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desiraypark · 4 years

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Every Room

A steamy entry in the Clyde x Sherri series.

In “Headed West”, Clyde and Sherri parted ways from their family, and made their way across the highway to settle into their new home for the night. Sherri suggested that they get “every room” in their home “acquainted” with them...

Content: Very slow build-up. They barely even talk. Couple shower; post-shower moisturizing. Teasing; arousal. Just smutty stuff. Breeding kink TW (?) - Clyde and Sherri have both consented to trying for a baby, but Clyde performs an action that is typically associated with the “kinkiness” of (for lack of a better term) “breeding”.

Author’s Note: Clyde x Sherri’s new house will be based on this one. Thank you to @aloneandsleepless and @a-true-janian-reply for helping me choose their home! We’re gonna make it a 1.5 bath! Word Count: 2,073

The Porch...

It was the cutest thing. The clear encasement an extra layer of protection. They walked through the first door and stopped at the door that actually connected them to their home. With a purse on one shoulder and a beach bag on the other, Clyde watched Sherri flip through his key ring to find their new house key. She’d driven them home from the beach to give Clyde’s overworked right arm a rest. Clyde had a thing about letting his lady drive him, but she’d insisted.

Sherri felt Clyde staring at her as she wiggled the key around, trying to get used to the new deadbolt. She glanced up him. It was dark by the time they got back home but she could see his face. It was rested. Content. Lusty. She got the door opened and they walked into the dark room living room that still smelled slighty of fresh paint.

The Bathroom

As Clyde pulled down all their temporary blinds, Sherri stood over the bathroom sink, digging through their duffel bag for toiletries and hygiene products. She listened to Clyde’s heavy footsteps up the stairs. That’s how they would sound for the rest of their lives, or as long as they lived in the house. Heavy and close together thumps. She glanced in the mirror at him as he walked in with a few towels and wash cloths. He dropped a couple of cloths and towels on the sink, hung the other cloths on the bar in the shower, tugged at the shower liner, and tossed two towels over the shower rod.

Him and Sherri began to undress, still feeling bits of sand under their feet when they pulled off their shoes. Sherri realized they hadn’t put down their mats. She grabbed a towel from the sink, unfolded it, and dropped it in front of the wall of the tub. When she bent down to straighten it out, she heard the squeak of the faucet and the subsequent rush of water. They both walked back to the sink. He pulled off his prosthetic and she dropped a shower cap over her curls. Then, they grabbed their select bath products.

Clyde held the shower liner back as if it were a door, and watched Sherri stepped inside. He followed. Water dragged remnants of sand from their legs and feet—and soothed Sherri’s aching back muscles. Clyde stepped closer to her—partly to get more access to the water, but mostly to feel his wife’s body heat. He took Sherri’s face in his hands and kissed her on the lips. Then, they washed each other’s bodies with various soaps.

Funny, Sherri always said she wasn’t going to be the woman who teaches her man basic shit, but she delighted in finding the right soap for Clyde’s face when they were dating—not that rough ass Irish Springs bar he’d been using before. What was he thinking?! Only organic soaps for her and her Honeybunch’s faces. They were pricey. “Fancy soaps”, he called them.

The Bedroom

With lotions and oils (and arm) in hands and towels around their bodies, Clyde and Sherri walked into their new bedroom. They dumped their items on the unmade bed. Sherri sat down first and reached for her lotion. Clyde stuck a finger out and reached into her cleavage. He pulled back and watched her towel come apart. She pulled it all the way down for him, revealing all of her fresh and supple flesh. He held his hand out—palm up—and Sherri opened her lotion and squirted some into his hand. Then, he pushed her back on the bed—revealing all of her body to his eyes—and he knelt over her right side.

Clyde rubbed the lotion over her collarbone, her chest, and her breasts—massaging the cream into her already soft skin. His veiny hand slithered up to her neck, and he lightly rubbed the remnants into the skin. Sherri softly moaned. He journeyed up to her chin a little, just to rub his index fingers around the shape of her lips. Sherri gave his finger a kiss.

He held his palm up again, and she squeezed more lotion in the middle—more than the previous amount.

Clyde got off the bed and knelt on the floor. He patted slabs of lotion on her shins and her right ankle. He took her left foot in his hand and rubbed the lotion into her sole and up her ankle. Then, he rubbed in the slabs he’d placed on her legs, and massaged her right foot and ankle. With one more squirt of lotion, Clyde pressed deep into her thick thighs. Both times he reached the crease between her inner thigh and labia, he gave the lips light rubs.

Sherri stood up and motioned for Clyde to sit.

She poured lotion into her hands, stood in front of Clyde and looked over her shoulder as she slowly moisturized the back of her thighs. As she rubbed over her ass cheeks, she spread them apart—revealing the slick that had seeped out onto her labia. She walked back to him, with the bottle, squirted lotion in his hand, lifted her hair up and got down in a legs-opened squat position in front of him. As she bounced over a phantom dick with slow, sexy music playing in her own mind, he rubbed lotion into her back and neck.

Clyde couldn’t take it. He needed to be lotioned up, too, but he didn’t care. When Sherri rose, she turned to the sight of Clyde eyeing her with a stiff dick—veiny and throbbing. But Sherri only smiled. She picked up the lotion she’d placed beside him, squeezed some into her hands, and began rubbing it into his shoulders and over his chest.

“Baby...” he mumbled breathlessly.

She pushed him back, straddled him, and pressed lotion-covered hands into his abdomen. There was a light crack sound—he’d curled his toes. Sherri leaned down to kiss him, then squirted more lotion into her hands. She covered his arms and massaged between the fingers of his right hand. She kissed each fingertip.

Then, she flipped her body around--resting her crotch on Clyde’s abs as she rubbed lotion into his thighs. He lifted his neck to see her brown lips peeking at him from between her rounded brown ass. He dropped his head back and groaned.

When Sherri finished rubbing lotion into the soles of Clyde’s large feet, he slid to the edge of the bed, nudged her face up to his and shoved his tongue into her mouth. To Sherri’s surprise, he took a firm grip of her neck. The shock sent her hands to his thighs. She slid them down and massaged his balls with her right hand. Then, he released her neck. He reached beside him, grabbed his prosthetic and put it on and Sherri stroked his dick. When he got it on, he pushed the body lotion and the unused deodorants and facial moisturizers onto the floor, and swatted Sherri’s hand out of the way. “Every room?” he asked. She smiled and looked at him with seductive eyes. “Every room...” The Hallway With legs tight around his waist, Sherri bounced on Clyde’s dick as he kissed her and carried her out of their bedroom. He wanted to carry her into one of the spare rooms, but the image of screwing her on the floor flashed in his mind. He held on to the banister, lowered them to the floor, and let Sherri gently fall on her back. He peeled her legs from around his waist and held them up at the ankles. “Oh no...” she mumbled. Clyde re-positioned himself at Sherri’s entrance--tight from the positioning of her legs. He pressed beyond the lips--going, going, going, until every inch of him had disappeared inside of her.

“Mmm...” she whimpered.

He crossed her legs at the ankles and prodded dribbles of her juice in and out of her pussy. Each stroke drew breathless, high-pitched moans from Sherri’s throat. She reached out to grab something--anything. Only the carpet was available to her. She gripped the short fibers with all of her might, as she felt her husband in her gut. Clyde’s dick twitched at the sight of her pointed nipples--and especially at the sight of her desperately trying to find alleviation from the pleasurable digs he was stroking into her.

The Stairs Sherri was gasping for air.

Clyde walked down the stairs backwards--two steps ahead of her, with three of his fingers stuffed inside of her pussy and his eyes burning holes into her soul. He didn’t move them. He couldn’t...her thick thighs restricted the movement of his hand--so all he could do was curl his thick fingers, back and forth and back and forth, as she held on to the railing, wanting to just drop down on a step and come all over it. When they reached the landing, he pulled his fingers out and licked them.

Sherri fell to her knees, grabbed Clyde’s dick, and inhaled the whole thing until she gagged. She pulled away, bringing strings of saliva with her. Clyde rested his hand against the wall as Sherri bobbed her head and slobbered all over his dick. His fingers pushed through the coil and curls of her hair and rested on her scalp. She made sure that three of his senses were being satisfied--he needed to feel every stroke of her hand and tongue over his length. Every time he looked down, she was sure that his brown eyes met hers. He heard every slurp and every suck and even every gasp for air. “Ughhhh,” Clyde groaned. “To the couch, to the couch.” Sherri jumped up and skipped to the sectional. Clyde stroked himself at the sight of her bouncing cheeks and followed behind into... The Living Room Sherri sat on her knees, waiting for Clyde to sit. But when he sat down, he pushed her backward, held her left leg out and hovered over her pussy. He made out with his honey’s honeypot--running his tongue all along the folds and flicking it against her clit. Her leg instinctively bent at the knee, and he gave her some relief, allowing her knee and thigh to fall over her torso, exposing the crease where her ass ended and the back of her thigh began. Sherri grabbed his hair and began to hump his face. He let go of her leg and shoved his fingers back inside, curling them up until she came on his lips and fingers.

Clyde licked his lips, grinned, and sat up. Without giving her a moment’s rest, he slammed his hard dick inside of her. “Oh shiiiit...” she sang.

After about his third thrust, Clyde managed to pump his lady like a well--clear liquid rushed out of her, causing her to scream and squirm under him. “Fuck!” he groaned. He slapped her right thigh. “Ohh, baby you feel so goooood!” she cried out.

Clyde fell over Sherri. He curled his arms over her head and peppered her face with kisses--tenderly easing the overstimulation that waved through her body as he snapped his hips against hers. He felt his balls contracting and Sherri felt every spasm and every twitch. “Wher--” ”In me,” Sherri said. She clenched her teeth and pressed her fingers into his back. “Every drop of it baby. Every drop of it.” Immediately, Clyde emptied himself into her with an animalistic groan. Sherri ran her fingers through his hair and gyrated her hips in his direction, helping him ride out his wave. He collapsed on top of her and caught his breath. Then, he pulled out and leaned back. He watched his cum dribble out of her for a bit, before pushing it back inside with two of his fingers. Sherri blushed and closed her legs. When the press of her thighs caused more of him to gush out, he stuffed it back in again. Sherri flipped on her stomach and Clyde fell back on the couch. She let her legs drape over his thighs and he reached over to give her ass a hard slap. She jumped, then grabbed one of the pillows to rest her face on. “Every room, huh?” he asked. Sherri’s shoulders bounced and her laugh filled the living room. “Give me a minute.” ”I think I done wore you out,” he said. He ran his fingertips up and down the back of Sherri’s leg. Sherri giggled. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

#clyde x sherri

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bucketluvr · 7 years

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A one-shot of Team Prime learning the cons have a human and trying to 'save' them but there in no danger. They find out cuz you go to Jasper High and Knockout/Breakdown pick you up and the bots just flip out scared that the cons are hurting you. You're just hanging out watching movies with Sound Wave or listening to Star scream rant or helping polish Knockout. You aren't in any danger, you're just hanging on the Nemesis you're adopted family. The bots kidnapping you though. Transformers-4-life

“Hey, Breakdown,” you say, sliding into the passenger seat of his alt-mode. Then you whisper, as if someone might hear, “Jack and his friends are right behind us.”

Breakdown sighs. “Frag,” Then he speeds off, and Bumblebee races behind him. “I guess I should’ve let KO pick you up today.”

"Yeah!“ You say, back pressed into the seat. Speed wasn’t a virtue Breakdown had, but he sure was putting his steering wheel to use as he swerved all over the road to keep Arcee, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee off his tailpipe.

Your bag slams into Breakdown’s windshield, and he grunts softly. "What is in that thing?!”

“Just my homework…” you say, as your companion barely misses hitting a minivan full of toddlers.

“Ey, Soundwave,” you say into Breakdown’s comm. “We need a GroundBridge at…” you look at your location, trying to find somewhere that no humans will see. “…the field right off of Highway 56.”

The green energy of the GroundBridge appears in the cornfield as Breakdown wrecks through the crops to meet it. The Autobots have stopped trying to catch you guys by now, and you barrel safely through.

Knockout runs into the hangar, alarmed. “What the frag have you two gotten into?”

"Why were the Autobots going after you imbeciles?“ Starscream asks, arms crossed.

"Breakdown was picking me up from Jasper and they saw,” you say. “They didn’t do any damage.”

"Ugh,“ Knockout says. "Breakdown, come on.”

Starscream transforms, and tilts his cockpit to you. “Get in.”

You do, and he speeds off towards the impromptu ‘living area’ the Decepticons have.

_____________________

“They’ve taken a civvie!” Bulkhead cries as he speeds through the GroundBridge. Arcee and Bumblebee come behind him, and Optimus and Ratchet await further details. Each of the guardians let the kids get out of their alt-mode.

“What?!” Ratchet demands.

"Breakdown had them when we picked up the kids from Jasper High,“ Arcee explained. "We tried to get them—”

«Breakdown sped off too fast» Bee finished, with an angry pump of his fist.

"Do any of you know them?“ Ratchet asks Miko, Jack and Raf.

"Yeah, (Y/N) (L/N),” Miko says. “They're in my third period.”

"We must retrieve (Y/N) quickly from the hands of the Decepticons,“ Optimus says. "We cannot have a human life be extinguished by them.”

________________

When you get there, Starscream doesn’t transform. “Because of you and Breakdown I have to give Lord Megatron a report!”

You look down. “Yeah. Sorry, Stars.”

"You should be.“ Then he flies off down the corridors.

You dump your backpack on the giant computer console of the Nemesis, and look to Soundwave, who’s currently typing away on it. "Wanna watch a movie?”

He stares a you, and nods silently. A question mark appears on his screen.

"Uh…“ you think. "Iron Man 2.”

You see him pull up a file on the computer screen, one that he downloaded within a astrosecond. Next the familiar starting music begans to blare, and the movie begins.

Soundwave continues his work on his own faceplate, all while watching the movie with you.

A while later Knockout comes into the room, buffer in hand. “Don’t you have work to do?” He asks.

"Nah,“ you say. "I can do it during homeroom.”

“Well, can you help me buff? Breakdown with 'Screamer, explaining what happened with the Autobots.”

“Okay,” you say, and Knockout hands you a smaller buffer. You set to work on his back, a place he can’t reach all that well.

As the movie progresses, you hear engines down the hall. You turn, and Breakdown comes down with Starscream. As they transform, you see, to your horror, that Starscream is covered in injuries.

"Ugh, Megatron is a fucking bitch!“ He says, putting to use the swear words you taught him. Soundwave turns, ready to beat the slag out of Starscream, though it appears that already been done.

"Sound, just let him rant,” you say quietly. Then turn back to Starscream. “Sorry about that, Stars. I didn’t know he would—”

"How would you know? He’s way too unpredictable and he treats me like a piece of shit to begin with.“

You sigh, buffing Knockout’s shoulder plates. Megatron could be a bitch sometimes, especially to Starscream. You all just had to let it pass—there was nothing to do.

At least you had the less volatile members of the Decepticons to hang out with—as your friends and a home, seeing as you don’t have one.

________________

Its Miko who pulls you aside after school, more forcibly than not, and asks you to come with her. "Look, I’m friends with people who can keep you safe,” she says.

"I’m not in any danger—!“ You tried to tell her.

"Hush. They’ll be after you again soon. You’re lucky you even came out of there. Come on.”

Jack meets up with her. “(Y/N)! Are you okay?” He puts a hand on your arm.

"Yes, I’m fine!“ You say. "Now, if you would kindly let me go—” you say, shrugging his arm off.

“Come on, (Y/N). Bulkhead is right in the carpool line. We just need to make sure everything is okay—”

"Well, it is, so—ugh!“ You grunt as Jack escorts you into the Jeep—Bulkhead. Then Miko hops into the passengers seat.

"Look, I don’t need your safeguards!” You say, annoyed but not panicked. You shuffle through your backpack, trying to find your phone. It’s not in there. Shit, you must’ve left it in KO’s seat this morning. Fuck. At least the Autobots have a comm system at their base, you can use that, but for now you just have to suck it up and cooperate, because you can’t fight them alone.

Bulkhead sighs. “I know you feel a little afraid but—”

You don’t have the patience for their blissful ignorance. You’re safe with the Decepticons, so either they just don’t understand that or don’t want to accept it.

"I chose to go with them. I have been for, ah, a year now!“ You shout. Bulkhead swerves.

"What?” Him and Miko say in synchronization.

“Yes,” you say, “now let me out before Starscream comes to get me. Breakdown was waiting in the carpool line, but since you so rudely interfered…”

“Interfered?” Arcee asks over the speakers. Miko must’ve let the other known by opening up Bulk’s personal comm. “We’re keeping you safe. You don’t understand that the Decepticons are dangerous…”

You stop listening, and sigh. You just have to wait until you get to the base. Then you can somehow comm your family and they can get you out of here.

_________________

It’s been exhausting, but the Autobots have fallen into their recharge and your peers have gone home. You make a journey up to the Autobots’ computer console, and quickly figure out how to operate it. Pretty similar to the 'Cons’.

You dial in Soundwave’s channel, knowing he won’t be very loud and expose you. “Hey, Sound. I just wanted to let you know I’m at the Autobot base and I need a pick-up. I left my phone in KO’s alt-mode so…yeah. I’ll just send you the coordinates now. Okay, bye, Soundwave.”

Then you type in the approximate location, and send them to Soundwave.

They’ll be here soon, and you can finally get away from all the grueling lectures the 'Bots give you about the people you know so well.

You close down the console, and lay on the shitty blanket they’ve given you.

You can’t wait to see them again.

________________

A large crash emits from outside the base, in the morning. You grin, and the Autobots rush out of their quarters. Ratchet glares at you. “What’ve you done.”

“I called my family to take me home,” you say.

A jet, a sports car, and a truck barrel through the tunnel structure, the entrance to the Autobot base. Starscream is the first to transform, his heeled feet cracking the ground as he raises his missle. Knockout does next, his face drawn up into a fury. Breakdown is last, guns blazing and his primary shoulder gun aimed right for Optimus Prime.

You run towards the end of the ledge, and Arcee runs out to grab you but Optimus puts a hand on her shoulder. “If they choose to go with the Decepticons, they may.”

Knockout extends his hand towards the railing, and you climb over right into his grip. He doesn’t take his optics off of them.

"Don’t ever touch (Y/N) again,“ Starscream sneers. "Or we’ll kill you.”

They don’t say anything else before each of them transform and drive off, taking them with you.

You recline in Knockout’s seat once you’re a good distance away from the base, and he opens up the comm so the others can talk to you. “Thanks guys. They were being huge assholes.”

"They were being inhospitable?“

"Eh. They thought they were being generous, but dissing your family and then giving you a blanket to sleep on doesn’t really cut it.”

"Rude,“ Knockout mutters. "Also, (Y/N), your phone is in my seat. It’s very uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, thanks, Knockout.”

“I couldn’t get ahold of you yesterday,” Breakdown said. “We figured out pretty quickly what happened, we just didn’t know where to look until you hit up Soundwave yesterday.”

After a long moment of silence, you grin. “It’s good to be back home.”

__________________

When you got back, it was full of questioning and rage-filled promises of revenge. Knockout planned to make sure you kept your phone out of his crooks, and Breakdown made sure to park at the from of the carpool line, even if it meant bludgeoning a couple cars on the way. Lots of movies were watched that night.

#knockout x reader #breakdown x reader #tfp decepticons x reader #tfp decepticons imagine #starscream x reader #soundwave x reader

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marvelous-heroimagines · 7 years

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Suspect: Part 3

Pairing: Reader x Bucky (soon) Word Count: 1.9K Warnings: Swearing

A/N: I tried to keep it as true as possible to the canon scene in CA:TWS. Sorry if the start of this part comes across as really bad/clunky or too explain-y. This is a bit of a filler chapter, but hopefully it’s worth it to set the next parts up.

Feedback is always appreciated. Let me know if you want to be added to the tags list.

Part 1, Part 2

Since your brave, but arguably stupid, actions at the mall, you’d locked yourself in your apartment for the night despite the protests from your friends to come out for a girls’ night. And you’d been hiding out all morning. But your fridge and pantry were devoid of food, and your grumbling stomach was pleading you to venture out into the world.

Just to be safe, you slide your DCPD issued gun into your bag and cautiously leave the safety of your apartment. Trying to force yourself to not be afraid of the impractical possibility that the men dressed in black were after you, you decide to walk to your local supermarket. ‘It’s broad daylight, I’m safe,’ you reassure yourself, but it didn’t stop you from glancing over your shoulder every half block.

You’re just starting to calm your wracked nerves when the sound of screeching car tires ring out from the overpass behind you. You whip around, your heart pounding against your chest so hard you’re frozen. The overpass is too high for you to see much, but you watch in horror as an armoured truck pushes a regular car along the highway. Your mouth falls open as you watch a human figure jump from the roof of the car to the hood of the armoured truck. You couldn’t see much, but your instincts were telling you that danger was imminent.

It isn’t until you watch the car become airborne and roll that you’re able to snap out of your shocked state. Everyone around you is frozen, staring at the unbelievable scene plays out above you.

“Run!” you scream at them, the policewoman in you finally coming into action. Something in your gut felt wrong. This wasn’t just an everyday accident. This could turn fatal at any second. The people around you finally tear their eyes away from the overpass just as a fireball throws a man off the bridge.

A family of four had just spirited away when the man collides with a bus, and the bus collides with a truck, flipping it; landing right where the family had been standing. Before you can jump into action and aid in the bus rider’s safe escape, a barrage of bullets rings out on the bridge. It takes everything in you to tear your attention away from the overpass, knowing that you had to help people on the ground.

The people that were helping injured riders out of bus only glance at you before making room and you start pulling people out. But the sound of explosion pulls your attention back to the bridge. Your brain takes a moment to register what you’re seeing. A completely masked man standing on the edge of the overpass, nothing about his appearance tells you who he could be, but his metal arm sends a chill down your spine. He ducks behind the railing, and you force yourself to concentrate on helping the public.

“Go, go!” you urge people, who follow your orders as soon as you yell them. Even more bullets sound out, this time too close for comfort. Your hands start working faster, feeling the urgency to get people to safety, all while flinching with each shot fired from the bridge; and someone on the ground? You remember the gun stashed in your bag, “You got this?” you ask the people around you helping the injured. They give you quick nods and you hastily feel around your bag for your gun. ‘Goddamn!’ you scold yourself, ‘Stop putting so much shit in your bag,’

You finally feel the cold metal of your gun, and pull it out. But when you ready yourself to face the hail of bullets, they stop. You watch as a woman sprints past you, her red hair whipping around her face. Watching her for a moment, the curiosity gets the better of you, and you inch around the tipped bus. Which was a bad idea. Your mouth falls open when you watch the metal armed man jump from the overpass and land on the roof of a car. He doesn’t even stumble, just stomps down the hood and starts his pursuit.

That’s when your survival instincts kick in. He was a predator and you definitely felt like prey. Before your brain can make any decisions, your legs start moving as fast as they could move. You run, not sure where, just away from the man that looked like a thing of nightmares.

Choosing an abandoned car as a hiding spot seemed like a good idea at the time, that was until other men dropped from the overpass and opened fire on the tipped bus. The metal armed man doesn’t flinch, unlike you, he just keeps walking - stalking - his prey. Your head is darting back and forth from the bus to the metal armed man.

Your stomach drops when you see a man dive out of the bus, shattered glass flying everywhere. Pushing off the car, you make a start to defend him, but you’re stopped in your tracks when you see him pick up a round piece of metal. The Captain America shield. The gun clad men were shooting at Captain Steve Rogers. Your head snaps back to where you’d seen the red headed woman disappear; Black Widow.

You weren’t able to actively help them yesterday, but today you could. Your hands tighten, and you’re reminded of the handgun you were grasping. Glancing back at Captain Rogers, you see that he seems to be holding his own, so you choose Black Widow. She may be one of the strongest, non-powered Avengers, but something about the metal armed man made you choose to help her. It was something about him, something that seemed cold and mechanical. Something that told you he wouldn’t even blink when given the opportunity to kill his prey.

Turning back to make sure that Captain Rogers still had a handle on his situation, you see he does, and take off running. You couldn’t move very fast, your instincts forcing you to keep your head down and crouched, but it was faster than the metal armed man was moving. In a matter of minutes, you’d caught up to him.

Adrenaline was now pumping through your veins so fast you swear you could feel it, and you become more confident. Standing up, you lift your gun, bringing his skull into your sights. But before you can move your finger to the trigger, a police car explodes in front of him. You flinch, stumbling backward until your back meets a solid brick wall to flatten against. You hadn’t noticed him fire a RPG at the moving vehicle, not letting anything or anyone get in his way.

Pausing, you wait to see what his play is. He only continues on, reloading his weapon with another grenade. Your breathing hitches as you notice him stalking towards a street that was still full of people. Making sure to keep your distance, you follow him, your gun aimed and ready for if he sets his sight on the public.

Thankfully, people quickly flee the scene, screaming and crying. But he doesn’t seem to notice, casually continuing on his way. Suddenly he stops, his head tilting to the right. This was your chance.

Slowly breathing in and out, you straighten your arms, readying yourself to fire a shot. Your finger moves to the trigger and you take one last breath, tilting your chin down to perfect your aim.

Your shoulder in yanked back, forcing the air out of your lungs and your heart to slam against your ribcage. Spinning around, you don’t even bother looking before you aim at your attacker.

“Hey!” Dale exclaims, holding his hands up in surrender, “It’s me,”

You let out a sigh, and lower your gun. An explosion sounds behind you, forcing you to duck your head. Dale grabs you and pulls you around the corner of a building.

“Are you fucking crazy?” he scolds,

“No,” you say bluntly, “So this guy came out of nowhere. I can’t see his face, but he’s ruthless. Do you have your gun?” you rush through your words, drenched with urgency,

“What? Slow down!” he grabs your shoulders, “Breathe,”

You let out a frustrated huff, not sure why Dale wasn’t feeling your urgency, “This guy, metal arm, masked face. He’s terrorising the streets!”

“And you think you can stop him?” Dale cocks an eyebrow at you,

“Someone has to!” you’re growing frustrated by the second, “He’s already tried to kill Captain America and now he’s after Black Widow! C’mon, we have to help,”

You turn to lead the two person charge, but Dale grabs your wrist before you can get away, yanking you back to him, “Did you just say Captain America and Black Widow? The fugitives that we’re supposed to report,”

‘Fuck. Shit. Motherfucker,’ you curse yourself. In your hurry, you hadn’t even remembered that everyone else considered Captain Rogers a criminal still. You had to cover your ass, “Uh, yes. But Chief said they’re wanted for questioning, and alive. So we can’t very well have this... monster killing them,”

“Chief also said to call it in if we see them,” Dale reminds you, “Which is exactly what I’m going to do,”

“No, we have to-”

“Y/N,” his voice harsh and dominating, “You will get killed. The Asset doesn’t like people interfering with his missions. You’ll be a target next,”

“The Asset?” you furrow your brows at him. Dale’s cheeks flush red for a second before he turns away from you,

“I’m calling it in. Don’t move,” he demands.

You watch your partner with scepticism. How did he know who the metal armed man was? Why did he know him as ‘The Asset’? Things were starting not to add up. Taking a couple of tentative steps forward, you make sure to look nonchalant as you try to eavesdrop on Dale’s call.

“Rumlow,” Dale says, sounding robotic, “I have eyes on The Winter Soldier. Rogers and Romanoff are nearby. You’d better get strike down here,”

Dale hangs up and spins back to face you. You only have a split second to wipe your face clean of the frown and the confusion.

“C’mon, I’ll get you home,” Dale smirks at you, and you breathe a sigh of relief that he hadn’t noticed your expression of doubt and confusion. You give him a small nod, deciding that you needed to keep him close if you were going to figure out anything that had just happened.

“You sure you’re okay?” Dale asks, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, staring around at your front door frame. As much as you needed to keep your partner close, for answers, you definitely didn’t trust him anymore,

“Yes, thank you,” you lie, giving him a forced, sweet smile,

“Just get some rest okay,” Dale coos, “I know everything must be confusing, but it’ll make sense... In time,”

You slowly nod, and make sure to keep your neutral and you close your front door. Making sure to triple check it was locked, you make a beeline for your bedroom. Grabbing your laptop, you don’t even need to think about what to type. Your fingers are one step ahead of you, already typing out words like ‘The Asset’, ‘The Winter Soldier’, ‘Metal arm assassin’, and ‘Rumlow’ into different tabs.

You spend hours scouring through hundreds of search results for anything and everything you could remember. But the only real lead you had on the metal armed man, The Winter Soldier as Dale had called him, was conspiracy theory websites. Claiming he was a ghost, an assassin, a cold war soldier. You let out a frustrated sigh and slam your laptop shut. Simple googling wasn’t going to give you anything real. You’d have to utilise your badge if you hoped to get any kind of facts.

Next Part

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