#and i believe by the end she still associates with the jets anyway

[favroitecrime]

finally watched west side story. #that scene from where anita and graziella reach for each other… yeah. one of two scenes that shook me to the core

[itsawhumpsideblog]

Angie Has A Cold

CW: colds and associated symptoms, but nothing major. This is just good old-fashioned sickfic and fluff.

Advice from the Box Boy Liberation Movement:

Although it can be difficult to do, try to find time for yourself. Continue your hobbies if possible and take advantage of opportunities for self care. You still have needs and taking care of yourself is not only a smart choice, but also models good boundaries for rescuees.

Angie had only been away for a long weekend for her sister's wedding, but Tim found that he was looking forward to having her back. Of course, it wasn't that he couldn't handle the work of taking care of the rescuees and they were all perfectly happy to pitch in when they could, anyway. But Tim missed having someone else to talk to who saw the world the way he did, who he could interact with without having to put all his words through what he thought of as "the Pet filter".

When he heard Angie's car pull into the driveway, Tim found himself grinning ear to ear. He went to open the door for her- it was raining hard and she had a suitcase to manage. You needed to pack a lot of things to be a bridesmaid, it turned out.

Tim wasn't a moment too soon and opened the door to find Angie standing there, shifting her heavy suitcase to her left hand so that she could fumble for her key.

"Thanks!" she gasped as she ducked into the safety of the front hall. "Whew. It's really coming down! Would you believe I was dry until I got out of the car just now?"

"I might," Tim said.

"And how are the guys? And you? Did you guys do okay?" She set the suitcase down and wiped wet hair out of her face.

"Yeah, we were fine. We watched a lot of movies. The weather's making everyone feel a little... achy. Not quite themselves, I guess. We're just passing the ibuprofen around the room every few hours and that helps."

"Good." Angie sneezed into the crook of her arm and then straightened up and stretched. "I'll take this upstairs and change into something less... soaked. Be right back!"

She was downstairs in just a few minutes and settled onto the couch in her usual spot to watch the end of their movie before joining Tim in the kitchen to cook dinner.

"Anything in particular sound good to you?" Tim asked, standing in front of the open pantry with his arms crossed. "I didn't get to the store this weekend, so ingredients are a little scarce right now."

"It's fine," Angie assured him. "I'll go tomorrow." She peered at the shelves. "How about soup and sandwiches? We have enough for everyone and it sounds amazing." She shivered and added, "I just can't seem to get warm."

Tim peered at her. "Are you okay? You don't think you're getting sick?"

"Nah, I'm fine. It's just cold out."

Tim accepted the answer, but found himself studying her closely when, later in the evening, she sneezed again and began coughing. She swore that she had swallowed something wrong, but when she went to bed immediately after the rescuees were settled for the night, Tim had his doubts.

Sure enough, the next morning, Angie was nowhere to be seen. Tim helped Francis downstairs, saw the rescuees settled in their usual spots, and made breakfast for all five of them before he began to worry.

"No Angie this morning?" Nathan asked. "Think she's jet lagged?"

"She might be," Tim said doubtfully. "I'll go check on her after breakfast."

They ate and then Tim stood and said, in the most casual voice he could, to hide his worry, "Still no Angie- I guess I'll go knock on her door and make sure everything's okay." He tried to seem unconcerned and ignored the anxious look that Francis and Mikey exchanged.

Tim strolled out of the room, but as soon as he had rounded the corner, he picked up the pace. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, he thought. Then he silently admonished himself for lying. He did know why- it wasn’t that he was afraid something uniquely awful had happened, only that Angie was the one person in the house he could count on to be well and normal. She was always cheerful and energetic, even when she was tired and it would just be so strange if she were to be anything else.

Then, stopping in front of her door, Tim gave himself a mental shake. Angie was not required to perform, he reminded himself. She was allowed to have an off day, too, and he would do whatever she needed. If that was even what was happening.

Tim knocked on the door and Angie's gravelly voice answered. "Come in."

He opened the door a little tentatively to find her still in bed, wrapped up in a blanket and looking thoroughly miserable. A box of tissues sat on her nightstand and some of its contents was now wadded up in and around a wastebasket.

"Morning," Tim said, entering very slowly and picking his way around the tissues to sit lightly on the edge of her bed. "Just came to see how you're doing."

"Not great," Angie admitted. She took another tissue and blew her nose, then leaned back against the pillows with a tired groan. "You were right," she admitted. "I guess I was getting sick."

"Poor you," Tim said sympathetically. He stood, left the room, and returned a moment later with a thermometer. "May I?"

"Go ahead." Angie accepted the thermometer under her tongue and held her head while they waited for it to beep. When it did, she watched him expectantly.

"Yeah, you definitely have a fever. Not bad- not, like, Francis-bad, but it's there."

"I can tell. I'm hot and cold and everything aches." Tim patted her hand and she sniffed and smiled at him.

"Think you can keep some breakfast down if I bring it to you?"

"I can come downstairs," she said, but she didn't look like she meant it and Tim shook his head.

"I'll be right back," he said and it was a sign of exactly how she felt that Angie lay quietly back against her pillows and watched him go.

Downstairs, Tim put some bread in the toaster and checked in with the rescuees. They had looked up in an almost synchronized movement when he came down the stairs and then watched him, waiting for news.

"She's sick, all right," he confirmed. To the nervous look that flashed across Mikey's face, he added, "Nothing too serious. She just has a little feverish cold. We'll take good care of her and she'll be better soon."

"Poor Ma'am," Francis murmured.

"If there's anything we can do to help, we will," Nathan told Tim, and Mikey nodded, ignoring the casts on his hands that would make it hard for him to help anyone. Tim smiled.

"Thanks, guys. I'll pass on the good wishes and start her off with some breakfast."

Angie didn't appear to have moved since Tim left. This was worrying, but he pushed it aside. She was sick; she was allowed to act unlike herself if she needed to. Besides, he noted, she pushed herself up in the bed when he came in and gave him a thin smile. He stayed and kept her company while she drank some of the juice and nibbled at the toast.

"Sorry," she said when she had put the second piece of toast back on the plate half-eaten. "I don't think I can take any more right now."

"That's okay," he replied in his most soothing voice. "You rest and I'll come back up in a little while to see if you need anything and check on your fever."

"My fever will probably be right here waiting for you," Angie said dryly. "But I'll be okay. I promise."

"I'll hold you to it."

Angie slid down again in the bed, shivering, and smiled as Tim reached over and tucked the comforter around her.

Tim tried not to be exasperated later that morning when Francis asked, for what seemed like the tenth time, "Sir, ought we not to go and see to Ma'am? Francis would be more than willing to sit with her, if she is in need..." he trailed off, unsure.

"I'm pretty sure she's fine," Tim said, also for the tenth time. He looked at the clock and shrugged. "But you know, it has been two hours. I'll go up and just see if she's even awake. Will that make you all feel better?"

Francis wasn't able to answer such a direct question, but Mikey nodded and Nathan grinned sympathetically at Tim. He had memories of being sick in a similar way and was more sure that Angie really would recover without long-term adverse effects.

Tim tried not to sigh as he went upstairs. The questions were only annoying because he was asking himself the same thing, he had to admit. And if he took another perspective, it was really a positive thing that Francis was able to ask repeatedly for something he felt was important. It was progress.

Once again, Tim tapped very lightly at the door. He half hoped Angie wouldn't answer, which would mean she was sleeping.

"Come in." No such luck, and she sounded horribly congested.

As he had suspected, the pile of tissues was noticeably higher. She had also thrown her blankets aside and was clutching a sheet to her chest as she coughed into her elbow.

"At least I got sick after the wedding," Angie managed to say. She closed her eyes and pressed a hand over them. "Sorry. My head hurts."

"And your face is bright red," Tim noted. "Your fever must be up."

"Yeah, probably. It feels worse. I'm all dizzy." Then, illogically, she swung her feet over the side of the bed. "I should get some medicine, though."

"Already brought you some." Tim was anxious to keep her from exerting herself and he held out the pills and a small cup of water.

"You're the best." She took them and laid back with a sigh. "Sorry I'm not more help around the house today. Are the guys okay?"

"They're worried about you," Tim told her. "Francis is almost being annoying about it- not that I really mind, of course. But he got very insistent that I should come check on you."

"Good for him," Angie hummed with a small smile. Tim had known she would understand. Then she sighed. "Tell them I'm fine- more or less- and I'm going back to sleep. If I get bored later, I'll come downstairs."

"I'll leave you alone," Tim agreed. "Want me to come check on you at lunchtime? You should probably try to eat again then, if you can. There's always more toast, or I can make soup. Those are classics for a reason and we have a lot of soup in the backup pantry."

"Ugh," Angie groaned. She held her stomach and looked a little green. "Don't talk to me about food. But thanks."

"Sorry. I'll see you in a few hours." She murmured some inaudible assent and Tim saw himself out.

Tim's report from the sickroom kept the rescuees' anxiety at bay almost until the agreed-upon next visit at lunch. As the hour approached, though, Tim couldn't help noticing Mikey and Francis glancing over at him every few minutes, clearly waiting for him to leave the room.

When Tim stood up, they visibly relaxed and then tensed again as he walked into the kitchen instead of upstairs. Tim, who hadn't done it on purpose, felt guilty at this.

"I'm going to put some soup on," he told them, "and then I'll go look in on her. I know you're worried, but she really will be okay and we all have to eat lunch, after all."

There was no grumbling, of course, but Tim suspected that if they hadn't once been Pets, Francis and Mikey would have protested. Everyone would be fine, Tim reminded himself, and put the soup on to warm before finally heading up the stairs.

This time, he knocked and let himself in without waiting for an answer. Angie was sitting up again, dozing against her pillows, and opened her eyes when she heard him come in.

"Welcome back."

"Thanks, I think. How are you feeling now?"

She shrugged listlessly. "About the same, but bored. Is it lunchtime already?"

"It is. Do you think you could eat something?"

She grimaced but said, "Maybe a little. It doesn't sound great, but I should eat, even if I don't want to."

"That's the spirit."

"Can I come downstairs?" Angie asked, sounding like a child who was prepared to plead for what she wanted.

"If you feel up to it," Tim said. He didn't want to pressure her, but he hoped she would come downstairs. It would help Mikey and Francis relax if they could see her, he was sure.

"Okay, great. Give me one second." Tim turned his gaze slightly aside so that he wasn't staring awkwardly at her as she climbed out of bed and made her way across the room to retrieve a flannel robe that was hung over the back of a chair. She drew it tightly around her and shivered, but headed for the door.

"You need a hand?" Tim asked in the same fake-casual voice he felt like he had been using all day.

Angie’s feverish head felt faint and she was a little unsteady on her feet. She reached one hand out to brace herself on the doorframe and pressed the other hand to her brow.

"I think so," she replied reluctantly. "My poor head's all dizzy, still."

"Well, let's get you downstairs and settled on the couch, then." Tim gave her his arm to lean on and they made their way very slowly down the stairs.

When she entered the room, all three rescuees- even Nathan, who had not been so nervous- brightened up.

"Hi guys," Angie croaked and made sure to smile at them. Mikey beamed at her and Francis smiled warmly. They both looked happy to see her and more relaxed than they had been yet that day.

"Come sit down," Nathan said in a concerned voice, gesturing to the other end of the couch. "You look like you're gonna fall over."

"I'll be okay," Angie assured him, but she kept a hold on Tim's arm and let him help her across the room. She tucked her feet under her as she eased herself down onto the couch and leaned back with a light sigh.

"I'll get everyone lunch," Tim said, not that anyone was listening, and bustled off.

"Francis is very sorry that you're ill, Ma'am," Francis said in a shy voice. "He hopes you are not suffering very much."

"Nah, it's not that bad." She made the effort to smile. "Just... not quite myself today, that's all. It happens."

Tim returned with bowls of soup for Nathan and Francis and then set up a tray in front of Angie. She found that she didn't have much stomach for food and stopped after a few spoonfuls until she felt something brush her leg.

When she looked down, it was Mikey, touching her knee lightly to get her attention. She smiled wanly at him but he looked concerned. He reached up with his heavily bandaged right hand and tapped his mouth, telling her that she should eat.

Angie almost explained that she didn't want to, but then she took another look at Mikey's wide, earnest eyes and he tapped his mouth more insistently, then gestured clumsily at her bowl.

"Okay, I'll have some more," she agreed. "You're right. It'll be good for me." For his sake, she finished most of the bowl, although the meal was heavy in her belly and made her a little sick. Mikey and Francis- and Tim, she noticed- looked satisfied, which mostly made it worth it.

After lunch, Angie sat shivering on the couch while Tim cleared away the dishes. When he returned, he was carrying the thermometer.

"Time for another temperature check," he announced cheerfully, and stuck it under her tongue.

Angie's fever had apparently become a spectator sport, and she wasn't too sick to feel awkward with all four of them watching her as the number on the thermometer climbed.

"101.7," Tim announced. "And time for the patient to take her medicine."

"Francis would like to help," Francis said. He looked nervously from Angie to Tim and clasped his hands, which were shaking slightly. It made him nervous to speak up like that, but he was desperate to do something for poor Ma'am, who had so often comforted him when he was ill.

"Sure," Tim said, putting on his casual voice again so that Francis would know he was welcome to express himself freely. "I bet Angie would appreciate that. Right?"

"Sure," she agreed. "Thank you, Francis."

Tim got the bottle of medicine and helped Francis cross the room to sit in a chair next to Angie.

"Sir, could you please bring a cool washcloth?" Francis asked. "For Ma'am," he hastened to add.

Angie almost couldn't believe the sudden change in Francis, who had actually managed to communicate an intention and was now very nearly taking charge of something. He had even made a direct request of Tim. She realized why and her heart was so full that she almost cried. The slight red tint around Tim's eyes when he returned from the kitchen suggested that he had cried. Francis, who couldn't even refer to himself in first person, had asserted himself for Angie's sake.

She knew she would be thinking about the implications of that for a long time, but for now she tried to remain in the present.

Francis poured Angie's medicine into a spoon and held it out. At first, she started to raise her hand to take it, and then realized he was holding it towards her mouth. She tried not to smile as she let him administer it to her, just the way he fed Mikey when it was his turn to do so.

When the spoon was empty, Francis lay it neatly down on a napkin and took up the damp washcloth, folding it into a long rectangle. He leaned towards Angie and pressed it to her brow.

"This is an excellent thing to do when you are feverish," he said, looking very gentle and solemn. She wondered if he knew a cold washcloth was an ordinary fever treatment, or if he thought it was something special that only Tim knew about. "Francis found it very beneficial when he had a fever." He held the cloth in place for her, as if she was too feeble to do it herself, and Angie remembered how many hours Tim had sat with Francis just like this.

"Thanks, Francis," Angie said. "It does feel good."

"Francis is very sorry to see Ma'am so poorly," he replied in that same caring tone. "He hopes you will be much better soon."

Angie smiled around the room. "With all of you to take care of me, I know I will."

Next

Master List

Notes: I've got so many ideas for the Safehouse characters, but some of them fall outside of any specific spot on the timeline. Also, to be honest, I don't want to have to worry about the passage of time for every story I do in that series. So, while I'm definitely going to continue doing longer plot arcs, those plot arcs won't always have to follow one after the other. I'm also going to start letting myself just do standalone stories or short arcs like this one. Enjoy!

Tag list: @pigeonwhumps, @cepheusgalaxy, @i-eat-worlds, @honeycollectswhump @taterswhump,

@starfields08000 @whumpsday, @fruitypinapple00, @currentlyinthesprial

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭-𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 || helmut zemo, bucky barnes and sam wilson x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : your sugar daddy boyfriend is finally out of prison and he brought a few friends to show you off to.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : just over 4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (foursome/group sex, oral m receiving, spitroast; sliiiight dubcon???), established zemo x reader, sugar daddy relationship, ‘sir’ kink, ‘daddy’ kink, pussy spanking, one regular spank, orgasm control, overstimulation, creampie, a bit of cockwarming, exhibitionism, possessiveness (kinda? but also not at all lmao it’s hard to explain), a bit of degradation but plenty of praise as well, subtle cuckolding but without the usual power dynamics there, shitty reconstructed “sokovian” (I wrote it in the latin alphabet but the cyrillic and translations are at the end), unexpected and unnecessary fluff, very subtle angst (basically all in a flashback anyways)

                  You were needlessly anxious as you waited for him to arrive.  It had been your own idea to wait in the jet, and yet you spent every other second glancing out the tiny window, desperate for a glance of the man you missed so dearly.

If someone had told you all those years ago, when this arrangement first began, how easily he would have you wrapped around his finger… you couldn’t have believed them.  It’s just about the money, you would’ve told them, but you would’ve been impossibly wrong.

For a lot of women in this sort of situation, it really was just about the money; likewise, for a lot of men in his situation, it was just about the sex.  But the two of you had something entirely unique, nearly indescribable in fact, that very few could ever understand.  In the beginning it became clear to you that he was more in need of a companion than a lover or girlfriend, specifically.  He was still grieving his wife, still devoted to her completely, but lonely right to his core… angry, even, at the prospect of a life without his family.  You were a shoulder to cry on, first and foremost.

You thought maybe he enjoyed spending money on you because it was his way to protect you, in a way he felt he had failed to protect his family before.

And it was you that fell for him first, for his passion and his kindness before his riches or looks.  Just when you feared that he’d only ever see you as a status symbol or dress-up doll, he returned your affections in spite of his guilt at first and the two of you were inseparable ever since.

Except, of course, when you were separated, and he was imprisoned, and you were left on your own again.  Not that spending his money wasn’t fun or anything, but his loneliness was more sympathetic with each night you spent in that massive bed by yourself, wanting just to feel the warmth of him beside you again.

So, it should be understandable why you were so on edge in anticipation of his arrival.  Your painted fingernails toyed with the hem of the dress you remembered he liked on you most— the silk one that barely covered your legs and was only held up by absurdly thin straps crossing at your back.

The night he bought it for you was clear in your mind like it was only yesterday; his voice in your ear telling you how he couldn’t resist taking such a thoughtful, intelligent woman like yourself and dressing you up like a mindless drolja… or ‘slut’ as it might be said in English.  Just remembering the way he said things like that sent a shiver down your spine as strong as really hearing it, your thighs clenching together on top of the plush leather seat.

Just as you thought you might go crazy waiting for him, you saw the car pull up— your Helmut at the wheel and his two associates in tow— and your heart soared.

Longer than all the years apart combined was the minute you spent waiting to descend the jet’s staircase, hoping to meet him on the taxiway at the exact right moment.  You made sure the jewelry around your wrists and neck was laying just right before finally making your appearance.

The way he looked up at you as you started to walk down towards him… it wasn’t so different from the way he’d looked at you through the glass for the past few years, really, but it felt different.  He certainly looked different to you, without the prisoner’s uniform and looking rather imposing with that massive coat instead.

You were careful to still walk slowly, since you were wearing stilettos and all, even when you wanted more than anything to run to him and jump into his arms.  Instead, you came face to face with him, loving that confident smirk which never seemed to leave his expression, and slipped your arms around his fur-adorned neck.

“Dobrodošla nazad, ljubavi,” you hummed, pressing your lips to his and almost letting out a squeal of surprise when he immediately slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you aggressively as his gloved hands gripped you at the waist.

He was rarely so bold, but then again he had been alone in prison for so long with only your words to try to satisfy him.  As much as you cherished being in his arms again, you also got the impression that this wasn’t just about making up for lost time— if that were true, he would’ve skipped the kiss entirely and taken you in the back of his car the moment he saw you.  No, this was a show of dominance, and not only for your benefit; that was clear when one of the men with him cleared his throat loudly and Helmut still didn’t stop.  

But that was very much like him: he was never finished with you until he was satisfied, and not a moment sooner.  His power over you was so effortless because you didn’t mind at all being his plaything… so much so that it was you leaning in for more when he pulled back, making him laugh softly.

“Did you miss me, lutka?” he purred, and you nodded as you bit your lip slightly.

“Always, Helmut,” you nodded, finally taking a moment to look away from him and at the visibly uncomfortable men at his side.  “I heard you freed him,” you said to the man you knew to be James Barnes, “thank you.”

“I’m still not over that,” the other— Sam, as you’d heard— added with a scoff.

“Come on, darling, let’s board the jet and we can talk there,” Helmut suggested, and you nodded as you turned to let them follow.

Of course, you couldn’t be totally sure, but you were pretty confident you could feel three pairs of eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs.  Honestly, with how short the dress was, there was a risk of your thong being exposed as well, exactly the sort of almost-subtle teasing your Baron loved the most.

Once inside, Helmut showed James and Sam to their seats, and took his own as he instantly pulled you into his lap.  You caught the other two men glancing to the empty fourth seat, knowing there was plenty of room for you two to stay apart, but could they really blame you after how long you’d been alone?

Throughout the takeoff, one of his strong hands rested comfortably on your crossed legs as the other held his glass of champagne, and Sam’s gaze was attached to the way his thumb gently stroked your thigh while James seemed to be doing his best to look literally anywhere else.

“I noticed you haven’t introduced us to your… friend…” Sam trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, yes,” Helmut chuckled as if he actually forgot, “this is the woman who has been managing my estate in my unfortunate absence.”

“You’re trying to tell us this is your accountant?” James grumbled.

“She’s also my lover,” Helmut relented.

“Obviously,” Sam replied, unamused.

“She’s beautiful, no?” Helmut prompted as he ran his fingertips higher up your thigh, only glancing at the other men as he focused mainly on nuzzling against your neck. 

“Yeah, the finest money can buy,” Sam quipped, earning a cold glare from you and your man.  

“Are you with me for my money, draga?” Helmut asked you quietly as he planted a gentle kiss to the spot right where your neck met your shoulder.  You smiled and shook your head, staring right at Sam’s nervous expression.

“No, sir,” you answered aloud, and the title clearly made both of the other men uncomfortable… if, perhaps, in different ways.

“Uncross your legs,” he demanded, though his tone was still soft, and you obeyed right away as he started to lightly move his touch between your thighs.

James began adjusting in his seat and never really stopped, tugging at his jeans in an obvious attempt to conceal the growing bulge between his legs, but you only laughed at his clear embarrassment.

“See how respectful she is?” he cooed his praise, addressing the other men but keeping his eyes on you.  “I know exactly the words to make her obey to my every whim… James, you and her share that quality.”

The man sneered as you suppressed a giggle, squirming in Helmut’s lap impatiently.

“She’s loyal, too, unendingly dedicated,” he continued.  “You know she visited me weekly in Munich, at the very least?  Always by my side… like any good pet.”

A whimper escaped your throat at that term, your gut burning with need as he balanced praise and degradation effortlessly.  You didn’t find it truly demeaning only because you loved being his plaything so much, and because you knew mutual respect was at the core of your relationship with him.  But, still, it was nice to feel small when he was there to keep you safe.

James watched with a small snarl and Helmut slipped his hand into your panties, and Sam licked his lips but shifted his stare to your face instead, just as your eyes started to roll back and your head fell weakly on Helmut’s shoulder.

“And such a precious little pussy as well,” he added darkly, giving you a spank between your legs to make you choke on a squeal.  “Sweet, delicate… much like a Turkish delight, but even more addictive.”

“Please, sir,” you whispered under your breath.

“You want more, don’t you?  Tako očajno…” he chuckled.  You nodded, already starting to soak through the lace and rock your hips.  “You want to be fucked, yes?”

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Be polite and take care of our guests first, draga,” he encouraged, kissing your neck one more time before releasing you from his embrace.

Although you were most interested in being with the man you loved, you were happy to obey whatever he wished— and, frankly, sinking to your knees on the jet’s carpeted floor to crawl towards James wasn’t exactly lacking in its own appeal.

James’ eyes narrowed as Sam’s widened, and you sat up between the spread, denim-clad thighs as you blinked up at him and licked your lips.

He tensed up slightly as your hands delicately slid up his legs, his Adam's apple bobbing with a dry swallow when you grabbed his belt buckle and began to open it.

“You… you don’t have to…” he mumbled, apparently too distracted to finish his sentence.

“Yes I do,” you denied.  “Because he told me to.”

Sam winced and looked away as you unzipped James’ fly and pulled his jeans and boxers down to expose his cock, already hard and leaking a bit from the tip.  You smiled proudly, but chose not to tease him for his eagerness and instead just get right to work; you gripped him at the base and gave a few kitten licks over his shaft, savoring the taste of his precum and looking up at his expression that was equal parts shocked and sultry.

You only spent a moment suckling on the head before skipping right ahead and deepthroating him all the way to base.

“Oh, fuck,” James choked, reaching up grab the seat behind his head as his back arched, making you want to smile though you thankfully kept it down.

“Well-trained, isn’t she?” Helmut interjected proudly.

“Y-yeah,” he answered, his other hand grabbing your shoulder tightly as you began to bob your head.

Occasionally, in your peripheral, you caught Sam looking, and it made you wiggle your hips with the desire to rub your throbbing clit against the floor.  

You got a chance to breathe whenever you pulled back to suck the head and stroke the rest with your hand, and in a few minutes you had already found all the little spots that made him moan the loudest, or made his legs quiver a bit by your sides.

“Stop,” Helmut instructed, and you were already starting to pull off when James hissed and grabbed your head to hold you down.

“N-no, please,” he blurted out.

“She’ll come back to you but Sam is looking rather lonely in the corner over there,” Helmut explained, and James hesitated but let you go.  You wiped your lips and started to move towards Sam, but he shook his head.

“I don’t roll like that, man,” Sam explained, “I don’t want her doing it just because you said so.”

“Darling, won’t you tell us how badly you want to service your new friends?” Helmut challenged, and you swallowed nervously because you were a bit embarrassed to say too much and potentially anger him.  But the sparkle in his eyes didn’t seem like he was leading you into a trap… even if the other two men were confident that was what it meant.  “You find them attractive, don’t you?”

“Um, yes, sir,” you answered hesitantly, “I… saw them, and I wanted to know what their cocks looked like.  And tasted like.”

Helmut smiled and leaned forward, giving you a spank of approval through your dress (which was riding up to show most of your butt anyways).

You looked at Sam expectantly.  “May I please suck your cock, Mr. Wilson?”

His eyes darkened and you knew you were on the right track.  “What happened to ‘sir’?” he asked coyly.

“I only call Helmut ‘sir,’” you explained, “but I could call you something else.”

His finger curled to encourage you to come closer and you crawled up to sit between his legs.

“Call me ‘daddy,’” he finally instructed, opening his belt and pants for you.

“Yes, daddy,” you nodded, keeping your mouth slack for him to push his cock into.  You hummed as the head slid over your tongue, looking up at him as he bit his lip and thrust back into your throat.

“Shit, that’s good,” he whispered, guiding your head at the speed he wanted.  “Who taught you how to suck cock so good, baby?”

Helmut raised his hand and James snorted.

Sam was a bit longer but he was still no challenge to swallow all the way down, and you heard him breathing through his teeth but let your eyes fall shut to focus on your work.

“Is this… how you treat all your guests?” Sam asked tensely between heavy breaths.

“Only those who are at the right place at the right time,” Helmut answered cryptically, but you happened to know this sort of occasion was incredibly rare.  Although it might seem counterintuitive to some, this was his way to re-stake his claim over you, and after so much time apart apparently he felt he had a lot to prove.  “Keep going, but don’t let him come,” another instruction echoed from behind you.  

You pulled back to stroke Sam’s length while you croaked: “yes, sir.”

Helmut had you go back and forth for a while, keeping both men on edge and occasionally allowing you to stroke one while you sucked the other, your own need growing so quickly as you dreamed to have something inside you, anything really.

Obviously, he knew exactly how much having a cock down your throat made you wet and desperate.  And he knew that such a taboo act of, in a certain sense, breaking fidelity with a man as he not only watched but commanded you to do it would get you right on the edge in no time.

He had gotten in your head so quickly after meeting you, memorized everything that made you tick, and not once had he forgotten.  

“I-I’m close,” James warned as you sucked his head, making you slide the tip of your tongue over his slit before you took a break to suck his swollen balls into your mouth.  “Fuck, can I come?”

“Not yet,” Helmut instructed sternly.

You felt him tug you back and into his lap suddenly, and he quickly yanked your dress down to expose your breasts to the men in front of you.

“Her tits are hard, no?” Helmut prompted them, and you watched them both nod as a warm hand reached around from behind you to tweak your hardened nipples.  “Yes, she really loves to get on her knees and choke on cock.  I’d let her do the same to me but I have greater plans for her…”

As if it weren’t obvious what those plans were, he pulled your skirt up to your waist as well, spreading your legs and pulling your flimsy panties aside.  

“Is she wet?” he asked the men and they nodded again.

“Drenched,” Sam chimed in.

Helmut gave another spank to your clit as you shuddered, then rubbing slowly as if to soothe the sting.  “I’ll teach you what happens when you get wet for another man, little girl,” Helmut growled against your ear, “not to mention two.  And they’re Americans, do you have no shame?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whispered.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he corrected.  “I love seeing you act like a whore all for me.”

You hadn’t even realized he’d taken his cock out of his trousers until you felt the thick tip of him prodding at your entrance.  It was already a lot just by itself, but then you had these strangers staring at you and for some reason it only turned you on more.

That ‘some’ reason of course being that you loved your Baron taking ownership over you for anyone to see.  Clearly, prison had given him much more creative ideas than just fucking on a balcony or against the glass of a window.  

“Are you ready for me?” he asked in a hushed voice against your skin which seemed to be burning hot all of a sudden.  

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

It took a lot not to cry out as he pulled you down and filled you in one deep stroke, your nails digging into the leather of the chair’s armrests at either side.  But more than the sting of pain it felt so perfect, so fundamentally right, and just after your gasp of shock was a sigh of relief.

He sighed along with you and let his forehead fall between your shoulder blades, clearly a bit overwhelmed at being inside you again for the first time in so long.  “Draga...” he breathed, “not that I ever doubted… but you must have been faithful to me; you’re so tight, I know no one has touched you since I left.”

“Only you, sir, nobody but you,” you agreed breathlessly, eyes falling shut.  

He kissed your back as he started to move your body on top of his, the hands at your waist tightening and tugging on the remaining fabric of your dress.  “Tako dobro,” he hissed, “you feel so good, darling, you can’t imagine how long I spent dreaming of being inside you again.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, and it would be impossible to say for sure what caused it— a little bit of everything, really.  

Opening your eyes and noticing the way they were staring at you, you leaned forward and took each of the other men’s hard cocks in your hands, stroking in time with the way you bounced your hips on top of Helmut’s.

The both of them had been on the edge for a bit too long, Sam already biting his lip as James thrust himself up into your palm.

“Fuck, please,” James moaned, “I need to come in your mouth.”

“Come closer then,” you breathed, watching him stand up and bring his cock right to your lips which you eagerly gagged on, any pretense long gone as you sloppily sucked and stroked while Helmut thrust up to slam into you.

“Ohh, fuck, that’s it— gonna come,” he grunted as he reached up to press his hand against the ceiling of the jet, and it all must have hit him rather unexpectedly since the moment his musky taste began to coat your tongue, you heard a clanging sound and realized he had pushed up so hard that he bent the steel interior, his other hand tightening into a fist in your hair.

You moaned happily as you swallowed every drop, still sucking even as James’ moans became loud and higher in pitch.

“Fuck, don’t stop, oh god,” he whined, cock throbbing even after he stopped filling your throat with come.  You reached between his legs and squeezed his balls a bit and you could tell his knees nearly buckled, causing him to finally pull back and tilt your chin up to stare down at you.  “You’re somethin’ else,” he panted, taking a moment to catch his breath before falling back and slumping into his chair.

You looked over at Sam and saw his hand was still lazily guiding yours to stroke over his cock although come already painted his abs and dripped down from his swollen head over your fingers.  “Can I clean up your mess, please, daddy?” you asked, voice a bit hoarse though you couldn’t be sure if that was from the deepthroating or just how hard Helmut was fucking you now.

Pulling your hand back, Sam’s eyes followed as you lapped the thick, hot come from your hand, moaning openly at the taste.  You sucked your fingers down into your throat, not leaving a drop behind.

He leaned back in his chair and began to catch his breath, both of them now staring at you with that exhausted, glazed-over expression.  They looked satisfied, and you considered it your reward for a job well done.

"A belly full of come and a pussy full of my cock, you must be feeling ecstatic," Helmut presumed.

"Yes, sir," you agreed quickly.

All at once he began to fuck you faster, harder, deeper which you hadn't even realized was an option.  He growled a string of the filthiest curses in your ear, in Sokovian so the other men wouldn’t understand, with one hand wrapped around your neck as the other pinched your clit almost too roughly.  Even in your native language you could barely understand it: how could you when he was so deep inside you?

“Will you come, draga?” he finally asked, voice rough with his own desperation.

“Not until you let me, sir,” you moaned, and he chuckled a bit.

“Good girl.”

But wow, the way he rubbed your clit was impossible to ignore, like he was trying to make your promise impossible to keep.  You tightened your jaw, moaning through your teeth now as you fought to keep your orgasm at bay.  

“Please sir, I need to come, please— so close, I’m so close,” you mewled.

“I won’t be much longer, either,” he warned.  "Too long without you has taken its toll, I need to finish."

“Inside me, sir, please,” you begged, “come inside me.”

You felt him nod against the back of your neck.  “Come for me,” he instructed simply, and as obedient as ever, you felt your walls pulsing as pleasure overtook you.  Not even meaning to, you threw your head back, and he had to hold you tightly to keep you from shaking too violently as the waves of sensation washed over you.

The heat of him spilling inside you warmed you from the inside out, making you smile happily through the fog of your high and intentionally tighten your walls around him.  He hissed and throbbed within you, his fingers digging into your hips now as he held you down against him.

He gave a few more lazy thrusts until finally slowing to a stop, both of you catching your breath eventually.

"My... accountant will be keeping my cock warm for the remainder of the flight," Helmut informed the other men, "I hope you don't mind?

"No, no, go ahead," James approved as his head fell back against his chair.

It was still quite a ways to your final destination so it wasn't much of a surprise that you ended up falling asleep in the Baron's arms, something you used to do every night that had been only a dream for years.  Perhaps this afternoon wasn't the reunion you expected, but it was somehow even more perfect than you could've ever wished for.

///

dobrodošla nazad, ljubavi = добродошла назад, љубави = “welcome home, love”

lutka = лутка = “doll”

draga = драга = “dear/beloved”

tako očajno = тако очајно = "so desperate"

tako dobro = тако добро = "so good"

[specialbrewbutterbeer]

hangman x f!reader😩

Heirlooms (Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader)

Word Count: 5355

TW: Slightly NSFW content but no gory details 😂, mentions death of a parent and single parentage, alcohol mentioned

AN: So- I combined this with an idea I had that I couldn't help but write, but I don't want to put in the title yet because it ruins the suspense and gives it all away (but equally you might guess it really quick, I have no idea!) I'm still working on Recall pt2 also, and the other requests (still open btw) but I'm VERY open to suggestions for it going forward so please do give them if you have them.

Feedback and suggestions in general are needed and very welcome! (Plus it's the feedback and knowing what you love about my writing that keeps me going and means I can write more of what you really enjoy!)

REQUESTS (OPEN)

MASTERLIST

Growing up a young girl on the coast of California was an interesting life, even if you didn't have much to your name there was always the beach, the sun and sea to keep you glad that you lived there instead of anywhere else.

In the summer the whole place felt like it was bathed in constant dusk light, the air was hot and grained with dust; and when the wind blew it was salty and it could all sting your eyes and make it hard to see how pretty it all was. The sea was a sort of hot sweaty blue, glittering and dancing.

In the town there were five major things- as it was only fairly small; The first was the store, which was not branded, and had an aisle for everything from cereal to nuts and washers, the second was the local highschool, which was relatively small and the auditorium of which doubled as the town councilors meeting hall, the third: the motel, which was the only reason any tourists ever bothered turning off of the road to stop there, the fourth: the single bar that sat on the beach and lastly, the fifth: the road that ran along the seafront- littered with signs directing to the airbase.

There were very few residents that didn't have associations with the base, most of them worked there or were the spouses or children of pilots and those who otherwise did. People came and went often, it was a military town really. There were just as few permanent residents.

(Y/n) was one of those few. She always had been. She grew up there, she grew up around those pilots, their kids were her friends, for as long as they were around. When she was older, she befriended the young wives of pilots, and eventually, like everyone else, ended up working at the base.

Growing up there, watching fighter jets scream over her head at recess and hearing all the stories from her friend's parents about the jets they flew or looked after- she was fascinated by them. She never believed she could be a pilot though, so she just never tried- not for the military anyway. She did have a private pilots license however, and dreamed of one day being able to buy something to fly as a hobby.

(She did also once steal a plane, just a small Cessna, as a teenager, but managed to play dumb and sweet and avoid charges because the owner dropped the charges when she apologized and said 'I just love them so much and girls never get the same opportunities as boys to do stuff like that 🥺')

Her job was just basic admin, it was boring and pretty dull most of the time, but she liked it enough. It was nothing particularly important, just making sure deliveries came and went as planned- this did mean that occasionally she had to supervise and confirm the delivery of parts and spares for the planes, which she enjoyed, but that didn't always go through her.

She had lived in the same apartment, in the same town all her life. She had lived there with her mother, and was starting to move out when her mother died when she was 20. It was a bit of an awful shock- she had to admit that, an unexpected stroke in the night and she was gone.

And that was it, from there on out she was on her own.

She didn't know her father, she never had really wanted to- and only realised that of course she must have one, when she was about 6, and realised she and her mother had different surnames.

When she asked why, she was told she had her father's surname, and that was the end of the conversation. She had never felt any need to ask for more information, she didn't need a dad as far as she was concerned.

That was until her mom died, then she wondered, because suddenly she couldn't just ask.

She knew her parents had never really been together. Her mother had grown up there just as she did, met her father when she was young, had a bit of an on going fling with him and had (y/n). That's about all she knew though- her mother had told her that her father wasn't from California, and that he didn't live there for long- so she could only assume he was involved in the military somehow.

But still, she wasn't bothered. Why push it now?

She never thought about who he was, she never felt incomplete without knowing who he was.

And that was her life. Simple, content, pretty typical. She worked, saw friends and dated when she could be bothered to.

Tonight she was going out.

She wore some comfy jeans and boots, an old t-shirt with a Rolling Stones logo on and a jacket which she had found at the back of her Mom's wardrobe. It was pretty dull clothing, nothing flashy or fashionable, just comfy.

She walked along the shore road to the bar, it only took about twenty minutes, and pushed open the door. Inside smelled a little sweaty, a little of vanilla perfume and a little bit of wood polish, it was homey. The lights were all a warm yellow and the orangey light of the sunset was coming off of the horizon as the sun sank slowly and steadily below it- heat haze wavering on the surface of the water as the temperature sank slower and kept everyone in a glaze of summer sweat.

She had already slipped the jacket off, she'd need it for walking home but for now it was just too hot, and kept it on her arm. She smiled and walked up to the bar, it wasn't busy yet, so quickly she was greeted by the familiar face of the owner.

"Hi hun-" The older woman, with her kind smile and calming, humming voice, spoke.

"Hiya-" She returned the cheery expression and ordered her drink, which was quickly put in her hand- cool and welcoming.

This was nice- sat at the bar, a warm summer's evening, it was quiet, and relaxing. (Y/n) let her thoughts drift as she stared at the stains and knots in the wood bar.

She felt pretty lucky to be living as content of a life as she was, it'd had ups and downs but she was pretty happy.

"You got a pretty smile- What you thinking about? Your boyfriend?" She heard a voice beside her and snapped out of it. She looked up and saw a muscular man, maybe a couple years older than her, stood beside her at the bar with a sly smile.

Immediately she recognized him as a pilot.

"Huh?" She was initially startled. "No-" She let herself fall into the trap. He was good looking, she couldn't help herself. "What makes you think I've got a boyfriend?" She raised an eyebrow.

"What? A goodlooking thing like you? Not getting snatched up? That's a damn shame." He leant on the bar as she turned and batted her eyelashed at him.

"You think so?" She smiled sweetly.

"Well- it'd be a damn shame for your boyfriend, considering I'm taking you home tonight." He smirked and spoke with such confidence she nearly believed him. She had always taken her mother's situation as a cautionary tale, having a kid at 19 with a dude who didn't stick around- but toying with these guys was so easy.

"That's a bold statement-" She switched off her sweet side and decided to play around a bit more.

"Bold is a strange way to say true-" He shot right back at her with a wink. She thought for a moment, but before she could retort- he spoke again. "Can I buy you a drink at least?" He raised an eyebrow and questioned.

She sighed and gave an exaggerated show of thinking about her answer. She looked down at her bottle, there was less in it that she had thought there was- so she nodded.

"Alright- fine." She rolled her eyes as if she were giving in.

Soon she had another drink in front of her and had easily drank the last drabs of what had been in the first.

"So- you're a pilot?" She questioned, once again defaulting to her sweetness and peaches act.

"Mhmm" He nodded as he took a drink.

"Are you a good one?" She asked, leaning her cheek in her palm and looking up at him.

"One of the best-" He spoke with a puffed out chest and smug smirk. She couldn't help but have to stop herself giggling. He was good looking but equally over confident. Didn't mean she didn't still fancy her chances.

Her pushed her hair out of her face.

"Ohh- Don't I feel special." She tilted her head a little so that the few strands of hair she'd moved away fell right back over her face.

"Oh I'd say- You're sure something special to look at-" He spoke and looked her up and down.

"It's not just me, Sir-" She smirked, the cocky ones always liked that.

She was right, there was a visible change in the man, almost like a tiny twitch in his smile or a flicker in his eyes.

"You know, I'd say we saw pretty much eye to eye in that department." She laughed a little.

"Hey- Hangman!" Someone called across from the pool table and the guy turned sharply, his smirk turning quickly into a much more stern expression.

"I'll be over later-" He called back.

"We're about to start a new game- We're each putting ten bucks down-" The person, clearly another pilot, called again.

"Hey- Hangman?" She spoke, and took a swig from her drink. He turned when he heard it, his expression softer for her than for his friends.

"Yeah?" He asked, his tone a little gruff, unhappy that his flirting had been interrupted.

"How bout we cut this short? So we can have our fun and you can go win a few bucks? Then maybe you can buy me one last drink?" She leant forward and placed a hand softly on his chest, running her fingers under the lapel of his shirt collar.

Immediately, as he looked down at her, with that pretty little smirk on her face, he knew what she meant. He liked the chase, but he liked a forward woman even more.

"Give me ten, guys-" He spoke over his shoulder, before watching her take a swig from her bottle- a drop spilling from her lips and dribbling messily down her chin.

She laughed. It was so easy.

She looked to the bartender who was faced away from them and pulled her new toy away and toward the bathroom- and he dutifully followed.

It was quick, a little frenzied, a little rough but very good. They both enjoyed themselves, despite the threat of someone walking in and the self imposed time limit.

When they were done, (y/n) stood in front of the mirror- fixing her hair and lipstick.

He was one of the better ones- clean, tidy, not super courteous but he knew what he was doing and none of it was wrong. She knew there would be some bruises on her shoulder blades the next morning, but being pushed up against a tiled wall would do that to ya.

"Hey-" She heard and looked in the mirror to see the pilot she knew only as Hangman - though she had read the name on his shirt- smoothing his short down and with a satisfied look on his face.

"You gonna be here all night?" He asked.

"Not all night- but I'll be around." She went back to combing her dark hair back into place with her fingers.

"Right- I'll buy you that drink when I win this game then, alright sweets?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever you say- Sir." She smiled and made eye contact with him through the mirror.

A smirk crept onto his face. He liked the measure of her- if he could help himself he wouldn't be back for more, but he liked her too much not to go at least one more round, sometime.

He walked out of the bathroom, a pride in his step as he did, and (y/n) once again returned to the mirror.

She used to do this a lot more often, it was less awkward than a one night stand, and with the right man it was much better too- more fun. She wasn't still 22, she had slowed down a little but it was much more her style and pace to do this than have a long term partner- she'd tried that and it never worked out very well.

After a couple minutes she also emerged from the bathroom- the place had a few more people in it now than it had, but not so many that her jacket being slung over the back of her bar stood hadn't prevented someone from sitting there.

She sat, and as she did, the noticed the lady behind the bar reach for the bell- and ring it. She followed the womans gaze to an older man, though who had clearly aged quite well, with dark hair and dark jacket. Something about him seemed familiar- but she shook it off. She'd probably seen him around work one time or something.

"Thanks for that, Pops!" She grinned and laughed- knowing that tonight really was gonna be a cheap one.

The dude gave a reluctant smile and put his hand up with an air of defeat. She shook her head and laughed again.

Suddenly she had another drink in front of her, courteousy of Hangman, who was once again leant on the bar beside her.

"I did win- but this one's on that idiot." He grinned as he placed it down.

"Well- thank you Sir." She gave him her bedroom eyes and batted her eyelashes at him once again. "I've gotta be heading out after this one though- I've got work in the morning." She spoke a little more seriously.

"Alright- I'll see you around then, sweets?" He asked, knowing the boundaries and that it wasn't an invitation. He was arrogant, not stupid. She nodded and hummed a yes sweetly.

"I never caught your name, sweets?" He asked before turning away.

"Oh- it's (Y/n)." She smiled and drank.

"Alright." He smirked. "I'll see you around then, (y/n)." Hangman stated, before returning to his gaggle of pilots.

She did as she had said and headed home after that drink. It had been a pretty good night, she'd got her rocks off and got more than one free drink- that was a good turn out in her books.

She laughed to herself as she pulled her jacket on over her shoulders and stepped out into the cool night air.

It was about noon the next day, as she stood on the tarmac directing a truck delivering a large load of parts into one of the hangars, that she noticed Hangman again.

She looked up from her clipboard, red pen between her teeth and highvis on- and spotted him as she looked over her shoulder to check she wasn't about to direct the truck into the path of any other vehicle. She was far enough away from the taxi ways and actual aircraft that it caused no worry. It was a quickly finished task, which meant she soon had turned on the threshold of the hangar to see him.

(Y/n) saw him in his flight suit, sweaty and disgruntled. She lifted her sunglasses and pushed them up to rest on top of her dark hair and gave a spritely grin. He was a way aways, but he glanced and made eye contact with her, stopping for a moment, a slightly surprised smile gracing his lips.

She winked before sliding her glasses back down and turning on her heels, heading back to her desk in the office.

"Now's not the time for flirting- Lieutenant." She heard behind her, and couldn't help but glance back, a cheeky smirk on her face. She immediately recognised the speaker as the older man she had seen in the bar, he must have been the instructor. She couldn't help but laugh a little.

She kept a wicked smile on her face as she sorted through paperwork at her desk, and glanced through the slats of the blinds every so often, watching planes take off and land.

The day went quickly, and soon she found herself stood in the parking lot, leant on the hood of her car and waiting, her sunglasses over her eyes and her jacket over her arm.

She could have gone home about a half hour before but she knew that Hangman hadn't, his car was still in the lot and none of the pilots had left yet.

She knew that they wouldn't be long though, and waited.

Indeed, slowly one or two emerged from the building, and finally so did he. He spotted her almost immediately.

"Hey-" She spoke in her slickest, silkiest voice- she had enjoyed him, she wanted more.

"You never told me you worked here." He raised an eyebrow as he turned and walked to her.

"Don't ya think that'd ruin all the fun?" She laughed and called to him. He broke his serious character for a moment and shook his head with a smile.

"So, what? You missed me, sweets?" He spoke as he approached, his voice as confident and loud as ever- almost asking his classmates to look over and see what a woman he had chasing him.

"You like the big bold words, don't you?" She gave a breathy laugh.

"What? You don't think they suit me? Cos I'm never wrong with em' missy-" (Y/n) almost hated that he was both arrogant and witty enough to match her- and yet it worked so well and drove her just about crazy.

As Hangman spoke he smirked his usual, knowing smirk, and moved right into her personal space- He hoped that this could be a sustained relationship, nothing serious, just happy, casual rendezvous whilst he was here. He guessed that was the kind of thing she was after. He would have been right.

"Oh- they suit you fine, Sir." She returned as she let him tower over her, looked up and let the corners of her lips turn upward at him.

"You wanna do something I've always wanted to try?" He asked in a hushed tone, deciding that now was his moment and if anyone was gonna agree to it with him, it'd be this beautiful, absolute devil of a woman that'd he'd come across. He raised an eyebrow as he asked and she was immediately intrigued. He really didn't have any shame asking that- no hesitation- he knew what he wanted and he was do his best to get it. And she knew what it was he wanted.

"Well now I'm curious" She replied with a smile. His lips parted slightly but stopped, he needed more confirmation than that."What? Are you gonna leave me hangin here?" She nodded up at him and his eyes lit up all fiery and keen.

They quietly headed back to the building, both with a knowing, keen smile on their faces.

They were both smart enough to make sure no one was around, and that the security cameras didn't cover the area they were heading to. It was working out exceedingly well.

Before they knew it, they were steaming up the cockpit of his jet, fulfilling the dream of every horny pilot. I mean- everyone had to have at least considered it once, right?

It was a pretty tight space, but they made it work, and work pretty well. There was no room for being rough, the way he liked to- and she had to be on top. He liked it, she did it well.

He loved his work, he wouldn't usually mix pleasure in there with it, risk so much- but there was a thrill about it. He wouldn't be a pilot if he didn't believe that adrenaline pumping through your veins was the best feeling in the world.

Plus, she was up for it and he wasn't gonna pass up a chance to not just fulfill the fantasy, but to do it with a woman who he thought was an absolute smoke stack.

He knew he wasn't gonna be able to think about anything but this when he got back here in the morning. He'd just see her face and hear every pretty sound she made in his ear and feel every confident movement she made on him.

He didn't usually go for the assertive woman, but he'd now learnt that lesson- he'd met his match.

They didn't rush, but they were both done surprisingly quick- something about this did it for both of them.

Less than a quarter of an hour later they were going for round two on the floor of the locker room. That wasn't planned, but it allowed him to take charge again; and both of them wanted it.

It was good sex, hot and sweaty and really good.

Once again, the element of exhibitionism was at play. He was gonna love knowing what he'd done in this locker room as he zipped on his flight suit in the morning, surrounded by his colleagues who'd know fuck all about it. He was gonna remember the cold tiles on his back, her nails scraping down his chest and stomach and the way strands of her dark hair fell over her face.

This was heaven, for the both of them.

The only problem though, with the thrill of potentially getting caught, is that you could potentially get caught.

When the latch on the door sounded and Bob walked in, he got the fright of his life.

He only wanted to grab something he'd left behind and instead he was presented with his colleague and a woman he'd never seen before, going at it on the floor in front of him.

He let out a yell of surprise- though he didn't mean to.

"Shit-" Hangman looked up and saw him. "Bob!" He half yelled but didn't want to bring any attention to them. "Get out!"

"Sorry!" He looked away awkwardly and sort of went to close the door- but the action was stopped by Warlock- who out out his hand and held it open.

He'd heard the squeak from Bob down the hall and now he saw the same thing.

He was frankly unphased, he'd been putting up with shit from young pilots for a long time now. Though, this was new.

"Clean yourselves up and be in my office in five minutes." He spoke calmly and shut the door.

The pair seperated and looked at eachother and then couldn't help but laugh.

"Fuck-" Hangman breathed, he was kinda angry at himself, and would be especially if this came off badly for his career, but his arrogant persona told him he might get away with it. Plus, as arrogant, stuck up and aggressive as he could be- and annoyed as he was to have been interrupted- he wasn't gonna let her know that if she thought it was funny. He did have a sense of humour.

They hurriedly got dressed and headed for Warlock's office, (y/n) spoke a hasty but giggly sorry to Bob, whom she felt sorry for with the sheepish look on his face as they passed by him on their way out. He still needed whatever it was that he'd left behind and looked apprehensive to enter the room.

Hangman turned however, and gave him a glare.

"You tell anyone about this- you're dead." He said it with such conviction that anyone would have believed he was serious about that threat.

They stood in the office, Warlock across from them at his desk in silence. He'd already taken her name and written it down. He was just waiting.

The door opened and the instructor (y/n) had seen earlier that day walked in.

"Capitain Mitchell." Finally Bates spoke, looking past the two offenders he had stood before him.

That was the last piece of the puzzle required for Bates to rip into the pair whilst the Top Gun instructor stood present.

It was over quite swiftly, just a telling off and a strict warning. They'd done no harm, so no discipline was necessary- and thankfully Bates didn't know about what they'd done inside a multimillion dollar aircraft. Then things might have gotten serious.

They were dismissed with a shake of the head and strict instructions never to even think about doing anything like that again.

(Y/n) left the room first, followed by Seresin, who's first name she now knew was Jake, and then Capitain Mitchell, who let an amused, but almost confused smile grace his face as he left the room.

They all three walked down the hall, the pair told to go home and the Capitain having intended to do so before he was called to be present to see his student get ripped a new one.

He walked a little behind them, told to make sure they did leave.

"Hey, Miss?" He'd not caught her name.

(Y/n) stopped, turned and looked at him.

"Yes?" She replied, not knowing at all what he might want.

"Can I ask, where did you get that jacket?" Maverick asked, a gentle expression on his face as he looked at it draped over her arm.

"Oh- My Mom had it in her closet when she died, I don't know where she got it from..." She replied looking down at it. "Why?"

"Just- I think that used to belong to me, well to my dad and then to me..." He spoke with an air of nostalgia. He held out his hand. "May I?"

It was just an old brownish jacket, it was like an old flight jacket she had always guessed, very practical. That's why she always wore it. She never guessed it would have been at all a real flight jacket or anything even like that rather than a reproduction, because she'd always known those to have quite obvious insignia or a name tacked on the front.

She nodded and gave it to him. He opened it and looked inside- and found an old faded tag in the lining.

He smiled and gave a small laugh.

"Yeah- look" He pointed to it and held it to the light for her to see. "D. Mitchell. That's my dad." He shook his head as he ran his thumb over the writing. He handed it back to her.

"Oh- Don't you want it back?" She spoke, slightly bemused as she thought on what she'd just been shown.

"No, you keep it. You've had it long enough, it's yours... I thought I'd lost that jacket in, what? 1986? Last time I was here. I guess somehow your Mom got a hold of it. Nice to see it again though." He smiled and shook his head.

"86?" (Y/n) asked, as Maverick went to walk away.

"Yeah- back when I was the hot shot at Top Gun." He sort of shrugged.

"Right... Thanks." She spoke slowly, and Mav nodded, began to walk away again.

She stood there for a moment.

"Um- Sir!" She called after him and took a few steps in his direction, her hands now shaking as she came to a strange realisation. She clutched the jacket close to her.

He turned to her and nodded.

"Yeah?"

"Sorry- this is gonna sound insane-" She felt uncharacteristically unsure. "I think you might be my father." (Y/n) blurted out.

Maverick just raised an eyebrow and stepped toward her.

"My name is (Y/n) Mitchell." She suddenly felt the desperate need to explain herself. "I was born in early 1987 and my Mom gave me my father's surname, but she never told me his full name- I don't think she even knew it. She said he wasn't around, they'd only had a fling. If you were here in 86', you were a Top Gun pilot, then she'd have known your name from your uniform- then it'd make sense that you weren't around for long. You probably left this jacket at her apartment at some point." She spoke quickly and with an air of desperation that made him listen to her, though she stuttered a little.

"Hey- kid..." He tried to process that information.

Suddenly (y/n) scrambled at the jacket, she went in the pocket and grabbed her wallet, she took it out and frantically went through it- she pulled out a photograph.

"Look- this is her. She was 19 when she had me, but..." She held it out to him. "I never cared about who my father was, I didn't ever ask about him so she never told me much but... This adds up?" She spoke as he took the photo and looked at it.

"Yeah. I knew your Mom... I met her and I went out a couple times with her, I slept with her- It wasn't anything serious, I got a girlfriend not long after and I didn't stick around here as an instructor..." He thought it through. "You're sure there's no one else it could be?"

"No. She wasn't with anyone else around then, that's why she was confident enough to give me your last name." (Y/n) spoke, almost stunned with her own revelation.

"Wow..." Mav spoke. "She never told me- If she tried to I never got any message about it." He told her, still holding the photograph, looking between it and the young woman claiming to be his daughter. Now he looked at her, studied her face- he saw a spooky resemblance. I mean, it could have been the shock of the moment, or the fact that he almost wanted the resemblance to be there but- the shape of her eyes, the darkness of her hair, her smile, her expressions- they were his.

"I don't know what to say..." Mav spoke. He wasn't upset. She almost expected him to be angry or something. "You've been here all this time?" He asked, his expression soft and stunned.

"Yeah." She nodded.

He almost couldn't believe it, but it made sense. He didn't know what he'd have done if he had known, he thought he probably would have been a horrible father at the time- but he couldn't do anything about that now. He probably wouldn't have been. Before she was even born he'd stepped into a fatherly role for Goose's son, he didn't know if he could have done that with his own kid. He never would know. But it was almost exciting- to find out he had a kid. Equally so heartbreaking, to have missed out on so much. Christ, he didn't even know for sure yet that she was his daughter- but to have a daughter- that was amazing, surely?

"(Y/n)?" He spoke her name. He liked it. He just smiled and then nodded. She still looked apprehensive. "You're right. It all adds up."

Finally (Y/n) breathed. She didn't know what to say or do. She never had cared about this man, but now he was very likely right in front of her and she realised that it might be nice to have some family- she'd had none for so long. This was just so sudden.

"I think you can call that jacket a family heirloom now." Maverick joked- and she understood then where she got her humour from. She smiled and stared at him, unsure of if she was going to cry or if she wanted to hug him. She didn't know what a daughter should do when she finds her probable father for the first time. She didn't expect the wave of emotions to come from this. She had never expected to care so much.

Meanwhile, Hangman watched. This was strange- but his main thought, which he simply couldn't help himself but to think, with a satisfied smirk plastered across his lips, was:

"I think I just fucked the Capitain's daughter."

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

TAGLIST:

@thespeeder @fangirlinc @inglourious-imagines @gh0strr

(These are the only ones I'm pretty sure wanted tagged in everything TG so I hope that's ok!)

I currently have a Rooster taglist, so I'm not gonna use that for this fic (because it's obviously not for 🐔) but if you wanna be added to a general TG/TGM taglist if you could let me know under the TG masterlist that'd be great! :)

[adorethedistance]

City Slicker, Cowboyfriend - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, nerves, mentions of covid.

Words: 2163

Summary: You’re starting to have doubts about moving all the way to Norman until a shopping trip to Ikea turns into the meet-cute you’ve been waiting for.

A/n: This isn’t a request or one of my Valentines day fics, this is just something that I have had stuck in my head ever since Owen posted this on IG and bc I’m facing total writers block with my other pieces I cranked this one out in a few hours to get the ball rolling again. Hopefully. Enjoy this totally unproofed, fluffy madness!! (Because who doesn’t need more Owen content in their life?)

There are perks to moving and one of them is undoubtedly: shopping. For furniture, home decor, kitchen utensils, whatever! Granted, shopping alone can be tedious and, for some, like pulling teeth, thus, I’ve enlisted the help of my best friends Leila and Chelsea. I didn’t even have to bribe them to come because everyone loves getting lost in Ikea. It’s one of the best things about the human experience.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been in an Ikea,” Leila says to no one in particular as we walk through the onslaught of staged bedrooms.

“What?! Are you telling me you don’t get meatballs and lawn chairs on a weekly basis?” My exaggeration makes Leila laugh as she steps into one of the display kitchens. Looking between me and Chelsea she asks,

“What would you do if I turned the handle then a jet of water sprayed out?”

“Die, I guess.”

The three of us continue through the faux house displays and past the mattresses despite Leila’s urge to jump on every single one. As we walk through the section of different lighting features, I sigh with a frown as I think about college. I changed my bachelor’s to an associate’s so I could graduate in two years. Chelsea’s parents moved out here at the end of our senior year in high school, and she moved with them to study in Norman. Leila in turn went to Arizona for an athletic physical therapy gig, leaving me to face college alone in L.A.. In the two years the three of us were apart, we missed each other more and more, and after determining which of the three states we lived in was cheapest, we packed up and headed East. Covid kind of delayed our plans. But after a few months, I picked Leila up from Arizona and together we chased open job opportunities into Norman, Oklahoma. The three of us found an apartment space to live in together and thus, we ended up in Ikea on this fine Sunday afternoon.

Snapping back into reality I see Leila standing directly under a light that’s hanging very low from the ceiling. Once standing directly underneath it, she pulls down her mask and opens her mouth, rising to her toes to eat the fixture.

“Leila, don’t you dare fellate that light bulb! You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

I swear I’m practically their mom when it comes to behaving in public. Figuring they can’t hurt themselves in the college dorm section, I lead them quickly through it and into the giant furniture warehouse section. On the far wall, I see a large poster of a couple smiling brightly behind Chelsea, but I don’t bother to read the text. Leila and I spot the poster at the same time, and the imagery jogs her memory.

“Chelsea, how’s Hunter? Haven’t heard from him slash about him in like a week,” she asks about Chelsea’s boyfriend of a year.

“Oh, yeah, he tore a ligament in his wrist.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I guess he moved it wrong or something and put too much stress on the area that it just tore. He was moving hay bales into the horse stables.”

“As opposed to the chicken stables,” Leila judges under her breath, which makes me snicker as a result.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating a literal cowboy,” I interject, “Like, I know we’re in Oklahoma, and he’s from Tennessee, but we saw Texas on the way out here and that’s cowboy country. Norman seems more...” I trail off in search of delicate phrasing.

“Just barely marry your cousin territory, but still downing chewing tobacco whilst driving a lifted truck?” Leila hits the nail squarely on the head.

“Yeah, that sounds about right-” Before I can continue giving my thoughts on Norman, I cut myself off at the sound of laughter behind me.

“Sorry. We weren’t trying to eavesdrop, that was just really funny.” When I turn around, I see a guy roughly our age dressed in all black with bleach-blonde hair, speaking through light, broken laughter.

“No worries,” I dismiss the apology as we pass by one another, and out from the dressers section. The three of us continue into the different sections, and come to a stop once I see we’re exactly where we need to be: dining room shit!

“Cowboy boyfriends aside- oh my gosh: cowboy boyfriends. Cowboyfriends,” I say getting lost in my new terminology. Both of my friends share a mix of laughter and gasps and my ingeniousness. “Anyway. Cowboyfriends aside, how is Avery?” I ask Leila who begins blushing madly.

“She’s really good. We were just making plans for our three year anniversary, which reminds me to tell y’all I’m flying back to Phoenix to surprise her.”

“Awwww,” I nearly tear up and the sweet image of Leila and her girlfriend reuniting, “Y’all are so cute. Both of you and your partners. You know, being the only single friend in this group has made life suck a lot. Y’all are so happy and in love and not dead inside. Honestly? Get fucked both of you.” Despite my harsh words, the three of us break into a lighthearted conglomerate of laughter.

“We’ll find you someone… eventually.” Leila pretends she also can’t hear the last part of her sentence despite being the one saying it.

“I know, but I don’t think it’s in the cards for me to find love in Norman. I don’t need a cowboyfriend, and we’re not gonna find a true city slicker here either.”

When I finish my statement, I see our blonde friend seems to have followed us. I observe he comes to a stop in front of another guy in a flannel with a shopping cart. The way they jump into conversation with one another parallels the animated body language Leila, Chelsey, and I share. I continue to watch their exchange as Chelsea speaks up.

“Maybe you need someone right down the middle.”

“Yeah, like a guy who drives a truck but uses it to transport Ikea furniture instead of a whole ass tree that he’ll carve into a chair.” A small laugh escapes my lips, at both Leila’s statement, and the scene ahead of Blondie pretending to strangle his friend over something. I’m snapped out of my nosy yet endeared stare as a third guy appears. He’s a sandy blonde with billowing locks tucked under a trucker hat. And he came from behind me and my two friends to place something in their cart which keeps his back toward me. When he turns back around, my mind goes blank. Any thoughts of shopping for dining room chairs has left my mind. He is wearing a face mask, but he has such nice eyes that he could have a giraffe snout under the mask for all I care. I see him look up from the shelves, directly into my eyes. We stay locked for a moment before he breaks away and turns to his friends. I slowly turn to my friends too who are both giving me the exact same look of excitement and conspiracy.

“He’s really cute,” I sigh out with a laugh, swooning much louder than I’d have preferred.

“He has a face mask on,” Leila points out, her expression dropping from excited to cynical.

“Still! I can just tell.”

“Girl, what are you doing? Talk to him!” Chelsea whisper-shrieks.

“Shhh, I cannot take you anywhere!”

Glancing back at the handsome stranger, we connect eyes once more and I feel my face heat furiously as I realize he was already looking at me. I’m the first to break; I consult my friends for the best course of action and as I’m turned 180 to face them, Chelsea starts pretending to hyperventilate excitedly. Leila looks over my shoulder for me, discreetly surveying the other trio in the dining chairs aisle.

“Don’t look now, but he’s talking to his friends and looking between them and you.” I can hear in her voice she’s trying her best not to smile despite wearing a face mask.

“Should I give him my number?”

“Yes!”

“What are you waiting for?”

“I’m nervous! What if he’s gay?”

“Will you just get over there? I promise you a gay man would not be wearing what he’s wearing right now. Maybe a lesbian,” Leila adds for good measure.

“You guys are freaking me out, I need you to leave so I know you’re not judging my flirting.” I shoo my best friends out of the aisle as inconspicuous as possible. Kinda wish blondie would’ve done the same because when I turn back around, the other trio hasn’t moved and the only one looking at me is the one in all black. He quickly averts his eyes though and I take one last deep breath before walking over to the stranger. I tilt my chin up ever so slightly to fake a sense of confidence that I unmistakably don’t have right now.

“Hey.” Really, Y/n? Hey??

“Hey,” he greets back breathily. Why is he nervous? I’m the one who gets to be nervous! Man, he’s really cute. I can’t fuck this one up. I’m not doing so stellar right now. Perhaps you should say something else, dipshit?

“Uhm,” I should’ve scripted this. “I just wanted to say that-” You’ve got this. Don’t be a bummer. “I-uh, I think you’re really cute and I was wondering if I could give you my number?” My speech is slow, each word deliberate in spite of the fact that I feel like I’m having an out of body experience right now. I’m not the one in control of the words that are coming out of my mouth.

Upon realizing why I walked over, blondie’s friends take the question as a sign to leave and less than inconspicuously back away from the two of us. Trucker hat spares them one last glance over his left shoulder and judging by the look flannel gives him, they were definitely talking about me in their team huddle.

“Uh, yeah. I was gonna ask for your instagram- if you have one, that is.”

“I’m cool with both.” The two of us reach for our phones and unlock them with anxious hands. I move to hand him my phone with instagram open, and he trades me for his which has a new contact open. I type my name and put my favorite heart emoji next to it after triple checking the number is correct. Wow, you’re just so ballsy today, Y/n!!!!! I give him back the phone, scanning the instagram account he’s just opened and followed for me. I hear him exhale a little harder as a small laugh and can only imagine it’s from the stupid heart emoji.

“Owen,” I say in a hushed, endeared voice, fully not intending to say it out loud. “You have a million followers?! Oh, you’re an actor. OH… You’re an actor.” I really don’t need to be speaking my entire thought process right now in the middle of this Ikea. Exhaling a small laugh of my own, I see we already have a small bunch of mutuals, one of which is… Chelsea??? Looking up from my phone I turn around to see Chelsea and Leila watching the interaction from around the corner of one of the industrial shelves.

In the flurry of scattered likes, I see him find my account and follow me back. I accept the request, nervous of what he thinks of me without a face mask on. What do I think of him without a face mask on? Going back to his account, seeing his entire face is even better than just his eyes. I was right, Leila: he is cute.

“You’re really pretty,” I hear him almost sigh as he combs through the grid of my account. The comment makes my heart beat all the much faster and I finally look upward to get a glimpse of Owen in the flesh. Still as beautiful as the last time I checked!

Sparing a quick glance over my shoulder, he looks back down at me and laughs,

“I think your friends got tired of waiting.”

“I think yours did, too.” The other members of our trios come back into the aisle we had kicked them from more or less two minutes ago. We connect eyes once more and stare longingly, wordlessly at one another, so lost in each other’s beauty our friends have to break up the staring contest of infatuation.

“Y/n?” I hear Leila behind me.

“Uh, well, I have to get back to chair shopping, but- text me later?”

“For sure.”

“For sure,” I mimic his voice.

“Guess I’ll see you later. Y/n.”

“Yeah.” And with that, we’re pulled apart by our respective best friends, through the vast expanse of the Norman Ikea.

“What was that?” Chelsea asks, excitedly linking arms with me.

“I don’t know I- Wait, you have some explaining to do!”

*** 

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @lilyjoyner 

[vs-redemption]

hello there i just wanna say i love your work and you have great talent!! anyway can i request a part 2 of your cheating hawks?? aaaa thank you!

A/N: Ah! I still can’t believe the response the first part of this story got. I’m almost nervous to post the sequel because I don’t want anyone to be disappointed. I did my best though, and I really hope it lives up to everyone’s expectations!

Betrayal: Part Two (Cheater!Hawks X Fem!Reader)

✨Please click HERE if you haven’t read part one

⚠️This story contains angst and some hints of manga spoilers⚠️

Hawks had persevered through a lot of hardships during his life so far. He’d spent the first few years of his life living in a dump with neglectful parents. Then, he’d had his childhood stolen away by the Hero Public Safety Commission who put him through over a decade of grueling training and emotionally detached living conditions. After that, they had thrown him out into the world to be their obedient pro-hero puppet with hardly any freedom to make his own career decisions. He used to lament over the difficulties of his life, wishing he’d had a more normal and easygoing upbringing. Now, however, he understood that he hadn’t known what true suffering was before. The struggles he’d experienced in his past were nothing compared to the soul crushing agony he was living right now. It had hardly been a week since he’d broken your heart, but it may as well have been years with the way the time seemed to stretch out as if wanting to add minutes on to the miserable haze he was stuck in.

The alarm on the nightstand goes off, telling him he had to get up for work even though he was already wide awake. Mornings were torturous for him now with the empty space in his bed taunting him with the memories of waking up with you held safely in his arms. Hawks covers his face with his hands as unshed tears well up and sting his sleep deprived eyes. Every night he went to bed hoping that when he woke up, the nightmare of your absence would be over. Such wishful thinking only made the truth hurt all the more when it came creeping back into his mind with the morning sun.

“Wow, you look awful,” Jet stream grimaces once Hawks makes it into work. She gives him a once over, taking in the unkempt state of his hair and dead look in his eyes. “You really should put more effort into keeping up appearances or people might start to suspect that something’s going on with you.”

Hawks blinks a few times as he stares at the woman who had been sent to work at his agency by the Hero Commission. All the public records showed that he had recruited her from a different agency to make use of her incredible flight speed that nearly rivaled his own. That was just a cover up though to keep anyone from knowing the truth.

“Something is going on,” Hawks states flatly while glancing down at the canned coffee he held tightly in his hands. He’d been forced to betray the trust of the only person in the world who had genuinely cared about him. Jet stream frowns and folds her arms over her chest.

“You know what I mean,” She tells him in an authoritative tone of voice that made Hawks feel like he was five years old again. He hated being reminded just how little power he had even though he was the number two hero in the country with one of the highest popularity ratings. If only he’d known better way back when the commission had first offered to help him achieve his dreams. But how could he have predicted that the hands which had gladly lifted him up to unimaginable heights would be the same hands threatening to crush him if he didn’t obey their every command?

“You don’t want to blow your cover,” Jet stream raises an eyebrow before turning on her heel and sauntering away. Hawks reaches up a gloved hand to massage the bridge of his nose, wishing with every fiber of his being that he could call you up and apologize for the hell he was putting both of you through. He wanted to tell you that you were the love of his life and that there wasn’t a single part of him that would ever even dream of looking at another woman let alone what he’d led you to believe he’d done. He couldn’t contact you though. The higher ups at the Hero Commission had made him promise that he wouldn’t, especially with the undercover mission they’d assigned him recently. They’d told him it wouldn’t be safe for him to have any unnecessary personal connections for a while.

What they didn’t seem to understand though was that you were necessary. Despite it being a dangerous time to be associated with him, Hawks sometimes felt like it was impossible to even breathe whenever the reality hit him that he would never have you by his side again. Knowing what you must think of him now made his stomach roll. And even if the Hero Commission allowed him to explain everything, he doubted it would make a difference. The damage was done. The pain and hurt he had caused was real, even if the story behind it wasn’t.

Weeks stretched into months and as Hawks progressed with his mission he found himself faced with terrible decisions that made him question whether anything he accomplished in the end would be worth the sacrifices he’d made. Since he was a child, all he’d ever wanted was to be a great hero. And when he’d first debuted, saving people’s lives and making the world a safer place seemed to offset some of the less glamorous parts of the job. Now though, Hawks felt numb as he went through the motions, doing whatever he could just to survive day to day. At a glance, it probably looked like he was the same confident, charming hero everyone knew and loved. On the inside though, he was an empty husk. He’d wanted to be a great hero ever since he was a child, but now the only thing he really wanted was you.

“You know, I think it’s about time for some costume upgrades,” Jet Stream says casually one day while flying over the city with Hawks on patrol. She was fidgeting with one of the gadgets on her wrist that he’d never even seen her use. Hawks hated having to share the sky with her so much. The only purpose she served was to spy on him for the Hero Commission, making sure he didn’t so much as bat an eye without their explicit permission. The weight of her presence felt like a shackle.

“Oh, look who it is!” Jet Stream points down to the street below and Hawk’s feel’s a spark of life in his chest when his golden eyes zero in on you. Just the smile on your face is enough to send his heart fluttering around his ribcage. He hadn’t seen you in so long, but the happiness of seeing you again is short lived when a man steps up beside you and takes your hand into his. Seeing you lean comfortably into the man’s touch felt like a knife stabbing him in the gut. Hawks has to physically swallow back the bile rising up in his throat when he realizes just how lost you really are to him. Part of him was happy to see that you weren’t suffering the way that he was, but another part of him envied your ability to move forward from the tragic end of your relationship. Hawks would never be able to move forward. Unlike you, he was a prisoner to his past with what seemed like no means of escape. Perhaps one day he would break free of the Commission’s hold on him, but until then, he’d have to continue enduring the hardships life threw at him.

Tags: @hawksexual// @lilnachochip// @todominica// @neonokinawa// @iluvvhewer// @effmigentlywithachainsaw// @sunniethesimp//

[dorcxsmdws]

@fxprewettx

"Heard my brother and Carrow got one of the Prewett twins last night.”

 She hated this assignment.  She hated every moment she had to associate with these disgusting, brainless psychopaths.  But she was good at it.  She was good at finding an opening, at integrating herself into their circles.  At gaining trust and influence with all the wrong sorts of people.  She was good at it, and she despised that she was.  But it was a necessary evil, having a spy behind enemy lines.  She had to step back and look at it logically and understand that every piece of collateral damage, every person she was forced to hurt, every morally bankrupt action she took, was all a part of the greater good.  Did the ends justify the means?  She had to believe that they did.  She was gaining their trust, and the more trust she gained the more people she could save in the end.

The greatest hinderance had been her blood status, but even that was quickly minimized once she pried the door open far enough to show them her talent.  Magic came easily to her, so when she was competing against men like William Mulciber and Rabastan Lestrange, who looked at the war as a sort of dick measuring contest , it became easy to sweep her lack of purity under the rug.  Equally, that talent allowed her to create a false sense of comradery with some of the others near her age.  It was how she found herself at Rabastan Lestrange’s flat, helping him work through a plan for an assignment.  It was quite an easy task.  It should have been idiot-proof, but perhaps even that was too high a bar for Rabastan.

The quill had been pressed to her lips as she worked through exactly how to imply he was an idiot without saying those words exactly when she comprehended what he had said.  She was well versed in stoicism, even when her friends were being discussed by the worst of humanity; she had learned to keep a straight face while listening in on plans that required an urgent warning.  She knew how to do her job, and she knew how to do it well.  It was the only reason she was still alive.  

But for the first time she nearly blew her cover.

"Yeah?”  Her voice was steady, but her back was to him.  He couldn’t see the wave of emotions hit her.  She had always been quiet.  It wasn’t insecurity, as so many had assumed.  She wasn’t an insecure person.  Rather, she simply preferred to watch and observe, to form an opinion before allowing herself to step forward into an unfamiliar situation.  It was just that not many bothered to wait until she was ready.  The Prewetts had though.  They had waited, and they had never left.  “Did you hear which one?”

She had no siblings, not by blood anyway.  But from the moment Gideon had held her broom steady when the pair of them caught her down practicing on the pitch after hours, from the moment Fabian tossed walnuts at her so she could practice her dives, from the moment they had cheered the loudest when she made the team, when she caught her first snitch, despite being in different houses, she knew what it meant to have brothers.  People she could count on to support her, and in equal measure, there wasn’t a thing she wouldn’t do for them.

The war was heating up.  It had been weeks since she had been able to safely get away.  If Rabastan was right, if one of them was truly gone, the fact that she hadn’t gotten the chance to say goodbye had easily become her greatest regret.  Who had she lost?  Who had the world lost?   Gideon with his easy laugh and kind nature?  Fabian with his compassion and his love of dragons?  Which had been taken, and which was going to have to find a way to survive without their other half?  God, she needed to go.

“Dunno.  Don’t suppose it matters.  They’ll find the other soon enough.  It’s a good thing, if you ask me.  A dead blood traitor is the best sort.”

She just nodded.  “Can I see your wand for a moment?”  Her voice was as even as it always was, but she could feel something dangerous building inside of her at the cavalier nature of his words.  “I’m thinking this will work best if you get a Muggle suit jacket.  Not a full tuxedo coat, that will be too much.  But a nice blazer in whatever color will blend the most.  I can pick one up for you, but I want to be sure I add enough room for you to holster your wand up the sleeve.”  She gestured down to her paper where she was prepared to mark the size of his wand.  “You could tell me, but I don’t know what nine inches looks like.  I need a visual.”

Rabastan, the idiot, Lestrange passed her his wand without looking at her, his eyes still on the toy quaffle he was tossing into the air.  It was for that reason he didn’t notice as she pulled her sleeve over her hand to cover her finger prints.  The jet of green light, from his own wand, struck him in the chest and he never saw it coming.  She watched as his arms fell against the bed like a marionette whose strings were cut, his vacant eyes staring at his bedroom ceiling.  Never allowing his wand to touch her bare fingers she carefully rolled it under the bed, watching it get lost in a jungle of dust bunnies and crumpled candy wrappers.  She pulled out her own wand, making quick work of the room, vanishing any sign that he wasn’t alone that night.  Before she left she walked to him, the only guilt was over the lack of guilt she felt for taking a life.  Using her sleeve again, she gently closed his eyes, tilting his head to the side.  She used her wand to slide the blanket out from under him and over his stocky frame.  With any luck it would take them some time to even realize he was dead.  She walked out onto the balcony and twisted, disappearing from the Lestrange manor like she had never been there at all.

----

It was not a good idea.  She didn’t think she was being followed.  If she was someone surely would have retaliated after she killed Rabastan Lestrange.  But it still wasn’t safe.  For more her own sake than anyone else’s, but the risk for her Order friends wasn’t nothing.  She’d stopped caring about what happened to her a long time ago, but it was grossly unfair of her to put anyone else at risk.  But this?  This was more important than her safety, and she felt very sure that anyone who threatened her or the people she cared about this moment would be easily dealt with.  She was angry, she felt like she was teetering on the edge, uncaring what was right and wrong in this moment.  Two wrongs didn’t make a right, but killing a Death Eater surely would save someone grief somewhere down the line.  She was more than willing to compromise her own soul for that benefit in this moment..

She knew she’d be able to get into their flat.  A better question was whether she was wanted.  Was quiet grief more important than support?  She thought about it for only a moment before she decided that she didn’t care.  She opened her mouth to call out down the hallway, but she closed it as soon as she realized she didn’t know who to call out to?  Her heart ached far more for the brother who had lost his twin than for her own grief, although there would be time to manage that later.  The floor board creaked as she stepped into the hall, her wand held loosely in her hand.  She was prepared to disarm if needed.

First she poked her head into Fabian’s room.  She could feel the fear creeping in as she found it empty, but she didn’t want to make assumptions.  Not until she knew.  She turned, stepping deeper into the flat -- and that’s when she heard the rustling.  Her fingers tightened around her wand as she pushed the door open.  Her eyes closed as she saw the figure on the bed, immediately recognize Fabian; relief and grief fighting for dominance in her.  One of them was okay.  Fabian was -- he was alive, but Gideon...

Hesitantly stepping forward she sat next to him on the bed.  This was not her first brush with death.  This was not the first time she had lost someone she cared about, not the first time she was at a loss for words.  But this was the first time she desperately reached for the right ones.  This was the first time she wanted to get it right, to say the right thing.  She wanted to take on some of his pain, even though she knew it to be impossible.  So instead she just sat there, reaching for his hand after a long moment of silence.

[dreamersleeps]

Todoroki Enji and the Egyptian Sun God Ra

(Part Four: Mythological Influences in Boku no Hero Academia) 

Note: ok, so I’m kinda nervous to post this. . . but here we are

So how did I get to comparing the Egyptian sun god Ra to Endeavor? To sum it up, this is the fourth post in a set of analysis and meta about mythological influences in BNHA, so a lot of this builds on top of the info and connections I’ve made previously.

There are quite a few references and influences to Greek mythology in BNHA and personally I was very intrigued with the Hawks and Icarus parallels that kept popping up. In the myth of Icarus, the sun melts the wax off of Icarus’ artificial wings which causes him to fall and drown in the ocean. I saw Endeavor as one of Hawks’ metaphorical “suns”. While I sat on that, I began looking at Tokoyami, since he has a mentor-student relationship with Hawks, and found how he has Egyptian influences in his character design which I wrote about in a post here. 

I began researching and reading through ancient Egyptian myths and information. One of the figures that caught my attention was the ancient Egyptian’s most important god: Ra, the sun god. (He is the falcon headed figure depicted below.)  I quickly found some similarities between Ra and Endeavor. 

This image is from the expereince-ancient-egypt website. 

Before I begin, I’d like to say I am very much aware that BNHA is a Japanese manga series and that the story is greatly influenced by Japanese culture and society. Unless there are very explicit examples (such as the case of Tokoyami) this post is not me saying that Horikoshi intentionally wrote certain characters and aspects inspired by Egyptian mythology. I just like like finding interesting similarities whether they were intentional or coincidental and writing about it. 

That being stated, let’s begin. 

Ra: The Egyptian God of the Sun 

The original source of the image above is unknown. 

So, who exactly is Ra? 

Ra was the Ancient Egyptian sun god. The sun had a special place among the ancient Egyptians, they considered it the source of life. He was... the creator of the universe, one of the most famous deities... 

Ancient Egyptians believed that Ra created himself, and his tears created humans. The setting of the sun means the beginning of the daily journey by Ra, in which he travels by his holy boat to the underworld every evening, to fight the forces of evil represented in a big snake called Apophis, and then returns to a brilliant triumph in the heights of the sky every morning on a new day. The ancient Egyptian saw this as a sign of human resurrection, and also evidence of Ra’s victory over the forces of chaos and evil (cleopatraegypttours). 

Throughout all the websites I went through, Ra was very closely associated with the themes of the sun, life, the underworld, resurrection and victory over chaos and evil.

Let’s focus more on Ra’s journey through the underworld. 

During his life he was required, as the incarnation and representative of the sun god, to maintain the cosmic and social order (ma’at) established by the god of creation. He had to repel the forces of chaos which constantly threatened the order of the world. 

After his d/eath, the king united with the sun disk and his divine body merged with his creator. In his new role he continued to perform the task of subduing the powers of chaos. This active role of the king and sun god necessitated a detailed description of the d/amned, who represent the forces of evil. 

Perhaps you may be starting to see the similarities and connections I began to form between Ra and Endeavor. If not, it’s okay. Sometimes II have to sit on a lot of the information I’m taking in before I see anything. 

Endeavor’s Powers

Endeavor’s fire-based quirk is called “Hellflame.” The list of his named moves are: Flashfire Fist (Jet Burn, Hell Spider, Hell’s Curtain), Karmic Raze - Hellfire Storm, Raging Assault - Hell Minefield, Vanishing Fist, and Prominence Burn. As you can see, there’s a lot of mentions of the word: Hell. 

While we can connect the “hell theme” back to Ra’s connections to the underworld, I would first like to point out what the Egyptian underworld was. We associate fire, suffering and other things with hell, however, this is a depiction that comes from the Abrahamic/Judeo-Christian religions. 

The image above depicts a section of the Egyptian Book of the D/ead with Osiris on the left and the Weighting of the Heart taking place on the right. 

There were many sources that described the extensive processes of the underworld and afterlife so I’m keeping it simple here. Anyways, the ancient Egyptians did not really have a concept of this sort of hell. Instead, after death, a part of the soul would travel through the underworld which was also known as Duat for judgement. They underwent a judgement process that had two parts and if they passed, they moved on to the Reed Fields which was Paradise. Those who failed simply ceased to be.

The “hell” that is probably being referred back to with Endeavor’s quirk and powers most likely was influenced with other cultures, again more specifically those with Abrahamic/Judeo-Christian religions. Despite this difference I do still think that there are other interesting similarities between Endeavor and Ra. 

For example, I’ve already established in a previous post that I like to associate Endeavor to the sun. A lot of this post will rely heavily on what happened during the High End vs Endeavor fight. The move he is using above is called “Prominence Burn.” According to NASA: 

a solar prominence (also known as a filament when viewed against the solar disk) is a large, bright feature extending outwards into the Sun’s hot outer atmosphere

This is the finishing move that helps Endeavor defeat the High End and this is very significant because it is the only move with a name that relates back to the sun. 

In Chapter 188 during the High End fight, Endeavor is even depicted as a fiery sphere of fire and light high up in the sky, very visually similar to the sun. 

If you need more evidence for sun related themes surrounding Endeavor, Ending, the criminal who kidnaps Natsuo describes him as “A fierce solar flare that shines bright.” 

One of Ra’s main duties is to keep order and defeat the “forces of chaos and evil.” Endeavor and the heroes in general sort of view themselves as this force of good and see the “villains” as enemies that have to be taken care of. I don’t agree with the ideas that “all heroes are good, and all villains are bad” and that is definitely not the message that Horikoshi is trying to send. It is because that sort of belief exists that hero society is flawed. Typically, when reading through mythology or religious texts, the themes of absolute good and absolute evil are common. Those are the contexts in which gods and other figures that exist. Humans are flawed and tend to stand somewhere in the in between. 

That being stated, Ra and Endeavor are similar in their ties to the sun, underworld and sense of duty that they must defeat the “forces of chaos and evil” for the sake of everyone else. 

High End vs Endeavor 

Endeavor greatest ambition in life was to become the number one hero. He may act like a hero in the public’s eye but he does not have a “heroic nature” or “character.” He failed and broke his own family for the sake of his ambitions, and arguably, the Todoroki family came in to existence to serve a certain purpose. If he could not become the number one, then he’d make sure that someone with his blood and name would achieve that one day. However the unexpected happened. All Might had to retire and Endeavor was given the title as number one hero. He didn’t earn it. He was given it purely because he was the number two hero. 

Let’s revisit the High End fight. This conflict happens shortly after the Hero Billboard Chart event. Japan is uneasy as their symbol of peace has retired and they do not know whether they can rely on the new number one hero. His family also is conflicted with his new position and how it was given to him. Throughout the fight we take a step in to Endeavor’s thoughts and inner monologue.  

The manga panel above is from Chapter 188. 

The High End is incredibly powerful and even with his powerful Hellflame quirk, Endeavor is having a hard time fighting against it. One of the weaknesses with having a fire related quirk is that it overheats his body so he’s had to rely on using his flames properly and cooling down afterwards. Because of this, he thinks about his family. The family that began because of this very weakness. His memory goes back to Rei when she is young, perhaps at the beginning of their arranged marriage or shortly before. Touya, Natsuo and Fuyumi are young as well. Standing far away and unhappy, maybe even nervous. And lastly, Shouto, the child he wanted to continue his legacy in, activating both his ice and hellflame quirks. He is the only one depicted in his actual current age. 

On top of the very next page we get a scene with the High End Nomu speaking as seen below. 

This Nomu came to fight and defeat whoever was the strongest. Despite it’s ability to speak, it is still mindless, declaring on and on about its power and strength. It does not care about who it is fighting and the destruction that is occuring along the way. The High End has multiple quirks that were chosen specifically to make it as powerful as it could be. Perhaps it was in this moment that something clicked in Endeavor’s mind. 

Soon after, the High End strikes Endeavor multiple times, with one strike later leaving him with the scar that runs down the left side of his face. He falls to the ground and in to the rubble. Chapter 188 ends on this page with the manga panel seen below and everyone is left to wonder whether Endeavor is dead or alive. 

In Chapter 189 we see the effects of the void All Might left due to his retirement. 

If the “villains” can’t be kept in check the public becomes chaotic with fear. A quiet night fell over Japan after All Might retired. People felt like the light was taken away. Then Endeavor gets up. With Hawks’ help he rises in to the air with wings on fire.

And in Chapter 190 he defeats the High End Nomu with Prominence Burn. 

Endeavor and the Dawning Sun

There’s a lot of things going on here. Endeavor basically follows the journey Ra takes every single day to complete his duty. Similar to how Ra “dies” as he travels through the underworld, at one point we are led to believe that Endeavor has been killed by. As most of the battle took place up in the air, Endeavor physically falls when he “dies.” Leading up to the fall, he is thinking about his family and the past. 

While Ra and Endeavor “resurrect” at different points in their journey, they both rise back again in order to fulfill their duty to bring back “order and balance.”

I’ve already written about the falcon/hawk headed Egyptian god Horus and Hawks, however I have yet to address the relationship between Ra and Horus. At some point, Ra was combined with Horus and became known as Ra-Horakhty which means “Ra, Horus of the Horizon.” Ra-Horakhty is most often thought of as the god of the rising sun. It is in this form that Ra rises in the sky to bring the dawn when he arises from the underworld. 

The original source of this image is unknown.

There is a deity (seen above) that appears a lot throughout architecture from ancient Egypt called “Horus-Behdity” who is depicted as a winged sun disc:

The winged sun disc is highly symbolic representing the Union of Horus the falcon God, and Ra the sun god, the union of the Two-Lands of Egypt, and becomes a symbol of rebirth for the kings (British Museum).

Although it is Endeavor who ultimately defeats the High End, it is with the aid of Hawks’ quirk that he is able to land the finishing blow. He rises in to the sky like the winged sun disc: Endeavor as the sun, and Hawks as the wings. I think the depiction of Hawks with his back towards he audience and Endeavor burning them with his flames on the cover of Volume 21 says a lot of things (including the Icarus parallels!). 

Taking a couple steps back, the wording on the pages where Endeavor addresses the nomu and then before uses the finishing move Prominence Burn on the High End is important. 

“Modified human... Noumu! Manufactured one. . . Holder of multiple quirks. . . Obesessed with the pursuit of strength!” (Chapter 190)

“You are... Just like me! From the past, or perhaps from an alternate future. Now burn, and rest for all eternity!” (Chapter 190)

Endeavor is a controversial character that because of his past and the horrible things he did to his family. However, we can not ignore what has been written in the manga. I’m not going to argue or talk too much about my own thoughts and opinions here, but I think it is important to address what happened during this High End fight.

He identifies himself with the Nomu: the power hungry and mindless creature. It’s interesting that he uses the phrases of “manufactured” and “holder of multiple quirks,” and “pursuit of strength” which are words that are heavy with meaning to him: the arranged marriage he purchased, the children he neglected and the “perfect” child he sought after for the sake of strength. 

The train of thoughts that had begun in his mind is expressed outwards. He shouts them out in to the sky. He acknowledges the past (however to what extent is debatable), and even addresses the future. I’m not sure if he’s acknowledging that he may fail to change or that he hopes that he can change what he can. 

He then defeats the High End. Endeavor had been given the number on hero position but this victory is what “establishes” him with the title in the eyes of the public. With the bright light of All Might gone, the public is inspired by a new light, the sun that Endeavor represents bringing a dawn to the night. His victory pose is reminiscent of All Might’s however it is with his other arm that is in the air, he’s slumped over and his legs are barely keeping him up. The flames that usually cover his face and body are gone as well. This is the victory of Endeavor the hero but it could also be Todoroki Enji as a father making a statement. 

I’m not sure if this is him symbolically k/illing the monster he was, or if this is symbolic as to where Endeavor’s journey will ultimately head towards, or if its a representation of hopes that never come true later on. I’m not trying to paint this piece from a pro-Endeavor stance or an anti-Endeavor stance but merely trying to explain how I interpreted the events of the High End fight and the thematic meanings it had as it unfolded. At the end of the day, we all have different opinions and interpretations and you have all the right to disagree with everything I’m writing in this post. 

(The case with Endeavor is very complicated and I don’t want to get to deep in to it here however) We definitely should not forget what Endeavor did in the past but at the same time we should not ignore the efforts and progress he has tried to make. While we must hold people accountable for their actions, it is not wrong for someone to want to change or become better. Endeavor may “fail” or he may be able to “succeed,” whatever either entails or looks like. However even though we do get the depiction of a rising sun, you have to remember that the sun also sets. 

Anyways, what has been established was that this fight is where Endeavor explicitly expressed his acknowledgement of the past (maybe not in its entirety but it is a big first step). And it is directly after this step that we take a deep dive in to what facing the past will look like for Endeavor.  

[theblackberrygirl]

Dead Hearts

Summary: The Red Room is destroyed and Natasha has some unresolved goodbyes to say.

Author’s Note: alright I wasn’t super happy with this bc I felt like it was kinda OOC but my beta reader said she rly liked it so here it is!

Warnings: torture, death, death of children, hypothermia, grief. It’s sad alright

This is a song fic and it’s inspired by Dead Hearts by Stars

Tell me everything that happened

Tell me everything you saw

They had lights inside their eyes

They had lights inside their eyes

“JARVIS, show me the article,” Nat asked, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

“Of course, Ms. Romanoff.”

The headline streamed across the TV in her room. Russian training academy, Red Room, has been destroyed and burned by the US government.

Her stomach dropped. No. It can’t be true. The Red Room doesn’t just get destroyed. That’s not possible, it’s not true.

But it was. It was true. The Red Room had been reduced to a pile of burning cinder blocks.

She felt a strange feeling in her heart. She definitely wasn’t nostalgic. The Red Room had kidnapped her from that house fire when she was 4, leaving her parents to die. They tortured her, made her into a killer, messed with her mind and memories.

They made her kill her friends.

When she had escaped when she was 16 and Clint had found her, she never looked back. She ran and ran because running was what she knew, it was all she knew.

But now, she couldn’t run away. No, for once in her life, it was time to run towards something.

“JARVIS, is the quinjet fueled up?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff, but-”

“Get me 29 roses please. I’m leaving in 10 minutes.” JARVIS didn’t answer her, but she knew he was listening.

It was late, around 2 in the morning. Tony would be in his lab. The others would hopefully be asleep. Clint… well, he was a wild card at night. He could be anywhere. But she had known him for years. She knew how to avoid him.

She threw some essentials in a bag before heading towards the quinjet. JARVIS had been listening, because a bundle of blood-red roses laid on the countertop.

She picked them up on her way out to one of the jets. She needed to do this. Not just for herself.

But for them.

-

Did you see the closing window?

Did you hear the slamming door?

They moved forward, and my heart died

They moved forward, and my heart died

-

“Mr. Stark, Ms. Romanoff has just entered the roof.”

“What? Why?” Tony asked, actually pausing his newest project to listen to JARVIS.

“She asked me to make sure one of the quinjets had fuel and to get her roses.”

“That’s helpful,” Tony grumbled. “Is Barton still up?”

“Mr. Barton is currently downstairs in the archery range.”

“Typical. Tell him to come up here, will ya J?”

“Right away, Mr. Stark.”

Tony didn’t go back to his tinkering. He wanted to give Natasha her space, since she’d probably kill him if he didn’t. But at the same time, if this was something important, he didn’t want her to be alone.

“Tony? What’s up?” Clint had arrived in the lab, his bow on his back.

“Hey, do you know if today is anything important for Nat? An anniversary or something?”

“...no? Not that I know of anyways. Why? She alright?”

“I’m not sure, Katniss. JARVIS just told me that she was going up to the jet with roses.”

“Where is she going?”

“The GPS coordinates are set for an area approximately 50 miles West of Vorkuta, Russia.”

“Russia? Why would she be going back to-”

“JARVIS, how many roses did she want?” Clint interjected.

“29, sir.”

“That’s specific,” Tony commented.

Clint didn’t say anything. He wordlessly picked up one of the laptops Tony had laying around and typed something into the search bar.

“Oh no, Tasha… I knew you talked about it doing something, but...”

“What? What is it?”

Clint spun the laptop around for him to see. “The Red Room. It’s gone. And I think I know why she’s going back”

-

Please, please tell me what they looked like

Did they seem afraid of you?

They were kids that I once knew

They were kids that I once knew...

-

Even in a quinjet, the ride from New York to Northern Russia was pretty long, giving her plenty of time to think and contemplate.

She did not want to think. Not about the Red Room, or Madame B, or the other girls, anything.

You owe it to them to remember.

All of her memories before 16 were jumbled. But some things… some things can’t be erased or altered by drugs.

She remembers their names. All of them. All 29.

She had been the youngest girl in her class of Black Widows. Some said that was a weakness. Others said it was an advantage.

But when they brought little Natalia Romanova to that place, still covered in burns and ash, she didn’t care about becoming the Black Widow. She wanted her mother, and father, in their little one-bedroom apartment, with her stuffed rabbit Alexei. It was always cold in that apartment, but when she was snuggled between her mother and father, she felt safe.

She learned quickly that safety was not a feeling in the Red Room. That was something for children, and she was not a child. She was Natalia, made of marble.

On her first night there, when she had silently cried from the pain of cold metal handcuff cutting her wrist, one of the older girls had helped her. She was 8. Her name was Nadia.

Nadia had stolen one of the handcuff keys from the guards. She had unlocked the cuffs and hugged her. Made her a makeshift doll out of an old sock and toilet paper. Told her stories of magic and heros.

In the morning, they found out about what Nadia had done. They punished her until she couldn’t scream anymore. Just before they killed her, she looked at Natalia. “It’s ok”, she whispered. Just before they pulled the trigger.

Magic had not been in that place in a very long time.

After Nadia had been killed, Natalia funneled her grief and fear into her training. She rose to the top, taking down girls who were twice her age and twice her size. She used untraditional methods on the mat, using her legs to take them down since that was where she was strongest.

Her handlers were very impressed with her sudden prowess. She became the best dancer, best fighter, best liar. She picked up the languages quickly. She was as stoic as stone, never flinching or backing down from the threat of a punishment.

They never knew what fueled her excellence. Never knew that she was motivated by rage and grief. For her parents. For Nadia.

When she turned 9 years old, she decided that it was time to repay her debt to Nadia. There was a new girl, the last one for their class. The thirtieth. Sasha.

No one knew what had happened to Sasha. But they did know that she was good. She was unwavering, unmoving. During the day, anyways.

At night, Natalia could hear the girl in the bed next to her trying to muffle her cries. She took out the key that one of the guards had foolishly left in the washrooms. She carefully unlocked her own cuff and Sasha’s.

She rubbed her back silently. Rebraided her French braids that had come undone in the night. Made her a crude doll out of an old sock and toilet paper. Just as Nadia had done for her.

The next morning, Natalia had waited all day for someone to take her to a room to be killed. But they never did. They hadn’t been caught.

Sasha and Natalia continued their routine every night. It was nice to have a friend in a place where friends were a myth.

They were friends for 2 years. They learned to master sneaking around. When Sasha turned 11, someone took her into a room alone. They did this all the time for training, interrogation practice, or just a mental test.

When Sasha didn’t come back that night, she knew something was wrong.

She never saw Sasha again. She didn’t know what happened to her. She still didn’t.

“Landing in 10 minutes,” the jet intercom told her. A wave of anxiety washed over her. She didn’t want to be here. She wanted to turn around, go home, and never come back.

She hated the memories associated with this place. This was the closest she had ever been in the 12 years since Clint saved her. She avoided it like the plague.

The clearing the jet had landed in was still about 2 miles from the old academy. She pulled her coat and hat on and began her march through the barren fields and forest.

Tank tops and shorts. No shoes, she thought to herself. When she was 13, Madame B had given them all black tank tops and shorts. She took away their combat boots and forced them out into the bitter winds.

“Only the strongest will survive this challenge. Only those worthy of the Black Widow title will make it through this. If you are not ready, well, hypothermia isn’t a bad way to go,” she had told them. 2 girls out of the remaining 18 had died that day.

Then they had gone inside to train. The cold made their muscles achey and stiff, but the Red Room was not a place for complaints.

Then they did it all again the next day.

By the end of the week, 7 of the remaining 18 girls were dead, either from exhaustion or the cold. 11 remained from a group that was once 30.

Anastasia. Irina. Svetlana. Alina. Manya. Eva. Kyana.

Their dead hearts were everywhere. The lights inside their eyes extinguished. They’re still out there. And she still cares.

She always will.

-

I could say it, but you won't believe me

You say you do, but you don't deceive me

It's hard to know they're out there

It's hard to know that you still care

-

Pepper, Tony, Clint, Bruce, Thor, Steve, and Fury had all boarded a jet to Russia as soon as Clint told them what had happened. They weren’t going to let her go through this alone.

Natasha Romanoff liked to pretend she didn’t feel things. But they were her family. And family helped each other.

They all sat in silence. Natasha only had an hour on them, but that was still an hour where she was alone and hurting. Even Tony didn’t say anything.

Clint was playing with the spider necklace he always wore. Natasha had a matching one with an arrow. It was a symbol of how deep their friendship went.

Fury was completely still. He had his arms resting on his knees, looking straight ahead. His lips were more downturned than usual, and his forehead was more tense. You could only tell if you had known him for a long time, but Fury was upset. Upset that the woman he looked at as a daughter had to relive this. That she even had to live through it at all.

Clint and Fury were probably getting hit the hardest. They knew the most about what went down in the Red Room. They knew the most about how painful this had to be for their friend.

As the jet lightly set down in the field near the jet that Natasha had taken, they all prepared to walk the 2 miles in the cold weather.

The ground beneath their feet was completely frozen. Permafrost. Snowflakes rushed around their faces. It was painfully beautiful.

The sound of dried grass and leaves under their feet was the only sound on their walk. The wind whistled in their ears. The cold air bit into their exposed skin like needles.

Clint’s breath caught in his throat when he saw her.

She was standing on a pile of rubble with her back to them. Her flaming red hair was flying in the wind. In her arms was the bouquet of roses. Each rose had a note attached, written in Natasha’s small, elegant penmanship.

As Clint looked closer, he saw what the notes were. Names. All of them.

If Nat had realized they were there, she made no move to acknowledge them.

She just stood there. As if she was in shock. To be honest, she might’ve been.

“Sometimes, I swear I can see them,” Natasha spoke. She sounded so… broken. “Everywhere. In the reflection of a window. When I heard a door slam, it was like they were right there like they used to be. Like how they were in here.”

They all stayed quiet. She needed to get this out.

“It’s like they’re following me. Protecting me. I miss them. I miss them all.”

“Inna, Katrina, Larisa, Polina, and Oksana were the first 5 to go.” She held the 5 flowers tightly in her hand, like if she squeezed it tightly enough, she could bring them back. “5, 7, 6, 4, and 8. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” she whispered. Her emotions were coming to the surface, hidden by a thin veil of control.

“Raisa, Sonya, Ulyana, Vanka. I didn’t know any of you. Not personally. But all of you deserved so much better than what you got.”

“Luda, Lubov, and Klara. You were 8 years old. Triplets. Nothing could come between you three. Not the Red Room. Not even death.”

Clint started to move closer towards his best friend. He could see the way she was shaking.

“That week when we stood outside for hours. The cold and exhaustion took 7. Anastasia, Irina, Svetlana, Alina, Manya, Eva, Kyana. I hope that you weren’t in pain when you died. I hope you’re finally resting.”

Only 10 roses were left in her arms, the other 19 laid out on the ground in front of her. The bright red petals contrasted sharply with the grey cinder blocks and white snow.

“Yelizaveta. Liz. We were in actual hell together, and yet you somehow managed to make me smile with your fucked-up sense of humor. In a place like that, dark humor is the only kind you have.” A small smile joined the tears running down her face. “I hope I’ll see you again one day.”

“Taisiya, Sonechka, Nikita, Mischa, Maya, Luda. You were all so smart. And so strong. You fought harder than everyone. Even now, I have yet to meet someone as smart as you six, and 2 of my best friends have more than one PhD,” she laughed.

She was down to the final three roses. Clint put his arm around her. The dam was threatening to break any moment now.

“Nadia.” She let her tears fall for Nadia. “I wouldn’t be alive without you. I wouldn’t have gotten to meet my family. I wouldn’t have gotten to become an aunt without you.” Clint had already been crying, they all had, even Fury, but that had struck him deep in his heart. “I owe you. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she choked out. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling as she gently set the rose down on the ground.

“When I was 14, we had to do torture training.” Pepper let out a small gasp. “After I had finished the whipping and electrocution day, Anya split her bread with me. She cleaned the cuts that I couldn’t reach. In the morning, I-” Her voice began to crack. “They made me be the one to kill her. She was 15.” She set Anya’s rose on the ground next to the others. “You didn’t deserve it, Anya. You were always so good. Better than I ever was.”

“Sasha. Sasha and I were best friends,” she let out a small bittersweet laugh. “When I was with her, I felt like, maybe, we could lead normal lives. Escape. Be happy. One day, when we were 11, they took her away and never brought her back.” She held the rose with Sasha written on it in her hand. “I’m sorry, Sash. I’m so, so sorry. For everything.”

“You forgot one,” Clint whispered. He held out one more red rose. “Natalia Romanova. A little girl orphaned in a fire, who did what she had to do to survive. Who walked through hell and back and still found herself a family and a home.” He set the rose down with the others.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she cried. Clint hugged her tightly as they sank to the ground.

“We were all so young. We were all kids. Just kids,” she sobbed into his shoulder.

Years upon years, over 2 decades worth of grief, sadness, fear, rage, and pain came pouring out. She had been bottling these feelings up for 24 years, shoving them down, and now they were finally being released. Finally being set free.

“They were kids that I once knew. They were kids that I once knew...”

-

Now they’re all dead hearts to you.

They were kids that I once knew

They were kids that I once knew

Now they're all dead hearts to you

Now they're all dead hearts to you

They were kids that I once knew

They were kids that I once knew

Now they're all dead hearts to you...

[lovelyirony]

Through flames and oceans (for the fic title)

u know. this was supposed to not go the direction it did. but it did. 

People say they will do a lot for love. They will walk through flames, cross an entire ocean for love.

Bruce tells himself that that’s the stupidest fucking thing people say. He, for one, will not do that. There is also the unspoken reason of that love really isn’t in the cards for him.

Currently, he’s running away from his ex-girlfriend’s dad, General Ross, because he may or may not have done some experimentation and turned into a rage monster, but also revealed some state secrets.

Come on, can you blame him? Cosmo said twenty-year-olds need to accomplish something before they hit thirty. And he’s quite sure he just made the list.

But as for love, he is thinking about it right now because his ex-girlfriend found a very nice girl named Valkyrie, and they’re kind of set to have an engagement party, and “would you please come to the United States to help us celebrate?”

Betty is a wonderful woman, really and truly. And Bruce is okay with how their relationship ended, because it’s not like Bruce could come to family dinner and expect anything besides murder or maybe cold potatoes. And Betty deserved someone far better than him, and from the picture that was sent, it looks like Valkyrie is an amazing catch.

But there is the small matter of making it to the States without getting caught. He is on quite a lot of “no-fly” and “travel restrictive” protocols. This sucks, by the way. He had frequent flier miles saved up and everything.

It sucks, at least, until he remembers Tony’s number and calls it.

(Tony had given him his number, but sometimes he forgets that four and nine are two distinctly different numbers.)

“Brucie, baby! What can I get for you? Don’t worry, the government hasn’t been able to tap my phone calls since I was seventeen and mostly joking about finding out where their secret weapons storage is.”

“Betty’s having her engagement party, and I’m invited. I kind of need a ride home.”

“Where are you located at, right now?”

“Buenos Aires.”

“You lucky son of a bitch, god I miss it there. You having a good time?”

“When I’m avoiding government agents, yes.”

“Hm, well i’m sending a new employee of mine to go and get you. Big guy, probably Swedish.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t presume if someone’s Swedish or not, Bruce. I’m a terrible person, but not that terrible.”

“I...I don’t follow your sense of humor.”

“No one does, that’s why celebrities call me avant garde and ahead of my time.”

“Good to know. What’s your new guy’s name?”

“Thor.”

“Are you...are you fucking with me?”

"Darling, you’d be having a much better time if I was.”

“I don’t like the energy we’re manifesting here,” Bruce deadpans.

Tony snorts. “Okay, hippie. He’ll be there by tomorrow morning. Just stay tight where you are, sugar.”

-

Thor is a gigantic man. He parts crowds like it’s what he was meant to do, and maybe it is. Bruce stares up at him.

“Hello Dr. Banner,” Thor says, smiling gently. “You are Dr. Ross’s friend, right?”

“Um...yeah. I am.”

“Excellent. I’m a friend of Valkyrie’s, is it okay if I go ahead and fly out to the airport nearest their house?”

“Uh, is Tony okay with that?”

“Of course. And we can stop at your house if you need anything.”

“Oh, I don’t have a house. Or an apartment. You would not believe how much the US government hates my credit score.”

Thor chuckles a little bit, leading him back to a nondescript car.

“Right this way.”

-

Thor is cool as a cucumber on the outside, as they’re driving. He’s mindlessly tapping on his phone as Bruce stares out the window.

Inside? Oh, Thor hates Val for this. So much.

so, you didn’t think to send me a picture of dr. banner? just the address?

lmaooooo called it. betty owes me something now. fuckin nerd. just ask him out.

no. we still have to bypass american security

which you are “old hat” at. or did i forget that you nearly almost charmed the pants off of one of the airline people?

we don’t speak of that.

relax. stark’s taking care of it anyway.

The airplane ride home is uneventful, thank god. One of Tony’s jets awaits, and the pilot is very surprised to see a man who ranks number four on America’s Most Wanted List to be there.

“You...you know Tony?”

“And you know what an NDA is,” Tony announces over the intercom. “Bruce, welcome. Mimosas are premade, in stock. Sit back and enjoy the ride! Thor, you do what you gotta do to make sure Bruce stays safe. Enjoy the bridal shower!”

The pilot is a bit apprehensive. But mostly okay. Bruce promises nothing’s going to happen, he’s just going to drink tea and catch up on news about the current state of things.

Bruce gets bored with finding out that things are still terrible, so he talks to Thor.

“So...are your parents just really into Norse mythology, or did they know you’d come out a huge guy who has the potential to probably stop Ragnarok?”

Thor chuckles, the laugh rumbling and deep.

(Okay, that’s hot.)

"My parents’ names were Odin and Frigga. You could say they were traditionalists when it came to my brother and I.”

“You mean...?”

“He embodies the name a bit too well for my taste, but yes.”

“Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah. Let me tell you about the time we accidentally crashed a fashion week thing...” 

Bruce laughs a lot about that story. Thor’s laugh is majestic, and they sit a little bit closer. 

-

By the time the plane lands, they’re great friends and Thor reaches over Bruce in the baggage area and wow that man has very defined muscles. 

Not that that’s important. No, that’s like. Not important at all. So what if Thor is very well-muscled and maybe this will play into Bruce��s intrusive thoughts/daydream thoughts at later intervals? Does not matter. At all. 

(Oh god the man smells like salty ocean air Bruce has got it so so bad. So Bad.) 

- 

Tony greets them at the landing pad with a wide grin, eyes lighting up. 

“Well, don’t you two make the happy couple,” he teases. Bruce turns red. This does not go unnoticed. 

“Bruce, honestly, you run away from government and my friendship, and this is what gets you--” 

“A bridal shower? To get me home? Yes,” Bruce says, cutting in not-at-all smoothly. “Now, where are Betty and her bride staying at?” 

“Oh, they’re staying at the cutest little bed and breakfast for their bridal shower. Rented out the whole thing--well Pepper did, it was our wedding gift to them, and of course I mean Pep’s wedding gift, because I have something else planned-” 

“Please tell me that you do not have a house bought for them,” Thor says. 

“Complete with a laboratory and gymnasium,” Tony says with a wink. “I’m kidding, they already have a house. I just kind of kicked them out for a week while I remodel their entire kitchen. Val gave me the colors, I was surprised that she has taste.” 

“If she hears you say that, she’ll kick your ass.” 

“Which is why she won’t,” Tony reminds Thor. “Now, let’s get to unpacking. Bruce, I’m getting you some good shampoo, holy shit your hair sucks.” 

“Thank you Tony, I love and value our friendship and our kindness towards each other as well,” Bruce deadpans. 

“Oh come on, you have to look good. It’s your ex’s wedding party!” 

“You make us sound so dramatic,” Bruce says with a snort. “We broke up. Big deal.” 

“You and Betty...?” Thor asks. 

“Yeah, but it’s fine. We were dating, and then I pissed off her dad, who happens to be a general. I mean, also the government. But mostly her dad.” 

“Wow.” 

Thor’s type shouldn’t be feral scientist. But it is. 

They’re led inside, and Tony bids them goodbye. 

“Duty calls,” Tony says airily, waving. “Make yourself at home, don’t put coffee grounds down the disposal or I will kick you out. Rogers is still nursing his wounds.” 

“Noted,” Bruce says. 

“I drink tea,” Thor answers. 

Bruce shares a look. 

“You too?” 

“Yeah, I prefer it over coffee most of the time.” 

Bruce smiles. 

“I think we’re going to get along.” 

- 

They have a couple of days until the wedding party, and Thor has never seen New York. Bruce is fairly sure that no one will even see him on the CCTV footage as long as he’s walking next to Thor, so he deems it good enough to go and get a bagel. 

Thor is a very gentle man. That’s a good quality. 

He smiles at a little girl, who is staring, open-mouthed. Even gives her a little wave. Bruce grins. 

“You like kids?” 

“I do. They mostly just want to have fun, want to see what the best of the world is. I think we all need that occasionally.” 

“I’ve never thought of that,” Bruce confesses. He takes a sip of his coffee.

“I love watching my cousins,” Thor continues. “The way they grow and figure it all out, it’s rewarding. What about your family?” 

Bruce freezes. 

“Um. I don’t exactly have a family.” 

“Then you’ll just have to meet some of my cousins,” Thor amends, smiling as he sips his drink. “You’d like them.” 

“I’d like that,” Bruce says, grinning. “What’s next on our New York agenda?” 

"I told Loki I’d visit some stores for him and pick up some items he’s been wanting.” 

-

Have you ever seen a sales associate from Chanel be terrified at your presence? No? It’s worth it. 

Bruce is kind of concerned. 

“I...are you...?” 

“My name is Robert, uncanny similarities,” Bruce responds. “We both were born in Ohio.” 

“Why is it always Ohio,” Thor mutters. “You reckon my brother would want this shoe or that?” 

“Ooh, definitely go with the heel. I think that’s good.”  

“Gotcha.” 

Next shop is Dior. 

This goes a bit out of hand. His whole line about being Robert with Incredible Similarity does not go as planned. 

He and Thor are on a subway, currently running away from some authority figures and calling Tony. 

“I was in the middle of learning drama about high society that I can use in my next romance novel, are you joking?” Tony hisses. 

“You write romance novels?” Thor asks. 

“Now is not the time to question that, I’m in the middle of making sure you get a car to your next stop. How well do you both know what a Chrysler is?” 

“The building, right?” 

“God, I hate you so much,” Tony groans. “No, um...it looks like the wing things that they give army people when they do something that I guess they think is cool.” 

“Oh. Okay. Get in that car?” 

“Yes. It’s gonna be red with silver detailing.”

“Tony, they’re gonna know it’s us.” 

“Believe me, they won’t. Trust me.” 

- 

So as it turns out, it’s not the most ostentatious vehicle. 

Because Tony pulls up in a lifted pick-up truck, painted a sparkling, neon green with bright orange wheels. 

It is the ugliest goddamn thing Bruce has ever seen. Also the most effective. 

Thor nearly shoves Bruce into the car, and they’re sitting too close, and Bruce probably shouldn’t be focusing on the fact that Thor’s hair is now artfully messy, but here he is. Doing that. 

“So, sorry that before the wedding shower we’re being hunted down by the government.” 

“Not the worst thing that I could be doing on a Friday,” Thor says with a shrug. “I think you’re just about the most interesting person I’ve met, Bruce.” 

He smiles at him. Bruce’s heart skips a beat. He can’t tell if it’s because of the eye contact or the fact that they’re in close proximity. Maybe both. 

“You wanna go on a date after all this?” Bruce blurts out. 

He does. And as soon as he says it, he kind of regrets it because they’re in a car with glittery silver interior seats and he’s also in pants that have seen better days, and his hair is a Mess. 

(Also self-esteem issues, but Bruce is used to that so he’s not counting it.) 

“Like, after we get home or when the government gives up on finding you?” 

“I don’t know. Whichever one comes first?” 

“Technically, I think I count as army jurisdiction, and military budget is a fountain of money.” 

“Ah. Then home it is. How do you feel about ordering in?” 

“Mm, sounds good,” Bruce says, grinning. “You’re the best.” 

“Well, I certainly try,” Thor says, grinning right back. “You wanna go to Betty and Val’s shower together?” 

“Yes. Do we have to amend our ‘how-we-met’ story?” 

“Not at all. Valkyrie used to run an underground fight ring. She knows the feeling.” 

“How has that not come up in conversation?” 

“We were kind of preoccupied trying to figure out what a Chrysler car looked like.” 

“Oh, true.” 

- 

At the wedding party, Bruce and Thor are very happy. Betty and Val roll their eyes and laugh as they talk. 

“Leave it to my dad to ruin everything,” Betty gripes. 

“Well he didn’t ruin this party or my meeting Thor,” Bruce defends. “Besides, you know what happens if he steps a foot near you.” 

Betty grins. 

“You serious?” 

“Can’t promise you’ll get your security deposit back, but yes.” 

Betty pulls him into a hug. 

“You’re too sweet to me.” 

“Yeah, tell me that after he steps on the limousine.” 

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry,” Thor says, grinning. “I think Tony has some sort of security feature worked in.” 

“Oh, he does,” Val says. “He’s threatened to pull some of the contracts for safety gear. Won’t go through with it, but Ross can’t touch the wedding. Best gift ever.” 

- 

When the party gets late, Thor and Bruce are sitting out on the porch. Clean-up is happening, and they’re taking a break. Thor thinks that Bruce has never looked more beautiful in a rumpled yellow shirt, soft lights making his face glow. 

“I’m glad I met you,” Thor murmurs, moving a stray curl. 

“Really?” Bruce asks, smiling softly. “I think I’m glad I met you too.” 

- 

Bruce grins behind his door when they make it home. Thor had kissed him on the cheek, and while that wasn’t too big of a deal, it was a big deal to him. 

“See you in the morning, dear,” Thor had told him. 

He was going to be up half the night with that line running through his head. 

- 

A lot of people do a lot of things for love. Bruce still wouldn’t walk through flames, or swim across an entire ocean, but he’s starting to understand. 

[fantasticstoryteller]

New Dynasty Chapter 10

“You brought him here?” shrieked a voice, stabbing through Peter’s temples. “You idiot!”

“Look,” said a defensive voice, “We need a clean sample.”

“We won’t be needing anything if we’re shut down,” snarled the first voice.

Peter opened his eyes and saw a woman in a lab coat glaring at a man wearing body armor. Good body armor too, a muzzy part of his brain noticed. Sleek and almost form fitting, like that new stuff Tony was making. A quick try to get up proved his suspicions: he was strapped down. It looked like he was strapped down to a gurney of some kind.

“So, uh, anyone want to fill me in on what’s going on?” he asked dryly, not expecting an answer.

The female sighed, brought a hand to her head, and muttered, “Idiots, every last one of you. Mr. Parker,” she said firmly.

Peter’s skin crawled. He could tell that he was still wearing his suit, so there should have been no way for her to know who he was. “Parker?” he asked, trying to sound quizzical.

She made an irritated sound. “Please don’t pretend with us. We know very well what your other identity is and we are no threat to you.” She emphasized the words as her left hand clutched her white coat.

“You’ll have to forgive me for finding that hard to believe,” Peter drawled. “Since, you know.” He tried to move an arm that was strapped down. He wasn’t sure what he was strapped down with, since he could break almost anything.

“I’m sorry my coworker is a moron.”

“Hey!”

“I asked him to get a fresh blood sample for our program, and he took that to mean that we needed to kidnap you.”

“And, uh, how was he supposed to get the blood?” asked Peter warily.

“Please, you heroes bleed all over the city. It’s not that hard. They were supposed to be watching,” she added with a glare at the man in the armor, “for you to get into an altercation that ended up spilling blood.”

“We need the sample now,” muttered the man.

“We don’t need to compromise the facility!” the woman snarled back at him. She took a deep breath, looked at Peter, and gentled her voice. “Since they brought you here anyway, I’m just going to ask. Mr. Parker, may we take a small sample of your blood?”

“Am I really in a position to refuse?” asked Peter warily.

“Absolutely,” the woman said firmly. “We would never dream of pricking you with a needle without your consent, Mr. Parker.”

“Don’t want to piss of that damn mad man,” muttered the guy in body armor.

Suddenly Peter understood. The reason the woman was being so polite was not because she cared about Peter as a person, but because they were terrified of Wade. No wonder he always felt safer at Wade’s place—it was probably the only place these people wouldn't go.

“So, out of curiosity,” Peter asked, “if I say ‘no’, what happens?”

“We knock you out however he knocked you out in the first place, remove the transmitter inhibitor on your chest, and drop you off as close to Stark Tower as we believe is safe.” Peter looked at his chest and saw an odd black lump stuck there. “We have no intention,” the woman continued, “of antagonizing either you or any of your—associates.”

A ripple along his skin warned him a second before the wall to his right exploded and Deadpool strode in, the eyes on his suit narrowed and calmly tossing a grenade from hand to hand. “Lucy,” he called. “You got some ‘splainin’ to do!”

“Oh, shit!” swore the guy in the body armor. He swallowed hard. “How—how did you find this place?”

“Behold the powers of the author space!” roared Deadpool as he rushed forwards pulling one of his katanas. At the last minute, instead of decapitating the man, Deadpool slammed the flat of the blade against his head, knocking him down.

Pity that body armor hadn’t included a helmet, Peter thought absently as the man dropped like a load of bricks.

“Mr. Deadpool,” the woman in the lab coat said warily as she backed away from him, both hands in the air, “we have done nothing to harm him.” Apparently, while she was well aware of who Peter was, Deadpool was still a mystery to them—and one they didn’t want to try to solve.

“You kidnapped him!” snarled Deadpool.

“That was a miscommunication,” the woman said as she continued to back away. “We have done nothing except talk to him, Mr. Deadpool.” It was clear, from the look on her face, that she was terrified.

Peter was having a little trouble caring, at the moment. “Hey, DP,” he called distracting the mercenary. “Can you give me a little help over here?” he raised what he could of his hands to wave them.

Deadpool whirled to face Peter, on the gurney. The eyes roamed over him taking in the undamaged suit, the odd black box on his chest, and the straps holding him in. Deadpool sheathed his katana. “Sure thing, Buddy,” he said cheerfully. “No,” he added to himself as he trotted over to Peter, “I don’t think he’d like to recreate this in the bedroom.”

“Hey White,” said Peter, recognizing the response.

“Hey Spiderman,” said Deadpool calmly. He reached under the gurney, twisted something—and the straps fell off. He put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You okay?” he asked.

“A little woozy, but fine.” Peter heard the woman running and, irritated with her, webbed her to the floor watching her fall hard to the cement. His head flipped around at the sound of jet engines.

Deadpool somehow managed to make his mask roll its eyes. “Look who finally decided to show up,” he growled.

Peter raised a hand to shush him. He heard—something. What was that odd sound? It was familiar, somehow…

He carefully made his way through the place. It looked (aside from the wall Deadpool blew up) like nothing more than lobby, or maybe the public entrance of a warehouse. The floor was cement, it wasn’t that big, and there were two chairs on either side of a door.

He flipped open the door (wincing as he accidentally ripped it off its hinges) and stared. On the other side of the door was a room that looked suspiciously like an elevator, all stainless steel with tracks for the doors to shut. That’s not what grabbed his attention though. What got his attention was the little girl inside it. She was small, barely three feet tall, and had long, fluffy light brown hair. She was wearing what looked like a large dingy white nightshirt.

When he opened the door she flung herself into one of the corners and covered herself with lightly scarred arms. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’msorryI’msorry!” she shrieked, as she trembled like a leaf. As Peter stood there, she began to quietly cry.

“No, hey,” Peter said as he crouched to her level. She flinched, but he kept his voice as calm and soothing as possible. “It’s okay,” he told her. “You don’t have to be afraid.” She peeked at him with large, amber eyes, but kept her arms up, still shaking. “I’m Spiderman,” he said, to introduce himself.

“What? How dare you insinuate I’m anything less than sane?” ranted the man behind him.

“And that’s Deadpool. He’s a little—odd, but he’s a good guy too,” added Peter. Deadpool leaned on Peter’s frame and from the corner of his eye he could tell the mercenary was waving at the girl. Oddly enough, this made the girl relax a bit, and the arms came down as she watched them warily. “I just want you to know that you’re safe now,” he told her.

The girl’s eyes widened and, in a move almost too quick to be believed, reached forwards and grabbed Peter’s costumed hand with a tight, almost bone-crushing grip. “Can you save the others too?” she asked. “Make them safe?”

[conncrfms]

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐫𝐤’𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭 , 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐁 𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐈  ! 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐬 @𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐦𝐳 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐚�� 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 . 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐦𝐳 , 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐡 . 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐲𝐜 , 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 . 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐬 . ( 𝐜𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 + 𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐢𝐦 ) + ( 𝐦𝐲𝐚 , 𝟏𝟗 , 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 , 𝐩𝐬𝐭 ) 

hi lovelies! allow me to introduce myself! my name is mya, you can reach me on discord for plots at ˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐲𝐚 ˎˊ˗#8406 and i have never had a single cohesive thought in my life! now that that’s out of the way let me introduce you to my demon child connor! i spent literal hours on his intro and it’s still not good but that’s besides the point but for your best viewing experience you may wanna see it through his blog for the ~aesthetics~ anyways on with the intro!

triggers will be tagged and marked accordingly as they come up but here’s what to look out for: cheating tw, death tw, cancer tw, and alcohol tw

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄

bellamy connor livingston

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

bells

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘

october 26th, 1997

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

6″0′

𝐀𝐆𝐄

23 years old

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑

male

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒

he/him

𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

ceo of premier event manangement / event planner

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒

english

𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

bisexual

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌

alex fitzalan

here is his childhood home, family vacation home, and his current home

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

bellamy connor livingston was born in MANHATTAN NEW YORK on an unusually cold october day 

his father was voted as the SENATOR of new york and his mother was a LUXURY REAL ESTATE AGENT who sold a majority of the penthouses on the upper east side, it wasn’t easy living in new york and NOT knowing who the livingston’s were, whether you saw their names on billboards on heard it in passing on television you knew who they were

but the livingston LEGACY precedes connor’s successful parents and goes way back to his ancestors who made their fortune, specifically one of his GREAT grandfathers who was granted 160,000 acres along the Hudson and was an OFFICIAL FUR TRADER AND BUSINESSMAN who earned the family a whopping $35 BILLION DOLLARS and the wealth continues to grow RICH  KEEP GETTING RICHER

in short connor is a total TRUST FUND BABY.

while a family like this is usually drowning with TURMOIL the livingston’s lived a fairly scandal free life, even when you did MASSIVE DIGGING, no signs of infedlity, their four kids got along great, and they were BIG on philanthropy and giving to charity 

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐖 

this is until you stepped behind CLOSED DOORS which is were the livingston’s liked their SKELETONS to remain, connor’s dad, was a SERIAL CHEATER and the only reason no one ever spoke up is the livingston family INFLUENCE no one dared to cross them 

𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐖

despite growing up in such a TOXIC ENVIROMENT connor was actually a really good kid, his grades were nothing to write home about, and he was definitely a CLASS CLOWN but he did what he was supposed to, and stayed out of trouble for the MOST PART

he was the ELDEST of four children so he felt the need to be a good influence on what would prove to be a BUMPY ROAD for the family 

connor’s high school experience was not what you would expect from someone of his  CALIBER, well at least not ALL of it 

for starters he had the tendency to be a bit ARROGANT due to who his parents were and because he knew the scope of their influence, and he used this to his advantage, he was definitively a “DO YOU KNOW  WHO MY FATHER IS?” ass bitch, partly due to the fact people had always treated him differently and thus it went straight to his already empty head

and he PARTIED a lot, whether it was throwing parties in a penthouse his mother rented SPECIFICALLY for him, attending LAVISH parties, or jetting off to THE HAMPTON’S   “for lunch”, school became a DISTANT PRIORITY

so distant in fact his parents ended up hiring a TUTOR to help him with his studies, and you wouldn’t believe me when i say connor FELL and he fell HARD

so hard in fact i’d say he CRASHED, two planets colliding into each other that was although a CATASTROPHE was ENCHANTING to see, but i’m getting ahead of myself

BEATRICE or BEA as connor and nearly everyone else called her, was connor’s opposite in almost EVERY WAY, she was a straight a student, and connor could hold a c average if he made the effort to CHEAT, she went to their private school on a SCHOLARSHIP, his parents had enough money to buy the ENTIRE SCHOOL, but they were IN LOVE

and i mean the kind of love you see in ROMCOMS the kind of SICKENINGLY SWEET love that others will tell you is IMPOSSIBLE, but they made it work, bea made connor more serious but his studies, and he in turn fell COMPLETELY and EFFORTLESSLY in love. see BEA was already WHOLE so think of this story less of two halves COMPLETING each other, and more so two wholes COMPLEMENTING each other 

they continued to date throughout the rest of high school, and BEA became apart of his family, his mother referred to BEA as her DAUGHTER IN LAW, it was cemented in everyone’s minds that one day the two of them would be MARRIED

oddly enough connor NEVER met BEA’S parents no matter how much he BEGGED and PLEADED, all it took was BEA telling him her family life was something she was UNCOMFORTABLE with and he dropped the subject COMPLETELY 

due to BEA’S influence, connor applied to university, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, to be exact and got ACCEPTED into the school of BUSINESS, of course BEA also applied an got ACCEPTED into the school of SOCIAL SCIENCES

connor didn’t HESITATE to PROPOSE to BEA and to no one’s surprise she immediately said YES and the plan was to get married IMMEDIATELY and so the date was set for JULY 17TH 2017, the theme to be WINTER WONDERLAND, it was BEA’S idea a winter wedding in summer, and seeing the way it made her absolutely BEAM it was worth it

the MONTH of the wedding was a tense one, GRADUATION, PREPARING FOR COLLEGE, and a WEDDING

however TRAGEDY would strike, BEA was LATE to the WEDDING and anyone who knew BEA knew that she wasn’t LATE to anything, that’s when connor got a call that would change his life FOREVER

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖

remember how i told you BEA never wanted connor to meet her parents? that’s because BEA was sick, CANCER to be exact, and didn’t want connor to find out. her parents tried to rationalize that she didn’t want to seem him HURT, and that she told them EVERYTHING about him, she DIED with connor right by her side, and what was supposed to be the HAPPIEST moment of his life became the SADDEST

𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖                 

that was THREE YEARS AGO and to this day he hasn’t recovered since

𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐇𝐎𝐋 𝐓𝐖

since then he has gotten two new vices DRINKING and HOOKING UP, it’s not unusual to see him at a bar drinking his FIFTH or TENTH shot of vodka and taking home his SECOND or TENTH girl of the night

𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐇𝐎𝐋 𝐓𝐖      

he has been CLOSED OFF to the idea of love ever since, and hasn’t held a STABLE relationship since then, he simply can’t see himself COMMITTING to anyone as he did with BEA

in LIGHTER news, he graduated from COLUMBIA with his associate’s in BUSINESS and is now a ceo of his own EVENT PLANNNG company, which has been extremely successful in putting on TOURS, CHARITY BANQUETS, CONVENTIONS, CONCERTS, and the like, they specialize in everything except WEDDINGS

and his father 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍 has started his presidential campaign, that connor has somehow managed to rope himself into

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓

he fights in an underground fighting ring.

it started innocently enough, after BEA passed away he wanted an outlet something where he didn’t have to think about the GUILT and could let out his ANGER, really he wanted something to distract from the SADNESS 

BOXING seemed like a good idea until he couldn’t harness the anger and nearly KILLED his opponent 

that’s when things fell into place, his “ FRIEND ” who witnessed the fight first hand told him about this fighting ring that him and a couple of other people were involved in and connor decided WHY THE HELL NOT, he felt as he had NOTHING else to LOSE

and thus began the cycle of showing up to work in shade to hide BLACK EYES and surprisingly enough BRUISES are easy to hide behind three piece suits

and now current day it’s become THERAPY for him, since a lot of the guys are just like him, looking to ESCAPE from something in their PAST

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂 

scorpio sun, scorpio rising, virgo moon

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 

chaotic good

𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈 

estp-a

𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌 

type 7w8

𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 

choleric

𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 

slytherin

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒 

in order: physical touch, quality time, receiving gifts, acts of service, and words of affirmation

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒 

adaptable, adventurous, affable, affectionate, ambitious, amusing, attentive, brave, bright, calm, caring, charismatic, charming, committed, courageous, creative, decisive, dependable, determined, diligent, determined, direct, driven, easy-going, efficient, engaging, enthusiastic, extroverted, flirtatious, forthright, frank, fun-loving, funny, gregarious, intelligent, knowledgeable, lively, logical, loyal, mischievous, neat, objective, observant, open-minded, organized, outgoing, passionate, persistent, playful, practical, pragmatic, protective, quick-witted, rational, realistic, reliable, responsible, romantic, self-confident, sociable, strong-willed, and trustworthy

𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒 

abrasive, aggressive, aloof, analytical, argumentative, arrogant, assertive, avoidant, belligerent, blunt, bossy, calculating, callous, cautious, competitive, condescending, confrontational, critical, cynical, deceitful, defiant, destructive, detached, discreet, dishonest, dramatic, evasive, explosive, foolhardy, grumpy, guarded, harsh, headstrong, impatient, impulsive, insensitive, intimidating, irrational, judgmental, melancholic, narcissistic, negative, opinionated, outspoken, perfectionist, pretentious, private, quick-tempered, rebellious, reckless, rude, secretive, stubborn, temperamental, thoughtless, unemotional, vain, and violent

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎

i’d like to say he’s a weird amalgamation of characters i liked in media i’ve consumed, and although he relates more to some characters than others this is an incomplete list of my influences

p.s. you can click on the names of a character to see a gifset of them that reminds me of connor <3 

𝑺𝑪𝑶𝑻𝑻 𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑮 ( 𝐀𝐍𝐓-𝐌𝐀𝐍 ) , 𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑶𝑷 ( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 ) , 𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑩𝒀 ( 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 ) , 𝑫𝑨𝑴𝑶𝑵 𝑺𝑨𝑳𝑽𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑬 ( 𝐓𝐕𝐃 ) , 𝑹𝒀𝑨𝑵 𝑯𝑶𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑫  ( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 ) , 𝑱𝑶𝑯𝑵𝑵𝒀 𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑽𝑶 ( 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐎 ) , 𝑫𝑼𝑵𝑪𝑨𝑵 ( 𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐀 𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 ) , 𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑿 𝑹𝑼𝑺𝑺𝑶 ( 𝐖𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 ) , 𝑪𝑯𝑼𝑪𝑲 𝑩𝑨𝑺𝑺 ( 𝐆𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐏 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ) , 𝑪𝑨𝑺𝑬𝒀 𝑮𝑨𝑹𝑫𝑵𝑬𝑹 ( 𝐀𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 ) , 𝑳𝑼𝑲𝑬 𝑫𝑼𝑵𝑷𝑯𝒀 ( 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 ) , 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑲 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑮𝑨𝑵 ( 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒 )

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑪

𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.

𝑬𝑿𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑵 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑴𝑺. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.

𝑬𝑿𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑵 𝑩𝑨𝑫 𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑴𝑺. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.

𝑭𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑻𝑶 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.

𝑭𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑩𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑭𝑰𝑻𝑺. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄.   

𝑺𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑵𝒀 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.

𝑺𝑳𝑶𝑾 𝑩𝑼𝑹𝑵. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.

𝑷𝑹 𝑹𝑬𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.   

𝑻𝑶𝑿𝑰𝑪 𝑹𝑬𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.   

𝑼𝑵𝑹𝑬𝑸𝑼𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.

𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑰𝑪

𝑺𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑫. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.

𝑹𝑶𝑶𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑺. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.      

𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑰𝑵𝑭𝑳𝑼𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.   

𝑩𝑨𝑫 𝑰𝑵𝑭𝑳𝑼𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.

𝑩𝑬𝑺𝑻 𝑭𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑫. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.

𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑳𝑫𝑯𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑭𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑫. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑. 

𝑵𝑬𝑮𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑬

𝑭𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑫 𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑴𝑰𝑬𝑺. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.

𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑴𝑰𝑬𝑺. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.

𝑭𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑴𝑰𝑬𝑺. 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐓𝐖𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.

if any of these interest you feel free to message me! i have ideas for all of them that i’m always ready to share! also feel free to mix and match any of the plots above a good influence who has an unrequited crush but is also his roommate? sounds like content to me, a friend with benefits turned best friend turned exes on bad terms we love to see it! and if none of these seem interesting to you fill free to check out connor’s wanted connections page!

[homeformyheart]

until now - m!raleigh carrera x mc (plat)

author’s note: trying my hand at a shorter piece and for platinum – there will probably be at least one follow-up to this but both will stay as one-shots.

copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. songs and lyrics owned by their respective creators. series/pairing: platinum – raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian); mentions of jessica clark (red carpet diaries mc) rating/warnings: 13+; swearing, infidelity, angst word count: 1.7k based on/prompt: “should’ve said no” by taylor swift summary: raleigh gets too drunk and too close to a fan and the only real relationship he’s ever had falls apart.

until now

cadence could recall exactly where she was the moment r&b’s timebomb blew up the internet. she couldn’t recall with detail how she felt or how she reacted in that immediate moment but she could describe the exact shade of brown from her morning latte that stained the open page of her notebook because she stared at it for a solid five minutes after the headlines broke. she was working on a new single for her upcoming album that needed an angsty, heartbreak vibe to balance the upbeat, love-focused songs she had already written. she had a few lines written (it’s strange to think the songs we used to sing / the smiles, the flowers, everything) but had been struggling with motivation to come up with anything more – after all, she hadn’t been heartbroken in a while.

she was happy in her relationship with raleigh and where she was in her career. her first world tour had been a huge success, with raleigh joining her on tour as often as he could. after her tour was over, he insisted he didn’t want to wake up in his apartment without her and it didn’t take long before cadence moved into his penthouse. a few months later, she was able to join raleigh for the beginning of his transformation world tour, his first album since deciding he could embrace the things he enjoyed from his sunset skatepark days, making it his most personal project to date. of course, whenever the music and obligations to the studio called her back to new york, they facetimed as much as they could.

dating cadence had given raleigh some of the “good boyfriend” brownie points with the public related to loyalty and affection. it helped that cadence defended him against unfair accusations and doubled down on how well he treated her to the media and their fans. and no matter what part of his reputation was theme-of-the-week over at the tabloids – shameless flirt, heartbreaker, wild card, adrenaline junkie, to name the popular ones – raleigh never gave anyone a reason to label him as a cheater and more importantly, never gave cadence any reason not to trust him. even in his fake relationships, raleigh made sure that that part of his reputation was sterling. until now.

her phone had buzzed non-stop when the news broke – to the point where she thought she was getting phone calls that sounded like a ticking time bomb but they were mostly texts and social media notifications. the headlines filled her feed one after another – “raleigh carerra cheats on cadence dorian!” “did ralence break-up?” “was cadence too boring for raleigh?” “cadence drives raleigh into arms of another woman!” – along with hundreds of theories painted by devastated and thirsty fans alike who picked apart every public appearance, interaction, social media post, and song lyric associated with the two of them for the past six months as if they could find incriminating clues and signs of a slowly fizzling relationship like amateur sleuths. cadence had to give them props – it’s not like she wouldn’t eventually do the same once she was ready to process the relationship; in some ways, the fans gave her a head start.

how was she supposed to react to this right now? the photos and videos definitely highlighted that sabrina simmons, who cadence vaguely recognized as a media-hungry and wannabe actress from one of raleigh’s older music videos, cozying up to and grinding on raleigh at a club in london, presumably the afterparty for the closing night of his tour. cadence could also point out every tell-tale sign that raleigh was drunk out of his mind; he was relishing in the attention from sabrina and being inappropriately handsy for someone in a well-known, committed relationship. what most people didn’t know, was that cadence could forgive that – raleigh was normally flirty and handsy and alcohol always exacerbated it. what she didn’t think she could forgive was the next thing she saw – or rather heard.

if cadence felt like she was close to either having a raging smash-everything-breakable-in-raleigh’s-apartment spree or an emotional-because-her-heart-was-actually-breaking meltdown, the audio clip that hit her inbox pushed her to the teetering edge of both. the recording was barely 15 seconds long but it was damning. given the circumstances, it was probably planted or planned by sabrina who wanted to catapult herself into internet fame by taking advantage of raleigh’s reputation. her voice could be heard asking him if he wanted to come back to her hotel room. the question didn’t matter to cadence though, because raleigh’s response – “fuck yes” – was clear as day and cadence knew it would haunt her for months to come.

[jessica: just saw the videos – u ok? i’m heading home to iowa for a break from work, come stay with me, no one will find you there]

cadence quickly typed out a text reply, grateful for the close friendship she had with jessica clarke, the actress-turned-director who directed the music video for her last single. there was only one call she needed to make. if anyone was already putting things in motion, it was fiona. right on cue, she picked up and before cadence could say two words, said, “i’m so sorry cadence. i’ve already got movers on the other line and hank’s on his way.”

“thanks fiona. i’m going to stay with jessica in iowa and lay low for a bit. raleigh is not allowed to find out where i am; i will get a new phone if i need to,” cadence said, calmly starting to pull out and sort her things from raleigh’s closet so the movers would know exactly what to pack while she ironed out a few more details with fiona.

raleigh was still way too drunk when his manager barged into his hotel room and forced him into the shower. he was very drunk when his security team had to half-drag him all the way to where the private jet was waiting at the airport. he was mostly drunk throughout the eight-hour flight back to new york and progressed to staggeringly hungover by the time he was in a private car heading back to his penthouse apartment. once raleigh felt like he was only massively hungover, he pulled out his phone to text cadence. he became only mostly hungover after seeing that his texts weren’t going through. in a matter of seconds, his now slightly hungover state took a backseat to the anxiety filling his stomach as he tried calling to no avail. he frowned as he opened his news feed. the headlines alone made his eyes widen but the videos were what sobered him up the rest of the way.

a new email in his inbox from cadence caught his eye. it was an audio clip and a straightforward message: just so we’re clear, our relationship is over.

cadence was halfway to the airport when she saw the incoming call from an unknown number. she knew it was probably raleigh since she had blocked his number, but she answered the call anyway. she knew she was going to need the closure, may as well get it out of the way.

“cadence? it’s me, please don’t hang up. i’m so sorry, babe. i have no idea what happened, believe me. i woke up in my own hotel room alone, i promise,” raleigh begged, the pit in his stomach had lodged itself in his throat, threatening to turn into tears.

she chose to ignore what he just said. if she let herself pull at that thread and dig into it further to see if it was the truth, she’d never be able to end things cleanly. “tell me this – was she worth it? was she worth this?” she asked, her voice hardened as a reminder to both herself and raleigh that he couldn’t sweet talk his way out of this one.

“of course not. i was black out drunk and don’t remember anything, i swear. all of the stuff in the videos and photos, it was all just—” raleigh’s voice softened, “a moment of weakness.”

“that’s convenient since i’m pretty sure this wasn’t an isolated moment,” cadence said in a clipped tone, examining her worn nail beds. she made a mental note to ask jessica for salon recommendations in her hometown. “do you honestly expect me to believe we could ever be the same?”

“i love you, cadence. i would never cheat on you, babe – you have to believe me,” raleigh pleaded, swallowing his pride at the fact that he was begging right now.

cadence let out a dry, humorless laugh. “i don’t have to do anything, those recordings speak for themselves. you should’ve known that what you did with her would get back to me. and you know what i think? you knew what you were doing. you actually had everything you could’ve ever wanted – the fame, fortune, and creative freedom that comes with success in this industry and something real with someone who cares about the real you, not the curated, fake version of you.”

she paused to take a deep breath and blink back the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. keep it together, cadence, she told herself. “and it scared the shit out of you, didn’t it? it got too real for you because having something real and precious as love in your life also means you could lose it too. and even the thought of that happening made you feel so vulnerable that instead of treasuring and protecting it you decided to utterly destroy the only real relationship you’ve ever had. congratulations – you’ve perfected your bad boy reputation and collected the last trophy you needed, cheater.”

her words cut right through him. “i— i’m so sorry, cadence,” raleigh whispered into the phone. “i swear, i don’t remember saying yes to her or even doing anything with her. please just, tell me what i need to do to fix this.”

the audio recording replayed on loop in cadence’s mind. after a long pause, she whispered back, “you should’ve said no.” the finality of cadence’s tone was punctuated by the beep from his phone indicating she had hung up.

raleigh stood up from the couch where he had sat while on the phone with cadence. as he walked toward the bathroom, he finally looked around his apartment and realized that all of her stuff was gone. the apartment was empty, quiet, almost sterile with its clear surface areas and shiny, clean floors. it was like she had never lived here; his closet didn’t have the hint of jasmine from the perfume on her clothes, his sink counter was devoid of her jewelry and makeup, his music room wasn’t drowning in loose sheets of paper covered in her handwriting, and worst of all, the clothes she always borrowed of his, including his oversized tour shirts and sweatpants, were folded neatly on his bed.

he reached into the back corner of his closet, the side closest to the door, where no one ever stored or looked for anything until he found his gym bag. his felt around the old shirts in the bag until his fingers wrapped around a small, velvet box. he didn’t have to open it to recall the vivid five-carat emerald-cut diamond ring he had planned on proposing to cadence with. he held the box against his forehead, hand clenched around it, before throwing it as hard as he could out the bedroom door into the living room, twisting and turning his body from a crouching to an upright position in one smooth motion. maybe he should’ve been a baseball pitcher instead. it hit the far wall with a resounding thud.

the echo reverberated throughout his living room until it was met with silence, once again reminding him that he was utterly alone. and for the first time in a very long time, he cried. raleigh carrera had never been heartbroken before. until now.

* * * * * mentions: @raleigh-edward; @dulceghernandez; @thegreentwin; @kat-tia801; @otherworldlypresents; @brycesgirl; @robintora;

[tomeandflickcorner]

Falcon And Winter Soldier Episode 5- My Thoughts

Oh boy,  this one might be a bit longer than usual.  There’s a lot to go through in this episode. As always, spoilers under the cut.

It immediately picks up after Walker brutally murdered Nico in that crowded square. We see he’s taken off running, and ends up in some deserted warehouse of some kind.  For a moment, you almost think he’s starting to grasp the gravity of what he’s done, but he’s then plagued by memories of his time with Hoskins, which only leads to him further slipping into insanity and convincing himself that he did what was necessary. That’s when Bucky and Sam enter the scene.  They quickly figure out that Walker’s off his rocker.  Particularly when Walker tries to justify his actions by claiming that Nico was the one who killed Hoskins, even though it was clear that Karli was the one who killed him. They do their best to try and help him realize that revenge is not the same as justice, but Walker isn’t willing to listen.  Sam, slipping into councilor mode, attempts to calm him down. Unfortunately, if his words were having any affect on Walker, it all went downhill fast when Sam told Walker to hand the Shield over to them. Because Walker firmly believed the Shield was his rightful property, so he was not about to willingly give it up.  So Bucky and Sam have no choice but to take the Shield back by force.  At one point during this fight, Bucky gets momentarily dazed upon getting thrown into some sort of circuit breaker box, which also seems to briefly cause his vibranium arm to short-circuit.  Of course, Sam can’t really hold his own against a crazed Super Soldier one-on-one for long, and Walker eventually has him pinned to the ground.  He even destroys Sam’s Falcon wings.  But just before Walker could actually kill Sam- yeah, he was actually about to kill Sam there!- Bucky recovers and rejoins the fight.  Together, Sam and Bucky manage to pry the Shield away from Walker’s tight grip.  Though they have to break his arm in the process. But even then, Walker isn’t backing down.  Because he still firmly believes HE is Captain America.  It takes a pretty awesome combo move from Bucky and Sam to take Walker down. Because not even a Super Soldier can withstand getting swung into a jet-packed fueled blow from the Shield.  With Walker defeated, Bucky pretty much places the Shield at Sam’s feet, effectivly giving it to him once again, before walking off without a word.

So, after that pretty epic battle, the episode allows the characters, and the viewing audience, a chance to catch their breaths. Karli and the Flag Smashers have pretty much gone underground, making it impossible for anyone to locate them. Not that the government doesn’t try, as they conduct raids to all the GRC facilities that housed them, and even arrest the people that offered them shelter.  But still, no sign of Karli anywhere.  So Bucky and Sam decide there’s not much more they can do, particularly since they’ve been benched by the government officials.  Even so, Sam still wants to do what he can in seeing this whole thing to the end. So he asks his friend and associate, Joaquín Torres (who we haven’t seen since Episode 2), to keep him posted. Although, Sam also leaves his broken wingsuit with Joaquín. Which is probably a reference to the fact that Joaquín took up the mantle of Falcon after Sam in the comics.

Of course, there’s still the loose end of Zemo.  Bucky manages to track him down in Sokovia, at the memorial that was put up in honor of everyone who died there during the events of Age of Ultron.  Which does make sense, since Zemo’s wife and children were among the casualties.

Now, I gotta pause for a moment to talk about something here.  During the Previously On segment for this episode, we got reminded of a scene from a previous episode, in which Zemo seemed to be trying to shame Sam and Bucky for not ever visiting the memorial themselves.  Maybe it’s me, but that seems kinda unfair.  For starters, Bucky and Sam weren’t even involved during the events of Age Of Ultron.  With Sam, I don’t think he was officially an Avenger at that point.  He was part of the reserve team, if anything.  And Bucky was in Romania, trying to reacquaint himself with his true identity while hiding from both the CIA and what was left of Hydra. Even if that wasn’t the case, when exactly were they supposed to visit the memorial?  As of the events of Civil War, Sam was on the run as a fugitive alongside Steve and Natasha.  And Bucky was in Wakanda, either in cryofreeze or going through mental rehabilitation.  And then they both got dusted at the end of Infinity War, meaning they were erased from existence for the next five years.  So when exactly could they have visited the Sokovia Memorial to pay their respects? Of course, I do get what the episode was trying to say, since the Avengers didn’t really do much in offering Sokovia any sort of relief efforts.  (Though you could also argue that Tony should have been the one to handle that, considering the whole situation with Ultron was his own fault.  And goodness knows he had the monetary means to do something, with him being the billionaire and all. But I guess that’s all semantics.)

Anyway, Zemo tells Bucky that the only way they can hope to stop Karli now is by killing her, but Bucky tells him they’re going to try to do things their own way.  At this point, Bucky aims a gun at Zemo’s head.  But it’s soon revealed that Bucky had previously made sure the gun was already empty when he shows that he’d removed the bullets beforehand. Which I guess was his way of showing Zemo that he was wrong about him.  And that Bucky, despite being an enhanced individual (something that Zemo clearly hates), still chose to spare his life.  At this point, the Dora Milaje show up, with the intention of bringing Zemo to the Raft, that prison we last saw in Civil War.  Before Zemo is escorted off, he tells Bucky he took the liberty of crossing his name out of Bucky’s book, and that he doesn’t blame Bucky for doing what he thought was right.  Wow, how magnanimous of him, right?  Shame he couldn’t have extended this same level of courtesy towards the rest of the Avengers.

Still, I guess this means we’ve seen the last of Zemo.  At least for now.  Eh, good riddance, I say.  I personally hope we never see him again,  While I do sympathize that he lost his family, I still don’t like him in the slightest.  On the other hand, I did like that Ayo indicated that Bucky is at least partially forgiven for helping break Zemo out of jail.  Sure, she does tell him that he should still stay away from Wakanda for the time being, but she is calling him White Wolf again. Which indicates that their friendship wasn’t broken beyond repair.  Before they part ways, however, Bucky tells Ayo that he has one more favor to ask of her.

Here, the episode begins to focus on Sam as he begins to head back home to Louisiana.  But first, he makes a detour back to Baltimore, in order to sit down and really talk with Isaiah. Which enables us to really learn exactly what happened with him in the 1950s.  Turns out, he didn’t get injected with the Super Serum knowingly  He and a few other Black men were essentially used as guinea pigs, in which they were told they were being given tuberculosis shots or something when it was actually an experimental recreation of the Super Serum.  But it seems that, for some reason, the other Black test subjects begin displaying some manner of unfortunate side effects to the Serum, which suggested it wasn’t stabilizing with them.  Only Isaiah was able to successfully transition into a true Super Soldier like Steve Rogers.  So when the other Black test subjects were captured behind enemy lines (because this was the time of the Korean War), the US government were simply planning to drop bombs on the POW camps, in order to prevent word of their little experiment from getting out.  When Isaiah found out what they were planning, he took it upon himself to get those men out of there, in a similar manner to what Steve did in the first Captain America movie.  Except he was rewarded for his bravery by being locked up like a criminal, with the US government conducting experiments on him to try and figure out why the Super Serum worked with him and not the other test subjects.  They even told Isaiah’s wife that he was dead while making sure he never received any of the letters she’s sent him.  In the end, Isaiah only escaped because this nameless nurse took pity on him and helped him escape by essentially faking his death.  This backstory really is sad and tragic, especially when you realize it’s partially based on an actual historical event.  Just try looking up the Tuskegee Experiment sometime.  It’s really messed up.  Anyway, Isaiah finishes his sad story by telling Sam that, regardless of what he might believe, the world hasn’t changed that much.  And that not only will the world never accept a Black man as Captain America, no self-respecting Black man would even attempt to take up the mantle because of how America has always treated men like them.

With that advice still weighing on his mind, Sam returns home to rejoin his sister, Sarah, and his two nephews, AJ and Cass.  So now we’re getting back to the subplot from the first episode, involving the failing family-run fishing business.  It seems Sarah is still thinking it’s time to throw in the towel and simply sell their family’s fishing boat.  The main issue with that is, because it’s all run down and in need of serious repair, nobody would even consider buying it.  Fortunately, Sam has an idea.  Remembering how their parents, who apparently died some time ago, had been long-standing pillars in the community and had often offered aid to their neighbors, Sam makes a few phone calls and gets the whole community to come pitch in and help repair the old fishing boat, thereby repaying the previous kindness of Sam and Sarah’s late parents.  One of the neighbors even comes by with a brand new engine for the fishing boat. But then, just as Sam is wondering how they’re going to manage getting the heavy-looking boat engine off the back of the truck, Bucky appears out of nowhere, using his Super Soldier strength to effortlessly lift the motor up over his shoulders.

Bucky explains his presence away, stating he’s only there to drop off a crate for Sam, which clearly came from the Wakandans.  It’s implied the contents of the crate have something to do with the favor he asked of Ayo.  But then, Bucky ends up sticking around to help Sam fix up the fishing boat.  Cue a boat repairing montage, complete with a song playing over the whole sequence.  Bit bizarre we’re getting something like this in the penultimate episode, but it’s still pretty enjoyable.  Particularly since we get to see Bucky and Sam actually bonding as themselves.  And yes, there does seem to be vague implications that there might eventually be something between Bucky and Sarah.  Although, I don’t know if I necessarily ship it.  At least not yet.  I’d need to see more of them interacting with each other besides just seeing Bucky saying ‘hi’ to her a few times before I make up my mind.  Granted it would be an interesting thing to explore of course.  Particularly since, to my knowledge, it would be the first biracial couple featured in the MCU.  Unless you count Peter Quill and Gamora, of course.  (And that brief thing that was going on between Peggy and Jason Wilkes in the woefully short-lived Agent Carter series.)  At present, though, I think Bucky’s obvious affection towards Sam’s family seems more tied to his own memories of his life before WW2.  When he wakes up the next morning on the couch (because Sam invited him to crash at the house instead of finding a hotel room somewhere), a genuine smile appears on his face when he catches AJ and Cass playing around with the Shield in the living room.  Those of you who have read Bucky’s bio in the MCU wiki might remember that Bucky was the oldest child of four, so seeing AJ and Cass might be reminding him of how he used to play with his younger sisters.  And interestingly enough, Sam’s sister’s name is Sarah.  Which was also the name of Steve Roger’s mother, which is probably making Bucky feel even more nostalgia.  (Side note- Bucky was actually sleeping on the couch.  Which is a step up from where we first saw him in the first episode, where he was sleeping on the cold, hard floor.  This is probably an indication that Bucky is starting to heal.)

Anyway, we then see Bucky helping train Sam in throwing the Shield around.  They even set up an obstacle course of sorts, with mats being tied to a few of the surrounding trees.  They briefly discuss the lingering issue of the Flag Smashers.  There’s still no sign of Karli, but Sam promises to give Bucky a call when he gets a new lead, and Bucky promises that he’ll come back to assist Sam at that time.  However, the main focus of the scene involves Bucky finally apologizing to Sam for giving him a hard time over the Shield in the first place, with him acknowledging how he and Steve didn’t really grasp what it might feel like to a Black man to be given the Shield.  We also get an indication that Steve and Bucky did discuss Steve’s plans of retiring by staying in the past to live a life with Peggy after returning the Infinity Stones ahead of time. It was vaguely suggested in a read-between-the-lines sort of way at the end of Endgame, but it’s nice they confirmed that Steve didn’t just up and decide to do that on the fly.  Bucky then starts opening up to Sam, admitting to him that the reason why he was so angry about the Shield in the first place was that, to him, the Shield felt like his last connection he had to Steve, who was the closest thing he had to a family.  And that feeling has intensified now that Steve is gone.  (Can we please get some clarification on what they mean by ‘gone,’ by the way?  Did Steve actually pass away from old age offscreen?  Up until now, it’s something they’ve only vaguely inferred to.  Like maybe, maybe, maybe.  But if that’s what happened, I wish they’d quit tiptoeing around the issue and just tell us straight out.)  Anyway, it’s really cool that Bucky is talking to Sam about all of this.  It does show that he truly does trust Sam.  Especially more than he does that crappy therapist they forced on him. Just saying, Bucky was still denying to her that he was having nightmares, despite apparently having sessions with her for six months.  But he freely admits to Sam that he is still having nightmares after only a week or so of them working together.  If that doesn’t illustrate how poorly Bucky’s relationship with his government issued therapist was going, I don’t know what does.  

As if getting how big a deal this is, for Bucky to open up to him like this, Sam once again slips into counselor mode.  He tells Bucky that he shouldn’t put so much concern onto what Steve thought of him, because Bucky can’t let what others think of him determine his own self-value. Or something to that effect.  He also advises Bucky to stop taking the easy way out in regards of alleviating his guilt over what he did as the Winter Soldier. Up until now, Bucky was only going after past Hydra agents to bring them to justice in an effort to make himself feel better.  But if Bucky really wants to gain peace of mind, he should instead focus on helping the victims feel better.  Which probably means that Bucky is going to go back and see that old man, Yori, from Episode 1 again and help him find closure by telling him the truth about what happened to his dead son. I admit, I’m really nervous about watching that scene unfold.  Yeah, Yori does deserve the truth, but I’m scared about how he might take it.  It would be understandable if he ends up blaming Bucky, sure.  But at the same time, it’s kinda been rubbing me the wrong way how this show seems to be acting like Bucky is a reformed assassin who has to atone for what he’s done.  No, that was what Natasha was.  Bucky, on the other hand, was the world’s longest serving POW. Someone who was tortured and brainwashed by evil Nazi scientists who stripped him of his free will and autonomy.  (And, if we consider the implications that Episode 3 gave us, we can also add sexual abuse to the list of things Hydra did to him.)  Yeah, it’s only natural Bucky feels bad for what Hydra made him do.  But that just indicates he’s naturally a good man with a good heart.  I’m not exactly a fan of the idea that he should be made to feel like he should atone for anything he did.  Because he was as much of a victim in all of that as the people Hydra sent him after.  Still, if trying to make up for what Hydra forced him to do is what Bucky needs to do in order to forgive himself, then I guess I can support that.  Do what you have to do to find closure for yourself, buddy.

Anyway, after Bucky leaves, Sam and Sarah continue to finish repairs on the fishing boat in preparation for selling it.  But just before Sam is going to paint over the names of their parents, which is printed on the side of the boat, Sarah stops him. It seems she’s changed her mind about selling the boat, considering the boat is part of their family legacy. Which is something that Sam is relieved to hear, as he didn’t want to see the boat getting sold off, either.  The siblings begin having a heart-to-heart, with Sarah telling Sam that, even though she’s always given him a hard time about the matter, she’d never thought he was running away from things whenever he went off to save the world and whatnot.  She also tells him that she knows he’s been dwelling on what Isaiah said to him, but helps Sam make a decision involving the Shield.  While Isaiah had good reasons for believing the way he did, Sam ultimately decides that the pain Isaiah went through would be in vain if nobody continued to fight for the future.  And so, Sam decides that he’s now willing to accept the mantle of Captain America.  Which leads to another montage.  This time of Sam going through a self-training session with the Shied, with his nephews, AJ and Cass, helping out.  The training montage ends with us seeing that Sam has become a pro at throwing and catching the Shield.

Of course, just when you start to think this episode is feeling like the series finale, with everything wrapping up and setting the stage for a future adventure, we get the reminder that there is still one more episode to go.  It seems that Karli has been pushed over the edge after the death of Nico, as well as seeing all the GRC facilities raided and cleared out of refugees.  And she is now out for revenge.  Specifically, she plans to rally up what remains of her followers and attack the GRC headquarters, as they plan to vote on the Patch Act, which would force millions of people to relocate to their home states. To achieve this goal, Karli manage to join forces with Batroc, who had previously appeared at the beginning of Episode 1.  Strangely enough, an earlier scene does suggest Batroc was actually hired to team up with Karli and the Flag Smashers by Sharon Carter, which only further indicates that Sharon is a bit shady.  What exactly is Sharon up to?  Is she a bad guy now?  That would kinda stink, since she is Peggy Carter’s great niece or something.  Talk about besmirching your family name.  

Anyway, right when the Flag Smasher’s attack on GRC headquarters is about to begin, Sam gets a tip off from Joaquín, who had been keeping his ear to the grapevine in terms of the Flag Smasher’s movements. Apparently, the Flag Smashers coordinate their attacks via this coded cellphone signal, which  Joaquín had figured out how to hack into.  And he notifies Sam that the coded cellphone signal is now showing up in New York City.  Sam seems to figure out what the Flag Smashers are about to do when he sees a news report on the TV about the GRC voting on the Patch Act that evening.  Deciding to go and do something about it, he opens up that Wakandan crate Bucky had dropped off.  The episode ends before we can see what exactly was inside the crate, though.  They’re clearly saving that reveal for the final episode.  Although, my boyfriend, who is also my viewing partner for this show, is a bit of an expert on what went on in the Marvel comics.  (He even worked in a comic book/gaming store before we met.)  It seems that, in the comics, Sam Wilson did end up getting a pair of Falcon wings that utilized hologram technology of some kind.  So he’s theorizing that’s what it is.  Still, we have to wait until next Friday to know for sure.  Either way, it looks like this next episode will decide what happens with Karli and the Flag Smashers.  I honestly don’t see how it’s possible to resolve things with Karli peacefully, though.  She seems too far gone at this point.  But I’m sure Sam will still try to talk her down, which only deepens my respect for him.  And who knows?  Maybe Sam will succeed, with Karli going the Coalhouse Walker route- agreeing to stand down in exchange for the promise of a fair trial, which would allow her to state her case.  (Of course, I hope they don’t do things exactly how it went down in Ragtime.  Because in that story, they pretty much promise Coalhouse that he’ll receive a fair trial, but the moment he surrenders himself, the police immediately open fire and shoot him dead.  Which is not even remotely cool.)

Oh, and then there’s still the matter of Walker.  Unfortunately, I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him.  Because even though Sam and Bucky effectivly took him down AND he received a dishonorable discharge by the US government, he still refuses to believe he did anything wrong.  He’s convinced that he still deserves to be Captain America.  While a small part of me does pity him, he really is displaying what appears to be a fragile White male ego.  He even goes up to Hoskin’s grieving parents and sister and lies to them about how Nico was the one who killed their son, and that they should take comfort in the fact that justice was served.  There’s also a mid-credits scene where we see he’s trying to make his own version of the Shield.  Doubt its made of vibranium, of course.  I Gotta say, I’m seeing a lot of parallels between Walker and Karli right now.  Both of them have convinced themselves that they are 100% in the right, and everything they do is completely justified.  Which naturally makes them both very dangerous. However, I’m mostly concerned by this mysterious woman.  Contessa, or whatever it was she called herself.  She approached Walker after his trial to tell him that he didn’t do anything wrong before giving him what appears to be a blank business card.  (I’m guessing there’s some sort of secret decoded message on this business card that Walker will decipher later on.)  I have no idea who this woman is supposed to be or what her goal is.  I’m guessing she’s someone comic book experts would recognize, but my boyfriend/viewing partner, who is familiar with the comics, didn’t seem to recognize her name, either.  So it’s a big mystery at this point.

Before I wrap up my thoughts for this week’s episode, there is something partially unrelated I should mention.  For those of you who haven’t heard, Sebastian Stan’s latest movie, Monday, recently came out.  And it seems that this movie includes Sebastian and his female co-star in a full-frontal nudity scene.  From what I’ve heard, there have been some select individuals who have seen fit to criticize Sebastian’s appearance in this scene, because he wasn’t in perfect shape or something like that.  If you were one of those select individuals who decided to body shame Sebastian after watching this movie?  Grow up!  Bodies come in all shapes and sizes.  And to expect a male actor to have a completely chiseled physique at all times is extremely unrealistic, particularly when they’re portraying an ordinary person.  The fact that people were acting like this is even more disgusting when you consider the fact that Sebastian Stan apparently already has some body issues.  The fact that he was still willing to film this full-frontal scene despite those issues just illustrates his passion and dedication to his skill as an actor and the message this movie was meant to convey.  He did not deserve to have his body objectified the way it was. Nobody does.  So once again, this is me condemning the behavior of those select ‘fans.’ 

[astrologista]

jason stop dying

ooooook i just watched ditf. it was PRETTY GOOD.... i only wish there was MOOORE! watching this REALLY brought me back to 2011 times to see it and i think they did a good job with most of the character design and animations insofar as matching it to the original. (maybe i’m totally wrong but i thought it looked good for the most part... also i just really love these character designs in particular). obviously the budget is not what it would be on a feature, so there are a LOT of places where animation gets recycled and many still frames. some parts are basically a slideshow lol. but i only sort of came to that realization awhile after watching, so i think they did a fairly good job of masking this... ymmv

so let’s get into it!!! 

SPOILERS a-head! do not read until you’ve watched it because i’ll spoil everything

now obviously the thing to be aware of if you are not is the fact that this adaptation is not a panel-by-panel adaptation of the original death in the family comic. all references to jason’s mother (save one mention of her dying of illness) are completely removed, they go to bosnia instead of africa, and the circumstances around jason leaving are also heavily altered to fit the new narrative. this adaptation does slot perfectly into the universe established by the under the red hood animated movie from 2011 though, without which one would be pretty confused when watching this. it’s kind of a mystery as to why they didn’t just package this with utrh and release the entire thing as a collectors edition. instead they package it with like 4 or 5 unrelated dc showcase shorts which makes absolutely 0 sense but go off i guess. anyway

i liked that they took the time to adapt the scene from the original ditf where bruce is talking to alfred about jason! (i do not like that alfred didn’t get any lines. bad choice). tbh i can’t understand why they bothered showing us alfred, barbara and dick if they weren’t gonna give them any lines..... like come on........??

HOW INTENSE BRUCE LOOKS WHEN HE FINDS JASON IN SARAJEVO and just. grabs him lol. hes smad :)

ok so one two skip a few and we get to the first branch. instead of calling 1-900 we now get to choose whether jason lives or dies. there are 7 possible endings i think i got em all so let’s see what we got here.

“Hush” Route - Robin cheats death

hgrgdggr. i definitely think this is one of the more interesting endings, if not the most interesting one. this is also the only ending in which both bruce and jason survive the bombing. bruce is still too late, but this time jason barely clings to life and survives. as a hurt/comfort fan i was 100% on this shit from the word go but then jason? runs away from home lmao lmao i thought that was SO funny because 1) hes super messed up, how is he able to just literally run out the house that is SO funny to me and 2) implying that bruce would ever not be keeping an eye on him after that is just, lmao. it’s so zany. i call this the “hush” route because of the bandages but there are no other references to hush so ok. that’s fair. so anyway jason is now angsty for loosely explained reasons but the most fun part is yet to come.

when talia showed up, i really thought / was terrified for a second that they were gonna bring up certain “events” regarding damian’s parentage / who damian’s father is but then she mentioned bruce and i was like OH THANK GOD WE CAN STILL GO TO HEAVEN. i am so so grateful to the writers for NOT going there. cuz it was damn close ok. im not sure what the implication of this route is in terms of talia, jason and damian being a family unit but i want to believe talia sees jason as a son and damian’s brother (which is how she refers to him, damian’s brother) and not... yknow. i mean. jason raising a baby is kind of like a baby raising a baby...

no actually the reality of this scene is really dfuckin interesting like. they actually go with the “birth of the demon” (forget if it was birth of the demon or bride of the demon. one of those.) explanation for damian and that is something i’ve NEVER seen adapted so whoever wrote this can have a cookie and i kNOW this is something a certain someone will appreciate :)

not only that but the implications? are interesting? so talia’s claim is she miscarried so bruce won’t have to “choose” between damian and jason and idk if she’s supposed to be all on the-up-and-up in this universe but. i’m sitting here like GIRL YOU DON’T GOTTA DO THIS HE HAS A PRIVATE JET HAVEN’T YOU HEARD OF SHARED CUSTODY and BETTER YET HE HAS A MANSION JUST GO ON MAURY AND GET THIS SORTED OUT RIGHT NOWwwww

i’m also LAUGHING at the implications of jason thinking theres anywhere on earth that he’s going to go and hide damian’s existence from bruce. because you already know he’s just going to be tearing the planet apart looking for jason so this is actually hilarious. imagine he finds jason in one piece and also a baby. his baby. he’d be like (@ talia) “OMG WHY WOULD YOU THINK I WOULDN’T WANT THEM BOTH u are tearing me apart talia......” BUT THEN HE WOULD BE SO FREAKING HAPPY BECAUSE HE HAS TWO ALIVE SONS AND HE THOUGHT THEY WERE BOTH DEAD / (lost to crime)!!!

please lord imagine all of jason’s angst probably just originating from the fact that he has a brain injury that hasn’t fully healed and the trauma of going through all those surgeries probably gave him a lot of fear / paranoia about bruce and associating him with the joker because his neural pathways are all messed up but after he leaves he starts slowly healing back and regaining some of his lost sanity and thats when he realizes he misses bruce so much... but hes also raising his child... and every day it gets more difficult for him not to just take damian and bring him home and i ;v;

anyway i thought this route, while it had a few inconsistencies in it, was really freaking interesting and it gave me feels and plot bunnies and is probably the one i want to write about the MOST despite the fact that baby damian looks like a character from one of those web flash games in this lol

“True” End - Jason Dies

now if you select that jason dies the route basically defaults to the canon of under the red hood and the fact that utrh does not come packaged with this movie is a rather mystifying choice to me as i don’t think this adaptation would stand on its own very well. like you need quite a bit of background to really get anything out of watching this on its own, which is probably why it’s classified as a “short” and not as its own movie.

instead of showing all of utrh, it seems they took the opportunity to give a ~30 minute recap of utrh with basically entirely reused animation but they allow bruce to sort of. give his dvd commentary over it.

the biggest feeling i have on this is that it’s sad that they had to waste 30 minutes like this that could’ve been used to do something new and much more interesting, but honestly i’m not mad. it seems kind of obvious that this choice was probably made for budget and/or runtime reasons because a short does not get the same budget set aside as a full length feature film does. so they basically took the option of recycling 30 minutes of animation from the movie and dubbing new audio over it.

in evangelion they ran out of budget and that’s why the last two episodes consist of nothing more than still pencil drawings and frames while the characters engage in philosophical debates concerning the nature of reality and human connection. and i really enjoyed that. and for the same reasons, i also really enjoyed this.

i enjoyed seeing the clark kent of this universe. i enjoyed that he was basically out on a date with bruce. i enjoyed that bruce was willing to open up for once and tell clark all of what happened with jason. but what really makes this segment shine bright are bruce greenwood’s line reads. there are SO MANY good line reads in here. and i LOVED how many times he said the word “son”. very wholesome. the way he describes how he felt during the final fight with jason? probs my favorite FUCKING part.

and then him and clark joking together about contingency plans and then they’re going to work together to find jason and i ;_; this is probably the closest thing to a “good” ending but as a continuation of utrh i thought it worked really well. i really want to believe that bruce and clark did find jason in this route and that there was some closure in the end even though we didn’t get to see it.

including clark in this was DEFINITELY the right move as well, considering that he played a rather large role in the original ditf so it’s a welcome nod.

The rest of the branches exist under a separate option where Bruce makes it in time to save Jason from the warehouse... but Bruce dies......... :O

let me tell you bout it... bruce’s fucking DEATH SCENE i don’t know WHAT my man bruce greenwood is on, but the freaking LINE READS in this dialogue had me making INHUMAN NOISES. LIKE NOT ONLY WAS THE DIALOGUE GOOD, NOT ONLY DID HE SAY “I LOVE YOU, SON”, but this man is just an amazing actor. not just voice actor, but actor. he really really really really gave it the most i don’t know how else to say it....... it was very very well done and punched me sideways in the heart and i haven’t recovered and i’m not going to recover. and

ok so once we get past that.... scene.... u have to choose whether you’re going to catch the joker or kill the joker. bruce asks jason to promise not to kill the joker but technically jason doesn’t promise so........

Let’s start by choosing to kill the Joker. Jason attends Bruce’s funeral and various members of the Justice League show up to talk with him and just generally hang out. He has Alfred, Dick and Barbara as his support system, but Jason has some other plans.

This leads to a scene in a cafe where Jason meets with a man who... something something Killing Joke, flashlight, more Barbara being used as a plot device when she deserves better, Jason kills the Joker with a butter knife.

Once you do this you can choose to surrender to the police, or retaliate and escape.

Jailbird Ending

basically if you surrender to the police jason ends up in prison where he can actually attack even more criminals so.... ya

If you retaliate and escape instead you go to the Red Robin route where Jason becomes a vigilante who kills people much like the Red Hood and you get a further choice in a fight with Two Face where you can control how Harvey’s coin lands. 

Tim Ending!

If you choose the coin to land clean face up, the thing rewards you by having Tim show up and I forgot what happened (wasn’t really paying attention lol) because i was so focused on TIM!

Prolly they felt sorry for him what with Jason stealing what is essentially his outfit (ok I know it was Jason’s first, but Tim made it cool) so they let a little baby tim have an appearance :) he’s very smol

I guess in this ending Jason gets reintegrated with the family somehow and Tim becomes “Bat-kid” which is hilarious to me but you know what it’s cute. CUTE.

The one ending where the coin lands scarred side up

i honestly forget what happens if you choose to have the coin land scarred side up but let me just say this is a FUCKED route to take, not only have you had jason survive and bruce die, you’ve now chosen to kill the joker against bruce’s dying wish, you’ve chosen to attack the police, and at the end of that you really are gonna choose harvey’s coin to be scarred face up???? choosing this made me feel like a DICK because here i am supporting jason’s whole fall to madness and villainy thing the way it wants me to and now he’s gonna die HERE? i hate it here.

interestingly enough he doesn’t actually die in this route. he ends up at home with barbara and dick while dealing with the fact that he killed the joker but the route ends with jason saying “i promise” so i guess this is supposed to be kinda sad. im so confused lol ok

So that is all the options if you choose to kill the joker, I believe. You can also make the choice to just catch him instead of killing him but amazingly enough, those routes are even more FUCKED up. 

If you do this option Jason goes home, mourns Bruce with Dick, Barbara and Alfred, and becomes Red Hood BUT with a twist, he’s entirely on a bloodless operation in line with Bruce’s wishes. OR.... IS HE?

Things then follow the events of UTRH until the scene on the bridge with the van and the guys. Jason finally confronts Joker, who reveals the truth. 

Apparently in this route Jason has actually been killing and decapitating his victims just like in the original movie, but he’s repressed it so as to not even realize to himself that he’s doing it.

that is FUCKED. also. i wanna cry because jason doing all of that stuff but not even realizing it ;------; jason blocking it out, because he wanted to honor bruce’s wishes for him not to kill anyone ;______; but he’s doing it anyway ;_____; he’s actually hearing voices telling him to kill ;____; like it’s a very cheap twist in a sense and also really quite cruel but.... damn, son.

There is a branch here where you can choose to spare or kill the Joker at this point (UNDERTALE???) but from what I can tell it seems to be totally meaningless what choice you pick because you end up at the exact same point either way, I think there’s a small variation in what happens after you make the choice but after that they just coalesce back together into the following two endings. Which seems incredibly cheap to me, I mean making a choice like that should alter Jason’s path completely but, it doesn’t! So... ooook....

Either way Jason ends up on the Wayne building and Talia shows up with a re-animated Bruce from the pit. Here’s another fun blast from the 2011 past with more gratuitous Grant Morrison dreck, remember that shit? Well, they’re gonna jam it down your throat here, too.

The reanimated Bruce is the Zur En Arrh Bruce and he’s already dead so this is all meaningless but basically Jason fights him and you get to choose whether everybody lives or dies.

Zur En Arrh - Everyone Lives!

if you pick this, jason actually gets the re-animated bruce back to the batcave and they lock him up down there because he’s still pit-mad and the prognosis is not great. but i’m not sure what they expected, he is the zur-en-arrh guy so I don’t think he’s getting better. 

Zur En Arrh - Everyone Dies!

pretty much there’s an explosion and all three of them die and that’s it

I think that should be all the possible endings there are.

By the way the different ways in which black mask dies in this was actually a fairly clever running gag lollll. let that mf burn we don’t need no water.

overall there are a couple of things i would have done to SIGNIFICANTLY improve this adaptation beyond some of the obvious ones.

- the fact that all of the branching options are branched exclusively under the “jason lives and bruce dies” branch is a huge wasted opportunity. imo this is the most egregious problem with this, i was really looking for a more balanced tree / explanation of different things. i am probably super biased though being a fic writer and used to fic, we’re the ones making huge ass trees every day lol.

- the fact that there is no “good” ending here is something i kind of expected but given the context of this is lackluster. i sort of get it though because granted, the original ditf ends in an unresolved manner but it’s distinctly unsatisfying here. i secretly wanted an ending where bruce, like, figures out about the different endings and hacks reality to try to find a good ending where jason lives and everything is fine lmao. like a bat mite ending.

- i was disappointed in a sense that the narrative given in here is so basically simplistic? maybe i’ve been spoiled by games like 999 and undertale where shit gets messy and that’s not what this is supposed to be but when i play something with multiple endings in this day and age, at least play with the concept a little bit and connect some of the branches together narratively. use different devices. i was also hoping some of the choices would be a little bit meatier like you could choose to “forgive bruce” or something cool like that lol. but it looks like the majority of choices have to do with who lives or dies. and i felt like they couldve been a bit more creative with that ya know? being able to control harvey’s coin was a GREAT example of having some more fun with this.

- it is a huge missed opportunity not to have a “secret ending” on something like this. like where. the fuck. is my secret ending for completing everything. come on. and in a similar vein there should’ve been at least something in terms of bruce and jason interacting in a “true ending”. even if very brief. the closest thing to an ending this has is the “jason died” route and then the ending where he’s talking to clark which i feel like was a REALLY nice good optimistic ending as far as this goes, but it comes off as kind of disappointing i guess

there were SO many interesting nuggets locked into this thing though. i can’t deny it bugs me how many wasted opportunities there were with how they chose to structure things but i guess it’s the best you can do with limited runtime. i thought it was really well done though, makes an interesting companion piece to the original utrh, and is definitely something that i will be re-watching again soon!! overall i give it a 7/10 and some parts an 8/10+!

[hs-devote]

3. G E S T U R E

Moodboard // Content // Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

Previous chapter :

Y/N remembered the accident with Harry the other day, where she was robbed and Harry throwing some good punch to the robber. Then, she just realise that she didn't get any call from the police who was took some clarification from them. Until this time, the police never called her. If they did follow up on that case, her or Harry should have been asked to be willing to be witnesses, right?

3. GESTURE

Harry is back to the office. He looks better than yesterday, his good mood has returned, proven by he was smiling back to Y/N and Madeleine when he was arriving his floor then go straight to his office. Y/N was thinking to bring him a coffee for his nice gesture earlier. With a cup of his favourite Americano in her hand, she scanned her access card until the door open. Harry was signing whatever documents he sign when she walk in. His hand quickly signed every single documents piled on his desk. Y/N notice his cross tattoo in his backside hand, near the thumb. Makes her think Harry might be a religious person.

“Good morning, I bring you a coffee.” She smiled, closing the door. Harry lifted his head, giving his signature smile to his assistant. He leaned back, crossing his arms. “What occasion?”

“You just had rough days lately, so I think a cup of coffee will cheer you up.” She shrug, putting down the cup.

“Thank you.” He sigh, “I'm sorry for.. well, my bad behaviour these past few days. I know it was inappropriate, so I'm really sorry.”

“I understand, everyone had their bad days.”

Harry shake his head, “But still, I should have a total control over my temper. And oh, how's your wound? I didn't make it worse, did I?”

“Oh,” Y/N mumble, moving her arm. “It's getting better everyday. Maybe when I get back home, I can remove the patch. No need to worry.”

Suddenly, Harry's office phone ringing. He pick it up with the loudspeaker on, “Yes, Madeleine?”

“Mr. Styles, the Telegraph's team is here. Do you want me to send the to your office or meeting room?”

Harry glance at Y/N, raising his eyebrow – waiting for her answer. After all, she was the one who prepare the meeting. “They're supposed to be three people only, I've prepared a meeting room in the corner if you like.” Harry just nod, “Send them to the corner one. I'll meet them in five.”

“Right away, sir.”

Sipping half of his coffee, Harry smoothed his suit jacket and fixing his tie before getting up from his seat. Leading them both to meet the guests. Y/N smiled, letting him go first. Walking together with Harry, made Y/N feel this confident boost towards her body. It's like Harry transferring his confidence to her. She feels powerful next to Harry. As long as Y/N work together with him, Harry likes to give her encouragement, he was the one who builds trust in herself. Unlike the first time she felt insecure working together with him.

She thanks him for opening the door for her, letting her in first. There, three people already waiting. On the far left, sitting a bald man in his forties. Next to him, a young man with black jet hair. And the last, a beautiful, very beautiful –she thinks– woman in her burgundy attire, her strike blonde hair fell until her back.

Y/N greets all of them with firming hand shake. Offering refreshment at the table. Meanwhile, she could feel Harry stiffen in his place, right when he wants to shake the woman's hand. The atmosphere is a bit awkward, but he quickly get over it.

The woman with name Victoria, not saying much during the meeting. Y/N could say, she just staring at Harry for the whole time. She bet Victoria didn't listen at all, the way she stutter when the bald man, Mr. Gogh, asked her one time – clearly prove it.

The meeting ended quickly, there was no serious discussion, just an introduction that Victoria will be the one who associated with Erskine, replacing the last in charge.  When everyone had left meeting room, in the corner of Y/N eyes, she saw Victoria entered Harry's office, while the man himself trailing behind her.

If they want to talk about the company, at least the other two man didn't go back first. Y/N assumed they both talked about something else. And she was sure, they already knew each other before from the way they act. Before Y/N taking step back to her office, her phone buzzed.

Messages– Now ; Harry Styles.

Could you do me a favour? Bring me hot chocolate, and a camomile tea for my guest.

Sure, coming in 5 mins. She text back, sprinting towards the break room.  Digging into the shelves, she take the Twinings box first, and Charbonnel et Walker later. Starting to make drinks and ready to deliver it. Y/N pushes the door open effortlessly since it wasn't locked. Harry beams at her, while Victoria in front of him throwing a death glare.

“Thank you, darling.” Harry said, sneaking his arm around her waist. His thumb drawing a circle in her side while Y/N putting down the drinks. Y/N just gave him small smile before excusing herself. For a moment, she was wondering why Harry was showing affection in front of Victoria, but she choose to shake it off.

“Is she the one?” Y/N could hear Victoria's snide comment when she was closing the door. With Harry's voice still dangling in the air, “Is it important to you for know?”

“I don't believe she has the courage to show up here.” Y/N hear Madeleine murmured under her breath,  while she gathering her stuff off in her desk. “Oh, hey Y/N. How's the meeting?” She asked, tucking her hair behind the ear.

“It's good. But it looks like Ms. Selley still has some business with Mr. Styles.”

“Victoria Selley? Oh no wonder. That snake always have her own way.” She scoffs, “Hey, do you want to grab lunch? I need to tell you something since the Telegraph's will be the one of the clients who like to visit.”

Y/N nods unsure, “Sure. Let me take my purse first.”

. . . .

“You have to be careful with Victoria Selley.” Madeleine spoke with her mouth munched her burger. Picking up her fries, Y/N looking at her cautiously “And why was that?”

Y/N isn't a big fan of fast food, but this time she decides an exception. Before Madeleine open her mouth, she choked on her food. Y/N give her a drink right away. Madeleine just laugh after sipping her coke, “I'm too excited. Victoria is not as nice as you saw. She's.. pretentious. Do you know her and Mr. Styles used to be dating?”

“No.”

“Yeah, they used to be dating, around a year ago for five months. She always bragged about it. She's kinda dumb, and her attitude is blah. I don't know why they split but I think Mr. Styles finally realised her bad behaviour. The one of many reasons I don't like her is.. she always bragging about their sex life – which I think it's private thing . How good he was in bed, how fast Mr. Styles can make her reach her orgasm.”

Y/N crinkles her face in disgust, her appetite gone instantly. “Okay, can we not talk about THAT thing? I feel.. nauseous.”

“Well, just imagine her and her wide mouth talking about it in front of the employees. But the worst part is when she came back after the split, trying to tempt him to have.. intercourse in his office.” She added, “The exciting part was when Mr. Styles barking at her, his voice heard up to several floors down. He dragged her ass out, throwing her underwear off. Amazing..”

“Underwear?!” Y/N shouts lowly in shock, she truly could feel her eyes about to pop out.

“Yeah, but I think they didn't do it. Maybe she sliding down her underwear before had the chance.” Madeleine muttered, “If I were her, I wouldn't have the face to come back, let alone meet him. It's surprising she works there.”

Y/N leans back, too much thing she should know today. “And why we are talking about this? I mean, their history wouldn't impact their work. They have to separate work and personal life, right?”

“I do believe in Mr. Styles, but not with Victoria. We won't know how smart she is if she will take advantage of  this situation.” Madeleine shrug, “I just hope we won't be fired for gossiping him.”

The food was delicious, they really want to stay longer but work couldn't wait. Their floor was quite was usual when they arrived. Mr. Styles' office is shut closed, the man himself is nowhere to be found. Y/N take the sign as he might be having lunch.

Stepping inside her office, she plopped down the seat. Turning on her screen and moved the cursor to downloading some emails, her eyes was set off to an invitation to a gala dinner in the next two weeks, obviously addressed to Harry Styles.

From: Bentley, Betty <b.b@britishchambers.org.uk> Subject : BCC Busines Dinner 2019 To: executive_asst@erskine.co.uk, hstyles@erskine.co.uk

British Chambers of Commerce proudly presents The Annual BCC Busines Gala Dinner

To Mr. Harry Styles and his plus one You are cordially invited to attend our annual BCC Business Gala Dinner 2019 Friday, June 14th  – 7 pm The Langham 1c Portland Place, Regent Street, London, GB W1B 1JA

RSVP to Joyce  44 (0) 20 7636 1000 or click here by June 10th

“Y/N?” Y/N flinched when someone call her name. It was Harry standing in her door, grinned sheepishly. She's blinking her eyes, “Yes, sir?”

“Did I shock you? I'm sorry. I just want to give this to you.” Harry handed her a bundle of document, and putting a small cute box from Lola's onto her desk, “That must be done in three days”

“Well noted, sir.” She take them and make a quick glance of it. “And, this?” while pointing to the box, when she saw it, she immediately knew that it was cupcakes.

“When I drove back here, I saw them and then remembered you. So.. yeah.” He said while scratching his neck, avoiding eye contact with Y/N. “Besides, I was happy because the Commonwealth thing is doing well after all, nothing to worry about. Lucas told me we possibly win the bid.”

“Ah, that's great. Thank you for the cupcakes, anyway.” Y/N smiles, “Actually, sir. The council of British Chambers just sent you an invitation to their annual Gala Dinner two weeks from now. Do you want to come? I have to send your reservation and the plus one immediately.”

“Err, yeah. Of course. Put my name and yours for the reservation, please.” He nodded, staring deep directly at her eyes. His words makes Y/N stop typing, “Pardon?”

“I don't have anyone, you know? So, I think you will be a good companion, if you don't mind.”

Y/N stunned for a moment, didn’t expect Harry would invite her. “Oh, of course, I won't. I am very honoured, thank you.”

Harry just winked at her. Y/N giggling right after closing her door, never think would be attending such an exclusive event with her boss. She's blushing when she remembered the way Harry wink her.

. . . .

For years her life, Y/N never been dreaming she could get amazing things at the age of twenty-two. Maybe for some people, at the age of her, there are more people with better achievement than her. But for Y/N, she's already grateful to be at this point. Maybe, maybe if she try even harder, who knows in a few years she will earn highest job. Not coming from a rich family, little Y/N was struggling to  reach her goals. Experiencing a childhood nothing like any other child had, Y/N had to still protect herself. Showing everyone that she can.

Especially to her big family, who always throwing snide words toward her family.

Even the grandparents always dragging her father whose jobs were not as high as those of her uncles. Sometimes, her older brother, Connor, has to against their words, and end up with him locked up in his room.

Until someday, when all families gathered together at Easter, Y/N was proud to announce that she was accepted into King's College Business Management programme with full scholarship. Ended everyone with mouth hanging open. Three years later, she got her degree with honour.

Her father is regular employee at local publishing house, while her dear mother is stay at home mum. Connor himself, being paramedics in NHS.

Lurking around her apartment barefoot, Y/N couldn't find the cheese block that would be use to cook dinner. She decided to go out to buy the cheese, and doing a little grocery shopping. After all, the grocery just down the road.

The cold night welcoming her when she pushed the door of her apartment building. Not many people outside, she walk slowly with both hands in the pockets. A few step to the grocery, she feels like someone follow her behind. She had to look back a few times, but no one to be found.

Taking a few cheese blocks, some late night snacks, and the others essentials, Y/N hurried back home. To be fair she still feel being followed and it scares her. Passing the end of the road, she hear a faint groan. Goosebumps getting on her. She wants to leave but that voice.. asking for a help. Venturing herself, she walk into the dark alley where the voice came. Her step stopped, seeing someone lying on the ground, clutching his neck. In front of him, a man standing tall. Slowly, very carefully, Y/N step closer. Her hand covering her mouth, the lying man was strangled with a belt around his neck. His voice become clearer and heartbreaking, as the belt became tighter in his neck. He begged forgiveness from the person who strangled him.

Y/N heart dropped when the culprit – was wearing all black – , turn his head towards her. Their eyes collided with each other. And there, her breath stopped. The pair eyes she stared at, it's Harry's.

She run as fast as she could. All the thing she know is to run as fast as possible. She couldn't process what she just saw. Slamming her door closed, Y/N make sure to locked it securely. Her panting breath is all she could hear. Those eyes. Darker green irises belongs to Harry, that she usually see when he was in anger. It's belong to him, isn't it?

She couldn't be one hundred percent sure. Half of his face was blocked by darkness, the rings that was Harry's usual essentials, she couldn't find them on his fingers. All she can recognise was.. the eyes.

If that's really him, what was he doing there? And most importantly, why did he do that?

“No.. no. That's not Harry. That's not him. Your eyes just playing tricks on you, Y/N. It can't be Harry.” Y/N murmurs to herself. After all, there's so much people have dark green eyes, right?

. . . .

During the meeting that day, Y/N's mind wandered everywhere. Still thinking about what happened last night. Harry even had to called her out several times for being caught spacing out, not paying attention at all. He didn't look angry, but was worried.

“Are you okay? You were spacing out.” Harry asked after the participants left the room.

“I'm so sorry about that. I'm fine.” Y/N assured, her hands playing with her pen. As in disbelief, Harry moved his chair closer, looking at his assistant closely, “Are you sure? Your face is pale, you know.”

Y/N gulped, her sweating palm stroking her thigh. “Yeah, just.. just having a lot of thoughts.”

She encourage herself to slowly looking at him, just want to convinced her mind that .. the man from last night, was not her boss. The eyes she was looking at this time, are bright green irises. The greenest she's ever seen, sparkling, looking like heaven. The more she looks into his eyes, the more she dragged into.

“You have the most beautiful eyes.” She's not consciously whispered.

“Yeah?”

She nods in agreement, “Mmhm.” Keeping the eye contact, Harry's finger caressing her cheek. Delicately, down to her lips. In her daydream, she saw those eyes first thing in the morning when she open her eyes from sleep. Then the eyes turn darker along with Harry's sinister laugh echoed her ears.

Jumbling in her spot, she moved away. Y/N could feel her face redden. “I'm sorry, I don't mean to.. I think I need a drink.”

“I think you should go home, Y/N.” The void emotion in his voice, make her heartbeat quicken. Her feelings become null, “No no, I'm sorry Mr. Styles–  I'm promise I won't do it again. Let me get my tasks done. They should be ready by tomorrow –”

“Y/N. It's fine. You're pale, and you're sweating, you have to rest well enough. I'm sorry for getting you overworked. The papers can wait. After all, they agreed to change the contract. I will ask Ethan to re-done it, he was the one who drew up at the first. It's okay, Y/N. I'm not angry. I'll be more upset if you fell sick.” He give her reassuring smile.

“I'm fine, Mr. Styles. Really. I just need a drink, and rest a bit. And I'll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Don't worry.”

“All right, you can go rest and come back whenever you can. Need me buy you certain medicine?”

Y/N shake her head slowly, getting up from her seat. “Thank you.” Turning her back, she walk out from the room. From that moment, she just knew that the dark eyes last night, was not Harry's. She choose to going to the break room instead of her office, imagine of a glass of fresh juice making her drool. Good things, the are several choices of fruits there, she would go with the guava.

“Hey, what's wrong. You were spacing out for five minutes straight?” Madeleine pat Y/N shoulder, taking a stool next to her. When she was walking into the break room, she saw her co-worker sitting alone with hands twisting her half empty glass.

“Um, no. I'm fine, just.. having minor headache. Mr. Styles dismissed my presence for a couple hours ahead, I think?” Y/N spoke unsure. Madeleine giving her questionable look, “Really?”

“Apparently he thought he made me overworked because I was spacing out in the meeting.”

“Why not lay on the couch. As long as his guests doesn't see it.. he won't be mad.”

“My headache it's not that big deal, it's just I have this assumption running around my head. All I have to do is.. clear my mind.”

“If it's because of work, you don't have to be too rigid, let a loose. Have a little fun if you have time. Mr. Styles once told me that, working in here you are required to do everything right, but don't be stressed. If not, in a short time you will have this feeling that you can't stand this.”

Y/N was speechless, never thought Madeleine could talk like that. “Very nice of him, but actually it's not about a job or working here.. It's –”

“Oh, so this is about someone. Isn't it? Do I know him?” Madeleine squeals, grinning like a fool.

“How can you be sure it's about a person? Let alone a male?”

“If a female spacing out in her work, fifty percent of surveys proves it is due to male problems.”

“And how do I know the validity of them?”

“Because,  you're now talking directly with the surveyors.”

Y/N scoffs, “I think you need go to back, you know. Mr. Styles will be pissed if he knows you weren't on your desk.”

“Well, he left fifteen minutes ago. He just said to keep an eye for you while he was away. I think he headed to some expensive – well known brand designer galleries. He was in call, talking about measurement and gala next week.”

“I didn't know someone busy like him took the time to come there, he could have told them to come to him.”

“I think he wants to surprise his date. Keeping all secrets. Who knows?” Madeleine shrug, chugging her milk. Y/N turning her head, “A date?”

“My cousin is one of the organizer, and she spill the tea that.. his reservation inclusive his plus one. She doesn't want to tell me who, but she said this is the first time he will come with date for the past three years. He'd always come alone by himself, even when he had a girlfriend. He wouldn't do that.”

“Not even his past assistant? I mean, they obviously would fit into conversation.”

“Nope.” She said, “I remember one day when he was dating Victoria, she begged to accompany him. But he declined. Said it wasn't suitable for her and she would not understand if he chatted about the business. Don't asking me why I knew, because she was begging in the lobby.”

“Well, I will go back to my desk. Have a nice rest. Just don't fall asleep in here, I can't carry you if Mr. Styles hasn't returned yet.” Both of them laughing, Y/N giving her a thumb. Suddenly, her phone ringing.

Mum

“Hi, mum? How are you?” Y/N greets her mother with smile.

“Hi, pet. How are you? How is London?”

“I'm good. London is great. How are you and dad doing? Everything OK?”

“Yeah, we are fine. Just missing you and Connor at all. Any plan to come home in the near future?”

“I wish I have. If I want to, I have to ask Connor too. But I'll figured it out. Have to find the right time with C.”

“Ah, I see. Sometimes I just think why don't you live with Connor? You both live in London. Now, I think that you two barely talk to each other.”

Y/N laugh, “Mum, you know that he's not really live in London, Watford to London will take fifty minutes. I can't live that far from my office, besides he's living with his friends. There's no way I live with them. But yeah, the last time I talk to him was like.. two weeks ago? He's very busy with his job.”

“I just don't like to know my baby living alone by herself.”

“Well, half my life I spent in London. I mean, when I was in college, I stayed in London. Now, I move to London again.”

“Yes, it's like your success is all in London.”

The rest conversation is a good talk with her mother, not a lie it sometimes make Y/N homesick, and almost make her wants to cry for holding her longing of her parents.

“All right pet, I have to hang up. Not want disturb your work.”

“It's all right, mum. Promise.”

“Good then, good bye pet. I love you.”

“I love you, mum. Tell dad I love him too!”

“Will do.”

. . . .

Friday the 14th.

4.15 pm

“I will send my driver to pick you up around 6, is that all right? I will text his name and the number plate, so you don't get the wrong car.” Harry said while his finger pressing the lift button.

“It's okay. I'll make sure he won't wait too long.”

“Take your time. It doesn't matter if we are a little late.” Harry ensured that Y/N going home on time that day so she could prepare for the Gala. He also even gave not too much assignments. The lift ride didn't take too long until the door open when reached the lobby. The lobby in main building was not  too crowded by people. Only a few employees are seen going to home.

“Later, darling.” He smiled while patting her head. Leaving Y/N stunned in her spot. Luckily there were only two of them in the lift, no one caught them. If there was even one person, someone would have started the gossip. Before falling to another spacing out, Y/N hurried out. Wanting to get home quickly.

Thirty minute-ish ride to home, Y/N urgently placing her bag carelessly along with her heels. Pulling her towel, she rushed to take a shower. She made sure her teeth were clean and her breath didn't smell. She even shaved! Well, she want to look presentable for Harry of course.

For this special occasion, Y/N pulled all black attire. Her choice fall on black spaghetti strap dress. Backless with split side open, showing off her back and long legs. She finishing her look with light make up, and simple hair bun. She just hope she looks appropriate for this such an event.

Strike at 6, her phone buzzing. Mr. Grint, her chauffeur tonight, letting her know that he just arrived and will wait outside her building. Glancing at the number plate on the screen, Y/N lock her door and remembering the number along the way.

LF19 EYD

Her eyes were fixed on a black Tesla a few meters in front of her after closing the door entrance of her building. Someone appeared from the driver's door, looking dapper with grey attire. He opened the passenger door with kind gesture, he must be Mr. Grint.

“Ms. Y/L/N? Good evening. Mr. Styles is waiting for you.”

“That's me. Thank you, Mr. Grint.”

He closed the door for her the walking to driver's seat. Y/N glance around, admiring the interior for a bit. She wonder how many expensive cars Harry's has – well she's sure this is one of the many he has.

“Do you want to drink? I have some cold drinks if you want.” He ask calmly, his eyes fixated on the road.

“No, thank you Mr. Grint.”

“I'll drive you to his house first, then you and Mr. Styles will go together.”

“Oh, I thought I'll meet him at the hotel?”

“No, ma'am. That would be silly if you both arrive separately, right?”

The car stopped after forty minutes drive at very fancy building in Chelsea Waterfront. The cool air hit Y/N's face immediately right after Mr. Grint helped her open the passenger door. Her eyes could see the Thames and the shimmering light across the infamous river.

“I'll escort you to his penthouse.”

Y/N trailed behind Mr. Grint, walking to the West Tower, the highest residential building in the complex. Some of receptionist staff in the lobby greeting both of them before going upstairs by lift. Mr. Grint pressing the 31st button, Y/N assumed that where Harry's floor. Reaching the floor wasn't take too long, until the door open, two large oak doors welcome her on the left.

“Suzanne, it's me.” Mr. Grint talking to the intercom after pressing doorbell. In thirty seconds, a not so old lady show up behind the door, smiling warmly with wrinkles in her eyes,“You must be Ms. Y/L/N. I'm Suzanne.”

Y/N nods, “Good evening, ma'am.”

Mr. Grint excusing himself before Y/N gets in, disappearing behind the lift. Suzanne open the door wider, letting her in. “Have a seat, darling. Harry's getting ready, should I make you a drink while waiting? God knows how long he dressed up.”

She smiles, clutching her purse. “No, I'm fine.”

“Right, I'll clean the kitchen. If you need something, just call my name.” Suzanne grinned, waltzing to the kitchen. Taking the seat in front of large glass door, Y/N could see clearly London night panoramic, before looking around Harry's massive penthouse in awe. How much cost this place spent?

Ten minutes passed, Y/N heard key jiggles behind her with approaching footsteps. She turn back, finding Harry was talking to Suzanne, seems unaware of her presence. From this far distance, she can smell his perfume. A fresh smell that she's unfamiliar with. The perfume is rich in spicy smell, but sweet with vanilla and a bit cocoa.

“Y/N?” Too engrossed in enjoying his perfume scent, she didn't realise that Harry was standing beside her. The scent going strong. So sexy, so soothing. Strong reminiscent of an English gentlemen's club.

“Hi, Harry.” Smiling, her hand smoothed her dress while getting up from couch. His look tonight was something else. Harry opted for fitted black suit with a striped white t-shirt which sat low, flashing his toned chest and ink. The cross necklace dangling around his neck.  He also donned a pair of maroon shoes with a gold buckle on the front for the event.

Harry was spacing out for a second, adoring this beauty in front of him. The delicate of her collarbone, the perfect dress suited her body, and her legs showing from the split.

“Did you wait long? I didn't hear you come, well couldn't find my key either.”

“No, no problem. I just got here.” She ensures him with small smile.

“Are you ready? Shall we get going now?”

“We shall.”

“C'mon.” He murmured, placing his palm behind her bare back. Lead her out.

“You look beautiful. I like your dress.” Harry said as the lift door closed, going down slowly.

“Thank you, you look astounding.” She smiling shyly with red face.

“In a good way?” He teased, coming by laughter from her. “In a handsome way possible.” The lift stops when the screen show an underground parking area. But Harry didn't stop at one of the cars, stepping further until they arrive in private area with sign showing 311, his penthouse number.

Well, he has his own parking spot for.. his five fancy cars, Y/N count. Not including the Tesla earlier. He stopped at a black Audi TT. Unlocking it doors, Harry opened the passenger door for Y/N. “Watch your skirt.”

“Thanks.”

Thirty minutes drive, they spent with light chatting. Sometimes singing along together of whatever music played. The conversation make them get to know each other. Y/N talked about her college live, letting Harry know that she had lived in London before. While Harry talk about his application was declined by one of Ivy League universities for his bachelor admission, so he stuck in England for that reason. But Stanford accept his application for his master programme.

Drop off area was crowded by new arrived guests. But the valet quickly approaching the car to help Harry park his car. Seeing blinding lights from a few photographers lined up along the entrance, making Y/N's stomach churn. Sensing her discomfort, Harry squeezed her clothed thigh, “Don't be nervous. This is just dinner after all, nothing to worry about. C'mon.”

Y/N exhaled as Harry stepping out from his seat, then quickly opening her door. She grab Harry's hand as he once stretch out for her to take. Harry gently put his hand on her waist, lead her in. Some men and women greet them when they entered the grand ballroom, wishing them a pleasant night. Before they get the chance to go to their table, the one and only Victoria Selley, bright and radiant in her lilac dress, walking to them with a glass of wine in her hand.

“Hi, Harry.” She smiled sweetly, and turn bitter towards Y/N. “Well, hello there. I don't know if you are invited?”

Ouch.

“Evening, Victoria. I don't know either if you are supposedly invited. Let's get our table, love.” Harry murmured, taking Y/N hand and looking for their table with help of the staff. Once he found it, he pulled a seat for her. The other four seat still vacant.

The magnificent  of the hotel and the decoration amazed her. Seeing the crystal chandeliers, the waiters passing by with dapper uniform, some women with diamonds in their bodies, she instantly knew that this was not a regular event. She could see the staff organizers help other guests find their seats – don't want to give the impression of being unprofessional.

When she sees Harry, she can say that this is his nature. Surrounded by professionalism, luxuries, a prestige.

“You look pissed with Victoria.” Y/N asks, then thanking waiter for filling up her drink. He shrugged, “She's still bad person from the last time I met her.”

“So, you already know her?” She ask curiously.

“We kinda.. had a story together. But not quite pleasant way. That's why, if you noticed the day we had meeting with her, I kinda shock. Never think will meet her again.”

“She must be horrible girlfriend at that time if you said that. Not shocking. I don't like her too.” Y/N murmurs, her gaze was divided between Harry and the host who just started the event.

Harry chuckle, his dimples on full force. He didn't denied the girlfriend thing. He talk about her openly like it's nothing, nowadays not many people still want to discuss their ex-lover, most of them would shut the question immediately. “Why?”

“You could see the true colour of people from the way talk. As easy as that.”

“Harry?”

A male voice interrupted their talk while sitting next to Harry. A man who seemed to be the same age as Harry, his ocean blue eyes piercing from the glasses he wears. Harry grinned, giving the man a bro hug.

“Hey, Niall. What are you doing here, mate?”

That Niall guy giving him his one million dollar smile, “Eh, representing the hospital council. No biggie.” His deep accent catch Y/N's attention. He doesn't sound like Brits. “Are you coming yourself?”

“Well, not this time. Y/N, this is Niall Horan – my best friend, he works for Nuffield Health. And Niall, this is Y/N.” Harry introduce the two. Niall smiled, shaking Y/N's hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Niall.”

“Did I miss something? The traffic is quite shit tonight.” Niall ask. Harry shake his head, “Not at all. The council just delivered a speech.”

“Oh, Harold. When will you schedule the next session? You just said that it might get worse. Should I give you additional prescription until you get your shit together?”

Niall's words caught her off guards. She doesn't misheard that, does she? Prescription? Is Harry sick? But he looks fine. While Niall stared at Harry questioningly, Harry just froze at his seat, while shooting a glare to his friends. But seems Niall doesn't understand.

“You're sick Harry?” Y/N asks slowly. “No, no darling. I'm fine.” He answered, but Y/N could sense uncertainty in his voice. Niall widened his eyes, understanding this situation. “He just need his vitamins and supplements, nothing to worry. You know he's very busy man.” He added.

“By the way, thank you for the donation, Harry. It really helps the hospital, you know.” Niall change the subject, “Erskine still hold the highest donors position to Nuffield, not surprised.”

“Ah, it's nothing than the company's revenue tho. As long as we can, why not?”

“So, you work as a doctor, Niall?” Y/N try to join the conversation. Niall looks like a nice person to talk to.

“He's one of the doctors at Guildford Hospital, if you want to consult with him, you must make a special appointment. Very busy doctor.” Harry teases, with a laughter coming from Niall, “Hey, don't be like that! But yes, my job every day is examine patients.”

Their conversation was interrupted when waiters offering the main course – indicates the council's speech is over. Niall jokingly ask to them if he could have all they have to offer. Harry shoves his shoulder immediately. “Watch your calories, I don't want you to confide to me if you gain excess weight!”

Y/N laughs, they seem really best friends from the way they were joking, even she can comfortably talk to both of them like old friends. Dishes was fantastic, the ambiance really makes Y/N do not want to leave, could stay a night in their hotel room if she could. She's sure will spend a lot of money if she wants to treat herself here.

“All right, Harry. See you later! Don't forget to call me right away.” Niall hug him before heading out, the event end ten minutes ago but the three of them too engrossed in conversation.

“Sure, drive safe mate!”

“See ya later, love.” It's his turn now to hug Y/N in friendly way. She smiled, “Bye, Niall. It was nice to meet you.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. You both look cute together.” He winks, grabbing his suit jacket in his chair, then heading out. Both Harry and Y/N just chuckled, waving their hand to Niall.

“He's nice.” Y/N mumbled, taking her purse off the table.

“The most easy going lad I've ever met.” Harry nodded, while leading her out. “C'mon.”

“Hey, Harry!” Someone shouted when they were waiting for Harry's car from the valet. Harry pretended not to hear, but Y/N patted his shoulder . Her eyes on someone who was approaching them. A tall man dressed in velvet green tux, grinning with his arms open wide. Y/N could see Harry's facial expression change.

“Hey, I didn't see you earlier. Where were you hiding?” This man spoke in sneering tone, both his hands in pockets.

“What do you want Dale?” Harry ask lowly, his eyes ignored the man he called with Dale. Dale smirked, eyes seeing a woman next to Harry.

“I don't know you've got new girl here, the media hasn't reported anything yet. Feeling just yesterday that I saw you in a magazine on steamy vacation with a model. What's the name?”

“Dale, if you want to talk a gibberish like that. I'll never ever listen to your bullshit.” Harry growled, staring to glare at Dale. Y/N doesn't know what happened between them. Never meet let alone hear his name before. Seems Harry was having bad blood with this guy from the way he talk to him.

Dale ignore Harry, he instead coming closer to Y/N. His fingers inappropriately touching her chin, “Hello, beauty. What's your name?”

Before Y/N could respond, Harry quickly pulled her behind him. His hand grabbing Dale's lapels. Y/N gasps, swiftly trying to separate them. Fortunately, there aren't many people here, only a few who were busy with their own business.

“Harry, don't.” She begs, her hand on his waist and the other hold his shoulder.

“Don't touch her with your grimy hands. Who do you think you are?” He fumed. In a blinking eyes, his eyes grow darker, hands still on lapels, his veins poking out.

“Well, I think you keep her because she's good in pleasing you in bed, doesn't she? You have never been like this before with your.. whore.”

“Harry!”

His fist punched Dale's face along with Y/N's shrieking. Dale's fell to the floor, with Harry keep giving him some good punches on the face. Some people watching with curiosity.

“Harry, no – please!” Y/N's hands trying as hard to separate them. She could see Dale's swollen face, but Harry's hand look fine. Like he didn't do anything.

“Let's go, H. He doesn't deserve your attention.” She murmurs, rubbing his chest to calm him down. Sneaking his arm around her waist, Harry lead Y/N to his waiting car.

“Calm yourself or let me drive this beauty. We don't want to drive in anger, do we?” Y/N ask cheekily, trying to soften atmosphere because she still could feel Harry's panting breath. He said nothing while snatch the key from valet, walk quickly to the driver's side. Y/N huffed, smiling apologetically to the valet.

Silence fill the air during the drive, making Y/N a little worried. Even Harry doesn't turn on music as usual. Her worries getting worse when Harry start driving recklessly.

“Harry..” She try to call him, looked at him carefully.

No response.

“Harry, you're scaring me right now.”

His expression still raged, eyes on the road, knuckles hard on the wheel. He was silent like he's only one in the car, like she was not there.

“Jesus, Harry!” Tires screeching loudly when he hit the brakes in sudden motion. Y/N body was pushed forward, but held back by the safety belt. Y/N breathless for a second. Before she wants to throw a tantrum to Harry, she realised he was avoided another speeding car by getting out of the way.

Harry rest his forehead on the wheel, with his hands gripping tightly.

“Harry, it's okay.” She squeak, her hand rubbing his shoulder slowly, fingers feeling his stiff muscles. Slowly, stroking his hair, “Do you.. do you want to talk about what happened.. earlier?”

Five minutes passed until Harry open his mouth, “You know Machtig?” head still on the wheel. Keep stroking his hair, Y/N nods “You once told me before.”

“That fucker is working for Machtig. He was a friend from my school's day. And I.. I really.. really don't like him because of what he did to me years ago – even now. Seeing his face made me sick.” His deep voice spoke quickly, unlike he does usually.

“But,” Now, Harry lifted his head. Staring deeply at her, still with dark irises. “He's one of the people who made a Harry Styles like this.”

Y/N frowned, “You told me, Machtig was sold by your father's friend, didn't you? Is he related?”

Harry laughed, leaning his head on headrest. “I don't want to know. Not my fucking business. Every time Erskine was invited to a bid, Machtig always come along with that piece of shit as the negotiator.”

“I just hope that accident earlier wasn't taken advantage by him.”

“Don't fucking care.” He hissed, fingers tapping on the wheel. Then, his eyes bored into hers. Y/N start to feel awkward when he's hesitant to break his eye contact. “What's wrong, Harry?”

“You're so beautiful.” He whispered, thumbs stroking her cheeks.. then jaw.

“Thank.. you?” She stammered.

“He's very.. very lucky.”

He?

Harry's finger still wandering around her face, thumbs caressing her lips slowly. The air started to feel getting more intense, while Y/N began to be allured by Harry's soft touch. He slowly leaned in, pulling her chin until his lips touch hers. Y/N froze, eyes blinking. His hand cupped her jaw while the other still on her chin. She slowly closed her eyes, kissing him back, trusting him. It's getting way too intense while her arms grabbed his neck, deepening the kiss.

Harry bit her lips with hand rubbing her exposed thigh wildly. Y/N let out a soft moan when Harry was stroking her inner thigh, another hand caressing her bare back.

The car feel so hot as well as their body. One thing they knew, this could be lead to another way.

.

.