#marvel looses their phones for a week if they kill her

[help-fzzt]

SPIDERMAN NWH TRAILER ///

na-ah. nope. no no no nopity nope marvel you are nOT GWEN STACYING ZENDAYA IT IS NOT HAPPENING 

[atlaese]

Black holes

Summary: you've both got a dark history, no way something could ever happen, right? Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Words: 13K lmao i went OFF TW: talking about mental health, anxiety, depression, talking about violence, probably some death, food, cursing, angst, eventual fluff, tfatws spoilers, bad writing™ from yours truly, yes that should be it? A/N: this absolute beast has been a long long time in the making, and im very proud of this baby <3 like i put my heart on a silver platter and i offer it to you 🫀. i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it. This was written mostly to take a break from studying for finals, so do excuse any typos or weird thingys. the first part is based on an actual conversation I had with my therapist about why I’m so single™ i love feedback :)))) (so let's hear those thoughts! 💞) i'm actually so scared to post this lmao let's hope it doesn't flop

Song I listened to and got some lines out: Black Hole by Griff

MARVEL MASTERLIST | BUCKY BARNES MASTERLIST

Week 1

“I trust people,” the words slowly left his mouth, not convincing dr. Raynor at all. It didn’t convince himself fully either, to be honest.

“Okay, give me your phone,” Dr Raynor bent over, holding out her palm, a stern look on her face.

“You don’t have ten phone numbers on this thing. Oh, and you’ve been ignoring the texts from Sam. Look, you gotta nurture friendships, I am the only person you have called all week. That is so sad,” she scoffed as she flipped the phone closed and threw it back over to Bucky. “You’re alone. You’re a 100 years old. You have no history, no family-“

“Are you lashing out at me doc? Cause that’s really unprofessional you know,” Bucky grunted, “I mean when did that start, when you started yelling at your clients?”

Dr. Raynor smacked the notepad on her thigh, aggressively scribbling stuff down.

“Oh, the notebook. That’s great.”

“Alright, give me a break, I’m trying okay? This is new for me,” he sighed after a second, “I didn’t have a moment to deal with anything, you know.

“I had a little… calm in Wakanda, and other than that I went from one flight to another for 90 years.”

“So, now that you’ve stopped fighting, what do you want?”

What did he want? A normal life? No one that looked at him weird when they saw his arm? Not feeling like a killing machine that could let loose any second?

He eye twitched as he mulled over his thoughts, the next words tasting bitter, “peace.”

“That is utter bullshit!” she scoffed, not believing one word he had said this whole session.

“You’re a terrible shrink,” he offered, his lips twisted into a frown.

“I was an excellent soldier. I saw a lot of dead bodies and I know how that can shut you down,” dr. Raynor recalled, “and if you were alone, that is the quietest most personal hell, and James, it is very hard to escape.

“Look I know that you’ve been through a lot, but you got your mind back, you are being pardoned, I mean these are good things.

“You’re free,” she added after a moment, trying to get a reaction out of him.

“To do what?” His voice was monotone and steely. He was free, but if this is what freedom felt like, he’d rather be back alone in Wakanda.

“You need friends, James. You need other people in your life to be happy and to have that so called peace you wish for,” she started, trying to get eye contact but failing as Bucky kept looking behind her.

Bucky just shrugged and looked down at his hands again, refusing to say anything. Deep down he realized she was right, but she had no idea what he had been through for the last 90 years. She didn’t realize how hard it was to trust people other people again, as well as trusting that his goddamn mind wouldn’t get reset again and turn him back into him.

“I’ll work on it,” he grimly said, just to get her off his back.

Dr. Raynor glanced at her watch, “we have 15 minutes left, anything else you want to get off your chest?”

* * *

A few rooms over, you were also in a session with your therapist. The anxiety that used to take over your entire life, eventually caused you to look for a therapist. It had gotten better a little bit already, however your therapist also wanted to address some other stuff she noticed in you during the intense sessions.

“y/n, you keep mentioning, and I quote, ‘my ass is so single, I have to grab it myself’,” a sigh left her mouth, looking through the notes she jotted down over all the previous sessions. “but I don’t ever recall you doing something about that, right?”

“Well, no, not exactly no. I can only complain about it,” you slumped a little further into the couch, eyes focussed on the creases that lined your palms. Eye contact with dr. Russo was way too intense for your liking sometimes. She never blinked, almost trying to hypnotize you and it scared you a little.

“Instead of complaining, you could either go on dating apps or go on dates, or you know, stay alone but stop complaining?” she offered, a sly smirk on her face as your eyes snapped up towards hers, finally looking at her straight for the first time this session.

“Yeah, well I tried online dating. It sucks. I match with someone and they never reach out. And real life dating sucks as well. No one has ever asked me on a date.”

Dr. Russo scribbled something in her notepad again, making you sigh and look around her office. The taxidermy butterflies on the wall behind her creeped you out a little. What kinda shrink was she if she had dead animals propped up as decoration?

“So it never occurred to you that you could send the first message? Or ask someone out?”

Glancing up towards the ceiling, you blew out your cheeks, “well, if you say it like that, it’s easy!”

“Wow, I never thought about that before, thanks doc!” you exclaimed, now looking down at your phone to check the time, “Oh no, it’s been an hour already. Well, I guess we’re out of time, see you next week!”

You quickly stood up to leave the room and dr. Russo cleared her throat, “at least make some friends y/n! You can’t stay alone forever!”

The hallway was empty as you stepped away from dr. Russo’s office, the very last one in the long hallway. Just before you reached the door to the lobby, the door next to you opened and a man fully dressed in black stumbled out, a pissed off look set on his face. His body collided with yours and you almost lost your balance.

“Watch out, asswipe!” you shrieked, speeding off without actually checking on the guy.

“Jesus, good day to you too,” he called out behind you.

Just as you reached the door handle, you turned around slightly and gave him the finger. Whatever this guy thought he was, he was the one who didn’t look both ways before stepping out the door.

Bucky’s mouth fell open as he watched the woman give him the finger and then slam the door in his face. Whatever her therapist had said to her must have really ruined her day.

Bucky left the building, opting to go for a walk instead straight home. He couldn’t bear the look on Yori’s face when he talked about his dead son after today’s session. Maybe he should swing by next week, they could go to Izzy’s again for sushi.

Week 2

“Dude, its trash! What does it matter?” your voice pitched a little higher, upset that your neighbour, mr. Nakajima, wouldn’t let you use his trash can for the much needed take out you had ordered after your therapy session.

“y/n, you’ve got your own. Why are you so lazy? This generation,” he shook his head as he turned around to pull out the bag.

“Here, use your own!” he pushed the trash bag in your arms and you stumbled back a little, not expecting mr. Nakajima to actually pull out your trash from the smelly trash can.

“Come on, man. I don’t have any trash bags and I can barely afford rent,” you gave a bitter laugh, “we’re already stuck in this shithole, we should stick together Yori!”

Mr. Nakajima pressed a finger against your shoulder, “it’s mr. Nakajima, and you don’t even answer the door when I knock! That makes it very hard to be neighbourly!”

Before you could respond, a buff guy stepped in between you and mr. Nakajima, a pointed look on his face as he calmed down the older man.

“Hey! We were talking!” you gesticulated, waving a finger between you and Yori. Whoever this guy was, butting in to a conversation was rude - even when said conversation was more like an argument.

The guy turned towards you now, “sorry, ’m Bucky,” he mumbled, checking your face two times because you seemed very familiar, he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Yori’s just a bit stressed from being cooped up all day.”

“Well, Yori,” you emphasized his name, a bit pissed that he could address the older man by his first name, “should go out more then.”

Mr. Nakajima luckily was held back by Bucky, because you were sure the old man would pounce on you, the look on his face telling all.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Bucky implored, keeping his hand on Yori’s shoulder. Were you a relative of someone on his list of amends or something?

“I live in the building, apartment next to him,” you nodded towards Yori, “I’m y/n.”

“Ah, okay, well Yori and I were just on our way to Izzy’s right? It’s Wednesday, let’s enjoy some sushi, yeah?”

Bucky lightly pushed Yori the other way and gave you a half-hearted smile and said goodbye, hoping that you wouldn’t trash Yori’s apartment or kick over his bin.

The older man muttered something, but he looked happy to be out and about in the world, with a much younger friend than most of his peers.

Bucky and Yori left you standing in the alley with the trash bag still in your arms. Yori was talking animatedly when Bucky turned his head back towards you and he eyed Yori’s trashcan.

A grin took over your face when you understood what he meant, and you dropped the bag in the trash.

“Have fun!” you yelled out behind them, and mr. Nakajima held up a hand, not even looking back at you as they turned the corner.

Week 3

Walking home from therapy, you grabbed your headphones and blasted classical music through them, trying to push away the feeling of unease that was swirling in your stomach. The noise of the city mixed with the hundreds of people all around you were not helping the anxiety you felt.

You turned the corner to your apartment building when you watched mr. Nakajima being escorted outside by Bucky.

Bucky pressed a gloved hand against the door, holding it open for you. You bent your head as a way of saying thank you and pressed the button for the lift.

A finger tapped you on your shoulder as you were scrolling through your playlist trying to find a certain song and you turned around to face them, the one ear of your headphones pushed away so you could understand them.

“Are you deaf or something?” Bucky asked, pointing to his ears.

“Ah, it’s you again. Taking Yori out on a date again?” The lift dinged and the rickety doors opened slowly.

“Its noise cancellation by the way,” you added, pointing towards your headphones.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Bucky pried, his brows pushed together.

“It means that noise doesn’t filter through,” you stuck your hand between the doors of the lift, preventing it from closing and going up again.

“Are you implying that I’m noise?”

“Yes. Anyway, why are you stopping me? Don’t let the old man wait,” you took a step into the lift, but kept your hand above the sensor, leaving the doors open.

“Well, uh. Here’s the thing,” he scratched the back of his neck and nodded his head towards the backdoor, “Yori said you’re kind of a loner and he also wanted to apologize.”

You ignored the first statement. It wasn’t false anyway, but you were impressed that Yori noticed that.

“Why isn’t Yori here himself then?” you popped out a hip, fully leaning on one leg as you tilted your head a bit, lips pursed.

“We have a reservation at Izzy’s. We go every Wednesday after thera- uh, yeah-, yeah just every Wednesday,” he blushed a little and he gave you a lopsided grin, “his treat, take it or leave it.”

The lift dinged again, signaling it had been waiting for a long period already. You rubbed your face in your hand for a moment before sighing, “sure. I’m hungry anyway."

* * *

The restaurant was very busy for a Wednesday evening. You were sitting next to Bucky at the bar, mr. Nakajima on his other side. The golden maneki-neko was waving at you the whole time, and it distracted you a little from the numerous people in the restaurant. The three of your looked very odd together to say the least: an older man, a younger man wearing gloves inside, and you; bags under your eyes that you were sure could be identified as a new type of black.

Yori had apologized and you had as well, saying you had a bad… week and you promised you would come by once in a while, so he wasn’t as lonely in his apartment. Yori was actually pretty cool you figured, as he was pestering Bucky the whole time about his love life, as well as how bad he was holding his chopsticks.

Yori was trying to get Bucky to ask out the waitress, and you amusedly popped a piece of sushi in your mouth as you listened to their bickering.

Bucky was shaking his head and giving Yori a death stare as he asked Leah out for him. Your gaze flitted between Bucky and Leah and you could see the wheels turning in her head trying to figure out the relationship between you and Bucky.

You stared back down at your plate, deciding which piece of sushi would be next, trying to send the hint that there was nothing going on between you. For Leah that was a sign you were not interested at all. She agreed and told Bucky when her shift ended.

“Wow, Yori, you’re quite the matchmaker, aren’t you?” The question was kind of muffled as you had just popped a big piece of sushi in your mouth, but Yori fervently nodded anyway.

“I used to do it to my son all the time,” he recalled better times where his son was still alive, “nothing ever came of it, but at least he was out for an evening.”

Bucky was staring at his beer bottle, an uncomfortable look across his face and you wondered why the subject of death made him so uncomfortable. To think of it, you had no idea who this guy was, beside a first name.

You nudged his bottle of beer with yours and raised your eyebrows in question. He just shook his head and stood up, announcing that he needed a breath of fresh air.

Yori had moved on to talking to the person next to him, asking about their age and mentioning how many people had died that week of old age.

You slipped out of your seat, not yet comfortable enough with Yori to butt in the conversation, and followed Bucky outside into the fresh air, curious as to why he suddenly felt uneasy when before he looked perfectly fine.

He was leaning against the wall staring up at the night sky, a small notebook clasped between his gloved hands.

When you cleared your throat, he quickly put away the notebook in the pocket of his black pants and straightened up his stance.

“It’s real stuffy inside,” you offered as a reason, taking a deep breath of fresh air. It had actually become quite busy, busier than you could handle at the moment.

He pursed his lips in acknowledgment, but didn't actually say something.

It was actually pretty calm in the part of the city, an occasional hoot of a horn somewhere in the distance the only thing disturbing the comfortable silence.

“It’s nice that you take Yori out every week,” you broke the silence after a bit, “I know I made fun of it but I’m sure he appreciates it.”

The pained look on his face was gone after a second, but you caught it anyway. Up until that point you just thought it was neighbourly and out of pure friendliness, but there might have been another reason. It did feel like something personal, something you weren’t supposed to ask about.

“Yeah, gets him out of his apartment and me too, I guess,” he finally decided upon, masking his feelings and putting on a smile.

“I don’t believe someone like you doesn’t go out much, you look like a chick-magnet.”

“No, a person-magnet in general,” you added, looking him up and down. You had to admit, he was easy on the eyes, the scowl he usually wore adding a certain type of mysteriousness that drew even you in.

“Geez, thanks,” he scoffed, blushing a little nonetheless.

“What’s your excuse for cooping up in your apartment?” he returned the question, “I’m sure you’re a ‘person magnet’ too.” He even used his fingers as quotation marks, which made you laugh.

“Great question for another time, Bucky,” you looked down at your phone. It was getting late and this question hit a little too close to home for now.

A corner of his mouth lifted, “another time, huh?”

“See you later, Bucky,” you winked.

You went back inside to grab your coat, pay your part of the bill - you didn't feel comfortable with Yori paying for you -, and say goodbye to Yori, promising him once again to visit him once in a while.

When you got back outside again, Bucky was on the phone, listening to a voicemail it seemed like. A line was deep set on his forehead, but he smiled as you waved goodbye at him.

Bucky was a quiet soul, but you felt that there was some darkness hidden deep inside of him. The darkness that harnessed your soul as well, and damn you if it didn’t drew you in.

Week 7

“Okay, y/n, let’s circle back to why you’re here in the first place,” dr. Russo said, her pen ready to take notes.

“Fuck this,” you whispered to yourself, but dr. Russo had heard it and was already writing down something in that stupid notebook of hers.

It stayed quiet for a minute. It’s not that you didn’t want to talk about it. It was so hard to get the words over your lips as images flashed through your brain, making you relive on of the worst moments of your life over and over again. The moment your life bursted out like a supernova, destroying everything in its way.

“What if I asked you to rank how bad it still influences your day to day life, on a scale from 1 being nothing to 10 a lot?” She tried, her gaze set on your face, willing you to say something, anything.

You heard the explosion before you saw it, too busy laughing with the driver instead of looking in front of you. The car in front of you exploded when it drove over a hidden roadside bomb, the wreck flipping over onto its roof. The vehicle you were in slammed on the brakes and it slid to a halt as all oxygen left your lungs. Your colleagues, your colleagues were in that car that just exploded right in front of your eyes. Laura, your colleague, whose brown curls were still bouncy even after wearing a helmet all day. Laura, who just got engaged to her girlfriend. Laura, who just-

“Like a 7, I would say,” you guessed after thinking for moment. You tried to keep your emotions under wraps, tried to have a blank slate on your face. You couldn’t risk breaking again, setting back the months of work you had already done.

“Okay, 3 months ago it was a 12, so I would say that’s an improvement, y/n,” dr. Russo smiled. “I’m very proud of all the work you’ve put in y/n,” she added, emphasizing your name. It didn’t even matter if she said your name or not, the numbness just took over sometimes, so far that when someone said your name, you didn’t even react.

What were you supposed to say now, thank you? Thank you for helping you getting out of the deep hole you couldn’t get yourself out of, not that you had tried very hard anyway. Thank you for filling the black hole that replaced your heart and made it impossible to connect to other human beings.

“Yeah, sure,” you mumbled as you stared at the butterflies again. Some were dark, fully opaque colours with a speck of colour mixed in. Others were a million and one colours, alive and vibrant. The darker ones always drew you in more, ever since you started coming here.

“So, let’s talk about Nadir, the local man who translated and interpreted for you, yes?” dr. Russo was digging deep in this session, picking at each and every one of the trauma’s you suffered after your humanitarian aid mission in the middle east.

“Help!” The pained voice sounded over the loud ringing that was going through your head. The team and you had stumbled out of the car one after the other, looking at the burning wreck in front of you. Nadir was on his motorcycle just behind the first car, he was lying down on the ground, his bike on top of his lower body, debris of the car piled on top of him as well. The team had sped to his rescue, pushed the bike off of him after a quick check to make sure it wouldn’t cause any more harm. It wouldn’t be okay. Nadir would never use his right leg again. Nadir didn’t deserve this. No one deserved this-

“I haven’t talked to him since the incident,” your voice came out hoarse, your throat dry as sand paper as you thought about Nadir. Nadir whose smile made everything you had been through worth it. Nadir who probably never wanted to talk to you again.

“Why not? It’s great for trauma survivors to stick together, to talk about it, so it can be processed,” dr. Russo tapped her pen against her notebook, “and you know, Nadir used to be a friend, something you’re in dire need of.”

You felt your jaw tense as she repeated for the millionth time that you needed friends to talk about your stuff. This wasn’t something you could spring on people you just met, why couldn’t she understand that?

“Have you made any friends yet, y/n?” she pried again. You hated how much she said your name, trying to form a rapport and to get your attention every time she asked a question.

“I actually went to dinner with my elderly neighbour and his friend,” you admitted. Maybe she would back off on the friends questions from now on.

“Oh, that’s great! These old folks must be very happy to be on a date with a young woman like you.”

“Uh well, his friend is more my age? I don’t know why or how they’re friends, but he’s nice,” the look of surprise made you realize you had maybe said a bit too much and she quickly wrote down something else in her notebook.

A few more minutes. A few more and you were done for this week. You could put on your headphones, play some classical music to drown out the noise from the city and walk home.

“Maybe ask this friend of his out for dinner? Get to know him, y/n, see it as your assignment for next week. Ask him out, on a date or just as friends. That’s not too hard, right?”

You shot her a dirty look, but she remained unfazed as she closed her notebook without breaking eye contact with you.

“I’m serious, y/n.”

“Ah, shit, sure why not,” you stood up from the couch and pulled on your coat, “see you next week, doc.”

The door closed behind you and you let out a deep sigh, slumping against the wall. These sessions really drained every ounce of energy you had left, so much that all you wanted to do when you got home was order take-out and binge watch some trash tv.

Another door closing snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked at the other person who had left their therapist’s office.

The figure was very familiar as you racked your brain for whoever this could be.

“Uh, wait!” You yelled in the spur of the moment, not really thinking about the fact that people didn’t particularly like getting recognized leaving a therapy session.

The figure turned around, the look on their face revealing that they also recognized your voice.

“Wait, Bucky?” How the hell was this possible? Your neighbour’s friend had the same time slot on the exact same day, just a different therapist?

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” His gravely voice reached your ears as you stepped closer to him. He looked tired, and bored. God, he must be a fun client in therapy.

“Probably same reason as you,” you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Therapy,” he answered after a beat, nodding lightly, “okay. Are you walking home?”

You nodded and opened the outside door, a gust of wind hitting you in the face immediately. Bucky followed you outside, his gloved hands hanging limply by his side.

“You go to therapy for you staring problem?” You nudged his side and he scoffed.

“You here for your trash problems?” You let your jaw drop, but laughed anyway. You didn’t expect him to actually play along, but the small smile that was present on his face made you realize he did actually like to bicker.

“Um, hey, I really don’t want to ask, but my therapist is making me do this,” you said when you arrived at your apartment building. Your tiredness had to wait, as this was a moment that probably wouldn't happen again any time soon.

He stopped in front of the entrance, a look of puzzlement crossed his face, “sounds intense?”

You nodded, “I’m apparently in dire need of friends, so, uh, would you want to grab dinner?”

“As friends of course,” you quickly added, “I know you’re dating that girl form Izzy’s.”

“Your assignment was for you to ask me out?” He ignored the comment about Leah, his hands now in his front pockets and a cocky smile on his face.

“Please, don’t be a dick about it,” you begged, trying your best not to smile, so you rolled your eyes instead.

“Sure, let’s go,” he stretched out his arm, signaling he was ready to go, “‘m not dating Leah by the way.”

“Wait, what? Didn’t you go out with her?”

“Kinda walked out on her in the middle of the date,” he admitted, an uneasy look on his face as you kept walking through the city.

“You did not,” you gasped, “please tell me you had a good excuse.”

When he didn’t respond for moment, you clicked your tongue disapprovingly, “c’mon Bucky, that’s rude.”

“I left a note the next day, felt bad,” he admitted as you both stopped in front of a small burger joint

You shook your head, “you seem like such a gentleman though!”

“I am!” He exclaimed, “I even got her flowers. Apparently no one does this any more?”

“You’re quite interesting, aren’t you?” So he was a gentleman after all, just not all the time?

“Well, I think people mostly give flowers to someone they’re dating for a long time already. Not that I know, haven’t been on a date in ages.”

“Makes two of us then,” he replied as you sat down at a table, a waiter bringing over the menu’s.

You both ordered a hamburger with fries when the waitress returned. You settled in your seat, leaning back and scanning Bucky’s face.

“So you don’t date,” he asked, but it seemed more like a statement. His fingers were toying with his leather gloves, that he was still wearing inside the restaurant.

The words of dr. Russo shot through your head. Friends talk about this kind of stuff, right? Was this a good point in the barely-there relationship to dump all you problems over him, hoping that he wouldn't walk out on this either?

“There’s this big, black hole where my heart used to be,” you murmured, staring outside at the busy street.

“Just some real shitty stuff happened to me,” you elaborated when you noticed the confused look on his face.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked as the waitress put down your drinks.

You took a big gulp from your soda, giving yourself a second to form a coherent sentence in your head before answering.

“Uh, I was- I am a humanitarian aid coordinator. I was on a mission in the middle east a few months ago,” the words came out surprisingly easy, easier than when you were in your therapy session.

“We were driving back to our camp when one of our vehicles drove over a hidden roadside bomb. Killed 4 people instantly, another one lost a leg.

“So by sheer luck I’m still here and some of my colleagues aren’t,” you bit down hard on your lower lip, willing the tears back to where they came from.

“So, that’s why I’m in therapy every Wednesday. Real fun,” you concluded, trying to make fun of yourself and your situation but failing miserably.

“How long has it been?” He softly asked. His voice had no hint of pity, it felt more like… understanding?

“Like, three months give or take.”

You both stayed silent when the waitress placed your orders in front of you. Once she left, you immediately took a big bite from the hamburger, not realizing how hungry you actually were.

“Well, this feels like an interrogation, so answer me this; Yori told me you didn’t show up last week, or the week before. Care to explain why you ditched the old man?” You spoke up, popping a fry in your mouth.

He sighed, a grim look appearing on his face, “I uh, I got arrested.”

“Arrested?” Your voice pitched a bit higher, “what are you, a criminal?”

“I missed a court ordered therapy session, so you decide.”

“I didn’t even know court could mandate therapy sessions, what for?” Bucky had asked difficult questions before, now it was your turn.

“I, uh, I was the winter soldier?” He slowly uttered the words. The reaction of people always went one of two ways. Either it was “so cool, you’re like a killing machine dude!” or “ah you murdered all these people? And you get to walk around freely? Jesus, our justice system is messed up.”

“Oh,” you scratched at the chipped nail polish on your finger, “but you were brainwashed? So technically it wasn’t you?”

He let out the breath he was unconsciously holding and straightened his back, “yeah well, the memories are still up here.” He tapped his temple and popped another fry in his mouth.

“Fucking memories are the worst sometimes,” you agreed, downing the rest of your soda with ease.

“Tell me about it. Haven’t had a decent night of sleep in weeks,” he admitted, explaining why he had the dark circles under his eyes.

You pointed at your own, “same. What’s your go-to thing when you wake up after a nightmare?”

A smirk took over his face, he couldn’t believe you were actually bonding over trauma.

“I usually watch tv,” he narrowed his eyes at you, trying to figure out what you would do.

“I think, you go out to have a coffee in a 24/7 shop.”

You were impressed, “wow, that’s… very close actually. But it’s tea and I usually bring a book along with me.”

“Fair enough,” he laughed, exposing a gorgeous smile he had been hiding behind a stoic facade. You couldn’t help but laugh along, the black hole that was your heart not tugging away for once at the wonderful feeling that spread all throughout your body.

Week 9

Dr. Russo’s previous patient had needed a bit more time, so your session had started 25 minutes late. It didn’t happen often, so you just listened a little longer to your music. This also meant that your session was running late as well and you’d have to walk through the city during rush hour.

The sky had turned a pretty pink as the sun was setting for the day. The hallway was deserted as always, and you were kinda disappointed that Bucky’s session hadn’t run late as well. You hadn’t seen him in a while, he was always away for some sort of thing abroad with his partner. You had visited Yori two times, once where you played GO together and the other time just people watched in a small tearoom down the street.

Dr. Russo had proposed you walked home without music today, to get used to the sounds and noises of the vibrant city that was New York. The prospect of walking home without music, without anyone to distract you from the noises scared you a bit, but you bit down on your lip and put away your headphones in your bag.

Sound filtered in immediately when you opened the door to the street, and you took a deep breath before stepping out of the door. Closing your eyes for a second, you tried to get used to everything. A couple of people laughing in the distance, a car that hooted its horn a few blocks away, footsteps passing right in front of you-

“Y/n?”

Your eyes snapped open, immediately connecting to Bucky’s blue eyes.

“Bucky? Uh, I-, I didn’t know you were still here?”

A flush crept its way up from his neck to his cheeks and he scraped his throat, “I, yes, I was hoping to see you, but my session was done and you weren’t there so…”

He waited a second, the tension in the air feeling almost palpable. His voice was a bit rough, you noted.

“I asked the receptionist and yeah-, she explained dr. Russo’s previous session ran out.”

You fiddled with the zipper on your coat, trying to ignore the heat crawling up to your face.

“Uh, did you want to talk?” You asked after a beat. His blue eyes had been boring into yours, and you couldn’t deny the fluttery feeling that occurred in your stomach.

“Yeah, something like that,” he croaked out, “do you wanna grab a drink or-?”

You rolled your lips in fake consideration, the decision already made when he finished his sentence.

“Sure,” you nodded as well, “I know a calm place not too far from here.”

You nodded your head to the left, signaling he should follow you.

“How was your thing abroad?” You tentatively asked after a minute, trying to ignore all the noise that was giving you slight anxiety already.

His voice was a bit different than normal, just a little more of a grim sound lining it, “uh, heavy shit to be honest.”

That was all he said in that moment and you decided you’d save for it later.

“Well, I visited Yori twice,” you filled the silence. Not that it was awkward, you just wanted to hear his smooth voice in your ears again, focus on the exact tone he was using and how much calmer it made you feel.

“Oh did you now? Knew you’d like the man.”

“We played GO once and I had absolutely no idea how to play, so he won - and rubbed it in my face!” You gestured with your hands, not noticing the fascinated look that was growing on Bucky’s face.

“Oh, we went people watching as well,” you pushed open the door of the little bookstore/cafe combination you often frequented, “and this couple was trying to take a picture next to the fountain, yeah? Well, the guy fell straight in! It was amazing!”

The door closed behind you, the silence in the small shop immediately made you realize how talkative you had been the whole way over.

“Shit, sorry,” you cringed, your first instinct was to walk away, so you disappeared between the shelves filled with tons of books.

“Hey, it’s alright, I like hearing you talk,” he caught up with you, his hand grabbing your elbow to stop you in your tracks. He pulled you a little closer to him,

His firm but gentle grip grounded you, “it’s just, the noise of the city gets to me sometimes. It helps to talk over it.”

“I don’t want to diminish your feelings, but I do understand, y/n,” his gaze connected to yours.

It was quiet all around you, standing closely together between hundreds of books. The sincerity that flashed through his eyes made you hold your breath for a moment, your heart not feeling like a black hole, but more like a nebula. A nebula filled with a thousand stars and even more colours you couldn’t begin to imagine.

“Right,” you whispered after a while, before snapping out of your stupor and taking a step back, away from him and his intoxicating everything.

He cleared his throat and blinked a few times, clearly under the same trance you had been.

You grabbed his hand and pulled him with you, to the back of the bookstore where the cafe was located.

“Ta da,” you gestured to the room, random chairs and thrifted couches mixed in between bookcases filled old classics and luscious plants and strings of lights. There was a small counter with freshly baked goods and non-alcoholic drinks as well as more books spread all around the place.

It was cozy and homey and eclectic and dark: everything you needed when the nightmares woke you up and you couldn’t calm down at your own place. It was open 24/7 and had the best selection of tea you could ever wish for.

“Cozy,” he ran his finger over the backs of the books next to the table you were standing next to, pulling off your bag.

You hummed in response and sat down, dumping your coat over the back of the seat.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You asked, getting yourself comfy in the big chair, three big pillows propped behind your back.

Bucky sat down, tossing a few of the pillows away because who needs this many pillows? He pulled off his gloves as well, revealing his vibranium hand to you for the first time and nodded slowly, licking his lips.

“It’s good news,” he started, a timid smile on his face, “great news even, if I’m being honest.”

You raised your brow in question, a smile tugging on the ends of your lips.

“I think I’m ready to stop therapy.” The words felt unsure, not set in stone yet.

You leaned over and put your hand on his knee, “Bucky, that’s amazing! I’m really proud of you.”

He rubbed his neck and looked away from your face, trying to mask his happiness.

“Did dr. Raynor clear you then? Or did you have to go back to court again-“

He held up a hand and you stopped talking immediately. After rummaging in his coat, he pulled out a little notebook. The same notebook you had seen him clutching closely when you first went to Izzy’s with him.

He looked through it, looking for a specific page before he stopped and slid the notebook over to you.

It was a full page with names, all but one crossed through. You didn’t recognize the crossed out names. The one that wasn’t crossed out yet made you pull your brows together.

“What’s Yori doing on this list?” You asked as you looked at him, “no, wait, what is this list?”

His finger ghosted over the crossed out names, “these are people who I made amends to, because of you know… the winter soldier thing.”

“Ah.”

“And Yori, he- uh, his son-,” he choked on the words. You grabbed his hand that was pointing to the names with both hands, the metal a bit chilly to the touch.

“Take your time,” you rubbed your thumbs in circles over his hand, trying to ease his nerves a little. It reminded you of your mother, when you’d get anxiety attacks during school or when the stress was just getting to you. It made you focus on the feeling of her soft skin on your hand, rather than the thoughts in your head that felt like a tornado ravaging everything or the way your heartbeat would feel different than usual.

He pulled himself together after a minute, dragging his right hand over his face.

“I uh, I- he killed his son… he-he wasn’t even a target but, but he was a witness, and- and the winter soldier doesn’t leave any witnesses,” he managed to say. He bit on the inside of his cheek, refusing to show any emotions.

“I have tried to tell him, multiple times, but-, but I always choke and back down. And… it’s time that I stop lying.”

His eyes were red and he was quickly blinking to get rid of the tears that were waiting to come out.

“Hi, what can I get you guys?” The waiter appeared out of thin air and you ordered a green tea with citrus for yourself and an americano for Bucky, along with some fresh cookies. You thanked them as they walked off to get your stuff, and you turned back to look at Bucky.

“Thanks,” he croaked once the waiter was out of earshot.

You nodded and let go of his hand, feeling a bit awkward that you’d been holding onto it so long.

“Here,” you closed the notebook and slid it back over to him, “I could come with to Yori? Only if you want to, of course.”

“I-, yeah, I would really like that, actually,” he breathed out and leaned back into the seat, drowning in the dark blue velvety fabric.

The waiter had dropped off your order after a while, putting a plate of cookies on the middle of the table.

“Just…, let me know when you want to go and I’ll be there,” you sincerely offered, then pushing a cookie in your mouth.

His whole face lit up as he watched you, your cheeks hamster-like as you were holding your hand in front of your mouth, trying to decently eat the cookie.

He lifted his cup of coffee to take a sip and then cradled it between his hands, “so, how is your therapy coming along?”

The cookie was still preventing you from speaking normally, so you held out your hand and rocked it slightly.

“So-so,” you added after a minute, “it really has its ups and downs.”

“She’s been pestering me about contacting another survivor, actually,” you admitted, “she says it will help me get to terms … or something along those lines.”

You took a sip of your tea, hiding your face behind your mug and avoiding Bucky’s intense gaze that was set on you.

“Do you- do you want to tell me about them?”

You put the mug back on the table and bit down on your lip.

Hesitation set in as you thought about Nadir. The vision of his right leg badly mangled under the bike flashing through your thoughts. Just thinking about it amplified the guilt you felt deep in your bones.

“Nadir had been with us for 7 weeks already. He-he was our local liaison and he interpreted for us as well,” you started the story, picturing Nadir’s face in front of you.

“He lived in the town we were staying in, so we saw his family a lot too. He had two young children, two boys and his wife always made us local food for when we’d be away for a few days.”

“So, a real family man then,” Bucky commented, a sad smile on his face.

“Yeah, his kids mean everything to him,” you nodded. The boys loved playing football with you and the rest of the team during down time, being much quicker than all the older people and slipping between the defense of your team. Quite literally as well, those boys wormed their way into your hearts and saying goodbye hurt more than you would’ve thought.

“After the incident,” your eyes glossed over as you tried not to choke on the words, “he-, he lost his right leg. So, playing football with his kids is probably out of the question.”

“Did he tell you that?” Bucky broke a cookie in two and slid a part over to you.

You rapidly blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the tears, “no, I don’t know actually. I don’t think he wants to talk to me.”

“What? Why would you say that?” His hand came to rest on your wrist, as you wiped your eyes with the back of your other hand.

“It’s my team’s fault he was in that situation! He wasn’t even supposed to be there, but we asked him to come with because we wanted his pers- personal opinion on something.

“He wasn’t even getting payed! We just- we just asked him if he wanted to come with us because he was such a great person and he just wanted to help!” you grimaced, your chin trembling and your head hanging low.

“Hey, don’t- don’t say that it’s your fault,” he wrapped his fingers tighter around your wrist to get your attention.

“That bomb was there, whether you were there or not. It’s a stupid coincidence. That’s war for you,” he started, putting your hand in both of his, his next words a bit softer than the ones before, “you can’t put words in Nadir’s mouth if you haven’t talked to him.”

He lowered his head, so his gaze could connect to yours, “talk to him. I’m sure blaming you or your team is not on his mind.”

“But, but what if he does?” You sniffled, “and- and I mean, the whole conflict got even worse after that. International aid workers that were caught in the middle? Made it all worse- so much worse.”

“But, sweetheart, I-,” he sighed, his brows pulled together as he watched you spiral into what he could only describe as a deep pit of despair.

“This is not your fault- not at all. You were at the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

When you finally looked up at him, he could see how much of a toll the whole thing actually had taken on you. Red eyes from a combination of exhaustion and crying, as well as the pronounced lines on your faces. Then he noticed how your hand was trembling in his, even when he was holding it so closely in his.

“I-i just feel like this black hole will swallow me so-soon,” you sniffled, trying to keep your eyes open, as tiredness set into your bones, making it difficult to even be.

“I’m sorry, I- I just feel that I don’t deserve the compassion you g-give me,” the words stuttered out.

The therapy session itself had been intense already, but you never expected the conversation with Bucky to take this turn. You never talked about the incident with anyone, except with dr. Russo. Even though you had told Bucky about the incident itself already, you had never revealed how you truly felt about everything and how your feelings were so intense sometimes, you felt they could be the end for you.

“No, please don’t say that,” the exasperated plea left his mouth, “you have been nothing but kind to me, even after everything I’ve told you.”

“And your literal job is helping people, of course you deserve everything you need,” he softly squeezed your hand, his eyes portraying trying to show you just how much you meant to him already.

“You have so much compassion for people, why should you not deserve any yourself?”

You sniffled again and rubbed away the tears under your eyes with one hand.

“I- I don’t know, it’s just hard,” letting out a sad giggle at the sound of your hoarse voice, “I don’t know what to do sometimes.”

“That’s alright, you’re allowed to get lost sometimes,” a toothy smile on his handsome face, “I was lost for a very long time, but look, I think I can confidently say that I’ve made it.”

“You did, you really did Bucky,” you nodded, a small smile coming back to your face again. It felt a bit like the sunshine after an intense rain shower, the moment the first rays of sun came back to warm your face.

“Thanks- and sorry. For spiraling a bit,” you said, putting your other hand on both of his.

“Hey, don’t worry,” grabbing both of your hands in his, “and talk to Nadir. Please.”

The warmth you felt radiating out of this person, made you feel like you were wrapped up in a blanket. Safe and cozy and a place you never wanted to leave again. How a person made you feel this way was not something you ever thought was possible, but the moment proved it existed. The dark hole within your heart was slowly starting to dissipate, swallowing itself whole without dragging you with it into the depths of the universe.

“Thank god this place is kinda dark, I think we both look like wrecks,” you shakily laughed as Bucky rolled his eyes.

Week 11

“Let’s talk about the week you’ve had, anything interesting you want to tell me about?” dr. Russo said, opening her notebook and clicking down on her pen.

“Uhm, yeah, sure,” you sat a bit forward on the edge of the seat, clasping your hands together as you gathered your thoughts.

“I met up with that new friend and I opened up about my situation,” you said, “and yeah. It was nice to open up about it actually.”

“I’m glad you opened up, now how did this friend came to be?” she said as she scanned her notes, “Was it the older man’s friend?”

“Yes. He’s my neighbours friend, but he also goes uh- went to therapy here, so we bumped into each other one time,” you nodded, looking over at dr. Russo who was jotting down some things.

“So, he understands what you’re going through then?” she questioned, “as he is also a client here, I suspect he isn’t one to judge?”

You quickly nodded, “no, yeah. He’s been really supportive it’s crazy.”

“Uh, I told him about Nadir,” you added after a silent moment, “and he pushed me to contact him.”

“Did you?”

You rolled your lips and scrunched your nose, “yeah.”

Dr. Russo stayed quiet, giving you time to mull over the words as she looked at your body language. The fact that you were sitting on the edge of your seat instead of leaned back into the couch showed a lot of improvement to her.

“He was really glad to finally hear from me,” your eyelash fluttering when you tried to keep the emotions in, “his kids-”

“His kids said they missed us, missed me,” you choked out, everything still feeling unreal.

“Did you talk about the roadside bomb?” dr. Russo pulled you out of the story for a moment, before you went off the rails.

Your right hand was gripping your thigh with a lot of pressure, trying to find another outlet without all emotions expressed on your face.

“yeah. He got a prosthetic leg and he’s even able to play football with his kids and they fled the conflict and are living a pretty good life, that’s what he said at least.”

Dr. Russo smiled at you as she shifted her gaze from your eyes to where your hand was turning pale from the pressure, “did you ask about whose fault it was?”

You harshly swallowed as you nodded, “he doesn’t blame me, or our team for that matter.”

“How does that make you feel?”

You let out a shaky laugh, releasing the tight grip on your thigh, “less guilty.”

“Almost relieved in a way, that they don’t blame me, or the team or the mission itself. They still believe we helped the community in a way, even if our being there and the-, the bo-bomb created another conflict.”

“Can you accept now that this is not your fault, not in any way?” dr. Russo asked.

Nadir confirming what Bucky had said did make the incident feel more like just what it was. An accident.

“Not fully,” you admitted, “but it is slowly starting to dawn upon me that there were other factors at play here and that I was just a cog in the machine.”

“You did really well, I’m proud of the progress you’re making,” dr. Russo clicked her pen.

“This friend is a good one, keep him close,” she added, a smile stretching over her face.

She closed her notebook, “now, I want to do an exercise for the rest of our time together.”

Week 15

“You ready?” You whispered as you stood in front of Yori’s door. Bucky looked a bit sick, if you were honest. His face had paled considerably and you honestly weren’t sure what to do if a super-soldier fainted. Could they faint?

“No,” he said after a beat, but he knocked on the door anyway.

If you told him you weren’t stressed, you’d be lying. Yori was a sweet old man, but what Bucky was going to tell him now, you had no idea how he would react. Bucky had been lying to the man for weeks, and not just a little white lie, no — the truth about what happened to his son.

The old man opened the door just a bit to get a look at his visitors, “hey, what are you doing here?”

He immediately opened the door further, revealing the ever candle-lit shrine and you heard Bucky taking a deep breath.

He let you enter first, and you gave Yori a tight lipped smile as you passed him.

The shrine to his son had multiple candles burning, and your gaze was stuck on the picture. You had been in Yori’s apartment before, but you didn’t know yet how his son had been killed. It felt wrong, almost as if you were a bystander in something you weren’t even part of.

“I have to tell you something,” Bucky’s voice was low and gentle, but you knew the words were getting stuck in his throat.

“About your son,” he added and Yori’s face immediately constricted into a frown.

Yori nodded a few times and held out his arm, gesturing that everyone should sit down. Yori probably heard the tone of voice Bucky used and knew whatever he was going to say, wasn’t going to be a simple thing.

You settled on a chair next to Bucky, mostly so you could gauge Yori’s reaction when he finally told him what happened to his son.

Bucky pulled off his gloves for the first time in Yori’s presence, revealing the vibranium hand that had been hidden for so long and took a deep breath in, the lines on his forehead creasing.

“He was murdered,” he simply said, choosing not to beat around the bush as to what faith his son had met all these years ago.

The look on Yori’s face broke your heart. You had come to appreciate the old man and his weird ways when you were out and about. He didn’t deserve this. His son didn’t deserve this. But there were some wicked people in the world who thought brainwashing soldiers into ruthless killing machines was okay. Neither the brainwashed people nor the victims ever deserved this fate.

“What?” He finally choked out.

“By the winter soldier,” Bucky’s voice was starting to lose the little ounce of confidence he had left in him, his throat constricting.

“And that was me.” His voice was shaking as he tried to blink away the tears that were forming in his eyes.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

Bucky looked down at his feet, the sight of Yori’s face to much to bear.

The tension in the room was palpable and you honestly had no idea what was about to happen next. Yori looked confused and sad, mixed with a hint of anger in the way he was staring at Bucky’s form.

“What do you mean, you didn’t have a choice?” were the first words he uttered after processing all the information.

He wasn’t looking at Bucky anymore, his gaze shifted to the picture of his son on the small shrine, the incense leaving a smoke trail around it.

Bucky expected Yori to throw him out of his apartment — he would’ve let him do it too.

He swallowed harshly, “I was experimented on, trying to recreate the su-super soldier serum, uh, then they brainwashed me — repeatedly, and put me on ice when they didn’t need me.”

Bucky’s jaw was set in a hard line as he tried . You on the other hand tried your best not to let a tear slip out as you watched the man next to you talk about the horrible things he endured.

“I’m so sorry,” Bucky finally choked out, his voice raspy and filled with regret as he looked at Yori, broken and alone.

Yori bit on the inside of his cheek before he shot up and looked at you, “I’d like it if you left — both of you.”

You didn’t miss the exasperated look on Bucky’s face as he realized Yori refused to even look at him.

You stood up and put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, signaling it was time to go. Bucky rubbed his face with his hand and then stood up as well.

Yori had already opened the front door, looking at the floor as you both shuffled towards the exit.

Bucky was first through the door this time, slowing when he passed Yori, but when he realized Yori wouldn’t acknowledge him, he quickly left. He already went to the elevator, not waiting for you as you stood in front of Yori.

“I’m so sorry, Yori,” you whispered as you touched the side of his arm.

A tear slipped down Yori’s face as he finally looked up at you. His eyes were vacant and his lips were turned into a deep frown as he nodded.

“If you ever want to talk — my door is always open.”

You stepped out of the door fully now and Yori didn’t say anything before the door closed, but you knew he’d accept your offer. Even if it was next week, next month or next year.

Bucky was waiting outside the apartment building, a grim look on his face as he watched the traffic go by.

“Just give him some time, Bucky,” you told him. The fact that Bucky owned up to apologizing meant a lot, but that didn’t mean everyone would or could just forgive him that easily.

“All the people he killed, I have to apologize for,” he grit his teeth, an angry scowl on his face.

“But no one — no one ever apologized to me for making me this way.”

“I still see their faces in front of me, you know,” he added when you didn’t respond.

All the emotions that were coursing through his veins now were fueled by anger, injustice and sadness. Sadness that he had to become this person, this person who will never feel satisfied with his life because of all the trauma’s he inflicted on people.

You grabbed his vibranium hand, the hand that would always remind him of the horrors he committed, and laced your fingers through his. The metal felt cold to your warm hands, as if portraying how he was feeling at that moment.

He didn’t even react to the gesture, only glanced your way when you lightly tugged on his hand.

“It’s not my place to apologize,” you tried, “and I don’t think anyone will ever apologize, which I’m sorry for.

“But the fact that you — you,” you pressed a finger against his chest, “wanted to apologize for stuff you never wanted to do, makes you the strongest and bravest person there is.”

You licked your lips, gaze shifting between his eyes as he chewed on his bottom lip, insecurity preventing him from accepting your compliment.

“I just have nothing left in me to give to the world, to anyone — to you,” he shakily breathed out as he squeezed your hand, “I don’t know why-, why you are being this kind to me.”

“I don’t think the world or me want anything from you,” you brought your intwined hands up to your chest, holding it closely to your heart.

“You are enough, Bucky, and I don’t know how I can get you to accept that,” you bent your head down and pressed a soft kiss against the back of his vibranium hand.

“I hope one day you’ll see what an impeccable person you are, someone who cares until it hurts too much and even then pressing on,” you wanted to let go of his hand, but his grip wouldn’t let you go.

“Uh, I-I honestly don’t know what to say,” his brow furrowed and a sad smile present on his face, “this is-, it’s the most honest thing someone has said to me for a while.”

“Thank you,” he added, his red eyes portraying just how much his emotions had shifted during the last 10 minutes.

“So, what do you say we get something to eat, huh? I think we could both use some food,” you changed the topic to a lighter one. The day had been very emotional already and you wanted to give him some time to process everything.

“Uh, I need to make a quick stop somewhere,” he pulled on your hand as he started walking towards the city centre, “then I’ll be free.”

* * *

After visiting Yori, Bucky had asked you to do one final thing. A final thing that would give him a clean slate, as he worded it.

When you ended up at the therapy center, you tried your best to hide the surprise on your face. You had waited outside as he went in. It had taken him longer than you expected, but you noticed the city sounds didn’t bother you as much anymore. Just waiting for Bucky was enough to distract you from the city that was alive and buzzing all around you.

After a while, he came back out, a few ripped off pages clutched between his fingers.

“Thanks- for today. For-for coming with me,” he said as you stood in front of the building you frequented every Wednesday.

“Yeah, I’m here for you, Bucky,” you nodded towards the pages, “what are those?”

He quickly put them away in his pocket, crumpling the neat pages without much care it seemed like, “uh-, just something I wanted to keep.”

You decided not to pry, instead asking him about dr. Raynor, “so, ‘m sure the goodbye was hard?”

He fell into step next to you, an unspoken agreement you’d visit the book store cafe again, seeking refuge from the busy city.

“Uh, well, actually she wasn’t there,” rubbing the scruff on his chin, he looked suspicious and he knew.

“What do you mean she wasn’t there? I thought you’d let her know beforehand you’d drop by?”

“Well, you know, she’s… a busy woman,” he puckered his lips, acting as if he had at least tried to get ahold of her.

“Bucky,” you whined, dragging out the last syllable, “you didn’t even try!”

“I left her a card, sweetheart, should be enough,” he put his arm around your shoulder and squeezed you against him.

“Now, I think it’s time for food, don’t ya think?”

Week 19

“And you’re sure you could bring a plus one?” The words rushed out as you followed Bucky closely on the docks to where his partner- scratch that, Captain America, was sitting.

“Don’t worry about it,” he weaved through the children, pretending to be hit a few times when a kid fake-punched him, “they welcomed me with open arms, so why wouldn’t they do the same for you?”

His sunglasses slid down on his nose as he gave you a pointed look over the rim, “besides, weren’t you the one who needed more friends?”

You shoved him against his shoulder, but wrapped your arm around his elbow after and muttered some sort of obscenity, which he only he laughed at.

“You’re very cute, you know that?”

You hid your face against his bicep as he chuckled again, the smile just never leaving his face today.

“Happiness looks really good on you Bucky,” you smiled up at him, tapping your fingers on his bicep.

“It looks even better on you,” he put down the cake on a table and turned to face you, “I mean, the scowl you had on your face when we met was terrifying!”

“Hey, I was having a bad moment. This scowl can come right back, hmm,” you pointed towards your face, trying to look angry.

“It doesn’t work, sorry doll,” he tapped on the bottom of your chin, lifting your head, “even you trying to look pissed is cute.”

A deep sigh left you, but you did feel yourself growing hot at his endless stream of compliments. After visiting Yori, you and Bucky had started spending even more time together, growing closer and closer by the minute.

“C’mon, Sam’s waiting,” he put his hands on your shoulders and steered you towards where Sam was sitting.

“This is like the first time I’m meeting an Avenger, this is so exciting,” you squealed and he let out a deep groan, pressing his thumbs a little harder on your shoulder blades.

“You’re going to give him an even bigger god-complex than he already has!”

“You’re just saying that because you’re not an Avenger,” you turned your head a bit backwards, checking his reaction.

“Psh, quiet you,” he shushed you as you finally arrived at the table where Sam and co were sitting.

“Ah, there they are!” Sam exclaimed and stood up to give Bucky a hug. They clapped each other on the back and said something to each other.

You were patiently waiting next to them, a little bit stressed at the prospect of meeting Sam.

“And you must be the infamous y/n, Bucky has said a lot about you,” Sam said when he let go of Bucky.

Bucky rolled his eyes, but you couldn’t miss the blush that was creeping up his neck as he looked away.

“Mr. Wilson, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you held out your hand as you were starstruck by the idea that Sam already knew about you.

“No, no. None of that here,” he pulled you into a tight hug, “and Sam please. Mr. Wilson makes me feel old.”

You let go, a little bit dazed that fucking Captain America hugged you. When Bucky stood next to you again, you gripped his lower arm and looked up at him, eyes big and a coy smile on your face.

“Stop fangirling,” he whispered, trying to not laugh at the expression on your face.

“Never,” you whispered right back, moving your face a bit closer to his before rapidly pulling away.

“Could I have a picture with you, Sam? I’m kind of a big fan.”

“You hear that Buck, your girl wants a picture with me, not you, me!” Sam exclaimed and pulled you under his arm.

Those words gave you a warm feeling, right inside the centre of your chest as you shot Bucky an awkward laugh. How was it even possible to feel this way about someone, even when nothing tangible was going on between the two of you?

“Smile!” Bucky called out, holding up his phone as you and Sam both put on your best smile.

“Thank you so much,” you gushed, still so in awe that you were standing next to a literal superhero.

“Don’t you want a picture with me then?” Bucky asked.

“We already have pictures together, silly,” you said as you took his phone to look at the picture.

“Ooh, these are so good Buck, thanks!” you forwarded the pictures to yourself. These were definitely going onto your fridge.

“But we only have selfies!” He pouted, “‘m sure Sam doesn’t mind snapping a few of us, right?”

Sam held out his hand to grab the phone, “let’s go, the sun is just setting.”

Bucky stretched out his arm around your shoulders as you wrapped on of yours around his waist. He looked down at you, securely squeezed against his side, and the pure happiness that was radiating off of you.

Sam started snapping pictures, just taking as many as he could.

Afterward a few hours, you were sitting next to Bucky at the picnic table eating dinner, “hey, let me look at the pictures, haven’t seen them yet.”

Bucky pulled out his phone again and slid it over to you, leaning a bit closer to you so he could see them too.

“Ooh, this is a cute one,” you softly said, looking at the picture where Bucky was looking at you with a soft smile on his face and you were laughing out loud at a stupid thing Sam said.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as you kept scrolling.

“Jesus, he took like 50 pictures of us.”

“At least we have some decent ones now,” he breathed out, hot air fanning into your face as you felt your insides make twenty flips.

You turned your face a little, noses almost touching as you looked at him out of the corners of your eyes. Whatever was going on between the two of you, it made you feel like you were on top of the world, able to conquer everything, as long as he was by your side.

“Yeah,” you softly smiled, feeling the last remains of the black hole disappear into nothing.

* * *

“Thanks for bringing me to see your friends,” you said as you fell down next to him on the couch that would be your makeshift bed for the night, “or should I say family?”

“They kinda are my family, aren’t they?” He snickered as he threw his arm over your shoulders and pulled you closer.

Tiredness had started to set in into both your bodies after a few hours of mingling, eating and dancing on the docks.

So many people had welcomed you with open arms, making the night so much better than you ever expected. They didn’t ask about anyone’s past, only what the plans for the future were. It felt like a second chance - a second try to feel alive again.

You nuzzled yourself further under his arm and grabbed the hand that was hanging over you to interlace your digits with his.

“Thanks for coming with me, it- it means a lot,” he whispered after pressing a kiss against your head.

“It’s good to see you happy,” you hummed, looking up at him now. He was already looking at you, a soft look in his eyes portraying just how much it did mean to him.

Your noses were almost touching for the second time this day, but now that you were alone in the dark living room it felt a hundred times more intimate and real.

The hand that was holding his over your shoulder, let loose and he whined at the loss of contact. It came up to cup his cheek instead, your thumb rubbing the slight scruff on his face as he shakily breathed in.

He finally nudged his nose against yours, his eyes falling closed as you enjoyed the feeling of the closeness, the warmth of his breath fanning over your face.

“I- can I-“ he trailed off, just a whisper that only you could hear.

You moved slightly forward, immediately answering his question as your lips finally pressed together.

It felt like a breath of fresh air, after being stuck in a stuffy room for way too long. It felt like coming home, his lips soft and warm and pressed against yours in a way you had never been kissed before.

It felt like nothing bad ever happened to you, like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall off, knowing he would be at the bottom waiting for you to fall right into his arms, right into him.

When you finally pulled back, both your hands were cradling his face, the moonlight illuminating his perfect face.

He pressed a kiss against your palm, before pulling you closer in his embrace, tugging you into him safely.

“I really, really like you,” you whispered, and you pressed a lingering kiss against the side of his neck inhaling his scent and closing your eyes.

“I really, really like you too,” he whispered right back, tugging a blanket over the both of you, settling down for the night, limbs entangled and heartstrings connecting both of your hearts to each other.

Week 34

“What the hell is this,” you whispered to yourself as you held the piece of clothing in front of you. You were redoing your bedroom, the room hadn’t changed since you moved in four years ago and it was overdue. A new bed frame was supposed to arrive tomorrow and you still had to clean out your room, pulling stuff from under the bed even.

This particular piece of clothing was a dark pair of pants, definitely Bucky’s. There were some papers sticking out of the back pockets, his signature scribblings standing out.

“Bucky?” You called out to your boyfriend in the living room. He was reading one of your books on the couch, patiently waiting until he could help disassemble your old bed frame.

“Can you come? I think this is yours?”

You heard him pad over to the bedroom, the fluffy socks on his feet showing a whole other side to the man he usually presented to the world.

“What’s mine?” his gravely voice reached your ears as he stood over you.

You handed him the notes and he immediately chuckled.

“Have you read them?” he said as he sat down next to where you were sitting on the floor, crossing his long legs and scanning through the pages.

You shook your head, “no, but they’re yours, right?”

He hummed a response as he read the words on the pages, written so many weeks ago, when so much was still different.

“Read it,” he handed the papers back, a lopsided grin on his face as he awaited your reaction.

“What is this about, now?” You murmured, not expecting an answer as you scanned the scrawly penmanship, a few words less readable where the paper was very creased.

The words came straight from his heart, poems written about you and what you had said to him. Small little doodles too, a cookie from when you had gone to the coffee shop, or a small drawing of your face, illuminated by the moon.

You looked up at him as he bit on his lower lip, crows feet next to his eyes as he glowed.

“You- you did all of this? Before we- we were even dating?” You stammered, as you put down the papers on the bed, the content in them too precious to leave on the floor.

He slowly nodded, pressing his lips together in a smile, “I-uh, I started getting these feelings for you, pretty early on actually and… I just didn’t know how to deal with them, so- so this was my way to get them out, to- to make them more tangible.

“And, I want you to know, just how much you mean to me. And how much you caring for me, changed me. For the better.”

He hesitated for a second, his eyes narrowing as he thought about what to say next, “uh, you said this thing, pretty early on - it, it was something about your heart being a black hole?”

You didn’t respond, only tilted your head as you wondered where he was going with this.

“I had a similar issue, but ever since I met you - this heavy feeling, it felt- it felt so much lighter instantly-“

You flung yourself around him, your arms around his neck as Bucky fell backwards onto the soft carpet, you on top of him.

You pressed a lingering kiss to his lips, trying to ignore the salty taste of the tears that were streaming down your face.

“Bucky,” you sniffled, pressing a string of kisses on his cheeks, jaw, forehead and nose, “you are, the most- the most precious person I have ever met.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist as you laid on the ground, the mess all around you the opposite of how you felt and the current situation you were in.

“I love you so much, “you croaked out, the tears lodged in your throat but the adoring gaze told a whole other story.

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck as he rubbed his hands over your back, “I love you.”

* * *

The pages from his notebook were the centre of the universe for you. Whenever you had a bad day, you went over to your desk and looked at the wall, where said pages were neatly hung in frames and helped you calm down. You could recite the word by heart by now, knew every curl of his handwriting and where every splotch of ink was.

And whenever you had a bad day, Bucky was right there next to you, arms wide open and the soft look of his eyes only reserved for you.

He was your soulmate and you were his. The black holes that used to be your hearts, were replaced by one big supernova, strings of colours intertwined with one another, endless, beautiful and forever.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Tomato - Tomato (one-shot)

Synopsis: One is an international rock-star. The other is his loyal assistant. Both are complete morons in love. Also - she’s allergic to tomatoes, and it is important.

This started off as something completely else. hope you enjoy :D

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Assistant!Reader

Genre: fluff, minor angst

Warnings: two idiots pining for one another, swearing, mentions of allergies and EpiPens

Word count: 3492

Being an assistant to someone famous wasn’t all glamourous parties and wild nights out with celebrities. It was scheduling last minute flights and not sleeping for three days straight as you packed a million bags and then repacked because their stylist sent you knew pieces and the old ones no longer fit the aesthetic of the week.           It was also making sure that they were up by six AM with a hot coffee at their bedside ready to help them wake up as you lay out a detailed plan of the day down to the minute, while you yourself basically only had a two-hour nap because you had to finish off 568 handwritten notes to be sent out to each of the contacts in their phone. Or at least that’s what Y/N’s life was like being the personal assistant to none other than the modern-day prince of rock Harry Styles.            Said rockstar was actually still asleep when Y/N entered his room, ripping open the curtains and letting in the rising sun. He groaned, pulling up the bedsheets that’d ridden down his form during the night. “Not that I don’t like seeing your gorgeous face in the mornings….” he mumbled into the covers. “But I don’t like seeing your face in the mornings when they start at six bloody AM.”           Y/N snorted and rolled her eyes, rubbing them in an attempt to get rid of the sleep that still lingered in her own body. “You were the one that said you’re fine with seeing Lambert at eight for a fitting.”           “When did I say that?” Harry scoffed, only the top of his messy bedhead seen from the cocoon he’d built around himself.           “Would you like me to pull up the text messages, the calendar or the e-mails?”           Even with her back turned as she rummaged through his closet for him to put on some clothes, she could sense the middle finger he threw at her, and she smiled.           Despite everything, despite the zero sleep and stress always coursing through her veins, Y/N loved working for him. He treated her as a friend, not just some lackey he paid to, but most importantly, comparatively to the other people she’d worked for in the same line of business – he treated her as a human.           If something went over the deadline, Harry didn’t scream or yell at her and tell Y/N how incompetent she was, instead he asked what kind of help or assistance she needed to get the job done, or maybe if she just needed some time off to gather herself and look at the problem with fresh eyes.           “I hate how organised you are,” Harry groaned, finally throwing the covers off.           “If I wasn’t, you’d be in a ditch somewhere.”           She heard him scoff and two feet plop against the hardwood floor as he made his way towards her. “Is that how little faith you have in me?”           “You don’t even know what day it is!”           “Who does in these times?”           Y/N shrugged her shoulders and handed him a pair of boxers, some loose jeans, and a flowery Hawaiian shirt. “Are you telling me I’m wrong though?”           She looked over to her side, a smirk playing on her lips while he squinted his green eyes at her. “No, but it doesn’t mean I like getting called out, especially this early in the morning.”

          With a roll of her eyes and a shove at his shoulder for him to move to the bathroom, Y/N handed him the clothes, moving downstairs to start making him some light breakfast and get herself a cold glass of water.           You see, she’d been working as his assistant for close to two years, and they’d grown not only as people around one another, challenging their beliefs and world views, but as friends too. And, well, Y/N would be lying if the emotions hadn’t evolved from platonic to falling in love. Not that she’d ever admit it. He was an international sensation, and she was the girl who got him vegetarian croissants at the airport.           She dragged a hand down her face as she clicked the stove on and took out a carton of eggs from the fridge. Y/N knew how he liked his omelette to the T, mostly because when she’d spent the first night of quarantine with him a year prior right as the pandemic had started, Harry had wanted to do something nice because she couldn’t go and see her family any more, so he’d gotten up at seven to make breakfast for both of them. The only problem was, he hadn’t asked if she had any allergies, so as he added bits of tomatoes, parsley, cheese and scallions, Harry hadn’t expected Y/N’s eyes to go wide at the first bite as she dropped the fork.           “Harry…” Her tone had been cautious. “What’s in this?”           He was sweating. Was his cooking really that bad? He just wanted to do something nice and there he was screwing everything up. “ ‘S just some of my favourite things. I’m sorry I didn’t ask, I just thought you’d like it.”            “I do, but this tastes like it has tomatoes in it.”           He nodded. “Yeah. It does.”           Gently she smiled at him and pushed the plate a bit further away. “Could you grab me a coat, and if you have any – an EpiPen?”           “An Epi – oh shit!” When the realisation hit him, Harry was jumping out of his seat, running to one of the cupboards and rummaging through in a panic all the while apologies flew non-stop from his mouth.           Y/N in the meantime had gathered her purse and mask, making a call to the nearest hospital to explain the situation to which they responded they’d be waiting for her arrival.           “I’m so sorry!” Harry ran up to her, a first-aid kit in his shaking hands. “Please don’t die! I didn’t want to kill you, I promise! I just wanted to make you some breakfast cause you do so much for me, and now you’re stuck here, and – oh god,” he cried. “I’m going to be prosecuted for killing my assistant.”           She didn’t mean to, but the snort came out of her nose either way. “Harry.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Please calm down. I’m not going to die.”           “You’re allergic!”           “Yes, I am, but I only had a small bite. The ER is just a precaution.” Y/N took his palms in hers and squeezed them. “Now take a deep breath with me…” They did so, holding it for five seconds and letting it out for eight. “And calm down a bit. I’ll go give myself the shot, and then I’ll drive to the hospital.”           “Let me,” Harry begged. “Please, let me at least drive you to the emergency room. God, I almost killed you with an omelette, it’s the least I can do. I – I could also help you with the shot, I won’t hit an artery, I promise -”           “Harry, you’re barely coherent. Not to say anything, but you’d have a bigger chance of killing me in a car crash, than from that tomato.” Y/N gave him a smile. “I’m gonna be fine.”           With that, she left him to venture into the bathroom and did the unpleasant part of stabbing herself in the thigh to alleviate her body from the allergy symptoms. She sat there for around five minutes before she felt that the swelling of her tongue and itching in her throat was starting to subside, which meant the epinephrine was working.           “Okay,” she huffed, taking her purse from the couch where Harry had been sitting, hugging the accessory. “I’ll be back in probably around two hours. Do we need anything from the store?”           He shook his head. “Just come back home, please.”           Y/N would never admit how her heart thundered in her chest when Harry said to come back ‘home’. “I will.” She promised. “Don’t you worry. You’re not getting rid of me that easy, Styles. The money’s too good.” She winked at him and then left Harry pouting on the couch, but she couldn’t get through the door, before he jumped up, yelling, “wait! Do I need to get rid of every tomato in the house?”           “No,” she laughed. “I’m good to be around them. Even touch them. ‘S just my insides that don’t agree with it when they meet.”           “Okay.” He nodded, hands on his hips. “Alright. I’ll uh – I’ll be waiting. I’ll make you something else.”           “There’s no need for that, Harry.”           His eyes widened at her words. “I swear I’m not trying to murder you!”           “Oh my god,” she muttered shaking her head. “Just – just relax. Okay. I’ll send you hourly updates.”           He bit his lip. “Make it every ten minutes.”           “Harry –,”           “Please?” The way he was giving her puppy dog eyes melted her heart.           With an eye-roll, Y/N waved at him and promised to update her boss at every possible moment and confirm that he hadn’t, in fact, been the reason for her demise. Well, he was the reason for the demise of her low standards in men, having taken them and thrown them up to the Moon, but unless her feelings were miraculously requited or if one of the Marvel characters, she was obsessed with came to life, she’d have to stick to what was available. And in her mind, that wasn’t Harry.           “What are you thinking about?” His voice startled Y/N out of the memory, and she shook her head, adding salt and pepper to the beaten eggs.           She shrugged. “Just about that time a year ago where you secretly tried to off me because you were too nice to say you didn’t wanna quarantine together.”           The groan he let out was of royal embarrassment, and it put a wide smile on her face, as she took one of the forsaken fruits and started to chop the red ball into small pieces.           “You’ll never let me live it down, are you?”           Y/N raised her eyebrow at him. “Your failed murder attempt?” She snorted. “Of course not! It’s like you don’t watch the crime shows and murder documentaries when I have them on. You really haven’t learned anything.”           Harry stuck his tongue out at her and moved to her side, dropping some chives into the mix as well. “Well given how it wasn’t a murder attempt, I wouldn’t consider it a fail.”           Her hip bumped his, and only then did Y/N really give him a once-over. As always, he looked amazing in whatever was on his body, but what made him even cuter in her eyes was the sleepiness still lingering in him.           Harry’s movements were a little bit sluggish, eyes half-closed and small sighs passing his lips as he sipped onto the coffee she’d come to his place with. The shirt sat loosely on his body, the first two buttons left open while he’d tucked the bottom of it into the jeans, having found a Gucci belt and cinched it around his waist, giving it a more eighties look rather than the sixties vibe he usually had with his suits.           The brown hair was still messy and dishevelled, and Y/N could barely, just barely restrain herself from running her fingers through it, but what she didn’t know Harry was struggling just as much.           All he wanted to do was pull out the bottom lip Y/N had gotten in between her teeth and kiss her senseless, to have her fingers dig into his arms and leave crescent shaped imprints on his skin.           “So, uh…” He had to start a conversation otherwise his mouth would find itself on Y/N’s mouth in a second. “What’s Lambert got in his schedule? How many outfits is he thinking?”           “Two or three, I think,” she said, pouring the mixture on the pan and letting the slow sizzle erupt around them. “He’s got this one suit which I think you’ll really like – all leather, but it needs to be altered.”           Harry hummed, and for a second both of them relished in the domestic feel of it all. They’d had many moments like it before, especially during the spring and summer seasons of 2020, and Y/N couldn’t help but relish in her memories at them.           “Harry?” It was like her voice snapped him out from a trance. “Could you pass me a plate please?’           “Uh, yeah,” he stammered for a moment and then nodded, wordlessly going to a cupboard and taking out a white marbled plate. That single piece of kitchenware probably cost more than her life insurance, but it was definitely aesthetic if nothing else.           Silently Y/N plopped the omelette onto the plate, placing it on the kitchen counter and went to get him a fork, however when she turned around, he was facing her, chewing quite agressively on the inside of his cheek.           “You okay?” she asked, coming closer. “I can call Lambert, reschedule it for later. He wouldn’t be too happy about having to wake up and then – “           But Harry shook his head. “It’s not that.”           “Then what?”           He didn’t say anything. It was like he was trying to decipher the best course of action, and when he ultimately did, Y/N was pressed up against the counter, Harry’s forehead against hers with two ring-clad hands cupping her cheeks.           “Harry,” she breathed, out her lips brushing his making the air in her lungs hitch. “What are you doing?”           “Something I’ve been dying to do for a year now. If you let me that is.”           “I -,” The words were muddled up in her head. Of course, Y/N wanted him to kiss her, she wanted him to ravish every part of her body. The fantasies and dreams she’d had at night would be incriminating proof if her feelings were on trial, but despite it all, her brain was usually in charge and would overrule any decision made by her heart. “Harry, we can’t.” She whispered, voice breaking.           “I -,” Horror morphed onto his features as he took a step back. “Did I misread the signals? Did I do something you don’t wan –“           “No.” She grabbed onto his cheeks, trying to calm him down, his body practically melting into hers. “I do.” She didn’t need to explain what she meant. He understood. “So much it hurts me sometimes… but Harry, you’re my boss. My employer. It… it wouldn’t be right.”           “Why? How can it not be right, when it feels like the rightest thing in the world?”           “Because, Harry,” she huffed. “You’re my boss. And what’s worse – I love working for you!”           That made both of them laugh, the tone of her voice as if she was more annoyed than anything else. “ ‘Nd why’s that bad?” He nudged her nose with his. “I’d hope my employees like working with me. What kind of a person would I be if I thrived on them being miserable?”           “Because if I didn’t, quitting would be easy.” She raised her eyebrow at him. “And if I quit there’d be nothing stopping us from dating.”           Harry bit his lip, finger trailing along her cheekbone. “There’s nothing stopping us now either. There is no clause in your contract that says you can’t date people who you work for or with. Sarah’s with Mitch, and they’re the happiest they’ve ever been. They’re even having a baby…”           Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile. “I know. But that’s different. They’re on equal levels. You and I, however… I don’t want people to think I got my job because I slept with you, or some shit. It’s bad enough some already do so.”           His brows furrowed, and Y/N saw how his jaw clenched. “Who?”           “Strangers.” She shrugged. “I know you don’t look at comments like that online, but I see them. My DMs are filled with that. Gossip magazines. The point is – there are already unsubstantiated rumours about us. This would give them the confirmation they’d need.”           “How can it confirm something that’s not true?”           “There are still people who believe vaccines cause autism. Even when their ‘proof’ has been discredited and shown to be just complete bullshit, most don’t like to admit they’re wrong, so they’ll look for whatever tells them they’re right.”           Harry huffed throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. “So, where does that leave us? In love, but without being able to do anything about it? Because I can’t.” He shook his head. “I won’t be able to just pass you by without kissing you, or not pull you into the bed when you wake me up, or press you against the wall and not have my head between these two gorgeous legs.”           Y/N groaned slapping his chest and dropping her forehead against his peck. “That is so unfair. Why do you have to tease me like that!”           “Oh, sweetheart.” The rumble was deep and shot a wave of heat straight to her core. “This is no teasing.” The smirk on his face when she looked up at him was shit-eating. “Trust me, if I was teasing, you’d be begging for me.”           She’d imagined him between her thighs more times than it was appropriate considering he was her boss, but hot damn, did it feel amazing when his lips crashed onto hers, and she let him. In her dreams, his lips hadn’t been just pressed to her mouth but other places which were more south, but it was still one of the best feelings in the world.           The kiss left them both breathless, and grinning and satisfied, yet begging for more, teeth nipping at the soft flesh.           “I’ll put out an official statement, if you want,” Harry muttered against her mouth, unable to stop pecking her lips now that’d he’d gotten a taste. “But please, please, please… for both our sanities go out on a date with me.”           It seemed like Y/N was the one contemplating the best plan of action now when her brows furrowed and she looked up at him, pressing and unpressing her lips, as the swelling from the kiss grew. “Did you by any chance have a piece of that omelette already?” She had a suspicion it wasn’t just from the kiss.           His eyes widened, and then his head dropped to her shoulder. “Not again!”           Y/N rolled her eyes lifting his face by the chin so he would look at her. “How about EpiPen first?”           “Fair enough,” Harry grumbled unlatching himself from her and going for his keys and wallet, already preparing for the short drive they’d have to take. “But then a date?”           She raised her eyebrow, taking out the box Harry now kept under the sink with at least three EpiPen’s for emergencies. “In a hospital?”           “We could be going dumpster diving for all I care, and I’d count it as a date.”           Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to do so much better than that; you’ve almost put me in anaphylactic shock twice. Now come on.” She motioned with her head towards the bathroom. “Stab me and take me to the ER.”           “Fucking tomatoes,” Harry grumbled, taking her by the hand and not letting it go even for the short walk.           “Tomato-tomato, you’re the one that kissed me.”           “That I don’t regret.”           Y/N smiled, turning towards him, and taking him by the nape of his neck pulled Harry down for one more kiss, groaning at the feeling of his tongue dancing against hers.           “Y/N!” He pulled back with a gasp, shock on his face.           She just shrugged her shoulders. “We’re already going to see the doctors anyway.”           Harry pushed her shoulder and made her sit down onto the toilet. “Take your pants off before my kisses kill you.”           “Yes, daddy.” Y/N wiggled her eyebrows as Harry moaned, squeezing her calf.            His eyes were dark as he looked up at her. “Next time this happens, you’ll be begging me.”           Her wicked smile was so full of happiness he couldn’t help the one that grew on his face. “I’ll be keeping you to it. Now, dear sir.” She handed him the EpiPen. “Hit me with your best shot.”           And although it’d been now two times in their lives where Harry trying to do something good and make the other feel just as good had done pretty much the opposite, when they got to the emergency room, their smiles could be felt even under their masks           Harry watched with blushing cheeks as Y/N explained the situation to the nurse, especially when one of them threw him an unsavoury glance, eyebrow raised high as if saying ‘again? One time wasn’t enough?’.           “No more tomatoes.” He promised. “And also - it wasn’t on purpose!”           Y/N squeezed his palm, chuckling. She may not be able to give a shot at eating a tomato, but she sure as hell was going to give Harry one. After all, she had almost died for the man. Twice.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Harry Styles tags: @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​ @raylovessarcasm @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @harryhub​

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

A/N: I’m at work and I wanted to write a bit for my book, but hahahahahahaha I can’t stop procrastinating. Also, this was something comepletely else centered around Christmas, then New Year and the Valentines, but I just couldn’t and it morphed into this. Maybe this Holiday season when it rolls around I’ll post it :D

P.S. if anyone’s had a septoplasty (repositioning of the septum) - how was it? how painful is it? kinda starting my journey towards it cause apparently I can’t breathe out of my left nostril, but I’m kinda scared ngl. I’ve read some horror stories about having holes and pieces of the cartilage fall out afterwards :/// 

P.S.S. what did ya think? my tags are always open, just drop a message if you wanna be added :)

P.S.S.S please don’t plagiarise or repost my work on other platforms (wattpad, AO3 etc)

[lazypeachsoul]

I wouldn't want to spend a minute lovin' anybody else.

Warnings: this fic has some sad moments and mentions of the blip. also kind of AU because I'm completely ignoring Natasha's canon end.

Word count: 4,2k (i got very carried away with this fic)

Summary: · Meeting the right person at the wrong time can be life changing when it doesn’t work out the way we desire. But if it's meant to be it will always happen, right?

A/N: This is my fic for the "Women of Marvel xReader Exchange" created by @marvelxreaderfanfictionfest . It was created for @im-holding-ontoyou and I hope you like it! gif by @natasharomanovgifs 🌼 ALSO; i haven't watched Black Widow yet so I'm sorry if something in this fic doesn't fit the new info we got about natasha.

Masterlist.

To be added to my taglist use this forms or write me an ask!

New York, 2015.

When you received the call from one of your bosses that you had a new case you would have never imagined how big that case would turn out to be.

You had been working for one of the most important law firms in New York for a year now, and you were getting kind of used to reading cases that would be narrated in the papers for months. Rich and entitled men, big divorces were they fight over who gets the yacht, one or two murder cases... if it revolved around the powerful people of New York city, your firm would get it.

When you got to the debriefing and were told that Tony Stark, one of the firm's most important clients, asked your team for assistance in the creation of some legislation with the newly created “Advanced Threat Containment Unit” you were more than surprised.

The events that the Avengers had caused (or saved us from, there were different opinions going around) in the small country of Sokovia were known all around the and it was only time before the most powerful officials asked for the regulation of ‘superhero activity’.

You weren’t important enough to actually attend the meetings that took place with the government, seeing as you had only passed your bar exam a little over a year prior, but you were deemed cheerful and nice enough to act as a nexus between the firm and the client.

For months you spent your days talking to Tony Stark and other members of The Avengers trying to explain what was being talked about. The first few meetings were a disaster, seeing as the mood was somber for the lives lost and nobody really understood your legal jargon. But slowly you started to transform your language and really tried to make the meetings as easy as possible for everyone present.

But who were you kidding, they really didn’t care about the meetings or the silly attorney being sent to explain something that was way above their paycheck. Well, at least Stark was gracious enough to set a coffee station with some pastries for the meeting. You were pouring the hot liquid into your to-go cup when your hand jerked and the hot liquid splashed your hand.

You could feel the sting of the burn but avoided further sudden movements trying not to make it worse. Before you could reach for a napkin to clean up the mess you made, a more dexterous and manicured hand reached for them and exchanged the hot cup in your hand for the bunch of papers.

“Careful, Stark always serves boiling coffee. I think it’s to mask that it’s not the best quality.”

You lifted your gaze from your hand and found a pair of deep green eyes gazing back. You would have thought that spending numerous meetings in the company of superheroes would make you less susceptible to their powerful auras, but being this close to Natasha Romanoff made your heart beat a bit faster.

“Yeah, I found out the hard way.” You joked, lifting your hand a bit. “You would guess one of the richest people in the world would actually serve good coffee...”

Seeing her crack a smile made you feel less tense. Sometimes you forget they are still normal people. Normal people who could kill you with their bare hands and had superhuman powers. She placed your cup on the food table, apparently not bothered by how hot it must have been, and pushed her hand in your direction.

“I’m Natasha Romanoff.” You wrapped your hand around hers and shook it, biting your tongue trying not to tell her of course you knew her name. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself in earlier meetings, we were all trying to come to terms with what had happened.”

“No worries, I can only imagine how hard it must have been for all of you.” You nodded and tried to show her sympathy, trying to avoid thinking about all the lives affected by the fight. “Oh sorry, I’m-”

Natasha quickly cut you off, speaking your name before you could even say it. You could feel your cheeks get warmer at the idea that they actually knew who you were, and she probably could sense your mood change because she quickly explained.

“I know who you are, you send us at least two emails a week about these meetings and FRIDAY always announces you before you arrive.”

“Who announces me?” You asked curiously at the mention of a name you recognized.

“FRIDAY. It’s the name of Stark’s AI technology. It works all around the tower and it’s there to make life easier for everyone.” She explained pointing around at the speakers strategically placed around the room.

“Oh, I get emails from Friday sometimes. Most of them are asking me to translate or explain something about the debriefing because Mr.Stark is not interested in legal terms.” Both you and Natasha laughed at the thought.

But she quickly recomposed and tried to look serious again when she heard her teammates coming in to get ready for the meeting.

“I wanted to ask you about that. Do you think we could schedule a meeting so that you could explain some things about the legislation of the A.T.C.U.?” She spoke lower than she had when the two of you were alone and you wondered why she didn’t want her colleagues to know about the meeting.

“Ye-Yeah, of course I can.” You were confused but thought it would be in your best interest, and the firm’s, to say yes to the proposal. And a meeting with a very attractive and definitely interesting woman was not something that happened constantly for you.

“Great, thank you.” She smiled warmly and squeezed your hand that you hadn’t even realized was still wrapped around hers from the introduction. “I can promise you better coffee.”

You could only hum in response, still trying to piece together what she might want from the meeting. But your thoughts were quickly cut off when Stark entered the room and you moved to start the reunion.

During the entire meeting you could feel the dull pain in your hand from the scorching coffee and the feeling of a pair of green eyes watching your every move.

Vienna, 2016.

The situation had only gone downhill from the Battle of Sokovia. The public’s opinion on the Avengers was at an all-time-low and that made terrorist groups bold. They knew that if they struck and caused enough chaos, the blame would fall on the good guys that tried to stop them.

The only thing that seemed to be a stable thing in your life was Natasha. Well, as stable as dating a superhero might be. She was busy a lot, but you understood the importance of her job and you were quite busy too gaining importance within the law firm.

And even if sometimes terrorists and criminals got in the way you still found a moment to spend together, wrapped around each other without having to think about how messed up life was.

You thought Lagos was the blow that would make everything tumble, the Sokovia accords were unveiled and it broke the Avengers, and your girlfriend. You could feel how torn she was at her decision of some of her friends to oppose the signing and go on the run, and her own decision to subordinate to the United Nations mandate. But you realized how small that had been when king T’Chaka was killed at the UN.

You had been at the UN as part of the USA legal team that participated in the writing and monitoring of the accords. Your participation in the negotiations almost broke your relationship but you were able to recover once you explained your position and Natasha actually came to an understanding of it.

Natasha was also in Vienna when everything went down, you hadn’t managed to properly see her because she was one of the signers and they sat at the assembly while other guests sat at the amphitheater watching the retransmission.

You hadn’t been able to properly see her all day, seeing as she took a detour before flying to Austria. You were only able to communicate through texts where you tried to make the situation more comfortable for her and she promised a peaceful european trip to celebrate the signing.

When the bomb went off and all hell broke loose the first thing you tried to do was look for her, she was at the epicenter of the explosion and you just wanted to see if she was okay. You saw her from afar when you were being pushed to the outside of the building while they swiped the perimeter.

She sat with T’Challa before he jumped from the bench and stomped away. Natasha looked around and your gazes crossed, immediately melting away some of the worry. You tried to push your way through the crowd to get to her, but police and security didn’t budge.

You never took your eyes off of her, scared that if you did she would disappear. But she did move her gaze to her phone and the look that crossed her face when she heard the voice at the other side told you it was a very important call.

Once the call was over and she looked at you again you knew that would probably be the last time you would see her in some time. You hadn’t known Natasha as long as some of her colleagues had, but you could proudly say you could understand what she wanted to say with just a look. And the look on her face in that moment read close to a goodbye.

New York, 2018.

It had been two years since the fall of Helmut Zemo and part of the Avengers was still on the run. And it maybe wouldn’t have had that big of an impact on you if it wasn’t because Natasha had also been on the run for that long.

You had heard about what happened at the Leipzig airport and how Natasha had changed alliances to join Captain America’s fight. You had been heartbroken at the news knowing that any resemblance of normality that you still hope for was destroyed.

You had spent months wondering what had made her change her mind. Had she thought about your conversations about the accords? Had she even remembered you, waiting for her back in New York, when she decided to go on the run?

A part of you tried to convince you of how selfish thinking about that was, why would she think about you when the future of her team and friends was at stake? But also you were her girlfriend, she should have thought about the implications that might have had for you.

In those years you had mourned your relationship and after the grieving period you tried to rebuild your life. New friends, a new position and new chances to take. And it went okay...at least until someone opened their mouth to talk about superheroes or The Avengers. Years down the line and it was still on people’s minds.

On special occasions you would receive anonymous gifts at your office or your apartment. The first birthday after the war you sobbed for fifteen minutes when you saw the bunch of flowers. There was no name or indicative of who might have sent them, that was until you looked better at the card and saw the small red hourglass painted in the corner.

The gifts continued. Every case you won, promotion, birthday or holiday a bunch of flowers would be delivered to you with the same note.

In a way it gave you a sense of peace knowing she was okay and still thought of you. But the more you thought about it the angrier you got at how she had left you.

You didn’t expect a message from your boss to run to the Avengers compound and assess some situation between Coronel Rhodes and Thaddeus Ross. Although the team had crumbled, your company was still hired to legally represent the remaining members and moderate situations that might arise with the government.

You entered the compound expecting another bureaucratic complaint about their activity but you found a trickier situation. The meeting room was filled with people you thought you would never see again.

Captain Rogers was sitting on one of the chairs sporting a new look that made you almost not recognize him and a tense demeanor. Next to him was Sam Wilson, looking around at the smallest of movements and trying to assess the situation. Wanda Maximoff was standing on the furthest corner of the room playing with her rings, meanwhile Vision was apparently being checked out for a wound. What kind of wounds a synthezoid could get was beyond your understanding.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, I might have angered Secretary Ross during a meeting.” Rhodey came up to you with a nervous smile.

You had gotten closer to him thanks to your job seeing as he was the one doing the dirty superhero work.

“Yeah, I got that much from the text. Nothing new then.” You tried to joke to diffuse the tension in the room. “It would have been nice to know you had guests though.”

“We are not guests. Last time I checked this was our home too.”

That voice made your blood freeze. You should have expected her there, all her friends had returned and the chance of her being back too was almost 100%. But hearing her voice again after two years was not something you expected.

You bit your tongue before you could talk about how it’s not a home if you abandon it, but decided against it. This was a fight between them, not Natasha and you.

“I need you to work with the government to avoid this situation becoming a disaster.” Rhodey explained and you scoffed.

“Rhodey, I’m a lawyer not a politician. I have as much power in this as you might have.” You tried to lay your point across but it was difficult with all eyes on the interaction. “Hell, I have even less power than you do.”

“Then I need you to distract them enough to get them off our shoulders.” He pressed. “Something big is coming and we need all the strength we can get.”

You thought about it for a moment. If it was true that something big was coming, the Avengers were the best option to fight it.

“I’m in.” You scoffed at his smile and sat down in one of the chairs of the meeting room. “I’m not ready for the world to end yet.”

The meeting went on for a while. You called bosses, government officials and everyone that would listen to your distractions. You sent emails that would flood their inboxes for days so that they couldn’t read any news that might reach them about what the superheroes had in mind.

It was late at night when a cup of steaming liquid was placed next to you. You looked at it and saw that it was some kind of herbal tea, probably made to relax the drinker. You followed the hand that was still holding the mug until you reached Natasha’s face.

You had done your best to ignore her looming presence in the room but now there was no distraction. Looking at her you could see tiredness in her face. She was platinum blonde now, a look that weirdly suited her, but her face still looked as welcoming to you as it always did.

You tried to stop the flashbacks to the last time you saw it in person in Vienna, but they kept replaying in your head until her voice broke you out of the loop.

“I thought you might need it, I remember how nervous calls used to make you.”

She was smiling but you could tell it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Yeah, I guess I got over it since I got my promotion. Now I spend a long portion of my day making calls.”

She hummed and sat down next two you, but leaving a chair in between you as a safe space.

“I read about it in an article, I sent you flowers to celebrate.”

“I got them. And the Christmas ones. On my birthday too.” You enumerated the times you had gotten the plants in the past two years. “You must have spent an awful amount of money buying me so many flowers.”

“You deserved it, you still do.” She shrugged and that’s when you noticed she had her own mug of warm tea in her other hand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to celebrate with you.”

You laughed into your mug sarcastically. Out of everything you expected her to say this wasn’t one of them.

“Did you really? Because you didn’t seem to consider me much when you went on the run for two years.”

Natasha paled when she heard your tone. She probably wasn’t used to situations like these but you weren’t going to let her go without an apology at least.

“I was trying to do the best for-”

“-for the world. I get it, Natasha, I do.” You tried to contain your emotions but it was getting harder with every word. “Relationships are supposed to be teamwork. I know you are always too busy playing heroes and I never judged you for that, I just wish you would have trusted me enough to tell me before you disappeared.”

She was silent and knowing Natasha it’s because she was probably overwhelmed with the display of feelings. But she needed to hear how bad you had felt.

After minutes of waiting for an answer from her and getting nothing but sighs you shook your head and looked back at the computer screen.

“I guess it was a case of the right person, wrong time.” You shrugged trying to find distraction in the flurry of letters in your email inbox. “Or at least it was for me.”

She got up from her seat without a word and you grew exasperated. Why had she even approached you if then she wasn’t willing to have an adult, two sided conversation? She was almost at the door when you heard her voice again.

“Please never doubt how much I love you. I made some bad choices but dating you was not one of them.”

New York, 2024.

Time apparently flies by when you are erased from the face of the earth. One day you are in your office working late and the next you appear five years in the future with no recollection of what might have happened.

You were taken by authorities to impromptu camps and one by one examined to check your identities. The entire thing seemed to be something out of one of the dystopian novels you used to read as a teenager.

When it was your turn you gave them all the information you had on what had happened. You had given them your name and personal information and apparently had been a very searched person because the computer started beeping as soon as your name was introduced in the database.

You were moved to a secluded part of the camp and kept in an isolated room for god knows how long. Your stomach was in knots during the entire situation and you could feel the cold sweat on you. That mixed with the metallic taste on your tongue you knew this time your anxiety was justified. You were almost dizzy because of how hard you were thinking about the entire situation and trying to make sense of it.

When you heard the door of the room open you jumped up, discarding on the floor a makeshift blanket that had been placed on your shoulders when you got there. Your legs almost gave out at the movement and your heart felt like it was going to burst out.

The door opened enough for you to see who had been searching for you. Natasha stepped through the door still dressed in her tactic gear and with tiredness written all over her face. But that feeling seemed to almost disappear when she finally saw you.

With quick movements she stepped into the room and wrapped her arms around you tightly. For some reason that action was the trigger that you needed to let all your emotions consume you.

You started sobbing uncontrollably at the unknown. You didn’t understand what happened or how you are here, but feeling her embrace helped you feel safe in a way. It had been years since you last hugged her but it still felt as good as back in 2015.

You could hear Natasha’s soothing shushes in between your sobs and you moved to hold her tighter.

“You are here. I can’t believe I found you again.” She spoke softly and you didn’t know if she was speaking to you or herself. “It’s okay darling. I’m here and I’m not letting you go again. I promise.”

And with that promise a ray of hope made way between all the fear you felt.

Missouri, 2025.

Soft music could be heard all around the ground floor of the house. The soft beat was upbeat enough to get the morning started but not enough to be overwhelming if you had just woken up. You were sitting on the kitchen island looking at the news on your phone and having breakfast.

Mornings were usually very calm around the homestead and you couldn’ be more thankful for that. It allowed you to silently prepare your breakfast and coffee and get a headstart on Natasha’s breakfast too.

Since she had retired, Natasha had discovered a newfound love for sleeping in and you didn’t dare to take that away from her. She deserved it from all the work she had done in her life.

You, meanwhile, tried to get up early to scroll through the cases that you got in your new and smaller job and schedule meetings or emails.

It was a Saturday so work wasn’t a thing and you could actually enjoy your toast and coffee in peace. Or at least until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your middle and pulled you back against Natasha.

“Good morning baby, how did you sleep?”

“Like a baby.” You could feel her smile when she kissed your cheek from behind. “You weren’t there when I woke up though.”

You shrugged before moving to get a bite out of your toast. Natasha tried to do the same but you quickly moved it away from her with a smile. She tried again and you moved as fast as your reflexes allowed you.

“C’mon baby, give me a bite” “No, it’s my toast. You can make your own.” “But it tastes better when you make it.” “No it doesn’t, don’t be lazy.”

The playful fight continued for a few moments until she got close enough to get a small bit but you moved it again.

“Don’t make me bite you, darling.”

You chuckled at her threat and plopped the remaining toast on the plate in front of you. Breakfast didn’t matter much anymore. You threw yourself into her arms and pressed your lips against hers. It wasn’t a slow and sensual kiss, it was closer to how small kids smooch their parents. But you knew it would convey your love more deeply.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Nat.” You spoke against her lips and squaked when you felt her playfully nip at your bottom lip.

“Is now a good time?”

That question had become recurring in your household, a nod to the phrase you said when you found eachother again after being separated the first time.

“I couldn’t think of a more perfect time.”

And you couldn’t. The rest of your life spent in a homestead with your girlfriend and whatever life might bring? It sounded absolutely delightful.

Taglist: @tagehaya @flyforeverfree @rooskaya-yelena @evalynanne @insanitybyanothername @princessayveke @yelenabelovasgf @kyli314

[nothinghcppens]

small talk- pietro maximoff

part 2

part 1 here

masterlist

pair: pietro maximoff x female!reader

summary: after being apart of the team of super soldiers that hydra experimented on, y/n was one of the successful experiments and had been released to the world. the winter soldier and the siren had become the most prolific assassin duo in the world. but what happens when they get taken in by the avengers? what happens when she meets a particularly fast superhero with an attitude?

warnings: swearing, mentions of trauma, alcohol, kissing but like only that, minor sexual jokes

a/n: hi !! i just wanted to say thank you so much for all the love and support of part 1 of small talk and bad liar omg <3 i also wanted to add a taglist to future fics so let me know if you want added it! make sure to specify if you want to be added to the marvel or the harry potter one bc i have a harry potter fic in the works rn! also i’m gonna write a part three that’s just cute bc i want to keep writing this character heheh

“wake up!” splash.

the feeling of cold water hitting your face shocked you awake and you sat up with a gasp. trails of blue flashed from beside your bed and out the door, the clang of a bucket hitting the floor. “pietro maximoff. i am going to kill your speedy ass!” you shouted, jumping out of bed. not even caring that you were only in a t-shirt and shorts, you chased after him, following the blue light.

the trails stopped eventually, and so did you. you glanced around, listening for any sign of him. you crept over to one of the couches and grabbed a pillow as a weapon. “where are you?” you called, i’m a sing-song voice.

you walked around the room, “come on, don’t hide from me now.” the faint sound of his breathing was heard along with the dripping water from your hair and t-shirt. you followed the sound of his shallow breaths to the island in the kitchen. you dropped the pillow, climbed up on the island and crawled across it before swung your head over the edge, in front of his. “hey there.

he gasped, “shit.” you flipped your hair back up and sat back on your knees. pietro stood up and turned to face you before bursting into fits of laughter.

“i don’t know what’s funny.” you mumbled, glaring up at him.

“yes you do, you look ridiculous.” he huffed between laughs.

“i won’t look ridiculous when i’m putting a bullet through your head.” you spat.

“calm down, love. it’s only a bit of fun.” he said.

“i was sleeping piet!” you protested. you moved your legs so that they were dangling off the edge.

“okay, i’m sorry. i’m sorry!”

“you better be. i’ll get you back though.”

he stepped forward and leaned his hands on the island, on either side of you. “will you, yeah?”

his head was an inch away from yours, you could feel his breath against your face. you saw his eyes drift from your eyes to your lips and back up again. he leaned in slightly and your breathing quickened. “what’re you doing?” you whispered.

“what do you think i’m doing?” he replied in the same hushed tone.

“something you should’ve done a long time ago.” you leaned in towards him, lips almost touching.

“good morning!” cap announced, walking into the kitchen, looking at his phone. you two broke apart quickly, pietro speeding and grabbing you a glass of orange juice and ten occupying himself by looking at something in the cupboard.

“hey cap.” you croaked, voice uneasy from the nerves coursing through your body. “morning steve.” pietro greeted, closing the cupboard and standing next to you on the counter. steve didn’t look up from his phone and didn’t notice your wet hair and clothes

“how’s our newest recruit?” he asked as he grabbed a mug from one of the shelves.

“steve, i’ve been here for like 6 months!” you complained.

he put the mug in the coffee machine and pressed a few buttons, “and? you’re still the newest.”

“might be the newest but i could still take you down old man.”

“don’t get too cocky kid, i think pietro’s rubbing off on you.”

“ew i’d rather go back to being tortured than be like him.” you joked.

“how dare you! you know you love being around me.”

you made fake gagging noise and steve let out a laugh. he finally turned around and looked at you two for the first time this morning.

“oh- uh y/n? what happened, why are you soaked?” he asked, averting his eyes from you. your eyes widened in realisation that you were wearing little-to-nothing in front of your captain and your t-shirt was clinging to your body.

“pietro is a dick is what happened.” you said, pushing yourself off the table. “if you’ll excuse me, i’ll go make myself decent.”

“you look decent all the time, love!” pietro called after you as you began to leave the kitchen. you swivelled round and flipped him off with both hands before leaving the room.

———

“do you remember when-“ you let out a giggle and pointed at bucky, “when we had to kill those french agents and you-“ another laugh, “you fell over a wall! god i mean because my brain was mush i couldn’t laugh but looking back on it that shit was hilarious!”

you and the team were recalling old missions gone wrong, with the assistance of alcohol obviously, and you were telling a story about you and bucky- much to his dismay.

“i didn’t fall.” he protested, taking a swig from the bottom of beer in his hand.

“so what happened then? did the sidewalk just crumble?” you questioned, laughing loudly. the rest of the team sat observing the interaction, large smiles across all their face. pietro sat to your left with his arm around your shoulder, a drink in his other hand.

“okay. maybe i did fall.” bucky mumbled causing a roar of laughter from everyone. “but, remember how we were running through a forest in, where was it again?-“

“bulgaria.” you said, already knowing where this was going.

“bulgaria! yes. and it was raining so it was super muddy and you got suck in the mud!” he laughed.

“you left me there! i had to drag myself out.” you complained.

“well we had a mission to complete! you would’ve done the same.”

you rolled your eyes, “you’re right. i would have.” you felt pietro laugh from beside you and you smiled at him. “time for a refill.” you announced, pushing yourself up off the sofa. you wandered to the kitchen and took the bottle of wine on the table and poured some into your glass. due to the alcohol already in your system you spilled a little on the counter, “shit.” you muttered.

“need some help there?” pietro asked.

“i can pour wine myself thank you very much.” you retorted.

“i think the table disagrees.” he chuckled.

“shut up.” you groaned. pietro sped from the door to grab a towel and stopped behind you. he reached over your shoulder and wiped the spilled wine up. his breath was hot against your neck. you turned around, wine glass in hand, and looked up into his eyes. his hands remained on either side of you.

“this is the second time we’ve ended up here.” he mumbled.

“good observation, captain obvious.” you teased. pietro rolled his eyes and huffed out a laugh.

pietro took his right hand and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, staring into your eyes. he kept his hand on the side of your head and leant in slightly for the second time in the past week. your breathing deepened and your heart was thumping against your chest. you tilted your head up towards his head and your lips were almost touching, just as they were a few days ago

“y/n! can you get me a whiskey before you come back?!” tony called from the other room.

pietro groaned in frustration and pulled away from you, tilting his head up. “i’m going to kill those avengers.”

“good luck with that speedy.” you said, tapping his chest lightly.

he stepped away from you, letting you leave his embrace to get tony a drink. after pouring him a glass of whiskey and grabbing your glass of wine, you and pietro entered the room filled with your team. his hand was placed in the small of your back, guiding you back to the sofa.

you handed tony his drink and he smiled at you, “thanks kid.”

pietro sat on the couch and you flopped down beside him, his arm resuming its place of around your shoulder. you swung your legs up and across pietro’s legs, earning a few looks from nat and clint. they looked at each other and raised their eyebrows with a smirk.

steve and bucky were telling a story of a party they went to in the 40s and how bucky had to drag him to dance with these girls they met. you took a sip of your drink and noticed pietro’s eyes glancing at your lips, “want a sip?” you asked, smirking because you knew that’s not what he was looking at.

he pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek and sighed, “watch it, y/l/n.”

“oooooooh we’re on last name terms now?” you teased, smiling.

“yeah if you keep pissing me off we will be.”

“don’t be so easy to piss off.” you replied.

he leaned over and whispered in your ear, “cant help it. i’m frustrated.”

you pushed out your bottom lip in an overdramatic pout, “boohoo.”

tony then shot forward in his seat and clapped his hands together, “tomorrow you two,” he said, pointing at you and bucky, “are gonna have a little fashion show, i’ve been working on some suits for you guys and i need your input.”

“wait really?” you asked.

“yup. i’m not having you two going on missions in your hydra gear.” he explained.

“shit, thanks tony.” bucky replied.

“where’s my suit?” pietro questioned.

“you’ll get on eventually. your girlfriend is just a little more improtant.”

“i was here first.” he protested.

“girlfriend?” you asked at the same time.

“wait your turn, turbo.” tony said.

pietro scoffed and everyone laughed at the interaction.

nat stretched her arms behind her head and yawned, “alright losers, i’m going to bed.”

“yeah, me too.” clint added.

eventually everyone had made their way upstairs and all that was left was you, tony and pietro.

“okay. what’s going on here?” tony asked, wagging his finger between you guys. pietro’s hand was now resting on your leg which was still across his.

“nothing.” you said.

“uh huh? yeah that bullshit doesn’t work on me kiddo.”

“piet, sure nothing has happened.” you glanced at him and a look of annoyance crossed his face.

“yeah stark. nothings happened.” he replied through gritted teeth.

“well if anything does happen, stay safe.” he winked at you two, “and if you hurt her, speedy, she’ll probably hurt you back worse.”

you laughed, “hell yeah i will.”

“oh i know you will.”

“goodnight .” tony said as he stood up from his chair and left the room.

you swung your legs off pietro and stood up, “well goodnight piet.” a smirk grew across your face as you began to walk away.

“nope.” he stated, grabbing your wrist and turning you back around. he pulled you onto his lap so you were straddling him, legs on either side of him. he placed his hand on the back of your neck and pulled your head towards his before crashing your lips onto his.

the kiss was heated, after being denied it twice before. your hands moved from his shoulders to the back of his neck and his moved to your waist. his fingers dug into your hips causing you to moan slightly, he took this opportunity to intertwine his tongue with yours.

eventually you broke apart, both gasping for air. you placed your forehead against his and closed your eyes.

“you don’t understand how long i’ve wanted to do that.” he muttered.

“worth it?” you asked, teasing him.

“nope.” he joked.

you leaned back and glared at him, “you bitch.” you leaned in and kissed him again, running your fingers through his hair and pulling it slightly. he groaned against your lips and you smiled through the kiss, enjoying the effect you had on him.

pulling away for the second time, you both had content smiles on your faces. you leaned your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes, “you’re comfortable.”

he let out a hearty laugh, “thank you?”

“it’s a compliment, i could sit here forever.”

suddenly you were no long sitting on top of him, you were being picked up and whisked through the building. your hair blew around until you stopped and were in your room. “what just happened?”

“i’m tired and the couch didn’t seem good to sleep on.” he explained.

“woah, woah, woah. who said you’re sleeping in my room?”

“i did.” he stated. using his powers he stripped himself down to his underwear and jumped on your bed, under the covers.

“i regret kissing you. you’re a pain in the ass.” you complained.

“and you called me a bitch?!” he exclaimed.

you rolled your eyes and grabbed your pyjamas that were at the foot of your bed and walked to your bathroom.

“where are you going?” he asked.

“getting changed, i don’t want you watching.”

you closed the door to block out his protests and quickly got ready for bed.

“hurry up.” pietro called.

“stop complaining or i’m going to sleep on the couch.” you replied, opening the door and leaning against the doorframe. pietro was sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes raked over your body and a small smirk grew on his face. “eyes up here pretty boy.”

he laughed and pulled back the cover before patting the spot next to him, signalling for you to join him. you shuffled over and slid into the bed. pietro wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

“so much for the whole tough super soldier act, you’re a softie at heart, aren’t you love?” he muttered in your ear.

“anymore of that and i’ll suffocate you in your sleep with this pillow.” you replied, closing your eyes and relaxed into his embrace.

“no you won’t. you’re too soft.” he teased.

“pietro. i’m warning you.” you yawned, “i don’t care how good looking you are i will kill you.”

“good looking huh?”

“fuck off and go to sleep.” you spat.

“sweet dreams, y/n.” he said with a small laugh.

“yep they won’t be about you.” you murmured, before dozing off to sleep.

———

“i knew it!” nat squealed. you squeezed your eyes close and then opened them, blinking rapidly. pietro lay behind you with his arm draped over your waist. he groaned against your neck and looked over his shoulder at the team standing at the door.

“piet what’s going on?” you grumbled, too tired to sit up and look for yourself.

“so when did this happen?” cap asked.

you finally turned over and sat up, seeing everyone stood in your room. “what the fuck? get out my room you creeps!” you shouted, grabbing the pillow behind your head and throwing it towards them.

“oh come on kid, when did it happen?” he repeated.

“none of your business steve.”

“we’re not leaving until we find out.” clint added.

“you’re awfully quiet little brother, nothing to add?” wanda said.

“i cant believe this.” you muttered, lying back down.

“last night, happy? but all we did was kiss okay, nothing else.” you explained.

“yet.” pietro stated. you elbowed him in the stomach and he winced at the impact.

“so are you two together now?” nat asked.

“well we haven’t had the chance to speak about it because you guys ruined our morning!” you exclaimed.

“what’s going on?” bucky asked, rubbing his eyes. he peered in over everyone and laughed, “nevermind.”

it seemed that pietro had had enough too so he sped out of bed and pushed everyone outside the room, closed the door and locked it. “much better.” he said.

you heard the murmurs of everyone outside, “use a condom!” clint shouted. footsteps retreated from your door as everyone left to go about their day.

“i’m moving out i can’t live here anymore.” you groaned.

“it’s not that bad, you’ve got me.” he said, crawling back onto the bed and lying on top of you. you wrapped your arms around his head and played with his hair.

“so are we like together now?” you asked, mocking natasha’s previously asked question.

“would you like that?” he asked.

“god no.” you joked, “obviously dumbass.”

he lifted his head up and leaned in to kiss you.

“nope. you’ve not brushed your teeth.”

[mahbonesmccoy]

What's the worse that could happen? Fem!(Y/N) x Zemo Chap. 5

A/N: Henlo. Another chap!! Anyways, some things in here are not in line with marvel canon for the sake of the plot. Anyways, enjoy reading!

Warning: None. But beware of grammatical errors and wrong spellings. I wrote this during 3 am.

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: Now let's take a look on Zemo's perspective when you fell asleep on his jet. So vulnerable for him....

Back when you were sleeping at Zemo’s jet, he drank a bit too much of champagne whilst renewing his plan now that you’re in the picture now. Looking at you all snuggled up in his coat stirs up his protectiveness, compelling him to keep you safe at all costs. After all, you’re just a pawn in the game you don’t intend to join.

He looked at your closed eyes, noting the clear evidence of lack of sleep, your soft and pink cheeks and your nose that is starting to go bright red as well. It looks like you’re in the verge of crying in your sleep. Are you dreaming? He scoffed a little, remembering his painfully nights when his family died. Yes… You’re just as innocent as his wife and his son. He leaned forward, abandoning his flute of champagne as he noticed your soft murmurs under your slumber. He knew he had to wake you up when you’re starting to speak louder, your hands gripping his fancy coat far too much that it left a crease.

Poor (Y/N)

He carefully rose up to avoid startling you, and gently shakes you from your nap. His fingers gently caressing your shoulder blades to soothe you, assuring you that you're alright and that you're with him. Safe. He even took the precaution of taking and destroying your phone before boarding you, so there would be no trace of you. He knew for certain that someone’s lurking your apartment right at this moment.

Arriving at Germany, he noticed the small light in your eyes and there he knew you were once happy in Berlin, but he didn’t inquire. He didn’t want to be very inquisitive in your life and perhaps you will tell him yourself in time. He really doubted your innocence at the very beginning, waiting for the betrayal or a stab in the back but it never came.

And you can’t even fight for yourself, let alone fighting him. Your innocence persists when he saw you cooking and talking with Oeznik which concludes his doubts on you. After these series of events where Zemo is psychologically reading you, he found himself all alone in the kitchen while munching a little bit of Turkish delights.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

He turns around, finding your standing near the countertop.

“I couldn’t and so were you.”

“Who would when your life is mostly in danger?”

You slowly drag the chair, not wanting to put a small scratch on his looking-expensive-floor and take your seat, taking one Turkish delight. Zemo, who’s looking at you, is sort of hesitating to speak but he’ll have to tell you eventually about what he’s planning.

“(Y/N), I know it’s quite dangerous and you’re very much aware of that fact, but I might need you in some of my rendezvous. Don’t worry, Yelena gave me a mask that could cover your face.”

You came with him to be safe and now he’s tagging you along with his dangerous hunting down activity, but you can’t help it but feel compelled to agree with his request.

“Firstly, I don’t know how to fight, and you knew that very well since you kept telling me back at the jet that I could easily take your gun down and kill you. Secondly, who’s Yelena?”

This is going to be a long night with her, might as well sit down.

“Firstly, I could always teach you to fight. Between you and me you are stronger, but you need to be sharper. Secondly, she’s a friend of mine in a death squad team. The reason why I offered you this is because you will have bigger chances of survival… I might be clever but there will always be loose ends so I should cut those as early as of now by teaching you how to fight.”

“It sounds like a payment for saving my arse back in America… How soon is this next “rendezvous” of yours?”

“Next week. Nothing too physical… Well, I hope.”

After that, he explained his plan. It's about a party he'll be attending in Berlin, where one of Hydra's cronies will also be there. You can't help but be apprehensive to join him since you're all too familiar with this particular Hydra Associate. Vincent Savick was a great scientist in the lab and one of your Serbian colleagues. You knew he put on a show of kindness and sociability, but you also knew he was ridiculous and cruel.

“I knew Vincent Savick too well. He isn’t a fighter so it should be easier on your end. The difficult part is chasing him. He knows how to hide too well… I was even surprised to even hear his name again.”

He awoke early the next morning, despite sleeping a bit late, because you couldn't stop talking. He realizes how lonely you must have been. He, too, is lonely… Oeznik was out, always early to buy something for the kitchen since the supplies here are rather scarce. This house, like the one in Riga, was only used as a vacation residence. Away from the city of Sokovia. When he heard a tiny squeak from the living room, he was going to make his morning coffee. Ah, you must be awake now. However, the living room was deserted, and there was no trace of you. He hears another crack, this time accompanied by a fabric shuffle sounds. He enters the living room, curious and suspicious, only to find you asleep on the couch. Have you been sleeping the entire time? He recalled going to bed before you, but he had no idea you were going to stay there. There are many things to do, but he has decided to take the day off... Looking down at your sleeping figure, a small smile forms on his lips and softly caresses your hair out of your face.

Oh liebling… Perhaps… Perhaps? I could take good care of you.

While Zemo is adoringly looking at you, pride flashing in his eyes as he realizes he has discovered something to live for, a group of unidentified task force is storming into your residence in America. When they can't find you, they start breaking things and searching the entire flat. They believed you were still working on serums and had them on hand.

They become furious, thinking you've outsmarted them since you're nowhere to be found, but one of them notices your ID, which shows you're a medical school employee. They now have a little lead that might take them to you... They examined the entire library in a stealthy manner, wearing unobtrusive clothing so as not to attract the attention of the students who were studying there.

“Good morning… is Miss Hudson around?”

One of them asked the lady at the counter who is just a student assistant.

“No, I’m sorry. She seems to be either late or absent. She’s suppose to inform me if she won’t be able to make it here.”

“Do you have any idea where she could be?”

“At her home? She seems so private about her life. I really don’t know.”

Before he could ask any more questions, one of his guys shouted out to him in hushed tones, indicating toward the emergency exit. He stepped into the emergency exit, ignoring the curious and frightened student assistant, and saw the two holes in the wall...

“Hmm… I really thought she was dead and it seems death hates her.”

-----

TAGS: @ultrarebelheart @sapphiredreamer26

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas - Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Dusk Till Dawn

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

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

Brother!Parker Holland x Sister!Rosie Holland

-Warnings: Blood, language, angst, fluff, sadness, possible death

-Words: 2.5K

A/n: I’m sorry its short but, I ended it where I feel like I needed to end it to make people wait.

Chapter 10: Dusk Till Dawn

Words: 2.5K

All that could be felt was immense pain. A feeling of death. Tom’s head was throbbing as warm thick liquid streaked across his forehead. His head collided with the door as the copter tossed and turned.

He awoke to the thick, pungent smell of gasoline and to you, paralyzed next to him. It took a minute for him to gather his bearings. The pilot was missing, either he flew out when you crashed or went for help, who knows. Everything started to come back to him, the moments before you both crashed replaying in his head.

The pilot shouting, “MAYDAY! MAYDAY! DOES ANYONE COPY! This is flight number 514 and we are going down.”

“Tom!” “Y/N!”

And you screaming “TOM? WHAT'S HAPPENING?” “I don’t know.” He said pulling you into his arms.

It all happened so fast. First, alarms started going off within the cabin. Then, the pilot started to loose control. Twisting and turning the wheel. The helicopter did somersaults through the air. Tom could see the look on your face, a look of pure terror as the engine started to give out. You all quickly lost altitude and braced for the impact.

You and Tom’s last words were exchange of “I love you”s.

There was no soul in sight for miles, except you. Only the bright blue sky and the mountains of Montserrat. Tom didn’t know why the copter’s engine gave out 17,000 feet in the air. All he knows as you were stranded, with no sense of getting home.

The windows to helicopter were smashed, glass shards littered the floor of the cabin and the blades were deep into the ground. He was lucky the pilot didn’t fly straight into a mountain. There was no sign of the pilot, maybe he parachuted before you crash landed leaving you and Tom to your deaths. Tom didn’t know what to think. His only focus was making sure you were okay.

If it weren’t for the current predicament and the blood dripping down your face, he would have thought you were only sleeping, you looked so peaceful.

He tried to pry himself out of his seatbelt, eventually ripping it so he could get to you. Urgently checking for your pulse. Pressing two fingers below your jaw and against your neck. He was able to breathe again, once he found the faint beat of your heart.

“Y/N? Can you hear me? Wake up, darling.” Tom yelled, shaking you violently.

“Tom? What happened?” Your eyes opened abruptly, confused by your surroundings. “Our helicopter crashed—.”

“Tom, you’re bleeding.” “Not as bad as you. We have to get you out of here. Here, I’ll carry you.” You only nodded in response as Tom tucked his arms under your knees and pulled you close to his chest.

Laying you down near some rocks as far away from the ticking time bomb, the helicopter. It could blow any second, but it never did. The smoke would create the perfect signal but to no avail.

“Tom, your leg!”

“Like I said, it’s not that bad. Oh my god… your stomach” “My what… oh.” You said as you stared at the gapping puncture wound in your right side.

“Is there a first aid kit?” Tom asked. “I think it probably got lost while we were flying.”

“What happened to the pilot?” You questioned. “I don’t know. I can’t find him.” Just nodding in response. Trying not to cry at the situation. You were stranded with no sign of help any time soon.

“Y/N, I need to stop your bleeding… I have an idea. Where is your carry on bag?”

“I put it under my seat” you called out, as Tom searched for it. Opening its contents in search of fairly useful items.

Tom found a hoodie, make up remover that was 70% alcohol, antibacterial wipes, a handheld mirror, and a bunch of makeshift medical items. Your phones had been thrashed, barely working even though there was no signal. He tore the hoodie up and wrapped the pieces around your torso, almost like a tourniquet and bandage to keep pressure and stop the bleeding.

“Ahh,” you screamed, the pain unbearable as he tied the cloth tightly. “I’m sorry,” Tom apologized profusely.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“Now, I have to take care of you,” you said, wiping the blood off of Tom’s.

“No, you need to rest. The kids need you alive more than they need me.” “Don’t say that. They love you and they need both of us alive and well, so let me take care of your leg.”

“Alright, even after a helicopter crash you are still bossy” Tom said chucking.

“Not trying to pick a fight here… I’m sorry but this is gonna sting,” You explained, about to clean his gash.

“It’s ok… aahhh” Tom hissed at the stinging sensation from during makeup remover on the cut on his leg.

“Bet you loved that. A way to get back at me for whatever I did that made you so mad at me,” Tom jabbed.

“You know what you did.” “Y/N this is not the time or the place for this discussion and no I don’t.”

“Let’s just get home alive and then we can resume our fight.”

“You said I love you,” Tom mumbled.

“What?”

“When we were going down… you said I love you. Did you mean it?” “Of course I meant it, Tom. We’ve been together for almost 17 years. How could I not love you?” You cried as Tom pulled you into his warm embrace. Even with the harsh breeze he was still warm to the touch.

“I love you too, darling. We will get out of this, I promise.” Tom asserted and you nodded, trying not let the tears fall.

What killed Tom was the uncertainty of it all. He had to have hope, something you were lacking. He had to have faith that you both would be rescued. That you would get to hold Parker and Rosie in your arms again.

Tom knew you would be okay and rise out of this like a Phoenix from the ashes. Overtime, Tom grew to believe you were indestructible. Everything that you had survived was a marvel. Surviving being tortured by a rival mob, almost dying in childbirth, and now a helicopter crash. There was no, if. You had to survive this. It was hard to have hope when he saw how fast you were deteriorating.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tom asked. Concerned as he noticed your breaths becoming more and more labored.

“I think so, my chest hurts though. It’s getting harder to breathe.” You said, before breaking into a fit of coughs, coughing into your hand. Panic started to arise as small increments of bloods stained your hand.

“Baby, you have to stay with me. Think about Parker and Rosie,” Tom whispered.

“Y/N, we both need to stay awake,” Tom pleaded. “I know, it’s just getting harder to,” you said, your eyes begging to close.

“I know baby. But, Parker and Rosie are waiting for us to come home. They need you Y/N, just like do,” Tom said, cupping you cheek and moving towards you, so you were side by side. Allowing you to rest you head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. For the past weeks, I’ve been so lonely in our bed without you. I’m so sorry that I accused you of cheating.”

“I am too, love. Never in a million years would I cheat on you. You have to know that. I’m so lucky to have you. I never slept with or even kissed Jazz, there’s been someone killing my men at the mob —.” He said, kissing your temple. This kiss was one of longing, he just wanted you to be his again.

“Shh, it’s ok. I don’t want the last words I ever hear to be an explanation of your supposed infidelity.” You said, using the last of energy to let out a strained laugh.

“Y/N, baby you’re not dying ok? You can’t die. Just promise me, you’ll stay awake until help comes,” Tom begged. He couldn’t lose you, not after everything that has happened. He needed you and he always will. “You know I don’t like making promises I can’t keep” you whispered, trying like hell to stay awake as a few tears fell.

It felt like hours, the waiting. The sun had set. Tom had a plan to get you both rescued, when a plane or helicopter flew overhead he would use your compact mirror to reflect the sun. Granted it was a brilliant idea when the sun was still out. If you wouldn’t succumb to your wounds by morning the temperature would certainly kill you both. You had lost all color in your face, looking like a ghost.

You weren’t unconscious but you weren’t very talkative either, which scared the life out of Tom.

Each hour Tom’s hope would fade. He never wanted it to end like this. He demanded he be the one who went first. Tom couldn’t imagine what a world without you would look like.

If it had to be this way, killed, both your prime at least he was holding you in his arms. He was close enough to the point where, if it happened, he could hear your breathing stop along with the beating of your heart. Feeling you tiny labored breaths against his neck.

5 hours, Tom had been holding you, praying you survive, praying he survives along with you.

5 hours and he was ready to give up as he saw you drift off slowly towards a deep sleep. “I’ll see you on the other side, darling” he whispered before letting his eyes flutter to a close.

Back home, everyone was secretly panicking inside. Nikki couldn’t imagine losing her eldest son, neither could Harry and Sam losing their brother. Harry had left to be a part of the search and rescue team. As soon as Paddy got word, he was on the first flight out of Monte Carlo. Dom and all the boys were really trying to keep it together for Rosie and Parker’s sake.

They all had left the news on, praying that it would be announced that you and Tom were found, alive and well. Most of the news updates were irrelevant to the Hollands. They had already known, there was a pilot, even though Tom had been taking flying lessons for years and was skillful at it. They also already knew you were on a business trip. Nothing was really news to them anymore.

“I’m going to make some tea. Anybody want a cup?” Nikki asked, needing a distraction from the chaos. “Yes,” replied Rosie. “Please,” responded Parker. “That’d be wonderful darling,” said Dom. “Just what the doctor ordered. Let me help you with that,” said Sam. They were all big fans of a cup of tea. What couldn’t tea fix?

DING DONG

Rang the door bell. Nobody was really up for visitors but, I would be rude to not answer. Hoping it not some nosy reporters trying to get a story from broken family members of you and Tom.

“Rosie could get that, please?” Nikki called from the kitchen.

“Sure Grandma,” Rosie replied somberly. Opening the door to the last person she expected to see but the first person she wanted to see. After her parents, of course.

“I just came to see if you were okay. My dad is doing everything he can through the business side… I know you need your space. This was a mistake, I’ll go.” Henry said, staring at the ground. “Please, stay,” Rosie muttered, teary-eyed from all the crying.

“You mean it?”

“I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Hey, come here. They’ll be okay.” Henry said, wrapping his arms around her. Oh god, how missed comforting her.

“Henry, I’m so scared. What if we can’t find them?”

“Roo, we will find them. You have to have hope.” “I keep thinking we find them, but they’re dead.” “You can’t think like that,” he said, wiping tears from her cheeks.

“I missed you. Thanks for being here, you’re a nice distraction” “I’ll always be here,” he whispered, cut off by Rosie’s lips against his. It didn’t take long for him to kiss back. This was his second chance and he wasn’t going to miss it.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” Rosie said, pulling away.

“No, I’m sorry. I really screwed up. I never should’ve broken up with you. I love you too much, Rosie Louise Holland. Take me back?”

“I’ve always loved you, Henry Maxwell Osterfield. Of course,” reassured Rosie. Capturing his lips once more in a more passionate yet gentle kiss. “Wait, I have something for you,” Henry stopped, pulling out something from his back pocket.

“That is, if you still want it,” he explained, holding you the silver charm necklace adorned with a H and a R. “Duh, div. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Rosie quipped as he clasped the necklace together. “There. Now it’s back in its rightful place,” she said, the biggest smile adorning her face. “Rosie, get in here! There’s an update,” called Parker from the living room.

Rosie pulled Henry through foyer and to the family room for the news. She tensed at the thought of the words “2 DEAD” displaying across the silver screen.

“We’ve just got word that both Tom and Y/N have been found. We are unaware of their condition. They are being airlifted to a hospital in Barcelona. Hopefully we can update you on that once families members have been informed. The pilot is still missing. Please stay with us as we continue to update you on this story,” announced the newscaster. Everyone rejoiced, there were no longer sad tears only happy ones. They were all on the first flight out including Harrison and Henry.

It was miracle, they found you when they did. Harry was part of team in rescuing you and Tom. He refused to sleep until he brought you both back home.

“We found them!” A loud speaker sounded from the chopper flying above. The rescue was eminent, you and Tom were found.

“Get two stretchers over here,” called one of the rescuers.

“Tom? Can you hear me? It’s Harry,” Harry said, trying to wake Tom.

“Harry?” Tom whispered, slightly stirring awake.

“Yes, you’re saved. We got you and we are on our way to the hospital.”

“What about Y/N? She’s lost a lot of blood. Please tell me she’s ok,” Tom pleaded, eyes barely even open.

“They got her in the other chopper. She’s gonna be ok, I promise,” Harry stammered.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Tom whispered before being consumed by darkness.

A/n: I just want to apologize here, I'm sorry. I'm so in love with this chapter and couldn't wait to share it with all of you.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist:@thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy

[marvelsswansong]

kind gestures

summary: simple exchanges of kind gestures go a long way- in saving lives, healing and leading two enemies to eventual love. 

tags: enemies to lovers, violence, slow burn-ish, second chances, starts with angst but ends with fluff ✨

word count: 5.8K

a/n: this was written as part of the Marvel fic writers x BLM Request campaign (check masterlist for more info). This fic was one of the hardest for me to write and took 2 months to finalize so a bit nervous about posting this one. 

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

The edge of the cup clunked awkwardly with the wooden tray she was carrying as May carefully parted Peter’s door, revealing a very stressed out Peter. He was staring blankly at his textbook with his head in his hands, eyes wide yet unblinking. Carefully setting down the cup of coffee onto his desk (she normally didn’t let him indulge in caffeine but considering all the late nights he’d been pulling lately, she figured she could give him a pass this week) May held the tray close to her chest and watched her nephew’s response, which was a whispered thank you without even looking up. She sighed- she’d seen stress and exam cramming, but it was never this bad. 

“Alright, what’s going on?” May pressed, forcing Peter to look up at his aunt. His whole face was now more visible under the lights, allowing her to clearly see the dark circles underneath his eyes and his unkempt curls sticking out in odd directions from the countless times he’d run his fingers through his hair. 

“What’d you mean?” he asked lowly, causing May to raise an eyebrow.

“You’re eating half the amount you used to. You’re getting basically no sleep these days, you’re moody, you’re quiet… What’s going on, Pete?” she questioned, genuinely concerned as she lay a hand on his shoulder. Peter had to bite his lip from wincing as she was lightly squeezing a fresh bruise he’d gotten last night while chasing a robber, and forced out a smile, one as realistic as he could muster.

“Just stressed, May. Senior year is no joke.” his half attempted humor caused May to purse her lips but she didn’t want to push her nephew any further if he didn’t want to share, so she just smiled, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. 

“Alright. And you know you can talk to me about anything, right?” 

Peter nodded, almost reflexively. 

“Of course.” 

She smiled and gave him a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Alright. Love you loads. Try to sleep soon, okay?.” 

Peter let out a heavy sigh as soon as May closed the door behind her, the tension leaving his body. Squeezing his eyes shut and leaning back on his chair, he pondered on how he was going to be able to keep this up for another month or two. Normally balancing his schoolwork, social life and his superhero identity wasn’t so draining. Definitely not the easiest, but he wasn’t relying on three cups of coffee a day and for Ned to trade him notes as Peter could barely keep an eye open during class. 

He’d already had to beg two different teachers to not send May a concerned email or give her a call as he’d been caught sleeping in class five different times now. He couldn’t help it, he was just so exhausted and… angry. 

Spiderman had been falling in the public eye’s favour for the past few months. He was no longer the unanimously loved friendly neighbourhood superhero, rather he was now seen as a failure, unable to keep the villains of New York in check. It’d all started three months ago, when a string of robberies occurred across several big banks on the upper east side of Queens. It made headlines and left officials scratching their heads, but Peter wasn’t too concerned- robberies weren’t uncommon in New York and usually the criminals got caught a few weeks later and never attempted to rob again.

But then it came out that a note had been left at the scene of the crime. Drawn in red lipstick, a picture of a crescent moon was painted onto a high security vault which had been drained of all its gold. The media went into a frenzy and Peter recalled watching the NYPD press conference on his phone during lunch time, the head officer describing this behavior as of “possibly a serial robber” and warning the public of any suspicious behaviour.

But it was all speculation back then.

Then a week after that string of robberies came a gruesome murder where the mayor of New York City was gutted like a pig in his million dollar mansion, his bloodied and mutilated body bleeding out onto the rich white marble floors. The killer left an identical lipstick moon at the crime scene, this time painted onto the mirror in his living room under the word written hastily: “PIG.” 

The police was careful to say these two crimes were connected, as it could be a copycat trying to masquerade as the robber. 

Only for three days after the mayor was killed, the killer went after the head of a property investment firm located in west Queens, the corpse found with both of his hands caught off. Another lipstick moon was left at the scene, written under the word: “ROBBER.” A jewelry store was then stolen from the night after, followed by a string of killings of rich politicians and businessmen as the weeks went by- each time they were mutilated differently, but their murders were always accompanied by the lipstick moon. 

Once it became clear that there was a serial killer on the loose, pure panic descended the city. The police began to heighten security measures around the business sectors of New York and put out a reward for any information on the killer, all the while the public began to fear who this unknown master assassin was. 

Peter, as both a citizen of New York and a superhero, felt a moral obligation to capture this villain and put them in their place. He began to map where these crimes were happening and found a few connections: the crimes only occurred in New York and always during the night. Upon asking Karen to hack into the police force database, he read that the choice of weapon was always a carving knife, though varying in size each time. 

He started amping up his nightly patrols, commanding Karen to immediately notify him if any distress calls about murders or robberies in the New York City area were being passed through the police station. He was determined to catch this killer, who later became nicknamed as Moonshine, named after the deadly and illegal alcohol brand, but every time he got close he was always somehow too late. And with every robbery and murder Peter failed to stop, the terror felt by citizens began to morph into anger and blame for Spiderman. 

He’d never faced such slander before. Comments under articles reporting more of Moonshine’s crimes were littered with people questioning why Spiderman had yet to catch the villain, what exactly he was doing to try and even stop it. The public scrutiny paired with the increased pressure by the police for the superhero to help them out was so intense that Tony eventually stepped in, going off on a press conference about how Spiderman was still a young person and how unfair it was to put the burden all on this one boy. 

“Don’t worry about it, okay, Peter? Fury’s agreed to let us work on this case, now that it’s been dialed up to a kill count of almost 30 and the entire nation is in panic over it. You go home and sleep, focus on school, okay? And EAT! You look blue.” Tony had chastised, pushing Peter to go back home after he’d spent the whole night at the lab trying to connect more of the killings for any clues. 

But sleep wouldn’t come to him.

The pit in his stomach was unbearable. He felt useless, powerless and frustrated. 

The only progress he managed to make since he started working on the case happened a week ago, when he was the first one to respond to a distress call made by the wife of a prominent politician. 

Peter immediately swung to the affluent neighborhood and stepped into the bedroom, where the politician was cowering in the corner as the criminal had their hands outstretched in the air, the knife glimmering in the moonlight.

“Stop.” 

You turned around and his eyes widened- you were a girl. It was obvious by the way that the suit was hugging your body and the way you spoke, though your voice was slightly lower pitched due to the voice modulator installed in your suit. 

“Spiderboy? Never thought you’d show up, considering everyone hates you now. Now leave.” you pointed to the exit with your knife, the tip glittering threateningly with a drop of blood. Peter pursed his lips, gritting his teeth angrily.

“Not a chance. You’ve been terrorizing the entire state of New York with your unnecessary killings and robberies.” 

You just smirked, amusement seeping through your tone. 

“Unnecessary? Is that what you view that as?”

“More than that. You’re a villain. You’re immoral. You’re sick.” 

The man behind you then yelled and lunged forward, trying to tackle you onto the floor. You stepped backwards but the force at which he moved cause you to accidentally cut yourself a few inches below your hand, a gash appearing on your wrist. Your gaze turned murderous under your mask and you swore, gripping the metal blade even tighter.

Before Peter could web you down you moved at lightning speed, slitting the man’s throat before rounding around Peter and kicking him down. The pure speed and unadulterated strength with which you kicked caused him to clumsily fall onto the floor, his body colliding with the wooden drawer in the corner. Then within a blink of an eye you’d sped off somewhere else, and by the time he ran into the living room you’d already left your message on the pristine white sofa, the lipstick moon sigma smiling at him mockingly. This time you’d written the word “cheater” under the drawing, the letters messy and sticking out in odd directions.

Peter cursed.

He was so fucking close. 

The walk back home was hard, his heart feeling low and the sweeping sensation of guilt punching him in the stomach with every step he took. He asked Karen to pass on the new information to the NYPD and Tony (“she’s a girl and she has super speed and super strength”) before turning off all his electronics and closing all the curtains in his room, enclosing the space in darkness.

He needed to get away from all the scrutiny and responsibilities for a while. 

That was a whole week ago. 

And nothing had changed. Peter was still stressed, still being scrutinized, still feeling the intense backlash from the public. If it wasn’t for his natural intellect he was sure he would’ve failed the past three exams he took, considering he was falling asleep in almost every class and getting by on intense cramming sessions and copious amounts of redbull. He’d been barred by Tony and even Fury himself from looking further into this case, both of them arguing that it wasn’t “good for a teen” and that Peter needed to “get more food and sleep.”

But how could they say that when this was all Peter could think about?

Once he heard the lights go out in May’s room, his stomach growled in hunger and he was suddenly craving some ice cream. Figuring that there was a 7/11 open just down the block from his apartment, Peter quickly pulled on a spare pair of jeans and a Stark Tower hoodie (even packing his web shooters underneath his sleeves- he never knew) and headed out the door. 

The walk was quiet and brisk, the night wind whipping past his face as his footsteps rang out in the dark. Stepping into the convenient store he accidentally bumped into someone, stepping on their feet in haste.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” a feminine voice rang out, paired with a laugh. He looked up, his cheeks flushing red when his first thought was that you were very, very pretty. Wearing a breezy floral tank top and a tight pair of jeans, you were giving him the brightest smile he’d ever seen on a girl, one that made his breath stop in his throat.

“No, it’s fine. It’s my-” his words trailed off when his eyes fell onto your arm. 

There was a gash on your left arm, right underneath your hand, right where he had sliced Moonshine a week ago. 

“It’s my fault.” Peter finished, smiling awkwardly. Thankfully, you didn’t question it, simply amused at the cute boy blushing in front of you. Then as soon as you turned around to walk up to the cashier, he rolled his sleeves back and webbed you to the counter. Your eyes widened in shock, a couple of swear words passing by your lips before your eyes narrowed at him, finally recognizing him.

“Spiderboy.” 

He ignored the string of curses and angry comments that left your mouth and immediately called Tony. 

“Mr.Stark? I’m sending you my location right now. I’ve caught Moonshine.”

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

Winter break came two weeks later, along with the fury of the freezing cold and layers of snow covering every inch of the city. Bundled up under three layers of fur and fuzz, Peter wrapped the red scarf around the lower portion of his face several times before stepping out into the street, the paper bag filled with books heavy in his left hand. 

Things had gone back to somewhat normal following your capture, the whirlwind of media sensationalism and public anxiety bubbling down to a silence. Tony had clapped Peter on the back and congratulated him, telling him that “the adults will take it from here.” Though now that it was winter break, Peter was visiting Stark Tower more than ever, the unlimited amount of books and scientific resources an attractive excuse to not be stuck in his apartment for weeks on end. After all, he even had an entire floor to himself after being dubbed an honorary avenger, and it was his recluse, away from any stress or responsibilities. 

Greeting the receptionist, Peter passed through the sliding glass doors and hummed as he stepped into the elevator. The elevator stopped on its ascent and he could hear some of the adults in midst of a heated argument as an exasperated Sam entered the elevator, shaking his head. 

“Is… everything okay?” Peter questioned, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. Sam sighed, crossing his arms.

“Ms public enemy won’t talk. She’s just been sarcastic and rude and driving Tony up the wall. The latter I actually appreciate. Everything else I don’t.”

Peter nodded, letting out a quiet “oh” and reverting his gaze to the floor.

“Is there… is there anything I can do to help?” 

Sam just smiled and waved it off.

“Nah. Thanks though kid, if it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have her in our custody.” 

As the doors slowly slid shut Peter leaned on his right foot to look out, seeing a small figure hunched on a metal chair in a glass box while the rest of the Avengers argued amongst themselves outside. You made direct eye contact with him and smirked and he quickly looked away, troubled thoughts filling his head.

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

No lesser than three hours when he saw you in that cell, you were walking free (well, semi-free with a GPS tracking bracelet on your right wrist) around the tower as if you’d lived there all along. Peter had immediately reached for his web shooters, fearing that you’d escaped, when Steve stopped him, putting a firm hand on Peter’s wrist.

“C-captain, I don’t understand, why-” 

Steve sighed, his eyebrows furrowing in deep thought.

“Fury and her talked and apparently she holds a lot of dirt on criminals and high ranking illegal activity by politicians that both the US government and SHIELD wants. In exchange for information she’s been granted limited freedom.” 

Peter wanted to talk back, argue about how ridiculously unfair and dangerous that decision was, but before he even had a chance to open his mouth Steve was pulled away by Bruce, some quiet murmurings about a meeting being exchanged that Peter didn’t have the brainpower to absorb. If Peter would’ve had the luxury to not know who you were, he probably would have been fine with seeing you walk around the kitchen. 

Especially because he wasn’t blind- you were stunning. 

But all he could feel right now was rage and hatred, the twisting of his gut intensifying as he toyed with the idea in his head. His enemy was walking around freely and happily even after all she’d done, all the people she’d scared and killed-

The lights went out at the moment, plunging the room into darkness. His senses forced him forwards and to corner you immediately, causing your eyebrow to raise in the dark.

“Can I help you, spiderboy?” 

“Don’t call me that.” he scowled. “I’m just trying to make sure a villain isn’t going to get away. You’re not responsible for this, are you?” 

You rolled your eyes.

“Are you serious? I’ve been in prison for the past three hours and had this big bracelet cuffed to my wrist that I literally can’t even saw it off if I wanted to. It’s made of vibranium or some shit and I need a code to be able to unlock it.” 

“Stop talking, I’m trying to think.” Peter snapped, his senses on high alert. He was waiting for a notification on his phone or some kind of announcement from FRIDAY but the floor was completely silent, the only sounds in the room being the labored breathing from him and you. 

The sound of glass breaking filled the air and you both tensed, your arm already reaching for the knife on the counter behind you as Peter began to walk towards the noise.

He never got to, however, when you pushed him behind you and swung your arm at the intruder, the blade pointing directly at the intruder’s neck. Under the veil of darkness it was hard to make out what was happening, but he could hear the slap on skin from where you were attacking the assailant and the heavy grunts from when you flipped the intruder over to the floor, the body smacking right against the concrete floor. A shout and you had pinned the unknown man to the floor, your legs right on his neck and causing him to pass out. 

Peter spoke quietly into the dark, not being able to see who had won the fight.

“Uh… you okay, Moonshine?”

Soft footsteps pattered against floor as you came into view, wiping the bloodied knife from where it had grazed the intruder’s skin on your shirt.

“(Y/n).”

He paused.

“What?”

“Don’t call me Moonshine. I’ve always hated that name. My name’s (Y/n).” 

Fuck, he thought the name was kind of pretty. Shifting nervously, he bit his lip before speaking.

“Well, (Y/n) thanks for… saving my life.” 

“You’re welcome.”

An awkward and tense atmosphere filled the air as Peter pondered over what to say next, before it hit him.

“Wait… why did you save my life? I thought your whole deal was that you killed people for no reason? Politicians, businessmen, robbing banks…”

You licked your lips, your eyes falling to the floor as you let out a humorless chuckle. 

“The banks I robbed were scamming citizens below the poverty line to bypass tax policies. The mayor sexually assaulted all his female staff. The property investment firm’s CEO was stealing money from the firm’s deals while cutting pay for his workers. The lawyer was contaminating evidence so his client would win, the politician was cheating on his wife, the last guy I killed was a convicted rapist.”

The lights flickered back on and two guards with the SHIELD symbol marched in, motioning for you to follow them. You sighed, dropping the knife into the sink and looking at Peter’s shocked face with amusement.

“I’d never kill someone who wasn’t guilty. I’m not a villain, Spiderboy. I’m the equalizer.” 

The man to your right grabbed your arm roughly, almost pulling you forward towards the entrance as Peter watched you walk off. His mouth felt weirdly dry and his brain was foggy, not sure of how to process all the information you’d just given him.

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

You were starting to get comfortable in the prison cell they’d allocated you to, the harsh cement floor feeling softer and softer every minute. You supposed it was a good thing that you were captured by the Avengers and not their sinister counterparts, considering you were still being served warm food and given time to sleep. Even if they gave you the bare minimum or glared at you while giving you food, it was better than nothing. 

Each day was blending into the next, though you were allowed to wander out of your cell at certain points throughout the day given that you were wearing your bracelet and under the constant surveillance of FRIDAY. But those times where you weren’t outside, you were either being interrogated by an Avenger or forced to watch the Avengers argue amongst themselves outside of your cell. 

It was all miserable and isolating, to say the least. But you supposed…

Perhaps you did deserve all this. 

The night settled in and something must’ve broken in your cell, because it was suddenly much colder than it was an hour ago. The superheroes had decided to call it a night, each of them going back to their floors and living you all alone in your cell. Shivering slightly, you pushed yourself against the wall and rubbed your hands together, trying to brace the cold. To your surprise, you soon heard the door opening and a hand reaching out to you, holding a thick blanket in their hands. 

“Here.” 

Your eyes trailed upwards and stopped at Peter’s face, a slight blush dusting his cheeks as he coughed awkwardly and extended the material towards you. Taken back by the kind gesture, you didn’t take it, afraid of this being some kind of a twisted joke or a test. But he just kept on holding it out towards you, his eyes basically begging you to take it. 

“Thanks.” you whispered, wrapping yourself with the thick blanket. He nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. “Where uh… where’ve you been the past few days?”  

“What do you mean?” 

You shrugged. 

“You used to pass by my cell almost every day, Spiderboy. Well, every day since that day of the failed invasion. Then I stopped seeing you for a whole three days till… well, today. What’s up with that?” 

His eyes widened then he awkwardly scratched his neck, as if almost embarrassed about telling you this.

“Right, about that…. Well, after what you told me, uh, that night, I… I went to talk to Director Fury by myself. He was pretty wary about my idea and it took me a few days to convince him but I think he’s going to agree with me now.” he said lowly, slowly sitting down on your bed as you shifted over and gestured for him to sit down. 

“What’s the idea?” 

“Well… basically, you leave this cell and the bracelet behind. In exchange, you work with the Avengers for the next two years. Kind of like a superhero internship, so you can help people the right way. Because that’s ultimately what you’re trying to do, just… maybe your methods are wrong.” he was speaking to you softly, and you were frozen, touched by his kindness.

“You… you really did all that for me?” 

He nodded shyly, not meeting your gaze.

“Yeah.” 

A beat of silence passed.

“W-why?” it was your turn to stutter as you shifted towards him, searching his eyes for any sign of deceit or manipulation. But there was none. Just pure sincerity as he smiled. 

“Because I was wrong about you, (Y/n). And the world deserves to know that they were wrong about you, too.” 

You opened your mouth to respond then closed it, when words failed you.

“Well…. Thanks, Spidey.”

“Peter. That’s my real name. Peter Parker.” he cut you off and you smiled, tugging the blanket closer towards yourself.

“Peter. I like that name a lot.” 

You had a feeling you and Peter were going to get along from now on.

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

Peter was staring at you. Again. 

Had you noticed? He wouldn’t know, you’d never brought it up to him. Weeks had flown by since the ice had broken and you’d slowly started to let him in and he was starting to see who you really were as he managed to take down your walls brick by brick. Between late night talks, walks in the park after training and secret sleepovers filled with sugar, he’d slipped into a dangerous crack of infatuation. 

It started out with fascination. Fascination with someone so morally different from him, a fascination with the layers of secrecy wrapped around yourself, a fascination with the unknown. Then somewhere along the way it turned into a friendship, a quiet compliment leaving your lips out of nowhere, a small smile, your unapologetic laugh muffled behind your arm as Peter tried (and failed, miserably) to drag in a six foot teddy bear into your room after winning it at a county fair. The bruise he had on his lower back was a testament to the fall.

The seasons melted from fall to winter eventually, meaning it was time for him to switch jackets for sweaters and blankets to fluffy multi-layered ones. He still remembered the time he caught you wrapped up in all three of his blankets in his room when he’d returned late from training one day, and the adorably panicked look on your face. 

And the others had caught onto his infatuation, apparently. It was all too clear from the snide remarks and gentle shoves from Sam and Bucky, the incredibly awkward love advice given from Steve (which was promptly followed by Natasha rolling her eyes and telling Peter not to follow it), and the outright questions from Tony over cups of coffee.

“You like her, don’t you? Miss public enemy number one.” Tony mentioned casually one day, accepting the hot cup of coffee Peter had brought in for him from the kitchen.

Peter almost dropped the other cup of coffee he was holding in his hands, the stumble obvious and eliciting a soft chuckle from his mentor’s mouth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter replied quickly, averting his gaze. Tony rolled his eyes.

“You know who I’m talking about. Hey-” 

Peter looked up at Tony, worried about what he was going to say about you.

“I know we were all harsh on her at the beginning but we all like her now. Besides, I think you two would be good for each other.”

“Peter-” 

The call of his name forced him to snap out of his daze, your hand being waved in front of Peter’s face repeatedly. When he looked up at you, his eyes glazed over, you laughed.

“Too much soda?” 

He shook his head sideways, brushing off your comment.

“No. Not enough, actually. But I think there should be more in the fridge-” he walked over and opened it, only to find it void of any soda. “Huh. Guess not.”

“We could go out for one. There’s a 7/11 just down the street.” you spoke up from your seat from the floor, carefully separating your legs underneath the thick blanket. He agreed and the two of you snuck out the tower after grabbing a thick coat and sneakers, almost forgetting to bring the credit card that Tony had lended you and Peter for “emergencies only.” 

The walk was silent, the only sound being the snow being crushed under your feet, given that it was well past 10pm on a Wednesday. A few cars passed by but it was a mostly deserted street, albeit it well lit and seemingly safe. A few giggles and a light shove was exchanged in the store (to which the store clerk glared at you and Peter for) and the two of you left with two large bottles of soda. 

“Damn it, I forgot something.” Peter swore after the store door closed behind you. You smiled.

“It’s fine, go inside. I’ll just be waiting outside here for you.”

You hummed quietly to yourself to fill the empty space, your slow breaths coming out in white clouds and dissipating into the cold air. The sound of a scream and two bodies struggling caught your attention, the distressed noises coming from the alley around the corner. Spurring into action, you gave it little thought before running towards the noise.

It was dark, darker than usual, not a single street lamp to light the way. Carefully stepping forwards, you brushed past some bushes and a dumpster, before walking right into a heavy figure. Before you could do anything, the figure knocked you against the brick wall, your head colliding with the unforgiving cement and a cold blade pressed against your neck.

“Give me all your money.” the clearly male voice growled into your ear. 

“Who’s she?” another male voice spoke out in the dark, a smaller figure thrashing in his hold. From the moonlight passing over ahead you saw it was a girl, a large bruise on her left cheek and terror evident in her eyes as her irises stared into yours.

“No clue. But might as well get someone outta her too, huh?” the man holding you chuckled, the blade now actually pinching your skin. Dropping your groceries onto the floor, you slowly nodded, your left hand reaching for your wallet inside your pocket. The man lowered his blade for a millisecond, relaxing under the guise of your compliance, and in that momentary relief you kicked your heel out and hit his knees, causing him to groan and drop his blade. 

Swiftly kicking his face, you reached for the blade, only to be tackled by the other man behind you onto the floor. He attempted to hit you in the face, a blow you managed to dodge last second by twisting your head to the side, before you shifted your body upwards and pulled yourself out of his hold. 

The first man was knocked out cold, apparently, his body unmoving except for the slowed breaths leaving his lips. You acknowledged this for a few seconds before another swung at your face came from the other man, this time landing it on your left cheek. Stumbling from the impact, you stopped his hand, now holding the blade, a few inches away from your neck, the tip glistening menacingly in the moonlight. 

Twisting his arm to the side, he cried out in pain and this time you were the one to push him against the wall, your blade against his neck. Out of breath, pumped full of adrenaline and anger, the terrified look of the female victim burned into your mind, the thought of killing entered your mind for the first time in a year.

“(Y/n)-” 

Peter’s voice cut through your hazed mind, distracting you for a brief moment, but before the man could retaliate Peter webbed the criminal’s hands to the walls. 

“Karen, please send the police my location.”

The girl was still shaking, half from fear and half from the freezing cold, and you shrugged off your own coat and wrapped her around in it. She thanked you over and over again until the police arrived, carefully taking her in and shoving the criminals into a police car and slamming it shut. Once the red and blue lights faded away Peter’s cold hand reached out for your cheek in the dark, and you twisted yourself away from it.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Don’t touch me, Parker.” 

Peter recoiled in shock, the venom in your tone obvious and distasteful.

“(Y/n), you’re scaring me.”

“I should scare you. I’m- I’m a fucking monster, Peter.” 

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you shivered from the cold, causing Peter to immediately take off his own coat and try to wrap you in it.

“DON’T touch me.” you shouted, trying to escape his hands. He sighed, looking like a kicked puppy, and holding out his coat.

“I promise I won’t touch you. But you’re freezing. Take my coat. Please?” 

You stared at him for a few moments, unmoving, before snatching the warm coat from his hands and begrudgingly wrapping yourself with it. 

“If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But-” Peter sighed, wrapping his arms around himself. “It’s freezing out here and we should start getting back to the tower.” 

Silence.

“Fine.” 

Carefully picking up the discarded grocery bags, the two of you walked back to Stark Tower, Peter ever so slightly walking closer to you as a result of his protective streak flaring up. The bruise starting to form underneath your left eye was becoming prominent under the street lights, causing Peter to stare at your face worriedly as you simultaneously tried to avoid your gaze. 

You didn’t speak until the two of you ended back up in Peter’s living room, collapsing onto the inflatable sofa with a sob.

“Hey, hey-” he was quick to soothe, wrapping his arms around you and letting you cry into his shoulder. 

“I-I almost killed him.” you admitted. You expected him to shrug you off, disgusted or shocked, but all he did was stroke your hair, pressing a shaky kiss onto your forehead. “I’m a horrible person, Peter. I’m forever going to be a bad person, I-I’m unable to be fixed-” 

“Stop saying that.” he cut you off, taking your face into his hands and forcing you to look at him. His eyes were just soft and sincere, not even a hint of disgust or fear in his irises. “You’re not perfect, sure. But no one is. And you’ve come so far from the first time I ran into you a year ago. Don’t throw all that progress away just because of a momentary thought.” 

“Why do you even bother with me?” you asked quietly, wiping away a stray tear with your sleeve. Peter smiled.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re worth it.” 

The kiss was natural and swift, you leaning in but Peter being the one to close the gap. When Peter pulled away, his cheeks tinted pink and a wide smile on his lips, you chuckled and crossed your arms.

“We still have one more problem.” 

“And what’s that?” he asked, teasing. 

“The soda’s all frozen because we were out for too long.” 

Peter laughed, his shoulders relaxing and his hand brushing away a stray strand of hair falling from your face.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” 

You smacked him lightly on the chest, playfully.

“It’s a valid concern!”

He licked his lips, slowly nodding and then staring at you wistfully.

“Hopefully it’s the biggest of our problems.” 

“Hopefully.” 

And it was.

Until seven years later, when Peter had to plan the proposal.

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a/n: AHHHH that’s it! I’m not the most confident about this one so please leave a like/reblog/comment if you liked it! it takes five seconds but makes my whole day <3

[machine-gun-casie]

Baby Mama

@kellysimagines: Can you make one where the reader and mgk just had a baby and with a lot of cuteness i hope you like it!!

warning: birth?

wc: 1.7k

It was almost like déjà vu. He got the phone call from Emma while he was in the studio. You had been staying with Casie’s mom after you passed your due date and had yet to go into labor.

“Colson, the baby’s coming.” She had said the exact same words when Casie was coming into this world. Emma’s words echoed in his ears.

Colson blinked. His brain was pulling nothing but blanks. “What?”

“The baby, Colson! Get your ass to the hospital now!” Emma demanded, clearly surrounded by chaos. When the line started beeping, signalling Emma hanging up, Colson finally processed what he just heard. Somewhat.

“Fuck.” He whispered.

Baze looked at him and then looked at Rook and AJ and finally back to Colson. “What’s going on?”

Slim rolled his eyes and got up off the couch. “I know that fucking look. Get up, I’ll drive you.”

“What’s the look?” Baze asked, not catching up.

“His Baby Mama is giving birth to his child. Who’s coming? We don’t got time.”

The whole band pretty much walked Colson to the car as he was still frozen. Slim knew that as soon as the hospital was in sight, Colson would be as excited as ever.

And he was right. “Holy shit! Baby Baker number two is coming! Holy motherfucking shit!” Everyone in the car started cheering like crazy, finally understanding the weight of the situation.

The group of men clambered into the hospital reception looking like they had no reason to be there. Slim decided to take control as he was the only one acting normal.

“Hi, we’re here for y/n l/n. We just got a call that she went into labor.” Slim explained to the nurse, pretending the entourage behind him was nonexistent.

The nurse skimmed through her computer before nodding. “Yes, I’ve got her right here. Are you the father?”

Slim sighed and shook his head. “No, he is.” He pointed his finger to Colson who had the absolute biggest smile on his face.

“I’m the- I’m the dad. Is she uh- are they ok? Is it all good?” Colson spoke, happiness interfering with his ability to speak properly.

“I’m sure they’re fine, let me take you to her.” The nurse smiled and started heading down the hallway. When she heard way too many feet following her, she turned around abruptly. “I’m sorry, your group is too big for the delivery room. It would be best if only the father would follow me beyond this point.”

The group collectively groaned, each one clapping Colson on the back. Slim made sure to be last. “She’s gonna do great, Kells.”

“I know.” Colson smiled. “She’s the strongest motherfucker I’ve ever met.”

Colson was given scrubs and a hairnet to wear before he could enter the delivery room. He took out his phone and quickly went on to Instagram. He pressed the button and began talking, not entirely sure if his words were intelligible.

“Hey guys, I’m all suited up for the delivery room right now. My second child is currently coming into the world. My Baby Mama is gonna kill it like she always does. Next time y’all fuckers see me, Imma be a father of two.” He stuck his tongue out and posted it to his story. He threw his phone on a chair outside the room and walked in.

No one even knew you were pregnant, so he was sure his phone would be blowing up for the next week.

When he walked in, he saw Emma and Casie on either side of your bed holding your hands.

“Dad! y/n, he’s here!” Casie called out to her father to take her place. Colson immediately took your clammy hand in his. Emma took her daughter and walked out of the room to give you two privacy, the moment seeming to be tender and personal.

“Hey, hey special girl. How are you? How are you doing?” Colson whispered, brushing away the strands of hair stuck to your sweaty forehead.

“I ugh.” You groaned in pain, ending your statement half way through. “I uh- I’m pushing through. Thought it was gonna be more painful than this, to be honest.”

“How the fuck can you imagine something more painful than childbirth. Isn’t it at the top of the charts?” Colson asked, amazed at how you weren’t accepting defeat, not even in your most vulnerable of moments.

“I’m not sure. Kind of feels like a chainsaw was let loose in my vagina.” You chuckled through the pain. “Makes me regret fucking you.”

“Hey now, don’t say things like that.” Colson laughed. “You love fucking me.”

“Never said I didn’t love it, just might regret it and the fact that I forgot the pill.” You replied, squeezing his hand as you felt another contraction coming.

“That is something we can work on. How are you feeling? You wanna push? Should I call the doctor?”

You brought your other hand up and smothered it in Colson’s face. “Shut up a second.” You whispered, face scrunched up in pain. You let out a few shallow breaths through your clenched teeth before you looked at him. “Sorry, needed the contraction to be over so I could understand what you were saying. Yeah, I think I wanna push.”

Colson’s smile seemed to only grow bigger. “Alright, I’ll tell them to call the doctor. I fucking love you.” He ran off to find the nurse that was just in the room, and as he left Emma walked back in.

“Hey, Col says you wanna push?” She asked gently, coming back to your side.

“Yeah, I think so. Been resisting for a bit. Every time I told the doctor, she kept saying it wasn’t time. But I really feel like it’s time.” You said, panting with every word.

“You’ve been doing so well, y/n. We’re all so proud of you. Casie keeps gushing about how strong you are.” She smiled.

You felt pride bloom on your face. “Really? Oh my God, I love that little girl. Where is she?”

Emma nodded her out to the door. “She’s out with the guys. Everyone’s asking how you’re doing. None of those boys have patience, they can’t wait to meet the new Baker. And Colson? That man is in love if I’ve ever seen it.”

“Oh, he better be.” You grunted.

Before you could complete your thought, the doctor rushed in along with Colson, who rushed right back to your side. “Alright, we think we’re ready to push?”

“Please tell me it’s time.” You groaned, not wanting to be declined once more.

“It’s time, honey. Push.”

With that one word, you felt the air in the room change. Your body felt like it was working on its own as you began pushing. You felt your face become hotter as you kept in your wails of pain.

“It’s alright, beautiful. You can scream. Let it all out.” Colson spoke gently to you, not sure why you were keeping it in.

“I can’t. Case is outside, I don’t want her to hear. I don’t want her to be afraid.” You groaned.

Colson looked at you in the same way again. With awe. You didn’t understand why. “How the fuck are you so fucking perfect?”

“Colson, please shut the fuck up and kiss me.” You sighed. You wanted him to do anything just to take your mind off the pain. Colson placed his lips on yours, eager to do anything you would ask of him. He kissed you and he kissed you and he kept on kissing you until he heard the shrill cries of his newborn baby. Of your newborn baby.

“Oh my God! Our baby’s here. Colson, our baby’s here. Oh my god.” You were blubbering, not sure how to explain your excitement in words. The nurses quickly wiped down your newborn and placed the baby on your bare chest.

“This is our baby, Colson.” You breathed out, amazed at the little miracle you had on your chest.

“That’s our baby.” Colson repeated, bending down a little more to look closely at the newborn’s face. “It’s got your lips.” Colson smiled, lightly tracing along the newborn’s cupid’s bow.

You chuckled, nodding your agreement. “It’s got your nose.” You said as you saw Colson trace down the nose of your child. “So beautiful.”

“You got a name?” You heard someone ask. You didn’t know if it was a nurse or a doctor, and you didn’t really care.

“Cadence Kelly Baker. What do you think?” You asked softly.

Both you and Colson knew the name would come to you on the day, so it was never discussed beforehand. But you knew it was the right name.

“Kelly? Like...” Colson asked, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Yeah, Kelly like Kelly.” You smiled softly, knowing how much it would mean to him.

Colson looked between you and the baby a few times, taken aback. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah Colson, I’m sure. Case and Cade. You like?”

“Like? I love it. I love you and I love our baby and I love our baby’s name.” Colson whispered, placing his forehead again your own.

“Richard Colson Baker, meet Cadence Kelly Baker, your second born.”

“Hey Cade, you really put your mom through a lot, didn’t ya?” Colson laughed. “You are so beautiful and so loved. By us and so many other people. You wanna meet them?” Cadence gurgled, as if responding. “I’m taking that as a yes.”

You laughed and nodded. “It sure is. Call ‘em in. Send Casie in first, though.”

“Alright.” Colson replied softly, placing a kiss on your forehead before walking out. Emma, who had been standing a little bit off to the side, approached you and said her hello’s to the newborn.

“y/n?” You heard Casie’s timid voice from the hospital door.

“Case, come over here. I’ve got someone who’s dying to meet you.” You smiled at her, beckoning her over. She slowly approached and gasped when she saw the baby on your chest.

“Oh my god! It’s so small!” She marvelled. “What’s the name? Dad said we’re matching.” She asked excitedly.

“Almost. I chose Cadence. Case and Cade. You like it?”

“Of course I do. What’s the full name, though?”

“Cadence Kelly Baker.” You replied, swiping your thumb on your baby’s soft cheek.

“Oh no, another Kelly. You sure you can handle that, y/n?” Casie joked.

You and Emma laughed. “Yeah, I think I can. What about you? Think you can handle being a big sister?”

Casie nodded excitedly as her father walked in with his band.

“Everybody, I want you to meet Cadence Kelly Baker.”

-

-

-

@machinegunkelly My baby mama is the strongest person ever. Welcome to the world Cadence Kelly Baker. You are so loved.

[whereisten]

Creature Feature - Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Preview | Taeil blurb

Summary: You work at your family’s 9-5 nighttime theater for the supernatural. Your fling with vampire!Taeyong is just that: a fling.

Pairing: Vampire!Taeyong x female reader

Word Count: 4.9k words

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Smut

Warnings: cursing, attempted suicide mention, death mention, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, penetration, cock warming

Part 3

[8:30 PM]

It was Saturday night. Your parents rewarded you with the weekend off and you caught up on some sleep and did some online shopping. You sat in your apartment in one of the many high rises in Downtown Mystic. You laid on the couch and scrolled through a webtoon on your tablet, kicking your legs like a lovesick schoolgirl. The latest chapter of the webcomic had you gushing. 

Your phone sounded off a text. You didn’t even have to check who it was.

Your parents were back for two weeks now and Yuta’s gifts did not cease. He was sneaky, you had to hand it to him. He somehow always knew when your parents weren’t around to drop things off at your office. It was a good thing he never figured out where you lived.

Day 1 (when your parents came back): The Tiffany necklace

Day 2: a $250 gift card to the Hand and Stone Massage and Facial Spa

Day 3: a Versace safety pin evening dress (he knew your measurements a little too well as it fit you like a glove)

Day 4: Godiva chocolate covered strawberries delivered to you every night before you left for work

…..It made your head spin to even go to Day 14. 

You didn’t use any of Yuta’s gift’s (except for the strawberries because those couldn’t go to waste and you planned to start up a payment plan with him when you kindly rejected him...AGAIN). 

Every time you tried to approach Yuta, though, you were always pulled in another direction by an employee at work. You were everyone’s go-to woman. Their emotional support only daughter. You couldn’t catch a break.

To hell with it, when you got back to work on Monday night, you would ignore everyone for 10 minutes and they would just have to accept it. You would find Yuta when he “stopped by to meet a friend” like he has for the past two weeks. 

Taeyong wasn’t around much either. You met up only a couple of times to French kiss like it was a contact sport but conveniently neither of you had time to be disappointed when you had to part. You both had lives to live. Separately. 

So, there you were, on Saturday night, feeling antsy with nothing to do now that you had to wait for the next chapter of True Beauty to update next week. You weren’t used to being free on a Saturday. It was a weird feeling. To no avail, you called up a couple of friends to see if they were down to go clubbing. You were always the designated driver so you thought they would jump at the chance to avoid paying for a Lyft. 

Alcohol only had a temporary effect on your body: hence, the dream designated driver. 99% human. You wished there was a name for the type of creature you were. Your parents were adamant that you were a human but you knew you stood out from the rest of that population. Your parents were never particularly fond of talking about your family history either so that did wonders for your anxiety.

Age 16

“But mom, how is that I can sense things? The other day at CVS I got change back from the cashier and I knew he wasn’t human. How does that make sense?” I asked.

“You were kissed by an angel, sweetheart. You were blessed with all sorts of quirky gifts. But you are a human: the purest of all of the creatures. Well, below angels. But we’re pretty close.” She replied, winking. I inherited humility from her, apparently.

Now that you were getting older...you were starting to have doubts about this whole “kissed by an angel” business. Why didn’t your mom have any of your abilities? It just didn’t add up. 

You could only hold on to the things you knew: you could understand any creature, you could identify any creature in disguise, your cuts from falls healed very quickly, you could manipulate your dreams, your alcohol tolerance was most impressive, and you had a powerful urge to be with a vampire. 

You missed the feel of Taeyong’s elegant fingers tracing against your thighs and moving dangerously close to your heat. His teasing was torturous but you enjoyed every second of it. You found yourself mimicking his movements to yourself and imagining he was there with you. 

You got off on fantasizing Taeyong on top of you on the couch but the euphoria didn’t last long.

You sighed. You felt really stupid for not sharing your phone number with him. 

 🎥

You thought about going to Target for the hell of it since you never had a chance to go. Your unusual schedule would usually lead you to groggily shop for groceries at 8 in the morning once in a while. You were elated to go at nighttime and kill a couple of hours browsing.

You chose to go makeup free and in an old university tee and yoga pants. It felt good not give a fuck about how you looked for a night. 

You headed over to Target and made a beeline for the Starbucks to get a frappuccino. You haven’t had one of them in months and you were close to the point of tears when you tasted the whipped cream again .

You moaned in happiness. “Yes.”

“I’ve heard that before,” a voice came from behind you. 

You jumped at hearing Taeyong’s voice. “AH!’

Taeyong chuckled when you turned around. “Stop! I could’ve dropped my frap.”

He was in a loose-fitting white tee and black jeans. They looked affordable but you knew that was not the case. He took the straw and drank some of your drink. “I would’ve bought you another one.”

You rolled your eyes. “Very charming. What are you doing here?” 

“It’s nice to see you, too, y/n,” he said, pecking your cheek and caressing it. 

You sighed. “Do you live around here?” This Target was down the street from your place. 

He shook his head. “I’ve been on the lookout for a video game for Doyoung. I’ve been to two Targets already.” Doyoung was one of Taeyong’s vampire pals. 

You frowned. “You should’ve called ahead and asked if they had it in stock.”

Taeyong’s eyes grew. “I did not realize that was an option.”

You laughed. “It’s cool. If you want, we can go to all of the Targets across town until we find Doyoung’s game.”

He smiled. “I’d like that.”

The third time was the charm as Taeyong found Doyoung’s game: Princess Peach & Pals 2. You high fived each other when you checked it out.

Taeyong asked, “I didn’t see you at Sinema yesterday. Are you okay?” 

You took his hand and squeezed it. “Got the weekend off.”

Taeyong looked happier than you did when your parents told you. “I’m glad. You really needed it.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s kind of weird not having any plans or someone knocking at my door asking for help with the claw machine.”

He chuckled because he helped you fix the claw machine a couple of times. “So you’re free, then?”

“Yup. Why? What were you thinking?”

He stepped back and wrapped his arms around you from behind. “Spend the night with me.”

You restrained yourself from yelling yes a hundred times. “Okay.”

Taeyong led you to the parking lot. He approached his motorcycle, a 2018 Suzuki. You stopped. How could you forget that he rode a motorcycle.

“y/n?” Taeyong asked as he pulled out two helmets. 

“You know what, how about I just take a Lyft over to your place? Gives you time to hide your snacks and your blood bags.” You avoided his stare.

He frowned. “Why?”

“I’m...I don’t do motorcycles.” You hugged yourself. 

You were scared, Taeyong realized. He never wanted you to be afraid. He tried his best to see to it that you would feel safe without him. He never wanted to cross a line that you drew. He thought the only way he could scare you was if he bit you. 

He thought wrong. 

“I’ll go slow, I promise,” he said as he hugged you again. 

You mumbled against his chest. “I don’t know…”

“You can trust me. I don’t live that far from here. It’ll be ten minutes, tops.”

You knew your fear was over-the-top but you couldn’t help it. So many maniacs were on the road. You could barely keep it together in your Corolla. But you were curious. You wanted to push the fear aside and be a little reckless. Taeyong wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Regardless of what your parents told you, vampires were strong and they protected their own. Taeyong regarded you as an equal. He’s said it multiple times. You were his friend and he would take care of you.

So what the hell?

“Okay,” you said, steadying your voice. 

He helped you secure your helmet. He did the same for himself. He got onto the bike. He nodded for you to get on. You wrapped your arms tightly around his abdomen. It was rock solid and you could feel his heartbeat accelerate. 

“Hey. Don’t let me distract you,” you teased.

He chuckled. “Even when you’re not around, love.”

You smacked his arm. “You’re so annoying.”

He laughed. “You ready?”

“Let’s go,” you said as you squeezed him tighter.

Taeyong enjoyed this more than you will ever know. He started up the bike and you moved at a decent speed out of the parking lot. Your heart rate was deceiving you and you knew Taeyong could feel it, too. 

You just let yourself feel what you felt and hoped that excitement would take over. And it did. 

When you got onto the main road, you cheered and laughed. You let yourself be free. For all of your life, you liked to think you had some freedom. At the root of it all, you were stuck in a lot of ways: family obligations, your career, and who you could marry, to name a few. But in this moment with Taeyong, you’ve never felt freer. 

🎥

Taeyong purchased one of the properties at a luxurious oceanfront hotel, Hotel La Mar. He lived on the top floor. 

“Make yourself at home,” he said. “I’m going to wash up.”

You marveled at the spacious apartment. The furniture was leather and the floor was a plush carpet. You could envision yourself curling on the floor. That’s how cozy the space felt.

The living room had a plasma screen TV with shelves and shelves of movies: everything you could think of.

Huh, a movie theater employee human hybrid (?) with a cinephile vampire lord. An interesting concept, you thought. You kept exploring and noticed that there weren’t many photographs around the space. There was one of Taeyong posing in front of the Eiffel Tower at night. Bold of him to break the rules overseas, you giggled to yourself. Another frame contained a visibly older photo. It was a picture of Taeyong and who you assumed were his family: his parents and his sister. You wondered when this was taken.

“1985,” Taeyong answered into your ear, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise.

You yelped.

He took the photo frame into his hands so you both could admire it. “This is my family. My mom, my dad, and my older sister Chaewon.”

1985? Taeyong looked exactly the same as he did in that picture. That must have been around the time he became a vampire, you thought.

“I turned a year after that,” he said. You noted the hesitance in his voice.

“Oh,” you said.

“When I was a human, I fell in love with a vampire.”

“Oh, so we’re going there...”

Taeyong took you out to the balcony so you could watch the night sky over the ocean.

“We don’t have to talk about it-“ He started.

“Are you kidding me?” You’ve been dying for more intel on this man.

He smiled amusingly at you. You were so curious and open with him. You were precious to him.

“I met Cleo when I was 22...She was older than me. I didn’t realize at the time just how much older. I worked at my father’s dojo over the summer after I graduated from college. I was going to get my master’s in architecture. I had everything going for me. I dated a few girls in college but I didn’t find someone I wanted to settle down with. I was...a bit of a hopeless romantic.”

Still are, you thought to yourself.

“I was closing the dojo one night when a couple of thugs broke in to rob the place. They were in the process of beating me to a pulp when Cleo and her friends came in and...took care of them.”

You understood that to mean they were sucked dry.

“She told me she’d been watching me for a while and didn’t know how to introduce herself. So that night was as good a time as any. I was shocked to see vampires for the first time. Once upon a time, the world you see every day at Sinema was a fairy tale for me.”

You figured as much. Not all vampires were born as vampires.

“But I couldn’t get Cleo out of my mind so soon I fell into that world. Never looking back.”

And that’s when you heard the regret in his voice.

“Cleo paraded me all over the supernatural parts of the country. She would take me to clubs. Introduce me to her friends. I moved in with her not even a month after we met. The first time she drank my blood...I didn’t expect the emotions to be so strong.”

The alarm bells rang off in your head.

“I was all hers after that, y/n. She bewitched me. I was at her beck and call. Nothing else mattered but how I could please her.”

You could see the pain in his eyes and how he avoided looking at you.

“That’s why...” You started.

Taeyong continued, “I can’t do that to you. It’s not worth the risk. My escorts? Those human women visited witches to give them the resistance from falling under a vampire’s spell. An attraction can grow, sure, but the intense devotion a human feels to a vampire is taboo now. Vampires don’t want to deal with what they would call collateral damage after having one night of unadulterated pleasure.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your heart hurt for the man before you. It wasn’t his fault that he was under Cleo’s spell. She manipulated him.

“But every now and then, a vampire just won’t care,” he said.

Which means this kind of abuse still went on to this day, you realized.

“After the first bite, I begged Cleo for more. She offered to do me one better and asked for me to join her on her travels around the world: as her vampire prince. Her words. Not mine.”

Taeyong sighed and rolled his eyes. “Looking back on it, it was bullshit. But the human me was...singing from the rooftops. I idolized that woman. She was the key to my happiness. I would follow her to the ends of the earth. And that I did.”

You thought about his family and his life.

“I was a vampire. I couldn’t live my human life anymore. I was devoted to Cleo and that was all that mattered. I gave up on my master’s. I told my parents I was getting married, traveling the world, and didn’t plan on coming back. I was mad at them, y/n. They told me I was a fool for throwing away my future for a woman who sucked me in and would spit me back out. I hated that they doubted me but even more that they doubted Cleo.”

“So you left...”

“I did and it didn’t take long for me to realize that my parents were right. I loved her unconditionally, knowing full well that she was preying on other humans like me, building an empire...well, a harem would be a more accurate term. Soon, I realized I was no longer her favorite and it was eating me up from the inside. I...couldn’t take it so I-“

You felt a sense of dread at what he was about to say next.

”I never even considered the possibility that I could end my addiction to her. I just thought of the quickest way to put me out of my misery. I planned to stab myself in the chest.”

You put your hand to your mouth. “Taeyong...I-“

He squeezed your hand. “It’s okay.”

“It’s a lot...Remembering your darkest days...I don’t want you to feel pressured to tell me everything,” you added as you traced your fingers against his knuckles.

He shook his head. “I want to share this with you.” His brown eyes shifted into bright a shade of blue, suddenly.

“Taeyong, your eyes...”

“They’re blue, aren’t they?”

“Yes but why?”

“I’ll explain. Someone saved me the day I wanted to end it all. Jaejoong. Jaejoong...is like a father to me. He talked me down and helped extract Cleo’s latches off of me. And with that, my memories of her were gone. The witch who helped us with this process was able to conserve pieces of my memories and I only had the nerve to access them recently...After I met you.”

“Taeyong...”

“I wanted to know why I couldn’t let myself bite you. Something inside me was holding me back. I wanted to drink from you so badly but you weren’t an escort. I knew the rules. About the damage that could be caused. But I wanted to understand the nagging feeling at the back of my mind. And accessing those memories again...my eyes turn blue as I reflect on the darkest time in my life.”

“Oh, Taeyong...” You sat curled up against him and held him tightly. “I’m so sorry.”

Taeyong tucked some of your hair back so he can cup your face. “Thank you for listening to me. I thought you would be running for the hills by now.”

“Everyone has their dark past. Granted, mine consists of a crappy ex-boyfriend but my point is that I really appreciate you telling me about yourself. I didn’t expect that.”

Taeyong sighed. “You know, the arrangement we have...”

“Yeah?”

“I like it. But...” He stared out at the sea.

“Go on,” you said as you kissed his neck.

“I don’t want to be just friends with you,” he almost whispered. You were close enough to his lips to hear every syllable clearly.

“I know...”

“You do?” He looked down at you as you played around with the fabric of his tee.

“You told me everything...Basically. I don’t think you did it without an agenda,” you said as you removed yourself off of him and looked into his eyes.

He rubbed his hands against your legs, wishing you’d worn shorts so he can feel your soft skin heat up at his touch. “What do you think?”

You were about to respond when his hands ran up to your butt and he squeezed it. “I...I think we’re ready to move up another level.”

He smiled. “Really?”

Before he went for your butt again, you got yourself up and straddled him. “Really.”

You kissed him deeply, begging his tongue to meet yours. Taeyong quickly reciprocated.

He cupped your face again. “You are so beautiful.”

“I know you mean that,” you said, realizing you looked like a struggling college student in your getup. He really liked you. He wouldn’t avoid your stare. He was happy.

The blue in his eyes vanished and it was back to his warm dreamy brown.

“You okay?” You asked.

“Never better,” he said as you pulled you closer to him. He always embraced you like it was his last time.

He was indeed a hopeless romantic.

“So...” You couldn’t get Cleo out of your mind, though. You wondered what she looked like and how she seduced Taeyong. At one point, Taeyong was in love with her without the enchantment of a vampire. You couldn’t help but wonder if he ever compared you to her. And just how much he remembered after the memory wipe. “Where is Cleo now?”

He cleared his throat. “She’s dead.”

There was a sense of dread again at the pit of your stomach. “How did she die?” You sat beside him again.

“Jaejoong...finished her,” he continued.

“...How?”

“When Cleo found out I had defected to another clan, she was furious,” he said.

“She came after you?” You asked, shocked she would care so much.

“It’s not that she cared,” he answered your thoughts again without realizing it. “It was a matter of pride for her. I was her property. And Jaejoong took it away from her.” That infuriated you.

Taeyong continued, “Jaejoong hid me away from her for a year. So I wouldn’t be tempted to go back to her. Even if her influence escaped me, she could easily lure me in again. I was weak, starved for love. For anything I could get from her after I left everything behind.”

“Taeyong...”

“In 1987, Jaejoong and Cleo faced off. She perished from a wooden bullet shot to the heart.”

You still had so much you wanted to ask. “How do you know she’s gone?” You blurted. You didn’t have a lot of remorse for the death of this woman, you understood.

He met your gaze. “Jaejoong brought me to her body.”

You waited for him to continue.

He said, “And we burned it, making sure no trace of her remained.”

He worried that you would see him differently upon hearing this.

But you understood. She was a monster that preyed upon innocent people and played with them like dispensable toys. You hated that someone could be so vile and tinker with the heart of the man you...

Liked.

“Wow,” you said, meekly.

“I know,” he said, “Jaejoong took in the lost boys of her clan and helped them become independent. Like he did with me. Now we pledge our loyalty to him.”

You wondered if Jaejoong was really as heroic of a man as Taeyong made him out to be.

🎥

You sat with Taeyong in the kitchen. You took some cake mix out from your shopping tote and asked him if you could bake it. “Mind if I use your kitchen?”

“Depends. What flavor is the cake?”

“Red velvet,” you answered.

“Only if I can lick the spoon,” he said as he helped pull out all of the supplies and ingredients.

As you mixed the cake mix with the other ingredients, Taeyong watched you.

You were something else. After telling you some of his darkest memories, you didn’t run off. You didn’t doubt him. You stayed. And for that, he would be eternally thankful.

“You can lick the spoon now,” you sang.

Taeyong creeped up from behind you, dipped his finger into the bowl, scooped some of the batter and ran it across your neck. You stood still.

He moved his finger dangerously slow across your neck and his tongue followed even more slowly behind. You moaned at his delicate touch.

“It tastes pretty good,” he whispered. You could feel his cock grow against your leg.

Taeyong held you from behind as you finished putting the mix into a pan. You laughed at how he clung to you like a koala.

The cake would take about half an hour to bake, which meant...

“Lead the way, Taeyong,” you said.

He scooped you up and he bolted to his bedroom. You laughed.

He tossed you on the plush California king bed and nearly pounced on top of you. You yelled and giggled like you were playing tag.

He kissed you hard as he laid against the bed frame. You pulled his shirt off. He did the same. You surprised him then.

“Where’s your bra?” He asked.

“I took it off when I went to the bathroom. I thought you noticed and that’s why we’re here now.”

“I mean, your nipples looked...”

You pulled him closer. “How do they look?” You lowered your voice.

“Pretty,” he said as he kissed you again. You pulled down his pants and cock greeted you.

Taeyong stood up on the bed as you kneeled down to greet his gorgeous length.

You grasped it hard and Taeyong grunted. “Does it feel good, baby?” You asked.

“Yes, love,” he said as he ran his fingers against your hair.

You took his length into your mouth and moved slowly back and forth, enjoying the taste of precum in your mouth and the sound of Taeyong’s moans. His length tickled the back of your throat. The discomfort was mild but you liked giving him blow jobs. So with practice, the pain became pleasure. You were getting wet at the thought of pleasuring him now.

“Feel me,” you said as you moved your eyes down to your panties. Taeyong put his hands down there and gently placed two fingers inside of you. He moaned again as you sucked faster.

You wanted Taeyong to know that you weren’t there to play with his heart. That was never what you wanted. You wanted to get to know him. And you didn’t want to keep lying to yourself. You were all in. And somehow, you would find a way to make it work.

Taeyong tugged tightly at your hair as he was on the verge of his climax. The thought of his climax aroused you ever further and felt the vibrations deep down in your belly. When he came, you found yourself soaked from him and yourself. You lathered up his cum. You fingered yourself and gave him a taste of your essence. You took all of his cum in and dragged your tongue up to his abdomen and met his lips. You kissed him.

He hugged you and wiped the sweat off of your forehead. “I love you.”

You exhaled like you held your breath for a long time. “I love you, too.”

He laid you down so he could pleasure you. He kissed you again and ran his hands up your thighs and forced them open. You gasped.

He greedily lathered up your cum. “You are exquisite.” He began running his index finger in and out of your clit. You started rocking back and forth.

He tsked. “Stay still, angel. Or I’m going to stop.”

You whined. “Meanie.”

He laughed his deep laugh and just the sound of that made you moan.

His unoccupied hand gripped your thigh tightly, squeezed your ass, and caressed you face. He liked watching you come undone under him. It kept awake sometimes when he was home alone.

He continued to finger you and you mewled when he inserted two fingers. You felt yourself building up again. You couldn’t help but rock back and forth. You wanted to climax.

“Taeyong, please,” you begged.

He smiled as he removed his fingers.

You whined even more. “Evil overlord, please.”

He pecked your lips. “Your wish is my command.”

He quickly inserted his cock and it hit you hard that you cried out. The pain quickly became pleasure as you both moved back and forth.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed. “I fucking love you.”

“I...love...you...” You managed to get out until you both released.

You both went for two more rounds before passing out on the bed. He held you as he covered you under the sheets. The timer went off for the cake.

You were about to get up but Taeyong pulled you back.

“It’ll cool. It’s okay. Just stay with me,” he said as he snuggled up against you.

“You’re so clingy,” you said as you laid your back against his front. He spooned you. His cock was in your ass. You’d wanted to do this with him for a while.

Taeyong was beaming. You were beside him now and neither of you was in a rush to leave. You could take your time and enjoy each other.

He moaned against your neck. “Are you hungry, though?”

You laughed. “I’m good.”

So you laid beside each other as the sun rose and slept for hours.

🎥

You stayed asleep but Taeyong’s phone rang. He slowly got up from bed and covered you with the sheets. You frowned in your sleep like you unconsciously knew he left your side. He laughed quietly as he took his phone off the nightstand.

He walked out of the room so as not to disturb you.

“Hey Jaejoong, how was South Africa?” He asked.

His leader chuckled over the phone. “Beautiful. The great white sharks were incredible. You have to come with me next time.”

“Are you back in the country?” Taeyong asked excitedly. Jaejoong was gone for a while on his travels.

“Yes. I landed today in Mystic.”

Taeyong replied, “That’s great. You have to come over for dinner. I’ll make your favorite chicken parm and you can drop off all of the souvenirs you bought for me.”

Jaejoong laughed. “I hope a keychain won’t disappoint you. How about I come over tonight? There’s something I wanted to talk about with you.” You noticed the shift in his tone.

“Is everything okay?” Taeyong asked.

“Yeah...They’ll be even better soon enough,” Jaejoong said.

To Be Continued in Part 4

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 11: The Rush]

Chapter summary: Queen and Y/N attend a party and experiment with hallucinogens.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, drugs, partying, injuries, sexual references, angst, some baby stuff.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @killer-queen-xo​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​ @herewegoagainniall​ @stardust-killer-queen​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

“You’re trying to make us late, aren’t you?”

Roger looms in the doorway of the hotel bathroom, arms crossed, a baiting ghost of a smile on his lips. His eyes—blue like a summer sky, like blooming delphiniums, like veins beneath skin—trace you from your black heels to your dangling diamond earrings, feasting, craving.

You smile back at him as you rearrange your hair for the fourth time. “The later we are, the drunker everyone else will be and the less agonizing small talk I’ll be forced to make with random music industry people.”

“I can assure you, they’re already drunk.”

“I don’t want to get there before the boys.” Freddie and Brian had left the hotel earlier to pregame in the bars of the French Quarter, and John is...actually, you don’t know where John is at the moment, which is unusual.

Roger chuckles, lights a cigarette, takes a deep drag as he gazes at you. “Come on, baby. You’re not getting any more stunning. It’s not possible. And you don’t want Deaks to be the first one to get there, do you? Can you imagine? He’ll end up telling his life story to the golden retriever or locking himself in a closet or something. We can’t abandon him.”

“No, of course not.” You give your reflection one final appraising glance. It’s not bad: sleek black dress, black Prada bag with a thin diamond-studded shoulder strap, smokey eyes, spritzes of Chanel No. 5. It’s pretty freaking great, actually.

Roger nods to your purse. “You got your kit, Nurse Nightingale?”

“Naturally. You think I trust eccentric and impaired musicians not to do gymnastics down a staircase or punch out misbehaving fellow guests? Oh no. Not a chance. I come well prepared.”

“Good.” Reflexively, unconsciously, he shakes his right arm a few times, stretches the hand, winces. It hurts him all the time, and you know that even if he’ll never say it. He drinks more or less constantly when Queen is on tour, and pops pills on top of that. You can’t ask him to stop; he can’t play without the booze and pills, and he can’t live without the band. He wouldn’t even want to try.

“Roger, is it—”

“I’m fine.” His eyes are on you again, everywhere, soaking up every curve and crevice like rain seeping through parched earth. Dusty ashes trickle from his cigarette onto the white tile floor.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he says, meditative in a way that is quiet and still and very unlike Roger. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “How much I love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

New Orleans is cool and humid and the streetlights shine beneath the constellations of the night sky: Auriga, Cassiopeia, Ursa Minor, Orion, Perseus. The salt-tinged dampness in the air sticks to your bare forearms, your ankles, your collarbones, your cheeks; the chaotic ocean wind rolls in off the Gulf of Mexico. It’s February 14th of 1977, Valentine’s Day, a day you’ve always thought of as a sort of anniversary for you and Roger; not the day you told him yes, but the day you surrendered to the eventuality, the day you agreed to fall in love with the world he promised you.

Is surrender the right word? you wonder, because part of you doesn’t like it, part of you flinches like you’ve been hit. Yes, it is. Whether I like it or not.

You’ve never spoken of anniversaries to Roger. He’s never asked.

The mansion, a Southern-style manor with columns and fountains in the front yard, is raucous with music and trimmed with twinkling white lights; there are dozens of people—men in suits, women in gowns, strippers, drag queens, mistresses, wives, acrobats, magicians, drug dealers—mingling on the wrap-around porch, sipping drinks, shouting at each other over the music, snatching appetizers off platters that waiters balance on their shoulders as they weave from one end of the house to the other. You and Roger swim through the crowd towards Brian’s mass of dark curls and Freddie’s brash laughter that carries through the night air like smoke signals.

Some man in a lavender suit—a producer or manager or record company executive—is talking to Freddie and Brian with a cigar smoldering between his fingers. “...And it’s extraordinary, really, this new album, everyone’s talking about what a success the tour has been so far. What’s it called again?”

“A Day At The Races,” Brian offers matter-of-factly, as if he’s in a business meeting.

“Ah, that’s it!”

“What’s so interesting,” Bri continues, “is that this time around the audience has started really getting into it, singing along to almost every song, sometimes we can’t even hear ourselves! And at first we were a bit annoyed by it—”

Freddie adds: “We were thinking, ‘shut up, bitches, you paid to hear us sing!’”

“—But then we realized that we should be appreciating that enthusiasm, that maybe we could even figure out a way to harness that energy and write songs with the audience’s participation in mind.”

“Fascinating!” Lavender Suit Guy replies.

“Good evening, everyone!” Roger announces as he sails into the middle of the conversation. “Hey man, how are you? Enjoying yourself? Have you met Y/N? Yes, she’s a Yankee just like you, from Boston originally, and she can cure hangovers like nobody’s business so she’s incredibly handy to have around. Have you heard the new Eagles record yet? Jesus christ, it’s bloody brilliant...”

As they chatter, you scan the pulsing throng of strangers for John. After a moment—as Freddie is recounting the band’s escapades in Miami last week—he appears wearing a black leather jacket and hair that barely covers his ears.

“Deaky!” Fred gasps.

“John!” you squeal in delight, and he grins enormously as he wraps you in a hug. He smells like cigarettes and Manhattans and that verdant, ancient mystery of the American South.

“Hi,” he says sheepishly.

“Your hair...?!” You reach up to run your hands through it, to flip his bangs one way and then the other, to tug gently on the ends. “I’m in shock. Good shock, but definitely shock.”

“Yeah, some American girl told me once that I had good bone structure and should chop my hair off someday so people could appreciate it.”

“Hmm, who could that be?” Roger teases, turning to you.

“I believe I described the aforementioned bone structure as fantastic, not good, but close enough.” You can’t stop staring at John. You blink a few times, waiting for it to sink in. Instead, something feels unnerving in a way you can’t pin down: new, different, anomalous, inviting.

“You’ve all gone shorter, haven’t you?” Lavender Suit Guy remarks. “Well...except Brian, of course.”

“He had much shorter hair once, if you can believe it,” Freddie says. “Back in the very early days. Before John joined us. Bri would straighten it too, it was horrid, the poor man looked like a Lhasa Apso.”

“You have a new baby at home, don’t you?” Lavender Suit Guy asks John.

“I do, yes, my second. A wonderful little girl named Anna.”

“Congratulations! And Brian, you’ve got one on the way as well?”

Brian smiles proudly. “Two, actually.” Chrissie has curbed her comments concerning Veronica’s dreadfully banal, domestic, decidedly unposh existence now that Chris is bedridden with morning sickness and carrying twins. ‘I feel like the fucking Hindenburg,’ she’d told you over the phone. ‘If the Hindenburg had sore tits and smelled like vomit.’

“We’re drowning in babies,” Roger quips in a tone you can’t quite read. Annoyance? Curiosity? Disapproval? Envy?

“Well, since the wives are away and you’re free to play...” Lavender Suit Guy flags down a waiter holding a small tray of sugar cubes. “Ever dropped acid? There’s blow floating around somewhere too, if that’s more your scene.”

Brian smirks uneasily and stirs his Vesper. You look to John. John looks to Roger.

Freddie laughs and lifts a sugar cube daintily off the tray with his thumb and index finger. “Marvelous, darling! Will it make me hallucinate all my wildest dreams? Will an imaginary cheerleading squad of Farrah Fawcetts suck my cock all night?”

Lavender Suit Guy chuckles. “I make no guarantees.”

“Nothing in life ever does. Isn’t that tragic?” Freddie pops the sugar cube into his mouth and grins. “Beam me up, Scotty.”

Roger asks you: “You want to? It could be an adventure.”

LSD wasn’t exactly the adventure you’d had in mind when you agreed to follow Queen across the globe all those years ago in Boston; still, an adventure is an adventure. And if I don’t keep things interesting, he’ll find someone who will.

Oh, that’s not a thought you knew you had.

And I would like to return it to that repressed, dimly-lit, cobwebbed corner of my subconscious where I’d buried it, thank you very much.

“Is it safe?” John asks Lavender Suit Guy.

“Do you think I’d give you something that wasn’t safe? It’s perfectly safe. It can’t kill you. It’s not heroin. Worst case scenario you get a bad trip. And I’ve never gotten a bad trip from this stuff.”

You conjure up a smile for Roger. “Let’s do it.”

“Excellent,” he says, his face lighting up; and you realize that that’s what he’d wanted. He picks up a sugar cube, lays it on his tongue, and then slips it between your lips as he kisses you. Freddie whistles and claps. The cube dissolves with a pleasant, innocent, nostalgic sweetness. Then Roger turns to John. “You in, Deaks?”

John hesitates, then nods. “Alright.”

Roger passes John a sugar cube (with his hand this time), picks up one for himself, and toasts them like champagne glasses. “Cheers!” The sugar cubes disappear behind their teeth.

Freddie stares at Brian. Brian gnaws his lip and stares back. Freddie wiggles his eyebrows impishly. Finally, Bri sighs, exasperated. “Fine, okay, what the hell, I’ll do it.”

“I’m so proud!” Freddie cries, pressing his palm to his heart. “I am a proud mama.” Brian grimaces as Fred stuffs a sugar cube into his mouth.

“How long does it take to work?” you ask Lavender Suit Guy, feeling no different at all.

“It varies. Not too long, usually.” He whirls, spies someone else he recognizes, waves, and rushes off to greet whoever it is and presumably offer them illegal drugs.

After fifteen disappointingly uneventful minutes of trailing behind the band as they chat with various rich and famous party guests you don’t recognize, you depart to find a restroom.

“Don’t be gone long,” Rog calls after you. John watches with a Manhattan in his right hand. “I don’t want you to be alone if things get...you know...weird.”

“Sure thing.”

You find a small restroom just off the downstairs hallway of the mansion. The clock above the doorframe reads 9:47 p.m. You duck inside, muttering about your first acid experience being a total dud, about defective LSD and Valentine’s Days spent with strangers. As you scrub your hands with rose-scented soap, you glance up to check your makeup in the mirror. Your face isn’t there. Instead, Dominique Beyrand stares back at you.

You gasp, and Dom does too, in that delicate and prodigiously feminine way that she has. You peer penetratingly into the mirror as you gingerly tap your fingertips against your face, which is Dominique’s face now: her olive skin, her high pump cheeks, her large dark eyes like a doe’s, her pink lips. You experiment with a smile, and then a frown; you even emote the same way she does, with a charming candidness, with a rare sort of grace.

Why am I thinking about Dominique?

You’d seen her a few times since Queen’s Hyde Park concert, following Richard Branson around at industry parties and dodging mindless gossip and tedious networking, the same as you. She always greeted Freddie warmly and mostly ignored Roger. He always asked her a few questions anyway, questions you thought he already knew the answers to.

I guess the acid wasn’t a dud after all.

You titter uncertainly. You knot your fingers through your hair—Dominique’s hair—which is thick and glossy and onyx. Her eyes gaze unflinchingly back at you. They blink when you blink.

I have to find Roger, you think suddenly. I don’t know where he is. I don’t know who he’s with.

You spin, wrench open the restroom door, and stagger out into the hallway, your hands pressed against the floral wallpaper to steady yourself. The yellowed, antebellum walls breathe as you do, subtly, sighing as they exhale cool air into the soft clammy skin of your palms. The boards of the hardwood floor clang like piano keys when you step on them. You check the clock hanging above the bathroom door. It reads: 11:09 p.m.

“Uh oh.”

I have to find Roger.

You creep through the hallway as other guests pass you—some zooming by, others moving in slow motion as if they’re treading water, none apparently noticing the breathing walls or musical floor—peeking into each room to see if Roger is there. He’s not in the living room, the kitchen, the dining room, the parlor. Instead there are strangers in all of these places, laughing in each other’s arms, drinking, dancing, touching each other beneath suits and skirts and dresses, smoking cigarettes and blunts, rolling up hundred-dollar bills to snort white powder off silver trays like mirrors.

I have to find Roger. I have to find Roger. I have to find Roger.

In the backyard of the mansion is a cobblestone patio, a garden, a swimming pool which must be freezing but nevertheless has several naked guests thrashing around splashing each other in it, and a bubbling hot tub. You recognize one of the two people in the cloud of mist with their arms resting above the roiling water on the concrete rim. They’re giggling and pointing up at the stars, telling the stories of the constellations, their faces flushed and glistening with steam.

“Hi, Brian!” you cry, relieved.

He turns, sees you, summons a smile; but it’s not a true smile. It’s cagey, it’s dissatisfied, it’s nervous somehow. “Ah, there you are, love.” The girl sitting next to him in the sweltering water is very much his type and entirely unlike Chrissie: tall, slim, blonde, curly-haired. She has a tattoo of a lush, pristine peach on one tanned shoulder blade.

“Have you seen Roger?”

Brian’s brow furrows. “He didn’t find you?”

“Evidently, he did not.”

“Huh. Well, I’m sure he’s around.” Brian waits for you to leave. The blonde girl shoots you a polite but anxious smile. Peaches, you think hazily. Peaches from New Orleans. Just like the girl he told me about when I first arrived in London. Just like the girl in Now I’m Here.

“Bri, come inside with me.”

“I’m fine here,” he replies curtly.

“Bri, please. It’s late. It’s cold. We’re so far from home. There could be sharks.”

Peaches gawps at me, confounded. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Brian snorts. “Sharks can only live in cool water. Everybody knows that. We’re perfectly safe. Stay out of the pool though.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.”

“Good luck locating Roger.” That’s your cue to go.

“Come with me. I’m freaked out. The floor sounds like Somebody To Love.”

“That’s nothing. The bubbles in here play Beatles songs when they pop.”

“Brian...”

“Y/N,” he says harshly, darkly. “Go find Roger.” What he means is: Y/N, get lost.

What about your wife? you almost shriek at him. What about your children? What about those vows that you made three days before Christmas in 1975, the specter of global fame beckoning from the doorway of the Anglican church that Chrissie grew up attending, Roger’s arm tight around my waist and sprigs of holly in my hair?

But Brian already knows about all that, and he doesn’t care.

I have to find Roger.

You leave Brian and Peaches and slip back into the mansion. You search each room as the floorboards shift and chime beneath your feet; now they’re playing the intro to Seven Seas Of Rhye. You realize that you’ve lost your heels somewhere along the way. You aren’t terribly concerned; you have more pressing matters to attend to.

Behind the fourth door you open is a library with books and menacing portraits lining the walls. Everything inside is blue and wibbly and palpably sad. Freddie is slumped on the floor next to a grand piano, his hair in his face, each hand clutching a full champagne flute.

“Darling,” he slurs, thrusting a glass towards you. Fizzy champagne lurches over the edge and trickles down the side of the glass. “Come join me!”

“Is it the LSD or is the room actually that color? I feel like I’m trapped in Picasso’s Blue Period.”

“Do you? It’s all black and white to me. But blue fits. Welcome to my melancholy room.”

“Your melancholy blues,” you pitch with a grin.

Freddie chuckles. “Drink this champagne before I’m forced to pour it down your throat.”

You take the flute and sit on the floor beside him. “Have you seen Roger?”

“I have not.”

“Oh.”

“Darling,” Freddie asks drowsily. “Do you think one goes to hell for being gay?”

“I don’t think you’d go to hell for anything, Fred. You’re too good a person.”

“Ahhhh,” he sighs, dreamily, peacefully. “You are a delight, my dear. Truly. I adore having you around. I do hope you stay with us, even when Roger makes you want to kill yourself.”

“How would he do that, Fred?” you ask softly.

Freddie doesn’t answer. Instead, he lifts your hair away from your face, tucks it behind your ear, smiles patiently at you. “I tried to warn you, you know. We all did. I know you thought we were all being insufferable pricks. But we did it out of love.”

“John never tried to warn me.”

Freddie smirks. “Well. He’s got his own demons, doesn’t he?”

You aren’t sure what Freddie means. You down the champagne and climb unsteadily to your feet. “I have to go find Roger now.”

“Of course you do.” Freddie’s umber eyes flick to the ceiling. “Good god, there are birds up there. That is not sanitary. Leave the door open when you go so they can fly away, would you dear?”

“Okay. I’ll love you no matter who you are, Freddie. We all will. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Thank you, darling.”

“Will you come with me? Will you help me? I’m worried about Roger.”

“You should be more worried about you.” Freddie waves goodbye. “I have to stay. I’m writing songs.”

“You don’t have a paper and pen, Fred. Do you need them?”

He grins and pokes his temple with a black fingernail. “It’s all up here.”

“Okay. See you around.”

“Au revoir,” Freddie replies, and closes his eyes as he leans back against a breathing wall.

You step out into the hallway and journey towards the main staircase. Someone has put on the new Eagles record; Hotel California rocks deafeningly through the mansion. The air quivers with slow, ghostly notes strummed on an acoustic guitar. The floorboards have abandoned their piano keys and now jolt with each drumbeat. The house has taken on a shadowy, violet hue.

“There she stood in the doorway

I heard the mission bell

And I was thinking to myself

This could be heaven or this could be hell...”

You clutch the banister as you ascend, studying each guest that passes you for a familiar face. There are none. They’re all blushing and glassy-eyed and cackling as they paw at each other, ignoring you, not seeing you at all. Emerald snakes dart between their rushing feet, forked tongues tasting the lust and impending amnesia in the air. What happens in the darkness tonight will be forgotten tomorrow. It has to be. All the world’s rules and obligations depend upon it.

“Her mind is Tiffany-twisted

She got the Mercedes Benz

She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys

That she calls friends

How they dance in the courtyard

Sweet summer sweat

Some dance to remember

Some dance to forget...”

You catch your reflection in the night-draped window halfway up the staircase. You’re you again, not Dominique. Part of you is comforted by that; part of you feels more alone than ever. You stare at yourself, beautiful, extravagant, dusted with jewels and luck. You have everything. You have nothing. You continue up the staircase.

“Mirrors on the ceiling

The pink champagne on ice

And she said, ‘We are all just prisoners here of our own device’

And in the master's chambers

They gathered for the feast

They stab it with their steely knives

But they just can't kill the beast...”

A woman in a shimmering scarlet dress is sitting on the top step and taking a drag off a cigarette excruciatingly slowly. She exhales, the smoke curling out of her red lips like tentacles, her pale eyes tracking you.

“Last thing I remember

I was running for the door

I had to find the passage back

To the place I was before

‘Relax,’ said the night man

‘We are programmed to receive

You can check out any time you like

But you can never leave.’”

You summit the staircase and peer down the hallway to your right. At the end of it is a vast, broken picture window. Cold night wind pours in through the jagged hole in the glass; you can see stars outside. A man is lying on the floor next to the window. You know him.

“John!” you shout, and sprint to his side.

“Hi.” He’s cradling his right arm to his chest. His knuckles are shredded and drenched in crimson blood. Incandescent shards of glass protrude from his hand and glint under the lights. There’s a heavy, coppery, sick-sweet scent in the air.

“John, honey, why would you attack an innocent window...?”

“It wasn’t so innocent. You should have heard what the bastard said to me.”

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up—”

“Stop,” he hisses when you try to touch him.

“John—”

“No!” he screams, pushing your hands away. “Stop it, just leave me, just fucking leave me!”

You step back, cross your arms over your chest, raise your eyebrows impatiently. “You want to tell me who you’re really so mad at?”

He frowns down at the rug, which is streaked with his blood. “Me, I guess.”

“Well you can be mad at yourself at the hospital.”

“No, no hospital,” he insists.

“Your hand is positively mangled. Your playing hand. You need to get it cleaned out.”

“You can fix it. No one else.”

“Since I’m tripping on acid, I probably shouldn’t be the one to fish glass shards out of your skin.”

“You can fix it,” he repeats, confidently now.

“Fine. Have it your way.” You help John to his feet, lead him downstairs, and sit him down at the kitchen table. You open your purse, unpack your supplies and position them in a neat row, shake out your hands to get them limber, give John a glass of water. “Are you going to have to write whoever owns this place a check for the window?”

“No one knows I’m the one who did it. No one even knows who I am.”

“I know who you are, John. Here comes the lidocaine.” You land a series of injections into the flesh surrounding his wrist, his knuckles, the back of his hand. You pause each time you get distracted by the murmurings of the table, which apparently speaks German. Okay table, this is important, kindly shut the hell up. Danke.

“Ow,” John says lethargically.

“And so what if these people don’t know who you are? Who the fuck needs them? You don’t need anyone who doesn’t know you’re the backbone of this band. Who made the Deaky Amp? Who wrote You’re My Best Friend? Who stays focused and calmly waits for the others to stop bludgeoning each other on a nearly daily basis? John fucking Deacon, that’s who.”

“Yeah. Alright,” John agrees, smiling. “Who needs them.”

“You’re gonna get your moment in the sun, don’t you worry.” You pick up your tweezers and begin plucking slivers of glass out of John’s bloody hand, plinking each into a white ceramic bowl. “Everyone is going to know you one day. You’re gonna spread your wings and write a ton of hits and unforgettable basslines and show the world what a genius you are.”

“Sounds thrilling. I’ll see what I can do.” He gazes down at his hand. “It doesn’t hurt at all now, that’s incredible.”

“That’s the magic of modern medicine.” You drop another shard of glass into the bowl. “How’s your first-ever LSD experience going so far?”

“Aside from the window business, quite well. Better now that you showed up.”

“Sorry. I spent an hour being confused by my own reflection and then tried to find Roger. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

“I have not.”

After a while you set your tweezers down on the table and inspect John’s hand closely. “Does this look glass-free to you? My eyes aren’t super trustworthy at the moment. I just saw a fish swim by outside.”

“It looks perfect, in my layperson’s opinion.”

“Okay. Let’s wash and sanitize, then we’ll wrap...”

John follows you placidly to the sink, lets you scrub and towel off his hand, returns to the table so you can bandage it with gauze. It’s quieter in the house now, the guests slowly dispersing, the music turned down and something mellow by the Stones; Gimme Shelter, you think.

“What made you so angry?” you ask him. “You know. Angry enough to assault a window.”

For a long time, John doesn’t answer. He looks up at the ceiling, his gentle greyish eyes chasing something you can’t see; birds, maybe, like Freddie. Maybe he’s looking for the sun. Maybe he’s looking for himself. Finally, he says, very quietly: “I’m just so fucking tired of lying all the time.”

“You never have to lie to me, John.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I do.”

Then you hear a laugh, an untamed one, a familiar one. You turn to John. “Was that just me or...?”

“I heard it too.”

You both leap from the table and hurry after the sound. You burst outside onto the cobblestone patio. Roger is doing backstroke laps in the pool, howling up at the moon. There’s no sign of Brian or Peaches.

“Roger!” you yell.

“Hey, baby! I’m winning! I’m in the Olympics! I made the team! Do you see me winning?”

“You’re totally winning. Please come out before you get pneumonia or attacked by a shark.”

“Shark...?” John inquires.

“I’ve discovered something amazing,” Roger declares, still swimming. He flails his right arm in the air for you to see; the serrated mark that mars the underside appears to be slithering, a snake made of scar tissue and interrupted plans. “When you’re on drugs, nothing hurts!”

“Baby, please come out now.”

Roger obliges, hauling himself up the ladder and out of the pool. He’s still in his black suit; it’s ruined and clings to him and is dripping buckets of chlorine-smelling water. John yanks a towel off a chair and tosses it to Roger, who drapes it over his shoulders like a cape.

“Jesus christ, where have you been?!” you demand. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

Roger grins toothily. “A sheer one?”

Despite yourself, you smile back. “Oh yeah. A sheer heart attack. Real cardiac.”

“I had the best idea. Baby, you gotta hear my great idea. It’s so great.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

He lunges to wrap you in a cold, sopping hug. “Everyone’s having babies, right?”

“Uh, well, not everyone...”

“We should have a baby.”

John’s eyes go wide. You swallow noisily. “Roger, love, I don’t think right now is the ideal time to make a decision like that.”

“Why...? Oh. Right.”

“Yeah.”

“If I still feel this way in forty-eight hours, can we have a baby?”

“Roger, I...” You glance to John for help. He raises his hands in surrender, one bare, one clumsily bandaged. You’re on your own, kid, that look says. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. That’s a lot of responsibility. I’d have to stay home with them. I wouldn’t be the tour nurse anymore.” I would never know where you were, who you were with.

“I’ll fly you out to visit all the time. I’ll have to. I can’t do this without you.” His eyes—blue like frigid pool water, like bruises, like dreams—are euphoric, effervescent.

I can’t say no to him, you realize, and it sends a biting shudder up the rungs of your spine. I didn’t just fall in love. I took a fucking nosedive.  

Oh, this SO did not go according to plan.

You remember when you first met Queen, how independent and fearless and guarded you had been, how forcefully you had resolved not to put your happiness in a pair of wild, reckless hands like Roger’s.

What happened to that girl? How do I get her back?

And there’s something else, too: a thought you barely recognize as your own. A child would make us permanent.

John is watching you, edgy, apprehensive; but he doesn’t say anything.

“Okay,” you tell Roger. “We can try. If you still feel this way in forty-eight hours.”

“And I will.” Roger’s teeth skate up your neck and he whispers, his breath hot against the goosebumps rising on your skin: “Let me know when you’re late.”

[just-a-8th-dreamer]

Sun and Moon | Poly Hyewon

Request : “Can I request for some poly Hyewon? 🥺💕 scenario or anything, as long as it's them uwu 💗“

While you were waiting for your suitcase at the airport, you could already feel your heart racing in anticipation. You were in Los Angeles to see your two wonders, your two marvelous girlfriends. Since they were in the US to meet their international fans and perfom during KCON, you hadn’t seen them for few weeks and you had missed them a lot. They were always calling you when they could (Chaewon couldn’t forget this habit) and texting you till late at night but you needed more. You needed them. You were all completing eachother and you couldn’t deny that they were a part of you. 

The thing is, even when you were all laying on the bed, cuddling eachother, your three hearts were beating at the same rythm, building a peaceful and unbreakable cocoon around all of you. It was the three of you against the world and nothing could change that. Hyejoo was the one who watched over it. No one could hurt her two girls or try to separate her from both you and Chaewon. No one could break what you had and If someone tried, she would be quick to shut them down and protect to all costs your relationship. On the other side, Chaewon was the one who tried to keep the balance in your relationship and always reassure Hyejoo. The dark haired girl had an overprotective side and the fact she worked with Chaewon was calming her down but for you, It was different. When It came to you, she would always turn into her tough mode because she couldn’t control what was happening. You were the one with that joyful personality and Hyejoo knew that lots of people liked to talk to you at work, making her blood boil. Chaewon was there, like a referee in football games, taking Hyejoo in her arms, trying to make her understand that nothing was happening to you and that you would never leave them. Hyejoo was the most insecure and her love for both of you was so strong that she easily felt vulnerable when she was separated from you or Chaewon.

That’s why you had a fight with her two days ago and your blonde girlfriend had tried her best to ease the tensions between the both of you but this time, Hyejoo’s anger was too violent to disappear. You fought because, as a professionnal dancer, you had to teach some moves to your trainees and Hyejoo didn’t like the fact that you had stayed late at your work to help one of them that day. Overprotective, she couldn’t stand the idea that someone were spending sometime alone with one of the love of her life. But this was one of her way to show her love. Chaewon was as jealous as Hyejoo, even worse sometimes, but she would never show it. Never except this time. 

“Please understand Hyejoo” she had told you when you were on the phone with her two days ago. “We are far from you, Y/n. We can’t see you, we can’t hold you before sleeping or in the morning. We can’t defend you If someone tries to flirt with you and we are scared of loosing you because we are powerless here...Being far from you makes me sad and makes Hyejoo tensed.”

What she had said to you had made you think all night long and you had decided to surprise them on the other side of the world because your heart couldn’t take it anymore. You needed them by your side. 

And here you were, smiling like a fool in the taxi that were bringing you to their hotel. During the drive, you couldn’t take your eyes off the colorful streets of the city of angels and the early californian sun was making your heart feel warm. You had lived here for five years before going to Korea to teach dance and this american oxygen made you feel ecstatic. You were already excited to see your two wonderful girls but you wanted even more to share the beauty of the californian landscape with them. You came back to reality thanks to your phone and noticed you had a message from Hyejoo. You hadn’t talk to her since your fight and couldn’t help but smile in front of the wolf emoji on your screen, next to her name.

We miss you. It’s the morning here and today, we have some free time. I would like to go to places you went when you lived here. Chaewon is wearing your hoodie every night. She says it makes her feel like both of us were holding her. I wish you could be with us right now. Sleep well, baby. 

Your lips turned into a broad smile but you didn’t reply, your taxi parking in front of the hotel. You quickly took your suitcase before coming into the building. You went to the third floor and when the elevator doors opened, you were greeted by Jiwoo and Sooyoung’s smiles, as expected. They were your secret card for the surprise you prepared, telling you where they were and when you could come. You felt instantly hugged by four arms and Jiwoo couldn’t contain her excitment, jumping on the spot because she knew her friends who felt down were going to be filled with happiness. The other Loona members were in the corridor, all of them except your favorite ones and Haseul appeared in front of you.

“We are going to the amusement park near the beach so If you want to come with us later, you can text me anytime” she told you with a broad smile. “Enjoy your time with your two monsters and don’t let Hyejoo kill anyone”

She gave you a playful look before leaving with the others, Jiwoo giving you a last joyful hug before following her members. Blessed by their love and happiness, you felt warm but you suddenly remembered why you were here and your heart started to beat faster. You couldn’t contain your smile when you knocked at your girlfriends’ room door and your heart almost exploded in your chest when you saw your favorite blonde in the world.

“Don’t open Chae, I’m still naked !” you heard Hyejoo’s voice shout from the bathroom. “I swear to god If It’s Sooyoung again, I will grab a knife”

But your other girlfriend didn’t reply, frozen in front of your sight. Her eyes looked like a deer who saw some lights and you couldn’t help but laugh happily in front of her legendary facial expression when she was surprised. As If you didn’t know her, you were taken aback by her pure and delicate beauty. Her blond locks were falling on her soulders, revealing her wonderful doll’s face and her caramel eyes. She was wearing an elegant white top with cute denim shorts and a flower crown on her head, and you could tell that this californian style on her was leaving you speechless. She was holding your hoodie against her chest and you felt your heart melt because of her gesture. You were not the only one who were craving their presence.

When Chaewon came back to reality, she crashed into your arms, saying your name softly and you held her tightly.

“Please don’t cry or I will too, princess”. you whispered, feeling her sobs against the crook of your neck while you were stroking her hair.

“But you were so far from us” she only said, hiding her tears while you were holding yours. “It was too long”

You kissed her forehead, telling your angel you were here now and suddenly, Hyejoo appeared in the middle of the room. She was dressed in black ripped denim shorts with a moutarde crop top and a washed black denim jacket, the one you bought her. The second part of your heart almost bursted and when you crossed her intense gaze, you could feel the tension between the two of you. She stayed still for a few seconds, watching you as If she was processing what was happening and even If her eyes were cold, you could see a luminous spark in her eyes. She was looking at you from your feet to your head as If she was checking everything was okay and you could see her jaw clenching.

“Baby” you started but your voice cracked, your eyes full of tears that were starting to fall on your cheeks.

She shook her head and came closer with a determined approach, crashing into your arms, next to Chaewon who pulled her closer as If she wanted the three of you to make an only one person. You let both of them leaning against you, balancing their wheights with your strength as they were letting their emotions explode against your heart. Hyejoo was the only one who wasn’t crying, holding her tears in her eyes as she was holding harshly your jacket in a desperate gesture, trying not to be overwhelmed by all her emotions.

“Couldn’t you tell us you were coming” she growled against your chest.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise If I had told you” you replied with a smile, drying your tears.

“How did you find where we were ?” asked Chaewon, pulling away a little to look at you with heart eyes while Hyejoo was drying her tears with her thumb.

You were about to reply but when you crossed Hyejoo’s eyes, she laughed a little while all the three of you started to hold eachother hands.

“Sooyoung and Jiwoo” she answered with a low voice and you could see her happiness in her dark eyes.

You felt suddenly Hyejoo’s arms around you and Chaewon, pulling both of you closer, against her own chest.

“My turn” she ordered softly, kissing your forehead.

You felt relieved in your girlfriends arms, feeling Chaewon’s hand in your hair and Hyejoo’s warmth around you. You were craving their touch. You couldn’t feel filled without their bodies against yours. It was like wolves’ instinct, you needed your pack with you. Anytime, anywhere. And here you were, with the two love of your life, full of alleviation like a butterfly in Its cocoon.

______________________________________________________________

Santa Monica had always been one of your favorite place in L.A. Especially because you could enjoy the californian vibes better there, near the beach and the amusement park on the pier. You were walking next to the sand, Chaewon’s arm in yours, Hyejoo a little futher ahead from both of you, trying to skate with your longboard you had brought in your luggage. A memory from your west coast’s life.

“You know If she falls, you might never see your board again” giggled Chaewon, squeezing your forearm.

“I know but If she falls, she might start pouting and acting like the baby she is, wanting us to take care of her” you sneered. “I am ready to take the risk”

Hearing Chaewon’s laughter was a melody to your hears and her shining smile made your heart race.

“You’re really the smartest” she told you before resting her head on your shoulder, still walking, while Hyejoo was coming back.

She noticed both of you were smiling and she furrowed her eyebrows.

“What are you two planning ?” she asked, pretending to be suspicious.

Chaewon shook her head with excitment before kissing her cheek quickly and running to the candy seller while you were waiting for her.

“She is really happy” whispered Hyejoo, taking your hand in hers, your board under her other arm. “So am I”

Her voice was low and you knew she really meant all of her words with that soft tone. 

“Baby” you told her but she squeezed your hand.

“I’m sorry about what I said during our fight” she continued. “I felt so desperate without you, I couldn’t control my anger”

You nodded, giving her a smile and drowning into her wolf gaze. She was so beautiful in the sunlight, her dark hair revealing her red so kissable lips. How could you be with two pieces of art ?

“You are always mad when I’m gone” you declared, teasing her a little and she was fighting a smile.

“You are ours, Y/n, that’s all” she told you, her face becoming serious. “We can’t live without you, I won’t let that happen”

Your felt butterflies flying in your stomach and you blushed because of her deep voice while she was saying those words. Hyejoo brought your hand to her mouth, kissing each one of your knuckles, her eyes in yours.

“I couldn’t wait anymore” you admitted while Chaewon was coming back with a pineapple granita. “I was lost without both of my princesses”

Chaewon’s lips turned into a broad smile, her eyes shining in front of your confession and her cheeks turning pink. Hyejoo sneered, giving you one of her wonderdul amused grin.

“You”re flirting” she said and you could tell she was shy about it, her ears redening. “I’m not a princess though”

“Of course you are, a dark one but still a princess” you replied with a laugh.

Hyejoo raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms, ready to debate. Suddenly, Chaewon, coming out her quiet mood, took the dark haired girl’s hat off her head before putting it on you. She then placed her flower crown on Hyejoo’s hair, tilted her head with impatience.

“Well you are a princess now” she told her, sighing playfully. “Can we eat now ?”

Both you and Hyejoo bursted in laughter in front of the queen’s order and she offered you to taste the drink. When you saw Chaewon’s grimace after taking a sip, you weren’t confident but you wouldn’t say no to the prettiest blonde in the world. As expected, It was really sour and you pinched your lips, your tongue trying to accomodate to the taste. You gave Chaewon a look full of complicity, both of you watching carefully at Hyejoo’s reaction. But she didn’t react at all, keeping her legendary emotionless face and the blonde next to you widened her eyes.

“Come on, stop pretending to be badass” you laughed, hitting softly Hyejoo’s shoulder, Chaewon imitating you. “It’s too sour to stay still”

“You both are too sensitive, that’s all” Hyejoo replied, shrugging. “And if you want to hit me, at least do it with your lips” she added with a low voice.

There was a game between the three of you : making the others shy by flirting or teasing them. You were one of the best player but Hyejoo won this time ; you and Chaewon were flustered. Both of you blushed and the girl with triangle shaped mouth ran a hand in her pretty hair, before grinning victoriously. You felt your heart pounding against your chest because of the sight in front of you. Chaewon and Hyejoo fighting playfully, their hair flying thanks to the soft wind and their beauty overwhelming the horizons. If you could have drawn the scene, you would have. They were your happiness. You couldn’t dream for better. And they were making each moment of your life filled with love and joy. The blonde girl with her elegant laughter, the dark haired girl with her deep gaze. The older girl with her girly attitude and the younger with her bad girl expression. Chaewon and her sudden amounts of excitment, coming from nowhere. Hyejoo and her secret adoration for cuddling activities. Chaewon and her mom side, Hyejoo and her baby side. Your heart was beating for them. They were all you wanted. All you needed. Your sun and moon. You had what you had never imagine you could have. That’s why ou couldn’t stay quiet in front of them.

“I love you”, you let out, a little smile on your lips.

Your girlfriends instantly froze and turned to you, their eyes shining and looking at you lovingly. They always had told you that they loved you and you never really return the words except when you were texting them. Hearing those words from you made them feel as If their chests were to tiny for their hearts. The words were so meaningful for you and they could feel It. They were speechless, looking at you as If you were a treasure before coming into your arms.

“My two wonders” you whispered. “Have you lost your tongues ?” you added, laughing a little.

“Fine, you won” replied Hyejoo, her face against one side of your neck while Chaewon was against the other. “Stop ruining this moment now, Y/n-ahh”

[voletapril02]

The Doctor Will See You Now

Summary: You are an established artist living in New York. You just got out of a breakup when you physically collide with a handsome doctor that saves you from almost getting hit by a car. ever since then your electric connection is undeniable. But will it be enough to withstand the trouble that could be lurking just around the corner?

Warnings: Head injury, car accident, suggestive conversation

 Pairings: Chris Evans X Reader, Y/N X Chris Evans

 Word Count: 1,525

 ** Loosely Edited/ Proofread**

 **This is my first fic so please be kind. I plan on making this a series**

 **The photos are not mine**

      You had just left you’re the gallery where you were going to have a show in the next few weeks. Ever since you left your fiance Evan  you had been in a rut with your work and you didn’t want to be the girl who focused everything around a bad breakup. Since that wasn't what it was, Evan was everything you had ever wanted and when he asked you to marry him you felt like everything in life was finally coming together.

You had moved to New York for your work causing the both of you to test  you relationship  and it almost dint work out. But when he moved here from Seattle where you were from you felt like you too were finally able to start a life together. But a few months after you got engaged and everything was going good Evan got a letter from a girl he used to date a year before the two of you met. She wrote him saying that she had gotten pregnant when they were together but she didn't find out until they broke up and by then he had already moved to Seattle and she didn't want to interrupt his life. When Evan let you read the letter it was as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of your lungs. It was your idea for the two of you to break up. You had grown up without a father and you didn't want that for this baby. In your mind he had already gone a year without a father and that was long enough. Evan wanted to go back to long distance but you told him he needed to go and be with his child and figure out what he wanted and he owed it to his child to be there fully. It broke your heart when he left but you knew it was the right decision. At first you texted here and there until you stopped responding because it was too painful.

 It had been a year now and you were finally able to get your life on track again. When you're in a love like the one you and Evan shared it's hard to untangle them from your life in order to find out who you are again without them. That's why this art show was so important for you since it was more than just a new art series, it was the beginning of a new you. As you walked down the street about a block away from the gallery you were looking through your purse on your shoulder not paying attention to where you were going when you heard a loud car horn before you felt like you had been hit by a bull causing you to fall down on the pavement hitting your head.

  "Miss-" a voice echoed in your ears

Your head was pounding and your vision was blurry from your fall, the sun beating down on you didn't help the situation either. You could see what looked like a small crowd of people crowded around you except they all looked smashed together in one big blob.

"Can you hear me?" the voice continued

Moaning in slight pain as your eyes shuttered open you were finally able to focus your vision enough to see the figure that the voice belonged to.

"There you are" the man said and punctuated the statement with a soft smile.

Finally fully coming to you looked at him and you were taken back at just how handsome he was. He was the kind of beautiful that woman only bumped into on the train in movies or the  guy that you pine over your whole life but never actually talk to.

"Are you okay?" he asked while he held what looked like a mini flash light in front of your face checking your eyes. It was also now that you realized that those blobs were not blobs at all but they were concerned strangers with their phones recording this marvel of a man while he gave you an impromptu exam. He saw you looking at everyone filming and ogling at you when he stood and spoke to the people.

" Everyone thank you so much for your help but she is in good hands in a doctor so I can handle everything from here. Thank you so much, now lets give her some space please. Thank you so much" he said while smiling an and humbling looking everyone in the eyes. The crowd of people smiled and waved to you. Some giving you best wishes and others getting one final photo before they walked away. He looked around and saw a corner store with a chair outside. He reached down and took your hand and lifted you to your feet in one swoop. When you reached your feet your legs didn't get the memo that they were on the job now so you almost fell again when he caught you.

"I got you" he said sweetly whiled he helped you over to the chair. Each step helped to awaken your legs.

"What happened?" you asked while looking at him kneeling in front of you.

"You speak English?" he questioned

You gave him a confused look as if to ask him why he thought that.

"You just never spoke and you looked really confused when I spoke to you"

You smiled slightly before speaking " That might have had something to do with me being mildly concussed, but you're the doctor here so.."

Laughing he shook his head at you

"Good to know you sense of humor wasn't knocked a loose, but to answer your question on what happened. I was walking when I looked up and saw you walking and there was a car headed you're way so I ran over and tackled you, thus being the reason you are mildly concussed as you so expertly put it."

   You were shocked, the thought that you could have been hurt or killed if it hadn't been for him was scary but you were grateful nonetheless.

" I don't even know what to say, thank you so much. I mean what are the chances that you would get to me in time and you just so happen to be a doctor I mean that's such a blessing"

 he helped you up and handed you your bag that had started this mess in the first place.

" I don't know how to repay you, I have money or I can buy you something-" you rambled as you looked around for solutions to your problem.

He cut you off while shaking his head "No no no that won't be necessary I promise, I'm just glad you're okay"

" Please It would make me feel so much better if I was able to do something" you stopped for a second thinking when it dawned on you

 " I've got it, I'm actually an artist so I could make you something. A custom piece"

 Looking at him you could tell he was about to turn you down. You grabbed his forearm and looked at him tilting your head slightly in order to meet you gaze

"Before you say no, just say yes" you pleaded innocently

He looked at you with that million dollar smile  and nodded his head slowly. You lit up knowing that your negotiating had actually worked out.

" Thank you, I appreciate you letting me do this. Okay so we'll meet for lunch and you can tell me what you want"

"you know you really don't have to go through all this trouble if you want to go on a date with me. I'm sure there are less painful ways to go about it" giving you a smirk and sent shivers all over your body

You were speechless from how forward he was being. You hadn't been flirted with properly since you broke up with Evan. At first you wee gonna shy away but that wasn't you.

" Oh I'm sorry you must have hit your head at some point as well. Because if my memory serves me correctly you're the one you tackled me to the ground"

You could tell he was looking for a witty comeback but he just couldn't find one.

"Touché"

This made you both erupt in laughter. You then pulled out your business card that your manager forced you to make. You always thought they were too flashy giving how relaxed your profession was.

" Okay so here's my number and we can schedule a meeting so we can work out just exactly how you want me to express my gratitude"

The double meaning was no lost on you but it had been so long since you had seen a man like him that you just couldn't help but mess with him a little bit.

" I can already think of a couple" he retorted while smirking at you.

"Well I'll be happy to see what you come up with"

With that you both went your separate ways, knowing that you wouldn't be able to get him out of your mind. It was only then that you realized you never even got his name.

[cara-terra-pace]

Rich Neighbors Au Part 3: Bye Bye Miss Parisian Pie

Part 1 Part 2 The Gabrieling Procrastination Art Rich Neighbors Vine Animatic

-Oh my watermelon kids

-they are finally in America!!!

-First stop: Trash City!

-oops sorry NYC, sorry, they just sound the same when I say them out loud so I get them confused sometimes :)

-(I’m kidding New Yorkers don’t kill me please)

-okay, okay, getting off topic.

-so they’re in New York

-they’re just kind of wandering and they end up running into the Elmos.

-Mari was almost pulled into a hug with one and Felix had to drag her out of the way, saving her from the creep

-they then immediately booked it to a restaurant, hoping that would give them a bit of a reprieve.

-Hard Rock Cafe was the one they picked, Nino’s choice, obviously.

-Marinette gushed over the mini milkshakes for like ten minutes.

-someone ended up recognizing them. They took a picture, posted it on twitter and now BOOM

-every single one of their fans and customers know exactly where they are.

-but ANYWAY

-they’re in nyc, why not go to a broadway show?

-Six. They go to see Six. Don’t @ me, I like six and I thought Marinette and Nino would both enjoy it

-Mari is LIVING for their outfits.

-Nino is also loving every minute.

-They’re in the front and Nino is basically grinning the whole show but during Heart of Stone you can see him tear up a bit.

-Felix actually enjoys it. He shoves all the thoughts of historical inaccuracies out of his head and mostly just listens to Mari ramble about the outfits.

-Adrien vibes with Seymour honestly. And Parr. And basically all the queens.

-Nathalie likes the show too, mostly because it’s a nice break for her and the songs are pretty catchy too

-for Mega Six, Mari is filming and all the queens look directly into her camera

-they also take it and dance on stage with her phone, filming everything

-Mari is about to faint. Doesn’t matter that she’s technically famous, she is DEAD

-they don’t see her face when they take and give back the phone so when she comes backstage afterwards with the gang, at first they just recognize her hair and see her as the girl who was filming the Mega Six

-then they see her face and the costume designer is trying so hard not to squeal, oblivious to the fact that she’s doing the exact same thing.

-Mari is absolutely gushing to them about how great the show was

-She tells Parr that her song was what kept her going in school, since she’s listened to the Broadway and West End soundtracks about a billion times. (Pretend like the broadway one is already out time is a construct with rich people)

-side note, they post the pictures and video and suddenly A BUNCH of Six fans are now following Mari and now Mari is designing outfits inspired by the queens because AH THE COSTUMES ARE GORGEOUS I COULD TALK ABOUT THEM FOR DAYS I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

-fun fact, they are all wearing a “If Found, Please Return to Nathalie” shirt

-Felix is adorable and bought Mari some hair pins with watermelons because Watermelon Kids

-yes Nathalie has a shirt that says “I’m Nathalie”

-they actually did lose Adrien and these two girls were able to return him to Nathalie and they all took a pic with them and followed the two on Twitter

-they don’t know what else to do in New York, so they just make their way down to...

-New Jersey!

-Seaside Boardwalk!!

-they mostly stick to the arcades, Mari sticking to casino pier, and them getting fries and lemonade as a snack.

-they spend the night at the boardwalk, going on a few rides like Moby Dick, and Pirate’s Cove.

-they spend the night at a house of a friend of Tom Dupain’s and the next day, they go to the Ocean County mall because it was close to the house.

-Adrien complained a bit about going to “the least cool mall in the state” but stopped when he found a five below at the plaza.

-five below is his weakness.

-mall, fun, yada yada yada

-bath and body works is inside? Mari’s in heaven.

-Friendly’s for lunch! Ice cream all around my friends!

-that afternoon they go to laser tag and completely dominated.

-Twins on one team, Watermelon Kids on the other.

-for some reason (the reason is called because I said so) they decide to go down to another boardwalk further south.

-on the way they go to lobster house for lunch (lobster house is amazing I don’t even really like it for the food it’s just the VIBES. they are. immaculate.)

-they go to Wildwood and ohhh

-Nino and Adrien are living it up on the rides

-rollercoaster, log flume, submarine ride slash game thingy!

-they’re doing it all

-and Felix and Mari are being so cute and domestic winning each other things at the games

-and then the arcade, where Felix is hopeless at Skeeball and ends up slipping and Mari helps him up while trying not to laugh

-can I just say that I think Mari is probably really good at claw machines?

-she has some weird sort of luck when she’s playing and she’ll always end up winning a prize

-they spend the night at a cute little hotel and the next day they go mini golfing

-now this is where Felix for some reason shines

-Mari keeps losing her golf ball and having to go search for it

-Adrien and Nino are both mediocre at it.

-Adrien got a hole in one and he and Nino screamed and Nino picked him up and spun him around

-they also got ice cream at said mini golf place

-Khor’s is just...*chefs kiss*. They all got the orange and vanilla swirl because I said so and it’s a Khor’s classic

-Felix picks an Italian place for dinner that night. It’s called Little Italy and it’s pretty good.

-and, that’s a wrap for New Jersey! Next...

-alllll the way down to.... North Carolina!

-they spend only a day in North Carolina, but they do go to these caves.

-and also, this place with food that’s mainly made of... alligator?

-basically, it’s a rest day.

-Mari gets SUPER inspired and buys fabric to make a jacket inspired by the caves and honestly it’s gorgeous because she used not only the tan of the rocks, but the beautiful blues of the water.

-NATHALIE BREAK

-she’s so tired but she’s having so much fun with her boys!!!

-she actually feels pretty well rested a few days into the trip.

-Nathalie can’t help but fuss over the kids

-and coo at their cuteness when they do cute things

-She and Mari always share a room

-and the three boys share a room

-Nathalie helps Mari do complicated braids because she’s super good at those and Mari can only do a basic braid.

-next!

-South Carolina!

-specifically Charleston.

-ghost tout ghost tour ghost tour

-“and this is the building where a dude saw the ship that held all his crops sink. He then proceeded to-“

-it gets graphic in that moment and Marinette is having fun but also isn’t a fan of thinking of... uh, head not being on body???

-pirates!!! They go into this cave thingy and see piratey stuff, which is entertaining for everyone because it’s creepy in the cave, which Mari enjoys, PIRATES, which Adrino enjoys, and history for the grumpy Felix

-it’s quiet and everyone’s happy, which Nathalie is living for.

-they mostly just walk around looking at pretty things the next day

-rainbow row rainbow row

-Mari is so inspired that she buys a cheap sketchbook from target just so she can get all these ideas down

-she desperately wants to sew but she has to wait since they don’t have access to a sewing machine.

-so, they eat at a sandwich shop before hitting the road.

-they make a quick stop in Georgia, laugh at a sign that lists the marvel movies made in Georgia, then leave.

-(sorry Georgia. I’m sure you’re a very nice state but I’ve had limited interaction with the state besides passing through and sometimes stopping to eat lunch.)

-this is the thing they’re very excited for!!!

-Florida!

-specifically, Orlando

-that’s right, DISNEY WORLD.

-they are spending a whole week here.

-that’s right, 7 days of fun.

-day 1, animal kingdom because they get there in the afternoon and there isn’t as much they want to see in animal kingdom. They have loads of fun though and are planning on dropping by another day for the first half of the day.

-next day is Magic Kingdom

-they go on so many rides.

-small world is Adrien’s favorite ride, don’t @ me.

-Casey’s Corner is where they get lunch because Mari loves the aesthetic.

-MINNIE EARS ALL AROUND

-Marinette has a different one for every outfit

-Aristocats ears!!!

-she can’t explain why she loves it, she just DOES.

-for their last day (yeah this is out of order but who cares) they park hop, ending in magic kingdom and staying for the fireworks. Our favorite designer wears these lovely light up ears

-when they went to animal kingdom on the first day you KNOW Mari had some cute ears

-shh don’t tell the boys and Nathalie but Felix actually asked Mari to be his girlfriend when they were in Hollywood studios

-they walked off together, and sat on a bench somewhere sharing a snack

-our extra boy asked if she could be his girlfriend with matching beauty and the beast rings

-Mari said yes and she smiled soooo much.

-it’s kind of hard to explain everything so let’s just talk about the interesting stuff!!

-Marinette VIBES with the princesses oh my god

-TIANA INSPIRED OUTFIT PLEASE

-Disney is V fun but... sorry boys, it’s time for Marinette to get some sewing done! (Also I’m kind of bored of writing Disney this took several weeks bc I would write like a sentence a day lol)

-CALIFORNIA TIME

-they do go for one day in Disneyland but most of it’s spent going to get some inspiration for Mari.

-fabric stores fabric stores.

-that girl is sketching and coming up with ideas like her life DEPENDS ON IT

-inspiration explosion

-also some normal Knick knack shopping, so Mari gets some time away from staring down at her tablet and sketchbook.

-resting and just going to try all different sorts of normal, causal restaurants

-living the life

-also, Felix and Mari go on their first date. I say first date Very Loosely because it’s actually them sitting in Mari’s hotel room eating pizza and watching a movie and though they both consider it a date, they want to have a cute, cliche first date when they back home.

-Speaking of home...

-They are about to fly back to Paris when they get a message from Jess, one of the girls who found Adrien in NY.

-It was a message from her asking if she could check her latest tweet.

-it was a recording of Jess playing guitar, the song (an instrumental version of Miraculous but slightly modified) being wonderfully sweet. Aeon, the other girl, was also in the video, humming along to Jess. At the end, Jess dedicated the video the them and they both gushed about how nice they were in person and that both of them had waited until they had the arrangement ready before they posted it on social media.

-it thawed even Felix’s icy heart.

-and as they flew back to Paris, Nathalie couldn’t help but think of what a perfectly wonderful trip it had been. Minus... the accidents.

-But there’s no need to talk about that here.

-They reach Paris safe and sound, and Marinette takes a long, long nap right before she goes into creative mode and sews all the outfits she had sketched. Advantages of being rich, you know? You don’t have to worry about fabric price.

-While Mari was sewing, everyone else was also slowing down.

-And gearing up to go back to school

-*dramatic music*

-What will happen next? Even I have no idea!

.......

It’s almost like.... I exist??? Haha, but seriously, sorry for sort of going MIA??? I finally finished this, mostly by getting lazy towards the end. Yes, before you say it, I don’t hate NYC. It’s cool there, I just love making fun of it and the fact the special cam eout a few days ago is just pure irony. All of those links should work, so you can actually buy the Disney things I’m talking about! If they aren’t, please tell me so I can fix them. Next up is the Nathalie mentioned “Accidents”. That should take way less time because I’m going to go with the tried and true method of “Make stuff up and hope it makes sense”. I say should because you never know with me, I’m a mess ❤️❤️❤️

Tag list: @bigpicklebananatree @kris-pines04 @animegirlweeb @akana-sama @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @virgolioness @goblinwhoships @toastlover21 @buginetye

[softbiker]

Steve Rogers Oneshot

Warnings: some strong language, mention of super soldier butts

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Steve Rogers takes a coffee break. It’s good to try new things.

A/N: This is a continuation of Extra Whip - so I recommend reading that first in order to be familiar with who the reader is! It takes place in the same universe as @kentuckybarnes​ Agent 28 and @nacho-bucky​ Agent 41, with permission from both :) At the moment, my plan for these two is a series of one shots; connected by characters and certain events, but not a strong overarching plot. Let’s keep it fun okay? (Can’t believe I’m posting this before I’ve had my coffee but hey, I’m excited). Enjoy! 

A month goes by.

In missions, gunpowder grit beneath his fingernails; in Stark Foundation fundraisers, his bowtie digging too tight at his neck; in karaoke nights - and avoiding karaoke nights, sneaking up to the roof with Bucky for a smoke. Somehow the habit crept back in, between the two of them.  Deeper than muscle, it’s a bone memory - shoulders pressed together on a fire escape, nostalgic for nicotine and other things that won’t roll into cigarette papers. No one knows about their little habit, except for maybe Nat - who cares less about their upstanding reputations than everyone else, and she’ll even share a pack every once in a while. Steve marvels at cigarettes now, the way he marvels at everything that should’ve killed him before he became a miracle. 

So February passes. He eases up on Health Food Reform, satisfied that the good habits seem to mostly stick. 41 continues to slurp on her spinach milkshakes during briefings, and it brings out his big brother smile every time. Every time he wonders who might have made it for her. 

March blusters in with excessive force, with the wind whipping storms on every front and a crisis on every continent. For the first two weeks of the month, Steve doesn’t set foot at the compound, shuffling between safe houses and sleeping on the quinjet, his neck aching in complaint. The team forgoes their long-anticipated weekend retreat to Tony’s cabin in Aspen in favor of a terror attack in Johannesburg. 

“Man, I was not made for this kind of heat,” Sam mutters, tugging at the harnesses of his uniform as sweat streams down his neck and into his shirt. 

“You would’ve been in the hot tub in Aspen, anyway,” Clint teases, taking stock of his quiver, his words slurred by the bubblegum in his mouth.

“Yeah, with a couple of snow bunnies, that’s for damn sure,” Sam bites back, shoving his goggles into a side pocket on his tac pants. 

“Focus, Sam,” Steve sighs over the comm. He’s got eyes on them - opposite rooftop, approximately 100 feet above the epicenter of the chaos. “The sooner we wrap this up, the sooner you can sit in a jacuzzi with your rabbits.” 

Tony’s laughter over the comm line is so loud, Nat has to remove her earpiece for a full minute. 

“What?” Steve turns to Nat, bewildered. She’s got a white streak of dust in her hair. “What? What did I say?” 

She just shakes her head, taming the curl of her lips with a click of her tongue.

“Nobody tell him,” Tony insists, his voice still a wheeze. “Jesus, I am gonna hold onto that for weeks. That’s going in the digital scrapbook - F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Already saved the audio file, boss.”

Steve just hangs his head, resigned. No chance of living that one down. 

Hours later, they pile into the quinjet in beleaguered pairs, Clint propped on Sam’s arm, 28 with Natasha - both dusty and bruised but no major injuries, followed by Wanda and 41, with Tony bringing up the rear. Steve takes stock with a keen gaze as they trudge up the ramp into the jet, Buck slouched in the seat beside him, his flesh fingers blackened with gunpowder. More than 10 hours on the ground, with thousands of safe civilian lives to show for it - but no arrests had been made, no suspects found, no bad guys to put away. Not today. A stalemate, which Steve hates. He loathes the ambiguity, the loose ends of this job, the way the world can just never stay safe. 

A knee jostles against his own, and he looks over at Bucky; he’s got one eye cracked open, narrow window on a sky blue gaze peering back at Steve. 

“You good, Rogers?” he mutters, lazily rolling his jaw. 

“Me? Yeah, Buck, I’m fine.”

“Uh huh. Well quit grindin’ your teeth like that.” Bucky sighs and lets his eyes slip closed again. “The one thing your ma never had to fix, those damn perfect teeth.”

It draws a dull, tired smile, just like he intended, and Steve elbows Bucky in the ribs - the two of them exchanging a couple of tired blows, before settling into their seats, pressed against each other shoulder to knee, like they’re still trying to fit in a foxhole. Steve takes a little of Bucky’s weight as he leans over to let 28 pass them and settle into a seat across the aisle, buckling herself in and sending a tired smile their way. 

He accepts a Starkpad from Tony as he passes by on his way to the cockpit. A swipe of the screen reveals a face - a white man, late 40’s, dark hair with white streaks at the front. Nothing noticeable about him otherwise. Beneath the face is a name: Israel Hayes. He stands and stalks his way up the aisle of the jet, careful not to disturb any of his sleeping teammates as he follows Tony. The Iron Man suit dissolving back into the nanite housing unit on his chest, Tony is left only in a soft black shirt and pants - he looks vulnerable, small, when Steve leans into the cockpit, his shoulders crowding the space. 

“This our guy?”

“Seems like it. F.R.I.D.A.Y. cross-referenced his known aliases with similar activities in Europe and Asia - but he’s good. Never shown his face good.”

“Not even on CCTV?” Steve quirks a brow.

Tony shakes his head, lips pursed. “Nope. My guess? He’s got some kind of algorithm like the one SHIELD instituted for our agents in the backseat. You know how we never know what a SHIELD agent looks like?” He gestures towards the passengers with his thumb and Steve nods. “Same thing. As soon as his face is captured on a camera, his server finds it and scrubs it clean.”

“That possible? For someone who’s not SHIELD?”

“If he’s got the connections it seems like he has? Then yeah.” Tony huffs out a breath. “Not that I’m worried - F.R.I.D.A.Y. has found smaller needles in bigger haystacks.” 

Steve just nods, staring at the man’s picture on the tablet in his hands. 

He stares at that tablet for days - at briefings, at the picture, at news headlines, at the picture, at a Buzzfeed article comparing his butt with Sam’s and Bucky’s (sent in a text attachment by Sam, accompanied only by the peach emoji), and once more at the picture. 

He stares at it till he sees the man’s face behind his eyelids, till he could sketch it on a napkin without looking. And he does, actually, by accident - in the margins of his notes during a security briefing with Fury, he glances down to find his fingers tracing the deep set of the man’s eyes, the dark shadow of his brows. Algorithm or no, he won’t be able to hide forever. 

It’s the algorithm he’s thinking of as he continues to take his notes in the meeting, the sketch staring up at him in stark blue pen; there’s another face he wanted to look for, more than once he’d decide to search the SHIELD records, before changing his mind - just opening his browser and poising his fingers to start the search has him feeling like a damn creep. Like the internet stalker in that show Wanda was obsessed with. His ma raised a gentleman - there’s no way he was gonna be that guy.

The next morning, Sam begs off on their run, and Bucky is mysteriously absent from his room when Steve knocks, so he goes for his run alone. It’s not so bad - he’s got a fancy pair of headphones that Tony made last Christmas, and he loves watching the sunrise over the city. He even turns and crosses the bridge into Brooklyn, making a lap through Prospect Park before looping back towards Manhattan. Not so bad. Good, even. Really, really good. 

He slows down and stretches in front of the tower, propping his legs up on the bench out front and massaging his calves. There’s a little bit of a burn, but it melts at the pressure of his fingers, and the pleasant kind of soreness settles in. The kind he’s enjoyed and lived in since his body became sturdy and strong and decidedly anti-fragile - he’ll never say it out loud, but he still gets a little thrill when he manages to break a bone or dislocate a shoulder, goosebumps of pain shooting down his spine as he pops them back into place with a grunt of satisfaction. 

Hand hovering over the biometric scanner, he’s about to go back inside, take the elevator up to his room and hit the showers, when he sees someone at the crosswalk just a block down. 

Pink hoodie - huge, practically a dress - with a denim jacket tugged over it, bare legs trailing down into white combat boots, a backpack slung over one shoulder. She spares little more than a glance at the cars along the street before striding forward, nose turned up and arms crossed in a way that’s so New York it makes him do a double take. That early morning pout, tired eyes, like she’s not totally awake yet. Her steps firm and determined in those heavy boots, she makes a beeline for the green siren across the street, never once glancing his direction. 

It’s the first glimpse he’s had of her in a month. 

Not for lack of trying, but have you seen his schedule? He’s barely been stateside at all for nearly 3 weeks. Not to mention that one of Tony’s interns is always eager to volunteer for a coffee run, and he’s not sure what he would say, a good reason for him to insist to go by himself. 

With a glance at his phone - not due for a meeting for 3 more hours - he takes a deep breath and marches down the street, hands in his pockets, shoulders tucked. Less threatening to the passersby, who notice him, but say nothing. They’re in his neighborhood after all. 

A bell chimes above the door when he walks in, and the same “Welcome to Starbucks!” greets him, but he’s only half-listening as he scans the cafe. She’s at the register, chatting with the barista there who hands her a steaming white mug. 

“Ugh, thanks Chase, you’re a lifesaver,” she sighs, taking a sip. 

“Hey, it’s all part of the job,” the barista jokes back, adjusting the cap on his head. He’s noticed Steve hovering 3 feet back, waiting his turn, and his eyes switch between Steve and the girl in front of him rapidly. 

Their conversation ends, and the girl - the agent - takes her coffee to sit at a small table by herself, close to the windows, far enough back in a corner that she has a view of the whole cafe. Which she scans now as she sits, noting the two regulars in the opposite corner enjoying their customary flat whites, and…Captain America.

Interesting. 

She waits - he knows she’s waiting when he approaches the table, and she pretends not to know that he’s walking directly towards her, nose still tucked down towards her book, one hand poised at the handle of her coffee mug. 

He clears his throat. 

“Good morning,” she smiles when she looks up, the light from the window back-lighting her eyes, and the glow stuns him. “Haven’t seen you around for a while.”

“Haven’t been around,” he shrugs. Are his cheeks hot? He gestures towards the chair across from her. “You mind if I sit?”

“Not at all,” she shakes her head. He slides into the seat and she replaces her bookmark, setting the book aside. Valley of the Dolls. He’s not familiar. 

“Here for your morning Cappuccino?” She quirks her eyebrows as her smile stretches, just shy of goofy. Quite proud of herself. 

“Ha ha. Never been a big fan.”

“No?”

He shakes his head. “First thing in the morning? I like a dark roast. Something to really wake you up, you know?”

“Hm,” she muses. “Sure, I understand.” 

“What about you?” 

“Me?” 

“Your coffee, I mean. You, uh…like coffee?” Smooth, Rogers.

“Oh, yeah. Love coffee.” There’s a laugh behind her smile, and he wishes she wouldn’t hold it back. “Here lately, I’ve had a thing for tall blondes.”

The flush on his cheeks inches down his neck.

“Huh?”

“Tall blonde Americano to be specific - you should try the blonde espresso, it’s really good.” She takes a sip of hers, hiding her dimple behind the mug. “And I always add an extra shot. I like ‘em strong.” 

God, even his ears are red, he knows it. The hell did he think he was gonna do when he came in here anyway, sweep her off her feet? He’s never been that good with dames, not even-

“I’m only joking-” she cracks up a little, giggling. “Sorry, the opportunity was too good, I just couldn’t resist.”

He sighs in relief, offers an embarrassed smile, and manages to relax a little in his chair. 

“So…why are you here? Really?” she lifts an eyebrow, leaning one elbow on the table. 

“Well…” and here it is, here goes nothing. “I thought - that is, I wondered, um, if you…might want to…get to know each other a little better.” Ouch. Thank God Bucky is nowhere near here. 

“Get to know each other?” 

“Yeah. Just, I mean, as friends.” 

“Huh.” 

Steve’s smile is sheepish, but it’s the one that always worked on his mother, and it seems to work on her. He can see the suspicion melt from her eyes, the interested quirk of her mouth as her fingers tap against the table. 

“I’m flattered and all, really, but you should know that virtually everything you could want to ask me about…my past, my qualifications, my education, my current assignment-” she lifts her hands in a helpless gesture. “It’s all classified. Probably above even your clearance.” 

“Classified?”

“There’s a reason why we never met, Captain.” He takes comfort in the fact that her smile is a little rueful. 

“Oh.” He sits back in his chair, a thoughtful frown on his lips. Looks out the window at passing traffic as he thinks. 

“Alright, then - how about a recommendation?” he turns back to her, eyes lit with curious confidence that catches her off guard. 

“A recommendation?” she repeats, bemused. 

“Coffee,” he grins, like it’s obvious, a wry quirk to his brows. 

“Coffee,” she echoes again, chewing her lip as she returns his smile. 

“Yeah - I always get the same thing,” he shrugs, eyes dancing. “Figured maybe I should branch out.”

Something she can tell him. Something they can share. 

A quick glance at her watch - 20 minutes before she has to clock in. 

“Alright then.” She stands from her seat, cracking her knuckles. “You wait here - I’m gonna pop behind the bar and make you something.”

He watches as she crosses the cafe, rounds the bar and gets to work whipping up…something. The steamer hisses as the milk is foamed, espresso grinding, and he can see her reach for some kind of syrup to pump into the cup. It only takes a minute or so before she’s done, returning with the cup presented triumphantly to him. The name “Cap” is scrawled on the front of the cup. 

“What is it?” 

“Just taste it first.”

The burst of caramel sweetness on his tongue nearly makes him gag - it’s a lot, whatever this drink is. It’s practically a dessert. Not bad, but he’s not sure how anyone could drink this in the morning. When he says so, she laughs out loud, head tipping back and mouth wide open. 

“I make those for 41 all the time,” she grins. “It’s not an official menu drink - I invented it for her.”

“Yeah I can see this being her drink.” 

“Oh, and when you go back to the tower, will you take her these?” She hands him a pastry bag. “I know they’re her favorite, and we had some that were about to expire.

He glances in the bag - two cookie dough cake pops and one birthday cake.

“I guess it’s not just Clint that spoils her, huh?” 

Across the table, she just smiles and shrugs. 

“I’m just here to make coffee.”

He takes another sip of the sugary concoction. 

“Sure.” 

[sherlockfanficwriting]

Sherlock “Don’t hurt her”             (x reader)

Summary - You and Sherlock are investigating Culverton and persist him face to face. You find yourself alone, questioning his motives. He’s a dangerous man but has a peculiar twist on words. Are you too naive and end up in danger? Will Sherlock be there to save you?

Warnings - violence, angst

A/N - I have been getting a lot of great requests lately and I love them all! I am quite busy, but I write every day. Please keep sending me requests and I am trying to incorporate more fluff stories too. Your requests won’t be in a story immmediate, but I would say maybe a week or less. :) Please message me if you just want to talk about anything! I am meeting some super kind and marvelous people! I hope you guys enjoy it! @redheaded-hobbit​

You were tired of the whole Culverton scheme. It went on long enough for you. You wanted to kill him yourself. You wanted him to suffer for all those people he murdered. He was smug. He got away with it all the time. He killed your cousin. Your favorite cousin. No one knew but you. It pained you every day. You were full of regret, anger, and it just kept intensifying. Why was Sherlock waiting? You wanted the whole world to see how bad that irritable ma-

Sherlock nudged your arm. You were lying back on his chair, head down, trying to relax when suddenly you went on a vivid imagination of killing Culverton yourself. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. You hated him. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. He sat down across from you, legs crossed. You stood up straight, stretching your arm. You paused. You weren’t okay. Sherlock didn’t know. From the day you met him he hadn’t been able to deduce anything about you, but only a few emotions. 

“I’m fine,” you said, smiling. “Just a bit tired lately.” 

“Have you been sleeping? Eating?” His voice boomed. 

“Y-yeah of course. Really, I’m fine.” You hadn’t remembered the last time you had a good sleep. You were always up, thinking and analyzing cases and criminals. You had always wondered what your life would be like without all this. 

Sherlock smiled. “I’m glad. You haven’t been yourself lately.” 

You sighed. “I’m sorry, Sherlock. I really am. I just needed a break I guess. A mental break.” It was true. You did. 

“I can’t say I don’t need one right now. I would go on a vacation to Germany, like where John is, but I can’t.” 

“Culverton,” you said. 

He nodded his head in agreement. “I’m meeting him tonight. I need to find out more. We’ll take it slowly.” 

You nodded your head but internally disagreed. You weren’t going to let Culverton bask in all his pride. You hadn’t had a plan yet, but you were thinking. You got up from the chair and looked out the window. Dark clouds. No rain. Busy streets. 

Ding 

“Culverton,” Sherlock said. 

You whipped your back around. “What is it?” 

“Meeting him. 1 hour.” 

Your heart picked up. You knew you had to do something. 

“I need to get something in my flat. I’ll meet you there, okay?” You said, rushing to the door, allowing him no time to answer back. Sherlock initially needed you there to inspect the place and his actions and be there for backup. He would do all the talking and investigating, but if he didn’t need you, you wouldn’t be there. You were smart. It was true. Why else would you be friends with Sherlock? You always felt special, but tonight, he was making a mistake. 

Culverton had to be brought down. 

You hopped outside on the curb and waved for a taxi. One came speeding to you and you jumped in. 

“23 Baxter street.” 

The taxi sped away in the crowded streets. After about a five minute drive, it stopped in front of a tall building where your apartment was. You paid the man and hopped out, speed walking to the door. You pulled it open, sprinting up three flights of steps. You unlocked your room door and swung it open. You didn’t have much time to prepare. 

Clothes

You had to be dressed professionally. Nothing amateur, but nothing fancy. You pulled your closet doors open revealing a set of colors ranging from white to beige to the darker colors. You shifted your hands through them, pulling out a long sleeve white blouse and a navy pair of high waisted pants. Loose enough but with a tight fit in case you had to run. You looked down at your shoes and changed to a pair of black flats, ideal for walking. 

You stepped in front of the mirror, examining yourself. You ran your fingers through your hair and rubbed your temples. You hadn’t looked at yourself in the mirror for a while at least not deeply. You had always been beautiful and you loved it, but you looked different. You grew more beautiful. Passion filled your heart, pumping through your veins, only to be fulfilled with the desire of vengeance. It showed itself through your skin, porcelain clear and the natural red tint of your lips. The vengeance didn’t portray itself as negativity, it fueled your inner and outer beauty for your best interest. You smiled. A genuine smile at yourself and took a moment to appreciate your life. 

You wouldn’t let Culverton ruin it, but you wouldn’t let him not change it. You walked back to your closet, putting on a black coat. It was not too heavy, but more light. It was comfortable, but most importantly it held any weapons. You reached deep into the drawers of the dresser in your room and suddenly felt a hard metal. 

Your gun. 

You pulled it out. It was small, but one quick motion of your hand could lead to someone’s demise. You packed it away in your inner coat pocket. Hidden enough, but easy to access. 

Ding 

You pulled your phone out

Sherlock

(Y/N), Culverton isn’t going to meet us until 8. 

You smiled. You suddenly knew your plan. You would finish this once and for all. Revenge was so close you could almost feel it. You burst out the door and down the steps, almost bumping into people coming in and out. You couldn’t contain yourself. You stepped outside, breathing in the fresh city air and called for a taxi. One came speeding. You hopped inside and showed the taxi man a picture of the address. Off you went into the hardest day of your life. 

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

The taxi stopped in front of a large shiny building. It almost intimidated you as you stepped out of the taxi, gazing up, but you remembered the man inside. Evil. You had to end this. You walked inside casually and opened the door. The cold air hit you as you passed a few workers. No one paid attention as you walked inside past the front desk. You just walked as if you worked there. You didn’t exactly know where Culverton was, but you had an idea. You looked for a staircase and spotted one in the corner of the lobby. You slowly walked to the door then began skipping steps to the third floor. You reached the door and pulled it open. The bright hallway led to scattered doors and offices. It seemed more isolated. 

You felt as if you were being watched as you walked down the hallway, trying to look inside small windows. You couldn’t see much. You didn’t know where he was, but he was here. You turned around to walk the other way and gasped. 

There he stood at the end of the hallway that led on to other paths. His hands-on his side. Blank, but slightly relaxed face. 

“Looking for me?”

You didn’t think you would be scared, but you were. 

“Yes,” you said strongly.

He put his hands up. “I’m right here. Shall we talk?” He walked to a room nearby. You were reluctant to go, but you had to. You tried to instigate courage in yourself. Very little came. 

You walked inside the room many steps behind him. It was a large room. It looked like a lab. It was bright, white, and had a few tables. It was spacious but had no lab equipment. Possibly just for light experiments. 

Culverton stopped when he stood in the center of the room. 

“So I hear you’re with Sherlock,” he said. 

“I work with him.” 

“He’s a tough one. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.” 

You scoffed. Your anger slowly releasing. “Do you know why I’m here? You’re a serial killer. Are you even aware?” Your voice was harsh and serious. Culverton stared at you blankly. 

“I know.” 

Your tense body relaxed. He knew? 

“I have a problem. I’m not right. I’m not normal. I can’t control it. Have you ever even thought of that?” 

You swallowed. He definitely did have a problem, but were you overlooking it? 

“Why don’t you get help? You hurt people;e and you keep on doing it. You killed someone who meant something to me.” 

Culverton looked down and seemed almost sad when you said this. “Put yourself in my position. All these businesses. These mental problems. Imagine if I would do that.” 

You thought about it. “It would ruin you.” 

“Exactly.”

You walked closer to him. “You can’t talk to someone you trust?”

“They all know.” 

You were speechless. You weren’t expecting this. Somehow you were moved. Culverton walked over to the corner of the room and sat down on a large chair. 

“I can try to get this under control if people, like Sherlock, get out of my way. He’s causing turmoil and publicity. Unnecessary.” 

“I can talk to him.” You walked closer to Culverton. 

“You’re not like him,” he said, looking up at you. 

“How so?” 

He closed his eyes. “Your smart, but not smart like him, no a different smart. You feel more emotions particularly love and sadness, but you are a persistent woman, you fight for your beliefs. Must I do say I know you have a vivid mind.” 

You looked down at the floor. He described you almost perfectly. He was acting...human. You walked closer and eased yourself down on the chair next to him. 

“But what is a beautiful lady like you doing here? He gave you the hard work?” 

You shook your head. “No, it’s not like that, but that’s not the point.” You shifted in your chair. “We need to try to fix you.” You couldn’t believe what you were saying. You came here for revenge, and was moved by him? You didn’t know who to believe anymore. 

“Let me tell you to do something if you allow me. A quite simple mental exercise to have your experience....my world.” Culverton motioned his hands in the air as if he were cleaning it. “Imagine you love something very dearly.” 

You tried to. You thought of a few things. “I am.” 

Culverton let out a chuckle. “Silly, now. You must close your eyes and really visualize this.” 

You did so and pictured your childhood memories, vacations, and someone you loved. Sherlock. It made you happy. 

“Now, imagine you can’t have it anymore, but in a way, you could. Through violence, but nobody knew you of it except you.” His voice became softer and calmer as each word escaped his mouth. You thought about it deeply and came to the conclusion that Culverton is....right. He is. You opened your mouth, letting your thoughts come to you, but as soon as you were about to speak, something stabbed in your arm. It sent a piercing shock through your body. You didn’t scream, but you tried to get up, move your legs. You opened your eyes and saw Culverton turning sideways as your body fell limp to the floor. 

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

Silence. You heard nothing. Then you remembered sight. You felt your nerves and body come back to its senses. You opened your eyes, blinded by white light and flickered them a few times. Suddenly, the flood of memories poured over you. 

“You’re smart, but not people smart. Letting yourself get in a situation like this? Oh, dear.” The voice was familiar. Culverton. You tried to see him and soon made out his figure a few steps away from your left side. He just stood there. You didn’t say anything, but your body hurt, probably from falling. You tried to move, but couldn’t. Your arms and legs were restrained from some sort of wire. It cinched your skin hard and tight. How could you do this to yourself? To Sherlock? How were you so naive and stupid? You didn’t feel anger, just disappointment. You were going to die. There wasn’t anything to do. 

“What do you want? To kill me?” You whimpered. 

“My, you are catching on. But I’ll make it long. Courtesy of being a friend of Sherlock’s. I wish he did leave me alone, him and his childish meddling. He would have been sparing your life. Now if you were just a normal person, I would have continued our game, I was being quite fond of you, but that’s not how I work.”

You stayed silent, just looking at him. Where was Sherlock? Culverton walked to you and took out a long piece of metal. At first, you thought of it as a knife, but it was more like a bladed sword. You shivered. 

“Just get it over with.” 

He laughed sadistically. “Let’s test your pain threshold.” As soon as he said that he held the sword to your neck, pressing hard into your once beautiful skin, as blood spilled out with no mercy. You winced but didn’t say anything. He did it again, this time lower on your neck. You felt your skin splitting. You groaned. He withheld the sword and you looked at your shirt. The white turned a deep red. It hurt. The marks hurt you, but what would you do?

“Is that all you got?” You asked. 

When you said this he scoffed. “I’ll kill you now, but there’s no fun in that. You’ll end up dead like your....friend. They all do.” 

Culverton walked to you and stood tall, looking down at you like a dead rabbit. He punched your face. You opened your mouth in shock. The pain vibrated through your whole body with a strong hit. You felt your cheekbone start to bruise. Your face of beauty marked with blood, pouring down your pale skin. Your eyes teary, your skin cold. You wanted it to end. He threw another punch, this time at your stomach. You didn’t make a sound but instead fell to your side, trying to make it go away. He had no mercy on you. 

“Having fun?” 

You didn’t answer. You didn’t even look at him, but he pulled your body straight up and ran his sword along your arm. “You don’t know real pain.”

He stabbed you. 

The knife pierced your abdomen. 

You screamed. 

You looked at the ceiling, praying it to go away. The flesh painted with the crimson liquid, preparing you to die. You felt the life pouring out of you every second. One stab was all it took. You felt everything leaving your life. 

Suddenly you heard a door open. 

“Culverton!” Someone screamed. It sounded familiar. It was Sherlock. You couldn’t see him, but hearing him made you feel a little better. You heard a gunshot and someone falling down. You knew it was Culverton. You didn’t think you would die like this, but more surprisingly you didn’t think you would react to death this way. It was almost like you welcomed it and didn’t care. Maybe you did? Was there a certain way to act when dying? You didn’t feel the pain initially, but it entered your body, as the life drained even faster. 

You heard many quick steps coming to you. 

“(Y/N)!” Sherlock screamed. 

“Bloody hell.” You knew it was Lestrade. 

“I-I can’t.” It was Mycroft. 

Sherlock kneeled down to you, his hands moving everywhere, trying to fix it, but he couldn’t. Lestrade cut the wires and someone else cut the others on your legs. It felt better, but not enough. 

“I’m dying.” 

“No - no, you’re not! Hang on!,” Sherlock picked you up and sprinted out of the room and down the steps. Your head lightly bobbed against his chest. Your eyes now closed, resting. “I’m so sorry!” His voice caused you pain. You couldn’t take it. You didn’t like to see him like this. 

“I love you,” you said clearly. 

Sherlock started sobbing as he sprinted outside. You heard the ambulance's sirens but didn’t see it. All you could see were now blue skies with scattered clouds. Sherlock hopped up with you and put you down as the ambulance drove away. The workers punctured your arm, hooking you up to something and a monitor. 

“I love you too. More, so much.” He squeezed your hand and repeat this ten times, making sure you knew. You kept your eyes open for him, just looking at him. He tried to smile. You stared at him and wondered if this was the last thing you would ever see. You didn’t want it to end like this, but you didn’t complain. You slowly closed your eyes. You simply couldn't keep them open. His arm was wrapped around your head, elevating it and his hand squeezed yours. Suddenly it was all blackness. 

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You smelled something. Something clean. You heard something. Beeping. You felt something. Skin. A hand. Someone holding your hand and something soft on your arm. Hair? You knew you were alive. Your heart beat faster. You couldn’t believe it. You were happy to be alive, but your pain still dwelled. You opened your eyes but stayed silent. You were in a white gown and your neck and stomach throbbed, as did your face. You looked ahead of you. Lestrade and Mycroft sat on the chairs, hand in the head, sleeping. You looked to your left. Sherlock held your hand and put his head on the bed, his curls everywhere. You smiled. 

You tried to find a clock. There above the doorway. You made out the time as one in the afternoon, judging from the sunlight from the window. You would let everyone sleep, but decided Sherlock would like to see you. You squeezed his hand and immediately his head bolted upwards. You smiled at him. When he saw you, he extended his body over you, hugging you and pouring out tears. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said between sobs. He put his head down, still squeezing your hand. 

“(Y/N)!” Lestrade and Mycroft called out. They stepped up from their chairs and came to the other side of your bed. 

“Are you okay?” Mycroft asked. 

“You gave us quite a scare,” Lestrade said, suddenly letting a few tears escape. You smiled at them and noticed Mycroft’s eyes didn’t look so dry. 

“You died,” Sherlock said. “I thought that was it. I couldn’t bear it anymore.” 

“I decided to come back.” You said. Lestrade and Mycroft squeezed your other hand and arm. You were happy. Genuinely happy. 

“I have to get out of here,” you said, sitting up. 

“You really shouldn’t.” Sherlock said, placing his arm on your shoulder. You sighed. 

“(Y/N), sometimes I can’t understand you.” Mycroft said. 

You smiled and turned to all of them. “We have a lot to talk about.”