#it's a good idea since Peter has a terrible memorie

[tellerficraz]

Me when Wendy writes her name next to Peter's so he can always remember her when he comes back to the roof. Even if she's already dead.

It's the forbidden love trope for me.. it just breaks me every time, no matter the adaptation

[weebsinstash]

Every day I get closer to writing the "You vs YouTwo trying to steal your identity in the Spider Society" fic (which, the fic even has a name as I slowly build it, I'm calling it Imposter Syndrome because, you know, 1 Reader is starting to get depressed and feel unneeded even before YouTwo comes along and 2. Well. It's self explanatory)

But anyways I keep thinking of all of these dramatic interactions and scenes (shit I was listening to John Mulaney stand up just to write dialogue for Peter Porker, for funsies) where, thinking of either Reader being kicked out of the Spider Society and such, and them having to literally hunt you down and search for you, but. What if YOU came to them?

It's been like 3 months since you "died" after the Society mistaking you for your double and removing the dimensional watch that kept you tethered down, and there's a palpable air of depression. Spiders go to the training room you used to teach your classes in and leave flowers and mementos and share stories of their times spent with you. Maybe they even do something fucking dramatic like set up a memorial, like a plaque with your name and photo or something, but, something to help remind them to be wary of who they bring into the Society and appreciate the ones they have and so on so forth, and also like I imagine there were Spiders who were so attached to you that this entire incident makes them leave the Socety for good (like maybe Hobie equates the way you were exiled to fascist tyranny and hates Miguel more than he already does for letting it/helping it happen, for example)

But, anyways, months later, but not too terribly long for them to stsrt to forget about you, just enough time for the guilt and depression and the longing to marinate, and some Spiders are hanging out in the food court, Peter B and Jess and some of the others managing to drag Miguel out of his lab to eat and be around other people because he's just been holing up by himself almost 24/7 since you "left". Dude's a fucking mess, man, you can literally just look at him and see the dark circles under his eyes, the unwashed hair, the body odor because he fucking lives in that suit, and half the cafeteria is wondering if he's about to start crying into his stupid silly ass Miguel burger and

*FWOMP*

Some loud ass undescribable noise as the fabric of the universe suddenly shifts and, you glitch right back in and slam down on the floor besides their table. The entire room freezes as they literally had no idea you were still alive as you scramble to your feet, the first thing you notice being the food as you DIVE for Miguel's burger, snatching it right off his plate and beginning to absolutely devour it like literally gobbling that shit as the man amd everyone else is AGHAST. You've lost a significant amount of weight (like, an unhealthy amount for the time that has passed) and you're covered in bruises and scratches with tears and holes all over your suit. Your hair has knots and tangles and your Spidey suit is beyond dirty with a raggedy jacket and a tattered backpack on your body. You've just been constantly bouncing in and out of different dimensions, ricocheting all over the place this entire time, which made it hard for you to eat, sleep, bathe, do just about anything normally. One minute you're trying to swipe some food from a market because you have no money, the next you're glitching again and you're lost in an apocalyptic wasteland, or a thick jungle, or even places where shapes and colors don't operate the same as we can even comprehend it

You're constantly dropping the food because your hands keep glitching but you're clearly obviously starving, and Pavitr hands you his chai to help wash everything down, but you still pick up several beverages on the table and absolutely chug them as your friends are just stunned into silence, still in shock, quickly morphing into all kinds of different emotions. Joy you're still alive, horror and pity for your current state, guilt and anguish that all of them did this to you. Jesus, have you even been able to drink water? Like if you didn't have Spider powers you probably would have died by now and it's easy to see you're weak on your feet

And from here I see two options and I'll go with the less exciting one first:

Reader is so fucking hungry and malnourished and weak that after the Spiders make room for you to sit at their table and eat their food, you being just genuinely so fucking worn down from constantly not being able to eat and sleep properly, that you basically show up, eat the entire table's worth of food, and all but fall into a food coma right then and there because this is like the first time youve been able to sit and mildly relax for WEEKS, like here comes Spider Plushie for the save like he's trying to slide across home base, loyally stopping in front of you and directly under your head as you just kind of, slump forward, the little guy making the perfect pillow as he keeps your forehead from smacking against the table, and you're just, like O U T out as Miguel cradles you in his arms because, oh my god he thought you were gone forever, and he won't let anyone else touch you as he marches you straight to, wherever the fucking doctors in this place are

But option TWO: suddenly you pause your gorging as some burps rise up in your chest and you suddenly have some calories pushing enough energy to your brain that you finally look around, like REEEEALLY look around. The entire room is dead silent, some starting to cry with joy and relief, others still stunned, many looking absolutely confused, and your eyes eventually meet with Miguel's. He doesn't look quite as run down as you, but WOW is this one sad haggard looking dilf, and you blink at him for a minute. And then look around. And back at him. And around. And to him

And your expression morphs into something so fearful as you force out a nervous laugh, "oh, wait, it's... you guys..." And the second everything clicks for you, you're IMMEDIATELY TAKING OFF, and despite your weakened state you actually make them really work for it because wow that adrenaline kicks in as you for your life because you're thinking "shit they still think I'm the fake and they'll kill me this time if they get their hands on me" when in actuality Miguel is getting his ass on the intercom system ordering all available units to stop you so they can put a bracelet back on you so you aren't lost again, which i mean it is but isnt even a yandere thing at this point, youre literally going to die without some sort of dimensional tether. But during the chase Miguel realizes you aren't using your webs, and you're actually not nearly as fast as he's seen you before, and he realizes with a broken heart, oh Jesus you're literally too malnourished to produce your organic webs within your body, or a lot of it, anyways. You must REALLY be in bad shape

And I imagine like, the chase comes to a halt, not when they catch you, but when your physical exhaustion finally catches up to you. Sweetie you barely ate anything for the last several days, suddenly gorged on a whole spread of food, and then started sprinting and jumping and climbing and parkouring on shit. You HAVE to stop running because you're literally getting sick and VOMITING, like, your former students and fellow Spiderpeople and of course Miguel are hot on your heels and they all pause and give you space because you're literally having to throw up in a gutter with sweat pouring down your face and entire body developing the shakes as, oh no, you feel your strength leaving you as you can't even hold yourself up, collapsing onto the ground, barely conscious as something scoops you up with the gentleness of handling glass, your eyes unable to stay open as you whimper things. "Please don't kill me... I'll leave... I'll never come back..." before you pass out

Miguel has you immediately checked by doctors while the staff have to limit the amount of people trying to come and see you (because, uh, there are a ridiculous amount of Spiders invested in your wellbeing) and only he's in the room as the medical team details your current state. Severe malnutrition, sunburns, broken ribs, a finger or two in crudely-improvised splints, telogen effluvium aka temporary hair loss from illness/extreme stress, you're probably starting to come down with a cold of some sort, potentially something dramatic like pneumonia.

You sleep for like several days straight while hooked up to IVs and fluids because your body just needed to heal THAT badly. By the time you wake up you feel like you're rising from the dead, your entire body aching and heavy, taking minutes to blink yourself awake to take in your new surroundings. You've got a private medical suite that's pretty well-secured, and when you try to scratch a sudden itch on your nose, you feel a weight on your wrist after going to move your arm. Oh, it's another kind of watch, although this one doesn't have nearly all the features and buttons of the first one, and when you keep rotating your wrist over and over, you can't seem to find the latch to take it off, because, well, there isn't one

Miguel is already in the room with you, either having been working on a laptop or just legitimately sitting there watching you sleep for an unknown amount of time, even if its completely dark in the room. He's gotten himself all cleaned up and back to normal and looking like his old self again but he's honestly not even sure what to say to you. Emotions aren't really his strong suit? Where does he start, apologizing for this whole mess or promising it will never happen again?

The only guarantee for now is that you will NOT be leaving Nueva York again, or even so much as leaving his SIGHT, so long as Miguel doesn't want you to, and trust me, after being tricked and having you ripped away from him, to see you in such a vulnerable sad state because of his own actions when all he wanted was to protect you, he's got a whoooole lotta things he wants to do and talk to you about. First and foremost? Vowing that he's going to make everything up to you, starting now, by being your most devout protector

[maebird-melody]

Fic Stats Game

Rules: Give us the links to your fics with the most hits, second most kudos, third most bookmarks, fourth most comments, fifth most words, and your fic with the least amount of words.

Thank you so much @aowyn for tagging me! I’ve seen this one going around and it seems fun!

First most hits: The Last Time

After settling into his new anonymous life, Peter picks up a new coffee habit. But is it really just for the sake of routine, or is it an excuse to see his old friends? Peter resolves that today is the last time, and then he will truly cut ties with his past. After all, that's what he wanted, wasn't it?

You may not know this about me, but Spider-Man is my oldest and deepest obsession. I didn't like how No Way Home ended. I didn’t want to rewrite canon or anything, but I did want to explore how Peter (especially MCU Peter) would do a terrible job at staying away from his friends. Most likely this fic only has such a high hit count because the fandom is massive.

I wrote the first chapter of this fic as a oneshot, but it’s become a multi-chapter slow burn identity reveal fic now and I am atrocious at updating with any semblance of a reliable schedule. I’m trying to get a lot of it outlined and several chapters written before I start posting again.

Second most kudos: Glockwork

Sometimes, the answer is violence. In which Clockwork rescues Danny from the Guys in White in a more conventional manner.

Joining fandom events (especially for Danny Phantom) has resulted in several one-off crack fic ideas. This is one of them. My second-longest obsession after the Sam Raimi Spider-Man films has got to be Danny Phantom. I somehow managed to avoid phandom participation for nearly 20 years. And honestly, y’all are insane, but in a good way I think.

Glockwork isn’t even my joke. I just couldn’t think of a better pun than the meme this was based on. I am glad to have contributed any small part to fandom lore. Also, Clockwork with a gun is hilarious. The original art that inspired this fic was drawn by @ravenatural-art

Third most bookmarks: Waypoints

When an unnatural cold settles over Casper High, the trio know that something more than they can see must be going on. But their search for answers yields more than they bargained for. Ghosts are haunting Amity Park with their shattered memories. Only by reliving those memories can they free the mortal realm from ghostly influence, restore the broken cores, and ultimately, help the ghosts pass on. Yet there is a sinister force at work behind the scenes. Someone…or something…caused this. Who is pulling the strings? Why? And how do they make sure none of this happens again?

Another Danny Phantom fic! This is the piece I’m writing for Invisovang (yes, writing, as in present tense—I didn’t finish by the deadline it’s fine). My longest fic by far, it’s amazing what actually planning out your story will do for you.

Probably has so many bookmarks since I'm still actively updating it, and many people prefer to read completed longfics. Also, there are just so many Danny Phantom fics out there. If you want a fic that doesn't involve dissection, maybe this one's for you.

Fourth most comments: Geduldh’s Fate

In which Heisshitze learns of the consequences of his meddling in Ferdinand's affairs. SPOILERS FOR PART 4 VOLUME 8 It is the first Interduchy Tournament since Ferdinand left for Ahrensbach, and Heisshitze is feeling very pleased with himself for having orchestrated Lord Ferdinand's freedom from Ehrenfest. But as he is about to learn, no good deed goes unpunished.

My current obsession, Ascendance of a Bookworm! It’s a slice of life turned high fantasy political thriller light novel series. I highly recommend it. Let’s just say, I was unhappy with the turn of events in Part 4 Volume 8, so I wrote something to deal with that. Ironically, a lot of what I’d written and wanted to happen actually came to pass, if not in exactly the same way. This was also written at the turning point where I stopped waiting for the paperbacks and ended up reading all the way up through pre-pub. I haven't quite gone so far as to read to web novel.

Fifth most words: The Long and Winding Road

While traveling the West Road, Alistair becomes the unwitting guard of a merchant caravan. When he leaves camp later that evening to gather firewood, he meets a strange, enigmatic elf who is lost in the forest. They spend a brief time together before their paths diverge once again.

This was written for a Dragon Age event! It was a fic exchange in which people requested either romantic or platonic pairings with Solas. I picked the Solas & Alistair platonic pairing. I have them sharing a camp together for the night. It’s a very moody, contemplative piece, I like it.

Least words: Uthenera: Fen’Harel Ver Na

"I lay in dark and dreaming sleep while countless wars and ages past." This song blends the Lost Elf Theme and the Thedas Love Theme, and also introduces a new theme of my own devising which can be heard in the opening bars of the piece. This is a programmatic piece, which means that each part of the song represents an unfolding story. For program notes, see the end of this page.

Feels like cheating though cause it’s not words at all. It’s music. Dragon Age inspired music (though I did lift part of a theme whole cloth for this piece, it was too pretty to deconstruct).

Fic with the fewest words that is actually a fic would be A Terrible Bedside Manner.

By the power of fan fiction, the laws of time and space have been broken to bring us this little nugget: what if Richard Maxwell was working for Regis when he first came to Odyssey? This tiny bit of chaos was incredibly fun to write. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

It’s Adventures in Odyssey crack fic based on the two most compelling characters in the series, who also happen to be the villains (in a series that Did Not Need Any Villains).

I feel like most of y'all have already played by now. Well, if you've already done it, please feel free to ignore the tag! Or instead, share a fic of yours that you think is underrated and doesn't get the attention it deserves. :)

Tagging @imakemywings @seaglass-skies @the-oaken-muse @bibliophilea @sailorpunksenshi @theelibugs

[urupotter]

I think you have mentioned in som meta that we as readers are supppouses to understand the marauders were somehow worse bullies than the proto DE of their time and I admit I struggle with this concept, because these children grew to be racist terr0rists.

I think its part of the reason a lot of people dont have any sympathy for teen snape and quickly dismiss it as sirius and james "bashing a fascist" (which I doubt anyone has a problem with irl),I dont think thats the reason they did it, at least not the main one but its not like I cant see why its a popular position in fandom.

I don't really believe that I've said that, rather my position is that Mulciber and James are intentionally set up as parallels (specifically what James does in Snape's Worst Memory is I believe supposed to be the same thing Mulciber does to Mary Macdonald). In any case we don't see enough of the proto death eaters to do anything beyond speculate. Also extrapolating backwards from them as full fledged Death Eaters is a bad idea, the Death Eaters are an entirely different environment and structure than Hogwarts, plus they are actually under the direct command of Voldemort. For evidence just look at the difference between the way Draco acts before he gets the mark and afterward. He's a dickhead always, but there's a drastic increase in violence/danger. (For the same reason I believe that Regulus Black, only one to be confirmed by canon to have been marked at 16, should be treated differently from the other Hogwarts students in meta and fic, he's much more dangerous than all of them).

Mulciber et al are obviously worse than the marauders purely because they want to join a terrorist group in the future (and the reason for this isn't endogenous to the marauders actions in the way it is with Snape), but that this is mostly down to circumstance and that they demonstrate enough casual cruelty and indifference to the way their actions could hurt others that I tend to attribute that more to their specific environments than anything more innate (except maybe Sirius, ironically enough given that he's the worst of the 4 bar Peter), and that it's possible, hell even likely given what we see, that during Hogwarts specifically the Marauders engaged in more immoral actions. Of course since that wasn't their environment that makes all the difference, but it is something I keep in mind when thinking about their characters.

As for motivations, that's made pretty explicit in text with the "because he exists" line, which is JKR's way of holding the readers hand and making it explicit that the motivations aren't noble. Add to that the total lack of mention of any of the marauders ever clashing with the proto DE along with many mentions of them hexing randoms and it's fairly clear to me that that was JKR's way of trying everything possible to avoid their motivations being misinterpreted as noble. Alas.

As for sympathy... eh? This is probably an unpopular opinion but both Sirius and (especially) Lupin are significantly worse people as adults than they are as teenagers, and I don't find being sympathetic hard at all. Hell, even more unpopular, teenage Lupin and Sirius are more moral than teen Snape (he is indeed a power hungry racist wanabee terrorist) but that flips by the time we get to canon (yes I know Snape bullies children, what Lupin does in third year re:Sirius is an order of magnitude worse and Sirius abuses his slave). Sympathy isn't really motivated by morality all that much to me. It's more related to if I find the character annoying or not.

Snape/Marauders is much better approached from the frame of reference that they're all rather terrible (unless you go utilitarian with Snape but that's niche and not what people tend to mean when talking about good or bad people), but that's irrelevant given that they're also cool as fuck. Lots and lots of great scenes and dialogue and amazing aesthetics and on and on. It's a much better fate as a character to be charismatic and terrible than nice and bland.

[humanoidtyphoons]

it’s kinda hard to ship them, because there didn’t seem to be much feelings on either side, and I want the turmoil of conflicting emotions.

There certainly isn't for Milady, whom everyone ultimately surmises is nothing but pure evil, however by the sequel, Athos is consumed with guilt by executing her vigilante style and state's at one point that he constantly thinks of her son, as well as that he wouldn't have been able to kill her if she brought him up during her execution..

And this is before her grown son shows up as the new villain, speaking of which, Athos continually tries to make peace with Mordaunt & even prevents the other musketeers from killing him. Plus its strongly implied that Milady's son was fathered by Athos.

I do consider Milady a henchman tho, rather than the big bad, tho, since Richelieu runs the show.

I'd argue that Milady is the main villain, its not Richeleiu that's a sadistic mass murderer, whom commits crime for the thrill of it, whom hired assassins to kill the protagonists, whom tried to poison an entire party, that killed the protagonist's true love.

Plus Cardinal Richelieu, whilst ruthless, is acting for the good of France, Milady has everything she could everything want, but kills because she likes it, the cast even states the latter in the book!

More on the subject of gender flipped dangerous villain /w obsession with heroine scenarios, I feel reversals are rare because we almost always subconsciously think of women as weaker & the submissive party in a relationship. So the hero isn't danger from the villainess like the heroine is from the villain, instead he's viewed as "conquering" her.

Also from what I remember from the parody Sentai, the example you gave was clearly a henchwoman and not the main deadly villain.

Milady is certainly one of a kind, at least. You’re making me want to reread Three Musketeers, because I can’t really remember if there were any passages in her perspective, tbh. I vaguely remember her tricking someone to free her when she was imprisoned, but I don’t recall any of her thoughts on Athos/d’Artagnan, tbh. But perhaps she really is pure evil, as others assume her to be? She’s fun, though.

I do wonder if Milady might have lived if Dumas had ideas of the sequel in mind… so she could have used that excuse. But hmm, I kinda like that she kept quiet about it.

I do need to get back into Twenty Years Later!! I’m technically reading it and just. Yeah. Got distracted, even if it’s by my bedside to remind me to read it every night… didn’t get too far in it, but my curiosity is piqued!

Hmm… I kinda agree and disagree, tbh, re: Milady being the villain of TTM over Richelieu. (Partly bc I’m charmed by Tim Curry’s performance even tho that movie is a terrible adaptation. But… I still really like it bc it constantly played on tv, so it’s nostalgic for me and he’s just sooo hammy.) I agree that Milady is certainly the more evil out of the two, and does the heavy lifting. But.

Even though it’s fairer to recontextualize him as the musketeer’s antagonist, and by TYL, they changed their mind about him, and could see he was acting for France’s best interest, in hindsight, even if it butted heads with how the musketeer’s would act in France’s best interests… that’s not what they thought at the time. (I am curious to see how Mazarin fares though…) So, I still sort of see him as a villain, and adaptations certainly don’t help (altho Peter Capaldi, had he continued the role in s2… perhaps the show could have leaned more into it.)

To me, I also think Richelieu is more of a villain, because he’s running the show and pulling strings offscreen tbh. Milady certainly acts of her own accord, does plenty, but she is still an underling. I don’t think she ever disobeys orders, but my memory is kinda murky on that. She still is a villain even if she’s a henchman, but I wouldn’t really consider her to be the main villain unless she overthrew Richelieu.

Re: gender villain reversals, yeah. That’s probably a likely reason… although does kinda make me wonder why there aren’t more villain/hero, villainess/heroine ships in that case. Might be looking in the wrong places tho.

Do you not consider henchmen/hero(ine) to be villain/hero romances? Because I would still consider Meg/Hercules a villain/hero romance despite Meg dying/switching sides in the end. Or idk, perhaps I’m splitting hairs, and villains are both the main big bad, and their minions. (I still think it’s relevant to the topic.) But you’re right in the sense that yeah, it’s harder to find main deadly villainesses with hero romances, going by those conditions, in that case.

[reidslovely]

That’s the Price (Mob! Peter Parker x Reader) (Chapter One)

Request: Yes/No

Summary: Leaving an abusive household in your early 20′s should be liberating. Instead, (Y/N) was forced into an arranged marriage with a stranger who only ever watched her from a far. Now Peter, the soft but rigid man, will do anything in his ability to make her feel safe. 

Content Warnings: Mentions of abuse (physical and emotional) on the part of readers father, talks of murder, passing mentions of outbursts of anger on the part of reader, reader has a trauma response nothing too intense but still be warned. I think that is all please let me know of anything I missed. 

Disclaimer: This is my first time since like 2017 writing any type of mob au! All my inspiration comes from the different interpretations of Mob! Peter I’ve seen on here. My skills may be a bit rusty, but the more y’all request him the more I will write of him. 

series masterlist link

playlist link

Please, please reblog! It helps writers more than you know. Enjoy!

Young girls always idolize the love story of Belle and the Beast; the idea of a strong, misunderstood man whisking the unhappy girl away from her unhappy life sounded so beautiful as a kid. All those wishes (Y/N) made as a child, to be whisked away from her miserable day to day, had crawled up and bit her in the ass.

“Mrs. Parker?” 

 Her nose twitched as she admired the flowers sitting on the vanity, ignoring the faint voice of Mr. Morales who, no doubt, had come to tell her Peter was requesting her presence at breakfast. A beautiful array of green, and baby blue hydrangeas sat in front of the open window of their bedroom, a form of apology from her new husband attached. 

‘Neshama sheli, 

Green for renewal and rebirth, blue for my apologies.

I hope to see you today, it has been a rough couple of days but we can’t ignore each other forever. We can do anything you want, my time is yours.

-Peter.”

It was his handwriting alright, capital letters where lowercase should be and slanted slightly to the right. She clenched the note in her hand, tears building in her eyes as she remembered the first letter she had received from him. Her father forced it into her hand as he explained the situation as she sat sobbing on the floor, her cheek throbbing from the punishment after she had said she wouldn’t be married off. 

“It’ll be good for both families, clear any bad blood. It is your duty to marry this man, it has been a long time in the making.” Tony explained, kneeling in front of his daughter. He grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him. “So stop your fucking crying. We have a fiance to meet. Put something on that.” His finger prodded at the red, throbbing mark under her eyes.

Silence fell over the room as she wiped her eyes at the memory, it was a terrible memory that made her feel sick. There were not many memories of her father she thought too fondly on, they all sent her into a state of sickness. The door of the bathroom pushed open, (Y/N) jumped up from the vanity as she caught the tall figure in the mirror. 

“I’m sorry..I was going to come down. I was on my way down. I- I wanted to look presentable for you.” Her apologies rolled off her tongue, as Peter's figure stalked towards her. His hands dropped into his pockets, in what he believed to be a non threatening position- but he had a lot to learn. 

“I’m not angry, dove.” He pulled his hands from his pockets, placing them on his hips. “I was worried, Miles said you didn’t answer. We didn’t want a wedding day repeat, d’ya love.”

His steps towards her continued, each more careful than the last. His hands lowered, settling her back into the chair of the vanity. (Y/N)’s glossy eyes stared at him, shocked by his kindness; her cheek nuzzled into his palm. Her breaths evened out, and her eyes flooded with displaced tears. 

“It’s alright, Dove. I’m here.”

“You scared me..” 

Peter pressed his lips together, working her through the moment. He knew what she had gone through, Aunt May had warned him of her delicate state but the vase of flowers to the wall on the wedding day sealed the door. 

Tony, (Y/N)’s father, was a deeply distrusting and unkind man. Peter had watched his future in-laws at a distance for years, even when the business between the two families was at a low. He hadn't trusted Tony since the day he laid eyes on him, he remembers the first interaction very clearly. It was at Ben’s funeral that (Y/N)’s father told Peter, to his face, that he was a kid and that he could never run this business. That after Ben had died, it should have been Tony who took over, not the unofficial son of Ben Parker. However, Peter had abilities that Tony was never capable of. Ben knew Peter, though he was just freshly eighteen, would improve the empire they had built. 

That day was also the day he had been told what he and (Y/N) would be one day. May had informed him that was the girl he was going to marry one day. 

(Y/N) was gorgeous, she was anything a man could want in a wife. He watched her interact with his men’s children; the way she happily played games with them. Peter thought of (Y/N) interacting with their future kids, he smiled at her when she caught his stare. She smiled back, sweet and shy. That’s when he noticed the other parts of her. There was a big bruise, poorly covered on her collarbone; the mark showing from the neck of her dress. He wondered how it had got there, when her fathers had squeezed down on her shoulder followed by a daring glare. That's when he realized how. Peter wanted to prove it, to run to May and tell her what he saw, ask what Ben would do. But, there was no actual proof- it was one bruise and visible anger he saw it wouldn’t prove liable. He saw her on and off after that, never alone enough to ask what her father did to her. Not at least up till the weeks before their wedding, he saw it with his own eyes. It was time to make any sort of case that he could against Tony. 

Their wedding day changed everything. (Y/N)’s only request to May was that her father was not invited- and that their flowers be red hydrangeas. Check, and check. (Y/N) had her red flowers, and her father escorted from the building. Peter had got to cradle his bride as she broke down in his arms after their vows, he felt her pain, almost as if they were connected. It didn’t last more than a few minutes, because (Y/N) hadn’t seen the innocent touch way he had, she saw herself as being restricted physically and metaphorically. Tony always told her she was something to keep the Parker’s happy, and off his back. Her coldness returned, before the vase of red hydrangeas sitting on the table went barreling past his head and to the wall. It was misdirected anger, he couldn’t blame her. She was a fragile, and shaken animal and right now she saw him as a predator.

In this moment though, the green and blue hydrangeas sat firmly in the windowsill not moving and not coming towards his head. 

“Better?” He asks his thumb stroking her cheek, his eyes roaming her face. (Y/N)’s eyes found him, she nuzzled her face into his palm as she nodded. She has taken a liking to him in the weeks after.

“Okay..come eat breakfast. You’ll feel better.” 

Peter stood, reaching his hand out to her, (Y/N) placed hers in his letting him lead her down the stairs to the kitchen. The rest of the morning went perfectly, they talked and laughed. It was the first time since they met that they felt like real people towards one another. (Y/N) even started to allow him to kiss her, briefly, before he had to disappear into his office.

His feet were propped on his desk, as he stared out the window. Lost in thought as Miles explained an ongoing business deal with the Reid’s Hauling company; but all he could think about was the woman downstairs waiting for him. 

“P- Peter..” 

Her voice carried in the small room, over Miles even. Peter snapped his head towards her in a smile. “Hi, Dove.” His feet carried him over to her quickly, his hands settling on her side as he kissed her forehead. “Did you need something?” 

“No I just..I finished my shower and wanted to see you.” (Y/N)’s hands held the opening of his suit jacket, looking up at him. “But if you’re busy I can..”

“No, no. This is your business too- everything I plan I tell you. This is a partnership, Dove.” 

(Y/N) looked at him with soft eyes, his hand on her waist leading them back to the desk. (Y/N) nestled on his lap listening to the young men talk, (Y/N) twisted Peter’s wedding ring around his finger as they plotted out a line of attack. Peter treaded carefully around his words, not wanting to trigger anything in (Y/N); but when he looked at her she was far away.

“Miles, a second.” Peter nodded towards the door, the protege left, closing the door behind him. Peter fixed her on his lap, causing her to look at him. Her eyes glistening with salty tears, guilt building up in them

“I know you hurt, and that’s okay my love. But you need to tell me when you’re not in a good mindset. I am going to say things that might..”

“I just feel so guilty Pete, for hearing this stuff. For being here..” He couldn’t finish his sentence before she had fully started to cry. His tone was maybe too rough in scolding her, all of this was still so fresh for both of them. He held her against his chest, his hands rubbing her back as she cried, his lips resting on her forehead. 

“Don’t feel guilty. What did I tell you? You’re allowed to have a voice in your life, in our life Dove.” 

“But my dad, he never let me hear this stuff. Said that I need to-”

“Be in the kitchen and make the men you’re serving happy. I know, but I don’t want that from you. He was a mean man, and those are things we don’t stand for anymore. Times have changed, this is our family, and our business okay baby.” Peter held her face in his hands. “Tony was a mean, disgusting man who did incredibly wrong things to you. And even through it all, you became better than he could ever want to be.” 

His thumbs wiped away the tears off her cheek, her forehead dropped against his. 

“You’re sweet, kind, and so understanding. You don’t understand how badly, and how long I have wanted to make him pay for what he’s done to you.” 

“Then do it..”

The words shocked both of them, Peter stared at her looking for any sign of truth in her eyes. It was all he saw, she was pleading with him. He tucked her hair behind her ear, as he reached for the phone on his desk. As he dialed the number he stared her down, waiting for any cue to stop while he was ahead of himself. He kissed the apples of her cheeks, as the other end picked up. 

“Tony, it’s Peter. Yeah, yeah..listen man, why don't you meet me for a late lunch. We have some things to work out man.”

As he spoke his hand tightened around his girl, holding her close assuring her it was all going to be okay.

-----

tags

@bxcketbarnes @sincericida @helloheyhihowdyheya​ @marrymetheonott​ @toomanyfictionalboyfriends​ @theonlymaddie​ @lateridk​ @andrews-lovr​ @adhdhufflepuff​ @thatsassyhufflepuff​ @megmehz​

[crohno]

SPARK IN THE NIGHT. ( 2 ) [001/F!Reader]

A/N:  So believe it or not, this was originally a stand-alone idea and I didn’t intend to carry it on.  However, thanks to the support this fic has received, both here and on A03, I feel compelled to continue it!  This will not be a perfectly cohesive story, more like snapshots/specific moments in time between 001 and our little firestarter, but they will be chronological and you can tie a story together based on said moments.  I just don’t have the spoons to write a fully fledged novel at the moment, unfortunately.  Anyway, thank you so much for reading, it means the most, and Imma stop waffling now.

001 requests, SFW and NSFW, are  OPEN!

Summary:  001 visits you in the infirmary.  Predictably, things are not as they seem. Words: 1.3k Warnings:  N/A. Like my work?  TIP ME!

Three days.

That’s how long you’ve been asleep since that unexpected turn of events.

When you awaken, it’s to two nurses and a concerned Brenner, a multitude of different wires attached to various parts of your body, machines beeping around you.  You make a soft noise as your 'benefactor' places his knuckles on your forehead, seemingly checking your temperature.

“Good,”  he says, more to himself than to you.  “Your fever’s broken.”

“Fever…?”

Dr. Brenner presses his hand flat against your forehead, and your questions promptly vanish.  All you can focus on is the relief that his cool hand provides  -  even if, in any other context, you’d flinch away.  This man has taken so much from you, stolen all of the progress you’d fought to make in the cripplingly unfair realm of adulthood within a single night.  Not that you can recall any of the details in any meaningful capacity.  You just know that you hate him;  that you’ll never forgive him.

Think about all he’s taken from you.  What he’s extracted from you.

His hand soothes.

“Now, 019.  What do you remember about your lesson three days ago?”

“I…  that was three days ago…?”  Your brow furrows deeply, eyes becoming thin, uncertain slits.  You remember being upset.  You remember talking to Peter.  You remember an all-encompassing heat…  and then nothing concrete.  Black spots;  vertigo so sudden and intense that the floor had felt like the ceiling;  then waking up in this room.  “... I don’t know,”  you admit, your lower lip quivering with fear.  The longer you stay here, the more pieces of yourself that you lose.  He’s draining your memory dry.  Soon enough, you’ll be nothing but an empty vessel.  The perfect patient, mindless and vacant.  That thought’s enough to have you throwing your bed sheet aside, though you don’t get far before the doctors swarm your bedside and push you gently back into place.

“It’s alright.  You’re not in any trouble,”  Brenner says calmly, his palm still pushed against your forehead.  The pressure behind it has increased, keeping your head firmly against the pillow.  He may be older, but his joints certainly aren’t failing him yet.  “You simply pushed yourself too hard.  Exhausted yourself.”

You stare up at him helplessly.  You can’t put your finger on what it is, but something isn’t right.  Your memory is coming back blank, save for a terrible heat, but you get the feeling that he isn’t telling you the whole truth.  While you can’t say that you’ve never passed out from using your powers before, this time was different.  It was a heavier sleep  —  the kind that can only be achieved by a mind that's been forced to shut down.  You’ve never had that happen before.

“No… no, I…  I did something…”

“Yes, you did.”  He smiles ever so slightly.  The awkward quirk of his mouth, the one that he hesitates to show anybody, annoys you greatly.  “You demonstrated an extraordinary power.  But you used too much of your energy, and wound yourself up in the infirmary.  You must be careful not to over-exert yourself like that in future, 019.”

Part of you wants to protest further, but you’re growing tired again.  Your eyelids flutter before they fall closed, and the sound of shuffling feet is like music to your ears.

“Rest more,”  Dr. Brenner suggests, withdrawing his hand as he stands up.  “You need it.”

Despite your attempts to stay awake, to really concentrate on what truly transpired before your impromptu doctor’s visit, you feel yourself quickly succumb to sleep once more.

“Good afternoon, sleepyhead.”

The gentle voice prompts you to open your eyes.  His image is hazy, but you'd know that fluffy golden halo anywhere.

"Peter…?"  

You attempt to sit up, though his hand on your shoulder makes you lay back down.  You're feeling a little less confused now, as if you can actually stay awake for a while.

"Shh.  Don't try to get up."

He's alone, which you find odd.  Not even the doctors are present.  It's then that you become aware of the freedom in your limbs.  No more needle in the back of your hand.  No more beeping monitors.  Just Peter and his patient smile.

"How are you feeling?"

"Pretty lousy,"  you say with a wince, imagining that you don't look your best right now.  "Tired.  Like, really tired.  Like someone sucked out my brain through a straw."

He offers you a pitying tilt of his head before he draws his seat close to the edge of your bed.

"Is that all?"

"Well, I…"  You think about it, wondering if you're missing something obvious.  "... yeah.  I mean, isn't being dead to the world for three days a problem?"

"Five days."

Your mouth falls open in disbelief.  "Five days?!"

"Five days,"  Peter confirms with a sober nod.  “You went back to sleep.”

Now you’re getting nervous.  You feel it in your head first;  a blooming ache between your eyes, one that trails down and weighs heavily on your chest.  With great effort, you attempt to cast your mind back to that training session with Peter.  All you wind up with is a blank slate.  The harder you try, the more resistance you meet, until your head really starts to hurt.

You must look scared, because the next thing he does is glance upwards, casting the camera in the corner a cursory look before patting your hand gently.

“We need to talk.”

“Okay?”

“Not here.”  The intensity in his eyes takes you back to a moment you shared five days ago, though it shows itself in little more than a blinding flash of blue.  Then, the feeling is gone.  “It’s not safe here.”

Unease creases your brow, though the look in his eye tells you not to ask any more questions.  You’d hate to put yourself in further danger.  You’re already compromised, slow and drained even if you are feeling a lot better than you were when you first woke up.  The last thing you need is unnecessary stress.

Peter reaches down beside his chair leg and retrieves a white plastic cup full of water, offering it to you slowly.  You ease yourself into a halfway comfortable sitting position before accepting it.  It takes approximately one millisecond to realise how thirsty you are, swallowing the entire thing in a few staggered gulps.

“Can I have more?”  you croak pathetically, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Peter nods, rising from his seat.  

“Tomorrow,”  he whispers, meeting your eyes with a distinct urgency.  “You’re going to be back on schedule tomorrow.  We’ll talk properly then.”  He straightens up, flashing you his usual pleasant smile as he returns to his regular volume:  “I’ll come back with water and a doctor.  Rest in the meantime.”

You want to ask him what the hell he’s talking about  —  and why he insists on speaking only half of the truth.  The cameras have never really been a problem before.  The only thing you can think of is that it concerns Brenner himself  —  and after everything you’ve been through since arriving at Hawkins Lab, you don’t think that’s too far out of the ball park whatsoever.

With a deep sense of anxiety, you lean back into the pillow and await Peter’s return.

Rest up.  Tomorrow's going to take it out of you.

[radiosandrecordings]

I found the start of a script I was working on in.. apparently June last year. It was supposed to be for a podfic because I wanted to do my own travelling-to-the-safehouse fic but apparently this is as far as I got. I think it’s pretty good though so may as well post it. Left in all the ah... More creative notes I was apparently giving myself for direction.  [Tape clicks on] 

[Sound of two sets of footsteps on stone, reverberating around a confined tunnel. Possibly water drip?]

JON [Firm, but soft. Like a memory foam mattress.] Martin? Are you still with me?

MARTIN [As if distracted, snapping back to himself]  … What? Oh, yes, yes, still… Still here. Sorry it’s just- [He falters, struggling for the words]  Hard. With- With everything. It’s all a bit… [A pause. He’s making vague hand gestures with one hand.] A bit much. 

JON [Flatly] Oh. [Realising] Oh!- Do you- Do you want me to let go of your-

[Walking stops around here] 

MARTIN (OVERLAPPING)  [Firmly, almost panicked] No! Uh- No. No. This is… This is good. 

JON [Trying not to sound pleased. Failing]  Oh! Uh- Good. Good. 

[Several beats of silence as the walking starts up again]

MARTIN  … It’s grounding, really. Everything else is… A lot. Even breathing feels weird. I’m too… Hyper-aware. Of my own lungs. Not sure I breathed in there, not properly anyway. You just kind of dissolve into the background. Even yourself is too much company. Your whole body just kind of feels like a limb you’ve been sitting on too long, all the blood flowed out of it. So it’s… Nice. To have you. As a- As a focus point. 

JON [Muttered] Something to be said about anchors, and all that.

MARTIN  What was that?

JON Nothing, just a… Bit of a personal joke. 

JON (CONT’D)  Anyway. I think there’s light ahead, hopefully this should be the end of the tunnel. No idea where it’ll spit us out though. 

MARTIN Guess we’ll see. 

[Beat]

Just… Don’t let go?

JON  [Unbearly fond. Get it together, gayboy]  ‘Course not. 

[Tape clicks off]

[Tape clicks on] 

[They’re outside. There are outside noises. You know what those sound like, don’t you? I know you’ve been at home for 3 months but please. Please try and remember. Is there wind outside? Maybe a pigeon? It’s south bank there has to be pigeons. You remember pigeons, right? Also, river noises. Boat.]

MARTIN Are we at-

JON (OVERLAPPING) Southbank. Yes. 

MARTIN Southbank? But the river, we’d have to have- 

JON (OVERLAPPING)  Yes, I’m… Not quite sure the same physics applies, when it comes to those tunnels. They’ve spent more time being moved around by a Leitner than not. I think they end where they want to end. Bloody miracle we’re not halfway to Twickenham. Or still in London at all for that matter. 

MARTIN  ...Right.

[He absolutely does not get it] 

MARTIN (CONT’D) [He lets out a breath]  Can we just- Can we just sit? For a minute? 

JON  [Quiet]  Of course, of course…

[Movement as they make their way to a bench and sit]

[A seagull squawks overhead]

MARTIN  The sunrise is nice… 

JON  [Clearly not looking at the sunrise] Yeah, it is…

MARTIN  Do you have any idea what time it is?

JON  I’d say… Just coming up on seven.

MARTIN What, Beholding goes to the trouble of telling you that and it can’t even pin it to the minute? 

JON Martin, not to sound like the most stereotypical Englishman in the world, but we’re on South Bank. I just looked over at Big Ben. 

MARTIN Oh- Er- Right. 

[A sigh. He relaxes from all the wound up tension]

… God it really is just there isn’t it. Like, it’s one of those things that, if you didn’t grow up here, you don’t really get that it’s… Real, y’know? It’s like, you can see it every day and never quite get past the notion that it’s something that only exists as… Cheap, shitty fridge magnets and… And novelty t-shirts. 

… Does that make sense? No, no sorry I’m rambling-

JON (CUTTING HIM OFF) [Quick, reassuring]  No, no I get what you mean. 

[A pause. He’s searching for something to fill the empty air, desperate not to leave a silence between them. It’s only tangentially on topic, but it will do]

… I grew up in Bournemouth. Did I ever tell you that? 

MARTIN [Voice slightly shaky, but solidifying]  Not in as many words, no. I think you mentioned it, on a… Tape. At some point. Not directly.

[He hesitates] 

… Do you want to tell me about it?

JON [Hesitant. He may not have been Lonely, but he’s spent a fair amount of time trying to diminish himself] Only if you want me to. 

MARTIN But do you want to tell me about it?

JON [Meekly] … Probably not the best story for now, actually. Not terribly interesting. And when it is, it’s just a bit… Miserable, really. Childhood orphaning never really leads upwards in the ways Dickens would have you believe. 

MARTIN ...Some other time then?

JON [Stumbles slightly, as if shocked by the knowledge that there will be times that aren’t this. NOW YOU’VE THROWN HIM OFF HIS RHYTHM!]  Y-yes. Some other time. 

[Pause. 5 Seconds? Ambience. Sound of voices around has started to filter in.]

JON [Slow] I was just… I was thinking. About what- What Peter Lukas said, back in…  [With vehemence] There. And how it was… Partially true, in a way. We may not know each that well but… I’d like to change that. If- If you do. 

MARTIN [Soft] I would like that. 

[Content hum] 

… Tell me something non-miserable, then. 

JON What?

MARTIN About yourself. Something that isn’t, I dunno, doom and gloom. What about, mmm, favourite colour?

JON [Amused, mock scolding] Are you five?

MARTIN Humour me!

JON Fine, fine… Actually, no. 

MARTIN No?

JON  No, you tell me what you think it is. 

MARTIN [Under his breath] I tell you what I think…

[Contemplative] Okay. Okay. What is… What is Jonathan Sims’ favourite colour… You used to wear a lot of green around the office, dark jumpers and tweed jackets and stuff… But I’m half convinced you just thought it was a ‘professional’ colour, to match your fancy new job. I think it’s… I think it’s purple. 

JON [Surprised]  Purple? Why 

MARTIN When… When you were in the hospital… Georgie stuck some photos up on the wall next to your bed. Old ones, polaroids, but in a kind of artsy way since they clearly weren’t from anywhere before the 2000′s. They were you in uni, and you had this ridiculous purple streak in your hair. So… Purple. 

JON [Quietly mouthing the words along, not quite processing] Had a purple streak in Uni…

[Startled, just processed fully the implications] Wait, you met Georgie?

MARTIN  Not in the hospital, a bit later in the Institute yeah, but… That’s another story for later. No, we never met in the hospital, I never quite felt…

[Grimace] Up to company, when I was there.

JON Right, of course.  I remember that, though. Some time in my second year; I got a bit tired of people assuming I was a post-grad student and thought I’d try and dye my grey streaks purple. It fit in with the sort of… Aesthetic, I was cultivating at the time. 

MARTIN [Absentmindedly, almost as if he doesn’t realise he’s saying it] I always liked your grey streaks.

JON [Shocked Pikachu but he’s got Dreamworks single raised eyebrow syndrome] Oh?

MARTIN [Oh shit, oh fuck, did I say that out loud] It’s just… Y’know. Nice. Not something you should want to hide. 

[Quickly changing the subject] … You didn’t answer though. Am I right or wrong? 

JON [Slow, amused. In a visual medium he’d be spreading his hands out] You got me.

MARTIN [Inordinately pleased] Really? Huh. Okay.  Guess mine. And no Knowing!

JON Oh, gosh, uhm… Yellow?

MARTIN [Hah!] Green! 

JON [Audibly :D because Martin laughed] Green? Why? 

MARTIN [Hummed] Mm, I dunno. Just something about it. 

[Volume of crowd has increased considerably now]

MARTIN [Slightly more nervous. The slight break in conversation gave him time to notice the people beginning to crowd around]

- 

I apparently didn’t get to include it in the script, but it was going to be a reveal later that actually, Jon doesn’t have a favourite colour. He just agreed because he wanted to make Martin happy. 

[stuckybarton]

Sucker For Pain i

SUMMARY: You were new to the team, but what everyone didn't know was you weren't so new to the God of Mischief. CHARACTERS: Loki Laufeyson x Ex!Reader [Ex to Lovers again?] WARNINGS: Profanities. Suggestive Themes. Slight Angst and horrible self-image. Grammar Mistakes. English not being my first language. [Not Beta’d tho] WORDS: 2,956 CHAPTERS: [1/3] A/N; Life happened and yeah, didn’t have much time to write. Not my best work for this mini-series, but I’m fighting through for this. Hope you guys enjoy~

PART TWO | PART THREE

MASTERLIST || Join the Taglist

"Agent Y/N Y/L/N." You introduced yourself the first moment you were escorted into the compound by Director Nick Fury. Multiple sets of faces both new and old had come to greet you. For a moment you wouldn't even believe that this is was the new life you would find yourself to be a part of from now on.

Years in the job for SHIELD before disappearing off the grid to get as much information about HYDRA, everyone had thought you had betrayed them and you had accepted that they would think so lowly of you after all the near-deaths you had to endure on the job. Even with the mission becoming more of a death wish, you had accepted the role Nick had given you all those years ago and now you were rewarded, immensely. A spot on the Avengers as part of the Earth's Mightiest Heroes.

The familiar face of Nat was the first to greet you with a hug. A fiercely tight one, it had been so long since you've seen a friend. Then your eyes fell towards the rest of the team; Bucky Barnes, who you had a few close encounters with during your time with HYDRA. You had witness everything they had done to him and stood on trail to clean his name. Steve Rogers, who, with Sharon Carter, had assisted in guarding Steve while SHIELD was still under HYDRA's control. But among the familiar faces, one stood out the most.

Loki Laufeyson.

To many, the man was a snake, a God that had once brought death and destruction in New York. But to you, he was different, this was the man that you had spent your lonely nights with while under the guise of a traitor. It had once just been a physically thing between the two of you, neither wanting to know about each other's lives. You knew he was a God, a man that had wronged the world, but he had never known about you, the woman that had painted yourself as a traitor for the better of the world. The one that had been called every name on the book for the sake of making sure you did your part right.

Then it got serious between the two of you. Admission of love was told between both of your lips. But it was dangerous for you two to be together especially when you were already told by Fury that you can come back to the surface. You didn't know what side he was on, and you did not have the heart to make him choose if the time would come.

So you two parted. A month ago. The pain still throbbing you like an unattended bullet hole right through your heart. It was still so painful to look at him and not remember him crumbling on his knees begging you to stay. The first sob that escaped his lips and forever haunted your dreams. A never-ending loop in the back of your head as your demons screamed at you for breaking an already broken man.

"I for one am happy you're finally here. Another woman to add to an already Man's Man world in the compound." Nat teased glancing towards the other individuals that had come to know the new face. "With introductions out of the way, you've got a lot of explaining to do for the past few years."

You could only smile at your friend. You did have so much to explain to her, things had been murky between you and Clint, but after everything, Nat had refused to believe you would betray them, betray her, and it was finally a relief to be able to return back home, seeing the people that mean the most to you.

"Tell me about it." You muttered allowing Nat to quickly pull your away from the crowd, but it missed your eyes how he was still looking. Ice blue eyes a contract to the burning gaze he had towards you.

Forget about him. Forget about him. You were here for a new opportunity. No him. Never him.

For the next few weeks, everyone had grown to accept you in your new role as part of the Avengers. You kept up with Steve, Bucky, and Sam during their runs. Sam more than happy to finally have someone that had the same pace as him, but only for you to laugh and out run him just to get a reaction out of the high flier. Tony and Bruce had also found a kinship in you, having provided them enough information about HYDRA's experiments and location made most of their missions easier. Then there was Nat and Clint, your confidant in this new life. Every single moment that was not dedicated to a mission was spent with them; may it be movie night or a simple get together outside the compound, often times bringing Wanda and Vision along just to mess with you and call you a 5th wheel of the group.

But among number of members on the team, everyone had noticed you constantly avoided one Thor Odinson and one Loki Laufeyson. The only real time you would even dare talk to either of the brothers would be during training--other than that, you tried your best to avoid them, Loki most especially. Every single moment that would force the two of you to be in the same room, Loki had a glare while you tried your best to avoid his gaze.

Everyone noticed, everyone didn't seem to worry too much. It comes with having a former-villain part of the team. They thought you would eventually get used to the God's presence just as much as they did.

"You ever gonna tell me what's going on between you and Loki?" Nat inquired avoiding your punch.

What you hated the most about sparring with Nat was her capability of multitasking. Talking and snooping about someone else's business while also kicking their ass in the process--this was the predicament you were in right in this very moment.

"Nothing is going on." You muttered landing back first on the mat after being thrown like a rag doll by Nat. Eyes looking at the ceiling, you wondered if it was a good idea to actually come clean to her about her past with the God of Mischief. "I know what he's done to New York and I think you can't blame me for taking precaution when it comes to him."

Nat now comes hovering on top of you, the narrowed eyes and gentle smirk was all you needed to know--she knew it was bullshit. But when she had stopped pushing you for more information, it was enough for you to just change the subject.

"They found Dominic?" You inquired. One of the first big missions that everyone was focusing on was one of the leading Scientist for HYDRA. With the exposure of HYDRA to the world, some of them had moved away and found themselves in much shadier company, much to everyone's radar now spiking.

Dominic Wagner was, in part, partially responsible for the Winter Soldier program in the modern era. One of the pioneers in moving the project into a much younger sets of test subjects. You lost contact with the man as soon as your got back into the surface, but it had also meant a target was on your back when they found out you were a double agent.

"He's in Russia. Wasting away all the funding for the program with parties" Nat points out. "Still a better way to spend the money that abducting kids everywhere."

You nodded, memories of files upon files for the prospects still haunted you to this day.

"When are you taking him out?" You inquired. In your time with the SHIELD, the red in both of your ledger had made you two a hot commodity if the situation present itself as shoot to kill. Neither of you would hesitate. You knew you would now, after everything, but if it means one less bad people in this earth, you would swallow your new morals.

"Fury wants him alive." She pointed out finally standing back up to her own two feet, leaving you on your back, staring at the ceiling in deep thought. "I know as much as you do, we want him dead for everything he has done, but we need him alive so we can get the others."

You nodded, this was one of the few things you had to get used to as part of the team. Death was best solution in SHIELD--at least in your team, not here. As long as you were part of Steve's team, you would need to choose whether or not killing would be the best option. Hope that you weren't so blessed to be given in your time under.

"I get a first shot when we don''t have any use of him anymore." You muttered finally standing back up with Nat's help. Steps faltering at the sight of the God of Mischief, training with the likes of Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, and Bucky Barnes. A weird mix up, but wasn't hard to understand why.

"Why don't you shoot your shots with him for now." Nat teased, finally making you break from staring at the plain black shirt and green sweatshort-clad Loki Laufeyson. "If we try to ignore the death count during his attack, he is sort-of your type in men." Nat wiggled her brows. quick to avoid you as you attempted to swat her in the ass, eyes now turned away from God and his training partners.

"By type, you mean psychotic with possible Daddy-issue? Then you might just be right." You snort.

"I'm offended you think of me as such, Darling"

Jerking your head to the owner of the voice, how the hell did he sneak up behind you without you noticing. You glanced at Nat in panic and like the traitor that she was, made a terrible excuse of being needed in Bruce's lab. Now being left in the man's presence, you could all but remember the last time you had been this close to the man.

Heartbreaks.

Words that you didn't mean.

Words that he didn't mean.

It still hurt you, and you were sure it hurts him just as much, if not more now, finally realizing why there had been a need for a breakup between the two of them all those weeks ago.

"Here I thought I would have someone to trust. You mortals continue to disappoint me." He hissed.

Your eyes glanced at the other training trio, noticing all three of them were in their own little world to even noticed what was going on between the two of them.

"Tell me, Darling..." He whispered, head leaning towards the shell of your ears. The familiar shiver run through your skin as just his voice. Memories of the very things his silver tongue had whispered had you flustered and breathless, more than from your earlier training with Nat. "Was it satisfying to play with a God?"

Before you could even mutter a word, his constantly gentle hand now covered your jaw, emitting a squeak from your lips and stopping you from saying a word. He was never this forceful, nor did he do anything that would hurt you. Was this the true nature of the man you had finally thought you have been the best part of you. To have loved a man that everyone was right to stay away from?

"Or is it shame finally coming to you, to be ever involved with someone like me?"

You tried to pry his hand away from you, but he was too strong--stronger than you could ever think of being.

"Or is this you taking your opportunity to move from one bed to another? Who will it be this time, Y/N? My oaf of a brother or will it be Soldier out of time? Who will you whore this time?"

And you finally snapped. With a resounding slap, all three individuals had heard your attack on the man and Loki finally releasing his hold on your jaws. A chuckle escaped his lips and only brought the first line of tears to fall from your eyes. You never wanted to believe him to be a monster, but here he was, proving her wrong.

"I am in doubt of the foundation of our relationship for the past years, Y/N. I am the God of Mischief and Lies and the only mortal I had ever truly opened to had done this to me. Lied to me for such a long time, lied about the entirety of our relationship."

"You will never understand."

"Oh no," he chuckled darkly, eyes glaring straight into your own. "I understand well enough to know, you would never love someone like me and I deserve every lie and heartache I am enduring because of everything I have ever done in my past."

Before you could defend yourself and the genuinity of your relationship with the God, he had made his excuse. Leaving you to ponder of the true damage of your breakup with Loki, and the aftermath it had now held for the both of you. He was right, you had lied, and either way, their relationship will fall apart because of those lies.

He was the God of Mischief and Lies.

Yet, he did not expect for this biggest lie to break him the most. The separation had been painful, he had always hoped for a better life with you. Then a month passed since your breakup, he sees you, it hits him like a sharp knife to the chest all over again. He experience the pain of a stab to the chest, but it would never compare to the pain of seeing you in this very compound with the truth of your life that you refused to ever open to him.

This was karma coming to haunt him it seems.

It had been well over a week now since the first time he had actually confronted you about everything. It wasn't how he planned for things to go through. He never wanted to hurt you, but he was a monster after all. A monster that his own father had told his people to avoid. A bedtime story to scare mischievous kids into submission.

He had always thought after everything he had to endure, had to do, had to escape, he could finally live a peaceful life. A life to finally start anew. A life where he could finally change for the best. A mortal woman had made him make those ideas come into reality, you had always became the reason why he would never have his redemption in life.

A bitter idea with no possible resolution.

How could he have ever believed that anyone would ever love someone like him? After everything he had ever done, he was never allowed to be loved. You had proved that somehow.

'Mr. Laufeyson, you are needed for a meeting with the team'

Breaking from his little bubble. He sighed finally returning back to reality, into the little comforts the library could give him. The week had been gruelling for him, three individual witnessed the altercation between himself and you. It had spread like wildfire, but thanking the Gods that no one was able to listen to the conversation.

He had to endure most of the questioning. In everyone's eyes, he was, after all, still under everyone's constant scrutiny. A man that no one could trust. But he refused to say a single word knowing you did the same thing. It was better to keep your mouth shut instead of letting people know exactly what had happened. Somehow that brought a smile on his face. He might not share a future with you, but might as well make the most out of making your life a living hell, as much you did it to him.

Shutting the book he was barely even reading, he placed the book back into the shelf before walking his way towards the meeting room.

He could easily teleport, but he preferred to enjoy his moments of peace without his oaf of a brother breathing down his neck or Stark constantly testing his patience with his quips. It also gave him a moment to school his features, he knew well enough about the mission to know you would also be in attendance. Be more invested in this mission than anyone else.

It was a few things he was relearning about you now that you were out in the open as everyone claims you to be. You were a free spirited being that could meld with anyone you were in the area with. He had watched you throw relentless jabs at Tony during your first few days that had the man surprisingly raise a white flag. But the most dangerous thing he had to learn was the familial relationship you had with one Natasha Romanoff and Clint Burton, two people that he kept his distance with the most.

"Professor Snape has finally graced us with his presence."

Loki has learned since joining the team to choose his battle when it comes to Tony. This was one of those moment. Finding a vacant chair besides his brother, he had taken his seat. A big mistake on his part as he finds from across the table, you sat. In between a glaring Romanoff and Barton.

Wearing a smirk, just to get on the two super spies' nerve, he turned his attention right back into the meeting. He begins formulating a few little schemes to not only get on the two's nerved, but most especially yours.

[epona610]

A Comparison of OUAT Redemption Stories

So I was DMing with someone about a different show entirely, and I brought up OUAT because I loved/hated this show so much and it’s largely based on redemption stories. I was going to briefly explain why I find Hook’s arc so compelling (though not without its flaws, of course) and Regina’s so lacking, but it turns out that I still cannot write briefly about this subject. So I’m posting this here because this is what my blog was originally about, and I find I still feel very much the same way even after a few years have passed. I want to preface this by saying I haven’t rewatched the show since it went off the air, and I certainly could’ve forgotten some things. And I’m obviously biased in that I loathe the character of Regina so much, although here I’m trying to explain exactly why I can’t stand her.

Hook and Regina were both motivated by revenge for the deaths of their first loves. Rumple murdered his ex-wife and Hook’s current lover/partner/co-captain, Milah, so Hook set out to kill Rumple himself, the Dark One, who is one of (if not the) most powerful beings in their world. Hook caused a lot of harm to innocent people as collateral damage, but eventually he gave up on the idea of revenge and basically peacefully coexisted with the guy who had murdered his first love and chopped off his hand. Regina’s mother was the one to kill her first love, but did she go after her? No, she went after the ten-year-old child (Snow) whom her mother had manipulated into telling about her first love (by playing on Snow’s feelings for her dead mother, whom Regina’s mother had murdered). Regina was going after an innocent person from the beginning because she was afraid of her mother. 

Then there’s the scale of the harm done. Regina: literally slaughtered at least two whole villages, sent countless children to be literally eaten by a cannibal, cursed an entire population by permanently altering their minds, has murdered so many people and taken so many hearts she lost track of whose was whose, illegally adopted a child whom she knowingly raised in a town where no one else grew or aged and then gaslit him when he caught on, murdered her father in order to cast the curse. Hook: was a pirate so he has killed people (we learn that his rings come from murder victims, whose names and circumstances he remembers) killed his own father (who had sold him into child slavery) thereby orphaning his little brother, killed David’s father, backhanded Belle across the face once, shot her so she’d cross the town line and lose her memories, sort of turned Baelfire over to Peter Pan (but only after Bae refused to let Hook hide him so I never got why he felt guilty over that honestly). No indiscriminate mass murder that we know of. 

And of course there’s the remorse or utter lack thereof. Regina is constantly defending her actions. I’ll use her own words to illustrate. She at one point says to Snow: “To be fair, I was threatening you. Everyone else just became collateral damage.” And then later we get this infuriating exchange:

Regina: Need I remind you I dedicated years to knocking you down? But nothing could stop you. 

Snow: You took my kingdom, cast your curse, I lost my daughter for 28 years.

Regina: And then you found her. 

Clearly no remorse or recognition for the fact that she stole Emma’s entire childhood from her and her parents. And the classic, said as she was escaping a tree that attacks people’s regret: “I did cast a curse that devastated an entire population. I have tortured and murdered. I’ve done some terrible things. I should be overflowing with regret, but I’m not.” 

I feel that I should add that she ends that last statement with “because it got me my son”. And that sounds lovely, but that means that she doesn’t regret the harm she’s done since getting him (continuing to enslave and sexually abuse her victims, murdering Graham, attempting to murder the entire town so Henry would have nobody else to love) or even more notably, the harm she’s done to Henry (raising him in a psychologically unhealthy environment, cursing him in an attempt to curse his mother, gaslighting him, attempting to murder his entire family, altering his memories, etc.) Regina says time and again that she “gave up on revenge” against Snow, but as far as I can tell, she only decided she was satisfied because she’d succeeded in irreparably harming Snow. She took away her chance to raise her daughter, who ended up being raised in an abusive foster system and felt obligated to give up her own child. 

And then I compare that to Hook’s apologizing and making things right with people he’s hurt, like Ursula, his younger brother Liam, and David. And then he and Belle become close friends and eventually they have this conversation:

Belle: I’m sorry, I can’t stay here. If Rumple finds you harboring me...

Hook: His wrath will be an added bonus.

Belle: I don’t understand. Why would you risk your life for me?

Hook: Long ago, I... I tried to kill you in the queen’s castle once. I failed. But along the way, I did something I can live with no longer. I laid a hand on you. And there’s the matter of my shooting you at the town line.

Belle: Yeah, well. You’ve changed since all that.  

Hook: Maybe. I have a long road to travel before I can be someone I can be proud of. Despite the forgiveness of others, I must forgive myself, and I’m not there yet.

So yeah, that’s a summary of why I find Hook’s redemption arc to be (somewhat) believable and satisfying and Regina’s to be... basically nonexistent. The show tells us she’s a hero and a good person now, but she never apologizes or shows remorse. She makes it abundantly clear that she’s doing good only in the hopes of getting happiness for herself, which she absolutely feels entitled to even though she’s taken it from so many others (the amount of times she complained about not getting what she wants despite occasionally doing the right thing is incredible). She still even has a bunch of hearts whose owners she apparently forgot! There’s no indication that guilt weighs on her at all, or that she even feels any guilt. I can’t buy a “redemption” from someone who never shows remorse or accepts responsibility.

Note: these quotations weren’t taken from memory, nor did I go back and watch the episodes. They came from the OUAT transcripts found here.

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Finale

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 10 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings in this Chapter: strong language; slight reference to past sexual abuse; fluff 

Word Count: 6,700+

Author’s Note: Guys... the finale! I’m crying actual tears lmao. Thank you for reading my words. It means the world.

~

The New Compound, July 2025, 7:09pm

      The extra hour of sunlight this time of year was the easiest excuse to use for lounging on the roof to watch the sun set slowly. The compound no longer touches the clouds, but it still provides a rich view of the landscape across. There is no blowing of horns or shouts of the road hecklers; it’s a simple hour of solace to rest your chin against your arms, eat your snacks, and watch the sky change colors until nothing remains but the possibility of counting the stars. 

“Hey… can I sit here?”

Your heart does a little jump at the sound of his voice. Traitor, you want to say to the pesky organ, but remain quiet as Steve wanders over to stand by you. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Do what you will, Captain.” It’s simple enough of a response, you figure. You look down at the granola bar in your hand, turning it over a few times before rolling your eyes at the silly gesture. “Granola bar?”

He nods, watching as you snap it in half, and grabs the piece. “Thanks.”

You eat in cooperative silence. You take small bites, saving the granola bar so you have something to focus on during the length of time Steve decides to stay up here. He seems to be doing the same. “So what brings you out here? Another depressive episode?”

“I happen to have the perfect amount of depressive episodes, thank you very much.”

You snort, “Ditto.”

He takes a small bite and rolls the granola over his tongue. “No, I uh… I actually came out here to watch the sunset.”

“That’s sweet.” You shrug and admit your reason to him without a second thought. “I came out here to be sad, so.”

“Thor’s visit isn’t doing you any good?”

Thor is genuinely looking better. He’s started braiding his hair again, exercising with the help of Quill and Bruce, and participating in conversation without being addressed first. Seeing him makes you happy, but there’s still a glint in his eyes that reminds you of the lowest point of his life. And his lowest point was also yours. Sometimes you just want to forget. “He looks better. Healthier, got some light back in his eyes. It’s just whenever we look at each other we think of the same thing, I guess.”

Steve hums low and his shoulder brushes yours. “Loki.”

“It’s good to reminisce and all but I’ve got my limits,” you say.

“What was the special connection between you and Loki anyway?”

You grin at such an innocent question. Steve had never been close to Loki, didn’t really like him much, but he tolerated the God wandering about. You figure he genuinely wants to know. “I met him a little bit before I was assaulted. Everyone in the compound had their suspicions but no one asked. It was like they were avoiding me but also trying to help, I don’t really know. It was a weird time. And Loki, after we caught that dragon thing and really, really properly met, just straight up asked me why I was so distant all of a sudden.” Your chest warms at the memory.  “I told him. And you know what the first thing he said to me was?”   

Steve shakes his head a little and his eyes follow the tilt of your mouth. “‘What a cunt’.”  

He startles himself into a laugh, the rough word not expected. You continue, “It was the first time I laughed in four months.”

Steve follows your gaze out to the sunset. He suddenly feels guilty, out of the loop, sad. You had only mentioned your assault to him once when you discovered Tony’s afterlife gifts, and he never brought it up again. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were-”

“Bucky had just moved into the tower and all of your attention was on him. I don’t blame you for not seeing me.”

It’s true, but Steve doesn’t forgive himself. He’s had two years to check up on you and because of his own selfish choice, he’s let you slip from his fingers. A question bubbles from the back of his mind — one that he doesn’t think twice about finally asking. If he does, he won’t ask.  “Do you miss… me?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“Sam put the idea in my head and—”

You sigh, “Steve, it’s the fact that he had to put the idea in your head. I can lie and say I’ve been all fine and dandy, or I can tell the truth and say I’ve been all fine and dandy. Take your pick.”

Steve stares at you for a long moment, mouth parting around invisible words. You’re staring at the sunset, avoiding his gaze but aware of his eyes on you, and he misses you. He truly, terribly, misses you. He decides he’s got nothing more to lose — he’s already lost you. “Well, I miss you. Do with that what you will.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes: wind in your ears, legs shifting when too much weight has been applied, tiny sniffs of the nose. You don’t really know what to do with that information. Steve misses you. And you miss him. But he doesn’t deserve to know that. There’s been no apology from him, just things he’ll do to appease Sam. 

At the three minute mark, you groan quietly and turn to him. “Are you seriously still going to watch the sunset up here?”

Steve smirks and watches you from his peripheral. He really has missed being on the receiving end of your various tones of voices. “I have been told that I’m impossible to get rid of, so yeah.”

His company isn’t all that bad.  

Present Day, 2025, 9:07am

      Perhaps there were good things that came from being locked up for over two weeks, alone. Last time you were locked up with the team and there was absolutely no special treatment after that. Now you’re resisting the urge to burst out laughing as Steve piles on the seventh massive pancake on your plate; or rolling your eyes as Sam keeps asking if you want more maple syrup — ‘What flavor? We’ve got six!’ — and Peter’s drowning Bucky with questions about who he encountered at the wedding. 

“Is it the same as Netflix Narcos?”

“No,” you say bluntly. 

“Is the Amazon series legit? Like, did Omar really kill the DEA agent?”

“No.”

“Is Omar as evil as they say?”

“No.”

“Damn,” Peter groans, piling a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. “Nothing’s as exciting as it seems, huh?”

Everyone looks to him, then to each other.

Steve clears his throat, “I was literally shot.”

Mouth full, you follow. “And I was abused for years.”

“And I had to deal with them while with HYDRA,” Bucky says with his mouth full too.

“Man, they shot at me. That counts,” Sam adds.

“And I finally got to use the shield. While being shot at,” Scott says.

You interject, “Technically I was being shot at.”

Even with such a cloud of violence, with gruesome memories — memories that would just be shoveled into the pile of things that no one is ever going to talk about again  — you all begin laughing. Poor Peter missed out on a lot, but he can put two and two together. He knows this is his only chance to ask before you all lock it away and call it just another mission. It doesn’t hurt to humor him. 

And even though you won’t mention it to any one else unless they ask — this wasn’t just another mission for you or Steve. Things have changed and the both of you know it. The aches within your chest are no longer negative or a bother, but instead are blooming flowers that have laid dormant for years. You’ve been plucking petals for as long as the two of you can remember, and it’s about damn time you both end up on the same page. 

Everything has been quiet. Sure, there are bounties on everyone’s head but when is there not? You’ve pissed off more cartel leaders and gang leaders and political enemies than you can count on two hands, so this enemy territory is not all that foreign. You recognize the high trees, the gray skies, the mud beneath your boots. But you’ve got friends on your team that know how to climb those trees; friends on your team that know how to move the clouds and make the sky the talk; friends on your team that would hump through mud and snow watching your six. 

You can’t believe you even thought about leaving after the mission in the first place. This is where you belong, where all of you belong, because you’re the only ones with good hearts who qualify for the job. 

As breakfast winds down, Steve takes the opportunity to sprinkle in moments of long-awaited public displays of affection. When you go to refill your orange juice, he sneaks a kiss on your cheek. When you go to wash your plate, he makes sure Peter is looking the other way before patting your ass. And when you’re the one to envelope his slim waist from behind, he melts in your combined warmth.  

“So, about our date,” Steve inquires, cheeks turning pink but voice unwavering. He looks brand new, refreshed, and there’s a shine in his eyes that you haven’t seen since forever. You can’t remember the last time you have, but you figure it must have been back when the world hadn’t yet swallowed him whole. Now, he’s burning bright with the youth his soul has missed. 

You jump up and down, “Ooo, exciting!”

Steve takes you by the waist, swinging you in every direction. It’s uncoordinated, messy, and not exactly dancing but it’s pure. “Chinese? Pizza? Just fries?”

“¿Por qué no los tres?” Pursing your lips, you wait for his answer. 

“That can be arranged.”

You gasp dramatically, “You’re spoiling me.”

“Well I have two years to make up for it.”

That startles a laugh from deep inside your chest. “That’s gonna be our inside joke now, huh? Two of the worst years of our lives and we’re joking about it.”

He blushes along with you. “I think that describes our relationship perfectly.”

“Our relationship…” Your voice comes out like a melodic whisper and Steve feels it in his bones.

He grins down at you but before he can respond, someone enters the common room rather cautiously. 

“Oh, now what the hell are you doing here?” Steve demands, pushing you to stand behind him. The gesture is nice, but completely unnecessary. Friday would have alerted the team if someone entered the grounds armed. 

Agent Kavert raises his hands, “Relax. I’m not here to arrest you or anything.”

Steve tries to move his shoulders in a way where Agent Kavert can’t see your head. But you maneuver around him, somehow ending up peeking your head through Steve’s underarm. “If I know the law, and I think I do, you can’t really arrest someone in their own house anyway, right?” You pat Steve repeatedly on his side. “Right?”

Before Steve can respond, Agent Kavert speaks. With Steve guarding you, it seems the only thing Agent Kavert wants to do is get in and get out as fast as he can. “I just came to apologize. Ballistics came back and the evidence does show that you didn’t kill Ernesto Vega. It was Ramirez’s issued gun.”

Yeah, you think. The gun Seda stole.

“Oh, what a breath of relief! I almost forgot I was there.”

He sighs and his lips pull into a small smile. “You’re not gonna tell me where Ramirez is, huh?”

Steve takes this as his cue to leave you two alone, but not before squeezing your hand on his way out. He nods over to Peter, who’s still crouching in the kitchen, unseen by Kavert. Peter gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up,  happy to spy for his Captain. But you know he’s really asking Peter to take care of you while he’s gone.  

You let out a heavy sigh. Omar has been wanted for years for another murder he didn’t even commit. And now, he’s wanted for another. He may be a giant with morals, but even he can’t escape the gruesome reality that plagues the wicked. 

“I don’t even know where he is. If you came looking for answers—”

“No, I just… Everything’s been so fucked up since half the universe came back. And the possibility of an Avenger being bad, having played us for years — I think it just scared a lot of people.” Agent Kavert actually looks sincere. He adjusts his footing and chuckles a little under his breath. There’s a fine line creasing his forehead, but it isn’t formed from stress. He’s smiling, an honest look, and his eyebrows pull inward. “And Shakespeare? Really?”

Rolling your eyes, you shrug and lean back against the counter. “When half the world disappears and takes your family and friends with it, there’s really not much else to do.” 

And besides, Loki was really into Shakespeare.

You continue, deciding at the last second to throw Agent Kavert a bone about your past. “Shield didn’t know but Nick Fury did. So did Pierce. And when Shield fell, Fury just hid it even more.” You give him a half smile. “We weren’t helping the cartel. We were slowly taking it apart.”

Agent Kavert nods, thinking it over. “The deal Jackeline made with us was pretty simple. She’d tell us all the inside secrets that she knew and in exchange, no charges against her and none so serious for you.”

Your shoulders slump and you shoot him a blank stare. “Was it really that simple? Like, I could have just used her as my one free call?”

“Joke all you want. You should have called us when Shield fell. The double agent thing was risky and everyone needs help taking down a giant like that.”

“I did have help. Involving more people was never planned.”

“He was just as much our mission as he was yours.”

Agent Kavert, as sorry as he looks, still doesn’t seem to get it. But that’s fine, you think. Not everyone can. And you’re not in the mood to argue anymore. “No… he wasn’t.”

He seems to read your mind because he simply accepts your answer. “I really am sorry for accusing you. And for the government arresting you alone and letting the white man go free.”

A tiny snort tickles your nostrils. Agent Kavert is white, and it’s even more amusing considering he’s being serious. “Thanks… I guess.”

He turns to leave, seemingly normal, until he spins on his heel and claps his hands. “Oh! And by the way — don’t leave the country. The charges of conspiracy and murder have all been dropped. But there’s evidence of drug smuggling. So, you’re on house arrest.”

Your eyes widen and you reply with a sarcastic yell. “Thanks!” He turns to leave again. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

He glances over his shoulder, “Could not have let you just get away with it. Some of that smuggling was under no order from Shield at all.”

“You know I can easily disable that ugly ass ankle bracelet you’re about to give me?”

He chuckles low, and finally waves goodbye. “Goodbye, Agent Y/LN.”

You stand dumbfounded, slightly annoyed, but you figure it’s better than actual jail time. Peter rises from his hiding spot and walks over to you, blowing air from his mouth. “Friend of yours?”

You whip around to point a finger, scream and laugh mixing into one. “No friend!”

Peter finally hears that accent Steve can’t stop talking about.

       It’s a tiny portrait, sealed in a tiny frame and hidden in a tiny room. The frame is black with professional wooden carvings that make the sides look like perfectly detailed tree trunks. It’s in between the portrait of Tony and Natasha’s bracelet. Tony wears the same AC/DC shirt Steve has somehow stolen and claimed as his own. He’s got this sarcastic grin, some type of wrench in one hand while his other rests on his hip. He stands in his lab, glasses pushed up onto his head and black soot smudged on his cheek. You think Peter snapped the photo back in 2017. 

But the middle portrait is your favorite. It’s the only photo he ever allowed to be taken of him. Brushing your index finger against the glass, you trace the small outlines of Loki’s jawline, to his thin pink lips, to the bulb of his nose, to the waves of his hair. He sits caught off guard, book in his hand and in regular human clothing. He shoots a rather annoyed but joyful look over his shoulder as the camera was shoved in his face. You know for sure Wanda took that photo.

“You’re not dead,” you say as you study the blue of his frozen eyes. A God doesn’t die, you remember him saying. Loki was wrong about a lot of things, but you pray he wasn’t wrong about this. There’s a small part of you that wants to speak the same words to Tony and Natasha, but there’s only so many times the world’s axis can shift for a miracle. You tap the glass, sighing a breath of acceptance, and finally let go. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Smiling up at the ceiling, you think you’re right about this one.

      It’s quiet. The only sounds are the mild ripping of wrapping paper and small ‘thank you’s’ from the team. Everyone got each other something — granted, everyone got something small for everyone. No matter how much Tony joked about still splurging on Christmas shopping, his promises weren’t exactly kept. He’s gotten everyone things they actually need or wanted. Steve, a new drawing pad; Natasha, a bright pink knit sweater; Rhodey, a new watch; Bruce, a pair of sunglasses; Nebula, a dark blue knitted sweater that she immediately presses against her cheek, eyes focused on the ground as she savors the soft brush; you, the full collection of Shakespeare's plays and sonnets. And he finally presents the baby’s crib to Pepper, constructed three weeks after she originally asked him to. 

“I know how much you like to reenact A Midsummer Night’s Dream in your room,” Tony grins at you. Biting your bottom lip, you throw yourself at him and hug him tight. He returns the hug with just as much strength, if not more. 

As the night goes on and midnight rings, your small group exchanges tight-lipped merry Christmas’s and happy holidays. Natasha retires to her room, a distant look in her eyes as she says goodnight. No one knows where Clint is.

Steve nudges your elbow with his once the room empties. He holds out a box with festive wrapping — snowmen with carrots for noses and a variety of pebbled smiles. “From me and Okoye.”

“You got me a gift?”

Steve’s brow furrows as he nods like it’s obvious. “Of course. You’re my friend.”

“Well, now I feel inadequate,” you laugh. It comes out wet and it’s then that you realize you’re tearing up. “I promise to reenact Midsummer for you, okay?”

Steve chuckles, “You got it.”

You unwrap it slowly, half wondering why Steve and Okoye teamed up to get you a present. You. Your stomach churns an innocent whirl. 

It’s a long sleeved vest… or sweater. You can’t really tell until you pull it from the box. It’s intricately designed and it takes a moment for you to finally see it, to finally understand, and the moment you do you exhale a wracked breath. 

It’s not Wakandan fashion. It’s threaded with the colors and swirls of a place you haven’t called home in years. It has red flowers down the vest portion and multicolored rows down the sleeves and back. It’s made from a thick fabric that’s rarely used this century. Vintage — home.

“Steve…”

Steve clears his throat, “Now, I only did the flower parts. Okoye found it unfinished in… um…”

And there, where tags from brands would usually be, is a small threaded engraving. 

‘From Bucky, To our muñeca.’

“He didn’t get to finish it so I thought I would — you know, help? — so it’s really from Buck. Probably an apology for not letting you visit him in Wakanda.”

Steve tries to push out a laugh at his poor joke, but you can see how he’s faltering. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, dragging him down so his knees bend, and pour as much nonverbal thank you’s into the hug. He hesitates at first, arms floating awkwardly, until he swallows his fear and wraps his arms around your waist. He holds you to him tightly and breathes in the sweet scent of your vanilla shampoo. 

“Thank you.” Your voice is small, but Steve regards the delivery as powerful.

You wear it once, that Christmas night, enveloped in its warmth as you slept. In the morning, you hang it in the back of your closet. 

        A knock on your bedroom door sounds through your headphones. Bucky peeks his head in, “Is now a bad time?”

Sitting up, you pull the headphones from your ears. “Nope. Just thinking about how I’ve lived several years in the span of one week.”

Bucky lugs in a sports bag in one hand and a manila file in the other. He places them at the edge of your bed and proceeds to bounce in the available space near you. “Yeah, that can be annoying.”

You attempt to shove him away as he tries to steal your blanket. “Did you need anything?”

“Yeah.” He lets you take it, and simply turns on his side to face you. “What’s gonna happen between you and Steve?”

It’s an innocent question, but you know Bucky well enough to notice when he’s stressed. Steve probably told him to mind his business. “We’re good.”

He inspects your face with squinted eyes, “I know what you’re thinking so cut that shit out. This isn’t one of those missions where the feelings will just go away.”

“Funny thing is, I believe you,” you admit, watching as his face does something unexpected. His smile drops suddenly, like he didn’t expect you to agree with him, and then it’s immediately back full force. 

“Peggy and Steve - right person, wrong time. You and Loki - right person, wrong time. You and Steve, all those years ago — right person, wrong time.” A weird thing happens: you agree with him again. “But now, after everything — right person, right time.”

“It’s just weird feeling like it’ll actually work.”

“That makes us seem like we’re all broken, doll. We’re not.”

You turn so you’re facing him; two mismatched parentheses. “We’re just tired.”

“We’re just tired,” Bucky agrees, smiling. “I’m not saying don’t look over your shoulder whenever you feel like it. Hell, I still look over mine.”

Snorting, you roll closer to hug him. He pulls you into his chest. “You give amazing pep talks.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why they gave that trophy to Steve.” Bucky shares the intimate moment for as long as it takes before the blanket starts overheating. He groans as he sits up to retrieve the things he brought with him.  “By the way, our mutual friend sends one last warm regards.”

Bucky throws the sports bag onto your lap. “What’s this?”

“Your shit.”

You don’t even want to ask him how he packed your things without your knowledge. “Kicking me out, Barnes?”

“Clothes, toothbrush, shampoo and conditioner, pads, the quilt I just finished knitting thank you very much,” Bucky lists and hands you the file. “Maribel found him.”

“Ramirez?”

“Your dad.” 

You snap your head up to look at him. Bucky expects to see anger, hurt, maybe even betrayal. He was prepared for it. But you just look confused, lost for words, maybe even scared. “Goes by Richard these days. Lives with his wife in Wisconsin, no kids, keeps to himself.” 

You flip through the files, holding your breath. The file is small, Richard’s information only covering the first page, the rest just drabble. He seems relatively normal, looks normal even; normal job, normal credit score, normal upbringing. It doesn’t even seem real. You close the file and set it aside. “So you are sending me away?”

Bucky smirks, “It’s a suggestion. But I took the liberty of doing the hard part for you.”

“Yeah, because packing my lady products is the climax of this story.”

It didn’t go unnoticed that Bucky called Richard your ‘dad’. Everyone either referred to Ernesto as ‘your father’ or by his name. Steve had said ‘dad’ a few times before he met him, then he never said it again. Hell, even you did sometimes. 

It’s a sweet distinction and you’re certain Bucky said it on purpose. Bucky takes your hands in his, “It’s been a long time coming. But at least we can both say that the people who hurt us can’t hurt us any longer.” 

You can. You really can.

       Bucky’s already packed Steve’s shit as well. Steve’s just shoving extra socks into his bag when someone knocks on the door. He expects Bucky or Sam, final words of encouragement, but it’s Scott. And he’s standing there grinning like a mad man. 

“So, what’s the verdict, Rogers? You going after her or not?”

Steve huffs a laugh, “Think you already know the answer to that, Lang.”

Scott closes the door behind him and leans back against it. He shoves his hands in his sweater pockets, “Not that it should matter, shut me up if I cross any line, but everyone supports this.”

“Weirdly, I think it does matter. We’ve had you guys picking sides for two years. Selfishly. Like we were having a fucking civil war after everything.”

“Yeah, well.” 

Steve huffs a laugh. It’s always going to surprise him just how comfortable Scott is around him now. Not afraid to tease him or call him out on something he doesn’t agree with. It’s refreshing.

“I’m not giving up on her, Scott. Not again.”

Scott nods. Perhaps breaking the mission ethic code wasn’t a bad thing after all, Scott thinks. He gives Steve a proud smile, genuine. “Then I hereby declare our hanging conversation officially closed.”

        Steve wanders from his bedroom, to the conference room, to the main living room without an end destination in mind, seeming to just follow his quick feet as they lead him around the halls of the compound. He’s proud of himself, really, because he truly believes he’s learned to swallow his pride, has opened himself up to the possibility of being happy, and accepted that the world has changed and will continue to alter whether he likes it or not. He was, is, and will always be a man out of time — he’ll never fit but goddamn does he feel settled. He hasn’t felt this sane since before the war — which one? — so he relishes in the feeling for a few calm seconds. 

He feels tears well-up on his water line and feels the pressure in his temples. He’s at a crossroads — both proud of himself for finally choosing the path he wants and relieved that this week, this mission he has dreaded for almost ten years, is over. He doesn’t know if he should sleep for a month or occupy his time with other things awaiting repair. A build up of five years, grief and loss and happiness all weirdly mixed into one pot, and Steve simply hasn’t noticed the improper portions of each ingredient. 

It’s too much.

He thinks about his mental health. Shot to Hell, he jokes with himself. He’s already got the virtual therapy appointments scheduled. He figures he’ll get better with time and if Steve knows one thing for sure, it’s that he’s got a whole lot of that.

He thinks about Sam and Bucky and Scott — his three best friends that have gone to the ends of the Earth and back for him, and who would proudly do it all over again. He thinks about their kind words, their gentle touch, their devotion that Steve still sometimes feels he doesn’t deserve. 

And he thinks about you. To anyone else, this was written in the damn stars. No, there wasn’t anything extremely obvious in the first few years. You were friends. Friends that grew to consider each other teammates. Teammates that drew a drop of blood while fighting on opposite sides. Teammates that recognized the true endgame, teammates that helped each other escape, teammates that went silent for two years. Two years of no contact, no signal of survival. Then again, teammates who stood by as their world crumbled around them. Teammates who grew to be friends again, leaning on free shoulders and seeking help through happy conversations and long nights. Friends that brought the world together again, only to rip each other from their own. Friends into the most bizarre of enemies. And enemies back to teammates. 

Steve wipes a hand down his face as he fixes the strap over his shoulder. The common room is empty — he likes it this way. That means everyone is either napping, getting food, visiting friends or family, simply living life. The silence is therapeutic. 

His eyes fall on a crooked picture frame near the television. He tries to ignore it, almost to the door and ready for another road trip, but he steps back. Then forward, then back again. He groans in frustration of himself and moves to turn the frame back in place, holding it for a few seconds until it stays. But as he lets go, it tilts once more. He tries again — it tilts back. 

He pulls the frame from the hook and turns it over. He rightly freezes, the presence of a small pink paper airplane taped near the edge knocking the wind from his constricting lungs. He pulls it off, careful to not tear the delicate post-it. 

He never found it. Natasha probably placed it behind this very picture frame in the other compound for him to find. Surely the explosion should have destroyed it — but it didn’t. It’s right here, perfectly intact, just a smudge of dirt on one of its wings. The frame hadn’t been damaged either. It’s real. 

He holds the thin piece of paper like it’s the most precious thing in the world. 

Steve turns it over between his fingers a few more times, before he carefully folds it back in half and puts it in his wallet. “You’ve got some nerve, Nat. But I hear ya.”

       Steve decides to write you back. He hides the letter in that sweater he knows you don’t wear anymore, in the far back of your closet, and marvels at the intricate stitching while he can. He poured his heart out, even if it’s not guaranteed you’ll ever see it. 

     ‘Yes, I found your letter. I found it when I was looking for perfume in your suitcase. The tape was loose and I violated your privacy. I’m truly sorry for that. 

But I felt compelled to write you back, in case the reverse happened and I died instead of you. I didn’t write it then, when you were drying your hair in front of that impossibly small mirror you so weirdly called ‘a stupid little bitch’. And you looked so beautiful. But I’m writing it now and maybe I’ll share it with you in person when we’re both ready.      

When the world turned to dust, I held on to you. I know exactly why. Natasha bugged me about it also, teasing me whenever I would glance at you too long, or give you the last remaining Oreos I was planning on eating, or whenever I would leave your room in the mornings after a nightmare. She knew nothing was happening between us, but she had this smile whenever she caught me. Like she was happy I was comforting you, and in turn seeking comfort for myself. 

You remember how her smile would tilt up more on the left side? 

There isn’t a proper way to truly apologize for hurting you. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. You at least deserve that. 

I returned a different man. And I think that was for the better.

Yes, I wanted the quiet life. I still think I do. And I think you know this — you have always seen right through me.      

I now know what Natasha saw. You irritate me, you damn near make me want to choke myself out, but I care for you. We hold each other up, and I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be.      

You’re my best friend — I hope I’m one of yours.

Steve.’

       There’s no one currently in the compound who really knows how to change the battery in your car. Bucky tries, does a rather good job too, but he claims he’s winging it and that you should call a mechanic just in case. He leaves you there with two random batteries on the ground, hood of your car open, and without any idea of what to do next. So you chill and wait for the mechanic you hope isn’t going to jack up the price just because he knows who you are. 

But he doesn’t seem fazed by you at all — or at the fact he just had to drive through countless checkpoints and security checks just to get on Avengers property. He changes the battery and changes the oil, hooking you up with as many upgrades he can. He even offers to wash it until you thank him repeatedly and that Really, really, you don’t have to do that. Thank you so much!

“Quite a garage you got here.”

There are unfinished projects and random wires falling from the ceiling and enough tools to supply five garages. It’s messy, but it was Tony’s. You accept the compliment and see him out. 

“Eh, make sure those windshield wipers work. I hear it’s gonna rain tomorrow.”

You thank him again. The clouds to the west are gray, getting darker as the expanse stretches, but from where you’re standing everything’s blue. You figure the mechanic was right: it’s gonna rain, and it’s gonna rain hard. 

The mechanic did good, all things considered. You never thought your old, beat-up Honda could look a few years younger. You flick one of the wipers lightly, testing its strength. It holds, as does the other, but when you go to lift it up it stops halfway. Without wanting to break it, you don’t force it. There’s something blocking the switch. 

You grab it before it can accidentally fall into a deep slot; the figurehead of a man, curly hair and beard that matches Steve’s, who also has a prominent and strong nose. You turn the coin over a few times before looking around the garage, down the street, at the remote area where the mechanic has just left. Standing there, mouth agape, you wonder just how in the world you missed the mechanic placing it there.

You were lacking in the spy department nowadays. Oops.

You know you’re not going to find Ramirez. But him giving this back to you? It was his way of saying he’s alright and that he owes you many thanks. 

You pocket the coin and accept the fact you just got bested.

It should take a few hours before you hit the first motel. Wisconsin isn’t that far, but you do have to pass through about hundred “middle of nowhere’s”. You pull out of the garage and check your mirrors — completely unaware of the super soldier running full speed to the passenger door. Steve carefully throws it open, somewhat aware of his strength, and lands into the seat beside you.

You hit the brakes hard. “Oh my! Rogers!”

Steve sucks in a few heavy breaths, like he literally ran across the compound to make it. “What? I startle you?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing? Aren’t you on house arrest?”

You squint at him, “Touche.” Putting the car in park, you turn your whole body to face him. “Answer my question.”

“Thought you were just gonna leave without saying goodbye?” Steve asks, expression much more teasing than serious.

“I’ll be gone for three days tops,” you say, waving your hand in the air. Steve smiles at you, seemingly waiting for you to speak again. You roll your eyes, “You’re coming with me, aren’t you?”

Steve lifts up the small duffel bag you hadn’t seen when he first got into the car. He throws it into the backseat and smiles lovingly at you. “I’ve been told that I’m impossible to get rid of, so yeah.”

“Rhodey said that the ankle bracelet they gave me wasn’t a trusted model. Easy to break off, like they did it on purpose.” You lean toward him, holding your chin up with the palm of your hand. “Should be able to drive free for a few weeks before they suspect anything.”

“Already booked us a cabin for Thanksgiving.”

“What makes you think that I even want you to accompany me on this road trip? Did you like the first one?”

Steve clears his throat and mimes like he’s writing on paper. The next words out of his mouth make your legs turn cold. “No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be, there’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you.”

You blink multiple times, as if that would fix your ears. “...You. Fucking. Didn’t.” Steve reaches over to try and hug you. “No, don’t.” He squeezes harder, smooshing your face in his chest. “Steeeeve!”

“It fell out of your suitcase during the mission and I just… looked,” Steve reasons. He allows you to escape his grip.

“You just looked?”

Steve sighs. He really does look guilty. He pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers tickle your skin. “I’m sorry I read it. I’ll get out of this car for real if you want me to.”

You arch an eyebrow, “You’re a little shit, but I’m not mad. No one understands privacy these days.”

Steve smiles wide enough for his dimples to pop and his eyes to crinkle. “I’d follow you anywhere, doll.”

“Anywhere?”

“Just name it.”

Humming low, you lean forward. He follows your direction like you’re a lighthouse beaming with light, capturing your lips with his in a sweet kiss. He hooks a large hand behind your head to press you to him harder. You smell like that vanilla scented shampoo he loves so much and feels his heart constrict with a pleasant pulse. 

You pull back for air and smile against Steve’s soft lips. 

“Well, I’m headed for the middle of buttfuck Wisconsin—”

“Just drive!”

Bursts of laughter fill the car until you’re past the checkpoints and well onto the long roads. The clouds continue to turn darker but they’re inviting, alluring, and it’s not insane that both of you desire thunderstorms because they remind you of family. 

Steve watches you from the passenger seat, memorizing the contours and edges of your profile. The roots in his heart begin spreading again; the meat of his heart filling with a soothing promise that his time on earth is no longer rootless. He’s dug his feet in, he’s watered all he’s needed to water, and he feels it spreading within him like newly blossomed flowers in the spring. He has a sudden urge to take out his drawing pad to immortalize the way your mouth tilts higher up on the right side when you smile, to record it forever. 

But he’ll remember it. He’ll remember well into this timeline, several years down the road, and even when he’s resting in his grave. So he leans his head back against the seat and chooses to watch the curves of every expression you grace him with. He immortalizes the sound of your voice, the taps of your fingers against the steering wheel, and the accented way you say his name. 

There’s a long drive ahead, but he’s excited for it. He’s excited for you. Steve promises himself that he’ll ask you a million questions, and give you a million answers, and share a million more stories. 

Right now, he just needs to sleep.

~

THE END.

Taglist: @dumb-ass-3 @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise​ @missnighttigress​

[lia-bones]

A thousand splinters of glass

Sirius Balck x Reader

Summary: (Y/N) boyfriend Sirius intrudes too much into her friendship with Remus. When he confronts her with his thoughts, they start fighting.

Warning: angst, Language (defilement and swearing), consumption of alcohol, Hint of violence ... I gess.

(Misspelling, Grammar errors, translation errors.)

Words: 2520

Author note: It was super hard for me to write Sirius like that. But it was a friend's wish and I'm fulfilling it.

(English is not my main language. I apologize for all misspellings, grammar errors, and translation errors💕)

Enjoy Reading 🌻

(not my GIF)

* * *

(Y/N) enter the great hall and take a seat at the Gryffindor table next to her boyfriend Sirius. She looks at her group of friends and still tired, wished them good morning.

"Good morning dear, how did you sleep?" asked the boy next to her after he put a kiss on her temple.

"Oh, very well, unfortunately too short." she replied with a tired smile and put a spoonful of scrambled eggs in her mouth.

"Remus, do you want to do our Arithmancy homework in free period?" she turned to the others Marauder who sat across from her at the table. Remus smiled at her and replied, "Yes, of course. After lunch in the library?"

"Call it a date." (Y/N) winked and went back to her scrambled eggs.

"Hey, I thought I was your boyfriend? What about me?" Sirius grumbled beside her and looked at her confused. She waves it away with a laugh :"You are, but that doesn't mean I can't do homework with a friend. You don't have a free period after lunch you have Divination."

Sirius mumbles something unintelligible but said nothing else. The friends all eat their breakfast and talk about this and that, before they all went to class.

* * *

After noon Remus and (Y/N) met in the library and started their Arithmancy homework. After some time of writing, Remus contacted her and said :"You know, I'm glad you're with Sirius now. You're doing him good." The girl smiled at him and answered :"He's doing me good too. I've got the feeling since I've been with him I've been a lot more confident.I am very happy to have him as my Boyfriend. And of course I'm also happy to have you guys as my friends. I couldn't think of anyone better."

"We're glad to have you too. Finally I'm not the only one holding the boys back." Remus laughed and pulled her into a half-hug with one arm. "yeh somebody has to bring you rule breakers to your senses."

"But I'm really serious (Y/N). Since you've been together he's a lot more relaxed and you make him think before he acts. At least sometimes." Remus told her seriously again.

"I don't want to tell him anything. I like him the way he is. I think sometimes he just needs someone to get him to think again about his ideas before acting. There is no way I want something like the incident in fifth year to happen again." (Y/N) said in a husky voice, put an arm around Remus' shoulders and gave him a short squeeze .

"No, nobody wants that." the boy whispered back and squeezed her once too.

It became quiet and the two pondered their memories of this terrible event for a moment, before they broke the embrace again and continued on with their essays in silent agreement.

* * *

After the last class of the day, (Y/N) and Remus sat in the common room and waited for their other friends.

"What do you think of the book? Have you read it yet? " she asked Moony and with a nod of her head pointed to the book she was reading. Remus put a hand on her shoulder and leaned forward to look at the book. "No but i want..." he is just beginning to speak when the portrait opened and the remaining three Marauders entered the room. " 'e, You two, here you are. What are you doing here?We were looking for you." James called to them and slumped into one of the armchairs. "We just talked, nothing interesting. We have been waiting for you. " declared (Y/N) while she closed her book and placed it on the side table next to her. The boys nodded and Sirius placed a kiss on the (Y/N) head.

Due to the lack of space on the sofa, Sirius sat in the other armchair, instead of next to his girlfriend and Peter sat on the floor between him and James.

The friends talked about everything and nothing for a while and soon landed on James' favorite topic: Lilli Evans

"I mean. She is so perfect. She is beautiful and smart and quick-witted and helpful and friendly. What more could a man want?" enthused James with a dreamy face.

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife'." Quoted Remus softly which made (Y/N) giggle so much that she put her hands over her face and rested her head on his shoulder.

Sirius watched with a raised eyebrow and asked :"What's so funny?"

The girl sat up straight again and wiped her hands over her eyes before answering :"oh Remus just quoted pride and prejudice. You won't know it, it's a fantastic Muggel book."

"Oh, but Moony know this fantastic book?" Sirius asked in a voice tarnished with sarcasm. His friends' eyes fixed on him and (Y/N) briefly shook head in confusion before she answered :"Well, Yes. It's a muggle book. He's half blood. And he reads more than any of us put together."

"My mother gave me the book a few years ago." Remus quietly brought himself into the discussion.

Sirius clicked his tongue and got up from his seat he took a few steps before stopping in front of his girlfriend and saying dryly:" Yeah yeah the perfect perfect Moony.

I understood. We need to talk. Alone." He pointed a finger at the stairs that led to the dormitories. (Y/N) looked up at him from her sitting position, knitted her eyebrows briefly in confusion, then nodded got up and followed him up the stairs.

When she arrived in the boys dormitory, she closed the door behind her and stood in the middle of the room. She watched Sirus go to a cupboard and take out a Bottle of firewhiskey and a glass. He poured himself some and took a sip while staring at her over the rim of his glass. The silence in the room was heavy and thick and the air to cut. Sirius cautiously let (Y/N) play with her fingers nervously. It was not customary for him to be so quiet and well, serious. The last time he acted like this, he had just received a letter from his mother.

Since he still didn't say anything, just looked at her with a serious face, she decided to break the silence in the room. "So what did you want to talk about? "

"You. And what you're pulling off right now." he explained in a low voice.

"Sorry but, I don't know what you're talking about." she said in a calm voice.

That just seemed to upset Sirus more, because now his voice was a lot louder :" Oh don't tell shit. Do you really think I'm so stupid and don't know what crap is going on?" He finished his glass in one gulp and poured himself more.

(Y/N) also got louder now and energetically crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"I already told you I don't know what you mean. What have I done?"

"YOU CHEAT ME YOU FUCKING Slut!" he yelled at her and pointed in her direction with his free hand.

(Y/N) opened her mouth and for a moment. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. Had he just really accused her of cheating on him and had he called her a Slut?

"WHAT HAVE I DONE? I am supposed to have betrayed you? How do you get the stupid idea?" she asked and made a wide movement with her arms. As if she wanted to chase the tension out of the air.

"Don't be so ridiculous. I noticed it myself. You haven't really bothered to hide it. You and a your loverboy." Sirus spat and glared at her. This whole conversation was very confusing (Y/N). She had no idea how he came up with it. It deceived her that he really thought she would do something like that, but at the same time it made her terribly angry.

"If someone here is ridiculous then is you. You are imagining things that don't exist. How can you think that? Who should I cheat on you with, please?" seh shodet back, on her face, spots of deep red anger were slowly forming. Frustrated, she ran a hand through her (y/h/c) hair.

The one across from her growled, clenched his jaw and again emptied his glass, which he immediately refilled.

"With your oh-so-perfect Moony. I see how you behave towards the other. It's stupid of you guys to think that I wouldn't notice. Are you serious. With one of my best friends? But what should I have expected from a slut like you. I wouldn't be surprised if you slept your way through the whole school." he laughed bitterly and screwed up his face.

(Y/N) didn't know what to say for a moment. For a few seconds, she started at Sirius with wide eyes before she said in a lowered voice :" This not true."

"OF COURSE IT IS. DO NOT LIE TO ME. THE WHOLE LAUGHING AND HUGGING AND ALL THE LOOKS IN LOVE.

OH, REMUS ARE WE BOTH LEARNING IN THE LIBRARY TODAY? OH REMUS YOU ARE SO FUNNY. REMUS IS SO SMART, HE READS SO MUCH. BLA BLA BAL." Sirius spoke in a high voice, trying to imitate her. (Y/N) shook her head in frustration. She had tears in her eyes but she didn't allow herself to cry now. Sirius got on with things that didn't exist and she wanted to make that clear to him. "That's not true. Remus and I are just friends! We study together because we're both in Arithmancy. And since when is it forbidden to laugh when someone says something funny? And we don't touch each other all the time. You see things that not there!"

"YES OF COURSE. AND I SHOULD BELIEVE THAT?" Sirius yelled at her and swung the now almost empty bottle firewhiskey through the air.

"Sirius please ..." she was about to start, but was immediately interrupted by him.

"SIRIUS PLEASE. SAVE YOUR WORDS. I should have known that it was stupid to sacrifice my single life for you. I could have had fun with other girls all the time, but no, I was with you. While you chedit on me behind my back. You dirty whore."

(Y/N) eyes got waterier and more watery during his monologue. She bit her tongue so hard that she could already taste blood and she clenched her trembling hands into fists, her nails digging in her palms.

"...Y...you...you now...i...i woud never..." She didn't get very far with her words, it all happens very quickly. Sirius took a step forward, she took a few steps back, bumped her back against the wall and and shut her eyes tightly. A split second later, Sirius 'glass flew across the room and struck the wall just inches from (Y/N)' s head.

"SHUT UP! YOU FUCKING CHEATER BITCH. SHUT UP!"

There was a crash and glass splinter hit the ground like raindrops.

Silence spread across the room and the two started at each other, eyes wide open. The remainder of the firewhiskey, flowed over the floor and watering (Y/N) socks. She took a deep breath and suppressed a scream. Her legs trembled and it took all her strength not to sink to the ground.

Sirius had tears streaming down his red cheeks and he pulled his black hair.

"No ... no ... I ... I swear ... (Y/N) I didn't mean to..." he began to stammer. He took his hands out of his hair and wanted to reach for her.

Slowly he took a few small steps in her direction. Arms outstretched as if to hug her.

(Y/N) shook his head vigorously, bit her lower lip and pressed herself even tighter against the wall.

Sirius stopped at the sight of her and stared at her desperately.

"No, stop it. Just leave it." she whispered in a husky voice and walked along the wall to the door, not taking her eyes off him for a second. With one hand behind your back she looked for the door handle, he followed her movements with his eyes. "No (Y/N) please, please don't go. Let's talk, I'm sorry ... I ... I ..." he begged in a scratchy voice and stretched its arms out to the girl one more time.

"No. I think it's all said." (Y/N) shook her head and opened the door. The restrained tears stung in her eyes but she definitely didn't want to cry in front of him now.

She stumbled backwards out of the room, pulling the door with her.

"Bye Sirius." she whispered hoarsely before she closed the door. Muffled through the door, she hears him calling her name a couple of times, but she just turned on her heels and ran down the hall to the girl dorms.

She stopped at her own dormitory, yanked the door open, entered the room and slammed the door behind her with a loud crack. The room was dark and quiet, the air smelled of fresh linen and cinnamon. None of her roommates were there.

(Y/N) leaned against the closed door and put her hands over her face. A heartbreaking sob escaped her and she slid the door down to the floor.

Now sitting on the floor, she hugged her legs tightly against your chest and buried her head between her knees. Now that she was alone she started to cry. The tears wet her face and the noises that came over her lips sounded heartbreaking. She tasted the salt on her lips and felt her tears seep into her tights.

(Y/N) didn't understand how this could all happen. She hadn't betrayed him. She had nothing with Remus or anyone else.

Yesterday everything was fine, they were happy together, laughed together, and fooled around. Today everything went downhill they fight, they yelled at each other and he accused and insulted them. He had thrown a glass in their direction.

Otherwise Sirius made her heart beat faster, makes it jump in joy or stop beating for a few seconds in love. But now her heart felt more like it was made of a thousand sharp pieces of glass. Broken like the glass on the wall. Broken like their relationship due to a lack of trust from his side.

(Y/N) wanted nothing more than to hide under her blanket, cry and not get up for a long time.

But she felt too weak to get up and go to bed. So she sat on the floor and kept crying into her legs.

[ad1thi]

2020 fic recs!! [Part 2]

part 2 of my 2020 fic recs!! as before, ive limited this to five fics per month; and fics are ordered by the month they were published. This spans fandoms and ships, and hopefully you find something you like!! credit for the idea goes to @iam93percentstardust

***

July

this is the start: @capnwinghead

Clark and Bruce continue raising the Wayne children and encounter a number of challenges along the way.

great minds (love alike): @starklysteve

Steve’s eyes flicks down to Tony’s knees on the floor.

“Are you – are you proposing to me with my ring for you?” Steve asks incredulously, eyes wide and confused.

---

Or, Steve finds Tony’s ring for him, Tony finds Steve’s ring for him. Panic happens.

Marvels Unsolved: @iam93percentstardust

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty web-series about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

it’s a small world after all: @maguna-stxrk

“Great speech.”

Smiling at the compliment, Tony turns around. “Thank y—”

And nearly drops his champagne flute.

His world comes to a stop.

They had only spent a night together, but Tony would recognize those baby blues anywhere.

It’s Steve.

Steve from Tony’s London business trip. Or, as Rhodey has become accustomed to calling him—The Soulmate That Got Away.

you’re in my blood, you’re in my veins: @nethandrake

Tony always figured that if they ever were to break up, it would be like a blaze. Scorching and hot and all-too blinding. Intense like the two of them have always been.

Instead, they break up on a Tuesday, with the rain pelting the windowpane and the midnight silence stifling.

August

Five Times Danny said he’d marry Steve (plus one): @five-wow

Danny humphs. “Look, all I’m saying is, I think I’d probably have married you by now.”

“I’d marry you, too,” Steve says.

Or: An experiment in how many times you can say something before you have to put your money where your mouth is.

Family (You’ve Always Had It): @/SunnyQueen

A black Camaro and a scowling blond was not what Junior had been expecting.

“Hi, sir. You didn’t have to pick me up.”

The blond looked up from the screen on his phone and groaned, completely ignoring Junior's statement. “You are right, I didn't have to."

Ode To Yoga Pants: @riotfalling

OR the continued terrible mating dance of Bucky and Tony, AKA when betting on your friends stops being fun

Through The Years: @hawkbucks

Tony brings home Natasha one day, proclaiming her to be his new sister.

Natasha takes this all in stride.

The broken road that led me home to you: @just-fandomthings

A documented list of conversations between Steve and Danny via text and phone call following the events of 10x22 "Aloha." (Where, even thousands of miles apart, Steve and Danny can't go without talking to each other.)

September

someday, we’ll pass it on to you: @starklysteve

Steve smiles.

Reaching up, he flattens his hand against his son’s far smaller one, curling gently around it. “You wanna be like him?”

“Da!” Peter agrees again.

One year old, and you already know who’s the best of us, Steve pauses to reflect, all his fears chased away by a fierce pride. “Your Dad’s coming home real soon,” he promises, “you should tell him that.”

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

Or, five times Peter did the repulsor pose as a toddler

+ one time he used the repulsors as an adult

Classic Sci Fi: @notdoingsohot

Bucky wakes up to Steve telling him he's lost his memory, but not to panic, it'll only last a few days. Easier said than done when the last thing Bucky remembers is fighting Hydra with the Howlies in WWII.

He tries to make the most of it however, and there's this guy... Tony Stark. It's pretty clear the guy hates Bucky's guts, which is unfortunate because god damn is he a sight.

He tries to figure out what he did to wrong Stark, but everyone just tells him he doesn't want to know.

They were right.

Blooms in Frost: @/Diomedes

Tony coughs up his first petal on the sixth of July. He has been married to the love of his life for two years.

Bury a Hanahaki corpse in earth and it will beget the most beautiful garden. All that love, it is said, must go somewhere.

Hanahaki AU: Established relationship

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

A Single Thread of Gold: @lovelyirony

Rhodey doesn't believe in love at first sight or any of that cheesy shit. He just wants someone who is nice, dependable, and safe.

Tony Stark is Housing Service's little problem for the school year, and now he's stuck in Rhodey's room because he's exploded the last two dorm rooms he's been in and won't live off-campus.

high roller, place your bet: @machi-kun

“Would you kiss Stark for a hundred bucks?”

“I would pay a hundred bucks to kiss him.”

October

press my luck: @omg-just-peachy

But... Steve is almost ten years his junior, and he could be with just about anyone, looking and acting like he does. And then there’s the not so small fact of Tony’s name and net worth and the fact that, okay, Tony had paid for Steve’s grad school tuition, and now he’s worried Steve feels obligated to stay. Or something.

Or, Tony is a billionaire, Steve is a grad student, and they learn to let themselves be taken care of.

see it with the lights out: @starklysteve

Tony goes on a business trip, and he does not - not at all - get jealous of Dodger hogging his husband's chest, a territory otherwise known as Tony's pillow.

(or, Steve goes on an Instagram spree and Tony misses home)

adulthood is looking both ways before you cross the street and getting hit by an airplane: @starkslovemail

It was a perfect plan, if Peter did say so himself.

The Buy In: @dracusfyre

For the ImagineTonyandBucky prompt: Mafia AU with Tony as the Boss (except he's a really good one, making the streets safe, keeping drugs away from kids etc) and Bucky as the detective sent to go undercover to catch him out but ends up realizing he's actually doing more good than harm and they end up falling in love

trinkets of your affection: @starklysteve

Kissed him once for every year I loved him, Steve had written.

By that count, Steve owes him five more kisses now.

Tony traces the words, hands trembling, and tips back a shot of Howard's ancient whiskey. None of it burns anymore.

One day, he'll have lived more days without Steve than there are words in the diary.

For the first time since he'd woken with shrapnel in his chest, Tony fears the future.

----------

Or, five things Tony keeps to remember Steve by, and one thing Steve gives him to remember.

November

“Hey Tony”: @riotfalling

Steve points out that Bucky never calls Tony by his actual name. Bucky doesn’t believe him, until he does.

Remembering You is Hard to Do: @lovelyirony

“The future’s crazy, honey-bear.”

Jim looks up.

“Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“Honey-bear. It’s weird.”

“Inside joke we have,” Tony says, chest tightening. “We thought those couples that have the lovey-dovey nicknames were ridiculous.”

overheard your heartbeat (calling me yours): @starklysteve

"Tony - "

"I wish I could promise to come home this time," he feels the armor crawl back down his arm, continuing unnoticed over Steve's red gloves, then up the blue uniform as Tony fights to keep Steve's gaze firmly fixed on him.

The last eyes Tony might get to see, and he wants to be lost in them.

In the end, his entire life boils down a few simple things: "JARVIS, take care of him for me."

----------

Or, Tony overhears a phonecall where Steve proposes, a battle happens, and a paper ring settles some misunderstandings.

i (really, really, really, really, really, really) like you.: @nethandrake

For as long as Steve can remember, he's been crushing on Tony Stark. The thing is, he's pretty sure Tony doesn't know Steve exists. And how could he? Steve's scrawny and little. He's a nobody compared to Tony who's Mr Popular and the son of a billionaire.

Or at least he thought so until Tony swings by the bakery Steve's mother happens to own to enlist Steve's help in finding the perfect Valentine's Day card.

The perfect Valentine's Day card for someone who isn't Steve.

One Song (My Heart Keeps Singing): @iam93percentstardust

When Thor is old enough to understand what a Heartsong is, he goes to his mother to ask her why he can’t understand the language his is in. He listens as she tells him about the first soulmates who couldn't understand their Heartsong until the day they meet, excited by the thought of a grand adventure, one that will take him across the cosmos in search of his One.

He’ll search all the Nine Realms if he has to.

December

Swiping Right: @s-horne

“Ouch. Definitely a hard pass for that one?”

Steve startled at the sudden comment from the row of chairs behind him and turned around. He’d been passing the time in the airport lounge by swiping through Tinder and had gotten lost in his own world. It was almost jarring to be pulled away from the screen of hot men and back into reality where the PA was screeching and there was noise everywhere.

Adjusting to the difference, Steve frowned. Wait, he knew that face. Oh, shit… he knew that face.

“No, no, it’s fine,” the man said before Steve could get out anything other than an embarrassed sort of yelp. Waving his hand through the air, the stranger smiled ruefully. “I get it. It’s the beard, isn’t it? True be told, it was a weird winter choice that year and I knew it would come back to hurt me.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. He knew it must have shown on his face and could feel himself flushing, panicked and embarrassed all at once. What were the odds of swiping left on someone literally sat behind him?

set your flight path home (to me): @starklysteve 

Tony puts down his welding torch. “I’m building you a plane.”

Stepping carefully over the gears and tools scattered about, Rhodey slowly makes his way to him.

“And when did you become an expert on how to build a plane?”

“Last night,” Tony grins.

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

Tony builds a plane, and Rhodey teaches Tony how to fly it. Or he would be teaching Tony, if Tony didn't distract him so much.

I Want A Man With A Slow Hand: @thefourofswords

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked on their way to a crime scene, because no time like the present, and Danny believed in ripping off band-aids.

“Why not?” Steve replied, eyes on the road. “You’re gonna even if I say no.”

“What do you like in bed?”

*

Danny undertakes a very important mission to get Steve laid. For his health. Ahem.

same time next year: @omg-just-peachy

“I forgot to ask. When’s your flight home?” Steve asks, draping his arm over Tony’s shoulder and settling in against him.

Tony ignores the knot that forms in his chest at the idea of it, leaving Steve again for his own impersonal apartment, his piles of books and projects and the nights without sleep.

“Day after tomorrow.”

Steve huffs a little sigh, then brings his lips to Tony’s neck. “Well, we’ll have to make the most of it, won’t we?”

Or, four (4) Christmases with two (2) idiots who can't admit they're in love.

rearrange my heart (to fit your smile): @starklysteve

"You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"

"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."

Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.

Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"

Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.

----------

Or, King Steven marries Prince Tony, Tony is pretty sure he shouldn't panic when he falls in love with his own husband, and Steve tries his very best not to cause diplomatic crises.

Keyword: try

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Could you do an Inception AU where James is Cobb, Lily is Ariadne, and Sirius is Mal? Specifically the scene where Cobb and Ariadne go into the world that Cobb and Mal created when they achieved inception. In there, Cobb has to fight Mal’s demand that he stays with her and doesn’t return to the real world. Thank you so much in advance!

((A/N: This fic probably only makes sense if you’ve watched Inception because I don’t explain a whole lot. Warnings for violence and suicide in keeping with the movie. Also an ambiguous ending...))

"I'm sorry, Remus," James said, jaw tight.

All he did was shake his head to dismiss it. He didn't say it was okay, because really, it wasn't.

James had brought a projection in, and not only had it prematurely ended the dream and possibly ruined their chances of getting the job done at all, but it had shot Remus. He'd brought a projection of Sirius into the dream without meaning to, and he'd shot Remus. He'd brought in a projection of Sirius, and he'd likely ruined the job. They had a backup dream in place in case the first time didn't work, but that didn't make this any more ideal to deal with.

He was fraying. Every possible edge that he had was unraveling. He was getting by thinking only about the next job. He couldn't afford to try and think about anything else.

Not even that his projections of Sirius kept ruining those jobs. 

This job turned out to be a complete failure. They didn't get the information they needed, and the target found out exactly what they were doing and who they were. Greyback had experience and training with dreamsharing, which meant that when he woke up, he would remember them.

*

"I love you," Sirius said, his smile soft and easy.

The sun was shining above them. Dreamsharing hadn't been made illegal yet. It was in the recreation phase during this memory. They spent days planning the next adventure they could take people along for.

"Aren't you going to say it back?" he asked, nudging James with an elbow.

"Of course I love you. You've always known it. I think you knew it before I had it figured out," James said with a laugh. He missed talking to Sirius like this.

"Don't be ridiculous, sweetheart. The minute you laid eyes on me, you decided that we were going to be together forever."

"I had that idea quite separated from what I thought love was."

Sirius laughed. "All right, I admit it, I might have known before you did. But it's not my fault you're so out of touch with your own feelings."

"Used to be," James corrected, raising a hand just so he could touch Sirius's face. Just to feel him, just to remind himself that they were together right now. He knew Sirius as well as he knew himself. Better, even. "Ever since I figured out that I loved you, I didn't need to discover it a second time."

"You're hopeless," Sirius said with a grin. He brought a hand up and curled his fingers around James's arm.

"I wish I could stay here forever," James breathed.

"Why don't you?"

*

"We're taking the job, right?" Remus asked.

He meant Greyback's offer. James could honestly say this was the first time a target turned around and wanted to hire them. Given how terribly things had gone when they were trying to extract information from Greyback, it was even more surprising. It hadn't exactly been a great example of their work. "I thought you said it was a bad idea."

"I said it was impossible," Remus corrected. "That's never stopped you from taking on jobs before."

Remus already knew that they were doing it, he just needed to hear James say it. "And it's not going to stop me now."

"We don't have an architect. I can call Peter for one level, but that still leaves us one short, since you can't do it."

"I've got an idea."

Remus paused, all too familiar with some of James's ideas. "Nothing that's going to get you arrested, right?"

James snorted. "Not this time." Sirius's father might blame him for Sirius's death, but Orion was in a prime position to find good dream architects, and for this job, James would need someone talented.

*

James went to a worse memory that night. Not because he wanted to see Sirius like that, but because he needed to remind himself of what had happened. Sometimes he got too accustomed to the way Sirius would appear as a projection, when he wasn't supposed to be there. Angry and violent, and so little like himself that James didn't know what to do. Every time he saw him like that, he was momentarily stunned. Despite all the times he'd seen him like that, it still surprised him when he showed up that way in someone else's dream.

He opened the door and saw a very familiar, wrecked hotel room. Their vacation. Their first anniversary that they'd had after waking up from limbo. It was supposed to be a celebration of them finally being back in the real world.

"Sirius?" he called, despite knowing where he'd find him.

"I'm over here, love," Sirius answered, like he always did, like he'd done when it happened. When it had actually happened, James had been worried that someone had broken into their room and hurt him. It's how Sirius had wanted for it to look. He'd had to call his name several times before he got a response, and he'd been panicked long before he caught sight of Sirius and figured out what he had planned.

James stepped carefully past the chair that was out of place, over the broken shards of a glass vase. He walked over to the window, swallowing thickly. The curtain moved lazily in the wind from the open air, and he held it out of the way so he could look across the street, where Sirius was sitting on a ledge. When it had happened in real life, James had immediately climbed out and held a hand out to him and asked him to come inside. This time, all he said was, "Why?"

"We're still in a dream, James. I know you don't believe me, but that's why I have to do this."

"You don't have to," James said, the words slipping out as helplessly as they had the first time he'd said them. "I made you think that the real world was fake. It was me, I did this to you, please don't. Just go back inside and I'll help you." When he visited this dream, this memory, he hoped that he could convince Sirius to listen to him. That maybe this time, it would work and they could work on getting better instead of steadily getting worse with every passing day.

"You didn't do anything to me, love," Sirius said, eyes wide and perfectly innocent. He had no idea.

Every time that James tried to tell him that he'd planted that idea, he hadn't believed it. Maybe it was how firmly the idea had taken hold, or maybe it was simply that Sirius couldn't imagine James doing something so horrible to him. He hadn't meant for it to be horrible. It was supposed to help him. After the initial novelty of discovering limbo, Sirius had been morose. Unhappy. He hadn't been able to deal with it. All James had wanted was to make him happy again. He'd wanted for Sirius to smile and mean it without trying to hide the sadness in his eyes. "I just wanted to help you," James whispered.

"We can be together again. Like this."

Like this.

Like this...

The words echoed in his head as he woke back up.

He never should've tested the chemist's sleep drug with that memory. He was awake now, but all he could see were Sirius's eyes and hear his voice like it was just over his shoulder. Every corner he turned was overlaid with the image of Sirius pushing himself off from the ledge, a faint smile on his face because he was so completely certain that he was right about reality being a dream.

He found the closest loo and splashed water on his face, but it did nothing to make him feel more awake. He fumbled in his pocket for Sirius's coin, but he was shaking so bad that he dropped it. All the same, it landed just right and spun, kept spinning, then- fell. James breathed out shakily. Real. This was real. He was fine; he was awake. He picked the coin back up and tightened his fist around it, feeling the edges bite into his skin, all of them just where they were supposed to be.

He missed his wedding ring.

*

At the end of the day, gathering a team wasn't very hard. Lily, their architect, was the only one that proved a challenge, and even she had been decently easy to recruit. Everyone else already had experience with dream sharing, but Lily had never thought about it before James talked to her. She didn't hesitate, and he liked that about her. There was no space for second thoughts on this job. The sooner she got comfortable with this, the better off she'd be-- the better off they would all be.

"Let's practice," James said.

"Practice? I thought you said that you don't dreamshare."

He had told her that, but he'd meant in the recreational sense. This was going to be instructive, and if it went badly, he was going to pass the duty onto Remus. "Not in my landscape." His landscape, the one he'd tailored for himself, to pull at both his happiest and his worst memories, wasn't something he invited other people to. He had more control over it, not calling in projections by accident, but that was because Sirius inhabited every floor of it anyways. There was no point in wishing for him to be there when he was already there. "This is different, I need to show you the ropes."

James showed her the machine, how to work it, and in they went. She probably wouldn't need to set it up herself, but there was no reason not to tell her at least once. He brought Lily to a real French street, which was always dangerous. The more of real life that he drew into his dreams, the more lost he'd get. Times like these, he'd worry the coin in his hands until it felt like his skin was rubbed raw. But he needed something familiar for Lily to work with so that she could focus on experimenting with it instead of exploring the specific world he made.

"So... what can I do?" Lily asked. She knew he was leading somewhere with this. "And who are all these people?"

"They're parts of my consciousness. Whoever is the architect will populate the world. They’re not anyone specific, just people I've seen on the street. While awake, I don't remember them. Even now, looking at them, I wouldn't recognize them. They're manifestations."

"Are those like projections?" Lily asked.

"How do you know about projections?"

"Remus mentioned them when I asked why you couldn't be one of the architects for the job, but he wouldn't tell me what they are."

James hated to tell people about it, because it meant thinking about it. He didn't want to think about it unless he was dreaming, and even then... even then, it wasn't every time that he dreamed. He wouldn't survive that. He was barely surviving it anyways. He flexed his left hand, able to feel the comforting weight of his wedding ring. "Manifestations are generally harmless. They're the background noise of your brain. Projections are things that dreamers can bring into the dream. It's why you're going to design that maze and not share it with any more of us than is absolutely necessary. If one of us brings in a projection that knows the map, it could ruin the whole mission." He jerked his chin towards the walkway. "C'mon. You're supposed to show me what you've got. It's no big deal since it's just me, but be careful of changing too much once you're already in the dream. It makes the manifestations notice you more, and if you're trying to go under the radar, the target would be able to find you."

"Is there any limit to it?" Lily asked, eyeing the pillars speculatively. "To what I can do?"

"I haven't found a limit yet," he said with a ghost of a smile.

*

Lily came awake with a shock. It had hurt to be stabbed. It had only lasted for a second, but for some reason, she hadn't expected it to hurt at all. James had told her that if someone died in a dream, it meant that they woke up. That was all the thought she'd given it. She hadn't thought about if it would matter how she died because it wasn't real, and she'd wake up instead of being dead so it was no big deal.

This had felt like a big deal. Nothing like getting stabbed in real life, of course, but still. She looked over at James, who had a pinched expression as he ripped out the tube from his arm.

"Sorry," he grit out.

"Was that a projection?"

For a minute, she thought he wouldn't answer, but then he said, "Yes."

"Why did he stab me?"

"Remus will finish teaching you what you need to know," was all he said, and he was up and gone before she'd even thought to disconnect herself.

Under usual circumstances, she'd give it time and then ask James about it again. After all, if there was a part of him that wanted her dead-- or at least gone, and out of his dreams-- then that was something the two of them should talk about and deal with. But they weren't exactly friends, and even though he was nice enough that she forgot, they only knew each other because they were planning on committing a crime together. Her usual approach wouldn't work here simply because they didn't have the time for it. If James didn't want to talk to her, then he wasn't going to talk to her, and he was the boss so she was supposed to listen to him.

Instead, she went to Remus for answers. After all, she'd been told 'Remus will finish teaching you what you need to know', and she considered that projection of James's stabbing her to be something she needed to know.

"Can I ask you something?"

"That's why I'm here," Remus replied, not looking up from his notes.

Notes about what, she had no idea. A quick glance had shown her that they were in code. She hadn't known that people did that in real life, but she supposed that with their line of work, it made sense. "It's a rather personal question."

"Mhm," he said, unconcerned.

"About James."

He paused. Then he looked up at her. "I'm listening."

"When he was showing me how to be in a dream, a projection showed up and stabbed me."

Remus didn't look the least bit surprised.

"That man... who was he?"

"His name's Sirius. James didn't mean to bring him in like that. He never does."

"It happens a lot, then?"

"It's why he can't be an architect for any of our jobs. If he knows the layout, then Sirius does too. The more unfamiliar he is with it, the better our odds are of getting out unscathed."

"Who is he? Sirius, I mean."

"James's husband."

Lily raised an eyebrow at that. "Don't you mean ex-husband?"

"No."

"What, they're still together?" she asked disbelievingly.

"No, he's dead."

She blinked. She hadn't really been expecting that as an answer, though maybe she should have. "Oh. Is that- I mean, is that why he doesn't like talking about it?"

"I'm sure that's part of the reason," Remus said. He leaned back in his chair, looking up at her like he was contemplating something.

"How did they ever get married when Sirius is so awful? I mean, I only saw him the once, but he wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine. He seemed so sodding angry. It's hard to imagine someone falling in love with a man like that."

"He wasn't like that. Not when he was alive. That's the projection version of him. James can't help when he appears, much less how he acts once he shows up."

Lily hummed. That made more sense than what she'd been thinking, but it was still hard to wrap her mind around. "Did you know him?"

"Yeah," Remus said, a faint smile crossing his face. "Not well. In passing, for the most part. James didn't have any reason to work with other people back then."

"What was he like? Sirius."

"Passionate. Thoughtful. I'd never seen two people so in love." For a moment, it looked like Remus was going to elaborate. Then the moment passed, and he turned back to his work. "Do me a favor, and don't ask James about it. He's doing as well as he can, and asking him about Sirius only makes it worse. You can't avoid his projections, so just focus on your job."

That sounded like a wretched way of living, but she wasn't James and they'd hired her for a job. She could focus on the job while caring about him. Even if she couldn't actually do anything to help him, like she wished she could. 

It was like... it was like he was scarred. One of those scars that looked like it had been carved into a person's soul, so deep that it had dulled the nerves in the surrounding area. Lily couldn't hope to help without knowing more about it, and there simply wasn't time for that sort of in depth conversation with James when he didn't want to tell her even the most basic details about the situation. She shouldn't be worrying about it, anyways. Not only was Remus correct in that this job would require her full attention, but she needed to stop trying to fix every single person she met. It was a hard lesson, and one that she was still having trouble with.

"Okay," she said, because she needed to form some sort of reply to Remus. "Thanks for telling me."

*

He didn't dream anymore. Not organically and not when he was sleeping on his own for the night. Too much time dream sharing did that. If he wanted a nice dream, he either had to imagine it while he was awake but still tired, or he had to go into a lucid dream and craft it for himself. But of course, if he did the first, it was just a fantasy, and if he did the second, it was the same. Building and crafting what he wanted instead of it coming to him naturally. Not that his natural dreams had made sense all the time. That's how normal dreams were supposed to be: fun and nonsensical.

He missed it.

He hadn't missed it until Sirius died. When Sirius was still alive, it was an adventure. They'd learned about dreamsharing, and they'd mastered it. They'd spent countless hours testing what they could, and in all his time, he'd never met anyone that understood it the way Sirius had. He'd been in his element in dream landscapes. The only person that came close to understanding what they could do there was Lily, but he didn't know if she was interested in delving into it the way Sirius had. Sirius had been- gods, he'd been so alive when they were sharing dreams.

They'd come up with the idea for putting a dream in another dream together. And then, later, a dream in a dream in a dream. Three levels, which their chemist had tried to tell James was impossible. As if he'd suggest it for a job this big if he wasn't sure. Two levels was old hat to him, even if he knew it wasn't to everyone else. Three levels was delicate, trying to stay under securely enough to not wake at every jolt, but it was doable. He was convinced that a fourth level was impossible. Or, if there was a fourth level, then it was just limbo and there was nothing else to find there.

James fell in love with Sirius every single day, and they'd had more days together than most. By far. Days on top of endless days together, and all James could do was regret that they hadn't had more.

Limbo had been free reign with no end in sight. It had been, in a word, paradise. Just him and Sirius, the world around them theirs to design as they wished. It was no simple dreamscape that they'd come up with. It was an entire world.

At least, that was how James had always thought of it. A world. In more realistic terms, it was a city. A very large city, but a city all the same. They'd built it to accomodate a population of two. The early days of planning hadn't been like that, at first. They'd had all the usual markers of city planning before realizing that they didn't have to worry about ease of travel or congestion. They made towering buildings, sculptures to match their art preferences, and roads to match the outline they'd done. They didn't have a car, so roads had been made as wide as they wanted for them to be. At times, there were roads large enough for four cars, and at other parts of their city, there was a wooden walkway wide enough for two people walking side by side. They hadn't been bound by realism, by maintenance, or by consideration for a population.

There was a beach. 

When James and Sirius had arrived for the first time, the sand had been dark brown, the water grey and unforgiving. They'd had the power to change that, so they had. They'd made crystal blue water and white sand, and nice, even waves that beat against it peacefully. They'd put dozens of buildings along the coast, knowing that there was no limit to what they could, no damage that they had to plan for. They'd put skyscrapers on an idyllic beach just because they could, and the entire time they'd been in limbo, there had been no wear and tear to those buildings.

Those buildings were the first things that James saw when he woke up to salt water beating against his face. He pushed himself up, momentarily thrown by the familiarity. He couldn't visit a memory from something that happened in limbo like he'd been able to do with real life. The next wave moved his body, and then he realised that Lily was coughing nearby. He moved to help her, and she stumbled to her feet as they got out of the water and onto the sand. Brown sand, like had been there before Sirius thought to try and change it.

"What is this place?" she asked. She bat impatiently at her hair, trying to get it out of her face. It had been her idea to come here, but he knew that with each dream level entered, it was harder to keep your memories from the one prior.

"Limbo." He glanced at the buildings. Once pristine, they were now crumbling, sloughing off into the grey, stormy water in large chunks. Every building that they had lovingly crafted was little more than trash, now.

"I thought limbo was a blank slate."

"Unless you go with someone that's been there before," he told her.

She blinked at him in surprise. "You built all this?"

"Me and Sirius did. Together."

She said something, but it was under her breath, and he couldn't make it out.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head.

Considering that every time she'd seen Sirius, he'd done something horrible, it made sense that she'd be thinking some not-nice things about him. He knew that. It was just so hard for him to imagine anyone not loving Sirius if they knew him. But then, that only applied to the real Sirius. The projection of Sirius that showed up uninvited was hateful and violent and nothing at all like how he'd been in life. The projection always tried to kill the people that weren't James. He tried to ruin whatever the goal of the dream was. James didn't know why that was his MO, but it's what he did every time, without fail.

"Let's go," he said, heading away from the beach. Even if the buildings weren't crumbling, this wasn't where Sirius would be. They weren't the buildings that were important to them, not the way some of the others were.

"Are you sure this is the right way?"

"Yes. Sirius has always been predictable." To me.

"And you're sure that he'll have the target?" Lily pressed.

"Yes. He knows that I need him, and he wants me here, to talk to him, so he's going to have him."

They walked in silence for several minutes. Their pace was quick, but it was difficult to make much progress; Sirius and James hadn't exactly built this city with the intent that it was quick to get from one end to the other. "You built all of this yourselves?" Lily asked, sounding awed. "Just from your imaginations?"

"Most of it. After a while we switched to memories," he said, turning a corner. "The house where I grew up. Our first flat together."

"You could remember all that?"

James shrugged. "We had plenty of time. Every little detail painstakingly rendered even though it didn’t matter. It's this one," he said, grabbing Lily's arm and pulling her with him when it looked like she was going to keep walking.

"What makes this skyscraper different from any of the other ones we passed?" she asked, confused.

"This is the one that Sirius and I decided was home. The others are just buildings, but this is the one we lived in." There'd been no restrictions on them, and they had taken full advantage of it. It was still in pristine condition, and James walked to the elevator and pressed the button for the highest floor. "Did I ever explain inception to you?"

"It's an idea that you plant in someone's head that they think they came up with," Lily answered. It's what Remus had told her.

"It's a little bit more than that. It's like a virus. It's resilient and spreads rapidly throughout someone's mind. It takes root and can't be eradicated."

"All of that from a simple idea?" Lily asked as the doors opened with a ding. She didn't get it. Of course she didn't. She couldn't imagine that James had done it to Sirius. Sirius hadn't been able to believe that James had done it to him. He'd trusted him implicitly, completely, and James had ruined him.

"All from a simple idea," Sirius confirmed. His back was to them. His silhouette was against the window, making him look dangerous even though the way he was sitting could only be described as lounging. "An idea such as 'your world is not real'." He tilted his head to the side to look at James. "Isn't that right, love? A simple idea that you gave to me." The way he said it was dismissive. This was the sort of thing that made James wonder if Sirius really was a projection, or if there was a version of him that had died in the real world, and a version of him that existed in dreams. Because if he was only a projection from James, then he'd know for a fact that James had done it, wouldn't he? He wouldn't still be doubting it.

"Wait here," James told Lily, then he walked forward. He went to Sirius and knelt on the floor next to him. When he put a hand on his knee, Sirius turned. There was a kitchen knife in his hand, and while it gleamed wickedly in the sparse lighting, all he did was press the flat of it against James's cheek. "Are you really going to use that?" he asked, unworried. Sirius had never hurt him, not even when he was vengeful and hurting other people in the dreams. He'd pointed a weapon at him a few times, but he'd never come close to acting on it.

Sirius's eyes darted over to Lily, and James moved his hand so it was on the arm holding the knife. "Why are you so sure that what you think is real is what's real?" he whispered.

"I know."

"What you think you know could easily be a dream. The world is populated by white noise in the form of people walking around, and you've convinced yourself that they're real."

"They're real."

"You don't have any doubts?" Sirius said, using his free hand to card his fingers through James's hair. "No moments when it seems that you've caught the edge of the world and had to turn around?"

"I know what's real," James said softly.

Sirius shook his head. The knife dropped to rest on James's shoulder, and Sirius turned the sharp edge towards James's neck. He didn't apply any pressure, so it didn't cut. An edge of danger, yes, but with no threat for more behind it. "You know what's real. I know what's real. We don't need to fight over what's real, anymore. You're here. Do what I did, and choose the reality you want."

"Sirius..."

"Choose the reality that has me in it. I chose the reality that would keep us together, forever, like we promised." His eyes darted over to Lily, and slowly, he moved the knife away from him and set it on the table. He leaned back to where he'd been and put both his hands on James's face, his fingers curled around the back of his neck, and his thumbs resting on his cheeks. "I don't care about anybody else. I only care about us. We can be together again; that's all I ever wanted. It's why I've done all of this to try and get you here. You think I liked it? Hurting people that made you feel the slightest bit better about living without me? I hated it. I hated every moment of it, but it was necessary. I can't live without you anymore than you can live without me."

"James," Lily said, sounding nervous.

"Where's the target?" James asked Sirius.

"On the balcony."

"Go find him," James said to Lily, but he didn't take his eyes off Sirius. His husband, his best friend, his everything.

Lily moved, and James was peripherally aware of it, but he couldn't stop looking at Sirius, and Sirius likewise couldn't stop looking at him. "It's him," she said. She glanced out at the sky, which was now crackling with bright bursts of lightning. It had to be the defibrillator, trying to revive the target in the previous dream world. "And it's time."

"Push him off the edge for the kick, then jump off yourself. You can't miss it."

"I can't leave you here," Lily said, a hint of desperation entering her voice.

"Don't worry about me."

"You can't really be planning on staying here, can you? It's not real. He's not real."

Any other time, Sirius would get furious and attack her. This time, he barely reacted at all. He only had eyes for James. "Stay," he begged.

"Lily, go. I'm not asking."

She pushed the target over the edge, but hesitated before going over herself. "If you stay down here and make me explain to Remus what happened, I'm going to kill you." Then she jumped.

"You're a projection," James whispered. He didn't want for it to be true, but it was.

"Let’s say that I am. I'm your projection. You made me. You know me better than anyone. If I'm a projection from your imagination, then I'm still as real as I was when I was alive. I have all the same memories. I'm the same. If you think I'm a projection, that's up to you, but that still makes me me." Sirius leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, his eyes fluttering shut. "You know me. It doesn't matter if I'm real or if you're real because we are real. We can still have this. You know we can. You want it as much as I do. Stay. Be with me the way you want to."

James took a shuddering breath in and let it out slowly.

Sirius leaned back enough to grab James's left hand and press a kiss over his knuckles, his lips covering James's wedding ring. His ring that no longer existed in the real world but he always had in dreams. "We can be together like this."

Like this.

Like this...

[natashxromanovf]

Injuries

Pairing: Sirius Black× fem! reader

Warnings: swearing, vomiting, alcohol, injuries

Word count: 2k

A/N: I’m kinda proud of this one. I can definitely see the progress. I hope you like it! I started writing it 2 weeks ago, but lost motivation and now I’m here finishing it today. Also @voidmalfoy wanted to be tagged in here. Thank you for deciding to read it.

You and Sirius were best friends since the second year. You have never imagined him as something else. Something more.

Your dorm was very bright from the sun shining through the windows. You could feel the warmth on your body. It was a perfect afternoon.

“Hey Y/N.”

“Hello, Marlene”

“I need to ask you something” 

“Sure”

“What’s going on with you and Sirius?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, are you two a couple or something?”

“What?” the question caught you off guard. “No. You know we are not.”

“Babe, I have seen the way you’re looking at him. You look like your heart is about to melt into your hands.”

“What, no-” and then it hit. The realization that you are, indeed, in love with your best friend. it didn’t happen all of a sudden, no. The feelings were built through the years. It started with a little crush, you developed in fifth year. You pushed it at the back of your mind, convincing yourself it’ll go away. But it didn’t. It just kept growing and growing, until it was too big for you to deny it anymore.   

“Fuck” you sighed “No, no, no this is not happening! It can’t be happening. I can’t. He doesn’t feel the same I’m just going to end up heartbroken.” a million thoughts were running through your head. But the loudest and strongest one was He doesn’t feel the same. How am I gonna tell him?

You decided not to worry about it. Not tonight. Tonight is time for fun. The marauders planed one hell of a good party (Sirius was in charge of the drinks, Remus planned the whole thing and James and Peter made sure that teachers won’t hear a thing) and there’s no way you are gonna ruin yourself the night. Tonight is time for drinking and celebrating Gryffindor's win in the match against Ravenclaw. 

When you got there the common room was already pretty full. Your eyes started to search for Sirius before you even realized it. And there he was, flirting with a girl as always. The new feeling hit you. You immediately knew what it was. It felt like a stab in the chest, like someone was trying to tear your heart out of your chest. No, don’t you thought. What did I promise myself? You got lost in your thoughts before someone tapped your shoulder.

“Hey Y/N/N.”

“Oh, hey Lily.”

She looked at Sirius and then at your face. “Marls told me” she sighed.

“Oh news travels fast around here.” you rolled your eyes.

“Let’s go somewhere else. Drinks!”

Soon all of your friends joined. You danced, drank, you had fun. Maybe a little too much. You tripped and fell, but somebody caught you.

“Wow, you okay, love?”

Sirius.

“Yeah, I’m all good, Siri” you giggled. Trying to steady yourself, you once again lost balance but there were hands quickly to wrap around your waist.

“Okay, I think you had enough.”

What? No. I didn’t know you were such a party killer.”

“Believe me, I’m not, but I think you should go up.”

“Whatever.” He escorted you.

“Thank-” you couldn’t even finish the sentence. As soon as you came up you ran straight to the bathroom. You don’t tolerate alcohol very well. You knew that. You started throwing up and someone's hands grabbed your hair.

“See. Told you.” joked Sirius but there was a hint of worry in his voice.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” you smiled. “But I think I’m gonna stay here for a little bit. I don’t think it’s over yet.”

“Then I’m staying too.” he sounded pretty sober, looking at a fact he drank nearly as much as you.

“No, you don’t have to. Go, have some more fun.”

“It’s okay.”

“You sure?” you raised your eyebrows.

“Yes.” 

Soon your urge to puke went away so you fell asleep. 

The morning came quicker than you wanted. Your head was pounding and you felt sick. What you didn’t expect was to wake up to the black-haired boy sleeping on the floor beside your bed. You couldn’t help yourself but stare at the beautiful being sleeping in front of you.  

No worries, no school, no quiddi- “Quidditch!!” you shouted “Sirius wake up! Wake up, idiot!” you screamed, throwing a pillow in his face.

“What?!”

“Quidditch, Sirius, quidditch” 

He looked at you confused.

“Practice, James saying it was important, don’t you remember??”

“Oh, shit!”

“YES! We have exactly five minutes to get ready. Oh God, my head! Do you have any painkillers?

“Yes, in my dorm. We get ready and then meet me down in five?"

“Yes, now go!”

As fast as you could, you got ready, took your broom, and ran down the stairs. Sirius was already waiting for you with a water bottle and three pain killers. “Thanks.”

“No worries, now run.”

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

“Where have you been!?! You’re late!”

“I know, I’m so sorry James”

“Do you even have a good excuse? I told you this training is very important!”

“Does hangover count?” half-joked, half asked Sirius.

“What? Oh, the party. No, it doesn’t count! And where even were you, you didn’t come back to our dorm last night.”

The boy looked at you and then started speaking “In girls’ dorm.”

“What were you- You know what I don’t wanna know, just get ready quick!”

You quickly swallowed the medications, saddled the broom, and pushed yourself from the ground. 

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

The practice was quite enjoyable. The fresh air helped with your headache. Or was it just the medications, you didn’t know. The ending of the practice was approaching when James called you all down for a quick word. 

“So, many of you are probably wondering why the hell was this training so important. No, it wasn’t just because I wanted to have it, it was also because professor Mcgonagall informed me, that Hufflepuff’s seeker broke her arm, so they can’t play in their game against Slytherin next week. Which means that we have to play instead of them. 

You enjoyed playing quidditch. Tho matches against Slytherin were never fun. It always ended with at least half of the team in the hospital wing. By any chance, that half of the team often included you. The raven-haired boy, who stood next to you, bumped your shoulder.

“Excited for the game, y/l/n”

“I don’t know, these matches always end the same.”

“With injuries and annoyed Madam Pomfrey.” you two said in sync. The laughter filled your lungs, echoing through the changing room.

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

The week went through pretty boring yet normal. Lessons, tons of homework, intense practices, a couple of pranks, and fun evenings with friends. Saturday came again quickly and nerves settled into your body. You were tense, anyone could see that from a mile away. You tried to eat, but your stomach refused. 

“Come on darling, relax.” said Sirius massaging your shoulders and neck.

“I don’t even know why I’m so stressed, it’s just a normal game. But I have a feeling something will go terribly wrong!”

“Hey, hey, look at me” whisper- yelled Sirius. “Everything is going to be okay. You’ll do good, I’ll do good, James’ll do good.” staring at those beautiful grey eyes of his, you calmed. They took your worries away and your lips formed a gentle smile. His expression soon mirrored yours, looking away from you.

“Thank you so much Pads, I have no idea how you do it but it works. You’re the only person that can calm me.” He would probably throw some flirty remark back if James hadn’t cut him off.

“Attention, attention my dear teammates. The match will take place at 9.30 so we have exactly 30 minutes-”

“29″

“29 minutes, thank you, Williams, to get ready. So lift your ass up, take your brooms and lets go to changing rooms!” James yelled, clearly determined to win today's game. He can be sweet and nice but when it comes to quidditch there is no joke.

When you changed into quidditch ropes the team went through all your tactics again. Soon enough you heard Madam Hooch's whistle that announced the game is gonna begin. Two captains shook hands, roughly than they should.

The game was pretty tight Gryffindor only leading by 10 points. If James doesn't catch the snitch soon you're all screwed.

"Williams throwing a quaffle to y/n, y/n passing it to Andrews and Andrews right back to y/n... And y/n scores!! The result is now 180 for Gryffindor and 160 for Slytherin." Right as the commentator announced your goal you saw James diving after something very small, something golden... a snitch! "And Potter caught the snitch, Gryffindor wins!!" Loud cheering was heard from all directions. Cheering people in scarlet and gold, some Gryffindors some even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.

Right as you were about to land someone knocked you from your broom. As you started falling you saw a familiar face behind you. You didn't give it much a thought tho as blackness took over all your senses.

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

The moment you woke up you felt a pair of familiar hands around your own. Your head was pounding, your vision was blurry and you had to blink a couple more times than normal. You tried to sit up but your body strongly disagreed.

"Siri? What happened?" the black-haired boy quickly looked up and a smile formed on his face.

"You're awake, thank god." he said with such a caring voice and your stomach immediately started doing flips. "You were diving when somebody knocked you off your broom. Nobody saw who it was tho." as the memories started forming themselves in your mind you remembered who you saw. It was Goyle.

"I know who it was. But you have to promise me you won't do anything stupid!" Sirius' face darkened. Hesitatingly he said "I promise. Now please tell me."

"It was Goyle." Goyle has always been short-tempered. He probably couldn't take the Slytherin's loss so he took his anger out on you.

"I'm gonna kill him! That son of a bitch. I knew it, I knew it!!"

"Sirius Black! You promised you won't do anything stupid. Now please calm down. Nothing bad happened."

"Nothing bad happened?! Y/n you're in a hospital wing!"

"Yea, but I'm okay." That was obviously a lie. Every part of your body hurts. With every move, every word, something hurts. As you could saw, Sirius didn't buy it but decided to play along anyway.

"Oh, you're okay? Fine, then please sit up for me."

Again you tried but couldn't do it. "I can't."

"Oh, I know you can't." a smirk appeared on his face but was soon replaced with a worried expression. "You fell from 8 meters, you can't be okay."

"You know me too well, it's creepy really. You know more about me than I do myself." he laughed, leaving you no other choice than to join him.

"Please don't make me laugh, it hurts." you said through chuckles and pain.

Soon enough, you both calmed down and a comforting silence fell over you two. That was until Sirius interrupted "You got me worried there, you know."

"I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault what in the world are you sorry for, love?"

"Don't know. For destroying a happy feeling after our win?"

"You didn't. I'm just happy you'll be okay." he smiled. Overwhelmed with emotions you said something you didn't intend to. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"No Sirius, I'm in love with you." no stopping now, you thought. He was caught by surprise, hundreds of thoughts running through his mind. You miss judged the silence, looking away with glassy eyes. He broke out of his thoughts by the sight of you almost crying.

"I- I'm in love with you too."

"What?" you have to hear him say it again. Was this just your head playing with you? You waited so long for these words to come out of his mouth, you didn't know if they were real.

"I love you too." he said right before pressing his lips against yours. It didn't take you long to melt into the kiss. Your lips felt like they were made for each other.

Like you two were made for each other.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Oh My God, They Were Roommates

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: You’re tired of denying your relationship in every interview, but Tom insists on keeping it a secret. Lucky for you, he’s terrible at keeping secrets

Masterlist

Secretly dating Tom Holland was not an easy job. You were his on and offscreen girlfriend, no people naturally wanted you to be together in real life. Towards the beginning of your relationship, you both agreed to keep it private. You’d managed to deny relationship rumors for over a year until you discovered something:

You and Tom were really really bad at keeping it a secret. 

Far too many times, you’d do or say something that confirmed your relationship. And far too many times, you’d have to go on twitter to say it was a joke and that you and Tom were just friends. You hated lying to your fans about the nature of your relationship, and Tom wasn’t fond of it either. You didn’t want to lie anymore. You were ready for the world to know. And yet, the worst secret keeper in Hollywood was determined to keep it a secret.

It all started with social media.

You had stirred up rumors that you and Tom were dating when you dyed your hair red after being cast as MJ and posted a photo of it, captioning it “Face it tiger…”. Tom couldn’t help himself from commenting “I hit the jackpot.” The Spider-Man and MJ reference did not go over people’s heads and the rumors were born.

“This would be such a cute way to confirm our relation.” You smiled as your scrolled through the comments of your picture. “We should tell them.”

“Not yet, darling. I’m not ready for the world to know.” Tom said, much to your disappointment.

“Okay. No, I get it.” You gave him a small smile and kissed his cheek, dropping the subject.

A few weeks later, you sent out a tweet that read, “Tom just hit a pothole so hard that he’s American now.”, leaving fans to wonder why you were together on your day off.

“They caught us. They know we’re on a date.” You said from the passenger seat.

“Friends can hang out on days off. That doesn’t mean we’re a couple.” Tom replied and you looked over at him.

“But we are a couple.” You reminded him, a little hurt at his phrasing.

“They don’t need to know that. I wouldn’t even respond to it. Don’t feed the flame.” Tom shrugged and shot you a smile. You faked a smile back and nodded.

“You’re right. I won’t respond.” You put your phone down and looked out the window, hoping he couldn’t sense your disappointment.

Then, it escalated to interviews.

“Does your friendship ever interfere with shooting the romantic scenes? Like, were you ever shooting a cuddling scene or a date scene where you were grossed out because you had to do romantic things with your friend?” The interviewer asked. You couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.

“Was it weird to do romantic things with my friend Tom? That’s a great question.” You said and Tom laughed from beside you, also seeing the irony. “It was pretty weird since we are such good friends.”

“The best of friends.” Tom egged on.

“Definitely.” You gave an over exaggerated nod. “He’s like family to me.”

“Like brother and sister.” Tom added and you burst out laughing. Tom laughed at your reaction and suddenly, you’re both hunched over laughing while the interviewer watched with a confused smile.

“I don’t think it was weird.” You said after you calmed down. “I have such a respect for Tom and I really admire his work as an actor, and I assume he feels the same for me-“

“More or less.” Tom joked.

“-so it wasn’t too bad.” You finished and elbowed him slightly.

“Was the first time you kissed awkward?” The interviewer asked.

“In the movie or-“ Tom began, forgetting the rest of the world didn’t know that you’d have a first kiss as Peter and MJ and a first kiss as a couple.

“No, it wasn’t awkward.” You quickly cut him off before he blew your cover. “At the end of the day, we’re both professionals and it’s just kissing. We do it all the time now.”

“Sometimes off screen. And that’s not a joke.” Tom brought up. “Especially during filming, I would sometimes forget we weren’t actually together and I’d walk into a room and kiss her.”

You smiled at the memory, remembering all the stolen kisses before you’d made it official.

“How did everyone else react?” The interviewer asked.

“They acted like it was completely normal.” You answered.

“Because for us, it was.” Tom shrugged.

“I will say, it did get complicated kissing you when were were shooting our reunion scene in Endgame because I had to be careful of your balls.” You said.

“What?” Tom nearly gasped. You realized how it sounded and slapped a hand over your mouth.

“Motion sensor balls. The little white motion sensor balls.” You quickly explained. “Oh my God. I meant the balls on the motion caption suit.”

“I was about to say.” Tom laughed at your accident innuendo.

“Ask the next question, please.” You pleaded to get out of the awkward moment.

“So did you guys meet through this movie?” The interviewer saved you.

“Yes. We met while filming Infinity War when no one had any idea our characters were going to date.” You answered confidently to redeem yourself.

“We were always paired together for junkets and she gradually became my best friend. Sorry Haz.” Tom apologized to the camera.

“It’s great that you guys were able to click. Your chemistry in the movie is really outstanding.” The interviewer complimented. “I’m sure that’s due to the friendship you’ve built off screen.”

“Yeah, I mean it always helps to be friends with your scene partner. And when we would have to spend hours in a prop bed together, cuddling and kissing while they got the perfect shot, it made us even closer. And as for the chemistry, I guess it kinda happened naturally.” You smiled shyly.

“Here’s a clip from the upcoming film.” The interview said to the camera. A scene from Far From Home played where Peter and MJ awkwardly yet adorably flirting with each other on the London Bridge. You couldn’t help but lovingly watch Tom as the clip played, overly proud of his job in the film.

“We do have great chemistry.” Tom nodded after the clip played. “We should date.” He added and you laughed.

“The fans would love that. I’m sure you’ve seen the campaigns online for you two to get together.” The interviewer remarked.

“We’ve seen it. Or at least, I have. Have you?” You asked Tom.

“I started the campaign.” Tom deadpanned.

“Oh, okay.” You nodded causally. You both kept a straight face for as long as you could before you burst into laughter. You curled into Toms side and laughed until your sides hurt.

“So is this really just a friendship? Nothing more?” The interviewer asked skeptically.

“No. We’re just really good friends.” Tom said firmly. You smile slowly faded and you gave a curt nod. For the rest of the interview, you were in autopilot. Every time you thought Tom was ready to tell the world, he hit you with the “just friends” line. It wasn’t him calling you “friend” that hurt you. It was him saying “just”. Every time he said it, he chipped into your heart. It hurt you to hear him play your relationship off as “just” anything.

At the next interview with Jimmy Kimmel, you had a bigger slip than usual.

“I love the pants Tom.” Jimmy complimented a few minutes into the interview. “But I do miss you in the Spiderman suit.”

“Oh, thank you.” Tom smiled and smoothed out his grey patterned pants. “My girlfriend picked them out.” He said causally. His eyes widened and you did your best to keep a neutral expression.

“Girlfriend?” Jimmy asked with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, Uh, yeah. I’ve been seeing someone for a while now. I wasn’t supposed to let that slip so no one tell her.” Tom grimaced before looking into the camera. “Sorry, baby. She is really good at fashion though. She picked out most of my outfits for the press tour.”

“Well I have to say, your girlfriend has great taste.” Jimmy said.

“Thank you.” You answered, then cleared your throat to cover up the slip up. Tom caught your mistake and stifled a laugh.

“What was that, Y/n?” Tom asked coyly, knowing full well what you had accidentally said.

“I said she’s gonna kill you.” You lied through a smile.

“You’ve met her?” Jimmy asked you and you thought quickly on your feet.

“Oh yes. I know her very well.” You nodded. It wasn’t a total lie. You knew yourself pretty well.

“So you guys are friends?” Jimmy continued.

“No. I cannot stand that girl.” You laughed and Tom rolled his eyes. If he wasn’t gonna admit that his girlfriend was you, you were gonna have some fun.

“Here we go.” Tom sighed and the audience laughed.

“Why not?” Jimmy inquired.

“Because all she does is talk about herself.” You said. Tom laughed the irony and you giggled yourself.

“Well what about you? Do you have a boyfriend?” Jimmy asked.

“I do have a boyfriend but he’s the worst.” You confirmed. Tom gave you a half cracked smile.

“What?” He asked, practically daring you to go on.

“Why do you say that?” Jimmy laughed.

“He can’t keep a secret to save his life.” You shrugged. “Except the one. He’s really good at keeping one.”

Tom knew exactly what you were doing and he couldn’t even blame you. He didn’t say anything, but patted your knee and left his hand there.

“So he’s like Tom then?” Jimmy said. “Tom, you’ve become infamous in Hollywood as being loose lipped.”

“He is not loose lipped, his lips are very nice.” You defended and Tom smiled shyly. “He just gets too excited and lets things slip.”

“Like you during that one scene.” Tom spoke up. You knew what he was talking about and your face reddened.

“Stop.” You warned.

“What did she let slip?” Jimmy wondered.

“Oh My God. This story is so embarrassing.” You whined as you covered your face in your hands. Tom laughed at your discomfort and took your hand.

“We were shooting the “steamy”, as one night call it, scene in the film and she was supposed to say “Peter”, you know my characters name, in like a breathy voice.” Tom explained.

“I’d like to preface that this was an accident.” You cut in.

“So we’re shooting the scene and right in my ear she goes “Tom…I mean Peter”. But the whole thing comes out in like a moan and I thought it was the funniest thing ever.” Tom told the story.

“It was so embarrassing! The whole crew heard.” You groaned while Tom and the audience laughed at your expense.

You and Tom walked into your shared hotel room after the interview and allowed yourselves to relax. While you were setting your purse down on the bed, Tom came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You leaned into his embrace and smiled.

“That went a lot better than I thought. If people think we’re dating other people, they’ll stop asking us if we’re together. This will totally throw them off.” Tom said and he kissed your temple. Your smile dropped as you turned around in his arms.

“Or, we could use this as an opportunity to tell them the truth about us. They know you have a girlfriend. Why not tell them that girlfriend is me?” You asked.

“Because my fans will come at you with a fiery vengeance. It’s better if they think you’re just my best friend. Trust me, darling, you don’t want them to know it’s you.” Tom tilted your chin up to look at him.

“And trust me, Tom, I do.” You said, and left his embrace.

The next day, you pretended like nothing happened for the sake of all the junkets you had to get through. You could tell Tom was sorry from the guilty looks he kept giving you, but you wouldn’t look back at him.

“What’s the best part of the press tour?” The interviewer asked.

“Getting to spend all day with my best friend.” You laud the word on thick as you wrapped your arms around Toms neck and covered his cheek in kisses. He got your point and let you do it as his way of apologizing. The interviewer laughed along, knowing the effect your actions would have on the fans.

“It’s great that you two are best friends. Is this press tour similar to the Homecoming one where you had to spend all day with Robert?” Tom was asked.

“That was a lot different. Robert has more of a godfather role in my life. I can go to him for advice, but I can’t play table tennis with him at three am in the hotel lobby like I can with Y/n.” Tom answered. You were warmed back up to him and gave him a gentle smile.

“And what’s your relationship with him like?” The interviewer asked you.

“He’s like my dad. He used to carry bandaids around just because I got hurt so much on set.” You replied.

“I remember that. He was always prepared. I went to Robert once when I was sick and he hooked me up to this crazy machine. I was super scared but it’s Robert Downey Jr., so I wasn’t gonna say no.” Tom chimed in.

“He makes Marvel lower your paycheck every time you say no to him.” You joked.

“Exactly. So I let him hook me up to it and it totally cured me. I was better in 15 minutes.” Tom continued.

“Aw. That’s so funny to think of Robert playing doctor on set. I guess your relationship with him is similar to Tony’s relationship with Peter?” The interview asked Tom.

“Definitely, definitely. Minus the fighting crime together and dying in his arms, obviously.” Tom replied.

“Mr. Junior, I don’t feel so good.” You cut in with a laugh. Tom and the interviewer stopped and looked at you.

“What?” Tom asked with a growing smile.

“I said Mr. Junior, I don’t feel so good. Like Mr. Stark I don’t feel so good.” You explained. You looked at Tom in confusion as he and the interviewer shared a look.

“What?” Tom repeated.

“Because you said your relationship was similar so I said-“ You began.

“No, I heard what you said.” Tom cut you off. “Who’s Mr. Junior?”

“Robert.” You replied, still confused why everyone was making a big deal.

“It’s Mr. Downey.” Tom said and began to laugh.

“Why would it be Mr. Downey? You wouldn’t be Mr. Stanley. It’s the last name. Mr. Junior.” You said again, feeling yourself growing frustrated.

“Yes, and his last name is Downey. My middle name is Stanley.” Tom explained.

You sat in silence for a moment, contemplating what Tom was saying.

“Did you think his last name was Junior?” Tom broke the silence.

“No?” You said as more of a question than a statement.

“Have you seriously thought Roberts last name was Junior this entire time?” The interviewer asked, also laughing at you.

“I thought Downey was his middle name!” You shrieked.

“What?!” Tom asked and burst into laughter. You felt your face redden as the crew laughed at you as well.

“I thought he was Robert Downey Junior!” You said each name separately. “I thought he just used his full name like Neil Patrick Harris.”

“No.” Tom said in exasperation. “His fathers also named Robert so he’s Robert Downey Jr.”

“But he goes by RDJ! That implies that the “J” is a part of his initials.” You exclaimed.

“I cannot believe we’re having this conversation right now.” Tom said as he wiped a happy tear from his eye.

“How did you think I feel?” You asked.

“I can’t handle this. You’re so ridiculous.” Tom choked out through his laughter. “I love you.” You restrained yourself from telling him you loved him back, knowing you couldn’t possibly make it sound platonic.

“Aw.” The interviewer gushed. “You two are such cute friends.”

“Yeah.” You gave a tight lipped smile. “Friends.”

As the press tour neared its end, your ability to keep the secret worsened.

Tom gave you a quick kiss on the lips before the cameras started rolling. The interviewer almost caught it, but you pulled away quickly before he could.

“What is that?” Tom asked as you bite into something orange sometime during the junket.

“A carrot.” You shrugged as your chewed.

“Where did you get carrots?” Tom laughed in confusion.

“The snack table outside.” You replied as you ate another one.

“There’s a snack table? Oh, that’s why you tasted like peppers.” He realized. Neither of you realized what he said but the interviewer raised an eyebrow.

“You know I can’t resist some peppy boys.” You told him. “That better be cut out.” You warned the camera.

“You say that every interview.” Tom pointed out.

“It feels warranted every interview.” You giggled. “You know I debated stealing some of the pineapple from the snack table to take home?”

“Of course you did. You and your smoothies.” Tom rolled his eyes.

“I love smoothies! Is that a crime?” You turned in your seat to ask him.

“Yes! You drink a smoothie every morning and then get hungry twenty minutes later. You guys, she does not eat enough.” Tom said to the camera.

“It’s better than you and your thirty jars of jelly in the refrigerator because someone can’t go a day without toast.” You shot back.

“Oh, do you guys live together?” The interviewer asked in surprise.

You and Tom blinked in surprise at accidentally revealing that fact.

“Uhh, yeah. We’re um…” You started.

“Roommates.” Tom said quickly. “I live in the UK but I work mainly in the States, so I live with Y/n when I’m here.”

“Roommates? How cute.” The interviewer smiled.

“Just adorable.” You mumbled.

You dropped your purse on the hotel bed that night and put you hands on your hips. Without even looking at you, Tom could sense you anger. He sheepishly looked up at you and gave you a weak grin.

“I’m sorry?” He offered.

“For what?” You demanded.

“I don’t know. You haven’t told me yet.” He said.

“Roommates? You told him we were roommates?” You asked, not bothering to mask the hurt in your voice.

“Well why else would we live together?” Tom defended his answer.

“I don’t know, maybe because we’ve been in a committed relationship for over a year.” You grumbled. Tom heard the frustration in your voice and and put a gentle hand on your arm.

“But they don’t know that, darling.” He said softly.

“But I want them too. You keep pushing back telling our fans. You said we’d tell them before the press tour.” You said, feelings tears rise to your eyes.

“Yes, but then I realized all the interviews would focus on our relationship and not the movie.” Tom reminded you. “We needed to promote the movie.”

“No one needs to promote Marvel movies! They’re Marvel movies!” You exclaimed.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this, sweetheart. We agreed not to tell our fans.” Tom tried to talk you down.

“We agreed not to tell our fans right away. It’s been a year Tom. Do you not want them to know?” You sighed.

“I like my privacy, love. I don’t want the world intruding on us. I love you too much to share.” Tom cupped your face in his hands but you looked away.

“You say you love me, but tell the world I’m nothing but a best friend.” You said sadly. “Or worse, a roommate.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, angel. I’m sorry.” Tom apologized. You dropped the subject and went to bed without another word. You were cold towards Tom all the next day until your interview that night, the last of the press tour.

The media frenzy of rumors came to an end during a game of Charades on Jimmy Fallon. You were on Jimmy’s team, leaving Tom and Benedict as your opponents. You shot flirty banter back and forth all game until finally, your team won.

“Haha.” You pointed a jeering finger at Tom as you got off the couch and approaching him. He had his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched you with pure joy. “Just like the War of 1812, the British lost-“ You couldn’t finish your burn because Tom had pulled you into a kiss.

“Sorry, darling. You looked so cute up there. I couldn’t resist.” He mumbled against your lips.

“Wait, are you two together?” Jimmy asked, interrupting the moment. He was looking back and forth between you and Tom and the camera. You realized that the moment occurred on live television and suddenly felt shyer than you ever had before.

Tom looked at you, allowing you to be the one to confirm it after wanting too for so long. You looked into the camera and smirked.

“Truth is…I am dating Tom Holland.” You said in true Tony Stark fashion. The audience irrupted into applause and you couldn’t stop your smile from breaking through. Tom looked at you fondly and pulled you into a hug.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You mumbled against his chest.

“Yes I did.” He whispered into your ear. “love my privacy, but I love you more.”

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