of you on the other side of the bonfire. But he didn’t comment. Instead, he asked you questions.

“Did you ever get ahold of your friend?”

“No,” you admitted, feeling uncomfortable. “He probably hates me right now. Something was wrong with the bike engine, which is why he needed the ride.”

“That’s cool that he rides.”

“His bike is pretty cool. The body is dark red, and he has wheel covers on it, plus there’s an antenna on the back end.”

Again, he didn’t say anything. He just stared. The mood turned uncomfortable once more, so you tried changing topics to bring back the fun you had the previous night.

“I’m actually passing thru Santa Carla on my way to L. A. More specifically, Englewood. To pursue my dream,” you revealed, splaying your fingers in a jazz hand fashion. That seemed to perk his interest and his lips twitched slightly.

You drew up your legs and rested your chin on the tops of your knees. A happy tingle started in your chest and ran down the rest of your body as you remembered back to another time in your life. Back when you were a small child and made a friend.

You told Dwayne the story of how your grandmother used to be involved with one of the local food pantry groups in your home city. And how you often used to tag along with her when she volunteered because your parents worked a lot. One day you were sitting under the tables and bored out of your mind, you started to doodle on the filed floor. You were not expecting another kid to join you and you jumped when they introduced themselves.

You guys were around the same age and started to seek each other out whenever you went with your grandma while she volunteered. Soon, you were even hanging out when you weren’t at the food pantry.

“People used to freak out when they saw us together in public. It was so stupid,” you ranted. “It wasn’t their fault they were on the streets. Most homeless are in that position for reasons beyond their control. I never judged my friend for doing what they had to do to survive—”

Next thing you knew, you were knocked backwards onto the ground, your head taking a particularly hard hit.

In a miraculously fast move, Dwayne had launched himself across the fire to tackle you. It happened so fast, you hadn’t been able to track him. He moved like a menacing shape, striking with the accuracy and speed of a viper.

Your body locked up from where you were pinned and you gasped for air.

Dwayne crouched above you, his knees dug into your thighs to keep your legs spread apart and his claws gripped into your wrists like a vice. He had taken you by surprise and made sure you were completely immobile and unable to fight back. But that wasn’t even the most terrifying part.

The once smooth planes of his face had changed into raised, sharp angles along his brow and cheeks. His hair hung down over you, like a black curtain, so you had no choice but to look at him. Light from the nearby fire casted shadows where it filtered through the strands of hair, making him appear even more menacing.

He leaned down and clicked his fangs right in your face.

Your heart, which had been hammering like a freight train, stopped beating entirely. The jarring stillness within you made you think that you were having a heart attack.

“Quit playing games, Y/N,” he said darkly, his lip curled up in a snarl.

You were so frightened that you couldn’t respond even when he shook you.

“You’ve been toying with me for two nights now, just give it up. We both know you are not what you claim to be.”

You tried to articulate your shock but you couldn’t must a single sound. He growled gutturally and time slowed down. Was this how you were going to die?

A blinding pain ripped through your head, robbing you of all your senses as everything turned white.

_______________

You hummed and bopped your head to the song that was playing on the radio in your aging car. The sun had set some time ago, so you read the green road sign with help from your headlights.

Santa Carla, ten miles.

That should be a good place to spend the night to spend the night. According to the map you were consulting, Santa Carla seemed like a decently sized city that should have your choice of motels to pick from.

You entered city limits and as you turned a corner you noticed a motorcycle parked on the shoulder of the road. A boy with dark hair sat crouched next to it. Debating with yourself, you ended up slowing down and rolling your window.

“Hi,” you called from the driver’s seat. “Do you need any help?”

He turned and you instantly saw how attractive he was. He stood, wiping his hands on a rag that was tucked into his pocket.

“Something’s wrong with the engine. I don’t want to drive it, in case it gets worse.”

No stranger to car troubles, you felt empathetic.

“Get in. I can take you home, or to a mechanic, if there’s a garage still open.”

He accepted the offer and settled into the passenger’s side. You apologized for not having room to bring the bike with and he reassured you that his friends would take care of it. He asked you to take him home, but first he directed you towards a place called the boardwalk so he could buy you dinner as a thank-you.

Your empty stomach couldn’t refuse food.

When you got out of the car you noticed his jacket for the first time. “Stellar stitching,” you complimented.

He ordered tacos to-go from one of the food stands. “Come on, I know a better spot on the beach where we can eat in peace.”

The spot was isolated, which made you pause with doubt, but the food smelled delicious and Dwayne had been nothing but nice, so you ignored the little warning bell.

Having good food after being a car for most of the day was satisfying and you moaned when you took the first bite of taco. To fill in the silence you explained to him that you were moving down to L.A.

“Just passing through?” he questioned.

“Just passing through.”

You told him about the job offer that had convinced you to leave home and how excited you were to work with the homeless women youth there. “Most of them are in that position for reasons beyond their control. I never judge them for doing what they have to do to survive.”

Dwayne looked at you with surprise. “You mean that?” He sounded almost conflicted.

You assured him that you most certainly did.

The next hour or so passed quickly, you chatting away with Dwayne jumping in here and there. Despite not being talkative, he did a good job putting you at ease even though you barely knew one another. When you yawned while in the middle of a story and realized you needed to sleep.

You told Dwayne it was time to get him home so you could sort out your motel situation. He turned away from you and grew even more quiet. He didn’t move nor make a single sound which worried you.

“Dwayne?”

Then he whispered, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

He turned around and his face looked monstrous with his protruding forehead and blazing eyes that swirled with red and yellow. You covered your mouth.

He flew at you, pinning you into the sand. You fought your best to dislodge him, screaming shrilly, but it would have made no difference had you not fought at all. You were no match for his inhuman strength.

He wrenched your chin back, his hands clawing into your face to expose your neck. By that point you had defensive wounds all over and one of your forearms had brittlely snapped.

Dwayne reared back, his fangs on full display. The last thing you saw as the beautiful boy with the cool jacket tore into your throat was the wide expanse of black sky dotted with twinkling stars overhead.

_______________

You came back to the present with a terrible moan rattling from your lips. You were still supine on your back, but Dwayne was no longer on top of you. He sat a few feet away with his face still in its vampiric state, somberness radiating from him.

Numbly, you reached for your neck and felt wet, mangled flesh under your fingers. And you knew that if you looked down you would see your blood-soaked shirt and your crippled arm. You dragged yourself into an upright position which was a shaky process as one of your arms did not match the other.

“You did this to me,” you whispered. Dwayne nodded once.

“What—” your voice cracked so you tried again. “What am I?”

“Something was different about you from the start. You didn’t have a pulse, your skin was cold,” he said matter of factly. “But I wasn’t sure exactly until you started talking about your job.”

“What am I” you said more strongly.

“We met for the first time in February…”

“Am I like you?” you asked.

He shook is his slowly denial. You tiled your head upwards and took in the sky, moon, and stars. There was only one other option, the option that was the hardest to admit out loud.

“I’m dead, then.”

“You’re the only person I’ve killed that’s ever come back,” he said unsurely.

Now that you remembered everything, and your ghostly status was brought to light, other things started making sense too. How your sense of taste was dulled at the boardwalk and you weren’t sure where you slept last night, if you slept at all.

It seemed that your earlier joke about drawing strength from All Hallows Eve was too far off from the truth.

“You’re the friend I was looking for. Was your bike even really broken back then?” Trails of thick blood leaked from your open wound.

He couldn’t bring himself to meet your gaze which was all the answer you needed. “It’s a con I use to lure in meals sometimes,” he finally sighed.

“I never made it to L.A. either… Oh, Dwayne. There was so much I wanted to do.”

You started choking up and he inched forward awkwardly, which you allowed.

“It won’t change things, but it wasn’t personal. I needed to feed and you were the first one I found.”

His candid confession unleashed your tears (looks like ghosts were still able to cry) and the moaning returned. He eased you into his lap and hugged you. His hands rubbed up and down your back in an attempt to soothe you.

You accepted that you were dead and you didn’t hate Dwayne for what he had done. That didn’t mean you didn’t mourn what you lost. You cried miserably for a long time before the tears ran their course and dried up.

What a mess you must have looked like with your swollen eyes and fatal wounds, your hair likely littered with sand. That got you thinking: how come you didn’t look like this until now? Hmm. Maybe you had could control our appearance. Or you had to remember the truth first.

And another thing, “What happened to my stuff?”

“We scrapped the car for metal and parts. We kept the cash and trashed the rest.”

That was a little annoying. “Donate next time you need to get rid of belongings. I’m sure there’s a lot of people who could use it.”

“Noted,” he promised.

“How much time do you think I have left?” That was an unpleasant realization, especially since you weren’t sure where you would go next.

He gently lifted up the arm that was broken. You gulped. Your fingers were flaking off into bright blue pieces, drifting in the air before fizzling out. You were slowly disappearing.

It started in your hands and creeped up your arms and legs. Dwayne watched it happened alongside you. You weren’t in any pain, but you were glad that he was there with you.

“I’m scared,” you admitted. “Will you hug me as I go?”

He tucked your head into his chest, his hug comforting. Soon your limbs had completely gone and all that remained was your center. A final release of energy that felt like the final exhale let you know that this was it.

“I forgive you, Dwayne,” you said softly. You smiled and closed your eyes in anticipation.

Dwayne watched as the last of you floated off and dissolved into the night air.

“Good night, Y/N,” he murmured.

I hope that I was able to make Dwayne threatening, but compassionate, like I was aiming for. The Umbrella Academy gif is what I had in mind with the scene at the end. I’m actually a little nervous to post this, so thanks to anyone who takes the time to read!

#the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys dwayne #imagines

47 notes · View notes

supersonic-darling · 4 years

Text

Desert Dessert

Summary: Y/N and Josh have’t seen each other in a while whilst he’s been performing and they miss each other deeply. Special Hugs ensue

Word Count: 2314 words of utter filth

Warnings: 18+ Only! severe smut ahead, turn back now if you are underage! references to: spanking, whipping, pegging, rimming and an incredibly detailed paragraph about eating p***y so perhaps save it for another day if you’re with your gran!

A/N: Thank you to @satans-helper for inspiring me with their own fics of pegging Josh, he truly does have a glorious behind. And happy Good Friday Everyone, I’m sure my mildly religious mother would hate this!

You’d flown in at midday to watch the boys perform at some all day festival in the middle of the desert. The boys went on at 2 so you had time to get to the hotel, dump your stuff and shower before heading off to see them. Now you were standing backstage: watching from the side lines as they finished their set. Your cute angel of a boyfriend jumping about on stage with his brothers, and all the while you had the perfect view of his perfect behind.

As soon as they get of stage Josh bounces up to you and practically leaps on you. Enveloping you in a hug that instantly brought you a feeling of calm, it was completely him, his weight, his smell, everything. A quick kiss and you were greeted by the rest of his bandmates filing in behind him. Choruses of “Hey Y/N” and quick hugs were exchanged before they left to dump their instruments and grab a drink.

“Missed you sugar” Josh whispered as he pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder. “Saw you looking at me on stage” he pulled back giving you a cheeky grin.

“Of course I was” you smirked back “There’s so much to see”

***

You pushed Josh into his room once he’d got the door open. Shoving him against the wall, your bodies still glued together as you continued to attack each other with kisses. You made your way from his lips to his jaw, biting and sucking as you took control of his hands, pinning them above his head. You teased down his body; skimming over his growing bulge and feeling his thickness through the material of his pants.

Pulling him away from the wall you manoeuvred him over to the end of the bed, pushing him to lay flat and pulling his loose pants off along with his slippers, taking the chance to admire your love in all his glory before crawling over him to plant a quick, soft kiss on his plump lips. Josh let out a small sigh but he was seasoned enough to know he should keep still and let you work on him. You slowly made your way down his body, kissing and leaving small marks all the way down. You stopped briefly to play with his nipples; giving each one a little suck and a small bite before blowing on them and licking them before continuing down. You kissed your way down his entire body, casually avoiding a certain sensitive area despite his squirming and nestled yourself between his thighs. Feeling the soft tanned flesh you couldn’t help but graze your teeth against the inside of his thighs, biting gently when you felt them quake around you. You sucked a few little marks into each of them, taking your time to tease him more.

When you heard Josh let out a tense and disgruntled huff you pulled your head up.

“What do you want baby?” you whispered, pulling your nails gently down his sides and over his legs. Josh looked down at you, breathing heavily out of his nose as he saw his cock jump slightly with each breath you took.

“Please Baby. Wanna please… wanna make you cum” He whined. You smiled lovingly at the flustered man beneath you: leaving small kisses back up his body you reach his face.

“What are you waiting for then love?” you whispered in his ear.

Josh was so worked up over your ministrations he practically flipped you over as he scrambled to get between your legs. He started by teasing you as you had him; kissing the insides of your thighs and nuzzling his face into them. But he couldn’t take his own teasing and soon enough pressed his face against your centre, licking up slowly as he breathed in your scent. After his first taste of you he got to work; sucking and licking everywhere he could, grazing his teeth gently against your clit to make your leg twitch then burying himself in your folds. You couldn’t tell how long he’d been working on you, but you were on the verge of cumming already. His curls tickled your thighs as he put all his focus on eating you out. Your hand came down to brush through them as the feel of his tongue constantly going over you, his nose brushing gently at your clit, was too much and you came with a jolt; practically bucking him off you. With a surprisingly muscled arm he held you down over your hips, sucking and licking you through it, determined to prolong your orgasm for as long as possible.

When he finally stopped, he crawled back up to kiss you before flopping back down beside you. Descending from your high you noticed he was still rock hard. Using your remaining energy, you straddled him, leaning down to kiss him before slowly rocking your sensitive core over his throbbing cock. His hands came down to hold you as you moved over him, lightly rubbing your soaked centre over him. You littered small kisses and bites all over his neck as he mewled and moaned in delight at the friction. Seeing how needy and open he was for you made your heart beat faster. You turned his head to you again and brought him down for another kiss.

“Turn over.” You said breaking the kiss and climbing off him. Josh blinked his eyes open, the lust blown look and full plump lips making him look sinful and angelic at the same time. His nostrils flared as he caught your drift; smirking as he got comfortable on his front, propping his lower half up with a pillow. You took a moment to admire him. His soft tanned skin; naked form sprawled out on the bed just for you. You noticed how different the muscles in his arms and back looked to the soft muscles and fat of his butt. You moved around the bed to get a better view, crawling up from the end to look as his cute butt, he presented himself for you so nicely you thought as he wiggled his hips impatiently.

You settled yourself between his thighs, running your hands up and down his legs before bringing them up to his cheeks. Pulling them apart gently, admiring their give beneath your hands, you lent down to kiss him. Hearing the small intake of breath at your actions you lent in further, giving a long, slow, wet lick from his taint to his hole. Josh moaned low and loud at that, muffling the noise slightly in a pillow. You continued, alternating between slow licks and kisses, getting the area nice and wet and relaxed for you. Josh’s hips began to twitch as he tried not to hump the pillow beneath him. You had to admit the sounds emanating from his mouth were making you just as wet. When you thought he’d had enough you leaned back, his butt seemed perkier than before, probably from him pushing back into you, and you couldn’t help but kiss one of his cheeks as you climbed off the bed, giving it a small spank after to watch it jiggle.

Josh gasped at the contact before taking a moment to admire your naked body in the afternoon light he watched as you went to your bag to retrieve a small tube of lube and his favourite toy (If you haven’t realised by this point his favourite toy is a strap on you may want to leave now.) Josh rolled to his side slightly and you caught a glimpse of his cock, a tiny pearl of precum sitting at the tip from your previous work.

“Oh that reminds me” Josh said, breaking you from your daze “Look in the bag sweetheart” he gestured to a white plastic bag sat in a pile next to his case. You pulled out a small, handled whip with several tails coming from it. A blushed grin took over your face as you eyed him over on the bed. Staring back at you from under his lashes he wiggled his butt in your direction.

“Please Miss” he said, half teasingly but you could tell the undertone was needy, he wouldn’t have bought it otherwise. You tested the waters by swinging it about a bit, hearing the light whips of the air as you spun it in your hand. You made your way back over to the bed, slowly walking around the back as he tried to follow you with his gaze before you were right behind him. Fixing you hand around the tail end you spun it lightly and it grazed across his round bum, making a delightful soft crack. Josh gasped and his hips bucked forward at the small whip before he bowed back out to present himself for you again.

“please” came a small breath, moving his hands up the bed to hold onto the sheets. You swished the toy over him a few more times, earning a twitch and sigh for each one. After a few minutes his butt was such a nice blossom pink you decided to stop; seeing him shake slightly with a matching blush to all of his cheeks you thought it would be mean to string it out any further. You did however have to press another kiss to his cute round bum, you just couldn’t resist.

“Mmm’ready. Please” Josh sighed, humping into the pillow beneath him.

“You’re not baby.” You smirked pressing kisses around the heated area “Gotta stretch you out baby, get you nice and ready to take me.” Purring at the praise, Josh stretched like a cat, pushing himself back into you as you leant down to prepare him. Licking a flat stripe up him you grabbed the lube off to one side and slicked up your fingers. Relaxing him more you kissed and bit around the area, gently rubbing your fingers over his hole before slowly easing a finger in to stretch him. You worked him up pressing in two more before he was stretched enough.

“Such a good boy” you said as you kissed up his back “So good for me, you take everything so well.” Josh preened under your praise, smiling as he stretched out and tilted his head back, ready for your kisses. You reached his face and pressed soft kisses around his mouth watching him giggle before kissing him properly.

“Ready love?” you asked, stroking his hip as you angled in. He gave you a small yeah and pressed himself up against you. You moved your hand from his hip to his cheek, pulling it apart slightly as you eased in. The slow stretch made Josh release a low breathed moan, stretching himself out on the bed and spreading his legs a little further. You grabbed the lube again and poured a little more on, easing more of the appendage in there and rubbing his hips comfortingly. Although this was not the first time you had done this it was always a bit of a stretch and you didn’t want to hurt him. When you’d finally gotten most of the way in you stopped to let him catch the breath he’d been holding the entire time. When he gave you the go ahead you worked up a rhythm, holding his hips as leverage as you brushed repeatedly against his prostate. Josh’s moans increased as your speed did, he spread his legs and pressed back into you.

“Ugh, Y/N. Let me ride you”

You slowed and eased out of him, crawling back up to the top of the bed and settling yourself down. Josh pushed himself up and straddled you again, leaning back to grab some more lube. You took it from him and slicked the toy up more. Josh reached back and guided it into himself with you steadying his hips as he settled down. A shiver ran through him as he bottomed out and you rubbed his hips and over his abdomen to sooth him.

“Fuck me Mama” Josh breathed, his hands on your shoulders to brace himself. You angled your hips to give you more room to move and began to push into him. Shuddering at the feeling Josh began to lean into it, pushing back and riding you just as hard. The friction of the textured inside of the strap against you was making you pulse again and the concentrated look on Josh’s face as he worked himself up pushed you to work harder.

“Go on honey, touch yourself, you’ve been such a good boy for me” You urged breathlessly. Josh reached a hand down to his leaking cock and began stroking himself along with your movements groaning at the final contact. His head tipped back as he got closer and closer to the edge. Pressing back against the toy you could see the muscles in his butt work and flex. The continuous rhythm of his hips and the pressure of the strap sent you into your finish and with one desperate final thrust you pushed flush against him, Josh fisting his cock until he came seconds later: spurting thick warm fluid over both of your stomach.

You gently tipped him back onto the bed, easing out of him and kissing his cheek as you climbed off the bed. You came back moments later with a warm face cloth, and sans strap, to see your lovely boyfriend still in the same position you left him in. Wiping down his body with the warm cloth you heard him give a soft purr in contentment. It was times like these you really did think Josh was a kitten. When he’d come back slightly you coaxed him up to the pillow end of the bed and pulled the covers over both of you, snuggling down into the soft warm duvet, with your soft warm lover.

#josh kiszka #josh kiszka smut #gvf smut #greta van fleet smut #pegging!josh #my writing

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etherealwaifgoddess · 4 years

Text

One In A Million - Chpt.1

Summary: Project Traveler is ready for its first test subject and you volunteer for the position, unwilling to risk any of the other brilliant minds who have been working on the project from the beginning.

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Who’s ready to get this started!? I’ve been sitting on this fic a while now and I finally feel like it’s ready to be out in the world. I’m so excited to share it with you all. Hope you enjoy! XOXO - Ash

Chapter One

“Send me.” you offer, causing the room full of scientists and PhD’s to turn and stare at you. “I mean it.” you continue, “You guys need someone you can trust who knows the science behind this if it goes wrong. The only one who will miss me is my cactus.”

Chelton, the head of SHIELD’s Traveler project, looks at you thoughtfully. You’re young, still working towards your PhD after completing your masters a few years ago. It’s hard for him to believe you have nothing tying you to the world, but thinking back he can’t remember you ever talking about family or friends or anything personal. He assumed you were just taciturn by nature but he realizes now it was more than that. “You realize this is test number one?” he asks you, “We’re pretty sure it’s ready to go but if we’re wrong....”

You waive him off, “I know, I know. Death, dismemberment, permanent brain damage, yada, yada, yada. I’ve watched you guys work on this for two years now, it’s as ready as it’s ever gonna be. And someone needs to be the guinea pig, so it might as well be me. I’m still learning, if you lose me there’s still enough brains to keep things going and try again. If we lose one of you the project could end permanently.” You know it’s calloused but you made up your mind as soon as you had seen them putting the finishing touches on the transporter a week ago.

“Don’t discredit yourself, Y/N.” Chelton admonishes, “You're a valued member of this team. I want you to take the weekend and really think about this. Make preparations if you’re still serious after thinking it over. When you come in on Monday if you’ve changed your mind, no one will think any less of you.”

You give him a soft smile, knowing you need to assuage his concern, “Okay, thanks Chelton. I’ll think about it. Now, who’s ready to get out of here?” You pick up your files, ready to pack up for the day. It’s been a long week and you’re suddenly eager to get home, this will be your last weekend in the twenty-first century for a while.

Your apartment is a small studio over top a corner shop and it’s just big enough that you’re not constantly bumping into your furniture. Definitely an upgrade from the shoe box you lived in at college with two roommates. When you had moved to the city to work on the project recreating Tony Stark’s time machine it felt like a luxury just to have a place of your own. You water the little cactus who sits on the window sill in your living room, and settle in with your laptop to pay a few bills online. If things go as planned and you come back, it will be important to still have a roof over your head.

Your evenings are quiet with none of your friends living in the city. You email a few of them to let them know you’ll be away on a work trip and that you miss them. The picture of your parents sitting on the bookshelf makes your heart ache for a moment. You wonder if they would be proud of you if they were still alive. They’ve been gone for a decade now but it doesn’t do much to dull the pain of their loss.

Your stomach rumbles, reminding you that you haven’t eaten since breakfast. Normally you’d just scrounge up something from your cupboards, whatever you had leftover from earlier in the week. But a sense of fatalism hits and you realize that if you don’t make it back in one piece on Monday it doesn’t really matter if you blow a day’s worth of pay on a five star restaurant or not. And you have been dying to go to Peter Luger Steak House since you moved to Brooklyn. You put on your nicest looking dress, dark blue silk that accents your curves without making you look lumpy, and throw on a little make up for the hell of it. This might be your last weekend alive and you’re going to make the most of it.

xxXxx

Monday comes far too quickly and you’re a little ashamed to admit you’re not feeling your best. You’ve decided it’s easier to accept the idea that you’re not walking away from the test run so that you’re not devastated if and when something goes awry. You spent the entire weekend doing all the things you usually put off for more practical endeavors. The queue on your Hulu and Netflix accounts are clear and you’ve eaten a lifetime of fancy foods. You also learned what good, twenty year old scotch tastes like and it was worth every cent. You probably didn’t need to finish off the whole bottle over the course of three days though.

You drop your bag into your bottom desk drawer and hand Chelton an envelope when he comes over to greet you. “This is everything,” you tell him, “Passwords, account information, a list of people to contact. If things go sideways I know I can trust you to take care of things for me.”

The older man accepts the envelope but pulls you in for a brisk, uncharacteristic hug. “I’m so proud of you.” he says roughly.

“Oh come on, pull it together old man.” you tease, “I’ll be back in all of a minute if we’ve done our jobs right.”

“That’s right, and you’ll have some wild stories for us I’m sure.”

You join the rest of the research group, letting them know test number one for project Traveler is a go. The room erupts into happy chaos, everyone working at their stations getting the machine up and running. You run through the processes, double checking it for full functionality, and for the first time you start to feel genuine excitement that you might actually be about to go back in time.

Harris, one of the other original scientists on the project, gives you a run down for a second time, as if you didn’t assist with creating the protocols yourself. “You will have three jump points back to our time once you get there. One month, six months, one year. If for whatever reason you can’t get back on the first jump you still have two more shots to find your way back to us. You have to set up these three devices in the basement of the Strategic Scientific Reserve headquarters when you arrive to keep the link open for the jump points. You cannot lose this brooch or you’ll have nothing to pull you through. When you get there write down the exact time and date so you can ensure you’re at the jump points in time, it’ll be down to the second so be sure you do that first thing.”

“I know. I’ll be just fine.” you assure him while straightening out the neckline of your smart looking dove grey suit. The team had rustled up a vintage suit for you so that you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb when you got back to 1940. You fasten the antique looking brooch to the breast of it, knowing you’ll need to carry it on you always to ensure you have a way back. The team had decided against wristbands due to how obvious they would be in another time period and had settled on a tie tack or a brooch depending if it were a man or woman going back.

Harris nodded but carried on, “When you get there ask for Agent Wilson right away. Show him this card and he’ll get you access to one of the SSR aliases and bank accounts. You’ll be set up for as long as you need to be there. But remember, if you make any drastic changes to the past you’ll be forming a split in realities and creating a new timeline. We don’t know what kind of effects that could have. You need to stay under the radar and keep your head down.”

“Will do. It’ll be okay. I’ll be back in a minute, maybe six if I’m having a good time. You just worry about where you’re taking us all for dinner to celebrate tonight.”

Harris nods and lets you past him to take your place on the transporter. It’s been five years of tireless work for most of the people in the room trying to recreate and improve upon the machine Tony Stark and Bruce Banner used to send the Avengers back for the infinity stones. You learned so much in the past two years since you joined them. It was the opportunity of a lifetime and you are so grateful to have been given it.

“Okay guys, this is it. Nobody better eat my yogurt in the fridge before I get back.” you say with a wry smile, getting into position in the middle of the machine.

A few of the guys chuckle while they begin flipping switches on the control panel, readying the transporter.

Chelton returns your smile despite deep worry lines creasing at the side of his eyes, “We’ll see you in a minute.” he says and then he presses the final set of command keys.

You don’t close your eyes, not willing to miss a moment if they’re your last. Everyone’s faces are broadcasting varying mixes of fear, excitement, and hope as you look around your team. It starts out slow, a faint tingling of the hairs on your arms. Like you had rubbed a balloon along them and static electricity had built up. The tingling increases until your whole body is thrumming with a buzzing energy and then the world goes white.

#One In A Million #steve rogers #bucky barnes #reader insert #stucky #stucky x reader #steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #time travel #SHIELD agent reader #1940s setting #stucky fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #fluff and smut and a pinch of angst

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luthien-t · 4 years

Text

The Sun Will Shine. (Chapter One)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: Thanos invaded the asgardians ship for the tesseract & Thor called for back up. Being a liable paramedic, you gather your tools and go to space. You end up being injured in battle but luckily, Thanos was defeated, what will you do when you find out your lover, Loki suffered more than just a few battle scars? But then again, no one is ever really gone.

Warning: Angst. angst. ANGST. major character death. Blood, gruesome, fighting, curse words, there will be fluff somewhere in the story, I think thats about it

Word Count: 1.9+K

Quick Note: Hello!! This is my first time writing a fic, please inform me if i have any mistakes (english is not my first language), this is going to have multiple chapters, I promise the next chapters will be longer, im just testing the water with this one, if it flopped we can pretend it never happened oop. Thank you and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!!

The room was cold; It was bright as you felt your pupils moving under your lids but still refusing to open, they felt so heavy and.. Is that a heart monitor beeping? Am I?— It was getting harder to breathe and your eyes were still struggling to open and your muscles wouldn’t budge. The heart monitor started to pick your heart rate as you slowly got out of the comatose.

A door opened in an unrestrained matter with feet shuffling into the room fill up your ears.

“Is she awake?” a familiar voice said.

“What do you mean? She's obviously still in a coma, she’s not moving.” Another replied.

A coma?! What happened? Am I seriously in the hospital?

The door opened again and soft feet stepping on the floor interrupted your thoughts.

“This commonly happens when the patient is going through the waking up state,” a voice that you did not recognise said. “Will you please exit the room and as soon as the patient wakes up we will be sure to inform you!” a warm hand touched your wrists and there were sounds of wires and wheels moving, slowly you can feel yourself regain power of your own body and start to move your fingers, the monitors beeping starts to go back to its normal pattern and you flicker your eyes open, but unable to fully open them due to how white and bright the room is.

“Wha-“ you try to speak but your throat is too dry, clearing your throat only hurts more and you wince.

“Miss y/n, welcome back.” You turn your head to find a nurse smiling at you. She removed the oxygen mask and you shake your head softly then furrow your eyebrows still finding it difficult to speak, the nurse nodded slightly and brought all the nutrient necessities you needed in a cart and looked at you to say something only to notice the confused look on your face and sighs quietly. “I’ll inform your friends and family that you’re awake and the doctor will come back to check up on you in 20 minutes. we can talk about the procedure as soon as you’re fully awake and aware” your face was probably still confused as she smiled again before leaving you to look around the room, your eyes slightly adjusting to the lighting and you try to sit up but an excruciating pain stopped you from doing so, you looked down at your chest that was wrapped securely and then towards you arm that had a cast.

You look up at the ceiling and sigh trying to remember what got you into this situation in the first place.

Running, you were running, trying to reload your gun whilst holding a dagger in your hand, panic starts to course through you when you heard strong running feet behind you “fuck, fuck, fuck!”. You curse, looking behind you, it turns out it to be one of the chitauri and you throw your dagger at it. As if by luck, it went into its eye making it fall backwards. You aim your gun at it and slowly approach it to check if it’s actually dead. “Tha-“ you hear through your ear-piece but the signal was cutting the words and you press one hand to your ear as if it’ll help.

“He is here! Thano- the- not alone!” Steve said through the ear piece and your heart sunk, everything went silent as you looked around you, hearing nothing but your own heartbeat, forgetting that there is an alien by your feet, you then kneel down to grab your dagger only to be met by its eyes opening and grabbing you by the throat, you choke while trying to reach for the dagger in its eyes but the arm was pushing you against the rigid wall, letting out a cough struggling to breath as you kicked against its chest. Next thing you know you were thrown to the other side of the tunnel.

coughing and trying to get up was already difficult on their own, so trying to do both at the moment was not helping especially when footsteps were getting closer and closer to you, scanning the floor with your eyes you find your gun, cursing at yourself for even letting it go in the first place and as you grab it the alien in front of you stopped you by stepping on your wrist, causing you to yell and gasp. It was getting harder to see with the unwilling tears gathering in your eyes but you can hear the gruesome sound of the dagger being pulled out of its eyes while still stepping on your wrist.

Is this really how i die? You chuckled at that thought, tasting blood in your mouth while looking up, it was swinging the dagger down to your stomach and you gasped as it went through your abdomen and stopping you from defending yourself. You just lay down, waiting for it to leave. I’ll just play dead, should be easy. You thought to yourself.

Laying down and pretending to be dead was probably the smartest idea you ever thought of because you heard it walking away, however you have little time to regain your strength. You swallowed hard and got up, wincing as you look at the dagger. Do I pull it out or let it in there? I’m the healer I should know. You struggle to walk to your gun and lean down to get it but you manage, somehow. Rolling your shoulders back you sigh and limp your way out of the tunnel.

“Where is everyone?” you speak out loud hoping someone will listen on the other end of the line, only to hear “You really are the worst, brother” Thor said. You bite your lips, Loki. panic went through you as you tried your best to run towards where they were supposed to be on the ship, you started to hear Thanos speaking, Thor screaming. I’m almost there, hold on for me Loki. You hold your breath trying to save that energy for running-You were limbing, actually.-when you come face to face with one of Thanos’ minions, Ebony Maw, he had a grim smile on his face and with just a simple flick from his wrist and you were thrown to the ceiling then back on the floor, and everything went black.

“Earth to y/n” Tony said, you stay silent, only giving him a glare. Thor slowly walks towards you with a cup in his hands, taking the cup from him whilst

looking around the room. The entire team was here, only one person missing. There was a blanket on the couch & a duffle bag next to it. You took a sip from the cup.

“What happened?” Your voice was hoarse, still hurts to speak.

“After the team split up, Thanos showed up, he was looking for the Tesseract stone” Wanda said. “We were lucky enough to stop him before it was too late.” Steve said and sighed.

“W-We won?” You said, your voice going an octave higher with happiness.

“We won, kid” Tony smiled at you as you drank the rest of your water.

“Well,” Tony clapped his hands together & sat up from his chair. “Nothing new happened in the passed three weeks other than the fact that Thanos is dead,” He chuckled lightly. “But you on the other hand, need to rest & eat so… We will leave you to it” He smiled & quickly shuffled towards the door before giving Thor a quick glance and sighing. “I’m glad you’re safe, y/n” Steve patted your feet then followed Tony. The rest of the team followed. “We’re gonna go get food and then we will be back with entertainment!” Sam smiled widely causing you to smile back as wide. Thor stood quietly in his spot next to you on the bed, watching them leave quietly. You turn your head towards him, your smile slowly fading as you fully notice him now. His beard grew longer & he gained a bit more weight, he was wearing a dirty hoodie and sweatpants. Midgardian mordern outfits was Thors favorite part of Midgard, but seeing him in this certain look was starting to worry you. “How are you feeling, Lady y/n?” He asked as he sat down on the couch and ran a had through his hair. “Well, Thanos is dead, I’m alive, everyone is home safely, right?”

“Lady y/n,” He sighed before opening his mouth to speak again, only to get interrupted by the door opening.

“Good afternoon, Miss y/n, I am Doctor Wade Lee. How are we feeling today?” Doctor Wade smiled as he walked towards you with a file in his hand.

“Alive.” You smiled softly.

Doctor wade laughed gently and opened the file, scanning it quickly.

“Well you’ve suffered with a moderate head concussion, causing you to lose conscience, hence the coma-“ He smiled at you before looking back at the file. “-We had to operate a surgery for the stab wound & broken ribs, but they should be somewhat healed by now. Your broken left wrist is going to be in that cast for-“ He kept talking and talking about your situation, you kept nodding and nodding but your mind was somewhere else, thinking about Loki and the look that Thor had before the doctor walked in. You don’t want to think about the possibilities but your mind couldn’t help but wander.

“Is that clear, Miss y/n?” The doctors voice snapped you back to reality and you nodded with a soft hum. “Alright, I will be seeing you in two weeks from now! The nurse will inform you on your leave and if you need to stay an extra day or not, Have a lovely evening Miss y/n!” He smiled widely and left the room.

Thor watched him leave before clearing his throat.

“Lady y/n-“ He started again.

“Thor, please don’t.” You looked at the wall in front of you. You know what he is about to say, you heard his screams, you heard his words towards his brother on that ship, but you weren’t prepared to hear his words about his brother now.

“I’m sorry. I was trapped, I couldn-“

“Thor! Please stop!” Your voice broke. The heart monitor started to beep rapidly.

Tears began to gather in your eyes. “He can’t be” it was barely a whisper, but he heard you and looked down at his feet. “I wish I had the right words for this-”

“But you don’t! So, Thor, please… Don’t.” Your voice broke at the end.

“He died a hero, y/n.” You winced at his words and shook your head rapidly, bitting your lips, the room went quite but the monitor gave away your emotional state and you groaned then quickly pulled at the wires connected to your chest to stop the sound. The only sound that was now in the room was your heavy breathing and Thor tapping his foot, you look at him but he kept his eyes glued to the floor.

“It doesn’t matter if he was a hero or not. He fucking died.” You looked up at the ceiling and chuckled, remembering the same scene between you and that chitauri. “And it was my fault, all because I couldn’t fight longer..” You covered your face with your right hand as your body shivered.

Thor then got up, cleared his throat and walk out of the room and with that your sobs got louder and heavier.

Maybe he was giving you space to mourn, or give himself space to mourn, neither of it mattered, Loki was gone without a goodbye.

___

Ta Daaa!! Whatya think? Not so bad for a first timer huh??

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki #loki odison x reader #loki layfeyson x reader #loki odinson #reader x loki #loki fanfic

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vibing-and-writing · 4 years

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Lessons Learned

A/N: Hello lovelies!!! I hope everyone is doing ok even tho the world is really goin through it. This is probably one of the most self indulgent things I’ve ever written. Also natasha might seem a bit ooc since I’ve never written for her before. Hope you all enjoy my fic!! also plz excuse all grammer mistakes i tried to get rid of all of them T-T

Warnings: N/A (other than ✨gay✨)

Summary: As a teacher, you try to emulate as much Ms. Frizzle energy as possible. Ms. Natasha Romanoff, the principal, has taken notice.

Teacher!Reader X Principal!Natasha Romanoff (WLW)

You walked into your classroom, the bags under your eyes feeling heavier than ever. To say your morning had been going bad was an understatement. A spilled coffee on your lesson plan, a broken pair of earrings, and a traffic jam made it feel like the world was against you. Trying to keep some type of composure before it was 7:30, you took a deep breath and got to planning out your lesson for the day and the activities that went with it. Your cherry earrings swayed on your ears as you went about your routine, organizing bookshelves and grading papers. It was then that you noticed you had a small present near your computer mouse, its red bow shining in the artificial light. Considering that your students knew your taste, you knew it was either some sort of school supply or a pair of earrings. You had amassed quite the reputation as the ‘teacher with the earrings’, a proud achievement as a woman loving woman but also as someone who wanted to exude as much Ms. Frizzle energy as possible. As you were about to open the present, you heard the bell ring, the sound of teenagers walking through the halls going with it. Since the present had no note, you decided to just wait for your lunch break to open it, some of your more punctual students knocking on your classroom door.

The day went on better after that, your students being on the calmer side and winning your daily roast battle with Mr. Wilson from across the hall. “Those papers should be in my inbox no later than 11:59,” you reminded the students as the lunch bell rang. Letting out a long sigh as you sat down for the first time in five hours, you went to grab your lunchbox when your eyes trailed to the gift on your desk. None of your students mentioned the present and no one from another period has visited your classroom. You thought it could be a student from another grade, but none of your pupils said they gave it to you. That’s when you realize it couldn’t have been a student because it was on your desk before school had started, and no students were allowed in the halls until the morning bell rang. The curiosity in you began to build before a small nugget of hope bubbled in your stomach. Your hands moved to grab the present before you heard a knock. The small window in your door showed a vague redhead, and a question formed. You got up from your desk, your expression surprised as you opened the door. “Good afternoon Ms. Romanoff,” you said, trying to mask your nerves with a smile, “how can I help you?” Ms. Romanoff greeted you with a small smile on her face. “I told you to call me Natasha, Ms. L/N,” she replied, almost embarrassed. You laughed nervously out of habit, your finger reaching for your earring to fiddle with it. It wasn’t that there was a problem with Ms. Natasha Romanoff, per se. The problem was that she’s the principal. The very attractive, cute, intelligent, and gay principal. Who also happened to make your heart race any time she was in the room. Which was very often considering you worked together. But that's besides the point.

With clammy hands, you held the door open for her, the scent of her perfume grazing your nose. “Did you need something Ms.Ro- Natasha,” you winced at the unease of your voice. Natasha leaned against one of the desks, her eyes moving from your posters to your whiteboard casually.

<><><> Natasha’s POV <><><>

Natasha didn’t need anything. She also definitely wasn’t the one who left the present on your desk, which judging by the bow that was still untouched, hasn’t been opened. Plus the note she wrote with the present wasn’t there so you wouldn’t even know it’s from her. This also makes her coming here even more strange since most of your communication is through email or weekly faculty meetings. She also hopes you take note of her lipstick, which you complimented last week. And for you to ignore the yearning she looks at you with. But yknow: what’s being gay without a bit of disaster. That won’t stop her from trying though.

Nat takes a mental deep breath, trying to keep her cheeks from blushing too much. Glancing at your computer, she manages an excuse. “Just wanted to make sure you got my email, for the guest speaker.” Your eyes widen in recognition before going on to explain the response you were planning to send, but Natasha is not paying attention. Not because you were boring, it was actually the opposite. Everything about you was too interesting. Your themed and often silly earrings, the matching outfits, your dedication, the energy you brought into a room, it was all so you; she couldn’t help but stare.

The strangest part was Natasha always had a plan. If she didn’t have a plan she had five backup plans, being a principal and trying to run one of the best middle schools in the district. You were the one thing that made her scatterbrained and lay all of her cards on the table. She guesses that’s why most call it ‘falling in love’ and not ‘a gentle float into love’, though she amends it’s more of an extremely strong like. She could feel her confident mask crack every time she was near you, her words stuttered and embarrassed, and even more so when you were alone.

“...and I’ll need to make the copies of the permission slips, but after that everything will be ready.” Natasha blinks out of her reverie, trying to look like she was paying attention to what you were saying. She gives a nod in approval, her cheeks warming without her permission. “Sounds like everything is handled. You’re doing a great job Y/N.” Natasha smiled warmly, mentality throwing herself out of a window. All that was running through her head at this point was ‘leave leave leave leave’.

><><>< Your POV ><><><

You couldn’t have helped the smile on your face even if you wanted to. Getting a compliment from your boss felt good but getting a compliment from Natasha felt great. That still didn’t kill your curiosity though. Normally she’d just ask you these things through email or even before school started. The strange behavior and hope swirling in your head pushed the words out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Were you the one who left me a present before school?” You immediately regretted asking as Natasha’s face morphed into one of embarrassment, her face as red as your cherry earrings. “You know what never mind I’m just being silly, I’m-” Natasha interrupted you, her voice wavering. “No no you’re fine I was the idiot who forgot the note and I didn’t want to make it weird or anything.” You went to speak but Natasha took a deep breath and continued. “And then I came here to see if you liked them but then I saw the note wasn’t attached and realized it must’ve fallen off, and then you just…” Emboldened by Natasha’s rambling, you gently grabbed her hands, her chest moving up and down with deep breaths. “Nat you’re fine,” you said reassuringly, your thumbs brushing against her knuckles, “I haven’t opened it yet but I’d probably love anything you’d give me.”

Natasha looked shocked for a bit before she cleared her throat, her breaths starting to even out as she squeezed your hands. “I just don’t want to fuck this up,” she said, a small matching smile on each of your faces. You let out a small laugh as you nodded, “I think we’re doing pretty well.” Your eyes looked into hers, all happiness and mirth. Nat let go of one of your hands, but only to reach over to your desk and grab the present. She looks at you, her confidence filling her features. “All that being said, I still want to see your reaction.” You give her a small nod, your hands gently unwrapping the bow and gently lifting the lid. The heart earrings shine in the artificial light of the classroom, the silver edges adding an air of elegance. Your eyes widen and immediately give Natasha a hug, your arms wrapping around her neck as her arms settle at your waist. Natasha fills the silence by explaining, “I saw you looking at them during last week’s meeting, and I know you’d wear them more often than I do.”

You hold Natasha in the hug for a moment longer, hoping you can somehow express your gratitude and happiness into action because you are at a loss for words. Separating from the hug, you move your hands onto Natasha’s cheeks. Emerald eyes lock onto yours, warm filling your hands as her cheeks continue to flush. “I- I don’t even know how to express how much I love this Nat. How are you so good at this?” Natasha laughs in incredulity, shaking her head as she leans in to touch your forehead with yours. “Are you joking? I was a mess just walking in. And you have no right to look this cute in my stuff.” You giggle at her compliment as your eyes lock again, light emerald green eyes staring into yours. Her eyes jump from your eyes to your lips before jumping back, asking for permission. Letting the spur of the moment drive you, you both lean in. Your breath stalls in your throat as your lips nearly touch, the red of Natasha’s lipstick looking very enticing... but like all things in this world, nothing can be perfect. The bell rings loudly in the empty halls and classroom, the sound of students filing the hallways as you and Natasha jerk away, her arms still around your waist. Natasha coughs lightly, her blush now reaching her ears. You’re the first to break the silence, the silhouettes of your students already outside your door. “We should probably get back to work.” Natasha nods and takes her arms off your waist, her hands flicking off imaginary dirt. You playfully school your expression into a serious one, your hand going out to shake hers. “I’ll send that email to you later today Ms.Romanoff,” you say with a wink. Natasha snorts a laugh before a smirk takes its place on her face. With all the confidence and snark only Natasha can pull off, she replies, “I’ll be waiting, Ms. L/N.”

You start to make your way towards your desk before Natasha tugs you towards her and lands a solid kiss on your cheek. In shock, you start to stutter a scold towards Natasha, but she’s already got her hand on the door. She throws a wink over her shoulder before she starts greeting the students at your door as they start trickling in. You realize two things at the same time: 1. Natasha Romanoff might kill you from embarrassment and 2. You really like the way Natasha said your last name.

And if the students noticed a red kiss stain on your cheek, they didn’t mention it.

#natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #Black Widow #black widow x reader #avangers #avengers x reader #natasha romonova #black widow x you #black widow x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha romanova x reader #natasha romanov x reader #wlw #wlw fanfic #black widow fanfic

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inawickedlittletown · 5 years

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Together. Always. (one-shot)

A/N: This contains Major Endgame Spoilers. Do not read without first seeing the movie. (everything under a cut for spoilers)

Words: 5,897

Summary: In which Steve reflects...and does something about it. A Stony fix it fic.

@findmeinthestarss

Together. Always.

Twenty one days. Steve wasn’t even actively counting, but it was information filed in the back of his head. Twenty one days since it happened. Since half the universe was turned to dust -- disappearing where they stood no matter who they were. It was -- there were no words. When he looked at the others -- the ones that were left he saw it in their eyes too. It was grief and blame and none of them knew what came next and it was defeat in a way that Steve had never experienced and yet somehow in his worst moments, Steve’s thoughts fell to Tony.

It always went back to Tony.

Tony Stark. Earth’s best defender. Iron Man. And he was gone too…

Then, he wasn’t.

Tony was thin. He was gaunt and frail and his eyes held the same despair and defeat. There was anger and pain there too and seeing him had felt amazing and wonderful because he was alive. Tony was alive!

He ran, past everyone as the ship opened and he was there and Tony was within reach and the moment lasted seconds as Pepper approached and the moment was lost -- lost like everything else between them and he was to blame for all of it. But Tony was there within reach. He was alive. Tony lived.

It was more than enough for that to be true except that in the time that had passed since Steve saw Tony last, none of his feelings had faded. He doubted they ever would.

Loving Tony was forever -- it was innate and a part of him paired up with regrets and lost time.

Pepper’s arms were around Tony and Steve watched them and the desperation in which she clung to him, how Tony’s face was pressed into her shoulder and how it wasn’t him. Their eyes met and Tony was the one to look away. They weren’t okay. Steve didn’t know if they could be or ever would be.

The day had been bright and warm and if Steve remembered correctly -- and he usually did -- they had been somewhere in Spain. Their hotel had been particularly bad and Steve’s hair had gotten too long and his beard too unruly. He’d been getting food -- trying his best with his broken Spanish -- and the tv was on at the restaurant. It was Tony’s name that made him pause like it always did when there were news from home.

It was in Spanish and Steve didn’t really understand it all that well but Pepper was standing with Tony and they both looked good. They were smiling and laughing and Tony’s arm wrapped around Pepper’s waist. They kissed. There was a ring on her finger. His stomach churned. His whole body was numb. Cold. Tight.

Tony Stark y Pepper Potts se van a casar read the headline.

“Getting married,” Steve whispered. Tony looked happy. Unbroken. Someone else had put him back together.

Hell, all Steve seemed to do was break him apart.

If later that day, Steve hid away from the others and tried to find some sort of work for them, neither Sam or Natasha commented on it. Later, when it was closer to morning than night, Natasha grasped his hand.

Bruce put an IV line in despite Tony’s arguments against it. He was in a wheelchair too, too weak to go far on his own. His cheeks were so hollow and his eyes sunken and Steve hated to see him so broken. Knew he was partly to blame for putting him there and then the fight returned. Tony shouted every bit of it -- words he’d been holding back or waiting to say for longer than seemed possible.

“I needed you. As in past tense,” Tony said.

He wasn’t there.

It was too late, as Tony put it.

“I said we’d lose,” Tony said and he kept talking and talking like he always did, and his anger and pain was so plain and clear. Then his hand was reaching for his chest and the device, pushing back at Steve’s questions and demands.

“I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar.” And he dropped the broken reactor on his hand.

It cut deep.

Tony hated him.

It was deserved. He wasn’t there for Tony when it counted. He lied to him. Broke the whole team apart.

Steve could remember clearly when he’d said that win or lose, they would do it together. He’d expected them to be together. But, when it mattered most...he wasn’t there, making the wrong choice time and time again...

After Bruce sedated Tony, Pepper remained at his side. She watched them all warily until she could take Tony home and away from all of them. Away from him. Steve didn’t blame her.

The thing about Pepper was that she was so absolutely strong. Throughout all of it, she had remained steadfast even as she mourned like they all were doing.

“I needed you.” You weren’t there. He let Tony down when it mattered. Destroyed everything they built when all along Tony had been right about everything. Even The Accords probably — well, the part about keeping the team together being more important than losing some freedoms.

Then, Thanos was gone. There were no stones. Their new reality was here to stay and it felt like failing all over again.

Five years passed at a pace. Slow and lingering like a toothache with absolutely no relief.

The number of times that Steve actually got to see Tony in person could be counted on one hand but Natasha made peace with Tony and she kept up with him just like she kept up with everyone else. It was easy to let everything go and let her deal with it while he went to support meetings like Sam would have. He helped where he could and tried to make sense of the world that was missing half of all life.

It was Natasha that told him about Morgan and showed him pictures when she was born. A tiny little bundle with a tuft of dark hair who resembled neither her mother or father quite yet and whose very existence made Steve’s chest ache. But Tony was happy. Tony was moving on and living. His money still funded The Avengers but Tony stayed away and maybe it was easier that way because Steve kept encouraging people to move on even if he never would or could.

He never asked Natasha about Tony or Pepper or Morgan. She always just told him. Steve was aware that she went over for dinner once a month -- that she filled Tony in on everything even when the news was just about Carol Danvers saying hello from somewhere in outer space.

He saw Tony again properly after Scott showed up with a crazy story about time travel and a way to resolve everything. Tony looked good. Happy.

They were always fighting was the thing. Well, not always. Just a lot of the time. One or both of them too stubborn to back down from a fight wanting to be right or to prove the other wrong for reasons that never mattered past the moment. Countless times when Steve had wanted to just kiss him quiet and have that resolve everything. But if there was one area in which he was a coward it was that one. Fear of rejection or not being rejected -- it was all the same.

Morgan ran out to “rescue” her dad and Steve could see Tony’s reluctance to help in the way he held her and the way he invited them to stay for lunch and Steve couldn’t push it and beg him to help because the last thing he wanted was to hurt Tony again and to take away his happiness and the life he’d built. Tony had a family. He was happy.

They called him the man out of time. Maybe he was just the man with bad timing.

They kissed once.

Tony liked to celebrate after big things happened. Once the new Avengers Compound was built, it had felt right to throw a small party.

“We did it,” Tony said.

“Together,” Steve said and grinned at him.

Tony grinned back. There was a drink in his hand, but it was non-alcoholic, and he waved it around. Steve grabbed his forearm before he could spill it and Tony leaned into his side, looking up at him, through long dark lashes that seemed impossible.

“What comes next, Cap?”

All of it was behind them. Sokovia. Ultron. All of it resolved even if it came with its own loses.

“Train up the new team, I guess. Make this work even if you’re not a part of it anymore.”

“I -- I’m sorry. You know all I want is -- this is not the end and--”

The light shone in Tony eyes and there was a nervous energy about him. He looked beautiful and enchanting.

“--I’m haunted by what I saw and it’s time I step back. For the better. I just -- I’m sorry and I--”

Steve kissed him, a quick brush of the lips that made his entire body go cold with panic. Time slowed down as he pulled back until a hand was on the side of his face pulling him back in. Tony surged forward, wasting not a second before fusing their lips together, stepping into his space. Steve gasped into it, pressing back, his arm snaking around Tony’s back as Tony’s fingernails scrapped the nape of his neck.

The whole memory of it was seared into his skin, even if another kiss never managed to happen again. Not later that night. Not the next day. Certainly not when The Accords came into play about a year later or any of the time in between where seeing Tony felt like a luxury.

On his loneliest nights, Steve closed his eyes and dreamed about it. He tried to remember if Tony tasted like the cherries he’d had floating in his drink or if his goatee had scratched against his bare skin. He tried not to forget the musk of Tony’s cologne or the callused fingertips that touched his skin.

Kissing Tony felt like a dream -- an imagined happening that wouldn’t be brought up again.

Even knowing the kind of person Tony was, Steve didn’t expect to see him again, especially not with the solution and with Steve’s shield. He appeared like the knight in shining armor -- and technically he was exactly that -- always steps ahead of the rest of them. Always the one piece needed in the giant puzzle that was their team. Without him they were all lost.

Steve didn’t know if he gave himself away in how he watched and looked on at Tony as everything started to be put into place. How his eyes lingered and watched him and wished desperately that things were different.

It was days upon days of work. Gathering the team. Putting the time machine together. Figuring out when and where to go. All of it felt like old times except that they all felt their loses again and again.

One late night found him and Tony together. Alone.

“This is worth it, right? All of this?”

Steve could tell that Tony was running on very little sleep, and his fingers rubbed at his temples as if trying to stave off a headache.

“If we can bring everyone back. Yes. Of course.”

“I’ve been--” Tony coughed. “--I didn’t solve this in one night. I was already working on it. Time travel. It seemed -- well, it was the only way that…”

“Oh.”

Tony stared at the ground. “I was lucky. Not everyone was...and Peter--”

Peter Parker. Steve hadn’t even met him, not properly. Maybe once it was all over he might get to. If they managed to fix, that is.

“I’m sorry.”

Tony looked directly at him, his brown eyes so expressive and shining. “Me too.”

“I -- Tony, you must know and I’m sorry to--”

Tony’s hand landed on his forearm, still keeping eye contact. “I know. I know. You don’t have to--”

Later, once it was all ready and once they knew where they were going and what their teams broke down into, and he and Tony were standing in an alley and Tony’s eyes were on him, Steve would follow him anywhere. He trusted Tony. Of course he trusted Tony.

Peggy was beautiful. Steve had thought that the first time he saw her. He was never not going to love her and having her just within his reach made him reluctant to follow the rules. He was in the past and she was right there, feet away from him just within reach and it took everything to not approach her. His picture -- one from before the serum sat on her desk. In the future she had lived a full life. Had a husband and kids. She died in her bed, old and wrinkled and so so completely fulfilled. Without regrets.

Steve got out of her office and walked out, pym particles hidden in the pocket of a stolen uniform only to find Tony busy talking to Howard Stark of all people. But he had the stone.

“I saw Peggy,” he admitted.

“I saw my dad,” Tony said, dazed.

Steve hugged him, pulled him in tight. Their whole lives were intertwined from start to finish, it seemed. They were meant to know each other -- meant to be in each other’s lives.

“We have to--”

“I know.”

“You want to stay, don’t you?” Tony asked. It was a whisper.

Looking at Tony and having Tony just there within his reach made him hesitate. His answer was lodged in his throat and Tony’s stare was knowing.

“I--”

“We all deserve to be happy in the end,” Tony said. “That’s the whole point -- getting to go home at the end.”

“Tony, I--”

He didn’t want to stay. He couldn’t stay.

“It would be okay if--”

“No.”

“But you and Peggy--”

Steve shook his head, but he didn’t have the words to explain. He thought that Tony understood as he reached for his wrist.

They got away. Went back.

Nat was gone.

Forever.

The world was cruel.

Steve looked at Tony and Tony was looking back. Her sacrifice was going to be worth it.

There was some time in between where none of them could afford to linger on their loss again.

“We’re doing this,” Tony said.

“Yeah. Together.”

Tony gave him a long look. Then, he nodded. “Always.”

Hulk snapped his fingers.

It took mere moments before the world was in chaos again. He woke up to Tony. Destruction surrounded them and Thanos was back and Tony was right yet again. The side effects of time travel clear as day.

The whole of it was a blur. Fighting Thanos again, the appearance of Thanos’ army, and then in the moment when they needed them the most everyone back and ready to turn the tide of the battle.

It was hard to keep track of everyone and everything without losing the focus that might keep them alive. The gauntlet with the stones was passing from hand to hand, his shield was broken, and then Thanos had the stones and it was Wakanda all over--

Until one moment Tony was going for the gauntlet on Thanos’ hand unsuccessfully and the next Thanos snapped his fingers and…

Nothing.

It took seconds to realize what was happening. Longer for Steve to make it to where Tony was as Tony’s entire arm glowed with the colors of the stones and burned. Their eyes met. Tony’s brown and wet with unshed tears and a deep understanding that that was it. The end. His end.

“I--”

Snap. A flash of white. The world changed again.

Everything happened fast. Tony’s whole arm to his neck was charred along with his suit. Peter was there. Then Pepper. Over her head their eyes met and slowly, so slowly that Steve didn’t know how long the moment lasted life left them entirely.

Tony Stark saved the world at the cost of his own life, always the one to take the sacrifice play. Steve couldn’t believe he’d ever doubted him.

The next few days were hard. Pepper planned the funeral with Happy. Steve offered to help however he could and it all felt like someone else inside his body was doing it while he looked on. He broke when Tony’s message was played -- his last words to all of them because Tony was nothing if not prepared.

Pepper approached him when everyone was starting to leave. Her eyes were rimmed red and she looked reluctant when she stepped towards him.

“Steve, I -- there’s something he left for you.”

“For me?” Steve asked.

Pepper nodded. “When you came back from the past, he recorded a few other messages. One was for you.”

“Oh.”

“I haven’t -- I didn’t watch it so…”

It took him a few days to watch.

Tony was sat on the table back at the compound.

“Hey, Steve. I guess if you’re getting this then I’m -- I’m gone.” He paused there, his lips pursing and then letting out a sigh. “And I wanted to clear the air. Not that it hasn’t already been cleared. Maybe I just wanted to have the last word. And if I’m gone, I just want to be sure that you do more than sit around this place letting life pass you by.”

Tony looked out, almost directly at Steve where he was standing.

“You can’t do that, Steve. So, I want you to promise me something. I want you to embrace life and stop mourning what you’ve lost. Especially if one of those things is me. You don’t always have to be the hero. You don’t always have to be the man with the plan. Everything has an end but there’s a whole lot of middle too. Don’t waste your middle. Love you, Cap. Always.”

Tony smiled, then, his lips quirked up and then the recording shut off and Tony was gone. Again.

Steve’s eyes fell closed and he could still see him with his hair done perfectly on his head and his easy manner of being, his swagger or confidence -- everything that made him Tony Stark. In the recording it wasn’t easy to tell that Tony had brown eyes or that his dark hair had more grey in it than ever.

He opened his eyes again, expecting to see nothing. He gasped when he saw Tony. The grey recorded Tony...but not the same Tony because this one was dressed differently. He was addressing the camera head on, barely moving except for when his hands twitched and he wrung them together.

“As a child, the idea of time travel seemed entirely idealistic,” hologram Tony said. “Like a fairytale full of impossibilities. Most scientists would tell you it’s impossible and yet more impossible things have happened. I saw my dad, Steve. Howard Stark in all his glory.”

There was a long pause that dragged. Tony tapped a finger to his chin and he sighed, dropping his hands to his sides. “And I didn’t know it’d hit me that hard to realize how human he was. Anyway, the point is -- the point is that if I’m not there I hope you get to do what you wanted to do when we were in the past.”

Steve didn’t get it at first. Not until he realized that Tony must have recorded it when they came back from 1970.

“I hope -- I hope you go back and see her. Stay with her. You deserve that -- to have the love of your life and get to experience life in that way.” He chuckled. “I hope -- well, I’m hoping that I’ll be able to say this to you in person.”

Tony wrung his hands together again. “I know you’re probably thinking about all the things Bruce and I said -- the rules. But, don’t you worry about screwing anything up. Just know that after everything, you deserve this. You deserve that kind of happy.” He smiled and it was sad and mournful. “Always.”

Tony was wrong. He was so wrong.

Tony stayed there for a moment longer, lingering like a ghost. He seemed to be trying to figure out if he should say something else. Then, he shook his head and the recording ended.

Steve didn’t know how long he cried, or how long after his tears dried up he just sat there unmoving and unsure of everything but with a new determination because Tony was right. Why was he always right?

Steve could time travel. It was a real and proper option.

Days later, they were ready to take the stones back and Steve jumped at the chance, volunteering at once before anyone else could even consider it. He could tell that Bucky knew what his real intentions by volunteering were. Or maybe he didn’t -- maybe he hadn’t guessed all of it. The others didn’t have a clue. Sam was almost harder to look at as he moved onto the platform, Mjolnir in hand.

The truth of the matter was that despite everything, Tony’s entire purpose had been to get to live his life. He’d just wanted to be able to do that while living in a safe world without the threats of a purple alien to contest to. The threat was gone and so was Tony because the universe itself seemed to like the idea of that sort of poetic irony. The kind that was unfair and tragic.

Putting the stones and Mjolnir back was easier than it had been to take them but only mildly so. He managed to do all of it undetected and without seeing much of anyone else. Then, he went to find Peggy.

He went to her house. She didn’t believe it was him at first, poking her finger into his chest hard before she cried and threw herself at him and he caught her and held her and it was all just so so easy and hard all at once. Peggy was in his arms -- this was everything he’d longed for and wanted for too long.

“How, Steve? How? You...you...you died--”

Peggy’s face was screwed up, her eyes flooded with tears and she looked beautiful. His beautiful fierce and stubborn girl. And he loved her. He did.

“I was frozen,” Steve said.

She gasped. “Howard was right.”

“Yeah. He’s a Stark, isn’t he? They’re somehow right a lot.” Well, no, one particular Stark was right a lot.

Peggy eyed him, always shrewd and always knowing. “You’re not just talking about Howard.”

He shook his head. It was hard, especially when she took a step back and really took him in. Her tears were all but dried up. Her scrutiny was everything.

“You don’t look the same. You’re different.”

“I--”

“Tell me.”

He told her everything. About waking up in the future and about Bucky and about The Avengers and how she lived a full life. Eventually, he told her about Tony.

“The best person I’ve ever met -- the hero none of us deserved. You’re going to be his godmother. I made so many mistakes when it came to him and judged him when I didn’t even know him. Fought him every step of the way like someone that didn’t understand we were always meant to be on the same side. Everything that happened -- us fixing everything and saving the world and the universe at large is down to him. Always.”

“You love him,” Peggy said. Her hand touched his cheek, wiping a tear away.

Steve closed his eyes. He gave a short nod and opened them again.

There wasn’t pity or sadness in her eyes. Instead, there was understanding. Love. Maybe some pride too.

“You aren’t here to stay, are you?” Her voice had an edge of sadness to it.

Steve shook his head. “No. I -- I can’t. I just wanted to see you. One last time. Maybe -- maybe we can get that dance.”

Peggy laughed, but she nodded and together they cleared out some space in her living room. She put on music. He wasn’t that guy anymore that didn’t have a clue about how to dance. Not that he’d done a lot of dancing in the future at all.

Swaying to the music with Peggy felt like closure. An end.

When it was over, she stared at him long and hard. “This is goodbye then? A proper one, this time.”

Walking away from Peggy wasn’t easy, not when he loved her still. Always would. Peggy Carter would never fade from his memory.

But there was somewhere else he needed to be. Somewhere else that he wanted to be.

You deserve that -- to have the love of your life and get to experience life in that way. You deserve that kind of happy.

The Tony Stark of 2012 was different. Younger and more carefree -- unburdened by everything Steve had done or not done. He had yet to be broken by the carelessness and thoughtlessness of a man out of time.

Watching him while Tony had no clue he was there felt invasive and yet rushing in was worse when seeing Tony brought everything back.

His Tony was dead. Future Tony was dead. Future Tony sacrificed himself to save everyone else including his wife and daughter and this man just in front of him within easy reach was not that Tony at all. And yet he was. He was because this younger Tony had just flown a nuke into space -- Tony had always been more than any of them deserved.

Tony seemed surprised but happy to see him when his knuckles rapped on the glass door before he stepped into the workshop.

“I thought you went on a road trip? Or was Romanoff lying to me again? She tends to do that. Not that I’m not glad to see you. Just surprised, is all? Did you need something? Did something happen?”

He was Tony. Words coming out so fast that the Steve from this time hadn’t been able to keep up, hadn’t found it endearing and wonderful and like a soothing balm on his aching soul.

“No. No. I -- is that offer is still good?”

Steve didn’t even know why he was doing that -- why he was bothering to ask when if he faced reality, he actually couldn’t stay. There was another Steve driving around on a motorcycle halfway through the United States that would return eventually and take up his place and--

“What, your very own floor on a building with a giant A on the outside?”

Steve nodded. He was nervous. Tony was stood just before him complete with AC/DC t-shirt, dark hair, perfect goatee, and brown lively eyes. His arc reactor shone in his chest not yet removed and so absolutely blue -- a light at the end of a very long tunnel.

“Yeah, that.”

“Sure. Always good.” Tony looked confused, a little thrown off. He eyed Steve, but this Tony didn’t know him. Not really. He wouldn’t notice the differences.

“Good. I -- I figure I’ll take you up on it.”

It was easy. Too easy. Tony smiled and it was the genuine one that was all Tony and not Tony Stark or Iron Man. Just Tony. To think that things could have been as easy as this if he had only been less judgemental and less focused on the past rather than the present he was actually in.

He hung around the lab, looking at Tony’s newest suit. It didn’t compare to any of the future ones and yet Steve loved it. He loved the red and gold and how real and grounded it looked. Iron Man. Earth’s best defender. Saver of the Universe. The man he loved.

Steve had only to look at a calendar to know where the Steve from this time was -- the one that would slowly tear the man in front of him apart without knowing it and because of his own pain and his own loneliness because he hadn’t known or seen the branch of friendship offered complete without surprise clauses or questions or caveats.

Days passed and Steve became a fixture.

Tony wasn’t as busy as he pretended to be. Or, he didn’t mind making time for Steve. It hurt to know that this -- the friendship and the acceptance -- had all been there waiting for him if he had only bothered to ask.

Some days, they went out for strolls to hole-in-the-wall restaurants. Some of them so tiny and so well hidden that it was a surprise to know Tony knew about them. One day, Tony surprised him with tickets to a baseball game. Steve wasn’t all that bitter about the Dodgers anymore, but it was still weird to watch the Yankees and root for them. Other days, Tony insisted they both sit in sweatpants with all the junk food they could find while Tony introduced him to a “cultural masterpiece” and Steve had to pretend he hadn’t already seen it. It was still different to watch something with Tony. To spend his time watching Tony’s expressions and to catch the lines he mouthed along to.

“You’re surprisingly quick on your feet with the tech for an old guy,” Tony said one afternoon, eyebrow raised after Steve used a hologram interface without much trouble.

Steve froze. Lies had always been the problem. Even those excused by “for your own good” -- a cheap way to pass the guilt. It was him making the same mistakes again.

It had been weeks since he’d arrived and lodged himself into Tony’s life and--

“About that--”

It had been easier to tell Peggy when the chance of everything going wrong hadn’t been as high. But once he started, it all spilled out. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted and needed Tony to know the full truth.

Afterwards, there was silence.

“I died, so you came to the past and created an alternate reality just to see me,” Tony said eventually.

If he was going to say it all, then it all needed to come out. Especially the reason he was there to begin with.

“I love you.” He paused, letting the words linger between them.

Tony’s eyes were shining. His mouth was slack with surprise. He was completely still.

“I’m in love with you,” Steve finished.

“You really -- you mean that…”

The moment dragged on forever.

“I--” Tony began.

“You don’t have to say anything. This is -- this was stupid and I can still go back. I can still just--”

Pepper was still around. She and Tony were together -- sort of. It was complicated, apparently. Steve had seen the signs, the way that Tony moved sometimes and how he never slept the whole night through without finding himself in the lab. Steve had taken to making him herbal teas and Tony had complained the whole way through drinking the first one until he admitted after the third one that they weren’t all bad -- they were even soothing . Steve had known all along that he liked them and it felt a little bit like cheating.

“I--” Tony said again and then he gulped and shook his head as he came back to himself and he stared at Steve like he’d never seen him before.

After that, Steve gave him his space.

“There are two of you,” Tony said a few days later, entering the kitchen. “Two Steve’s. That -- that shouldn’t be possible. It could be disastrous.”

“So you want me to go. If you want me to go, I’ll go.”

Tony shook his head. He walked around the table separating them, his hands landed on Steve’s biceps and his eyes bore into his, searching for something. Whatever it was, he found it because a few seconds later he shook his head. “No.”

“Then, what--”

“You -- the you from now. That Steve...he yearns for the past. For Peggy. For what could have been. You don’t.”

Steve laughed. “You’re my past. My present. My future.”

“Not for him,” Tony said.

Steve shook his head. “Not yet.”

The moment dragged out and Steve didn’t know what was happening or what Tony was getting at.

“I’m...I could love you,” Tony said eventually. He shook his head, laughed a little. “So easily.” He ducked his head, suddenly bashful.

Steve had never seen Tony like that. But this Tony was gentler and softer and his lips were quirked up when he looked at Steve again.

His second kiss with Tony felt inevitable. It was soft. Cautious and curious -- Tony’s exploration into what if. Steve didn’t even know who leaned in first or how his hands ended up in Tony’s hair. Just that it happened.

Tony didn’t taste like cherries. He tasted like herbal tea and a hint of chocolate. His goatee didn’t scratch. His lips were just a bit chapped, but they fit perfectly on Steve’s and the whole world -- all of reality and time itself could have collapsed and Steve would have stayed in that moment. Forever.

Tony was the one that called Steve -- that time’s Steve -- and asked him to meet.

Stubborn and self-righteous, that Steve came anyway. If out of sheer curiosity or because he felt bound to after the events of New York. It didn’t matter.

Steve stayed out of the way, out of sight until Tony finished telling him. Seeing himself -- this younger version that was so jaded and upset and who just didn’t understand or get that being angry at the world and himself for what happened to him wasn’t going to fix anything -- was more difficult than he’d expected.

“Hey, Steve, seeing him now, I don’t know how I didn’t catch on you weren’t really him,” Tony said eventually, his cue to show himself.

They weren’t all that different in how they looked, but there were noticeable differences once they were next to each other.

“So, you’re me,” this time’s Steve said.

“In a way. Tony explained what he could. We can send you back. Tell you a few things that might help you along the way. You can be with Peggy.”

That Steve’s eyes lit up. He felt hope.

Steve shouldn’t have been surprised that Tony was right. That Steve hadn’t been in the future for too long. His entire life -- everything he knew -- was still in the past. It didn’t take long to tell him about Bucky and Hydra infiltrating Shield. Other bigger details too and then that was that and they got him on his way.

“You told me to be happy,” Steve told Tony after it was all done. “To live my life and be happy. I think this -- us -- it isn’t what he meant. I don’t know if he ever knew how I felt, but--”

“I know,” Tony said.

Their fingers were intertwined. It was as it should be.

In another reality another Steve danced with Peggy.

In another, Steve delivered a shield. Tony watched from behind a tree. And after Sam and Bucky were gone, Tony walked to the bench.

“Regrets?” Tony asked.

“No. Nice to see them -- this version of them.”

Tony kissed his cheek, leaned his head into Steve’s shoulder and they looked out on the lake, lingering in his original reality, but ready to go back to the one that he’d made into his home.

#stony #endgame fic #endgame spoilers #stony fic #mcu #marvel #mcu fic #spoilers #fix it fic #steve and tony #stevextony #steve and tony fic

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capsicletho · 5 years

Text

Get Here If You Can

a Reader x Tony Stark one shot by @beaubatns (changed from stvrktony)

trigger: kidnapping, mentions of bruises and scars

genre: angst but fluff too

word count: a bit over 2k

a/n: this is based off this prompt right here! if you want to be on tony stark tag list, let me know! i suspect there will be more of tony fics upcoming!

The man looked at you with a piqued interest, his eyebrow rising and his lips pulled into a smirk. You were downplaying how much you wanted to take the desolate jewelry company, but he could see that you wanted it. The jewelry company was costing him, but the way you were so quick to purchase it off his hands were intriguing him.

“Why do you want it so much?” He asked.

You chuckled and just gave him a shrug. “Let’s just say it’s a way for me to indulge in one of my favorite fields for once. Stark Industries is always about machinery, technology, transportation, and other industries that interested Tony, but for once I’d like something of own,” you reasoned.

“And Tony lets you do that?” The man asked again, interested in how the current acting CEO of Stark Industries was able to do whatever she pleased with the company, like Tony just gives her the seal of approval in whatever she does.

“He trusts me to make my own decisions.”

“Well, I really don’t see how I can lose anything here, so I’ll take your offer up with the rest of the board, and I will get back to you as soon as I can,” he stood up, taking the file of venture acquiring proposal with him. He outstretched his right arm to shake your hand which you received as classy as possible.

The truth was, Tony wanted that jewelry store because it was his mother’s favorite store. When he heard that it was going bankrupt, outshone by other globally branched out brands, he wanted so much to preserve it and asked you to do whatever you can to acquire it.

You were about to inform Tony of the good news when FRIDAY’s robotic yet feminine voice rang through the room. “Miss, Mr. Stark is missing. We have reason to believe he was abducted,” she informed. Concise, simple, but horrific enough to make your heart plunge to your stomach.

“Clear the rest of my day, please, FRIDAY. And get my car ready,” you said, immediately packing up all the necessary things and heading out the door. Your grey Audi was parked right outside the lobby––Tony loved Audi R8s so much that he just had to ensure that you had one too. You remembered the argument you had about Tony wanting to purchase a bright purple one for you, but you were not a fan of cars that attract too much attention. The sound of the engine and the car’s own reputation were already turning heads; you did not need the car to be bright purple too.

You got inside your car and drove all the way to the Avengers Facility. In your periphery, you saw the Quinjet hover over the compound and then disappear behind one of the buildings to its pad far before you arrived.

“FRIDAY, is Tony not in there?” You inquired, refusing to believe that Tony was really missing in action.

“No, Miss. All the Avengers are there except for Mr. Stark. They had to leave because Wanda was injured pretty badly. Dr. Cho is ready to attend to her.”

You parked your car straight out front of the main doors. In your stiletto and expensive work outfit, you turned heads as you exited the car. You ignored that and just marched right into the facility when the security stopped you.

“I’m sorry, do you have an appointment? If you do not, you may not enter the facility,” he said, assuming by your fancy clothes and jewelry that a woman like you had no business in a facility where they train superheroes and respond to dangerous threats.

You dug inside your bag and pulled out your Stark Industries badge, scanning it to the scanner right next to the door and the double doors slid open for you. The security guards were aghast; uncertain how a woman they have never seen before had a clearance to the building. Two guards followed you to make sure that you were not a threat; on other days you might have taken the time to explain who you were, but Tony was your first priority. You had to know the latest update on him as soon as you can; your entire body was practically shaking with fear and anticipation at the same time.

Happy marched up to you just as you entered the building. “Hey, (Y/N), what are you doing here?”

“I heard about Tony. Where are they?” you spoke straightforwardly, not in the mood for pleasantries.

“They’re in there,” Happy pointed out to a room across the spacious lobby. “Its alright, guys, she’s with me,” Happy said to the guards following you to stop them from tailing you. The room’s walls were made of clear glass and you could see most of the Avengers assembling inside it, still in their suits with some medical personnel attending to their little scars. It would have amused you how these superheroes seemed so mundane, sitting there just receiving their treatments from the medical team, but you had no time for that. You needed to know more about Tony.

The Avengers saw you walking towards them, but you only had your eyes on one of them, Rhodey––who sucked in a deep breath the minute he saw you. You stopped in front of the automatic doors, expecting it to just slide open, but when it did not, you scanned your badge again to the little scanner machine and the green light approved your access into the room.

You walked in, looking at Rhodey, subconsciously ignoring the other Avengers. “Where is he?”

“We don’t know,” Rhodey responded. “It was an ambush and we lost him.”

“Then why aren’t you there looking?”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Clint butted in, confused as to why Rhodey seem to be ready to just give a stranger classified intel on their latest mission.

“This is (Y/N) Stark,” Rhodey spoke up a little bit louder for the entire room to hear. “Current CEO of Stark Industries, and Tony’s wife.”

Everyone was silent, their mouths agape as they did not expect what was coming out of Rhodey’s mouth. Peter was the first to break the silence by standing up and giving his seat up for you even if the teenager was injured and then took the seat right next to you. You smiled at him and lifted your bag up to place it on the table. Everyone’s eyes shifted to the undeniable glint of the diamond ring that rested on your ring finger which confirmed the ridiculousness of the news that they had just received.

“So?” You asked and Rhodey responded by giving you the whole rundown of what happened. It was another day of attacking a base and somehow they have all exited when the building was about to blow, and yet Tony did not.

“FRIDAY is rounding up the footages we have on the site now. Hopefully that will lead us somewhere,” he said.

You did not come to work the days after that, not having the energy to do work and face the pressure of bearing the weight of the entire industry while your husband was still missing, so you decided to come over to the facility as much as you can to get the latest update from them. You did not talk much as the Avengers gathered and tried to find Tony, you simply paid attention to what they were doing as they sent out signals to find Tony, hoping that the genius would be able to find his way out like he did in Afghanistan.

The nights were the hardest because you were used to having Tony’s warmth right next to you. Pacing the room back and forth your room was the only thing that calmed you down, because sleeping in the empty bed with no assurance from Tony that he might come back scared you more than any nightmare ever could. You wished he would just get here in anyway he can; be it a clunky original Iron Man suit he made in an Afghan cave, crossing the desert like he did when Rhodey found him, an airplane, or something as ridiculous as a hot air balloon, you just wished there was some form of transport that he can use to get to you. You needed him right now. You do not care how, you just wanted him right by your side if he can.

You wanted to desperately try and call Tony’s phone––it was the easiest form of way you can contact him, but you did not dare. You were afraid that his phone might go off or something and it might put him in jeopardy. As you sat in the Avengers living room, you did not realize that you have been staring at your phone for quite a while––your eyes trained at the screen, but your mind somewhere else.

“His phone is probably off. We tried finding the signals from the tracker in it, but it was found in an empty land near the base we found,” Bruce told you as if he could read his mind.

You smiled at him, grateful for the information, but then frowned. “Are you sure it’s an empty land?”

“That’s what the satellites showed. Near the rubble of the base, there’s really nothing else around it,” he confirmed, sounding very sure.

“We have to check the footage again,” you said, suddenly getting a surge of energy because you might just found a lead to where your husband might be.

You stood up and went into the meeting room where Steve and Natasha were, asking FRIDAY to replay the video of when the building blew up. You paid close attention to the footage, pausing on the window right before the camera went dark.

“Is there any way possible that they are under all of that? Like a bunker of some sort? One of these people must have thought about that by now, considering how many times you guys always raid them; they would need a safe place nearby while they cover their tracks,” you hypothesized. There was no way they could have gotten out without leaving a trace, and the only logical explanation to that was because they have not gotten out yet.

Steve inhaled in realization that you might be right; even if you were not, it was an option they did not explore and he was willing to try it. The Avengers were gearing up not a moment later, scurrying off to the Quinjet as fast as they can to save Tony.

“I’ll bring him back, I promise,” Rhodey promised you just before he left.

“You always do,” you smiled, entrusting your husband’s life into his best friend’s hand was second nature to you. Rhodey saved him once, you knew he will be able to do it again.

It was hours when Rhodey himself finally brought the good news to you. They found Tony. Battered and bruised, but still very much Tony with a witty comeback at the tip of his tongue.

You were waiting out on the landing pad as the Quinjet arrived, your smile was uncontainable. The Quinjet opened and revealed Tony with one arm around Rhodey and it made you a bit nostalgic. The medic team approached with a wheelchair, because they knew Tony would refuse a stretcher, and yet Tony refused that too, immediately limping towards you.

You jogged to him and crashed your body into him, emitting a slight groan from him, but the two of you did not care.

“Sorry I’m late for dinner,” he said.

“You’re here,” you sighed in relief, closing your eyes as you use your other senses to finally feel him, ignoring his witty little comment. “I knew you’d get here.”

“I’ll always get to you. Whatever it takes. I’ll climb trees and buildings and swing rope to rope to get to you; I’ll find a magic carpet ride or a hot air balloon, if I have to,” he paused and the two of you chuckled. ”You know I’ll always get to you.”

You pulled away and smiled, kissing his chapped lips gently, noticing the cut on the left side of his lower lip. “Twice of this is enough, Tony. No more. Do you understand me?” You looked at him sternly.

“Yes, Ma’am. No more missing in action. I should promise you,” he smirked.

With that, he kissed you hard, ignoring the stinging on his lip and the rest of the team who were witnessing yet another prove of the fact that the playboy they knew turned out to be a married man.

TAG LIST:

@princess-evans-addict

#Tony Stark fanfiction #tony stark fanfic #iron man fanfic #iron man fanfiction #tony stark x reader #iron man x reader #tony stark one shot #iron man one shot #avengers

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bangtangurlarmy · 6 years

Text

Prove You Wrong || Jungkook

Pairing - Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre - Assassin! AU

Word Count - 8940 words.

Warning! - This fic is clearly a work of fiction and does not depict any of the members in the story as they have been portrayed in this work. Their personalities have been shown as it is only for entertainment purposes.

Also contains graphic depiction of violence. If you get squeamish easily, I suggest you turn a blind eye to this post.

You sensed the approach of an attack. You heard near silent feet on the tiled floor of your bedroom before you opened your eyes. Your fingers discreetly curled tighter around the hilt of the dagger you always kept under your pillow, your breathing not once giving away that you were awake.

Opening an eye, the dagger in the assailant's hand gleamed in the moonlight and before they could plunge it in your back, you whirled with your dagger in your hand, up and against theirs. With a swift punch to their face that they'd let too close in the moment, you jumped off your bed, toes curling against the frigid cold tiles.

The person who'd tried to attack you was on the floor, clutching on to his nose, obviously disqualified. You strained your ears, letting your eyes adjust to the almost dark room - most of the moonlight only shone on where you were sleeping on the bed so you couldn't rely on that source anymore.

You heard the singing of a blade and ducked in time before jumping ahead and grabbing onto the owner's wrist and twisting it, their grip loosening on the sword before it clanged on the floor. Pulling them forward, a knee to his ribs had him out as well.

Rolling your shoulders, you clutched the hilt tighter as you twirled and brought it close enough to the person who thought it was a wise choice to keep his jewellery on - the chain glinted betrayingly against the moonlight - and swiped your blade, close enough that it ripped clean through the shirt material but not too close to harm him. Disqualified.

You sniffed him before you saw him. You could tell whose scent it was from a mile off. The familiar thudding of a pair of feet you'd heard way too many times in your life, approaching, inviting your own feet to dance with it. And you gladly accepted.

The dagger raised to counter his sword, the muscles in your arm burning as he pushed down, but you didn't let it break your balance, gathering enough strength to push him off, feet tapping over the tiles as he caught himself.

His smirk mirrored yours as he took a step to your left that had you reacting faster than you could catch yourself as you realized he'd tricked you. Rebounding off the floor, he flew to your right before a swift movement of his blade snipped off one of the straps of your nightgown on your shoulder.

Disqualified. You let out a growl in his direction, mostly because he'd ruined one of your favourite nightgowns.

"Okay, that's enough." A familiar, deep voice sounded from a corner before the light switched on, illuminating the room. You saw three men behind you, two of whom had distaste written all over their rugged faces as they watched you. Sending a shrug their way, you turned to look at Yoongi, your trainer and employer, for your evaluation.

The five of you gathered in the centre of the room, as Yoongi walked with muted footsteps, taking a stand in front of you.

Before he could speak, you opened your mouth.

"Keep staring and I'll gouge your eyes out with my bare hands," Your face remained blank and you heard a muffled cough from your left as he looked away from your bare shoulder. You'd kill Jungkook for that humiliation. You heard him snort beside you, making your jaw clench in annoyance.

There was a hint of a smile on Yoongi's lips before he spoke, "I'd say good, but that was rather...It made me want to sleep. Daniel, please work on your footwork and breathing. Jimin," He sighed and you could see Jimin tensing from the corner of your eye as he stood out of line.

"You're definitely better but you could do exceptionally better. Next time, I want that, along with zero jewellery on you," Jimin relaxed and fell back in line.

“Taehyung, work on guarding both your sides and a more silent approach, especially with a sword.”

"Jungkook, the next time I see you being a little too smug about undressing someone, you'll be taking a trip to the Fatal Keep," Yoongi said, referring to the place where most of the brutal trainers taught people who were unfortunate enough to land there - usually as a punishment. Authority was evident in his voice at a minimum, yet enough for him to understand what he'd done was puerile and unnecessary.

You felt a smile tug on your lips when Jungkook mumbled a "Yes, sir."

"Y/N, good job with keeping aware of your surroundings, although you didn't have to hit them too hard," He said, chin jerking to show you your work. Daniel was bleeding through his nose and Taehyung was rubbing where you’d hit him on the ribs. You sighed through your nose.

"Daniel deserves it though," You gestured to him, eyeing him with spite. If you ever caught him looking at you like that again...you would definitely not hesitate to act on your words.

Yoongi shrugged, "Yeah, maybe. But listen, you are all being trained to be stealthy and hyper-aware of your surroundings. The most you will now be allowed to do is disarm the assailant for the exercise, should it happen again," With a pointed stare towards Jungkook, Yoongi added, "You will not always have a weapon free at your disposal. Six out of eight fights will be without weaponry. You must learn to trust your body."

With understanding nods in response, Yoongi flicked a hand so fast you were mere seconds away from being nailed by a blade that flew past where your head had been. Wide eyes watched Yoongi, partly in awe, partly in fear of it happening again. Your heart pounded from the surprise attack, but you knew it was an example of what he'd said about trusting your body. The rest had gotten the message loud and clear.

"You may now retreat to your rooms," He dismissed, the boys filing out of the room one by one. Jungkook was about to leave when he turned around and walked to you, you clicking your tongue at his approach.

"Sorry about your nightgown..." His eyes trailed down your body in such a way that made you squirm. Not with uneasiness, but with...You shook your head and looked away.

"Just keep your payment on my dressing table so I can buy a new one," You said, clearing your throat.

"Or I could just," he took a step closer, "fix it for you."

If it wasn't for what he said, you'd have been flustered with colour evident on your cheeks.

You looked back and scoffed. Him and sewing? Yeah, he might as well be stripping in a bar right now.

"It's fine, I can do it myself. You still owe me some goods in return, though."

Jungkook rolled his eyes, an all too familiar motion.

"The usual?"

You grinned, "You know it."

You were bored to tears.

Blinking sleep away from your eyes, you stifled a yawn as you sat cross-legged in the shadow of the chimney. Leaning against it, you watched the window of the inn where your target was currently getting ready to sleep.

You never understood Yoongi's concept of having an impromptu exercise the day before any assassin's mission. It didn't make it any better when you didn't know what the exercise would be. So every time he approached you about the next target, you were quite often consumed with mixed feelings of anticipation and dread.

Popping another chocolate and hazelnut ball into your mouth - part of the treats you'd seen resting on your dressing table when you awoke that morning, with a card that read 'Sorry not sorry for what I did. Spar with me today?' - making you laugh at the memory, you waited another hour in the shadows, the sweet treats keeping you up and energized until it was time to move.

The kill had been far too easy and most of the sugar-fuelled energy still hadn't worn off, so instead of reporting to Yoongi immediately, you approached a door you usually wouldn’t when you were in your right mind. Knocking lightly, you bounced on your feet, feeling way too restless.

"The fuck you want- oh."

Your wide eyes met with his and you cleared your throat.

"Sorry, uh...you probably don't want to be-"

"Oh, no, it's okay. It's just that Daniel has been bothering me since evening. How was your mission?" He asked, still at the door. You rocked back and forth on your heels as you rubbed the back of your neck, giving him a sheepish smile.

"Too easy?" He laughed, reading your posture instantly. He knew you like he knew the target he practised archery on. You didn't know if to be insulted or be pleased.

You nodded, "I still haven't reported yet. I was wondering if you wanted to spar?"

You weren't surprised at his raised brows, given how late into the night it was. "Now?"

When you just shrugged in response, he smirked.

"I don't see why not."

"So haven't you gotten a new mission yet?" You asked, panting as you tried to keep up with him. You could feel your energy declining rapidly. You would be exhausted soon and then you could go sleep. The thought of a warm bath and silk sheets almost made you moan out loud but you caught yourself.

Jungkook's sword clanged loudly against yours, the sudden force making your arm shake a little. You frowned at his furrowed brows.

"Kook?" It was during these moments when you'd both forget you weren't competing against each other for a title of 'The Best Assassin in the Land' or some shit like that.

"Huh?" He grunted as you easily disarmed him in a few heartbeats.

You watched him in confusion as you gasped for breath, the last few movements having taken out every bit of your energy. He still hadn't answered.

"A new mission?" You repeated.

He shook his head, a hand rubbing the back of his head, before brushing gently at his hair. He only did that when he was nervous.

"Yeah...yeah- hey, don't you have to report to Yoongi? It's been an hour, he's probably expecting you."

You cursed, instantly forgetting what you were talking about as you shouted over your shoulder, a request for him to keep your stuff back, running out of the training room and to Yoongi's office.

When you reached his office, you were about to knock when you heard a muffled voice say "It's wiser to send Jungkook for that. Namjoon isn't somebody to be handled by Y/N...not yet, at least. Don't reconsider your choice."

You frowned before knocking loudly, the person going silent as you entered.

You and Jungkook had trained together ever since you were little and you couldn’t remember the first time you’d tackled him to the floor with just your bare hands. Well, he did too, number of times more than you could care to admit but that wasn’t the point.

Jungkook was a skilled young man with equally good looks. Although you hated to admit that part, there were enough instances that happened along the way that made you want to squirm thinking about it. His raven black hair shone like obsidian everytime the sun hit his locks, and his chocolate brown eyes dazzled every time he wielded a sword. And not to mention how easily he could imitate the look a kicked puppy, his eyes doe-like, that you found yourself falling into his trap multiple times before you'd grown immune to it. But it was the way his toned body filled his tunics, or the way he went shirtless during combat training that you found tough looking away from.

His talent in swordsmanship and archery, in addition to that, made you wonder how he was good at almost everything. Too good.

Of course, you were as good as him, just a tad less. He'd been training ever since the age of five whereas you'd only begun at nine. With two years of age separating you, it didn't take too long for the rivalry to develop. One was always ready to outshine the other. In every field.

You were skilled in swordplay and archery but more in hand to hand combat. You’d had more wounds from those combats than scars from sword or dagger cuts to display, unlike a certain somebody.

You both were, nevertheless, equally feared and known in the country for your skills and work, although, nobody knew either of your faces. If they did, it was under an alias.

While you weren’t exactly a freelance assassin and could take on assignments and targets only that your employer cum trainer deemed fit, Jungkook basked - no, bathed in the wealth he received from being more available to the merchants who wanted their dirty work done for them. Of course, he only did it if their trainer, Yoongi, allowed him to take up.

Maybe that’s why he was a freelance - because he was ready to follow rules and guidelines, take calculating steps and plan before moving ahead. While you, on the other hand, constantly got high on the adrenaline each assignment gave you, from the risk of getting caught or being absolutely, fucking ruthless.

“Devil help me if you ever get caught,” Yoongi grumbled at a meeting causing others to snicker, Jungkook being the most obvious out of them all. You shot daggers with your eyes, shutting them up instantly, only Jungkook daring to keep his smirk.

You were angered by that. By the fact that Yoongi didn’t seem to trust you enough or believe that you were more than capable to get out of a problem on your own. That conversation you’d heard two days ago echoed in your head as you took another bite of your food.

“I will have you writhing on the floor, begging for mercy,” You grunted as you pushed the flat side of your blade against his, causing him to take a defensive stance.

He grinned, “How about you actually do it than talk. All I see is you losing miserably.”

You snarled as you went tip first into him, ready to pierce his armour, his sword coming up to counter your attack. That’s when you ducked, catching him off guard before you swept your leg clean on the floor beneath him, the clanking of his armour against the stone floor satisfying your hunger for victory. Most of it, at least.

Jungkook groaned, a hand coming to his shoulder as you watched him, your chest heaving before turning away.

“Why are you so pissed anyway?” He called as you walked to the bench where water and some snacks lay in wait.

Grabbing a bottle, you twisted the cap so harshly Jungkook gulped when the cap landed on the floor, knowing full well there was still some part of that temper that was burning, ready to consume anything that was unfortunate to tread along its way.

“I don’t know.” Came your clipped answer as you breathed heavily after two gulps of water.

“Bullshit,” You heard the sword whining as it went back to its sheath, his footsteps sounding as he came towards the bench. “You never beat me unless you’re absolutely pissed, and from you wanting to stab me, I can tell something’s bothering you. And it's not because you're running short on chocolates.”

You hated him. You hated his brain. You hated how much of a smart ass he was, observing you every step of the way. He knew you way too well for your own good.

“You imply one more time that I don’t beat you at sword fighting more than you do, I will shove mine down your throat so you don’t talk again.” You crushed the empty bottle in your hands and threw it into the bin.

Jungkook took a gulp of water, grabbed a banana and took a bite off it before talking, “That’s because you don’t beat me at this more than I do-“ he stopped chewing when you turned around, anger flashing red in your eyes, your hand on the hilt of your sword in emphasis on your threat. “-you’re just a sore loser.”

You turned back around, trying to calm your breathing as you walked towards the door.

“At least you’re the second best!” He called out as you exited the training room.

Taking another bite of the fruit, Jungkook laughed as he heard a faint shattering of a glass vase. You’d be answering to Yoongi about that at dinner tonight.

You threw your bedroom door open and launched yourself onto the bed. Inhaling deeply, you screamed into the pillow, the soft material muffling most of the frustration.

When you were satisfied, you turned around to face the ceiling. You weren’t pissed at Jungkook, per se, you were pissed at Yoongi.

Although you heard - eavesdropped, kind of - about it from somebody else while they were talking to Yoongi, he had confirmed it right the next day when you were hoping you'd misheard it. Jungkook was given the duty to take down Kim Namjoon, one of the leading rivals of Yoongi, who was also a genuine threat to the kingdom.

You wondered the night following the news if it was that what had made Jungkook feel nervous - either facing Namjoon or telling you about it. You didn't blame him, both the options were daunting.

Kim Namjoon was the most sought-after hitman and leader of the deadliest assassins in the country. You scoffed when you’d first head of that, claiming nobody could beat Yoongi’s assassins, but one look at their victims told you they got their job done thoroughly. Without a trace, they left the scene - and their victims were left mauled and unidentifiable. They followed recklessness while Yoongi followed caution. You snorted at the irony of your choice of leader.

It was rumoured that Namjoon was the one who was responsible for the death of the Duke a month ago, although it was believed that Namjoon never took on the victims personally. But if he did with the Duke, then perhaps he must have done something that pissed Namjoon off to an extent that was unforgivable. Since then there’s been chaos in the country. Nobody knew whether the rumours were true, nor did Namjoon or his assassins bother to confirm or deny them. Why would they, when the chaos clearly gave them the upper hand?

The King not long after had put up an announcement: anybody who’d bring the dead body of Kim Namjoon would be heavily rewarded. There had been attempts on his life since, but the number decreased over the weeks as the people who tried their luck were found dead at the gates of the castle. For the last week, the world was silent as Namjoon slept soundly every night.

But the fact that Yoongi had more belief in Jungkook than you did something to you. It felt close to betrayal because - and you remember this very clearly - he’d promised to give you a target that was worthwhile. And you were hoping it would be Namjoon. Not some petty fool like the corrupt courtesan you'd taken care of three days ago. You weren't exactly questioning his authority, but rather you were tired of the men of the keep whispering behind your back about how Yoongi only kept you for....other purposes. If you could shove your sword down their throats and squish their eyeballs under your feet, you'd gladly do so. But...they were Yoongi's men. And you were his lone female assassin. He wouldn't want you going rogue.

You didn’t realize how quickly the time flew by until the housekeeper, Rosa, patted your cheek to get you to have a bath as you were “stinking up the entire room”.

Yoongi drummed his fingers on the table as he awaited an answer from you. The rest of the assassins at the table had their eyes on the floor, the tablecloth or the food which was slowly getting colder with every minute that passed with you staying silent.

“Y/N, I’m not going to repeat my question.” His voice was stern as he addressed you regarding the damned vase you’d pushed over on the way to your room.

“I was pissed.” You muttered, eyes on your shaking hands. You fought to keep your temper at bay.

You could feel half of the tension at the table lifting as the others let out a steady breath. Jungkook’s eyes burned two holes on your forehead.

“Why?” Yoongi asked, eyes still hard on you.

You could hear the underlying question. Why is the assignment I gave Jungkook bothering you? You breathed heavily through your nose.

“Have I not proven enough of my worth for you to give me better targets?” You blurted, eyes wide and set on your trainer. His jaw ticked and you knew you were testing his patience. But you weren’t letting down. No, not this time.

“Y/N-“

“No, I don’t care that Jungkook is better than me or that he keeps taunting me for being second best-“ you noticed him straightening at that, “-but why am I never sent for anybody higher than a harlot or a fucking courtesan. Am I that useless? Heck, even Jimin gets important targets and he's just been here for a year."

Jimin visibly gulped at this, his eyes focusing elsewhere.

“Or wait,” your voice was calm, a bitter laugh sounding before you said, “is it because I’m a girl?”

Yoongi’s eyes were brewing anger, his fingers curled tight into a fist. Jungkook cleared his throat, but Yoongi’s hand came up, signalling him to keep his trap shut.

“You are worthy of even the king, must it ever happen to require to kill him, Y/N, but you fail to understand. First, you will not question me, ever again. Second, you will get your assignment when it’s time. Third, this is for your own good.” He came closer, the vein on his forehead popping as he barely contained his temper. “Am I clear?”

You clenched and unclenched your jaw. Your foot bounced and your palms began sweating. You could feel Jungkook’s eyes on you.

Glancing at him briefly, his eyes were soft yet stern as he raised his brows. Don’t you dare.

That ticked you off.

“No.” You breathed.

Yoongi blinked once. He narrowed his eyes. The tension rose again.

“What?”

“I said no, you are not clear. I am done being your lackey and you telling me what to do. Let me be clear, Yoongi, I know what I’m doing. And I’m going to prove that to you.”

You turned to Jungkook, “And you.” You pointed at him accusingly, then at the rest, “And the whole lot of you misogynistic assholes. You think I can’t take a man down. Could you get any more patronizing than that? Watch the castle gates tomorrow morning. Then let me see who has the balls to laugh behind my back and call me a ‘prostitute in disguise’.” You glared at one of the guys, Daniel, him cowering under your look. Hmph, they couldn’t even own up to their own words. Pathetic!

And with that, you stood up with so much force, the chair you were sitting on toppled over, breaking the silence in the room. Storming out of the place, you went to your quarters to get ready.

You’d show them who you were. You couldn’t wait to see their faces when they’d see the result.

You were armed to the teeth, checking yourself once more, making sure you had all that it would require to take down one man and his watchdogs. There was a tendril of nervousness that caught hold you but you pulled away before you prodded it further.

You had stepped right out your door when you almost crashed into somebody. Looking up, your frown dug deep as you recognized him.

“What?” You growled, your hand already at the hilt of your dagger, ready to hurt him should he try to restrain you. You’d stop at no length.

Jungkook, however, only watched you. He was looking into you, really looking, as though he could break down the wall you kept putting up. In his dreams.

Your patience was teetering over the edge, you ready to yell at him when he spoke.

“Why are you doing this? What are you trying to prove? That you’re better than me?”

Sometimes, you really wished you could skewer him on the poking stick and grill him over the fireplace in your room.

You narrowed your eyes, laughing humourlessly, “Look here, pretty boy, don’t think you’re somebody worth worshipping for your skills. I have no interest in proving you wrong about anything.” You began walking away.

“Then why are you risking your life? You know Namjoon is a guy not to be reckoned with.”

His question stopped you in your tracks. Fury ripped through you and it flowed in waves, your hand itching to punch something, anything.

“Oh, okay,” You turned around, “So when you do it, you’re saving the whole damn world and damsels come running to you squealing how strong you are and you get patted on the shoulder for being so fucking brave, but when I do it, I’m risking my life and it’s too dangerous and men look at me like I’m a piece of meat ready to be pounced on when I'm weaponless. Why? Because I'm a fucking girl. Can your dumb brain sort through what’s clearly so messed up?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. He’d never thought you’d been bottling up so much anger and tolerating such actions. Now he felt like he should have punched those men who made snide remarks about you when you left the room.

“Look, all I’m saying is, don’t go now. It’s snowing, and you wouldn’t be able to see a thing out there! Just stay, you can go when the snow clears.” He wished, no, hoped you would heed him. But after that little storm you brew in the dining room, he doubted you would.

And he doubted right.

“As fucking if. You will stay here. If I even get a sniff of you following me, I swear to all Hell, I will not hesitate to kill you.” You snarled, baring your teeth at him before you stormed away and out of the keep.

“Y/N...” Jungkook’s voice trailed away as you jogged farther into the streets.

You crouched on the roof, your fingertips stinging against the cold as you waited for the harlot to come out. They were taking way too long - and worse, they hadn’t exactly shut the blinds. So it was pretty much a free show if you wanted to look. You scanned the house again. More like a mansion; you’d taken about fifteen minutes to scour the place, which was ten minutes longer than you usually took.

Namjoon’s union was in the wealthier part of the town so it was understandable.

It was pretty big for just one person, but you knew it was just like your keep, shared with the other assassins. It was a mansion that had the essential rooms on the ground floor, with a verandah and a set of staircase that led to the front door. Two hours ago, you’d seen the girl walk in through there, just as another exited. Talk about adventurous. It absolutely disgusted you.

The living room was to the right, a wide window revealing much of the interior decorations and couches that adorned the room. The dining room was to the left where some of the watchdogs - okay, assassins - sat and played a game of cards while two guarded the door. And they hadn’t failed to check out either of the women that left and entered. You had sneered at that, a hand itching to hurl a dagger towards them.

There were two guards on either corner of the house, patrolling the sides where the alleyways between the houses were dark enough for you to be able to dispatch them easily. And when you’d studied the back of the house, you found two other at the back door. There were no maid quarters on either side or the back so you safely assumed the rooms on the second floor belonged to the housekeepers.

The first floor seemed to have at least five rooms, judging by the size, while the second had three. Namjoon’s room was on the first floor, the first door to the right. The roof was definitely not to be considered an entry safe place given how steep it was. Clever of him.

The storm had calmed considerably, your fingertips at the mercy of your warm breath as you blew into your hands. You crossed your legs and waited for your chance.

It was well into early dawn, around 3 am perhaps, judging by the quiet road and darkness of the sky - save the full moon that shone furiously - when the two guards moved from their posts at the front door for another two to replace them. So they rotated every two hours, while the ones on the sides and back every three. They wouldn’t expect an assault at the back then, but this was Namjoon’s men you were talking about. You’d seen they were capable of, so their lax bodies didn’t let you believe that they were truly relaxing.

You didn’t mind. Besides, you were aching for some good action. You’d be honoured to take them on.

When you looked back again, you saw the woman in Namjoon’s room did not leave and in fact decided to stay, much to your annoyance. If it was going to get violent, then you might have to kill her as well. You hoped silently that it wouldn’t come to that.

Inhaling deeply, your breath curled into the air as you breathed out, rolling your stiff shoulders and bouncing on your feet before sliding down the roof. Catching hold of the drain pipe, you easily slipped down, the metal stinging your fingers as you did so. You remained against the wall of the house whose rooftop provided you visibility access to the assassin’s keep as you walked towards the alleyway where you’d seen the guard turn the opposite way.

Making sure both sides were clear, you jogged across the street, your feet silent on the gravel as you made it onto the sidewalk on his side of the house.

You walked closer to the manor, eyeing the side of the house to see if you could find an open window. You pursed your lips when you realized you would have to get in through a door - either front or back.

Noticing the light catching on the hilt of the sword that remained sheathed to the side of the guard, you walked as quiet as death towards him.

Anchoring yourself a few inches away, you smirked at the guard’s wide eyes when he turned around, “Surprise.”

Before his hand could reach for his sword, your palm thrust against his nose, causing him to stumble a few steps back before your hands came from the sides and slapped him on his ears. Grabbing onto his face, you swung it down where it met your aiming knee, the loud crunch of his nose breaking quenching a particularly sadistic part of you.

Aware of how loud the melee was to alert the guards at the back door but not the front, you let his body thud against the gravel before strutting around the corner of the house, two blades by your side, ready to spill some blood.

The two men were hurtling towards you in seconds, a thought spared to praise their speed before you met the first one’s blade with both of yours, them crossing to trap the sword before swinging your arms so wide that it sent the sword flying onto the grass, disarming him. But it didn’t faze him. A fist came swinging towards the side of your head, your hand coming up to block it, before sliding down your hand so swiftly that he didn’t realize his wrist was slashed until you kicked him square on the chest, knocking him out.

The other had crept up behind you, a rogue arm agaisnt your throat before you could duck out of the way. His bicep crushed your throat mercilessly, but you turned the daggers in your hands, before sending them behind you, impaling the sides of the guard. His arm loosened and you fought the urge to cough as you twirled around and landed a punch that surely killed him.

Almost wheezing, you coughed into your elbow before you pulled yourself onto the landing of the back verandah and landed quietly on your toes. You just hoped the guard on the other side hadn’t heard any of it.

Catching your breath wasn’t too hard. With a hand brushing over the hilt of your sword that calmed your nerves, you walked through the back door hat hadn’t been locked.

Foolish. Just utterly, disbelievingly foolish.

“Some assassins you are,” You scoffed, closing the door behind you.

Jungkook paced in his room, the crackling fire no longer burning, bits of ember floating through the chimney as he rubbed his hands together. He couldn’t remain still.

Partly because of the cold and partly, well, because you’d just gone out on a death mission. He didn’t know what kind of power had possessed you, and although, yes, he did find you hot during the training session earlier for some apparent reason, he couldn’t shake off the uneasiness he had felt since the moment you stormed out of the training room.

He’d never realized all of this had bothered you so much. If he did...if he did, he actually didn’t know what he would have done.

Jungkook was standing next to his window when he heard two voices outside, right under the window. One of them was laughing as he spoke, “I don’t know what she thinks of herself, we’re probably going to find her body at the gates tomorrow.”

“Not probably, for sure.” And they snickered again.

That’s it. He would take no more.

Striding to his closet, he ripped out a coat from its hanger and was out of his room before he had his coat on. Rubbing his shoulders and knuckles, he trudged towards the front door.

Jungkook was going to have a nice, long chat with those boys outside.

You easily slipped through the lobby, the men in the dining room too busy smoking a cigar to see a black-clothed being passing by. You tiptoed up the stairs, remembering where the leader’s room was. You kept reminding yourself to make it as quiet as possible so the lady beside him wouldn’t wake up.

You treaded slowly and quietly, knowing you had enough time till dawn to prove your point to the men in your keep.

But you froze when you noticed a guard patrolling the hallway where Namjoon’s room was. You were still on the landing, an extra set of staircase left to cover before you could reach the guard.

When you reached his door, you remembered to control your breathing, before rubbing your legs together to make sure you had your daggers there, strapped to your thighs, the sheath by your waist housing your beloved sword that never let you down.

You swore silently. How had you not noticed the man? And this guard wasn’t as lean built as the rest. He was bulky and his muscles looked ready to rip through his shirt material. You rubben a hand over your face. What would you do about him?

You felt a sudden calm filling your nerves when you realized what you could do.

You were right, the threat made to one of the guards to call the burly assassin down worked.

You stood pinned against the wall as you awaited his arrival, the thudding footsteps softer than how you’d imagined it would be, forcing yourself to strain to hear.

When you were certain he was just two steps farther from turned to the dining room, you launched yourself, the sword singing in the dead silence of the room as you swung it, the edge cutting deep into the chest of the unsuspecting assassin, whose eyes only widened as he realized what had happened.

When you reached the assasin’s door, the one you’d not been assigned to kill, you remembered to control your breathing, before rubbing your legs together to make sure you had your daggers there, strapped to your thighs, the sheath by your waist housing your beloved sword that never let you down.

But for tonight, a dagger would do. A clean slit across the throat would do. He would have a slower death than a stab to the heart. Than the rest of his men.

Turning the knob as slowly as you could, you opened the door, praying it wouldn’t creak. Although you’d planned for a masterful and extra entry, this would do. The element of a surprise toned down a little.

You glided expertly over the carpeted floor - big mistake on his side - and reached the bed. Only a single body could be seen under the sheets. Hopefully, that meant that the girl was in the bathroom.

You clenched your jaw before grabbing the end of the quilt and with a quick flick of your wrist, you had the blanket off the bed, the bloodied dagger poised to cut his throat-

Wait.

You found yourself pointing the dagger at a bunch of pillows. Your heart stopped.

“Looking for someone?” A whiff of cologne wafted to your nose before you felt his breath on the back of your neck, but the next thing you saw was blackness as the hilt of his sword met with your head.

You groaned as you felt a heavy pounding in your head, as though someone was hitting you with a sledgehammer. It might as well be happening.

Your eyes were slow to adjust to the light, and you slowly realized what had happened.

You had come to kill Kim Namjoon, one of the most wanted criminals of the kingdom, who was an expert at his job. You knew that because you’d seen what he was capable of. Most of his guards were easy to dispatch save for the final kill, that was him. Now you were in his bedroom, bound to a chair and completely vulnerable. To be alive after being caught was a miracle in itself.

“Well, would you look at that.” You heard a voice croon from somewhere behind you, your ears ringing from the force of the blow he’d given. You felt blood trickle down the side of your head.

“And here I thought, Jungkook was a male,” Namjoon chuckled, his dagger glinting against the moonlight that shone through the window. That’s when you noticed the rooftop of the opposite house, the one where you’d been spying from. He could see you directly from his room.

So much for being discreet.

“I’m-” You coughed, your throat dry. How long had it been since you were knocked out? Judging from the darkness and quietness outside, it seemed like 4 am at the most.

“I’m not Jungkook.” You finished your sentence.

“Oh?” Namjoon leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He smiled, the smile not reaching his eyes.

“The who are you, girl? Some amateur trying to earn recognition? Desperate for attention, is that it?”

Your pride hurt as the words rolled off his tongue. If you hadn’t been so indiscreet about your hiding spot, he’d have been dead. You had sworn an oath to the keep and to Yoongi that under no circumstances were you to reveal your name and neither your connection to him or any other assassin.

“Wait a minute - you’re that girl of his. What’s his name, ah, I forgot.” He laughed, the dagger glinting at you again as he paced in front of you. You remained mum, but the look in your eyes perhaps gave you away.

“Aha, that ruthless little assassin who doesn’t know how to follow rules...but has got quite the skills, considering how you took one of my best men out.” He brought his dagger to your cheek, the tip biting into your skin. You clenched your jaw at the stinging sensation.

“You call him one of your best? I think we both have different definitions of that word.”

He chuckled, “Got quite a mouth. You’re the girl...” He trailed, the dagger digging further.

“...who begs to be noticed. Jungkook must be your companion. Is he here tonight?” You resisted the urge to shake your head.

“No? Okay, then, I guess this will be a long night for the both of us.” He smiled cunningly, and then before you could react, he slit a long cut down your cheek so swiftly you screamed only when the pain registered a moment later. You felt blood drop onto your arm that was tied to the chair, your feet a gone case as well, as they sat with one ankle over the other underneath you.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you saw him grab his sword. You couldn't go down like this. No, you wouldn't let your impertinence to Jungkook and disrespect for your occupation cost you your life.

Jungkook hissed as he ran hot water over his knuckles, the gashes nothing compared to what he’d received so many times before. But then the entire time, his thoughts were on you. On your safety. He glanced at the clock.

If you didn’t return by 9 am, he’d look for you. He just didn’t want to go too early and piss you off if you were really getting the work done. He hoped you’d be alive for him to find.

You bit a shriek as his sword gashed your thigh, blood spilling quickly onto the carpet. It was carefully aimed, you realized, noticing the shallowness of the wound. You had to blink a few times for the stars in your vision to go away. Yoongi had trained you better than this.

“Tell me, who sent you?” He probably knew that already if he knew Jungkook’s name. But how did he? Was there somebody on the inside? A mole?

Perhaps he didn’t. Maybe all he knew was that Jungkook was from Yoongi’s guild. Maybe...maybe that night when you’d overheard that man telling Yoongi not to reconsider his choice to send Jungkook was for another reason. Not because you were incompetent, but because it would be easy to kill another threat to Namjoon’s life.

When you didn’t respond, you felt a blow to your jaw, and then to your stomach, making you cough out blood as the breath knocked out of your lungs.

“Speak!” His hand pressed on your thigh, right where he’d gashed it open, making you scream in agony. He smiled all the while, his dark eyes glinting with nothing but never ending darkness. You wished you hadn’t stepped out of the safety of your keep.

But as he removed his hand from your thigh, you remembered.

“I’ll tell you.” You breathed, your wrist twisting as discreetly as possible where it remained tied behind your back.

You breathed again, your blood almost choking you, “I’ll tell you,” you said again, still eyeing him as you flicked your wrist.

Namjoon only watched you through narrow eyes, suspicion clear in them as he knelt on the floor in your front of you.

Big mistake.

“But you have to let me go,” You whispered, the blood rolling down your chin as the security of the blade that slid to your palm calmed you.

Namjoon laughed, and you began slicing into the rope, cutting it whenever you or he made a sound.

“Okay, darling, I will. As long as you tell me your name and your employer's.” You could see right through the lie. But you pretended not to.

“My name’s Y/N, and I work for Min Yoongi. Jungkook is my companion but he isn’t here to kill you-” You felt the blade snap the last of the rope, your thigh burning as you tensed it, readying yourself.

Namjoon’s brows knit together.

You smirked, teeth shining red with your blood.

"I am," And with all the strength you could muster, you raised your tied legs to your abdomen and kicked him square on the chest, his head hitting the wall as he fell over, the dagger in his hand flying across the room.

Quickly bringing your hand to the front, you cut as fast as you could through the rope that had your ankles tied together, the wound on your head thrumming for you to work faster, and your thigh burning as you stood up. You were losing a lot of blood, you could tell from the way you were instantly lightheaded.

You noticed your weapons on the desk across his room and made a run for it. But Namjoon was too close and grabbed onto your ankle, causing you to fall face first to the floor, but you braced yourself, palms coming out to catch your fall. He scrambled on the floor and began climbing over your body, your thigh rendering you almost helpless. Almost.

You waited for a second longer before turned around and raised your knee to his crotch, causing Namjoon to curl away, groaning, your leg fighting out of his grip before kicking him on his face, a sickening crack sounding as you broke his nose.

“You bitch!” He snarled as he grabbed onto his face.

Dragging yourself from under him, you stood up and gathered all the strength you could.

Your daggers could be replaced, but you couldn’t leave your sword behind. And neither could you leave him.

Spitting out the blood from your mouth, you felt your anger flare inside you. Anger directed not just at him and the men at the keep, but at yourself. Because you didn’t take better precautions. Because you were impatient.

You stalked over to Namjoon where he remained crouched over.

“Hey,” You poked at his shoulder with the tip of your sword. He rolled over.

You were angry at yourself for being so fucking ruthless. More than usual.

“That was very bold of you to think I’d let you live after learning my name.” And you brought your sword down on him, slashing his stomach open.

He screamed. The feral shriek had the windows shaking. You felt angry at yourself for leaving Jungkook like that.

The housemaids ushered to the room and did nothing but watch as you finished Namjoon off right there, his head cut off clean as you brought down your sword again. Blood splattered all around, your face nothing but a canvas of your own and your victim’s blood.

Carrying his head by the long locks of his hair, you strode to the door, the housemaids gasping as they made way for you. They didn't scream for help but rather watched you in silent understanding. Like they were thanking you. Thanking you for ending that tyrant’s life.

You felt your vision lightening, stars getting more and more clear with every step you took.

As you left the house, you noticed the rest of the assassins knocked out cold, along with the ones at the front door.

You raised the head to your face, it still contorted into a silent scream.

“Guess somebody had a temper, huh?” Your voice was slurred as you spoke.

The cloth was tight enough to stop the bleeding for a while, but not enough. Your head was bleeding as well, and you occassionally spit out blood and saliva on the side of the street. The wound on your cheek had begun to scab, but you knew it would leave a new scar.

The cold bit at your cheek and thigh, a dull ache on your other cheek from the punch following soon after. You moved your jaw just to check if it was broken. Thankfully it wasn’t.

It was early dawn by the time you’d reached the door of your keep. And just as you were about to knock, Jungkook opened the door, his eyes wide and alarmed at the sight of you. You didn’t even want to know what state you were in. Dried blood all over your face, hands and legs, wounds throbbing from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

“Oh my God, Y/N!”

“Hey...” You breathed, almost falling into his arms as you walked through the door. And you would have if it wasn’t for Yoongi standing right there.

“So, did you prove yourself?” His eyes were cold as he eyed you from head to toe.

You smirked with what little energy you had.

“You can always look out your window at the gates of the castle like I promised. It’s a trophy to behold, after all, he’s finally taken care of. There’s also somebody who works for him among us so you might want to look into that.”

He walked towards you, his face set hard. You stood your ground, ready for the reprimanding blow.

Yoongi raised a hand, and you remained there, unflinching, to his fair surprise. He smirked, “You’ve learnt a lot in one night. I wonder when you’ll learn to sleep with it.” His hand went down.

He was right, partially. The physical pain you’d gone through made you so numb you wondered if you no longer had any feeling left in your nerves. But he was wrong about losing sleep because of the rampage you’d gone out on.

You glanced at Jungkook with a small smile. Now that you knew his life was no longer in danger, you could sleep way more soundly than you did before. For a moment, you wondered why that was.

Jungkook had rushed to your aid instantly. He had you sitting on his bed, not yours, claiming his room was far warmer than yours and closer.

All you did was snort as he made you sit on the mattress. You watched him run about, grabbing bandages, disinfectants and plasters.

His eyes glistened as he worked on your cheek, the stinging put off with a gentle blow of air from Jungkook after every dab of the disinfectant. His jaw ticked, clenching and unclenching as he worked on your head. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he worked on your thigh. Thankfully the gash wasn’t too deep to warrant stitches.

But you noticed the change in his demeanour. And you made a sick attempt at improving it.

“You know, Jungkook, now with this kill, I’m going to be the talk of the town for a while.” When he didn’t respond to you, and kept his head down and focused on your thigh, you went on, assuming he didn’t understand what you meant.

“So, like, what are your thoughts on being second best now, huh?” You chuckled softly as you noticed his shoulders tremble. But when it went on, you frowned, “Kook, it’s not that funny- wait,” You grabbed his shoulders.

You struggled to bring him up, his sagging body being too heavy for you. But you managed to pull his face up, the tears on his cheeks catching you off guard.

“Why are you crying!?” You asked incredulously, you eyes searching his for answers.

But rather than a reply, he threw his strong arms around you, pulling you close to him, his chest firm against your cheek. You heard his heart beat rapidly, mirroring yours. But yours sped with embarrassment.

“Jung-”

“I thought I lost you.” He mumbled into your hair before kissing it. You were so taken aback your mouth sealed shut. He was showing you affection. Something you weren’t exactly accustomed to. But...

“Fuck, Y/N, do you know how scared I was?” He pulled back, his puffed face coming into view, his nose running as his lips trembled. There was anger lacing his voice, but relief overlapped it.

Shit. You never realized how much he worried about you.

“I...Jungkook, I didn’t- I’m sorry, I was stupid,” Your eyes darted to the floor, while your cheeks flushed with colour and a fresh bruise.

“You were even more stupid than you usually are!”

“Hey!”

But he hugged you again instead, his nose nestling into the crook of your neck, silently breathing you in. His hand remained strong on your back, and you couldn’t handle the way it made you feel. So you said-

“You look super ugly when you cry, by the way.”

He laughed softly, his breath hitting your neck, making the hair on your arms stand.

“Well, you look even more ugly when you’re all beaten up.” He smiled through his tears, a hand caressing the cut on your cheek.

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, Jungkook, thank you for your sympathy, I appreciate it.”

When he didn’t respond, you asked quietly, a hand coming to hold his.

“Are you upset with me?”

He crossed your fingers with his, holding onto your hand so tight as though you were going to disappear any moment.

“Very. And I’m going to be clear about that the next time we train.”

You feigned a hurt look, earning a chuckle from him, the sound relaxing your bones, warmth radiating through you.

When he embraced you again, you realized he was the one who was always there for you. You had proved a point today, but in some way, he had proved one, too.

"You know I love you right?" He mumbled into your hair.

You blinked.

HAPPY JK DAY TO MY HUSBAND FROM A PARALLEL UNIVERSE :D

#holy shit #thats long #prove you wrong #jungkook #jungkook x reader #assassin au #bts #bts scenarios #bts imagines #namjoon #yoongi #rm #suga #bts assassin #bga #bangtan boys #jeon jungkook

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madefate-a · 6 years

Text

that’s just who i am this week. | fic.

↳ there are sayings about earthly pleasures, probably.

Shiro doesn’t think much about the Garrison. Which would make more sense if he wasn’t, by now, actually there. He’s spent the three days back on earth not thinking about much of anything beyond the tangible details: the things that have to get done, the introductions, the explanations. The first night, he suspects, is as much a blur for the memory-capable members of his team as it is for him, still trying to understand how this body works. How bodies works. How all of this works.

It didn’t occur to him to ask about the rooms he’d once occupied a few lifetimes ago -- it was Officer Harrison that mentioned, offhand and quiet, that they’d been turned over the next academic year. Reasonable, Shiro thought, and strange that Harrison ( a memory: Harrison slid the keycard over to him, carefully not talking about how the passcode written on it was a burner for the simulation; a glitter in his eyes when Shiro earned his commendation, a hand on his shoulder at Shiro’s thanks ) would couch his words so carefully -- soft and hesitant, the way ( he thinks ) one might approach a wounded animal.

Perhaps it is not so confusing, then.

The first day is crashing, the second day is paperwork ( Shiro only realizes, after he wakes late, that all the work he requests to complete has been filed by Sam Holt and something rustedly aching and affectionate swells in his chest ), and the third is: storm clouds gather at the horizon, the the packed desert sand is cool, and he tries to remember what it had felt like, to sit in this common area of the Garrison with its overly familiar couches and the view from the window he’d committed to memory.

Some of the team is here. Keith is here, and Shiro is -- grateful, most likely, but the fog that had been so pleasant upon waking is starting to feel like a stranglehold, letting only a vague frustration permeate its mass. If he had the energy, he’d hate himself for not understanding why comfort of family is evading him. Hunk and Lance look too energized, Shiro thinks, talking about something he doesn’t have the wherewithal to eavesdrop on.

Beside him, the couch dips with the weight of someone sitting there. Shiro sees Keith react before he can, and when does it’s languid -- slow and then stopping altogether as he looks at the woman who’s taken up residence there.

❛ --- Camila ? ❜

❛ Hey, you didn’t forget me in space ! ❜

It would feel entirely surreal if the surreality wasn’t the thing that manage to fork like lightning through the blanket of fog he’s been shrouded in. Idly, he notes that Hunk and Lance have fallen silent, and he can almost feel Keith’s alertness behind him. Camila’s voice is not muted around the edges; her cadence has always been low and clear, cutting through the background noise, glittering with irrepressible enthusiasm.

It sounds precisely like he remembers it. He realizes that he does, in fact, remember it.

❛ Apparently, ❜ he says, and it’s not a joke in and of itself but he couches it like one. Shiro can’t see any tension in Camila’s posture, but he is aware in that moment that they are not alone. It strikes him that this is something he should solve, if only because he instinctually reacts to the boys’ silence and the presence of Keith behind him that he does not want to ignore.

He shifts, turning around to the team that’s present. ❛ Guys, I’ll be back in a sec. We’re gonna take a walk. ❜

❛ Sure, sure. ❜ It’s Hunk’s reply that comes first, easy and sure and guiding Lance’s attention back to him. Shiro shoots him a look that he hope is translated well in this body -- relief and gratitude, and the kind of fondness that is inseparable when it comes to this team. Maybe Hunk gets it, because he smiles. Which frees Shiro up to look over at Keith -- and he doesn’t know what he wants to convey.

It takes a longer tick, but Keith just shrugs and turns to absently gazing over at Lance and Hunk, who have resumed their previous conversation. Shiro is not sure to make of anything, not sure if all of this ( existing ) is objectively hard or if he’s making it so.

❛ We could -- ❜ Camila starts, eyes wide and earnest. Shiro shakes his head and pushes against the back of the couch to stand.

❛ Nah, I could use a chance to stretch my legs. If you’re up for it ? ❜

She barks a little laugh, a low whuffing sound, and he remembers it too. The only difference is that when she stands, fluidly, she tenses as if to offer him a hand up and he rocks to his feet before she can make up her mind.

There’s no surprise that she looks entirely at ease in these halls. There is some that Shiro does not feel lost as he keeps up with her, even if he does not recall the specific memories that decorate the paths they take ( midnight runs, slipping out the door to see a desert with the endless sky stretching above them, climbing up to the roof, rehearsing recruitment skits together -- )

❛ So I hear you guys have been busy. ❜

❛ Yeah, you’re not wrong about that. ❜

Camila’s voice is unapologetically what it has been, but Shiro can feel the way they pick carefully through what could be said -- they look different than they did when they were younger, but Shiro is aware that he looks unignorably so. And there are the things that lurk on the horizon: there are fighting alien factions, there are threats that loom unavoidable and larger than the Garrison could ever imagine.

The news that had circulated of his prematurely presumed death.

❛ I definitely owe Commander Holt something, ❜ Shiro says instead. ❛ He’s taken care of most of my stuff since we got back. ❜ ( it dawns on him, in that moment, that Sam has probably cushioned all of this -- their return, the shock of it, the questions and experiments they’d have faced without his intervention. )

For her part, Camila seems to have picked up on his tone and follows it like a river pulling with the current. ❛ Oh please, like he’d ever accept anything from you. Or anyone. ❜

❛ He should, ❜ Shiro says -- petulantly. ❛ I can’t write with my left hand. ❜

It had been unintentional, teasing and drenched in his personal brand of less than kind humor, and it could be too much for someone he hasn’t seen in -- however long it’s been.

Camila doesn’t pause; she laughs, full and loud.

Shiro grins.

❛ Yeah, Iverson wouldn’t buy that excuse. If you were really prepared, you’d have learned a long time ago, Junior Officer. ❜

❛ Hey, I was promoted ! ❜

❛ Sorry, sorry. ❜ Camila’s grinning too. They are paused by one of the big windows that they’d shimmied open one night -- three of them, Joaquim had been there, too. Shiro draws a deeper breath than he’d been able to take for days.

At the same time --

❛ Hey, d’you want to do something -- ? ❜ Camila asks.

❛ D’you wanna get really drunk tonight ? ❜ Shiro asks.

In the end, Shiro only tells Keith and Coran that he’s slipping out that evening. Leaving to do -- anything without telling his brother sits uneasily in his stomach. It still does, when he finds the words -- it feels ungrateful and worrying. But Keith gently places his hand on his shoulder and it feels like acceptance and permission in one, and since Shiro doesn’t have the resources to unravel these developments then, he just takes it.

And it doesn’t feel like a big deal ( or, it shouldn’t, because a memory: the world does not seem so large now that they have traversed in the dark so often, slipping away without permission, the desert falling away from them underneath the motor of Shiro’s bike ) and certainly not something to tell the team. So he gives the information to Coran and makes a quiet, surreptitious exit when he won’t be missed.

They don’t take a bike. They take a cab. The bar is lit up with the same golden neon lights as the last time he saw it and his throat closes a little at seeing it -- crossing its threshold with this body that he doesn’t know beyond its power to taint everything around it.

But then he’s four tequila shots in and fuck it.

❛ They took my fuckin’ arm, Cami. ❜ He’s draped over the counter, the follow up beer mostly drained in front of him. At least eight shot glasses glitter on the counter in front of them in the light from the running karaoke screen behind the bar. Cami makes a whining sound, half sympathetic and half completely amused.

❛ The whole thing? ❜

❛ The whole thing! Even the shoulder. Who takes an arm ? ❜

❛ A whole arm, ❜ Camila reminds him.

❛ A wholeass arm ! ❜ Shiro knocks back the rest of the bottle and signals the bartender to send another one down to him. ❛ Y’ want -- ? ❜

❛ ‘M not done with this one. ❜

Shiro waits until the cold glass is under his fingers before groaning, loud and low.

❛ It was fine, Cami. ❜

❛ Your whole arm? It was? ❜

❛ No, it was broken in three places. But like, fuck. ❜

❛ They don’t have space hospitals in -- uh, in space ? ❜

Shiro chokes on his drink and it turns into a laugh, wheezing and wet with beer, undignified, snorting and burning until his eyes tear up and he feels Camila surrender and laugh, collapsing in on herself the way she does when she laughs even though she doesn’t know why it’s funny and he can’t remember why it’s funny.

❛ You’re going to actually kill me, ❜ he gasps, ❛ ‘N I don’t know how many lives I have left in me, asshole. ❜

❛ I didn’t do anything ! ❜ She insists, but they dissolve into another wave of laughter, desperate and aching and alive.

It takes him a while to ease away from the fit, and his ribs ache with the effort, but even when he curses again and slumps back over the bar, he’s smiling.

❛ My best friend’s an alien, I think, ❜ he says, apropos of nothing.

Camila doesn’t miss a beat. ❛ You replaced us? Quim’s gonna fight you. ❜

❛ No like, space friend. ❜

❛ Oh, well then. ❜

They laugh again and Shiro’s eyes are wet with the force. ❛ I hate him. ❜

❛ Joaquim ? ❜

❛ No. ❜

❛ Oh, your best space friend. So why is he, then ? ❜

❛ ‘Cause I can’t catch a fuckin’ break. ❜

❛ Yeah, they didn’t put this in the job description, hunh ? ❜

Shiro doesn’t notice when Camila rests her head on the shoulder that’s still flesh until way after the fact, and when he does it doesn’t startle him. ( a memory: they are a little threesome, sprawled out on the roof, a tangle of limbs and everyone’s a bit of a pillow and they’re eating candy rings as they race to name as many constellations as they can. )

( then he just stops thinking for the night. )

This time, Shiro reacts first -- he recognizes the strains of the song before even Camila, but she’s only half a step behind and they’re scrambling to sit upright and talking over each other --

❛ That’s our song -- ! ❜

❛ Hey, we need the -- can we get the mic ? ❜

❛ Cami I can’t hold it I don’t have arms ! ❜

❛ You have a wholeass arm ! ❜

❛ I have a drink ! ❜

❛ Useless, okay hang on -- ❜

They’re a tangle of limbs, and Cami holds the mic between them as they start the whole bar in on mostly-screaming the lyrics that flash across the screen. But they don’t need them. Shiro doesn’t need them.

He remembers every word.

#( shiro. )#( writing. )#( vld spoilers. )#( shiro hc. )#alcohol cw #anyway -#look i SAID this was gonna win skdbg #ALL I WANNA DO IS WORLDBUILD SO SUE ME #pls give me garrison OC buddies !!!!#ill pay u #something #an amount #ur opinions on what the song is are valid #but ONLY if u also HC that it's either sugar we're goin down OR what's up #oh my GOD do i TRY #i TRY ALL THE TIME #IN THIS INSTITUTION

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