the way he stares at her

Raven knew he knew who she was.

It was obvious, the way his stare would linger on the back of her head as she walked by him in the halls. The way his sentences would simply cut off the moment she stepped into view, and he would let his words hang in silence until she walked away.

[more under the cut]

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anonymous asked:

Platonic Seb! He convinces the reader, a cast-mate, to ask Chris Evans out (she thinks Chris doesn't feel the same way about her but Seb knows that he does and is scared to ask her out too).

i love platonic seb. :( he seems like he’s such a great friend ahhhhh

“seb, i dont know.” you sighed, kicking the door to your trailer open.

he followed you in, dropping his water bottle on the counter. “what dont you know, (y/n)? it’s so fucking obvious that he’s head over heels for you!” 

you stopped in your tracks and turned to him, your hands landing on you hips. he crossed his arms over his chest and stared at you.

“seriously, it won’t kill you. just ask him.”

“what if he says no?” you cried.

sebastian let out a groan. this was the last time he was going to play match maker with his friends. 

“he’s not going to say no! i know he’s not.”

you stared at him in silence before spinning on your heel and locking yourself in your tiny room. sebastian grabbed his water bottle and left your trailer but not before calling out that you should just ask.

some days later, you took sebastian’s advice and asked chris out. to your surprise, he said yes. you two set up a time, place, and date and then you were both shuffled away from each other and back to your trailers.

on your way back, you found sebastian lallygagging around set. you ran up to him and threw your arms around his neck, squealing in his ear. he stumbled around before he gained balance. he wrapped his arms around your waist and squeezed you before you two let go.

“what’s up?” he asked. “i know you dont just run up to me and almost kill me for no reason.”

“i asked chris out and he said yes!”

sebastian’s face broke into a smile. “(y/n), that’s great! see, i told you. you had nothing to worry about.”

“i seriously wouldnt have done it without you. thanks for being that extra push.”

he shot you a wink. “just call me cupid.”

Sail

A/N: This fic just kinda poked at me one night while listening to some tropical tunes. I got to thinking how funny it would be if Inuyasha unluckily found himself in charge of navigating Kagome on the open sea in search for her pod of whales. 2300 words. (Unedited, but will edit soon!)


“You’ll never get the mast up that way.”

Kagome twisted around with an arched eyebrow, surveying the area for the location of the voice. But there was nothing but the gentle crash of waves on the dock, and the black beady eyes of a seagull staring back at her as he stood in wait for scraps on a stained wooden beam. (Which, joke’s on him because she didn’t have money for any snacks today.)

“Over here.”

She moved her head to the right and sure enough there was a man; looking at her with a mix of confusion and…disdain? She blinked twice and then righted herself, trying to place if she knew him or not, (trying to not be distracted by the tanned sleeveless arms crossing his chest).

No certainly not, she’d recognize that silvery white hair (and impressive frown) anywhere for sure if that were the case. There’s no way she’d forget him so easily.  

“I’m sorry do I know you from…?” She hedged, waiting for the man to confirm they were strangers. But then his expression evolved quickly into unexpected disappointment and she worried her bottom lip, second guessing herself.

“No, guess not.” He shrugged almost like he had given up on a very daunting task, then pivoted on his foot to start briskly walking towards a tiny slop of a bar at the end of the boardwalk. Kagome tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, only to have it fall back into her eyes.  

“Wait, what were you trying to say?”

He stopped and glanced back with pricked ears.

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My Name Is Min Yoongi- (Suga Scenario)

Anon asked: Could I request a Yoongi scenario Where he has a crush on a Solo Idol and the other boys find out about it and at First tease him but agree that she would Be Perfect for him and help him to getting close to her? 😍 PLEAse ❤️ 

I hope this is what you wanted, this is my first “story” that I’ve ever written about BTS, so sorry if it’s shit. Oh, and since female pronouns were used in the ask, I used them in the story.  -Spice


Yoongi was definitely not staring at you from afar as you prepared for your performance for the MAMA awards, and he most certainly didn’t find you to be the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. He kept trying to tell himself over and over that there was no way he had any semblance of a crush on you, and that he just respected you as an artist, but he kept catching himself wondering if your hair was really as soft as it looked or if your lips felt as plump as they appeared. Min Yoongi, the genius, had fallen head over heels for a girl he knew nothing about.

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fcllenflowers  asked:

*It seems that Steel has chosen the wrong day to try and sneak inside someone else's kitchen. Hanging halfway through the kitchen window, head inside and feet dangling outside, she raised her head to spot another person sitting at the end of the kitchen table. Damn it. She'd been pretty sure there was no one inside before she attempted the climb. She hovered there, grip firm on the windowsill and stared at them blankly, blinking a few times.* {Plis kiss her cheek and thank u}

Normally, Lemon did not enjoy having random strangers casually sneak into their kitchen. Normally, he would’ve shouted, called the police, thrown a pan in their face– anything to show them that their visit was anything but appreciated.

However, the intruder was lucky, because his current mood was weird. At the sight of them holding onto the windowsill, all he did was grin, for once actually excited to see another human being. He got up, eyes glinting as he made his way over to the poor, unsuspecting creature.

“Welcome!” He didn’t quite give them a chance to respond, for immediately after that small greeting, he leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. The action shocked even himself, truthfully– but he was too cheerful to care.

I have lived forever in a smile. — e.e.cummings

Day Ninety-One

-A young girl realized that she had inadvertently been hiding an item while her mother had been attempting to empty her cart and announced, “Mom, I was sitting on a pair of socks! They were hiding in my butt hut!” Any child this eloquent is certain to make history.

-An elderly man walked into the store, stared at a three-foot statue of the Target dog Bullseye, and asked loudly of no one in particular, “Does this dog attack often?” He then carried on his way to go shopping, apparently not all that concerned with finding an answer.

-Upon placing two solitary cans of soup on the counter, I was told with no context, “Tonight, she’s learning the wonders of canned soup.” I eventually was given the backstory that the guest had an exchange student from Austria, where they apparently do not have canned soup, but I believe that we can all do to be reminded of these wonders sometimes.

-I am glad to see that the etiquette of returning one’s cart rather than abandoning it at the register has reached Austria. I am disappointed to see that it has still yet to reach my surrounding area.

-A baby said hi. I said hi. The baby told me I was cute. I ended the conversation there. I did not know how to tell the baby that I am a taken man.

-I rang up a man with one standard brown eye and one eye which appeared to have been made out of stainless steel, qualifying itself as an Eye Deluxe.

-A four year-old attempted to smuggle a Nutella snack tub into her father’s purchase. I tried to help her sneak it through, but we were sadly both found out before the mission could be completed.

Okay but like

Do you think Lydia forgot Stiles as soon as the Wild Hunt took him?

Or do you think she remembered him after he was taken?

How long do you think she sat in that jeep, clutching his keys in her palm and staring at the driver’s seat, willing herself not to forget the shade of his eyes or the pattern of his moles? Did she finally climb into that driver’s seat herself and drive home with her hands shaking? Did she park his jeep in her driveway and walk numbly up the stairs to her room? Did she slide her arms into the sleeves of a flannel shirt that he’d left there the last time he’d come over to do homework and try her best to memorize the way he smelled? Did she trace the outline of his hand on hers and stare at the wall for hours, willing herself not to go to sleep, willing herself not to forget? Did she whisper everything she could ever remember him saying to her, over and over again?

I’m the only one who knows how smart you really are. 

I think you look really beautiful when you cry. 

You’ve never been wrong about something like this before, so don’t start doubting yourself now. 

Remember I love you.

Did she accidentally fall asleep as night slid into morning, fists clenched into the flannel fabric as if that would safeguard against the impending memory loss? Did she wake up the next morning with a slight headache and a lot of confusion over the flannel shirt she was sleeping in? Did she wonder why she was dressed in something that clashed so horribly with the dress she had on underneath? Did she roll her eyes at herself for falling asleep in her dress in the first place? Did she glance out the window as she was picking out a new outfit and frown because her mom had parked in the street while there was still plenty of room in the driveway?

Did she pull up in the school parking lot and frown at the empty space next to her car? Did she find herself leaning to the right, as if a presence was missing at her side? Did she find herself formulating a snappy comeback to a remark no one had made? Did she find herself heading for a locker that wasn’t her own? Did she find herself nursing an ache that made no sense, questioning the absence of a person that didn’t exist?

Or did she double-check that she had all her homework, shrug off the feeling of forgetting, and walk through the school with her arm linked in Malia’s and no idea that Stiles Stilinski said she was so smart that he could kiss her?

Day Seventy

-I asked a man how he was doing. He replied, “I’m tired, and I don’t want to hear about you.” I appreciate someone who allows for no ambiguity in a conversation.

-A pair of elderly twins passed by me, dressed head to toe in identical outfits, making the same expressions at the same time. I am going to give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that they were on their way to the set of a horror film. That being said, I am prepared to run if I see them again.

-A child stared at me. I stuck my tongue out at her. She remained deadpan. I was relentless. Eventually, as she was rolled away, she stuck her tongue out in return. This is my biggest accomplishment of 2016.

-As a woman was leaving, I said, “Have a good day.” She shouted at me that she was trying to. I am so sorry to have gotten in the way of her goal in this way.

-I was caught in the midst of an argument between an elderly lady and her granddaughter. The grandmother, telling the granddaughter that by owning a laptop, television, and cell phone, she was addicted to electronics and would surely go to hell. The daughter, unsure how on earth to respond to this. The cashier, furiously scribbling notes on every word exchanged. I am sure that this woman’s grandparents told her the same thing in regards to her stick and hoop and her sundial.

-An elderly man pulled his shirt up to his sternum. His reasons are unclear. His results, showing off his lacy black thong and unsettlingly hairless stomach.

-I was asked by a woman if we had been busy. I told her that we had been. She told me we would get busier. This is precisely the sort of motivation I was looking for today.

-A mother breastfed her child in my lane. No sins were committed. No children were corrupted. No boys became sexual deviants. A baby was fed. It is almost as if this were a natural occurrence and not a terrible act of debauchery. What a strange thing.

-A man bought a high-end breast pump alongside a Christmas card written to a grandfather. He specified that he would like them bagged together as they were going to the same person. I would very much like to meet them.

-Today I was told that Satan was going to crack open the Earth and swallow me up and that Hell would then split open after I suggested that while Christmas was important to Christians, other holidays and religions existed. I feel honored. I am sure this is not something Satan does for just anyone.

Misery Needs Company

it sounded like @copperbadge was having One of Those Weekends, so i asked if he’d like some fic and he requested someone with a headache getting coddled

feel better!

“Tony!” Pepper calls and he flinches.

A headache going on day three is sitting like a pulsating rock in his frontal lobe and the pitch of her voice is enough to send a needle point of pain inward.

Pepper pauses, looks at him for five seconds, and then says, voice lowered, “When did it start?”

“On the way home from NBC?” Tony tries because he honestly isn’t sure.

Pepper stares at him. “That was two days ago.”

“Yeah,” Tony sighs.

Tony,” she says, sounding appalled.

“What?” he replies defensively. “I’ve gotten six hours of sleep the last four nights, I’ve eaten regularly, I’ve only had like four cups of coffee per day, and I haven’t gone over the recommended dose of over-the-counter painkillers even though I know you can go over that and be fine!”

“Tony, that wasn’t criticism,” Pepper says, her expression sympathetic and her hand light on his arm.

“Oh,” Tony says, and deflates. “I’m tired and I’ve been sleeping,” he whines. “How is that fair?”

“It’s not.” She nudges him forward gently and Tony moves as directed, reaching up to dig his knuckles into his forehead. If he presses hard enough, it briefly dulls the pain. “Come on. We’re done for today.”

Tony should protest. There’s still a lot to do. But it feels good to have someone take the reins and he doesn’t have it in him to fight when he wants to do what she says so badly.

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2

Lord of Shadows snippet:

Jemma Blackstairs art by the wonderful CASSANDRA JEAN and for M & R

“It can’t last,” Emma said, staring at him, because how could it, when they could never keep what they had? “It’ll break our hearts.”

He caught her by the wrist, brought her hand to his chest. Splayed her fingers over his heart. It beat against her palm, like a fist punching its way out of his ribcage. “Break my heart,” he said. “Break it in pieces. I give you permission.”

Sharing is Caring - Smut - [dumbass-stilinski]

Originally posted by stvlinski

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Words:
AN: So @obrosey-af and I wanted to write the same idea so we decided to do it together, please make your way over to her blog, give her a follow (if you aren’t already, shame on you), and check out her fic too! xoxoxox



You were woken up at 4 in the morning when you heard your boyfriend groaning next to you. You laid awake for a moment, staring at the wall in front of you, listening to see if he was alright. He huffed, turning over, his legs sliding around on the sheets as he fought to get comfortable. Your eyes were beginning to slide shut again when you heard him growl, the sound of the covers being thrown off following close behind.

“Stiles?” You mumbled, turning around to peek at him. He was on his back, his eyes wide open as he stared at the ceiling.

“I’m hot. Sorry, did I wake you?”

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All of You (I Want All of You) | (Part 2) | (Part 3)

Daryl x Reader Smut Warning! 18+ Only! NSFW

A/N: This was a request, hope I get it right. :) My first post-negan era smut piece. Daryl is in the Sanctuary still and is approached by Negan’s daughter (Reader), she takes a liking to him and smut ensues. I didn’t get to the ‘Negan doesn’t approve’ part of the request, may have to make a second part if people like it.

—–

Y/N hated it here. All the men constantly eye fucking her and making lude jokes when he wasn’t around and all the women disgusted by her because she was his daughter. Not like you had any choice in the matter, if you had had a choice you would rather be out on your own taking your chances with the dead. You claw a little at your bedroom window, high above the sanctuary, staring jealously at the staggering walkers you see clawing their way toward the Sanctuary’s gate. One of your father’s men put it down immediately. You sigh in dissatisfaction and close the white lace curtain over the frame again and plop down on your bed.

I am so fucking bored. You say to yourself and begin to play absentmindedly with your hands. Suddenly your door slams open and your father makes his presence known.

“Y/N, I thought I told you I wanted to have dinner with you tonight? Get your ass over to the dining room.” Negan gruffly cried out, the vein in his neck popping from your disobedience. You roll your eyes and sit back up.

“Sorry, dad. I lost track of time.” You huff and walk out the door in front of him and head down the hallway to the small dining room his men had set up for us. You sit down at the four post wooden table and notice that the meal is already laid out for both of you, complete with placemats, utensils lined up on the right side, wine glasses, and a bowl of some sort of soup, still steaming with heat.

“What the fuck is this a five-star restaurant?” You scoff and slump down into the chair, disrespectfully.

You father sits down on the opposite side of the table, smiling to himself at the scene. His demeanor changes slightly at your words, “You’d do well to remember how good you have it Y/N.” He growled with a hint of anger.

“Oh yeah. How fucking good I have it.” You roll your eyes and begin to slurp your soup, you can taste corn, tomatoes, and green beans, as the hot liquid slides down your throat.

One of Negan’s men saunters into the room with a bottle of wine, ready to pour into both of your glasses. You allow him to fill your glass, after he pops the cork, you nod in appreciation. Alcohol was one of the only things that got your through with these assholes some days.

The man walks over to fill Negan’s glass and he looks up at the servant, covering his glass with his hand.

“Timothy, fucking tell me this is the merlot and not that fake grape shit again.” He glares at the man.

The man steps back a little, with fear in his eyes, looking again at the bottle, “Yes, sir.”

Negan removes his hand and nods, in a gesture to the man to continue. With now shaky hands the man pours Negan a glass, setting the bottle on the table.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” The man picks a point on the wall behind you both to fixate on as he speaks, with his arms militantly behind his back.

“No.” Negan replies shortly. The man nods once and turns to walk out of the room.

“Jesus, Dad.” You say, chuckling a little to yourself at what a dick he could be sometimes.

“What?” Negan replies, looking at her with laughter in his eye.

You laugh a little to yourself as you lift the bowl in front of you and gulp down the remaining liquid, wiping your hand across your face after you were done. You lift the glass of wine to your lips and sip on the liquid, watching as your father hungrily finishes his own dinner, and takes a sip of his own red elixir.

“So…” Negan begins, swirling the red liquid around in his glass.

Here we go. You thought and tensed up a little, taking a big swig of your drink this time.

“Have you thought anymore about what we discussed the other day?” He asked.

You grimaced a little and sighed heavily. As if it wasn’t bad enough being stuck in this post-apocalyptic world with a bunch of these losers, your dad now continued to insist you pick one for your own. You were a grown ass woman and here he is treating you like a teenager, asking you continuously if you had a boyfriend yet. You took another big gulp, nearly finishing your glass off, and stared your father down.

“What makes you think I would ever want to date one of your servants? None of them have any balls, they are all just a bunch of whining bastards that hide behind you. I want a real man and there doesn’t seem to be any around here.” You finish off your glass and slump back in your chair with your arms folded.

Negan sighed, “I know they aren’t much to pick from Y/N, but I want to know that you are protected when I’m gone or if something happens to me.” He says his voice softening, which didn’t happen much these days.

You relax your arms a little at his concern, “I know you are worried, dad. But I’m going to be okay all on my own.” Even before the world went to shit your dad was always worried about you, you didn’t date much, mostly because you were picky af and no one ever really measured up to your standards.

“Besides some whiny bitch boy isn’t going to be able to protect me anyway.” You scoff making Negan laugh out loud and lighten up again, that was the strong-willed daughter he knew and loved.

He took another swig of his wine and giggled a little.

“I’m just sayin… Fuck Y/N, we own this place and these people, you could have anyone you wanted, take your fucking pick.” He finishes the conversation there and gulps down the rest of his glass.

“When I find a man worthy of me, I’ll let you know. But don’t hold your breath.” You say toughly with a side smirk, something you definitely had gotten from the man sitting in front of you.

He chuckled again, nodding his head, while looking down.

You sigh a little, debating whether or not to have another glass of wine. Wine wasn’t your favorite, but you loved to feel the rush of the alcohol as it moved through you.

“Wish I could get a really fucking drink!” You say loudly, cocking your head to the side, looking at the doorway where the servant had entered before, nothing.

Negan sighed and nodded, he took a pair of keys out of his pocket and throw them across the table, they landed next to you with a thud.

“Go ahead. Take those down to the kitchen, I know we scavenged some good shit last week, take what you want Y/N.” He got up, not bothering to pick up any dishes, knowing that would be taken care of for him. He walked over to you and gave you a tussle on the top of your head.

“I’m fucking exhausted. I’m going to bed. Have a good night Y/N.” You smiled a little up at him and nodded. He walked over to the doorway before stopping at the frame and glancing back.

“Oh. And thanks for having dinner with your old man.” He smirks a little and heads out the door.

You grab the keys into your hands and get up out of your seat. Timothy waited until you were both out of the room to come back in and clean everything up.

You slide your hand along the concrete walls absentmindedly as your fingers traced them, room after room. You made your way down the stairs from the tower where you and your father’s rooms were, to the main floor where all the servants beds were huddled together like this was fucking sleepaway camp, you scoff a little at their cowardice. Heaven forbid they had to actually stand on their own two feet. You thought angrily, but pushed it out of your mind. You tried to never spend too much time thinking about them.

Your fingertips grazed down the long metal railing as your feet hit a long descending stairway into the basement. Your feet tapped along the hard cement floor as you walked off the stairs and turned right down the next hallway. You could see the four cell doors that were in front of you, on the left-hand side. You traced these metal doors, wondering who was in them. Poor bastards. You thought, wincing a little. You loved your father but you had never agreed with his tactics, not that you had a choice in the matter.

You lightly touch each door, silently hoping they were empty, but knowing in your gut that probably wasn’t true. After you pass the cell doors you take right and walk down another long hallway, until you reach the giant double doors of the dining room, which lead into the huge kitchen. You notice the padlock on the doors is unlocked and the chain is hanging to the side. Someone must be in here. You thought to yourself, confused as it was late and most people were already asleep.

You pull the doors open with dominance and walk into the room with authority, scanning for whoever was in the room. Your eyes scan the dining room tables, nothing, then in the corner of the room, behind the tables, you spot Dwight and another man dressed in a crappy white sweatshirt and matching sweats. Dwight is standing over this man, with folded arms and demeaning eyes. The man has his head low and a bunch of his hair in his face, as he mops up and cleans the floor of the mess hall.

Dwight’s head snaps over in your direction when he hears the you walk in, he smiles cockily. The other man does not look up and just continues about his task, walking over to push the mop back into the yellow bucket beside him.

“Hey there, Y/N.” Dwight says, licking his lips and looking you up and down.

Pig. You thought to yourself, folding your arms over your plain white t-shirt, that clung to your body.

“Dwight.” You say stoically, before walking over to the kitchen. You disappear behind the kitchen doors and start looking for the boxes your father had said were down here. You smile as you see what you came for, a bottle of half way decent vodka, your favorite. You grab a glass out of the cupboard and pour yourself a shot, downing it quickly and pouring another. You watch out the windows of the kitchen doors as Dwight stands over the man with dominance, spitting something hateful at him. You took another shot, grabbed the bottle and went back out into the dining room and sat on a table a couple of feet away from the man.

“Jesus, Dwight, can’t the man do his job without you whining at him like a little piss ant?” You laugh a little at yourself, and sip on your drink again. The best part about being Negan’s daughter is you could say whatever the fuck you wanted to whoever you wanted, and you really hated Dwight. Always acting like he was some kind of a God, when everyone knew he’s be the first to bend over to save his own ass.

Dwight says nothing for a moment and then walks over to you, putting his hands on the table you are sitting on, so that both hands are on either side of your cross-legged body. You just glared back at him, which made him chuckle a little.

“So, word is that your daddy is looking for someone to own you darlin.” He says coyly. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to flirt or just being creepy af, you decided probably both.

You kick your feet out and knock one of his hands off the table.

“That’s none of yours.” You say flatly.

“Well, what if I wanted to be this ‘someone,’ he teased, leaning closer still.

You scoff at this, “In your wet dreams Dwight.” You spat back at him.

“Why not?” He asked curiously. You knew he would never lay a hand on you without permission, so you were free to say whatever the fuck you wanted.

You took another swig from your glass and laughed a little.

“Really? ‘Why Not’? Well for starters I’m looking for a real man, someone who won’t bend over the minute my fucking father snaps his fingers. You are just like all the rest of them, except the size of your ego. But really, man?” You flick the vest he is wearing, flicking him on the side of his chest.

“Fuck, you can’t even live your life without stealing whatever someone else has. You think it is sexy to watch you walk around wishing you were someone else? I know who you stole this from, you’re pathetic.” You scoff at him. You had heard all the stories about a man named Daryl, the people from Alexandria, and Dwight’s run-ins with this mysterious figure. You had never met him, but he sounded like he was kickass and didn’t deserve Dwight’s wrath or humiliation tactics, hell no one did.

“I would never want a man like you.” You glare at him again, “Now, will you get the fuck out of here so I can enjoy my night?” You command him and he stands back up and begins to walk back over to the man with the mop.

“Come on, time to go back to your cage.” Dwight says and roughly grabs the man, who says nothing and allows himself to be whipped around.

“I said you get the fuck out of here. I’m a big girl, I can return him to his cell when he’s finished with his fucking job. He ain’t bothering me like you are and last I checked Negan doesn’t like when work goes unfinished.” Dwight sighed a little and looked away, as if you’d just kicked him in the balls. He says nothing more to the man or you and turns to walk out of the room.

“Shut the doors on your way out.” You command again.

Dwight walks to the doors and mumbles something, sounded like, “Bitch,” before slamming the doors shut behind him.

“Fucking Asshole.” You say out loud to yourself, pouring yourself another glass of liquid before setting the bottle back down beside you.

As your adrenaline subsides you remember suddenly that you are not alone in the room. You glance sideways to see the mystery man back to his task of mopping, his head still firmly fixed at the floor.

“Sorry about his shit.” You say lightly, the man does not respond, continuing to push the mop around in long strides. You notice how muscular he is, even under that god awful sweat suit. Your eyes take him in, he looked like he had been beaten several times over and was dirtier than you had ever seen someone, dirt clinging and crusting to his face and his hair, that fell over his silent eyes. Poor guy. You thought to yourself sadly.

You suddenly kicked your feet out from under you and scooted off the table, your feet slamming the concrete floor harshly. You walk over into the kitchen for a moment, not noticing the man’s eyes curiously on you for the first time. You re-emerge from the double doors with another glass in your hand. You walk over to the table that has your drink, grabbing your glass and the bottle before walking over to the table closest to the man. You pull two chairs out and slam both glasses down in front of each respective chair, that sit across from one another. You point to one of the chairs.

“Sit.” You commanded, but in a softer tone than you had used with Dwight.

His head slowly looked up, confusion in his eyes. He says nothing, but obeys.

You stand over him and begin to pour each of you a glass.

“I think you’ve earned a break.” You say with a sideways smile, before taking a seat in front of him, your back to the doors.

The man looks at the glass filled with liquid and does not touch it.

“Oh jesus, fuck.” You say, grabbing his glass and taking a swig, “I’m not here to poison you.” You laugh a little, harshly, and return his glass to him.

The man slowly takes the glass, using both of his big, rough hands to pull it to his lips for a small gulp. He winces a little as the alcohol hit a cut on his lower lip. You notice this and also notice all the cuts and bruising around his knuckles.

“Jesus, fuck. What the hell are they doing to you down here?” You ask angrily, more to yourself, as the man doesn’t seem to say anything. You shake your head in anger.

“I swear to fuckin god…” You say to yourself and walk back towards the kitchen. You fill up a small bucket of soapy water and grab a couple of towels. The mystery man takes another couple of swigs of his drink, happy to be drinking something other than dirt water.

You walk back over to the man, slide your chair out of the way and slide the table away, leaving your drinks on the wooden surface. You kneel down in front of the man, who sits in the chair more tense than ever.  You push one of the towels into the clean soapy water, and pull it out, wringing it in your hands a few times. You kneel up with the towel in your hand, he stares at you, trying not to show any emotion.

“My name is Y/N. I’m just going to clean you up a little okay?” You say with compassion in your eyes.

The man nodded a little and looked down, sadly.

You softly raise your hand up to brush the hair away from his eyes and notice his left eye is red and bruised from a beating, you guessed. You winced a little as your traced your fingers over it.

“Savages.” You mutter to yourself, making the man look sideways at you.

You begin to caress the warm wet towel over his forehead and over the inflicted eye, he growled a little at the pain.

“Sorry.” You say and continue down his face to run the fabric across his cheek, down his jaw, up to his other cheek, up to his other eye, down his nose, and finish by wiping all the dirt and blood off of his lips. He again growls when you hit the cut on his lip. You bend down and shove the towel back into the water, and wring it out again, you kneel back up and gently rub all the dirt and grime off of his neck, starting with the sides, moving to the back of his neck, and coming to the front, as you slowly use your other hand to push his head up so that you can clean the front of him. You slowly drudge the fabric up and down him and he moans out a little in pleasure. It felt so good to him to finally be rid of the dirt and grime he had had building up for weeks since they brought him here.

“There.” You say satisfied, with a little smile on your face, again removing the hair from his face and tucking it behind his ear. “And look, you can see those beautiful eyes now!” You smile proudly and bite your lip a little at your slip, the man didn’t seem to notice.

His eyes are softer now when he looks at you, but he still remains silent. You scoff a little.

“You are a quiet one, aren’t you?” You say out loud, still kneeling down by his side.

“At least tell me your name.” You said, starting to get a little irritated, you had little patience.

“Daryl.” He offered shortly and your eyes snapped up in surprise.

“Daryl? The Daryl?” You say, suddenly feeling like you were meeting your favorite superhero.

He scoffs a little as he allows his face to relax into a small smile and nods.

“Holy shit. You’re the stuff of legends around here.” You say laughing to yourself as you get back up and kick the bucket away. You pull the table over so that it is a few feet away from the man’s chair and hop back up onto the table, grabbing his glass and handing it to him, you grab yours as well.

You hold your glass out to him, in a gesture, he reaches out and clinks your glass.

“Man, I can’t believe I am meeting you! I was sure my father was going to kill you.” You say sadly looking at the ground. “But, if you’re still alive… He must have something big planned for you.” You say smiling a little, earning an angry growl from the man.

“I ain’t nobody’s bitch.” He says lowly and slams the liquid down his throat, reaching the empty glass out to you, gesturing he wanted more. You oblige, turning to grab the bottle behind you.

You turn back looking up at him through low eyes for a moment before filling the glass.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I just mean it probably means he will keep you alive.” You say apologetically, filling the glass.

He looks at you, his eyes opening to you more with every second. “If you call this living.” He scoffs and gulps down the liquid again.

“I’d give anything to be out there.” You gesture to the world beyond those walls. “I’d rather take my chances alone in the woods than be stuck here with these assholes.” You scoff, earning you another look of confusion from the man.

“Out there ain’t a place for a girl like you.” The man called Daryl says, in a serious tone.

“A girl like me?” You ask playfully.

He glares up at you, “You’ve probably been behind these walls so long you wouldn’t know how to protect yourself, too used to everyone taking care of you.” He says a little angrily, taking you aback a little, he was not wrong.

“So, who takes care of you?” You ask curiously and his head snaps up at you again.

“No one takes care of me. I’m my own man.” He says glaring into your eyes.

Yes, you are. You thought to yourself as you allowed your gaze to run over this man you had heard so much about.

You lick your lips a little, feeling something you had not felt in a long time, longing. You remember the moments where your fingers caressed his face and his lips, you lean forward a little lost in your own thoughts.

Daryl stares at you seriously, awaiting your response.

“I could take care of you.” You say slowly and boldly.

“What?” He asks, he seriously had no fucking clue what was happening.

You slowly stand up from the table and walk over to him, sitting down on his lap, straddling him with both hands. You look playfully into his eyes, brushing his hair away to see more clearly into them. He sits there in shock, watching you intently. He wasn’t sure what kind of game this was.

You notice as  stiffens under you, as you sit on him and smile.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you, Daryl. In fact, I want to do my part to help you feel better.” You say before softly kissing his battered left eye. Daryl flinches his face away in reaction, before looking back again at you, his head as far back as it can go, looking at you angrily.

“Girl, what are you doin?!” He commands, staring intently into your eyes.

You smile and softly run your hands up and down the sides of his face, he was so beautiful, even covered in bruises and scratches.  You trace the hurt areas of his face slowly.

“I told you. I just want to make you feel better.” You say before pulling his face back to yours. You kiss him softly again on the eye, his forehead, down his cheek, before reaching his mouth. You look up at him and see that he is watching you intently, still confused, but his eyes softening, as did his tense reaction, you feel his body lean a little closer into you as you watch him. You smile into his eyes and then look back at his lips, you slowly kiss his lower lip, kissing the cut on it ever so lightly. You feel the man growl into your lips. You lick along his lips, grazing your tongue across his upper lip, trying to get him to allow you access.

You hear another, deeper growl and his lips begin to part. You slowly slide your tongue into his mouth and suck on his tongue, you feel him put his hands on you, resting on your sides. You moan a little at his touch, you forgot how good that felt. You being to swirl your tongue around his, slowly at first, and then picking up the pace, he pulls you slowly into him, willfully starting to kiss you back, swirling his tongue gently around yours. He moans into your mouth and you feel yourself getting wet just by the sound of him. You gently swirl your tongues around and around, it becomes more passionate with each second. You break away from his mouth and begin to kiss down his newly washed neck, first in the front, as he lifts his head in pleasure, and then making your way around to the side of his neck, devouring his skin with your mouth. You lick and suck up his neck and just under his ear, you nibble the sensitive area and feel him writhe underneath you.

You detach your mouth again and lean back in his lap to look at him. His eyes were glowing with lust as he looked you up and down, still a little confused by just what was happening. He looks over at the double doors that you had both came through and then back at you.

“Don’t worry. Everyone’s asleep.” You reassure him, taking one of his hands from your side and using your own hand to guide it up to your awaiting breast. You lean your head back and cry out a little as you use his hand to pleasure you.

“That feels so good.” You cry out to yourself and his hand begins to do the work on his own, gently massaging you over your bra. He begins to get braver and tries to shove his hand underneath your bra, under your shirt.

“Mmmm” He moans to himself as he feels your rock hard nipple under his hand, he massages and pinches it a few times, watching in pleasure as you moan to yourself.

You pull his hand away from you, dropping it back to his side.

“No, no, honey. This is all about you right now.” You moan, feeling yourself getting wetter by the moment, all you wanted was him all over you, but you wanted to make him feel better.

You get off of his lap and pull him up off of his chair, so that you are both standing facing each other, you look at his broad chest and shoulders and begin to caress your arms up and down them, first his shoulders, and then down his chest, until your hands reach the waistline of his sweatpants. You look down in between you and can see he is already so hard, you cup his cock from outside his pants and he cries out a little.

“Fuck.” He moans in reaction. You smile and reach your hands back up to his waistline. Ever so slowly you begin to pull down his pants, you kneeling down to the floor as the fabric does the same. You pull the pants down past his hips allowing his hard cock to spring free, you moan a little at the sight of how big he is and continue to pull his pants down, until they are resting on the floor at his ankles.

You kneel down in front of his cock and look up at him. He is staring at you with raw desire.

“I’m going to make you feel so good.” You moan and graze your hand down your own breast for a moment before focusing on the task at hand.

You lick your lips and slowly lick your way up and down his long shaft.

“Oh yeah.” He cries out to himself softly.

You continue to lick up and down, and come up to his head and swirl your tongue lightly around it, earning you another moan. You pull away just for a second, long enough for him to snap his head down at the loss of contact. You giggle a little before shoving him into your mouth, long and hard.

“Fuck yeah!” He cries out and you begin to bob your head up and down onto his hot cock, over and over. Tasting him already, you swirl your tongue around his tip again a few more times, before continuing to shove his cock down your throat.

Suddenly, you feel him pull your head back by the hair, you moan in pleasure. You look up at him and he is licking his lips, fucking you with his eyes. He pulls you up by your shoulders, until you are standing again facing him. He doesn’t say a word, but continues to fuck you with his eyes. 

He grabs your arms and shoots them up into the air, you comply with a smile, he rips your t-shirt off and his hands go to your back, where he caresses you softly a few times before unclasping your bra. You took your hands down and slowly dipped out of each strap, before letting it fall to the floor. He stands back a little to take you in, he smiles and begins to kiss your neck.

“So sexy.” He says softly into you as he ravages your neck with his mouth. He licks the side of your neck up and down before crashing his lips onto you, behind your ear, he sucks and licks harshly now, with more need, as his hands come up to caress both of your bare breasts, his hard cock pushing against your denim jeans, glistening a little. You reach over and pull at his shirt, trying to tug it up, while he has his hands on you, you moan frustrated. He chuckles noticing your futile efforts. He removes his hands from you for a moment before pulling the shirt off of himself in one quick motion. You bite your lip and smile in appreciation as you notice his large frame in all its glory. Those fucking arms. You thought to yourself, even more turned on than before.  

He strides back into you, pushing your ass into the table behind you. He crashes his lips back onto yours and sucks and swirls on them with urgency.

“Let’s get these off.” He says, breaking the kiss, to look down at your pants. His hands easily unbutton them, you feel the zipper descend, and feel his rough hands yank and pull your pants down, as he leans down with the fabric to set you free. You help him and step out of your jeans leaving you only in your panties. He stands back up and stares at your pussy through the fabric, you have already soaked through them.

“Damn.” He mutters staring at your pussy in admiration. He slowly reaches his hand out to touch you, he slightly slides his fingers up and down your folds through the fabric, making you cry out and arch your hips.

“Yeah, baby!” You cry, as he makes his way up to encircle your clit with his fingers. His fingers are already wet from your juices and he growls a little, as he slowly moves the fabric aside and teases your folds again. You arch into him over and over, with your head back and eyes closed, trying to feel every moment purely.

He slowly slides one of his fingers into you and you arch hard into it.

“Fuck yeah!” You scream and he shoves another one in, slowly pumping into you with his hand. You cry out again, this time snapping your head back to face him, you want to feel him, you pull his shoulders closer and start to devour his mouth again, harshly kissing into him, as he pumps into you.

You look at him with passion, breaking the kiss.

“I want you. I want all of you.” You say breathlessly, staring at him with pleading eyes.

He smirks a little and nods in agreement. He removes his hand and shoves your panties down to the ground, you kick them off alongside your pants. He pushes you back into the table and suddenly lifts you up by your ass and slams you onto the table.

He grabs your ass with both hands, on either side of you. You love feeling his rough touch on your skin. You cry out his name into his neck, wrapping him around you again.

“Daryl. I’m ready for you, please! I want you inside me!” You command.

He takes his rough hands off your ass and grabs your legs, wrapping them around his waist. He kisses you passionately once more before looking down to align his cock with your awaiting pussy. He slowly pushes himself into you and you moan in pleasure, he was so fucking big inside your tight pussy.

“Oh My God! Yes!” You scream in pleasure, as he pumps into you again a few more times, painstakingly slow.

“Oh Daryl. Yes. Harder!” You scream and he begins to pump into you faster and harder. You arch into him with your hips, finding his rhythm, until you are both slamming against each other. He thrusts into you long and hard and with each thrust he hits your clit.

“Fuck yeah!” He cries out and grabs your ass harder, trying to pull you as close into him as possible. You slam against each other over and over, long and hard, and you can hear the table legs slide and groan underneath you two, as it tries uphold you.

“Harder baby, yeah!” You moan as he begins to fuck you as hard as you have ever been fucked, he thrusts into you longer and faster, slamming into your clit over and over, faster and faster.

Suddenly you can feel yourself nearly there.

“Right there baby, faster! I’m going to cum!” You cry out and he thrusts into you faster and shorter, hitting the same spot you had told him felt so good. Faster and faster he slams into you, until you cry out in pleasure.

“Fuck! I’m cumming! Fuck yes!!” You scream as you slam your hips back into his over and over, cumming all over his cock.

You feel him slamming into you hard and fast as you continue to cum around him. A few more long thrusts inside of you and you feel him explode inside you.

“Fuck yes!!” He cries out, throwing his head back as he cums inside you. He thrusts into you a few more times, earning him a moan of pleasure from your mouth, before pulling himself out of you and leaning against your neck, exhausted.

You are both covered in sweat and breathing heavily as you hold each other up. He wraps his arms around you, while trying to regain his breath. You do the same, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, listening to your heart pounding in your ears.

“Damn.” He mutters into you and you smile.

Once your breathing returns to normal you pull yourself up and look into his satisfied eyes. You kiss his forehead lightly and look into him again.

“Thank you.” You say, not realizing how long it had been since you had been pleasured, and even then nothing compared to this.

He scoffs a little and leans up to kiss your neck.

“Thank me?” He says jokingly.

“Shit girl, thank you!” He says smiling a full smile, the first one you had seen, it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

He stands back up and looks at his sweat suit on the floor with disgust, he knew he had to put it back on, but it was the last fucking thing he wanted to wear.

You look at him and anger returns to your being. You hated how this amazing man was being treated.

You stand up and reluctantly begin getting dressed yourself as Daryl disappointingly returned to his attire.

When you were fully dressed you walk over to him and put your hand on his chest, looking up into his eyes.

“I will get you your shit back.” You say matter-of-factly and continue, “And I will find a way to get you out of that fucking cell.”

“You can bet on it.” You finish before taking his lips longingly back into yours for as long as you could before you knew you’d have to lock him away again. It was going to be dawn soon, but you would savor him for as long as you could for now…

one of my favorite headcanons is the boys getting hella protective of el

like can you imagine one day dustin and el are just chillin and someone yells something at her and dustin just grabs her arms and directs her the other way, all the while muttering something about ‘kicking their ass’

or when they’re older and lucas and el are just hanging out and someone catcalls her (huge mistake) and the way lucas glares at the other guy makes even el nervous and she gently mutters 'just forget him’ as lucas grits his teeth because how dare they dehumanize his best friend in such a humiliating way

or when mike and el are going somewhere at night and some drunkard comes even remotely close to el and suddenly mike finds himself launching at the man and CRACK there goes the guys nose

even will, being the precious coconut head he his, just holding her hand when she feels out of place or nervous on her first visit to the doctor and making sure that people dont mistreat her or stare at her

i just love all of their friendship so much

no guarantees

When the knock falls on his door in the middle of the afternoon, Chowder is so grateful for the distraction from his homework he could cry.

He gets up, opens the door, and smiles–it’s Farmer, and she has a cardboard tray with two carry-out cups from Annie’s in her left hand. Kissing her briefly in greeting, he grabs one of the coffee cups. (It doesn’t matter which he takes, since they both drink it the same way anyway-no cream, two sugars.)

“You just saved my life, Cait,” Chowder informs her, sitting back down in his chair as she sits cross-legged on the bed. “I’m pretty sure another two minutes of staring at this screen and I’d, like, snap. Like those people on the news who are just, you know, postal workers or whatever, but then one day out of nowhere they try to stab a nun or something.”

Farmer raises an eyebrow. “That bad, huh?”

Keep reading

Covers

Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: none, really. Some fluff, some dark Steve

Words: 2.4k

All credit goes to Marvel

Originally posted by luvinchris

Steve flipped the picture in his hands over and over, looking at the picture itself, then the date on the back of it. September 29th, 2016. The date seemed so long ago. He stared at the picture a little longer. He committed every small detail of it to memory; the way her hair flowed with the wind, her radiant smile, her eyes. Oh god, her eyes, he thought. He bit his lip, carefully folding the picture back into his wallet. How was he supposed to live on like this? Without her?


“Dad, I don’t know if this is a good idea. At least not yet.” You pleaded with your father. Nick Fury sat at the table across from you, elbows up on the table.

“You are the only option right now, Y/N. Everyone on the team is down and we need you.” Nick said affirmatively. You knew that tone of voice. That tone of voice meant you weren’t getting out of this. “All you have to do is make sure that James Buchanan Barnes is stable and true to the Avengers Initiative. We don’t need any more HYDRA in this world and he has some pretty strong ties to them.” You looked at your dad, Agent Phil Coulson of S.H.I.E.L.D.

“It’ll take two weeks tops. Maybe one depending on what you see. I promise you won’t be in there for longer than you have to.” He put his hand over yours reassuringly and you took a deep breath. Fury slid over the steel briefcase and you opened it, surveying the photostatic veil in front of you. “Wearing this at all times is necessary. The Avengers already know you as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. If they suspect that one of us is spying on one of them, the mission is compromised and there’s no telling what will happen. As we all know, Steve Rogers is a bit of a loose cannon when it comes to Bucky Barnes. We can’t risk him hurting you if he finds out what you’re up to.”

“Right, so who am I, again?” You asked. Your nerves were on fire with anxiety, whether it was good anxiety or bad anxiety, you weren’t sure. You squeezed your dad’s hand a little tighter.

“You’re Marie Laveau, Stark’s new assistant. He knows why you’re there, but he doesn’t know who you really are. He doesn’t trust Barnes either. He’ll show you everything and give you the inside briefing. You’re from San Antonio, moved here when you were nine years old to live with your aunt after your parents were killed in a deadly gambling ring. You won’t be there long, so you don’t need much more information, and if they ask, I trust you won’t blow your cover. Now come on, I’ll bring you to the tower. You can put your face on in the car.” Nick stood up, gesturing for you to follow. You and your dad stood up, too. You gave him a hug and grabbed the briefcase before following Fury.

“Tell May I bought more celery for her breakfast shakes!” You called. Your dad smiled and nodded as you sat down in the passenger seat of Nick’s car.

“You know, you didn’t have to cut and dye your hair.” He said, pulling out of the restaurant parking lot.

“Oh, I didn’t,” you pulled off your jet black wig, exposing your natural hair underneath it. “You’re not the only one who thought disguise.” You saw him crack a (rare) smile.

“So I guess spending the entirety of your life training you to be a spy didn’t go to waste, huh?”

“Well, I had some pretty good teachers.”


“You’re doing this at the right time,” Tony began. “Barnes is just starting to warm up to everyone, but he’s still slightly reserved. I feel like he’s keeping something from us, something from Steve. Oh, here’s Diana’s room. You’ll be staying here.” He gestured to the room you would be staying and you felt instantly relaxed by looking around.

“Thanks, Tony.” you said sincerely. You gave him a grateful smile and he nodded, putting your luggage on the queen-sized bed.

“No, thank you. I need to keep my team together. But I need to trust Barnes before I do that,” You nodded understandingly. “Dinner’s at five, so you have time to wash up or get situated or whatever you needed to do.” With that, he gave you a tight smile before leaving, shutting your door behind him. You pressed your hands against your mattress, welcoming the familiar softness of it, and you hung your head. It’s gonna be a long two weeks, you thought.


When you came down for dinner that night, you sat at the long bar table with a piece of pizza in front of you and a knife and fork in hand. “You’re the only person I know, besides Diana, that eats pizza like that.” Nat remarked. Steve’s head popped up to look at you and then your hands, still holding the silverware. He looked at you skeptically in a way that made your skin crawl.

“I don’t like getting pizza grease on my fingers.” You shrugged and crinkled your nose. Nat nodded and went back to eating her slice, but Steve’s eyes lingered on you for just a bit longer and you averted your gaze back to your pizza, busying yourself with cutting into it and taking a bite.

Bucky came over and plopped down next to Steve, grabbing himself a slice of buffalo chicken pizza and nearly shoving the entire thing in his mouth. Steve whispered something in Bucky’s ears and you saw Bucky glance at you in the corner of your eyes. You picked at your lip and felt your cheeks heat up, and you were thankful that the photo-static veil wouldn’t show it. Steve stood up, throwing his now-empty plate away before excusing himself. You watched as he stalked out of the room. Bucky came over and sat down by you.

“Don’t take it personal, you just remind him a lot about Diana. Everybody here’s still upset that she’s gone and they don’t like to talk about it, but I know a lot about her from her file and what Steve’s told me. Walk with me, I’ll tell you everything you need to know.” Bucky looked into your eyes and you could tell he was serious. You finished your piece and threw your plate away, instantly going to follow the brunet who was already halfway out the door.


“Diana was great. She was sweet, but wouldn’t hesitate to bring one of us to the floor if she didn’t like what someone was doing. She was incredibly intelligent, easily beating out Clint and Natasha in almost any subject. She was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, but they called her an ‘Honorary Avenger’ because she went on a lot of missions with them. That’s how her and Steve got close and how they started dating. They were never public about their relationship though, they thought people would use them against each other, making them vulnerable. They loved each other too much that they’d pick each other’s lives to save over their own.”

“Sounds dangerous, to say the least. What happened to her?” You kicked at a rock as you and Bucky walked back to the tower, now with two cups of hot chocolate.

“She was presumed dead after an Extremis blew up in a bar. She was trying to save this kid, Harley, I think. He was real special to Tony, but Tony was down for the count when Harley ran into the bar, trying to save some file. Tony begged and yelled after Harley not to go in, but it was too late. The building burst into flames and Diana ran in, diving under beams and structures that had fallen over. She pushed Harley out, but one of the rafters fell on top of her, and they couldn’t get to her in time. They never found her, all the bodies were too charred to be recognizable. Not even dental records could help.”

“Steve hasn’t been the same since?”

“No, but can you blame him? Captain America losing the love of his life? He was almost mad when Pepper was the one to kill Aldrich Killian, the guy who created it. Steve wanted to do it himself.” You guys stopped walking when you reached the steps to the common room. “I guess I credit her with being why I joined the Avengers. The punk’s lost so much in life that he needs someone who understands. I just want him to be happy, that’s what we all want. So it makes more sense for me to be on his side instead of an enemy, doing the right thing for once instead of being some brainwashed psychopath killer.”

You threw your empty hot chocolate cup into the trashcan and shoved your hands in your pockets. “I appreciate you telling me all of this now so I don’t make an ignorant remark later. I don’t want to upset him.” You said. Bucky nodded, pressing his lips together. He opened the door for you and you stepped inside. Your eyes instantly landed on Steve, sitting on the couch and reading the newspaper.

He glanced up at you before focusing back on his paper. You frowned a little at how distant he was with you, but you couldn’t blame him. He probably felt bothered that you were staying in Diana’s old room. You shrugged it off and went to your new room anyways. You had to text your dad and Fury, and then take a hot shower to make up for the cold night air.

Me: Had some one-on-one time with Barnes. His intentions look good, but I’ll stay the full week to be sure.

Dad: Remember your cover, stay safe.

Fury: Dig up any dirt you can. I want a thorough report of him.

You turned your phone’s screen off and placed it on the counter of the bathroom, making sure to lock the door before pulling your wig off as well and stepping into the hot, inviting water of your shower.


“Hey, Steve, Tony wants to know when you’re ready to try out the new suit.” You popped your head through his door. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring intently at a picture. He coughed and folded it back into his pocket before nodding and standing up to follow you to the lab. When he reached the door where you were standing, he did a once-over of you. Not in a ‘checking you out’ sort of way, but another skeptical glance. You froze momentarily, fearing that Steve was way too smart and could probably see right past your cover.

“Yeah, let’s go.”


“Okay, Laveau, I want you to take a shot at Steve. Anywhere you want. Preferably not in the nether regions. Or the chest. The legs and stomach are fair game though.” Tony said. He tossed you a gun and you caught the trigger on your ring finger. They braced for the bullet that they assumed would be shot, but it never came. Instead, the gun balanced delicately off your finger.

“What?” You asked. Tony and Steve stood up from their crouched positions and stared at you in shock.

“Uh, nothing. Diana just used to do that a lot, kinda her thing, I guess.” Tony said. You frowned.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Must’ve just been a lucky catch.” You shrugged the comment off. “Steve, are you ready?” He nodded, and braced his body. Tony had been working on the new 100% vibranium suit for weeks now, he told you, and he was excited to test it out. Steve, however, was a bit nervous to be shot at for experimental purposes.

You fired off one shot, one at his thigh. Then you fired another at his stomach. One at his shoulder, and one at his arm. Tony watched as the bullets bounced off Steve’s uniform. Steve’s face was contorted in pain, but nothing went past his armor. When he opened his eyes and stared down at himself, he grinned at his bullet-less body and looked at Tony, who was beaming. You used this moment to excuse yourself. “Well, if that’s all you need, sir, Bucky asked me to dinner and I should get going.” Tony waved you off, too excited by his success to pay much attention. You slipped out of the room.


You walked back into your bedroom after dinner with Bucky, whom you had a surprisingly good time with. You had decided that further investigation to him wasn’t needed. In fact, he spent nearly the entire time raving over the Avengers and his missions with them. He told you about growing up with Steve and how happy he was when he was pulled out of cryostasis and found out Steve Rogers was still alive. He was even happier when he found out that Steve was still around his age, non-biologically. You dropped your keys onto the table by your door and looked into the little mirror above it, taking out your earrings. You jumped out of your shoes when you heard Steve’s voice. “Diana Locke was a great spy, amazing even. She was an expert marksman. But she also had her ticks. She picked at her lip when she was nervous. She ate her pizza with a knife and fork,” you froze, still turned away from him. “In fact, she’s even your exact height.”

“Steve, I’m sorry. Bucky told me about Diana, but she’s dead, and I-“, he cut you off.

“Oh, yeah. Diana’s dead. Diana was a cover though. Everybody believes that she died in that Extremis fire, but only I know that she used that fire and belief that she was dead to run off and find a new alias, a new cover, because she had blown hers while saving Harley.” He stalked up behind you, but you still didn’t move aside from letting him shove a picture into your hand. You brought it up in front of you and studied it. It was a photo of him and Diana. They smiled brightly at the camera with Diana lifted high onto his shoulders. She held up an American flag as her hair blew in the wind behind her. “I was the only one lucky enough to know her real name. Her true self. I know her better than herself sometimes. I’m the only one who can keep up with her.” You turned to face him and he hovered his hand over your photo-static veil, pulling it off of your face. You helped him by reaching behind you and sliding off the wig, letting your natural hair fall back onto your shoulders, framing your face. He stared at you, a smile taking over his features.

“So, what was her name, Steve?” You breathed out.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.”