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#totally-didn’t-think-of-this-while-shaving-my-toes
hoffmannwrites · 1 year
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On My List
1  - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 + 1 Masterlist
Author’s Note: Last chapter was kinda a cop out but I just think it's really funny to think about Steve going on autopilot to save Eddie after almost losing him and Eddie being totally fine. Steve overreacts every time Eddie cuts himself shaving or stubs his toe for the rest of their lives, because it is his God Given Right to do so as a Loving Husband.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson
Description: 5 Times Steve and Eddie kiss as friends, and one time they don't.
Warnings/Tags: Everyone lives, Nobody dies, 5+1, Kissing, Fluff, Idiots to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, some pretty brief mentions for drinking, smoking, being inebriated (the gang is drunk here but nothing too bad, just in a fun way), uhhh they're gay your honor, no beta we die like Barb, let me know if I missed anything?
Happy New Year
The third time Eddie and Steve kiss is the first time they do it intentionally. New Years has rolled around and Steve has been goaded into hosting a New Years Eve party by Robin, citing “celebrating life”, “spending time together”, and “you’ve got such a big freaking house dude and you love to host!” as her reasons why it had to be at Harrington’s. Steve didn’t actually love hosting, he was just annoyingly good at it (he’s a Virgo, he was born for this). So they spend the 31st setting up the beer pong table (they buy extra pong balls too), putting out some random snacks they bought, and hanging just a few random decorations (Robin got her hands on a disco ball and Steve had never seen her look so excited). While they’re setting up, they talk about everyone who’s coming and Steve pointedly asks if Vickie is going to be there. “Of course she is, she’s my girlfriend,” Robin says nonchalantly. Everyone pretty much knew they were together at this point, but only Steve really knew. Robin and Vickie made a point not to be too affectionate in public, just for the sake of living their life in peace.
“First New Years together,” Steve continues. “Gearing up for a big New Years smooch? Going out with a bang and starting the year off right?” Robin blushes at the thought and is suddenly really focused on putting Doritos in a bowl. “We haven’t really talked about it,” she replies.
“Oh come on, Robbie. You don’t talk about it, you just do it! Don’t ruin the magic of love!” Steve adds, voice mildly muffled by him being halfway in the fridge, filling it with Tab. Robin just shrugs, but Steve isn’t letting her off the hook that easy. “Whatever, man. The spare bedroom is always open incase you guys want a little privacy,” he offers. “But not too much privacy! Don’t defile my home, Buckley!” he quickly backtracks, while Robin continues to just ignore him in embarrassment. 
By the time 11:45 rolls around, everyone is too caught up in their own little groups to notice the time is getting close. Max and Eddie have been debating god knows what for at least twenty minutes, Argyle is trying to tell Jeff about this car that runs on water, and Robin, Nancy, and Vickie are talking about the Iran-Contra affair, of all things. (Nancy really hates Reagan, and the second she is even a little tipsy, she will tell everyone). Steve is paying attention though, and makes sure everyone has a drink in hand so they can do a little toast. But Steve’s not really great with words, never has been. Eddie though- Eddie loves a big announcement. So Steve steals Munson away (more like rescues him, if the conversation they were having is as intense as the look on Max’s face makes it seem). 
“Listen. I wanna make a toast- announcement- thing and I don’t really know what to say, but I figured you’d be good at it,” Harrington says to Eddie, hoping he’ll understand what he means. “Aw, you like the sound of my voice, dontcha, Big Boy?” Eddie says, all smiley and squinty eyed.
“I literally never said that. At all. You’re just good at talking,” the younger man replies, acting like the nickname doesn’t phase him at all (it doesn’t, he swears. It’s normal to get all tingly when someone calls you that.)
“All right, all right. Anything in particular you want me to say, or should I wing it?” 
“Just that, I’m really happy that everyone made it out alive. This year was a lot and I’m happy to be done with it, but also happy to, like, start a new one with everyone, or whatever.” 
Eddie looks at Steve a little dumbstruck for a second. “That was kinda beautiful, man. I can work with that.” 
Eddie walks back into the middle of everything and climbs up onto the coffee table using Mike and Dustin’s heads as leverage. Steve tries not to freak out about the fact that there are dirty Doc Martin’s on his mother's brand new Ethan Allen coffee table as Eddie loudly clears his throat. 
“I would like to make a little toast before we hit midnight. This year has been goddamned insane. And I hope we never have another one even close to it! But some pretty cool things happened too. I got to meet pretty much the coolest guy ever, with a van who rivals mine,” he nods to Argyle, who smiles and lifts his can of Coors in acknowledgement. “We all got to watch the sweet flower of love blossom between friends.” He didn’t point to anyone in particular at this, but Robin and Vickie smirked into each others shoulders, and Lucas made googly eyes at Max, who punched him squarely in the thigh, but blushed anyway. “We pretty much saved the whole fucking world, through the power of music and also friendship!” He practically squealed, as the younger kids whooped and hollered, leaving just a few of the guests only a little confused, just assuming it was some dumb inside joke. “I finally graduated high school,” he continued, and the hooting only got louder for that. “But! But!” He yelled over the din quieting everyone down. He looked almost somber now. “Most importantly. We can’t forget. Harrington’s hair has never looked better! I mean come on, look at that volume! Let’s get a round of applause for that!” He shouted, while the small crowd erupted into applause and hoots.
Once it died down a little, he started up again. “For real, guys. I’m really happy we’re all here,” (that sentiment was especially impactful for those there who were in the know) “I’m happy I get to finish this year with you all, and even happier to start a new one. Here’s to ‘87, baby!” And with that, Eddie raised his can and everyone followed suit. He hopped off the coffee table and wandered over to Steve. “Did I do good?” he asked.
“Perfect.” Steve replied, the corner of his mouth turning up just a little. “And great timing too,” he gestured to the TV where Dick Clark was counting down from 60. Eddie automatically started counting down with him, loudly enough that the entire party joined in by the time they hit 15.
“3..2…1…Happy New Year!!!” He exclaimed, shouting wildly and turning to Steve, who just happened to be looking at Eddie like he had hung every fucking star in the entire sky. And it was Eddie this time who grabbed Steve roughly by the back of the neck with his left hand and crashed his lips into Steve’s messily. Steve was too surprised to do anything but kiss back, not quite adding in any tongue or anything, but definitely moving around enough that it counted as a real, bonafide kiss in his book. It was real enough that by the time they separated, Steve looked a little glassy eyed and heavy lidded and Eddie lips were pinker and maybe even the tiniest bit swollen.
“Can’t start the new year without a kiss, amiright Stevie?” Eddie shot him a wink and disappeared into the crowd with a flourish. Steve just stood there for a few moments, head reeling, eyes darting around searching for Robin to see if she saw what just happened. But as his eyes landed on Robin, the also landed on Vickie who was still kissing the other woman like there was no one else in the room. Steve smirked a little and turned to go find a conversation to join, still so confused, but content with waiting to debrief with Robin later. 
A/N:
I did some math (astrology) and I now Headcannon that Steve was born on August 27th, 1966 at roughly 1 AM. This makes him a Virgo Sun, Capricorn Moon, and Cancer Rising (which is why he’s so baby girl coded). It also gives him a stellium in Leo (which explains the hair and the being sexy) and Virgo (which explains the being a mom). Yes; this took me a lot of time to figure out. No, I don’t regret it. 
Doritos slap. So does Tab.
Argyle talking about the car that runs on water is based off my favorite running bit in That 70s Show and Hyde's obsession with that damn car and the conspiracy around it.
I am still made about the Iran-Contra affair and Ronald Reagan is my sworn mortal enemy.
1986 was the year when Coors got national distribution, and therefore the first year you could legally get it East of the Mississippi. (Also, go watch Smokey and the Bandit). 
I have no idea how NYE works in any time zone other than my own. Luckily, most of Indiana is on Eastern time. But for anyone out of ET, but still in America, wtf do y’all watch? Do they just air Dick Clark later? Do you have a different special you watch? Please enlighten me. 
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i’ve discovered the secrets of the universe. or rather, our dimension.
we live in a pocket dimension in the stomach of a flerken.
adam and eve were actually two poor bastards who got swallowed by one.
and well
here we are
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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years
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Chaotic Family Tingz - Bakugou Katsuki
Bakugou x f!reader ft. Older brother L/N Ryu and Younger brother L/N Itazura
Warnings: Cursing, Crack, Fluff, Tatted Bakugou bc ✨SPICE✨
Summary: You have a very….special family. You were nervous to not only bring your Tatted, motorcycle riding boyfriend to your home but also to show your very loving boyfriend your insane family. Unfortunately, the truth cannot be hidden for long. Unfortunately for your boyfriend, Bakugou, he learned the truth in a very L/N family way.
BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST
A/N: Heavily inspired by Good Luck Charlie. ALSO, I wrote this more based around Y/N and her life but Katsuki plays part in it. I still think it’s good bc imagine Bakugou being in this situation 😆🤣
You and Bakugou Katsuki have been dating for a year. You fell in love with the Bakugou Katsuki.
He who had a sleeve full of tattoos, who wore black combat boots and chains, who rode slick black motorcycles yet was a total softie when it came to you
Even though you had been dating for over a year, you didn’t bring him home for multiple reasons
1. You wanted to be sure he was the one before he met your crazy family, 2. You didn’t want him to meet your crazy family
Notice how we keep saying crazy?
Eventually, Bakugou got tired of waiting. He wanted you to be comfortable but he also wanted to know you loved him enough to think he was the guy you would want to bring home to meet your family
Meeting the parents and meeting the family is a big step and shows that you really want him as part of your life. It would mean a whole lot to him
And when he requested to meet your family and you shut it down again, he began to question you
“Do you not want me to meet them because…of me? Do you not want them to meet me?”
You looked at your boyfriend with a sad look as he stared at you like a kicked puppy
“Baby, no. Of course I want my family to meet you.”
“Then why haven’t they?”
“….Because I don’t want you to meet them.”
“What?”
“Suki! They’re insane! I’m just- *sigh.* What if their craziness drives you away from me?”
Bakugou laughed at you in disbelief. Leave you? Like hell he would. Bakugou’s done a whole lot in his life and you are the one thing he got right.
“Yeah no. Sorry princess but you’re stuck with me for life. I’m not going anywhere.” When he said that, he kissed your knuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips which convinced you to let him meet your insane family
He celebrated right in front of you
Anyway, what you need to know is that you’re family is….crazy crazy. Crazy as in things are never boring in your house because things are always happening
(Mind you, the actions below happened before you said yes to letting Katsuki meet your family)
Now back to what we were saying
Bad things happen a lot. Things like your little 11 year old brother, Itazura, always getting into trouble at school. In fact, this time he got into so much trouble that his teacher called for a parent teacher meeting
Not wanting to get in trouble at home, Itazura had you and your brother pretend to be his parents and go to the meeting
Now you said no in the beginning, but he blackmailed you by threatening to tell your parents you broke their priceless-antique wedding china and so you had to give in
It didn’t take much convincing for your older brother, Ryu, to join in on Itazura’s plan. Ryu was a very….simple person.
“You’re just gonna give in like that?” You asked him
“I mean, in the end it just saves time.” He said, referring to how Itazura will always find a way to get what he wants
“Yeah, that’s fair.”
And so, you and Ryu posed as Itazura’s parents. You dressed in your mom’s work clothes while Ryu dressed in a suit and put on a fake mustache for gags
You both presented yourselves along with Itazura to his teacher, who can barely see straight, and the plan went on perfectly. You guys got away with it!
That was until Itazura’s teacher, who was named Mrs. Iko, saw you at the movies on a date with Katsuki
And this is where it all goes down. Take a seat my bitches, and bros, and non-binary hoes cuz shits about to get real
(Shoutout to you if you get the reference ;)
*Ding Dong*
Your brother was sitting on the couch with his boyfriend when all of a sudden the doorbell rang, catching Ryu’s attention.
Opening the door, Ryu was met with the sight of Mrs. Iko. She took notice of his younger clothes, appearance, and mustache-less face. “Mrs. Iko? What’re you doing here?”
“Mr. L/N!” Mrs. Iko said with a shocked face and hand over her mouth. “You look so much younger! And your mustache has disappeared!”
Ryu grew visibly nervous at her words and gulped before letting out a shaky laugh. “O-Oh! Right! Yes, Uh- yes I’ve always been known for my Uh- youthful looks! And I just recently shaved- wanted a new look, you know?”
“Oh, well that doesn’t matter. I’m afraid I have some awful news.” Mrs. Iko said with a worried face as Ryu listened. “It’s about your wife.”
At that, Ryu’s longtime boyfriend, Daisuke, stood and walked towards the two. “Your wife? You have a wife?”
“No.” Ryu said.
“You don’t?” Mrs. Iko asked.
“Of course I do!” Ryu said, turning to her. Mrs. Iko looked around as if everyone in the house was crazy (they were) before speaking.
“Who are you?” She asked Daisuke.
“I’m his boyfriend.” He said. At that moment, you walked into the house holding Katsuki’s hand, ready to introduce him to your family, totally unprepared for what was about to go down.
“Hey guys! We’re back from the- GAH!” You said, yelping once you saw Mrs. Iko in the house. Mrs. Iko looked at you and Katsuki in shock as she pointed to you both.
“And here she is with her boyfriend!” Mrs. Iko exclaimed. Ryu felt pressured to play along and tried to save Itazura’s secret by keeping the husband act going.
“You’re cheating on me?!” Ryu said to you. “You’re a married woman!”
“You’re married?!” Bakugou asked you with an angry and hurt voice.
“No! No, no, no, no.” You said with a nervous laugh, trying to reassure him.
“You’re not?” Mrs. Iko asked.
“Of course I am!” You said, snapping your head to her. At that moment, Itazura walked in from the kitchen, but once he saw Mrs. Iko, he quickly turned back to go to the kitchen once more with a shocked expression.
“Geeeh!” He exclaimed before turning around, unfortunately caught by you.
“Uh- ITAZURA!” You shouted from the door as Bakugou held you close by the waist as a way of claiming his territory just in case things were in trouble for the two of you. Don’t worry, they weren’t. He believed you when you said you weren’t married but he’s starting to notice the weird shit that goes down in this house.
Itazura then came back, slowly poking his head in from behind the door as he stepped out. “Yes, Mother?”
Hearing you referred to that, Bakugou’s eyes popped before looking down at you. “Okay! I’m starting to see why you didn’t want me to meet your family.”
You nodded your head in a very ‘yeah…sadly,’ type of way.
“Uh- Itazura,” you said, walking towards your little brother. “Mrs. Iko has found out that your father and I are having problems.” You said in a ‘help us out of this you evil mastermind,’ type of way.
“Uhhh..and does she know that you guys are the reason I misbehave?” Itazura said, loud enough for Mrs. Iko to hear, hoping she would.
“Oh, I do now!” Mrs. Iko said sympathetically. Itazura came in like the evil mastermind he is and pulled out his fake tears.
“Well, maybe some good can come from all this pain,” he said with his fake tears and pouty lip towards his teacher. You faked a laugh before whispering to your younger brother.
“Hehehe…dial it down.” You said to him before turning to his teacher. “Um, Mrs. Iko, if you’ll excuse us, this family has some healing to do.”
“Which! I would like to do with just my parents and their apparent significant others,” Itazura said pointing to Daisuke and Katsuki.
“Welp! You should be on your way! Stay warm now!” Ryu said, beginning to escort Mrs. Iko out the front door by her shoulders. “Don’t wanna freeze off your toes!”
Unfortunately, right before the two reached the door, your actual parents came in. At the sight of them, you and your siblings flinched, sighed, and groaned before facing them. Luckily, Itazura came in once again to try and save the day in his lying ways.
“Grandma! Grandpa!” Itazura said going in to hug his actual parents to play his part. Your parents looked down to your brother in confusion and suspicion, well aware that your brother can get into some mischievous trouble.
“What’s going on?!” Your mom said, shaking off your brother’s hug.
“I’m Itazura’s teacher, I came to talk to his parents.” Mrs. Iko said introducing herself and gesturing to you and Ryu, to which the two of you scrunched your faces at being caught.
“We’re his parents.” Your dad said, gesturing to your mom and him. Mrs. Iko grew a face of utter shock before Itazura opened his mouth again.
“Hahaha, that’s right grandpa! You’re my dad!” Itazura said before whispering to Mrs. Iko. “He thinks he’s the president too.”
Your mom looked unimpressed at your brother’s lie until she caught sight of Bakugou in his white v-neck tee, and his big beefy arms covered in tattoos, holding his green bomber jacket, wearing his black ripped jeans and black combat boots. “Who are you?”
“Hey, I’m Bakugou Katsuki.” Your boyfriend said, waving with his gentler voice. Your dad looked outside and pointed to the foreign vehicle in their driveway before turning to Katsuki.
“Is that your motorcycle?” Your dad asked, making you nervous before you jumped to stand next to Katsuki to defend him.
“Um, yeah, about that-“
“I love motorcycles!” Your dad exclaimed with a smile.
“We’re dating!” You proudly said with a bright grin as you wrapped your arms around Katsuki’s as he looked down to you with a loving smile, loving when he heard you say those words to other people.
“Will you stop throwing that in my face?!” Ryu said, still playing his act.
“We’re not doing that anymore.” You blankly said to him with a dead stare.
“Great! Because I was getting a bit confused,” Ryu said and wrapped his arm around Daisuke’s waist.
And on that night, Mrs. Iko left, just as confused as Ryu.
“Alright,” your mom began, beginning to speak to you, your siblings, Daisuke, and Katsuki. “You, you, you, you, and you, sit. Now.”
“Uh, sorry,” your boyfriend said, “but I’m not your child. I don’t think you can tell me what to-“
“Did. I. Stutter?” Your mother asked with her devil eyes. Your gentler father stood behind her with a pleading look to your boyfriend to try and convince him to save himself. Katsuki felt his heart shake in fear at your mother’s tone and he opened his mouth to speak before closing it and taking a seat next to you on the couch.
“Mama Bear?” He asked you, referring to your mother.
“Mama Bear.” You confirmed. Bakugou nodded his head before relaxing into the couch.
“Okay. Now somebody tell me what’s going on.” Your mom demanded. You and Ryu remained quiet while your boyfriends sat in confusion. You all looked to Itazura who sighed before giving in.
“Okay, fine. I was getting in trouble at school and it got to the point where I had to have a parent teacher meeting. I didn’t want to get in trouble at home so I blackmailed Y/N and Ryu into being my parents so I could get away with it.” Itazura then explained.
“I guess somewhere along the line, Mrs. Iko caught me and Katsuki together so I guess she came here to tell Ryu, who she thought was my husband, that I was having an affair.” You then explained. Ryu was just sitting on the couch with his arm still around Daisuke before he raised his hand.
Your mother sighed at her oldest child being so..childish. “Yes, Ryu?”
“Uh- no I was just wondering if I could put on the fake mustache again.” He stupidly said with a genuine heart. You and your younger brother sighed in disappointment at his idiocy before turning to your parents.
“So? Are you going to punish us?” You asked your mom. She smiled at you sweetly before taking a seat in front of you on the coffee table.
“Oh, sweetie…..of course we’re going to punish you.” She said while placing a hand on your knee. She then stood to hand out her dealings. “Itazura, no video games, no sleepovers, no tv. Ryu, Y/N - no phones, no tv, no going anywhere after school. All of you, grounded. 2 weeks. We’re letting you keep your laptops for school work so if you need to communicate, use those. Am I clear?”
You and your siblings all nodded before your mother sighed and addressed the last thing. “Now finally, what did you say your name was, sweetie?”
“Oh! Uh, Bakugou Katsuki.” Your boyfriend said. Your mother smiled at him kindly before dropping that smile and giving him a look.
“Age?”
“18.”
“Grades?”
“Straight A’s.”
“School?”
“U.A.”
“Tattoos and Piercings. Why?”
“Most of them are to honor the people in my life.”
“Motorcycle. Why?”
“It was a gift I decided to not let go to waste.”
“Are you an asshole?”
“Only to idiots.”
“Why my daughter?”
“Because when she smiles everything in the world instantly makes sense to me.”
His last answer made you smile at him in awe as you scooted in closer. It also made your parents smile before your mom reached over to place a hand on his arm. “Welcome to the family, Bakugou.”
“So that’s your family, huh?” Bakugou asked as you both sat in your backyard on the hammock looking at the starry sky.
“Heh, yeah. A bunch of clowns.” You said, resting your head on his shoulder as his arm held you close.
“I don’t think so. They seem fun.” Bakugou said, trying to uplift your spirits.
“Fun. Crazy. Same shit I guess.” You said causing you both to laugh. Katsuki sighed in gratitude at finally getting to meet your family and allowed his head to drop on your own. “Umm..you’re not gonna leave me though..right?”
“Never.” He said with a small laugh and kiss to the crown of your head. “Like I said, you’re stuck with me. Besides. I now know if I’m ever bored, your family will always be around. S’like free entertainment.” He said making you giggle. “Plus, Itazura doesn’t seem so bad. I don’t know, might wanna pull a few pranks on him just to teach him a lesson.”
“Aww, baby.” You said kissing his cheek. “No you don’t, it’ll backfire on you and he’ll set your ass on fire. Doesn’t matter if you’re 5 years older than him.”
Bakugou widened his eyes in offense before chuckling and cuddling in closer as you both swung on the hammock. That was when you raised your head to look at him. “So…when can I meet your parents?”
Bakugou’s eyes once again popped as he thought about his timid father who was a doormat to his demonic mother. “Uh…I don’t know..They’re kinda…insane.”
Here we go again.
Taglist: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101 @ebiharachan @is-this-ash @iris-shihabi @sxturn-stars @isolight @lanantoine @whatdidshesayyy @qtsuki @lazyafgurl @dessykcm @misssugarless @unicornlover25 @sweethcnvy @hanamura-manami @thisuserlovesyouandyouandyou @ssurewhynottt
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datawyrms · 3 years
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snap
It is The Day I post my Invisobang fic! it was a wild ride to write everything and not post. This is actually the second fic I did, as the first fell into my pit of ‘i hate it now’ and will sit in limbo for the rest of eternity. I teamed up with Spirit ( @ghostportals ), who has done some accompanying art! That, and Red @redead-red saved my bacon by doing some betaing last moment, so tell em they’re great too. Hope you’re all enjoying the flood of finished fics and art this week! Only the first chapter is here, the rest is posted on my Ao3 and complete. hope you enjoy!
One careless fall changed Danny's life forever. He was kind of hoping one fall like that was enough for any lifetime. Clearly fate disagreed.
It's fine though! He's got this. He's fine. He can totally explain why he ran off with his own body to mom and dad.
The stairs had always been a little too steep, a titch too narrow, but he was used to them. Jazz worried too much- the whole Fenton family knew how to take them two steps at a time. He wasn’t going to admit she might have a point just because he’d slipped one time. He wished there was a railing to catch himself with- it would have spared him some of the pain of his head knocking on the stair.
It didn’t hurt that much. Plenty of ghosts hit harder, and far more frequently.
“Took a bit of a spill eh, Danno?”
Great, dad saw him slip like he was three again. He wanted to speak, wave his behemoth of a father off before he got tangled up in some long lecture about whatever they were working on down here. Just had to sit up.
He was a little stunned or something. All those late nights made his limbs rebel when he wanted them to hurry up. Come on, before he tries to help and accidentally shaves his hair off with some anti-ghost stepladder or something.
His arms stubbornly rejected his internal horror story. His attempt to say ‘I’m fine’ was more a gurgle than anything. Way to go, Fenton. Do everything to get dad to worry! Really using those genius genes. Jazz probably stole his anyway, or they got fried in the accident. Come on! A bit of self berating should have him sitting bolt upright by now. Maybe his arm twitched. He felt something move, anyway. More like a muscle spasm.
“Danny? You okay?” The large man came closer, his usual jog slowed.
Of course he’s fine. He could see dad, sort of. He totally moved his eyes to see him better, even. Stupid ghost powers were just acting up.  It’s okay,  just give me a second to stand up. You’re worrying over nothing.
 Jack had already made it over, crouching to get a better look at his fallen son. Like he was trying to look smaller or something with how carefully he was moving. Where was all that slow, ginger movement when he was driving? Or trying to tell them about some new invention that might burn off your eyebrows?
 I’m fine, dad. He couldn’t get the words to come out, but he was just fine. He really didn’t like the strange look on his father’s face. After all, ‘Jack Fenton doesn’t know the meaning of the word fear’ or whatever random thing he felt like shouting when chasing after entities from another dimension. Come on dad, stop looking like that. It was creeping him out. Moving should be easy, a snap, but part of him didn’t feel like doing it. Apparently an important part? He could visualize exactly what to do, but he wasn’t sitting up. He swore he could feel his muscles clenching but not finishing the movement. Maybe they were testing something down here that just made all the ectoplasm hiding inside him take a nap. His ectoplasm was so fired after this.
 “Can you look at me kiddo?”
 Coaxing him. This was weird. Why wasn’t he just hauling him off the floor and laughing about how clumsy he was at his age too? Looking at him was easy. Pretty hard to miss him, with all the bright orange.
 “Maddie? Can you come over here?” His question was strangely stilted, not much of a bellow.
 Dad was going to get the wrong idea because his body didn’t want to cooperate. Great. Fantastic. He could feel the warmth in his chest, the sign his heart was still going. He was just fine, just a bit inconvenienced at the moment. Why couldn’t dad just be  dad  and do something dumb like pick him up with one hand while sounding way too excited about some new tool that he built?
 “What’s wrong?” His mom said, her footsteps doing the same thing dad’s had. Speed that suddenly cut down to almost nothing. “Danny, did you hit your head?”
 “I think he might have, he’s not responding. I didn’t want to try to move him-“
 “You did great Jack, it’s okay.”
 Gross. He hoped they didn’t get caught up in one of their lovey dovey circles while he was stuck trying to get his stupid legs to remember how to do things. He was responding! He groaned, and he definitely twitched a bit. Weren’t they paying attention? He tried again, a bit more forcefully and ignoring the pang in his neck. More of a jolt from someone with too much static cling than actual pain, really.
 “Should I call 911? He isn’t moving! He just stayed there- didn’t even act all tough for his old man!”
 Jack was panicking.  Dad was panicking. Over nothing! Why wasn’t mom distracting him with fudge or some random study? No one was being normal today. Danny shuddered, he knew he did, it went with the pulse under his skin.
 “That’d be great sweetie, just stay close.”
 “In case you need my big strong arms to help carry him, right?”
 “Just in case.” She wasn’t wearing the hood of her jumpsuit, at least.
 It didn’t make it more comfortable when she crouched down, biting her lip and staring at him. Like this was concerning. It was the opposite of that, he was a klutz, a gangly teenager, it was normal for him to be a bit banged up. This shouldn’t concern her, or anyone. The only reason it bugged him was the not being able to move right now nonsense.
 “You aware in there sweetie?” she said, rather loudly and clapping near his ear.
  Yes I am, but I can’t tell you. Maybe he could focus on taking a breath and it would kick off whatever turned off his mind to body connection. Had he done anything strange before coming down here? Not really. He could absolutely feel her digging her nails into his earlobe though, ow! More motivation to move, but something wasn’t getting across. Maybe he was getting a bit freaked out about it too. Only because of his parents being weird. He was fine, he had to be fine. It was nothing, less than nothing.
 “I’m just going to make sure he’s still breathing Jack, do you have anyone on the line yet?”
 A loud response, but not to her question. “No it’s not a ghost emergency! It’s a human emergency!”
 Of course he was breathing. He couldn’t look that bad from such a small fall. Just breathe out the words ‘Hey mom, personal space’ and they’d laugh and it’d be nothing. All this fussing was making his skin crawl but of course he had to have ‘special ghost freezing up’. Was it his ice powers? Like he could get his powers being snarky like that, appreciated it in a twisted sort of way- but it would be better around people who wouldn’t assume the worst? Like anyone else. Even Dash.
 “Tell the operator he isn’t breathing.” Maddie’s voice was cold and controlled, even as she went back to biting her lip right after.
 He was totally breathing. He could feel the air that ran in and out of his lungs, the swell and fall that other ghosts knew as a weak point, a way to slow him down. He knew what being doubled over, air shoved right out of him from a harsh blow felt like, how it felt like the portal again. Throat twitching, body heaving and trying to regain what it lost. The darkness that bit at the edges of his vision as every nerve went screaming  You’re Dying . Hated that feeling, shook the ghosts who did that hard once they were in a thermos. This was nothing like that.
 “He isn’t breathing, you need to hurry! My wife knows CPR- just tell them to hurry this is my  son , please”
 Yelling to hide the quaver in his voice. Like a kicked puppy yelping. It sounded so wrong. This was going to be so awkward after. They’d just...pretend this never happened, right? That’d be for the best. No, he was going to get grounded forever for some ‘dumb prank’, since he was fine and worried them so much. Which didn’t seem too bad if it stopped all of...this.
 He moved a little. A toe, he was pretty sure. More notably was his mother, carefully getting him off the uneven stair to be flat on his back. Trying to keep his head from moving, and she couldn’t see he was looking at her? When she was this close? Too busy trying to be calm. Who could be busy enough to think he wasn’t breathing or tracking with his eyes? Another twitch, another inward curse that he couldn’t get back in control.
 “Just hold on, help is coming.” She said, but the half ghost couldn’t tell who she meant, exactly. Him, dad or herself? Either way the quiet remark did not prepare him for the sheer force slammed into his crest. Like she wanted to slam right through him! Was it so much to ask that his parents stop nearly killing him by trying to help? Just try moving again and everything will be fine.
 He couldn’t keep the mental mantra up when he heard- when he felt his ribs crack from the pointless force. She was killing him, he didn’t need help breathing, he had to get it through to them no matter how much his body buzzed and resisted his need to move. He had to focus and push through it, ignoring how cold and wrong it felt, how it seemed like he was squirming free of something that didn’t want him to go.
 Her bone crushing assault stopped once he got his arm up, not even needing to touch her before she froze. The fear was wrong, out of place so he redoubled his efforts, twisting and struggling against himself, the sticky mass that wasn’t letting him act or speak to calm them down.
 The phone hit the floor. He heard it. So why didn’t dad say anything? Danny twisted, wanting to make sure he was okay. Still stuck. At least he had a hand free and most of an arm, the edges of his fingers tracing the tiles of the floor. He could brace himself that way, pushing down hard to try and jar his shoulder loose. He could hear air moving, like a harsh breath out. Good- breathing was good. Even when it sounded so harsh and low. 
 “Jack- are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Maddie moved back, giving him the space he wanted ever since she’d cracked his ribs. They still stung under his skin, hissing at him to keep his parents away before he managed to get even more injuries over something so silly.
 “I’m not sure what we’re seeing.” The phone remained on the floor.
 That didn’t seem right. He’d sat up, mostly. Half sat up, propped up with an arm. Still mostly stuck and uncomfortable, the snapping and crackling sensation still clinging to his free shoulder. Really, he felt worse than how he started. at least there wasn’t pain in ‘hah my body is playing freeze tag without me’ land. The pulling sensation made his head ache and vision swim to the point he wasn’t actually sure if he was still looking at the ceiling or not. He couldn’t go back to just being frozen though, that’d suck. So just convince the rest of himself to get up. No problem!
Were lies in his head always this unconvincing? It felt like yanking himself free of a too sticky slime, strands clinging and tugging back until they finally snapped, parts still stuck but free of the main mass. At least ectoplasm had the decency not to stretch when you got drenched in it most of the time.  Come on, focus and keep it together.  He let out a wheeze as the last stubborn strands snapped, ignoring how loud it sounded to properly reorient himself.
 Sitting up, properly, good! Parents staring with weird, half horrified expressions: bad. Very, very bad. 
“I’m okay, I just fell.” Danny spoke, he could speak properly again. So why? “Sorry for scaring you guys?” He tried again, trying to ignore the first thought across his mind.
 They kept staring. Maddie seemed to be recovering, shoulders starting to relax, but she seemed to be reaching for her belt.
 He didn’t sound right. No, that wasn’t quite right, he just sounded wrong for Danny  Fenton. Who he should be right now, he hadn’t been able to talk, let alone go ghost. This probably looked really, really bad. How had he switched, anyway?
Mom was reaching for a gun, wasn’t she? Crud. Now he regretted talking at all, how was he going to explain why Danny Phantom was treating two ghost hunters like his parents? Or how he managed to look like their kid. Maybe he could change back and convince them they were seeing things?
Yeah no, that was way too dumb.
 “Wait.” Jack rested a hand on his wife’s shoulder, causing her to stop pulling the weapon. He wasn’t looking at the ghost at all, just her. Maddie remained stiff, not able to ignore the glowing kid on her floor.
 Okay...dad was usually the gung ho one. Maybe he could get away with this? Danny tried to get a better grip on the situation. Felt a new pain, sharp and cold in his throat. Deep green scars clashed against his white gloves and ran all across his jumpsuit,  glow intensifying as the panic choked him into silence. Fresh and angry like back- back before he managed to stumble out of the portal when he died when the accident happened.
With his human arms just as scared below them, still against the tile. The damage looked old, half scabbed over with only a dull glow deep in the death marks wounds. His arms attached to the rest of his body- that he was half out of. 
 Why? How was his body still and silent while he was sitting and looking at it. He’s cold. His body is cold. It isn’t  breathing  there isn’t some other facet of his personality sitting behind the dull blue eyes. This isn’t how it works! If he splits, it’s just temporary, he can fix it but his other half- corpse is wrong.
The pulling and clinging at his legs doesn’t feel like slime anymore. Rotting flesh that wants to drag him back, smother him in a cloying warmth that will only remind him why it burned, how it hurt. He had to move, he couldn’t stay half like this, it would get better once it wasn’t like this.
It didn’t want to let go as he tried to pull away, ectoplasm getting snagged on every nerve and muscle fiber, each pause a reminder of the shock and pain of his end that day.
He knew he screamed when he pulled free and slammed into the wall, furious green scars still marring his jumpsuit where there should be none.
 What would Mom and Dad think?
 No no no no no. He spotted movement from them and acted. He couldn’t let his mom break his body more, or look at it too closely. Dad couldn’t see what happened! This was fine, he could fix this!
 He grabbed his corpse and fled through the wall.
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captainsimagines · 3 years
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To Topple A Giant || Chapter Nine
Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.
Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader
Part 9 of 10 ~ Mini-Series
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Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.
Warnings in this Chapter: strong language; use of a derogatory slur/racist language (not said by any main character); mentions of blood and injuries; angst!  
Word Count: 11,200+
A/N: One more chapter after this - I should really stop labeling this as a mini-series considering it’s already over 100,000 total words lmao. Thank you for staying with me this long! I love you guys soooo much!!!
~
Utah Merry Hotel, January 2025, 2:09pm
     “I’m being an ol’ sport, why can’t you?” You whine, stomping your feet as you trudged up the stairs to the hotel roof. “It’s our first serious stakeout in forever! I’m pretty sure Wanda shaved her legs for this.”
Steve shoots a flustered and unsettled look over his shoulder. He’s lugging the rifles and extra equipment on both his shoulders so you know he’s truly baffled because to even attempt a look over… well, that required real effort. He doesn’t answer, however; he continues upward. 
Bucky and Clint are following close behind. They’re tired, huffing every few steps and grunting while doing so. Finally, Bucky whines and throws himself against the wall dramatically. “Remind me why we couldn’t just get Wanda and Sam to lift us up there?”
Steve readjusts one of the rifle straps while he replies, “Buck, I told you not to skip leg day.”
“I skip ‘everything’ day. I’m just now employed as a superhero, thank you very much. The serum should be enough.”
“Are we even close?” Clint asks and passes Bucky on a few steps. Bucky takes that as a challenge though and hoists himself more steps before giving up again. 
You just watch in pure amusement. Makes you really proud that your thighs are stronger than theirs. “Just a few more flights.”
They both groan in unison. Steve has already rounded the next flight, no longer waiting on the three of you. It takes several more minutes until you kick open the roof door Steve had left slightly ajar. It’s cold outside, wind howling with icy droplets whipping through your hair. It’s only fifty stories up but it’s pretty high - you can see the tops of the trees, or branches really. It’s winter in Utah and most of the trees are naked and covered in snow. You hope Bucky and Clint, the dynamic duo no one saw coming, still have good aim in this wind after a year of vacation. 
“Alright. Buck - Clint, set up over there. Y/N, you’re over there.” 
“Aye Aye, Captain.”
You set up where Steve instructed. You’ve got a simple magnifier and some binoculars - you won’t have to do any shooting today, thank the Gods. Clint’s got his arrows and Bucky’s got his sniper. Steve’s waiting for a signal from Sam if need be - he won’t need to shoot today either. 
“Wanda and Sam will let us know when the cars pass the barrier. The tech cannot, under any circumstances, pass through the gate right over there.” Steve points to the giant, black coated metal gate. There’s no one on duty. You made sure to evacuate the area and any staff before. The tech these goons are bringing in is all stolen Stark Tech. And according to Happy, strict instructions are to ‘blow it to Hell’.  
“And if it does?” Bucky asks, grinning mischievously at Steve’s pointed look. 
“What’d I just say?”
Bucky laughs and puts his hands up in surrender. “Damn, Stevie. Calm thyne tits.” He goes back to fiddling with his rifle. “Blow the tires before they reach the gates but after they pass the barrier. Got it.”
“Peter, you in position?” Steve asks and adjusts his earpiece. 
You can hear Peter over your own mic. “Seatbelts look easy enough to break. I’m in position, I can easily pull them from the trucks.”
“Five minutes then.”
You all settle in. The cold has passed through the leather of your boots and your toes are paying the price. It makes you miss the rain of spring and the sprinkles of fall, when everything is drenched rather than frozen and your toes still have mobility. Your jacket is big enough but it scratches your neck every time you lean down to look through the magnifier. As the minutes tick by, you brave the cold and take it off. You’d rather conduct your part efficiently and without the constant distraction. 
“It’s almost forty degrees out,” Steve mumbles beside you. He’s looking over the roof balcony and into the trees. He’s squints and refuses your offer of binoculars. 
“So I get a sore throat.”
Steve rolls his eyes, “Tony put a heater in all our suits. You should have worn yours.”
“My suit is half nano. It’s excessive for a stakeout.”
He huffs but you ignore him, choosing to look through the rejected binoculars instead. He shuffles, and then there’s a warm weight enveloping your shoulders. It’s his sweater, cotton and baby blue, and he lifts the hood to cover your cheeks and ears. Your stomach flip-flops.
“Uh, thank you,” you say and zip it closed.
Steve shrugs lightly, “Don’t mention it.”
So you don’t. He doesn’t look cold besides or he’s just really good at masking it. It’s quiet now; you can’t really hear the quiet mutters of Clint and Bucky enough to join in and to not mention the jacket is eating at you. You opt for a casual conversation instead while you wait. 
“Soooo… how’d your date go last week?”
Steve clears his throat and turns to you, a forced grin on his face. “They, uh, they were sweet.”
“Sweet,” you repeat, nodding at nothing and cursing yourself for creating such an awkward moment. “Going on a second one?”
He sighs and his expression actually turns truthful. “No, don’t see that happening.”
For a second, you’re appalled. Who wouldn’t give Steve a second date? He’s an absolute catch and being a famous superhero wasn’t exactly a dealbreaker for many. Or maybe it was and Steve was blaming his alias once again for no fairytale ending. “Are you kidding? Who wouldn’t want you?”
The words leave your mouth too quickly to reel them back in. Steve’s cheeks turn pinker, both from your words and the chill, and he ducks his head low as he answers. “It’s my fault, really. They were sweet but I wasn’t paying much attention.”
“Mm, on your phone? Daydreaming? Were they a bore?”
Steve chuckles, “I pulled out my phone, like, once to answer a text but I was a proper gentleman!”
The tension is slowly melting and there’s a soft twinkle in his eye as he laughs. It’s been so long since he’s looked at you this way: on his own accord and not on order. “Bucky said they were, and I quote,” you lower your voice and look over at Bucky to make sure he’s distracted. “‘Cute as hell’.”
Steve gives Bucky a warm look. “Eh, it’s fine. Wasn’t the one.”
“The one,” you mock in a deep voice. “Who texted you that it was so important to ignore someone cute as hell?”
Steve hesitates and looks over the balcony as if wishing for an interruption. But the trucks aren’t near yet and Sam hasn’t given the signal. “Uh, it was Peter.”
“Oh, don’t tell him that. He’ll feel incredibly guilty if he ruined your chances at getting laid.”
Steve shoves your shoulder a bit harder than he intended and it makes you stumble back. He quickly catches you by the arm and holds you still, a sheepish smile painting his pink face. He mumbles a quick ‘sorry’, and goes back to lean over the railing. “It’s cool, he knew.”
You fake a surprised gasp, “Even worse!”
“He needed me to stop by the compound and I did. Really, it’s okay,” Steve assures and he’s speaking a little quicker. He fidgets with his thumbs and it looks like he wants to wrap up that portion of the conversation. But he looks over at you and sighs deeply, and he rolls his eyes as his upper lip tilts upward. “Ask.”
“What’d he want?” It makes your belly all warm to know he expects this enthusiasm from you.
“Wanted me around. Buck and Wanda were out getting dinner.”
“Yeah, but like, what for?”
He gives you a knowing smile, like you walked right into that trap. “You made dinner but Peter was too nice to say he didn’t enjoy it, so he texted me knowing I would like it. Knowing I had it before. He didn’t want there to be leftovers because then you’d be sad.”
You step back and shake your head like there’s a fly swarming around. It startles you. “You left your date… during dinner… to come to the compound to eat the dinner I made instead?”
“Don’t think too much about it.”
“How not?”
It’s five minutes when Sam calls it in. You groan in frustration and give Steve a look that says the conversation isn’t over. 
There are four armored vehicles and the magnifier illuminates three bodies per car. The targets will be hit starting from the last to keep the explosions out of each driver’s line of sight. 
“Target acquired,” Bucky mumbles and clicks off his safety. He closes one eye and settles comfortably as he awaits Steve’s signal.         
Clint tugs back an arrow, “Same here, Cap.”
“Wanda, you ready?” Steve’s voice is lower when he’s focused. He looks over at you, your hand up with an index finger raised, and waits. Wanda answers that she’s ready and Sam counts it down. The first truck crosses the barrier, then the next, next, and finally the fourth and you drop your hand in a fast swipe. 
“Fire! Go Parker!”
Bucky shoots the back tires of all four vehicles and Clint shoots his arrows to penetrate through the passenger doors. Peter works fast, webs slinging from side to side grabbing one passenger right after the other. Once the trucks are empty, Clint activates the arrows and you all prepare for the explosions. The fourth car catches flame first and Wanda contains the explosion perfectly, balling it up into a weak bundle of light and string. She does the same to the third and second, bundles extinguishing just as quickly as they burst. But the first car swings out of control on manual and the explosion is delayed.
“Clint?”
Clint leans over the balcony and squints, as if it would help. “I don’t know. It’s not going off.” He’s clicking the detonator repeatedly, holding it up for all of you to see. 
“Wanda, the truck! The truck! Sam!” You scream as the truck crashes through the gate and hurls closer to the hotel. The commotion is enough for Bucky to pop out from his cover and the four of you watch in horror as the truck still doesn’t stop. Clint has stopped clicking the button, but it’s no use. The truck finally explodes in an outbreak of debris and electricity. The Stark Tech reacts poorly to the strain, electric gusts of smoke fire left and right and rattle the building. It feels like an earthquake, shaking the already weak foundations and old brick. Wanda catches the bottom to better contain it and tries desperately to smother it. But the shaking doesn’t stop and the corners of the roof are collapsing. 
Steve leaps to grab and pull you away and just as quickly to catch Clint’s leg before he falls over the edge. Clint is thrown back rather harshly but Steve isn’t thinking about the abuse of strength right now - no, not while Bucky slips and hangs on to a rogue pipe. Steve crawls and latches onto his hand before the pipe gives way. He yells as he tugs Bucky up with only one arm, the other having to hold onto undisturbed brick. He won't let Bucky fall. Not again.
Bucky throws his leg up and over solid ground, and you go to help Steve pull him up. Bucky’s heavy and his metal hand pinches your skin bad but he’s safe. Wanda struggles to contain the electricity but she’s succeeding. The rumbling slows until nothing moves anymore. You collapse back in exhaustion.
“Well, that didn’t go as planned,” Bucky gasps as he rubs his face. 
“Is Wanda okay?” You mumble more to yourself and struggle to pull yourself back up. But the sudden weight of your body proves too much for the edge and in a horrible wave, you’re falling through. You practically file your nails as you try to latch onto falling brick.
“No!” You feel the scratch of someone’s fingers along your forearm and soon they’re digging into your skin, and it hurts but you figure it’s better than splitting your skull open. Pebbles of concrete are falling down onto your face and the smoke from the explosion is clogging your nostrils. You hang for a few seconds, like the person can’t believe they actually caught you. Then they begin pulling you up, lifting you to safety, and you claw the rest of the way only to tumble into Steve’s chest, shaking. 
He pulls you into his arms but they’re restless, roaming over your shoulders and through your knotted hair clumsily. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” His voice wavers and he’s on the verge of tears, it seems. His waterline is glossy and his lips are quivering. “Answer me.”
“I’m fine, hey. Steve? I’m good.”
He pulls away and his hands hover you like he doesn’t know what else to do with them. “I’m sorry. I should have kept you close. I-” His voice cracks and he swallows hard. “You sure you’re okay?”
Disregarding his words is difficult, especially when you feel a second meaning to them, but you force yourself to do so. It’s been such a long time since you’ve seen him like this. And each time you have, it was never because of anything good. “Y-yeah. I’m good, Rogers.”
Bucky and Clint look at each other, they look at Steve, to you, and back to each other. Finally, Clint breaks the silence and huffs a light chuckle. “Are we really THAT rusty?”
Present Day, 2025, 11:45pm
    The Montana skies are clear and free of passenger planes, allowing the Quinjet to swift easily on autopilot. You could never drive this thing and the building anxiety of that reality bubbles each time it makes an unsteady bounce. 
Steve’s laying in the makeshift medical wing and though it’s against protocol, he’s on a secure line with Dr. Cho. She takes her time, albeit working as fast as possible too, and her light voice is fairly calm. It settles you to hear her speak this way. 
‘I need you to use this disinfectant, Captain Rogers. Do not pour it on all at once… Good, now dig through gently and make sure the pliers are sanitized.’
Steve digs out the bullets himself and bites down on a clean towel. He’s biting down hard enough that his teeth make a squeaking sound against it. It takes every ounce of your willpower to not do it for him. The Montana skies are beautiful, at least. It’s a good distraction. 
Steve gives a rather painful yell as he finally plucks the second bullet, cursing as a stream of blood drips onto the table. He’s got such tough skin - miracle or serum - that the bullets didn’t pass all the way through. Dr. Cho moves on to how to properly bandage the wound but Steve begins to tune her out. 
Two years mucking through mud and bodies and getting patched up every other day has prepared him for whatever life may throw during this new century. Not much has changed, it seems. 
When the line disconnects, Steve can finally just relax. He focuses on the soft rumble of the engine and your steady breaths. 
     You hold your breath as you settle the Quinjet on the open field, only half of you actually trusting automatic tech. Steve coaches you the whole time too, the little shit, and promises you’ll never be doing that again. 
Steve stumbles and teeters and falls on the porch steps with a low groan. You let him fall because you know you’d only fall with him. He catches himself with the hand he’s been pressing over the bandage while the other still holds on to you. You fight the urge to crash down with him and bite your lip as you look up to the night sky. 
“C’mon, Rogers,” you swallow down the increasing worry, “We’re almost inside.”
Steve huffs a pained laugh and nods. He grabs your arm again and with his remaining strength, pulls himself up,
The inside of the cabin looks comfier than the outside. You help Steve to the couch closest to the unlit fireplace before going out back to turn on the power. There’s a thin layer of ice in the grass so just in case, you scope out the garage and make sure there are snow supplies. Not that you really know what the hell snow supplies actually look like, but there’s a shovel and you figure that’s as much as your brain is going to piece together. 
When you get back inside, Steve’s fumbling with the coffee maker and leaving tiny fingerprints of blood over every surface he touches. You don’t comment on them, just step back and discreetly wipe the counters each time he passes. 
“Figured you’d like a pot,” Steve says. 
It damn near breaks your heart how small his voice sounds. The fact he’s stumbling around the cabin making sure you’ve got your coffee fix while he’s nursing two bullet wounds damn near snaps it in two.
“Thank you,” you respond and go to lead him back to the couch. He moans quietly when he sits and again as you lay him down. “I hope you don’t think I’m sleeping here,” Steve laughs and tries to hide his wince due the uncomfortable rumble. 
You smile and touch your hand to his hot cheek. His body is working overtime fighting off infection and regenerating tissue. His cheeks are a lovely scarlet red and so is the beautiful bulb of his crooked nose. He’s a little shiny, like varnish over light paint strokes, and taking the fever like a champ. “I’ll help you to the bed in a little bit. Let’s get that fever down first.”
Steve sighs, defeated, but nods. He lays his head back on the pillow and once he shuts his eyes, you get to work. The bathroom is stocked with the simple necessities: aloe vera, vapor rub, heating and cold pads, dozens of towels, and painkillers. You pop two painkillers yourself before gathering everything and dropping it on a nearby table in the kitchen. The coffee is about done brewing so you fill up a mug with bottled water and set it in the microwave for two minutes. You dip a chamomile tea bag a few times once the water is heated. There’s no teapot - you’ll apologize to Steve later. 
Once Steve’s happily sipping his tea, you start on the medicine. You wet the small towels and lay them over his forehead and bare chest. You rub aloe vera on the other cuts he obtained from hand-to-hand and finally rub the vapor rub in the dip of his neck and just below his nose. Steve gives you this funny smile as you do so, scrunching his nose and wiggling it back and forth. 
“Vicks,” you say as you show him the small container. “Heal you right up.”
“I bet,” he laughs. “Stuff smells like what I think liquid morphine would taste.” A laugh bursts from your chest, your first real instance of calm during these last few hours. You ignore his protests and smother more across his chest. 
Steve settles deeper into the couch and returns to his tea. He’s got less sweat on his skin now but he’s still red. You go to pour yourself that coffee and return to his side. The nanotech is growing stiffer and scratching your skin but you refuse to get comfortable until Steve’s fever breaks. You’re still covered in Ernesto’s blood, the red now a hellish brown, and you try not to move your face much for risk of feeling the dry pull of it. 
“Steve,” you try, but Steve shakes his head and makes sure to meet your gaze before he speaks. 
“No. The less I know the better.”
It surprises you, makes you feel more guilty, but you understand. Not telling him the full truth would be beneficial in the long run. Still, your hands hug the mug closer to your chest. “Do you think I did something bad?”
His upper lip tugs upward, “Do you think you did something bad?”
You don’t think for long. There’s not much need to. “No.”
He nods, “But you care what I think?”
“Of course I do. You’re not just my Captain anymore - you’re my friend. I care even when I’m asking you if my eggs need more salt.”
“You trust me enough to correct your cooking?” He teases, but it’s a question disguised as another. 
“I trust you enough to tell me if I need more salt. You’re not correcting it.” He laughs and dips deeper into the couch. The bandage is bleeding through, only slightly, so you move to find the first-aid kit. 
“Hey, it’s okay. It’ll stop bleeding soon.”
You hum your disagreement. “I’m gonna keep it clean until you’re strong enough to shower.”
“You can always help me shower,” he mumbles into his tea. 
Rolling your eyes, you gently nudge his shoulder as you sit back down with the kit. “If you fall, I can’t catch you, you big lug. We’d have to tell everyone we screwed in there because you falling on top of me, injured, is somehow more embarrassing.”
He allows you to remove the soiled bandage and dab around the healing wounds. He’s bruising around the sides, multiple shades of green and yellow already, and the holes are stitched rather poorly. It makes you feel a little better about your own criss-cross work - even Steve sucks at it. 
“I’m sorry I had to go and get myself shot,” Steve apologizes and sucks in a deep breath when the towel drags a little too roughly. 
“Yeah, what the hell happened there?”
He almost mimics you in the way he shrugs his shoulders and lifts his arms in that ‘well, fuck if I know’ position, pursing his lips and expelling a chuckle. “Had my gun trained on Ernesto. Ernesto had his own on Ramirez. Then Seda came in and Ernesto ordered Ramirez to hand his over to Seda. Played right into Seda’s hands.”
You process the explanation slowly and dab his wound a few more times before unwrapping the clean bandage. “And the damn shield?”
Steve’s embarrassed by that small detail, he’ll admit it, because he truly was blindsided by Seda’s appearance. You were supposed to be holding him down after all. “In my defense! When it’s shrunk down and in your pocket rather than latched onto one’s arm, it’s easily forgettable.”
You clean around the wound softly before placing and taping the new bandage. The conversation settles and you’re both quiet for a long, long minute. He thanks you for cleaning him up by rubbing sweet circles into the knuckles of your right hand. Finally, you can’t take it anymore. It’s like a wave of irrefutable worry and rage, all bunched together with each emotion trying to outweigh the other. That goddamn riptide, sucking you in and keeping your head below water just for the hell of it. Breathing in harshly, you fail to keep yourself from stuttering over your words. “I’m sorry.”
Steve bites back a groan of pain as he leans over to take your cheeks in his palms. The brush of his fingertips lets you know that you’ve already started crying. You don’t much care about the facade anymore. “Doll, listen to me. Listen.”
“I never meant to leave you alone.”
“You never did.”
You bark out a wet laugh, sarcastic. “I should have run faster. I should have killed him all those years ago. I should have never brought you into this.”
“You did what you had to do,” he says, fiercely. He forgets his own strength for a second, only slightly diminished from the healing process, and loosens his tight grip against your cheeks. “You did what you had to do to survive.”
“I wanted to hate you,” you admit. Your bottom lip is trembling and your hands clench together over your thighs. “I wanted to hate you so much. If I did, then you getting hurt or killed on this mission wouldn’t hurt so bad. I hated you for what you did. Because it made me realize that I could never hate you at all.”
“Hey,” he tries, hands now lowering to clutch at your own. “Stop apologizing for having a heart. Stop thinking you’re not worthy of even having one.”
Your face crumbles and Steve realizes for the first time in a long time just how much you’ve been holding in. “Why didn’t you use the stones?”
Steve’s heart clenches at the sound of the crack in your voice. He hasn’t heard that crack since Clint fell to his knees without Natasha by his side. He holds onto you tighter and prepares himself for an admission he never thought he would ever have to give. “Because Peggy told me not to.”
Something confusing happens in the middle of your chest. It clenches with anger but understanding. The answer to your question was always this simple but it looks like it’s tearing Steve apart from the inside-out.
    She’s as beautiful as the day he went into the ice. All he has to do is whisper her name so sweetly, delicately, and she turns her head like she’s answering the prayer. First her knees buckle, eyes watering and blotching her vision, and she collapses on the soft grass of her backyard. Steve’s holding her the very next second, repeating that he’s real, he’s here. 
“Steve,” Peggy gasps, hands shaking as she brings them to his wet cheeks. She grips and pokes and does everything so comically that Steve laughs a wet laugh when she starts smacking him. “What is going on?”
And he tells her. Everything he can remember: the good, the bad, the wretched. He spills everything, and he spills the most delicate information of their time: he’s alive, just frozen; Bucky’s alive, just hurt; the world is saved, just broken. Whether she believes it or not Steve’s not sure, but he’s so goddamn happy to see her again that he chokes every other word. 
“And you? You’re happy?”
His eyebrows come together and he looks at Peggy like she’s speaking another language. She’s got the same red lipstick, same curl in her hair even if it’s longer now, and she’s filling out her dresses more. “Pegs, don’t ask me that.”
She detaches herself slowly from his arms, pausing their dance as she speaks. “Why not? You can’t expect me to accept that you stopped by to see me all willy-nilly after saving the universe.” Her lips twitch into a knowing smile and Steve melts. Her voice is sending him into a spiral, a world he never thought he would see again, and he realizes just how much he loves accents on women  - especially this woman. 
“I just,” he chokes out, and brushes his index finger down her cheek. “I had to see you again.”
“I get that,” Peggy says and pays no mind that the record player has stopped; she still sways gently with Steve. “But you’ve just mentioned a whole other world you’ve been a part of. You’ve got your best guy back, that Wilson fellow sounds like the life of the party, and this Agent Y/N certainly sounds like she’s been by your side through it all.”
Steve stutters in his step and holds her closer. Her stomach presses against his, and he stops abruptly. He looks down between them and runs his hand from her shoulder, down, to lay across her growing belly. “Pegs.”
She gives him the same wide and proud smile she gave him when he returned with the 107th. She lays her hand over his. “I know.” She laughs and tilts her head lovingly. “I’m happy, too.”
Steve bites his lip to keep from sobbing. He was so stupid for coming to this timeline, for ruining Peggy’s chance at happiness, for interrupting the life he already knew she created for herself. He inputted the wrong year, he suddenly realizes, and steps back arms-length from her. “I’m sorry, I was stupid to come here. I just wanted to see you and then I did, and I… I still love you, Pegs.”
“Oh,” Peggy gasps, bottom lip trembling. “Darling, do not mistake yourself, even for a second, into thinking that I do not love you too.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing for having a heart.”
He wants to argue, say he’s stupid a million more times, but he finds himself listening to her gentle words. It’s Peggy, Steve thinks. She’s always been right.
“In this world you live in, you have James?” He nods. She continues, “In this world you live in, you just lost two of your most loved friends?” He nods again. He wipes his face from forehead to chin. “In this world you live in, you have met a woman who has the same stubbornness as you; has the same self-sacrificing streak, who has your heart in such shambles that you dare call her one of your best friends?”
Steve thinks of you and how broken your smile was as you waved him goodbye, hand clenching Sam’s as Steve gathered the stones and Mjolnir. He thinks of the times you’d leap onto his back and demand a ride; the times he’s saved your ass in a firefight; how his sleep has definitely improved ever since he started calming you from nightmares - he hasn’t slept so well since before the war. He nods again.
Her eyes go soft. “Steve,” she starts and Steve knows. He doesn’t want to know. “Don’t abandon the world you’ve built for yourself. Surround yourself with the people you love. Do this for me.”
“There’s so much hate and blood waiting for me when I get back, Pegs. I don’t want to-”
“There is a difference between you not wanting to and you having to.” He drops his head and focuses on the floor. Peggy isn’t done grilling him, however, and he looks back up to grant her the respect. “You must not abandon the world you helped create. I’m not saying this to be mean. I’m saying this because I know you don’t want to.”
“Pegs.”
“I see right through you, Steve. We marched together through mud and blood before. We’ve got two years of fighting side by side under our belts. I’ve seen you at your worst, and you I. I know that face anywhere.”
“I missed you, Pegs,” Steve breathes. She cups his face with her hands and draws their foreheads together.
“The stars weren’t written in our favor. But to know that you’re alive, and that you make it, and that you actually get to live,” she bites back a sob. “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”
“It isn’t my world to begin with.”
“No, you’re a man out of time. But so is James. You won’t abandon him now, will you?”
He chuckles low and their noses touch. “Stop making me feel guilty for wanting to find you, Peggy.”
She presses a soft kiss to the side of his mouth and finally breaks away. “And you won’t abandon that sweet girl who has put up with your nonsense for the last five years, you say?”
Steve shakes his head and meets Peggy’s gaze. “I’m just tired.”
“They are too, I bet.” He turns to the door and to Peggy, and she figures it’s almost time for him to leave. “You have been the archer and the brave, Steve. I’m absolutely certain you’ve been more. You will be more.”
Steve says his final goodbyes and stops to remember the fine details of Peggy’s face. The fifties are treating her well. Steve expected nothing less. Bright lights flash around him and he’s back to the world he wanted to leave, to hide from, and he sees you - and your mouth parts in shock.
     “And you listened to her?” you ask. 
Steve smiles, although it’s hard for him to remember that conversation. “I came back. I didn’t listen to her when she said to surround myself with people who love me, and who I love in return.”
“No, you made damn sure of that.”
“Hey,” Steve chuckles. “Don’t take smacks at me when you’re down.”
You can’t help but laugh. “Sorry, it’s just too easy sometimes.” Laughing about the two years of missed chances and spoiled friendship was not on your bingo card for this week. 
“I don’t know how this is going to play out,” you admit. Steve looks so young with a somber expression: his eyebrow creases gently without wrinkling the rest of his forehead, the side of his mouth tilts downward, and his eyelashes kiss the pink of cheeks. “I decided in the moment. So I’m fuck all out of ideas on how to proceed.”
He nods in understanding. “Guess we just have to look over our shoulders three times instead of two now.”
“Simple like that?” You scrub a hand over your face and curse inwardly when you smudge your lipstick down to your chin. You ignore it. “I know we’re Avengers, but.”
“No buts,” Steve says and moves to sit up. You help him by pushing his shoulders and he accepts your help as you struggle to the bathroom. “You helped the guy and his daughter. I’m sure he’s going to be watching our backs from now on.”
You help Steve strip from his dress pants and shoes and finally remove your suit as well. The graze on your arm is covered in brown, dried blood but the wound isn’t deep. It’ll sting like a sunburn, you know that, but it’s better than being shot through. You watch Steve enter the shower and leave the curtain drawn. His bandage is soaked again but thankfully it’s from the water and not more blood. You grab a spare towel and soak it with water and soap, and rub it across your lips and chin. 
“Let me do that,” Steve calls. You strip bare and bring the towel with you into the shower. Steve takes it and scrubs over your face, gently but more rough as he gets to your eyes. It’s an innocent moment of ‘ouch, scrub softer!’ and ‘surprised I didn’t take all your lashes off’. He helps clean your wound as well and once you’re both clean, he bandages you up and you him. 
The master bedroom is the only room without electricity so you gather some candles. It’s like the two of you won’t admit you’re currently afraid of the dark or what may lie in it. They illuminate the room in a delicate orange and it’s such a peaceful color to briefly see before falling asleep, head tucked into Steve’s chest and his heartbeat thrumming gently with your breath. 
     It’s a wonder what a night’s sleep can do. Steve’s wounds are sealed and his fever is gone, but there’s a signature left behind. A pink and white patch of skin as tender as a newborn’s, a memory. Steve pours your coffee and his tea while you trace your fingers over it.
Two hours after eating a small breakfast and securing the perimeter, a soft ding startles you from the random book you’re reading. Steve’s phone shines with a message from Sam. It simply reads: ‘Clear’. Grabbing the phone and walking out onto the porch, you find Steve sitting on one of the steps he tripped over just yesterday. He’s sketching the sky and the trees, taking his time on the lines of the branches, the strokes of the leaves, and the frost over them. He looks up, studies his surroundings, and looks back down to add a detail he previously missed. He sniffs, rubs his nose, and finally notices you leaning against the doorframe. 
“Hey,” he says, soft. “Any news?”
You hold up his phone and nod. “Sam says we’re clear to fly in.”
Steve looks back to his drawing. You hesitate before speaking, knowing damn well an all clear means get your ass back as soon as possible. “Finish your drawing. I’ll pack whatever we need to.” Steve’s mouth parts but he shuts it just as quickly. Slowly, he nods. 
     There isn’t much to pack since you brought nothing but the clothes on your backs. Everything at the hotel was collected before the wedding and should have flown back with Scott and the others. It feels awkward stealing bottled water and processed foods to hoard on the quinjet, but it’s a necessity. Steve meets you at the quinjet doors, shows you his drawing, and volunteers to take the wheel. 
“You’re not volunteering. You’re ordering.”
Steve rolls his eyes, “No license, no drive.”
“What are you? A cop?”
“Don’t think for one second I won’t actually hand the wheels over and happily crash while screaming ‘I told you so’.” 
Steve steers for the duration of your flight. The next few hours are spent just enjoying each other’s company, speaking of all things and simply catching up. It’s amazing how much you two missed from one another’s lives those two years.
      The landing base is clear and it’s Sam who’s waiting for you as the Quinjet manually lands itself. He shoots you a gap-toothed smile and extends his arms, pulling the two of you in at the same time for a strong hug. He’s talking a mile a minute about how successful the mission was, how Fury is over the moon that it’s finally over, how the DEA is thinking of congratulating everyone one by one. It’s enough to distract Steve, who’s just happy to see his best friend again, but it isn’t enough for you. The large metal doors sealing the storage facility from the rest of the compound are thrown open. Bucky stumbles through and practically sprints over to the three of you. 
“Get back on the jet,” he orders, already pulling you by the arm. You all look at one another like he’s gone mad but that’s impossible. Bucky’s paranoia isn’t something to take lightly; he’s right nine out of ten times. 
“Buck, what-?”
“Rhodes couldn’t hold them. They have warrants, Steve.”
Steve hauls Sam onto the jet as well. “Warrants for who?”
“Get down from the jet without a fight and this will all go smoothly.”
There are about twenty uniformed officers surrounding the jet. They spread out in case anyone decides to run but it seems pointless to even try. Secretary Ross points his gun directly at you, proud and tall and looking just the same as you remember him. Last time you saw him was at Tony’s funeral. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” you bite, and raise your hands in cooperation. Ross shakes his head and his expression contorts into one of disgust. There are red beams coming from each gun but your friends are clean - the beams are only pointed at you.
“Agent Y/N Y/LN, you’re under arrest for multiple charges of drug smuggling, trafficking of illegal goods, the murder of Ernesto Vega and Daniel Seda, aiding and abetting drug-lord Omar Ramirez, and for conspiracy against the United States of America. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a federal court of law...”
You drone out half way through. Ross finishes up the speech but no one is listening. Sam is already yelling over your Miranda Rights and Bucky’s frozen in place. Steve’s fighting his way through to Ross, pushing through the muscle until he’s face to face with him. But Ross isn’t fazed. There’s nothing left to do but exit the jet. 
Immediately there are handcuffs slapped to your wrists. Two men drag you over to the containment car that’s enforced with so much indestructible material it’s almost insulting. You weren’t enhanced - they were doing this for fun.
“You’ve got it all wrong! Y/N! Y/N!”
You don’t fight. Conspiracy… you’re surprised they didn’t just shoot you dead. Steve’s still yelling, begging to be heard, but you try to block him out. It’s not your first time being arrested but it is your first time being charged with something you didn’t do. As funny as that sounds, it’s terrifying. 
“Steve,” you say, and Steve breaks through some more hired muscle so he’s within earshot. “It’s okay.”
His face pulls up in pain, “No, you didn’t do this! They’re not listening!”
One of the officers pushes your head down roughly and tries to shove you in the backseat. You’re still looking at Steve. And those eyes, wounded and vulnerable, haunt him even after the door shuts and the car drives away.
     There’s a privilege attached to the mantle of Captain America. Perhaps he was too blind to see it during the war or just too proud he was finally being heard and respected, but now he sees it for what it really is. It’s a mantle this country has never truly associated with the person but with the purpose. Steve was manufactured to help protect this country under government orders and when he defied that purpose, he disgraced the mantle. Seems like some people idolize the role a little too much. 
But he’s still Captain America. This reality has continued to clear his name from stunts he pulls and laws he breaks. And once Steve is able to walk away without so much as a scratch, he leaves bodies behind.
Sharon. Sam. Bucky. Wanda. And now you. All people who fought his fight and weren’t granted the quick privilege of that perceived pureness and holiness. He was always ready for combat, he was built for it, but he didn’t really want it. 
Did he?
Ripping that star off his chest was one thing. Accepting his new shield cemented his continual legacy as the Star-Spangled Man. He deserved to be in that cell with you. But if he learned anything about how the world works, it’s that cruelty doesn’t just win in the movies. All of his enemies started out friends and if he had to bet, he’d bet the reason they’re labeled as such is partially because of him. 
So he sits and listens to everyone’s ideas and plans, vetoing and dismissing one right after the other, his mind doing jumping jacks. He’s both there and not, drowning in the fact that he made it home and you didn’t. He doesn’t know how to sleep without the sound of your snoring anymore. 
He sits and listens. 
    The cell isn’t one you would expect for someone who has been charged for betraying her country. It’s modestly furnished: a black cot in the far right corner with a mini table beside it, a desk with some paper, and a door that leads to the private bathroom. All in all, the room’s size is that of a child’s bedroom; there’s no actual pens and pencils for risk of violent behavior and there’s a bulb camera that moves when you move. 
You’ve been trapped in worse. 
Countless detectives and investigators have visited already. They all ask the same questions: Why did you do it? Did Captain Rogers know? Who are you, really? 
You give the same answers: I didn’t do it. Of course, every single person knows. Who do you think I am?
Every time they leave more discouraged than the one before them, refusing to compare notes with one another in case they were in possession of gold. They all ignore you when you try to ask for Steve and his wellbeing. Their faces contort, they whisper to their partners, and they shake their heads in disappointment. One even goes as far as to threaten you, warning you to keep Captain Roger’s name out of your wetback mouth or else, until he’s escorted from the cell. Not that it really matters - the manipulated ideals of these people will always blur their search for the truth. And when the truth fails to satisfy such greedy manipulations, they choose to create their own.
There is one agent who peaks your interest. He offers you gum when he settles in the chair near the door. His name badge reads ‘Kavert’; it glares in the bright lights overhead and he makes no other attempt at small talk once he gets comfortable and opens his little notepad. 
That goddamn notepad, you think. Every single person before has prided themselves over it, scribbling little notes about your tone of voice, body movement, and vague answers. You never give much, Natasha had taught you better, so they always end up writing less than two bullet points before giving up. 
But Agent Kavert surprises you by opening up to a blank page, spitting his chewed gum in the middle, and then he shuts it closed. He offers you a real smile, one that doesn’t look practiced or forced. It lets you study him without being so guarded or uncomfortable. He seems young, not really a rookie but it’s obvious he’s spent more time behind a desk than out in the field. His dark hair is short, sprinkled grays near his temples, and his attire screams upper level. His build is lean, his gun is in the holster on his right hip, and a part of you knows he’d put up a hell of a fight if you tried to escape. 
“I was gonna comment on what lovely weather we’re having, but I don’t think you get out much.” 
You’re startled into a real laugh. Satisfaction washes over his face. 
“I think you’re wasting your time, Agent Kavert.”
He grins and moves to proudly pull at his jacket and present his badge. He sets the notebook to the side and leans forward to cup his hands together on his knees. 
You squint at him. There’s nothing interesting about you right now: back against the wall as you sit criss-crossed on the cot, sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, hair brushed but a little greasy. Your last shower was two days ago and you figure they’ll let you have one tonight. 
“Yeah, you’re right. There’s no point in hoping you’ll tell me anything you haven’t shared yet.”
“Nope.”
He hums low in his throat and tilts his head to the left. Now, he squints at you. “I just don’t get it. How did you do it? Not show up on our radar, I mean?”
It doesn’t seem like he’s calling you guilty or innocent. Already he’s one-hundred percent different from the other agents. “I wasn’t exactly hiding.”
He sits up to lean back in the chair, “Different last name, government and Avenger protection, covering your tracks so carefully even the DEA missed you.”
“You’ve done your homework.”
“Yes, but,” he starts. He acts like he’s having a normal conversation on his front porch. “It still doesn’t make sense. How could Nick Fury miss this? Tony Stark? After the whole Obadiah situation, I expected him to-”
“It’s simple, really. Do you want to know or do you want to keep making assumptions?”
He’s watched the other agents leave by this point. Some couldn’t even make you talk. So he shuts up and waves his hand for you to continue. 
“Cool,” you breathe out. “First of all, I’m literally only telling you this because I’ve already been refused a lawyer or some crap like that and I highly doubt this is going to actual court. The publicity would be horrible.” 
He bites his lip but you catch the little smile forming. You continue, “And I have nothing to hide. I’m sure my Captain, my teammates, and Fury himself have given their sides. Am I right?”
Agent Kavert adjusts himself in the seat and nods in response. He doesn’t dare interrupt you now. 
“Good, then I’ll keep it sweet. They knew who I was. I was recruited to be an inside source, a double agent, and this wedding was the perfect chance to corner those men,” you declare, turning your hands palm up and shrugging your shoulders. “There, happy?”
“Double agent.” Agent Kavert chews over the words, rolling them around on his tongue a few more times. He’s squinting harder and you can see his brain working. The next sound to leave his lips is a heavy sigh and a feeling of immense irritation washes over you. It wasn’t enough.  “Are we going to be truthful yet, Agent?”
Chuckling lightly, you rest the back of your skull on the wall. It was wrong to assume he’d be any different from the others. “Of course you don’t believe me. You want more, they all do. I don’t suppose I have anything better to do.”
He claps his hands on his thighs and leans forward again, loud and restless. “Then let’s get started, really: Did you or did you not let Omar Ramirez, Mexican drug-lord involved with Ernesto Vega, your father... imagine that, run away from a crime scene, evade arrest, and possibly leave the country?”
“You expect me to follow all those questions?”
“It’s not the time to be funny.”
“You were enjoying it just a second ago,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows, still waiting for an answer.  “Then let me put it simply: no, I did not.”
“Did you or did you not assassinate Ernesto Vega?”
“I would have remembered such a brilliant kill if it came from my gun.”
“So that’s a no… Daniel Seda?”
“His gun was pointed at my Captain. Yes.”
“Against orders, then?”
Confusion is written all over your face and you make sure the camera knows it too. There are only so many times you can repeat yourself. “Don’t you have Steve’s report? Scott’s?”
“We have to hear the story from you, Agent.”
“But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? You don’t believe me.”
He shrugs and quickly scans you up and down. Even if he doesn’t have the tangible notepad in his hands, he’s getting away with making mental notes. “The story just isn’t piecing together the way it should be. Why would Daniel Seda murder his greatest ally and friend?”
“Our mics have already transcribed that answer for you, sir. I’m sure of it. And I’ve got sources outside of the DEA and Avengers-”
“Like Maribel Rodrigo? Another smuggler who has operated inside the cartel, HYDRA, Madripoor…”
You cut him off, angry. “Not the full story.” 
Tone of voice: defensive.
“Then that leads me to my next question.”
“Oh, fun.”
Tone of voice: sarcastic.
He speaks with a tinge of astonishment hidden in every syllable. “Why didn’t you do it? Kill Ernesto, I mean.”
“I was disarmed at the time. The Captain and I both were,” you answer, growing more impatient by the second.
He uses his hands to speak now, finger pointing along an invisible timeline detailing the order of events. “So you admit you were going to kill him if you had your weapon.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth.”
Body movement: rigid.
“Or maybe you weren’t. Maybe my boss is right, maybe the FBI is right in thinking that you are a double agent leaning more towards your roots than our boys in blue.” He says this like its scripture; like it’s some holy conspiracy he’s just found evidence for. He wants you to plant words in your mouth and in this discussion so he can pluck the evidence from the ground and water it with fire.
You scoff hard, “I hardly ever wear blue when doing your job for you.”
“Was letting Omar Ramirez escape our job or just yours?”
Telling him the truth would mean losing all credibility, all titles, all trust in your work. You know what you’ve done and you don’t regret it. Ramirez was never the biggest fish and if you spun this right, then he was simply a fish who got his meal and promptly swam away. “You assume I let him go. What evidence tells you that?”
He ignores the question and instead asks another of his. “Why were your relations kept hidden from SHIELD and the FBI?”
“That’s a question for you know who.”
He shakes his head in disappointment. “You’re in a lot of trouble.”
“I bet I am. But this is not some precinct where you can get my team to turn on me so easily. And this is not a situation in which they’re lying for me. I trust that whatever the Captain has said is the answer to all your questions.”
“We’re gonna unravel this case. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”
You’re suddenly overcome with a wave of sleepiness. These past two weeks have been exhausting even if you haven’t moved more than five feet from wall to wall. Having to repeat yourself to people who have already written the story for themselves is tiring. “I don’t know why you guys can’t just believe the words of myself and everyone vouching for me. We got you all the evidence. We have given you more names and connections that you’ll ever know what to do with. You don’t need to unravel anything; it’s all there! But because we weren’t able to arrest the one person you wanted, that being Ernesto, you go after me. You have White but I guess he’s not talking. And you’ll believe what you want to believe.”
“I trust my gut.”
“As simple as that, huh?” You sigh deeply and cross your arms over your chest. “You know, there’s a saying the late Agent Carter used to tell all SHIELD agents when they first started out and when they came back from missions. When she retired, it was Fury who then eased our minds.” 
Agent Kavert has a harsh line creasing through the middle of his forehead and he looks deeply interested. 
“There are three sides to every story,” you recite. “Your side, my side, and the truth.” A gentle shrug of the shoulders feels like all you’re allowed to give him. “I’m not lying to you but I’m not telling you the full truth either. Just my side.”
Agent Kavert shuts his eyes and bounces his left leg. He looks conflicted and unable to formulate a response at all. He’s shaking like he’s at war with himself or with the suits on the other side of the door, but no one has come knocking yet. “Let’s say I believe you. Just for a second.”
You nod. 
“Daniel Seda murders Vega at his own daughter’s wedding. We managed to catch Marcus White and because of fault entirely, Omar Ramirez gets away. Because from what I heard, Ramirez was working with you.” He paints the picture rather mundane, but you shoot him a smile that tells him he’s on the right track. “And you and all the other Avengers were blindsided by Ramirez. You gathered all the evidence you were told to gather, worked together and played your cards right, infiltrated one of the most secure estates in the country, and fucked up so badly that you managed to let two of your biggest giants die?”
“I really think you got it spot on.”
He laughs dryly, “But it still doesn’t make sense. Once Vega was gone and Seda survived, where would you have fallen in this tree?”
He wants to retract his question the moment he sees your face fall with such a sincerity he wasn’t ready for. “That’s just it, Agent Kavert. I would have fallen.”
“And the other two? How would business work? Would Daniel Seda have been the head of it now?”
“Your answers are in the evidence we gathered. I know you guys aren’t touching it because you think I’m compromised.”
He stands from the chair and dusts off his jacket. “Your side, my side, and the truth,” he repeats. He goes to open the door but you speak quickly before he can leave. 
“They think I infiltrated SHIELD, the Avengers, and am in bed with HYDRA because they’ve been helping Ernesto’s vision all along.” Agent Kavert stops and turns back to you. “I am a double agent whose identity was kept secret to aid this country and not raise suspicions from your part. I have seen a lot of things, have done things I’m not proud of, but I’ve done it all for a reason.”
Agent Kavert looks almost ashamed. Tone of voice: sincere.
“Me and my Captain saved lives, our own as well, and we stopped three of the most notorious drug-lords who have been at large since the eighties. We got your giants for you. And the truth is, I have discovered: through all my pain and experience... that it’s excellent to have a giant’s strength; but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant.”
Agent Kavert doesn’t know if you’re talking about Ernesto, the U.S Government, yourself, or him. His eyebrows pinch together and he slowly moves to leave the room.
    It’s another week before you’re visited by someone who isn’t bringing you food or extra toilet paper. You’re picking at your cuticles when the vents above your cell begin rattling with the obvious weight of a human being. You sit dumbly on the bed, straining your ears and trying hard not to laugh as each rattle is returned with a muffled curse. The vent on the ceiling right outside your cell drops to the concrete floor. 
Ernesto’s men wouldn’t go through all that trouble to kill you James Bond style. They would have just bribed a guard. So it’s a treat when the door swings open quickly and in comes a staggering Clint, keys in one hand and his phone in the other. The screen is illuminated, showcasing what looks to be blueprints. He’s got a bandaid over his left eyebrow and dust all over his clothes.
Your upper lip twitches into a silly smile. “You’re ridiculous if you thought you wouldn’t be heard in those damn vents.”
Clint makes a noise that sounds like he’s saying ‘maaaf’ and he plops down beside you on the cot. It’s absolutely hilarious he traveled in the vents and that the team approved this when in reality, they could have just sent Scott. “Just had to get past the first line of security. Plus, the blueprints said they were wider... I figure we’ve got a good three minutes before they check the cameras.”
It’s not the first time you sit in a cell with a time crunch. 
     The Raft is nothing special. They have you all separated by rank, meaning you were in the same vicinity as Clint, Sam, and Scott. Wanda was moved to a more secure location and you haven’t seen her since they brought you in. 
There isn’t much to do in a place like this. You tried counting how many strands of hair you had but gave up once you counted two hundred; you tried seeing if the others could hear you when you yelled out to them but the cells were soundproof; you even tried filing your nails against the uneven paint on the wall. It’s like they made life in these cells purposefully horrible - like you didn’t save the world a couple times over, c’mon. 
The camera fidgets over your head where you’re laying down and after a few seconds, it stops. The red light slowly fades and turns a bright yellow. You move to stand on the bed and reach for it, but a voice startles you from doing so. 
“Don’t mess with my magic!”
You topple over the single pillow you were given and fall flat on the bed, scrambling to shield yourself from whoever intruded. “Jesus!”
“Oh, I met him. Strange lad, didn’t deserve what happened to him.”
There’s a moment where you think you must be dreaming. His hair is longer and hits his shoulders and he’s added some blue and yellow to his usual attire. But other than that, he’s alive. Truly, brilliantly, really alive. 
“Loki, what the fuck?”
“Right!” Loki claps his hands and extends them outwards, smiling.  “Ta-da!”
A few beats pass. You blink a few times just in case you’re hallucinating. Barely a week in containment… 
“I’m sorry… I’m still trying to process the fact that you’re still alive!”
He scoffs low and goes to sit at the edge of the bed. “A God never truly dies, darling.”
“Well in Greek mythology-”
“Greek mythology and I have this unsettled beef that’s been going on for about five hundred years. Do not mention Greek mythology to me.”
“Excuse me, right, I should have known that was a sensitive topic.”
Loki swipes his tongue over his bottom lip and expels a laugh. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Your restraint is gone and you lunge forward to envelope him in the tightest hug you’ve ever given anyone. He returns it, sighing into your shoulder and holding you close. You pull away just to stare at him, watching his features as they move ever so slightly. It’s really him. 
“I-” Loki tries but stutters. He’s studying you too and he almost looks sad. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Does Thor know?” Loki shakes his head at your question and winces when you smack his shoulder. “Loki, Thor has been grieving you for months!”
“I’m planning on it!” You don’t believe him. He goes to rub his shoulder. “Gods, I forgot you had excellent aim.”
You look back at the camera and find that the yellow light is still glowing, dim. Loki’s magic is blocking footage out or putting footage in, you really don’t know. But it’s allowing you a few moments with the man you thought you’d never see again. “Spontaneous reincarnation aside, what are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?”
“I’m on this planet for five-FIVE minutes, and the television has all these reports about you and everyone fighting each other?”
“Mm, right, right.”
Loki stares at you, amused. “... Care to explain?”
Your face contorts into a hundred different expressions until you finally settle on one of gentle guilt. “The person we were after was a friend of a friend. I made a judgement call and let him go.”
“You went against orders?”
“I went against the law.”
“Even better.”
With an eyebrow cocked, you give him a judging look. “Loki.”
His eyes crinkle from the intensity of his smile and you’ve missed him, you missed him so much. “That’s what I love about you. Barely starting out as an Avenger and you’re already realizing you can do more good in your own way.”
You groan quietly and rest your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist and tugs you closer. “I mainly did it for Steve. Wasn’t like it was a big ‘fuck you’ to one-hundred and seventeen nations for the hell of it.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No.”
“Spoken like a true anti-hero.”
“You comparing me to yourself?”
Loki chuckles and runs his fingers through the strands of hair closest to your cheek. “Darling, I’m a God. No one comes close.” He sighs, serious again. “All I’m saying is that it’s refreshing to see the young break the rules.”
“I missed you,” you softly say. You can feel the nudge of his cheek turning upward against your head. 
“Always nice to hear.”
Rolling your eyes, you move to meet his gaze. “So, no reason why you came to visit me specifically?”
Loki takes one cautious look at the camera, to outside your cell, and back to you. “I too do things for your lovely Captain.” His smile grows wider. 
“What?”
He winks and tilts his head over to the giant metal doors that are starting to pry open. “See you in a minute.” 
The alarms begin blazing; there is fog filling the room, and Steve emerges from that fog with a winning smirk.
     You look over at Clint, half selfishly wishing he was Loki on another one of his midnight visits, and quickly do away with the thought. “So how’s life without me?”
“Oh, it’s great! The flowers are in bloom, the kitchen isn’t always a mess, and my bow and arrow aren’t misplaced because you wanted to have some fun with it,” he jokes, stretching far enough that his feet dig into your thigh like he’s trying to make more room for himself.  
“Not like it’s your only bow and arrow.”
He chuckles and sits up. He does a once over of the room and adjusts the frequency on his hearing aid. “They read you your rights at least?”
You wait to respond until he finishes fixing it. You speak and sign the words slowly,  “I don’t think any lawyer in America will want to take this case anyway.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s a career killer.”
Trying to refrain from smiling around Clint was nearly impossible. You look to the door quickly, “Two minutes?”
He shoots up straighter as he watches your hands, “Right! So we’re currently tracking down your sister-”
“My sister?”
“Steve thinks she’s our only hope at clearing your name.”
“Why is that? I told her to get as far away as possible.”
Clint sighs and scratches the skin just above the bandaid. “She stayed in Mexico all those years you were gone. By all accounts, Ernesto adored her. Because of that, her influence might clear your name.”
“But she stayed. All the more reason to believe she was involved as well,” you say, shaking your head.
“She’s barely out of her teens. Everything that happened, happened when she was a minor. She has a first hand account of the abuse Ernesto caused you. And Steve thinks that the Julian fellow might even come clean and admit to the arranged marriage. Shows a pattern of abuse by Ernesto to his own children. Could spin it to make it seem like you had no other choice but to follow his orders.”
You follow his hands slowly, some signs difficult to read but you latch onto the gist of his argument. You groan and lean your head back on the wall with a small thump. “They go against Ernesto and they have targets on their backs. Even my other siblings who are still involved with all of this won’t let it go.”
“Y/N… Ernesto’s dead. You know that.”
“His influence isn’t.”
There’s minimal commotion a few doors down. Clint realizes it’s time to leave. “It might never be. But we don’t get to live in the future.” He stands with another small groan and stretches as he prepares to lift himself back into the vent. “We’re living now, and it’s all any of us can do.”
“Clint?” You also stand and have to wave in his peripheral to get his attention. He turns and knows what you’re about to say even without the hand gestures. “They won’t answer me when I ask.”
His lips pull into a perceptive smile, “He’s okay. Doing what he does best - blaming himself.”
“Oh, okay, good.”
He’s had enough practice reading your lips to notice the sarcasm that drips from them. He hurries to lift himself up. “We’ve got about a million tricks up our sleeve. If Jackeline’s word or the evidence isn’t enough, we’ve always got Fury and his blackmail.”
“Yeah, half the guys who interviewed me look like they cheat on their wives, so.”
He genuinely laughs and jumps high, muttering more to himself than to you. “Up we go…”
     The team locates Jackeline just a few days after your run-in with Clint. The building saw a triple rise in security but even then it didn’t prevent undercover agents passing all the checkpoints and sliding notes with your meals. They’d leave the tray, tip their hats, and smile like they knew the cameras wouldn’t suspect a thing. 
The first note is from Bucky, with the simple message of ‘I watched a few episodes of The Crown without you… I’m sorry.’
The second comes on the same day at dinner time, this one from Wanda. ‘I think Peter is trying to flirt with your sister.’
The third isn’t slipped through with any meal, but rather through the tiny opening beneath the door. ‘Surprised we did this the legal way this time! See you soon! - Rhodey’
The final one is actually hand delivered when several guards come in to tell you you’re free to go. They’re mumbling amongst themselves, cursing the system and the privileges Avengers always get, when the smallest of the five turns to you and hands you the note. ‘I owe you one. You owe me one. Who’s counting anymore? - Joaquin’
Jackeline had been able to track down Maribel and the two of them, with such accuracy in their stories and their timelines, constructed your defense perfectly. They showed them phone records, all of the recordings from that week, had proof that you never signed a thing, and made several special deals. Jackeline promised to reveal where bodies were buried, where business was dealt with, who else was involved with Ernesto and Seda. Maribel managed to get a message to them from Ramirez, which basically cleared you from the crime they were trying to stick. Ramirez was a damn good liar, you’ll give him that, and it made you the tiniest bit sad that you’d probably never see him again. 
The tipping point was when Steve turned himself in. There was no evidence that you did anything, never signed anything, never conspired behind your teammates backs. Fury made sure not to keep a paper or electronic trail. But there was evidence that implicated Steve - the contract. No matter how badly the FBI and CIA tried to make it go away, to absolve Steve from it, he didn’t back down. It was like the story they originally wanted toppled in on itself and it was actually Steve who forced you into all of this - playing your connections and forcing your hand. The contract hadn’t been voided, still hasn’t, and they really couldn’t risk another SHIELD fiasco. So it was destroyed to protect the Stars and Stripes, and in return they promised to let you go if you didn’t tell a soul. The image you’d come to despise, that tacky red, white and blue, is starting to grow on you.
‘Let me think about that and get back to you,’ you had joked. You think they let you go sooner because they feared the truth in your joke. 
But there wasn’t anything to think about, ever, still isn’t. Steve pulled another sacrifice play and you wanted to get out as soon as possible to kick his ass. 
You leave the prison with the same clothes you had on when you entered. They smell washed and you’re thankful they allowed you to shower before you left. You ignore the looks guards and prisoners aim at you, each trying to somehow get their hits in without actually pulling their punches. This would be a media disaster either way, didn’t matter the outcome of a supposed trial, and PR was most likely struggling to prepare their defense. 
You resist the embarrassing urge to run into his arms. He’s standing right outside the gates, leaning back on the passenger side of his rusty old blue pickup, positively glowing underneath the blazing sun. You’re blinded by it, skin thanking the dangerous rays for its first touch in weeks, but it only takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. He still hasn’t shaved and his hair is getting longer, and instead of his usual tucked-in dress shirt, he’s wearing a brown leather jacket over a faded graphic tee that reads AC/DC. It was Tony’s.
You’ve only got the broken burner phone and a hair tie in your possession; it’s what was on you when you were arrested. You drop the burner in a nearby trashcan and head on over to the truck. Steve’s wide smile buckles your knees and it damn near breaks your heart. Even when the two of you weren’t on speaking terms, you still saw each other at least twice a week. Going two weeks without seeing him feels like a lifetime. 
Once you're a few feet away, you stop in front of him. There are no immediate words you know to say, so you simply shrug your shoulders and give him a look that asks ‘What now?’
“Home.”
~
TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer​ @justab-eautifulmess​ @supraveng​ @mycosmicparadise​ @missnighttigress​
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Mistletoe
@elliestormfound hit me with this delightful ask “hi! I have a prompt for you: what if everyone knows that Geralt and Jaskier are dating except for Geralt and Jaskier because they are idiots? What if it is around christmas and all their friends hang mistletoe everywhere to get them to kiss finally?? sorry, I got too excited :D“ and it was just the thing my brain needed to decompress today apparently? So here’s 1.7k of my stress relief? 
Warnings: k-kissing? christmas-ish? banter? swear words? a silent auction for an animal shelter? its in a barn? idk fam i think this one is pretty tame?
__________
“Geralt I can send Lambert in five minutes. You need to go home and shower.” Jaskier’s voice was exasperated over the truck speaker, having already told Geralt three times today that he couldn’t be late for his own fundraiser. 
Geralt sighed and switched his blinker, heading away from the large animal pickup call and towards his house, “Have him take Eskel. I think we’ve been called there before.”
“Oh, so you were fine going alone even though you tell everyone else not to? Great. I swear to every god, Geralt. If someone shoots you over taking their animal away I will revive you only to kill you slowly with my bare hands.”
“Jask, I’m fine-”
“Yes. I know,” Jaskier lowered his voice and Geralt could picture him waving his hands and tilting his head this way and that like he always did when he mocked him, “I’m Geralt. I’m big and scary and love animals so much I’ll throw myself into dangerous situations without thought because I’m a selfish and impulsive cock.”
“Ok-AY. I see your point. I’m on my way home.”
“Good. Wear the green shirt so you don’t blend into the backdrop.”
-
Four hours and an obligatory ‘thank you for coming, please give us money, look at all these cute animals’ speech, Geralt was finally free to have a drink and relax. Well, mostly. He still had to be professional and courteous, but Jaskier did all the schmoozing on the part of the shelter. The majority of his time at these events was spent following Jaskier around like a lost puppy. Geralt did what he needed to, told stories when asked and supplied the facts when Jaskier went a little heavy on the emotional pleas, but he took a backseat for anything that included other people. They made a great team and Geralt tried not to think about it. No point in dwelling on what you can’t have, right?
Geralt did think about how many drink tickets Lambert had been handing out as he noticed more and more couples kissing. Come to think of it, he was quite sure Melissa and Adam had divorced last year… 
He kept noticing it as Jaskier led him around the silent auction tables and nearly lost his ‘easy going host’ mask when someone shuffled up and planted a wet one on the person he was talking to. 
Jaskier rolled his eyes and pointed up at his chin, making Geralt frown and rub at his own, thinking he’d missed a spot shaving. Jaskier bit his lip in a failed attempt to hide a smile and looked where he was pointing. Geralt followed, and to his horror, most of the ceiling in the barn had little bundles of mistletoe hanging. 
There was one at every doorway, three by the food, a few over auction tables, one over every stall door, one on every support beam over the breezeway, and worst of all, one right over the table Geralt and the team were seated at. 
“Ah! Geralt, I forgot to have you sign something before you left the office.” Jaskier clapped him on the shoulder and jarred him out of his thousand yard stare as he led him away, “Excuse us.”
“The fuck is with all the mistletoe?” Geralt practically sputtered as they crunched their way across the frozen driveway, picking up the pace to get into the heated office as quick as possible. 
Jaskier shrugged, “Bert probably just wanted to up his chances of getting laid.”
Geralt set his drink down on the reception counter and plopped down in Jaskier’s chair, “Sounds like him. What did you have for me to sign?”
“Hm?” Jaskier leaned against the desk facing Geralt, eyeing his fingers drumming on the mouse pad Geralt had given him for the secret santa last year. Geralt did it every time he came into the office for more than five minutes. He’d steal Jask’s seat and tap at it, or lean over his shoulder as he was typing away and rap it with his knuckles when he left. It wasn’t extravagant by any means, it was just a picture of Geralt, Ciri, and Jaskier mimicking Roach ‘smiling’ in the background with her top lip folded back over her nostrils. But it was the closest Geralt ever came to telling Jaskier how he felt, settling instead for a shy ‘Ciri thought it was cute’ and an awkward hug. 
“You said I needed to sign something?”
Jaskier blinked a few times and refocused on Geralt, “Oh, no. You just looked like you needed a minute.” 
Geralt slumped down farther into the chair, “Thank you.”
Jaskier fiddled with the shiny buttons on his blazer, talking a little too fast to be entirely comfortable, “Oh this is completely self serving. You’re difficult to handle when you get ‘out-peopled’.”
“So you’re my handler now?” Geralt griped, a bit of sarcasm sneaking out with his words.
“Something like that,” Jaskier huffed, glancing up at Geralt through the hair falling in his eyes. 
Geralt’s breath caught in his throat and  he was suddenly more nervous than he’d been before his speech. He slapped his thighs and heaved a dramatic sigh before standing up, “We should probably get back.”
Jaskier looked up at him, a few inches lower than he usually stood while he sat against the desk. Geralt caught his eyes flickering up and his jaw clench as he tried to pretend he’d seen nothing. Following his gaze he froze.
A massive bunch of mistletoe was hung right above their heads, truly it was a miracle they’d missed it before. 
Jaskier set his drink down next to him on the desk and whispered, “There’s no one else here…”
Geralt looked down at him, tilting his head and furrowing his brows as he tried to figure out what that had anything to do with….
His heartbeat picked up as he caught on to Jaskier’s subtle suggestion, “Totally alone,” he breathed. 
His agreement hung in the air much like the mistletoe above their heads, taunting and almost permission giving, but not quite enough.
After making eye contact for far too long to be considered professional or friendly, Jaskier pushed off of the desk and for once, Geralt didn’t step back to give him space. They could rock forward onto their toes and  their noses would touch and Geralt’s heart was absolutely racing, leaving his brain somewhere in the dust. 
“You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?” Jaskier’s breath tickled at Geralt’s throat, not close enough to be warm, but it gave him goose flesh all the same. 
“Ask what?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Geralt let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, a hesitant but relieved smile spreading on his face as he nodded. Jaskier licked his lips and rested a hand on Geralt’s cheek and the other on his waist. Geralt thought he felt him shaking a bit but soon forgot all about it as he rested his own hands on Jaskier’s hips and the moment felt real. He swallowed his nerves down and leaned in just a fraction of an inch, letting Jaskier guide their lips together with the hand at his jaw. His eyes fluttered closed when he felt Jaskier’s hot breath on his lips and he was praying he wouldn’t faint before their lips even touched.
But when they finally did, it was heaven. 
Just a gentle press of skin to skin at first, careful and sweet, and the butterflies wreaking havoc on Geralt’s stomach rose to his chest. Gods, it was unreal the way such a simple kiss could undo him like this but here he was, so overwhelmed that if he didn’t do something with his hands he might cry. He slid one hand to the small of Jaskier’s back and pulled him flush to his body, pressing forward with his lips and searching for more of whatever that drug making him feel so light and warm was. Jaskier mirrored him, wrapping his arm farther around his waist and moving his other hand to the nape of his neck to pull him closer still. Geralt let his tongue dart out across Jaskier’s lips and chuckled in surprise when Jaskier countered with enthusiasm, taking over immediately. 
As he pulled away, Jaskier ran the tip of his tongue over the roof of Geralt’s mouth making him let out a shaky breath and shudder.
Geralt’s eyes snapped open and he pressed his tongue to the spot, wrinkling his nose before laughing softly, “That tickled.”
“Mhm,” Jaskier nodded and smiled, brushing his thumb over Geralt’s cheek as he searched his eyes.
“Can we do that again?” Geralt breathed, moving a hand from Jaskier’s hip to between his shoulder blades. 
Whatever he found in his inspection, Jaskier seemed satisfied, if not elated, “Hell yes.”
 Moments later, while their lips were most pleasantly locked together, Lambert and Yennefer burst through the door yelling.
“Fucking finally!” and “No! They didn’t say it! I didn’t lose! I don’t owe you shit!”
Jaskier jumped and made to step away, but Geralt kept him close, pulling him to his side but away from the door. 
Yen grinned at them and held out a palm to Lambert, “Pay up, bitch. They’re positively head over heels.” 
“What the hell guys?” Geralt snapped, more than a little on edge and embarrassed. 
Lambert grumbled as he pulled his money clip out of his slacks, “This witch slipped you a love potion and swindled me out of a nice bottle of gin.”
Yennefer preened and plucked the money out of his hand, “No such thing as magic, dear,” she cooed and tucked the money in her bra before addressing Geralt and Jaskier, “It’s almost time to call the auction and people are starting to notice you’re gone.” 
Jaskier smoothed Geralt’s hair back over his shoulder, “We can talk about it later, yeah?” His voice was soft and soothing, tempering Geralt’s usual reaction to Yen bossing him around to a mild eye roll. 
He looked down at Jaskier and kissed his forehead before grabbing his hand and heading for the door, “I’d love to.”
They talked about it over pumpkin pie at Jaskier’s place after the event. Well… talked might not be the right word…
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smellyfootboy · 3 years
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SMELLY ENCOUNTERS WITH ETHAN PT. 4: A Grand Finale.
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It had been about 4 days after I started staying with Ethan at his house while my floors were getting done in my own house. Each night, Ethan has used my mouth as his own personal masturbation toy at least twice a day. Which I certainly did not mind, but I think I’ve eaten more of his cum than I have real food. We did not sleep together in the same bed… He would make me sleep on the couch. Honestly I kind of loved this friendship the way we had it going. What shocked me though, is that he hasn’t made me smell his feet or do anything foot related for a few days. Just yesterday I checked his laundry bin and couldn’t see any used socks, which brought me to the conclusion that after the last time he did laundry, and must have been wearing the same socks since… and he was probably waiting for the perfect stink to “torture” me with… and he had to be on at least day 4 or 5 by now. The dirtiest I’ve ever smelled his socks was my very first foot encounter with him. He had worn them for 4 days back then and basically made me put them in my mouth. That was about 7 months ago.
Ethan came into the living room while I was playing on my phone sitting on his couch.
“Hey man- I’m going to have a couple of the guys come over tonight for some beer pong. You down?” Ethan asked.
“Yeah, sounds good to me… anyone I know?” I asked.
“Joe from my college that you met before and my brother, Riley.” Ethan said. Joe was a quiet, skinnier guy, but really cute, and Riley I had not met.
Later that night, after Ethan came back with beer and snacks, I helped him put up the pong table, which we placed next to his dining room table. We set up all the snacks and cups.
Joe was the first to show up. He wore a white button up shirt, jeans, and white adidas shoes. We talked for a little while before Riley showed up. I was shocked to see how much he looked like Ethan. He wasn’t as built, but they definitely could almost be twins. Riley was wearing a black t shirt, black shorts, black crew socks, and a very similar pair of converse as Ethan was wearing. He looked about the same age as Ethan as well. Maybe a little younger, mid 20’s possibly.
We made some drinks, talked about our jobs, and got a little buzz before we started on the pong. Ethan and Riley were on one side and me and Joe were on the other. I was pretty terrible at beer pong so I hoped Joe was a little better than me.
We started the game.
“Hold up… we should make this more interesting. Make some bets and shit.” Riley said. Oh God, here we go, I thought.
“What like money? I don’t have any cash on me.” Joe said. I saw Ethan’s eyes light up. I knew what was coming.
“Losing team has to sniff the winning team’s feet for 2 minutes.” Ethan said proudly.
Joe made a grossed out face. Riley kind of laughed.
“Bitch- I grew up with you, I know how rank your feet are… do you still wear the same socks for multiple days.” Riley asked.
“Depends…. I think these bad boys are on day 4.” Ethan said. I wasn’t going to bring up that I’m pretty sure they were day 5.
“Dude, I’ll throw up.” Joe said.
“Then… don’t lose…” Ethan laughed.
“Whatever… man- I went running today so I might be pretty ripe myself.” Riley said. We all continued to play. I may have purposely missed the cup a few times and Joe was not very good. So things we looking pretty grim for us.
“My feet feel really hot and sweaty, how about you bro?” Riley said to Ethan jokingly as Joe missed another shot.
“Fuck man, I can smell both of our feet through the shoes.” Ethan said back.
“Oh God…” Joe said.
We only had one cup left. Riley was taking the shot.
“You think I’ll make it?” Riley asked
“No way…” I said
“If he makes it, yall gotta add some tongue to our feet…” Ethan added.
“And if he doesn’t, we skip all the foot crap.” Joe said nervously.
“Deal.” Riley said.
It seemed like time went in slow motion for that shot. And sure enough… he made it in the cup.
Riley and Ethan high fived each other. Me and Joe looked at each other and he kind of shook his head.
Ethan walked over to the dining room table and kicked his feet up.
“Joey, get over here and take my shoes off.” Ethan said. Joe sighed and walked over and sat across from Ethan.
“Just two minutes right? Someone time it please.” Joe said sadly.
Riley nodded and we both just watched what was unfolding. I’m sure it was my turn next.
Joe pulled off Ethan’s shoes one by one. The smell hit the air so fast. Ethan was wearing black socks with white heel and toe. I actually felt bad for Joe… He had no tolerance to Ethan’s feet.
“Oh man… it’s so bad.” Joe said as his eyes began to water. Riley was laughing pretty hard.
“Come on, nose in the foot.” Ethan said.
“Dude why… I could smell this even if I was standing across the house!” Joe said.
“Joe don’t be a bitch!” Riley yelled to him. Joe shook his head again before burying his face in Ethan’s socked foot.
Ethan used his toes to pull off his sock on one foot, and then the other.
“Tongue…” Ethan said as he wiggled his pudgy toes. Joe hesitantly stuck his tongue out. Ethan slid his toes across Joe’s tongue. Joe gagged.
“How’s that taste Joe!” Ethan yelled.
“Ok… that’s enough.” Joe said as he stood up.
“Yeah that’s good… you were sniffing for about 4 minutes.” Riley laughed.
“Are you fucking kidding me man.” Joe said. He ran to the bathroom and we could hear him spitting and rinsing his mouth out.
“Alright buddy- your turn” Riley said as a looked to me. He went and sat in the corner and pulled off his converse. I followed him over there.
“Lay on your stomach.” Riley said. I did what he asked trying not to come off so willing. His black socks were kind of shiny and almost looked greasy. He stuck his feet side by side on my nose. His stink was definitely not as strong as Ethan’s where it would fill the room, but I could 100% tell he went running that day, his odor was almost cheesier than Ethan’s. He kind of cupped them around my nose. I was getting an erection, taking in Riley’s stink, I’m glad I was laying on my stomach so no one could tell. Ethan was watching from across the room, smiling. Riley took his sock off.
“This is what happens to bitches that lose. How’s that fuckin smell man?” Riley said, only turning me on even more.
“It smells like a greasy cheese…” I said muffled by his foot.
“Cheese? Good, maybe you’d like a taste then… tongue out.” Riley demanded. I slid my tongue across the bottom of his toes. They taste just like they smelled.
“How’s my foot taste? Ethan I think he likes this…” Riley said laughing. Ethan walked over and placed his rank foot on top of my head, pressing my nose and mouth even harder into Rileys foot.
“He’s just used to it, I make him worship my feet sometimes.” Ethan said. Riley laughed. I was slightly embarrassed but I felt almost hypnotized at the scent of Riley and Ethan’s feet mixed together.
A few more moments passed and Riley stood up and Ethan took his foot off my head. Joe finally came back in the room.
“Alright guys, I gotta work early… Thanks for a gross night.” Joe said, still looking a bit ill from licking Ethan’s foot.
We said goodbye and Joe left. Shortly after Riley took off as well. It was just me and Ethan on the couch.
“What a night…” I said. I could still smell Ethan and Riley’s foot stink on my face.
“Yeah it was…” Ethan said. He reached his hand down and started feeling his bulge in his pants.
“Hey, take your pants off. I wanna try something.” Ethan said. I stood up and took my shoes off and my pants.
“Now face the other direction.” Ethan said. I turned around. I could feel Ethan start to touch my butt. We had never done any butt stuff before, so this was new. He pulled my underwear down and put his finger in his mouth. Then into my shaved hole. It hurt a little at first and I was a little tense. It slowly started to feel very nice. He then switched to two fingers and I moaned.
“Fuck boy, you are so tight.” Ethan said as he thrust his fingers in and out.
Suddenly to both of our surprises, Riley popped out of the corner.
“Guys, I don’t think I can drive yet… that beer…” Riley started before he noticed what was going on. He kind of stood there in awe for a few moments. Ethan and I didn’t say anything. We just looked at him, his fingers half way up my hole.
“Uhhh. Some kind of bet I didn’t know about?” Riley said, confused. I noticed he was starting to get hard as the crotch of his shorts started to rise.
“Just a condition of him staying with me… I get to use him as my cum rag…” Ethan said with confidence.
“Huh…” Riley said, still taking in what he was seeing. Riley started to inch closer and ended up sitting next to Ethan. I was shocked to feel that Ethan continued to finger me. I could see Riley out of the corner of my eye on the couch. He had pulled out his cock and was stroking it while watching Ethan finger me!
“I aint gay. But hey, a hole is a hole right? And this boys got a whole other one not in use.” Riley said. He stood up and came around to me. He pulled my head down so his dick was right in my face. He was cut unlike Ethan. He was a bit hairier too.
“Lick my balls.” He said. What was it with this family and always wanted their balls licked first? Not that I minded. I started licking his smelly musty hairy balls. The texture of the hair on his nuts was something I wasn’t used to but I totally got into it. I could feel Ethan push me forward a little and bend me down a bit more. I heard him spit into his hand. It was finally happening. I felt Ethan’s cock start to go into me. It was easier since he used his fingers first. After he got the head in, I felt him slam the rest in behind it. I moaned in pleasure. He felt so good. Meanwhile, I started sucking Riley.
“Yeah suck my fat sweaty fucking dick, bitch.” Riley said, incredibly drunk. He was a lot bigger and thicker than Ethan in that department. Every time Riley tried to push in down my throat I would choke. I could see Riley and Ethan fistbump each other as they destroyed me. Ethan was banging me so hard that I could feel his huge nuts slapping my ass.
“Yeah boy, take my cock.” Ethan demanded. Riley grabbed my head and shoved his cock down my throat all the way to his nuts. My eyes watered .
“I’m gonna paint your fucking face…” Riley said. He abruptly pulled his dick out and jerked it aggressively and blew his load all over my face. I could feel it all dripping down my lips and chin.
"Fuck bitch. You like my hot nut dripping off your face don't ya" he said as he reached down and used his thumb to move a big blob of his cum into my mouth. I cleaned his thumb off. Riley backed up a little bit. Ethan suddenly pushed me down to the ground face first and planted his stinky foot on my face so that his toes were right over my nose. Im not sure how he had it readily available but he shoved one of his disgusting black and white socks from earlier into my mouth. Riley took his shoe and sock off and put his foot on my head next to Ethans. Ethan was still inside of me and banging me while they had me pinned with their feet. He started to go harder and harder. My hole was so sore. But it felt so good.
“Fuck boy… You like that dick wrecking your tight fuckin pussy.” Ethan said as he just kept going harder and faster.
“You gonna take my load while you taste that nasty sock and smell our feet? ” Ethan said.
“Fuck yeah…” I said.
“He loves the cock, taking both our loads…” Riley said.
I suddenly felt Ethan empty himself inside of me. He was out of breath and covered in sweat. He took his foot, now covered with his brothers cum from my face, off my head.
“Now clean my foot off.” Ethan said. I began to lick the cum off his foot, making sure to get it all.
“Damn Ethan, I need a house slut like that.” Riley laughed.
As Ethan’s hot load leaked out of my hole, and I continued cleaning his brothers cum off of his stinky foot, I couldn’t think of anything else I would rather do.
“Yeah… I think he should move in permanently.” Ethan said.
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biacetenebrae · 2 years
Text
Adapting
Destiel fic for @tess-etc​ who wanted tattooed and pierced human Cas after Dean kicks him out of the bunker in season 9. Also fits prompt Day 9 for Suptober 21: Body Mods
M-rated - Self-healing through body art therapy in 6 Chapters 
Summary: “It’s not your problem any more.” Dean’s parting words still echoed in Cas’s head. Had for days now, like an insect bite that, no matter how hard you scratched, would go on itching, and it made him bitchy.
Available on AO3  with proper formatting - apparently tumblr erased my italics and I’m too tired to put them all back in. 
Chapter 1  - Not my problem  
“It’s not your problem any more.”
Dean’s parting words still echoed in Cas’s head. Had for days now, like an insect bite that, no matter how hard you scratched, would go on itching, and it made him bitchy. He had tried to block it out, but nothing seemed to work, at least not long enough to bring any sort of actual relief from the nagging suspicion that it was in fact very much his problem, and he should be doing something about it. Except he couldn’t. And he wouldn’t because Dean had made it clear, “It’s not your problem any more.”
*~*
Being human sucked. Of that, at least, Cas was sure.
Bodily functions were just gross and so inconvenient. Yesterday, he had stubbed his toe in his haste to hide his sleeping bag before Nora walked in on his bedroom aka the Gas-N-Sip storage room and it still hurt today. What was up with that? How had humanity even survived this long?
Not to mention feelings.
Human emotions were somehow worse. Complicated didn’t even begin to cover that clusterfuck; a word he had learned from watching daytime talk shows during the lull at work as part of his studies of human interactions. He’d have much rather learned these things from Sam and Dean, but that was obviously no longer an option because Dean had told him to leave, and was “proud of him” for “adapting”. Apparently, being homeless and eating literal garbage was an essential step when you joined the human race, and merited no further comment or compassion from your so-called friends, Cas thought sourly.  
The Gas-N-Sip door chimed. Cas turned his head, hoping for a blessed distraction, only to find that the customer in question was a tall, athletic woman dressed in plaid and jeans with a ponytail that bounced as she strutted in like she owned the place. Cas loathed her on sight which was a new experience. It only intensified as he watched her grab a few things, knocking over others without bothering to pick them up, leaving the fridge door ajar, and making a mess with her slurpee before she stepped up to the counter, dropping everything with an expression that seemed to say, “Well, what are you going to do about it?”
“Will that be everything?” Cas asked, forcing his mouth to go through the motions as he bagged her things.  
“Uh-hn,” she replied while looking at her cell.
“Your total comes to—“
“Hang on, how much are those?”
Cas looked to where she was pointing. “$5.99.” He refrained from commenting that the giant sign right in front of it said as much.
She gave the nachos a calculating look. “Kay. Hit me.”
“I’m sorry?” He would have to ask Nora, but he was fairly certain that hitting wasn’t part of the Gas-N-Sip customer service experience. Although part of him seemed to think it was a good idea because his right hand balled into a fist out of its own accord.
She rolled her green eyes at him. “The nachos, dumbass. And make it quick. Some of us have an actual life to live, y’know?”
Cas could feel his finger bones crunching. He would have half moon shaped bruises in his palm later. And yet, he somehow managed to stay civil, even in the face of such hubris. After all, he was adapting.
“Certainly.” He pulled a pre-prepared tray from the food warmer and added cheese sauce. He rang her up again. “That’ll be—“
“Where’re the jalapeños?” She looked at him as if he had shaved her poodle and dyed it pink. Cas had seen that look on Jerry Springer reruns.
He could hear his teeth grinding together through his smile, “Those are 50 cents extra.” As also advertised on the sign of course.
She made a face. “In that case, forget the whole thing.”
“So…no nachos?”
“Duh.”
He had battled celestial and infernal beings, gone to hell and back, rebelled against his father and the heavenly host, survived the apocalypse, brought the world close to the brink of another, fallen and rendered mortal because he tried to save the world for a man who had subsequently discarded him like a candy wrapper, and yet, somehow this insignificant human in front of him tested his patience more than any of the above. A few weeks ago, all he’d have to do was—
But that was then, and this was now. He was adapting, although Cas started to think that what he was adapting to was feeling vexed in the presence of arrogant, athletic assholes wearing plaid, thinking they had more important things to do then show a modicum of kindness to their fellow humans. Cas took a deep breath. He cancelled the nachos. “This comes to—“
“On second thought…”
Cas wondered whether he had blinked at the wrong moment and gone to hell. This had Crowley written all over it. He made a note to acquire some holy water to keep behind the counter, maybe in a super soaker.
The thought made his fake smile turn feral as he imagined might-as-well-be demon Plaid Lady screaming as her freckled face melted. It must have shown because the woman did a classic double take and promptly snapped her mouth shut with a loud clack. She tossed a few bills on the counter and all but fled the premises without another word.  
“You have a good day now, ma’am,” called Cas at her retreating back.
He stepped up to the window and watched as she basically dove behind the wheel of her mustang and floored it, tires not quite squealing as she zoomed off. She had left her fuel tank open, and her slurpee on the roof.
Cas clicked his tongue, “Well, not my problem any more.”
His fist finally relaxed.
*~*
Chapter 2 - Follow the bee
The bee caught Cas’ eye even from across the street. Such a small thing amidst the other portfolio pieces in the shop window, and yet it seemed to grab him from a distance and yank hard enough to make him stumble over the threshold into “Fiddler’s Green”.
Last time he had set foot in a tattoo parlour had been out of desperation, only driven by the need for protection: a means to an end. This time, however, it was out of something akin to curiosity, and Cas allowed the atmosphere to sink in.
The place was fairly dark and quiet except for the surr-surr of the tattoo machine from somewhere in the back. Images in frames adorned every inch of the walls. A black couch sat in the corner under a larger than life mirror next to a doorway obscured by heavy, black curtains. It felt…other. Unlike any other human shop he had been to, and despite the oddness, something in Cas’ chest relaxed. There was an energy here that reminded him of a temple in the best possible way. A place of ritual. Like a gateway to another world. Serene and exciting in equal measure. It made Cas feel a little better about having made his last tattoo artist an unwitting accomplice in weaving ancient spell craft. Maybe they were all a bit witchy in their own way, and unlike some other people he knew, Cas had no problem with witchcraft when it was utilized for the Greater Good.
“Hey, how’s it going’?” The lilting voice belonged to a petite woman who had suddenly materialized behind the counter. In this low light, Cas would have mistaken her for a child had it not been for the glinting of her septum ring and the labret.
“Uhm...”
She tilted her head and squinted. “You’re lost.” A statement, not a question.
Cas eyes widened. “How- yes! I mean, no. I know I’m in Idaho Falls to run an errand for my boss, but, well, I saw the bee from across the street and it brought me here. In a manner of speaking.”
Her lips parted, revealing white, even teeth. “Uh hn, why do you think that is?”
Frowning, Cas had to actually ponder the question. Why indeed? He had always felt drawn to bees. They worked hard, made honey, and followed a plan. But more importantly…
“I think a bee knows it has a place in the world, even if it doesn’t understand the bigger picture. Deep down it knows, it contributes to something that is more than the sum of its parts.”
The woman nodded. A flicker of sympathy crossed her face. “Lost. Just as I thought.”
Cas shrugged. “I also like honey.”
She threw her head back and laughed, revealing the flash of metal on her tongue. “You’re funny. I’m Rewa by the way.”
“C- ugh…Steve,” he replied with a cough to cover for almost letting his guard slip. It was this place, and this woman who he was almost certain was a witch, or at least someone in touch with the spiritual realm. Maybe coming here had been a mistake - wouldn’t be his first - he thought wryly, and yet, he didn’t sense any actual danger, just this feeling he had stepped into another realm where the rules of the mundane didn’t apply. It wasn’t heaven or hell, but it sure enough didn’t feel like Earth as he had experienced it in the past few weeks, and for that he was grateful.
“Well, then, do you want to take a closer look?” She reached under the counter and produced a leather bound binder. She flicked through it with ease and turned it toward him. “This is it, yes?”
Cas glanced at the page. “Yes.” He reached out and traced the outline. It was the profile of a honey bee in flight. Intricate and astonishingly lifelike for something so small in black and white. Irrationally, Cas wondered whether it was lonely without the hive. All alone, it would have tried to join another colony, but if the guard bees deemed it insufficient - wrong - they would have kicked it out, or tried to kill it, same end result really. There were of course solitary bees in the world, but they didn’t produce honey. All they did was help pollinate until they died. A honey bee, though, needed a hive, a family, or it would perish.
Cas looked up. “I want to give it a home.”
*~*
Robin had done a remarkable job. Cas looked down at the bee just above his left hip bone. It had healed beautifully. Cas gently stroked across its back, sending a pleasant shiver up his spine. It wasn’t just knowing the bee had a place in the world. Everything about the process had felt right.
The tattoo artists had joined him and Rewa after she had seen her last customer out. They had talked about the bee and Robin made some little on the spot changes to make it really Cas’ own before laying him down to get started. The needle going into his flesh had quickly gone from a sting to a pleasant hum. There was pain, but also pleasure, and a strange sort of relaxation that lingered for days after. Not even the itching during the healing process killed the - ha! - buzz Cas got out of the experience. Clearly, he had missed out the first time around.
“You’re not alone, little bee. I got you.” He smiled at his reflection in the Gas-N-Sip restroom mirror before he tugged his shirt back in and made sure he was presentable before he faced the world again.
“You look well, Steve,” Nora commented.
“Thanks. I feel good. I think I found something special.”
“Great. That’s great. I’m happy for you. I mean for a while you were a bit—“ She bit her lip.
Cas tilted his head. “I was a bit what?”
Nora’s cheeks turned crimson. “Forget it. I didn’t—“
“Nora,” Cas smiled. “I was what? It’s okay, you can tell me.”
She eyed him warily, but Cas had found out recently that humans seemed to have a hard time resisting him when he looked at them earnestly and openly. Something about the color of his eyes, or at least that’s what Rewa and Robin had told him independently while he was at “Fiddler’s Green”. Apparently, Nora was no exception.
“After that night,” she said, no need to elaborate which night she meant, “you were a bit…distant. Truth be told, I got a call from a customer who said you had threatened her.”
Cas’ eyebrows shot up.
“Oh no, don’t worry! I didn’t believe her, of course. I mean, look at you,” she gestured to all of him. “You’re customer service personified. Also, when I asked she said you had looked at her funny which is not much to go on, which I told her. She called me a bitch and hung up.”
After a few seconds, they both started to laugh. When they had caught their breath, Nora touched his arm and said, “Hey, I know you were going through something, but whatever that special thing it is you found, I think it’s good for you,” she said, and quickly added, “unless it’s drugs. It’s not drugs, is it?” She looked alarmed.
“It’s not drugs. But thank you, I think you’re right.” He touched the place where the bee was hidden under his clothes, and smiled.
*~*
Chapter 3 - When a bell rings
It was a slow day at the Gas-N-Sip. Probably because of the rodeo on the other end of town. Nora had begged him to do a double shift so she could go, too, and he didn’t have it in him to refuse her. Not like he had wanted to go anyway, or anything. Who wanted to see cowboys on horsebacks and eat corndogs? Not him, that’s who. Who was he, Dean Winchester? Tsk. Besides there was so much work to be done.
Around 2pm, the shop was spotless. Floors swept. All shelves were stocked. The slurpee machine and nacho heater were pristine and fully loaded. He had even fixed the cupboards behind the counter. There was really nothing to do than sit and wait. Cas flipped through a gossip magazine and tried to remember not to scratch.
The new tattoo on his lower back was healing nicely, just like the protective sigils on his lower arms had. And the two extra bees on his stomach - because the first bee had looked lonely after all. And, of course, the intricate designs on his legs which, put together, charted an abstract map of a better Heaven Cas had dreamed about for some time now.
Robin had been over the moon when she had seen Cas’ sketches. “I’ve never seen anythin’ like it. Where did you get the inspiration for this?”
“Uh, just remembered seeing it on a vacation somewhere.” He couldn’t very well say, from a marvellous artist in South Africa about 60,000 years ago.
He flipped a page. “Manni’s Mansion bought for $25,000,000. New buyer (85) claims she never spends money on anything but necessities,” Cas read aloud. “Ahh, don’t scratch!” He snapped at himself, and added, “Hm, I think I know why I’m still living in a Gas-N-Sip storage room.”
It was true. He didn’t even own a bank account because his entire salary was basically inked into his skin. Snacks and drinks were perks of the job and since he didn’t have to pay rent, he invested solely in self-healing through body art therapy. At least that’s what Rewa had called it when she had pierced his tongue. It had healed nicely, but Nora kept telling Cas off when she caught him playing with it when he was lost in thought.
The meditative lull of the day was interrupted when the door opened and two customers entered. A man, taller and wider than Sam Winchester, dressed in worn clothes that looked like they’d come from an army surplus store and a very pregnant woman with huge hair and even huger sunglasses. Cas put the magazine away and straightened up. He glanced at the cameras and confirmed they were on.
“Bathroom?” The man asked.
“The men’s room is over there,” Cas pointed.
“Not for me, for...me sister,” the man growled, and pulled the woman closer by her upper arm. She stumbled against him with a grunt.
The hairs on the back of Cas’ neck stood up. These two people looked nothing alike, which didn’t mean they weren’t siblings - look at the Winchesters - but you didn’t have to be a veteran warrior of Heaven to detect that something weird was going on here. His customer service smile froze in place when he said, “Right over there, ma’am.”
The man shoved the woman toward the door Cas had indicated and added, “Don’t get cute,” which briefly stopped her in her tracks before she hurried on. Cas upgraded his assessment from “weird” to “alarming”.
He ran through his options. He couldn’t press the panic button because there was no evidence yet of any wrong doing, and all cops were on the other side of town anyway, together with any other conceivable emergency service. He couldn’t confront the guy yet because although he had been rough, he hadn’t actually hurt the woman, and she hadn’t given him any sign she needed his help although it seemed pretty obvious she did.
Soldier boy (as Cas dubbed the guy in his head) went to the back of the store to pick up water and snacks, but kept a close eye on where the woman had gone. Cas may as well have been part of the decor for all the guy seemed to care. That was his opening. Cas picked up an empty bottle tray from behind the counter and walked toward the back of the store which would take him past the toilets. Soldier boy clearly saw, but was obviously not connecting the dots. Cas quickly slipped out of the back door with a step stool. He put it under the bathroom window of the ladies’ room and climbed up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the security camera glaring at him with an angry red light. Cas felt the urge to say, “It’s not what you think,” but thought better of it. Out loud he called, “Ma’am, please don’t be alarmed.”
“What? Where-?”
“Shhhh, he’s busy picking snacks. I couldn’t help but notice, do you need help?”
She started to cry immediately.
“I take that as a yes,” Cas replied. “I’ll call the police.”
“No!” She cried, followed by a hiss.
Cas frowned. “Okaaay. Wha-”
“Please, just help me get away from him.”
“I assure you the authorities are much better equipped to-”
She sobbed. “Cops are on my tail, too. Please, I don’t wanna give birth in prison.”
Cas tried to reassess the situation. Maybe he had gotten it wrong. “What’s your name?
She sniffed. “Beth. Beth Davids.”
“Hi, Beth, I’m Steve.” The false name felt like his trenchcoat by now. It came up easy as a shield between himself and the world. “Who exactly is that man?”
“Bounty hunter. My former boss must’ve hired him. He...please I can’t go back to him, he’s obsessed with me. He...oh god, he had my husband killed. I’m not a bad person, I swear. I just got mixed up with the wrong people.”
“I can relate,” Cas replied with a sigh. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of something. I should head back before he gets suspicious.”
He hurried back inside and grabbed another tray on his way back to the front, only to find his way blocked by soldier boy who was hammering on the bathroom door. “Time’s up, princess!” His head whipped around to glare at Cas, opened his mouth, but decided to sneer instead and focused his attention back on the door.
Cas squeezed past him and tried to think. He rang up the purchases and bagged them to give his hands something to do. There was no way he could take the guy down in one-on-one combat as Steve, the human, unless he managed to sneak up on him, and even then it would be down to luck. Unless...Cas’ eyes fell on the toolbox next to his foot.
“I’m here,” the woman sniffled as she opened the door. She stumbled a bit, one arm protectively wrapped around her stomach.
“Fuckin’ finally! Let’s go.” He grabbed her arm again and pulled her along, ignoring her whimpering.
Cas was out of time. Nora kept a gun behind the counter. Technically, she was the only one who was allowed to use it, but this was an emergency. On the other hand, Cas was terrible with anything but a blade or phenomenal cosmic powers. Currently, he had neither. His only other option was the panic button which triggered a silent alarm. The cops and an EMT would arrive within...many, many minutes. Stupid Rodeo!
The woman squirmed and moaned. “Hurts!”
“Sir,” Cas snapped. “I have to ask you not to manhandle your companion on our premises. Or ever for that matter.”
The guy glared at Cas. “Mind ye own fuckin’ business.”
“I’m afraid this is my business.” Out of sight, Cas’ hand wrapped around the handle of the revolver.
“Shut ye trap if ye know what’s good for ye,” the bounty hunter jeered and threw several dollar bills in Cas’ face.
“Let go of her - now!” But just before Cas could draw the weapon, the woman staggered backwards and, clutching her belly, started to scream. Cas and the bounty hunter exchanged one freaked out “oh shit” look before Cas’ hand abandoned the gun and smashed the alarm button.
*~*
Ten minutes later, soldier boy was lying out cold on the ground with a nasty bump on his head while Cas kneeled behind Beth as she leaned forward over a chair and screamed. Cas caught the baby in his Gas-N-Sip vest just in time when the emergency services arrived.
*~*
“You’re an angel,” Beth said warmly, cradling her newborn girl in her arms as she was lifted into the ambulance, and Cas’ knees almost buckled. He tried to speak, but his mouth was suddenly dry as sandpaper, which was ironic because his eyes started to water at the same time. He managed to wave at her awkwardly before she disappeared from view.
“Is she going to be okay?” Cas asked the cop next to him when the ambulance pulled out onto the road.
“Don’t worry, Steve. She’ll be fine. We’ve her kidnapper in custody. Turns out he’s wanted in three States. Dangerous dude, you got lucky when you nailed him with that wrench.”
“To be fair, he was rather distracted. Beth said the police were looking for her, too. Is she in trouble?”
The cop lifted her eyebrow. She chewed on her lip for a second before she said. “Well, given what you did for her today, I’ll tell you this much. She just needs to agree to testify against someone, and she and her daughter can start a new life.”
Cas sighed in relief. “Okay, that’s good. -Oh, here comes my manager.”
Nora jumped out of her car, her face worried and tense. She took one look at the state Cas was in and said, “I’d give you a hug, but…”
Cas grinned. His clothes were soaked in various fluids and he smelled awful. He couldn’t blame her. “I understand.”
“How are you feeling?”
Cas shrugged. “Good. Sticky.”
Nora chuckled. “You did great. The sheriff called me on my cell, I already know what went down. You’re a bonafide hero, Steve!”
Cas felt the corners of his mouth twitch as he shuffled from foot to foot. “Thanks, I don’t- uhm, thanks.” He was surprised how good it felt to hear those words. Something in his chest unclenched, and for the first time in weeks, he felt he could breathe again.
You’re an angel. You’re a hero.
He looked up when Nora touched his arm. “Take a few days off. Go home. Rest.”
“Ah,” he had to think fast. “Termites. My place is locked down. Found out this morning. I was gonna get a motel room for a few days.”
“Oh, Steve, you’ll have to go out of town. Everything around here is bound to be fully booked ‘cause of the rodeo. I’d offer you my guest room, but my cousin is staying with me.” She pointed at a tall guy in cowboy boots and a moustache next to a black pick-up. He waved when he saw them looking in his direction.
“That’s...that’s fine. I’ll just-”
Nora looked at him with so much sympathy, Cas felt extra guilty for lying to her. He was about to say something when she tossed him her keys. “Here, take my car. I can get a lift with Teddy. Keep it until Monday. Some motels further out will have a space for you. I’ll get the camera footage and talk to the cops. Officer, can Steve go? I think the poor man needs a shower.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you,” Cas said. “I’ve my duffle in the back.”
Nora nodded, and by the time Cas had come out, she pressed four hundred dollars in cash into his hand. “Consider it a bonus. You deserve it,” she said with a wink before she shooed him out of the shop.
*~*
Since he was technically banned from his “home” for two nights, Cas checked into a cheap motel in Idaho Falls and took a long shower. He changed into the only other set of fresh clothes he had which was his FBI suit and trenchcoat, and headed into town.
You’re an angel. You’re a hero.
His feet carried him on auto-pilot.
You’re an angel. You’re a hero.  
The bell over the door rang. Rewa looked up and smiled. “Hey you! -Robin, it’s Steve.”
Robin appeared from behind the curtain. “Back already?”
Cas grinned, “I think I’ve earned my wings today.”
*~*
Chapter 4 We can fix that
His phone chimed at the crack of dawn with a text from Dean. “Call me when U get this.”
Cas blinked the sleep out of his eyes and sat up, motel mattress creaking with every move. He winced when the tape holding the bandage in place pulled on his skin. He spared a glance at the towel he had put underneath him and was happy to see it had barely any ooze on it. Robin had called it a blessing. Cas tended to bleed very little and apparently healed remarkably fast. He had chuckled wryly and thought, “You have no idea what fast healing really looks like, my friend.” He couldn’t very well tell her that his vessel used to contain the grace of an angel which was bound to have some side effects.
He stared at the words for several minutes. This was the first message from Dean since he had dropped him off at the Gas-N-Sip all those months ago, and told Cas, “It’s not your problem any more”, and now it’s suddenly, “Call me”?
What could Cas possibly have that Dean wanted, now that he was a mere mortal? Especially after it had been made very clear that what little he had to give, wasn’t good enough for team Winchester. So, why the text? Years of friendship and sacrifices, and when Cas had needed him the most, Dean had shown him the door. It still stung. Hurt in ways Cas had not felt before in his long, long existence.
He tossed the phone back on the bedside table and decided he needed a shower and caffeine before he could deal with Dean Winchester.
Cas went into the bathroom and peeled off the bandage before he stepped under the spray. It felt amazing. Prefect pressure and a slight sting where the water hit the fresh tattoo on his left side. Self-healing through body art therapy indeed.
He smiled and stuck his pierced tongue out to catch a few drops, letting the sensations carry him away from the pain in his heart until it was just a dull ache in the back of his mind.
After the shower, he wiped the mirror and caught sight of his reflection. It was amazing how much a man could change in a few weeks. A lot of his skin was covered in tattoos. Almost all his own designs. Robin loved them and had joked they should go into business together. He absentmindedly pinched his nipple and gasped. Maybe he should let Rewa pierce him here, too? He had also definitely lost weight, his vessel more sinews and lean muscles than the bulk of a warrior. And yet, he had saved Beth and her daughter from god knows what fate. He had done that with no magic, no blade, no grace. Just guts and luck. Cas turned and looked over his shoulder as he spread out his arm to look at his new wing, the feathers reaching all the way to his elbow.
Angel. Hero. Human.
And for the first time, that line of thought filled him with pride. Maybe Dean couldn’t see it, but Cas could see it now through the eyes of the people he had been fortunate enough to meet: he had value, he could still help, he could make a difference.
By the time he was ready to hit the coffee place across the street, two more texts had arrived.
“Are U up yet? On the road in 5.”
“Driving now from Glasgow, MT. Call me anyway.”
Cas clicked his tongue. “Maybe later. I’m adapting.” And shut his phone off.
*~*
A few hours later, Cas was lying on his stomach. The surr-surr of the tattoo needle a meditative background noise as he watched “Golden Girls” reruns on the TV in the backroom of “Fiddler’s Green”. Robin had cleared her schedule for her favourite customer so they could finish the other wing.
“Hey, Steve, this is gonna smart for a few day. When’s your shift tomorrow?” Robin asked.
“Not sure. Should probably check that.” He replied groggily, and groped for his phone from his back pocket, turned it back on and nearly dropped it because it would not stop buzzing from all the text notifications coming in.
“Someone’s tryin’ to get your attention,” Robin remarked and sat back. “We can take a break if you need to get that.”
Cas scrolled through the 30 odd texts from Dean without really reading them. “No, not really.”
She chuckled. “Lemme guess. Ex?”
Cas turned his head and was about to deny it, but what came out was, “Something like that.”
“Aw, shucks! You okay?”
He sat up and thought for a minute. “Mostly. Yeah, I think I am. In large part, thanks to you and Rewa.” He smiled.
Just in that moment, Rewa came in as if summoned. “That’s so sweet. I’m glad we’re helping. You wanna talk about it? -Here, my love.” She handed Robin a fresh coffee, who smiled at her like a besotted puppy.
Cas watched the exchange with a pang in his heart. It must have shown on his face because Rewa said, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
“No, no. It’s not- it’s fine. You guys are amazing. It’s wonderful to see.”
They beamed at him before Rewa asked, “But? There’s a but, right?”
He sighed. How could you even begin to explain his relationship with Dean Winchester? What was left when you filtered out heaven and hell?
“He-” Rewa and Robin exchanged a quick glance like people do when they share an inside joke, Cas let it go, and tried again. “Dean and I were friends. Best friends. Family. Only, not exactly.”
Robin and Rewa nodded. “There was more to it, wasn’t there?” Rewa asked.
“Yes, I always thought so. Went through a lot together.” Cas could feel his eyes drifting as he relived the past, remembered all the insane things he and the Winchesters had done for the greater good. And to what end? He could feel the bitterness raise its ugly, jagged head again in his chest. He swallowed hard, trying to squash it back into the pit, but since he had never really talked to anyone about this before, it felt as though a dam had been broken and there was no more running from the flood.
“What happened?” Robin asked.
“He threw me out. Told me to leave.”
“What, just like that?” Rewa and Robin stared at him full of sympathy and outrage.
He nodded. “Yes, just like…” his eyes started to sting, “...like I’m no longer good enough for him.” It hurt to say it out loud.
“Oh, hon!” Rewa pulled him into a careful hug which meant she was mostly clinging to his neck, but he didn’t mind. He rested his cheek on her shoulder for a few moments and squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn’t appreciated until now how good human contact could feel. Something raw and sharp inside his heart seemed to smooth over and stayed soft even when she let him go again.
Robin laid her hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze. “Whoever this Dean is, it’s his loss. I mean look at you, hot stuff. With your baby blues. And that bod. Even hotter with my ink all over it, of course.” She winked at him.
“Thank you. I admit I feel more at home in my ve-...body since I met you.”
“Good for you! Hold onto that! I mean, come on, Steve, you helped a woman give birth in a Gas-N-Sip after knocking her kidnapper out cold - how badass is that?” Rewa chimed in and patted his cheeks. It made Cas smile. He wiped the corners of his eyes.
“Yeah, screw Dean! Hey, come with us to “Sapphire” later. Nothin’ boosts your confidence than havin’ every cute guy in Idaho Falls tryin’ to charm their way into your pants.”
“Who is Sapphire?” Cas asked slightly overwhelmed, and not at all sure he wanted to have strangers in his pants. Although a part of him perked up at the thought of more close human contact.
“Not who. What! It’s an underground club for local artists that’s literally underground in an old parkin’ garage. They’re open Sundays ‘cause most of our businesses are closed on Mondays - so, party!”
“Yeah, you should come. It will be fun.” Rewa agreed.
“I don’t know.” Cas chewed on his bottom lip, although it did sound like it might take his mind of Dean. “But the tattoo is not done, and it’s going to sting.”
Robin gave him a smug look. “I can fix that, and tequila shots’ll fix the rest.”
“But I’ve nothing to wear.” He literally did not. He hadn’t gotten around to doing laundry yet which was probably how he was going to have to spend the evening.
“We can fix that!” Rewa and Robin said in unison.
“I should really-”
“Whatever it is, we can fix that!” Rewa declared. “Tonight we can do anything. Come on, Steve, live a little!” She grinned and announced she’d pick up some clothes for him from a friend who was his size, leaving him and Robin to finish up.
An hour later, the second wing was finished and wrapped up tightly. “Just don’t go crazy on the dance floor tonight.”
“I wouldn’t even know how,” Cas replied earnestly, and before Robin could open her mouth, he chuckled, “Let me guess, you can fix that.”
*~*
At 6:25pm Cas had just struggled into the skinny black jeans Rewa had procured for him when his phone rang. It was Nora.
“Hello?” Cas answered.
“Steve! Oh god, you’re okay!”
He frowned. “Yes, of course I am. What’s wrong? Why are you whispering?”
“I’m in the back. Your friend, the one who came by a few months ago, the one with the black Chevy. He’s here in the shop. He says you aren’t answering your phone. He seems pretty upset.”
Oh. Maybe he should have paid a little closer attention to Dean’s texts.
“Anyway,” she continued. “I told him I’d try and call you and made up some excuse about my phone being in the storage room. He’s waiting out front. What shall I tell him? Steve, are you in trouble? Does this have anything to do with the guy and that woman?”
Cas closed his eyes and tapped his cell against his forehead a few times. He remembered all the things Dean had said to him. How utterly alone he had felt after Dean had dismissed him. How Dean had looked down on him last time they’d met. Bile rose in his throat. He swallowed hard and put the phone back to his ear.
“No. This is different. I’m fine. Tell him you couldn’t reach me, but that I’ve texted you recently. Tell him I asked if I could have another day off because I’ve been invited to a party in Idaho Falls.”
There was a moment of stunned silence before Nora said, “Okay. What if he asks-”
“Tell him the truth: you don’t know.”
He could hear her frowning. “Steve-”
“Nora, it’s okay. He’s-,” fuck it, she thought he was gay anyway, “-he’s my ex.”
After another pronounced silence, Nora finally replied. “I get it now. I’ll tell him. And Steve?”
“Yeah”
“You can have tomorrow off. But I need my car back tomorrow evening by 6, okay?”
“Understood, and Nora? Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Yeah, me too.” Cas hung up.
*~*
Chapter 5 Sapphire
Cas had decided to walk from his motel since parking downtown was a nightmare and it gave him time to think. For a normal, law-abiding person, it was a thirty minute drive from the Gas-N-Sip to Idaho Falls which meant Dean was probably in the city for well over an hour now, searching for him. Since Dean shared many personality traits with a honey badger, Cas figured he had about two hours before they would meet again, and he had no idea how he was supposed to feel about that.
Ever since he had spoken about Dean and what he had done, a myriad of emotions had bubbled up and fought for attention, pulling him in all sort of directions. It was like he was marooned on a raft at sea on one of those maps of a flat Earth with no land in sight, only knowing he was drifting toward the edge and the inevitable.
By the time he had reached the club around 8pm, he was none the wiser, but Rewa and Robin were waiting for him next to a sign proclaiming “Happy Hour 8-9”, and Cas thought being happy for at least an hour would do him a world of good.
“Hey, Steve,” Robin called. “Come meet our friends. This is Connor - you’re wearing his threads. And those magnificent creatures over there are Lars and Lottie. And before you ask, yes, they are twins, and 6’4” and 6’2” respectively.”
When Cas frowned at that very specific introduction, Rewa shrugged and added. “It saves time. They’re cool with it.” Lottie and Lars nodded in agreement.
Cas waved at them all and thanked Connor for letting him borrow his clothes.
“Yeah, no sweat. Look better on you anyway, sugar.” Connor winked at him. “Rewa said we’re to cheer you up because your ex is a stalker and an ass. -ouch!”
“I also told you not to say anything - look, you’re making him uncomfortable!” Rewa smacked Connor again who stuck his tongue out at her. Cas couldn’t help but notice that he and Connor had matching piercings.
“That’s, uh, that’s very kind of you. It’s fine really. Dean’s not a stalker, just...it’s complicated.” Cas mumbled, shifting from foot to foot.
“I never said he was a stalker!” Rewa protested.
“Yeah, you did. You said he was sending Steve a thousand texts a day. That’s what stalkers do when they want your attention,” Connor shot back.
“I really don’t think-” Cas tried but Rewa and Connor ignored him as they stood nose to nose and glared daggers at each other.
“Oh boy, here we go again,” Lottie sighed. She looked at Cas. “Ignore them, they always do this.”
“Leave them to it. Why don’t we head inside?” Lars, who could pass for a Hemsworth brother, said in a deep voice that did something funny to Cas’ stomach. “Our new friend here looks like he needs a drink, or five.”
“I do,” Cas said solemnly which made everyone laugh for some reason, but Cas figured it was a win and a sign these new people had accepted him into the group, so all was well.
*~*
A few hours later, Cas was warm and sweaty from all the dancing everyone had cajoled him into, and had a pleasant buzz going. The twins had gone to mingle with a promise to return with more drinks while he and Connor were taking a break seated in a booth toward the back and watched in awe as Robin and Rewa tore up the dancefloor.
“They used to compete internationally,” Connor yelled at him over the music after licking cream off his White Russian. “Came in second place at the world championship,” he added as Robin lifted Rewa over the back of her wheelchair into a full flip. The whole club cheered.
“I believe it. They’re amazing!”
“Yeah? You know who else is amazing?” Connor asked, his lips suddenly very close to Cas’ ear.
“Uhm…” Cas felt the sudden urge to drain is Tequila Sunrise in one go.
“You are,” Connor finished predictably, and nudged Cas’ neck with his nose. Goosebumps spread across Cas’ arms.
“I couldn’t take my eyes off you ever since you walked up the street in my favourite black button up, with those inked arms, and the hair, and your eyes - I could write a thousand poems just about those blue, blue eyes of yours. But since you rubbed all over me to “Your Disco Needs You” earlier, I’ve been dying to show you what I can do with this,” he stuck his tongue out and licked Cas’ cheek, the piercing dragging pleasantly over his stubble. But when Connor’s hand descended on his knee, Cas pulled away.
“What’s wrong, sugar?” Connor straightened up in his seat.
“I’m sorry. I think I might have inadvertently given you the wrong idea,” Cas pressed out, not quite meeting Connor’s gaze. “I think you’re a very nice man, and you smell nice too-” Connor flashed his teeth at the compliment as if he couldn’t quite stop himself, “ -but I’m not looking for this sort of companionship right now.”
“Ah. Well, I see. That’s a shame. You are so my type, y’know. Rewa did tell me not to push it, but hey, can’t blame a starving man for trying a little bite at a banquet, right?” He winked. “No hard feelings, yeah?”
Cas sighed in relief. “No hard feelings.” Although he wondered at the odd metaphor, but before he could overthink whether Connor was a creature of the night, Rewa and Robin rejoined them.
“Hey, what’s goin’ on here? You guys havin’ fun?” Robin asked, brushing a loose strand of hair from her forehead.
“Yes, just taking a breather, aren't we?” Connor gave Cas a friendly nudge under the table.
“What he said,” Cas agreed, and drained the dregs from his drink as the loudspeakers started to play the first chords of “I Will Survive” and the dancefloor filled up again.
“The man needs another drink,” Connor declared and took the glass out of Cas’ hand. He was about to get up when a shadow fell over the table.
“Cas?”
At first I was afraid, I was petrified.
Everyone turned toward the newcomer.
“Hello Dean.”
Three sets of eyebrows shot into hairlines. Connor’s mouth shaped into a silent, “Oh.”
Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side.
“Damn, Cas, I’ve been lookin’ all over for you. I was worried sick.”
“Thank you for your concern. As you can see, I’m quite well.”
“I’m sorry, who’s Cas? Are you Cas, Steve?” Robin asked.
Cas didn’t take his eyes of Dean’s. “It’s his pet name for me.”
But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong.
“Pet -what?” Dean frowned before he seemed to decide this was not important right now. “Whatever. Why didn’t you answer your damn phone?”
“Now, hold on, Dean! Steve doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to. And if he doesn’t want to talk to you then that’s none of your goddamn business.” Rewa snarled into Dean’s face, or his chest really. Nevertheless, Dean took a step back at the onslaught of not quite five-foot of absolute fury, especially since everyone around them chimed in with a chorus of “Yeah!” Which included the rock solid wall Dean seemed to have bumped into which turned out two be Lottie and Lars.
And I grew strong.
“I can take care of myself, Dean.”
“I know! Can’t a man worry about his best friend? I heard what went down at the Gas-N-Sip on the news. Why don’t you want to talk to me?” Dean’s focus snapped back to Cas, mouth pressed into a grim line, but his eyes looked sad.
Cas opened his mouth, but Rewa got there first.
“Oh, you have some nerve! After what you did to him? Throwing him out like trash! Did you ever even consider what it would do to him?” Rewa was yelling loud enough to turn heads from people around them. “You know what, Dean? He doesn’t need your crap any more. He’s got friends now who care.”
There was another chorus of yeahs from everyone, mingled with Robin’s, “Babe, I love you so hard right now.”
And I learned how to get along.
And so you're back.
From outer space.
I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face.
I should have changed that stupid lock, I should have made you leave your key.
If I'd known for just one second you'd be back to bother me.
“Cas, what the hell is going on?” Dean asked, more confused than angry, and still only looking at Cas as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.
“I’ve adapted. Just like you said.” It hurt to see Dean. Now that he had allowed himself to feel how much Dean’s actions had damaged his self-confidence, his faith in people and in friendship, it really fucking hurt. “Please leave.”
Go on now, go, walk out the door
Just turn around now
'Cause you're not welcome anymore
Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye?
You think I'd crumble?
You think I'd lay down and die?
Oh no, not I, I will survive
Dean held his gaze for another few seconds before he turned around and after a tense moment, the twins stepped aside, and Dean left without looking back.
*~*
Chapter 6 Love, maybe
Cas came to tied to a chair. His head hurt something awful. He blinked and made out a shape sitting at the edge of his bed in the motel.
“Mornin’ sunshine,” Dean said in a voice that stood in stark contrast to his cheerful words.
“Dean? What’s going on?” He had to snap his mouth shut or he might have puked. He closed his eyes again as the room started to spin.
The chime of a cell phone made him dare open his eyes to slits. He watched Dean look at something on his phone and frown. Dean’s fingers tapped on the screen for a few seconds before he slipped the cell into his back pocket as he stood up.
“What are you doing?” Cas licked his lips, they felt chapped and dry as desert sand. “May I have some water, please?”
“Sure, here.” Dean held a glass of somewhat stale water to his lips, but Cas gulped it down anyway. His stomach growled, but he managed to keep it down.
“Thanks.” He took a few measured breath and opened his eyes to take in his surroundings.
“My pleasure.”
“Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“Why am I tied to a chair in the center of a devil’s trap?”
“Well, let’s see. I saw on the news that you - Cas - had knocked out a guy and played doula at your workplace. So I figured I’d better check in, see everything’s ok. But you weren’t answerin’, so I drove 9 hours, tryin’ to tell myself your phone had died, and imagine my surprise when your boss told me you had texted her just then. Phone not dead, you not dead, so I had no idea what the hell was goin’ on and I decided to come find you. And when I did, there you were, five seconds away from playin’ tonsil hockey with some douchebag, and then a whole lot of crazy screamed at me and my best friend told me to go fuck myself. And I know Cas, and he ain’t like that. So who or what are you?”
Dean stood in front of him, arms crossed in front of his chest. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked absolutely livid.
“It’s me. Castiel. Former angel. We saved the world together - a lot.”
“Uh-hn. Try again.”
Cas sighed. “Dean.”
“That was better. Sounded almost like him.”
“What do you want me to say?” He winced. The rope was biting into his skin.
“Where is Cas?” Dean enunciated, grabbing his chin. “You just drank holy water. I’ve pressed a silver knife to your arm. I know you’re no demon, no shifter, no werewolf. I’ve been through the list. No hex bags either. I texted Sam those weird markings on your forearms. He says they are protective seals from pretty much every culture on Earth, extinct or otherwise, but it’s no spell.”
Cas stared at Dean for a few heartbeats with his mouth open. It was almost endearing how hard Dean tried to save him. It made something stir in Cas’ chest. He had been so focused on his anger and disappointment lately that he had almost forgotten why he had put up with Dean for so long. Honey badger, indeed. There wasn’t a more stubborn or determined man on Earth. Fiercely loyal to those he loved. And yet.
“Why did you send me away?” The question that had been burning bright ever since he had allowed himself to process what had happened.
“What?” Dean straightened up.
“You told me I couldn’t stay, why?”
“I...I told you. It was-”
“No,” Cas growled. “No, I’m done hearing your bullshit. I know I’m just human, but I’m not useless, I know that now.”
“I never said you were. Where’s that comin’ from?” Dean looked horrified.
“Do you have any idea what it was like? I ate garbage, Dean. I slept in the streets. I was so scared. I felt so small. And when I thought I was safe, with friends, you showed me the door. I thought you cared about me, so tell me, why!?” He was screaming by the end of the sentence. Tears were forming at the corners of his eyes. He angrily tried to blink them away, only to make them run down his cheeks. He stared at Dean who stared right back at him. Seconds passed, and then Dean was on his knees, awkwardly wrapping his arms around Cas’ shoulders.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” He buried his face in Cas’ neck and said it over and over, holding him a little too tight until Cas winced. Dean jerked back. “Here, let me get that.” He cut the ropes and helped Cas up before he hugged him again.
“Why did you do it?” Cas whispered, still trying to understand, and a little mad at himself for how utterly relieved he felt to be held by Dean like this. Like he cared. “I think I need to lie down.”
“Yeah, yeah, lemme help you. There you go.”
Cas shimmed onto his back and looked up at Dean. “Come here.”
“What?” Dean asked weakly.
“Lie down. You look ready to keel over, and you still owe me an explanation. I’d rather you didn’t pass out before I get it.”
“That’s fair, I guess.” Dean replied, already climbing onto the other side of the bed. They rolled onto their sides, facing each other.
“Hello Dean,” Cas smiled. He was so tired. His head hurt, so did his back and wrists, but he was here with Dean and somehow everything else wasn’t all that important any more.
“Hey Cas,” Dean replied. “I...I didn’t want you to go. I need you to know that. Sendin’ you away, was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But I had no choice.”
“What does that mean?”
Dean squeezed his eyes shut. Cas reached out and touched his cheek, and to his amazement, Dean leaned into the touch. He marvelled at his own bravery. A few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have dared to cross that line, would have only accepted what was offered, but now he knew he was worth something, and he was brave enough to make an offering of his own.
“The angel who helped me heal Sam is possessin’ him. He told me you had to go, or he would be forced to leave, too, to protect himself, and Sam would die.”
The words had come out in a rush, sweeping over Cas like an avalanche, almost too fast to process. His eyes went wide. “What? Why? Ezekiel would never do such a thing.“
“Well, he did.” Dean reached for Cas’ hand again and placed it back on his cheek, covering it with his own. “I’m sorry Cas. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you through. I swear I’ll make it up to you. Whatever you want. You’re my best friend, goddamnit.”
Torn between the surprising tender gesture, and the need to investigate to help his friends, Cas allowed it, but said, “We should go. We need to find out who is possessing Sam. I guarantee it’s not Ezekiel. I can’t even think of an angel powerful and selfish enough to do something like this except-”
As if he was reading his mind, Dean said, “He’s still in the cage. And I dunno, he doesn’t feel evil, also he doesn’t sound like Lucifer at all. You sure it’s not your pal?”
“I’m sure, let’s go.” Cas tried again to sit up, but Dean pulled him back down.
“It’s 4:30 in the mornin’. We’re both exhausted. Sam is not in immediate danger. It can wait until we’ve had some shut eye.”
“But-”
“Shhh, sleepin’,” Dean said, toeing off his boots. He had his eyes closed, and still held onto Cas’ hand.
“Dean?”
“Hm?”
“Thank you for telling me.”
“Should’ve done that from the start. ‘m stupid. ’m sorry. I think I’ll have to apologize to you for the rest of our lives.”
“Hn. We’ll see. G’night, Dean.”
*~*
The shower was running when Cas woke up hours later. He could hear Dean banging around in the bathroom in the way he did when he tried to be extra quiet.
Cas smiled and rolled onto his back. He hissed when he remembered the tattoo and sat up. By some miracle nothing had leaked out of the wrapping, but it was high time to take it off and clean up. He stripped out of Conner’s clothes down to his boxer briefs and knocked on the bathroom door.
“Yeah?”
“Are you almost done? I got to clean up the tattoo.”
“I...what? Hang on, I’m almost done.” The shower was turned off, followed by more banging and swearing until the door swung open and Dean stood there, damp, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips, and for the first time since he had raised him from hell, Cas could very objectively appreciate how well built Dean was. Other parts of Cas’ body seemed to agree with that assessment which could get awkward really fast. He needed Dean to move aside, and now.
Dean, however, seemed to be frozen in place from the second he had laid eyes on Cas.
“Can I…?” Cas tried, but to no avail.
When Dean seemed to remember how words worked, he said, “Wow. You have a lot of ink in your skin.”
Cas shuffled from foot to foot, willing certain other interested body parts of his vessel to ignore the lovely sight of almost naked Dean. “I like them.”  
“Yeah, I mean, yeah…”
Feeling self-conscious against his better judgement, and desperate enough for privacy, Cas stepped forward and squeezed past Dean into the bathroom. The mirror was fogged which was why he couldn’t see Dean’s expression until he heard him swear and turned around.
“Holy shit!” Apparently, Dean had to grab his towel to stop it from slipping.
“What?” Cas asked, irritated, mostly because he couldn’t tell whether Dean’s reactions were good or bad.
“Your wings - they’re awesome. Do you need help gettin’ that off?”
So, probably good reactions, which was nice, but made Cas feel stupidly self-conscious again. “I’ll be fine.” He started to peel off the tape holding the wrapping in place.
“You sure, I mean I could-”
“Dean,” Cas glared at him. “I could really use some coffee.”
“Oh, right. Sure, whatever you want. I’ll...I’ll get us breakfast.” Dean was still rooted to the spot.
“Go!”
“Goin’!”
Cas sighed when Dean closed the door. One more minute and he wouldn’t have been able to hide any more how much he had appreciated the view. He looked down at his vessel. “Down boy!”
*~*
Dean had made good on his promise to bring breakfast. He had gone all out. Coffee, donuts, sandwiches, even sausages and eggs were spread out on the small table when Cas came out of the bathroom, a towel around his hips while drying his hair with another.
As soon as he emerged, Dean did that thing again where he seemed to freeze in place, mouth hanging open, bits of donut clinging to his lips. It made Cas want to do silly things like lick them off before running away to hide forever for wanting things he shouldn’t want from his best friend. Especially since they had just started to rebuild their friendship. What he did instead was ask if Dean had any spare clothes he could borrow since hadn’t done laundry yet. He wasn’t entirely sure Dean had heard him because all that happened was for Dean to emit a high pitched sound and clutch the table edge.
“Are you okay, Dean?”
Dean blinked at him. “Yes.” He didn’t sound okay.
Cas wasn’t sure what was going on and decided maybe this would perhaps make more sense after a sip of coffee. He picked up his cup and licked his lips after a very satisfying sip. Dean’s donut fell onto his plate. Cas looked up.
“Is that...Cas, did you pierce your tongue?” The word sounded oddly clipped as if Dean had to force himself to get them out.
“No. Rewa did. I’m thinking of getting my nipples done as well.”
In the silence after that statement, Cas could hear Dean swallow.
Oh. Oh!
He went for broke. “Dean, do you like what you see?”
Dean’s eyes met his, followed by an almost imperceptible nod. Something hot and white started to spread through Cas’ body. He could feel his skin heating up. He sat the coffee down and stepped closer to Dean who instinctively turned and spread his legs, allowing Cas to step in the space between.
For a moment, they just looked at each other, and Cas reminded himself over and over that he had value, that he was worthy. Worthy of respect, of friendship, to love and be loved as he bent down and licked the donut powder off Dean’s lips.
When he was about to pull back, Dean chased his lips with his own. Moments later towels and clothes lay forgotten on the floor while Dean came up with a few dozen new ways to apologize to Cas who accepted them graciously.
*~*
It was almost noon when Cas woke from a post-coital snooze. His phone was buzzing from the floor. He fished it up and indulged Dean who was grumbling into the pillows and blindly reaching for him to lie down again for a snuggle.
Once Dean was happily resting on Cas’ chest again, Cas checked on the text he had gotten from Rewa. He vaguely remembered how she and Robin had walked him home last night.
“R U ok?”
“Yes. Still in bed.”
“Alone?”
Cas bit his lip. “No.”
“Ah hon, I had a feeling. I hope U know what U R doing.”
“Thank you. For everything. He apologized. Several times. ;-)”
“He should. I hope U made him grovel.”
“Dean, Rewa thinks I should make you grovel.”
Dean snorted and smacked his lips. “Tell her she’s right, and I plan on showin’ you how wrong I’ve been for as long as you can stand me.”
“Oh, you mean forever?” Cas had meant it to be playful, but he could feel Dean tense for a moment, his breath catching in his throat.
Dean lifted his head and scooted up until his nose touched Cas’. “Yeah, if that's what it takes. I’m all yours.”
The End
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namjoonchronicles · 3 years
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↳ genre fluff, established relationship, dad Taehyung
↳ words 4k
↳ summary a trip back to hometown for a friend turned into something memorable which embarked something deep in Taehyung’s heart. 
↳ notes i discussed the premise of this story with my good friend @hellotherehoneybee​ and based on her ideas, i prolonged the length and added some plots to push a heavy turn so appropriately, the summary here is thanks to her. 
↳ warning mentions of childbirth, vivid descriptions of the scene, major character death
↳ song taylor swift ‘gold rush’, imagine dragons ‘levitate’, taio cruz ‘telling the world’, taylor swift ‘ you’re in love’
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“Taehyung… tea?”
Sand cuffed the shore. Half painted coast on the canvas. The wind blew rather harshly and every strike of wind, Taehyung’s wild mane of hair ruffled against themselves. They were long enough to cover his eyes but it didn’t stop him from painting the colours on his canvas. He blinks at the view of the sea and how it doesn’t change despite the years passed by. He wore slippers with an open toe, a baggy shirt and baggy trousers. His eyes looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Sunken cheeks and empty eyes, his jaw was immaculate and his face was crafted by God. He is beautiful in this light. So beautiful. 
“What are you drawing so seriously?” you asked. But no answers from him. As it should.
Six, maybe ten years back, this caravan was parked here. Pair of hands raised to the ceiling. The sunlight sieved through the blinds. The pair laced themselves, and toyed around. The make out of the knuckles under this light, showed how veiny his hands were than yours. Small chuckles and soft whispers accommodate the serene and tranquil moment. The caravan was parked by the sea. His easel leaned against the kitchen counter next to the sink. His whole body covered yours as you snuggled in bed. You thumbed his supple cheeks and traced the shape of his lips as he lay half-awake. You ran your index finger down the slope of his pretty nose and counted his eyelashes, you lined the edges of his brows and ran your hand through the locks of his brown hair that looked lighter in the sun. He moans sweetly at your touch. 
You proceed to trace your fingers down the helix of his ears, his excellent jaw lines and chin. There's prickling hair ends at the chin and you thought that he might need a shave. You remembered how bad he was at shaving. You even suggested that he should stop shaving all the way. The smile he had on when you said it was priceless. Then he remembered that society wouldn’t have allowed him to live. Taehyung’s eyes half-opened at the stimulating touch. He breaks a smile in his sleepy state and he crunches his nose at the view of you. You swore, you had never seen anyone that beautiful. He nuzzles into your face and neck, planting kisses where he can and he spoke, in his drowsiness, “I’m so sleepy.”
He gets on top of you and buries his face in your neck. Through lighthearted giggles, you say, “You’re heavy, big bear…” While making no effort to push him away. He feels like a weighted blanket you always wanted when you’re younger. Warm and snuggly. Gentle and tender. He smells like a pillow and his hair is soft. He loves it when your fingers thread through his hair, just caressing the glorious length, he’ll make sounds that are so lovely. You brushed your lips on top of his head and one arm around him. They never meet the total length of his shoulders because they were too broad. So you end up scratching the fabric of his thin shirt. Had the weather been warm enough, he would have rather slept in his skins. You whispered softly, as you felt him drifting back to sleep in his new found comfort, “If you don’t get up now, we are going to be very late…” 
And we won’t be able to help around like we planned.
Jeju’s beaches are breathtakingly beautiful. Especially in Handam. Where the waters are brilliant blue and the skies azure. The black rocks, rubbles, kissing the shore. It would make a fine painting, this scenery. Taehyung poked his head out the caravan door at you, 
“I thought you said we’re late?” 
You glanced over your shoulder and gave him a sheepish smile. Jogging lightly back into the caravan, you pinched his sides as you walked in. 
In fact, you weren’t late. You were not late at all. Taehyung’s eyes had always been inviting. Beautiful brown irises so encapsulating they almost felt unreal. It was those eyes that your friends recognised. They quickly adopted him once he carried in all the groceries like he is one of them. The crowd roars as they see you because they know it will shrink you. You were never good at crowds, so you covered your ears and physically shrunk while laughing till your eyes turned to crescents on their own. Quickly, the host came to the rescue, gathering you in her arms and calling off those people that are bothering you. At once, Taehyung had disappeared to make new friends and greet the old ones. 
“A baby shower, this late?” you stared at your friend, Junhee quizzically. She pursed her lips and stared off to the corner of the room while tucking your arm in hers.
“I wanted an excuse to see my good friend,” she said with a cunning grin, then she cowers, falls silent in a sudden, her palm rubbing over her swollen belly. Nine months in, any day now. You knew in your heart that it was a bad idea, but still, her husband, Jimin, felt like it was okay to hold these gatherings for her. Jimin would do anything to make her happy. Then, she hisses. And you start to cower over her, pulling the chair closer for her to sit. 
“Is it the contraction? Has any contraction happened today?” 
“No, this is the first…” 
Junhee seemed to have calmed down after she rested. You still wanted to talk to Jimin if you had the time, asking why he’d think it was a good idea to hold the party anyways. You had your answer when he walked in, snapping the fridge door open for a cold drink refill.
“She looked so miserable these past few days, I just wanted to see her smile,” Jimin carried two bottles of fruit punch as he brushed shoulders with you. Then, a toddler came crawling in, on all fours, stopping just by your feet and falling onto her bum and sat. Her twinkling eyes ushers you to carry her up. 
“Where did you come from, little one?” You cooed. She curls up to your neck, and starts babbling. Then you suddenly felt her little hand roaming around your clothed boobs, and when she felt she found the tip, she began suckling. And you laughed out loud. Loud enough to have everyone's attention on you, including Taehyung’s. The baby’s mother rushed to you in her loose ponytail, handling another two slightly older children that were at her feet. One is tugging at her blouse and the other wailing so loud, you became concerned. You helped her into a nursing room, Jimin’s wife had prepared. It was a short tattling walk away from where you were. The baby was hungry. She’s four months old and today was her first day out since she was born and was brought home. You were glad that the number of guests didn’t scare one bit. 
Taehyung had distributed the barbecued sausages to the kids around. He had the sharp sticks taken out and was helping to blow the heat from the sausages from one of the kids. He looks pretty much at home with everything. It’s probably been awhile because he finally saw you out the room carrying the baby, her little stodgy fingers curled around your thumb and she is gurgling. What a beautiful sight it was. It seemed you might have heard his thoughts when you looked up to the side and had the baby waved to Taehyung. He chuckles through his nose and crinkles his eyes at the little one, making a funny face. The little toddler extended her short petite arms and grabbed air repeatedly at Taehyung’s presence. Then you motioned her closer to Taehyung.
“I think she wants you to carry her…” 
“Me?” He sounded unsure, uncertain, but, he brushed invisible dust off his palm on his butt and, “It’s been awhile but. Okay.” Arms open, collecting the toddler in.
The pinkish hue of her skin, her soft supple cheek, her little angel hairband, and twinkling, gleaming smile. Taehyung memorised her scent like a wolf would to a pup, with his eyes shut, his nose nudging on her softness. His arms held her gently but firmly. It felt like there was only him and the baby, he shut every other sound. When he held that baby, there’s stillness in the air, the noises ceased to exist, the visions clouded and the heaven’s hinted; it was his calling. It felt very much like sinking and flying at the same time. It was as if the world stood still, the time stopped and the anticipation grew. A lifetime in a second. Gold rush, a dam broke and first rain in the desert. Taehyung eyes fluttered open to the view of the baby’s rosy cheeks and immediately searched for you. Any semblance of you. 
But you were kneeling by Jimin’s wife laying body on the floor. 
Taehyung padding over the wooden balcony into the living room. In daze, Taehyung passed the baby over to her mother and closed into you. Your mouth was moving but for some reason, his brain couldn’t string the words. You were screaming but he heard nothing until seconds after.
“Call 911!” You ordered. There was a puddle of water where she once stood. 
Meanwhile, you’re massaging her tummy. Jimin’s at the other end, and people pooling in to watch. The men are asked to wait outside with the kids for the ambulance. Taehyung had his hand on the house phone, and as he tried to arrange his words, his attention flew to you and your alarmed eyes. Your lips read, 
“Speak slowly… clearly.”
The dial tone ended and, “We need. Ambulance. Birth. A woman is giving birth, please send in an ambulance.” He turns to you again and right now, you have all the ladies lined up. 
“Okay, listen. Towels, all of it, blankets, pillows, sterile gloves, plastic bags, and Jimin,” you listed. Everyone spreads around to get everything. Towels from upstairs, blankets from the laundry room, pillows from the guest room and plastic bags from the kitchen drawers. Even Jimin who was outside waiting for the ambulance is being carried in by Jungkook. Taehyung handed a plastic cup of water. Jimin has his wife’s head cradled in his lap, padded with pillows and she’s holding her hand.
“I told you this was a good idea…” she joked, “I only trust her around…”
“I have only delivered a baby once in my life and that was in nursing school, that does not mean this was a correct choice, Junhee…” you half scolded her.
“I wouldn’t have it in any other way,” she said with a big smile before she hisses in pain and clenching around Jimin’s fingers. Then she groaned till veins were popping on her forehead. Jimin kept on peppering kisses and wiping her sweat with warm water. She continues to wretch and shiver. She felt cramps in her abdomens, churning. So she retched. What a relief she had her husband on the side. Jimin’s whispering words of affirmations and it really helped her calm down. Although she is really not far from giving birth. She is 9 centimetres dilated. 
“Where is the ambulance?” You asked in a rushed tone. 
“Any minute now!” Someone at the door informed. 
That’s not good enough. She will be 10 centimetres in no time and if the ambulance isn’t here by then, the baby will drown. She is perfectly ready for vaginal delivery, you grab a towel, place it underneath her openings and tell her to push until she feels the contraction. Work with the contraction and push as hard as she could. You also massaged to make sure the baby’s head was out first. From the physical examinations, the baby’s head is visible. All that’s left to do is for Junhee to push. You thought her the breathing method, and counted with her. Even Jimin’s following suit. 
“Deep breaths, sweetheart. You can do this…” you reminded her, “And then we’re gonna go again, okay?”
“I think I’m going to vomit…” Jimin fetches the bag from the side and vomits. Taehyung gulped, watching the fiasco from the side. He watches his wife carefully guiding, and assuring and giving space towards the mother to feel as comfortable as she can. 
Junhee was obedient and she was cooperating. She was entirely under your care. You can see from her eyes that she trusted you with her life. She had been, ever since you knew her. And now, she entrusted you with her life and her baby’s life. Junhee delivers a big push and this time the baby slides out into your arm along with it’s placenta. The detachment is healthy, and you quickly glance to the time, on the grandpa’s clock on the corner, 
“Someone note the time!”
“3:47PM!”
You placed the baby on his mother’s arm, a healthy baby boy. Another warm towel on his tiny body and his mom’s tired laugh. He is red and warm and crying, lungs are not congested. But still you need to wait for the ambulance. You placed the placenta into the bag Taehyung opened and told Jimin to hold them up. You refused to cut the umbilical cord without proper tools. It’s not sterile here to do so and there’s no medical back-up should anything go wrong. You told everyone to stay put until the ambulance arrived. Taehyung caught your eyes from across the room and slowly, you drew a smile on your face, contradicting his worried one. And again, in this lifetime, even when he was most concerned about you, you told him with your eyes that you’re okay. Even at this distance. 
“Who delivered the baby?” the ambulance personnel yelled, his voice seeped in, through the windows to you, while you were cleaning up the living room. 
Taehyung rushed to the door with a panicked look on his face and you sprinted out.
They gave you the scissors.
“The ma’am wanted you to cut the umbilical cord instead of the father, will you do the honors?” The man in medical assistant uniform smiled at you. You took the scissors in your hand and you glanced up at her, tears welling up in your eyes and you cried, “Yes, of course, yes…”
“She’s a retired nurse, I never once worried about my life when she’s around,” Park Junhee boasted as she was carried into the ambulance. Jimin climbed in, too. You followed the ambulance close while Taehyung drove Jimin’s car. It’s to help them later, if Jimin needs to return home. Taehyung left the car parked in the hospital parking area and climbed into your shared caravan. He offered to drive. And as he was driving, and talking about how cool you were as the night fell, he heard nothing from your side. You had already fallen asleep. Defeated by the tiredness. He stops at the same spot this morning and lowered your chair. He fetches a blanket from the bed and tucked you in warm. You moaned and switched to your side. He leans over you and plants a firm kiss on your head. As you swam deeper in your slumber, the stars twinkling in the sapphire blue sky, the moon stood witness to the feeling Taehyung had over you. He lowered his own chair to watch you sleep with a smile and fondness in his eyes. 
His soft curls fall over the hood of his eyes, touching the bridge of his nose as he clamors in renewed emotions he felt for you. Such pure love, the kind that authors would write about in novels, many years ago. He is so in love, his feet are levitating from the ground it seemed. One of those wishes thrown at the shooting skies had come true. Broken pieces of him, finally held together, and the last piece was in a form of a person. He extended his arm to reach yours, and you took them in like a soft toy. He gladly cuffed himself to you, it's been his fate. Lips, body and soul, is yours. The bell resonated from the far back of his mind, of when soulmates found each other. His heart thumping so loudly he feared you might have heard them. You have stirred something inside him he doesn’t quite understand yet. Rain or snow, storms or deserts, it's your hand he wanted to hold. He wants to create a home so comfy for you and maybe, in between you two, a baby that’s both his and yours. Someone to carry his name. Symphonies of violin when he watches you sleep. Like an orchestra coming together. 
Walking down the street in the morning, you wore beige knitted cardigan, hands intertwined. He swings your hand with a big toothy grin on his face. His soft curls flying in the wind, his deep chuckle sparking your insides with excitement. You wanted to choose a gift for Jimin and Junhee’s baby boy who is now at the hospital. With this man’s hand who made your heart ascend in the small of your back, it felt like you could do anything. An older woman who was also a customer in the small shop gave you both a big smile. 
“Newly weds?” She asked.
“Why? Do we seem like so?” You asked her warmly.
“We've been married for almost 2 years now…” Taehyung corrected her.
The older woman chuckled, and then her smile faltered, crestfallen on a vision it seemed, “Such soulmates are rare… You looked so good together, such a beautiful couple…” Taehyung wanted to buy a small necklace for the older women. He grabbed one that caught his eyes and dashed out the shop’s door, but the old woman had disappeared. 
“She walked really fast for someone her age…” Taehyung spoke to himself, squinting hard at the distance in both directions. To see if there’s any semblance of the friendly old woman anywhere. It’s like she vanished. When he returned to the shop, you asked him to buy you a glass ball with a bear reading and confettis inside. It was nothing special for Taehyung but you wanted it so he bought them without much thought. In the caravan, it was placed on the dashboard with a double tape, securely glued. 
“Wouldn’t it be nice if we have our own little one?” Taehyung stared at his friend Jimin, cooing his little baby.
“Could we?” Your smile faded as you bore into the view of the glass. You turned to him with a broken smile, “At my age?”
“You’re not as old as you think you are…” Taehyung said. And did he prove them well. Nine months later, you were holding his arm as you walked out of the apartment door with Jimin’s wife on the phone, telling you that she had arrived. Unlike her, you wanted to be at the hospital when the water broke. The same beige cardigan you wore on her child’s birthday,you wore today. It’s already old and strings were coming out at the ends but you insisted. Taehyung carried you bridal style into the car, towels ready. His arms were yours to clench on and while you were groaning, he was biting his lips at the same force. You clawed into his flesh as he calmed you down. Jimin was driving and his wife was teaching you the same breathing method you taught her. You plastered your face into Taehyung’s neck. Hair stuck into your forehead as you sweat profusely, fighting through the incessant pain. 
“Please hurry Jimin, please hurry…” Taehyung begged.
“I have the hazard lights on, we will make it on time, don’t worry bud…” Jimin said in a rushed tone. 
In the delivery room, Taehyung was dressed in all blue, masks and gloves, just like the doctors and nurses. There’s only his eyes, but you recognise them so well. One look, in that delivery room, meant only for you. Light hearted jokes and hand held tight. He pressed his lips on your whitened knuckles the whole time. His tears fell like diamonds as he watches you push with all your strength, a baby that is his. No words exchanged, but you saw enough. He was in love, so direly in love. Memories flash in the back of your mind, under clenched eyes, kisses on the sidewalks, love declarations under the heavy rain. The way he lifts you to the sky in that storm, slowly sliding you down his body, enough for you to place your forehead on his. His wide gaping smile, drenched in the night under the lamp post, warm wafts of breaths escaped his lips. You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him hard. You couldn’t hear what the midwives are saying, but you know one thing, this is the ultimate gift you could give the man that has given you everything. 
One last push, and a shrilling tiny cry accompanied. Taehyung looked at you and linked his forehead on yours. You’ve gone pale. So pale. Your lips were blue and your eyes were drooping. You are coming in and out of consciousness. The doctors had to lead Taehyung out of the delivery room, they had to perform operations. You were too tired to continue pushing. But before he leaves, you brushed your lips on his left cheek, and you tell him in your last bits of strength, 
“I-I love you. So-so much...Thank you…” 
Taehyung’s hand was separated from yours. He was grabbing air just as yours were holding out. 
.
.
.
.
Today. 
“Taehyung, tea?” His mother greeted him. He and his easel in use. He shook his head. And from inside the caravan. Small pair of hands curled on the handles, to push the door open. Carrying a beige cardigan. Four feets putting on shoes and padded to their father. With brown irises twinkling at Taehyung’s back, no older than four years old, Taehyung glanced over his shoulder and spread his arms. One in each arm. 
You watched them from the caravan, and it felt like you were right there. You could almost touch him, his hair, the slope of his nose. The babies. The babies are all grown. You could almost smell the sea. The breeze you knew so well. But you can’t. 
Six years ago.
Taehyung returned home with the babies. Dressed in all black, he has to head back out again, to send his wife. When he returned, he saw the babies sleeping on their side, covered by the beige cardigan. He rushes outside to where the caravan’s were. His mother caught him just in time as he fell to the ground, shivering and calling out your name repeatedly. His mother cradles him in her lap.
“Release, my child. Release your agony…” Taehyung’s mother cradled her baby boy in her arms and Taehyung let out a cry, heart-thumping, guttural screaming cry as he let out the grief he had kept in the silent since he saw your casket lowered, six-feet underground, a baby in his arms, sleeping, coddled in her late mother’s knitted cardigan she wore when she was at the hospital, trying to have her. Taehyung looked up at the sky that strangely bright day, and a single drop of rain fell to the left side of his cheek where his wife had kissed before she went away. 
God is neither late nor early. 
God took one of His angels back home to Him. Left two behind in Taehyung’s care.
.
.
.
.
Copyright © January 9th, 2021 namjoonchronicles do not repost, leave feedback :’) please
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spices-and-cherries · 3 years
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Being domestic with Benoit Blanc would include...
There’s not nearly enough content for this wonderful man and so here I am, making it myself. I hope you all enjoy!
Warnings: Fluff
- You! Have! Matching! Mugs! You had seen a nice mug set for couples and had asked Benoit if he’d be okay with it. He said yes! A few months later, he had come home from a trip and surprised you with a new set. He bought them as a souvenir and thought you’d like them. Now, you have four sets. If it weren’t for the fact that you don’t really need an exorbitant amount of mugs, you’d probably have more.
- He’s messy. Not in a bad or gross way, he just tends to be disorganized. He’s one of those people who know exactly where everything is even though the place looks like a train wreck. It’s for that exact reason that you don’t go into his office very often (unless it’s to bring him a snack).
- His closet, on the other hand, is very neat. It’s most because he doesn’t have much there to begin with. He just sticks with what he likes and only gets new clothes when he really needs to. That being said, he has one drawer from your dresser just for his ties. He usually picks them out based on his mood and he takes his time to choose the right one. Pro Tip: Get him one for the holidays or for his birthday. He’ll wear it for a week straight.
- He doesn’t tend to take cases that are out of the region. He likes being in the comfort of his home and you - it helps him think better than some hotel room. He always asks if he can talk his thoughts out loud and you almost always say yes. It didn’t take long for him to start bouncing ideas off of you.
- He loves helping you out with your job just as much as you helping him. He’ll listen to you with all of his attention when you feel you need to go through your presentation just one more time. He likes to learn and likes to hear your voice. It makes him feel better about him always talking about cases - he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s taking and not giving. Of course, you’ve never thought that because you love to hear him talk and to see him get excited.
- You’ve split the chores and do as much of it as possible on Saturday. The both of you try to make it as fun as possible with music playing or having jeopardy in the background (the winner gets a forehead kiss). There is no laundry machine in your apartment, so you have to go downstairs. Folding and hanging it when it’s done, while a bit tedious, is the best part. You get to rest a little and talk about the week or anything new that’s caught your interest.
- At some point, you get a cat. He has short hair and is a sand color. His name is Sleuth. You and Benoit took almost a week to find the perfect name. You take turns feeding him and taking care of the litterbox. Sleuth is pretty affectionate and will most definitely sit on you as you cuddle on the couch. You may or may not have a folder of Sleuth and Benoit napping together saved on your phone. When you need to take five at work, it’s usually the first thing you go to. They make you feel fuzzy inside.
- You really want to have at least one plant, but Benoit doesn’t have the attention span and you’ve always had bad luck with them. You settle on a nice arrangement of cacti instead. They sit along the windowsill in the living room.
- He always let you use the bathroom first. You never really understood it so one day you dragged him in with you so you could brush your teeth together. Now, it’s a daily routine. Maybe you’ll shave at the same time or do your make-up next to him. This is also how you got him into skincare. He has very delicate skin, but he always stuck with moisturizer. You offer some of your foam cleanser and he accepts out of curiosity. He ends up liking it, so you buy another bottle. He was very touched.
- After getting sleuth, he brushes the hair off his favorite coat every morning. You end up getting him a lint roller because it was getting a little ridiculous.
- You now have an affinity for cigars. He usually smokes them outside out of concern for your shared space - not to mention Sleuth. You find that the smell of cigar smoke and his aftershave becomes very comforting. Maybe at some point you’ll give it a try. Maybe you’ll even enjoy it or decide to save it for special occasions. If you are ever curious about cigars, he would be more than happy to tell you anything you want to know.
- Benoit is sober. He finds that alcohol can mess with his brain and he doesn’t like the feeling of not being in complete control of himself or having no awareness of what’s around him. He totally respects it if you do enjoy a glass of wine with dinner or relaxing with a can of beer. For fancy occasions, like an anniversary or a holiday dinner, he may have a glass of wine and actually enjoy it. While he doesn’t have a lot of experience with wine, he does like white over red because it’s not as bitter. Either way, he’s the most content with his cigars.
- Sometimes, when the both of you can afford to stay up late, you put on a movie. While he enjoys mysteries, he has a strong affinity for older comedies and musicals. They remind him of his childhood. Some of his favorites are My Fair Lady (1964), Harvey (1950), and anything Charlie Chaplin. He also enjoys more modern comedies, not just because of the humor, but because you were the one to recommend them. He makes sure that there’s always enough popcorn and blankets and enough space for Sleuth to join you. These little dates are some of your favorites.
- You’re not the biggest fan of shoes in the apartment - you like to keep them by the door. Benoit makes an effort to remember to take his off when he comes home.
- He likes hearing you sing, whether it’s while you work or washing the dishes. He’ll try to keep as quite as possible so you won’t stop. On the rare occasion that you spot him and continue singing (you usually clam up immediately), he’ll sing or hum along.
- He’s really good at listening. If you are crying, he’ll just hold you close to him, rubbing your back or kissing the top of your head. He’ll wait until you want to talk and always knows what to say or when to not say anything at all. It’s not often that he himself will cry. If something happened at work, he won’t talk much. It doesn’t happen a lot, but you can see the tells and will let him have his space. You might have to baby him a little to get him to eat because he will forget. When the two of you go to bed, he becomes the little spoon and will melt into your arms. You’ll rub his back and run your hand comfortingly through his hair.
- He’s not super into PDA, but loves cuddles. He likes to be the little spoon when you’re on the couch taking a nap. He loves having your hands running through his hair. If you two are sitting, you’ll be resting your head on his shoulder and your arms around his. In bed, unless he’s sad, he is the big spoon. He like feeling like he’s protecting you. He will make you wear socks if your toes are cold, but finds it amusing if they end up anywhere but your feet by morning.
- He radiates heat. You end up eating less pasta during summer because for some reason it makes him almost unbearably warm. It makes him sad that you are less willing to cuddle with him as a result. But in winter, it’s a whole other story. It’s the best time to cuddle because he’s almost like a weighted blanket. Hot cocoa, blankets, a movie and Benoit Blanc equal a wonderful winter weekend. It’s also the only time of the year that you demand he holds your hand when you find yourselves outside. At first, bless his heart, he thought it was because you kept forgetting your gloves (which was partly true) and kept reminding you to not forget them - he grabbed them himself at one point. If you just tell him you want to hold his hand, he’ll understand a lot quicker.
- He’s not very good in the kitchen. You try and teach him, but at this point, it’s a lost cause. He makes up for it by cleaning up the mess after. However, if you decide to do something super easy, you like to make him wear your ‘kiss the chef’ apron because it absolutely looks better on him than you.
Please feel free to send me requests or ideas! I really liked making this one, so I might do a Part 2... 
- Simpy
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Text
let’s save the world
season two, episode three
five hargreeves x reader
summary: you find vanya and, once again, luther. you also start to question your feelings as others mention your relationship
trigger warnings: obliviousness, cursing, some violence (not really that bad, honestly lol)
word count: 3k
a/n: i know it’s taking forever, but we’re finally boarding the feelings train 😂
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you sigh as you blink back into the apartment, seeing diego passed out on the couch with lila over him, fixing up a wound on his abdomen that you assumed he had gotten when he wasn’t in the building to help the both of you when five got pounced on by a baby monkey.
five looks at the man lying on the couch. “oh. he isn’t dead.” he notices, and you sigh softly as you grab a cloth.
lila looks up at the two of you as you hold the fabric over the scratches on the side of his neck, and you grimace as blood soaks through. “disappointed?” she questions, and you glance over to her.
“to see you? always.” he gives a sarcastic grin, and you see her shoulders slump slightly, seeming surprised.
“so much hostility in such a tiny package.” she comments and you grin slightly.
with a chuckle, you set the cloth down. “you’d be surprised. that’s not even the worst of it.” out of the corner of your eye you see him roll his eyes while you search some cabinets for a first aid kit.
“did you cut yourself shaving?” the woman questions, referring to the scratches. “you know, i could teach you to shave like a big boy.”
you can’t help your laugh, but you quickly cover your mouth to silence it when you find the kit, grabbing the antiseptic inside and dousing a clean part of the cloth. “just ran into a family friend.” five informs, glancing towards you, “is that really necessary?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at the wet cloth.
“if you don’t want it to get infected, yes.” you purse your lips as you press it to the still slightly bloody scratches.
you hear a sigh, “you two are so cute.” turning your head, you look at lila with your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. she looks between both of you, “you are together, right?”
you’re both silent for a moment, and you’re frozen for a moment as you process the implication. “no.” you both state at the same time, and you finally tear your gaze away from her as you pull the rag away and throw it to the side onto one of the cluttered tables.
“really?” you’re stunned by how shocked she sounds. you give a slow nod, and she hums. “you guys totally act like a couple. like, it’s obvious how much you care about him.”
you don’t know what to say, so you stay quiet as you bite your cheek. you feel that your heartbeat had increased, and you felt like your skin was tingling with the heat you usually associated with your powers- but somehow it wasn’t the same.
you shake your head and turn when you hear someone snoring, seeing that elliott was still tied to the chair, and apparently he had calmed down quite a bit, considering he had fallen fast asleep.
five looks to lila with an eyebrow raised, “you didn’t untie him?”
her gaze flickers from diego’s wound to the man, before she looks at five. “was i supposed to?”
-
you lay on the floor, your hands resting over your stomach as your fingers slowly tap against your forearm. your gaze focused straight up onto the ceiling that had crumbled slightly from the shot it had taken. lost in thought, everything around you fell away as you repeated what lila had said in your head, over and over and over.
you guys totally act like a couple. like, it’s obvious how much you care about him.
your face scrunches up as you think over it, trying to understand what it meant. of course you care about him. he was your closest- and basically only- friend. how did caring about someone mean you had feelings for them?
you’re unable to come up with an answer to your own question, as one of the many screens that elliott sat in front of started to buzz, a red light flashing in time with the sound and shining onto his face.
“hey, we got one.” you quickly push yourself up from your spot on the floor as elliott speaks, rolling across the floor in his chair to another screen. “one of those machines you asked for is going crazy.”
you move behind him to look at the screen, and five comes rushing into the room to look as well. “which one?”
“the, uh, the atmospheric radar.” the man informs, and you watch as the dot to pin point the location of where it had found something pops up, five mumbling something under his breath. “i don’t get it,” elliott glances back at him for a second, “what are you tracking, a hurricane, storm front?”
“sound waves.” five tells him, and suddenly you understand what all of these machines are for. you hadn’t questioned it when five asked for all of them, as he was most definitely the smart one here and you knew you probably wouldn’t get what it was all for, but now, you got the need for them all.
vanya manipulates sound waves, and this was how you could find her. you smirk as elliott repeats what he said under his breath in amazement, grabbing for five’s hand blindly before the both of you blink away.
-
you had found the woman in the middle of a cornfield, which you didn’t appreciate, because in your search for her you had to push through plants taller than you as they smacked you in the face with their leaves.
it was great when you got out, the feeling that bigs had been crawling over your skin was gone. five decided it would be best to go somewhere and explain everything to vanya, as it seemed she didn’t remember much- or, anything, from before landing here. apparently she had lost her memory.
when he suggested you go to a diner or somewhere similar, you immediately lit up, suggesting the place you worked at up until a day or two ago. you had left some stuff in that old apartment that you needed to get anyways, so he easily agreed.
you practically beamed as you walked in, hearing a loud squeal as the door shut behind you. you’re crushed in a hug almost immediately, and you chuckle as stacy begins to ramble on about how much she missed you.
“it’s only been, like, two days.” you tell her with a grin as she finally pulls away, gripping onto your arms as she smiles brightly at you.
“so what?” she bounces on her toes, “i still missed you.” she glances behind her at five and vanya, who had already taken some stools at the counter, margaret pouring them some coffee. “you have to tell me all about the boy. he must be special if you’re willing to go off with him with no warning.”
you’re reminded of what lila had said at elliott’s and you have to stop yourself from drifting off into your thoughts again.
rolling your eyes, you pull her hands off of you, “he’s my friend, and he needed me. nothing special about it. i need to clean out my stuff from upstairs, so don’t say anything stupid, okay?”
she sighs dramatically, “alright, fine. i still don’t believe what you say about him, though.”
“whatever.” you grin as she reluctantly goes back to doing her job, and you wave to your former manager, who smiles at you before you head into the kitchen, towards the door in the back that lead to the staircase up to your apartment- what had been your apartment.
when you open the door, you look around with a soft sigh. you remembered the day margaret had taken you in clearly, as if it was a movie playing on a screen in front of you.
-
you pull off the uniform jacket that you had been wearing for the past week, tossing it into the dumpster that you had been sitting next to for the past three days, curled up next to the wall as you stared up into the sky that you had fallen from, knowing that if anybody was going to be here, they would arrive the same way.
you gave up on that third day, your throat dry having gone days without water, and your stomach growled, feeling as though it had been curling in on itself without anything to fill it. you couldn’t go any longer like this, but you couldn’t prance around in a school uniform that belonged to an academy that didn’t even exist yet, at least not that you knew of.
you also figured that since you had your pistol tucked into your waistband, it would be a good idea to pull your button-up out to cover the weapon, as it wouldn’t be a normal occurrence for a teenage girl walking around with a gun.
walking out onto the street once again, you look around at the buildings that lined the sidewalk, wondering what your best bet would be. you squint as you focus on a cafe, another grumble of your stomach reminding you of your hunger. maybe you could snag a free meal if someone took pity on you, or you could offer up some work in return for one. if it came down to it, you could snatch someone’s wallet without them noticing and find somewhere else.
taking a deep breath, you quickly cross the road before walking into the cafe, glancing around for a moment at the people that sat in the booths or at the circular tables filling the empty space, you bite your lip.
at the counter, you see a nice old lady fixing up a pot of coffee. only a few people filled the stools, and you sigh softly before walking up to the clean counter. “excuse me, miss?”
the woman turns around with the pot of the warm drink in hand, and you of course think of five. how could you not? he ran on coffee. “yes, dear?” she quickly moves to stand on the other side of the counter, placing the pot next to her as she already grabs the notepad from the pocket in her apron. “can i get you anything.”
clearing your throat quietly, you cross your arms over the countertop, leaning over them. “do you know if there’s anywhere nearby that i can stay at for cheap? i- i, uh, don’t really know the area.”
“well, aren’t your parents in town with you?” she questions, pocketing the pad as she tilts her head to the side.
you gulp as you quickly think up a story, looking to the wall behind her for a moment before meeting her gaze again. “i don’t know where they are.” you tell her, trying to sell the story by looking as upset as possible. you really were lost, so you didn’t need to fake that part of the act.
putting her hand over her heart, the lady frowns. “oh, baby. you don’t have any money, do you?” you shake your head, tapping your fingers against your forearm anxiously, “well, lucky for you, we’re shorthanded here, and there’s a place upstairs in need of someone. if you’d like, you can stay here until you find your parents.”
you smile at the offer, glad that you had managed to find such a kind woman. “that would be wonderful, if it’s no bother.”
“oh, of course not.” her lips pull up into a smile, “you must be hungry, would you like something to eat?”
you nearly drool at the thought of finally getting some food in your stomach, and you nod eagerly. “could i get some of that coffee, as well?” you tilt your head towards the pot, and she chuckles softly.
“whatever you need.” she grabs a mug, placing it in front of you and filling it up. “how about some biscuits and gravy? that’ll fill you up.”
“i’ll take whatever you give me.” you take a sip of the drink, feeling it burn your tongue slightly from the temperature, but you couldn’t care less. it would give you the energy you so desperately needed.
only a little while later, a plate of the promised biscuits was placed in front of you, a side plate of some bacon and eggs to go with it. you thank her before practically inhaling all of it, grateful to finally have something in your stomach.
when you were done, the woman introduced herself to be margaret, the manager of the place, and she even introduced the girl who worked day shifts at the place, stacy, before showing you up the stairs to the apartment.
“it’s not much.” the older woman unlocked the door, swinging it open to show the small, dusty apartment. “and it’s in need of some tlc, but i’m sure you’ll easily make it feel like home until it’s no longer needed.”
you step into the room, a small smile on your face. “it’s all i need. thank you for letting me stay here.”
“it’s the least i can do, dear. i’ll let you get settled in, and stacy can show you the ropes of the job once you’re done.”
-
you leave the door open behind you, going to the dresser by the small twin bed against the wall, opening the top drawer.
you pushed the clothes you had tossed in there (most of them stolen), smiling when you see the metallic glint underneath them. pulling out the pistol, you turn it in your hands, nodding slowly to yourself. “i knew i’d need you again.” you mumble softly, setting it on the bed before crouching down by the bed.
blindly searching beneath the wooden frame, you manage to find the one bag you had and pulled it out, hitting it a few times to shake the dirt and dust off. you open it up, slipping the gun into one of the pockets on the side before throwing a few other things inside that you felt you needed.
zipping the bag back up, you sling it over your shoulder and head back to the door, standing in the doorway for a moment to look back at it, before swinging the door shut and going back downstairs.
you walk out of the kitchen just as vanya gets up from her seat and rushes to the phone that hung on the wall. furrowing your eyebrows, you push past the gate at the counter and take the stool next to five. “did you tell her?”
he nods, taking a sip of his coffee. “i did. just- don’t tell her she caused the apocalypse. that won’t go well.”
biting your lip, you nod your head before grabbing the pot of coffee in front of the both of you, filling the empty mug that margaret had left for you. “my lips are sealed.”
it’s quiet for a moment before five looks to you. “do you know why that girl has been staring at me since we came in?” he questions, motioning towards where stacy took the order of a few people sat at a round table, and you can see her quick glances towards where you sat.
shaking your head, you take a sip of the coffee. “just ignore her. she’s... curious.” you chuckle softly as you look at the steam that floated out of your cup.
“curious?” he raises an eyebrow, “curious about what?”
you sigh softly, not wanting to outright say what she had been implying, because it caused too much to swirl around in your mind from what both she and lila had said. it was confusing. “you.”
he tilts his head in confusion, pursing his lips, before shrugging. “alright.” he looks back at where vanya stood at the phone as he finished the rest of his coffee. “this is taking too long.” he sighs heavily, standing from the seat at the counter and you quickly down the rest of what’s in your mug.
he ends the call without a word, and vanya’s eyes widen as whoever she was talking to had been cut off. “what the hell?”
“we don’t have time for this.” he tells her simply.
she still held the phone in her hand as she looked at him in distress, “that was my friend you just hung up on!”
“listen,” you sigh softly, grabbing her arm, “those people in the field are coming for us, and they’re going to keep coming until we’re dead. we can’t waste time.” you can see how upset she is, but you don’t feel bad. you’re just being honest.
five nods, “we need to stick together, figure out how to stop this doomsday. whoever this person is, they can’t be more important than the end of the world.” you let go of her arm as she breathes shakily, “we need to go.”
it’s quiet for a moment before she finally puts the phone back, taking a deep breath as you all leave the cafe.
-
you walked into an arena that you had found to be where luther had been fighting in for a while now, men surrounding the ring as they roared for their bets to win. some had beers in their hand and others waved their money in the air, and you purse your lips as you follow the other two, pushing past people to get into a good spot to see what happens.
as punches are thrown, cheers accompany them, and you have to cover your ears from the volume of it all. it was certainly overwhelming.
luther was in the ring with another man who, surprisingly, matched his size pretty well. you had always thought that with the whole monkey serum, he would be larger than anyone, no matter how tall or how much they lifted, but you now realized it was perhaps your change in size that made him seem so large.
as you lean against the rails that surround the ring, luther suddenly stops fighting, completely freezing in the center of the circle. the other fighter throws a punch, hitting him right in the jaw, and everyone seems confused as he doesn’t throw one back. “what the hell is he doing?” you lean towards five, having to shout over the others yelling for him to hear you as you watch the fighter throw more punches.
you see five’s shoulders shrug as he looks in confusion at the two, and suddenly, he’s being beaten up with absolutely no retaliation. he’s thrown into one of the walls surrounding them, but he still doesn’t do anything as he’s dragged back up and punched repeatedly. you barely hear five question what he’s doing over the yelling around you.
the fight ends when one of the hits knock him back and he lands on the ground covered in hay, the crowd booing as they had lost their money from him totally throwing the fight.
the three of you all mutter in confusion, looking at the man lying on the ground, blood pouring from his nose and covering his forehead.
taglists
main: @horrorklaus  
tua: @rasberrymay @noodlextrash
five taglist: @anapocalypseinmymind @five-hargreeves-official @insatiable-ivy @coffee-e-addict @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff @colie-babi @flowertoty
let’s save the world: @aspiringwriter1 @thetrashypanda423 @lilacs-lavender @wow-lookit-all-the-fandoms @ohmyitsfaith @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff @onedollarduck @sleepygal124 @faith-quake @stripedchickens @youcandalekmyballs @pettyjayy @libidinexx @bts-chub @theoriginalkat @flowertoty @whenyouwantdeath
178 notes · View notes
rhenuvee · 4 years
Text
Mission Impossible (George Weasley x Beauxbatons reader)
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A/N + Summary: YEAH you’ve seen Fred Weasley x Beauxbatons reader but now I give you GEORGE WEASLEY X BEAUXBATONS READER (wow so cool). 
Key: (y/n) - your name, also I just gave your friends names because it would be a hassle to do (y/f/n/1) and so on.
*I realized I’m an idiot for not doing this sooner so tell me if you’d like to be tagged in my future fics. I write for 3 fandoms so please specify which one!*
-----------------------------------
The moment you, your friends and headmistress waltzed into the great hall with your elegant movements, it didn’t take long for people to turn heads in admiration- especially for George Weasley. 
Was it merely a coincidence that when you looked his way, he was looking right back at you? For a second you almost forgot that you were part of everyone’s center of attention, and that you weren’t the only one in the room. 
He threw a wink your way when your group stopped to flourish butterflies to the crowd. You giggled- God, that certainly wasn’t in your choreography, you didn’t even know if it was directed to you! You hoped that nobody saw that. 
Once everyone was settled down, one of your friends Camille tapped you on the shoulder almost urgently. 
“Who were you looking at?” she whispered, but still loud enough for your two other friends Renee and Jacqueline to hear. “You were looking at someone, (y/n)?” asked Jacqueline. Well, she said that out loud. Most of the Beauxbatons were staring at you waiting for an answer. 
“Camille, I wasn’t looking at anyone.” you lied. Camille obviously didn’t believe you, and lifted herself slightly off the bench table to look around. There were too many people that could’ve been the one. Camille furrowed her eyebrows. “Whoever it was, they were on that side of the hall.” she said with her arms crossed. 
“Maybe it was a boy...” said Jacqueline with a smirk. Jeez, if anything, she was always the person to suspect the reason to everything was someone you liked. Suddenly your mind reverted back to your few seconds of memory of the red headed boy. He was handsome, no doubt, and that wink could’ve made you blush more than the Beauxbatons entrance.
“She’s blushing! It is a boy!” exclaimed Jacqueline. You immediately cringed and wished that you didn’t know them anymore. “Don’t worry (y/n), we’ll find this boy sooner than you!” said Camille cheerfully while high-fiving Jacqueline. You facepalmed, as if your first- not even hour at Hogwarts had an interesting start. 
“All of you are clowns-” you muttered. “well not Renee I guess.” 
“No, I’m totally in on this too.” she said quickly.
“Oh... never mind then. Guess I’ll just be miserable then, with three clowns...” you said a fake sadness which made you and your three friends laugh. 
Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor table, a similar conversation was happening. 
“Georgie, helloooo?” said Fred waving a hand in front of his face. He was too distracted by the pretty smile that left your lips as you laughed. Fred groaned dramatically.
“Hi! I’m a pretty Beauxbatons girl who the less attractive Weasley twin seems to be distracted by!” said Fred in a mock girly tone. 
“Huh?” said George out of his daydream. 
“Well that got his attention.” said Harry as he and Ron snickered. 
 “What are you on about, Fred?” asked George. “I’m saying you’ve been staring at where those Beauxbatons girls are sitting, Georgie. One of them caught your eye?” he asked slyly, but with a knowing smile. 
“No-” 
“Well then why you looking there? You like the colour blue?” asked Fred laughing into his question. The people listening into the conversation around them went into a fit of laughter. But jokes aside, if anyone knew George it obviously had to be his twin. He saw how his cheeks were tinted a slight pink, and the daydream? It was a dead giveaway to him. The question only remained as to which girl it was- there were lots of you. Fred was more than welcome to play detective.
-----------------------------------
The next night, you went to accompany Fleur to put her name in the goblet. You decided to stay for a while to watch and clap for the other people who were planning to enter. It was very brave of them to take on the tournament after all.
“YESSSSSSSSS!!” you heard two voices call out while running to high five other students. It was him. You immediately perked up and felt your body tense up. You giggled to yourself as they explained to a girl why their plan would work. A bit silly, he was, but it attracted you nonetheless. 
Then it happened again, the boy turned his head for a brief moment from the crowd and landed on you. This time you had a closer view of him. You could see his ginger hair with the fire of the goblet reflecting it, his cute freckles, and his eyes which you could tell held a lot of mischief in them.
His mouth was slightly parted at the sight of you, but quickly split into a grin, knowing you were watching him. You couldn’t help but to smile back- in fact a little too widely to your liking, so you put a hand to cover your mouth.
“(Y/N)!” yelled a voice too familiar. Camille, Jacqueline and Renee sauntered in, earning a sigh of frustration to you. Here we go again...
“Hm- why are you so smiley?” asked Camille. Then the three of them gasped in sync. “T-the boy! Is he here?!” they all said looking around frantically. “No I did not see ‘t-the boy’.” you said mocking them dramatically. 
Your argument was interrupted by the shouts of the two redheads earlier, who honestly don’t have red hair anymore, and sat up to reveal that they were growing beards. The circle of people around them started laughing as they fought. You and your friends giggled at the sight, but you couldn’t help to feel a little concerned for the boy. 
-----------------------------------
You were thankful that your friends didn’t pester you right then and there, but that didn’t mean they weren’t on your case anymore. 
It was getting late, and you should’ve been with the rest of the Beauxbatons students, but you snuck around asking people where the hospital wing was. You don’t know why you decided to listen to your heart that was telling you to go see the boy after the aging potion fiasco. 
You took a peek inside and saw them already finished getting their beards shaved, and hair back to normal. You decided to wait outside for him until he came out. People started to give you weird looks since your blue uniform stuck out like a sore thumb.
Your heart started racing as you saw him come into your view. You tapped his arm lightly to get his attention. He turned around, and you could swear he had a light blush on his cheeks.
“Hi...” you said shyly.
“Hi.” he said back, chuckling at your short choice of greeting.
“I remember you,” he said, amused at the way you timidly tried to hide your smile. “I see you were worried about me.”
“I see you shaved your beard.” you shot back. He laughed at your reply while sheepishly rubbing his neck.
“Oi! George, we got- oh hello there.” said Fred with a smirk on his face. You smiled shyly. “So you’re the girl Georgie’s been staring at.” Fred’s shin was quickly met with George’s foot kicking it.
“Don’t snog for too long.” said Fred while waving and turning on his heel to leave. George was about to say something when your voice made him decide to deal with it later.
“I’m (y/n) (l/n), nice to meet you.” you said sticking out your hand. “Nice to meet you too, sweetheart.” he said taking your hand and bringing it to his lips to press a light kiss to it. You blushed- you were expecting a handshake. He seemed to be quite a charmer.
“Hey! Don’t try to make me throw up in the middle of the hall!” called out Fred. You hid in embarrassment.
“Fred, mate, I thought you were heading to the great hall.” said George. “You should be heading there too you know?” Fred shot back. George turned back to look at you and smiled.
“We’ll see you later then, darling.” he said running off. “See you...” you replied softly.
-----------------------------------
You felt this emptiness when George left even for a brief moment. But at the same time it was better since your friends wouldn’t expect anything compared to if you walked in together.
You sat down at the table with the rest of the Beauxbatons students, waiting for everyone else to be settled down. You looked for George at his table and he caught back your gaze with silly faces. You giggled to yourself. Fred also peaked his head in your view and waved.
“Okay now you definitely are hiding something, is it the kid with the glasses?” Jacqueline asked, surprising you in the process. “What?”
“We know where you’re looking, it’s someone at that table. Is it the boy with the untucked uniform?” added Camille. “Jeez you guys can’t even bother to mind your own business, and why do you always think I’m with a boy?” you asked a little too defensively. “Why can’t you be like Renee, she’s not poking her nose into everything.”
“To be honest I want to know too.” she said.
“Oh... well anyway- don’t you guys have anything better to do?” you asked.
“Not really, but you’re getting off topic- is it the ginger haired guy?” asked Camille. “There are a lot of ginger haired guys.” you said.
“Hmmm... very suspicious, she has the knowledge that there are a lot of ginger haired guys.” said Jacqueline stroking an imaginary beard.
“You guys are just delusional.” you said jokingly to them.
-----------------------------------
Throughout your experience at Hogwarts, it was very interesting, and sure enough you were kept on your toes trying to see George without any of your friends suspecting anything. If they knew the two of you snogged a few times in a broom closet, you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Luckily Fred promised to keep it a secret.
You and George had a type of chemistry between you and him, and you could feel it from day one. It was only a matter of time before the both of you expressed your passion.
“Georgie, your lips are puffy...” you said slightly out of breath while still in George’s embrace.
“And? So are yours.” he said with a smirk, and brushing a hair out of place on your eyes. You slapped him playfully on the arm.
“That’s not what I meant. Won’t your friends and siblings suspect something?” you asked.
“Mm, I guess you’re right sweetheart. In fact my sister’s on my case now.” he said.
“Ginny was it?” he nodded to your response. “What excuse are you going to use this time?” you asked crossing your arms.
“I bumped into a tree?” he said cheekily. You laughed with your hands clutched at your stomach- he swears he could die happy from that. “What type of tree is that?” you asked calming down.
“One that looks like this.” he said booping your nose. “But more importantly, what about your friends, aren’t they ruthless?” he asked.
“Ugh yes. Keeping away from them is like Mission Impossible...” you said in an annoyed tone. “A mission what now?” he asked. You shook your head, and went back to put your arms on his chest.
“It’s nothing.” you said sweetly.
“Tell me, I wanna know.” he said bringing you closer.
“Fine, maybe later. But kiss me first.”
“Gladly.”
270 notes · View notes
angstsfordays · 4 years
Text
No, Mama!
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Summary: Steve Rogers faces the toughest challenge in his century’s worth of life presenting in the form of his 3-year-old son. Inspired loosely from the tiktok video on this post. 🥺💖
Pairing: Dad!Steve Rogers x Mom!Reader Warnings: None. Just FLUFF all around. Word count: 5k-ish Notes: Hi! I’m back with another story now that exams are over and I am on holiday! No angst this time just lots of sweetness. Really hope you like it as it’s just cute domestic fluff with 1 out of 2 favourite century old super soldiers!
Have a look at my masterlist of other stories if you’re interested! 🥰
Leave a like, reblog or comment to let me know what you think! Thank you! :) 
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The drive back home from the compound was always welcomed by Steve. Even after his many years of fighting, the world still counted on his help every now and then. As the saying goes, evil never rests.
He was starting to grow wearisome of the fighting but he knew that the world still depended on the Avengers. His innate sense of justice could not allow him the selfishness to abandon his duty. Furthermore, he needed to ensure the world was safe to keep his whole world safe.
Steve Rogers counted himself lucky still. He was able to meet someone who understood his line of work and still wanted to be with him till the end. You were a former SHILED agent and Avenger, now retired to take care of your family. As committed as you were to your career, you knew the moment your son was born, you were willing to give everything up to dedicate your life to him.
You exchanged your stealth suit for mom jeans and baggy shirts. Your combat boots with sneakers. You did not regret your decision.
You figured that you didn’t want your son to grow up with two parents who are often absent and risking their lives in the field. You made the choice to take a step back to raise your son with full time commitment.
Perhaps, you might return back to the field when he grows older. But that’s a thought for many years later. For now, it was a daily routine of diapering, feeding, napping, playing and lots of entertaining a spirited toddler.
You left your son, Hugh James Rogers to entertain himself with his wooden blocks and animal toys while you cleaned up after lunch. You just finished with the last set of dishes before washing your hands clean. 
The beeping sound of the Stark Technology home lock alerted your senses of someone entering the front door of your home. Recognising the sound of familiar footsteps, you quickly made your way out of your kitchen to welcome the arrival.
The clank of metal on the floor only served to quicken your steps as you threw yourself onto the big mass in your living room.
“Welcome back, Stevie.” Steve chuckled as he took a step back when your welcome caught him by surprise, his hands went to scoop your legs up and around his waist. You pulled away from the crook of his neck when you previously laid your head and gazed lovingly into your husband’s eyes.
Your fingers went to cradle the sides of his face before your thumbs moved along the bags underneath his eyes. Your brows furrowed at how tired he must have been from the mission. He had been away for almost three months and it was the longest he had been away from you and your son.
“I’m fine, doll.” Steve could sense your worry as you observed him silently for a moment. You knew better than to believe him. “I’m calling Tony.”
“Come on, love. There’s no need for that.”
“Don’t you try and stop me. Why does he get to stay home with Morgan and have you go out on such long missions? He’s not the only one with a family.” A pout formed on your face as your husband tried to coax you into leaving things be.
“Tony promised to give me a break after this. I won’t be on call for missions.” Steve reassured you. You raised an eyebrow with slight doubt but you knew Tony was a man of his word.
Steve’s heart soared at how much you looked after his well-being. He felt like the luckiest guy in the world for having someone to take care of him. With you, he could let his guard down and be vulnerable. People were used to viewing Steve with such awe, expecting him to be all strong and unfaltering.
However, he was only a human. He craved to be comforted when he was feeling his lowest. Steve was glad that he found and met you.
“I missed you so much, Stevie.” Steve was almost not ready for the onslaught of kisses that you started to pepper him on his face and lips to show how much you missed him. He relished in your love and care but it was short lived before you had yourself released from his hold.
Disappointment washing over him, he made to pout and whine until he heard your voice perked up.
“Hugh, Daddy’s home!”
The mention of his son’s name had Steve quickly follow you into the living room. As your son tilted his head in response to the sound of your voice, you crouched down beside him to get his attention.
“Look, Hugh! Where’s Daddy?” Your voice squealed in the baby talk as you gestured for Hugh to look towards Steve. Hugh did not move from his spot as his eyes moved to watch Steve who crouched down on his knees to meet his son’s eye level.
“Hey buddy, it’s me.” Stretching his hands out, Steve gestured for Hugh to come straight into his arms. Steve’s face was filled with anticipation for his son’s welcome. However, as seconds passed, dread started to fill Steve when Hugh still remained seating down.
You caught Steve’s crestfallen expression and decided to intervene.
“It must be the beard, babe. The last time he saw you, you were totally clean shaven.” You tried to explain at your son’s unusual behaviour.
“Should I shave it?” The gears in Steve’s mind started shifting at your words. You chuckled at the panic look that Steve showed.
“No, it’s fine. Besides, I love it.” You responded fondly as you moved to caress his full grown beard.  Steve’s eyes twinkled at your remark but he still looked sullen at your son’s lack of interests towards him.
“He will come around, Steve.” Indicating for Hugh to let you carry him, he toddled his way into your arms. Making your way towards Steve who now stood up, you hoped that you can help Steve to reacquaint Hugh soon.
If you were a little heartbroken at your son’s apathetic attitude, you were sure it was a thousand times worse for Steve.
“Should I bring the shield in so that he recognises me?” Oh, Steve.
———————————————————————
It had only been three days since Steve returned home from his last mission. He was still relishing in the comfort of his own home and the company of his family. With your help, Hugh starting to warm up to Steve again.
It involved the shield and a lot of re-enactment of himself as what Hugh watched on TV. Steve even called for Bucky to deliver the suit to your home from the compound so that he could get in costume for Hugh to be familiar with him.
However, his happiness was short lived when a call arrived for you. It was 3am when you got the call from the compound. You were called in for a special mission and honestly, both of you were taken aback since you have not been back in the field since you got pregnant with Hugh.
It was a hostage mission involving the child of a very powerful Italian mafia boss. You were specifically requested as you developed a friendship with said boss after saving his life once from your earlier SHIELD days. He did not want other Avengers involved despite their stronger talents. He only trusted you as a friend to get his only child back.
You agreed on account of your friendship and empathy with his plight as a parent. You were honestly worried about returning to the field after such a long hiatus but Steve had confidence in you. He understood the situation and encouraged you to take on the mission.
Your mission will take 48 hours and you had to leave Hugh for the first time in awhile. Aside from worrying about the mission, you also worried if Steve could handle Hugh on his own. He hardly parented on his own as you were always around.
You looked at your watch and saw that it was 8.30am. You were tasked to leave in half an hour. You had woken earlier at 7am when Hugh climbed into your bed. You decided to quickly freshen up and spend some time during breakfast together before you got ready to leave.
With your bag in hand, you left your room and turned to see your son and husband in the living room. The sound of your boots clicking on the wooden floor attracted the attention of the two men in the room.
“Mama!” Hugh called you as he put down his favourite dinosaur toy to walk over to you.  Placing your bag down on the floor, your arms stretched out to scoop your baby boy into your arms. His own chubby finger reached out to play with the lapels of your suited jacket.
 Steve looked at you from head to toe, admiring how you looked in a full formal black suit with a white silk blouse and combat boots. You reminded him of the first day he had met you when you were introduced to the team.
“It’s been awhile since I saw you in this getup.” You shifted Hugh’s weight in your arms before you responded.
“I thank god it still fits.”
“You look amazing, darling.” You could feel Steve’s eyes raking up and down when you sat down with him on the couch. He leaned over to give you a quick peck on the lips affectionately.
“Are you sure you will be alright?” Call it a woman’s instinct or more so mother’s instincts, you had a nagging feeling about leaving Steve alone with Hugh. No doubt Steve is a loving father, but in all the time of raising Hugh, his presence was staggered with missions, meetings and conferences.
Furthermore, Hugh was still getting to warm up to Steve after his previous long absence.
“I will be alright, Y/N. You raised Hugh so well, I’m sure he will be a good boy while you are away.” Steve reassured you of your worries as he smoothened Hugh’s messy locks. Hugh was in a long-hair phase now.
“Alright, I should go soon. I still need to head down earlier for the pre-mission briefing.” You said before looking over to Hugh.
“Hugh, Mama is going out for awhile. Be good for Daddy, ok?” Hugh’s interest in your attire was suddenly lost as soon as he heard your words.
“Why, Mama?” Hugh was smart and receptive for his age. He had slowly become attuned to the concept of Steve’s frequent and long absences from a young age. You had made sure to remind Hugh of Steve’s presence through video and phone calls nevertheless.
It was one of the ways to make sure Hugh bonded with his father. Sometimes, you were afraid Hugh’s bond with Steve would falter and you knew Steve shared the same worry so you did your best to be the bridge between father and son.
Luckily, you knew Hugh was incredibly fond of his father still as he always needed to have his Captain America plush to sleep.
“Hmm, Mama’s friend needs my help and as soon I am done, I will be back.” You thoughtfully came up with an answer that was easy enough for Hugh to understand.
“Like Dada?” Hugh made a thoughtful expression when he heard your answer.
“Yeah.” You nodded enthusiastically, thinking that Hugh will be understanding as how he would when Steve leaves for missions.
“NOOO! Dada go away long. Mama go away long.” Taken aback by Hugh’s sudden outburst, you looked up to meet Steve’s panicked expression.
“Oh Hugh, it won’t be long. Only two moons and I will be back, baby.” Calming your son down by bouncing him in your arms and patting down back, you hoped Hugh will ease on his crying.
“No, Mama!” Hugh immediately stood on the couch to wrap his whole body around your torso. His crying grew louder by the second. You and Steve were at a loss. Hugh rarely had such emotional outbursts. He had always been an easy-going child with a calm temperament.
“Hugh, Mama will be back really quick. Daddy will be here with you to wait for Mama.” Steve tried chiming in to calm your son down. Hugh seemed to start easing up on his cries and you handed him over to Steve.
“Baby, I promise I will be back real soon! You are a brave boy. Aren’t you, Hugh?” You tried to engage Hugh with encouraging words.
“Yes.” At the mention of the word ‘brave’, Hugh lifted his head off your shoulders to look at you.
“Hugh James Rogers is the best boy I know because he is really brave.” Taking advantage of the moment, you continued to give motivating words to Hugh so that he would feel better.
“Hugh is brave.” Your son responded adorably and you heart clenched at how cute he was. It was also because you almost regretted the decision to take on this mission.
“Yes. Hugh is brave.” You emphasized his words once more before starting to pick up your bag and making your way to the door. Steve followed closely behind you with Hugh in his arms, his nose still sniffling from his previous crying. 
“Take care, babe.” Turning to Steve, your hands reached out to bring his face closer and you give him a quick peck.
“I could say the same for you.” You eyed him before continuing. “I can’t be contacted at all for the next 48 hours. I already wrote down what to do for Hugh. His routine and such. I left it on the fridge-”
“I know, I know.” Steve returned with an expression that said he got this.
“You can do it, Daddy.” You stroke your thumb affectionately across Steve’s face. “Bye Hugh.” You made a kissy face, hinting for Hugh to lean down and give you a kiss.
“Bye, Stevie.” Steve leaned down similarly to kiss you once more and a bit longer than the previous ones. As he pulled back, he leaned in to kiss Hugh for another round of affection.
“Bye, boys.” You gave one more goodbye before walking over to the car. As you sat in the seat, you looked out the window to see your boys waving you goodbye.
Let’s do this, Y/N Y/L/N.
———————————————————————
Once you drove out of sight, Steve finally turned back to enter his home. Looking at his son with snot dripping from his nose, Steve went to clean it up. His eyes drifted to the clock hanging on the wall. 9.03 am.
Steve went back to his son whose sitting on the kitchen counter staring back with his wide eyes.
“Hey buddy, what do you think about reading some books?”
“No, Mama.” Steve was surprised at the immediate rejection. He did not expect Hugh to be putting up resistance once you had left.
Steve pondered for a minute on how to respond.
“Hugh buddy, should we play?”
“No, Mama.” The feeling of dejection washed over Steve once more at Hugh’s response to his proposal. How did you do it?
Steve went ahead to carry Hugh off the counter and bring him to his play area into the living room. Setting Hugh down on the baby-proofed flooring, Steve waited to watch what Hugh wanted to do.
Hugh looked back at Steve for a moment before standing up to walk over to the TV. Hugh’s head moved left and right as if he was looking for something. His small hands then skillfully reached to open the drawer and take out the remote.
“Boss-boss.” Hugh repeated. Steve had no clue what he was trying to say.
“What is it, bud?”
“Boss. Baby.” Like the over century old man he was, Steve had no clue what his Son was saying.
Hugh started stomping his feet and repeated the two words. Steve scrunched up his face in confusion at his actions.
“Boss. Baby. TV.” Hugh reiterated like a mini adult. Steve went to switch on the TV and the channel came on. Hugh’s finger went on to press the only white button on the remote, switching the channel to Netflix.
Steve’s eyes widened in amazement at what his son was doing. Hugh went on to click to the profile picture he recognised to be his. You had let him choose it himself.
Steve’s attention went back to the screen and the first thing he saw made him dawn in realization at what his son was trying to tell him along.
“You are indeed the boss baby, Hugh.” Steve spoke as he looked between the character on screen and his son. Steve inwardly chuckled at the slight resemblance. Hugh looked back at his father for a moment before passing the remote back to him.
Letting out the deep sigh, Steve thought that he was in for a long day.
Following an hour and a half of Boss Baby, Steve figured that it was too much television. He wanted his son to play like a normal child back in his days with toys. Steve’s decision was met with opposition as Hugh started throwing a tantrum.
Steve didn’t mean to make him upset but he was firm in his decision. He ended up cajoling Hugh for a good thirty minutes before convincing him to play with his toys.
Steve let out a deep exhale as he made his way to make lunch. He lifted the magnet that held the note you left for him. It explained Hugh’s routine and preferences.
Looking over at Hugh playing in the living room, Steve hoped that he could get lunch right for his son. He already felt defeated barely two hours into your departure. How did you do this for three years of Hugh’s life everyday?
Steve shook his head at his inadequacy as a father and hoped he could make it up to Hugh.
Lunch passed by with no issues, Steve thanked the heavens that he recalled Hugh loves cheese and made a grilled cheese sandwich. Nothing could beat the satisfaction that was brought from Hugh’s enjoyment of his lunch.
“How is it, buddy?” Steve’s question was met with silence but Hugh continued to take bites out of his sandwich. Steve grinned at this sight and considered this a small win.
Little did he know, this was his only win for the day. Nap time took awhile as Steve tried to pat a restless Hugh to sleep. After nap time, Steve had to wake up a grumpy Hugh from his nap and changed his diaper. If looks could kill, Hugh’s sent Steve into a deep hole for waking him up.
Steve tried to please him with milk and cookies. Afterwards, it was playtime before dinner. Dinner became a struggle when Hugh refused to have the porridge that Steve made. Hugh ended up having the leftover soup you had made and then kept in the fridge a day before.
Bath time was a nightmare as Hugh immediately started running off once he heard the word ‘shower’ came out of Steve’s mouth. While Steve was definitely quick to catch his son, Hugh ended up resisting his hold.
Hugh started splashing water from the tub that Steve had prepared which caused Steve to get wet and eventually joining his son.
Surprisingly, Hugh warmed up back to Steve and they had a great time pretend playing during bath time. However, this happiness was short lived once again when Steve announced that bath time was over.
It was another round of struggle for Steve to dry Hugh and dress him. The super soldier’s son ran out of the bath room and around the house stark naked. Steve had to chase him without his clothes as well. It was another twenty-minute chase and round of persuasion before Hugh allowed himself to be dressed.
It was already 10.30 pm and Steve decided it was bed time. Steve carried Hugh to his own bed and prepared to pat him to sleep. With his Captain America plushie in tow, he laid down for a peaceful moment.
Fighting aliens and bad guys could not tire him out as much as today. Steve patted Hugh’s side rhythmically and slowly, hoping for Hugh to fall into a trance. When Hugh started to blink, Steve assumed he was going to sleep soon.
Steve made the move to shift himself off Hugh’s bed but was met with a whine.
“No, Mama.”
“Come on, bud. You have to sleep.”
“No, Mama.” Hugh quickly sat up from his once sleeping position and made grabby hands at Steve. “Mama’s not here-”
Steve caved when he saw the puppy eyes and carried Hugh to his shared room with you. Placing the long bolster on one end of the bed, Steve placed Hugh between himself and the bolster to prevent him from falling off the bed in the middle of the night.
“I want Mama.”
“Me too, buddy. Hey, I know. I have drawings of Mama somewhere-” Steve got off the bed to search for something in his drawers and made a ‘o’ face towards Hugh as he held up several sketchbooks.
“Look what I have here, Hugh.” Steve exclaimed animatedly as he walked over back to his Steve who now sat against several pillows. Steve settled beside his son and began flipping the pages.
“Mama is here!” Hugh quipped excitedly when he spotted a sketch of you. You were leaning your chin on one of your palms, elbow on a table as you watched a video on your phone. You were in between a grin and chuckle as Steve recalled you watching a funny animal video.
It was a significant sketch because while you were doing nothing special and it was just an ordinary day where both of you had the day off, it was in that moment Steve knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you like this.
A simple and happy life with someone he loved and cherished.
Hugh went on to flip more pages and amazed Steve with how quick he was to recognise details in what he drew. You really did a great job raising Hugh. Steve only wished he had done more.
In fact, through today, he realised how he fell short on being a parent as he struggled with managing Hugh. This dawning realization had fell on him like a bomb and he didn’t even have a shield to protect himself.
“Mama again!” Hugh’s call snapped Steve out of his thoughts and his attention went to the random photo of the two of you. You had a love for taking and collecting photos. While photos can be forever kept in phones, there was always something special about one that was printed.
The photo in Hugh’s tiny hands was from your honeymoon. The two of you went to Japan and you were keen to see the cherry blossoms. You had one of the locals take a photo of you and Steve under a blooming cherry blossom tree.
“That’s right, bud. And there’s Daddy!” Steve pointed to himself who wrapped his arms around you close from behind.
The two of you were at peace for once. Away from saving the world, away from the perils of Avenging. It was just the two of you in the comforts of each other.
“Mama!” Steve scoffed jokingly at Hugh’s insistence. That’s why they say boys are always close with their mothers.
“Is Mama pretty?” Hugh turned to look at Steve and nodded fervently. Steve smiled at his son’s adorable act and decided to try his luck.
“Is Daddy pretty?”
“No, Mama!” Hugh huffed in response and even gave Steve a side eye. Oh well, he tried, Steve thought.
———————————————————————
The next 24 hours felt long but Steve got used to the routine. A text came after dinner time and Steve started to cheer inwardly when it came from you.
Your mission was successful but you needed to clear up some back-end work. Your mafia friend also insisted to thank you properly for your help and invited you to stay for a meal.
You initially refused as you wanted to quickly return home. However, you caved in at his persistence to persuade you. You will be back tomorrow before lunch. Steve wanted to share with Hugh the news but held back, once he figured that it might excite Hugh so much that it will disrupt his routine.
He figured he could tell Hugh the next morning closer to your time of return.
Steve ordered for flowers and your favourite takeaway to be sent as he thought of preparing an event for your return. He wanted to celebrate the success of your mission and showed his appreciation of you too.
As it got closer to noon, Steve had set up the living room with streamers and balloons. It was a little over the top but who cared? This was for you, his wife.
As soon as he heard the beeping of the door lock, he knew you had come back home. Steve heard you calling out for him and Hugh. Steve told Hugh to keep quiet and was pleased that his son was actually co-operative.
“Oh, what’s this?” Your voice drew closer as your steps drew closer to the living room, Steve pull the string of the party popper. Confetti in the air, Hugh blew into the party horn.
“Welcome back, Mama!” Steve exclaimed and your reaction was enough to call this event a success. Your jaw dropped at what your husband did and no words could describe how you felt. Multiple emotions came rushing in: surprise, joy, amazement, heartful gratitude.
“What’s this?” You asked once more. You took another gasp when Steve passed Hugh a bouquet of your favourite flowers. Your son took confident steps and presented them to you. You were floored.
“Oh my goodness. You guys-”
“Congrats on a successful first mission back after a break. We’re so proud of you, sweetheart.” Steve came up to embrace you and you were still reeling in from the surprise event he had done.
“Thank you. I’m so touched-” Steve’s lips came to meet yours before you could even finished. What a welcome home indeed. Your bliss was momentarily interrupted when you felt something or someone trying to claw your legs for attention.
You immediately crouched down and put your bouquet aside, leaving your arms open to scoop Hugh into your arms.
“Thank you, Hugh. I miss you so much, baby!” You started peppering kisses over your son to which he responded in squeals and giggles.
“Did you and daddy do all of this?” You asked animatedly.
“Yes, Hugh helped!” Hugh nodded while indicating to himself and you responded with a few more big kisses on his cheek. “Hugh is such a good boy!”
The three of you retreated to the couch where you continued to admire the setup of the living room. Hugh sat between you and Steve as he played with the party horn still. Steve was just quietly appreciating your presence back at home.
You started sharing about the mission while he listened to you intently. You asked Steve about his two days with Hugh and he let out a grunt. Chuckling at his exasperated expression, you knew it must not have been easy.
“The next time someone calls me a hero, I will say they’re wrong. You’re the real hero, Y/N. All mothers are.” An appreciative smile formed on your face at your husband’s words.
“Hugh said he had fun with me.” Steve excitedly told you of his accomplishment. Yesterday during playtime, Steve casually asked Hugh the question. Steve didn’t expect much, knowing that Hugh was still warming up to him.
“Hugh, are you having fun with Dada?” Hugh didn’t give a verbal answer but he nodded in response to Steve’s question. His response got Steve excited and Steve asked once more.
“You like spending time with me, buddy?” Hugh nodded once more and Steve knew that all his struggles were not in vain.
“Oh wow, that’s amazing Steve! You did such a good job.” Steve cooed under your praise as you caress the side of his face and leaned in for another soft kiss.
“Hugh, you had a good time with Daddy?” Hugh nodded wordlessly to your query as he fiddled with the confetti remains stuck on the couch. Steve and you looked at each other with wide satisfied smiles.
“Do you love Daddy?” You asked once more to which Hugh nodded once more. Steve let out a silent ‘YES’ as he held his hands up in victory.
“How much do you love Daddy?” You asked your son once more and Hugh paused his actions for a moment to think. He turned to you and Steve, the two of you waiting curiously for his answer.
“This much!” Hugh extended his arms out wide and horizontally.
You burst out in laughter as Steve clasped his hands together in gratitude towards Hugh’s answer. You could tell he was basking in joy.
“I love you this much too, buddy!” Steve returned with his own exaggerated gesture and Hugh laughed at his father’s silly antics.
“Mama.” Hugh made his way over to your lap and started to tell you how he missed you and if you missed him. Of course, you missed him so much. You made sure you did a good job so you can return to him safe and quick.
You and Hugh started to be in your own loving world as you exchanged sweet words, tender hugs and kisses.Steve, on the other hand, felt that his moment of bliss was short lived as he looked on at the both of you.
“Hey buddy, I want hugs and kisses too.”
“No, I want Mama!” You cooed at your son’s insistent preference for you, even if you feel bad for Steve.
“Hugh, you must thank Daddy for taking care of you. He loves you very much too, you know.” You tried to bring Hugh’s attention back to Steve.
“Thank you, Dada!”
“Nothing can beat a mother’s love.” Steve chimed as he looked at how Hugh was trying to hold your attention fervently. That’s it. He was going to make the call.
“Where are you going?” You asked Steve as he stood up from the couch.
“I’m going to call Tony. I’m taking a sabbatical. I want to spend more time with Hugh from now on.” You beamed at Steve’s words. He was making such a big decision.
“Once I get it approved, I won’t rest until I have what you have with Hugh too.” Steve proclaimed with determination before turning to Hugh.
“Hey Hugh, you and I are going to spend lots of time from now on. Are you excited, bud?” Hugh took a moment to ponder thoughtfully before smiling wide at Steve.
“No, Mama!”
“Oh come on!” Steve let out a grunt before marching out to get his phone asap.
You turned back to Hugh who had a cheeky grin and you jokingly chided him. “Stop teasing your dad, Hugh James Rogers.”
Hugh looked at you with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes and giggled. 
“Silly dada!”
———————————————————————
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Text
i really hate it
summary: you really don't like Matt’s quarantine mustache.
warnings: mention of the COVID-19 quarantine, Matt’s stupid mustache, but that’s really it
word count: 1.1k
note from the writer: I apologize for how short/awful this is. I’m not exactly happy with how it turned out, but I had this idea and I had to get it out of my system.
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Being in quarantine was something you never thought you would have to do, but you knew it was necessary. Thankfully, your boyfriend had offered for you to come back to St. Louis to stay with him and his family. 
It was great, they were fun to be around and they made everything going on in the world just a little bit less scary. Movie nights, walks around the neighborhood, and card games were the norm in the household, and you fit in among the Tkachuks. 
Everything was going great, and you were even able to stand your pest of a boyfriend for an extended amount of time. That was, until, his mom told him he needed to shave the scruff he had been letting grow out now that he wasn’t under the constant scrutiny of the media. 
He had decided it was a great idea to shave the beard off, but kept a mustache that you absolutely hated. The morning after found you with the rest of Matt’s family in the kitchen, you glaring at your boyfriend over a cup of coffee while he pretended not to notice. 
“Did you guys get in a fight or something?” Brady asked out of the blue, causing his mother Chantal to swat his shoulder and Keith to laugh. 
“No.”
“Yes.” You and Matt answered at the same time, causing him to whip around and look at you with furrowed brows. Your focus wasn't on his expression, though, instead you zeroed in your glare on just north of his lips. 
“Wait, really?” Brady questioned and you rolled your eyes, letting out a sigh. It was a rare thing that you and Matt argued, the two of you usually able to talk out anything that came up. But with quarantine, you have to expect the unexpected.
“No.” You admitted begrudgingly, and Matt just laughed at your response. “But you still need to shave.” 
“Come on, you love it.” Matt grinned, and you narrowed your eyes with a quick shake of your head. His smile turned mischievous, and you watched as he crossed the kitchen. You raised a brow, realizing he was trying to kiss you and just as he was about to connect your lips, you turned your head so he kissed your cheek instead. 
“It’s prickly. I don't like it.” You explained as his family laughed at the affronted look on his face. You grinned at him, patting his chest mockingly as you walked past him and into the living room where Taryn was waiting for you to start the show you had been binging with her as of late. 
For a while, that was the only time his stupid mustache was brought up. But just because you didn't mention it, doesn't mean you hated it any less.
“I wouldn’t let you near my kids.” You told Matt in the middle of a movie you weren’t really paying attention to, Brady laughing loud and your boyfriend taking the chirp in stride. Your comment was unprompted, but it had been weighing on your mind since you had seen the dreaded facial hair.
“Your kids are my kids, babe.” He tried to get back in your favor with a reminder of how much he meant to you and your plans to start a family together someday. Your response was quicker, and you were certain that Brady was going to have to leave the room with how hard he was laughing. 
“They won’t be if you don’t shave.” 
Matt was a pest, on and off the ice. It was a label he embraced, and even in your relationship, he was always looking for a chance to draw an annoyed ‘Matthew’ out of you at any chance he could get. And mostly, you embraced, this, the way he bugged you somehow endearing. 
But with that stupid mustache you were more on the side of irritated than endeared.
He quickly learned that you were dodging his kisses because of the way his mustache scratched your face. His scruff was different, you enjoyed the scruff. But you couldn’t stand the mustache. So, instead of just shaving like you so desperately wanted him to, he decided he found his new favorite way to bug you. 
The first time it happened, you had been in the kitchen with Chantal, helping her cook dinner when Matt and Brady came inside from playing basketball out back. You didn’t turn at first, electing to continue to stir the sauce you had been working on. You didn’t even jump when Matt wove his arms around your waist, and he had done it dozens of times before. 
You did jump and turn when he nuzzled his face into your neck, the damned mustache scratching your skin in the most uncomfortable way possible.
“Matthew!” You hissed, pointing the wooden spoon you had been using to stir the sauce at him threateningly. His only response was laughter, and you even heard Chantal and Brady chuckle at your distress. Matt was smiling at you, and despite how much you really hated the mustache, you couldn't help but crack a grin at how happily he was looking at you. 
“Don’t hate the ‘stache.” Matt teased, and you shook your head, stepping back into your previous spot in front of the stove. 
“I think you know I very much do hate the ‘stache.” You mocked, sticking your tongue out at him for good measure. Chantal just laughed, ruffling Matt’s hair as she walked past him and following Brady out of the kitchen, leaving you and her eldest to finish up cooking. 
“Hey,” Matt started, and in one swift movement he took the spoon out of your hand and spun you around, crowding you in against the counter so your back dug into the ledge. “Do you hate it that much? I can shave it if you want, I just thought it’d be a fun thing to do now that we’re stuck in here.” 
And suddenly you didn't totally hate the mustache. There was a hint of uncertainty in your boyfriend's tone, and that alone made your features soften. You placed a reassuring hand on his bicep, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before moving to your tip-toes to press a quick kiss to his lips, ignoring the prickling sensation.
“It’s not my favorite look, Matty. But I can deal with it.” You sighed. You hated to admit it, and you would never tell Matthew, but the mustache was kind of growing on you. He grinned at your words, dropping his head down to kiss you once more before standing tall with a cocky look on his face—one that spelled trouble and told you he had bounced back from any insecurities. The one that had you swatting his chest and turning out of his grip.
“I think it makes me look like a dad.”
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bbaronpiper · 4 years
Text
Red
Hi, to the anon who requested this, I’m sorry it took too long. I got a little busy and haven’t had the time to write it until today. Soooo.. here it is, I hope you’ll like it. 
Also, I don’t know if the translations of the lyrics are right. I just googled it. lol. thanks google! Parts in italics are either flashbacks or thoughts and paragraphs inside a parenthesis are translations. Some names here are completely made up. sorry if it happens to be your name. 
I don’t know which category will fit this story. fluff? angst? smut? definitely is smut *winks* or all of the above. 
Lastly, this one isn’t proofread yet, probably will revise later when I woke up (it’s 5 am and I haven’t slept yet. blame the coffee) if there are mistakes or rewrite the whole thing hahaha. okay enough talking. Enjoooyy! 
Hiii I saw your taking requests & I wanted to request an Arón Piper imagine. Where him & the reader are costars & he’s always had a crush on her but she was in a relationship until her boyfriend cheated on her & because of that her & Arón became closer & she eventually let’s him in for them to be more than friends. I got the idea from the song Soltera by Lunay ft Bad Bunny & Daddy Yankee (basically it just says how she’s single & that’s trendy rn & that she wants nothing to do w/ love)
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Arón x reader
“Y/N, are you almost ready? the party started like an hour ago!” you heard Omar groaning in the living room. You are going to a sending off party the Elite’s casts and production team set up for Danna, Mina, Ester, Jorge and Alvaro.
You look at yourself on the mirror one last time and put on your red high heels before opening the door of your room. You wore a red sleeveless bandage dress that complement your curves and ends just before your knees, your hair tied up in a ponytail exposing your neck up to your chest. You matched your dress with a bright red lipstick. So bright enough to scare a hooker. You were never this extra, you’re more of a girl next door type of girl. But that was then.
Months ago, you believe that red symbolizes love, celebration and happiness. Funny no?  But now, you don’t believe in love or in any of those things anymore. The old you were long gone and now, red has a new meaning for you: fire, fierce, and power sometimes anger.
“Damn girl! You’re on fire!” Ester said excitedly examining you from head to toe. This was more of her style and it suits her perfectly. Me? I’m not sure, but I try so hard just to bury my old weak self. My old self that believed in happy endings.
You laughed “Thanks to you! I should do more shopping time with you!” you said to Ester. You heard Omar clearing his throat “Okay, okay, we’re going hot stuff! So impatient!” laughing even more with the girls as Omar rolled his eyes at you. “Finaaalllyyy!!!!” he said dramatically. You took his arm and went downstairs.
Once you arrived at the club, you saw paparazzi’s on the entrance blocking the way making it almost impossible to enter the club. You expected this as you are a public person now, but you never got used to it. Grown ass men calling after your name at the same time, sometimes saying nasty stuffs too while their camera flashes at your face almost blinding you. “Y/N! Y/N! I heard you and Mateo broke up? What can you say about that?” “Is it true he cheated on you?” “he’s with Elena now, he says she’s much better than you!” that last one caught you off guard that you almost stumbled. Luckily, a hand grabbed your arm, tucked you in his arms shielding you from everyone and pulled you inside the club. You didn’t freak out even though you didn’t see his face. You knew who it was by the smell of his perfume.
You looked up and saw Arón looking at you worriedly. He must’ve heard it, you thought. He was about to say something when you beat him to it. “God that was crazy! Thank you though” you said lively like it didn’t bother you. It did, for a second but you were over it. You promised yourself you wouldn’t let anyone hurt you ever again. So, you put on a smile on go on with life.
“Anytime, Y/N” Arón said as he loosen his grip on your arm, slides it down to your wrist before totally letting go. You notice him just standing there staring at you so you took his hand and led him inside the club, the others following you close behind. You didn’t mind holding his hand or any of your cast mate’s hands, you two are good friends, you see him as a brother. He was there when you’re crying over your asshole of an ex-boyfriend. He knew what he did to you. He knew about all of your drunken nights and one-night stands and you knew about his. He was just like you. He enjoys life, loves to party and likes to fuck but never commit. That’s why you two grew much closer than before.
After one to too many shots, you are now having the time of your life. You’re a hot mess dancing and grinding over Jorge on the dance floor with Danna doing the same on him on the other side. “Oh man, you know I’m gonna miss all of you!” you screamed over the loud music. “eh? You’ll be fine you still have Arón” Danna laughed devilishly and winked at you.  oh this girl is so drunk. You looked over at Arón on the other side who’s not looking drunk yet with Itzan who on the other hand is dancing like crazy. He was always like this. He needed to get drunk a little first to bring out his extrovert side.
He was already looking at you so you raised your middle finger up at him and smiled. He laughed at you knowing it’s something you got from him. You both stared for awhile and you notice something different on the way he looked at you but you can’t just point it out. Was it just the alcohol you had or is he really… “You know he’s crazy bout you right?” Jorge said close to your ear snapping you out of your eye-fucking contest with Arón.
“what?!” you heard him but you just want to make sure you heard it right. You hear Danna laughing loudly and suddenly you burst out laughing too. You don’t know why but probably it’s because you both are drunk as fuck and everything is so funny at this point. You took Danna’s hand and start jumping up and down with her, laughing about nothing. “Y/N!! Y/N!!! it’s so fucking fun in hereeeee!!!!” she slurred. "I knooowww rigghhttt!!?" You continue jumping all over the place with her until Omar and Mina joined you and eventually more people did. Your head was spinning but you didn’t care. You’re having fun. You needed this.
You felt your back, mostly your ass bumped on to something. You turned around and saw Arón smirking at you. Soft blush starting to show on his cheeks signaling he’s drunk enough. “Heeeeyyyyyy Julio Manueeell!!!! You having f-fuuunn?!!!” you laughed at his face and scratch his shaved head. “Eh, not as much fun as you’re having, Y/S/N” he said while shaking his head at you. You and Arón has this thing where you call each other by your second names. Giving you both some type of ownership on one another. Like no one can call you by it except him, and his by you. You closed the gap between the both of you. pressing your body against his and spoke close to his ear “C’mooon I’ll shooowww yyou what’ss fuunn!!” He turned his head to the side at the same time you finished talking making your face so close to him. So close your lips almost touched. Damn this alcohol.
Soltera by Lunay ft Bad Bunny & Daddy Yankee started playing and you both went crazy. “This is our jam!!!” you screamed. “Your jam!” he corrected laughing at your drunken state putting emphasis on the word your.
You are dancing closely with your back against him. Swaying your hips as his hands went to your waist. You smirked to yourself as you felt his growing bulge on your ass. You didn’t care how close you are to him or if people will see you. Again, Blame the alcohol. You just want him close. So you grab him by the back of his neck and pulled him closer. His face was now buried on the crook of your neck. The feeling of his soft lips and the warmth of his breath turned you even more. You both drunkenly singing along to the song when he suddenly tightened his grip around your waist and turning you around to face him.
He grabbed your face with both of his hands and started singing to you. “Me dijeron que te acabas de dejar, Que el bobo aquel te engañó” (They told me you just left that fool that cheated on you.)
 “Que ya no crees en el amor. Que andas suelta igual que yo. No sé, pero la noche está pa’ desquitarno” (That you don’t believe in love. That you’re on the loose like me. I don’t know but the night is made to get even) He continued looking straight into your eyes.
The look on his face confused you. You guys are just friends right? But why is looking at you with so much.. what is this? Passion? Even on your drunken state, it had you thinking if he was sending you a message. Whatever. You decided to go along with it and send him one too.
“Porque 'tar soltera está de moda. Por eso ella no se enamora” (Because being single is in style. That’s why she doesn’t fall in love.) You sang to him with as much passion as him, smirking. “'Tar soltera está de moda. Por eso no va a cambiar” (Being single is in style that’s why she’s not going to change). Now it was your turn to hold his face while singing the lyrics hoping he got your message.
You both just dance there not giving a fuck about anybody, singing the song to each other the whole time trying to send the message. You are not ready for love nor commitment. You think you’ll never be ready for it. You promised yourself never again. Besides, it’s Arón. What you have with him as friends was so beautiful that you never want to ruin it by taking it to another level.
“Si no, nos vemo', mami, en el after party. Ponte pa'l problema, ándale, déjate ver. Lo que aquí empezamo', lo matamo' en el motel” (If not, mami, we’ll see each other at the after party. Get ready, let’s go, let me see you. what we start here, we’ll end at the motel. You’re singe, I’m single) Arón finish off the lyrics, with eyes full of lust. You were sure of that by now.
“okay, mister, did you just ask me to fuck you?” you said seductively as you bit your lip.
“Si” he said simply.
----
You woke up the next morning feeling like you’re still drunk. Your head was still spinning a bit so you decided to get up and go to the kitchen to look for some medicine. You grabbed the door knob and twist it open. Hmmm that was weird? since when did I paint the door white? you thought to yourself but shrugged it off for now as you desperately needed that medicine.
You walked around the apartment absent mindedly trying to get to the kitchen when you bumped into someone. “AAHHHH!” you screamed as you were surprised that someone is in your apartment when you live all by yourself. You heard the other person screaming as well. You looked up and saw who it was. “Arón! What the fuck are you doing here?!” you said trying to cover yourself as you are only wearing your oversized shirt. No bra, no panties, just your shirt.
“Umm, I live here?” Arón said unsure also questioning himself now. Scratching the back of his head.
“wha-? What do you mean you li-..? you looked around and saw the white walls, the windows made of glass where you can see Madrid’s skyline. Panic starts to creep in now. You looked at yourself. fuck. It’s not your shirt! It was Arón’s. You looked back at him turning red as a tomato. “Did we….? You trailed off afraid of his answer.
Arón laughed his ass off as he looked up laughing so damn hard. You hit him playfully on his stomach. He returned a small “oww!” from the hit you gave him. “The fuck you laughing about, dumb ass?” growing impatient now. Desperate to know if you fucked him.
“What do you think, Y/N?” he raised his eyebrow on you. “why are you all so red now, babe?” biting his lips trying to hold his laughter.
“Dare laugh one more time and I swear I’ll beat the shit out of you Julio Manuel” you threatened him as you massage your temples. “ugh damn this headache”
“C’mon sit, I’ll get you breakfast and medicine while you rethink your life choices… specially last night” he teases.
“fuck you, Arón” you gave him the dirty finger as you proceed to his kitchen table.
“You already did, cariño” your eyes widened as he gave you a wink in return. You took a deep breath and placed your elbows on the table supporting your head. Trying to think about the events on the previous night.
You tried so hard to remember but all you get was flashes of memories. The last thing you remember at the club was when you asked him:
“okay, mister, did you just ask me to fuck you?” you said seductively as you bit your lip. “Si” he said simply.
Then you remember grabbing his face and smashing your lips onto his. “Fuuucckk!!!” you whispered to yourself but Arón heard it and chuckled. “What you remember now?” he asked playfully.
You put your pointer finger up at his direction “Shhhh!!! Not a single word from you again, Piper!” as you went back to thinking again.
Arón came back with two plates of pancakes. One for him and one for you and one Advil for your headache. “Thank you” you murmured. You looked up at him and saw he has his goofy smile plastered on his lips. You knew he was about to mess with you again so you glared up at him. He just shrugged and bit his lips in return.
“Can I?” Arón asked with his voice full of lust as his hands was already placed at the hook of your bra. As soon as you moaned yes, he wasted no time and unhook it revealing your breasts. His pupils getting larger and darker at the sight of you. He then proceeds to kiss your neck down to your collarbone. He kissed everywhere around your breast but not your nipple. Trying to tease you. he kissed you lower and lower until he reached the hem of your panties. Your hand then travelled to his bare chest down to his belt buckle and undone it. you unzipped his pants and tried to pull it down but failed. “Arrrooonnnn!!!” you pouted and whined like a ten year old that can’t reach the jar of cookies on the top shelf. Arón then laughed at you, sit up and remove his jeans by himself.
“God you are so drunk Y/N, you sure you wanna do this. I feel like I’m taking advantage of you?” you didn’t answer him. You just pulled down your panties. “ohh okkkkaayyyyyyy” Arón said under his breath feeling himself getting harder. “say red if you want me to stop, okay?”
 “Just fuck me.” And just like that. Arón grabbed both of your ankles and spread your legs wide. He started off licking your clit slowly and slid a finger inside you and curling it. earning a moan from you.
“You’re so wet, Y/N” he spoke and dive back in. licking you harder and faster than before. Grabbing the back of his head, you felt his tiny hair around your fingers, pushing him harder against you. He looked at you from in between your legs. You had your eyes closed and your mouth opened forming an O shape. Just about before cumming, he stopped.
 “Why’d you stop? Haven’t said red. have I?”
“I gotta have you. Now.” He aligned himself on your entrance. looking at you asking for your permission once again. You trailed your fingers to his chest down to his abdomen ‘til you reached his dick. You wrapped your hands around it, stroking it a little before guiding him inside you. you heard Arón groan. As you sighed in pleasure. He felt so good. He started pushing in and out of you slowly until it became faster and faster slamming on your g spot. You heard yourself screaming his name.
“Fuck Arón, you feel so good.” You moaned thrusting upwards to meet with his. Earning loud groans from him. He leaned down and kiss you. Sucking on your lower lips. You wrapped your legs around him forcing him to go deeper. The sounds of your moans filled the room and you felt yourself clench around him. And you knew you were close.
“That’s it baby. Cum for me” Arón encourage you. With that, you finally let yourself go. Arón not far behind you feeling your pussy fluttering around him. He pulled out of you, stroke himself and cum on your stomach.
“Fucking hell” you said as you instantly dropped the fork your holding and looked at Arón who was sitting opposite of you. He still had his goofy smile on him. Is he seriously happy about this? “Arón, what happened last night… we gotta, we gotta forget about it” you stuttered as you watch his face drop.
“huh? Why?” He stared at you trying to figure out what you were thinking.
 “You know damn well why, Arón” You looked down on your untouched pancakes avoiding eye contact.
He didn’t say a word for a while. “I’m not him, you know” he said under his breath poking on his pancake with his fork.
“I know that. I never said you are him” your heart’s starting to race. Unprepared of the coming conversation with your best friend. “but we’re fine like this right? You don’t want to be in a relationship, and so do I. Arón, we’re friends. We don’t wanna ruin it” trying to make up excuses but in reality you’re just scared to admit it to yourself.
“We?!” he asked clearly disappointed at the words he just heard from you. “who’s we Y/N? you meant you? Cos if you’re gonna ask me, I’m more than willing to try”
 “Arón you know I can’t. I’m happy being single. I’m done with all those fucking heartbreak! I just want to be happy!” you raised your voice a little, getting frustrated at the fact that Arón, your best friend said, he’s more than willing to be with you.
“Then we’ll be happy together! I’ll make you happy!” he said at the same tone you had. His eyebrows furrowed.
“It’s not that simple!” you completely lost your cool now. “You don’t know what it feels like! It’s hard that you’re always the one willing to take a bullet for the one you love only to discover that they’re the ones behind the trigger! I can’t go through that again!” you pointed your finger at him.  “it would kill me. You think I chose this? You think I chose to be this stone cold?” tears now forming on your eyes.
Arón’s face softened at your words. He stood up and walked over to your side pulling you close to him. You were still sitting down so your head only reached his stomach. “Shhhhh! I’m sorry Y/N, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry” he tries to soothe you as he rubbed your back. “but please just hear me out?” you nodded your head yes as you sniffed. He knelt down on your level looking at you with love in his eyes. “Y/S/C, you know I had my eyes on you the first time you walked in on set.” He caressed your cheek with his thumb. “I figured I liked you that one time when you pulled a prank on Miguel and Itzan causing the whole cast to laugh. I knew I loved you the moment I saw you crying over him outside the club and you told me what he had done. I can't believe he treated you like shit when you deserve the world. I spent my whole night with you when all I wanted was to knock him out. I mean don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed your company. But yeah, I’d rather beat the shit out of him that night” he said causing you to laugh a little. “I know I said I don’t wanna be in a relationship right now but what I really meant was, I don’t want to be in a relationship if it wasn’t you.”
“I’m scared” your voice was trembling. 
“I know baby. I know. I can’t promise you I won’t hurt you ever in anyway. That’s not how love works, right? We will probably hurt each other at some point. But I can promise you that I would never ever hurt you the same way as he did. Just let me prove it to you. Please? Don’t give up on love just yet.” He said with sincerity. You knew him. You knew he wasn’t lying.
You felt yourself melting under his gaze. You stayed silent as words fail to form on your tongue. So you just placed your hand at the back of his neck stroking it gently like he did to your cheeks and your other hand layed on his chest close to his heart. You felt his heart beating faster and so is yours every second that passes by.
You thought about it hard. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened or when it started. All you know for sure is that right here and now, you are falling hard and you are hundred percent sure he was there to catch you. it would be tragic to let something like this pass.
“Sometimes we have to stop being scared and just go for it. Either it’ll work or it won’t. That’s life, no?” you stared at him waiting for his reaction. Small smile forming on your lips.
Arón smiled widely at you and exhaled the air he was holding in for a while now while waiting for your answer. He hugged you tightly whispering “Te quiero, Y/S/N”. He pulled away and kissed you passionately. You kissed him back with as much passion as his. You felt his hand travel up your thighs but just before things got heated, you pulled away.
“Woah, lover boy, can I eat my pancake first?” you said winking at him. He just laughed, shook his head and went back to his seat, pouting like a baby. “Why do you have to be such a tease?”
You stick out your tongue and your middle finger up at him, smiling. Happy at the thought that he brought back the meaning of red you once tried to forget. 
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3pirouette · 3 years
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Fic: The Honey Trap (9/?)
Title: The Honey Trap
By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette
Disclaimer: They're not mine.
Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :) 
Story Summary: Peggy’d lost count. She wasn’t sure if she was a double or triple agent at this point, and in the end, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting out of this alive.
A/N: I'm giving you another chapter this weekend because I can. I've got a significant portion of the Epilogue written, and just a chapter or two to fill in the middle, so we're looking at about 12 in total. I'll post as they're written, but no promises on when. 
I'm VERY curious to see what you all think about this chapter. We've just had angst, angst, angst up until now, and now? Well, it's a little bit of a departure, and I hope you like it. 
Chapter 9: Infiltrating the Lap of Luxury
Three Days Later
Peggy was nauseous. The red and black. The banners. The eagles and swastikas. The double lightning bolts.
They were everywhere.
Just three days in Berlin had reminded her who, and what, they were fighting for. If the concerned well-to-do Nazis of London had confused her, this had shocked her right back to reality.
Wallace had given her practically no notice that they were leaving, to the point where she’d wondered if either or both of them had been found out and they needed to run. She’d had barely enough time to throw the essentials in a bag and finish the letter.
Since they’d started with the letters, she’d had one half written, waiting in the false bottom of one of the drawers in her apartment for her to fill in days, times, and places. She knew one day they’d have to make a hasty retreat, and that came far faster than she had been prepared for.
He’d been manic, not because they’d been found out, but because he’d been offered something he couldn’t pass up: face time with the men who were running everything. They’d been invited to the heart of Berlin for a party, and then to accompany a high-ranking scientist to the Alps.
None of that had made it into her letter.
She was sharing a hotel room with Wallace, and the Agent who had escorted them to Berlin was residing right next door. She wasn’t sure if he was there to keep them safe or to keep tabs on them, but she wasn’t going to press it either way. She played appropriately lovelorn on the plane over the channel, then slowly warmed back up to Wallace. By the time they’d made it to the hotel she was holding his hand and chatting about how excited she was to be invited to such a thing.
Peggy wasn’t sure what Wallace was anymore, where his allegiance fell, or what he expected her to behave as, but she was along for the ride, and that meant keeping him happy.
She still made him sleep on the couch.
In the morning, the symbols all around her were brighter and more apparent, and the charade was harder to keep up. Wallace paraded her around office buildings and at dinners with men whose names she’d only heard about in official communiques. It seemed the information he thought he was stealing from her had made him somewhat infamous, and they didn’t seem to understand, thankfully, that she’d led them into several ambushes at this point.
She found it baffling and sickening, but she let them believe they’d lured her over to their ideology, that she was no longer interested in serving the Allied Powers as they’d done nothing for her.
She had once chance to pass on all she knew. One communique. She hoped they were ready.
~*~
Dugan stood just outside the hotel, pulling down on his deerstalker cap to stay hidden in the twilight. He’d shaved his moustache, to which they’d all laughed, and dyed his hair a glaring blonde, even though he was keeping it hidden under his cap.
There were precious few they trusted for this, and even fewer who could walk into the heart of Germany and potentially not be recognized by either the SS or Wallace. Dugan somehow fit that bill. He worried that he was too early, but being too late might compromise the drop. He stopped and rubbed his knee, feigning pain to buy himself some time. Eyes were everywhere, and they didn’t hesitate to report suspicious people under such a regime.
Peggy was due any minute. Any second.
And there she was.
Laughing.
Dugan looked up, surprised, to see her laughing and smiling with Wallace, dressed to the nines complete with heels and a fur stole and the ever harder and harder to get silk stockings.
She was walking towards him on her way out of the hotel, and the only acknowledgement he got was the casual flicker of her eyes as she neared, the same she’d give any passing pedestrian.
Just a few steps away she stumbled and then stopped, Wallace concerned for her as they both looked down at the ground. “Are you all right, Maggie?”
Peggy stood and smiled, shrugging. “New shoes. I haven’t had a pair of proper dancing shoes in so long I think I must have forgotten how to wear them!” Her tone was light, and she kept Wallace’s eyes at hers with her smile, but Dugan was looking at her feet, where Peggy slipped her toes from her heel and dropped a small slip of paper on the ground before slipping her foot back in again. She kicked her foot up towards Wallace and wiggled her toes. “Should be good to go, dear. To dinner?”
He nodded and set them moving again. “Yes, quite right. Perhaps you should wear your new ones for the party tomorrow when we get back tonight, wouldn’t want you stumbling in that company.”
Dugan waited until they passed, playing up on the rubbing of his knee, and then started limping lightly forward, towards the scrap of paper on the ground. He stopped again, shoe stepping directly on it, and rubbed his knee, before walking away with only the tiniest glance back to tell him that the paper was stuck to the bottom of his shoe.
A block later, he stopped, picked it from his shoe, and continued on his way.
~*~
Stave, Bucky, and Dum Dum hovered over the paper, slowly decoding it by flashlight in their tiny tent in the middle of the German forest.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Dum Dum laughed. “How does she think we’re going to do that?”
“We clean up good!” Bucky retorted.
“Yeah,” Steve started, throwing the pencil down and slumping, “but I don’t blend in so well with a crowd here.”
“Well, I’m going. Where do I get my hands on a suit?” Dugan smiled. “You know what kinda women are at these parties?”
“Yeah, Nazis.” Barnes retorted, shaking his head.
“Ok, well, you’re not wrong there.” He shrugged. “I just miss going to parties, and beautiful women all dressedto the nines there.”
Dugan and Barnes shared a moment of agreement before Bucky focused them back on the mission. “And how do you plan on getting in?” Barnes asked cheekily. “We just going to walk in the front door?”
Steve rubbed his face. “It’s going to be guarded, there will be invitations… no. There’s no way we get in the front door play acting like we’re guests without being made.”
“So what?” Dugan asked, reading over the note again. He pointed at the most important detail: “Must get Zola at Black Tie tomorrow night. Last Chance before Alps.” He shrugged. “Maybe it would be easier to try to get him while he’s going over the Alps to the Hydra base.”
Bucky shook his head. “I mean, potentially less guards on one of those trains, but some of those tracks are treacherous. They’re lucky the trains make it through. One wrong move there, we’re not just captured, we’re dead.”
“So what? We go in as the caterers?” Dugan laughed. “I already shaved my moustache for this, I’m up for a good disguise.”
“It’s a mansion, right?” Steve asked, trying to be positive. “Maybe we just need to…” He took a moment, his head twisting and turning as he thought of and discarded ideas. He stopped, throwing his hands out to the side. “I got nothing.”
Barnes just punched him on the shoulder good naturedly. “You know, you’re lucky you’ve got Peggy to do all the heavy lifting in this relationship.”
Steve hung his head, smiling. “Don’t I know it.”
~*~
Peggy did her best to smile, but was still sickened by the excess. She’d seen the state of the German forces, of the men in the field and the men they captured.
It was always revolting to see how the men who ran the wars, but never experienced them, lived.
Champaign. Caviar. Grand dinners and ballrooms full of music and dancing. The war hadn’t touched these people. They hadn’t watched friends and family die. After listening to them, she guessed most of them had probably profited off the backs of the boys in the trenches.
For every man with a gun, the real monster was a faceless man in an office calling his shots.
She hated to admit she enjoyed the luxury of a hot bath, of the silk stockings she hadn’t had in months, of a new green silk dress that hugged her curves and didn’t smell like mothballs, of shoes that fit and hadn’t ever seen a patch of mud. She felt guilty every minute, preening and putting on make-up and rolling her hair just right so that she wouldn’t stand out. The guilt had nearly overwhelmed her, but she had a job to do, and she could deal with the emotional toll of this later.
By the way everyone looked when they walked into the mansion, she and Wallace stood out. Their novelty dimmed, however, as they were slowly introduced around the room. Once they were no longer strangers, they were no longer a unique oddity to be admired or a threat to be monitored. Wallace worked hard to get in front of the generals, in front of the men with the most medals and the stiffest backs in the room, to get some facetime with the people that could get him closer to whatever his goal was.  
She only had one goal: Arnim Zola.
He was Schmidt’s right-hand man, and he was vulnerable tonight.
She had three different plans, depending on how the boys were able to make it in. She guessed they weren’t walking in the front door, as the security was heavy and nearly every man in the room wore the swastika on his arm and carried a gun with him. She only hoped they could follow her lead, or she could pick up whatever plan they’d come up with quickly to avoid a disaster.
Step one: meet Zola.
Peggy let Richard pull her around the ballroom for a while, smiling and nodding on his arm, keeping quiet as they traded stories and allegiances. She kept Zola in her sights throughout the night, taking note that he was often alone, and easily flustered. She smiled, realizing that his cheeks reddened every time he talked to a beautiful woman.
Peggy made her excuses and stepped out of the ballroom for a breath of fresh air. She’d hoped she’d be able to make contact with the boys but they weren’t anywhere to be found near or around the small, empty balcony. She took the moment to compose herself, and waited until the doctor was situated between her and Wallace so it wouldn’t look like she’d avoided Wallace, but rather ran into the doctor by mistake.
And run into him she did, literally, bumping his shoulder as she moved past him, covering her face and putting on her apologies before feigning recognition. “I’m sorry, are you Doctor Zola?”
He almost chocked on a sip of his Champaign. He looked her up and down, and Peggy smiled even wider, knowing that her care in dressing had done its job. “Yes,” he choked out as he regained his composure. “And who might you be?”
Peggy put her hand in his and let him kiss the back of it, forcing a blush by imagining Steve. “Oh, me? I’m nobody. But I just couldn’t help but overhear your name whispered here and there, and to have the chance to meet you!” She giggled and shrugged. “Though I am quite sorry for bumping into you.”
“Oh, no matter, my dear. But for such a beautiful creature, I must have a name.” He was earnest, and she almost, almost felt bad for what she was about to do.
“Maggie,” she replied softly, not feeling bad at all as she remembered the thousands of men that had died because of him.
He smiled, not letting go of her hand, and she smiled right back.
~*~
Bucky did not like hiding in the closet outside of the bathroom, but he did it because there was really no other choice than to sit there and wait for Peggy. They’d managed to sneak their way in through the basement early this morning through a drainage ditch, and Steve and Dugan were hiding on the floor below them in a root cellar.
The fact that Bucky was the only one small enough to fit in the dumbwaiter to get between floors was the only reason it was him and not Steve up here. He tried not to swear as yet another woman passed him that wasn’t Peggy.
“One click if you can hear me, Buck.” Steve’s voice came through his comm. It was tinny and buzzed incessantly, but the earpiece radios Stark had made them were far, far better than the bulky blocks they’d carried in the field up until now. Bucky clicked the talk button on the small box on his belt and waited for Steve to continue. “Dugan and I have managed to get our hands on some SS uniforms.”
Bucky clicked twice, acknowledging that he understood. Barnes wondered if they’d knocked people out and stolen their clothes, or if they’d simply found the wash.
He stopped, all thoughts gone out of his head when he saw Carter turn down the small hall, slowly moving towards the bathroom and seemingly absent mindedly turning door knobs.
He waited until she stepped into the small bathroom then slipped in behind her.
“Well, it’s about—” Peggy stopped, putting her hand over her mouth to stop from screaming. “You’re not Steve.”
Barnes shrugged. “He didn’t fit in the dumbwaiter.”
“I’m not going to even ask,” she sighed, sitting her hip against the sink and stepping out of her heels to rub her feet. “We have a small window of time. I’m going to get Zola into the office one hallway down. Do you know it?”
“Yeah,” Bucky nodded.
“I’ll incapacitate him, then you three are up, alright? He should be out for several hours, at least, but please be careful. If you jostle him enough, he will wake up.”
“Wake up?” Barnes asked.
“Wake up,” she confirmed. She looked him over, the black fatigues out of place in the resplendent bathroom. “Do you think you can handle that?”
Barnes smirked at her, “You think we can’t?”
Peggy sighed and smiled. “If I didn’t miss you so much, I’d hit you.” She moved to walk past him then stopped, serious. “One more thing, and you mustn’t forget.”
~*~
Bucky unfurled himself from the dumbwaiter, misjudging the distance and falling to the floor in a heap. “God, I hate that.”
“What happened? How is she?” Steve peppered him with questions as he helped him stand, looking awful Aryan with his blonde hair and blue eyes and the red band brandished across his arm. Dugan, too, fit in just a little too well in the suit now that he’d bleached his hair.
Bucky took them in as he stood, trying to shake the earie feeling seeing them in the uniforms of the enemy. “She’s fine. We’ve got about fifteen minutes to get to the office down the hall from the bathroom. We should be able to take the back stairs.” Bucky had done the interior recon early in the morning, slipping through and learning the layout when the residents inside had all been sleeping. “You got one of those for me?”
Steve handed him a pile. “They should fit.”
Bucky stripped and put the new clothes on, stopping as he buttoned up the jacket. “She- shit.” Bucky looked at Steve, lips pursed tight as he shook his head. “She told me not to forget something.”
“And you forgot it?” Dugan asked, incredulous.
“I mean, it wasn’t that important.” He moved back to buttoning himself into the jacket. “Come on, she’s waiting on us.”
~*~
Peggy rounded the table, pretending to be infinitely interested in the little metal figures that told a story of Aryan supremacy. “I find it all very fascinating, Doctor Zola.”
He smirked, downing the rest of his Champaign. “As I thought you might, fraulein.”
She stepped up to him, close, and played with the edge of his collar. “It’s so hard to find a man of substance these days,” she whispered, letting her nail run down over the buttons on his shirt.
“Ah, my dear, we are all involved in bringing glory to our cause!” He proudly exclaimed, watching her hand and then looking up into her eyes. “I might say, it is… refreshing to have a woman find interest in the matters of the mind. Usually, they are interested in more… superficial things.”
Peggy turned them so he was looking away from the door. She’d left it cracked, and could see shadows. She couldn’t take the chance that it wasn’t Steve and the boys, so she made her move. “Ah, yes, well, I am not one of those women.”
She leaned down and kissed him, lips pressed tight to his, for long seconds. He was surprised at first, but began to participate wholeheartedly once the initial surprise passed, gripping her tight with small, sweaty hands that roamed. She counted in her head, and Peggy pulled back as soon as she’d made sure it had been long enough, smiling at his fluster. “You see, I’m a different kind of woman all together.”
He started to reply, but found he couldn’t. Slowly, Peggy lowered him to the floor as his eyes fluttered shut.
She looked up, feigning surprise as the door opened. She’d been ready to call out, concerned that the Doctor had passed out on her from too much to drink when she saw the uniforms, but smiled when she saw the face attached. “Right on time, men.”
“Damn, Peggy,” Dugan whispered. “You are good at getting things done!”
“Are you okay?” Steve asked, stepping over Zola and helping her to stand.
“I’m fine. A little disgusted at the revelry, but fine.” She looked around, watching as Barnes and Dugan lifted the doctor, slinging his arms around their necks. “You’ll be able to get him out?”
“We’ve got a truck waiting half a click south just outside a sewer.” Barnes whispered. “Won’t be pleasant, but we’ve got it.”
“You have to ask him about this Swiss base, Steve.” She held his hands tight and pleaded with him. “They have something there, something related to those energy weapons Howard’s been studying. I don’t know what it is, but it’s big. And it has to be stopped.”
“You do it,” Steve whispered fiercely. “Come with us.”
She shook her head. “We both disappear and that’s a target on us all. Besides, I’m headed to the Alps tomorrow, the base the day after.” She gave him a small, nervous smile. “I don’t know how, but Wallace has arranged an audience with Schmidt.”
“Then here,” Steve shoved a small square in her hand. “Beacon. Turn it on tomorrow. Howard says it should last three days. We’ll track you.”
“Come on, buddy, we gotta go,” Barnes whispered. “Party’s breaking up and they’re gonna find us.”
Without warning Steve grabbed her and kissed her. Peggy pushed him away to his confusion.
“Barnes!” She half yelled, half whispered, shooting daggers over Steve’s shoulder at the man.
“What—” Steve could barely get the word out before he fell to the ground, eyes blinking shut.
“That’s why you didn’t want him to kiss you?!” Barnes looked at her and almost dropped Zola. “You gotta say stuff like that, Carter! I thought you just didn’t want to be messin’ around while on a mission!”
She dropped to her knees and started gently hitting Steve’s cheek. “Yes, Barnes, I didn’t want to be ‘messin’ around’ on a mission, especially when I have knock out lipstick on, you dolt!” She took a deep breath. “Get Zola out, Steve’ll be around in a minute or so and I’ll send him after you.”
“Are you—” Dugan started to question her, but her stern look stopped him. He and Barnes hiked Zola higher and with a glance, moved him out into the empty hallway.
“How much you want to bet he’s done that before?” Dugan whispered as they moved.
“Oh, I’m sure that idiot has done that before.” Bucky paused, hiking the small man higher over his shoulder. “How do you think she knows how long it’ll take him to wake up?”
“Good point.”
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