#sophs12k

[foreverbeingthunderbuddy]

Darling, Don’t Stop [b.b.]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: sexual attraction, um mention of nsfw

Prompt: “Who knew that this would be such a turn on?”

Summary: Bucky hires the law firm you work for to defend and represent him, though you’re just an intern and have to serve him during the meeting. You wouldn’t have come to work that day though, if you had known you would see him again later that week. In a strip club.

A/N: This is my submission for @hollandroos’ 12k writing challenge. Word count around 7,5k.

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Okay here’s the thing. Life is good.

You’re not exactly rich or wealthy, there isn’t a day where you don’t stuff money into the little jar in your kitchen shelf to save for worse days and there isn’t a day where you don’t stop at the little pizza shop down the street for lunch instead of going to a real restaurant that has heavy menu cards and fancy, washable napkins.

But you’re happy. You don’t feel like you’re missing out too much. You have your own little apartment, your own bed, kitchen, bathroom and you never have to beg anyone for money. It’s not much but it’s yours.

You went to law school. Yeah, you know, it sounds fancy but it wasn’t. It was tough, draining and painful and made you want to quit every week but you went through with it. You graduated and felt good about yourself, especially when your family came together to celebrate your success. Saying you’re not proud of what you achieved, would be a lie. Who wouldn’t be?

But how it usually goes when one comes fresh from law school and moves to New York, there are no jobs. None. It’s like there are two sides of the world of work. First, you get told the world needs you, wants you, you get told you will have a bright future – “You ARE the future!” how your college’s president proudly announced down to you from his podium during the welcome ceremony, all puffy-chested and full of himself.

You believed him because that’s what people do when they have never seen anything other than high-school.

And then there’s the world of work’s second side, the one you encounter after you graduate and send out your first applications. The one that pushes you into the very unpleasant, self-doubt infusing territory called reality. In short: You have yet to get a job in the field that you studied for.

It’s sad. It’s heart-breaking. But that’s the way it is.

How are you paying your rent then, one might ask now. Well. In the daytime you work in a law firm as an intern. The direction Law Firm is great, the title Intern … not so much. You’ve been working for them for two years now. Can you believe? Two years as an intern?

Your contract ran out and because you did a good job, they asked if you wanted to extent it and seeing as they refused to give you a legit job where you could use your degree and there are no other jobs in sight, you said Okay. What else could you have done? You would have ended up on the street. And there is no way you’d be going back to your little home town and move in with your parents.

No way.

So the internship during the daytime. And at night you work as a waitress. Not a bad thing, one would think now and it isn’t. It’s the place you are waiting tables at though, that isn’t necessarily good for your resume.

It’s a strip club. Short and simple. A strip club. You don’t strip of course, you just run around and serve drinks. Maybe flirt a little, not that you want to do it but it usually pays off in the end. Literally. No other place would get you tips good enough to pay New Yorkian rent. And there is a lot of it to pay, that’s for sure.

So. Now that we have that cleared, let’s fast forward to today. Daytime. Internship.

You push a cart down the hallway, knocking on doors and handing over letters or files that need to get delivered. Yeah, you have to play postman in a fancy, marble-floor law firm. See what the problem with this internship is? You didn’t study years and years, just to do the dirty work. It’s boring, insulting and embarrassing to say the least.

Of course, you don’t let it show. You can’t risk losing this job, it may be shitty but it makes up half of your rent. So, Y/N, clench your teeth and smile and don’t forget to say “Have a nice day, sir!” or Mr. Nothing-works-without-me or whatever his name is will get annoyed with you and then you have to help move furniture again.

Anything but that. Last time, you bent down and tried to lift a table and the pressure made the backside of your admittedly too tight dress pants tear up. They were expensive ones, of course they were, you’re not allowed to wear plain jeans here. It pained you to say your farewells to them. They were some good ass dress pants.

Speaking of fancy clothing, today is a very extravagant day for your closet. Your supervisor sent an email around, making sure everyone knows today is not for the usual work attire (meaning pants and blazer). Your head lawyers have a meeting scheduled with a very well-known, very influential, wealthy client and you and the other female interns and assistants are required to wear your best skirts and blouses.

Or dresses. Your outfit just has to scream I’m unmistakingly female and hate gender neutral clothing, also may this bold outfit convince you to leave a nice review on our website and you should be fine.

Seeing as the general, daily dress code is set at Fancy, you find it ridiculous to dress up even more for a client, even if he is none other than Bucky Barnes aka the Winter Soldier himself, surely a bright entry on your law firm’s resume and, let’s be honest, fantastic press. You understand why he chose this particular company to represent and defend his public persona, your bosses have a pristine white reputation and a success rate over 90 percent.

How Andy Malton, one of two company owners, in his mid-forties, honest-to-goodness asshole, landed the job is beyond you though. His work partner and co-owner Benjamin Taylor is much more genuine and respected by his staff and the world of law. He should have gotten the Avengers as his client. Why did Bucky choose Andy?

Who knows. Anyway.

You walk down the hallway in your black pencil skirt and white and black-striped blouse – dear reader, you don’t even want to know how expensive this outfit was, R.I.P. my bank account – and park the cart near the elevators, so one of the delivery boys can take it down later. And then you quickly go to the nearest bathroom.

It’s 9:40, Mr. Barnes and his companion should arrive in twenty minutes and you are in charge of bringing drinks and snacks. Boring, humiliating internsh- ah, forget it. No need or time to get all worked up again, not now anyway. You would be extra annoyed if this was any other ordinary client that you would have to serve but this is Bucky Barnes.

You would lie if you said you didn’t have kind of a thing for him. Your wildly beating heart and your sweating hands would give you away anyway. Serving drinks and food may be pretty shitty but today it’s your only chance to meet the man you have been adoring since he appeared in Stark’s rows. You’re a fan. And you are actually about to meet the Winter Soldier.

No time to freak out.

You leave the bathroom and try not to look like you’re rushing as you walk to the elevators and see the catering cart already standing in the hallway. Someone from the kitchen brought it up here, so now all you have to do is push it to the conference room Andy The Asshole has chosen and prepare everything for Mr. Barnes’ arrival.

You reach two colleagues who stand by an open office door and immediately stop chatting when you near and out of the corner of your eye, you see their heads following you as you pass them but you pretend not to notice. Everyone knows about today’s special guest and who is assigned to assist. You. These people may be top of their game but they’re also very talented gossipers. And jealous.

You walk around the corner, knowing they will immediately start yapping as soon as you disappear from their eyeshot, and halt in front of the conference room of destiny. You know it’s still going to be empty but you’re nervous nonetheless. You take a breath and knock, just for good measure.

Silence.

Without further hesitation, you open the door and step in. As fast as possible you put everything on the right side of the long conference table, cups, plates, glasses, water, lemonade, biscuits, cookies, some crackers, apples, sugar, honey ... Andy really decided to go big today it seems. What an ass kisser.

When the table is set, you throw a quick glance at your watch – 9:55. Shit. You shouldn’t be here when they arrive. You check one last time that everything looks perfect and then you quickly leave the room and run as fast as your high heels allow it to your little office you share with another intern. You close the door behind you and press one ear against the door to hear if something’s already happening.

Complete silence. And then, “Hrhrm.”

Someone just cleared their throat behind you and you jump at the sound.

“You okay?” Alissa, said other intern, asks and raises her perfectly plucked eyebrows at you.

She is sitting at her desk opposite yours and from what you can see of her computer screen, it looks like she is not spending her time dutifully doing some kind of task for your company but browsing through her ex-boyfriend’s Instagram. You sigh. Alissa and her ex are two of the most emotionally confusing individuals you have ever met.

Broken up after a bad, bad fight, made up for three days, broke off contact and now started talking again, still insult each other through text messages but regularly stalk each other’s social media accounts to gush over one another. Or at least she gushes over him, you don’t know what he’s doing in his private time, all you know is, he follows and un-follows her in predictable intervals and “accidentally” likes every third picture.

Too confusing. You have long stopped asking.

Anyway! More important things to do now. Stalking the hallway, for example.

Remembering your newly-found, most important task for today, you turn back around and slam your face into the door to get a better ear on said area.

“Yup. I’m fine. Just … getting ready to do my job” You answer Alissa’s question and squint your eyes to get a better focus. Didn’t you read somewhere that losing one of your senses improves another one? Lack of eyesight for better hearing, that’s the plan.

You don’t hear anything out in the hallway, what you do hear though is a very unwomanly snort behind you.

“Sure. Getting ready to do your job. Didn’t know spying on famous clients is one of your tasks for Taylor & Malton. Is that part of your contract?”

“Ha ha. Hilarious. Would you stop talking please, I’m trying to hear” You retort and press yourself further into the cold, frosted glass.

Frosted glass! As if you were stung by a bee, you recoil and step back. Another snort from your colleague.

“I was wondering when you would realize that the door isn’t non-transparent. It would have been too funny if someone had seen you from the hallway, a poor shadow pressed against the door in a desperate attempt to stalk her celebrity crush. Bucky would have bolted before Andy could have even tried to crawl up his ass. Bethany and Brithany would have had two weeks’ worth of gossip.”

Bethany and Brithany are the lovely ladies you encountered while bringing the food cart to the conference room. They have solid jobs at this law firm which is naturally why they think they are the queens to your peasants. Of course their real names aren’t actually Bethany and Brithany but that’s what Alissa and you named them after they started a terrible rumour about Alissa involving her ex.

“I’d rather die than give Bethany and Brithany a reason to talk about me, even though I think they already are. You should have seen the look on their faces when I walked past them with the food for Mr. Barnes’ meeting. Jealousy doesn’t even come close, those snakes looked like they were about to combust” You tell her and can’t stop the devious smile on your face as you sit down at your own desk.

Alissa gives a short, witch-like laugh and goes back to clicking through her very bad, no-good ex-trash’s pictures.

“I bet. You should have taken a picture, I need a new desktop background for my computer.”

Before you can reply something to that, you hear a knock on the door and jump to your feet. Due to the biggest source of light coming from a window in this office, you can’t make out an actual silhouette at the door but you know who this is. You take a quick breath and open it.

Andy’s assistant Emily, very tight grey skirt and dark-red blouse showing more cleavage than covering it, stands before you and writes something down on her clipboard. Her eyes cut to your face, taking in your make-up then swiftly scanning your outfit. She doesn’t seem to find anything to nag about – thanks to your unusual efforts to look as flawless today as possible – so she returns to her notes as if she didn’t just check you out like the treacherous bitch she is.

And you’re normally all about girls supporting girls but if there’s one person to throw anyone under the bus if it helps her stand in a good light in front of her boss, then it’s her. Especially the women. If things went after her lead, there would be no women employed at his company at all because they could totally steal her job if Andy happened to take a liking to one of them more than her. Right?

“Mr. Barnes just arrived. Time to take coffee orders” Emily clips and turns on her heels to sashay to the conference room. Those heels look painful.

Time to take coffee orders. Bitch.

You throw a last glance at Alissa who watched the whole thing and who looks exactly how you feel.

“Just ignore her, Y/N, if they gave you the job you actually deserve, Emily would stand below you and she doesn’t like that. Who cares what she and her ostrich legs think” She exclaims and follows up her petty remarks with a sigh and a determined nod.

Those ostrich legs look more like she could model with them but you’re not getting into that right now – also why would you defend Emily? She deserves every animal comparison she gets. Except for the elegant cat analogies some of the advocates for environmental law one floor beneath yours have given her. Those seem a little too positive for your taste.

You give Alissa a thumbs up, brush over your skirt to make all non-existent wrinkles disappear and leave your office. You walk around a corner and see the conference door stand ajar. Muffled male voices can be heard from the inside. Your heart is beating in your throat, that’s how nervous you are.

Okay, Y/N, you can do this! Be professional! Smile, be friendly, don’t empty the coffee pot over Emily’s head! Make a good impression. Oh god.

Before you can turn around, run screaming to the elevators and buy a one-way ticket to Argentina, you open the door further and step into the room.

There are six people here, all gathered around the side of the table you prepared for them. Andy, Emily and a man you don’t know are sitting with their backs to the window front, facing you. You can see a gleeful smile on her face the moment you appear in the doorway. You decide to ignore that and think of a good way to take revenge after this is over.

The other three people have their backs to you, two men and a woman. Your heart jumps as you recognize Bucky’s dark, chin-length hair immediately, he sits in the middle chair and seems to be occupied with one of the water bottles. From what you can see, he wears a suit jacket (!) and you try not to stare at his metal hand twisting the screw cap back onto the opening.

This is absolutely surreal and you think you’re about to pass out.

The woman has long, red-blonde hair in a ponytail and you’re sure that must be Pepper Potts. You didn’t know she would be here, too, and it certainly doesn’t help your stress level to face not one but two of Tony Stark’s people. If the dark-haired guy on the left turns out to be Stark himself, you are one hundred percent certain someone will have to call an ambulance.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N, come on in, don’t be shy” Andy suddenly addresses you and your heart stops a second at the unexpected sound and all heads swing around to you but because you don’t want to look like a shy wissy, you step forward and walk to the end of the table. Now you stand there like a kid on her birthday, looking down the board table at her friends, Andy The Asshole & co. to your right, Bucky “I’m Hot” Barnes and his companion to your left.

“Hello, nice to meet you” You say to Pepper and not to appear rude your gaze flickers to Bucky and the unknown man (not Tony Stark thank god) to include them. All you can make out from the millisecond your eyes rest on Bucky’s face are his piercing blue eyes looking at you. Your skin starts to tingle. His expression is unreadable though.

Pepper shows a smile that looks ten times more professional than yours. “Nice to meet you, too.”

You didn’t think you would ever hear that voice in person but here you are. Just don’t freak out, Y/N.

“Can I bring you something to drink? Coffee or tea?” You ask, suddenly remembering why you are here and glad about getting back at least some of your own professionalism. Your eyes cut back to Bucky and his are still on your face. Of course they are, you’re talking to them and taking orders, why would he ignore you?

He doesn’t smile but he looks attentive and you can see his gaze roam over your features. Can he stop please? It’s making you nervous. Oh please don’t stop.

“I’ll have a Rooibos tea. Thank you” Pepper says and pulls your attention back to her. You smile and nod. No, thank you.

“Latte Macchiato” The other guy exclaims and adds a vague gesture of his hand. You nod again and now that you have a full excuse to look at Bucky, you put on a smile that hopefully doesn’t look too needy.

“And what can I get you, Mr. Barnes?” You ask and anxiously wait for his answer. His eyes are currently resting on a spot around the area where your blouse is tucked into the waistband of your skirt. At your question he looks up.

“Nothing, thanks. Water will do” He answers and with that he turns away from you, shifts his attention to Andy in front of him and says as if that would explain everything, “Already had coffee this morning.” Andy nods wildly like that comment makes sense at 10 am.

While you try not to melt due to his voice, you swallow down your disappointment at his response and sudden lack of interest. The get-together you planned with your friends as soon as they found out Bucky Barnes would come to your company and made you promise you tell them every little detail afterwards is kind of ruined now.

The stories you wanted to tell. Original work title: That one day when I made Bucky Barnes coffee and he loved it. Now: That one day Bucky Barnes checked me out and immediately lost interest.

Welp.

You try to maintain your smile and nod, Of course Mr. Barnes, one coffee is more than enough for a day, and look at Andy.

“I’ll have a Caffè crema” He orders without looking up from his notes and is quickly followed by a sweet-as-sugar voice saying “Nothing for me, thanks. I try to drink less caffeine, it’s healthier and I already had my dose today.”

Emily never drinks coffee because she thinks it’s tragic for her teeth and it matches her diet plan. But of course she had to adjust her answer to Bucky’s. Of course. You see Andy eye her for a second, he knows she doesn’t drink coffee but before he can say something asshole-ish, the other man you don’t know orders a black coffee. Dammit.

Pepper starts talking and all six of them immediately go into business-mode, hence you cease to exist. Not once has Bucky looked at you again - tragic.

Okay. Time to go.

You turn away and leave the conference room, quietly closing the door behind you.

“Oh my god” You mouth silently and hectically wave your hands in the air before you get yourself together and toddle on your heels to the floors kitchen. You may not be a lawyer (cry…) but you won’t let them wait for their coffee and tea, that’s for sure. Great standards by the way.

To get to the kitchen you have to pass your own office and you see the door slightly open. You smile. Alissa may have acted like she didn’t really care about today’s events but she still won’t refrain from lurking. You rush past the door, mumble “Oh fucking god!” to yourself but loud enough that she will hear it and keep walking without looking behind you but you know she can’t resist and will follow you.

The “little” kitchen is actually a big open space with the fanciest counters and kitchenware you have ever seen, only separated from the outside by a room divider with stylish glass elements. On the counter stand two very expensive looking coffee makers and an espresso machine, accompanied by several silver kettles and some other paraphernalia that you haven’t figured out yet.

You fill water into one of the kettles and switch it on. You barely grabbed a coffee cup from one of the shelves when you hear footsteps directly behind you.

“Spill! I have five minutes before Taron comes checking in on the excel table I’m making for him” Alissa proclaims and appears on your right side at the counter. Without hesitation, you hand her two coffee cups and grab another and one of those big, fancy tea cups for Pepper.

“You know how to use Excel?” You ask and walk over to the drink machines of wealth. Honestly, you have seen the prices of these things and the only way that those numbers are justified is if someone glued a thousand bucks to the underside of each one. Atrocious.

“No, I googled it. So? How is he? What did he say? Did he check you out? Did Emily hit on him like the subtle excavator that she is?”

“Caffè crema for Andy, black coffee for Whatever His Name Is, Latte Macchiato for Not Tony Stark and Rooibos tea for Pepper fucking Potts” You say instead of answering her questions and she starts pushing buttons on the coffee machine in front of her. At Pepper’s name you see her hand halt its movements.

A moment of silence.

“You are kidding.”

“Nope. Bucky Barnes brought Pepper Potts as assistance to his meeting. Can you believe? Isn’t she CEO of Stark Industries now?” You open a different shelf and dig out the Rooibos tea packs.

“Oh wow. That’s so extra, I love it. Can we please trade lives? Can I bring them their coffee?”

“Nope” You declare and laugh, “I deserve this.”

“And? Is Bucky as pretty in real life as he is on screen and magazines?” She asks, being the nosy friend you need right now. There’s no way you hold all of this excitement inside yourself for the rest of the day.

“He is the most beautiful person I’ve ever met in my life, and I’m not being dramatic. I thought I would pass out when he looked at me and-“

“Those eyes! Am I right? Did he sell his soul for those or what? I bet they’re like … super blue in person.”

You snort.

“Super blue. Alissa, I didn’t know you could be so poetic. Must be the hormones” You joke and stare down at the tea cup turning a serious blood orange as you pour boiled water onto the dried plant material in the tea bag. Thank god, the kettle is high quality and only takes a couple of seconds to boil the little amount of water you filled it with.

“Hormones, might be. After you disappeared in that conference room, I walked out into the hallway and I swear to God, I could feel him. He walked down that exact corridor and I could still feel him minutes later.”

Both of you burst out laughing and you turn around to see if anyone is in sight but you’re alone. Bethany and Brithany would have a blast.

“That’s how manly he is” She ends her plea and changes cups to fill the second one. Meanwhile your own is finished now, too, and the tea will need another two minutes.

“Normally, I’d say you’re exaggerating but I’ve been in that room and talked to him and girl. You’re right.” Alissa makes a half-jealous half-satisfied noise and you take out a little silver tray and saucers and place the filled cups on it.

“Did he check you out?” She repeats her previous question and lets her eyes wander down your appearance seductively. You roll your eyes at her and put a hand on the counter.

“Yeah, I think so. For about five seconds and then he decided he isn’t interested and that’s when I became invisible, so... So much about that.”

“He checked you out for five seconds which is better than four and besides, what do you expect? It’s a business meeting and Pepper is present. She is his boss’s fiancée, it’s not like he can hit on you blatantly. Even though that’d be hot.”

You nod. It would. Both of you stay silent for a couple of seconds.

“It would make him look super unprofessional in front of his asshole lawyer and you don’t want Andy breathing down your neck, do you? He would never let you assist in the Barnes case ever again” Alissa says and puts a hand to her hip.

“True. God forbid there is someone who steals the show. I still can’t believe Bucky chose Andy to represent him and not Benjamin” You retort and give her a look. She raises her eyebrows.

“You don’t know Bucky, Y/N. He could be an asshole and you would still think he is the biggest sweetheart. Maybe he and Andy just clicked and that’s why. Although, I hope that’s not the case because if Bucky turns out to be an asshole, I’ll need a new object for my daydreams.”

You eye her questioningly and feel the corners of your mouth twitch.

“Strict no-assholes policy” She answers your unspoken question. You almost mention her very-asshole boyfriend that she is still running after. Almost. But you don’t. Instead you turn your head and watch the last droplets fall into the coffee cup.

“Ugh. Time to go. Pray for me that I won’t trip and slam the tray into Emily’s take-me-right-now face.”

“Actually, I pray that you do trip and slam the tray into her take-me-right-now face. Christmas and Easter in one.”

You laugh. “Shut up.”

You both leave the kitchen area, you balancing the tray in your hands, and walk to the conference room. You feel yourself growing nervous again. Also, was it always this hard to walk in high heels or did they change their form since you started making coffee?

Alissa doesn’t stop at your office but you don’t dare to look at her out of fear you could trip.

“I’m walking you to the room to make sure you don’t get lost” She explains and you supress a giggle. To make sure you don’t get lost, my ass. She wants to have an exclusive look at the current object of her daydreams. Who could blame her, though?

Pretending to be a gentleman ca. 1850, she lays one hand behind her back and opens the door for you, bowing as you pass her. You stop yourself from rolling your eyes at her just in time.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N, finally. I could feel myself dry out” Andy comments your coming back and you walk to the spot from where you took their orders. Don’t look at Bucky or you’re definitely gonna trip.

“Oh, was that- I think I saw Miss Marr at the door, or was that-“

“No, probably just someone passing by” You quickly interrupt him and hand him his Caffè Crema which he takes looking facilitated. He doesn’t usually drink fancy stuff like that but you guess he wanted to make an impression on his guests.

“Took a while” Emily remarks like an angel and you ignore her. You were gone for five minutes. Maximum. Bitch.

“Here’s your tea, Miss Potts” You say and smile at Pepper as you put it down in front of her, “It will need to steep for another minute.”

“Thank you very much.”

You give Whatever His Name Is his black coffee and do the same on the other side, bending forward a little and reach out with Not Tony Stark’s Latte Macchiato in your hand.

And that’s when you feel Bucky’s eyes burn into you and you see the blue out of the corner of your eye. This position brings you closer to him than before and you’re relieved when the man takes the cup from you and you can lean back.

Your heart is beating in your chest excitedly.

“Can I bring you anything else?” You ask to cover up how flustered you are. For a moment you think you’ll get a No from them but then you see Bucky nod.

“Yes, I changed my mind. I’d like a black coffee as well” He says with his deep voice and meets your eyes and … did he really sell his soul for those? You would believe it. Trying not to collapse, you smile like a horse and turn to leave. You feel his gaze on you the entire time.

“Of course, Mr. Barnes.”

The door closes behind you and like a mad woman you totter back to your office, jump into the doorway, hiss “Kitchen! Now!” and rush down the hallway, hearing the same ungraceful sounds of high heels running behind you.

You throw open a shelf and grab a coffee cup.

“Please tell me he asked for your phone number!” Alissa exclaims and materializes next to you.

“No but he ordered a black coffee from me while holding intense eye contact.”

Silence.

“With every other guy I would have pushed you into the fridge for making me run in heels just to hear he ordered coffee but with Bucky … Tell me exactly what his words were and how he looked while saying them.”

You tell her everything and simultaneously realize you sound like a teenager who has never had a boyfriend but this is Bucky mutherfucking Barnes. Every twitch of a muscle in his jaw must mean something!

“You know what you should do? Write your phone number on the cup and see if he’s interested” Alissa says and wiggles her eyebrows at you. You scowl.

“What? No! I’m not gonna write my phone number on the cup, how obvious is that?”

“Yes. That’s the plan.”

She opens a drawer and digs out a fucking Edding permanent pen. If you write your number with that, it will go all around the whole cup and it will be very visible.

“Oh, definitely not gonna do that.”

“Yes!”

“No! Everyone will see it.”

“Imagine Emily’s face when she sees Bucky take a sip from a cup with your fat number on it. How funny would that be?”

Alissa means well but she often oversteps the mark.

“Very unfunny. Especially because I would get fired.”

You and her argue until Bucky’s coffee is ready and you put it on the tray.

Same procedure like previously, both of you walk to the conference room and she opens the door for you. You forgot to tell her about hiding better – Andy saw her last time – and now it’s too late.

Your eyes are glued to the back of Bucky’s head instantly and you step behind him.

“Here’s your coffee, Mr. Barnes” You say and place it next to his hand. He turns his head and looks up to you which puts your faces dangerously close to each other. You know you should retreat but you hesitate and for a moment you think you are getting lost in his eyes. How cheesy is that?

“Thank you very much, Miss Y/L/N” He says, saying your name for the first time, making your knees weak and that’s when you see a smile on his face. Beautiful.

You quickly step back before you get yourself into trouble and hold the tray in front of you.

“You’re welcome” You retort and leave the room.

****

You wait until you hear a knock on your office door and open it.

“Meeting is finished. Time to clean up” Emily says without looking at you and walks away.

Time to clean up. God, what a bitch. You’re a lawyer for goodness sake.

“Is it just me or does she seem grumpier than usual?” Alissa asks from her desk.

“Yeah.”

“Probably unhappy about the fact you got a mind-dazzling smile for bringing him coffee and she didn’t, even though she didn’t leave anything to the imagination when it came to her cleavage today.”

Alissa, the never stopping exaggerator.

You step into the now empty conference room and start cleaning up. You select plates, cups and glasses and everything else. When you reach Bucky’s seat, you see the empty coffee cup, a half-empty glass of water and a plate with a couple of cookie crumbles on it. He ate cookies during his probably very serious lawyer meeting. Cute.

If you were Alissa, you would lick his plate and take a sip from his water but you’re not, so you simply pick them up and put them on the food cart. There’s only so much creepiness you can handle.

Suddenly, you notice a small piece of paper laying on the table exactly where his plate was and you feel yourself get excited. With giddy fingers you grab it and see the scrawly handwriting.

My friend Tony usually gets quite indignant when he sees someone who undersells themselves and I wish I had more time to talk some sense into you. You’re a lawyer, aren’t you?

And beneath that he wrote:

P.S. The coffee was great though.

Holy shit.

****

Bucky thinks you sell yourself under value and he’s right. The thing is, New York isn’t really offering you any good jobs, so you’re kind of forced to keep this shitty internship for now. Alone the fact that he thinks you are worth more makes you heart beat faster than is healthy. You think the note is a good reason to freak out. Alissa agrees.

So, what does a girl do after being told she is worth more than serving people drinks and snacks? Correct. She puts on a hell of a lot of make-up and her usual night time uniform and goes to start her shift as a waitress in a strip club. It’s a matter of interpretation.

The meeting with Bucky Barnes at your company happened five days ago and you’re still not over it. He hasn’t come in since but you know he will and you’re looking forward to it.

You greet the bouncer at the door and enter a small hallway that leads to where the action is. You can already hear the notorious music coming through the speakers and the many conversations melting into one big babble of voices. The room is well-filled, of course, it’s a Saturday night. A lot of work men, groups and – and that’s curse and blessing at the same time – quite a number of bachelor parties.

They are the ones who give the best tips but they’re also the ones with the worst manners. They always make you nervous but you know you’re safe. Carl, the owner of this club, has his men everywhere to make sure the waitresses won’t get harassed. Making you wear higher than high-heels, a tight black top and a skirt that’s way too short for your usual liking isn’t really helping the matter, though.

You walk over to the bar, put away your stuff and get ready for your shift. Suddenly, there’s a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N, you lucky bitch!”

Sarah. One of the waitresses. Black eyes, dark skin, eyebrows to die for and the same slutty uniform you are wearing.

“Hi, Sarah” You greet her and continue to put a small bag around your waist, almost like a fanny pack, where you store money and especially the tips.

“God, you’re so lucky, do you know that? One of your tables is a bachelor party and it’s not just anyone bu-“

“AY! I’m not paying you for standing around and gossiping! Get to work!” Carl shouts at you from behind the bar and points at the customers. How did a man that big manage to appear without you noticing?

“Sorry, Sarah, gotta go” You say and make your way over to your area of tables.

“At least share the tips with us later!” She calls out after you and you don’t bother responding. Now why would you share your tips with them? Are your customers that wealthy?

You pull out your little notepad and step to the big table with said bachelor party and without looking up, you ask “Can I bring you guys anything?”

“Yes, a round of shots please, same as before” A voice says next to you and you look up to meet a pair of dark brown eyes.

Those dark brown eyes are accompanied by full eyelashes, dark eyebrows and a significant beard that looks like a combination of an anchor beard and a disconnected moustache. Perfectly trimmed. You know exactly who that is. You would recognize that roguish smile anywhere.

“How many?” You ask and begin counting Tony Stark’s men, recognizing each and every one of them. You feel your hands get sweaty and shit, these heels are the worst to stand in when having weak knees. And then you see the person you have wished not to see since you caught sight of Tony Stark in your strip club.

Bucky Barnes sits in front of you behind the table, wearing jeans, black boots and a black shirt that doesn’t hide his metal arm at all and you think you have never seen anything sexier in your life. His hair is tugged behind his ears and his eyes sparkle even in the dim light of this establishment while they wander down your body, unashamedly taking in the uniform and there’s nothing you could do about it.

You see the shit-eating grin spread on his face when his gaze cuts up to meet your eyes and he realizes you’re watching his reaction. Correction: That is the sexiest thing you have ever seen in your life.

“Seven” Tony suddenly says, snapping you out of your trance. He looks amused.

“Okay” You say, force a smile on your face and turn on your heels to get the hell away from them.

God, that was embarrassing. You were about to jump Bucky in front of his friends and everyone could see it. This is definitely not a good start to your shift. Also, Bucky was the person to write you a note about being capable of more than serving drinks and now five days later you meet him again while serving drinks in a titty bar. Someone shoot me please.

You walk to the bar to get their drinks ready when you feel a presence behind you.

“I feel like you didn’t find the note I wrote you” The voice out of your dreams says and you slowly turn around to face him. He looks down at you. There’s something in his eyes that indicates danger but not the kind that would get you hurt …

“No, I found it. Thank you” You admit and watch as the corners of his mouth tug into yet another beautiful smile. Seeing it up-close makes you feel a little dizzy, not gonna lie.

“Hm. Then I think you didn’t really understand what I tried to tell you, darling.”

Darling. Say that again please.

“I did. I understand what you said and I agree” You say and maybe you’re imagining things but you think his blue eyes grow a little darker.

“Is that why you wait tables in a strip club?”

You squirm and avoid his gaze. Welp. He steps a little closer and now he’s all up in your personal space and you don’t even mind. Like he doesn’t have a single care in the world, he raises his metal arm and lays it on the counter next to you. It looks strong and dangerous and … you want to touch it.

“No. I wait tables because there is no other job to pay my rent with. I tried to get a job as a lawyer but it’s like everyone else was faster than me. Every law firm I sent my application to offered me an internship. You don’t know how hard it is to find a good job in this city.”

“That’s true. I just didn’t consider you the type of woman to work in a place like this. Though, I’m not complaining” He says lowly and flickers his eyes down to your outfit for a second before coming up to your face again. You feel heat crawl up your neck and a serious belly flutter in your stomach. God, get yourself together, Y/N!

“I bet you didn’t expect to see me tonight, hm?” You ask, feeling very bolt all of a sudden and immediately regret saying that. Now he thinks you are flirting. Which you are. But … ugh. You can’t think clearly with him being so close.

“I didn’t. When I saw you, my first thought was She deserves better. And you do. You should sit in one of those fancy conference rooms and talk to your clients and order coffee or maybe tea. But now as I stand here before you, getting a better look at your lovely outfit, seeing your eyes not leaving my mouth while I talk, I think Who knew that this would be such a turn on?”

You need a second to comprehend what he said and when you do, your eyes grow wide. Never in a million years did you think you would hear Bucky Barnes say these words to you – you have dreamed about it for sure but that’s all it was. A dream. And now he is right in front of you, face only inches away and says he’s turned on.

Can someone pinch you please?

“I, um … I, this, you do, I… um.” Peak intelligence, truly, good job, Y/N.

You see his smile turn into a grin and there’s that sparkle in his eyes again that does things to you and brings thoughts into your head that you would never admit out loud. And then you realize you stopped breathing and that’s probably why you feel so dizzy, so you take a deep breath and smell his cologne and oops – there goes your composure.

“I’ll let you go back to work now. Maybe I’ll have a word with your boss about this work attire. You don’t look comfortable and to be honest I know there are at least ten men staring at you when you walk past and I don’t like it. Don’t ask me why. I just don’t” He says and for a second his eyes wander down to your mouth and you realize you bit your bottom lip.

He meets yours again, gives you one last cocky grin and then he turns and walks back to his Avenger friends. Of course, you watch him go. And of course you see all his friends’ eyes on you and every single one of them looks amused. Shit.

****

Forever Tag List: @izzy-the-teawitch @wowpeterparker @brightcolorsoffendme  @strangequakson @rosegoldquintis @thirdwheelchurchill  @hazel-eyed-bi @goldenkillmonger @yourwonderbelle @hawaiiantozier @irondadandspidersoncute @thirtiethnovember @fancyfangirl-style @appalo0 @lionheo04 @vivideley @mae-shower 

[ijustreallylovezebras]

Promise Me

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: She doesn’t know (Angst Prompt 35: Please, stop lying to me. Tell me where you are going because if you’re cheating on me now’s the time to tell me)

Requested: No

I paced around the room, checking my phone uncertainly, hoping against hope that I would get a call, a message, anything to provide me with the security that Peter was safe. He had promised me - promised me - that he would come around mine at eight o’clock to hang out with me. 

He’d been breaking promises a lot recently. At this point it was becoming a struggle to remember the last time he stuck to plans we had, the last time he didn’t ditch me midway through a date with a valid reason why he had to.

He always said the same thing, too - Stark Internship. It was utter bullshit, the least he could do was come up with a creative excuse to give me when bailing. 

I groaned out loud, tugging at the ends of my hair before throwing my phone across the room onto my bed and then pulling the sleeves of my sweater down to cover my hands like paws. 

My sweater. His sweater. There didn’t use to feel like difference between the two. Now, though. Now I struggled to find comfort in his smell, in the feeling of the soft material enveloped around me as I waited for his long-overdue returns.

My phone lit up and I scrambled to get across my room, somewhat disregarding my anger with Peter as I struggle to find out if he’s okay or not. It all comes tumbling back, though, when I read the message on my screen.

Sorry, babe, got caught up with Internship. Love you lots, see you tomorrow xx

Anger boils inside of me as I read it over and over. Peter didn’t call me babe. He found the pet-name impersonal and somewhat degrading. He preferred others that were found less commonly. Sweetheart made a common appearance and, since he had met Captain America and The Winter Soldier during his internship (which he told me about during a very high-pitched, excited phone call about a month ago), doll had also made itself known to me. His favourite, though, was angel.

I gave another frustrated groan and fell onto my bed, not bothering climbing under the covers as I stared up at my ceiling, contemplating Peter.

There was a time that I would have trusted Peter without a second thought, his word was considered law. When our promises meant an unbreakable vow.

The next morning in school, I ignored Peter’s presence. He was waiting for me in our normal meet-up spot before school, holding a bag from Starbucks in his hand as he always did when he knew I was mad at him. I ignored him, opting instead to walk past, pretending I didn’t see him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch his face drop and he flings his bag around to his side, stuffing his peace offering inside as he hurries to catch me up.

“Y/N? Babe?” He asks and I whirl around, frowning at him.

“Don’t call me that,” I snap and Peter steps back, clearly shocked by my outburst. I don’t allow myself to feel the guilt that is creeping up on me as I turn around and swiftly continue my way into school. Peter is still on my heels, following me like a sad puppy.

He follows me to lessons, apologising over and over again, at every chance he can but I stare resolutely ahead, ignoring him. By the time lunchtime rolls around, Peter has given up attempting to apologise and is instead opting for the sad pout that always got me to break.

Not this time though. 

I sit with MJ, instead, and discuss the English Literature reading that was set for the weekend, desperately ignoring Peter’s gaze that is burning holes in the side of my face as I laugh with my best friend. Ned clearly notices something is up and, after five minutes of attempting to make conversation with Peter, also gives up, slouching down in his chair with an annoyed look on his face.

“Come on, babe, talk to me,” Peter begs as I reach my apartment. He’d followed me home, past his apartment. I turned and glare at him.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” I ask, frustrated by his presence in a way that I had never been before.

“You’re my girlfriend and you’re upset with me, of course I can’t leave you alone! How shitty of a boyfriend would I have to be to do that?” Peter asks, frowning at me.

“The same boyfriend I’ve had for the past few weeks,” I snark, opening the door to my building, storming towards the staircase. Peter is quick to follow me, grabbing my wrist and I turn around, glaring at him murderously.

“What do you mean?” He begs. “I want to help,” 

“You’re never around, Peter, you’ve always got something more important,”the words burst out of me, like birds flying out of a cage as I finally tell him what I had been keeping bottled up inside for weeks. “You promised,” my voice cracks at those words and I hate myself for how childish they sound.

“Angel,” Peter begins but I let out a sob and shake my head.

“Please, stop lying to me. Tell me where you are going because if you’re cheating on me now’s the time to tell me“ I say and Peter looks stunned.

“Cheating on - what? Angel, I’m not cheating on you,” Peter says, shaking his head and looking disgusted at the mere thought.

“Then where do you go?” I demand, furiously swiping away my tears. I’m two steps up at this point, ready to leave the situation if needs be.

“I have the Internship,” I give a hollow laugh at his attempt at an excuse, shaking my head in mild disbelief.

“Of course you do,” I sigh, turning my back and moving up the stairs slowly.

“Angel,” he calls out and I turn around, every inch of me felt exhausted in that moment as I shook my head.

“Go home, Peter,” and walked upstairs.

Sobs racked at my body that night as I lay in bed. I tried to keep them down, not wanting to disturb my family who were probably sleeping by this time of night. Grief riddled my body as I reflected on the day. 

I didn’t want to loose him.

It was for the best.

Two sides of my mind battled with one another, certain they were right. I barely heard the tapping on my window but, as it became more insistent it drilled into my head and I stood up, wiping my nose on the sleeve of my sweater. 

I opened the curtains and am met by a blue and red mask. I stumble back from the shock, opening my mouth to scream but Spider-Man puts his finger to his lips, even through his mask I can see the panic on his face. I hesitate, my hand on my door handle, ready to bolt. 

The masked hero gestures for me to open my window but I shake my head. He goes back to tapping on my window and I roll my eyes, stepping forward unsurely. The hero shoots me a thumbs up, putting me somewhat at ease. But I hesitate again before shaking my head, stepping away and opening my door, wanting nothing more at that point than for Spider-Man to leave.

He flails his hands in the air, desperately gesturing for me to stop moving. I do. His shoulders slump slightly and he glances around him and I see his chest rise and fall in a sigh and his hand lifts to his mask. My jaw drops slightly as he begins to pull it off and my eyes widen drastically when his face is revealed.

It can’t be.

“Peter?” I whisper, storming over to the window and opening it.

“Surprise?” He offers unsurely and I shake my head.

“You’re a complete arse, Parker,” I announce loudly and Peter is quick to jump inside my room and cover my mouth.

“Your family,” he whispers and I glare at him before biting his hand through his glove, causing him to let go of his grip. “I’m sorry!” He says, grabbing my wrists as I lift them to try and hit him.

“Who knew?” I demand.

“Just Ned and May,” he says, and I free one of his hands, hitting his chest and shaking my head.

“You’re a prick,” I say, feeling tears sliding down my face again.

“Mr Stark knows too,” Peter offers, gently taking my hand again. I give up fighting him and fall against him instead.

“You could get hurt,” I whisper as Peter pulls me closer.

“I do get hurt,” he confirms, rocking me gently from side to side. 

“You didn’t trust me,” I mumble, the realisation hitting me.

“What?” Peter asks, holding me at arms length to look at me. “Of course I trust you,”

“You didn’t trust me enough to tell me,” I say, sniffing and wiping away my tears. When my eyes clear from the blurriness Peter is shaking his head adamantly.

“That’s not the reason, angel, I swear,” he assures me and I look at him quizzically. “If you knew then it could have put you in danger,” Peter tells me, sincerity shining in his brown eyes. “I do trust you, I trust you more than anyone else,” he says, gently leaning down to press a hesitant kiss to my lips.

“Promise?” I ask as we break apart. His breath fans across my lips as he answers without hesitation.

“Promise,”

Entry for @hollandroos 12K writing challenge - Congrats again on getting 12K!!

[thewackywriter]

Worth It - Part 1

Peter Parker x Y/N

Summary: Y/N is getting really tired of all of Peter’s lies. Can they work things out?

A/N: Here it is, finally posted!! I’m like 99% sure that there won’t be a part two unless I randomly get inspired, so we’ll see! I’m excited to hear what you guys think! This is for @bloggingfromherbed writing challenge and @hollandroos 12k writing challenge!! Check out my masterpost below and feel free to request! Feedback is appreciated! Thank you for reading, enjoy!

PART 2

MASTERPOST

ASK/REQUEST

She could only watch as her boyfriend and his best friend gossiped by his locker. She knew that as soon as she walked over all conversation would cease and they would be left in an awkward silence. That’s what had become the usual now-a-days, with Y/N being left out of the loop while Peter and Ned exchanged secret nods and signals. The thought of it happening again made her not even want to hang out with them anymore. She was about to just turn around and go a different way to her class when her and Peter made eye contact. She watched as his eyes widened in panic before he attempted to smile at her and gave an awkward wave. She only rolled her eyes in response before turning around and walking away. As she reached the end of the hallway, she heard him calling her name from behind her.

“Y/N! Y/N!” She slowed down as he caught up to her. “Hey, why didn’t you come say hey to Ned and I?” When she only sighed in response, Peter grew concerned. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“No Peter, things haven’t been okay for a while now. You haven’t been yourself lately. I know you’re hiding something and I don’t know what it is, but I’m sick of the lies.” He was surprised by her words. I mean, he knew that things weren’t great between them but between school and his internship, he just kind of push thoughts of his downfalling relationship to the back of his mind. It seemed like now he couldn’t avoid the thoughts any longer. “I mean, do you even want to be in a relationship? You seem to have all the time in the world for everyone but me. When is it going to be my turn?”

Now that, he didn’t expect. He had been wanting to be with you since middle school, there was no way he was gonna let you go that easily. All he wanted to do was protect you, even if it meant your relationship had to suffer. “Yes, I want to be in a relationship. Look, I know things haven’t been perfect lately, but I promise I’m gonna try harder. Why don’t you come over tonight. We’ll have pizza and just talk and hang out. I’ll explain everything. Okay?”

Y/N knew that she shouldn’t get her hopes up, but she really did want to work things out. “Okay. I’ll be there at 8.” Peter seemed to light up at her words. He quickly wrapped his arms around her and lightly kissed her cheek before rushing off to class. She could only smile and shake her head, hoping that things would finally work out in her favor.

As the day went on, Y/N got more and more excited. She was so ready to finally have a night in, just her and Peter. She was almost buzzing as she walked up to Peter’s apartment door and knocked. When his Aunt May answered the door with a grimace, she knew immediately what had happened.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, he’s been at his internship all day. Would you like to come in and wait?” Y/N could only sighed before agreeing to come in, telling herself that she would only wait ten minutes. Those minutes seemed to go on for ages, but finally she looked at the clock.

8:10

She grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a note before leaving it on Peter’s bed. She said her goodbye’s to Aunt May and left back towards her house.

When Peter finally returned home later that night, he found his aunt waiting in the kitchen. “You know, if you have your internship you shouldn’t ask your girlfriend to come over and wait for you. I raised you better than that.” Peter immediately panicked at her words, as he had completely forgotten that he invited Y/N over to work things out. He rushed to his room, only to find a note left on his bed that left him with a guilty conscience and a broken heart.

Hope it was worth it. We’re over.

Part 2

[mylovefortomholland]

For tonight

Title: for tonight

Type: One shot

Pairing: Roommate!Tom Holland x reader

Warnings: angst? (I think it’s angsty), language, will end in fluff :)

Summary/Request:

Word count: ~910

Note: Submission for @hollandroos 12k writing challenge! Congrats gain, Love :) (prompt is in italic & bold) I hope you like it!:D

­­~~

It started with a game. With an innocent game on one of the many parties you attended with Tom Holland, your roommate since around seven months. You never thought about getting one, but the rent increased, so you had to look for one.

Your actual roommate-goal was a female, called Zendaya, but she couldn’t move in with you, so she sent you her best friend with the words “Yeah, don’t worry, he is easy to handle.”

Well, shit, of fucking course he was, but he was bad in other ways. 

For an example: He was just too good-looking, and his other best friend, too. They hung out quite frequently at your flat, had their movie nights, to which they invited you every time, and he asked you whenever he wanted to throw a party if he actually could and if you wanted to be a part of it.

Thomas Stanley Holland was a sweetheart through and through. From head to toe, and that’s what bothered you so much.

You easily fell for him, a while ago, but you were too shy to make a move. You couldn’t answer his tries to flirt with you. You shook it off, and so he stopped trying because he thought you didn’t have the same feelings. Because he thought you didn’t fell for him. Because you broke his heart so many times with your refuses on their movie nights or with all of the excuses you told him whenever he wanted to do something with just you.

You broke Britain’s sweetest heart, and the worst part is that you didn’t even know it.

The faint sounds of the TV in front of you sang you to sleep during one of the most boring TV-shows ever which let your roommate easily slip through the front door and into his own bedroom without you noticing it.

After the fight you two had the day before, he really didn’t want to get caught by you while he was drunk and so fucked up that he almost had to ring you up to ask where he even lives. Tom changed his clothes and avoided a look into the not so clean mirror during that. He grabbed one of his cozy blankets, tiptoed into the living room again to throw it over you, so it could protect you of the cold winter air that got in through the leaky window frames.

“But it still can’t protect you from the cold of your own heart”, he whispered sloppy, with half lidded eyes, which were fixated on your sleeping form. Your chest raised and sunk in a steady rhythm, the movements of your eyes were visible through your lids. Tom’s hands gripped the edges of the blanket, pulled them up to your chin and sat beside you. “I could, you know. You just have to let me”, he pressed a small kiss to your forehead before he left your sleeping form to retire into his own room. There he sat down on his bed, pulled out his phone and wrote Harrison about the plans they had about the upcoming Christmas party.

Loud music and the ongoing vibration of the ground made it hard to communicate with other people, at least for you. You weren’t a party goer, but if your handsome roommate practically dragged you there… well… you didn’t have another choice, did you?

“C’mon, just drink anoth’r one!”, Tom slurred, hanging on his best friend’s shoulder, as he handed you one of the famous red cups with different alcoholic liquids in it.

“No, no thanks. And I think you had enough, too!”, you yelled over the music, grabbed his other arm and supported him while Harrison let go. “Just call it a night and let’s go home, yeah?” your eyes searched for an answer in his, and you knew almost immediately that this one eye contact was one too much. It was at the wrong time, Tom was drunk while you were just a bit tipsy. But the alcohol still showed his effect as his lips turned into a smirk, coming closer every second, while you backed away a bit.

“Tom, we have to get home”, you remembered him as he escaped the grip of your hand and walked – better said staggered – forwards, in direction of your shared flat which was located in a rather big building.

Your keys clattered as you let them down on the kitchen counter while you supported Tom again.

“You’re heavy”, you grunted.

“You’re pretty, too”, he smiled at you.

“HEAVY.”

“No, your body is perfect, darling.”

You sighed, closed your eyes and let out a breath. “Thank you, Thomas. You should go to bed”, you lead him to his bedroom, the bright light hurt your eyes and Tom whined quietly. 

“Warn me the next time.”

You sighed again, helped him into his bed and turned away, as he grabbed your wrist.

“Stay”, his voice was barely audible, but the word rang through your head.

“Excuse me?”

“Stay. I know… I know you hate me, but just stay for tonight, then we can pretend that this- us, it never happened”, he pled with his head pressed into his pillow.

“You’re dumb, Tom”, a light chuckle escaped your lips as you sat on his bed and brushed your fingers through his tangled, curly hair. “I don’t hate you, you know? It’s… It’s quite the opposite”, you confessed, after almost a seven month long lasting crush.

[marvelhcs]

everything comes back to you (t.h.)

warnings: underage drinking, empty threat (?), half ass editing

word count: 1.2k

pairing: tom holland (non-actor) x reader

A/N: first ever fic for @hollandroos 12k challenge! Super nervous about this, but what’s the worst that can happen? based on “This Town” by Niall Horan. I don’t see a famous Tom in this, but I suppose it could work since he still lives close to his childhood home (I believe). Feedback is appreciated :)

“Yesterday I thought I saw your shadow running round”

              Five years was a long time. Not quite long enough to stop his eyes from seeing her around every corner.

“It’s funny how things never change in this old town”

              Five years was a long time. Not quite long enough for much to change in her hometown. The same railroad tracks, the same houses, the same people.

“I remember everything”

              He saw her coming around a corner again. He turned around as always. Tried to erase the image. It wasn’t real, and it hadn’t been for a long time. Not a long enough time for him to forget. Not long enough to forget the rides on the ferris wheel, the races to the playground, the popsicles on a hot day. Not long enough for him to forget the first time she dated someone, or the first time he had to console her after getting dumped. He couldn’t forget the nights on the roof, or the early morning drives because she felt like it, or the one time she felt like kissing each other stupid.

She left the next day.

A voice brought him back to the present, “Tom?”

“If the whole world was watching I’d still dance with you”

“I can’t believe you’re back,”

“I’m not back,”

“You’re back for tonight,”

“I am back for tonight,”

“Wanna dance?”

“Tom, we’re on the roof,”

“And?”

He held her close, trying to say everything he never had.

She left again, three days and three dances later.

“Everything comes back to you”

No matter what, she always came back to him. For him, all that mattered in his life went back to her. As long as she always came back.

“I saw that you moved on with someone new”

Eight months later, he saw her again. Nothing had changed. He hadn’t found anyone who came close to her. The town still had the same people. Nothing had changed, except the ring on her finger, and the lack of women in town that Saturday. They had all gone downtown for the shower. His mother went.

“I want to tell you everything, the words I never got to say”

The day they got the invitation, he went on the roof without her for the first time.

Why didn’t he tell her?

Why did she leave him?

Why didn’t she talk to him?

Why didn’t he try harder?

So many things he never said but should have. It would all be different.

He knows she loves him too. He’s always known. He knew when they were little, and she gave him her favorite candy even though it was the last one. He knew when they were teenagers, trying to stop giggling after sharing a stolen bottle of wine. He knew it the night before she left for the first time, when she kissed him on the roof, and then kissed him even more. He knew it 8 months ago, when they danced late at night and didn’t say a word.

And then she left again, and he still hadn’t said anything, even though he wanted to say everything.

“Drive highways and byways to be there with you”

He hadn’t wanted to go to the wedding. He didn’t want to mess it up, he couldn’t watch it and trust himself not to mess it up for her. Then he got the text.

I need you here. I cant do this without you.

And now he’s on a road, going to a town he’s never been to, because your fiancé insisted on having the wedding closer to his family than yours.

He hasn’t driven this far away in a long time, but he has no choice.

“Everything comes back to you”

She’s still the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, even in a wedding dress to marry someone else.

“Tom, I can’t do this,”

“Why not, love? This is what you’ve always wanted. You have a man who loves you, the career you’ve always dreamed about, and I thought you mentioned a dog last time. This is what we always talked about on the roof, darling,”

“When we talked about it on the roof, I thought it would be with you. I always thought everything would be with you. I always wanted everything to be with you. ”

“I know that it’s wrong, that I can’t move on”

“You left.”

“I left because I had to, Tom. I wasn’t made for this town. Neither were you. I left because we couldn’t be us here. I had hoped you would follow me,”

“I stayed for you. I thought you would come back. I thought you would always come back to me. And then you kept leaving,”

“I left, and when you didn’t follow I thought you gave up, and so I tried to. I tried to move on so hard, and now I’m sitting in a damn wedding dress six years later still trying to move on and I just can’t, and I’ll never be able to.”

“There’s something about you”

“If I tell you I love you, are you going to leave me again?”

“Not if I tell you first,”

“I love you. I have always loved you, and I know you love me too,”

“Unzip this dress. I need to call my mom. I love you, I’m not leaving you, but we are leaving this damn town. We’re too big for this town.”

“If the whole world was watching I’d still dance with you”

Five years was a long time.

They didn’t need five years.

Two years and a small town scandal later, she had bought another wedding dress, they had a new apartment, and they had everything they ever talked about on the roof.

“I can’t believe it took us this long to figure our shit out,” he said.

“I can’t believe you never pushed me off this roof for not telling you I love you,”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes,”

“Forever?”

“And always.”

“You’re spared for tonight. You’re lucky, you have lots of pictures to take tomorrow.”

This time, the text was different.

Now I REALLY cant do this one without you. I can’t wait to be yours for always.

-

“I can feel them watching,”

“Let them watch, darling,”

“Tom, I left someone at the altar two years ago. They all think this is wrong,”

“Do you think this is wrong?”

“Of course not.”

“Then who cares? We know this is right,”

“I know, but-“

“No buts. I would dance with you no matter who was watching, no matter what they were thinking. You’re all that matters to me.”

“You still make me nervous when you walk in the room”

“I’m home,”

She still gets butterflies when she sees him, and then they settle. When she sees him with a loose tie and messy hair, and a spot that he missed shaving, the butterflies calm down and she’s home.

“Everything comes back to you”

His stomach still flips when he walks in the door, and she’s there. And then he sees her with a book and a ponytail, with her glasses perched on her nose, with shorts and a t shirt, and he’s finally, after a long time, home.

“I need a dance tonight, darling.”

“Everything comes back to you”

@hollandroos

[butwhyduh]

I'm fine. Really! Part 1

Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: possible bad word. No smut.

Word count: 1634

Summary: based on the prompt "I can't believe you got shot" for @hollandroos 12k challange.

I'm not sure the number of parts to this fic. I'll try to get them out asap.

Field trips didn't come often in college. But when Peter Parker saw a flyer at the REC center to go paint ball shooting he jumped at the opportunity. He asked Ned first. Ned had a mid term test in British literature that he needed to study for. Next Peter asked you.

"Why would I want to go paint ball shooting? Doesn't it hurt?" You asked with your feet in Peter's lap in his dorm room. He was rubbing your feet as you both talked.

"I don't think so. People wouldn't do it otherwise," Peter said confidently. You had never even held a paint ball gun so you couldn't exactly argue. "It's on Saturday and it's only $15," he pleaded. You couldn't exactly deny his puppy dog brown eyes.

"Fine. I'm going to regret this but okay," you gave in. He grinned widely and tickled the bottom of your foot. Ned burst through the door with an armful of books.

"I hate British literature. Why do we need to learn this? We threw tea in the harbor for a reason," he huffed. Peter raised an eyebrow. "Oh sorry. Hi y/n."

"Hi Ned. So British literature, hu?" You said.

"Sorry to say this but F British literature and F British people in general," he said dropping the books on his desk.

"Are they really that bad?" Peter asked. "I mean there are probably some good British people. They aren't all evil villains, right?"

"Possibly. Everyone in these books are evil though."

"Y/n is going paintballing with me Saturday. I finally talked her into it," Peter said hugging you. You broke free and laughed.

"I have a feeling it's a bad decision. But that is what college is for right?" You justified. Ned nodded and smiled.

"Of course. I took British literature and you are going to go paintball."

"I think it's an awesome idea. That I came up with," Peter added. "Have you seen neighbors 2? Tyler let me borough it."

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

Peter always walked you back to your dorm. He was worried about you walking after dark alone. You always thought it was funny because he was the one to show up with cuts and bruises. He claimed he was clumsy and sometimes frat guys would mess with him.

But this particular day he had a microbiology lab that he couldn't miss. You chose to go to the library to study. The library was always half empty and silent so when it crept from evening to night you didn't notice. A library aid tapped you on the shoulder and you jumped.

"Sorry but we are closing," he whispered. You nodded and saved your work before packing up. You pulled on your jacket before walking out to the dark sidewalk. 11 o'clock at night was cool and quiet.

You quickly walked towards the street your dorm building was on. You noticed 2 young men walking behind you. You quickened your pace hoping they were simply going the same way as you. They quickened their walk as well. Your heart beat heavily in your chest.

Another young man hopped from the front steps of a house to stand right in front of you. You gasped and stopped. The other 2 men stood slightly behind you. Your eyes whipped wildly between the men.

"Don't scream and I won't shoot you," the man in front of you said lazily as he pulled a gun from his pocket. He didn't even bother pointing it at you. You threw your hands up and gasp. You were shaking all over.

"Take what...whatever you want," You sputtered as you pulled your backpack off your shoulder and drop it to the sidewalk. You pulled your watch off and dropped it on your bag. "My phone's in the backpack. I don't have anything else. Just... Just don't hurt me...please."

One guy grabbed the backpack roughly and you flinched. He slung it over his shoulder and put your watch on his arm.

"What are you doing dude?" The second guy asked.

The first one shrugged. "She offered it, man."

"We aren't here to steal your watch. Its not worth much anyways," the third man said.

"What do you want," you gulped hard.

"We want to catch a spider in his own web. You would make a great fly," he said stepping towards you. You back away from him. Your eyes looked for an escape route. You weren't the fastest and you didn't know of a near safe spot. The library was locked tight.

"I don't know what you are talking about," you said as your arms shook. "What spider?"

"I know Spider-Man follows you all the time. He must care for you to watch you that closely."

"Spider-Man? I don't know him. I don't know why he would follow me. Please," you said and then shrieked as he put an arm on you. A rope seemed to appear and knock the gun from his hand. The man looked around in confusion before being webbed to a wall.

The guy who had taken your backpack began running away and was also webbed to a wall. The third guy pulled a gun and began firing wildly. You fell to the pavement to avoid him. Spider-Man swung towards the ground and slid towards you both. He kicked the man's legs out from under him and webbed him to the sidewalk. Spider-Man grabbed the gun as if it would burn him and set it to the side. He webbed it to the sidewalk.

"Are you okay?" He asked coming to you. Other than a few scratches to your elbow from falling, you were fine. You nodded while trying to stop shaking. "Are you cold?" He asked.

"No I'm still freaking out. I almost got shot. Why do you follow me?" You asked as the man's words replayed in your head.

"Who said I follow you?" Spiderman asked with his voice an octave higher. He crossed his arms and uncrossed them nervously.

"That man did," you pointed to the guy on the sidewalk. "You sound familiar."

"No I'm not," he yelped. "You don't know me. I mean you know Spider-Man of course. But not me. Not that I'm not Spider-Man..."

"Peter. What the hell, man?" You said walking closer and having placed the voice.

"You know? I mean, I'm not this Peter guy..." he nervously picked at the gloves on his hand.

"You are my boyfriend. Of course I know," you said before grabbing at the mask. He jumped from your grasp.

"Not here! I don't want anyone else to know," He said. I should call the police for these guys. He pulled a phone out and phoned it in.

You stared are him the whole time. Sweet innocent Peter Parker is cracking knuckles on bad guys every night? How did he do the web thing? How did he get that suit? Is that blood?

"Peter, you're bleeding," you rushed to his side. A wet spot bloomed from the blue panel in his suit. He looked down and the eyes of his mask widened. You pressed your hand to it and he winced in pain. He sat on the sidewalk facing away from the bad guys and pulled his mask off.

"I think I've been shot," He said faintly. "Help me back to my dorm. The police will be here any minute."

"What? You've been shot. You need police to help," you said panicking. He shook his head and stood up slowly.

"I think it was a graze. You can patch me up at my room. Please y/n. Help me," he pleaded. "Spider-Man can't get caught."

Despit your better judgment you help him to his room through the fire escape. Both of you had blood smeared on your sides by the time you helped him lay down. Ned snored softly in the next bed. Peter panted heavily and pushed a button on the front of his suit. The suit became loose and you pulled it down to his waist. On his left side, right below his ribs, he leaked blood on the bed.

"Oh my gosh. What should I do," you asked.

"Get a towel and whatever bandages you have. Maybe alcohol or something," he added.

You ran to the bathroom and grabbed supplies before tending to him. You poured the alcohol on his side and he jumped and hissed. "Sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Its okay."

You push the towel down on the spot to stop the bleeding. Peter looked at you softly. He looked so exhausted. His young eyes had deep shadows and one side had a small cut. He had small blue and yellow bruises all over his torso that had different ages of healing. He clearly was getting hurt often.

"Peter," you said softly. "How long have you been doing this? How often are you hurt?" You ran a hand on a bruise on his forearm. He winced at the touch.

"A few years. I don't get hurt that much. This is the first time I've been shot though," he tried to laugh.

You looked at him sternly. "That's not that funny. Also, how long have you been watching me?"

"A few months," he answered seriously with his eyes warily on you.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Because I don't want you involved. If someone sees you with me, they could hurt you. I don't want to worry about you like that. You shouldn't have to worry about me. You deserve a normal boyfriend," he weakly laid a hand to your cheek. You leaned on it.

"I should check your side," you said slowly removing the towel. The wound wasn't near as bad as you thought. "It must have just grazed you. You aren't really bleeding as much anymore."

He looked down in relief. "Can you stay with me tonight? I don't want you walking alone."

"Of course."

[mbergansmile]

Worst Of You ( Tom Holland AU)

Disclaimer: THIS IS NOT GOING TO INCLUDE ANY SMUT.  I also apologise for misspelling or if I've misused grammar etc. 

Summary: Mr Holland is one of Englands many young bachelors. He is the current owner of the Family business that is Holland Enterprises. Y/N was looking for a job when a anons popped up in the morning papers. She was intrigued by the idea of working for a multimillionaire. She applied for the job and got. What would happen when Y/N steps a foot inside of Mr Holland’s life?

word count: 2024 

Playlist

So give me your worst excuses, any reason to stay

Give me your lips, they taste of her, I'll kiss them again

i’d rather you walk all over me than walk away

Give me the worst of you

Y/N stood outside of Holland enterprises. She was holding her breath, nervous to what was to come.

Once she steps inside that building everything is going to change. Y/N looks around to see if their might be anyone else who’s freeing out. It doesn’t look like it, she was the only one. So she thought until a Raven haired female walks up to her. She has a huge smile on her face and put her hand out. Y/N takes out the left headphone and looks up at the unfamiliar face.

“Uhh, do I know you?” She asks, you never know who you might piss off. The girl chuckles and brings Y/N into a hug.

“No but you will. Y/N right?” Y/N nodded, still not sure weather or not she should run. Can’t say the thought haven’t crossed her mind. 

“How exactly do you know my name?” The mysterious girl grabs Y/N ’s arm and starts to walk to the entrance.

“I’m Tabitha, I will be your first day guide”

“My first……” Y/N stops herself immediately understanding what’s going on.

“Yeah, and we pretty much need to hurry , Mr holland does not like to be kept waiting” 

They both walk into the warm building. When you enter the building you will be greeted with a wooden smell. The lobby looked like a 6 star hotel lobby (is those even existed). There was some sort of water fountain in the middle of the room. The ceiling was covered in vintage victorian painting. There were business men running around in black or grey suit and tie’s. Everything seemed so impeccable, it was almost to hard to comprehend. Yanking Y/N out of her mental notes, Tabitha dragged her to the reception.

“Hey, Janice what’s up. How are the cats ?” Tabitha said, Janice didn’t looks as amused as her. Janice was the receptionist who looks like she could be in her late 40’s.

“Miss Williams, it's always a pleasure having you bother me” Janice keeps her eyes on the computer. Not even bothering to look up.

“Well, today is a special day Janice, Mr Holland has a new assistant” Tabitha explained. Janice looks up at Y/N before looking back at Tabitha. They both started chattering. 

Y/N of course could not hear anything, she was to busy watching Mr Holland enter the building. He look troubled almost worried about something. He had a coffee stain on his suit ,walking in distress he was trying to get rid of it with a napkin. He looked up and gave Y/N a stern look. Her eyes follow him until he's out of sight.

"Y/N , hello you there" Tabitha waved a hand in front of Y/N. Y/N looks at Tabitha with a smile.

"He's a real beauty isn't he " Tabitha hands Y/N the office keys, and her staff id.

"Uh" Y/N asked as the walked down the hallway.

"Mr Holland, I saw you starring at him" Y/N's cheeks started to go red of embarrassment. Right now she wanted to be at home with her dog and Netflix.

Tabitha spent the next few minuets showing Y/N around, they are standing in front of a huge wooden door. The door leads to Mr Holland's office. Mr Holland was currently writing letters of recommendations to his interns.

"I heard once , that he fired on of his interns for not closing his door" Tabitha says, intimidation ran through Y/N 's mind.                                                           

    They opened the door and stepped inside. As stated earlier Mr Holland sat by his desk writing his letters.

"What have I said about opening the door without permission" He spat? Both of the girl stood still, not even moving a muscle. He looks up once he realises he won't get an answer.

" Who the hell are you ?" Even though he was speaking to the both of them he only looked at Y/N.

" Uh, sir they instructed me to show your new assistant to your office" Tabitha speaks up. Mr Holland gives away small ' Humf ' before locking eyes with Y/N who was still silent.

" She mute or something?" he asks and Y/N scoffs.

" Well, then, you've delivered her, you may leave now " Mr Holland said . Tabitha hugs Y/N goodbye before walking out and closing the door.                   

Y/N let's out a sign and walks over to the table where Mr Holland is sitting.  

"Sit" he orders and she does as she's told. Y/N looks around the office. The first things her eye spots in how big the office actually is. It's the size of a 1800s ballroom. Most of the walls were glass except this one are where there was a wooden wall, a meter high book shelf stood in front of it. His desk was medium sized mahogany wood. He didn't have much on his desk. The few things he did have was a built-in lamp , his coffee cup, some document and a photo of him and some woman. The woman looked like might have been around Y/N age, she might've even been older.

Behind the chair Y/N was sitting in there was a small grey 'cozy corner' sofa. The office would've been homier if she wasn't to distracted being afraid.

"Tell me , Miss..." Mr Holland paused and looked up at Y/N for name confirmation.

" Oh Miss Y/L/N "

"Well how come you wanted to work here?" Mr Holland goes back to his letters, not even bothered to look at the person he was talking to. Y/N cleared her voice , not sure what she should answer exactly.

“Yeah well, I saw the help wanted anons in the morning paper. figured , why not” Rubbing her hands against her thigh nervously. Y/N doesn’t get easily intimidated, but there was something about Mr Holland that made her nervous. He didn’t say ask her anything else.

“I suppose you know where your station is” Mr Holland said.

Y/N shakes her head and looks down at her feet. Mr Holland sights.

“Right outside those door, there’s a desk. That is where you’ll spend most of your time” He still wasn’t looking at her. Y/N turned her heal and walked out.

 “So what , he barley paid any attention you whatsoever?” Tabitha asked. Y/N were on a twenty minuet break and had found Tabitha one her way out. The went to get coffee and went for a walk.

“Nope” Y/N answers. She presses her hands against the mug to warm her hands in the cold Autumn weather. Tabitha doesn’t ask anymore questions about Mr Holland. She came to the conclusion than it makes Y/N uncomfortable. They walk for a few more minuets when Tabitha spots the clock.

“Hey, when were you supposed to be back?”

“Holy shit I’m late” Y/N runs over to office. What if he fires her, what is he has to find another job that pays 80 dollars an hour. She enter’s the building and presses her id again the scanner. Y/n Speed-walked  over to the office.  All she could think about was how disappointed her mother would be if she got fired on her first day. She carefully opens the wooden door. Mr Holland hadn’t moved, he didn’t move. When Y/N entered the room he barley flinched or looked to see who it was. It’s almost like she was invisible to him.

“i called on you” he says. Y/N fiddles with her fingers, she doesn’t want to look him in the eyes. “i’m sorry” she whispered. Mr Holland stood up and walked over to Y/N, he stopped only inches away.

“i’m sorry , I couldn’t hear you” He moves in closer.

“ Uh, i’m sorry” Y/N raises her voice slightly and steps back a little. Mr Holland finds it cute how intimidating she finds him. His chuckle has a  wicked tone. Mr Holland steps away from Y/N and walks back to his seat.

“ 2 hours “ He said.

“ 2 hours?” Y/N had no idea what he meant by two hours.

“You’ll stay 2 extra hours today as your punishment” he explains. Y/N doesn’t say anything, she walks back to her desk and closes the door behind her.           

-few hours later-                                                                                                  

“Miss y/l/n , could you please come in here” Y/N stands up and walked over to Mr Holland. 

“yes, how may I be of your assistants?”  

“Could you please cancel dinner with my mother I’ll be stuck here for a while, oh and get me some coffee?” Even if he used words like ‘please’ he still sounded unbothered and closed off. You could tell but the mountain of papers he was burring himself in. Tabitha told Y/n that Mr Holland rarely leaves his office unless it is to go see his wife. Which she assumes was the woman in the photograph. It’s sad actually, how he spends most of his time working instead of being out with friends. Who knows maybe he just doesn’t have any friends.

“well, stop starring and do as asked” He said and Y/n jumped. She nodded and walked back out.                                                                                            

Meanwhile Mr Holland was sitting behind his desk doing anything but work. He was on the phone with his best mate Harrison.

“Haz, there must be something we could do”

“sorry Tom nothing you can do, unless there’s a way for you to scratch up the money” Harrison informed his friend. In frustration Tom slammed his fist into his desk, in that moment Y/N appears with a cup of coffee in her hand. Tom looked at her, noticing little things he hadn’t noticed before. Like the way her hair lands perfectly on her shoulders.The way she bite the inside of her lips when she’s nervous. The was she stood there even affected him. She was beautiful there was no doubt about that. Something about her innocents that made him want her even more.  

“Haz, I'll  have to call you back” Tom hangs up on Harrison.

 He places both of his palms on the desk and look at Y/N. He walks over to her again, standing as close to her as he did before. Like earlier Y/N moves back, but this time Tom stops her before she could.

“Tell me, is anyone special in your life” Tom asks her, Y/N blushes, shakes her head in response. Y/N hadn’t been dating for a long time. she’s been so busy with family and friends that relationships seemed out of the question.

“No one” he whispered and moved in closed.

“i-i should get back to my desk” She says and lightly shoves Tom out of the way. But before she leaves Tom grabs her by the wrist and slams his lips against hers. He places his arm around her waist and presses her body against his. They stood in that position in what felt like forever.

Y/n brakes way from the kiss and looks everywhere but into Tom’s brown eyes.

“i have to go”

“y/n” Tom said , still having her body closely pressed against his. She didn’t say anything but Tom knew she was listening.                                                                

“ No one can know “ 

A/N 

I might post a second part because wow I just have so much for this story. Also I'm sorry for the cheesy- ness if this story and how bad it is lool . ok by now 

@hollandroos

[hillywooddestiel]

Low Swings

Characters: Peter Parker x reader (platonic), Tony (briefly)

Warnings: there aren’t really any, just Peter feeling a little down I guess and lots of sarcasm

Word count: 1.6k

Description: When you work with a partner, it’s hard to prevent things from getting competitive. Things are no different in the world of superheroes. It may start as a silly race to see who is the best for the purposes of bragging rights but sometimes, the race can overtake your judgement.

A/N: Hello again! This is for two different challenges (@until-theend-oftheline Kari’s 1k MCU writing challenge and @hollandroos Soph’s 12k writing challenge). Congratulations to you both on the milestones and my prompts are in bold below. Little disclaimer, I wrote a Peter Parker fic a while ago and stole the reader character from that for her powers and personality. You can read it as a prequel, sequel whatever but the two stories are not linked. Enjoy xx Marvel Masterlist

Story:

“I got him!” Y/N speaks seemingly to no one while keeping her eyes locked on the man in the balaclava sprinting below her in the alley. She jumps gracefully from building to building with practiced ease, managing the large gaps like a child hopping across a small puddle. Her movement is reminiscent of a cat leaping from one climbing post to another.

“I thought you said I could get this one! I have to be able to tell Mr Stark I’m doing my job!” Peter whines into her earpiece, swinging from his webs a few blocks away. He was busy chasing down yet another bike thief across town when Karen informed him of a man armed with a gun escaping the scene of a robbery and that Y/N was on her way. No way was he going to let her get the guy first.

“And so do I! I can’t help it that I’m better than you.” She rolls her eyes, not that he can see but he should be used to it by now, before glancing back to see the red and blue clad hero getting closer. Immediately she picks up the pace in response, increasing the strain on her muscles and lungs. The pain she’ll feel tomorrow is worth it though, to get a ‘well done kiddo’ from Stark and rights to rub it in Parker’s smug face until the next time. The conviction tally currently stands 27:26 to Y/N. Not that anyone’s counting or anything like that.

“Please! I’ll do your homework for a week.” He pleads, the thwip of his web shooters audible in the background through the earpiece.

“Sure, cos I want lower grades than I’m currently getting.” Y/N taunts. Spotting a chance to get closer, she leaps down to a rusty fire escape and swiftly descends the ladder. Upon hearing her footsteps clanging on the metal, the criminal’s eyes widen in fear and he speeds up. Somebody wasn’t expecting super heroes to be in the area.

“I’ll buy you a pizza!”

“Tempting but no.”

“I’ll stop calling you Frazzles!”

“No! You’re not having this one!”

“Aw come on Frazzles!” Peter takes a break on top of a satellite tower to watch the chase and plan his next move. Y/N is quickly gaining on the guy despite not having the same enhanced capabilities as Peter (such as his stamina and speed) and she hasn’t even had to zap him yet with one of her self-produced lasers- show off! Amazingly, this thief is still going after running from the scene of the robbery nearly twenty minutes ago (most people get tired after five or make a mistake with a wrong turn that lands them in the arms of the police or a sticky web). Perhaps they’re one of the various people with powers emerging across the city.

Peter spies an opportunity coming up ahead on the next turn to land him the capture and immediately swings in it’s direction. Y/N notices his change of course straight away in her peripheral vision.

“Spidey, what are you doing?” she asks, mentally kicking herself for not being suspicious of the radio silence. Silence often- scratch that- always means he’s up to something.

“My job!” He grunts with the effort, swinging feet first into Y/N and knocking her flying sideways. She lands inside an open locker unceremoniously on her ass with a crash. Only Peter misjudged the strength needed to sabotage his partner and flies in after her, landing on top of her in fact, with the metal door hinges whining shut. The lock clicks, trapping them inside.

“Ah my ankle!” He hisses into the pitch black.

“Oh boo hoo! At least you didn’t have a 200 pound spider kick you in the chest and land on top of you!” Y/N huffs aggressively, smacking him over the head to get him to move.

“I can’t see.”

“Great detective work genius! Hang on…” Y/N scowls, producing light from her hands as easy and taking a breath. The locker is very small leaving little to no room for personal space and it stinks like an unattended public toilet.

“Mr Stark is not gonna be happy with us…”

“Us? I’m sorry, how did we end up locked in here? Oh that’s right; you attacked me!”

“I was just trying to get you out of the way so I could get the guy first. I didn’t think-”

“Yeah, you didn’t think. You didn’t focus on the mission, you focused on beating me. Not everything is a contest Parker.” Y/N’s voice softens. She looks to Peter noticing his downtrodden attitude.

“I just… I really want to impress Mr Stark. If I do really well, he might actually make me an Avenger for real.”

“Peter…” she starts, feeling guilty for snapping at him earlier.

Peter always says he wants to be an Avenger, ever since he came back from Germany, it’s a constant thing. Y/N was offered the chance to go as well but she was so close to busting a drug ring in the city that she had to turn it down (she also didn’t want to join in the fight for Tony’s sake since she actually sided with Steve). Once they returned home, Stark introduced her to Peter as someone to work with but also as someone to keep a close eye on. Things soon inevitably became competitive between the pair.

“Okay, I can’t believe I’m about to say this… you can get the next one.” Peter’s head perks up from where it was rested in his hands.

“Wait really?”

“Really. Now let’s get out of here.” Y/N turns to face the door again. She takes a deep breath, focusing her energy on her outstretched palm and feeling the warmth concentrating in the center. The soft light becomes a streamlined beam and slices through the metal door like a hot knife through butter. Her line is shaky but eventually she cuts out a small doorway allowing herself and Peter to escape their dank prison.

Avoiding the burning white melted metal, the duo step out into the alley again, the criminal they were chasing nowhere to be seen. Typical- they never stick around for their local crime fighters and wait to be caught. The only life in the shady corner is a stray black and white kitten.

“Where do you think he went?” Peter asks, scanning the nearby area for heat signatures with the help of his suit.

“I dunno! I’ll interrogate the cat.” Y/N kneels down and coaxes the kitty over by clicking her tongue, stroking it’s fluffy fur gingerly with her outstretched hand, “Hey buddy, are you lost? Can we help you find your home?”

“It’s a stray Frazzles. Keep stroking it and it’ll follow us home.” Peter rolls his eyes behind his mask.

“Do you need a home? You can come with me if you want.” She smiles as the kitten purrs in her hand, her voice becoming increasingly more babyish.

“Y/N! Let’s go!”

“Hold on!” She scoops up the ball of fur, “Consider this mission a success, we saved Catasha Meowmanoff from a life on the streets.”

“Your mom isn’t going to let you keep it ya know?”

“That’s why she’s not going to find out. And you’re not going to tell her!” Y/N warns Peter, a threatening tone detectable in her voice as she lowers the kitten to the floor. She prowls around the bedroom floor and sniffs the hanging bed sheets with uncertainty, tiny claws catching on the soft carpet. A flash of red catches her eye and she pounces on it, swatting at the light with her little paws in the hopes of capturing it. The said light originates from Peter’s suit and he grins like a child as Catasha almost climbs the wall to get at the laser.

“Ok, I’ll admit she’s pretty cute.”

“See!” Y/N grins victorious, ”… But it goes without saying, no one is to find out about the name. Especially Natasha. I’d like to keep my head attached to my shoulders.” Y/N absentmindedly rubs her hand over the back of her head, right over the spot when Nat last swatted her with a magazine (she set Nat’s ringtone to ‘Black Widow’ by Rita Ora and the world class assassin heard it go off when they both happened to be at the compound at the same time).

“I think she’d probably kill me too so yeah, deal.” Peter scratches Catasha behind her ears, knowing very well of Natasha’s capabilities. But, as much as he would love to play with a ball of fur, there are people to save and crimes to stop so he has to leave. Mask on, Peter steps out onto the fire escape outside Y/N’s bedroom window just as he gets an incoming call alert for Tony Stark.

“Peter! I trust you and Sunshine are playing nicely. I have a new job for you two, organised gang fights in condemned buildings near you. You are still interested in helping out the ‘neighborhood’ as a ‘friendly’ crime fighter, right?” He can tell there were some air quotes made on Tony’s end of the line.

“Yeah yeah y-yeah I’m-I- we’ll get on it right away Mr Stark, sir.”

“Mrrow!”

“What was that?”

“A cat. Stray cat. Not a house cat, a stray cat. Stray, not a pet.” Peter fumbles with his words while Y/N glares at him with eyes begging him to shut up.

“Right… keep up the good work kid.” Tony hangs up; he’s a busy man after all. Looking to Y/N through the mask, his white spider eyes widen.

“We’ve got another job to do.”

[iamnesta]

SUMMER. (pt. 1)

Prompt: “You’re hiding something and I don’t know what it is but I’m sick of the lies.”

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 2.9k+

Warnings: Mild language. Infinity War spoilers. 

A/N: Sam Wilson deserves more love, so I decided to write about him for @hollandroos‘s 12k Writing Challenge. This piece takes place after Thanos’s snap and describes Sam’s time in the afterlife or whatever parallel universe the soul stone took him to. I may have used Anthony Mackie’s comment about Jamaica from the dreaded ACE Comic Con panel as inspiration. I apologize in advance if this fanfic is boring; it’s more of a character-driven story than a plot-driven story. Anywho, I hope I do Sam’s character justice, as this is my first time writing for him. Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

***

Death was far less painful than Sam Wilson imagined it would be. He had been dragging himself across the forest floor of Wakanda, his fingers clutching at dirt and brush as he desperately tried to haul himself upright, and then — nothing. Darkness enveloped his mind and body, caressing his skin and pressing chilly kisses against his cheeks. He felt weightless, his limbs held aloft by some unknown force, the once-incessant pounding in his skull now gone. If he had known dying would be this pleasant, Sam would never have feared it. He may have even welcomed it.

Thoughts drifted through Sam’s head but floated away before they fully formed. Soon, he had no recollection of who he had once been. His struggles and successes were eaten up by that soft, encompassing darkness until he was nothing but a name. The rage and guilt and sorrow that had plagued Sam when he was alive vanished, and the sensation was so liberating that he did not notice when he could no longer recognize his friends’ laugher or his mother’s face.

All of Sam’s cares and worries had spiraled into nothing like smoke on a summer breeze; he lost any concept of time as seconds or hours or decades passed. Eventually, the comfort of cold shadows slowly melted away and Sam’s body began to regain its normal heaviness, though his soul remained airy and light and empty.

Wooden slats dug into Sam’s bare back as he lay beneath a harsh sun that heated his bones. A salty wind lazily soothed the sweat already beginning to pinprick Sam’s skin, the sound of gulls and gently rolling waves lapping against a sandy shore reawakening his senses. He cracked his eyes open, blinking rapidly and bringing a hand up to protect his gaze from the bright white light that beat down on him.

Sam eased himself into a seated position, observing the reclined chair beneath him and the thin linen shorts he wore. In front of him a calm blue-green ocean burbled happily, and everywhere else there was fine, pale sand that stretched for miles. For as far as Sam could see, the beach was flat and empty, completely devoid of any life other than himself.

Once, Sam might have found the abandoned expanse of land and utter lack of human voices or activity to be eerie. But as he swung his legs over the side of the chair and buried his toes in the scalding sand, all Sam felt was peace within his deceased heart.

With nothing else to do, Sam began to walk along the surf of the sea, savoring every deep inhale of briny air.

He walked until the sun fell and the sky blackened, billions upon billions of stars blinking to life. Sam was not tired, but he lowered himself to the ground nonetheless, curling up in the frothing foam and willing his eyelids to slide shut.

The warm water crept forward, sliding over Sam’s legs and shoulders and neck. Salt clung to his lips, although perhaps the saline was from the tears sliding down the bridge of his nose rather than the ocean waves. Sam did not know why he was crying, as he had no memories, but the sobs wracked his entire body. He wrapped his arms around his knees and hugged himself tight, his breath slowing as sleep claimed him.

***

Sam was sixteen and sitting in the kitchen of his childhood home in Harlem. He was wearing ratty plaid pajama pants and a t-shirt depicting the album art of an old jazz musician as he hurriedly shoveled cereal into his mouth. He was hoping to finish breakfast and slip out the back door before —

“Sam, baby?” His mother poked her head into the cramped kitchen, immediately frowning when she saw him scarfing down cheerios in his sleepwear. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

Glancing guiltily at his mother’s church attire and the decorative blue hat she held in her hands, Sam said, “I’m not going to church today, Mama.”

Mrs. Wilson’s face twisted and her cheeks reddened as if she had just been slapped. Her voice was low and deadly, fury fluttering beneath her words as she uttered, “Excuse me?”

Sam sat up a little straighter. “I said I’m not going to church with you.”

A child’s hands appeared, little fingers grasping at her mother’s skirt as Sarah Wilson peered into the room to stare at her eldest brother. From the hall, Minister Wilson called, “Is everybody ready? If we don’t leave soon, we’re gonna be late.”

Sam’s mother crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. “Samuel says he ain’t goin’. Thinks he’s above the Lord, now.”

“Mama,” Sam tried to protest, his spoon falling from his hand and hitting the bottom of the bowl noisily.

Another head poked its way into the kitchen doorway, and the middle Wilson child declared, “If Sam’s not goin’ to church, then I’m not either!”

Mrs. Wilson gave Sam a withering glare before turning and saying in a placating voice, “Gideon, baby, if you wanna be a minister like your daddy then you gotta go to church.”

Gideon looked down, kicking at the floor with the toe of one of his scuffed dress shoes. “I don’t wanna be a minister like Daddy,” he said under his breath.

Before Mrs. Wilson could start yelling, Minister Wilson squeezed himself into the doorway. He placed one of his large hands on his wife’s shoulder and ruffled his daughter’s messy curls with the other. “What’s going on?”

“Tell your eldest son to get off his ass and get ready for church,” Mrs. Wilson demanded.

Minister Wilson tilted his head to one side, squinting his eyes and running his tongue along his lower lip like he always did when he was thinking. “What’s wrong, son?”

Sam slouched in his chair, the woven wicker seat groaning beneath him. “I just don’t wanna go,” he muttered.

“What was that, boy?” Mrs. Wilson snapped.

“Hey, now,” Minister Wilson tried to cool his wife’s temper before it could fully explode.

Mrs. Wilson stepped away from her husband’s touch and stalked closer to Sam, her expression stormy. “I just don’t understand why Samuel thinks he’s so high an’ mighty all of a sudden,” she seethed, “What’s wrong with goin’ to church, huh? Got a problem with God?”

Sam’s nostrils flared, his jaw clenching with anger. His gaze darted to his father, who was still contemplating the situation at hand, before returning to his livid mother. “I ain’t got a problem with God, Mama.”

“Then what is it?” She snarled. “I didn’t raise no heathen.”

Uncoiling from the corner of the kitchen that he had shrunken into, Sam sprung to his feet and yelled, “It’s not God, Mama, it’s you! I got a problem with you. You act like there ain’t nothin’ wrong so long as we got food on the table and the Lord up above. You’re blind, Mama! People — our people — are dying out there and you just turn the other way be-because what? You think black men and women would stop being shot at if they started prayin’ like you do? I’m sorry, but that’s bullshit!”

“You watch your mouth, boy,” Mrs. Wilson breathed, fury simmering in her deep brown gaze. Beside her, Gideon’s face was torn between awe and horror at his brother’s recklessness, and Sarah looked like she was about to cry. 

Minister Wilson had been watching the exchange very carefully, his infinite wisdom missing nothing. He cleared his throat. “Darlene,” he said sharply, “Let’s get goin’ now. I got a service to preach in fifteen minutes. Samuel’s old enough to make his own decisions; he can stay home if he wants to.”

Mrs. Wilson gritted her teeth but didn’t argue. “Sarah, Gideon, let’s go,” she ordered, taking each of them by the hand and storming out of the room. Neither child dared to argue as they scrambled to keep up with their mother.

Sam slowly met his father’s gaze, his shoulders tense with fear of what he would say. Minister Wilson, however, simply looked sad. Understanding filled his eyes, and he gestured for his son to come forward. Sam tentatively stepped in front of his father. He froze with surprise as Minister Wilson swept him into a tight embrace. When the shock wore off, Sam wrapped his arms around his father’s shoulders.

“I know it’s not easy, son,” Minister Wilson murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “The world is a fucked up place and your mama…well, she doesn’t always know how to cope with it.” Minister Wilson pulled away so he could examine Sam properly. Tears shone in both of their eyes. “Stay strong for me, Sam-boy, a’ight? We’ll make it through this.”

Sam nodded, not trusting himself to speak without crying. With a final smile, Minister Wilson clapped Sam on the shoulder and left. This would be the last time Sam ever saw his father.

***

A gull shrieked and a violent wave crashed against the sand, startling Sam awake. He gasped, his throat working, his fists opening and closing, all of his muscles tight from a visceral reaction to a dream he could not remember. Squinting up at the sun, his brain wracked itself for some recollection of the images that had played on the backs of his eyelids just moments before. But nothing surfaced, and the hollowness that rested beneath Sam’s ribcage remained.

Beside him, a page crinkled as it turned.

Sam scrambled to sit up and looked over at the source of the noise. You sat atop a wooden chair identical to his, your legs crossed one over the other and a magazine balanced on your knees. Oversized sunglasses perched themselves on the bridge of your nose, but your feet were bare and you wore an outfit made of the same white linen as Sam’s shorts. You licked your slightly chapped lips and turned another page.

“Hello,” Sam said, his voice rough with disuse. You did not reply; you didn’t even glance his way. Frowning, Sam slid his legs off the side of his chair so that he way fully facing you. He cleared his throat and tried again: “Hello.”

A sigh hissed through your teeth. “Hello,” you echoed, your attention never drifting from the magazine.

Many quiet minutes passed. You continued flipping pages and Sam stared at you as if expecting you to start explaining who you were and what this place was. When you didn’t speak up, Sam introduced himself, “My name is Sam. Sam Wilson.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, contemplating whether or not you should reply. Finally, you said, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Where are we?” Sam asked.

“Paradise.” Your gaze flickered briefly toward him. “Yours, specifically.”

Sam’s forehead creased as his brows drew together in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

It was as if Sam’s mind was short circuiting. He had no idea what events had led to his arrival in this so-called paradise, but when he pressed his fingers to the inside of his wrist, the shadow of a pulse still persisted. If he was not dead, then he must be —

A bitter smile twisted your mouth, your focus never shifting from the magazine in your lap. “You aren’t dreaming.”

Sam’s expression remained baffled. “If this is my paradise,” he said slowly, “Then why are you here?”

You coughed, amusement coloring your words as you replied, “I would imagine it’s difficult to come up with entirely unique utopias for half the universe. But I’ll try not to be too offended that you’d rather spend eternity alone.”

“Eternity?” Sam echoed, that dreadful, lonely word heavy with despair.

There was a pause. Then, rather abruptly, you snapped your magazine shut and stood up. Folding the glossy papers and tucking them beneath your arm, you tilted your head and gestured toward Sam with coaxing fingers. “Follow me.”

Sam obliged, trailing after you as you led him away from the water. The journey proceeded in silence, the only sounds coming from the shifting sand underfoot. After what felt like hours, you stopped atop a particularly large dune, smiling softly as Sam’s feet froze and his jaw dropped. Before him lay a sprawling oasis, towering palm trees casting shade over tiny waterfalls that cascaded into a natural pool of sparkling blue. A quaint, wooden structure with a straw roof and honey-gold fairy lights dotting the porch railing overlooked the slice of perfection.

You spread your arms wide and said proudly, “Welcome to your paradise, Sam Wilson. It takes the form of wherever you feel most at peace.”

A low, impressed whistle slipped from Sam’s lips, and he felt as if he were levitating as he entered the oasis. The beauty of the land surrounding him was more than surreal — it was impossible. But as you pushed past him and marched over to the glittering pool, Sam forgot about impossibility and instead joined you by the rocks bordering the water.

Sitting on a large, flat stone, you dangled your feet in the pool, kicking them absentmindedly and creating ripples along the otherwise tranquil surface. The magazine from earlier was once again open and resting upon your thighs, your rapt gaze fervently scanning its pages.

Sam lowered himself beside you, leaving a comfortable space between your bodies. He stole glances at the paper that had ensnared your attention, but the magazine appeared to be entirely blank; each page that you flipped was completely white. He couldn’t help but wonder aloud, “Why’re you reading a blank magazine?”

You blinked up at him, looking mildly surprised. “Is that what you see?”

Sam frowned, scooting closer to you by a fraction of an inch. “What are you seeing?”

Taking one last peek at the magazine before shutting it and setting it out of reach, you gave Sam a strained smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes. But your voice still sounded cool and unruffled as you replied, “Just a blank magazine. Shall we?” You gestured toward the glinting water.

Something snagged in Sam’s mind, and he couldn’t help the inexplicable apprehension that washed over him. The feeling was heavy, palpable — he could taste the wrongness on his tongue. But the more he tried to place where the foreboding in his gut had come from, the less it seemed to plague him. Eventually the sensation wilted and withered away, the lingering residue of uneasiness gobbled up by the glaring sun.

Shaking himself out of his daze, Sam squinted at you. “Sorry?”

You let out a breathy laugh and pushed yourself off the rock, gracefully slipping into the pool. “Come on,” you urged him, “It’s nice.”

Sam sighed, but followed you nonetheless. The water was not very deep, and only reached the middle of his torso. Small waves lapped at his ribcage, the temperature pleasant and cooling in the dense heat. He peered down at his hands through the translucent, aquamarine water, the corners of his lips tugging upward in a bemused smile at the sight of his fingers appearing to ripple and bend.

When Sam lifted his gaze, he found you already watching him from where you stood a few feet away. You looked pensive, your brows pinched and your mouth pulled into a tiny frown. Sensing his shift in focus, you quickly wiped away your concern. “Eternity here doesn’t seem so bad, right?” You asked, trying to keep your words casual and devoid of the hope that gripped your heart.

Tipping his head back and closing his eyes, Sam breathed deeply. “I guess it could be worse.”

Without even thinking about it, you confessed, “Honestly, this place is everything I needed after what happened.” 

The instant the sentence left your lips you knew it had been a mistake. You swore inwardly, mentally bashing yourself for your stupidity. Sam straightened abruptly, his attention snapping to you. His voice was low as he uttered, “What?”

You shrugged, suddenly finding your nails extremely interesting. Your eyes darted to him before swiftly lowering once more. “Never mind.”

Sam surged toward you, ignoring your alarm as you steadily backed away. He halted when you were pressed against the edge of the spring and he could feel your rapid breathing on his chest. He didn’t say anything for a moment, fighting the startling impulse to glance down at your body, which was now on full display since the water had turned your white clothes transparent. He struggled to keep his voice even and prayed that he wasn’t staring at your lips as he demanded, “What do you mean after what happened?”

You gulped nervously. “I don’t — nothing. I don’t know. Forget it.”

The two of you lapsed into a tense silence, frozen in place and unwilling to back down. Finally, you tore your gaze away from Sam’s and looked toward the sky. Calmly, you remarked, “It’s going to rain tomorrow.”

Sam glanced upward. The sky was an endless swath of cloudless, brilliant blue. “Doesn’t look like it,” he told you.

A taunting smirk quirked your lips. “Wanna bet?”

With an annoyed grunt, Sam turned away. You watched as he heaved himself out of the pool and onto the rocky shore, water sluicing off his body and dripping in his wake as he began to walk away. “I’m gonna go explore,” he said over his shoulder.

Your shoulders slumped with disappointment, although you weren’t entirely sure why you were so crestfallen to see him leave. It wasn’t like you were friends with him; all you knew about Sam was what you remembered from when you were alive, and your memory was hazy at best.

You sighed. “Have fun,” you called dully after Sam.

***

Part Two (coming soon!)

[marvelofawritersblock]

Writing challenge

I am participating in a Marvel writing challenge and I have a Tom Hiddleston x Reader coming up. Be on the look out for it. I'm gonna probably be writing a lot of Marvel fics now. Some with OC's some with the Reader. I may even do a Peter Q x Gamora. If you don't like Marvel and are not interested you can unfollow me. I don't mind. You were originally here for Voltron anyways.

[hollandroos]

Currently writing the sophs12k thing and by deciding the plot I used one of those lucky spinny wheels and wrote down each of the options of how the story will go and so far it’s all so angst. This is my life now. I chose this. -🌑

I love you so much and I can’t express that enough. Your asks make my day- If there’s anything you want to tell me, Tell me now! :)

[sasha7890]

Didn’t See it Coming

This is for @hollandroos writing challenge Peter Parker Oneshot

Fem!reader insert

“I’m hurt, I can’t- fuck.”

“No, you’ll be okay, yeah? hold on for a bit longer.”

-warnings- angst, swearing, violence, injury

A/N: I’m sorry if my medical facts aren’t 100% accurate! Google only helps so much :/

Y/n’s pov

It’s weird to say that today had been another “normal” HYDRA battle, but it was. HYDRA had sent out agents looking for mutants to kidnap, and the Avengers had been sent in to stop them. We weren’t outnumbered, they weren’t quick enough, and it was obvious we were going to win this fight. That was until I got shot.

Backing up a little bit; we had contained what we thought was all of HYDRA’s agents, and we were getting ready to ship them off to a nice prison somewhere in the middle of the pacific ocean. My boyfriend, Peter Parker also known as Spiderman, was leading the cuffed agents into the armoured truck while I followed behind the group. Tony and the rest of the team were already on the quinjet waiting for us.

Turns out we missed one agent with incredibly good aim.

Two gunshots went off. I turned towards the sound as I feel a flash of pain in my stomach and right bicep. Normally, I can manipulate others’ minds. If I had seen someone aiming a gun at me, I would’ve convinced them not to shoot, and instead drop their weapon. I didn’t get that chance here.

“Dammit,” I curse as I drop to my knees and grip my stomach with my left arm. Blood starts to drip down my right arm and pools around me. Next thing I know, Peter is on his knees in front of me with his hand putting pressure on the hole in my arm.

“Fuck y/n, look at me. What happened??” Peter’s asking me while trying to keep me awake and looking at him.

“Didn’t...see...him…” I choke out, but it’s getting harder and harder to breath, and I can’t focus on Peter.

“Come on babe, you gotta get up. We gotta get you to the jet. Come on please!” He’s holding me up completely by this point.

“I’m hurt, I can’t- fuck.”

“No, you’ll be okay, yeah? hold on for a bit longer.” I nod at him, but I’m slumped in his arms. He’s using his earpiece to call over Mr. Stark and the rest of the team, but I couldn’t tell you what they’re saying. Black starts to form around the edges of my vision and my breathing becomes shallow. There’s a lot of movement, which I assume is Peter carrying me to the quinjet. He sets me down and there’s a lot of hands touching me. Some are shaking me, one’s putting an IV in my arm, another is trying to get pieces of my suit off so they can get to the bullet wounds, and one more is brushing my hair out of my face. The pain becomes too much and I pass out.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Peter’s pov

I should’ve been watching her. I should’ve done more. I was so tired, and I just wanted the mission to be over. And now she’s on life support.

She passed out on the quinjet, despite all of our pleas for her to stay awake. Tony began checking her vitals. 38% blood loss, which is bad. Decreasing blood pressure, very bad. BPM of 132, still bad. Tony orders everyone but Bruce out, but they have to drag me kicking and screaming.

“HELP HER! Help her, please!” I plead as I bang on the door, “She’s everything to me.” I sink to the floor and pull my knees to my chest, “I need her.” There’s no way to stop the tears running down my face.

Once we land she’s rushed off to the medical bay by Tony and Bruce. I go to follow them, but Natasha pulls me back, “They’ll fix her, don’t worry.” I look back at the door and nod. The rest of the team starts to clean up the jet, and I head back to my room.

Normally y/n would come back to my room with me, we’d help each other clean ourselves up, and we’d sleep off the exhaustion we gained on the mission. But she’s not here, so walking back to our room feel even more exhausting. I don’t have the energy to shower, so I just sit and stare at the walls. This feels useless. I feel useless. I’m Spiderman. I help people everyday, but there’s nothing I can do to help my own girlfriend.

There’s a knock at my door, and Tony’s standing there. “She’s stable, but she’s in a medically induced coma. We’re trying to see if her body will start to repair itself, with the help of her powers.” I physically feel a weight lifter from my shoulders. “You can go see her,” Tony didn’t need to finish that sentence before I was out the door. She’s going to be okay.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~2 weeks later~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I sit with her everyday. The only time I leave is to go get food, and even then sometimes Tony brings me food so I don’t have to leave. Her condition had been increasing, and Dr. Banner says she should wake up any day now. I miss her so much, but the entire has definitely noticed her absence. There’s not as much laughter in the tower. Her contagious smile is long overdue.

As if on cue, her heart rate picks up and she starts to stir.

“Y/n?”

“Peter,” she smiles. I press my lips to hers as gently as I can, and wrap my arms around her shoulders. It feels good to hold her again.

“I missed you so much babygirl,” I feel a single tear run down my cheek.

“How long has it been?” I can see the concern in her eyes.

“About 2 weeks because Tony and Bruce thought it’d be best to let your powers try to heal yourself, but it doesn’t matter how long it’s been. You’re here, and you’re alive. Thank God you’re alive,” I take her hand, “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you, y/n. You’re my everything. I sat in this room everyday because I had to know you were okay every second. I couldn’t risk not watching you again. I love you, and shouldn’t have waited so long to tell you that.”

“Peter…” She breathes with a smile still on her face. I lean in again and kiss her like I’ve never kissed her before. Everything I had felt these last two weeks; stress, anxiety, heartache, it all disappeared when I felt her lips pressed against mine.

“I love you too.”

We still have a long way to go with her recovery. Physical therapy and rehabilitation, mainly, but our journey together is far from over. And I’ll be here for her. Every step of the way.

[burn-brighter-than-fire]

After

A/N: This is my submission for @hollandroos 12K writing challenge. The prompt is “I’m hurt, I can’t- fuck.” This is the first fic I’ve written so please be gentle. Italics are memory. It’s set after A4, so obviously some of this is just conjecture. I also feel bad because I’m posting it on Peter’s birthday so... happy birthday! I’m sorry!

Summary: Peter is having trouble coping with the aftermath of the war against Thanos. 

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: descriptions of violence and blood, swearing, PTSD, anxiety/panic attacks, pure angst

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/eseb23/playlist/01wWfqaaEe8JrR7lsAmczw?si=ECnGzdgpTxKnm96NuP51tA

It had been six months since the funerals.

A large ceremony for Tony with a small service beforehand to honor Loki. Peter didn’t know the demi-god, but he went just the same, to recognize the bravery of Thor’s brother. He was standing with Cap and Sam, Bucky still being villainized by the public. Through the tears, he glimpsed all of the attendees walking into Tony’s wake, looking at the scrawny kid standing with the Avengers and wondering who he was. He didn’t give a shit.

Six months, and he could still see Tony lying there, his face more relaxed than Peter had ever seen. He could have been sleeping. The only reason Peter knew that wasn’t true was because Tony didn’t sleep when he was alive. He liked to avoid the nightmares as much as possible. Peter knew about the nightmares – both Tony’s and his own. He’d spent enough late nights at the Avengers’ compound to know when Tony was ignoring his exhaustion. And now Peter knows how it feels. Three months, and the nightmares have only gotten worse. They happen so frequently that he’s not even affected by them any more. It’s the waking nightmares he has to be wary of. The ones where he doesn’t know where he is; if he’s back on Titan, back in the Void.

He doesn’t really remember much from the Void other than the feeling of darkness crushing him and nothingness pulling him apart. He had asked the others who were…dusted what they remember. None of them remember anything other than a sense of dread before bing blown away. Mantis, the empath, remembers feeling overwhelming despair coming from everywhere, but that ended as soon as it started, and then she was ‘reconstructed’ on Titan with the rest. But Peter, he could see it, feel it, when he closed his eyes. In his dreams, he couldn’t tell the difference between a minute and an hour, a second and a year. The moments leading up to the snap were fuzzy, but what he remembered was played on repeat like a cruel echo The only things he heard in that place were his final, empty apology to Tony and a low, resounding voice:

“I hope they remember you.”

Peter woke with a start, those last words still ringing through his mind. Gasping for air, he tried desperately to find any light in his dark bedroom. Not finding any, he scrambled off his bed and ripped open the curtains. He needed to feel the cool air on his face. Still in panic mode, he slammed the window open, and flung himself outside, barely managing to grab onto the outside wall of his apartment in his distress. He scaled up to the roof, lying down in the dirt to stare at the stars, trying to remind himself that they’re real. He watched the moon, wondering if its anything like Titan.

As he calmed down, Peter thought back to a time when he would have killed to travel to space. When he was at an age when every kid said they wanted to explore the great unknown. Peter knows better now.  He knows that only pain and heartache are out there, and to search for it would inevitably be to lead it back home. The sudden feeling of hopelessness engulfed him, threatened to drown him. He’s so lonely in this new world. His mentor is dead – the only person he knew would understand the desperate suffering. New York, and maybe the world, needed Spider-man along with the remaining Avengers now more than ever, but Peter needed one person now more than ever. And he was gone. Just like that.

The battle had been raging for what seemed like hours, but it was really only a few minutes. In an effort to bring back all those who had been killed in the snap, Tony and Cap had sacrificed themselves. They had drawn Thanos back to Titan to avoid collateral damage, and let the other Avengers distract him. This left them vulnerable while attempting to break the Soul Stone. The subsequent fallout was catastrophic. Cap, with his genetically enhanced healing capabilities, was injured badly, but able to fight. But, Tony. Tony was thrown from the site, landing near some wreckage being ravaged by fire. Peter reappeared just as Tony hit the ground, his agonizing scream drawing Peter’s attention. Without stopping to think about what the fuck just happened, the kid sprinted toward Tony. His heart stopped as he approached, the scene almost too much for the seventeen year old. Tony was damaged beyond repair. One of his hands was burned so badly, it no longer looked like a hand. A cut ran across his brow down the right side of his face and stopped at his collarbone. It looked like there were three holes in his torso, but there was enough blood for there to be ten. From the way Tony was coughing up dark globs, Peter figured he had at least one punctured lung and extensive internal bleeding. He needed to get Tony to help, but there was no way he would be able to walk when part of his femur was sticking out of his leg. Somehow, the man was still awake. Tony reached into his suit with his good hand and pulled out what looked like a mobile blow torch. As soon as Peter realized what he was about to do, Tony told him to turn around and get back to the fight. He would be fine. It would be fine. The last thing Peter saw before launching headfirst into the violence was Tony managing to cauterize his wounds and immediately passing out. At least he’s a safe distance away, Peter thought. Then he entered the fray.

        Peter was ripped from the memory as he retched over the side of the roof. His body desperately tried to expel anything in his body, but there was nothing. Peter barely ate anymore, because he could never hold it down. His constant flashbacks and panic attacks render meals pointless. He only really tries anymore when he notices Ned or Aunt May giving him that look that he hates. He tries to ignore the pitying and cautious looks, but it’s the ones where they look like he’s broken, like a china doll with a crack and a missing piece. He knows they’re not exactly wrong, but he’s trying. Or pretending, At this point, he can’t really tell the difference.

When his stomach had calmed down, Peter pulled on the mask to his suit, which he’d taken to sleeping in after a nightmare caused him to swing into the street as Peter Parker. He needed to get out of Brooklyn for a little bit.

Standing in the foyer of the Avengers compound, Peter couldn’t help but remember the first time he had seen the suit he was wearing at that moment.

“Was that a test?” How naïve.

The alcove that had held the iron spider was now mockingly bare, with no new Stark gadgets to display. In fact, the entire compound seemed haunted with the memories of the first time he was here. The hallways echoed in a way that told him no one had set foot on the grounds in a while. Of course, he knew this anyway. The Avengers had scattered, fucked off to whatever place they thought they could help – and could help them. They resurfaced here and there every so often to remind the world that they were still there, and not licking their wounds. No one would blame them if they were, though. The whole world at this point was one large wound, scarred by the events of the Infinity War. The emptiness of the compound only served as a stark reminder of what the team had lost. Peter moved on quickly.

He wandered the grounds with no destination in mind. He came across the PT facility, a vestige to the fallout of Peter’s first battle with the Avengers – and against them. He had been so excited, giddy even, and now, two years later he can’t imagine having that kind of enthusiasm for anything anymore, even Spider-Man. He’s seen first hand the consequences of the superhero world and knows all too well what they can do to a person, physically and mentally, human or enhanced. He stared at the room for another second before turning around and walking out. Peter wondered where Rhodey was now. Tony’s best friend hadn’t been heard from in months.

On a whim, Peter called out to Friday.

“Hello, Peter. How are you?” the A.I.’s voice rang out.

“I uh – yeah, fine. Friday can y-“ Peter started.

“My readings indicate you are in distress, Peter.”

“I’m fine, Friday. Can you just tell me where Mr. Stark’s lab is?” Her soft Celtic lilt was honestly calming to Peter. He felt comfort in knowing that a part of Tony was still watching over the place.

“Of course, Peter. It’s in the East Wing, down the stairs, on the right.”

“Thanks, Friday.” Peter started to walk away, then added as an after thought, “Oh, and by the way, you may want to bump up security. I got in here way too easily.”

“Thank you, Peter, but Ms. Romanoff requested minimal surveillance and defense when she’s at the compound for easier mobility.” Peter halted at these words.

“What did you say?”

“I said thank you, but Ms. Romanoff –“

“Yeah no, I heard what you said. She- what? Nat- Black Widow is here?”

“Of course, she’s in the observatory. Would you like me to tell her you’re here?”

“No, its okay. Thanks, Friday.” Peter didn’t mention the fact that he had a hunch Natasha Romanoff, ex KGB spy and ultimate badass already knew he was here. Guess I’m heading to the observatory.

Peter decided the best way to approach a murderous spy is as conspicuously as possible, so he opened a window, crawled around the side of the building, then up onto the floor-to-ceiling windows of the observatory, before opening a hatch in the roof and dropping down gently next to a waiting Black Widow.

“Well, if it isn’t the spiderling. What did Tony call you…Underoos?”  Nat said without turning her attention away from the file in front of her.

“As if you didn’t know as soon as I came within a mile of this place. And don’t call me that.” As scared as Peter may be of Natasha, he nearly spat the last part.

Natasha cocked her head, her sideways gaze on Peter as unwavering as her deadly namesake. This wasn’t the timid kid she remembered from Germany. “Alright, Spider-Man,” she corrected. “What sends a sixteen year old boy from Brooklyn upstate at two am on a Wednesday morning? How long ya been here?”

Peter knew that he probably should have watched his tongue, but he was too tired for politeness. “One: I’m seventeen. Two: I’m from Queens, the Captain is from Brooklyn and I think you know that. Three: Am I supposed to pretend that you aren’t supposedly in Bulgaria right now? Why does it matter why I’m here?”

The spy was silent, her expression impassive as she stared at him. Peter’s face drained of all color with each passing moment. Finally Nat spoke up, “As much as we’ve been through together, we haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Nat.”

“Peter. It- er, nice to meet you…” he trailed off at the awkwardness it seemed only he felt. Peter took this time to regard her. He took in her gray leggings and purple sweater and realized with a start that this was the first time he had seen her wearing something other black.

Natasha smiled and Peter let out a breath of relief. “But seriously, what are you doing here? Aren’t you still in school?”

“Yeah, I just, I couldn’t sleep. Needed a break from the city. Figured I’d come up here, hang out in the lab, maybe work on some updates to the suit.”

“Tony told me you were smart, didn’t realize he meant you were on par with him.”

“Oh, God no, no, I’m not. Just, it’s good to know exactly how everything works if I’m gonna rely on it, ya know? Turns out I’m good with physics and biomechanics. But, I’m not Mr. Stark. He’s- Mr. Stark is on a whole other level.” Peter was rambling so fast he only heard his mistake once he was done and had taken a breath “Was.”

“What’s that?” Nat asked.

“Was. Mr. Stark was on a whole other level.”

The room was silent for a minute while Nat watched Peter walk to the windows and sit down, leaning his head back against the glass, eyes closed. When the silence got too heavy, the kid opened his eyes and realized with a shock that Nat wanted to say something, but seemed at a loss for words.

“Can I ask you something, Peter?” Nat finally said. When Peter nodded, she continued. “I heard that after, you asked some of the others who were… you know… what they felt, what it was like for them. Why? Was it different for you?”

Peter looked at her solemnly until he couldn’t meet her penetrating stare anymore and he shifted his gaze to the left. After about two minutes he spoke: “From what I can tell, yeah. I don’t know if  everyone had the same experience as me and just forget, or if they, like, I don’t know, basically just disappeared and reappeared. But only Mantis felt anything, and it was only at the beginning. I think its my spidey-senses - I have super heightened senses, like, I can sense danger and fear, whenever something is fundamentally wrong, that kinda thing. And something was definitely wrong when…. you know.”

Natasha seemed to regard him differently after this bit of information. “Can I… Do you mind if I ask… what it felt like?”

He wasn’t sure why he answered. Maybe it was because that’s the first time Black Widow had ever been hesitant. But, whatever it was, he did answer. “Mantis is an empath, I guess, and she said she felt the emotions of everyone disappearing, all the confusion and sadness. I kind of did too, but it was more the primal fear and desperation. Need for survival. Again my senses are more animal-based. But, then after the initial… whatever… it was like…” Peter’s voice faded as his eyes glazed over. This was the first time he had recounted what happened. “It was like a void. I really can’t explain it. I think I remember all of it, but it was like time was messed up. I don’t know if my memories are of seconds, or hours, or even months. And it wasn’t white or black … it just…. There was no reference point. I don’t think I was in a place where time or space existed. I can’t…” Peter choked off. He stood up and started pacing, manically running his hand through his hair. When he eventually looked over at  Nat again, she had a pitying expression on her face. That was why Peter never told anyone about it. They either pitied him or were confused. Either way, they didn’t get it. “Anyway, its not something I like talking about. It’s a lot…I- like I said, I couldn’t sleep.” He dropped his hands and turned his back. “I’m gonna head down to the lab for a few hours.”

As Peter walked away, Nat responded, ‘Okay, I’ll be training. If you need anything, ask Friday. She’ll know where I am.” Peter just waved with the back of his hand and headed to the East Wing, not really listening.

After about an hour of running diagnostic after diagnostic on the suit, Peter threw it on the table in frustration. If he’s being honest, there’s nothing more that he can do to it, short of making his own. He’d already adjusted the flexibility and durability of the joint padding and wings to account for the muscle weight he’d put on in the last few months, as well as adding additional material to the ankles and wrists to protect the two inches he’d grown.

Peter figured that if Tony had been working on a new innovation for fight or flight, he would test it out on his own suit first. He liked to be the guinea pig testing out his new toys. As he wandered over to the wall of Iron Men, he thought about the nanotech Tony implemented in one of the suits. The one he died in. Since it was his last stroke of genius, Peter wanted to make sure it remained useful. Tony would have thrown a fit if he knew one of his ideas wasn’t a bastion of strength and purpose. Peter found the suit, or what was left of it, near the bay window where Rhodey had left it six months ago. From the way the helmet was turned, Tony could have been in the suit, staring over the expanse of trees behind the compound. But the gaping hole on the side and the arm missing made it evident that no one was in it. And that no one ever would be.

After taking the suit to one of the work tables, Peter broke open the panel covering the mainframe circuits and connected it to the computer in front of him. He asked Friday to bypass the firewalls, and, to his surprise, she did without a word. He searched through the mountain of coding to find the nanotech information when he stumbled across a file. It wasn’t encoded into the suit, but seemed to be dumped using elementary level software. When he opened it, the whole computer screen went black and the lights in the lab dimmed. A whirring sound above Peter’s head alerted him to the overhead projector turning on. As he looked around to figure out what was going on, he heard a grainy but familiar voice.

“I’m sorry, Earth is closed today!” Peter whipped around at the sound. On the wall was the scene in Lower Manhattan, the Maw standing under the imposing shadow of his ship. But Peter couldn’t figure out where the speaker was. While he tried to figure out what he was watching, he heard more muffled voices in the background. Then:

“He’s saying get lost, Squidward.” Peter gasped. He was watching the events unfold from Tony’s perspective. The data was severely damaged, but it was all there. As Peter watched Tony tell Bruce to stand down, then launch head first into battle, he felt his throat close.

The video skipped a few times and the next thing Peter knew, he was watching himself jump in front of the alien and stop the weapon from crushing Tony. His eyes were already watering, but when he heard Tony invite Wong to his and Pepper’s wedding, he let out a strangled moan.

The kid was rooted to the spot, his knees locked, and his hands gripping the table so hard, his knuckles turned white. He watched without moving, sometimes closing his eyes when it was too much to remember, but never turning it off or leaving. The data was so scrambled that only a few minutes of the clip were played at a time before it skipped, sometimes to hours or days later. Peter only got bits and pieces, but he was starting to grasp the full scope of how long he was… gone. Tears streamed down his face, yet he remained frozen.

Until the video landed on the scene that haunted his nightmares the most. As the screen showed a blood-stained sky, the only movement licks of fire or ash blowing in the breeze, he was transported back to the day when it all came crashing down. Based on the stability of the filming, and the clangs and cries in the background, he knew Tony was still passed out. Peter knew exactly what happened next – he relived it almost every night – but he still couldn’t move, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen. But in his mind, a different perspective was forcing its way to the front.

With Tony unconscious, but out of harm’s way, Peter launched attack after attack on Thanos, barely stopping to notice the others’ strategies. Within minutes, he was tired, but a pattern developed and the Avengers and Guardians were able to play off each others talents. Dr. Strange would open a portal Peter could swing through, Cap would use his shield to launch Nat into the air, Quill would fly as O’koye held on, using the momentum to launch her spear. Even though the team was quickly tiring, they were all melding into one cohesive unit. Peter only had a moment to marvel at it before Thanos directed his attention at Cap. Using all of his brute strength, Thanos slammed the soldier into the dirt, using his foot to hold him there. Under normal circumstances, Steve would have been able to reverse the situation, but Peter had seen the state of Tony and knew that only enhanced abilities were keeping Steve on his feet. He was barely in any shape to fight, let alone fight a titan off of him. Without thinking, Peter shot a web at the infinity gauntlet, using the momentum to swing around and kick Thanos in the face. The titan stumbled back, more out of surprise than anything else. This gave Cap enough time to retreat, but also landed the full attention of the villain on Peter. Before he could say “Fuck me,” the teenager had to dodge a blast of power directed at him. He and Thanos began a game of cat and mouse. Peter swung and weaved around the landscape, drawing Thanos away, giving the rest of the team time to regroup. After a few minutes of this Peter was obviously slowing down, but Thanos barely seemed affected. Frantically grasping at ideas, Peter heard a moan come from his right. Tony was moving slightly, most likely waking up. The split second Peter’s attention was diverted granted Thanos the time to feign to the left and come down on Spider-Man’s leg with a piece of scrap metal from the right.

As Peter saw this scene unfold in his mind, he heard his scream from the video playing in front of him. From the way he fell after the blow, he hadn’t been able to see anything but Thanos, but the video showed Tony sit upright at the sound of Peter’s agony. All he could do at this moment, watching his worst nightmare, was whimper. Thanos spoke in the video, and it dragged him back, deep into his own mind.

Peter fell to his knees as his voice broke and went silent. He looked up only to see Thanos advancing on him with a smirk. The kid sat back and tried to drag himself away. He could barely speak, barely breathe the pain was so much, but he called for help anyway.

“Cap! Quill! Help- fuck- help me!” His back hit a rock and he knew he was trapped. His leg was useless, and Thanos had broken one of the web-shooters minutes before. “Guys! I’m hurt, I can’t- fuck.” His voice was fading from strain and he knew he had drawn Thanos too far away from the others. They wouldn’t reach him in time.

Thanos was steps away now and Peter’s mind went quiet. As the titan raised his makeshift sword, the young superhero made quick peace with what was about to happen. He had already died once, how much worse could it be to die a second time. Peter closed his eyes as Thanos brought the weapon down, but he never felt the final blow. He opened his eyes to see Tony, kneeling with his back to Peter, a shard of steel sticking through his shoulder blade.

Again, Peter’s bloodcurdling scream brought him out of the waking nightmare, but he could still feel the blood that coated his throat from the force. As he resurfaced, he realized that the blood wasn’t a memory, and he really was screaming. He was living through this torture again, and he could no longer separate memory from reality.

Tony slumped over with an agonized groan. He was still breathing. All Peter cared about was that he was breathing. He patched up his leg with webs and launched another attack at Thanos with fervor.

Natasha ran into the lab just as Peter stopped screaming. She took one look at the video and knew Peter was in his own personal hell.

He was moving so fast, acting on pure adrenaline, that all he knew was the purple monster standing under the red sky.

The red-headed spy skidded to a halt as Peter threw himself at her, almost catching the sleeve of her purple sweater.

“Kid! KID! What are you doing?”

Thanos laughed, “You are but a human child. You are no match for me. Yield!” Peter vaulted over a ship’s wing faster than humanly possible and landed a kick squarely in Thanos’ chest.

“Peter, stop! I don’t want to hurt you!” Nat ducked as Peter flew past her head, narrowly avoiding a foot to the face. When he tried to catch himself with webs and failed to realize he wasn’t wearing his suit, Natasha understood. Peter was back on Titan, and he was at war.

Thanos stumbled back at the same time that Nebula, Thor, and Steve arrived. Peter kept barraging the titan with tangled webs and scattered debris, throwing anything nearby at him.

Peter threw a desk at Nat, and she had to scramble out of the way of being crushed. This was no longer a time for gentleness. “Alright, kid. I’m sorry about this.”

Steve launched his shield at Thanos’ knees, drawing him to the ground. Thor called to the sky for lightning, and Peter webbed up the gauntlet to stop the monster from using his powers while he slowly stood up. Nebula, approached gradually, deliberately,  eyeing Thanos like a cat stares down a meal.

Natasha crept towards Peter, trying not to startle him. He tried to hurtle over her head, but she spun and placed a vertical kick to his abdomen. He stumbled on his landing, his breathing labored. When he paused, Natasha could see the savagery in his eyes. It was like the first time she had seen Bucky’s face. It wasn’t Bucky, and this isn’t Peter.

When Thor brought down Stormbreaker, the fire that rained from the sky was like their own personal apocalypse. It was all Peter could do to land on his feet after being blown backwards. Thor was still standing over Thanos, now on both knees, his right hand propping him up. The whole area was a smoking crater, and Nebula waded through the debris like it was water. Only Peter seemed to notice that the webbing on the gauntlet had disintegrated in the lightning.  

Nat jabbed her left fist at the kid’s head, but he caught it mere inches from his face. He dropped to the ground and swung a leg out toward her feet. Nat cartwheeled away and launched onto the desk. She squatted while Peter straightened so they were at eyelevel. He charged, feigning right, then kicking the bottom of the desk, sending the spy straight into his fist.

Nebula picked up into a run as Thanos started to raise his open hand. NO! Peter screamed and swung towards him, only to get a laser in the chest. He landed on his back with a crack, but the split-second distraction allowed Nebula to get inside the monster’s defenses with an uppercut, laying him out.

Without cataloguing what would definitely become a black eye, Nat vaulted onto Peter’s shoulders, twisted to his front, and used the momentum to flip him. He landed in front of the projector with the air knocked out of him.

Peter sat up in time to see Quill and Cap pin the gauntlet on the ground while Nebula kneeled on Thanos’ neck, tears streaming down her face. “I hope to see you in the next life, Father,” she spat, drawing her sword. “Because I will never let you rest. You will suffer by hand as I did by yours.” She brought the sword down across his neck with a metallic shriek.

The android’s screams brought Peter, gasping, back to reality one final time. On the screen, he could see himself limp pathetically over to Tony. He half falls, half kneels at Tony’s side, clearly weeping. Tony’s bloody hand can be seen reaching up and grasping Peter’s own. Peter remembered the state of him. He was on his side, the shard of metal still in his torso. The light of the arc reactor was slowly dimming, and Tony’s breathing was growing more shallow.

Unable to look at the video anymore, Peter turned his eyes towards the ceiling, but he could still see Tony’s broken face above his own. It was a scene he saw every time he closed his eyes.

I’m sorry.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark.”

But this time Peter didn’t blow away. From the video, he could still hear Tony’s last words, but he watched him speak from above.

“You did good, kid. You were better.”

With the sound of his last breath, Peter’s hallucination of Tony faded into nothing.  

“Kid, are you good? Feeling better?” Peter opened his eyes after a minute. He looked to the side to see Nat sitting on the floor, propped up against the overturned desk. He sat up with a groan.

“I- I am so, Nat- er, Black Widow. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Better sparring than I would‘ve gotten in the training room anyway.” She smiled slightly. The wrinkles around her eyes accentuated the black eye.

They both turned back to the projector screen, which was paused on the red sky of Titan. After a moment, Peter spoke.

“I can’t carry that weight, ya know? I don’t know h- how do you do it?”

“I think we all find our reasons, what puts it into perspective. If I’m being honest, Tony – he was an ass, don’t get me wrong.” She gave a low chuckle. “But he cared about everyone. He shouldered most of the burden. He would have carried the world on his shoulders if he needed to, and sometimes he came damn near close. I think after Cap and I, with Bucky- and Rhodey… he started to lose it a bit. He had no one to lean on. And yeah, the Socovia Accords helped, all that regulated heroism. But then you came along. He tested you out in Germany, but I think he already knew your mettle. And you gave him back the part of this job that he loved. He didn’t just want to save the world. He wanted to make sure it was a good place. You helped with that.”

With that, Peter nodded and stood up to clean, the spy at his side. Looking at all of Tony’s inventions, he could see both parts of the man.  The façade he would always put up – it only fooled the public. Down here in this lab, Peter could see every instrument and tool– technically weapons, yes, but each a facet of peace. Made to defend the people. He cared and he tried so much, too much. And he kept going, time after time. Tony didn’t have powers. He only had his mind, and when that failed him, he put up a front and moved on. He wasn’t a soldier, and neither was Peter. One was a sarcastic asshole with a heart of gold and the other, well the other was just a kid. But they helped people. They helped each other. Tony helped Peter – he saved Peter – and now Peter was meant to keep going.

When they had finished tidying their mini battleground, Nat started to leave.

“You coming?”

“Nah, you go ahead. I just want to work on the suit. I think Tony still had some ideas.” Peter moved to his original seat in front of his suit. He heard Nat take two steps and then stop again.

“What did he mean, ‘you were better?’”

Peter shook his head slightly. “Mr. Stark didn’t know how much he meant to people. How much he did for them.”

He smiled as he turned to the table. He had work to do.  

[queen-bunnyears]

Coming Home ~ Harrison Osterfield

This is for Sophs 12k writing challenge, congrats with the 12k girl!! This is the first time I post something that I wrote, I hope you like it. @hollandroos​

Btw, the read more works on my laptop, but disappears at my mobile phone. I don’t know why, I hope it works for you.

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield + Reader

Wordcount: around 1,9 k

Warnings: swearing, angst, crying, a little heated makeout session in the end.

Prompt: 'Why are you crying?'

The only sound in the street was the clicking of your heels on the pavement when you walked to the door of your flat, every tap floating in the air. London was a noisy city, but the part where you and Harrison lived was unusually quiet this night. You liked the city past midnight, it was calm and relaxed in comparison to the hot and rushed days. 

Due to your job at the theater as a stage manager, you often went home late after the evening shows. Today had been very long and exhausting, you had worked for hours on end without a break, to make sure that the transition to two new lead actors would go smoothly. You were absolutely exhausted, and very happy to finally be standing in front of your apartment building.

You grabbed your keys out of your purse and opened the door. After walking up three long stairs, you stood at the door of your apartment. Convincing Harrison to paint the door red had cost you weeks, but it had totally been worth it. The small bronze nameplate looked better with the red than the previous off-white. Harrison and Y/n. The words made you feel giddy, smiling softly to yourself.

You opened the door and walked inside. After dropping your purse on the table, you hang your coat in the closet. The living room was quiet, Harrison had probably gone to bed already. He always promised to wait up, and usually he did, but sometimes, when the clock ticked past 1 AM he would go to bed, insisting you had to wake him when you came home.

In the kitchen you boiled some water for tea. Harrison and you had been living together for a while now, and you loved it. Your relationship had a rough start, so when the whole living together thing worked out perfectly you were relieved. Living together was much nicer than you had expected. The house wasn't empty when you came home, he was there, asleep, watching television or messing around in the kitchen. It made you feel warm inside when he was there, he made your flat a home, gave the space character. He gave you a reason to be home.

With a plate with two fresh cups of tea and some cookies in your hands you walked to your shared bedroom, not really trying to be quiet. You were going to wake him up anyway, so why bother? He lay there, on top of the covers, curled up in a ball like a kitten. Harrison looked so innocent when he was asleep. A pity you had to wake him. In the past you had let him sleep a few times, but you learned that he wanted you to wake him up. He liked to drink a cup of tea together and talk about your days.

Those moments with Harrison were precious to you. Hearing him tell about his day, telling him about yours, and giggling when he told about the stupid things he and Tom did. You cherished those late night conversations, because then you got to see Harrison in his purest form. A little tired, but laughing and loving.

He opened his eyes when you softly nudged him, and immediately sat up and engulfed you in a hug. His arms were warm and comfortable, and he smelled like the bedsheets and his perfume. You straddled his lap and lay your head into the crook of his neck.

'How was your day, Haz?' He didn't say anything, but he held you a little closer. You sat up and gently stroked his hair. Then you felt him moving. His body shook a little, and you sensed him sobbing into your shoulder.

'Why are you crying?' after a few minutes holding him tightly you asked the question burning on your lips. When he didn’t say anything you placed your fingers underneath his chin to lift up his head. His tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes met yours.

 Harrison almost never cried. You were always the one to break down in tears when stress or emotions got the better of you. Harrison usually didn't break down, he pulled through and was able to shrug things off a lot better than you could. He would try to find comfort in cuddling, you could count the times you had seen him cry on one hand. 

“What happened? Please Harrison tell me what it is?” He looked so broken, and you just wanted to hug all the pieces back together, but you couldn’t help him when you didn’t know what was wrong.

“I didn't get the job. I tried so hard and-” his words faded out. His tears had almost dried.  

The job. You could have known. The past few months were all about him getting that role. He worked his butt off to impress the cast managers, and he had gotten into the last round, now having a fifty percent chance of getting it. You feared this would happen, that all the hard work wouldn't pay off this time.

He really wanted to get that role, it was perfectly suited for him, and a lead. And on top of that, the shootings were all in England, mostly in London. He wouldn't have to fly to The United States, and you wouldn't have to sleep alone every night. He could be home.

“Oh Haz, that is horrible.” You didn’t know what else to say. Hours and hours were spent going over his lines, the small scenes and digging up information about his character. Sitting on the kitchen floor with scripts and long forgotten tea, to practise the exact way to say the sentence. Going over scenes, and giving your comments. Anxiously waiting for the calls if he had passed yet another round.

“I shouldn't have dropped everything for it. I should have come along with you to your family day, and watched that movie with you. I should have hung out with Tom more when he was here,” he sniffed and looked in your eyes, “And i should have been there tonight, at the new cast's first show, I always come when you have those important shows.” Regret was obvious in his voice and you gently kissed his forehead.

“If you would have gotten the job we would be saying now how good it was that you focused so hard on getting that role. Don't work yourself up over those decisions made in the past. I supported your decisions, we all did, and still do.” Reaching behind him, you picked up the tea and handed him his cup. “Here drink some tea and tell me what happened today.”

Harrison sipped his tea and looked at you with watery eyes. He was sad but you soothed his pain. Unlike some other nights, your presence wasn't beaming with adrenaline from your work and ongoing stress. You were a little tired, and that felt very calming for him. You studied his face, seeing the man you loved sad, and it pained you.

“They didn't even call me. They announced the winner on all their social media accounts, and let a new intern call me 4 hours later. That was three and a half hours ago. She said, i suppose you have already seen it, but you didn't get the role,” he said angrily before taking a sip of his tea. You shook your head and gave his leg a light nudge with your foot.

“Well that is just disrespectful. Sorry I haven't called you after dinner to ask if you had any news. My phone battery died around the afternoon. But I wonder why would they toss you aside like that. You have put so much work and time in this.'

He just set his tea aside, only shaking his head and he picked up a cookie. “No eating in bed Haz! You know I hate the crumbs.” He laughed and took a bite of the cookie, savouring the taste. 

“Have you baked these yourself?”

“Yes I have. It's a new recipe, do you like them?” He pulled you closer. 

“I love them,” he whispered in your ear before giving you a small kiss on your jawline. He took the last bite of his cookie and put his hands on your lower back, trying to pull you even closer to him. “Thanks love, for being here and looking after me.”

“Well that is just disrespectful. Sorry I haven't called you after dinner to ask if you had any news. My phone battery died around the afternoon. But I wonder why would they toss you aside like that. You have put so much work and time in this.'

He just set his tea aside, only shaking his head and he picked up a cookie. “No eating in bed Haz! You know I hate the crumbs.” He laughed and took a bite of the cookie, savouring the taste. 

“Have you baked these yourself?”

“Yes I have. It's a new recipe, do you like them?” He pulled you closer. 

“I love them,” he whispered in your ear before giving you a small kiss on your jawline. He took the last bite of his cookie and put his hands on your lower back, trying to pull you even closer to him. “Thanks love, for being here and looking after me.”

“Of course I look after you, I love you Haz.” He didn't answer, instead dipping his face lower to kiss your neck. He sucked lightly on the skin, and you softly sighed at the heavenly feeling of his lips. His hands slipped underneath your shirt, exposing your sensitive sides to his fingers. You felt him caress your sides and he let a hand reach up to your bra, gently squeezing one of your boobs, smiling when he heard a soft moan falling from your lips. Pressing his lips on yours he continued the soft attack on your boob, rolling your nipple in between his fingers. You deepened the kiss, relishing in the way he made you feel. 

“Come lay down with me?” You loved making out with Harrison, but with the tea and your exhaustion your sitting position had grown a bit uncomfortable. He simply nodded, and you stood up to get changed into your sleeping attire. You first put the tea cups on the tray, and walked to the closet. Kicking off your heels and stripping your jeans off your legs. You lifted your shirt over your head, and he was quick to help you get the hooks of your bra loose. You shrugged it off and picked a t-shirt from Harrison out of the closet.

As you turned around you saw him shamelessly eying your figure, soaking in your features. You felt his arms around you as he picked you up, and laid you down on the bed. He bent down, his lips against your cheek, brushing it lightly- and still that light touch sent shivers down your spine. He brushed his mouth against the hollow of your temple and he traced the line of your cheekbone. 

”You are so beautiful.” His lips were on yours again. He pinned you down on the bed, his hands roaming over your sides, until one hand stayed at the small of your back, the other tangled up in your hair.

You reached up and pulled him down to you. He kissed you gently and then, as if he was reaching for something more, he pushed you against the bed and kissed you harder. You knotted your fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against you. He groaned softly, low in his throat, and then his arms circled you, gathering you against him, and you rolled over on the bed, not breaking the kiss. 

His tongue slipped inside your mouth, gentle but demanding. You could taste the chocolate of the cookies on his lips. Your fingers gripped his hair, pulling Harrison closer.

A few minutes later you broke the kiss and tried to catch your breath. ”I love you,” Harrison said. 

“I love you too Haz, so-” the rest of your words were lost against his lips as he pulled his mouth onto yours again.

[butwhyduh]

I'm fine. Really! Part 2

Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: none I think. Its angsty fluff.

Word count:1155

Summary: the next morning.

For @hollandroos 12k challange.

You woke up in Peter's dorm room. He had a hand softly around your waist and the other flung on his pillow. He lightly snored in the soft light of early morning. You slowly sat up to not wake him and pulled the blanket off his other side to check his wound. Ned was already gone for the morning.

The wound was already scabbed over with red skin. He did heal quickly. You sighed in relief. The bruises that were blue yesterday were mainly yellow now. He moved and stretched.

"Morning," Peter smiled. You smiled back shyly. You hadn't stayed the night here yet. You had done stuff but you hadn't been domestic and stayed the night. Peter pulled you into a hug and pressed his lips softly to yours. You deepened the kiss until you were both lazily making out.

The alarm clock broke your kisses. "I have to get ready for class! If I'm late again I'll have to drop it and my scholarship depends on it," Peter said panicked. He stood up and the bottom part of his suit fell to the floor revealing short boxers. His cheeks flushed noticeably.

"Peter, I've seen you naked. You are wearing shorts. It's fine," you smiled. He grabbed the nearest sweater and threw it on. He quickly grabbed some pants and slipped in them. "I think your shirt is dirty. Right there," you point to the mustard stain. He slipped it off and rummaged for another. He sniffed another sweater and deemed it suitable and put it on.

Peter was usually pretty neat. Except he never had the time to hit the laundromat. You decided that your next date was down there because dirty shirt Peter wasn't cool. He ghosted a kiss on your lips and ran out the door. Only to come back 2 minutes later to grab his backpack and run out the door.

You stood and looked in Peter's mirror. You looked like you had a rough night. You looked like you were about to do a walk of shame. You eyed Peter's clothing but since it seemed everything was piled on his computer chair in various states of dirty, you passed on wearing his clothing. You ran fingers through your hair to fix it but it really didn't work. This was as good as it was going to get.

You walked quickly from Peter's room and down the hall. A pair of young men stood in the hallway throwing a football. One whistled as you walked to the staircase. You should have used the fire escape. Though you really didn't want that journey again. You rushed down the stairs and accidentally ran directly into a tall guy.

"Hey, where you going?" He smiled goofily. You jumped away from him. "Wooh sweetie, I don't bite." You backed up the stairs. Your heart pounded and you could only think about the guys from the previous night. You ran back upstairs. "Don't run off. I'm not scary!" He called.

You locked the door to Peter's room behind you and gasped leaning on the door. Your heart threatened to leave your chest. All you could think if was how scary the night before was. You shivered and moved to lay in Peter's bed. You wrapped his blankets around you and inhaled his smell.

2 hours later Peter came back to his room. Luckily for you, he had forgotten his meal card and came back to get it. He saw you and dropped his backpack on the floor and crawled in bed with you.

"Hey, babe, what's going on? Are you crying?" He asked pulling you into a hug. You clung to him as a blubbering mess. He softly stroked your hair.

"All I can think about it last night. If you wouldn't have been there... if I was alone..... and you are around this every night. Peter, you could have died," you stared intently into his brown eyes. He took in your red eyes and puffy lips. You had clearly been crying a while.

"I'm right here. You don't have to worry about me. I'm an avenger," he said earning a jab to the side. You smiled slightly. "They were arrested anyways. There is nothing to worry about. I can't believe you didn't call me. You looked fine this morning. I'm sorry didn't know you were so scared."

He brought his lips to yours softly, as though trying to not scare you. You wrapped your arms around his waist and he pulled his arms around your shoulders. You pulled from the kiss and rested your head on his shoulder. He ran circles on your back.

His phone rang loudly in the room. He pulled one hand to his pants pocket and looked at the screen. "Ned, is asking where I am. Do you think you can go to the cafeteria?"

"I think so. I just didn't like being alone. We can go. You know you can put in your code if you forget your card, right?" You smiled at him. He lightly groaned.

"Oh well. I'm glad I found you. It would have been horrible had it been all day that you were here alone. Let's stop at your dorm for clothes, okay?"

You walked hand in hand with Peter. He was really calming. You knew you looked a mess. He didn't seem to mind. You walked up the stairs to your dorm. Your roommate was luckily gone. You quickly changed in the bathroom and washed you face.

Ned sat at the usual table waiting. He smiled at you both as you sat with food. You picked at it and Peter watched you worried. Yes, you were upset about the guys last night but more so about Peter being Spider-Man. You had seen him fight captain America on tv. You definitely needed to ask him abut that some time.

The news blared on local tv as a jock listened to the sports. You tried your best to ignore it. But you couldn't help but hear the next story.

"Our local crime stopper Spider-Man was seen last night and 2 men were arrested for attempted robberies. We'll give more details as they come."

"Peter, did you hear that?" You grab his shoulder. He turns to you. "Spider-Man," you whispered. "Stopped 2 guys last night. The news just said. One is still out there."

"What?" He asked loudly. Ned frowned. "I told Y/N," Peter told Ned. Ned's eyes widened. "Actually I stopped her from being mugged. And one of the guys got away."

"What? Seriously? She knows everything?" Peter nodded. "You got mugged?" Ned said in shock.

"Almost. Peter was there."

"Yeah, luckily I was out of class. But now there is someone out there possibly looking for her. Now what do we do?" Peter asked nervously. Y/N sat holding Peter's hand nervously.

"Why would they follow her?" Ned asked confused.

"I'll explain everything later," Peter said meaningfully.