#and I decided that pre Sam leaving she always kept it down

[autism-swagger]

Girl help I'm having young Sam and Tara thoughts

[thornfield13713]

Because @mllemaenad was kind enough to ask about my own Georgia after telling me everything I wanted to know about her Fallout protagonist Emily, and because it seemed rude to put this in the replies, I'm doing a full backstory post here, at least up to the current point in the story:

Georgia Cox was born in Liverpool, and came to America with her parents at the age of eleven, where they settled in New York. I was originally planning on having her as a born-and-bred New Yorker, but...honestly, in a game series so steeped in Americana, it felt a bit more manageable to play a character with a relationship to the concept a bit closer to my own. The Coxes were among the last legal immigrants to the United States, and if they hadn't been a white family from a historic ally, they probably wouldn't have made it, the pre-war world being what it was. The whole experience of immigration was pretty formative for a preteen Georgia, both in terms of the luck they'd had getting in and the number of others - many even literally from the same boat - who hadn't managed to do the same.

Her mother Shauna died a few years later, mostly due to the family's lack of medical insurance. Georgia's father always swore that it wouldn't have happened in the old country, and became rather embittered towards his new one in consequence. After that, he nearly lived for his daughter. A washed-up boxer reduced to throwing matches to get by, he was determined that his daughter should solve her problems with her words rather than her fists, and do well for herself that way. It put a lot of pressure on Georgia, even if he didn't intend it to. She was painfully aware that, so far as her father was concerned, her doing well and achieving that American Dream thing people kept talking about would justify his decisions in life so far, from immigrating in the first place to everything he had done since, every compromise, every thrown match. Her need to make her father feel like he'd done right, that it had been worth all the sacrifices it had made, ended up as the root cause of a lot of her decisions in later life - the most notable of those decisions being Sam Adams.

Georgia met Sam at university. She was in her final year at Boston University by then, having got in on scholarship and got herself into no end of student debt paying off the rest of it, studying political science and history with an eye on law school to follow. He was just starting out, an engineering student from a military family with a legacy of service dating back to the Revolutionary War and two older brothers both serving in the army, every single one of whom expected him to join the Army Corps of Engineers once he had his degree, even if he personally would rather be a civil engineer. They bonded over a few things: a shared passion for the Unstoppables comics, even if he was a Grognak fan and she preferred the Silver Shroud, and the pressure placed on them by families they loved, but who seemed determined to steer them down a path that neither one of them felt really all that suited for and weren't actually considering whether they wanted or not, because what they wanted was always going to be secondary to those familial pressures. They got together towards the end of Sam's time at university, while Georgia was in law school, after quite a lot of pressure from their respective friends to just give in and act on their 'obvious' feelings for one another. Neither of them being precisely the most emotionally aware people, they decided that their friends must have a point and started going out. Nate graduated and went into the army before they could figure out that, no, they were great friends but there was no attraction there whatsoever. Unfortunately, this was also the point around which they got married, mostly for the benefits - one of Sam's elder brothers had recently been killed in action, leaving his steady girlfriend he was planning to marry when he got back with nothing, and Sam proposed mostly out of fear that the same would happen with him and Georgia. Georgia said yes...mostly out of a sense that she was supposed to. He was a nice guy, she liked and cared about him a lot, they got on well, dating so far had felt like a comfortable extension of their friendship more than anything, and he was the only partner she'd had that her father even slightly approved of - it made sense. Love would come in time, she was sure.

For most of their marriage, they lived apart and barely saw each other. Sam was always with the army, and Georgia was trying to get a career started in Boston and had no interest in moving around to follow his postings. (His family disapproved of this almost as much as they disapproved of everything else about Georgia - an immigrant from a poor family in a rough part of New York whose politics were uncomfortably radical, having been brought up by a pair of old-school British Labour Party voters for whom American Democrats were uncomfortably right-wing.) They wrote to each other when they could, but rarely saw each other, and after the start of the Anchorage campaign, and the annexation of Canada that followed, their relationship became increasingly strained. They were both, at various points, unfaithful, though neither of them ever told the other about it.

Georgia started her career as a public defender, moved into private criminal defence after a few years, and sort of...drifted into civil rights work. She was more successful at the former profession than the latter, it must be said, as while you could sometimes get a defendant off on an apolitical charge, civil rights were...charged...in the pre-war world. She ended up bringing a few cases against Vault-Tec, in fact, for violations of labour laws, though never with very much success. She may also have run into the original Nick Valentine at some point, though if she did she doesn't remember him and they didn't get on, since she was involved in at least one lawsuit against the Boston Police. Like her historical namesake (yes, I chose 'Adams' for a reason, though I'm mostly basing this off the musical 1776), Georgia was obnoxious and disliked, with a firebrand temper, and generally regarded as a troublemaker by the local authorities, despite never actually managing to strike any sort of serious blow for justice. She kept at it mostly out of stubbornness, and by continuing to take criminal and civil cases just to keep the lights on, even as, over the years, she grew increasingly hopeless, depressed and cynical. This only worsened her obnoxiousness, driving away what few friends she'd been able to keep. It didn't help that she had a viciously sarcastic tongue and a very bad sense of when not to use it. Or, for that matter, that even if she wasn't a communist, she certainly had socialist leanings (social democrat, specifically, though most people didn't care about the details). She had already been using mentats as an every-now-and-again thing through college. She started using them more and more heavily once she was working. Never for trials, but often for preparation, even if it never quite rose to the level of addiction- or at least, not a level she would have considered an addiction, even if she got...tetchy...when she didn't have her fix.

Shaun was...an accident. And also- sort of a mess. It was the first time she and Sam had been able to spend his leave together in some years. Their relationship had never been particularly physical, but this time- something had happened recently, on the front, that meant that Sam was desperate for someone to cling to, and Georgia...was increasingly alone, and Sam had been her best friend once even if it had been years since they could talk the way they used to and, every time they were together, it felt like they were both badly playing roles in a joint performance of 'A Married Couple'. That night, though- they both felt shipwrecked, and they clung to one another. That was all it needed to be.

A few months later, Georgia's law firm finally folded. It had been coming for a while - she'd never made very much money or been very successful as a lawyer, despite a talent for courtroom rhetoric that even her opponents admitted and the sort of charisma that gets you past all the red skill checks (obnoxious as she could be interpersonally, she was one hell of an orator) - but it was still an awful blow. Finding that she couldn't get work anywhere else did not help. There were a few reasons for that: her reputation for troublemaking, her difficult personality, the fact that she was pregnant and would have to take time off for maternity leave soon and also it was...sort of discouraged for women to keep working after having children, even if some (Barb Howard, for example) still did...and possibly a few quiet words in the right ears on the subject of her political beliefs, which...she'd been on the wrong end of enough court cases and was cynical enough about the government to be labelled a Communist even without her genuine radical politics coming into it.

This was around the time that Sam came home, and the family moved out to Sanctuary Hills on a combination of his veteran's benefits and money borrowed from Sam's parents. The move did not help Georgia's depression. If anything, it made it worse - she was a city girl, born and bred, and the suburbs were stultifying. Worse still was how smugly delighted her in-laws were that she was finally 'settling down a bit' now that she was pregnant. That it was a difficult pregnancy did not help - she was thirty-five, and there were complications. Shaun's birth was difficult, and medical advice afterwards was that they should not try for another child.

So, around a decade into their marriage, Sam and Georgia were learning how to live together for the first time, and it was- it wasn't going well. They were good roommates, but they had both changed a lot since they had been college best friends, and their respective issues meant that they were having a lot of trouble connecting. Sam wanted to pretend everything was fine, that his wartime experience and the horrors of the Annexation had never happened, to bury himself in suburban normalcy and, once he'd settled in a bit, maybe get that civic engineering job he'd wanted all along. Never mind that he still screamed in his sleep and had a wicked case of untreated PTSD. Georgia was sunk in depression that had only worsened after Shaun was born, and was having trouble mustering up the energy to feel very much about anything - it was like she was sleepwalking through life. Even signing up with her old enemy Vault-Tec seemed...sort of inevitable at this point. She'd lost, she'd been beaten, so why not just...let it happen. Hand her a spade and bury her, why not? She was done.

And then, of course, the bombs fell.

[onecanonlife]

Tommy is dead. The server reacts.

(word count: 1,732)

---------------

“What have you done?”

His voice is a reedy whisper, thin with horror and the realization that he is too little, too late. He doesn’t expect the sound to carry over the lava, but a response comes soon enough.

“He wouldn’t stop talking. And he killed the cat.”

Dream’s voice is even, calm, almost a bit defensive, as if he truly believes that he is justified in his actions. Sam swallows down his mounting nausea, places his trident against the floor to steady himself. The lava crackles, hisses, bubbles, orange and glowing, and he can’t cross it. Not now. Not when the security threat remains unresolved. Not when any wrong move on his part could very well mean Dream’s escape.

But he’s already made the wrong move, hasn’t he? Made the wrong move, and Tommy has paid for it. Has been paying for it, this whole last week. He kept him in there, kept him locked in a box with Dream even though he knows very well how it would effect him, kept him locked in with the reasoning that it was temporary, that he would let him out as soon as he could, that he couldn’t risk Dream’s release for anyone, even for Tommy.

But it’s not temporary.

Tommy was sixteen and loud-mouthed and bright-eyed when Sam last saw him, when he said that this would be the last time, that he was going to put his past behind him and look to a new start. Tommy will always be sixteen and loud-mouthed and bright-eyed, and locked in a box. There will be no new start. No seventeenth birthday. No triumphant return, no shining hotel. No tricks, no scams, no pranks.

Tommy was sixteen and loud-mouthed and bright-eyed. Tommy is dead.

He can’t even get his body.

He can’t even get his body.

Sam stands on the edge of a curtain of lava, staring into the orange glow that hides a monster in a room that is now a child’s pre-made coffin, and he wonders if he is a monster himself.

***

“He’s fine.”

It’s the only thing to say. The only truth. The only possibility. Sure, the message is there, glaring up from his communicator in bright yellow letters, but it’s not real. It’s a joke of some kind, a trick. Something to fake everyone out. Maybe Sam’s in on it, too. Tommy must be going crazy in there, to think that this would actually be funny, but it sounds like something he would do.

“Tubbo,” Ranboo says, and then stops. Nothing else. His face is pale, though things like that are hard to tell, with him, considering that half his face is always pale. But he’s gone an ashy-grey sort of color, and it doesn’t look great.

“He’s not dead,” he says, and laughs a bit. “Tommy wouldn’t just die like that. That’d be ridiculous.”

Tommy’s death would never be so meek. Tommy’s death, when it happens, will be a spectacle, a dramatic showing with speeches and explosions and the sun rising at just the right time and haloing his hair, because TommyInnit deserves nothing less than the best death scene. Women wailing and the like. So Tommy is not dead, because if Tommy were dead, that would mean that he died alone, in the company of no one but his murderer, that he died scared, trapped in a small space with no way out, that he died without Tubbo by his side.

“Right,” Ranboo says, and his voice is doing a peculiar thing that Tubbo can’t quite work out. “Yeah, of course. Do you wanna—do you think we should go check it out? Go stop by the prison?”

“What for?” he asks. “Sam’s not going to let us in. He didn’t even when I built a dick on top of it.”

And here is another thing: Tommy can’t be dead because it was never supposed to be Tommy first. Tubbo has tried to live without him, and he found it very hard. So Tommy is not allowed to die before Tubbo does. That is the rule that he keeps locked up in his heart, because Tommy would be upset if he knew about it. But it’s a rule that Tubbo intends to follow, so Tommy can’t be dead.

That would be against the rules.

“Just to see?” Ranboo tries. Tubbo’s not sure why he’s being so insistent about this.

“Nah, we’ve got a hotel to build,” he says. “C’mon.”

Ranboo follows along behind him. His feet drag, like he’s reluctant. But Tubbo has long since given up on understanding why Ranboo does the things that he does.

***

He’s dead.

She should be glad about it. This is what she wanted. Tommy dead, punished for all the pain and suffering he’s caused everyone else. No longer able to start wars, to cause harm, to blaze his way through the server and leave a path of destruction in his wake.

Tommy is dead. She should be glad about it. She is glad about it. She’s even smiling.

There is a message from Jack. She doesn’t check it.

Tommy is dead, that blue-eyed, wide-grinned boy who followed along on his brother’s coattails. Tommy is dead, that fiery spirit crushed and his overbearing, fast-talking voice silent. Tommy is dead, that loyal friend, the protector and defender of all that he called his, the fighter, the scammer, the boy who loved with all of his heart and then some.

Tommy is dead. Dead, dead, dead. There is no coming back from dead. Dead is final. Dead is an ending. Dead means it’s all over. Tommy is over. Tommy is gone. Tommy will never grow old.

It’s what she wanted. She should be glad about it. She is glad about it. She’s even smiling.

Niki brings her hand to her mouth to check. It’s a smile. A smile, for sure.

Her fingers come away from her face wet.

***

It was an empty castle already, but it feels emptier now. The different between a possibility and its lack, they suppose.

Tommy was never supposed to die. They can’t fathom it, somehow. Can’t fathom that it’s real, that Tommy will never grace these halls again. They’d finally begun to fix things, begun to work toward redemption, well and truly. And now Tommy is gone.

Eret grips their communicator tightly in their hand.

“I’m sorry,” they murmur to no one at all.

It was never meant to be echoes in their head, over and over and over again, an apology that means nothing but so much scattered dust.

***

He closes his eyes. Breathes. In and out.

This happens. People die. They die, and they leave, and he’s left behind. That’s his life. That’s how it is.

It still hurts, when it happens. He’s still learning how to make it not hurt. Still learning how not to be angry, that people find it so easy to abandon him. That people find it so easy to go where he can’t follow. Wilbur first, now Tommy, and he doesn’t have anyone left, really.

But it’s fine. It’s alright. He can manage on his own. He always has.

Fundy decides to go to bed early.

***

He takes a moment to breathe. To process. To absorb.

To regret, for what might have been.

The voices in his head call for blood, as they always do, but he will not give them the satisfaction. Not this time. The blood he wants most is not readily accessible, and he will not put himself in the position of confronting the favor owed. Not now. Not like this. Not ever, if he can help it, though he knows that these sorts of things always take their due, always steal their pound of flesh.

“I know, chat,” he says. “You can all shut up, I know.”

It doesn’t appease them. He wasn’t expecting it to.

Tommy is dead. Tommy is dead, and their relationship with it. Any tentative attempts toward repairs have been left to rot, to burn on the funeral pyre. Theseus, fallen from the cliff at long last.

The story was always going to end this way. No one can stop the Fates from severing the string.

He stands with a groan. He is not built for this weather, for this cold, and it is a wonder that he keeps being drawn to it, time and time again. It is a balm, he thinks, but for what, he doesn’t know. For nothing, at the moment, as the voices threaten to crowd out all the rest. But he can’t deal with them right now.

Phil has his own house, now, and a bridge to connect the two. A bridge over still water, such that Tommy will never cross. He should not feel the way he does. Tommy betrayed him. Tommy used him. Tommy discarded him, so he tossed him aside in turn.

But once they were called brothers. Does it mean anything, in the end?

Phil is standing in the middle of the floor, ruined wings on full display. His face is blank, his communicator held loosely in one hand.

“Phil,” he says.

“I failed him,” Phil says. “I should’ve been there for him, and I wasn’t.”

Technoblade has no comfort for the truth.

But he has comfort for his friend, for his friend who is perhaps his father but is definitely family, so he stretches out his arms and catches Phil as he falls, falls and falls and screams, and it is good, he thinks, that the wings are already ruined, because Daedalus tried to catch his son and failed. It is good, he thinks, that the wings are already ruined, so he cannot try again and ruin the rest of himself, too.

***

He nudges the body with his foot.

“You shouldn’t have killed that cat,” he murmurs. The body does not reply, and he sighs.

Tommy’s face is beyond recognition. The blood coats his knuckles. He hopes that there’s enough water in the sink to wash it out before it sets. He hates it when the blood sets.

He didn’t mean to go as far as he did. That doesn’t mean much, in the end. This will work just as well.

He is a god, after all. He is a god, and he will have what he deserves, and more besides.

“Don’t worry, Tommy,” he says. “I’ll make a believer out of you yet.”

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Leave Your Lover (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello! So, this was going to be one really long part, but it kind of got away from me and I had to split it into two. Don’t worry the next part is going to be very long either way because that’s the half that got away from me. This takes place pre-Infinity War. Inspired by Sam Smith’s “Leave Your Lover”, mainly the line featured. 

Summary: A brief glimpse into life on the run. Will Wanda be able to find Y/n? 

“If I can't have you I'll walk this life alone, spare you the rising storms and let the rivers flow.”

Being on the run was difficult to say the least and being on the run while trying to find someone who was actively trying not to be found was even worse. Despite being told by the rest of the group that it may be in her best interest to just move on and let you go, Wanda knew that wasn’t an option. She had made a promise to herself that she was going to keep fighting for you, no matter the cost. Wanda had let you go once and she wasn’t going to let it happen, not if there was a part of her that knew you still had love in your heart for her.

The only one who knew where you were at all times was Steve and he had spent the last few months absolutely refusing to disclose your exact location. That never stopped her from trying though. 

Eventually though, he gave in. Steve wasn’t sure if it was her sheer determination that impressed him or the fact that he had never seen you happier than when you were with her. If she thought she could create happiness in a terrible situation, Steve thought she at least deserved a true chance and he wouldn’t stand in the way. 

When she received the location, Wanda quickly packed what little she had and booked the next train ticket to Rennes, France. Feeling hopeful for the first time since long before the events of Lagos. _________________________________

For the majority of the time you’d been on the run, you stuck to the idea that hiding in plain sight was the best course of action. Which is why you were currently at a poorly lit bar, trying to live as normal a life as you possibly could under the circumstances. The only unfortunate thing was that you couldn’t interact with anyone due to the risk of being discovered. So, when you felt someone tap your shoulder, you knew it would be time to go.

Before turning, you downed your drink to prepare yourself to either get hit on by a random drunk person or convince them you weren’t who they thought you were.

Neither options were what you got when you turned around though. You tilted your head in pleasant surprise at the sight before you.

“Long time no see, stranger.”

Without thinking and perhaps partially due to the alcohol coursing through your veins, you wrapped yourself tightly around the woman in front of you. She laughed in surprise and gladly returned the embrace. You couldn’t help but revel in the contact, touch deprived from all the time you had spent in solitude.

For a while, you both just stood there, wrapped in one another’s embrace. Ignoring the occasional odd look from random passer byers. With one final squeeze, you released her but kept your hands on her shoulders. “You have no idea how good it is to see you, Nat.” you admitted to her with a smile on your face.

Natasha easily returned the smile. “It’s good to see you too. I was passing by outside when I thought I saw you sitting here and I had to see if it was really you.”

“What are the chances?” you asked with a laugh as you signaled the bartender over and ordered drinks. “Let’s celebrate.”

After drinking for a bit and catching up slightly, you both agreed that staying longer would be too much a risk and decided to take a walk outside. 

“You dyed your hair.” You noted as you reached over and took a strand of her hair gently in between your fingers before letting it go. “It looks good.”

A playful smirk spread across Natasha’s lips. “Yeah, well, I figured the red was a dead giveaway for me, so… blonde it was.” She nudged you playfully. “A better disguise than a beanie and glasses at least. You’re no better than Rogers.” 

A boisterous laugh escaped your lips, “What can I say? That man taught me everything I know.” Natasha shook her head but laughed despite herself. 

You knew you would have to separate soon, but you tried not to focus on that. The pair of you walked in contented silence, enjoying the comfort of not being alone, even if it was temporarily.  Eventually you both come up on the street where your hideout was located and for the first time you didn’t feel the need to rush in. Thankfully there was a small bench located across the street and you both wandered over and took a seat, enjoying the cool air.

“How have you been?” Natasha eventually asked, her eyes on yours as she attempted to analyze you.

You pondered the question for a moment. “I’ve been… lonely.” You finally breathed out, turning your gaze skyward. “I feel alone. I miss real connections. I miss just being able to walk down the street without fear of corporal punishment. I miss human contact.”

Natasha’s hand fell to your knee and squeezed lightly. You turned your head to meet her eyes. “I know what you mean. You’re never really alone though, Y/n. You know we’d all be there in a heartbeat if we could, if we have to.” 

The touch and the knowledge that you weren’t alone was something you had missed. Again, whether it was the alcohol in both your systems or the deprivation of another human’s touch, but you both found yourselves leaning forward and connecting lips. 

It was gentle and nice, but you couldn’t help but compare it to Wanda. Kissing Wanda always felt powerful and right. The way your whole body felt like electricity was coursing through your veins at the simplest of touches. Kissing Wanda always felt like coming home. You could’t help but think you needed this to realize that the one you still wanted was the one you shouldn’t want.

Despite this, you didn’t pull away, tangling your hand in Natasha’s now blonde locks as her hands fell to your waist. You allowed yourself this small moment of comfort.

Across the street, Wanda had been approaching only to stop in horror at the sight before her. Her mind rushing and heart breaking at the sight. If she felt a fraction of what you did that night on the roof, she couldn’t imagine how you got through it. As much as her heart ached in her chest, she didn’t allow it to stop her. She just hoped it wasn’t too late. That you hadn’t already given your heart to another. 

After some time, both you and Natasha pulled away. Laughing when you met one another’s eyes. “That was… nice.” You said lightly.

Natasha rolled her eyes and pushed your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re drunk. We will never speak of this again.” She chuckled and looked at her watch. “My train leaves in a little over an hour, I should probably go.” You nodded in understanding and she hugged you once more before beginning to walk away.

“Hey, Nat?” you called after her. She turned. “Take care of yourself, okay?” She nodded and blew a teasing kiss your way before walking off into the night. With a sigh you leaned into the bench and closed your eyes for a moment, taking in the fact that you were alone again. 

It had to have been less than a few minutes when you felt someone sit next to you, your eyes shot open and met with stunning emerald eyes that used to be your world. “Wanda?” you whispered, feeling the air leave your lungs at the sight of her. 

Wanda quirked her lips up slightly, but there was melancholy in her eyes. “So, you and Nat, huh?” There was no accusation in her tone, just sadness. Possibly even acceptance. You quickly realized that she must have seen the kiss.

“And if we are? Together, I mean. What will you do?” You probed challengingly.

Pain flooded her eyes as she dropped her gaze to her lap. “Nothing. I’m not going to interfere if you’re happy, but… but just know that I won’t stop fighting for you. I’ll be here waiting because our love is destined and I’m not going away. I’ll still love you even if you chose to love someone else. You have all of me. Always.” She paused slightly. “You are my only direction.” She added quietly, repeating the words you once told her back to you. 

Your heart clenched at the referenced moment, of one of your formerly favorite moments. 

Staring off into the distance, you could feel the numbness begin to fade as the alcohol started to leave your system. “Why?”

She lifted her gaze up to you curiously, but you didn’t meet her eyes. “Why what?”

“Why do you keep trying?” 

Wanda took a deep breath and turned so she was facing you completely even if you wouldn’t look at her. “Love.” She stated simply, “I’m in love with you, beyond all rationality. Even if you don’t believe me. I want you to have everything you want, even if its Nat, even if that destroys me.”

Even in Spain you had never heard her speak so passionately. It terrified you. Terrified you so much that you wanted to get up and run far, far away from her. Far from the feelings that her words stirred within you.

Wanda wasn’t done though, she needed to get everything off her chest. To lay all her cards out. “When you love someone, you don’t stop. Even when everyone on the team calls me crazy and tells me I should just move on and let you go. I won’t stop or give up because if I could give up…” She risked taking your hand in hers, sighing in relief when you don’t pull back. “If I could give up and listen to everyone’s advice and move on and find someone else that wouldn’t be love. That would be some imitation that is not worth fighting for.”

“Wanda…” you whispered finally looking up at her, noticing the way her eyes shined with unshed tears.

She squeezed your hand again. “But you… You are more than worth fighting for. You will always be worth fighting for. And if I can’t have you I’ll be alone because no one else can hold my heart. This is love.”

“I’m not with Natasha.” You admitted softly after Wanda’s declaration, watching the way relief filled her eyes. “I think we were both just lonely and comforting each other.”

The relieved smile that took over Wanda’s features was contagious as you couldn’t help but smile hesitantly back at her. 

Wanda’s heart fluttered at the sight. That was the first time you had smiled at her since the night on the roof. 

“What does that mean?” she questioned hopefully.

With hesitation, you interlaced your fingers with Wanda’s. “It means that I’m still not sure I trust you and I’m not ready to be with you again.” Her head dropped in dejection. “But. I’m not going to ask you to leave if you want to stay and work on that.”

For the first time in a long time, Wanda felt a semblance of happiness blossom in her chest. Unable to stop herself, she surged forward and took you in her arms, melting when you held her back. “I promise I’ll earn your trust back. I’m not going anywhere. I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, Y/n.”

Part 10! double digits! Pre-Infinity War and Infinity war was supposed to be one chapter and in hindsight that was probably overly ambitious of me. That means there will now be 13 parts instead of 12. Anyway, as always let me know what you think, and hope you enjoyed! :)

[loverdrew]

Do It For Me | b.b

Synopsis: Y/N may never be able to forgive Bucky if he goes through with his decision. (pre-endgame with a twist, very inaccurate storyline and writing I know but it’s all fiction)

Warnings: a few cuss words here and there

Based off of Greys Anatomy (between Izzie and Denny)

My first ever Bucky Barnes fanfic! I’m getting more into writing for Marvel characters.

I had been sat up in my room at the Avengers compounds for the whole day at his point; harnessing my magic, drawing/reading to calm me down, and just enjoying a nice day off. Everything seemed quiet, a little too quiet for my taste. No one had come knocking on my door to talk or check up on me. After a few minutes I started to hear talking through my headphones and it was coming from outside my door. I slowly let my earbuds drop from my ears, silently opening up my door and creeping downstairs. It had seemed to more I got down the steps, I saw more people come into view. All backs were turned, some arms crossed, but voices were definitely raised. It felt like more than one person kept trying to speak and once at the bottom step, I saw the one person who was the center of it all.

Wanda was the first one to see me, cutting her sentence short, and soon everyone followed. Steve’s face dropped, biting his lower lip and looking at the floor. Bucky stood up, eyes almost bulging out of his head. I looked around stunned at everyones faces as they all made a collective sigh.

“W-what’s...what’s going on guys.” Wasn’t so much of a question, but more of a ‘tell me now or I’ll crush you guys with just a thought’. My powers were growing, everyone knew this. With one scream, a whole city could go deaf. With no swipe of my hand, I can send more than 10 men flying 100 feet. Most of the time they wouldn’t dare bother me in fear of my emotions becoming heightened and possibly destroying something. But something tells me right now might be the first time that happens.

“I said, what’s going on.” My hands glowed purple, the color of my powers. Wanda immediately rushed in front of me and looked me in the eyes, rubbing her hands over mine. When she found out I also harnessed powers from an infinity stone, Tony made it a point to have her help me maintain my magic. Her touch softened the glow, instantly calming down my heart rate. She repeated the same phrase to me; ‘don’t let it take control of you, take control of it’. The purple glow went away, as she guided me towards the group.

“Thanos is coming, Y/N.” Tony spoke up.

“And we’re trying to figure out how to stop him once and for all but...there was an idea brought up.” Bruce chimed in, and I followed his gaze right to Bucky. His head laying low. My mind went to the darkest of places. Bucky had never looked so ashamed. All I wanted to do was hug him and rub up and down his back, he always liked that. The last time I did that for him was a few nights ago when he had yet another nightmare and I found him downstairs watching TV even though I knew he was exhausted. He was too afraid to fall asleep. I remember that night, thinking about how badly I wanted to tell him how I felt. He had been my rock since coming into the compound, even if nobody else saw it. Our friendship consisted of late night snacks and conversations, training together making each other stronger, and always communicating and tell each other the truth no matter what. But oh, how I wanted that friendship to mean more to him as it does to me. But I would panic, thinking I wasn’t ever going to be good enough for one of the best people I’d ever met. He deserved a woman who was just as great as he was. 

“Tell her.” Natasha spoke, anger laced in her voice.

“Bucky...” I whispered. 

“My greatest wish in life is to take back every bad thing I did in this world. Every person I had killed, hurt, ruined their life.” He looks at Tony with deep regret. “And I can’t ever do that physically, but maybe in another way, I can.” He was rubbing his hands together avoiding my gaze.

“Okay? Bucky that’s great that you’ve figured out how you want to do that-” 

“You didn’t let him finish.” Sam said with a monotone voice.

“We need to be ready whenever Thanos decides to come. And the only way for me to get my wish is to...be the one that’s sacrificed during the battle.” My heart stopped and the ringing in my ears began to pick up. Wanda could see my hands glowing much brighter and more rapidly this time. I could feel her hands come up to the sides of my arms but within a flash my whole body shook the entire room like an earthquake.

“What!!” I walked over to him and slammed down on the table. “Are you out of your god damn mind Barnes!”

He tried to reach out but I raised my hand, stopped his movement and moving his arm to stay at his side, unable to move it.

“No, no, no you’re not doing this. You guys please tell him he is NOT sacrificing himself! You have no idea how much power those stones are! Just look at me! I have the same powers as a stone yet I can’t control shit Bucky! It’s out of control you’ll be dead before you can even use one stone to fight off Thanos!”

“I’ve been working with Tony and Shuri on a way to help me harness the power. They’ve been working on a suit for me that is stronger than Tony’s. Y/N you have to understand that this is my way of righting my wrongs, if I die then I die a hero who saved the whole world, not someone who use to kill hundreds of people with no remorse.” I turned towards Tony, his eyes becoming scared as he held his breath.

“You...” I throw my hands up and thrashed Tony into the wall, shattering it. He couldn’t move, paralyzed by fear at what I could do to him. Wanda yelled out to stop, but I couldn’t hear anything over my own boiling anger. “You knew about this. You knew he wanted to die and didn’t try to stop him!”

“I-I was just doing what I thought was the only option.” I slammed him again into the wall.

“There’s other options Tony!” I began to cry out, tears instantly springing from my eyes so quick it took me a second to realize I was even crying. With each puff of my chest my powers weakened as I wasn’t paying as much attention anymore, my brain becoming overstimulated with dark thoughts.

Bucky came up behind me and brought his arms around mine, his cheek pressed up against the back of my head.

“You’re not doing this Buck, we’ll find another way.” I said in between cries. I looked around seeing everyone else become emotional at my breakdown. Natasha was like a mother figure to me, this was the first time I was seeing her tear up. Wanda was my protector, but she didn’t know how to protect me from my own feelings. And everyone who surrounded me, who watched me grow from a 20 something year old uncontrollable witch to a grounded and a fantastic Avenger, wore heavy hearts and hooded eyes. I turned around quickly wiping my eyes of any tears and stood tall. My breathing coming back to normal. “It’s okay we’ll-we’ll find another way. There’s gotta be another way right?” 

“Y/N...” He said sadly, clutching my hair. I pushed him off and walked away giving some distance between us, actually, between the whole crew. I stood on one side of the room while the rest remained where they were.

“Don’t do that. Don’t try to make me okay with this. Alright, you did some shit in your past Bucky, so what we all don’t have the best track records as angels. And I’m sure you don’t feel like you deserve to live with all of the trauma you’ve endured but guess what? You do! You know how you get the fix things? You become a better person, a fighter and protector of the world! People change Bucky and I’ve seen it first hand in you! You deserve to live just as much as anyone else!” Everyone remained silent, so I assumed they agreed with me. “And if you tell me one more time about sacrificing yourself because that’ll right your wrongs in this world, so help me God, I will kill you myself right now!” And without thinking, my hand shot out a purple beam of light, latching onto a glass vase and chucking it around the room, creating a whole in the wall and the glass shattering everywhere.

He walked up to me peacefully with his hands held in the air.

“Y/N, please. I’m going to be alright, you don’t have to worry this much. You should be more concerned about protecting yourself. I definitely wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t do this and something worse happens to you.”

I laughed in sadness.

“What about me? What about me when you die!” I saw multiple people begin to shed the same tears I was. We had all grown fond of Bucky when he joined us. He really proved and showed deep down, behind the trauma HYDRA had left him, he was a great man. That’s why I fell so deeply in love with him. “That’s the worst thing that could ever happen to me Bucky! I will die inside if you don’t exist in this world!”

“Y/N-” more tears sprang from his eyes. His voice cracked and got lower. It’s like he couldn’t find the words to describe the pain in his heart at the thought of leaving you behind. Without having told you that he loved you too. 

“No I get it! You’ll be okay, you’ll be fine with it but what about me? Please, don’t do it for yourself, do it for me please!” I hunched over, the grief and pain overtaking my body. I felt too weak to even stand and continue yelling at him. “Please Bucky, please do this for me! Don’t leave me please don’t do this, I can’t take it please! You have to do this for me, because if you don’t I will never be able to forgive you!”

He stepped closer at a slower pace.

“For dying? For saving the world?”

“No for making me love you!” I began to cry out harder, the ring in my voice shaking the room once again, making everyone’s hands fly up to their ears as I got louder and louder. Natasha at this point was full on bawling, along with most people in the room. I think it was safe to say everyone knew of my affection towards the man at the center of attention, and maybe that’s why everyone had left me alone today. Afraid of this exact situation. The one person, the one thing in this world that can bring me to tears at my feet.

Bucky’s eyes filled with adoration as he ran up to me and held me on the floor in between his legs. I clutched at his arm crying into his shoulder. He looked back at Tony, who only gave him a nod. They had agreed together that one of them was bound to be the sacrifice when it came to defeating Thanos. Bucky of course still wanted it to be him, he felt it was the most right option. But when he looked back at Tony, clutching the love of his life in his arms, Tony took that as a final answer. Tony was okay with the decision he had come to long ago. He was ready to die for the good of everyone else, but nobody knew that yet. Bucky wasn’t giving up the fight, but now it only became that much harder to leave her behind. It was easier not knowing her feelings, but it had come to the light. Bucky wanted a life like Tony, the kids, the wife, everything. But at what cost? He was still going to fight to the death if he had to, but the decision to be the one to end it all was fading away.

“It’s okay Y/N, I promise we’ll talk more about it and find another way if we have to.”

“We have to Bucky, we have to.” My cries didn’t stop, but my voice lowered. My eyes caught everyone else’s, almost embarrassed at my sudden outburst of devoted love to Bucky, but everyone knew, they just never heard it from me. “Just hold onto me please.” I pleaded.

“I’m here Doll, I promise I’ll stay right here.”

[holylulusworld]

The pet (2)

Summary: The dream is over but there is still so much to discover…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Tony Stark x Reader, Thor Odinson x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader  

Characters: Dr. Strange, Loki Laufeyson, Dr. Cho

Warnings: angst, language, smut, unprotected sex, hair pulling, voyeurism, consensual degrading, reverse cowgirl, prostitution (well, she gets paid for sex, so…), oral (female receiving), polyamory, pregnancy, reader has powers, comforting, fluff

A/N: This was one version of Therapy for Superheroes. I decided against this version but kept it. I made a mini-series out of this version

Words:  3,9 k

Divider by @writeyourmindaway

The pet masterlist

“Where do I sign?” 

You barely have the time to get an answer from Tony before he has you over his desk. He’s impatient, desperate even when he slides your drenched panties down your legs.

“You naughty girl got all wet for me while daydreaming,” you nod eagerly feeling his fingers toy with your swollen bud. “Never got a girl that wet for me without even touching her.”

“I…I dreamed of you and this arrangement,” your legs are about to give in feeling two thick fingers open you up in a frenzy. “I don’t know how this is possible but I saw you and the others. We were going to have babies.”

“Darling, I learned everything is possible in this crazy world,” his fingers crook to catch your g-spot, causing you to squirm. “I fought monsters from space, a robot army one of my creations created, a crazy Asgardian who wanted to conquer the world and is now our ally.”

“Loki?” Tony’s fingers leave you empty too soon. Obedient you lie on the desk, let Tony slowly unbuckle his belt. “Do I have to serve him too?”

“No, Y/N,” his cocks slaps against your exposed ass, smears pre-cum onto your skin. “I’ll have a test ride with you. If you can fulfill my needs, you’re hired, if not you can write into your diary Tony Stark fucked you onto his desk.” A moan escapes your lips feeling the tip poke at your entrance.

“I want this job, but I need to know…oh god,” he slides into you with one forceful thrust, not caring anyone outside his office could hear the noises you make.

“You will be mine now,” Tony grunts. “Be good and I’ll tell you more about the job when I’m done with this little cunt of yours,” you nod, holding your breath when he carefully slides back out only to slam into you.

“Tony!”

“Master or Sir,” you whine, feeling your breath hitch in your throat. “Or daddy if you like it,” Tony smirks hearing a tiny whimper leave your lips. “I know everything about you, darling. All your naughty fantasies, the things you want to try, the need to have more than one partner using your body.”

He sets a rhythm taking your breath away. Every thrust hits home and you wonder if he calculated the way he penetrates you. “I know you always wanted someone to take care of you. I know you need me and the others.”

“You don’t even know me,” shuddering you feel the heat in your belly rise. Your whimpers turn into cries feeling Tony’s hand fist your hair, adding pain to the pleasure he gives you. “Sir.”

“I watched you for months until I send you the job offer,” Tony smirk, now grinding against you. “Who do you think is responsible for your boss firing you out of the blue.”

“Oh-god,” the door to the office opens and you look at Steve who ushers into the room, locking it. “Sir, please, I’m so close.”

“Look at our new pet, Steve. Do you think she deserves to cum?” Steve walks toward you, a smug grin on his lips he cups your cheek to force you to look at him while his friend starts to slam his hips into your ass.

“I thought we wanted to wait until she signed the contract, Tony,” scolding his friend Steve crouches down in front of the desk to press his lips greedily to yours. He’s swallowing your screams and the desperate pleas to let you fall over the edge. “She looks so obedient. Let the girl cum before it’s my turn, Tony.”

“Fine, cum for me, darling. I want you to cream all over daddy’s dick, pet,” you nod, moaning into Steve’s mouth, sliding your tongue over his lips. “Now.”

The dam breaks and you feel slick run down your legs when Tony pulls out to watch your cunt pulse around nothing. “Perfect little slut, Steve. I never came harder.”

“You should explain the rules, her contract, and anything else whilst I have my way with her,” Tony smirks, slapping your ass playfully. “Come over to the couch, doll. I want to have a look at you, all of you. Strip,” your legs wobble but you manage to get up to hastily strip your clothes off.

“She had a vision, just like our friend told us,” Tony watches you walk toward Steve who already got rid of his clothing. He’s stark naked on the couch, pointing toward his aching cock. “Strange was right, I guess. She’s our destiny, Steve.”

“I can only tell she looks ready to take me,” Steve looks at you stand in front of him, shyly glancing at his dick. “Turn around, and I’ll give you what a good girl deserves.” You whimper, loving the way Steve calls you a good girl. “Slow, doll.” 

Steve’s hands grab your waist, guide you to his crotch whilst you blindly grasp for his length to guide him toward your dripping entrance.

“Darling, you are such a good girl.” Tony cups your tits, groaning as you squeak when the blunt head of Steve’s dick slips inside. “He’s big, isn’t he?”

“So big and thick,” you whine, fighting to get Steve inside of your tight heat. “He’ll split me open,” your words cause Steve to force you down, making you cry out in pleasured pain when you cum all over him.

“Did you just cum for me, doll?” Steve plays with your bud, whilst Tony stands in front of you, watching your face contort in pleasure. “Rules, Tony.”

“Rules,” panting Tony gets the contract to concentrate on something else than the way Steve starts to move your body. “If you get the job, you’ll be ours. Your body belongs to me, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, James Buchanan Barnes, and Thor Odinson.” 

“He’s so hard,” you throw your head back, rocking your hips faster. “I will cum again. Please, oh please.”

“Cum for me Y/N,” Steve smirks, toying with your clit. “I know I can make you cum harder than Tony,” Tony grunts, glancing at your cunt. “I think he wants to prove he’s better later.”

“Anyways, back to the contract,” not able to concentrate on anything but the way Steve starts to fuck up into your body you nod, faking you listen to Tony’s words.

“You’re ours, so no other guys or girls. You will not talk to anyone about our arrangement. If you do so, we will find a way to punish you,” you nod again, looking up at Tony with glassy eyes. “It’s your job to make sure you’re on birth control. I will fuck you bare, the others too. We are all clean, got tested days ago. The results are on my desk.”

“’m clean too,” you dig your nails into Steve’s thighs, feeling his cum shoot into you. Warmth fills your belly, and you fall against his shoulder, closing your eyes. “Fuck.”

“I know you are clean, checked on your health too,” you know you should get mad Tony got you fired and that he stalked you but right now, you’re too sated to complain. “We will have you anytime and anywhere. Monday to Friday you are ours, the weekends are off.”

“We want all of you, means oral, vaginal, and anally,” Steve whispers feeling your walls still flutter around him. “Anything else we can talk about.”

“I never had anyone in there,” you blur out, causing Steve to groan. “I was afraid someone would hurt me.”

“Soft limit, I get it. We will talk to the others and promise to take it slow,” Tony makes a note, and you chuckle at the odd situation.

“I don’t like pain or bondage. Toilet stuff is a no go, not only a hard limit,” Steve hums, pecking your neck softly whilst his hand roughly kneads one of your tits. 

“We will make a list, darling. Now I want you to go to the bathroom, get clean, and follow us to the conference room. You’ll meet the others, and we will discuss your contract,” Tony smirks when you slowly get off Steve’s lap, squeaking as his cock twitches again…

“A perfect little pet,” Thor hums, watching Sam run his tongue along your sex. He’s purring against your cunt, ignoring Bucky is busy playing with your tits.

The Asgardian watches the scene with interest, not understanding the ‘contract’ or why you are suddenly theirs.

“I think, Sam likes her too,” Bucky snickers at Steve’s words when Sam looks up at you on the conference table, exposed to all men. “Do you want her or not?”

“Babe, that’s the best pussy I ever tasted. If she feels around me as good as you told me, I’m game,” Sam gets up to open his pants, watching you with soft eyes. “Do you think you can take me after those two ruined you?”

“I want to try,” you hold out your hands for Sam, hoping he’ll go easy on you. “Look at you, babe. So needy for my dick.”

“Jesus, can you not talk like that? I’ll burst my pants if you do not stop,” Bucky grumbles, watching Sam stroke his length. “Fuck her so I can have my turn.”

“Guys, she had two of us, with Sam it makes three. You should switch to her mouth or our girl will be a broken doll in the morning,” Steve muses. 

“Sam,” you grip his arms, digging your nails into his biceps when he bottoms out with one forceful thrust. 

“Babe, you feel so good, warm, and tight. You’re made for us,” Sam whispers, helping you to wrap your legs around his waist. He’s moving slow, letting you adjust to his size. “All velvet and wetness.”

“Wilson, stop,” Bucky slowly stroke his cock, matching the rhythm Sam uses to fuck you into the table. He’s groaning when you grasp for him, to swipe your thumb over the tip. “Good girl. Look at our doll. While Sam fucks you into the table you still try to be good for me.”

“I’ll be so good, Sir,” Bucky hums, leaning over you to capture your lips in a messy kiss. “All good.”

“She saw the future,” Tony throws in, causing Bucky to furrow his brows before his lips wrap around one nipple. “Strange was right about her, our future, and fate.”

“It wasn’t a dream?” you pant, feeling Sam’s hands grip your thighs roughly to drag you onto his cock. “What was it?”

“A vision, darling…”

“I told you to not bring her here,” Stephen sighs, watching Thor hover over you to peck your forehead. “You couldn’t resist getting a pet, now you set fate into motion.”

“She saw the future too, Stephen,” Tony shrugs, when Sam sits onto the bed to look at you. “I think Y/N belongs to us, Dr. Strange. No matter how many times we tried to not get involved with her, we failed. This time we can make it right, keep her with us, and raise our children. The dream, I think to her it was a pleasant one…”

Five years later…when a dream becomes reality…

“Gosh, I feel like a whale,” Bucky snickers, helping you slowly get up. “I’m five months pregnant and look like I could sink the Titanic.”

“You look beautiful, doll. All swollen and filled with not one, or two but three babies,” Steve states, roaming your body with his eyes. “I know one is mine.”

“Not that again,” you purse your lips, glaring at the super-soldier. “What about ‘we are all the father’?”

“I just know one is mine,” Bucky runs his hand over your belly, smiling when one of the babies kicks his hand. “There, that’s mine.”

“Barnes keep it together, one of them is mine,” Tony quirks a brow when you silently beg him to free you from the super-soldiers who seem to be glued to your side lately. “Guys, we need to bring her to her next appointment. I want you to check on the nursery whilst Sam and I take care of Y/N.”

“We want to come to,” flanking your sides Steve and Bucky won’t leave you. “We need to protect her. Anyone could attack you and hurt our babies.”

“No one would dare to hurt my heir,” Thor booms, twirling his hammer. “Y/N is my little pet, no one will hurt her or the babies.”

“Can we all stop and just look at Y/N? She looks hungry and tired. Let’s have breakfast and go to the medic bay together but without fighting over parenthood,” Sam is the voice of reason once again and you are thankful he takes the lead.

“No unhealthy food for my baby,” Steve grunts, shoving the plate with pancakes away. “She’ll have porridge.”

“I hate porridge, I want pancakes, the ones Bucky made for me, Stevie,” whining you poke your fork into the pancakes, defending them fiercely. “Hands off, Captain!”

“Y/N be good”, using his ‘Captain’ voice Steve narrows his eyes but since you are pregnant, you don’t give a shit if you piss him off. 

“No! I want pancakes, I’ll get them. I’m the one carrying three babies now hands-off and be a good father, feed your girl,” Tony chuckles, shoving the maple syrup toward you. “Thanks, Tons.”

“Anytime, darling. How about tomorrow you’ll eat some of Steve’s porridge?” you sigh, looking at Steve.

“Fine, but please ad vanilla. I’ll eat it when you add vanilla for me, Stevie,” his blues eyes shine when you agree to eat healthily, even if it’s only one morning it’s a win to Steve.

“Back to the next ultrasound, can we get to know the gender now, doll? Please?” Bucky scoots closer, running one hand over your belly. “Baby?”

“If my vision was true, it’s a girl and two boys, if not, you’ll never know,” you peck Bucky’s nose, smirking when he sighs disappointed. “Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

“My little pet, do you need anything? Can I bring you more juice?” Thor falls onto one of the stools, causing the furniture to creak. “Are you happy?”

“I can eat pancakes and have five men taking caring of me, I’m golden,” you roll your eyes, stuffing another pancake into your mouth. “I’m a little tired, is all.”

“You can sleep in my arms, anytime,” Thor hums when you lean your head against his shoulder. “Just say the word, my dove.”

“Lady and gentlemen,” Dr. Cho snickers, looking at the monitor. “There is a healthy girl,” you nod, smiling when Sam gasps. “Here we have one penis and another.”

“Wait! My heir has two penises, he’s blessed,” Thor hums, watching you burst into laughter. Tears run down your cheeks and little snorts leave your lips whilst Thor tries to understand why you are laughing. “What?”

“Doctor Cho meant there are two boys, Thor,” Tony snickers. “Don’t worry, he’ll have a large one cause that’s my son.” You pat Thor’s hand, silently apologizing for your outburst.

“We have another penis and another girl,” this time Sam blinks, looking at the monitor. “Another boy was hiding behind his siblings, just like the girl.”

“Wait! There are five babies now? How shall Y/N’s vagina survive five babies? Oh-what did we do to her?” you look at Tony who turns pale like in your vision before he hits the ground. 

“Another one bites the dust,” snickering you watch Sam’s legs give in. “Anyone else wants to pass out on me? I mean, I’m the one with the huge belly and a vagina which will look like the Grand Canyon.” Steve swallows thickly, glancing at Bucky who fights with his emotions before he starts smiling dumbly.

“Imagine, all of them are mine,” Bucky chokes out before he fists his friends’ jacket, “Stevie, what will I do if they all look like me?”

“Call them punk 1 two 5?” Steve laughs watching you pat Tony and Sam’s heads. “If not, you can call the girls punkie.”

“Not helpful, Stevie, not helpful at all,” Dr. Cho grins, nodding at you to let the ‘bomb’ drop. 

“Y/N wants to announce something. I must ask you to not freak out are destroy my equipment again, pointing toward Thor’s hammer she narrows her eyes. 

“As you wouldn’t stop bug me, I asked Dr. Cho for a prenatal paternity test,” Tony looks up from the floor, hopefully grasping for your hand. “It looks like one of the girls is Sam’s.”

“Yes, to your left, Captain, one is mine,” Sam smirks. “I knew I can make her round. Now I need to find a name, oh-how do I fend off guys? I need to find a book.” 

“As Sam is busy to order more books, I can use the time to you tell that girl number two is Bucky’s,” the super-soldier sniffles when he looks at your belly. “I hope she won’t have a metal arm, tho.”

“Doll, this, punk…I…” Bucky tries to hold back the tears. Steve, Thor, and Tony look at you, tense, waiting for you to tell them about the other babies. “I’m going to be a daddy.”

“We know,” Tony grits out, hoping one of the babies is his. “Is one mine? Please, tell me one is mine.”

“To make it painless, the rest of you is going to be the father of a strong boy,” you smile when Thor drops his hammer to bury his face into your neck, praising your name.

“Punk, you’re going to be a father too,” Steve nods at his friend, still speechless he’s going to have a child with you. “Stevie, you look pale.”

“I…I just need a moment,” panting Steve looks at Tony who struggles to get back up. They fought monsters, whole armies but hearing they will have a child soon is too much for them. “I never thought I’ll have a family.”

“Same,” Tony finally gets back up to place his hand onto your belly. “Wilson, any new books to read? I think I’ll need one or two.”

“I found ten new, no eleven, crap, that one looks good too, I’ll order them all,” Sam furiously orders books, not caring he’ll read only half of it.

“Can we have lunch now, I’m hungry,” nodding Thor pecks your neck, not wanting to let go of you. “You have to let got, Thor.”

“My dove is filled with my baby,” humming the god moves one hand to your belly. “I’ll praise Odin for blessing me with a son.”

“Guys not again! We will not watch that crap!” you insist grasping for the remote control. “Why would I want to see a fight between the fathers of my unborn children and monsters?”

“They need to know their daddies are heroes,” Bucky insists, resting his head onto your belly. “My daughter needs to know her father can protect her.”

“I don’t like seeing one of you get hurt,” sniffling you run your fingers through Bucky’s hair. “Can we not watch a funny movie?”

“Y/N, we will watch anything you want to watch,” Sam pecks your neck, glancing at your belly. “My baby girl can see her daddy in action later. I’ll show her how to fly with my wings.”

“Sam Wilson! You will not take your daughter onto a rooftop and fly with her,” scolding Sam you lose the fight for the remote control. Tony grasps for it, switching to a promo clip for his company. “No, Tony. Not that crap again. I know you look good in that suit, now let me watch something else.”

“How about a classic movie? Casablanca,” Steve tries but you pout, shaking your head. 

“Stevie, they do not end up together. It’s a sad movie,” Thor smirks, watching the other men fight over a movie while you rest your back against his chest, letting the god rub your shoulders. He’s not interested in movies or the things the other fight over, Thor enjoys having you against him and his son in your belly.

“Let Y/N choose,” Stephen steps into the room, uninvited he earns glares from your men. “She will need a bit of distraction before five babies arrive.” The master muses, looking at your belly. “I can sense great strength within you, Y/N.”

“She’s carrying my heir, of course, there is great strength,” Thor booms.

Stephen nods but he looks at you, silently telling you he meant you, not the babies. 

“I want to watch,” a kick disturbs your thoughts, and you look at your belly in awe feeling your babies move. “I guess they are awake now, thanks for that. Who’s on helping me into the bathroom duty?”

“Why is he still around, watching me?” you don’t like the way Dr. Strange looks at you, nor do you like Tony nods silently, glancing at you now and then. “I’m worried whenever he comes around.”

“Stephen is no harm,” Steve steps closer to you, protectively placing one hand onto your belly. “If he’ll ever be a threat…”

“We will take him down,” Bucky ends Steve’s line as usual. “I don’t like the way he looks at our girl. There is something in his eyes making me feel unease.”

“You? Mr. Cool feels uneasy,” Sam scoffs, not liking even Bucky gets a bad feeling around Stephen. The master means trouble, Sam just knows it.

“We got a problem. According to Stephen, a great danger is coming for our babies. He said something about a corrupted timeline and that someone comes here to correct it,” Tony’s face falls when you struggle to breathe. “The vision Y/N had, it should’ve never come true. It was a warning, not a prophecy according to Stephen.”

“Whoever is coming, we will fight him with all might,” Thor booms, gripping Mjolnir tight. “No one gets my heir.”

“They can come for her but they won’t succeed,” Bucky clenches his fists, aiming his gun toward Stephen. “If you are involved, you are dead.”

“Buck, calm. We need to bring Y/N to a safe place and protect her. We can’t run into a battle and leave her alone, unprotected.” Steve looks at Sam, searching for help. “To your left Cap. Wherever my girl goes, I’ll go too.”

“May I suggest hiding her in another dimension or timeline?” Loki steps into the room, eying you warily. “I’m sad you did not invite me to your little arrangement but, I can help.”

“I do not trust that snake,” Bucky grits out. “He’ll betray us and take our girl.” The soldier shoves you behind his back, watching Loki step closer to you.

“I’m no harm, soldier boy,” Loki smirks, dipping his head to glance at you. “I know the name of the enemy. He was the one, you know, I told you about, brother.”

Thor’s face contorts in anger before fear clouds his vision. Loki told him about a powerful being collecting the infinity stones.

“Thanos,” Thor whispers, glancing at you again. “He hates chaos, wants to cleanse the universe. We have to be fast.”

“True, brother. I suggest we use the stone of the master over there and the one that Vision owns. We need as much power as we can get. If it’s Thanos who wants to wipe out your heir’s existence, he’ll do anything, kill anyone to reach his goal.” Loki holds out his hand smiling when you place yours onto his palm. “I’ll protect you, even if it’s only to pay that monster back.

“What now, Dr. Strange? Any plans?” All eyes land on Stephen who nods thoughtfully.

He knows no one will like his plan but he saw the future, and this is the only way…

>> Part 3

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[shreddedparchment]

Pseudo Princess Pt.34

A Little Spell

07/20/2020

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader          Word Count: 6,799

Warnings: smut, language, FLUFF, cute babies, slight angst

A/N: Enjoy! I’ve had fun with this one. As always if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work.

Tags are CLOSED!

Please do not REPOST my work on any other sites or blogs. REBLOGS are welcome!

Spring has awoken in Broklin. The sky is blue once more. Small tufts of cotton clouds fly by overhead as you walk with Maggie in your arms. She’s little, only three months, and aging with the peony blossoms in your gardens.

She wears one in her soft hay colored hair, carefully pinned by her Godmother Natasha this morning.

As she gawks at a flying bird, her chubby baby arms stretched out as if to touch it, your mind has a fleeting thought as you think about Nat, as it does every time you think of her.

What is he not telling me?

You remember it like it were only last night, Steve and Sam racing from your bedroom with a scroll crushed in Steve’s right hand.

He’d come back hours later looking tired and worried for only a moment as he walked into the room and then he’d smiled at you as you sat up, your little girl pressed to your breast as she fed.

He’d laid down beside you and kissed Maggie’s little feet just to hear her fuss a little and then laid with his eyes shut. Thinking things that you wanted but couldn’t know. Wouldn’t know. Still don’t know.

You’d known better at the time than to ask him what all of his rushing around had been about and instead settled Maggie between the two of you after she’d fed and only after he was asleep had you moved her into her cradle.

Steve had wrapped his arms around you in his sleep as you’d moved closer to him and it had chased away any fretting you’d had at the prospect of more trouble.

Despite the fear that had begun to grow in your mind, your worries seem to be unfounded as nothing has happened to alarm you or, really, anyone in the Kingdom.

“Sister!”

The call shatters your thoughts back to this blissful spring day and you turn to see Morgana moving quickly towards you, one hand holding up her pale green dress. The little vines etched along her collar and sleeves stand out in dark green and earthy brown.

“Morgana, your Majesty.” Peter states, moving towards Morgana and give her a quick bow while she too stops to greet him.

“Hello, Peter!” She smiles, then hurries back to you while Peter leaves you two to wait by the garden entrance.

You inspect your work—her dress—worried about the state of the stitching as she flounces about, but it’s holding up very well.

“Morgana, I thought you were in your lessons until the afternoon?” You chastise, eyes narrowed suspiciously as Maggie gasps in excitement, coos, and kicks her legs so quickly that you have to adjust her dress around her little feet. She’s a vision in pale blue to compliment the rosy pink peony in her hair.

Your own dress a stunning yellow, and a ribbon around your waist to match the color of Maggie’s dress.

With a little one, you have had to learn to keep your hair up or tied back. Grandmother had insisted on a braid this morning. Long with peonies also wound through to match your daughter.

For the most part, you don’t understand the fuss everyone has been making over the two of you looking so coordinated but apparently it is a tradition of the kingdom for a Queen and her child to set an example of “unity” . How exactly clothes show this, you have no idea.

“Hello little Maggie.” Morgana gushes then opens her arms to take her.

Handing your daughter over, you adjust her dress as Morgana gets her comfortable.

“Don’t ignore me, Morgana.” You warn her, with love of course.

“I’m not ignoring you.” She huffs. “I’m merely using my beautiful niece to avoid answering the question.”

You laugh. A confession you had not been expecting.

“What are you doing here?” You demand, still chuckling as the two of you resume your walk through the winding hedges of your now wild garden.

All these flowers once grouped with their own species and rigorously kept apart before were now in a truly wild blend of organized chaos.

“I finished early and the Master asked if I would like to proceed to the next lesson or spend the day on my own…” She begins.

“And naturally you decide that the day is better spent with Maggie and I?”

“Of course!” Morgana smiles, tickling Maggie’s little tummy. “Isn’t that right, Princess?”

“You should have gotten a head start on your lessons.” You reason.

“And miss out on this beautiful day? I don’t think so. Besides, my brother-in-law would like to see you. It looks like a meeting.” Morgana says, knowing that you will know what she means. “He sent me down to fetch you, and to take little Maggie back upstairs for her nap.”

“Has something happened?” You panic, stopping to look at her with wide eyes.

Maybe you were getting too comfortable too soon?

“I don’t know.” She laughs. “Father tells me nothing and mother insists that I stay out of all Avenging business.”

“They’re right, Morgana…I’m so glad that you weren’t anywhere near during the battle.” You worry. “Or Shuri. I’m glad she and her brother had to go back home before anything could happen.”

“They could have helped. The Black Panther is very skilled. And powerful.” Morgana reasons.

“He is.” You nod. “But I would have everyone be safe rather than risk the dangers of the castle that night.”

“You make it sound so terrifying.” She tells you, not realizing that you’d left out a chunk of compelling story when you’d recounted the events of the night.

“It was.” You assure her.

“Sister, even if it was scary, don’t you think that all of the Avengers fought for a reason? They all want to protect you. And my brother-in-law fights for more than just you and Maggie. He fights for the freedom of his kingdom.”

She thinks a moment, and smiles. “But mostly for you. You should see the way he watches you and Maggie. There’s a fear in his expression that I don’t understand. Almost a yearning. Even Nat says that she does not remember him ever looking at anyone so.”

“I don’t want anyone fighting for me, Morgana. I want everyone to be safe.”

There must be something in your eyes as you insist because she nods, understanding.

“Where were they?” You move on, eager to forget the night of Maggie’s birth.

“It’s only Steve, Sam, Bucky, and Natasha.” She informs you, making sure you know it isn’t the entire team. “They’re waiting for you in Steve’s den.”

“Can you manage Margaret?” You wonder, waiting to see what she’ll say.

Morgana rolls her eyes, “Of course, I can! Now go.”

With a bite to your bottom lip you quickly lean in and press a kiss to Maggie’s cheek.

She turns towards you as you pull away. Eyes wide and hands and feet flailing and kicking in excitement.

“I’ll see you shortly my pretty girl.” You coo at her then head towards the castle at a hastened pace.

As you pass the gate you move to Peter’s side with a pleading look.

“Will you stay and watch over her?” You fuss, worried about leaving Morgana alone with Maggie. Not that you don’t trust her, but you’re a little more wary now after so many close calls.

“I-” Peter begins, ready to defy you in favor of protecting you. He’s your personal guard!

“Please, Peter. I need to know that I can trust you to protect her if I cannot be around.” You plead.

Peter watches your expression then glances behind you towards Maggie and Morgana.

“Of course, your Majesty. I will protect them both with my life.” He promises, easing the worries in your heart.

You hurry on, but just as you reach the door you look back at your daughter once more and find Morgana helping her wave her tiny clenched fist as she mouths Bye-bye momma! Peter joining them with a small jog.

As he stops beside them, Morgana’s gaze is diverted, and her cheeks fill with a rosy tint.

You return their small wave and allow your feet to carry you faster through the castle towards Steve’s den.

On the second floor you pass Sharon nestled into a small library with her nose in a book.

You stop, warring with your two halves. The one side of you is eager to greet her and ask her to accompany you to this new meeting that you’ve suddenly been summoned for when you’re so often left in the dark about Avengers matters. You’re grateful to her for saving your life and the life of your little girl.

Then there’s the second half. The wife half. The woman within you that remembers the sight of her nestled in against Steve’s chest. The stern set of her jaw when you staked your claim for him and then the feeble attempt at an apology that so clearly had meant nothing at the time.

Your jealousy is moderate now. It doesn’t rear its head like a starving monster anymore, but it’s still there. You are Steve’s and he belongs to you. You’ve rarely felt the need to make it clear that you belong to each other. When you see Sharon being one of those occasions.

With a quick breath, cut short by a determined huff from your gnawed-on lips, you stifle the urge to claim and instead allow the friendlier side to move you into the room.

“Sharon?”

Sharon blinks, searching for you with wide eyes still dazed by her book.

“Oh,” She smiles, rising as she sets her books aside.

She curtsies as you stop before her, hands placed gently at your front as you try to stand the way Nat has taught you. Regal. Or as close to it as you can manage. You’re still unconvinced that you can pull this royalty business off.

You know you’re Queen and you make no arguments about it, but you’re fairly certain that Sharon—and other women like her, Nat included—will always look more the part of nobility than you do.

“Your Majesty, good morning.” Sharon greets, rising and matching your pose but clearly more relaxed.

“Good morning. I hope you’re well?” You begin, hoping the pleasantries aren’t unwelcomed.

“I’m very well, my lady. Thank you for asking.” She smiles again, a bit softer.

“I was wondering, why aren’t you with the others in Steve’s office?”

“I, my lady?” Sharon asks, genuinely confused as she presses her hand to her chest. The pale silk orange dress is elegant but fitting of the weather. The dark purple roses that flow upwards into a cluster in the pattern draw the eye to her bust, just as her hand does.

“I was sent for by Steve just now.” You explain.

“I-I’ve been in here all morning. All night even. It might be possible that they sent for me, but no one knows where I am. This has always been a good place to hide.” She confesses and her smile widens.

“Well, why don’t you accompany me? Whatever schemes they have you will no doubt be an asset. Indeed, I don’t know why they’ve sent for me. I’m…I couldn’t possibly be of much help.” You shake your head, relaxing a little more with every word you speak.

“I think it likely that his Majesty wants to keep you apprised of the events in the Kingdom.” Sharon ponders. “After what happened at King Anthony’s castle, he’d be a fool to keep you in the dark.”

You hadn’t though of that. Steve is summoning you to keep you informed? He never has before.

Once again, your mind is dragged back to the day of Thor’s visit and Sam’s urgent scroll.

You must have gone into a daze while your mind ran with thoughts because Sharon clears her throat, pulling you from your own ponderings.

“Your Majesty?” She checks, wary.

“Sorry.” You smile again. “I’m sorry. Will you come?”

Gesturing towards the door you take a tentative step as you await her choice.

“Of course!” She exclaims, rushing to open the door fully for you.

“You don’t have to-”

“Please.” She states simply, and you don’t refuse her.

The two of you walk together, Sharon a half step behind you—as she should be with you as Queen—in surprisingly comfortable silence.

When you reach the wing that you and Steve live in, you clear your throat, walking a little slower with his den visible at the end of the hall.

“I’m glad you decided to stay a little longer with us.” You tell her quietly.

“As am I, your Majesty.” She smiles. “Seeing you run the castle and the introductions with the court and the people…I hope Maggie won’t turn in her grave, but you do this job better than she ever did.”

“Oh?” You’re not exactly surprised by her statement. Steve has often told you this himself, but to hear it come from two people who loved Margaret the most and knew her the best really speaks volumes.

“Maggie was always focused on the world. It’s good to see someone care about just this Kingdom. It wasn’t in ruins or anything when she was in rule, but it has truly prospered under your care. And your attentions to its people force Steve to also consider those closer to home.

“There will always be an evil out there for us to fight. I think he used to forget those that depend on him waiting right here.” Sharon ponders, not really asking any questions just making observations.

“You’re too kind.” You smile. “It has truly been my honor to serve. To help.”

“Serve?” She asks, confused.

“Isn’t that what we do? Steve and I?” You think aloud. “We are here to provide a service. That service is indispensable. We provide stability and structure to the lives of everyone in Broklin. We were placed here to not only rule, but to help and to take care of those who need us. We are called to serve our people in the best ways we are able.

“There can be no service more important to perform in all the world.” You shrug, as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world.

Sharon huffs a small laugh, not in sarcasm, but surprise.

“What?” You stop, turning to look at her with your hands carefully placed at your front. “What have I said?”

“You truly put us all to shame, your Majesty.” She states, looking into your eyes with a sparkle of sincerity. “There are sovereigns that would say the exact opposite. That it is the duty of the people to serve their King and Queen.”

“And it is.” You agree. “We are a carriage wheel, the people and us. In order for us to carry forward, we all must do our parts. It’s why I chose to marry Steve despite never having known him.

“I love him now, but when I agreed to marry him, I had no idea who he was. My father needed me to be dutiful and I was.” You smile. “We serve the people and they serve us in turn. We cannot have one without the other. Kingdoms fall every day to famine, disease, discontent among the people…one cannot expect to take and take without giving something in return.”

“Yes.” Sharon nods, “I see that now. And I’m sure Steve has seen it too. You’re teaching him well.”

You laugh, finding it silly that you could teach Steve anything that he doesn’t already know.

“Come on, before they grow impatient.”

As the two of you approach the door, you spot Grandmother leaning against the wall just outside the door, her hand on her chest and her eyes shut tight as if she’s struggling with a pain of some kind.

“Your Majesty?” Sharon probes as you slow just outside the door.

“Go on in.” You tell her, “I’ll be right in.”

Sharon nods and joins the others while you approach grandmother, a sudden realization fills you with dread.

Grandmother is old. And as much as you’ve grown used to her care, she will not always be with you.

“Grandmother? Are you alright?” You check, easing closer before placing your hand on her back carefully.

She’s lost so much weight recently that her dresses have begun to fit her loose. You’ll have more made for her.

“Shall I send for a doctor?” You ask, ear growing.

“No.” She says, withered voice shaking with a trembling breath.

“What’s the matter?” You wonder, placing reassuring hands on the sides of her arms.

She looks up at you, her eyes boring into your own and you can see it all in the reflection.

She’s terrified. This old woman, fearless in the face of a full on battle, is scared.

“Will you not confide in me?” You fret.

“No.” She says, eyes narrowed as she considers you and her legs grow stronger. “Not until I see it all.”

You’re confused by her words but try not to dwell on them.

“Let me at least get you a glass of water.” You insist.

“I said no, girl. Get back to your duties and leave me be.” She grumbles and pushes around you, muttering something under her breath as she reaches into one of her hidden pockets and pulls from within it a small vial of glittering powder.

You watch her until she’s out of sight, your mind trying to make sense of what little she said, but you can’t. You never could with Grandmother. Why was she out here to begin with? Had she been part of the meeting up until now?

Inside Steve’s den, you find Natasha sitting on one of the plain seats by his desk, Bucky beside her, arms crossed as he stares at a map spread out across Steve’s desk.

Sam is leaning against the desk, one hand along the edge while he points at a cluster of black iron houses near the corner. Sharon, sits in the chair beside Nat giving the impression that Sam must have given the seat up for her when she entered.

Your husband sits in his large chair behind the desk, his elbow on the wooden arm. His right hand covers his mouth while he taps a finger on the other deep in thought.

All of them turn to look at you as you enter. Sam straightens up, Natasha and Sharon both rise to their feet, and Bucky drops his arms. Steve however is transfixed on the map, eyes blazing with storm clouds as his mind fixates on whatever problem has gathered them all into this room.

“No, please…” You tell the others and they relax, taking up their previous positions.

You edge your way over to Steve and almost on instinct he opens his left arm to greet you beside him, turning his chair before he pulls you into his lap without sparing you a glance.

Normally you might protest the open affection in front of your closest friends but as you sit and he wraps his arm around your waist, there’s a needy weight to his embrace that tells you in this moment he must feel you there with him.

You recognize it and it makes you nervous. Fearful of what is troubling him.

“Is it bad?” You ask, looking only at him.

He takes a deep breath and then releases it slowly but doesn’t utter a word.

“Bucky?” You turn to him and wait as he shakes his head then nods to Sam.

“They’re here.” Sam says, leaning over the map again to point at the same cluster of black iron houses. “In this village. Abandoned long ago. All of the structures are crumbling. Decayed. If they’re not overgrown with vegetation, they’re soggy with mold and moss. Thor says there are at least three dozen soldiers left.”

“Hydra?” You ask, surprised you could find the breath in your body to do so.

“We thought that Captain Danvers had killed Rumlow, but it appears that he escaped before she could finish the job. He’s taken what’s left of their numbers here to regroup and rebuild.” Sam explains.

“Then we go after them.” Sharon says passionately.

“Thor says that rushing in would be reckless.” Bucky says. “They have something there. A weapon unlike any he’s ever seen before. It turns men into mindless slaves with a single touch. It shoots out an energy that he has never seen.

“And there’s no way to guarantee that they would still be there, even if we went now.”

“Where is Thor?” You wonder, looking around as if he might appear form the shadows.

“Searching.” Nat says. “For information on the power they possess.”

“We have to do this carefully. I won’t risk open war. Not with these villages here surrounding them on all three sides and the border on their back. They could slip into the Kingdom to the south and start a war between our kingdoms.” Steve shakes his head. “We’ll take a day, come up with a few strategies. We must move but we must do so correctly.”

“I thought they were gone.” You lament, starting at the cluster of houses.

Your tone finally brings Steve’s gaze to you and he wraps his arm around you more tightly.

“And they are.” He assures you. “This is what’s left of them. They’re weakened and if we do this properly, we might finally be able to eradicate the world of Hydra.”

“Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.” Bucky says solemnly drawing everyone’s eye.

Steve is frowning, his hands gripping the fabrics of your dress above your thigh as he considers his childhood friend.

“Then we’ll rip out their hearts.” He declares before immediately stifling the rage that filled his chest. “We need to take that weapon away from them and then we can kill them once and for all. We can’t wait for Thor.”

Nat gets to her feet and Bucky drops his arms. “We should at least give him a week to return before we attack. We need to know what we’re facing.”

Steve considers this, “I’ll give him three days. It’s all we can afford. Any more time and we may as well send them the numbers to withstand us.

“You and Nat take the rest of the day for yourselves, enjoy each other and tomorrow begin recruiting amongst the guard. Anyone skilled in deceit. They should also be able to hold their own against either of you.”

Nat nods and heads for the door. Bucky hesitates but quickly follows his wife out, leaving the door open.

“Sam, ride for Malibia and see if Tony can come back and whether Lord and Lady Lang are still present at his castle.” Sam nods, then leaves too.

“Shall I reach out to Fury?” Sharon wonders, pushing herself to the edge of her seat.

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “They’re racing after a separate faction of Hydra supporters. We’ll let them do their work. I want you to go to the East tower.”

“Wanda?” She asks, curious but unsurprised. “You want me to train her?”

“I want you to question her.” Steve clarifies. “She and her brother were part of Hydra. They were created by Hydra. If anyone might know what this mystery weapon is, it will be them.”

Sharon rises and rushes out with a curtsy leaving you and Steve alone in his office.

Your eyes dance around the now empty room, stopping on the curtained off corner that had been Margaret’s reading nook.

The jealousy you feel is almost imperceptible. He’s had it sectioned off for so long that you’re certain he did it to either keep you out or shield it from view so that he might move on without being reminded of his first love.

“Are you worried?” He asks, drawing your gaze back down to meet his own.

“Only because I wish this were over.” You shake your head, reaching up to trace the shape of his cheek and then slide your hands into his soft and slightly unwashed golden head of hair. “But it will never be over, will it?”

Steve’s face is serious, pained in a way, but only because he can see your distress. “No.”

His agreement weighs your heart down and you settle into his arms a little sadly.

He wraps you up in them, pulling you so close that you might as well be fused with how he’s got you tucked in against his chest. You shut your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder, tucking it underneath his chin when he adjusts it to rest it against your head.

“Oh, my sweet flower.” He whispers. “I’m sorry that I cannot be normal for you.”

His lament gives you pause, making your heart ache for an entirely different reason.

“Steve…” You push yourself back up, searching for his storm blue eyes which you find full of sorrow. “…I would not want you to be anyone but who you are.”

He considers your words for a few moments while you renew the caress to his head.

“Wouldn’t you prefer it if I were a normal king? No Avengers? No strange enemies with strange abilities?” He wonders. “I know that even my own abilities might be a little troublesome. I know that I can be a little heavy handed.”

“Steve,” You stop him, taking his face in both your hands and turn him to face you. “I would not change one single thing about you. Not your strange addiction to salted pork with that cherry glaze Cook makes. Not the wrinkles around your eyes when you laugh. Not the strength in your body or the smiles that greet me in the morning. Not the love you will always hold for Margaret, despite your declarations to the opposite.”

You drop your voice so that it is low and only for his ears, even though you’re very much alone.

“And most definitely not those heavy hands that pin me to our bed.”

His cheeks flush pink and it makes you so proud to make him blush that you chuckle once.

“I love every inch of you. Yes, I worry but only because I’ve seen you beaten and bloody. I’ve tended your wounds and watched you flinch. I’ve waited at your bedside in fear that you would never wake. I’m afraid that someone will take you from me and I’m not sorry for that. I can’t pretend that this life is not without risk and that very risk might one day take you from me and Maggie. I would wipe the world of evil if I could, but I know that I cannot so, I will worry every day for the rest of my life because I love you.

“That’s not a bad thing.”

Steve sighs heavily, hating your words. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against your chest as his hands trace the shape of your back, rubbing it to give you comfort.

“I wish I could give you a life without strife.” He cries, voice muffled against your breast.

“Oh, my darling, there is no woman, no wife or mother in this world that lives without strife. Perhaps mine is a little more elevated with so much hanging in the balance, as Queen and also the wife of the Captain, but I do not regret my choices. I would gladly marry you and endure all of my hardships over and over again if it meant that I could have this moment. Our daughter safe with her Aunt and you with your arms around me.”

Steve smiles at you, sappy and pure.

“I’ll be careful.” He promises.

You throw your head back and laugh, your hands gripping his shoulders to keep from falling off his lap.

“What?” He asks in humored shock. “What’s humorous in my promise?”

“Just swear to me that you will return to me in a somewhat decent state. One which I can nurse you through and I will gladly wait forever for you.” You can’t expect him to make promises he can’t keep and for him to be careful…well, you know better.

“I love you.” He tells you, voice deep and low.

His sudden declaration sends massive butterflies into the pit of your belly and your heart does a dance. It robs you of breath and you lick your lips and swallow the lump forming.

“Even after seeing me as I gave birth to Maggie? You love me after that?” You wonder, knowing the sight it must have been.

“No woman on this world is stronger or more capable than you, my petal. I could not have done what you did to bring her into being and I will worship at your feet for sacrificing so much to bring her to us.” He gushes, genuine and intense in his expression despite the lovesick flow of his words.

How long will this last? How long will he really love you in this way?

You know it all fades eventually. You’re not a fool. You’ll be glad if you and Steve love each other half as well as Tony and Pepper when you two have been married as long.

He pulls you down to kiss him and you give him what he needs and what you so desperately want. You think back to every time he pulled away from you, despising you for touching him just after you were married. You remember the way he forced himself to consummate, the way he’d drowned out your cries for relief because he wanted to get it over with.

He wanted to be done with you and never could you have imagined that he would hold you so dearly. His lips wrapping themselves along yours, tongue softly probing for entry which you swiftly allow.

“Do you have to get back to work?” You whisper between a kiss, lips wet, eyes hazy with desire.

Steve pulls back to see your eyes and he shakes his head, leaning back in. He runs his tongue along your open mouth as he pushes you up onto your feet only to reach down and hike up the front of your skirt.

He pulls you towards him, hands hooking behind your thighs as he guides you back onto his lap but leaves you standing over him.

His hands disappear underneath the folds of your dress, but you can hear the swish of his pants as he braces himself on the arms of his chair and pushes his trousers down a bit.

His hands caress the length of your leg, from behind your knee to thigh before finding your hip. With one hand he leads you and with the other he lines himself up, the heat of his cock pressing against the soft wet folds of your cunt.

You shiver.

“Tell me you love me.” He begs, needy.

“I love you.” You answer, a breathy whisper as he impales you slowly.

“My sweet…” He groans, yanking you down to kiss him in a fevered passion that you hope he will never forget.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I need to go check on Grandmother.” Your eyes are fixated on the shielded corner of Steve’s den.

You’re not really looking at it, but it’s in your line of sight.

Steve groans, tracing the skin of your bum where you sit, still resting on his lap. Your head is on his chest, your body still wrapped around his. Still full of him though he’s spent after three rounds. You will both be sleeping soundly tonight, so long as Maggie will allow you to do so.

It’s not the custom for you to watch her at night but you insisted and as Queen no one will argue. Especially when Steve is so eager to support you in building a new way of life in the castle.

“She’s ill.” You reason with him, “I found her outside your door nearly fainted. With her age, I’d hate for us to be careless with her heath.”

“Shall I send for a doctor?” Steve asks, hands stopped on your bottom.

“Not yet. I’ll check with her first and then send for someone if needed.” You sit up and make to rise.

Steve’s hands suddenly grasp your bottom tight, fingers digging into your flesh. There’s a worry in it and it makes you look at him in search of what it might be.

“Do you want to see?” He asks you.

You’re at a loss as to what he means, and it must show on your face.

“Behind the curtains.” He explains, then gestures at the spot with a nod. “You were curious once before.”

You look at the spot and try not to feel too hurt or sound wounded by the memory of that day.

“And you were angry with me for it.” You remember.

“No.” Steve says, voice stern and certain. “No, my love, I-I was angry but not because you tried to look at her spot. I was angry because I thought you’d read my book.”

He sits up a bit more, arm wrapped around your waist to keep you in place as he reaches with the other one to grab the red book with the large A embossed on the cover.

“This book holds every account of every mission that we have ever run as a team. It holds details of enemies and their abilities or their motives. It has everything.

“When I walked in that day, I saw you with your hand on it. I saw you reading it.” Steve hurries to explain. “My heart dropped when I realized what it was you were looking at and I lashed out. It wasn’t right of me to do so, but the last thing that I wanted was to have you involved in that world.”

“Oh.” You realize, staring at the book in his hand. “I thought-”

“I will not lie and say that it didn’t have a little to do with Margaret and her space in my den, but mostly I-I was already in love with you and the thought of you and all your purity and goodness, all of your vulnerability exposed to the violence of the world I lived in filled me with a fear that I have never known.

“Even now, only the thought of our little Maggie in danger compares to the terror that fills me when I think of you at the mercy of Pierce’s sword.” He brings his hands up, one on your cheek and the other on the back of your neck. “I would have gone mad if he’d taken you both from me.”

You can’t blame him for the fear. You’d felt it too. Still feel it when you imagine your little one, protected only with your body and you with no way to fight Pierce off.

“We owe Sharon so much.” You tell Steve and he nods.

“I can never repay her for being there when I could not be.” Steve agrees.

Several moments pass in silence as the two of you reflect on what could have been and relish in each other’s presence, bodies pressed so close still, in gratitude for the reality of the outcome.

“So?” Steve continues. “Would you like to see?”

He tosses the red book back onto his desk and carefully helps you up. He pulls your skirts down, helping you fluff them out as they should be before tying the string of his trousers and adjusting his shirt.

With the soft hiss of skin on skin, he takes your hand and pulls you around his desk towards the corner.

He releases your hand and reaches up to unhook the heavy curtains.

As they fall away, it reveals not a reading corner but a remade space with a new seat by the window. A bench with a plush pink cushion, darker pink peonies in the fabric. The dark woods compliment the lighter colors. Around that seat is indeed a bookcase but it’s much smaller than the ones that surrounded it before.

There is also a spinning wheel, a basket of what you can only assume is everything you will need to make your own yarn. There are several small round containers that you recognize as sewing kits. In one sitting open you can see a pair of iron scissors, thick and heavy. A leather pouch, spools of already woven yarn, and a collection of cutting knives for leather should you decide to work with it. There’s a small table against the other wall where a large bookcase had sat before, piled with patches of fabrics for embroidery and a few samples of tapestry fabrics that excite you as you’ve never worked on a tapestry before.

Near that table along the floor is a plump yellow cushion. The design is also feminine but only just with silver and baby blue butterflies. A small pillow, a doll made of rags and another out of wood tells you that this spot is for your little one.

Steve offers his hand once more and you take it, in awe of his reveal.

“I know you like to read so I had some books brought for you, but I wanted this space to be yours and yours alone. Well, until three months ago when Maggie was born, and I had that small space added for her. Do you…like it?” He wonders, watching you as you let his hand go and move to trace the smooth lines of your spinning wheel.

“Like it?” You gasp. “Oh, Steve…”

You burst into tear and cover your face. Why must you be so emotional right now? You want to show him how happy you are!

“Oh, no. Please do not cry.” He pleads, moving to wipe your tears away.

“I c-can’t help it. I’m sorry.” You weep. “I’m just so-so happy.”

Steve laughs, an easy chuckle as he pulls you against his chest.

“Thank goodness.” He kisses your head and holds you until you stop crying.

The walk to grandmother’s is a happy one. You’re excited to spend time in Steve’s den. Not only because he’s given you so many new tools to really make some high-quality products but because this means that you’re officially part of his life. He wants you near him when he works. He’s opened his space up for you and is welcoming you so openly.

After so long spent wondering whether you belonged here at all, you finally have your place. Truly this is where you belong.

A keening cry pierces the cool spring air. The shade of the trees that surround Grandmother’s cottage suddenly seem looming with the clear sound of an animal crying out in protest is cut abruptly cut off.

You stop walking and wait a moment to see if you might hear anything else but when you don’t, you race towards the cottage, in fear for Grandmother’s life.

As you shove the door open, you expect to find the old woman clutching her heart again, on her knees in a heap on the floor.

What you do not expect to find is the old woman in the middle of a large circle drawn onto her floor.

Even now, a strange purple light fades from the circle leaving behind the sight of Grandmother on her knees, a slaughtered mess of black fur in front of her and her hands bathed in blood as she struggles to catch her breath.

“Grandmother?!” You race towards her, stepping into the circle as the light fades completely.

She turns towards you, watching you with pure white eyes. Although she looks at you, her eyes see beyond you. They watch something you cannot see, and you begin to realize that everything that everyone said about Grandmother being a witch had been completely correct and not at all because of her old age and her hermit behavior.

“Grandmother are you alright?” You ask in a panic, realizing her true self while trying to make sense of it with the old woman who just delivered your daughter.

When she speaks, she breathes inward. Her voice escapes as a gasp.

Breathing in. “The worst is yet to come.”

Breathing out. “There will be a power much darker than this world has ever seen.”

Breathing in. “Six are sought by the one who shall wield them. Half will die.”

Breathing out. “Already he makes his move.”

“Grandmother?”

With her eyes still bone white, she seems to finally see you and grasps the top of your arms with such strength that you’re sure her fingers will leave a bruise.

“He will fight harder than he has ever fought before. He will protect them all with his life.”

He? Steve?

“And he will fall.”

[lesbianlotties]

There's gotta be some butterflies somewhere - Sam/Deena - Fear Street (2021)

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson Characters: Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street) Additional Tags: Canon Related, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Canon Lesbian Character, Getting Together, First Love, Best Friends, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluff and Humor Words: 1645

There is a fine line between being two teenage best friends and being an old married couple... At least, that's the case with Sam and Deena.

or, Sam and Deena have been in a relationship forever and absolutely everyone knows... except for them.

It happens all the time.

Josh is the first one to notice, because Sam started sleeping over at their house a little too often, always staying in Deena’s room. In the mornings, Deena would stand by the open door, car keys in her hand and she would wear an expression of frustration and call out “Sam! Come on, we’re going to be late! Why do you take so long to get ready?”

Then Sam would walk out of the bathroom, all ready to go. She would place a kiss on Deena’s cheek, immediately soothing the other girl’s temper, and she’d reply, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I have to make breakfast by myself because otherwise you’d poison us.” Deena would try to protest, but her smile gave her away.

Josh would look away from the scene and quietly follow them to the car, saying nothing about it.

At school, it was more of the same.

Heather approached Deena before class started and invited her to a party. Deena replied, “I’m not sure, I think Sam has a thing on Friday. But I always tell her she needs to relax more, you know? We’ll try to make it.”

The other girl blinked slowly, considered inviting them to her aunt’s babyshower instead, something more their style, but decided to drop the subject.

It happened to Sam too, but she never thought twice about it. Other students would approach her in the hallways and tell her, “Hey, have you seen Deena?” “Hey, can you give this to Deena?” “Can you tell Deena band practice was canceled?” On one occasion even one of the teachers approached her to tell her, “You should get Deena to work a little harder on her assignments, I’m sure she would listen to you.” Never mind that she didn’t even share that many classes with Deena. People made assumptions, she just… didn’t know, apparently.

When they were going out with their friends it was more of the same story.

They were all in line to buy movie tickets, Deena started frantically checking her pockets. “Sam, have you seen my wallet?” She wondered distractedly.

In response, Sam silently opened her bag and pulled out Deena’s wallet for her, which she had previously agreed to carry in her bag. It was something that happened very often. Kate and Simon exchanged a knowing look every single time.

When Deena was driving, it was more obvious than ever.

“Did you get lost?” Sam asked her. “Did you get lost in your own hometown, Deena?”

“I swear they changed the signs!”

“It’s Shadyside Deena, our grandparents saw those old signs.”

“We’re not lost,” Deena insisted.

“Pull over,” Sam instructed her, “We have to ask for directions.”

“Are you crazy? I know where I’m going!”

Then they would turn the car around when they caught sight of the Sunnyvale sign, with Kate and Simon sitting in the back of the car laughing the entire time.

Even when nobody was watching, Sam and Deena’s dynamic was unchanged.

Before going out for a party, Sam arrived earlier to Deena’s house. “We’re going to miss that show I like on History Channel,” Sam complained.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Deena kissed her cheek and added, “But what do I wear?” Silently, Sam picked a good outfit for Deena, who watched her with an easy smile on her face. “Hey, don’t forget your dentist appointment on Monday,” Deena said while getting dressed.

“Right,” Sam sighed, “That cavity is going to kill me. Did you see it?”

“Of course. It’s gross,” Deena replied without hesitation or judgment. “Do you think it’s going to rain today?”

“It’s not supposed to,” Sam shrugged, “But… you never know, there might be nine clouds today.”

Sam’s words immediately caused Deena to burst out laughing, and she couldn’t help but join in. None of their friends understood their million little inside jokes, and sometimes not even they could remember the origins of the joke, but they still laughed until they cried.

There were so many little things too. Sam asking Kate to take her shopping because she was having dinner with Deena’s dad. Deena knowing the answer to what is Sam’s blood type. Sam having a key to the Johnson’s house and occasionally being there even before her friends arrived. Then there were silly, stupid things. Deena being upset an entire morning after Sam didn’t laugh at one of her jokes. Sam burning Deena’s breakfast a little when she was mad at her. Kate and Simon having to intervene because Sam and Deena hadn’t spoken in a day because they had a disagreement about adopting a dog or a cat. That’s without even mentioning what they did in their free time. Josh wasn’t unfamiliar to seeing Sam planting flowers on their garden while Deena mowed the lawn. And Kate Simon didn’t let them live down the day they skipped a party because they had to “run errands.” 

Eventually, one more Valentine’s day arrived, and everyone was forcibly reminded that they were all still hormonal teenagers in their last year of high school. During lunch, Sam and Deena arrived, sat down on the same spots as always, never interchanging their seats, but occasionally exchanging their food, and greeted their friends.

“So, what are we going to do for Valentine’s Day,” Sam asked her friends.

Simon genuinely laughed at the question. “Oh, you know I love you, ladies, but I’m out,” he replied.

“Boring,” Deena said. She threw a balled up napkin at him and turned toward Kate. “What about you? Or are you going to ditch us too?”

“Uh, no, thank you,” Kate grinned, “Not in the mood to third wheel this year.”

Sam and Deena frowned a little, but decided not to overthink it. “But we always do something together,” Sam complained. She pouted a litte, Deena looked at her adoringly, and the other two rolled their eyes. The usual.

“Yeah, but that was before the two of you started dating,” Simon pointed out. “How long has it been now?”

There was a long, tense silence. For the first time, Sam and Deena couldn’t look at each other. While Sam turned tomato red in the face, Deena gripped her fork with a little too much strength. “What?” she scoffed. “We’re not… I mean, we… we’re not dating,” she said, stuttering uncharacteristically the entire time.

“Come on,” Kate rolled her eyes. “It’s been years, hasn’t it? Don’t bother hiding it from us. I’m almost offended right now.”

Sam took a deep breath, and straightened a little, she was visibly freaking out a little. “Guys, it’s true we are not… uh, you know… we aren’t… not like that,” she whispered.

Simon laughed again. “Oh really? So you guys act like an old married couple just for fun?” Kate laughed along with him, and they barely noticed when Deena took Sam’s hand and practically dragged her out of the cafeteria, dropping her hand along the way because somehow it didn’t feel like the most natural thing in the world anymore.

Finally, the two girls made it to the girls bathroom and started pacing along the small space.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” Sam repeated again and again. “How? Why? Since when? Us?”

“Did you know about this?” Deena asked her. “Did they ever tell you something?”

“Yes, Deena, of course they did, I just wanted to embarrass you this entire time,” Sam replied and crossed her arms.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Deena rolled her eyes.

For a moment, they just stood still and quiet. But when they finally looked at each other, their laughter just exploded. The situation was entirely too funny not to laugh about it together. Instinctively, they drifted closer, Sam placed a hand on Deena’s shoulder and they shook with laughter for another minute until they calmed down.

“Oh my God, were we seriously arguing about this?” Deena asked. She noticed Sam’s eyes had watered with all their laughter, so she reached out to delicately wipe a small tear away. She kept her hand on Sam’s cheek.

“Apparently,” Sam sighed. Despite her initial panic, once she found herself alone with Deena again, she was at home.

In contrast, Deena was feeling her heart beating a little faster than usual. “Are we an old married couple?” She asked Sam with a playful smile.

Sam hesitated. Something in her eyes had changed, and Deena was acutely aware of it. “Well, we aren’t old and married,” Sam replied slowly.

“Are we a couple?” Deena asked her, she was noticeably breathless, but Sam heard her perfectly.

“I don’t know,” Sam replied honestly. She was leaning her head to the side a little, making the most of the contact they were sharing.

Deena nodded. Her thumb was instinctively caressing Sam’s cheek. She took a step closer to the other girl. “Is that something you would like?” Deena whispered.

“I mean,” Sam took a deep breath, “I like what we are right now…”

“But?”

This was the moment. Everything could change. For better or for worse. But they trusted each other and they knew each other well enough to hope for the best. So, Sam licked her lips, looked down, and reached out with her fingers for Deena’s belt loops. Then she tugged her a little closer and looked back up at Deena.

“Don’t you ever… think about… kissing me?”

Deen felt her heart skip a beat, and all the air leave her lungs. She moved even closer to Sam, their bodies colliding in a completely new way. She moved her other hand to gently hold Sam’s face between her hands. “All the time,” she finally replied in a whisper before leaning forward and finally kissing Sam.

Kate entered the bathroom twenty minutes later, and found Sam and Deena making out against one of the sinks. Nobody ever believed they hadn’t been dating already.

[abarbaricyalp]

Idk if you are still taking prompts, but you know the vine two dudes chilling in a hot tub 5 feet apart cause they're not gay, and a girl quoting it in a park about two girls in the distance and one of them hearing and going "Actually I am gay" Like that scenario, only involving them fixing the boat? Maybe Sarah quoting it to give Sam shit when she thinks Bucky cant hear and Bucky goes "Wait, no I'm gay" or something, or just the general gist of that. Sorry if this us too specific, I've never sent anyone a prompt before :P

Hello Friend! Thank you so much for sending anything in at all! I know the vine you're talking about, but I couldn't find it on Youtube. (I did find a two day rabbit hole of old compilations though) This was also my first foray into writing Sarah as a fully fleshed character! I was excited to get the practice 'cause I had an idea bouncing around in my head about her and Bucky talking after he wakes up in the Wilson house. I kept her a little more like she had been in my other fics pre-show here. I so wish we got a little more of her!

Feel free, anyone, to send me Sambucky prompts!

The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation

Sarah Wilson loved her brother deeply. The kind of soul crushing love that could only be formed through family, loss, and approximately four thousand brawls around the living room throughout their life. She looked up to her brother more than she could ever imagine looking up to anyone. Even when they were fighting or picking on each other, she couldn’t help but feel a swell in her chest when he came into her line of sight.

That didn’t mean she understood him. In fact, from the age of eight, watching her brother interact with the world had become her go-to pastime. Why did he have to roll every pea around the plate individually before eating them? Why did he and his friends spend seven years socking each other in the arm to prove friendship? Why did he talk to himself in the mirror, even when he knew Sarah or someone else was standing in the doorway?

Sam Wilson was just deeply weird. She had no idea how he had tricked the Avengers, a plethora of bad guys, and half of the media world into thinking he was remotely cool. She saw a news story once that had King T’Challa standing on a platform with Sam and the newscasters talked about how impressive Sam’s suit was. It was unnatural, the effect he had on people.

And in all her years, she never thought she’d see anyone weirder than Sam. But then James Barnes had showed up. It was like a complete reversal of Sam. Sarah was taken in for approximately three hours by his charm and face before she realized he too was deeply, deeply weird.

She justified sitting on the edge of the Paul and Darlene, watching her brother and James Barnes spar off about some dumb trivia fact, by deciding it was an anthropological expedition. The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation. She watched Sam watch Barnes take a long pull off his beer. She watched Barnes kick his feet up near Sam’s legs and then draw them back quickly when a current jolted the boat. She watched Barnes’ fingers tap-tap-tap against the edge of the boat, inching closer to Sam’s shoulder before he chickened out and brought his hand back to his own lap. She watched Sam suggest Bucky take his jacket off, ‘unless you plan on sun blinding me with the robocop arm.’ She watched Sam look away when Barnes did shrug his jacket off.

When she was seventeen and Sam was fifteen, she had found Sam crying in his room, pillow pressed to his face to muffle the noise. They were at the age where going into each other’s rooms uninvited started international conflicts, but Sarah, who watched her brother intently, felt like she knew what was going on. So she let herself in through their Jack-and-Jill bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Sam didn’t stop crying, not even to yell at her to get out, so she sat on the end of his bed and rolled a baseball under her foot for a while. Finally, she’d said, “You don’t have to tell Mom and Dad, y’know.”

Sam had just about wailed and bit the corner of his pillow to stop himself.

“That’s gross, stop it,” Sarah ordered and pushed Sam’s shoulder back enough to yank his pillow free and then reached over to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “I should make you do the laundry this week so I know I’m not touching your snot germs,” she teased softly.

“How did you know?” Sam hiccuped out. Tears were still brimming at his eyes, but they didn’t fall.

“I’m your older sister. I made you. Like a doll. You think there’s something about you that I don’t know?” she joked. And when the tears did spill over his long lashes, she sighed and pulled him closer to her side. “I just know the way you interact with that boy from the basketball team ain’t just friendly.”

“Jesus, do you think he can tell?” Sam asked and she could hear the mortification in his voice.

“Sam, he’s a freshman in high school. The only thing he knows is that he’s scared of everything too. No one’s paying that much attention to you.”

“Screw you,” Sam muttered.

“What’re all these tears for you if you didn’t make a move and get shot down?”

“God, Sarah, can you not say things like that?”

“Watch your mouth,” Sarah warned with no heat in her voice. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong. I’m not leaving until you do.”

“I just…” Sam sat up and worked his jaw for a while. His chin dimpled and his eyes watered but he managed to control himself. “I’m scared, Sarah. I’m scared of never being in love. Of having to leave if I am. I’m scared to say something and I’m scared not to say something. I’m so scared of...losing any of it.”

“Sam,” Sarah sighed and pulled Sam into another hug. “You’re fifteen. You’re not supposed to be in love yet. You don’t have to think about any of that. You just have to focus on passing Geometry, alright? Mom’ll whoop your ass more for failing than anything else.”

“I have a B+, that’s not failing!” Sam snapped. He kept his face against her shoulder for a second long before he sat up and wiped his tears away. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Who am I gonna tell? I told you, my friends don’t like you as much as you think they do.”

“Your friends like me more than they like you,” Sam shot back and he almost sounded normal.

Sarah smiled softly and patted Sam’s cheek. “I won’t tell Mom or Dad. Of course not. That’s for you to do. But--”

“I’m always going to tell them when you sneak out the window.”

“No! Sam! You can’t! You owe me now!”

“Going to field parties is not the same thing!” Sam said in a shriek as Sarah leaned over to pinch his sides. They grappled for a second before Sam managed to push Sarah off the bed.

“You owe me,” she reminded him as she walked back to the bathroom.

Sam wiped his eyes again and nodded. “Sure, Sarah. I do.”

Sam almost had the same look on his face now. Like there was something he wanted to reach for that he thought was too impossible to hold. The Older Sister Instinct to Antagonize into a Solution kicked in.

“Two bros, chilling on a boat, five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay,” she sing-songed. Sam looked mortified again but masked his face into something more irritated with a roll of his eyes when Barnes looked over at him.

“Ignore her. It’s this old video--” Sam started.

But Bucky interrupted to say, “Actually I am gay,” as he looked back over at Sarah. “Sorry if I got your hopes up,” he added with a grin that really did get the hopes up.

“What?” Sam asked and Sarah, ever watchful, could see the beer bottle shaking in his hand.

“What?” Bucky repeated innocently.

“He said he’s gay,” Sarah clarified.

“Thank you, Sarah,” Sam ground out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Bucky snorted. “When would I have said anything? ‘Sorry for ripping your wings off and kicking you off of a hellicarrier, by the way I’m gay.’?”

“You did what?” Sarah asked.

“‘Sorry for claiming I didn’t bomb the UN only to be reverted back to the assassin who would have done that and then fighting you again. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Thanks for saving my life. Sorry about the giant undersea prison. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘There’s an imminent battle with weird ass space dogs that want to eat our faces. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Sorry about Tony Stark, whose life I kind of ruined. Lovely funeral. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘I’m in the middle of being pissed at you about the Shield. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Maybe don’t take me rolling through a field of flowers. It does things to me ‘cause I’m gay.’ ‘John Walker’s fucking insane. I’m gay, but definitely not for this bullshit.’ I mean, come on, Sam.”

“Flowers?” Sarah asked.

“Besides, why would you care? I don’t make it a habit of telling straight guys I’m into guys.”

“You don’t seem to make a habit of telling many people that,” Sarah pointed out. “I googled you. Nothing suggesting that came up.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’m a guy from the 30s. It was trained out of me.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sarah said quickly. “Back up away from that because we’re not gonna try to Oppression Olympics our way through our histories. Did you just say Sam was straight?”

“Sarah!” Sam hissed.

“Sure. I mean, I saw him with Romanov. Hill. He has Tinder on his phone.”

“Samuel Thomas, you better not,” Sarah warned lightly. “You’re better than that.”

“He’s a lady-killer.”

Sarah snorted and had to bring her hand up to her face. “He definitely is not. There has been no lady-killing on his end for a long time.”

“Sarah!” Sam tried again.

“You explain it to him then. Mr. 30s is gonna need the long way round explanation.”

Sam sighed and dragged his hand over his face. “Dammit. Fine. I’m not straight either, alright? I’m...bi, or something. It’s been a while since I’ve had to think about it.”

“What?” Bucky asked, not unlike Sam had.

“He said he’s bisexual. Interested in both parties. Swings either way. Hit a homerun and then hasn’t really swung since.”

“Sarah, Jesus Christ,” Sam groaned.

“What?” Bucky asked again.

“I was engaged. To a man,” Sam said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky asked, clearly missing the irony.

“Oh, it was inconvenient for you but I had plenty of opportunities, huh?” Sam asked. “Ms. Tell-It-All over there wasn’t joking. I haven’t swung any direction in a while. Not since before I met Steve. My fiance died. And then it never came up.”

Bucky blinked at Sam. He kept bringing the bottle halfway up his body and then setting it back on his leg without ever taking a drink. “Fuck, Sam, I’m sorry,” Bucky said, which was not what Sarah was expecting and it clearly wasn’t what Sam was expecting because Sam finally moved closer to Bucky on the bench.

“What for? You didn’t do anything. This time.”

“Yeah, but if I’d known you were into me too, I woulda kissed you in Germany.”

“Oh, I am so not into you,” Sam denied. “And I wouldn’t have our first kiss ruined by immediately running into the government’s roving show monkey.”

“That’s the worst,” Bucky agreed and also finally moved over on the bench until they were pressed thigh to thigh. “Tell me how much you don’t like me again,” he challenged.

“I can’t stand you,” Sam answered and brought his hand up to Bucky’s jaw.

Sarah couldn’t fight down the grin that came to her face and turned to prop her feet on the pier, back to Sam and Bucky. Just this once, she didn’t need to watch her brother to understand him.

Read on AO3 here!

[hoboal87]

Carry On

Pairing : Sam x Reader, Platonic!Dean x Reader

Summary : One year after defeating Chuck, Sam and Dean are still hunting, but you’ve quit the life. When the boys take a vacation that quickly turns into a hunt, none of you expect it to change your lives forever.

Characters : Y/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, mentions of Bobby, Jody, Donna and the Girls

Word Count : 3.1k (I tried to keep it below 3k, but...😕)

Warnings : SPOILERS FOR 15X20, Angst, Feels, Fluff (it gets a little gross at the end), A Sprinkling of Pre-Smut, Pregnancy

A/N : This will keep the canon of the finale, and takes place during and after 15x20, but with an added reader insert. This was written as a sequel to “The Tie” but can be read as a stand-alone.

A/N 2 : This is my entry for @negans-lucille-tblr “6k Roll the Dice Challenge.” My prompt is “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace,” which is bolded.

No Beta, all mistakes are my own.

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You pull another book down from the library wall; everything has been relatively quiet since Jack took over Heaven, Rowena has put a leash on the demons, the only monsters you and the boys had to worry about were run-of-the-mill, so to speak. Adjusting to this new life is easier than you thought it would be, using the last year to learn that without the necessity to hunt, you and Sam were finally free to live your own lives. After Chuck was rendered powerless, you decided to give up hunting for good. Sam won't, you know that, Sam and Dean had been hunting their whole lives, but you were thrust into the life.

You make your way back towards your shared room with Sam, twirling the small diamond ring on your finger, passing Dean’s along the way. You peer inside, glad to see that the once mass trove of empty beer and whiskey bottles were gone. Sure, there’s still a few bottles strewn throughout the room, but nothing like it was before. In the months following Cas’ death, Dean had been a shell of himself, drinking himself into an early grave. He never told you or Sam exactly how Cas summoned the empty, or why it took him along with Billie. Dean always kept himself bottled up, until he would explode, letting his grief out by way of yelling and screaming. Cas’ trench was usually hanging in the corner, but it wasn’t there now, Dean must’ve taken it with him. Dean was still in pain, that much was clear.

Sam and Dean are off at some pie fest, and you opted to stay behind. You waved the boys off, asking Dean to eat a pie just for you. Sam and Dean needed this; brother time. It was something that rarely happened since you joined them over five years ago, even before you were with Sam, you, Cas or Jack were always tagging along. You saw it as the perfect opportunity to take some time for yourself as well, figuring out where you and Sam would go from here. Sam talked about going back to school, finishing his degree and applying to Law School again, he even had you buy him books on LSAT prep. You talked at length about taking the next steps in your relationship, you couldn’t ever get legally married, but you starting planning a ceremony anyway. Before Chuck was gone, you were content to just be, never needing more, afraid that it would be ripped out from under you the minute you let your guard down.

As you settle into your and Sam’s bed, book in hand, you feel as the weight that’s been sitting on your chest has finally lifted, you can breathe. It's been years since you've been able to truly relax, and as much fun as a pie fest sounded, you wanted to stay at the bunker, taking comfort in your and Sam's shared room. They’d only been gone a few days, but you already missed Sam terribly, pathetic, you know. Never in your life would you have imagined wanting and needing someone like you did Sam. The next morning you wake up to a text from Sam. The brothers mini-vacation quickly turned into a vampire hunt, a nest John had hunted years ago. The boys could handle it, you know that much, it's a milk run compared to everything they've fought over the years. Be Safe, Love You. You responded and went on with your day.

Sam always keeps you in the loop when he and Dean go on a hunt without you, providing you with a source of comfort knowing that they’ve killed the bad guy or solved the mystery. But now, they’ve been silent for too long, a nest of Vamps shouldn’t take more than a few days, and you start to worry. You’re heading towards the garage, determined to track down Sam and Dean, and lay it on thick about how worried you were when they went silent. You’re about to open the door to the garage when it swings open and Sam’s long body fills the frame. It startles you at first, even causing Miracle to bark in surprise. You throw your arms around Sam, all anger gone now that he’s back home with you.

“Don’t ever do that again!” You scold Sam. “You know how much I hate it when you and Dean stop responding.” You want to be mad, but you’re so focused on the fact that Sam’s back home with you again, that nothing else seems to matter. “If you’re gonna keep hunting you have to keep me in the loop,” you mumble.

Sam’s body stiffens against your touch. It takes him a minute, but he reciprocates your hug, pulling you tight against him. You stand there, waiting for some smart remark from Dean, normally barking at the two of you to get a room, but there’s nothing but the echo of the Impala’s engine filling the air. You try to pull away from Sam, but his grip around you only tightens, this hunt must have been more difficult than he or Dean anticipated. Head pressed against Sam’s chest, you can hear his heart thumping loudly and rapidly. Dean would never let you and Sam hold on to each other as long as you have.

“Sammy?” You whisper, trying to pull away again. Sam’s grip finally loosens, but his hands don’t leave you as you take a small step back. Your eyes travel upwards, finally landing on Sam’s face, his eyes are bloodshot and puffy, almost as if he has been crying. “Sam? What’s wrong?”

Sam shakes his head as tears fill his eyes.

“Where’s Dean?” You ask as you watch Sam slowly break down. His head nods towards the Impala, and you pull away completely from Sam’s embrace.

You run towards the Impala as fast as your legs can carry you, a swing open the back door, hoping to see Dean’s shining emerald eyes. Tears blur your vision faster than you can comprehend what you’re seeing. Dean’s lifeless body lays in the back seat, all color drained from him. You scan him desperately, waiting for some kind of sign that this is all a cruel prank, that he and Sam were trying to get one over you for not coming with them on this hunt.

But, there’s nothing.

You scream out, falling to your knees, Dean was just as much your brother as he was Sam’s, he was your best friend, and now, he’s gone. Your cries fill the otherwise silent garage, he can’t be dead, not like this, not on some vampire hunt, something he’s done a hundred times before. Not when you know that he was looking to settle down, find some normalcy, or at least normal for him. He deserved to live, he didn’t deserve to die at the hands of a monster.

Dean wasn’t going to be there when you and Sam got married, when you told Sam about the baby you were carrying. God, how were you going to tell him that? Dean was going to help you surprise Sam, as soon as they came home, he was going to start dropping hints, see how long it took Sam to figure it out. But now, you stared at his body, tearing streaming down your face, you couldn’t stop crying if you wanted to. Sam’s strong arms wrap around you, holding you close to him, and you both sit on the floor, unable to do anything but mourn the loss of the elder Winchester.

Through your sobs, you can hear Sam trying to offer you some comfort, assuring you that he went down saving the victims. You could barely process anything he was saying, and if this is how you felt, you can’t even begin to imagine how he feels. Dean was the only real family that Sam had left, there had to be a way to get him back.

“No, baby,” Sam murmurs in your ear through his tears, “I promised him. No bringing him back.” You didn’t realize you had said it out loud. “He wants us to keep going, he wants us to live.”

Three days later you’re surrounded by all the family you’d gained through the boys. Jody, Donna, Claire, Bobby and Charlie plus too many people to keep track of. You and Sam had already given Dean his proper send-off, dividing his ashes between the graveyard where Mary and John were buried and keeping the rest for yourselves. Jody told the story of the first time she’d met the brothers over ten years ago and how she’d come to think of the boys as surrogate sons. Claire talked about the time she and Dean went mini-golfing and how offended he was when she didn’t understand his Caddyshack references. The bunker was full laughter, it was Dean told you he wanted all those years ago.

You and Sam couldn’t stay in the Bunker after that. You’d left it open to all hunters, you’d still come back occasionally, but it was no longer home. You and Sam packed up most of your and Dean’s things, fitting as much as you could into the Impala, knowing that the two rooms would always be off limits to future hunters. Sam nearly slides into the passenger seat when you leave, and you can see it hitting him all over again. Dean’s gone.

You drive around the country for a few weeks, unsure of where to make your new home. Neither of you ever had a real home before moving into the Bunker, and you were the only family you had left now. You settle in Sioux Falls, Jody and the girls were there, Donna was close enough, and if need be, you could be back in Lebanon in a matter of 5 hours.

You find a small house close to where Bobby’s used to be, it is still a salvage yard, but Bobby’s house is long gone. As the weeks pass you don’t know how much longer you can keep your pregnancy hidden from Sam. Every time you try to tell him, it feels wrong; you are both still grieving the loss of Dean, and Sam has fallen into a deep depression. You have Jody take you to your doctor appointments, and she scolds you for not telling Sam, but when she drops you at your new home, and sees the current state of Sam, she backs off.

At your next appointment, she laughs and cries with you when you learn that you were carrying a boy, Dean. When you first told Dean that you were pregnant, he immediately insisted that the newest Winchester should be named after him, “boy or girl!” He insisted, “I’m named after a Deanna.”

“I think the world only needs one Dean Winchester,” you retorted playfully. Now, it seems the perfect way to carry on Dean’s legacy.

When you leave the doctors, you finally realize how obvious it is that you’re pregnant, your stomach rounding out perfectly under your shirt. You’re almost insulted that Sam hasn’t noticed your ever-growing stomach and the extra pounds you’ve put on over the last month, but he hasn't been himself since Dean died. You hadn’t been intimate with him since you settled into your new house, and he spends most of his day sleeping or in a fugue-like state.

Jody insists on taking you shopping for baby supplies, and by the end you’ve got a shopping cart onesies, blankets, something called a diaper genie, and many other things you didn’t even know you needed. As you walk through the store an iron-on name display catches your eye, and you make your way towards it. The names are written in large cursive lettering, and you hope that you can find the right one. You nearly squeal when you do, and find a plain onesie to attach it to.

You’re glad that the baby store carries labeless bags, especially when Sam is up and about when you get home. He looks good today, he’s slightly sweaty, and you know that he left the house and went for a run. He greets you with a quick kiss, a sheen of sweat covering his face, and makes for your room. He eyes the bags in your hands, but doesn’t say anything, and a few minutes later you can hear the shower running. Thank God, you sigh and take the bags into an empty room, Miracle following closely behind you. You set the bags down in what will be baby Dean’s nursery, Jody’s right, you think, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.

You find the onesie and the iron-on decal, you place it in the center and carefully attach the decal. After letting it cool you tuck it into a small gift bag. You hear the shower turn off, and make your way back into your bedroom, placing the bag on your bedside table, waiting for Sam to exit the bathroom. You can’t help but stare at him appreciatively when he opens the door, a towel wrapped around his waist. You’re suddenly very aware of how long it's been since you’d been with him. Sam catches you eyeing him, and smirks, sending a jolt straight down to your core. You missed this, not just the sex, but how he takes charge with you, his domineering presence making you melt. He leans over you, and places a tender yet eager kiss on your lips.

You reach for the towel, letting it slide onto the floor as Sam deepens the kiss, and start to work him over in your hands. Sam groans at your touch, and starts to pull at your shirt, pulling his face away just long enough to rid you of it. Sam’s lips are back on yours just as quickly as they were gone. His hands palm at your breasts, and you moan into his hands reach into the overflowing cups, you really loved your pregnancy boobs, but your bras were doing very little to keep them in place. Sam’s hands travel to your back, and undos your bra, letting your breasts fall free. Sam finally opens his eyes when his hands land on your protruding stomach and takes a few steps back.

He quickly pulls on a pair of sweatpants as you pull your shirt back over your head, trying you best not to cry as he starts pacing the floor of your bedroom. You wait for him to say something, anything; you weren’t trying when you realized you were pregnant. You’d just gone off your birth control, and everyone told you it would take at least a few months for your body to get back to its natural cycle. You both knew it was possible but figured you’d have at least 6 months before really actively trying for a baby.

Sam’s face is almost unreadable; you can’t tell if he’s happy or mad, if he’ll tell you it’s too soon, that he’s not ready. He opens and closes his mouth multiple times, as if he can’t figure out what to say. If Dean were here, he’d probably knock him upside his head, telling him this exactly what he’s always wanted.

“How– why–” Sam stammers as you move to the edge of the bed. “Are you– You’re pregnant.” He says it almost as if it’s a question and you nod your head. “How long?” There’s almost an accusation in his voice, you’re sure it’s not intentional, but it doesn’t make you feel any better.

“18 weeks,” you murmur, trying to hold back your tears. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but it’s– it never seemed to be the right time. When you and Dean–” Sam winces at the mention of Dean’s name, you hadn’t said it out loud in almost a month, not since you left the Bunker. “I found out right before you left, I was going to tell you when you got back. But… after… I was afraid that you’d say it wasn’t the right time. That it was too soon.”

“It is too soon,” Sam mutters under his breath, you’re sure it’s not meant to be malicious, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “You said it would take at least 6 months.”

“It’s different for everyone,” you offer, as Sam runs his hands through his hair, still pacing in front of you. “Please, Sam, can you sit down? You’re freaking me out.” Sam moves to the edge of the bed, and sits down next to you.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Sam whispers, eyeing your belly. “I don’t know how– I don’t know how to be a dad.”

“Yes, you do,” you grab his hand, and place it on your belly. “Dean taught you everything you would ever need to know.”

Sam smiles sadly, “I ever tell you about the night I left for Stanford?” You shake your head. “Dad and me, we got into this huge fight. So of course, Dean steps in– gets between us, attempts to calm us, but we were both just– just too fucking stubborn to listen.” He removes his hand, focusing down on them as he fidgets. “When dad said don’t come back, I called his bluff, and I was– I was so pissed at Dean, I thought he was taking Dad’s side, that I didn’t even say bye to him. I didn’t have it myself to go with grace. I walked away from him, the only family that I had, and I regretted it for years. I- I feel like he should be the one here, that- that we’re moving on too quickly.”

“Dean, he– he wouldn’t want you, us, to live like this, we owe it to him to keep fighting, to live our lives. I know how much you miss him,” a tear slips from Sam’s eye. “I miss him too, but you know what keeps me going everyday?” Sam shakes his head, and you take his hand in yours again, and place it back on the swell of your belly just as little Dean decides to kick for the first time. The smile on Sam’s face is instant, you can’t stop the happy tears from falling as Sam shifts in front of you, and lays his head on your swollen stomach. “Our son.”

Sam cries, truly cries for the first time since the day he brought home Dean’s body. You hold him against you, he’s been so pent up for the last 3 months, bottling up his emotions, he needs this, you both do. You’d been so focused on the baby growing inside of you never realized that you hadn’t realized that Sam had never come to terms with Dean’s death.

“It’s a boy?” Sam asks as his cries cease. “We’re having a son?”

“We’re having a son,” you nod, and hand Sam the gift bag still sitting on your bedside table.

Sam opens the bag, and you smile as he pulls out the green onesie, his eyes lighting up as he reads the lettering.

“You’re sure?” He questions.

“The world lost one Dean Winchester, let’s give it another.”

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[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|ten.

chapter ten: aconite 

↳ flower meaning: [beautiful flower, poisonous] be cautious 

chapter summary: reasons to love, reasons not to and conversations that should be held. 

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: it’s slightly angsty, slightly fluffy, the chapter begins at some point but will not be at that point, you’ll see

word count: 10.2K

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nine: in which we get to know who Clark is

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Hey guys! So as you might have noticed I took a break, school has been super demanding and honestly I wasn’t as eager to write this, kinda lost motivation to write perennial because it got too demanding and honestly, well you know it... But I’m back on track! I hope you like this chapter, it’s slightly different. 

Sometimes life is ironic, like winning the lottery after you die, or meeting the love of your life and finding out they’re married, or rain pouring down on your wedding day. 

Ironic by Alanis Morissette had been the first song that had played when they’d arrived to that bar, James remembered. 

Ironic. 

But the most ironic thing to y/n at least was Dancing Queen being sung in the background by two—no, three drunken girls, the bright notes buzzing, as they were too boozed up to hit any kind of decent note or any kind of lyric. It was ironic, as y/n was trying to hold back the tears as she rushed through the dancing crowd, a very unaware crowd, that was sweating and dancing and cheering and singing to the beaming to the cheerful song as she tried to swim her way through to finally get outside. 

Y/n knew Tom and her had never been fine. It just wasn’t a word in their relationship vocabulary. It was usually chaos. Like what it felt at that precise moment. She knew that Tom and her were chaos, that was true. But this. 

She couldn’t breathe. 

It was something she already knew would happen, eventually, though it’s stupid to walk into a relationship knowing you’redoomed.  It must have been a figment of her imagination. What she had seen. And on her birthday. Her very own birthday. 

But it wasn’t. 

She hadn’t imagined it. 

But what exactly had led to the chaos? Why had it come so easily? Everything had been particularly lovely. 

But of course, she knew that the fact she was crying outside a stupid bar trying to catch her breath, as she could still hear the faint music from the inside was no coincidence and was no surprise. Her sorrow had had a beginning and this chaos had been building up since James’ arrival, this was the ending she definitely didn’t want. 

Not that it had to do with her brother per se, but it came from that moment. Or maybe she was just trying to blame it on someone else rather than on Tom. 

She did blame it a bit on James. 

“Y/N, here you are,” James said as soon as he had walked out of the bar. “It’s—“

“I don’t want to hear it right now,” she stated before looking up to see her brother. “I know it, James—“

“Y/N—“James wanted to calm her down. “I” 

“I know, you told me so-”She snapped. “I fucking know that. Go and search for your fucking boyfriend that’s the only think you care about-” 

Clark had walked out as if he knew he’d be mentioned. Clark had arrived days before, apparently James announcing his engagement hadn’t exactly been to share it, but rather a warning to y/n. 

“Y/N, are you alright-” Clark had tried to ask. 

“No, get out of my face, I need to… Where the hell is Emma?” Y/N didn’t mean to snap at him but she couldn’t care any less. 

“It wasn't him,” Clark had tried to say. 

But it had been. However, y/n guessed she knew what he meant. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” she said. “Could’ve been any other day but no, everyone fucking decided to ruin my damn birthday, I didn’t even care about it! I just—Need to leave.” 

“But I’m sure Tom—“

And even though y/n knew it wasn’t... it felt...it had hit too close to a feeling that she was too familiar with. A deja-vu if one must say. A nightmare that she had once forgotten. 

Of course, nobody did understand why she had reacted that way.

Correction, they did. They would expect her to react that way because what she’d seen had been hell. But they didn’t understand what she truly felt. Maybe Sam, probably Sam. Who had seen her all those years back, way too long ago. Yet it seemed like just yesterday. But Sam had seen a very different y/n back then...Not stronger but a y/n that kept her feelings. Not like this, running away from it, wasn’t y/n supposed to be stronger now? 

He guessed that reliving it wasn’t easy, especially by what came afterwards. There was a slight difference this time, however, huge difference, actually. 

Tom did run after her, and he was probably still searching for her.  

“You don’t get it,” y/n said. “I—I need—It just felt—It felt just like that time.” 

James saw Tom rushing out of the bar, too. He pitied Tom for once this week. 

This wasn’t Tom’s fault… allegedly. Technically, it wasn’t. Now, if you look at the background of course he was to blame and he was an idiot, but this was something that James… could understand. He could, in a way, team up with Tom. 

James knew this would eventually happen. This chaos was ticking and it was only a matter of time till the chaos exploded. 

Relationships are complicated, but they’re bright most of the time. When two people are in love what else can you do about it?

James knew it, love was a bitch and love can make us do impossible things. Some people often confuse love with possession or love with passion or love for a caprice. James was particularly scared y/n would confuse love with a memory. 

Love shouldn’t hurt. That’s why he was probably too worried about y/n. And too angry at Tom for making a fool out of his sister. He, however, was impressed by that. But not really since James knew that from a very young age y/n was stupid enough when it came to Tom. But to make a fool out of y/n when she was the one to almost usually keep her sanity? 

James was impressed by how easily it was for Tom to make y/n go stupidly crazy when it came to him. Even now, he had been so impressed by his sister’s stupid infatuation. James did, however, like that Tom managed to get that smile he hadn’t seen in a while.  But she looked very stupid while at it. 

Tom was an idiot, too. Y/N also managed to make Tom the most stupid man on the planet. Not that he needed help with that, though. 

However, just as fast as Tom could make y/n smile he could be just as fast to break her heart. Most of the time he didn’t mean it, and James was sure Tom didn’t mean to this time. 

It’s the backstabbing disadvantage Tom had for being an idiot. 

James had been one of the few people who had seen the true nature of their relationship. He had indeed noticed Tom was so foolishly in love with y/n from an early beginning and he had been the one to point it out when she was just a kid. He wished he hadn’t because the moment y/n had heard him say those words, she had turned into a very stupid little girl. 

He had, however hinted it out to Tom, several occasions, that he did notice. 

“Y/N looked pretty, huh?” He had asked once after seeing the boy blush. 

“Breathtaking much, Tom? Please close that mouth.” 

“You and y/n looked awfully good together in those pictures from prom.” 

“Stop staring at my sister, eyes up here buddy.” 

James did notice. Tom had even once told James about it. In his own way. 

“I don’t actually hate your sister, not really.” 

But he didn’t quite understand why they acted like that. Why had they been so full of pride to admit they were in love with each other? How bad would it be for both of them to admit that their eyes followed each other? Why did it hurt them so badly to admit they made each other blush and smile? 

James had seen it after y/n came back from Rome, from both sides. Y/N would hum songs, Tom would be smiling more. 

They’d be talking. Not fighting. Even laughing together. 

And James had seen that this week, and he had been proven wrong. They truly were in love, even after all, even after everything. He could see them both, trying to fight for each other, the simplest of things he’d seen like Tom pushing y/n’s hair back if she was reading the script and it bothered her sight, or y/n gently squeezing Tom’s arm when she saw he was nervous about directing. Or both of them giving each other a look, with probably an inside joke of theirs or as if they were speaking with only their sight and then looking away and smiling to themselves. 

They were in love, and James knew it. James knew love. 

Love for him was Clark. 

His damned secret, kept for too long from y/n. He would’ve kept him a secret for longer, not because he was ashamed, and not because he didn’t like him. But because… Clark was something so personal for James and sharing him meant losing their intimacy. 

Clark and James were fine by themselves, they didn’t need anyone intruding in their relationship. 

Clark is the love we all dear and yearn for, the kind of love you only see in movies in the background, nor even the main characters, just the one perfect couple that’s always in the cafe, quietly smiling at each other. The kind of love that’s cozy, and that though it may be troubled sometimes, it’s truthful. The one love you never want to give up.  

He’d seen the way Tom looked at y/n, it reminded him of the way Clark looked at him. 

Maybe that’s why he wanted to side with Tom this time. 

James was getting married and though it might had come to a surprise to y/n, he knew that if he were to tell Tom, Tom wouldn’t be surprised at all. 

Tom had introduced Clark to James. Maybe he owed him for that.

“This guy, I swear, he’s the perfect catch for you, you’re gonna thank me one day, maybe on your wedding day,” Tom had said with mischief. 

“You know you don’t have to introduce me to every gay guy my age you meet,” James had sassed. “Besides, where did you meet him—?” 

“Golfing, his dad—“

“Oh, he golfs? Hard pass, I hate guys who like golf,” James had cleared. “Pretentious idiots.” 

“Hey!” Tom had frowned, “no, but he doesn’t golf, he hates it, but his dad dragged him along so that’s why I think he’s perfect for you! I swear I had two words with the guy and I—“

“No.” 

“I already gave him your number.” 

He had hated Tom at that point but… he guessed he was very thankful for that and that’s why maybe he was having such a hard time trying to convince himself that Tom wasn’t meant to be for y/n, because if Tom had been so right about Clark, how wrong could he be about y/n? 

James wanted y/n to have a Clark. And though, he had initially loved the idea of Tom and y/n, he now saw how it could end up so badly if they didn’t get rid of the baggage, which was unmistakably very heavy for both of them to ignore. It's baggage that’s been built from years now. 

Baggage that James and Clark didn’t have, because they always talked it out. Baggage that had shown up at that very particular night. 

But he had told y/n about it, he had warned her on his very first day in LA. 

“You’re getting married, oh my god,” y/n had said for what James was sure was the hundredth time. And she had been even more excited when she’d learned he’d be coming. 

“Yes, can we move on—“

“No!” She stopped him. “Why do you want to move on?” 

“Because—“he couldn’t quite explain it. Clark was his. He didn’t have to say anything else. 

“James!” 

“The same reason as to why you didn’t want to tell me about Tom,” James said.

“So you have baggage?” 

“Not—“James closed his eyes. “When you were—Back in Rome.” 

Y/N watched him. “Oh, because—it’s,” y/n understood about it. Love is between the people in love and that’s it. 

“Or—no, no, look, it’s—“James sighed. “I’m—it’s my thing you know?” 

“I’m your sister.”

“It’s not about not sharing it with you,” he rolled his eyes, “it’s about keeping him to myself, you know? To be lucky enough to know what we have.” 

“But—Clark? I thought you—I didn’t know—You said you hated the guy!” 

James glared at his sister waiting for her to see the irony. 

“No, my case is different,” she pointed out. “Tom and I-- well… You said you hated him!” 

“Well, I lied alright? I just never wanted to admit—I mean you knew I was dating him, why does this come as a surprise?” 

“Because you— hated him?”

“I didn't. I just didn’t want to admit that I fell in love with someone Tom introduced me to.” 

She looked away. “See? He’s not that bad. I mean he—he introduced you to him, he's not as bad.” 

“I know he isn’t,” James agreed. “But you have to talk to him.” 

“Everything was simpler when we pretended to hate each other,” y/n had said, melancholically staring at the ceiling as she had a flower pressed to her chest. “Maybe I—understand it, spreading it out is difficult.” 

James rolled his eyes. “Why is it so hard for you to tell him that you’re not okay?” 

“Because I feel like he knows already,” she admitted. “But we're trying to pretend we are  okay, so we… I don’t know, fake it till you make it.”

“Y/N—“

“I’m kidding, I mean—I guess we haven’t really had time to talk, we—We already kind of talked the Timmy thing which—“

James could tell y/n was the one who didn’t want to talk, they were very much alike in that matter. “The Timmy thing?” 

“He’s incredibly jealous of Tim,” she rolled her eyes tiredly, “which I don’t—It’s stupid.” 

“Is it, y/n, didn’t you tell me you slept with him?” 

“Yes but—I—Look,” she coughed. “It’s—Not something—I… I don’t know, when… I saw Cherry, I guess I wanted to get over him, but I can’t… I...it always comes back to him, you know?” 

James watched her, confused. 

“It’s funny, how we translated the bad parts into good ones, and I am so scared that I won’t get to say everything I feel for him for yet another chance…. And he is just...The love of my life, and it feels...there’s no other explanation for it, you know? He just is. And I look back and even though we were always fighting I just…” She took a deep breath. “And it did break me, the Cherry thing, him moving on with someone else just, I guess I wanted to move on, too, I thought… It’s gone, you know? Then he comes back and it’s another spark, you know? I just get out of my stupid senses... but I just did it because I couldn’t bear the thought that we are not meant to be.” 

James remained quiet. 

“And no matter what everyone says, I’d still choose him, you know? It’s so…” She cleared her throat. “So stupid, but then I just remember that feeling with us laughing and smiling and the...The first time he ever said he loved me I couldn’t quite… Believe it, you know? And it’s not… Gosh I hate that we are both so stupid but we’re doing our best, and he…I don’t know. Maybe it’s stupid but I think… I like to think we both missed waking up beside each other.” 

“That’s not love.” 

“No, I know, not that, but it is love, in our own very particular way,  but we’re so much more than that, yes the pieces are all scattered around, but I know I want to fight for it, and… I think our problem is we aimed too high or… I can’t help but be confused about the script you know? Because if it hadn’t been for it… I would’ve never had a chance yet it seemed like I… It’s a very delicate subject, but I don’t know, love is complicated, that’s it. But I love him more than anything.” 

James knew that y/n knew that Tom and her probably didn’t work out. She knew she’d broken Tom’s heart. It was no secret that y/n felt that  the worst thing that she’d ever done was breaking his heart. She knew that, and though everybody said it, she should forgive herself, she knew that it wasn’t easy. 

James didn’t know what to answer. 

“I don’t want to lose him.” 

“Yet you’re loving him as if you are going to,” James intruded. 

“You never know, and i think that’s the best way to love, love as if you’re gonna lose each other, then you know you’re really loving them…. Life has taught us both that we can screw up,” she gulped. “And I don’t know, I know...there’s a part of me that thinks it won’t last even if we try to, you know? But then again, I think about it and I know we’ll eventually end up together again. And I know I… look, I know I shouldn’t be saying this because I need no man but this time in L. A., I felt… numb, you know? And I guess I was sad because there was nothing holding us together, and… I would put on a smile every Friday, you know? Pretend I was okay, and I was healing of course, but I still had so much love left for him. Still do and I don’t want to let go of my chance. Might as well be happy, I’m tired of listening to me crying anyway.” 

Y/N did say ‘you know’ a lot, and James did know. Not sure how. 

“Why do you love him?” He asked. 

“He’s just too good to be true,” y/n smiled slightly, to herself. “I don’t—know, I just do, he’s the only one that gets through to me, and I feel alive when I’m with him,” she bit her lip. “I feel like I am a teenager all over again, but a good way, like when you’re excited about trying new stuff and excited about growing up, and being rebellious, and” she closed her eyes. “As cheesy as it sounds, I just lose all my defenses, but with him, I don’t feel lonely, he’s like… I don’t know, he’s just a song written by the hand of god.” 

James only listened. Y/N wasn’t… this, usually. Y/n never really said things like that. It was odd. 

“Y/N, that’s—“

“I know, I’m being ridiculous,” she blushed. “But I do love him. Because he’s—a moment, he is… I love him because I know him, and even with his flaws I completely love him.” 

“He’s an idiot, y/n, he slept with Cherry.” 

James didn’t understand it. Not really. Or not completely, for that matter. But he knew it. It was so complicated but he didn’t blame her, he guessed that y/n wasn’t a quitter, maybe that’s why she was trying so hard. And maybe she was right, and he knew it, Tom wasn’t that bad… But the fact he’d slept with Cherry was completely inappropriate. 

“I never thought I’d need him,” she admitted. “And I missed him, but I didn’t miss the heartbreak.” 

A broken heart can blind us. 

He’d seen Tom once back in London, and he wasn’t alright. Tom wasn’t doing fine with y/n being away, and with the heartache, his eyes always looked tired, and he was paler, and quiet. 

Tom was never quiet. 

And yet just as James had arrived in Los Angeles he’d seen a very different Tom, one with bright eyes and pink cheeks again. Like y/n, too. Her voice over the phone sounded off, always too distracted, or not there. Now she seemed… better, but still broken. 

James knew there was no use on trying to convince y/n and she had promised that she wouldn’t continue unless she talked to Tom about it. James knew she was so good at avoiding it. 

Y/N had taken James to set the next day and he’d seen them again, very different, very professional. He saw it in their eyes, though. Eyes looking to lock with the other and that shy smile. 

James had to look past that, as he saw his little sister’s dream come true, and he could tell that she didn’t quite believe it herself. And it was like seeing that little girl just from years ago with a hope and a dream and her always bossing the Holland boys around as she wrote a script for their home made movie. 

He saw them all like kids, Tom, Harry, Sam and y/n. It was like them being kids again. In a way. 

Now it was a real set, with real actors, a real movie, a real script and Harry was directing, he couldn’t believe it. Y/N and Tom were discussing over with some of the actors and Harry talked to the crew. 

James guessed Tom and y/n had a lot to say between the chemistry of the actors. He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, how they did work together, at least in the professional way, as Tom was directing them.

Did it hurt? James wondered as he watched Tom, directing Gregg, telling him how it should feel: 

“She’s the love of your life and that guy over there took the chance when you blew it up, of course you hate him, he’s the worst person in the world because… What makes him so bad is that… he is perfect for her,” James had heard Tom say. 

James had time to observe y/n and Tom. From afar and when y/n was not hiding. On that particular day when they were rehearsing that one scene when Valerie and Teddy were together, when they were supposed to be in love, dancing, all while William had to watch in the distance. 

Odd scene to see, considering his conversation with y/n. Did y/n have feelings for Tim still? Even if she assured she loved Tom? 

All of James' doubts were clearly erased as soon as he’d seen them.He’d seen them laughing with each other, shyly looking away, and y/n… giggled. 

Y/n giggled? 

It bothered him. Because it felt like Tom didn’t care, as if they’d simply erased it, in a way. But James was very aware that y/n was only bottling it all up, and y/n is dangerous, if she bottles too much she would end up losing control. 

James had seen them walk away together to have lunch, Sam and Harry had gone separate ways after but stayed far enough from them. Emma had joined James instead, they were close to y/n and Tom. 

Emma seemed sad. James couldn’t ask much about it, but from what he’d gathered from Harry, things weren’t going fine. Harry had only mentioned how it would take him a lot of time, that there was hope but that Emma just didn’t want to give in. But James could tell Emma did love Harry, and he admired Emma, her bravery and strength. She had to break off an engagement because her fiance wasn’t sure about it. Of course she wouldn’t forgive him that easily, Harry had been an idiot. 

James wished y/n was a bit more like Emma, y/n was too forgiving, and y/n was too stubborn and too blinded by the stupid boy to see it. 

James and Emma were eavesdropping, because both of them probably didn’t have a conversation themselves, and because both of them had gone close so they could hear, but hidden enough not to be seen. 

Nothing interesting about their conversation, the script, the set. Until...

“I was going to take you camping,” Tom mentioned out of the blue.

 Y/N had chuckled. “What?”

“Yeah,” he gulped. “For your—for your birthday.”

She grinned. “Camping?”

“Yeah,” Tom cleared his throat.

“That sounds so—cool,” y/n said, a bit confused by the idea. 

“But guess that idea is off the charts now.” 

She scowled. “Why?” 

“I am pretty sure your brother doesn’t want you alone with me,” Tom laughed nervously. 

James nodded in agreement to Tom’s statement as Emma tried to hide a snicker.

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes, shaking her head and letting out a very forced laugh. “He’s an idiot.” 

“No, no, I—I understand it, you’re his little sister and he’s always been very protective.” 

“He hasn’t,” Y/N chuckled.

“Oh, he has, even I know he had a talk with Tim,” Tom hissed the name. 

“What?” 

“Didn’t you know? He told him that if he broke your heart he’d chop his dick off,” he assured her. 

James shrugged and looked at Emma. “And he didn’t,” James whispered. “Because Timmy is a good guy.” 

Emma scoffed. 

“I… oh my god, I didn’t know,” Y/N sounded embarrassed. 

Tom coughed. “I’m terrified of your brother.” 

“Good,” James mouthed to Emma. 

“Hm but what were you planning?” Y/N asked, getting back on the subject. “Camping, really?” 

“I dunno, rent a cabin, go for a hike, spend the day and night together,” Tom had changed his voice and gotten slightly closer to y/n. 

“Hm tell me more,” y/n had grinned. 

James motioned as if he was going to puke. 

“And I thought we could have time to ourselves you know? I know we work best when we are alone,” Tom had continued before getting his lips close to hers. 

“Hm we do,” y/n had closed the gap between them. 

“My sister’s an idiot,” James told Emma. “Why are you letting her do that?” 

Emma rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “I can’t stop her.” 

“And well I thought it’d be romantic,” Tom continued. 

“Hm why don’t we go?” 

Tom laughed. “And take your brother?” 

“We wouldn’t-” 

“We would have to, y/n,” Tom laughed. 

James nodded again. 

“But yeah that was my idea, you and me in the woods with no distractions,” Tom commented to y/n. 

“Hmm…” Y/n had leaned yet again to kiss him. 

James scrunched his nose, he really didn’t understand how Tom managed to get y/n so stupid. 

“You know, the cabin I had seen was really romantic,” Tom explained. 

“Was it now?” y/n blushed. 

“Yes, hm... it had a fireplace, and it was so cozy,” he continued. “And I know it’s not 80’s type of aesthetic you like—“

“No, no, shut up! I would’ve loved it, it sounds so romantic,” y/n had chanted. 

James was confused. “It doesn’t, ew,” he whispered to Emma. 

“It was,” Tom agreed with y/n. 

“And what were we going to do?” Y/n asked. 

James closed his eyes and shook his head. 

“Hm, there was a nice place to go hiking, uh, fishing, maybe? and you know relax, talk, get...cozy,” Tom continued. 

“Oh,so he was right?” Y/n asked. 

“Who was?” Tom frowned, confused. 

“James,” Y/n said. 

James raised his brows at the mention of his name.

“About what?” Asked Tom. 

Y/n giggled. “You were planning on giving me your—” 

Thankfully, Tom hadn’t let her finish the sentence. “You’re taking away all the romance out of it when you say it like that!” 

James wanted to die. 

Y/N laughed, loudly. “But were you?” 

Tom was embarrassed. “I—I mean it may have been on the schedule yes hopefully—I mean don’t say it like that, oh my god, y/n—But—“

“Was it on the schedule then?” Y/n asked. “How did you write it? Sex at 8?“

“No! No, I—it was—Not planned—I mean I wasn’t going to assign like a time but I mean it would I—kinda thought I—mean I knew—I assumed—“

“Oh, so you assumed it?” Y/N laughed. “So you just assumed I was going to ride you?”

James seriously thought he was going to die. 

“No, I didn’t!” Tom was red. “Y/n! I—I no!” 

“So you didn’t want to then?”

“Yes! But—I thought it could be an open possibility?” Tom was nervous. “I—“

Now it was y/n’s turn to not let him finish as she had already kissed him again. Emma was so entertained by the conversation and James’ reaction that she couldn’t hide a lighter for not longer. James lost it by then, so he quickly stood up and walked to them. 

Emma followed, curiously. 

The couple was still kissing. 

James cleared his throat loud enough for both of them to hear him and quickly separate. 

Y/N frowned. “James for god’s sake!” 

James walked over to them, “We are having lunch and I don’t see you eating, so Emma and I should join you.” 

“Sorry y/n,” Emma whispered to her friend. 

Tom and y/n were red, so, so red, and Tom was shaking. James only glared once at Tom before Tom moved away from y/n, just as James sat between them. 

“Your food is intact,” James pointed out. 

Tom moved away. “I—we were.” 

“No, Tom, eating my sister’s face is not lunch,” James cockily said. 

“James what the fuck,” y/n snapped at her brother. 

Tom laughed nervously. “James, c'mon man.” 

Emma felt awkward. “Why don’t we—eat?” 

They stayed quiet for a bit. 

“So, what are you guys?” James asked. 

Tom almost choked on his food. “What?” 

“James!” Y/N complained. 

Emma just smirked. 

“yeah, what are you? Have you guys talked about it? All your emotional baggage?” James pushed. 

Tom coughed. “We have been.. discussing it.” 

Y/N turned to Tom. “don’t answer” 

James smirked. “No, no no no, y/n, I wanna know.” 

Tom nodded. “What do you want to know?” 

“What is going on,” James reminded him. 

“I love your sister,” Tom answered. 

Emma watched between all of them. 

“Doesn’t answer my question,” James raised his eyebrow, as if challenging Tom. 

“James,” Y/N hissed. 

“I—it’s it’s true I am deeply in love with her and have been for a while now,” Tom said as if defending himself. 

“Are you a couple?” James asked. 

“Yes,” Tom said. 

“No,” answered y/n at the same time. 

Both of them turned to each other, with confusion. 

Emma blew her cheeks in. 

“Um… What did you think of the… I saw you guys were working on Jesse’s girl today!” Emma quickly intruded. 

James clicked his tongue. “No, wait Emma… This is interesting,” James continued. 

“What-” Tom frowned watching y/n. 

Y/N shook her head. “James can you please leave us alone.” 

“I… Well, I’m just confused, and I have more questions… A,  y/n why do you keep making out with this man if you’re not a couple I mean you can do whatever the fuck you want with your life but this man may I remind you has broken your heart and hurt you in so many possible ways—even broke your bones?” 

Tom coughed. “That was accidental... all of those.” 

James shook his head. “Eh, I haven't finished pretty boy, and b) why are you Tom, saying you’re a couple when you haven’t talked about it?” He pushed. 

Y/N glared at her brother. “James this isn’t any of your business.” 

Tom only clenched his jaw. 

“Uh, er… Guys, I’m gonna….” Emma had awkwardly stood up, “I’m gonna pretend they need me over there,” she announced before leaving. 

“You’re fucking insane,” y/n declared at her brother before storming off, following Emma, leaving James and Tom alone. 

Tom avoided his gaze. 

“I know you hate me, but-” Tom started. 

“I don’t, I care a lot about you and that’s why I’m doing this…” He said. 

Tom scoffed. “Oh, so you’re helping me out with this?” He glared. 

“I’m not,” James said. “But you perfectly know what you did to y/n, and I’m sorry Tom but you can’t-” 

“It’s between me and her,” he said. 

“But I know you both, and you’re both so stupid, Tom, for fuck’s sake, and you slept with Cherry,” James snapped. “I’m not letting that-” 

“Who told you?” Tom asked. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Jamessaid. 

“Did you tell her?” 

“Didn’t have to,” James said. “She knew it already. And if you don’t have the balls to talk about it with her, which honestly-” 

“I want to, okay?” Tom barked. “I can’t believe I did it but I want to work it out!” He snapped. “I thought you were fine with us!” 

“No, Tom I’m not—fine with this,” James explained. “And I can’t believe I’ve let you hurt her this much and I swear Tom she might believe you but I don’t-” 

“Look we want to talk it out, I mean it alright—your sister is the love-” 

“Love of your life! Then why have you been such an asshole to her?” James wondered. “Do you even know it Tom? How badly you broke her? After Rome? Do you even realize-” 

“Yes I do! And that’s why I bloody want to do things right this time, okay? I want to give her the entire world, alright? I’m not… I’m not joking, alright? I actually… I want to make it up to her, I’m… so in love with her, and I just want the best for her,” he said, gulping. “I…” He sighed. “Maybe we haven’t talked about it because we both know it’ll break us apart, alright?” Tom looked away. “And I just want her to know about it, everything, how she’s been my everything… Since we were children, okay… James you know me, you’ve known me my whole life and you know I’m not lying to you, I love her,” he sighed. “I don’t want to hurt her and I know I’ve fucked up. I just… I know it, it’s so hard, and I…” He gulped. “I guess… I know I slept with Cherry, I know, I did it, I’m not denying it, and I have no excuse but I… When I did it it was… I thought she had left to move on with Tim again because... “ Tom looked away. “I know it, alright? I’m not… good enough for her and you’ve shown me that, because you didn’t fucking act this way with Tim, and no one has said it with me, I know I’m the bad guy here, Harry doesn’t approve of me, Sam doesn’t approve of me, Emma doesn’t approve of me, you don’t… like me,” Tom gulped. “But I genuinely love her, and I know I’m a fucking mess, but… nobody knows about us, alright?” 

James clenched his jaw. No, it wasn’t alright no matter how many times he said it. 

“And it’s difficult to apologize, you’re right, I probably don’t have the balls for it, I’m a fucking coward, and I know, but I’m just trying to be honest with her, and with you, I genuinely want the world for her, and if I have to go back to the start then I will,” he sighed. “And I don’t know how to talk about it with her, and I don’t know if she feels the same way,” he took a deep breath. “And it’s killing me that I don’t know where she’s standing, and she avoids talking and I know how… She works, you know? She’s always been so reserved.” 

“The problem with both of you is you both think it’s you against each other,” James said. 

Tom looked up at him. 

“It’s always been that way, y/n against Tom, and I feel like you’re doing it again,” James said. “I am just telling you both, to realize it, it’s both of you against the problem not you against each other,” James said. 

Tom nodded. “I know that, and I’ve tried talking to her, but she… Ignores it, or someone comes in, or we have to-” 

“You’re searching for excuses,” James said, he seemed calmer now. 

“I’m not,” Tom said. “And I really mean it James, I don’t want to break her heart, I don’t want to hurt her anymore.” 

“And if she ends up hurting you?” 

“I’ll work it out,” Tom said. 

“Why are you directing this?” James questioned. 

Tom didn’t answer that, instead he took a deep breath. 

“If this is another one of your stupid plans—“

“It’s not, and not even a plan to try to win her back,” Tom explained, “it’s not—not like that. I want to give her the world,, and I know this—This whole thing is the world to her, you—you really underestimate me, Jay, as if I were some kind of stranger to you or to her, but—I’m not,” he repeated. 

“Maybe it’s time you both move on.” 

“I don’t want to move on, and—I tried, I—that’s why it happened, everyone said it: Move on, Tom, she’s just another girl… and fuck.” 

“She’s—“

“She’s not, I’m very aware of that, but even Haz and Harry said it, I fucked up, she fucked up, move on man,” Tom mocked their voices, angrily. “Just another girl, and, and I tried to… move on, thinking yeah, it’s only a stupid thought or whim, yes and I thought—if she’s really just another girl, then why the hell can’t I move on? how—Even other friends said, hey, you’re Tom Holland,” he let out a soft dry cackle. “a million girls are dying to be with you and—“Tom closed his eyes, “maybe it was that, me trying to—Trying to move on, but I don’t—want it, I don’t want another girl, James.” 

James only watched him. 

“And I’m telling you this not because you are her brother but because you’re my friend and I’m—I’m just—You know me, James, you know me perfectly and you’re acting as if you didn’t, yes I’m—I am an idiot, and yes I know I’m probably the worst option for her, and I probably tick every single bad box but—at the same time I’m—“ he gulped. “I just can’t believe how stupid I am, and I—I am” Tom meant it, James could tell. “When I’m with her, I feel like myself, and I don’t often feel that way, and she’s just this… incredible person. And I’m—terrified, I’m terrified of it. But I need her,” he gulped. “Not—in—I don’t know.” 

Maybe James needed to hear that from Tom. Though he still—James couldn’t forgive Tom. Even if it wasn’t his business, he could forgive him for breaking his sister. 

“And I’m very aware that I’ve lost her before because I know it, I’m an idiot, but maybe I’m too stubborn to admit that I lost my chance. Because I—I haven’t, alright? And this might be my last one but—I can’t admit it to myself, but I know about it, Jay, I know that what we could’ve had is gone so maybe just let me cling on to whatever we’re holding on until she decides to let me go, alright?” 

“I don’t understand why you’re both in a relationship where both of you think it’ll end up badly,” James had questioned. 

“You see, I’m trying for it not to end up that way,” he said, 

“But you think it’ll end, then?” 

Tom hadn’t answered him. 

“Why do you love her?” 

“She’s my home,” Tom shrugged as he quickly answered, he didn’t have to think about it. “I—I was always scared of growing up but it doesn’t hurt when I’m with her, when life is—getting too hard she was always there with those pair of old jeans and bright smile and yes, initially she was there to call me an idiot but she just made time stop, completely,” he shrugged. “Because she just—“ he smiled sadly, “she helps me find my heartbeat in the middle of all the bustle.”

James didn’t know Tom could be so poetic. But he meant it, or at least James hoped he meant it. 

James didn’t push it any further. After that, y/n had ignored him. Y/N was excellent at doing so, if she wanted to ignore someone she’d make sure they noticed. And she was angry at her brother. Besides when it comes to siblings, it feels even more personal and very immaturely done. y/n had ignored James and made sure to make him feel ignored. She would avoid his gaze, and she’d pretend she didn’t listen to him. 

She hadn’t even offered him a ride back to aunt Eliza’s. 

Tom had been the one to offer it. 

James had apologized to Tom, and he had only shrugged it off. 

“She’s your sister. I get it, she deserves the world, you’re only trying to give it to her.” 

Harry said he needed a beer, maybe they all needed one. 

Maybe James had to give it to Tom, y/n was one to ignore people and her problems per se. Tom had also ignored James, not like y/n, Tom was probably angry at James. James didn’t care for that. 

“I love the chemistry between Gregg and Auli’i,” Harry had said when they were at the bar, all of them beers in their hands. “They’re—really—“

“It’s too familiar,” Sam had laughed. “Very familiar.” 

“Not—there’s something missing,” Tom said. 

“Is it weird?” James asked. 

“What?” 

“Come on, the script?” James said. 

Tom shrugged. “It gives me a better understanding of her,” Tom admitted. “It’s—She really did write her heart out in there.” 

Harry watched between them. 

“What happened today?” Sam wondered. “I saw y/n storm off with Emma.” 

“I was a jerk,” James said, “to her and to Tom.” 

Sam and Harry side-eyed each other. 

“What’s going on with Emma?” Sam asked, quickly trying to avoid the subject. 

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, it seemed like an old bad joke hearing about it. 

“She’s… She says she’s not ready,” Harry said. “She just says she’s not ready, and she…” Harry took a deep breath.

“You two are the most stupid men in the world,” he said, staring at Tom and Harry. “You both come here, without giving them any warning, and you expect them to run after you? And don’t--Emma’s reaction is logical,” James continued. “But you have to understand that Emma came here to heal, Y/N came here for her dream, and you two came in barging just to shove it, the two men they came running away from just shoved in their way to say ‘Hey, y/n, I’m in charge of your dream now’” 

Sam took a log sip from his beer, with a big smirk. “Thank you, James, that’s what I’ve been telling them.” 

“But… Okay, yes, but you don’t know all the facts,” Harry sighed. “Look, if we hadn’t taken the project probably nobody else would!” 

James blinked. “What?” 

Tom looked away. 

Harry bit his lip, nervously, shaking his head. “I… We called the studio looking for her project and apparently there had been a lot of directors and producers rejecting the project,” Harry said. 

“So yes, we decided to barge in, and we said we’d be the stand in directors until someone showed up,” Tom explained. “We worked with the casting and everything and we’ve been behind the stage but we--And, I know that y/n never wanted us to be involved but the thing is it’s… It’s a hard project, and she’s unknown, and… It’s an amazing story, you know? But it’s… Films these days are all about superheroes, I should know, or too serious, and--It’s got potential, it’s got a lot of potential, and--” Tom sighed. “Maybe it was a mistake but at least this way we can be assured it’s get done her way. So at the end… we did accept the project because I’m just... “ 

Harry watched his brother and then turned to James. “Yeah.” 

James had really underestimated Tom, probably everyone did. Maybe that’s what Tom was so stressed about. 

“I do--” Tom clenched his jaw. “I might want to change just a few bits but I…”He looked away. “We’ve been talking about it with her, to make William more human, less of an asshole.” 

Harry nodded. 

“I think,” Sam shrugged. “Well, I don’t know much about films or whatever, but I think he’s human enough, and at least you understand it, I think y/n actually did a great job on him,” Sam continued. “I…think he even made him even way too nice,” he chuckled. “Like, there is a point where you understand why she loves him, I think, the story is built so you think you need to hate him but I guess the audience is supposed to fall in love with him as Y/N-- I mean, Valerie falls, hell, she even made me want to fall in love,” Sam laughed. “But I mean it’s purely fiction, in real life I don’t get how the hell she’s in love with you.”  

“Shut up,” Tom rolled his eyes, he had chuckled slightly, but James saw that Tom was slightly hurt by those words. 

James had read the script only once, he hadn’t really read it because he felt like he was reading y/n’s diary, which he had done once when they were younger, and she had been so angry at him. The script had felt like getting into y/n’s deepest feelings. He remembered a particular line which had stuck out from the rest. 

“I love him and I’ve run out of reasons to say why, I just know that  even when there’s no music playing we will find a way to dance.” 

Maybe Tom needed everyone to know the backstory, see past his actions. And probably y/n didn’t know this, James knew she’d get angry because she wanted to get it out herself, not be helped by him, make a name for herself, however in the industry it was difficult enough. But maybe it made sense, the reason why y/n loved Tom so much, because she didn’t need reasons to, she just did, and he kept giving her reasons to. 

“But….Emma, then?” James asked, trying to get back on the subject. 

 “Well… she slept with Josh,” Harry continued. 

“What?” Tom interrupted, angrily. “She did what?” 

“That night after the movie,” Harry bit his lip. “I-” 

“And you’re okay with that?” Tom questioned. 

“They’re not together, Tom,” Sam quickly said. “Besides, it’s most likely because-” 

“Because she was nervous about Harry coming here,” James ended the sentence.

Harry shrugged. “She was honest about it, and I mean--I don’t, I know she doesn’t love him, and yes, I was jealous but…” 

James watched Tom who nodded, knowingly. 

“I mean she chose a random guy to have sex with because she was stressed,” Harry nodded. “And she did tell me it meant nothing and I mean, it’s… It’s her body, she can do whatever she wants, and we… are not together.” 

“Where does one draw the line, though?” Sam questioned. “With rebounds, I mean.” 

James scoffed and shrugged. “It depends, on how soon, how the relationship ended.” 

“The whole, are we in a break or not,” Harry shrugged. 

“Yeah,” James laughed. “Classic Ross and Rachel, we are on a break type of situation, like, of course, they were on a break but it was too soon, because-- there are breakups that last for a day, y’know? The argument says it all, and right away… Gives the wrong impression, as if, I didn’t love you anymore so I hooked up with the first person I saw, either in spite or-” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, also who it is with.” 

“Oh, yes,” Sam nodded. “Right, like.. If it’s with another ex?” Sam clicked his tongue. 

Harry scrunched his nose. “I think that’s normal, you know?”

“Is it?” Tom frowned. “Why would it be normal?” 

James saw it as an opportunity to defend his sister, not sure whether Tom knew it or not. “Because it’s something familiar,” James said. “Like, you don’t have to search for something you might not like so just go to someone who once you know… Knew you.” 

Tom coughed. “But like, that should mean they have feelings for them.” 

“Nah,” Sam tossed a few fries into his mouth. “Well, depends on the ex, but like, if you’re only hooking up with them, I mean,” Sam rolled his eyes. 

“It could awake feelings,” James nodded. “But if you’re searching for an ex it means you’re not up for someone new, it means you’re stuck somewhere there and sleeping with an ex means not wanting to move on.” 

“And alright, if you-- You’re still dating Clark, right?” Tom asked. “If you broke up and he slept with his ex would you forgive him?” 

James scrunched his nose. “I mean,” he shrugged. “As long as he doesn’t sleep with any relative.” 

Tom opened his mouth to say something but then exhaled defeatedly. 

“Like, for example, Sam,” James said. “That’s crossing the line on rebounds.” 

Sam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that’s… fucking up, by the way Cherry’s coming and well--” 

“What exactly happened between you both?” James questioned. 

Tom bit his lip, he took a deep breath as he tried to map his thoughts out, knowing that what he was about to say would change a lot of things. 

“We were friends,” Tom said. 

Sam and Harry only watched his older brother, probably nervous to the outcome of the conversation. 

“I--Well,” he sighed. “She said she wanted someone to show her around London and…” Tom shook his head. “I… Well, she did flirt since the beginning and I… I didn’t answer at first, but then…I was so angry, I… I thought about it and thought hey, I lost my chance and y/n ran back to Tim and she is probably moving on.”

“Why did you think she was moving on?” James questioned. “She literally told you she loved you and only you.” 

Tom took a deep breath. “I’m an idiot, and… I dunno,” he sighed. “I thought she would end up going back with Tim. 

Harry widened his eyes with surprise, awkwardly asking for a second beer. 

“I don’t know, I was heartbroken, I was stupid and… I missed her too much and I...And I felt lonely and and everyone here sees me as the bad guy, and I continue to be the bad guy, but she was someone new and someone who didn’t know me and she was... And then I saw Tim posted a picture and it was… Undeniable taken by her, you know?” Tom looked down. “And I… Well, that’s how they started last time, her taking pictures of him and I thought she would again and so in spite, or full of rage and so I tried to move on and the option was right there in front of me and Tim kept posting you know, and even if he didn’t say it I just knew it was y/n, and one day after way too many beers I finally gave in to Cherr’s flirting and it--”He squeezes his eyes shut. “And I told her that whatever happened, it didn’t have to mean anything I told her, no strings attached, no feelings and… it happened,” he sighed. “And I….But it didn’t feel… I don’t even remember how it happened and I just didn’t feel good with it, it made me feel even worse and lonelier and then she kept wanting to hang out and I just shut her out because it was a mistake and then, I thought I was a rebound to her as well, she had just broken up with her girlfriend and I thought I was just a rebound but she then… Showed more and I just… Gave her no explanation, not… I don’t know, I told her I wasnt in a good place and that I was still in love with someone else and that wouldn’t change and yes, I’m the asshole again and…” 

All of them stayed quiet. What were they supposed to say? 

It was ironic, how both Tom and y/n had assumed they’d move on, and the reasons why they did it, both of them sleep with an ex and a relative, because both of them assumed the other one would move on. Why? Maybe that’s why they were so stubborn right now because both of them realized neither did and they probably never would. As if they were just happy to find out they still loved each other but were too afraid to admit it out loud. 

They remained quiet. 

“Eh,” Sam had cut the silence, too awkward for him to handle. “Not that I don’t want to talk about a conversation that will probably end up giving Tom a mental breakdown, and don’t get me wrong I love having awkward silences,  but I need… I need to know, Jay,” Sam smiled. “May I know what’s that on your finger?” 

Harry and Tom finally landed their sight on James’ finger, a silver band wrapped right around his left ring finger.

“Hm?” James quickly hid his hand. 

“Is that an engagement ring?” Harry questioned with a smirk. 

“Uh-” 

“Wait, uh--” Tom shook his head to shake away the sad feeling. “Are you engaged?” 

“To Clark?” Harry asked. 

Though he didn’t want to talk about it, he knew that the other conversation wasn’t for him to know. The other conversation was something Tom had to work out with y/n, which, yes, the reason had been very stupid, y/n had to work out with Tom how Tom felt about Tim. 

Probably James and everyone else did, maybe they really had made Tom feel unworthy of y/n’s love and that’s why he kept sabotaging himself. 

James did end up telling them, and he even finished the conversation thanking Tom for introducing him to Clark. Of course he didn’t have to tell them all the details, they were three straight men too stupid to care, and James was grateful he didn’t have to share as much, because it was his story, not anyone elses to know, it was his relationship and it was his Clark. 

James had, however, explained to them that Clark would come, too, James was slightly nervous about it, given that he knew that y/n was definitely not going to be welcoming and that she’d keep ignoring him. That’s how y/n worked with James, no matter if he tried to apologize, she wouldn’t talk to him. 

James knew he had made a mistake with this, but he needed to hear it from Tom, and though it wasn’t technically any of his business, he knew that Tom was more understanding, in his own way, than y/n. 

Tom could talk to James, that’s the difference, and Tom hadn’t talked to James for a while and so James didn’t know, and of course it drove him crazy not to know why or how this was happening. 

Tom, Sam and Harry all offered James a room in the house they were renting to stay there with Clark, he had accepted it because he knew Cherry was coming. 

James didn’t want to face Cherry. Because James had this one habit that he couldn’t ever get rid off, he was too nosy when he wasn’t asked, and he had talked to Cherry about Tom, and warned her that Tom was just too important to y/n. 

Y/N, as expected, kept ignoring James. But he had seen that Tom and y/n had gone out one night, alone, together. He had heard them walk into the house, and as much as he had tried to avoid eavesdropping, he had walked out, innocently to the kitchen and he’d seen them, on the couch, talking. 

“I think we need to add a scene,” Tom had said. “It’s… important.” 

“But… I don’t get it,” y/n said. “You want me tro write another one, I thought you’d said it was too long.” 

“But this one is important y/n, it gives… backstory to William.” 

“So you want me to make something up? Just to….”

“Yes, I told you, William searches for her after the whole London thing.” 

“But that didn’t happen,” y/n said. “And that’s why Valerie-” 

It seemed, Tom had told James, that Tom had found a loophole to talk without talking. Tom had explained to James that y/n would be avoiding the conversation, that didn’t surprise James. But Tom found a way to use the script to go over it, Tom had told James that they hadn’t really talked much but he had figured how to make them understand each other. 

“It did happen, so let’s add this scene, right before Jessie’s girl scene, I need it,” Tom said. “And I talked about it with Harry and he says he wants it, too.” 

“So he searches up for her? And then what? She shuts him out-” 

“She’s not the one answering the door,” Tom explained. “But William does go to mend things and then T… Teddy opens the door.” 

y/n had stayed quiet, as James was still wandering in the kitchen. 

“James will you please leave?” She asked her brother. “I won’t continue this conversation until you leave, I know what you’re doing.” 

He had left, but at least they had opened a conversation. He had seen them the very next day, asleep on the couch, so peacefully y/n laying on top of him. She had woken earlier than him and seen James in the kitchen. 

“Good morning,” James had said. 

“Morning,” y/n had answered sheepishly, as she stretched out. 

“Oh, are you talking to me now?” James had asked. “I made tea.” 

“No,” y/n had said before getting a glass of water. 

“I’m sorry,” James said. 

“No, you’re not,” Y/N answered. “You got it your way, didn’t you?” 

“I just want the best for you,” James said. “Have you talked already?” 

“About some things,” y/n said. “But it’s none of your business, as you said it before, it’s like Clark for you, Tom is mine, and my relationship is mine.” 

“So there is a relationship?” James asked. 

“There’s a hope for one,” y/n said. “And yes, I fell asleep on him, and yes, I keep kissing him but I simply want to, alright?” 

As soon as Tom had woken up and walked up to them, probably sore from the couch too as he was stretching out his arms, y/n ran over to him and gave him a passionate kiss, probably a very dumb way to prove to her brother that she was being rebellious. 

And if that hadn’t been a message clear enough, she’d flipped James off before walking away. 

“I’m--” Tom probably wanted to apologize to James but was still left too dumbfounded with the kiss. 

“Don’t,” James had rolled his eyes. 

That kind of behaviour continued, y/n trying to prove something to James. 

Cherry had arrived three days before y/n’s birthday, and Clark had arrived the next day after she did. 

They hadn’t had any contact with Cherry, not James at least. James was too busy exploring LA with his fiancé. It felt weird saying it. 

“Fiancé.” 

Y/N didn’t know Clark was in town, but as soon as she learned it, she had seemed to forget she was angry at James. She’d met Clark before, of course she knew of his existence  and that her brother was seeing him, they’d met but y/n had learned from James’ pasts relationships to not get too attached because ‘James changed couple more often than he probably showered’, which was too different from y/n, and y/n, though she had noticed about Clark, and though she did mention it from time, to time, James had tried to avoid it, because he’d finally fallen in love and he didn’t know how to act around it. 

Clark, however, had shown up to Harry’s engagement party, and that hadn’t gone well. Of course James was skeptical of showing his family, and the Hollands because he… Well, he didn’t want Clark to think they acted that way. Of course, that’s why he was reserved. 

Tom had been the one person who had had contact with Clark. 

Clark had said it to James once, “Tom is deeply in love with your sister.” 

“They hate each other,” James had answered. 

“No, if he did hate her he wouldn’t pay that much attention.” 

Clark was right, obviously. Clark, actually was someone who liked to observe and he was the one to calm James.

As soon as Clark was in town, he had listened to James’ stress and said: “She’s been in love with him her whole life and the dude, too. And you’ve said it, y/n tends to save it all for herself.” 

He was right. But James still thought that y/n and Tom had to talk about it, otherwise the chaos would come, but maybe it could wait. 

But y/n’s birthday arrived. 

Although the chaos was supposed to be coming, James wouldn’t have guessed it would come this way. And he wouldn’t have guessed it would come that way. 

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[sylvie-writes]

Jersey #18

pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (ft. Bucky, Sam, Nat, and Wanda) 

request: I know your requests are closed but I had an idea for a Steve Rogers au where he is in high school and his best friends bucky and Sam are trying to set him up with their girlfriends friend? It would be post serum Steve but like he never had the serum (like puberty was just very kind to him, not that he isn’t everything and more without the serum, just wouldn’t make sense for him to be a football star as pre serum Steve ya know?) and reader is a cheerleader but is also shy. Anywho the day of the homecoming game cheerleaders have to wear a football boys jersey and Nat wears Buckys because they’re obvi in love, Wanda wears Sams, and reader wears Steve’s and when they win the game she runs onto the field and hugs Steve and tells him she’s proud of him and they go to the dance together and they end up dancing to the song Rumor by Lee Brice? And end up admitting they have feeling for each other? ❤️❤️😭 if you could make this happen I would be ECSTATIC

a/n: Thank you for being patient with me. It took me longer to write this because I wanted it to be good. I’m trying to get my shit together at the moment lol. Hopefully you enjoy this because I loved the idea! 

*I chose the number eighteen because Steve was born 1918 and I didn’t know of any other numbers that corresponded with him haha!

A weight had been lifted off your shoulders once the bell rang, freeing you and your classmates from your last bell class. All week long you had tried to rush the hours, longingly waiting for Friday to arrive as that was the day of the homecoming game. The minute the school bell rang, you threw your backpack on one shoulder, practically running out with your textbooks in hand.

As you lightly jogged down the hallway, you could spot Natasha’s cerise locks of hair vividly flying around as she animatedly spoke with Wanda, the two of them most likely awaiting your presence.

The walk from your last class to the lockers was like trekking from Timbuktu and back. Eventually, the familiar tone of Wanda sassing Natasha filled your ears and you giggled, hearing her tell the redhead as it is.

“Now now, ladies.”

You slowly twisted your dial lock, putting in the combination and then opening the creaky metal door to set down your textbooks. Nat leaned up against the locked to your right, Wanda to your left.

“For once, we weren’t actually arguing, (y/n/n)! We were talking about the homecoming game.”

Turning from your locker to face the woman, you raised an eyebrow at her, “Oh really?”

“Yeah, we were thinking about wearing the boys’ jerseys for tonight’s game.”

You smiled, happy for them both, not fully understanding their words. Continuing to listen, you faced your locker once more, going to round up the things for this weekend. In your hand, you held your planner, looking over all of the upcoming assignments and strategically picking which ones to accomplish this weekend.

A sound of feet shuffling sounded louder and louder in the hallway, getting closer to you and the girls. You heard the sounds stop, and a voice replaced the noise.

“Hey babydoll, we got the things you asked for.”

Curious, you turned to your right to see Bucky with his arms wrapped around Natasha’s waist as his lips were glued to behind her ear. Your friend tried to function somewhat normally as her boyfriend continued to shower her in affection.

“This is for you.”

Turning once more, you now saw Sam handing Wanda a jersey as she sheepishly smiled, listening to the man drop some cheesy pick up lines. You looked to your left and right, smiling at your friends' happiness. Suddenly you felt a hand caressing your shoulder, causing you to turn towards the one direction you hadn’t. Behind.

The tall and sweet blonde man you had dreamed about since middle school kindly smiled at you, a jersey in his large hands. Your eyes went wide as you realized the girls had managed to rope you into this too.

“Hi to you too, (y/n).”

Steve chuckled and you then registered that he must’ve seen your startled expression. Feeling a bit awkward, you laughed with the man, shaking off the embarrassment.

“Hi Steve, is that for me I assume?”

The tables had now turned and Steve had been staring at you for a few seconds so far, a bright smile on his face, words struggling to leave his mouth. You giggled at his sweet little mistake.

“Oh! Uh yes!”

His face shuffled through three shades of vermilion, his cheeks most likely toasty as his blushed ears said so. Steve’s lips contorted into that million dollar smile, pearly whites twinkling at you. Unfolding the jersey, Steve brought the shoulders of the jersey to your own, letting the shirt drape over your chest. “Looks great, babe!”

You bit your bottom lip at his playfulness, lightly slapping his chest.

“Oh hush, Rogers.”

The two of you were in your own little world, as your friends watched upon your interaction, unbeknownst to you both.

“I hate to break this up, but we have to get to practice, punk. Gotta be in tip top shape, ya know?”

Bucky quickly kissed Nat goodbye, Sam doing the same with Wanda, leaving you and Steve to awkwardly wave at each other. Once the boys had left, your two best friends hounded you like detectives, not allowing you to leave until you answered each and every question. It was no secret that you harbored feelings for Steve, and vice versa, yet both of you were too petrified to make the first move. Honestly, you felt somewhat insecure, as the girls who wanted to date Steve made up a queue line longer than the Great Wall of China. There were so many options, and he chose you? Apparently it made sense to everyone else except for yourself.

‘Lovey-dovey’ feelings aside, Steve was a great guy, who you considered one of your close friends. Since middle school, you had known Nat, Wanda, Bucky, Sam, and Steve. You six had always been close, and sports brought you all even closer. First, Bucky and Nat got together, then Sam and Wanda, now the four have spent the past year trying to set you and Steve up, which you do kind of enjoy, but of course you don’t let them know that.

When you had finally satiated Wanda and Nat’s dying need to know every detail of your five minute interaction with Steve, you three went to go find the rest of the team and work on some cheers. Time ticked on and soon four hours became three...two...one.

With an hour until the game began, Natasha, who was cheer captain, frantically ran around, checking up on the team members as you all added finishing touches to your makeup and hair. You sat in front of the vanity, carefully watching Nat getting chastised by Wanda. Her hands hastily flew as she talked, probably scolding Natasha for worrying about everyone else and not even being ready herself. Time was ticking away, so you and Wanda helped the woman get ready. When finished the three of you looked into the mirror to see your reflections smiling back, large jerseys half-tucked into your cheer skorts.

Needless to say, the first three quarters of the game were intense leaving not only you, but the audience on edge. A few offenses left you grimacing, but the boys picked themselves up and kept going. For a majority of the game, you and the girls stayed on the sidelines, expertly performing cheers that were prepared by Natasha. At halftime, you all came onto the field and executed more advanced tricks and such.

Now here you all were, last quarter of the game. So far, your school only needed one more winning play to win the game and keep the team’s winning streak. You gripped your pom poms tightly as you watched Steve briskly run down the field, football tucked in his arm, making your heart race increase a bit. It was then that you realized that you have really cared for Steve as you were constantly worrying about him out on the field.

Too busy daydreaming, you hadn’t even noticed that the game had ended until the crowd started cheering. Immediately, you saw the guys standing in the field waving at the sea of screaming people who excitedly waved their foam fingers and signs. Football was a huge thing in your town, especially with your high school having been the reigning champs.

You looked to your side to notice Natasha and Wanda missing and now running towards the guys. With confidence, you dropped your pom poms and ran towards them all. Steve caught sight of you and with a bright smile, held out his arms. Catching your figure, he laughed and spun you around.

Steve set you down, but not letting go and still in fact holding you close to him. He continued to smile down on you while you gazed up at him.

“Congratulations, Cap.”

You teasingly called the man by his nickname, gently running your fingers through his sweaty helmet hair as a few strands had fallen forward.

Cheeky grin, the man replied, “Well thank you. Couldn’t have done it without you and your girls.”

You gave the man a tight hug and he chuckled.

“Hey, I was thinking that maybe if you were free, would you like to go with me to homecoming dance tomorrow?”

He looked ready to apologize for what he thought was being forward when you happily smiled at him.

“I’d be honored. See you at seven, Steve Rogers.” Giving the man a quick kiss on the cheek, you ran back across the field with the girls who were leaving.

Exactly seven o’clock on the dot you heard a loud knock on the front door. Running down the stairs, sparkly stiletto heels in hand. Last night when you had told Nat and Wanda that Steve asked you to homecoming, they practically threw you into the car and drove to the mall as if all of the dresses might disappear overnight. The three of you decided on a red high low dress, one of Steve’s favorite colors which you had learned from Bucky. Next, Wanda picked out said stilettos and you were ready for homecoming dance. That night you were so excited that you could barely sleep, and now the time had finally come.

Containing your excited squeals, you threw open the door to see Steve with his jaw dropped as he shamelessly eyed you over.

“(y/n), you look absolutely stunning. Not that you don’t always but-”

Before the man could stumble over his words anymore, you placed a soft finger against his lips, shushing him. Steve hurriedly nodded and mumbled out a “yes ma'am,” then holding out an arm for you to link onto.

Time passed quicker than before as you and Steve talked a mile a minute in the car. Before you knew it, you and Steve had arrived at the venue and you could already see Nat and Bucky along with Wanda and Sam as they all looked absolutely picture perfect.

Once Steve helped you out of the car, he again offered an arm that you gladly took. Snuggling into his side a bit, you felt so comfortable with Steve and it was honestly the best feeling in the world.

The six of you spent some time tasting the fancy horderves and of course used the photo props provided. It was something that would make an amazing memory for the future.

Eventually, the lights started to go dim and some soft notes came through the speakers. Nat and Bucky had already left for the dance floor with Sam and Wanda trailing behind.

Steve jokingly wiggled his raised eyebrow, holding a hand out for you. “Madam?”

Placing your much smaller hand in his, the man pulled you close and onto the dance floor.

There's a rumor going 'round, ha, about me and you Stirring up our little town the last week or two Oh, tell me why we even trying to deny this feeling I feel it and you feel it too

Steve’s hand supported your lower back as you wrapped your arms around his neck, relishing in this first dance with the man. You laid your head on his shoulder, and with a smile and closed eyes, followed his slow swaying.

The song continued to echo in the room and it neared to an end quicker than you had imagined.

There's a rumor going 'round, and 'round, and 'round What d'you say we make it Make it true What d'you say we make it true, yeah?

Just as the song came to the final verse, you lifted your head from Steve’s chest. He placed a delicate kiss on the top of your head prompting you to look up at him. With your eyes, the two of you silently asked for permission from the other. Slowly, you leaned into Steve’s lips as he pushed back gently. Both you and Steve were in your own little blissful world, ignoring your friends’ whistling and clapping. You heard a bit of their commotion and giggled against Steve’s lips. His lips turned into a smile and the two of you kissed once more, this time smiling like lovesick idiots.

10 years later

You were sitting on the arm of the sofa, Steve’s broad arm safely wrapped around your waist. Looking across, you smiled while listening to Sam and Wanda tell their own rendition of homecoming night. As they finished, you looked down to the floor where Nat and Bucky were sitting, then disputing your other friends’ version and telling their own. Steve chuckled and waved a hand, “You guys did not set (y/n) and I up,” your husband rolled his eyes in faux annoyance.

Steve then looked up to you and tenderly squeezed your side, “We did that all on our own. Right, honey?”

You nodded and placed a peck on his lips. Suddenly a high pitched squeal sounded and you looked back down to the floor seeing your daughter pointing to the picture of you and Steve kissing on the dance floor.

Tonight was the anniversary of your homecoming and you and Steve thought it would be fun to have your friends over to remember the night. Over the years, Nat and Bucky, and Wanda and Sam have stayed in touch, and quite frankly, they have become your family. Your daughter was currently flipping through the album from your homecoming night. Peering over her shoulder were two kids, Wanda and Sam’s son, and Bucky and Nat’s daughter. The three of them giggled and babbled amongst themselves. Bucky scooted closer to the kids, telling them about each picture they pointed to. You blissfully sighed, a small smile on your lips as you looked over your family. Steve noticed your loving gaze and ran his thumb along your side.

“We did it, babe.”

Taking his face in your hand, you kissed his forehead.

“We really did.”

a/n: I apologize for any mistakes, I may have been too lazy to proofread heh heh...

taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94​ @calirindo​ @aubreeskailynn​ @lady-elena-adeline​

If I’ve messed up the taglist somehow, let me know! 

[footballfanfictions]

The thrill of the chase - Chapter Two

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Authors Note: Sorry that this has taken a little longer than anticipated and thank you so much for all the love for the first part.

--------------------------------------------------------------

One of the main drawbacks of working with social media, is that you are always on social media and you’re constantly bombarded with information and images that make you feel downright crap about yourself.

I’d been asked to take over the instagram page of one of the high profile players at the club and his entire feed was just one supermodel and influencer after the other with the odd footballer thrown in to balance it out. They were all so stunning that it truly made me feel awful about myself, how could it not? My salary was pretty good for a new graduate but not quite good enough for weekly manicures, lip fillers and hair extensions and my time management wouldn’t stretch for that either, I barely made my eyebrow wax appointments.

I was trying to avoid looking at the player’s DMs while I posted a few pictures from the pre-season training sessions to his feed, but the notifications pinging every few minutes was getting quite annoying.

Has it been Brianna with access to his account and not me, she would have gone straight to his messages to read them. I preferred to live in blissful ignorance to the sleazy ways of the men around me. I already felt like finding a good guy was absolutely hopeless.

I had been renting a flat and I was saving for a deposit to buy a house, hoping that by the time I had saved up enough to buy that I would have found the right person to live with. If I were to attempt this alone, with London house prices I would be around  60 by the time I had saved enough alone.

The message notifications continued to come in and whoever Sam was, she was really keen.

I logged out after posting the final image and prayed I wouldn’t have to go into it again. The less I knew about their private lives, the better. It would be pretty awkward to be sat in the staff and players’ family box at a game knowing that the wife of someone I knew was cheating was close by. Best to steer clear of those complications.

Brianna hadn’t visited my office at all and by 12 I was both worried and hungry and decided to go looking for her.

I tried the kit room first but it was empty and surprisingly tidy. Dave kept a tight ship and liked everything to be in its place but it wasn’t often possible with the sheer volume of kits that needed to be looked after.

As I backed out of the kit room and closed the door, I felt something hit me in the back.

“Sorry” mumbled the voice from behind me. “I was looking for Dave, I need a new top.”

I knew who it was but I didn’t really want to turn around and look at him.

“They’re not in there, I was just looking for him and Brianna too.” I responded in an emotionless tone, shrugging.

“Why are you being so weird?” he asked.

I turned to face him then and gave him a look of contempt before I answered him. “Maybe I just don’t enjoy spending time around footballers?”

“No offence love, but I think you might be in the wrong job if that is the case.” he put his hand on the door, next to my head where I was practically pinned against the door by how close he was to me. Only then did I realise that the training top that he was wearing was ripped, front he shoulder to his navel, the material hanging and exposing his toned chest and abs. I tried to look away but he had caught me looking and was now smirking.

“Maybe it’s just you that puts me off.” I shrugged as I ducked under his arm, escaping from my position between him and the door.

“You really don’t like me?” He huffed. “I don’t remember doing anything to offend you personally.”

“Maybe I’m offended that privileged young lads get money, fame and praise just for kicking a ball around a muddy field. Try something more impressive, like curing cancer or performing life saving surgery, ending world hunger, ending wars.” I groaned in frustration. Maybe that was the truth of it. Why should he get all the praise and admiration that he got, just for playing a sport? There were so many incredible people in the world doing, or working towards the things in that list that never got half the praise that Mason Mount did for kicking a ball.

He looked a bit dumb struck.

I went in again, “Maybe I don’t like you assuming that I should be into you, just because you’re Mason Mount, England and Chelsea midfielder. Maybe that’s what the girls in the club that throw themselves at your feet are into, but it’s not for me.”

I made to leave and he grabbed my hand and mumbled, “Sorry, I’ll leave you alone from now on.”

I didn’t respond. Just pulled my hand from his and stormed off towards the boot room, leaving him outside of the kit room in his ripped shirt.

“Fuck it smells like feet in here.” I complained, walking into the boot room with my nose pinched between my fingers in disgust.

“When I said that I liked shoes to dad, this is not what I meant.” Brianna laughed.

“What are you doing in here, I didn’t think boots were part of your job?” I asked, perching on one of the benches while Bri sat on the floor, sorting through a massive pile of boots to try and match up the pairs. They were in all sorts of bright colours and differing sizes. If I had to guess, I’d guess that she had been at her task for hours.

“Dad and the boot guy had some sort of emergency” she shrugged.

I laughed at that, wondering what kind of emergency you could have that involved kits and boots. Maybe they hadn’t ordered the right brand or something and one of the stars wasn’t going to get his cash from his boot deal if they didn’t find him the right pair.

There was a little tap on the sliding glass door that lead out onto the pitches and stood there was the guy from the other day that had held the door to the cafeteria open for us. He looked a little sheepish.

“Are you going to let him in?” I asked Bri, trying to unbury her from the pile of boots by throwing some of them into a pile, all of the orange ones in one corner, the yellow in another pile and pink in another and so on.

“Oh yeah.” she said, standing and brushing herself off, and adjusting her skirt that rode up her thighs slightly. The guy had noticed and I watched as he tried to look away and then down at his feet. At first I hadn’t thought that his shyness was that genuine. Footballers were all confident cocky little shits in my book, I’d never met one that was shy and unsure of himself.

Bri unlocked the door and let him in.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but only one of these fits” he said, holding up a pair of lime green boots and giving Bri an apologetic smile.

“Oh shit” she said, taking the pair from him and inspecting them. “I’ve given you one 10 and one 9.5.” she looked through the pile of lime green boots until she said “aha!” triumphantly brandishing another size 10 boot. “Here you go my love.”

That as just Bri’s way, she called everyone little pet names all the time, but he didn’t know that and he was blushing profusely and I was almost certain that his hands were shaking as he laced the boots up.

“Thank you so much.” he mumbled, looking like he was about to die of embarrassment. He turned to walk back out of the sliding door, but hadn’t realised that Bri had shut it behind him, so he ended up walking straight into the glass, hitting it with enough force to emmit a cracking noise from his nose which was suddenly streaming with blood.

I jumped up from my seat and crossed the room to him, avoiding the piles of boots the best that I could, not wanting to add myself to the casualty list.

I had an unused tissue in my pocket, that I took out and pressed to his nose. It was instantly bright red and the blood poured straight through it.

“Bri can you go and warn the medical room that we need to bring him down?” I asked.

She nodded in agreement and rushed out of the room.

I put my arm around his waist and guided him back over to the benches. He sat down and I slipped my cardigan off. It was a very thin material and already a deep shade of red. I didn’t let him protest as I replaced the tissue with my cardigan. It was the best that we had, and he looked like he was in a lot of pain.

“I’ve never seen anyone get that flustered before.” i laughed, sitting down beside him. He managed to give me a pained grin.

‘It’s Bri isn’t it? Is she why you were waiting by the canteen door the other day?” I asked gently, patting him reassuringly on the back. “I wanted to send her out of the room so that I could ask you, and also to reassure you that you shouldn’t be embarrassed about this. I’ve seen Bri do a lot more embarrassing things. She’s always falling over and hurting herself. You would make quite the pair.” I laughed.

He shook his head and mumbled “I can’t ask her out”.

“Why the hell not?” i scoffed.

“She has a boyfriend doesn’t she?” he shrugged, looking really sombre.

“Ah no, not anymore. Things are definitely over between her and that prick, and between you and me, if she ever gets back together with him, I’ll give her a matching broken nose.” I bumped shoulders with his, trying to cheer him up, just as Bri came back into the room and told us that the medical room were waiting for him.

“Can you come with me?” he asked, not talking to Bri, but to me instead.

“Sure, I would do anything to get out of work this afternoon. Our twitter page today is just full of fans that are disappointed that we didn’t use the Hazard money to sign Messi.” I laughed, getting up and guiding him towards the door.

“Can we catch up later?” I asked Bri before leaving the room, she nodded and told me she would be free all evening.

As we walked down the corridor I said to him “See, no plans to see a boyfriend” and he blushed again.

One of the medical assistants rushed out to meet us and guided him into the room exclaiming “Billy, what the hell? How have you done that?”

He shrugged, clearly feeling embarrassed about how he had injured himself. So when they looked over at me for clarification, I shrugged too.

Billy wasn’t the only player needing the use of the treatment room. As he sat down on one of the chairs, I noticed that Ben was in there too.

The medic went about dabbing Billy’s nose and he cried out in pain.

“Sorry about your cardigan.” he said, looking down at the red material on his lap. He didn’t need it now that he was getting patched up.

“Honestly don’t worry about it Billy.” I grinned.

The medic then mumbled something about needing something and left the room.

That gave Billy a bit more confidence to talk about what had happened.

“And thank you for the advice about your friend.” Billy seemed a bit happier as he said that, and I could see Ben out of the corner of my eye looking over at us as Billy spoke.

“Please tell me you’re going to ask her out!” Ben laughed.

I turned to look at him and smiled. “You know?”

Ben nodded and looked at Billy with a horrified expression “Oh god, you asked her out and she punched you.”

I shook my head. “Not exactly.” I said.

“The boyfriend was here for some reason, and he punched you?’ Ben went on, standing up and coming over to Billy. He walked with a slight limp.

He stood in between us.

“Why are you in here if you don’t mind me asking?” I looked down at his leg while asking the question.

“It’s my hamstring, nothing too serious.” He smiled.

“Don’t laugh at me when I tell you how I did this.” Billy warned, pointing at his nose. “I walked into a sliding glass door that I thought was open, all because she gave me a pair of boots and called me love.” he groaned, covering his face in embarrassment.

Ben laughed and clapped Billy on the back with his hand. “Oh mate, no wonder you’re embarrassed.” he then addressed me, asking “Just how cringy was it?”

I shook my head before answering him, “I honestly don’t think it was that bad. Bri is pretty oblivious sometimes and I don’t actually think she realised the real reason for you hurting yourself. So if you were to pluck up the courage to speak to her, I wouldn’t even bring it up.”

_________________________________________________________

The next day, I was looking out at the training pitches while I waited for the coffee machine to finish making my drink when there was a gentle tap on my door.

I crossed the room and opened it, expecting it to Bri or maybe even the club photographer giving me some new pictures of the squad to use, but it was Ben.

“Hi, are you free?” he asked, giving me one of his sweet smiles.

“Yeah come in.” I said, stepping back into my office and letting him pass me so that I could hold the door open.

“That coffee smells nice”. He remarked.

“Do you want one? Or did I put you off the other day?” I smiled.

“Ah no thanks, and no you didn’t put me off. I’ve never really liked the stuff. I like the smell of coffee, it just doesn’t taste as good as it smells.” as he spoke I realised that he was holding something in a plastic bag.

He realised that I was looking at it. “It’s your cardigan. I washed it for you at home. Think I got all the blood out but it’s red so I can’t really tell.”

I was for once, speechless. It was a small gesture but it was really kind all the same. I thought about making a witty remark about it actually being his mother or an employed cleaner that washed it for him but I just couldn’t bring myself to.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. It’s only an old primark cardigan.” I said, taking the bag from him.

I suddenly felt a bit flustered in his company. He had that charming smile and didn’t really look like a cocky footballer to me. He didn’t act like one much either, he was just kind of like the guy next door, or the guy you would see on Tinder with a picture of him with his mates at the only photo on the profile so you couldn’t tell which one you were swiping for.

In all honesty, he kind of reminded me of my ex boyfriend Rory. He had the same sort of look, and they had similar accents. Maybe it was nostalgia that made me find being around Ben comforting.

‘I think your coffee is done.” he said, gesturing to the machine.

I nodded and walked over to the machine, taking the cup and adding some creamer and sugar. As I stirred the cup, he leant against my desk and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Something is bothering me if I’m honest.” he said.

“What is it?” I asked curiously.

“Mason said that you told him that you hate all footballers because we’re privileged and get too much clout for what we do.” He looked slightly disappointed in me. “Thing is, I don’t entirely disagree with you. Maybe we do get paid too much for what we do, and maybe doctors and nurses deserve way more praise than we do. I also don’t think that you hate all footballers. You were really kind to Blly yesterday and he won’t forget that in a hurry. You really helped him.” he continued.

“I don’t hate Billy, and I don’t think I hate you either.” I said quietly, taking a sip of my coffee.

“That is interesting.” he grinned, as he took one of my hands and guided me over to him, to stand in between his legs where he now sat on the edge of my desk.

Instinctively I put my coffee cup down and he put his arms around my waist.

“It’s interesting?-” he cut me off before I could say anything else, by pressing his lips against mine. The kiss is soft and gentle and lasts only a few seconds. He testing me and my brain is going in so many different directions. Am I actually going back on all of my principles and kissing a fucking footballer right now? And am I only doing it because he reminds me of my ex?

He moves to pull away, breaking the contact between our lips and I let out the tiniest whimper before putting my hand on the back of his head and pulling him back in for more. This time his tongue slips past my parted lips. My hand at the back of his head grips a generous handful of his hair and one of his hands makes its way to my bum.

My body feels like it is on fire. It has been a bloody long time since anyone kissed or touched me, and I hadn’t quite realised just how starved of affection I had been until I got a taste of it, a taste of him.

The telephone on my desk started to ring,and although I tried to ignore it, I just couldn’t. My job meant a lot to me and if it were Marina or someone of equal importance I would be chastised for missing the call.

We broke the kiss at the same time and I apologised to him. He grinned and fired back that I didn’t need to apologise and that he needed to get back to training, and by the time I picked up the phone, he was gone.

[awesomerextyphoon]

Slit Reflection

This is my entry for @jtargaryen18​​’s Haunted House 2020 Challenge. Mine was Sam Wilson. Credit for dividers goes to @firefly-graphics​. Check them out!

Summary: You’ve always loved Halloween, especially the haunted house at the edge of the woods. So happens when the ‘Star Spangled Trio’ enters the mix?

Pairing: Demon King!Sam Wilson x  Black!Reader (Fem)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 3,054

Warning: Kidnapping, Forced Marriage, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Stalking, Breeding Kink, Mentions of Torture, and Non-Con/Dub-Con Smut. You have been warned.

Back to Masterlist

You’ve always loved Halloween. It was your birthday and the haunted house at the edge of the woods gave the best spooks and thrills. It was your first Halloween after undergrad and this year was different.

The Star Spangled Trio were celebrity guests and they were bringing two of the old rooms back!

It took you six days to get a ticket. You tried getting one online, every shop in town, but got nothing.

Finally, a new face at the library took pity on you and gave you the last ticket along with a book on demon folklore. You thanked the new librarian and rushed out of the building. Had you looked back you would’ve noticed a smirk on their face and their sclera and pupils turning black and gold respectively.

Halloween—the day of your birth—was here, and it was shit. Your toothbrush broke, your car refused to start, the job that you desperately wanted was dashed by yet another rejection email, and both your student loan and rent checks bounced. You just need to get through today.

You missed the cutoff, but got in because the person working the line was a family friend. Anxiously, you wait in line wondering how the haunted house in your small ass town managed to nab the Star Spangled Trio when you noticed the excited expressions of the people leaving. Now you’re super anxious.

By the time you entered the haunted house, you’re doing the breathing exercises to calm yourself. This was it! You were finally going to meet your all time heroes (and possible spank bank entries)!

The first few rooms were your typical haunted house fare which you loved, but were secondary to your excitement in seeing your heroes. Maybe you could get an autograph and hug from them!

You were about to follow the person in front of you into the haunted house’s hospital room when you noticed a light flickering to your left. It revealed a door done in the Neo-classical design with some Latin text engraved in the middle (had you studied Latin , you would’ve known that the text read “Reveal yourself, my beloved”).

Opening the door, you saw that it lead to the Hall of Mirrors. This part of the haunted house was always a favorite of yours, but both the itinerary and the ticket worker said that it was closed this year. The hall itself was chillingly quite and pristine as if no one else had stepped foot inside this season.

All of the mirrors looked standard for the haunted house; some of them made you laugh or briefly catch your breath. The one at the end of the hall caught you off-guard. It was at least 12ft (about 3.66m) high with intricate carvings of characters out of dark folklore and a single diagonal slit.

You were about to turn away when you saw nothing thinking it was a small haunted house joke at your expense when the mirror flashed.

In your place was the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen, but it still looked like you..sort of. Your hair was long, luxurious and gently flowing. Your eyebrows, eyelashes, and nails were immaculate. Your nose was adorably broad and your lips were sensually full (the type of full women would shell hundred’s if not thousands of dollars for). You wore a diadem with thick gold chains ladened with diamonds, onyx, and rubies and around your neck was a ruby and onyx amulet. You were dressed in a loose, yet sleeveless form-fitting Vivaldi red gown with hints of fiery red and a thin rosewood colored shoulder veil connected to the dress by a ruby broach in the middle of your cleavage.

You looked about four or five inches taller and the mirror version of you made you feel nervous about your curves being out on display.

Curious, you reached out to touch the mirror. Your hand was less than a centimeter away when your mirrored self opened it eyes. Suddenly, it grew curved horns and its eyes glowed pale gold.

The mirrored version of you grabbed your outstretched arm and dragged you through the mirror all while you screamed hoping someone would come to your rescue, but to no avail.

Samael, or ‘Sam’ was notified of your departure and the trio had to excuse themselves from the festivities to congratulate Sam on finding his bride.

You woke up with a start and shout clawing the air but stopped once you realized that you weren’t falling anymore. Instead, you were in a huge, opulent room filled with treasures that not even Windsor Castle had. Curiosity seemed to have taken hold of you because you walked out onto the connecting balcony to find that you were on a different planet/dimension/realm, whatever!

There were floating landmasses (the smallest of which was the size of your small town) and five planets ranging from Moonbow Gold to Venetian Red in color.

You thought about where the fuck you were and how you could get back home when a voice interrupted your thoughts.

The source of the voice was a demon with Antique Ruby skin with reddish gray undertones and Cinnabar and Rosewood colored hair. She had two short outward curved horns with a gold chain and aquamarine teardrop connecting them. Her eyes were an inviting aqua blue eyes with a dark red sclera.

“Hello! My name is Scheherazade, but you can call me Sherry. I’m your Lady in Waiting. I’ve brought some food.” Sherry offered as she set the tray of food on a small table next to a dresser.

You smiled cautiously at your new elevated handmaiden,”Do you know why I’m-”

“Oh, I almost forgot! We need to get you ready for your presentation!”

The Fuck?!

“What do you mean ‘presentation’?,” you asked as nicely as possible, but reality came out more like a demand.  

Sherry stopped her ministrations and faced you,”Well, when the monarch, crown prince, or princess declares their mate, they are presented to the royal court,” she then returned to her task of finding a suitable dress for you not catching the mortified expression on your face.

This day can’t get any worse. Wait?

“What time is it?”

“Oh, yes, It’s pretty much always night here. The sun only comes out for three hours. Would you look at the time! Everyone’s waiting!”

“One last question,” you started as Sherry began dressing you,”Who am I marrying?”

“Why my second cousin, King Samael, one of the Three Demon Kings,  of course!”

You fought the impulse to faint.

It took thirty minutes for Sherry to make you look unrecognizable. Thankful for her assistance, you followed the floating torches to the throne room. The throne room was an enormous room with high wide vaulted arches, delicately carved pillars and columns, and a small bridge connecting the ground at the door to the center. The court comprised of beautiful yet fearsome demons of all shapes and sizes.

The king himself was seated on a grand, ornate throne atop a huge dais with at least 25 steps. He seemed familiar.

As soon as you were passed the threshold, the king raised his head and everyone stopped talking and cleared a path for you. Several courtiers whispered as you striddled towards the dais. When you finally reached the dais, the king got off his throne and walked down the steps to greet you.

You almost face-palmed. The king was Sam Wilson! Or at least, looked like him.  

Sam for his part was devastatingly handsome. He had a tall, powerful build, broad shoulders, bulging biceps, muscular thighs, short well-kept hair and beard with surprisingly kind eyes.  

“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” Sam uttered as he pulled you in for a hug. You could’ve sworn he sniffed your hair, but you didn’t want to go into that right now.

“Everyone!” The court turned to the throne,” Thank you for coming. I have finally found my bride. We will be married tomorrow night!” Sam exclaimed to thunderous cheers and applause. He slipped on a magnificent ruby and diamond engagement ring with a black gold band.

You could not believe this, “I can’t-,” you started, but Sam discreetly grabbed your wrist, “Pre-wedding jitters,” and led you to a side room.

You expected him to hit or yell at you like so many other royals in a similar setting, but instead he gave a sad smile and asked if you were truly happy in your old life. You thought about your crushing debt, little to no job prospects, both parents dead, no friends and you had to admit your life did suck, but he didn’t get to decide.

Disappointed, Sam casted a small compliance spell and pulled you in for a kiss. Your pupils blew out in lust and you lost yourself. When he finally decided to break for air, Sam stated that you will be his bride and he will not be denied any longer. You smiled and gave him a short but passionate kiss. He moaned but had to end it before he went too far.

Tomorrow night he promised himself.

He quickly called for Sherry to return you  to your quarters.

Sherry woke you up the next ‘morning’ with a small army of beauty experts and maids.

“Rise and shine, Your Grace! We’ve got a bride to present!” Sherry proclaimed.

Damn it! It wasn’t a nightmare.

They managed to stuff you into a marvel of a wedding dress. It was a Torch Red long-sleeved mermaid wedding dress with soft yet detailed lace work made to look like an enchanted forest, diamond, dark ruby and pearl beads, and a floor length train. On your head was a black gold spiked sunburst goddess with deep ruby roses and a simple ruby teardrop chain that rested on your forehead, the ends of which were wrapped around your horns.

“Not even Lilith could compare, Your Grace!” Sherry gushed at her handiwork.

The wedding procession and ceremony was done in a swift fashion as Sam didn’t want to wait much longer. The vows were short as well. You wanted to object, call for help, anything but a voice in the back of your mind beat you to it.  

A couple hours into the wedding festivities, Sam announced that it was time for he and his new queen to retire and led you to his quarters. It’s the fanciest suite you’ve ever seen dripping with luxurious reds, violets, and obsidian.

In all your awing of Sam’s quarters, you failed to notice him approaching you in only a simple loose shirt and trousers. He gently put his hands on your exposed shoulders,”Alone at last, my love.”

You recoiled, “Can’t we wait for a few days? It’s just…” you trailed off as soon as his jovial expression vanished replaced with something darker and hungrier.

“I’ve waited for so long to have you here with me, love,”  Sam confessed while you moved towards the exit,”and I will not be denied any longer!”

In an instant, Sam pulled you in for a demanding kiss. He pushed his tongue past your lips moaning when your tongue tepidly danced with his own and from the sweet taste of your mouth. He pushed you onto a bed that had to three times the size of a California King and his lips moved jaw and neck, egged on by needy whimpers and moans.

He took his time ripping off your gown, enjoying the view like a child on Christmas, ”Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Utter perfection,” Sam murmured as he watched your breasts bounced free. He alternated between sucking and pinching your nipples with his hands and mouth,”I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he whispered in your left ear and he continued to play with your breasts like a concert-level musician. All the while moaned and cried out feeling pleasure you never thought possible.

Once satisfied with his handiwork with your chest, Sam’s hands roamed over your stomach and hips followed by strategically placed butterfly kisses that made you squirm. He tore off the last of your wedding gown causing you to hiss at the sudden sensation of cold air touching your pussy.

You used your last bit of willpower to plead, “Please stop! I’ve never-,” Sam stopped and raised his head to look at you.

“I know, love. I’ll be your first and only,” and with that, he gives your folds one long, slow lick and growled at your sweet and tangy taste, “I’ve wondered how you’d taste. You’re even better than the best Kharian wine. I could get used to this.”

He dove back in and played your pussy for all it was worth. His tongue worked its magic stroking and circling your clit sending you higher and higher into euphoria. Sam kept you right on the edge of an orgasm, just enough to beg for release.

“Say you’re mine!,” you mewled in response, to blissed out to use words. “Say it or I’ll leave!”

“Please let me cum, My King!” you cried out when he thrusted two fingers into your pussy.

“That’s a good girl. Now,”Sam started as he vigorously rubbed your pussy,”cum for me, love.”

Your orgasm came like a tsunami and Sam made sure finish his feast.

You got out of your post-oral haze to see Sam looming over in all his naked glory. His body must’ve been made by the gods because it was divine. His frame was an ode to sexiness wrapped in sinful warm sepia skin.

Sam caught you biting your lower lip and cocked his head, “Like what you see?”

Damn that cocky bastard, but damn if he wasn’t right. Part of you wanted to fuck his brains out…and that was before you saw his cock. Standing proud and erect with angry veins, his cock had to be the biggest you’ve ever seen (not like you had much exposure, just a few pornos).

Sam crawled up to you, lifted your chin and gave a soft kiss on the lips sensing your unease, “Relax, love,” He then lined his cock to your entrance and slid in as gently as he could.

You hissed from the pain, he was just so damn big. Sam praised you on how well you fit around him like ‘you were made for him’. Once the pain subsided, you bucked your hips into his causing him to moan at the sensation. He smiled at your eagerness and picked up the pace, making his thrusts come out to just the tip was in you and slamming back into you. You cried out his name each time he filled you to the hilt, pleading with him to go faster. Soon he reached your G-Spot causing to orgasm again, this time with you crossing your eyes and coming with a squirt.

Not too long after your second orgasm, Sam came with an otherworldly roar and glowing bright gold eyes shooting rope after rope of thick cum into your womb. He then flipped you onto your stomach and forced you onto your hands and knees so that he could take you from behind.

He got ten orgasms from you, each one more mind-blowing than the last. Once he was satisfied, he let you sleep.

“Soon you will be round with my seed, and we will have many children. I can’t wait.”

Ah hour after you closed your eyes, Sam left his, now yours, quarters. “Make sure she doesn’t leave,” he orders the guards although, he’s confident that she’s not going anywhere with the way he hammered her.

He strode down the corridors until he reached the dungeon. There, he found a rather nice looking apartment-style cell with only one prisoner, your mother.

“I’ve taken your daughter. Do you want to see her before you go?”

You see, Samael, Mikael (Bucky), and Stelios (Steve) were demon warlords who began conquering kingdoms left and right 1200yrs ago. They fought their way to the last free kingdom, Kharan. By the time your grandparents were brought before them, they had killed your uncle, the heir to the throne. The king and queen begged for their lives and the kingdom to be spared.

The trio agreed on one condition: if the next child the queen bears is a girl, then she would be Sam’s mate (Mikael and Stelios already had mates).

The king reluctantly agreed. The queen gave birth four months later to a girl, but she was in demon form. The queen had two of her most trusted attendants spirit the child away to another realm and raised her as their own.

Sam had your grandparents slaughtered and razed Kharan to the ground for their trickery. No matter, he was immortal. He would bide his time.

Eventually, your mother was told about her true parentage and form. She learned to control her powers, found love and she too was with child.

Sam found her a week before she went into labor and said that it was time to collect. She promised you in her stead immediately in hopes that it would buy her some time.

It did. She was able to pass you, a cambion, off to a friend of hers who wanted a child but couldn’t conceive and gave Sam a fake baby. He had your mother thrown into the dungeons.

Sam searched for you, but discovered that your mother put a cloaking spell on you. So, he approached your mother with a deal: her freedom for you becoming his mate.

It took your mother three years of torture for her to say yes.

Once the spell was lifted, Sam went to work. He made sure your adopted parents had a little ‘accident’ when you were old enough to take care of yourself, made sure that no one would want to hire you, and saddled you with debt. He even got Mikael and Stelios to pose as ‘The Star Spangled Trio’ with him to finally get you to the Hall of Mirrors.

Your mother bowed her head in shame, “No. It’s best for her to believe that I don’t exist.”

Sam unlocked the cell door with a simple spell, “You’re free to go. Have a nice life,” and returned to his quarters to be with his mate and queen.

Your mother took one last look at the palace,”I’m sorry, my little moon and stars,” and disappeared into the night.

Taglist: @jtargaryen18​ @threeminutesoflife​​ @giorno-plays-piano​ @lookiamtrying​ @sherrybaby14​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @life-of-yn​ @mcudarklibrary​ @marvelfansworld​ @imdarkinme​ @sapphirescrolls​ @samingtonwilson​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @pseudonymphet​ @dahkness​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @golden-ariess​ @chixkencxrry​ @anyatheladyclown​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @saint-bvcky​ @cherienymphe​ @iguessweallcrazyithinktho​ @cockslut-padalecki​

[kinglazrus]

Not Your Danny – Ch 6. Obsessions

Previous | First | Next | FFN | AO3

Word count: 3109

Eventually, Dani has to go back to Fenton Works. She stays with Sam and Tucker at the mall for a few hours, enjoying their company; but, as the afternoon wanes and evening draws near, their hangout time comes to an end.

"I can't believe my parents are making me stick to a curfew. I'm eighteen. I didn't have a curfew a month ago," Sam says when she notices the time.

"A month ago, they didn't know you part-time as a ghost hunter. I can't believe they made your curfew eight," Tucker says.

They manage to hit a couple more stores before Sam has to go, and even swing by the food court again to grab some food-to-go. By the time Dani goes home, she has four bags of new clothes plus a box of pizza all to herself.

"Here." Tucker leans across the passenger seat and holds something out to Dani.

When she takes it, shuffling the shopping bags around her arms so she has a free hand, she notices that it's a cellphone. Basic, with a touch screen.

"It's pre-paid. I have a bunch, so don't worry about it. Mine and Sam's numbers are on there, so you can text us if you want to hang out again."

Dani clutches the phone to her chest. "Thank you."

"No problem."

Dani waits until Tucker has pulled away before turning toward the house. It's hard to tell with the curtains drawn, and the harsh glow of the Fenton Works sign splashed across the building, but it looks as if the lights are off inside. A quick scan of the street shows that Jazz's car is gone, although she could have parked around back, or by the garage instead. Dani heads up to the front door and tries the knob. It doesn't budge.

Rather than trying the doorbell or knocking, she goes intangible and walks right through the door. Inside, the lights are off, just as she suspected. She doesn’t bother turning them on. With her enhanced vision, she can see perfectly well in the dark, albeit in dark, muted shades.

In the kitchen, she finds a note from Jazz: Mom and Dad out testing weapons. I will be at Spike's. There's food in the fridge. Dani doesn't know who Spike is.

When she peeks in the fridge, she finds a tin-foiled plate of meatloaf waiting for her, as promised. She doesn't bother with it, though, taking her pizza up to Danny's room instead. The house without the Fentons there feels... pretty much the same. Without the ambient noise of Jazz's typing or Jack's distant footsteps, the house is far quieter than Dani has ever heard it. Even at night, Maddie's chainsaw snores—which surprises Dani more than it annoys her—keep the house from falling completely silent.

Now, there's nothing but Dani's soft breathing.

It's quiet, and yet, the house feels no less empty than it always does.

She deposits the shopping bags at the foot of Danny's bed and takes her pizza to his desk. Since arriving, she has cleared away enough clutter that the box can fit, although it's a tight squeeze. One side of the box rests on top of the keyboard. She looks between the greasy cardboard and the keys, wondering if it might wreck them. There shouldn't be enough grease that it will leak through, but she decides not to risk it.

Dani lifts the box and shoves the keyboard aside. It smacks into the base of the Challenger's display case, sending it toppling over the edge of the desk.

"No!" Dani throws herself out of the chair, reaching for the model. Her fingers skim the glass but miss. Blind panic fills her and something in her chest bursts. A bright glow launches from her palms and surrounds the case.

The model jerks to a stop a mere inch from the floor.

Dani's heart hammers in her chest. The horrible realization of what would have happened if she missed drains the blood from her face. Careful not to make any sudden moves, she pushes herself onto her knees, arms still outstretched. A thin thread connects the light surrounding her palm and the display case. It tugs on her, like a sixth finger, each movement sending an unfamiliar ripple up her arm.

Telekinesis is not a rare ability among ghosts. A common power, like intangibility, invisibility, and flight, more than half of all spectral entities have some form of it. But unlike those first powers, telekinesis can rely heavily on a ghost's power level and general skill. Where one ghost may struggle to move a toothpick, another can uproot a whole tree with nothing more than a thought.

Dani, until this moment, could not use it at all.

When she flexes her fingers, the model drifts toward her. The moment she has it in hand, the light disappears, and the model's weight hits her. Heavier than expected, enough that her arms bow under its sudden presence. She holds the model in a tight embrace as she rises to her feet. With her elbow, she pushes the keyboard out of the way to clear space and returns the display case to the desk.

After a moment's consideration, Dani nudges the model closer to the middle of the desk. Even if it makes things tighter, she doesn't want that to happen again

She returns to the chair, but rather than eating her pizza, her focus stays on the model. It looks undamaged inside the case, still fixed to its wooden base. At a glance, it seems sturdy enough that it could hold up to a bit of knocking around. A hard smash to the floor would probably do it in, though. The thought makes her stomach twist.

With most of Danny's things, their importance still eludes her. Now that she has her own clothes, and a phone, it's starting to dawn on her why people like things. It's nice, to speak frankly. Being able to have something, to keep it somewhere and return to it, is a nice feeling. But then there are feelings attached to the items, too.

Jack said this model was Danny's favourite. Dani has no way of knowing if she is right about why it was his favourite. It was only a guess based on what she knew of her cousin, what he thought of his parents. Danny didn't smile a lot when it came to them, at least not as far as Dani saw. Maddie and Jack rarely came up during cousin bonding time unless they came after Dani and Danny while they were hanging out. But, sometimes, Danny would smile so bright at the mention of his parents.

If he had done well on a test and they congratulated him. If they took him to the planetarium. If they went stargazing recently. None of these things happened often, but when they did, and Danny told her about them, his smile would be so bright Dani found it hard to look at.

Thinking about her new clothes, Dani wonders if the smile she can feel on her face is just as bright as Danny's had been.

"I'm sorry I lost the music player you got me," she says to the Challenger. "I didn't realize how important it could have been." She shrugged it off at the time. Even now, what little guilt she feels over it stems from losing something that could have been dear to her rather than something that wasdear.

How many things has she lost that could have been important? She already knows the answer: far too many.

—

Jazz was distracted during the funeral. She tried to hide it, but Jack knew his daughter all too well. As she gave her final goodbyes to Danny, she kept wiping her eyes and looking over the crowd, her gaze searching. Jack looked over his own shoulder a few times, trying to see what Jazz was searching for. He couldn’t find it, obviously.

There weren't many people in the crowd. Immediate family; Sam and Tucker, plus their parents; Valerie came, as well, along with Casper High's vice-principal. Jack had no other family to speak of besides his wife and children—now child. And the only relative still in contact with Maddie, her sister, could not make it in time. Jack understood although it hurt.

Over the past few months, Danny had grown closer with his aunt. Jack wasn't sure when it happened, and it took him a while to catch on. Maddie and Alicia spoke on the phone at least twice a month since Alicia didn't have a cellphone or internet. It was standard practice for Maddie to drag one of the kids into the conversation to say hi. Jazz always went willingly. Danny usually complained.

However, at some point, his complaints stopped. If Danny caught Maddie on the phone, he would eagerly jump into the conversation. He even started shooing out whoever was in the room. Jack blamed it on teenage antics. It wasn't until Jack caught the tail end of one of their conversations that he realized something had changed.

Danny sat at the kitchen table, phone to his ear. When Jack entered, he sat up straighter.

"I'll try and bring it up next time I see her. Not sure when that will be, but her birthday's coming up." Danny paused as the person on the other end replied, then nodded. "Cool. Bye Auntie Alicia, love you."

"Alicia? Don't you think your mother would have liked to say goodbye before you hung up?" Jack asked.

Danny set the phone down on the table. "That'd be weird since Mom didn't call her. Is she even home right now?"

Now that Jack thought about it, no, she wasn't. Maddie went to the store nearly an hour ago to buy cookie fixings. "Good point!" Now that Jack was paying attention, he saw the phone on the table was Danny's cell and not the house phone. "Was she leaving you a message for Maddie?"

"No, I called her."

"Plans for your mom's birthday next month?"

"Nope." Danny stood up and pocketed his phone. "I'm going to Sam's. See you later."

Jack paid more attention after that. There were other phone calls, always the same, where Danny would find somewhere private to talk. Sometimes he clammed up when Jack walked in and quickly ended the conversation. Once, Jack thought he caught Danny crying. It was late. Jack himself had only gotten home a little while ago thanks to a particularly nasty ghost attack that day. For nearly twenty minutes, he and Maddie had chased the ghost boy, trying to catch him while he was down. Phantom was a damn good flyer, though, even when injured.

The first thing Jack did when he got home was check on the kids, and that's how he found Danny curled up beside his bed, his phone cradled against his ear. Every blanket in the room was pulled tight around him.

"I don't know if I can do it anymore," Danny had said. "It keeps getting harder, and today I just–" his voice cracked.

The moment that followed was quiet. Not a single sob escaped Danny, but his shoulders shook. Jack was about to step inside when Alicia's voice, strong and steady, so loud in the silence, came from the phone.

"You're gonna be okay, kiddo."

Jack didn't go inside. Maybe he should have. Danny asked several times when they would be visiting Alicia next after the phone call. Every time he asked was like a punch to the got, but Jack never spoke up. If Danny wanted to come to him, then he could. If he was more comfortable talking to Alicia about this mystery problem, that was fine too.

He'll come to me when he needs to. Jack kept telling himself that until the day Danny died.

—

Jazz hoped she might see Dani in the crowd. A small part of her whispered that maybe she had missed Dani, glanced away right as she appeared. But, considering how few people were in attendance, that seemed unlikely. Beyond that, if a halfa did not want to get seen, they would not be seen.

Which brought Jazz to another guest she expected, although did not welcome: Vlad. Her worrying proved pointless, though, when he never showed up. As the lingering crowd thinned, Danny's friends and loved ones saying their final goodbyes, Jazz searched the heads once more. No red beanie or glowing white hair, and no pompous ponytail.

At the first opportunity, Jazz pulled Sam and Tucker aside. "Have either of you seen Dani?"

"Uh... is this some kind of joke?" Tucker asked. He glanced none too subtly toward the freshly filled grave. Sam at least had more tact and waited for Jazz to elaborate.

"Dani-with-an-i."

"Oh." Tucker shook his head. "No. We've been trying to contact her, but there isn't a great way to reach her. Left some messages with some ghosts, but that doesn't help if she's not in the Ghost Zone right now."

"She isn't." Jazz checked on the whereabouts of her parents. They were nearer the grave, speaking solemnly with Angela and Maurice Foley. Most importantly, they were well out of earshot. "I saw her at Fenton Works last night, but she ran away."

"Damn." Sam lifted the black veil hanging from her hat, revealing red eyes and smudged makeup. "I hope she's okay. Did she say anything before she left?"

Jazz hesitated. Although the whole exchange only lasted a few seconds, it had yet to leave her mind, for reasons she was ashamed to admit. And yet, no matter how guilty she felt about her initial reaction to Dani, she could not forget about it.

"No," she said. "Dani saw me and bolted. She might have thought I was my mom since it was so dark."

"We'll have to keep an eye out for her. I don't if she would stay without Danny here, but it's not like she has anywhere else to go, either," Sam said.

"I will, too. I thought she might show up here, but..."

"Sammykins!" Pamela Manson called from the cemetery gate. She tapped her wrist, although she wore no watch. "There's a crowd forming, dear."

Jazz grimaced at the sight beyond the funeral gates. A small gathering of Danny Phantom fans stood on the sidewalk, some bearing signs, all dressed for mourning. It was the most inappropriate display she had ever seen. None of them had breached the cemetery, but Jazz suspected that was because of the hired security standing at the gate and not the onlooker's own sense of morality.

She dreaded what the crowd might do as soon as she and her family left.

Sam scowled. "I can't believe them. I get if they want to mourn the local hero, but this is such gross behaviour." She looked remarkably like her mother as she hissed those words, her lip curling in disgust as she glared at the onlookers.

Jazz agreed wholeheartedly.

"I'll text you as soon as my mom takes me off house arrest," Sam told Tucker. "Jazz, let us know if you see Dani again. I'll sleep a little easier knowing she's alright."

Jazz nodded and gave her guarantee.

—

Vlad has lost obsessions before. Most well-balanced ghosts have. Any experienced ghost knows to have a few central obsessions and a handful of smaller ones. Latch on to a passing interest hard enough and all it takes is a little dedication to turn that into a full-blown obsession. Then, once it becomes tedious, let it go and move on to something else.

There have been some obsessions that he lost against his will. He once had a bonsai tree, a nice juniper, that he loved dearly. It went up in flames with his Wisconsin mansion the first time Danny destroyed his home. Vlad felt the loss like a bitter sting. At the same time, his determination to capture Danny for himself only grew, overwhelming painful prickle. Every slight against him only fuelled his desire more. Never had he fought so hard for something without immediate success. It made the game that much more fun.

And it was a game. Danny learned fast, but there was so much he didn't know, couldn't do. It was so easy to toy with him, egg him on, guide him to new abilities. The potential within him was limitless. Vlad could have overwhelmed Danny in seconds but there's no fun in that.

Perhaps that's why it was so easy for his other obsessions to slip away without him noticing.

He drifts through the halls of his mansion, familiar yet alien at the same time. On the landing, he drags his hand along the bannister, dust gathering against his fingers. His limb flickers, wispy blue, jumping sporadically in and out of intangibility. He designed the balustrades himself, inspired by the first twisted haunts he discovered within the Ghost Zone.

The wood cracks and splinters as his fingers solidify while passing through.

Before him, the front hall looms. Vast, open, a point of pride in every mansion he has owned. Better to impress the guests with a grand display upon entry. Now he finds it suffocating. All his hours of work, his obsessions wasted. Where simply looking upon his walls once filled him with pride, now they sicken him.

There is nothing for him here.

He went to such desperate lengths. Threats, bribery, manipulation, cloning. Nothing ever worked. Each new failure cut him deeper, made him more desperate, more eager. No. No, that wasn't right. He was subtle, clever, controlling an oblivious pawn in a cruel game. The winner, the mastermind. The cloak, not the dagger. The cat, not the mouse. But still always losing. Surely something he had to work this hard for, harder than anything in his life, had to be worth it.

And then, in an instant, in the span of an ectoblast, his obsession died.

"Maddie." Vlad moans, voice breaking. "Maddie. Maddie. Maddie." His please reach no one who cares. All his attempts to reach out, reforge that connection they once had, have been rebuffed.

"Maddie." Once, not so long ago, the sound of her name alone was enough to light his core ablaze.

But when, when, when, how, somewhere along the way that warmth died.

"Madeline, I need you." Please, please. Don't leave me to this. Don't go.

The cold wind whips against him, not unusual for an October day, but it startles him, nonetheless. He hunches halfway down the drive, the empty halls of his mansion long behind. He could return home, but... no. Home won't help him now.

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[vanderlustwords]

Liquor and Loose Lips

(not my gif)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Prompt: 15. Drunkenly confessing feelings

Summary: There are countless times Bucky has shared drinks with you. No matter how much he drinks, he’s always careful with guarding his feelings close to his chest. Maybe it’s the cocktail, maybe it’s the way the moon looks tonight, maybe it’s the way you look under the streetlight. Whatever it is, Bucky can’t hold it in anymore.

Note: My first Bucky fic! Feedback is always appreciated :) oneshot dedicated to @empyreanwritings​

Count: 2432

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Tequila.

Not Bucky's go-to ever, but he'll drink it if someone offers. 

Vodka.

A taste he's grown to love. During his time when he studied in Russia, there was probably nothing better to drink and help pass the time. 

Rum.

He likes it, but mostly because when he drinks it, he thinks this is what you'd taste like.

And that might be as close as he can get.

Whiskey.

Bucky finds himself in a fight when he has too much. 

Cocktails. 

No one could probably tell, but Bucky did have a specific cocktail. Something he enjoyed at a leisurely pace. A blend of rye whiskey, extra dry vermouth, and maraschino liqueur. He likes that it's smooth, it's dry bite keeping him coming back. 

Bucky has a high tolerance, he always has. No one could outdrink him, and you'd be hard-pressed ever to find him drunk. But he likes a good party. He likes being able to take care of you if you drank too much, even though it's not really his job.

Because you're not his girl. 

"Bucky!"

He turns over to see you coming over with a huge grin and rosy cheeks.

"Are you drunk already, doll?" He laughs as you stumble into him at your last step, fumbling over a faulty tile. He catches you easily as he wraps one of his arms around you as you fling your arms around his waist.

"God, no, maybe, yes, no," you decidedly answer with a laugh. "I think Tony poured me way too much rum in my last drink."

"And you drank it?"

"You know I love rum."

Bucky merely sighs playfully, painfully aware of how warm your body feels against his. How perfectly you fit under his arm and into his side. His fingers ache to flex, to hold you more tightly, but he can't. 

So, he helps you stand upright as you cheekily blow a raspberry at him.

"Careful now, you don't want to finish off so early when the night's just begun," Bucky tells you, and you blow air out of your mouth before grabbing a water bottle. 

"C'mon, it's my first party since the breakup. Surely this is better than having to hang inside watching b-rated chick flicks, eating an unhealthy amount of pizza and ice cream while I cry," you wryly quirk your lips.

But Bucky doesn't say that he secretly enjoyed those times.

Not you crying.

That was awful, and it broke his heart to see you cry like that. But there was something about hanging in your apartment for long periods with nothing to do but watch movies and eat together.

It was like on some level, only the two of you existed in those moments. It helped that you would snuggle up to Bucky under the blankets, and sometimes even fell asleep.

"You sure you're up for tonight? I know Sam is here too," Bucky asked quietly. 

You sighed but shook your head. "I can't avoid him anymore. Besides, I can't keep you locked up with me forever, either."

Bucky wishes he could say he wouldn't mind. 

He looks at you, watching as your turn to your head to look out into the living room where Sam is standing talking with a bunch of guys.

For the longest time, you were Sam's girl. 

Bucky has known you since pre-K, then Sam came in the picture in junior high, and when the two of you started dating in high school, everyone was surprised.

It was no secret that Sam was a notorious player, never have been in a long-term relationship. But the two of you had always clicked, and Bucky couldn't help but feel that it was like a cliche movie. 

The player settles down for the one girl who's always been by his side and keeps up with him the way no one else can.

Bucky was convinced this was only destined to end happily ever after. 

And so, he kept quiet about his feelings.

But then midway through the first year of university, Sam broke up with you. Sitting on the couch crying your eyes out, you had told Bucky that Sam said he just wasn't ready for a relationship right now. It was amicable, you didn't hate Sam, but it had also hurt a lot. He didn't know what to say when you had said that perhaps you just weren't the girl who could get a player to retire from his game. 

It made Bucky's chest ache painfully because he's stopped looking at other girls for a long time now. 

"Alright," Bucky decides, "finish up that water bottle, and we're going to find some duds to destroy beer pong at."

You smile at him, tipping the water bottle all the way up as you finish the last of it. Chucking the water bottle aside, you take Bucky's outstretched hand as he leads you into the living room. 

You pass Sam, giving him only a nod of acknowledgment as you keep walking. You hear Bucky give him a brief greeting, but he doesn't stop to chit-chat with his friend.

Entering the area for games, the two of you arrive just in time to enter into a new game with two strangers that seemed to have been dominating the game the entire night.

The two frat boys looked at you, making wolf-whistling sounds that made Bucky quirk his brow. You didn't react to it, but you did meet Bucky's eyes from the side. He gave you a knowing smile as the game started.

Sinking cup after cup, the game ends way too quickly, and the frat boys aren't too happy about being trounced, but they're not willing to start something with Bucky Barnes, so they leave quietly.

Bucky starts to walk off, but you pull his sleeve.

"Let's play a couple more rounds," you smile at him. He tilts his head, a little surprised as you usually don't like to play the same game in a row, but he nods nonetheless.

Seven rounds. 

You don't call it quits until after seven rounds. With Bucky by your side, you never lose a game, but you are feeling buzzed again. 

"Done with the games?" Bucky teases.

You're about to answer, but the words get caught in your throat. 

You probably weren't meant to see it, but you did. Sam's on the dance floor with some girl you don't recognize, she might be in her second year of university. 

They're grinding and kissing, and even though you're pretty sure you're starting to move on, it still hits you in the gut. 

There's a momentary flashback to when Sam first broke up with you and the painful feeling of knowing somehow, you weren't enough. 

You know Sam didn't mean it that way, but that's how it felt.

Bucky follows your line of sight and feels his gut sink. He doesn't know what to do other than to move to stand in front of you. You blink, your view being blocked as you look into Bucky's eyes.

"Let's grab some drinks," Bucky turns you around, pushing you towards the kitchen. 

He thinks it might still be too early for you to be out and partying when you've got a broken heart, but when you don't cry, he's impressed.

You swallow the lump in your throat, coughing lightly to clear your throat as you turn to Bucky. 

"This party blows," you tell him, watching him quirk his brow with a smile. "You know, Tony has the good stuff up in his study room."

You don't say anything, but Bucky grins right away, knowing what you're insinuating.

"Meet me out back?" You lick your lips.

"You've got yourself a rendezvous, doll."

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Bucky finds you not too far from the house, just down the block where the road curves. You're sitting on the edge of the sidewalk under the streetlight. 

Normally, Bucky would scold you for being so reckless, but it's late in the night, and you've got a look on your face that he just decides to let this one slide.

He walks up to you, taking a seat and shows you the treasure he brought.

You chortle, "I knew Tony was hiding the good stuff."

"We're probably going to hear about it from him tomorrow," Bucky smirks, but that doesn't stop him from cracking the bottle open. 

"That's a tomorrow us problem," you shrug, causing him to laugh.

You both take a shot of the premium vodka Bucky stole, licking your lips at how smooth it goes down. 

Even as good as it was, you still make a face and a displeased noise.

Bucky turns to you and laughs.

"I knew I should've brought the rum instead," he jokes, and you lean over and push him playfully with your shoulder.

"You fool," you smile, "there was rum, and you took vodka? Rookie mistake."

Bucky throws his head back with laughter. There's something that feels warm in your stomach as you watch Bucky laugh, and you wonder if it's the vodka.

"Here," you say, turning over slightly pick up two glasses you had brought out earlier.

"What's this?" Bucky asks as he looks at the cocktail. The orange color looks familiar to him, and there's a toothpick with cherries in it. 

You quirk your eyebrow at him as if he should know. "Your favorite cocktail? The Brooklyn cocktail. I think it should be called the Bucky Barnes cocktail, though."

Bucky takes the drink slowly, sipping it. He's not sure if it's because he's already had so many drinks tonight, or if it's the fact that you made it, but it tastes better than usual.

"I hope you appreciate this. I stole the cherries."

"From where?"

You were silent.

"From where?" Bucky jokingly begged.

The two of you burst into laughter as you share drinks under the night sky.

"How did you know this was my favorite cocktail? I drink everything, and I've never mentioned this drink," Bucky asked, savoring the flavor.

You look at him with furrow brows.

"What do you mean?" You lick your lips. "It's the only cocktail you'll drink twice."

It was so small, something no one else ever has noticed. Bucky likes to drink, and he really will drink everything. It's easy for people to assume he likes vodka the best. 

Fuck, he's so in love. 

But he downs the rest of the drink along with his feelings.

The night passes quietly with the two of you drinking from the vodka bottle, and Bucky is feeling the liquor a little more than usual.

"This is so dumb," you sigh.

"What is?" Bucky asks softly back.

"I dragged you and myself to this party, but now we're sitting out here on the curb."

Bucky shrugs. "This right here is the coolest party 'round town."

You laugh, "Not sure if two people make it a party."

"What does it make then?"

"A date, maybe?" You say.

It's meant innocently, but Bucky's chest flares with butterflies, and he's gripping the edge of the curb tightly.

Suddenly, you groan as you lean against his shoulder.

"Be honest, you think I'm tragic, don't you?" The warmth immediately seeps through Bucky's shirt against your temple. 

"Not at all, doll," Bucky licks his bottom lip.

You pinch his side lightly. "Doll this, doll that. Careful, Barnes, I might just fall for you."

And maybe it's the alcohol that has him relaxed. 

Maybe it's the way you look under the streetlight. 

Maybe it's the way you look like you don't believe you can be anyone's entire universe.

Whatever it is, it has Bucky leaning over your face. You look up, caught in his steel-blue eyes. Your breath hitches when you feel his breath ghost over your cheeks and on your lips. 

His other hand comes to cup your face, thumb dragging from the corner of your mouth across your cheekbone.

Your eyes flutter closed as you unknowingly move closer. 

"What are you doing?" You whisper.

You open your eyes when Bucky doesn't answer. He only swallows visibly. 

"How long?" You ask instead.

"Before Sam," Bucky's forehead touches yours as your noses brush.

Your jaw clenches because that was ages ago. 

You come to a sobering realization that Bucky has loved you longer than you have ever known. 

There's a nagging thought in both of your heads that this could be a mistake. 

But as quick as Bucky's lips brush against yours, he pulls back. 

You blink.

Bucky coughs, standing up.

"Sorry," Bucky smiles contritely. 

Because the thing is, even if you're not Sam's girl, you're not Bucky's either.

And he's not about to risk something just because his entire body feels like he's about to go through vertigo if he doesn't kiss you. 

You stare at Bucky as he gives you that goofy grin, scratching the back of his head. 

"Let's head back inside," Bucky starts walking, "I bet Tony is white girl wasted at this point."

You watch Bucky's back as you stand up.

The truth is, you don't understand. You don't know what the right decision is or if you'll regret it in the morning. 

The only thing you know is that things have changed regardless of what you choose to do.

There's this uncomfortable feeling in your gut as you bite your nail before running your hand through your hair frustratedly. 

You look to the side, huffing before you look back.

"Bucky!" 

You're already running when he turns around as you collide into his body, hand cupping his jaw with a bruising kiss. 

Bucky responds immediately, both his hands coming around to hold your face. You feel the ring on his thumb as it's pressed just right on the corner of your lips. 

He kisses you like he's known your lips forever. Even though the last thing you drank was vodka, there's still an underlying tone of rum, and Bucky thinks rum might be his new favorite. 

The smell of orange blossoms and dry leaves invades his nose as he pulls back, both breathless. 

He doesn't dare pull back any further, feeling your warm breath on his lips. 

He catches your eyes, the way they flutter to his as your chest heaves. Your fingers move to hold his fingers that are cupping your jaw and neck.

And Bucky falls all over. 

"I'm in love with you, doll," Bucky confesses, pulling you into another consuming kiss. 

Cars pass you, their headlights shining just momentarily on the two of you as you share something new from drinks. 

And whatever panic tomorrow brings, you'll at least have known kissing Bucky Barnes tastes like a promise.