#hitman!sam wilson

[buckyconchesumare]

thinking about a hitman's bodyguard sambucky au

[eloisegrant]

Mission: Find Spector

Steven Grant x F!Reader (platonic for now); mentions of Marc Spector, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson

Summary: Avenger!Reader needs to locate a recent enigma during an incident in Cairo, Marc Spector. Unfortunately, he keeps calling himself Steven Grant.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, drugs, trauma etc.

You were part of Hydra since you were 11 years old. They tested on you, tried to understand you, trained you and provided shelter for you. They got close enough by letting you concentrate your powers but, the full potential… Yeah, not even close.

Growing up with powers has made childhood terrible for you. Even your own parents casted you out and called you a freak. Unfortunately , joining Hydra was the easiest way to use your atomkinesis capabilities for some sort of higher purpose. Although in hindsight, higher purpose was never always good.

But of course, when you came face to face with the Maximoff twins who turned to the side of SHIELD and the Avengers, something inside you triggered. Something inside you wanted to be better. To do better. Since the incident at Sokovia, you left Hydra and went undercover as a vigilante fighting your own battles, as well as saving people you thought needed it by following orders or leads. Pretty much a hitman but for people who deserve the boot.

After the Blip, you had met Captain Wilson and Sergeant Bucky at Madripoor, after meeting up with some clients. Chasing after them, noting that these familiar faces were part of the Avengers and you would love to join them. After seeing Tony Stark and the rest of the Avengers sacrifice their lives for the world, you gained more respect. The need to use your powers for good intensified.

“Sorry, remind me how you got your powers again?” Captain Wilson was baffled at your admission, from your past, your powers, all the way to your vigilante activities.

“I was born with it.”

“Born with it?” Bucky inquires.

“Yes.”

The two men stared back at disbelief. They had never met a mutant, only heard tales of people born with remarkable, godlike and inhumane powers. Mutant. Type of term like that was degrading and maybe that was the reason most of your kind hid behind a mask.

But they warmed up to you and eventually took you under their wing. They needed more people like you. Filled with hope and the need to help others. Your powers were just a plus, and they promised they’d help you understand the extent of it.

Its been 8 months since then, the three of you have formed an irrefutable bond. You even helped them fix up the Headquarters since you’ve earned more than enough money through your hidden work and Madripoor acts.

So as you entered the newly renovated Avengers Headquarters by the outskirts of New York, it felt like an acid trip. The airy and modern atmosphere was just enough to look homey and professional, all at once. As your heels clicked and clacked through the marble flooring, Captain Wilson calls out to you by the kitchen.

“Agent Snowflake, c’mere.” Sam jokingly calls you snowflake because of that one time you cried while playing monopoly. They cheated that night, no one fucking wins monopoly. You thought to yourself.

“Its- I’m not a damn snowflake, Sam.” You walked near to him as you roll your eyes. He hands you a smoothie and chuckles at your reaction.

“It’s Captain Wilson to you.” He pesters again, causing you to huff out. Immediately, he swipes a holographic screen right in front of you as you sat on the kitchen table.

You took a sip of the smoothie as Sam plops down next to you. It was an image of a man, who appears to be a soldier. Dark brooding eyes, dark locks and a stern expression. Handsome, sure. No idea why he was being shown to you, though. “What exactly am I looking at?” You shrug your shoulder while giving Sam the side eye.

“American Intelligence, Marc Spector.”

Again you took a loud sip from your smoothie, causing the plastic to squeak, and stayed silent. To be honest, it confused you because, why this was important?

Sam releases a sigh and proceeds to speak.

“He was last seen in Cairo at some excavation site. Thought to be dead after a rampage occured by someone from their group…” He lingers on. “….Till this, was caught in a Museum CCTV in London.” The screen flashes to a blurrier image of a man who was wearing a rugged jacket, messy hair and a weird stance.

“Okay, so? He isn’t dead. Big whoop. Why feel the need to tell me?” The unenthused tone of your voice was evident. You place your drink onto the table and cross your arms. Eyeing Sam as your eyebrows raise up.

“He knows something about the shit that happened in Cairo. Where dozens of scientists, GOOD scientists, paleontologists and whatever-the-fuck-gists, were brutally murdered.” He flashes images of a desert in Egypt filled with lifeless, bloody bodies. Both young and old. People with aspirations, goals, lives to live. All taken away. You felt a pang in your heart.

“We need to know what American blood was doing over there.” Sam looks at you with more seriousness in the tone of his voice. “And who we should approach to stop this.” His eyes were more genuine, and you knew what he was asking for.

“So you want me to get him… right?”

“Bingo.”

“Fine.” You stand up, stretching your arms above your head. “Send me all there is to know about Spector.” Sam smiles up at you, nodding at your tenacity. He knew you were going to be moved by the incident, and he knew you were the right person to send. Not like he had much of a choice but, you were the only viable one.

Hawkeye was nowhere to he found. So was Antman. Spiderman was god knows where, especially since no one knew who he actually was. Doctor Strange isn’t even an Avenger. Bruce went on some sort of vacation and Bucky… well let’s just say you’re the most viable.

~

Landing in London as an Avenger and not as a contractual assassin was kind of refreshing. Of course, you won’t walk around letting people know you’re an Avenger. But Goddamn, it does feel powerful.

You arrived at London around 11 AM. The museum was about a 10 minutes away from the AirBnB you were staying in, so everything was within reach.

As you got situated into your AirBnB, you quickly placed your baggage in the closet and grabbed the most easily accessible outfit. A pair of leggings and a hoodie.

Exitting the lobby of the flat, you made your way to the Museum. Trying to get there before the inevitable crowd of tourists crowd the place. You weren’t quite sure what you were going to try and prove if you came face to face with Spector. All you knew was, innocent people died and this man witnessed the attack.

Stepping up the tall steps that led to the museum, you were happy to know that there was no entrance fee. God knows museums, which are dedicated for learning, shouldn’t be charging. But alas, some still do. The world ain’t perfect.

You kept your eyes open. Ensuring that if you were to catch even a small sight of Marc Spector, you would get to him. But, of course— you gotta keep it lowkey. You moved pass the various pieces of art and artifacts. Finally deciding to stand in front of a Sarcophagus.

Damn, this thing’s golden. Your thoughts lingered as you pretended to care about the piece. Turning around from time to time to spot Spector, and looking back at the writing describing the Sarcophagus.

“Ahh, yes. That’s an interesting piece.”

A voice interrupts your fake acting, making you jolt to your right in order to see the stranger.

“That there is a sarcophagus. Pharaohs were often laid to rest there but only once all their organs, except the heart, were taken out.” It was him. Dressed up in a beige jacket and a funky shirt. The face you’ve been studying for the past few days and the person Captain Wilson wants you to track. Right here, talking to you.

“Uh-“ You stutter out, pure shock covering your face. You look down to his chest and see his nametag. Steven. What? But, this was Marc Spector. It had to be. Those rugged features couldn’t be a simple similarilty.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He almost backs away but you pull his sleeve gently.

“No, no, please. Um… why do they leave the heart?” In order to get a picture to study later tonight, you needed him to stay and keep near. You adjusted your hoodie slightly for the nano camera to capture his face. Sideways and frontal view.

“Oh, cause they’ll be judged by their hearts which will decide whether they enter the field of reeds!” He was so chipper. And British as hell. American Intelligence. That’s who Spector was, but this man is British as ever. Maybe its his twin? You debated on whether you should ask him or not, but your thoughts get interrupted

“Steven! What are you doin’? Get back to the shop!” A blonde lady screams from his back which causes the man to close his eyes tight, apologizing to you.

“Sorry, I’m not a tour guide, sadly.” He points to the gift shop and shyly bows his head down.

“No? You sound like you know your stuff.” You complimented the guy and pat him lightly on his shoulder. Praying to God you got the correct pictures to run through and compare on the computer later

“Thanks, it’s cause I like-“

“STEVEN!”

“I-I gotta go. Sorry again!” He shouts as he runs off to the direction of the blonde woman who looked like he was going to bite his head off.

At that moment in time, everything froze and you felt like you met a fork in the road. You needed to head back to the AirBnB and find out what the hell and who the hell this was.

~

Stepping back into your rented out apartment, you phoned Sam while setting up the computer to run data analysis through the pictures you got.

“Y/n? What’s the situation?” Sam beams in through. You put the phone on the side while pressing the speaker mode.

“Uh… met a speedbump.” You injected the nano camera to the side of the laptop and uploaded the images to compare Marc Spector and mystery man, Steven.

“How big of a speedbump we talking about?” You could hear Sam pacing back and forth.

“So I met a man who looks precisely like Spector in the museum…” Your photo uploads and the facial recognition analysis tool finally began to run its course. “…but it was not… Marc Spector...” The program completes the analysis.

Similarity: 100%

“Yeah? Hello?” Sam beckons, confused why you turned silent.

Shocked, all you could do was try and understand the situation. But you only came onto one conclusion. You were bamboozled. Marc Spector probably knew you were headed his way and placed a co-worker’s nametag and left it at that. Or he could have legally changed his name and faked an accent. You weren’t sure anymore. “Cap I’m sending you something.” With a few taps on the keyboard, the information on Spector’s whereabouts was exposed.

“Got it.” He was probably looking at the data because all you heard was, “Goddamn, what is he hiding from..?”

“No idea.”

“You gotta confront him. He gets off work at around 5 according to the footage.” You hear a few clicks from the laptop on Sam’s side.

“Right.” You look at the watch 4:45, “Better get going then.” After Sam’s pleasant goodbyes, the call ended.

Instead of opting for a more casual attire, you wore your work suit. Nothing fancy, it was just a dark blue suit that was made of thick, bullet proof material. It hugged your body tight in all the right places to ensure maximum movement. You wished you didn’t have to use your powers tonight.

~

You stood by the bushes on the side of the museum. Waiting for the so-called, Steven, to walk by. It was 5:06 PM, and he should be here, any minute now. And as if on cue, you spot the man again with his bag draped over his shoulder. Quickly you slid to his feet, causing him to trip over onto the concrete floor. You grabbed him by the legs to drag him behind the bushes, avoiding a crowd. Though, there was barely anyone there, it wasn’t worth the chance.

You pinned him onto the grassy ground and placed your arm on his chest. “Okay, Spector, no more funny games. Why are you hiding? What happened in Cairo?” He was in shock, shaking, startled at the suddenness.

“Wh-what??” He mutters out, trying his best. His eyes flicker, keeping his gaze on you. As if he was trying to focus on who you were. To his surprise, you were the one who complimented him earlier that day. And now, you were about to hurt him or something. “Say, you were the nice lady in the museum! This is a far cry from being nice, lady!”

“Oh quit the accent! Tell me the truth Marc Spector-“

“Sorry, what did you call me?” His question makes you pause.

“Marc. Spector.” You nearly choke over your words because you couldn’t believe this man was still pretending.

“You’re-you’re not the first person who called me that- but I’m sorry, lady. I am Steven Grant. Not Marc.” Your pin on him got softer because the look on his face sincere. It was quite genuine and your mind was stuck. If he wasn’t Marc, the facial recognition program may be faulty or something. But, that’s impossible.

You plopped to his side, sitting beside him. Desperate to arrive onto a proper answer, because this was not making any sense. “You gotta help me here, Steven…” you use the name he constantly repeated. “Marc Spector shares your face, and we need Marc Spector. It’s impossible that you two don’t have a link.”

He sits up beside you and tries to look at you, but a part of him is still afraid since you were nearly choking him awhile ago. “I-I can tell you what I know.”

“You know something?” Grabbing him by the shoulders makes Steven flinch a bit but he calms down.

“Yes…” He stands up and fixes his bag, as you followed his actions. He got a better view of what you were wearing and was genuinely terrified. You looked like you were some secret agent of some sort. “…do you work for the FBI?” He gestures to your attire.

“Uh… Something like that, sure.” You balanced yourself in between your feet. “So, the thing you know…”

“Right, it’s in my flat…” In order to help you not look like a fish out of water during the walk to his flat, he removes his jacket and hands it over to you. “Put this on.”

“Oh-um… thanks.” Carefully, you grab the jacket and wear it. Now your attire just looks like a big jacket and some shiny ass jeans.

“Yeah, now… Follow me.” Steven makes his way back to the main streets, as you follow behind. You typed a quick message to Sam letting him know you’re gathering intel and will send him updates soon.

You weren’t sure what this Steven guy would know about Marc Spector, but since they shared the same face— there had to be something more to it. So all that was left to do was wait.

-✨-

Part 2

[stuckybingo]

Stucky Bingo Round-Up #18 (February 5th - 11th)

Don’t forget to fill out the submission form to be a part of the round-ups and to get your bingo badges!

Till It Bleeds Daylight (Chapter 5) by cable-knit-sweater Square filled: N1 - Minor Injuries Ao3 rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: AU: Detectives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hitman Bucky, Undercover Detective Steve Summary: The mission Bucky gets sent on does not go as planned. Format: Part of a multichapter fic

Till It Bleeds Daylight (Chapter 4) by cable-knit-sweater Square filled: N4 - Looking After Each Other Ao3 rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: AU: Detectives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hitman Bucky, Undercover Detective Steve Summary: Bucky has a nightmare, Steve wonders about what he's hiding. Steve finds out what Hydra has planned. Format: Part of a multichapter fic

I do. by cable-knit-sweater Square filled: G2 - "I read about you in a museum." Ao3 rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Angst, Bucky’s notebooks, memory loss Summary: He keeps them like treasures, each and every single one of them. The ones from earlier, months ago, read like not more than the ramblings of a mad man, words scribbled over and over, sometimes with painstaking effort to hold a pen or pencil without his hand trembling, with seemingly no intent behind it except to get them out of his head and onto paper, like he’ll feel less haunted that way. He doesn’t, not really, but it helps, at least for a little while, and at this point, that’s allhe can ask for. Format: Short oneshot (300 - 1000 words)

Till It Bleeds Daylight by cable-knit-sweater Square filled: G5 - Dr Abraham Erskine Ao3 rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: AU: Detectives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hitman Bucky Barnes, Undercover Detective Steve Summary: Steve has to choose between going after Bucky and taking down Hydra. Format: Part of a multichapter fic

Red, White & Blue by cable-knit-sweater Square filled: O3 - Patriot Ao3 rating: Mature Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: shrunkyclunks, humor, wrong number shenanigans Summary: Steve goes on live tv for one of his first interviews post-ice. He’s nervous enough as it is. The texts from an unknown number he receives while on air, that get more explicit by the second, definitely don’t help. Bucky is very horny and thinks he’s pestering a friend, but he’s really texting captain america. Format: Medium oneshot (1000 - 5000 words)

It Always Ends In A Fight by singthebeginningofmoana Square filled: G1 - motorbike Ao3 rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply, watermelon Major tags: Angst, Set during Civil War Summary: Bucky's thoughts as he's about to be captured. Format: Medium oneshot (1000 - 5000 words)

Avengers... Assemblé by sparkagrace Square filled: B3 - team cap Ao3 rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: ballet au, team cap, moodboard, established relationship, brief mentions of racism and abusive practices Summary: Welcome to Team Cap Ballet Studio, a contemporary ballet school in the heart of Brooklyn run by married couple, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. They're joined by Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton and Scott Lang. Format: Moodboard (460 words)

Even Sugar Daddies Needs Daddies by Buckybeardreams Square filled: N5 - Kink: sugar daddy Ao3 rating: Mature Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Stuckony, sugar daddy, daddy kink, age play Summary: When Steve gets a Sugar Daddy to help with the bills, no one expects his sugar daddy to hit it off with his daddy. Format: Part of a multichapter fic

You're All I Ever Wanted by Buckybeardreams Square filled: N3 - Free Square Ao3 rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Alpha/Omega Summary: Bucky was raised to be a gentle Alpha, to never invite himself into an Omega's nest, but he struggles when he comes to the tower, struggles because Steve isn't an Omega anymore, and Bucky doesn't know how to handle that. Format: Medium oneshot (1000 - 5000 words)

Too Cool For You by Buckybeardreams Square filled: I4 - 7 minutes in Heaven Ao3 rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage, extremely dubious consent, rape/non-con elements, past sexual abuse, unhealthy relationships, pseudo-incest, homophobic language, bullying, underage drinking and drug-use Major tags: high school au, S&M, degradation, humiliation Summary: High school comes with a strict set of social rules that dictate who you can talk to, who you definitely can't be seen with, and who you definitely shouldn't go out with. But things start to get complicated when members of opposing groups start to mingle. Steve's in love with his ex-best friend turned bully, Clint's falling for the town bad boy, Ian and Bruce won't confirm or deny their relationship status, and Brock is definitely not pining over the quarterback. There's no shortage of drama for these friends, foes, and lovers as their lives tangle together and things get messy like bed sheets after a drunken night of mistakes. Format: Part of a multichapter fic

You're everything I ever wanted by Reagi-jay Square filled: O3 - Kink: Car Sex Ao3 rating: Mature Warnings: No archive warnings apply, (these are all minor) implied child abuse, implied homophobic, implied alcoholic abuse Major tags: car sex, Bucky Barnes is a tease, protective Steve Rogers, alternative universe - high school Summary: He can’t recall how long they’ve been dancing around each other. He’s looked, he knows he shouldn’t have but ever since Steve knew what it felt like to kiss a man, he can't help but think what it would have felt like to kiss Bucky. The way his lean, muscular body moves when he stretches. The look in his eyes and the way he smiles like a dare. It's everything he didn’t know he wanted; no, needed. Format: Medium oneshot (1000 - 5000 words)

Into this night I wander (It's morning that I dread) by hanitrash Square filled: G3 - Red Skull Ao3 rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/non-con, Tentacle Monster Red Skull, non-con, oviposition Major tags: bottom steve, steve is having a Very Bad Time, hurt no comfort, steve whump Summary: Steve gets captured by HYDRA and learns more about Johann Schmidt than he ever wanted to know Format: Short oneshot (300 - 1000 words)

six months and counting by sparkagrace Square filled: N3 - free space Ao3 rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: established relationship, modern au, fluff, declarations of love Summary: Steve never really thought that sitting around a table, or doing the dishes, or lazy making out on the couch would feel so much. His entire insides constantly feel gooey because it doesn’t matter if Bucky’s apologizing about his parents’ invasive questions, or rubbing his head after a day full of meetings, or poking a toe against Steve’s ribs and complaining that he’s bored. He's just in love — Steve is waiting until their six month anniversary to tell Bucky he loves him. Waiting is the hardest part... Format: Long oneshot (over 5000 words)

It Wasn’t Your Fault by singthebeginningofmoana Square filled: B2 - hugs Ao3 rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply, panic attacks Major tags: Hurt/Comfort, Bucky Barnes Recovering Summary: Steve does his best to help when Bucky has panic attacks. Format: Short oneshot (300 - 1000 words)

I Had Bucky by singthebeginningofmoana Square filled: N2 - 1940s Ao3 rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Pre-Movie: Captain America: The First Avenger (2011), Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort Summary: Steve gets sick again, and Bucky does his best to look after him despite Steve's protests. Format: Short oneshot (300 - 1000 words)

[prismuffin]

Fandoms/Characters I write for:

-

Marvel:

-

-Tony Stark

-Steve Rogers

-Bruce Banner

-Clint Barton

-Natasha Romanoff

-Wanda Maximoff

-Yelena Belova

-Kate Bishop

-Sam Wilson

-Bucky Barnes

-Scott Lang

-Loki Laufeyson

-Thor Odinson

-Heimdall

-Peter Parker (any version)

-Miles Morales

-Gwen Stacy

-Hobie Brown

-Pavitr Prabhakar

-Peter Quill

-Stephen Strange

-T'challa Udaku

-Shuri

-M’Baku

-K'uk'ulkan // Namor

-MoonKnight System (all three or Individual)

-any of the guardians (GOTG)

-

Stranger Things:

-

-Robin Buckley (fem!reader only)

-Steve Harrington

-Eddie Munson

-Dustin Henderson

-Lucas Sinclair

-Max Mayfield

-

The Umbrella Academy:

-

-Luther Hargreeves

-Allison Hargreeves

-Diego Hargreeves

-Klaus Hargreeves

-Five Hargreeves

-Ben Hargreeves (Brelly Ver.)

-Viktor Hargreeves

-Marcus Hargreeves

-Ben Hargreeves (Sparrow Ver.)

-Fei Hargreeves

-Alphonso Hargreeves

-Sloane Hargreeves

-Jayme Hargreeves

-

Criminal Minds:

-

-Aaron Hotchner

-David Rossi (mostly platonic but I can write romantic for him)

-Derek Morgan

-Spencer Reid

-Luke Alvez

-Matt Simmons

-Tara Lewis

-Penelope Garcia

-Emily Prentiss

-Jennifer Jareau

-

Hitman Trilogy:

-

-Agent 47

-Lucas Grey

-

Mission: Impossible:

-

-Ethan Hunt

-Benji Dunn

-Luther Stickell

-William Brandt

-August Walker

-

FarCry 5:

-

-Jacob Seed

-Joseph Seed

-John Seed

-Sharky Boshaw

-Nick Rye (can write poly Nick Rye and Kim)

-Deputy

-

Valorant:

-

-Brimstone (mostly platonic but can write romantic)

-Phoenix

-Jett

-Neon

-Cypher

-Sova

-Chamber

-Harbor

-Omen

-Fade

-Sage

-Breach

-Killjoy

-Raze

-Yoru

-Gekko

-

Detroit Become Human:

-

-Connor (Rk800)

-Markus

-Kara

-Hank Anderson (Platonic or Romantic)

-Luther

-Elijah Kamski

-Ralph

-

Our Life Beginnings & Always:

-

-Cove Holden

-Cliff Holden (platonic or romantic)

-Kyra Preece (platonic or romantic)

-Poly!Noelani & Pamela

-Elizabeth Last

-Lee Last

-Derek Suarez

-Baxter Ward

-Nicholas (Nico) Suarez

-

Error 143:

-

Micah Yujin

-

Sally Face:

-

-Sal Fisher

-Larry Johnson

-

WatchDogs Trilogy:

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-Aiden Pearce

-Marcus Holloway

-Wrench

-Sitara

-Josh

-Raymond Kennedy

-

COD: Modern Warfare 2:

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-John Price

-Simon “Ghost” Riley

-Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

-John “Soap” McTavish

-Gary “Roach” Sanderson

-Alejandro Vargas

-Rodolfo Parra

-Phillip Graves

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The Imperfects:

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-Abbi Singh

-Tilda Webber

-Juan Ruiz

-Dr. Alex Sarkov

-

Encanto:

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-Camilo

-Luisa

-Isabela

-Mirabel

-Bruno

-Dolores

-Poly!Agustin & Julieta (Romantic or Platonic)

-Poly!Felix & Pepa (Romantic or Platonic)

-Antonio (Only Platonic)

-

Girl From Nowhere:

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-Nanno

-

Metal Lords:

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-Hunter Sylvester

-Kevin Schlieb

-Emily

———

If you wish to request a character that isn’t here feel free to!!

I’ll probably still write for them! But if I don’t I’ll let you know why!

[ao3feed-stevebucky]

The Trickster

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/6uqhWkS

by BadHidingSpot

Loki, Shuri, and Bucky, three best friends and grifters set out to make a name for themselves and put together a crew. Loki’s father gums up the works when he fakes his own death and needs Loki’s help to complete a job. This become even worse for Loki when he reunites with his childhood sweetheart Thor during a job -- the son of his father's arch theater rival Odin. Shuri is trying to deal with her secret cousin while designing the heist that will take her from apprentice to master thief. Bucky is trying to hide and keep his friends safe from their last mark, Steve Rogers, who is possibly a retired hitman for the mob, that has followed Bucky across the country to kill him. The worst part about that is Bucky is in love with the homicidal maniac.

Set on the backdrop of a 1990s Summer on the beach being gay and doing crime.

Words: 14132, Chapters: 1/26, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Black Panther (2018)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Loki, Thor (Marvel), Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Shuri (Marvel), Peter Parker, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Monica Rambeau, Laufey (Marvel), Sif (Marvel), Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel), Erik Killmonger, Hela (Marvel)

Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker/Shuri

Additional Tags: 90s AU, Heist, be gay do crime, Bad Parenting, Narcissism, Con Artists, Actors, Boats, the beach, The Sting 1973, Found Family, theater dads, Mistaken Identity, queeriod piece, Inspired by the Ocean's Eleven Trilogy (Movies), Inspired by Ocean's 8 (2018), Trans Male Loki (Marvel), Trans Peter Parker

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/6uqhWkS

[ao3feed-thor]

The Trickster

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Aq21KCW

by BadHidingSpot

Loki, Shuri, and Bucky, three best friends and grifters set out to make a name for themselves and put together a crew. Loki’s father gums up the works when he fakes his own death and needs Loki’s help to complete a job. This become even worse for Loki when he reunites with his childhood sweetheart Thor during a job -- the son of his father's arch theater rival Odin. Shuri is trying to deal with her secret cousin while designing the heist that will take her from apprentice to master thief. Bucky is trying to hide and keep his friends safe from their last mark, Steve Rogers, who is possibly a retired hitman for the mob, that has followed Bucky across the country to kill him. The worst part about that is Bucky is in love with the homicidal maniac.

Set on the backdrop of a 1990s Summer on the beach being gay and doing crime.

Words: 14132, Chapters: 1/26, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Black Panther (2018)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Loki, Thor (Marvel), Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Shuri (Marvel), Peter Parker, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Monica Rambeau, Laufey (Marvel), Sif (Marvel), Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel), Erik Killmonger, Hela (Marvel)

Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker/Shuri

Additional Tags: 90s AU, Heist, be gay do crime, Bad Parenting, Narcissism, Con Artists, Actors, Boats, the beach, The Sting 1973, Found Family, theater dads, Mistaken Identity, queeriod piece, Inspired by the Ocean's Eleven Trilogy (Movies), Inspired by Ocean's 8 (2018), Trans Male Loki (Marvel), Trans Peter Parker

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Aq21KCW

[shurisneakers]

shut in [epilogue]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: anxiety, ptsd, swearing

Word count: 4k

A/N: annnnd we’re done :)) thank you to my resident bully @midnightsunfae for really getting this fic off the ground and helping with the planning. ily upo and thank you to everyone who’s read this series over the 5 months it’s been going on. it’s meant the absolute world to me :’)

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, an indicator of the nervousness that was building to a crescendo in your chest.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked, hand placed gently on your forearm.

You nodded, eyes downcast. If you looked at him, you wouldn’t be able to find it in yourself to follow through with it.

“I am,” you said quietly, swallowing to get rid of the lump in your throat.

“Okay,” he confirmed, letting his arm drop gently.

Ten minutes to go. You took a sip of water nervously. The glass had already found itself shifting back and forth on the table in search of the perfect place. It was a fruitless quest anyway.

The door was painted a dark green, steps leading up to it from the pavement.

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” you asked quietly, standing a stair below him in apprehension. Neither of you had contacted him or sent a message, just showed up at his place exhausted and covered in a thin layer of dirt.

“I know he won’t.” Sam raised his fist to knock thrice, a pause before knocking two more times.

A code.

He turned around slightly, checking to see if you were fine. The longer you stood out there, the more afraid you were of someone spotting the both of you, putting an end to your life before it even began. You had a feeling that paranoia would continue for a long time.

The door swung open, revealing a tall man with blonde hair leaning against the doorway with one arm. There was a nick above his eyebrow, an old scar that hadn’t faded over time. Even though his other hand was concealed behind the door, you could tell that he was holding something by the way his muscles were clenched. Years of training wouldn’t disappear overnight.

"Sam." Surprise overtook his face in a second. "You're alive."

"Don't sound so happy, I can't handle it." Sam rolled his eyes, an affectionate smile on his face. "This is Y/N, we need a place to stay."

“It’s just been a while since I heard from you, man. Coming from a hit?” Riley didn’t think twice about moving aside, scrutinising dried blood on your person as you walk past. “Nice to meet you, I’m Riley.”

It was a cane in his hand. Sam’s mention of his limp flashed in your mind.

You gave him a small wave and a quiet re-introduction of yourself, following Sam into the house.

“You could say that.” Sam paused, a hand on Riley’s shoulder as he says something out of your ear shot to him.

Riley’s face turned stoic immediately, a nod of his head and a deep exhale soon following. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” You pressed your lips together in a straight line with a corner quirked upwards, a half smile of sorts.

“Bathroom’s down the hall, to the right.” He pointed out the direction. “I’m getting you some food. Gumbo still your thing, Wilson?”

“Anything other than peanut butter.”

Riley was a blessing you could have never prepared for; knowing exactly what you both would need and anticipating emotions you had no idea you’d be feeling. For someone who had guests show up completely uninvited to crash on his couch, he was ready as ever, given that he had been through the same thing a while ago.

It was difficult. Fuck that, it was one of the hardest things to go; not pretending like everything around you would fall into soon and that you would be fine because you had to. You had worked too damn hard for you not to be.

But you knew things weren’t going to be fine right off the bat and it would be foolish to think it was.

“Sam, look at me,” you commanded gently, but there was an edge of firmness to your tone. You were sitting on the bench near the entrance of the park.

“I’m sorry, things were going good and I thought-” He shook his face that was hiding in his palm, elbows resting on his knees.

His attacks didn’t come nearly as frequently as yours. It was easy to think that he had no trauma just because he learnt how to deal with it better.

“Look at me, Sammy.” It was just a walk in the park, a stroll that should have lasted twenty minutes tops. You had been on that trail before for the same purpose but something triggered him today, someone’s gaze who lingered too long on the both of you.

He clenched his fists, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“Breathe with me.” You exaggerated the movements to have him follow, a system the both of you had come up with when anxiety attacks used to hit at random. A temporary solution to an aftermath that would go on for hours, days even.

It took him a few staggered breaths to get there, finally falling into routine with you. He could feel his heartbeat slow to what it was but the pit in his stomach wouldn’t subside for a while.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” you reassured, still making sure he was breathing with you. You were nervous too and your eyes were still darting about to survey your surroundings, but he needed you at that moment. “We’re safe. We’re okay.”

“No one’s here,” he mumbles, interlacing your fingers and bringing it to his forehead to lean against your hand.

“We’re okay,” you repeated, giving him the space he needed. “We’re okay.”

“Will someone be joining you?” The waiter prodded softly. If it wasn’t your incessant tapping at the table, the clammy palms and constant checking of your watch was a clear giveaway that you could use a bit of kindness that day.

“Yeah, any minute now.” You smiled at her. She simply nodded, refilling your glass of water before leaving you alone.

You looked at your watch and sighed.

Seven minutes.

Things were fine. Things were good.

Sam and you were… undefined. Labels almost seemed too constrictive for now and it wasn’t like the both of you didn’t know what the other felt. It was kind. It was soft. Sometimes you kissed his cheek when the sunlight bounced off his face while he watered the succulents and the smile he gave you was addictive. Other times he snaked an arm around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulder while you watched the street from the kitchen window.

It made you happy, and so you tried to force away the stem of doubt that creeped into your heart.

Riley had introduced the concept of movie nights and the occasional mob movie would make it in there just to poke fun at. He showed you around the city, inviting you to go grocery shopping with him at the farmers market, the best places to get a glimpse of the music scene or to subtly point out potential date night spots.

He was a genuinely nice guy, and if you thought Sam was fun to hang out with, you were not prepared for the both of them together. You could tell why Sam adored him.

“Y/N, I don’t know how you stayed with him for all that time and didn’t murder him in his sleep.” Riley glared at Sam who had once again left his collection of music CDs strewn around on a couch. It was all in jest; it was well known that Sam found an anchor in music that kept him up late at night for a sense of calm.

“It was a close call sometimes,” you added playfully, giving Sam a grin.

“You weren’t exactly easy to survive with either.” He scoffed. “How many times did we watch Megamind in a row? Eight?”

“You wouldn’t stop watching Die Hard,” you accused, arms crossed over your chest. “It was payback.”

“You made the rule saying we couldn’t watch things more than twice in a row and you broke it first.”

“I’m gonna go,” Riley interjected. “But y’all keep at this. I heard it’s good for your soul.”

“Stay there,” Sam demanded, pointing to where he was standing a second ago. “You’re gonna be play judge since you started this shit.”

“I really don’t want to.” He shook his head, staying put nonetheless, amusement clear as day on his face.

“The laundry.”

“The dishes.”

You both narrowed your eyes at each other. His argument didn’t hold a match to yours.

“You know what, I was wrong,” Riley announced to no one in particular. “I’m pretty sure you guys would kill each other under any other circumstance.”

The smile on your face faltered but you straightened it back out with a clearing of your throat before firing a comeback.

It was barely a second, almost unnoticeable. But Sam caught it.

Four minutes.

Almost time.

The tapping became more intense, and the rate at which you pulled out your phone to check the time increased.

Fuck, this was a bad idea. How were you supposed to behave with him after all this time?

Something was wrong. Something was off.

Sam wasn’t blind to it. He could see it under the smile you eased into at game night, the complaining when too much food was ordered for three people to eat, the good natured teasing when he rolled over to your side of the bed at night to steal your blanket.

Something was eating at you, gnawing at you from the inside.

His suspicion was confirmed when you whispered at 2am one night to what you thought was an asleep partner that you wanted to move out. Find a place of your own.

His stomach dropped instantly but he didn’t so much as move a muscle.

“I need to get out. I need to have a life,” you sniffed, doing your best not to wake him up as you traced circles into his skin lightly. “I don’t know what it’s like to be independent. I won’t know unless I figure it out myself.”

The air had a chill to it and it was one of the times you had asked him to sleep in the guest bedroom with you instead of on his own, knowing that it was one of those nights where you could use a little extra warmth.

“Even when we were in there I couldn’t stop thinking about whether this thing between us was just because we were forced to stay together. You said it wasn’t, and I know that but I can’t help but think-” Your voice cracked. “Would you come back to me if things were different?”

He didn’t answer, even though he knew what he wanted to say with all the certainty in the world. Your fingers continued to draw on his skin. He continued to let you.

Sam didn’t even bring up the conversation that morning, or that week. Instead, he held you a bit closer whenever he could and gave you the space to hopefully open up to him on your own time, letting you know that he’d be there to listen.

It took a while. You both were in the middle of watching a movie that wasn’t Die Hard when you told him that you needed to talk to him about something. The hesitancy in your voice and the fixation your fingers had with the hem of your sweater was painful to witness.

He understood, of course. He always did. That you needed to experience what it was like to live, not survive. That decades of living with other kids, living under an abuser, living in a safehouse for months, was restrictive and suffocating and you needed to find what made you happy.

And so did he. It was something both of you had to do eventually, exit the bubble you had been staying in under such ardent protection for those two months.

Riley was wonderfully supportive of it, vowing to find you the best apartment that New Orleans had to offer. You didn’t doubt it.

His place had been colourful and bright and everything you could have asked for after the monotone walls you were used to. But it wasn’t yours.

A few weeks later you had moved out. Sam left a lingering kiss on your forehead, a sign to say that he’d be here whenever, whatever.

You made a Shakira joke. He laughed.

A completely fresh new start. If you failed now, it was all on you.

And what a terrifying thought that was.

It had been four months since you had left Riley’s apartment behind.

Four months since you had seen either of them.

The cafe was starting to feel too small for this event. Too intimate, too-

When the bell above the cafe chimes, something at the back of your mind instantly wakes up, sending you on high alert.

“Y/N?” he called out from behind you.

You knew he’d be early.

“Sam.” You breathed out, standing up to face him.

Video calls didn’t do him any justice. He had a particular glow to him, an aura of confidence that wasn’t there the last time you saw him. His beard was neatly trimmed and the smile that tugged at his lips the minute you caught his eye was beautiful.

You didn’t realise how different he looked until the time apart. Months of makeshift workouts and peanut butter as your only source of protein had done a number on him. You remembered him being leaner, and what you now realised was the constant burden of fatigue on his face.

“You look good.” An understatement escaped you, but he did.

He had a deep blue shirt on that hugged him in all the right places. Months of seeing him only black and grey had you damn near drooling when he wore other colours after you got out.

Not that you were staring, but his biceps had definitely made a wonderful return.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Sam sent you a smile that instantly put you at ease. “Independence looks good on you, sweetheart.”

You gave a small laugh, gesturing for him to take a seat. Should you have hugged him? Shook his hand? Kissed hi-

“It’s been a while,” he politely interrupted your overthinking. “How are things going?”

You let out a small breath. It was a big question, one that you had answered over text and call a few times but it was different now. He was in front of you now and you couldn’t bullshit the way you used to on call occasionally.

“Weird,” you admitted. “I don’t know what to do with myself now that I have all this time.”

“It takes some gettin’ used to.” He nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair.

A lot of your time went into trying new hobbies. Knitting, pottery, drawing- anything that you could get your hands on. Things didn’t always catch on, some discarded just after the first week. Others stuck, bringing you bits of triumph every time you moved forward with your newfound skill.

“You still seein’ your therapist?” He flashed a smile at the waitress who filled his glass of water.

Ah, yes. Dr. Bishop had been one of the first people you sought out.

“Yeah.” You took a sip of water. “See her weekly.”

You still had money left over from all the hit jobs that you had done. As much as you wanted to leave every inkling of that life behind, you needed the cash to live. You had enough for the time being, but you knew that eventually you had to start working; if not for the money then for the peace of mind.

“How’s that goin’?”

“She thinks I talk in elaborate metaphors. The gang’s what I call my toxic family, he was my abusive father, stuff like that.”

There were moments where you thought you saw someone you knew standing at a corner, vendors giving you icy looks from across the street, footsteps outside your door that seemed too damn loud. But nothing ever came of it.

“Thanks for the tip, by the way.” You extended a smile to him in appreciation for the idea.

“Worked with my therapist, figured it would be the same with yours.” He shrugged casually. It wasn’t like you wanted to lie to her, and you weren’t. But some things were better left in the dark.

“But I think it’s helping.” You exhaled deeply, eyes downcast. “The nightmares are reducing.”

“That’s a lot of progress.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward in pride.

Several feelings erupted from that look, some that you’d spend the whole day revelling in if you didn’t force yourself to move on.

“How about you?” you diverted the subject back to him. “How’s Riley?”

“He says he misses ya.” Sam laughed. “Says he can’t handle me alone, that he needs you back to save him.”

“What have you been doing to that poor man?” you teased, easing back into your seat. “He was fine when I left him.”

“He’s got a fancy new job now and it’s been going to his head. Needed a little humbling.”

“You’re not going too hard on him, are you?” Even though you knew he wasn’t, it was fun to make sure.

“Nah, I’d say it’s just about the right amount.” Sam grinned and you felt the familiar flutter return to your stomach. “I’ve been doing good. Working on getting my license.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that going?” You were thrilled when he said he was going to look into becoming a youth counselor, knowing that it was something he had been genuinely wanting to do for ages.

“With my background, or lack of it, it’s a little trickier than I thought it would be,” he divulges a bit more seriously. “Riley’s been pulling a few strings and I got a few contacts but it’s gonna take some more time.”

You bit your lip, worry rising for him. He deserved it, he earned it. It fucking sucked that it wasn’t going to be an easy, direct path.

“We’ll figure it out,” you said quietly, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his in reassurance.

The contact brings with it a small spark. You wondered if he still felt it.

“Yeah. We will.” He sent you a soft smile at your action, not making any effort to move it. “You been on any dates lately?”

You let out a snort at that. “Loads. Have fellas lining up at every corner for me.”

“I bet.” He’s more bold, a bit more open than he was in the first month when you both got out. “How many of them do I have to fight off?”

“I’d say six as a rough estimate.” Your expression mimicked one of consideration. “I hope you’ve been getting your hours in at the gym.”

“I’ll kick it up a notch,” he promised, hands raised in surrender.

“You better. We’re supposed to go for laser-tag.” A dumb callback to a joke he made on one of your last days there.

“Or paintball.” He remembered. It made you unnecessarily giddy. “I added an escape room to the list too.”

“Hilarious,” you fired at him, rolling your eyes slightly but the happiness on your face proved otherwise.

His laughter died down eventually, paving the way for the comfortable silence that lingered between you both. Your eyes fell down to where your hand still held his, biting your lip to conceal a smile.

“Y/N,” he called out, pulling your gaze back to his. “Jokes aside… how are you?”

You let out a breath at his question. You knew it was coming.

“Riley found me an apartment,” you murmured.

Sam looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”

“It’s a nice place. Lots of sunlight. Quiet too.” You toyed with your fingers. “But it’s about an hour away. More if you consider traffic.”

Sam set his phone down gently on the bedside table, indicating that you had his full attention.

“I don’t want you to think I’m abandoning you, because I’m not. I wouldn’t, I just-”

“Hey,” he interrupted calmly, twisting his body to face you. “I don’t think you’re abandoning me. If this is what you need, then you should do it.”

“I don’t know if this is what I need. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never been-” the frustration in your voice only increased as you went on. “-I don’t even know if this is going to work. What if I hate it?”

“Finding out what you hate is just as important as what you like, I think.” He watched you toy with the fidget square he had gotten you. “And you know that if you don’t feel like it, then you can come back here at any moment.”

“I know.” It was a comforting thought. A safety net.

“But would this make you happy?” That caught you by surprise.

It wasn’t something you had thought of. You thought of the negative consequences, the devastating effects it could have on you, how it could be the worst possible decision you’d ever make.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, a new anxiety setting in. “I guess we’ll see.”

You liked the neighbours who played the piano way too loud at 2am, the really terrible coffee at the therapist’s office and the feeling the paper plane on your dresser gave you when you occasionally looked at it.

You didn’t like how hot the apartment could get, especially during the afternoon, or the guy who sold magazines down the street who cursed at everyone for no reason, or the gentrified Indian food they served at the mall.

But Sam was right. Figuring out what you didn’t like was just as beautiful a journey as figuring out what you did.

“I’m happy.” You breathed out. “Or I'm working towards being happy. But it’s there.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. Simply slipped his palm under yours to lift your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m proud of you.”

If anyone could feel the heat that rose to your face they would probably think you had a fever.

The fear that you had, the one of what things would be like if you weren’t forced to survive in a confined space together, had begun to fade the minute he called out your name that day.

It was Sam. Your Sam.

You shake yourself out of your train of thought with a small smile, making a move to gather up your belongings without letting go of his hand for a second.

“Well, c’mon then. Those paintballs aren’t going to shoot themselves.”

“Are you saying this is a date?” There was a smirk on his face that wasn’t there a minute ago.

“Would you still consider it one once I annihilate you?” You tilted your head in a challenge.

“That would never happen, first of all.” He scoffed. “Second… I was thinking that maybe we could do something normal for a change.”

That had you more interested than the prospect of adventure sports. You had enough of it for a lifetime, frankly speaking.

“Lead the way, Cinnamon.” He only rolled his eyes at the nickname, sending you a vaguely threatening look. You just laughed.

“This place got good coffee?” He looked around at the establishment and its patrons.

“One of the best.”

“Then I don’t see why we have to go anywhere else,” he offered and you nodded, relaxing back into your place with the same sense of warmth in your heart that only intensified with his proposal.

He raised his hand up to flag the server, the same girl who had been helping you out since you got there, asking for two menus.

The smile he sent her was infectious. It was good.

“Sam,” you began quietly. “I missed you.”

His eyes softened, the sunlight reflecting in it making it shine like dravite. “I missed you, too.”

“Ready to order?” The waitress stands beside you with a notepad.

He looked at you and you nodded with a smile.

Things were different. You were different.

And he still came back to you.

--fin--

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <3

thank you so much for reading!

[sumbacky]

captain america civil war deleted scene 

[prison-mikes-bandana]

After being reprimanded by her boss for assisting Bucky and Sam in Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Sharon Carter: The only way Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson don’t make it is if they kill each other first.

[glittercake]

Square Filled: Hitman Falls In Love With Target

No Warnings

Summary:

When Wilson next emerges, James has him in the crosshairs, his finger feather-light on the trigger. If he pulls it now, it's a clean center headshot; if he waits five point two seconds, the bullet will enter Wilson's temple, seven more seconds, and it'll enter the back of the skull… ten more seconds, and Wilson will be out of range.

Eleven seconds pass.

Fuck.

[chamiryokuroi]

What dying will flames do you think the Avengers would have?

Oh boy, why would you do this to me, now I will haveto really think about it.

Ok so for those who do not understand, the flames Anonis asking about are from the manga Katekyo Hitman Reborn, there are many and each one has a different ability, I will explain morebelow.

Tony - Sky

If you didn't see this coming I am greatlydisappointing on you. Ok but aside from the fact that Tony is my boyI do believe he would have Sky flames, their main characteristic isHarmony, which is the first thing to throw people off becauseseriously? Harmony? STARK?? It doesn't make sense, but it actuallydoes! Tony is a man who is know for being reckless, childish,narcissistic, and selfish (thanks Natasha), and somehow he alwaysfinds people that stick with him, not only his friends, or theavengers, the whole of SI is part of this, because no matter howstupid his decisions are he always finds a way to make it work, healways finds a way to take what is around him and make it better, andit never is about him, it is about helping literally anyone else. Theinteresting thing is that before Afghanistan he never had showed anyinclination for actually being able to use flames, is not until he istesting the Mark II repulsors that JARVIS points out how much hisflames are working on stabilizing his flying that Tony has toliterally drop down on a park because “Wait what? Flames?? WhatFlames?!?!” he didn't even notice he was using them.

Steve - ?

This one was hard, so I decided to give him adifferent approach, Steve is not a perfect user of any of the flames,he has a bit of most of them (just like Gokudera). So before thesuper soldier serum Steve knew for a fact that he had no flameswhatsoever, and he was damn glad that after the experiment he hadfinally found a way to help on the war, even without them. The thingis that Steve doesn't notice he is using flames, a side effect of theserum, he cannot control them but they are there, constantlyemanating from his core, in such a natural and smooth way mixed withhis own body no one notices either at first. There are Sun flames,helping to keep his body in top condition, Lightning flames makinghis punches stronger, Cloud flames floating around his mind helpingcreate his strategies, showing him all the outcomes, multiplying hisoptions, and Rain flames keeping him calm even in the middle of afight. He cannot control them even if he wanted, they are justanother part of his being.

Natasha - Wrath

Ok ok ok, I know Wrath flames are like super rare,but they are also extremely powerful and destructive, and if anyonecan control them it is Natasha. And the fact is that almost no oneknows that is her flame, most people think it is Storm flames,actually most of the Avengers think that as well (except Clint, heknows) and being honest, she rarely uses them, why would she? Shedoesn't need them, she can fuck you up on a pencil skirt andstilettos, do you really think she needs to use her flames? Please.

Clint - Cloud

First of, they're purple, and you know Clint, secondof they are Propagation flames, which solves the whole running out ofAmmo during a fight, unless he gets to tired and his flames get tooweak, so yeah, I just like that they are purple tbh, they fit Clint.(I considered giving him some Rain flames as well, for the wholetranquility and slowing down people, but I think that would be anoverkill because he already has his sight, his perfect aim and thenadd slowing down his foes, nah, too powerful)

Bruce - Sun & Rain

So Bruce has mainly Sun flames, know for theirActivation powers, normally used on healing it is not surprising Iwould select them for the resident Doctor (even is he is not thatkind of doctor) but if you think about it, Sun flames are normallyused to raise the efficiency of cells on the body, and it could betaken to the extreme under certain circumstances. So the Hulk is whathappens when he loses control f his sun flames and they start goingcrazy on his own body. I also believe he might have a very smallcontrol over Rain flames, that he mainly uses to keep in check hisSun flames.

Thor - Lightning

Ok so yeah this is pretty obvious, what else can Isay? Lightning flames are more electricity than flames to begin with,also their main characteristic is Hardening, imagine him using thoseflame on his hammer that is already almost indestructible, just thingabout it.

Wanda - Mist & Storm

For obvious reasons, Mist flames as we know areoptimal for illusions, and I know Mist flames are know for being anIndigo color, but think about it, her powers are not exactly natural,so I do also believe she might have some Storm flames as well, maybenot as powerful as the Mist, more of as a secondary power, Stormflames are a deep red color, and it's main power is Disintegration,they are also know as the most dangerous, so why let people know herflames are Mist, who are usually more weak, why not hide her realpower. So each time she uses her powers, they are actually Mistflames, but with an illusion strong enough to make them look as Stormflames.

Sam has no flames and he is constantly complainingbut secretly he is glad because boy if having flames means being asmessed up as the rest of the team then no thanks!

Peter hasn't found out what flames he has, or if heeven has them, but he keeps training with Tony to figure it out.

[ao3feed-stevebucky]

Till It Bleeds Daylight

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/XhTzoBV

by cable-knit-sweater (cable_knit_sweater)

Steve has been undercover with Hydra for a couple of months, slowly getting deeper into the organization . As he tries to figure out what they’re plotting and tries to take them down, he struggles with his past, loneliness, and keeping his cover. When he finds out about a mysterious contractor, the Winter Soldier, Steve figures he or she is the key to Hydra’s plans, but getting more information is not without risk. But well, Steve is anything but risk averse - just ask his secretive one-night-stand turned regular hookup turned …something, James “Bucky” Barnes.

Or, going undercover with the criminal organization that haunted your neighborhood growing up, a Steve Rogers guide: Step 1 - Don’t make it personal; Step 2 - Don’t take unnecessary risks; Step 3 - Don’t lose your cool; Step 4 - Don’t fall in love with a hitman; Step 5 - Ignore rules 1 to 4, especially 4.

Title from the song "Lovers In A Dangerous Time"

Words: 4073, Chapters: 1/11, Language: English

Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Carol Danvers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Brock Rumlow, Nick Fury, Alexander Pierce, Johann Schmidt

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Mob, Steve Joins Hydra, Undercover detective Steve Rogers, Hitman Bucky Barnes, Hydra (Marvel), one night stand but not really, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Steve Rogers, Top Bucky Barnes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/XhTzoBV

[madamebaggio]

The Crackship Fleet is back!

It’s been a long time since we set sail together, but here we are!

Hold on to your hats, because the Fleet is back in the AU verse and anything can happen.

For those of you who don’t remember -or don’t know -here are our 50 special ships:

Robb Stark (Game of Thrones) X Arthur Pendragon (King Arthur: Legend of the Sword) 

Tauriel (The Hobbit) x Valkyrie (MCU)

Napoleon Solo (The Man From U.N.C.L.E.) X Miriam “Midge” Maisel (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel)

Lara Croft (Tomb Raider) X Diana Prince (Wonder Woman)

Vortigern Pendragon (King Arthur: Legend of the Sword) x Sansa Stark (Game of Thrones)

Erik Lehnsherr (X-Men: First Class) X Susan Pevensie (The Chronicles of Narnia)

James T. Kirk (Star Trek) X Rey (Star Wars)

Klaus Mikaelson (The Originals) x Kisa | Santanico Pandemonium (From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series)

Daisy “Quake” Johnson (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.) X Gary “Eggsy” Unwin (Kingsman)

Blair Waldorf (Gossip Girl) X Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf)

Beverly Marsh (It) x Eleven | Jane Hopper (Stranger Things)

Matt Murdock (Daredevil) X Selina Kyle (Catwoman)

Lydia Martin (Teen Wolf) X Bucky Barnes (MCU)

Natasha Romanoff (MCU) X John Wick (John Wick)

Darcy Lewis (MCU) x Derek Hale (Teen Wolf)

Joseph Dredd (Dredd) x Octavia Blake (The 100)

Maria Hill (MCU) x Merlin (Kingsman)

Thranduil (The Hobbit) X Loki Odinson (MCU)

Steve Rogers (MCU) x Mera (DCU)

Dean Winchester (Supernatural) x Wynonna Earp (Wynonna Earp)

Daenerys Targaryen (Game of Thrones) x Clarke Griffin (The 100)

Ravenna (Snow White and the Huntsman) X Morgana (Merlin)

Murphy and Connor MacManus (The Boondock Saints) x Anna Poliatova (Anna)

Frank Martin (The Transporter) x Lorraine Broughton (Atomic Blonde)

Baby Doll (Sucker Punch) x Priest (Priest) 

Gretel (Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters) X Prince Nuada (Hellboy: The Golden Army)

Margaery Tyrell (Game of Thrones) X Roan (The 100)

Maleficent (Maleficent) X Jareth (The Labyrinth)

Dutch (Killjoys) x Leonard McCoy (Star Trek)

Sam Winchester (Supernatural) X Felicity Smoak (Arrow)

Diana Bishop (A Discovery of Witches) x John Constantine (Constantine)

Queen Freya (The Huntsman: Winter’s Wars) x Conan (Conan The Barbarian)

Roxy Morton (Kingsman) x Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons (Agents of the S.H.I.E.L.D.)

Faramir (The Lord of the Rings) x Jon Snow (Game of Thrones)

Lucian (Underworld)  x Tamara (Conan The Barbarian)

Snake Eyes (G.I. Joe) x Katia Von Dees (Hitman Agent 47)

Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn 99) x Kate Kane (Batwoman)

Darth Maul (Star Wars) x Lady Jaye (G.I. Joe)

Hattie Shaw (Hobbs & Shaw) x Jane Kano (Charlie’s Angels)

Face (The A-Team) x Han Cho Bai (Red 2)

Jacob Hood (Eleventh Hour) X Santiago “Pope” Garcia (Triple Frontier)

Selene (Underworld) x Mina Harker (The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen)

47 (Hitman) x Elena (Charlie’s Angels)

Dagonet (King Arthur) x Brienne of Tarth (Game of Thrones)

Borra (Maleficent: Mistress of Evil) x Catia (King Arthur: Legend of the Sword)

Diaval (Maleficent) x Yennefer (The Witcher)

Sabina Wilson (Charlie’s Angels) x Daphne Kluger (Ocean’s Eight)

Lady Sif (MCU) x Sara (The Huntsman) 

Chris Argent (Teen Wolf) x Madison Maxwell (Dollface)

Frank Castle (The Punisher) x Grace (Ready or Not)

Let’s get sailing!

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Revenge Never Felt So Good

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Guns, bombing, language, murder, blood, hints to smut (none actual smut), typos, shitty writing, torture I guess

-Words: 4.9K

A/n: Can we get back to mob stuff? Please. I want to apologize for this chapter, it is absolute shit and I could tell by writing it. Kind of a filler chapter. Sorry it is long.

Chapter 13: Revenge Never Felt So Good

Words: 4.9K

It had been a week, since you got your memories back and you declared your love for Tom once more. Right after that, you and Tom were on the first train to Paris, refusing to fly for awhile.

You and Tom returned last night, just in time to see Parker and Rosie off to school the next morning. While you and Tom had been enjoying a second honeymoon in the city of love, Nikki and Dom so graciously offered to watch the kids. Everything was falling back into full swing. Parker and Rosie were going to school regularly. Rosie spending all her time with Henry and Parker still living his secret double life.

Things going back to normal. Somewhat.

It was a typical morning, but anytime everyone every thinks that, something gets massively screwed up. You woke up early to make pancakes and bacon.

“So what is plan for everyone today?” You asked, sipping at your steaming cup of coffee.

“Well, Rosie and I have school,” Parker explained.

“I have plans with Henry,” Rosie chimed in.

“I have meetings all day, love.” Tom said, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Ok, so I’m all alone today,” you muttered, a little disappointed.

“I’m sorry darling, you could join me. You know much I love it when you sit in my lap during meetings. Really show them who’s boss,” Tom said, wrapping you in his embrace.

“No, it’s ok. I have some errands to run anyway.”

“Alright, angel. I love you. I’ll see you for dinner.”

“I love you too. Come on, kids. In the car we go.” You said, pushing everyone out the door.

“Why is Jared not driving?” Parker asked.

“Cause, I have errands to run and besides he’s driving your dad today.”

“Now let’s go.” You said as Parker and Rosie hopped into the car.

Tom was having a hard time returning to his mob personality. Some business was conducted in Paris, you tagged along and enjoyed every minute of it. Tom sometimes overcompensated for not being as dangerous and intimidating. He had grown soft taking care of you after the helicopter crash. Helping you get your memory took most of his time, he had to step away from the mob for awhile. But you were his top priority.

Tom couldn’t remember the last time he sat in his office doing business. He missed it. He missed the thrill of torturing someone, having them beg for their life in front of him. He missed the feeling of firing his gun.

“Tom, you’re late,” Haz said as Tom got out of the car.

“Sorry not sorry Haz, I enjoyed breakfast with Y/N and the kids this morning,” Tom responded.

“I have to tell you something.”

“What? It’s never good news if it’s right when I get here.”

“We’re down two more.” Harrison mumbled referring to then decreasing number of soldiers part of the Holland Empire.

“Are you fucking serious? Haz, I’m so fucking tired of this bullshit. My men are getting fucking killed. Everything has gone to shit,” Tom screamed, enraged.

“Tom, we’ll figure it out. Just need to keep your cool.” Haz said, trying to avoid Tom’s wrath.

“Easier said than done. Alright, who’s here,” Tom asked, trying to forget about everything else.

“William.” Haz said with a straight face.

“What? Why? He’s always been loyal,” Tom questioned. One of his most valuable men, working against him, the rat?

“I got word from the soldiers he has been taking bribes from Parker,” Harrison explained.

“What the fuck for? Well, I guess we’ll find out.” Tom said, walking into the main room of the warehouse.

“William, I’d never thought it would be you in this chair.” Tom said, walking up to one of his most trusted employees.

“Tom, you gotta believe me. I didn’t do anything. I’m not the rat,” William pleaded. He knew what had been happening to the mob.

“Did you or did you not take money from Parker?” Tom asked.

“Yes, he just wanted to get out of the manor at night. So, he paid me to turn a blind eye.”

“Where was he going?”

“I don’t know, I assumed to some girl’s house.” “William, I trust you. So I’m going to let you off with a warning, but you can’t let him sneak out anymore. I’m afraid we are being targeted. If he tries to leave, you have to tell me.”

“Yes, boss. I’m sorry.” William apologized.

“It’s ok, but you understand what needs to happen right? I can’t be looking like I’ve gone soft,” Tom asserted.

“Yeah, I can take it. It’s ok,” William said, gritting his teeth as he waited for the collision of Tom’s fist to his cheek. Tom winded up to deliver one swift punch to William’s left eye. Not breaking the skin but creating a dark purple blotch.

All of Tom’s frustrations have been channeled into his mob duties. Each punch riddled with anger and frustration. A release of catharsis combined with blood. Tom wears the smell of blood and death like a perfume.

The rest of the day was full of uneventful meetings. Meetings with business associates, actual business associates for the company.

When Tom came home, he planned to confront Parker about his whereabouts if he tried to sneak out again. Everyone retired, you went to sleep first and Rosie went to her room. Parker said, he was going to bed but Tom could see right through him.

Tom was sitting in the den, sipping a glass of watered down whiskey. Waiting for his son to disobey him. At 11:55 PM, Parker made his way downstairs ever so slightly. Only to be met with the dagger eyes of Tom.

“Where the fuck do you think you are going?” Tom asked as Parker tried to sneakily leave.

“I… I thought I heard noise outside and I’m going to go check on it,” Parker stammered. Getting caught by Tom was not part of the plan.

“Oh, ok. Parker the guards can do that. Go back to bed.” Tom said, turning back to the TV in the den, broadcasting Raiders of the Lost Ark.

“Ok. Night, dad,” Parker said, trudging himself back up the steps.

“Night…. I know, you’re lying,” Tom whispered loud enough for Parker to hear.

“What? I’m not lying.”

“Parker, I know you’ve sneaking out for weeks and bribing William.”

“Dad, I’m sorry,” Parker immediately started apologizing, no bother in trying to lie himself out of this one.

“Why have you been sneaking out?” Tom questioned, seething with anger but refusing to show it. Trying to have a mature adult conversation.

“I’ve been going to a girl’s house, her name is Jamie.”

“Oh, glad you find someone. You know after everything with Charlotte,” Tom replied.

“Well since I told you the truth, can I go? We made the plan a couple days ago and don’t want to cancel,” Parker lied.

“Alright, just be back before sunrise or your mother will have may head,” Tom informed him.

“Thanks dad, you should get some sleep,” Parker said, making his way out of the heavily guarded house.

Parker left as quickly as possible. He knew Wilson would be pissed for him being late. The talk with Tom was not how this was supposed to happen.

He couldn’t betray his family and himself anymore.

Parker hoped this was the last time he would have to talk to him. He planned to quit, after the conversation with Dom. Parker had become everything he hated, someone who kills for sport.

“Wilson, this is the last thing I’m doing then, I’m out,” Parker said, walking towards Wilson.

“We’ll talk about it later, my boy,” Wilson said, patting Parker’s shoulder.

“Alright who am I killing? You never gave me a target.” Parker shouted at Wilson walking.

“Oh, this isn’t a hit, it’s a robbery. Here’s your new firearm,” One of Wilson’s men explained, tossing a MP5K at him.

“You okay kid? You know if you’re too much of pussy the boss might understand,” jeered one of the men as Parker gulped at the size of the weapon.

“Fuck you, I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with,” Parker barked, trying to put his mind aside. He has never done anything like this. It wasn’t just one person he was killing, it was the possibility of having many causalities. Altering his persona from a hitman to a mass murderer.

A million thoughts flooded Parker’s mind. He wouldn’t be killing people who deserved it like before, contract killers or drug dealers, these were innocent people. Stupid people for gambling all their hard earned money away but nonetheless innocent.

Parker’s heart nearly stopped when he saw where the van pulled up to. A place he knew all too well, it was one of Tom’s casinos.

The company that Dom had built, but all the Holland boys sent thriving in the new century, was more than it seemed. Holland Exportation and Luxuries was much more than exporting goods.

It was casinos that ran all along the French Riviera, more specifically Monaco. It was hotels across the entire globe. It was a business but not the family one. More of a front for the mob but it paid the bills. Harry and Sam had been in charge of running and establishing the hotels and casinos across Europe.

“Y’know your way around, right? That’s why the boss put you on this.” One of men asked Parker as he fiddled with his new machine gun.

“I guess so.” Parker replied.

“Here’s a map. Where are the guards? Which posts?” Asked a soldier, pointing to the main entrance hallways, where security was sure to be.

“I don’t know.”

“So we’re going in there fucking blind? Fuck, thought you’d be good for something. Just stay out of our way,” yelled one of the capos.

“No. I’m taking point. If you have a problem, you can fucking talk to me about it along with my Glock,” Parker threatened.

“Alright. Don’t screw this up. The boss wants big bucks from this. Says “it’s step two in the fall of the empire.” Whatever the fuck that means.”

“On my count, 1, 2… 3,” Parker screamed.

They came storming in, barricading all the entrances and exits. Parker and Wilson’s men clad in all black and payday masks. All various colors and designs. They looked as they were trick or treating.

This was the last thing Parker wanted to be doing. He came today to quit and now he was robbing a casino.

Parker kept repeating a mantra in his head “Last one, then I’m done” as held his gun high. Pointing it directly at innocents, he could see them shaking in fear.

“EVERYONE ON THE GROUND NOW!” He shouted, aiming his machine gun high.

“Don’t you fucking touch that button. I know what it fucking does.” Parker barks at the person behind the token counter. “Open the vault.” Parker said, pointing the gun at him.

“Why should I?” remarked the worker.

“Cause I fucking said so and I’m threatening your life,” Parker explained

“Enough of this shit!” He screamed, firing a few rounds close to the worker but not hitting him.

“You don’t have to do this. You could walk out of here, all of you. And we could go on with our lives. No need for money or the cops.”

“I think we both know that’s not gonna happen. I’ll ask nicely, please open the vault,” Parker mocked. “Boss said “start killing hostages in 10 minutes.” One of the other men whispered in Parker’s ear.

“Did you fucking hear that? We’re gonna fucking kill you if you don’t cooperate. So I suggest you open… the fucking… vault.”

“Sir, we can’t.”

“See this gun. LOOK AT IT! It has the power to put a bullet through your skull. Open the fucking vault. I won’t ask a fifth time.”

“That’s it. Now, type in the code.” Parker directed towards them.

The vault door creaked open, revealing trappings of pure wealth. Money stacked on tables, almost reaching the ceiling. And gold bars, glistened as the light reflected off of them.

“Now was that so fucking hard. Take all of it. Everything, even the gold.” Parker said, directly towards his men.

“Thank you, you’ve served you purpose,” Parker said to the worker, shooting him dead not even 3 seconds later. The screams of the other hostages echoed through the vacated room.

“Now to everyone here, there’s already one dead. I don’t mind making it more,” Parker barked.

“What’s your name?” Parker asked the nice looking girl kneeling on the ground.

“It’s not nice to not answer when someone asks you question, especially someone with a 9 caliber MP5K in your face. I ask again. What’s your name?” Parker spoke.

“Jane,” she whispered, shaking with fear.

“Well Jane, I want to thank you for your cooperation. You are in charge of talking to the cops, ok? And let your boss know, that Wilson is always watching,” Parker said, as he turned to leave.

“I will but you won’t get as far as you hoped,” Jane asserted, trying not to irritate Parker.

“And why’s that?”

“I know you. I remember you. You’d come in here with your dad.”

“You don’t know fucking shit!” Parker screamed.

“I know your name and that puts me at a high position of power,” Jane expressed, growing less afraid by the second. Realizing he is just some scared boy. Maybe not afraid of his own shadow but broken down by the fear of the world.

“I’m the one pressing fucking gun to your head. I HAVE ALL THE POWER!” Parker vociferated loud enough to shake the chandelier hanging above.

“You wish. Men like you always wish.”

“Seems like you’re doing some wishing yourself sweetheart. Wishing to be escorted out of here in a body bag. Now shut your fucking trap.”

“Hey. Let’s go. Leave her.” One of the Wilson’s men said, pulling Parker towards the exit.

“He still loves you and he’ll forgive you for this,” Jane shouted as Parker left.

Refusing to turn back, he had taken enough lives from this ill attempt at revenge. Parker didn’t know who he was fighting against anymore. Who was the hero and who was the villain?

All the wrongdoings as vast as the sea. All his attempts to make someone pay were misconstrued. Who actually deserved it?

The words of the woman replayed in Parker’s head. She was like a broken record, forcing him to listen to a truth he hoped to forget. How could Tom forgive him? Parker knew what he done was unforgivable. It was a mistake, all of it.

Parker marched into Wilson’s office and said, “Ever since I started working for you, my family has been in danger. I thought my dad was the reason for my girlfriends death, but I was wrong. I guess I’ll never know. Here Wilson, my gun. I quit.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I own you. I could end you, boy. Just like I almost did your parents,” Wilson barked.

“What?” Parker questioned, a look of confusion are on his face.

“Oh, please. You really think it was just a malfunction,” Wilson scoffed.

“What are you talking about?” Parker asked.

“Their helicopter. Pretty brilliant work, if I do say so myself,” Wilson gloated.

“They almost died.”

“Yeah and so? Your dad is my enemy. That is the whole reason you came to me in the first place.”

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt them,” Parker screamed. “Promises are meant to be broken. They don’t call me the Merchant of Death for nothing.”

Wilson was ready for the fight and been the one pulling the strings the entire time. Tom warranted no quarrel. Never being the instigator in a fight with Wilson.

They had been divided for years to come, focusing on their separate mobs. Only acknowledging each other if they accidentally crossed paths. There was Wilson’s mob, then a few others scattered round London such as Graham’s which was almost non-existent and Shaw’s which was mostly the drug scene. But Wilson was Tom’s biggest competitor. Being a part of then game for years before didn’t matter, Tom eclipsed Wilson just like the sun does the moon.

Or the moon to the sun, that was exactly Wilson’s play from the start. Taking out the pillars of Tom’s life. First a reason to have his son turn on him, the death of a loved one. Next, removing you from Tom’s grasp. Eventually a play had to be made on Rosie. Leaving Tom utterly alone.

Only thoughts that would cross his mind be suicidal ones, having lost everything he ever cared about. It was a long play, one Wilson vowed to see through. Wilson saw all his work as justice and merciful. Almost biblical, they way everything was playing out.

“It was you. All along. The fucking puppet master,” Parker mumbled under his breath.

“If you are talking about your little girlfriend, that was strictly business, nothing personal. But yes, I have been the one behind the scenes driving your father mad. Remember the note?” Wilson exclaimed.

“She didn’t deserve to die,” Parker shouted.

“What? Are you really upset? That was ages ago. Plus, I had to get you on my side somehow,” Wilson teased.

“Wait, you knew I’d come here?”

“Parker, how stupid are you? When will you grow up and learn this rivalry is just the beginning of a war. What side are you going to be on? You have a choice. I’ve warmed to you and I want you on my side as I take your daddy down.”

“That’s your first fucking mistake don’t have any weaknesses,” Parker admitted, taking a lesson from Tom. He drew is gun, point blank at Wilson.

“Parker, what are you doing? Put the gun down,” Wilson pleaded for his life.

“No, you made me into a cold blooded killer. Not my dad. I quit.”

BANG

After a loud thud sounded, the room was silent. Only a faint smell of smoke from the gun was there as Parker fled as quickly as possible.

Parker made his way home that night a changed man. All his kills in the pass were strictly business. Never driven by emotion but this one was personal.

It wasn’t a job or a hit. He was no longer a contract killer. Killing for the sake of money or an obligation. He was cold blooded killer.

In some twisted way, Parker enjoyed Wilson and his company. Looking up to him. He was then one who saved him from the horrible life he thought he was leaving behind. The one full of deceit and betrayal. The one with Tom, you and Rosie.

The one that led him to be next leader of the Holland mob. The one that resulted in the death of his beloved girlfriend. The one that had almost taken you and Tom away from him. The one that almost took his life. The one that forced him to kill for sport.

But no, he was wrong Parker brought that on himself. Parker’s naivety was his greatest enemy. He was just a child not too long ago. Once afraid of his own shadow, then afraid of failing at life and school, especially the SATs. Now, he was an adult burdened by problems a 16 year old should ever face. He could sit there and blame Tom, but it would do him no good when all he had to do was look in the mirror.

Parker was his own worst enemy. Searching for justice, when none could be found in a world wear mobsters roamed. Causing shootouts, robbing banks, and killing innocent people. People deserved to be avenged and Parker sure as hell wasn’t doing anything to aide.

Parker drove home, took four showers and threw his clothes away. Anything to wash off this abhorrent day. The next morning, Parker went on like nothing had changed. As if he didn’t shoot his boss and Tom’s rival in cold blood. As if didn’t only see himself as a cold blooded killer. Everything that he is and everything he owns soiled with the scent of murder.

He played it as though it was any other morning. Eating his pancakes and bacon before starting the day. Telling you about his plans for the day. Trying to keep his cool. The lovely morning breakfast conversation was interrupted once Tom’s phone rang.

RING, RING, RING

“Haz, why are you calling me? I’m having breakfast with my family,” Tom asked, annoyed his precious breakfast was interrupted. “Charlie is here, you need to get here. I have to tell you something,” Haz informed Tom. “Ok, I’m on my way,” Tom said, brushing off the request. Why would the

company’s electrical engineer for aeronautical transportation be there?

“Love, I’m so sorry but I’m needed at the warehouse. Thank you for this wonderful breakfast, wish I could enjoy it. Bye, kids. Have a good day at school,” Tom said, making his way out the door. Bidding you all goodbye.

“Haz, what’s was so urgent that I couldn’t finish my breakfast.” Tom barked, annoyed he was pulled away from you and the kids even on a Saturday.

“We were robbed last night. The casino.” Haz explained, his head hanging low.

“How the fuck? Did they catch them?” Tom seethed with anger.

“No, we do have eye witnesses though.”

“How much is missing?”

“About 11 million dollars, from cash to gold bars.” Haz said, waiting for Tom to explode.

“FUCK. We need to make them pay. I’m done playing fucking games.” Tom shouted, calming himself down for his meeting with Charlie.

“Now, you said Charlie was here, right?”

“Yeah, in your office.”

“Charlie? What are you doing here?” Tom asked, a little annoyed he was taken away from his morning with his family.

“Tom, I ran my report and did diagnostics tests and it’s not good,” Charlie started.

“What the fuck does that mean, Charlie?” Tom yelled.

“I think the helicopter was sabotaged.”

“What? You mean is that someone tried to take out my wife and I while we were on a helicopter,” Tom repeated, making all the connections necessary .

“Yes, it wasn’t just a normal malfunction. Did they ever find the pilot?” Charlie asked.

“No… Jesus fucking christ, if it’s true then…Fuck, I’m sorry I have to go,” Tom yelled, running out to the car.

“Jared, home now.”

“Mr. Holland is everything alright?” Jared asked, concerned by Tom’s frantic manner.

“No. I just found out the helicopter was sabotaged. I think someone might being trying to take out Y/N and I.”

“Come on baby, pick up,” Tom whispered, frantically dialing your number over and over.

“Y/N answer the god damm phone!” Tom shouted, when heard the same voice message over and over again, “Hi, this Y/N Holland please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

“God fucking dammit. Fuck, voicemail. Jared do you know where my wife is?” Tom yelled, afraid what your silence meant.

“Last I heard she was at the store getting groceries,” Jared explained.

“Fuck, I have here location on my phone. Change course,” Tom barked, praying you were okay. With the information he just learned he didn’t want to leave you alone, not even for a second.

“Y/N! You’re okay.” Tom said, inhaling a breath of relief. You were coming out of the store pushing a cart of groceries.

“Tom! Of course, I’m okay. What are you doing here?” You asked.

“I’ll explain later. Get Parker and Rosie we need to go home now.”

“They’re already home. Henry’s there also. You’re scaring me.” You said, Tom never acts like this.

Being a part of a mob there is a constant fear of someone behind you. All throughout Tom’s life he only had to worry about himself until he met you.

Tom’s worst fear is him being the reason you no longer walk the earth. The last week he had glimpse of life without you and didn’t care for it one bit. You weren’t a weakness but at the same time, you were. For anyone with a dangerous job there’s always a target on your back.

“Come on, love. In the car,” Tom motioned towards the car.

“Tommy, my car is here. I’ll meet you there,” you said, kissing his cheek goodbye.

“Ok just be careful please.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Ok, Jared. Home now plea—“ Tom directed but was cut off by a loud BOOM.

“Jared, what the fuck was that?” Tom asked.

“Sir, it was Mrs. Holland’s car.”

“Y/N! Y/N?” Tom jumped out of the car. Nothing else mattered in that moment, only finding you.

Time stood still as thick black smoke bled through the air. Coating everything in its path with a faint ash. Screams echoed from the bystanders as the car went up in flames.

“Tom, I’m okay. It wasn’t mine.” You exasperated, coughing from the smoke. It wasn’t your car but it was close in proximity.

“Thank god. I can’t keep almost losing you,” Tom whispered, kissing you hairline.

“I’m here now.” The second you were in his arms you knew you were safe.

“Yes you are. It sure does look hell a lot like yours, though. Come on, I’m taking you home,” Tom said, wrapping his right arm around your shoulder.

Pulling up to the manor, everything looked different. There were more guards posted at every corner with heavier weaponry. Tom had the gate barricaded with another car in case some where to ram into the gate.

“Jesus, what took you so long?” Haz said

“They tried to bomb Y/N’s car. Thankfully the dumb fucks who planted it, picked the wrong car.”

“Tom you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I will. Family meeting in the living room. Now.”

“Some of us have some secrets to share. I want to know everything that happened here while your mother and I were in Paris. Someone start talking,” Tom said, pacing in front of Parker and Rosie sitting on the couch.

Rosie and Parker were both hiding something. Rosie’s however was a rather monumental milestone. Rosie reminisced of her wonderful night with Henry while you and Tom were away. She loved Henry so much and was overjoyed to share that experience with him.

Rosie had told Henry at the wedding that she was ready to take that next step with him. Seeing you and Tom re-commit yourselves to one another affirmed that for Rosie. That she loved him more than anything.

“I’m sorry, dad. You don’t have to worry, we were safe,” Rosie blurted out.

“What?” Tom barked growing more anger by the second.

“Henry and I used a condom,” Rosie responded.

“Rosie?” You questioned, knowing what she was talking about.

“WHAT?” Tom screamed.

“That’s not what you were hinting at?” Rosie stammered.

“No, this is about Parker,” Tom reckoned.

“Fuck,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Where the fuck is he?” Tom yelled, bolting out of the living room. Looking for the boy who had stolen Rosie’s innocence. You and Rosie soon followed hoping Tom wouldn’t do anything rash.

“Dad!”

“Tom!”

“Henry, you bastard! You fucked my daughter!” Tom shouted charging at Henry.

“Oh shit,” Henry muttered, he knew Tom could kill him in an instant.

“You went in my daughter! What’s stopping me from killing you right now.” Tom asked with gritted teeth, hoping this dumbass wouldn’t answer.

“Tom, put him down,” you said, as Tom was gripping his collar and dangling him in the air.

“Daaaadddd.”

“Tom, please,” you pleaded as Tom held a gun square to Henry’s head.

“The safety is on, I was never gonna shoot him. Just make him shit his pants a little. From now on, you two can’t be here alone. And if you are in your room the door needs to stay open,” Tom said, pointing fingers at Rosie and Henry.

“I believe we have more important business to get to. Now come on,” you said, pulling Tom away.

“Y/N, you know I was never going to actually hurt the boy right?”

“Yes, Tommy. Now please resume the family meeting.”

“Parker. Do you have something to tell us?” Tom asked, knowing his son will lie.

“I’ve been sneaking out at night and I’m sorry,” Parker started, you could hear the disappointment behind his voice.

“Why? I know it’s not because of a girl. I want to know everything,” Tom explained, fucking tired of all the lies.

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

Parker began by explaining how he felt by the loss of Charlotte and how he turned to Wilson. In Parker’s mind he was doing the right thing. Serving justice to those who wronged others. But in reality he was the one committing the wrongdoings.

Parker came clean that he was the one killing all of Tom’s men and that he killed Jazz. That he went Wilson before coming to Tom. Becoming Wilson’s secret hitman was never supposed to go this far. He only intended for it to be a big fuck you to Tom. Not destroy his livelihood and his family in the process.

Including all the details of Wilson’s secret agenda of taking you and Tom out. But Parker left out the fact that Wilson was no longer a threat. Having taken care of him the day before.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve never been this naive and stupid. I’m the one you’ve been searching for. I’m the rat,” Parker exclaimed. “Dad, say something,” he pleaded.

“Get out,” Tom said with an unchanging expression.

“What?”

“I said get the fuck out!”

“Tom,” you tried to reason.

“You are no longer my son. Betraying me, betraying your family. Get out.” Tom screamed.

A/n: I’m sorry. I like the content in this chapter but not the writing.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

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