#we say no to banners today as I have had some sleep and my priorities have changed

[blissfulalchemist]

‘ why are you bleeding? ’ for cat/santi <3

Ash oh lovely Ash. This turned out a tad longer than intended. Lo siento (derogatory). But here's these two idiots being kind of soft.

No warnings. Just a little under 3.5k

It’s not a long walk up the stairs to Santi’s place, even with the take out in hand, so it isn’t long by the time Cat knocks on his door. Her brow furrows when there’s no immediate answer like normal and she glances down at her phone, “Huh,” Did I get something messed up?. The time is correct and the message clearly states to be coming by tonight and the text announcing her arrival is sent through. She frowns knocking again louder, Maybe he just fell asleep. Whatever work John had been giving him recently took up a lot of time, leaving little time for the two of them to see one another. It had to have also been pretty important as Santi even blew off a night out just a few days ago, so she assumed bringing the fun to him would help make life a little easier.

She readies herself to knock once more when the door opens before her. Santi stands before her, hair still drenched, the steam from his shower following with the scent of his body wash, dressed in a pair of sweats that look like they’d been put on in a haste along with a plain black t-shirt. His eyes go wide briefly taking her in, but an easy demeanor she’s grown accustomed to seeing on him returning to every part of his face except his eyes. He pushes back the wet strands of hair that have fallen on his face, “Well, well. What brings you here, gatito?”

She smiles, giving a small tilt to her head, bringing the bag a little higher, “You said it was fine to come over, bring you some dinner.”

He smirks, “I thought we planned on that being tomorrow,” he leans on the door frame, a small wince comes free that he hides while talking, “Not that I’m not happy to see you.”

“Oh,” she bites her lower lip, eyes cast down, “I asked for tonight and you said yes, so I just-.”

Santi pulls out his phone, quickly scrolling through the messages, “You did. Sorry. I must have just read it wrong.” He glances back into the apartment, his breath hitching for a moment. 

Cat gives a slow nod, “Well if it's a bad time now, I can just uhm. I can just come back tomorrow.”

“No, no,” he reaches out to take her hand, “It’s never a bad time to have you around.” She can feel the heat rise in her cheeks when he takes a step closer, fingertips brushing gently along her jaw. He leans down until his lips are just brushing hers, “Especially now, seeing as you brought my favorite meal.” Santi smiles, quickly taking the bag from her hand as he spins back inside the apartment, Cat rolls her eyes following behind him.

“I swear that seems to be the only reason you keep me around,” she tosses her coat on the couch, eyeing the duffel bag filled with clothes tossed on it.

“Gatito, there are plenty of other reasons to keep you around,” he laughs, setting up the table before picking her up by her waist. She gives a small scream at the sudden movement, laughing when he places her onto the counter, foreheads pressed together. “Who else am I going to find that fits so perfectly right here,” he whispers, his arms encircling her, lips meeting hers gently, “Hm. Or someone that, much to my protest still I might add, can still find ways of making my high maintenance ways just a little more affordable?”

Cat smiles, stomach flipping as he kisses her, feeling Santi’s hands move up and down her body. She wraps her arms around his neck, pressing herself against his body, small moans escaping her as his hands move under the fabric of her dress, leaving trails of tingling heat on her bare skin. “You know I’m sure you could find someone better,” she says feeling his lips move down her neck, sending shivers throughout her body.

“Don’t think so,” he pushes the straps of her dress down revealing the edges of a lace bra. Santi’s hands find their way back under the skirt of her dress, running up her thighs, “Is it a matching set tonight?” He purrs in her ear, teeth grazing just below her jaw, Cat letting out a shaky breath. Her legs spread easily, Santi resting them on his hips to keep them that way while his fingers trace the edges of the lace hipsters. He smirks, kissing her deeply, teeth pulling on her lower lip when he finally pulls away, “Got all dressed up just for me, did you?” Cat lets out a sharp gasp the moment he makes contact with her core over the lace, “Must have missed me quite a bit.”

“I don’t think you should be skipping right to the end,” she breathes out, “It’ll diminish the thrill of anticipation.” 

“Then why are you encouraging it, gatito,” he chuckles, feeling Cat’s hands slide under his shirt. “Come on,” he urges, “We have all night and even tomorrow.”

“John finally letting you off your leash?” She asks, her hope obvious as she slides his shirt up, kissing along his chest.

“For now,” Santi pulls back, stripping himself of the shirt and tossing it away. He kisses down her jaw slowly, “So that means,” Cat’s breathing deepens as he moves down her neck, sliding the zipper of her dress, “all of my attention can be,” her arms wrap around him, keeping him close, “on you,” Santi kisses the crook of her neck, Cat releasing a breathy moan, “and me.” He starts to kiss down her chest, her fingers brushing along his skin, until they pass over the same section of something wet along his shoulder blades. 

It can’t be shower water, it wouldn’t localize itself, She frowns, inspecting her fingers, finding them stained red. A gasp catches in her throat as her panic rises, heart pounding in chest as she tries to get a better look at Santi, his movements making it impossible. “Santi,” she chokes out though he doesn’t give much pause. Her unstained hand works to garner his attention, “Santi stop! Stop!” Her eyes go wide as all she can focus on is the few small drops that travel down to her palm. She’s had nightmares like this before, but this wasn’t one, right? Couldn’t be, She’s real, he’s real. 

Finally she can feel her hand in just the right place giving one shove with all her strength. She shuts her eyes a moment, slowing her breathing down, nails digging into her thigh. Real, it’s all real. Not a dream, real. One more moment, she just needs one more moment before she can open her eyes. “Santi, why-,” her voice shakes, throat drying up, “Why are you bleeding?” 

Santi’s attempting to look over his shoulder by the time she opens her eyes, his face the same and intact. His brows knit together as his hand reaches over, the tips coming back red, cursing under his breath. Cat can see another cut glaring red on his arm with how he moves. Her mouth falls open jumping down from the counter, moving closer to inspect him. He smiles, moving to keep the cuts from her view, “It’s nothing, amante.”

“It’s not nothing,” she argues, forcing his back to her, “You’re bleeding.” Cat stands on her tiptoes, gently prodding the wound, “And it looks like it might not stop for a while.”

He moves to face her once again, “It will. Just leave it be. I’m fine.” Santi takes hold of her hands when she won’t stop moving and her eyes get larger, “Trust me. I’m fine.” He runs a hand down her cheek to hold her chin, “No need to get all fussy about it,” he assures in a low voice.

“No need-,” she pulls her hands from his grip taking a step back, “Santi, you’re hurt and bleeding. That warrants me fussing and worrying, especially since you’re trying to tell me you’re fine. When clearly,” she gestures a hand up and down her body.

Santi steps forward, hands cupping her face once more, voice softer, “Because I am, Cat.” He places a soft kiss on her forehead, Cat’s jaw setting. His eyes looked over her face before landing on the table behind them, “Maybe you’re right. We should eat first.” 

He walks away from her picking up the shirt he was wearing earlier, “No.” Cat gives a small stomp of her foot, hands balled into fists, Santi arching a brow. She crosses her arms, “I’m not going to put up with your manly I’m invincible bullshit today when it is so very clear that you are hurt. I’m not just going to put that to the side and play along with you like all the other times, especially since this is something I can actually help you with.”

“Gatito I’m-.”

“Stop that!” She pauses, taking a deep breath, holding her hand up to stop him from speaking, “Look, you and I both know that I’m going to worry about it no matter what. So the choice becomes whether you let me fuss and worry for five minutes while I help you or three hours wherein that’s the maximum amount of time that I will allow myself to be here until I give up for the night.” 

Santi smirks, “There’s a lot we can do in three hours, cariña.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” she grumbles in response. His smirk falls growing silent as he looks over the table folding his arms. Cat watches him for any sort of reaction, when none comes she rolls her lips, twisting the tips of her fingers. Eventually her shoulders fall and she lets out a sigh, running a hand through her dark waves, “Santi,” she says softly, “I- I don’t-.” Cat lets out a small groan at her fumbling, “I’m sorry. That- It all came out harsher than I intended.” She walks to him slowly, adjusting the straps of her dress to keep it on, “I just- Its just-,” she gives a shake of her head reaching out slowly, fingers hesitating in making contact, “I care about you, Santi.” She lets her hand slide down his arm, lacing their fingers together, “I care about you a lot and, well, that makes me prone to worrying. I just don’t want to see you hurt if I can help it.” She kisses his shoulder before bringing the top of his hand to her lips, searching his stoic expression for any change.

Finally Santi nods, his smile returning, “Alright, fine. Let me get the first aid kit.” He gives her hand one more squeeze pulling away towards the bathroom.

Cat blinks in disbelief, “That’s it? Just like that?”

He gives a shrug, “Sure. Maybe if you see it up close, you’ll know I’m right, cariña.”

Cat exhales, rolling her eyes, “What is with you and being right all the time?”

“Part of my charm,” he laughs, “And someone has to be in this relationship.”

Cat turns away waving off the comment once his back is turned, “I’m gonna get the couch ready okay?” There’s no response as she grabs a dark towel laying it to hang where Santi will sit on the couch in case he decides to lean on his bad arm, This is why you shouldn’t buy such light colored fancy couches if they aren’t going to be easy to clean, Santiago. She picks up the duffel bag, almost dropping it quickly from the weight of it, I deserved that. She tries once more managing to almost toss it to the chair next to the sofa, her eyes catching the gleam of something metal within it. She adjusts the straps of the dress once more glancing over her shoulder before moving some of the clothes to the side to take a closer look. 

The initial gleam had come from a handgun with a knife about as long as her forearm right next to it. There’s a hard plastic case just below them that she can’t attempt to open right this second hearing Santi making his way back towards her. She quickly shuffles the clothes back over the items, adjusting the straps of her dress, huffing when they don’t stay in place. Not like it was gonna stay on for that long anyway, She let the dress fall to the ground turning to catch Santi’s playful smile, holding up a clear plastic case with a red cross painted on the front of it and a bowl of water.

“Alright, gatito-,” his words stop taking in her state of undress, “Didn’t realize Nurse Cat needed a change in clothing.”

She crosses an arm over her body, feeling her face flushing, “Can you please not?”

He bites his lip, looking her over once more before he hands off the kit and water to her with a bow, “Alright, let’s get this over with so we can go back to our night.” He flops down on the couch, Cat crossing her legs as she gets into a good position behind him. “I think you need to get closer,” he teases, leaning his head back to try and look at her.

She rolls her eyes, lightly pushing his head back into place. She’s at just the right height to be at eye level with the wound, allowing her to gently wipe the blood away gauging its depth with ease. A sigh of relief leaves her lips as she establishes that it just misses the mark of needing stitches. “At least we don’t have to ruin your back with a scar,” she mumbles searching through the kit, “Well a very noticeable one at least.”

“See I told you it was nothing,” he says smugly, once again leaning back.

She gives a small eye roll, smiling when she finds the superglue, “Well it needs a little more than just a bandaid so we’re both right.”

She pushes him back into place, “What else does it need, gatito, if not stitches?”

“Superglue.”

He grimaces letting out a low growl, “That shit stings like hell and leaves a worse mark in my experience. Would rather have the stitches.”

She gives a light laugh, “You have exposed nerves technically, so everything is gonna sting.” Cat lines up some tape on his back that will help hold it together, “But if you’re getting worse scars then someone doesn’t know what they’re doing.” He shifts beneath her, Cat pulling back the bottle, “Or the patient is moving too much.” 

She waits until he stays in place before leaning in to start closing the wound together, “I doubt that it’ll look less worse than stitches,” his eyes watch her in the reflection of the tv, “even with your gentle touch, cariña.”

“Trust me. I know all the tricks to make them near invisible,” she laughs softly, a frown crossing her features as she goes back to concentrating.

Santi cocks a brow, “Plenty of practice I assume.”

“Something like that,” she mumbles, keeping all her focus on the task at hand.

“How did you learn to do it,” Santi asks with genuine curiosity.

Cat bites her lip, eyes narrowing as she thinks for a moment, “I had to be first aid certified at my old job.”

“I don’t think they teach you how to do this in those classes.”

Cat looks beyond him before nodding her head, “True, but not everyone wanted to go straight to the doctors so they came to me on occasion. Helped them keep their occasional bad days a secret.”

“You never talk about where you used to work.”

“You never really ask,” she gives a light laugh, Santi smiling at the sound of it. “Do you want to know? Or are you trying to make small talk?”

He gives a half shrug, “¿Por qué no los dos?”

She exhales slowly, “I worked the floor of an inpatient facility. I was a counselor officially, but really I was just someone there to help make sure none of the patients bothered the other workers or management. Got more patients if they were all on good behavior.” Cat grimaces, “I didn’t like that too much, especially since their view of what was ‘good’ behavior was just short of seen not heard.  Somehow, I guess by some miracle, I managed to stay under the radar of management to do things my way a little when I worked.”

“I bet the people staying there liked that,” he says with a smile, “Having someone kind among the workers.” He meets her gaze in the reflection, “I know I would.”

She looks away with a small smile, “Maybe,” she sets the glue down pulling out a bandage, “Many just wanted someone to listen to them….empathise with them. Be treated like they weren’t quote-unquote crazy.” Her fingers slow as they push along the edges of the bandage, eyes defocusing to the world around her, “And, well, I knew exactly where a lot of them were coming from which you could say made it easier.” Cat stayed quiet a moment longer, clearing her throat as she shifted patting his back lightly, “Alright time for your arm now.” She turns it over glancing up at Santi through her lashes, “Looks almost like a defensive wound. Well at least what they show on tv.” He doesn’t say anything as she gets to work on it, “Do you want to tell me how you got injuries like this, Santi-amante?”

“Would it make you worry about me more?” Cat shrugs, Santi chuckling, “Just my usual antics, gatito. There’s a Mary May in every city it seems.”

“John makes you travel?” She asks, Santi giving a hum in response, “Is that why that duffel bag is out?” Cat points to the bag on the chair, “He had you out of state?”

“Yep,” he nods, “Though I don’t think he’d like me taking you with me if that’s what you’re thinking, cariña.”

She chuckles, “I was not. Though it’s nice to know that you dream of taking me,” she smiles, as he playfully waves away the comment. Cat’s mind wanders back to the weapons in his bag, curious as to their purpose. She shuffles through the various possible outcomes of how to ask him, opting to keep to the outskirts of what she really wants to know, “Do you-. Do you like working for him?” She keeps her voice steady, casual, “You like what you do for him?”

“I don’t really like doing work to begin with,” he laughs, “I’m sure you didn’t really like working at your old job too much either.”

She raises a brow, “I loved my old job actually.” His eyes go wide a moment as she gives a quick shrug, “I mean it was far from perfect. Management could have been better and some days the employees and residents got on my nerves, but in the grand scheme of things I was doing what I always wanted to do.”

“Which was?”

“Helping people.” Cat smiles triumphantly, “I always forget how much easier this is to do on others than on yourself,” her musing allowing the words to leave before she can stop them. She clears her throat, grabbing the wrap, eyes cast down.

“You got some past I don’t know about, gatito,” he teases, “Thought we were being honest.”

Cat gives a snort smirking, “Says the one that changed the subject from himself to me just a minute ago.”

“Thought you wouldn’t notice.” He thinks a moment, watching as she wraps his arm gently, “Guess it doesn’t matter if I like it or not, it's easy and something that comes….well, naturally. Feels almost ideal for someone like me.”

Cat finishes the wrapping, holding his hand in hers holding his gaze, “Would you ever do something different if you could?”

His smile falls as he ponders, staring down at his hand in hers. “I don’t know,” he finally answers, his thumb running over her knuckles, “I’ve never really known anything else.” Santi leans down kissing her lips with a smile, the seriousness vanishing in an instant, “Are you officially done with fussing now?” He kisses her again, “Can we go back to dinner?”

Cat smiles, rolling her eyes, “Yes. I’m officially done fussing now. Now was that so hard?”

“Very,” Santi says lowly, moving the kit onto the coffee table, cupping her cheek as he brings her in for a deep kiss that leaves Cat’s head spinning. He lies her down on the sofa placing himself between her hips, kissing up her jaw. “Now don’t you worry,” he purrs, a hand sliding up her thigh and hip, “I’ll take it nice and easy,” he assures, kissing down her body between each word, licking his lips when she arches her back to press herself closer, “Just for you, amante.”

[nerdzzone]

-More Hearts Than Mine-

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

Especially when a global pandemic is sweeping the world.

With lockdowns and stay at home orders looming on the horizon, the uncertainty of their situation becomes almost too much for Whitney Taylor to handle. Chris suggests that they quarantine together to avoid any potential separations but, given what happened the last time they spent more than a few brief moments in each other’s company, that could cause more problems than it solves…

Chris Evans x OFC

Sequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Note: Again, just a reminder that all the information I have about covid restrictions in Massachusetts is from google, not first hand experience, so if something seems wrong please just go with it.

Part Three

______

Part Four

If avoiding difficult conversations was an Olympic sport then it's pretty safe to say that I would have earned myself a gold medal by the end of the following week. It wasn't all that hard to do though as the exhaustion from parenting during a pandemic was hitting us both. Especially because the weather for the first couple of weeks of April was abysmal. It was cold, stormy and raining almost every day and we were all getting quite stir crazy from being inside constantly - especially our lively and spirited child.

So, it was a massive relief when the sun finally came out.

It was also a relief that it lined up with Grayson's third birthday.

He was going to have a very different birthday than previous years - as most people would over the next few months - but we wanted him to have fun and he was quickly tiring of all the indoor activities that we could come up with.

We set the living room up the night before after he'd gone to bed, putting up a birthday banner with several clusters of balloons, and there was quite the mountain of presents in the corner as most of our family members had sent their gifts in advance. I had hoped to wake up before him, but when I woke up to excited cheers and Dodger barking from downstairs, I knew I was too late. A quick glance at my phone told me that it was only six thirty, but clearly the excitement had gotten him up earlier than normal.

"Whoa, Dodger, Grayson, shhhh," I heard Chris warn the pair of them, his voice still raspy from sleep. "You'll wake up the whole neighbourhood."

I smiled and quickly climbed out of bed. Chris wouldn't let him open any presents without me, I knew that, but I didn't want to keep him waiting for too long.

When I got downstairs, a very excited Grayson was bouncing on the couch as Chris sat next to him, watching him closely with a smile on his face.

"Happy birthday!" I cheered, catching his attention.

He sprang off the couch and bolted towards me.

"Thanks, Mama," He shouted, throwing his arms around my legs and looking up at me. "I'm three!"

"You are!" I smiled as I knelt down in front of him and pulled him into a hug. "You're such a big boy now."

He let me squeeze him for another moment or two before wiggling free.

"Can I open presents?"

Chris laughed at his clear priorities, shaking his head as I stood up.

"Let's just wait for Uncle Scott," he suggested before glancing up at me. "He's putting the coffee on."

"Very smart," I nodded. "I think we're all going to need plenty of that today."

Grayson proved my point by grabbing at his balloons and waving them frantically, setting Dodger off barking again.

"Dodge!" Chris scolded. "It's just a balloon, buddy. Chill."

The poor overwhelmed dog hung his head and came over to me for some sympathy. I happily obliged, cooing some comforting words and rubbing his back.

"Gray, leave the balloons, okay?" I requested. "I don't think Dodger likes them."

Grayson frowned, but instantly let go of the balloon in his hand.

"Sorry, Dodger."

"It sounds like we have quite the party in here already," Scott commented as he sauntered into the room. "Shall we see what's in some of these boxes?"

"Yes! Yes!" Grayson cheered, running over to the presents. "What first?"

"Whatever you want," I told him, smiling as I went to sit on the couch next to Chris. "Do you need some help?"

"No, I can do it!" He insisted, making a bee line for the biggest box and quickly ripping the paper off.

We watched as he opened gift after gift, an ear to ear grin on his face the whole time. Just as he was at Christmas, he was incredibly grateful for every present from the Paw Patrol Lookout Tower that was almost as tall as he was to the dinosaur books that were more educational than flashy and fun.

But there was one gift at the bottom of the pile that Chris wasn't particularly impressed by. The one that my brother had sent.

Grayson opened it, pulling out a t-shirt first.

"What does it say?" He asked, holding up the shirt towards us.

Chris' jaw dropped as I stifled my giggles and Scott burst out laughing.

"It says 'Team Iron Man'," I read. "Remember how Uncle Rob was in a movie with Daddy where they had a big fight? Iron Man was Uncle Rob's character and I think Uncle Jack wants you to be on that team."

"Oh," Grayson smiled. "Okay!"

"Okay?!" Chris protested. "You don't want to be on my team?"

Grayson shrugged as he pulled something else out of the box from my brother.

"Look!" He shouted, his excitement clear as he held up a very fancy electronic Iron Man helmet. "I love it!"

I wasn't even sure that he knew what it was as he hadn't seen any of the movies yet, but his enthusiasm compared to Chris' displeasure was killing Scott and I.

"Oh, it's such a shame that your brother wasted his money," Chris said, his words dripping with sarcasm as he had a forced look of pity on his face. "Those things are expensive and Grayson is never going to wear it."

"I'll wear it!"

Grayson's insistence was followed by him putting the helmet on his head and another howl of laughter came from Scott as a look of betrayal crossed Chris' face.

"Your brother is a jerk."

His words were quiet so Grayson wouldn't hear and I smiled.

"What can I say?" I shrugged. "We're an Iron Man family..."

Chris shot me a glare, but turned his attention back to Gray.

"Well, if you don't want to be on my team then I guess I'll just have to find someone else to have the last present that I got for you..."

Chris was teasing, but Grayson whipped off the helmet faster than we could blink. He looked around, a puzzled expression on his face when he couldn't see anymore boxes on the floor and I shared his confusion as I wasn't aware of anymore gifts either. But the Evans brothers exchanged a knowing glance and I knew they were up to something.

"Maybe Miles would like it," Scott suggested. "He loves Captain America."

"Me too!" Grayson insisted, tossing the helmet aside as if it hadn't been his new prized possession moments ago. "He's my favourite!"

"Oh, is he now?" Chris laughed. "Doesn't take much to make you change your mind, does it?"

Grayson shook his head, oblivious to the fact that he was being teased, but Chris didn't torture him for too long.

"Alright, do you want to see what it is?"

"Yes, I do!"

Grayson leapt up, bouncing up and down with excitement, making Chris laugh as he stood up from the couch.

"C'mon then," he told Grayson, nodding his head towards the door. "It's this way."

Grayson scurried after his dad and I followed, my own curiosity piqued as well.

"What is it?" I asked Scott, but he just shot me a smirk.

"You'll see in a second."

I narrowed my eyes at his secrets and paused at the front door where Chris was waiting for us, his hand on the door knob as Grayson practically vibrated with excitement.

"Okay, close your eyes," Chris instructed. "No peeking!"

"I won't, I won't!"

Grayson covered his eyes as an extra assurance and Chris' grin widened even more as he swung open the door. I put my hands on Grayson's shoulders and guided him through it, seeing a shiny blue bike with a big bow on the handlebars. I felt a flash of worry at all the potential ways for Grayson to get hurt riding it, but there was no time to dwell on that as Chris told him to open his eyes and he gasped with excitement.

"A bike!" He squealed with joy, leaping off the doorstep and running towards it.

He circled it for a moment as if he was really trying to take it all in while I looked up at Chris.

"There better be a helmet with this present," I warned him. "I'm already imagining broken bones and missing teeth."

"He'll be fine," Chris assured me with a chuckle. "It has training wheels, but of course I got him a helmet."

I opened my mouth, ready to share some more potential disasters that could come from this - because even with training wheels he could still fall off or lose control and crash into a tree - but Grayson cut me off.

"Help me, Daddy! Help me!"

He was trying to climb onto the seat, but as I took in the sight of him barefoot in his pyjamas standing in the driveway, I stopped Chris as he moved towards him.

"Wait, why don't we have breakfast first?" I suggested. "We have all day to play on your bike, but you're not dressed or even wearing shoes..."

Grayson's face fell and I felt bad being the mean parent, but Chris nodded in agreement.

"Your Ma's right, Gray," he told him. "Let's go get ready and then we can come right back outside, okay?"

Grayson looked sulky, but reluctantly agreed as he walked back over to us.

"Hey now," Scott said, catching his attention. "No pouting on your birthday! We've got some chocolate chip pancakes to make! Unless that sad face means you don't want them anymore?"

His previous smile slid instantly back onto his face at the promise of such a sugary breakfast and the pep returned to his step as he grabbed Scott's hand before dragging him into the house.

-

I had no evidence to prove my theory, but by the time breakfast was over, I was almost certain that it would have been more relaxing to be in the middle of a hurricane. There was pancake batter all over the room and we practically had to pin Grayson to his chair to stop him from sprinting around the room with food in his mouth. It was a miracle that he got through the meal without choking.

It was impossible to be mad though when he was having such a good time. He'd had so much to adjust to lately, seeing him happy on his birthday was all that I wanted and I was willing to put up with a little more chaos than normal if it made that happen. Within reason, of course. I did stop him when he suggested that we put the entire bag of chocolate chips in the pancake batter and I did make him help me clean them up when he dumped them on the floor in protest of my ridiculous restrictions.

Once the breakfast circus was over, Chris whisked him off to get him ready to play outside while I helped Scott clean up the kitchen before going upstairs to shower and get ready myself.

When I came back down almost an hour later, I felt considerably less frazzled, but the sound of excited squeals and giggles echoing from outside told me the energy levels hadn't died down much. It really was a relief that he was having such a nice day though so I braced myself for more chaos and headed out to find them.

The sight that greeted me melted my heart completely.

Chris was running backwards across the driveway as Grayson rode towards him. He shouted encouragement the entire time, reminding him to keep pedaling and to look where he was going and cheering as Grayson rode past him before turning around and circling back.

"Look, Mama!" He shouted to me as he spotted me by the door. "I'm doing it!"

"You are, baby!" I smiled. "Good job!"

I sat on the doorstep and watched him ride in circles, proud of how fast he'd figured it out, but after a few moments, my attention turned to Chris.

There were few times since I'd known him when I'd seen him look as happy as he did in that moment. When Grayson was born, when he took his first steps and when he first said 'Dada' were probably the only comparable moments I could think of. He looked absolutely gleeful as he chased after Grayson, laughing as he passed him before dodging a different way and waiting for Gray to catch up before bolting off again. The sound of their giggles and shouts filled my heart so much that it genuinely felt like it was about to burst out of my chest and a feeling of contentedness hit me so hard that it almost knocked over.

It was a feeling that told me that they were all I ever needed. Those two boys, making each other dizzy as they ran in circles. Their happiness and love was all I could ever hope to have and moments like these were all I ever wanted to see. I wanted us to spend every weekend soaking in this kind of joy. I didn't want to fight and argue and transport Grayson back and forth every other week. I wanted to give Grayson what he deserved, I wanted us to be a family.

But as fast as that clarity hit me, the knots in my stomach were there to remind me that it wasn't just about what I wanted. It wasn't about what would bring us the most moments of delight, it was about what would provide Grayson with the most stability and being a family might do more harm to that goal than good.

It was a constant battle between my heart and my head, but I was starting to realize that my head was losing. I was clinging to my resistance with all I had, but it was slipping away. I knew I needed to talk to Chris, to sort out the fog in my brain, but for the time being, I pushed it out of my mind. This was Grayson's day and we didn't have time for anymore heart-wrenching conversations.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as Scott appeared from the side of the house on roller blades and the unexpected sight pulled a laugh from my lips as he sailed past Chris and Grayson and headed down the driveway.

"Gray, follow me!"

Gray nodded, frantically pedaling to catch up with his uncle as they sped off down the long drive. Chris watched them for a minute before jogging over to me.

"He got it so fast," he puffed as he fought to catch his breath. "He's a natural."

"The training wheels help," I pointed out, shielding my eyes from the sun as I looked up at him. "But it's fine because he'll be keeping those on until he's at least eighteen."

Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head.

"No way," he smirked. "We'll have them off by next week."

"Not a chance. I need at least six months to get used to that idea."

"How about we meet in the middle and aim for three?"

"Hmm, maybe," I bit back a smile. "We'll have to see how many injuries he gets with the training wheels on first."

"He'll be fine. He's a champ," Chris grinned proudly. "We've got a pretty great kid."

"We do," I patted the step next to me as I made room for Chris to sit down. "I can't believe he's already three."

Chris accepted my silent invitation and sat down next to me.

"I know," he sighed. "It feels like just yesterday that he was born..."

"He was so tiny," I reminisced. "And you had those huge Captain America muscles."

Chris laughed as he nodded at the memory.

"I was so scared to hold him in case I accidentally crushed him."

"I was so scared of everything," I admitted. "It wasn't until he was actually born that it really hit me that we were completely responsible for his well-being and keeping him alive."

"We've done well with that though!"

"We have," I agreed with a smile. "He's alive and thriving."

"We make a good team."

He flashed me a warm smile that made my heart beat stutter and it almost stopped completely when he stretched out a hand and placed it on mine. His touch was gentle and the warmth of his skin flooded through me even more than the sun streaming down on us. It was a simple gesture, but it eased the heaviness that had been hovering between us lately and I was grateful. I carefully flipped my hand over so our palms pressed together and let our fingers interlace. His smile widened as he looked back out at the driveway, his eyes settling on Grayson in the distance who was laughing at something Scott said.

"Thank you," Chris sighed, his voice quiet and filled with genuine appreciation. "I don't think I've ever said it, but thank you for making me a dad."

His words almost brought tears to my eyes, but I shook my head.

"Chris, you don't need to than-"

"I do," he insisted, cutting me off. "He's the best thing that ever happened to me and he wouldn't be here without you."

"I could say the same," I pointed out, trying to ignore the way his thumb was stroking the back of my hand. "He gets most of his good traits from you too. His kind heart, his sensitive little soul, his loyalty."

"His infuriating stubbornness."

"He gets that from both of us," I smiled. "He didn't stand a chance with that one."

"Well, I hope he gets some of your selflessness," Chris informed me, glancing over and looking a tad sheepish. "Because, as much as I disagree with it and I wish you'd be a little selfish, I get that you're trying to look out for him."

I felt my palms start to sweat and I wondered if he could feel it. I resisted the urge to snatch my hand away from his, trying to play it cooler than I felt. He was watching me closely as I mulled over his words until I found the strength to speak.

"I'm not so sure that it's just him that I'm trying to look out for," I admitted, exhaling a breath that I didn't realize I was holding.  "I do think we have more to talk about, Chris, but I don't think this is the right time."

"You're right," he nodded. "I just felt like I owed you an apology after the other night. I let my feelings get the best of me and I came across a little harsh."

I was about to reassure him that he hadn't when the sound of honking interrupted our conversation. Our attention was pulled to the end of the driveway where two cars - belonging to Chris' mom and his sister - were pulling in as Scott moved Grayson and Dodger off to the side to let them past.

"Did you know they were coming?" I asked, surprised by the little motorcade.

"Nah, I had no idea," Chris shrugged. "We'll stay outside though, keep our distance."

I wasn't worried about that really, I knew all of Chris' family were staying very isolated and being smart about staying safe and we were technically allowed to have outdoor gatherings of up to ten people anyway with the current rules in place. I was surprised to see them though as we'd warned Grayson that he would only get to see most of his family over FaceTime. His excitement at that being untrue was clear as he frantically pedaled back up the driveway to greet his guests.

"Mama! Daddy! Look!"

I let Chris' hand fall away from mine as we stood, smiling at Grayson's excitement as everyone started getting out of their cars. They burst into a rousing chorus of 'Happy Birthday' making Gray's grin grow even more.

"Happy birthday, Grayson!" Lisa beamed as Grayson ran towards her full speed. He threw his arms around her legs before we could even remind him to keep his distance, but Lisa seemed unbothered by it. "Have you had a good day so far?"

"Yes!" Gray smiled up at her. "I got a bike!"

"I saw that!" Lisa matched his enthusiasm. "You're a lucky boy!"

Grayson shot her another smile before turning his attention to his cousins.

"Wanna try?"

His older cousins were probably too big, but Stella's hand shot up first and beat them to it anyway.

"That's really nice of you to share," I called over to Grayson. "But share your helmet too, okay?"

He nodded and struggled with the clip for a few minutes before Lisa helped him take it off and placed it on her granddaughter's head.

Once they were all happy, chasing Stella and Dodger around the drive way, the adults moved over towards us. Lisa was the first to speak, a guilty look on her face.

"I hope you don't mind us just showing up like this, but we couldn't stay away on his birthday..."

"It's great!" Chris assured her. "Don't worry about it."

"And Grayson seems thrilled," I added. "It's nice for him to have other kids to run around with for a bit."

We all turned to watch them as they played until Carly let out a laugh.

"Are Grayson's shoes on the wrong feet?"

I hadn't even noticed, but I laughed as well when I realized that she was right.

"Some days just getting him in shoes at all is a victory," Chris defended himself. "And today was one of those days."

"He's like the energizer bunny this morning," Scott joked. "I can't imagine what he'll be like after we get some cake into him."

"Just think how well he'll sleep tonight," Carly pointed out. "He has to crash eventually."

"I hope so," Chris smiled. "He had me up at six o'clock this morning, I need an early night."

That earned a laugh from the group as his siblings teased him about being such an old man, but I felt a pang of sympathy for him, knowing that he'd been up early with Grayson a lot lately. Maybe it was because we were at his house so it was what Gray was used to, but Chris was definitely the favourite for the early morning wake up call.

We stood in our little circle for a while, just catching up as we watched the kids, all of us enjoying conversation with someone other than the people we were locked up with twenty-four hours a day. It was nice for me to have some female company as well even though Lisa was very pleased to hear that her boys were pulling their weight around the house and not just treating me like some kind of live-in maid.

It didn't take long for the kids to get tired of sharing the bike, especially the older boys who were too big for it anyway, and soon they were swarming around us demanding that we all play a game. After being cooped up for so long, it didn't seem like a bad idea to get us all moving around a little so we agreed and set about the daunting task of finding something everyone was willing to play.

Eventually, we settled on capture the flag - girls against boys. Lisa decided she'd make a better referee than a player so the boys team had one extra member, but they had three children to our one so it hardly seemed like the extra person would cause any unbalance. 

The rules of the game were simple: each team had three flags in our 'end zone' at opposite ends of the large grassy part of Chris' yard and the other team had to try to steal those flags. We had to grab it and run it all the way back to our own end zone to score a point, but once it was safely 'captured' it couldn't be stolen back. If someone managed to snatch a flag, but was tagged on their way back to their end zone then they had to give the flag back.

Lisa was very firm in reminding her children that tackling was not allowed as the Evans siblings were fiercely competitive and it had apparently led to trouble over the years. Once the rules were all set, we took our places and started the game.

The teams were fairly evenly matched. The boys had more strength, but we had more agility and were much better at communicating and working together which led to us easily scoring the first point. While Stella distracted Scott, Carly snuck past him to snatch the flag and she tossed it to Shanna who faked a pass to Stella before throwing it to me to get it to the safe zone. It was a beautifully executed play that showed the boys we weren't messing around.

"Oh, it's on now," Chris called out as he sprinted past me.

Shanna bolted after him, but he managed to grab the flag and throw it to Ethan before she caught up. With all the other boys guarding him, he made it all the way back to their end zone without getting tagged.

"I think having a super soldier on your team is an unfair advantage ," Carly huffed, but Chris shook his head with a smirk.

"Nah, because we have Scott too so it balances out."

"Hey!" Scott protested. "I'll switch teams if you're going to be rude!"

Stella jumped for joy at that idea, pleading with him to come onto our side, but the rest of the boys voiced their protests and he decided that, as long as there was no more hurtful comments, he would stick to his team for now. I used their bickering as a distraction though as I snuck closer towards their unguarded flags. I managed to grab one before Scott noticed and called out a warning to the rest of his team, but when I took off running and Grayson charged towards me, I didn't have the heart to out run him on his special day. I slowed down enough that he wouldn't realize I was letting him win and groaned dramatically as he tagged me, making me give up the flag.

"I did it!" He cheered. "Daddy! Did you see? I did it!"

Stella had a disappointed scowl on her face, but everyone else was understanding as they watched Chris scoop him up onto his shoulders, chanting his name as if he'd just won the World Cup while he carried him back to replace the flag.

Their celebration was short-lived though as we managed to steal the flag again almost as soon as Chris and Grayson were far enough away from it. After another perfectly executed play, the score was sitting at 2-1 for us. The pressure was on after that as we only needed one more point to win, it ramped up the competitive spirit.

We were off to a great start in the next round. Shanna got the flag quickly, but Scott had her cornered almost immediately so she tossed it to me. I got about ten steps before Chris was on my heels and I was forced to throw it over to Carly. Chris turned and went to chase after her instead and without even thinking, I leapt on his back to stop him.

"Hey!" He protested, slowing to a stop despite how he was clearly unaffected by my weight. "Is anyone seeing this? This has got to be a foul! She tackled me!"

"I did not tackle you!" I insisted, clinging to his shoulders with my legs wrapped around his waist. "If it was a tackle, you'd be on the ground."

Chris wiggled around, trying to throw me off his back as Carly sauntered into our end zone with the flag.

"The only reason I'm not on the ground is because you're too weak," Chris argued before shouting to his mom. "That doesn't count!

"No, Mama," Grayson joined in, running over to us looking very disapproving. "No cheating!"

I laughed, but slid down from Chris' back.

"Sorry, I'm sorry!" I held my hands up as I apologized. "I can't outrun Captain America, I had no choice!"

"Well, now you lost the point," Chris teased me, shoving me playfully and making me stumble a step away from him. "So, lets keep it fair and stop trying to cheat."

I swatted back at him as I stuck out my tongue while Lisa made the official call that the point didn't count and Scott took the recently captured flag back to the boy's end zone.

Chris had a new twinkle in his eye as the next round started. He hadn't let me get very far away from him and I quickly realized that I'd made a mistake by antagonizing him. I would be useless to my team if he was on my tail the whole time, but he was a tank and incredibly fast so getting away from him was next to impossible. I watched helplessly as Scott and Miles easily took our flag and dashed it back to their end zone to tie the score.

"Chris!" I whined as I tried to get around him like I was a cornered puppy, trying not to get caught. "Get away from me, you big oaf!"

"Oh, wow," Chris chuckled. "Let's not start calling names and being mean."

I tried to dart past him again, but groaned as he blocked my path.

"You're infuriating!"

"It's all part of the game."

The smirk on Chris' face had my competitive side firing up as I could see behind him that Miles had snatched our last flag. Stella was hot on his heels though, so he had no choice, but to pass to Grayson who was coming our way. Was I going to stop my three year old son from scoring the game winning point on his birthday? Probably not. But I had to at least make my attempt genuine so I came up with a plan.

"Is that..." I squinted off into the distance on the other side of the yard. "Is that Dodger chasing a cat?"

My Oscar worthy performance had Chris spinning around to check out what I saw and it gave me enough time to bolt away towards Grayson who wasn't far away from winning the game for his team. I made it an impressive five steps before Chris figured out what I'd done and came after me. Grayson saw what was happening and dodged to the left so I followed, but my change of direction gave Chris an opportunity. The next thing I knew, I felt a crash against my hips before I was lifted from the ground and found myself dangling over Chris' shoulder.

I let out a squeal of surprise as I kicked my legs, trying to get down, but Chris had a tight grip on me and there was no getting away. The ease with which he threw me around wasn't at all distracting and there wasn't a single part of me that was revelling in his strength. Not at all.

"This is absolutely a tackle!" I protested, focusing my mind back onto my predicament. "Put me down!"

"If this was a tackle, you'd be on the ground," he mocked me. "This is payback."

I had a nice view, my head only inches above 'America's ass' so, swept up in the moment of playfulness between us, I reached down and gave it a smack. He yelped and jumped, shaking me as he did.

"Chris! Put me down!"

My demands were weakened by the giggles that I couldn't hold back, but thankfully Scott stepped in to help me regain some dignity.

"Alright, you two," he called over. "Can we get back to the game now or would you like us all to give you some time alone?"

A blush covered my cheeks as I remembered that his entire family was around us and was relieved when he lowered me to the ground.

"Games over," Chris called back. "Grayson scored!"

Grayson jumped up and down happily, but Stella had a scowl on her face.

"Nuh uh! When Whitney tackled you, it didn't count!" She pointed out. "Grayson's point doesn't count too!"

The joy on Grayson's face fell into a look of anger as he stomped his foot at his cousin’s claim.

"It does!" He insisted. "I did it!"

"Now look what you've done," I playfully scolded Chris quietly before shouting to the rest of the group. "I think we're going to have to let them have the point, ladies. I wouldn't have been able to catch up to Grayson even if Chris didn't cheat..."

Stella's jaw dropped in clear shock that I hadn't supported her protests, but to stop the war before it could start, Chris chimed in.

"Grayson didn't need my help to score that point, I shouldn't have interfered," he started. "But why don't we call it a game and go have some cake?!"

The promise of sugar seemed to quash any animosity between the teams as all the kids let out a shriek of approval at that suggestion and took off running back to the house.

"Oh, yes," Carly sighed. "Because what my children clearly need right now is more energy..."

"It's Gray's birthday," Chris shrugged with a smile as we all followed the children at a much more reasonable pace. "We have to have cake!"

"And if it wasn't his birthday then I wouldn't have let you win."

My taunting earned a bark of laughter from Chris.

"Let us win? Yeah, sure, okay. You just keep telling yourself that you're faster and stronger than me," he teased. "Whatever makes you feel better."

I shoved him, but he was braced for it and I ended up more affected by the impact than him which proved his point, putting a smirk on his face.

"Asshole," I muttered as I shook my head, but I couldn't hold back a smile at how nice our affectionate teasing felt.

-

By the end of the day, we were all exhausted. It had been a fun and very special day for Grayson so we were thrilled for him, but exhausted nonetheless. Gray fought his bedtime with all the will power he had, eager for the day to go on just a little bit longer, but we won out in the end and he made it to bed on time. Scott had gone to his own room while we were fighting with him and Chris and I parted ways shortly after to get some much needed quiet time of our own.

I found myself distracted though, when I was finally alone, as the importance of the day had me feeling sentimental. Watching Grayson grow up and hit these milestones was a joy, but it left me feeling a bit reminiscent of the years gone by. Years when he was even smaller than he was now, just starting to figure out the world and how to speak, walk and be a part of it. The time was really flying by and as I began to scroll through old videos of his first year of life, the nostalgia was almost too much to bear.

Eventually, I stumbled on a video that had distinct parallels of today.

It was a video of Grayson's first birthday when we'd given him his own little cake and let him go to town on it. Of course, as many babies do, he'd stared at it for a moment before smashing his face directly into it. It was adorable and tugged on my heart strings considering how comparatively neat his cake consumption was earlier that day. He'd grown so much in such a short time and I felt compelled to share my discovery with Chris so I dragged myself out of bed and crept down to his room.

There was a fluttering of nerves in my stomach as I knocked on his bedroom door, the feeling only growing as he called out an invitation to come inside. I did as he'd asked and let myself in, finding him leaning back against the headboard of his bed - wearing nothing but his pajama pants - with his own phone in his hand.

"Hey," he smiled. "What's up?"

"I found a video," I told him, standing awkwardly near the foot of his bed. "I was feeling a little sad about how fast Gray is growing up so I was looking back, watching old videos and I found one that I thought you might like to see."

Chris’ smile widened and he eagerly patted the bed next to him, encouraging me to sit. I took him up on his offer and settled in as I unlocked my phone and started the video.

"He was so little..."

Chris' observation came as the camera settled on Gray where he sat in his high chair. Chris was right next to him, a grin on his face as he chatted happily to our son despite the nonsense babble that he got in response. I appeared on the screen after a few moments, carrying a tiny cake as everyone started to sing Happy Birthday. Grayson had a look of confusion on his face as he looked around at the crowd, but his eyes widened when the cake was placed in front of him.

"Go on, Gray," I prompted once the singing had stopped. "You can taste it."

He needed no more encouragement and simply face planted right into it, popping up a moment later with blue icing from the tops of his eyebrows to the bottom of his chin. He had a huge, cheeky grin on his face as he looked at us and, just as he did in the video, Chris laughed next to me.

"Oh, man, it kills you, doesn't it?" He questioned before clarifying. "How cute he is."

I hadn't realized that Chris' arm had found its way behind me when he leaned in to watch until I felt his breath on my hair as he spoke and I couldn't resist leaning back, tucking myself under his shoulder. The whole day, the knowledge that my baby was growing up, had me needing some comfort. It was exciting, to see him learn and shift from a baby to a little person, but at the same time, I felt the overwhelming urge for time to stop.

"It does," I agreed, letting my phone fall to the bed beside me. "I can't believe how much he's changed since then."

"In some ways," Chris agreed, looking down at me with a smirk. "In others, he's still that goofy, reckless baby."

"If he's anything like you, he'll probably never grow out of being goofy and reckless."

I felt Chris' shoulders shake as he chuckled at my teasing and I was reminded of the last time we'd been cuddled up, in a similar position to this, in his bed. I felt a flood of warmth run through my body at the memory as I was suddenly aware of how close we were, aware of how good he smelt and how strong his hard muscled arm felt as I leaned against it.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I meant it as one," I assured him. "I like that you're goofy. Your recklessness used to give me anxiety sometimes, when you'd always insist that you just had to do your own stunts on Captain America as if you really thought you were a super soldier, but I like that you're willing to take risks."

"Awe, gee, Whitney," he teased, squeezing me closer against him. "It was nice of you to worry about me."

"Of course I worried," I rolled my eyes. "Your muscles are bigger than your brain sometimes."

"Not anymore..." Chris held up the arm that wasn't currently around me and flexed his muscles, showing off a bicep that was still much larger than most even if it wasn't quite up to the Avengers standard. "I'm out of shape."

Against my own best interest, I turned slightly, letting my hand drift up towards his arm as my head fell against his chest. I traced over the bulging muscle and watched as tiny goosebumps rose up on his skin at the sensation. Skin that felt so soft under my touch and I felt his breath shift as he clearly felt the mood between us change the same way that I did. I felt emboldened by how amorous our emotional day had left me as I let my head tip back to find him looking down at me with the same intensity he had a few months ago.

My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't help myself. Despite every alarm bell going off inside my brain, I stretched up just enough to press my lips against his. For a moment, he relaxed. His shoulders dropped as my fingers curled around the arm they were just stroking, but then suddenly his entire body tensed as if he'd been shocked by a bolt of electricity. He jerked away, sliding out from under me and off the bed before I could even realize what was happening.

"No," he said firmly, pointing his finger at me the same way he did to Dodger when he was being naughty. "No, no, we're not doing this again. Not until we talk about it what's going on here."

I felt the sting of rejection so harshly that it almost brought tears to my eyes, but I knew he was right.

"I'm sorry," I squeaked out, my cheeks burning. "You're right. I shouldn't have done that."

My voice was shaking as I scrambled to stand up, the stunned look on Chris' face only adding to my embarrassment. We stood there, staring at each other with the bed between us, but he didn't speak and after a few moments of silence, my shame was overwhelming, kicking my flight instincts into gear.

"I'll go," I mumbled. "Sorry again."

I didn't wait for a response before darting towards the door, but Chris' voice stopped me before I could make my escape.

"Whitney, stop." He didn't shout, but his tone was firm and demanding enough that I froze on the spot. "We need to talk about this. We can't keep going on with it hanging above our heads."

I turned to face him, discovering that he'd moved closer and was standing by the foot of the bed. He was still a few feet away from me, but close enough that it felt almost suffocating and I bit my lip as I stared at his feet, unable to look him in the eye.

"I don't know what to say..."

"I can take it," he insisted, a hint of resignation in voice as he continued. "You've had plenty of time to think it over since our last conversation and you said earlier today that we needed to talk. If you're gonna turn me down, put whatever this is to bed, just do it now and get it over with."

I furrowed my brow in confusion at his words, my heart beating in my chest so fast that I could hear the blood pumping through my ears.

"Turn you down?" I questioned. "Why do you think I'm going to turn you down? I just kissed you."

"That didn't mean much at Christmas."

He had a very valid point and I felt another pang of guilt at how badly I was treating him. I was hot and cold, affectionate and withdrawn, unwavering in my decision one minute and unsteady the next. I hadn't spared much thought to how cruel that was and now that I'd realized, I couldn't hold back the frustrated groan that fell from my lips.

"I don't know what to do, Chris! I think I know what the right decision is. It's what always felt like the safer choice, but then there are times when that's just..." I paused, taking in a deep breath to work up a dash of courage. "It's not what I want."

Chris watched me closely as if choosing his next words very carefully.

"If the safer choice isn't what you want then it sounds like maybe you need to take a risk. You can't live your life making decisions out of fear."

My eyes narrowed. He was over simplifying the situation. That way of thinking might work if it was just the two of us, but with Gray in the middle, things were more complicated.

"It's not that straight forward."

I shook my head as I spoke, but Chris countered with a nod.

"Sure, it is," he shrugged before asking a question that almost stopped my heart. "Do you love me?"

I stared at him, opening my mouth to speak and then closing it again when the words didn't come. I stood there, gaping at him like some kind of ridiculous puffer fish, until I finally got a word out.

"What?"

A smirk slid onto Chris' face at my floundering as he repeated the question.

"Do you love me?" He asked. "And don't say it doesn't matter or it's not important. Just yes or no."

I stared at him for a moment longer as a war between my head and heart raged inside me. Deny, deny, deny was what my head was screaming, but in the end the quiet reminder of now or never from my heart was what won out.

"Yes, I do," I admitted, proud of my voice for not breaking. "I always have."

There was a grin on Chris' face now, but my stomach churned because it didn't mean anything. As I said, I'd loved him all along and yet here we were, no better off.

"That's all that matters then," he insisted. "We can figure out the rest."

"But what if we can't figure it out?" I protested, crossing my arms as if I could somehow fold into myself and disappear completely. "What if it's nice for a while and then it all comes crashing down around us? What about Gray?"

He shrugged again. His whole demeanour miles away from my own. He seemed confident, hopeful, almost excited while I felt nauseous, terrified and paralyzed by fear.

"But what if it doesn't? What if it all works out nicely? Why are you so convinced that we wouldn't last?"

"Because you're you," I reminded him, my tone flat as I stated the obvious. "Hollywood super star, Chris Evans. And I'm me, a boring nobody. You could have pretty much any famous actress you want, the only person who wants to be with me is the creepy maintenance worker in our apartment building."

Chris looked taken aback as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What? I've never heard about this guy."

"He's just some weird guy who does the repairs," I shrugged. "He comments on my outfits and looks at me in this way that makes my skin crawl, but he's harmless."

"Doesn't sound harmless to me," Chris argued, crossing his arms as a thunderous look settled on his face. "Does he have access to your place?"

"No!" I assured him, but after my quick answer I realized that I wasn't so sure. "Well, I don't know. He might have a spare key, I guess. If most maintenance people do? They have to give me notice before they enter the apartment anyway."

"Unless he's sneaking in to perv on you."

"Chris! That's gross!" I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "Why would you put that thought in my head?!"

"I told you that you should have let me buy you a house," Chris huffed. "You're moving when all this covid shit is over."

"Oh my god," I groaned having flashbacks to our conversation a few weeks ago about him buying me a car. "All of this is so beside the point! We're talking about how you'd get bored of me and leave me heartbroken for some flashy Hollywood babe, remember?"

"Right," Chris nodded, letting his arms fall to his side. "But that's such a ridiculous idea that I thought it was hardly worth acknowledging."

His dismissal of one of my biggest fears sent a flash of anger through me.

"How is it ridiculous?" I snapped. "It's true!"

"You know me, Whitney," Chris sighed. "You know that my team had to practically force me into doing Captain America because I had one foot out the door of the whole acting gig and I hated the way Hollywood made me feel. Do you really think that I would give up a chance at a having family with you, someone who I really care about, for some wild, short-lived fling?"

His tone conveyed his disbelief, but he hadn't quite accurately interpreted what I meant.

"I think you'd regret it," I clarified. "I think that once the initial excitement wore off, you'd see that I'm nothing special and that I don't fit in your world."

Chris was looking at me as if I'd grown an extra head and I crossed my arms a little tighter around myself.

"We were friends long before Grayson came around and I've always thought that you were something special. Where is all this insecurity coming from, Whitney? Because I just don't get it."

I swallowed hard as I bit my lip. I felt incredibly vulnerable and the urge to run away and continue ignoring all my feelings seemed much preferable to standing here and analyzing them all, but I stayed strong. We were both adults and this was the only way to move forward. Whether it ended how Chris wanted or not, he deserved to know how I felt.

"I spent a long time convincing myself that you didn't care about me as anything more than a friend. I told myself that it was an insane idea because we're in two very different leagues so there was no point getting my hopes up. Then that night happened and I thought that maybe I'd been wrong, that it could be the start of a really good thing, but then you were gone by the time I woke up and you never called."

I barely choked out the last few words as I fought back the tears that were swimming in my eyes. An unmistakable look of guilt flashed onto Chris' face and he opened his mouth to comment, perhaps to defend himself, but I held up a hand to stop him. I needed to get it out or I never would.

"Then three weeks later, I found out I was pregnant," I continued. "I assumed from your silence that you didn't want to be with me and I knew that we were good together as friends so I kept my feelings to myself and spent the last three and a half years beating myself up for thinking for even one second that you would want to be with me."

"I did want to be with you..."

Chris was looking at me with those puppy dog eyes that he'd mastered and I sniffled as a tear slipped down my cheek.

"I know that now, but I can't just turn those thoughts off."

Chris sighed and rubbed his hands over his face before holding out his arms.

"C'mere."

I shook my head, wiping my tears as I worried that I'd fall apart completely if I stepped into his arms, but when he persisted and gestured me over again, I couldn't resist. I took the few steps needed to close the space between us and let my arms slide around his waist. He hugged me close to his body, burying his face in my hair as pressed mine into his muscled chest. We stayed like that for a few moments until Chris broke the silence.

"I'm sorry. I was an idiot," he apologized, his words muffled by my hair. "I should have fought for you. At the very least, I should have stayed until you woke up and I should have called, but I was scared too."

I felt more tears fill my eyes as I choked out a soft "I know".

Another silence fell between us before Chris spoke again, his words making my heart almost stop completely.

"I was going to propose." I pulled back at that confession, my eyes wide as I looked up at him unable to process his words fast enough to speak before he continued. "I called my mom up as soon as you told me you were pregnant. I wanted her to help me pick out a ring, but she talked me out of it. Said you'd think I was doing it for all the wrong reasons."

My heart fluttered back to life at the sincerity in his admission, but I nodded my head.

"Your mom is a smart lady," I told him. "I absolutely would have thought you were only doing it because you felt you had to."

"It wasn't out of obligation though," he insisted. "Maybe I was getting a bit ahead of myself leaping straight to marriage, but I cared about you. It was an opportunity to make it official, make that commitment and be a family. That's what I wanted."

I stayed quiet, resting my head back against his chest as I tried to take in all this new information. It was a lot to process especially when it directly contradicted the belief I had clung to for so long - that Chris and I would never work and for Grayson's sake we were better off apart. That assumption was so deeply embedded in my brain that it was hard to find the courage to take such a risk.

As if Chris could sense my lingering indecision, he continued.

"It's still what I want," he said softly. "Being here these last few weeks with you and Grayson as a family has been a dream come true. I wouldn't give it up for anything or do anything to jeopardize it if you'd just give me a shot."

The word 'okay' was so close to the tip of my tongue that it shocked me.

That was all I had to do, just open my mouth and agree and he would be mine.

My heart was pleading with me to do it, to take that leap and ignore any of the arguments against it that were running through my mind - especially now that those arguments seemed much less sound than they had a few short weeks ago. I was so conflicted that it almost physically pained me to have to make a decision and I couldn't help, but wonder how he could be so certain.

So, I leaned back and tilted my head so my eyes could meet his.

"How can you be so sure?" I questioned. "After how things have been these last few years, how can you be so confident in your feelings?"

"Because I love you," he told me plainly and with unwavering surety. "If you tell me right now that it's not what you want, then I'll accept your decision. But if there's a hint of a chance, then I'll wait as long as I need to. I've been waiting for years, thinking that I didn't even have a shot, I think I can wait a little longer now that I know that I might."

It was another heart wrenchingly honest explanation, another vulnerable admission, and something in the openness with which he spoke made me realize that over the last three years he had done nothing to earn any distrust from me. Even after the fallout from Christmas, he'd put his hurt feelings and pride aside to make things easier for me. He'd been sincere during every discussion we'd had since then and hadn't been cruel or impatient about my indecision. I had no reason at all, other than my own fear and insecurities, to assume that he was going to break my heart and tear apart our family.

He deserved a little bit of trust from me as well and a clarity washed over me as I finally knew what I had to do.

There were words I could have said, probably should have said, but I didn't feel like there was anything that would accurately portray how I was feeling. I settled for a more direct approach as I pressed up onto my toes and let my lips fall against his.

He tensed at first and for a brief, heart stopping moment, I thought he might push me away again, but he didn't. He relaxed, pulling me closer as my hands slid to cup his neck.

It was a soft kiss. A gentle, loving kiss, that I hoped conveyed what I couldn't figure out how to say. But when our lips parted and he leaned down to rest his forehead on mine, there was a concern in his eyes that told me I wasn't going to get away with it that easily.

"What does that mean?"

I bit my lip, staring up past his long eyelashes into his eyes. There was still a tiny voice in my head telling me to run, to stop being so foolish and leave now before I made a mistake, but my heart had found its footing now and wasn't going to back down. Listening to my head all this time hadn't made things any easier, so it was time to try something else.

"It means," I started, taking in a shaky breath. "I don't want to keep you waiting anymore."

Chris let out a breath of relief as a tentative smile slid onto his face.

"Really? You're sure?"

I swallowed hard and nodded my head.

"Yes," I breathed out, my voice thick with all the emotions swirling through me.

He dipped his head a touch lower until our lips were reconnected. It was a deeper kiss, more desperate than the first as his tongue slid against mine and his grip tightened on my waist, my nails scraping against the fuzz of his recently cut hair. I caved into him, clinging to him like he was a lifeboat in a storm until he pulled back to take a breath.

My chest heaved against his, the adrenaline of his touch and what this finally meant, almost too much to handle. I settled back down, flat on my feet and nuzzled my face back into his chest as I fought to calm my racing mind and just enjoy the moment.

"You really mean it?" Chris asked again, the shakiness of his voice filling me with another pang of guilt. "You really want to give this a try?"

"I mean it," I nodded against him. "Doesn't mean my concerns have all vanished in the last five minutes, but I...I think I need to trust you."

"I won't let you down," he murmured into my hair as he pulled me even closer. Another silence fell between us until I broke it with an embarrassingly large yawn and Chris' chest shook as he chuckled. "Do you wanna sleep down here tonight?"

As soon as he'd asked the question, it suddenly hit me how exhausted I was. Even just the thought of walking upstairs seemed like an impossible task when there was such an inviting, comfortable bed only steps away from where I stood. But a thought popped into my head that I couldn't ignore and I turned my head slightly so I wasn't speaking directly into Chris' muscles.

"What about Gray?" I asked. "He always comes to you in the morning..."

"Would it matter?"

His tone wasn't accusing or annoyed, but genuinely curious as sharing a child did add a strange new element to all this. I didn't really know what the best way to handle it was since Grayson didn't really understand our relationship or know how a typical family was set up anyway, but it didn't seem like the best way to introduce him to the idea.

"I think we should talk to him about it instead of just letting him stumble on us in bed together," I suggested. "But I think maybe we should wait a while?"

Chris' face fell as the look of worry returned.

"You want to keep this a secret?"

"I didn't mean it like that," I shook my head. "You can tell whoever you want, but I think we should figure things out, make sure things are stable between us before we try to explain it to Gray."

"Alright, that's fair," Chris agreed before leaning down to place another soft kiss on my lips. "I'll wake you up before he comes down."

"Okay," I nodded as I let my thumb stroke his cheek.

We reluctantly slipped out of each other's arms, but it was a brief separation as we climbed into opposite sides of the bed. Once we'd turned the lights off, we met in the middle and he pulled me back against his chest, letting me hook my leg over his hip as we settled against each other.

Chris ran a hand up and down my spine as he nuzzled in my hair.

"This feels nice..."

"It does," I hummed. With the darkness around us, the quiet that had settled in, I felt encouraged to say something that I'd felt I should have said long ago. "I'm sorry, Chris."

I felt him tense.

"For what?"

"For messing you around so much," I admitted. "Especially at Christmas...that wasn't cool."

"If I had expectations, I should have laid them out before anything happened." His answer sounded rehearsed, as if he'd spent a long time convincing himself of that fact. I wasn't entirely sure it was a fair statement, but he continued before I could question it. "I can understand where you were coming from, but I promise I won't hurt you."

I felt a pang of uncertainty because that wasn't always a promise that could be kept, but the sincerity in his voice gave me hope. I placed a soft kiss against his chest as his hands slid up under the loose shorts I was wearing to cup my bum.

"I love you," I mumbled against his skin.

"I love you too," he replied, making a feeling of warmth flood through me. "Thank you for giving me a chance."

I sighed happily as my exhaustion had my eyes fluttering shut. I wanted to stay awake, to keep this moment before the brightness of the morning could bring any doubts or second guesses, but I was powerless to resist as sleep overtook me.

-

Part Five

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10

[nastybuckybarnes]

Of Kings and Beasts  -  Three

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrusted to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Smut, NonCon, Language, Kinda Slow Burn, Cruel!Bucky, Injuries, Violence, TRIGGER WARNING FOR NON CONSENSUAL SEX, fluff??? Maybe?? Can you call it that????

Word Count: 3.6K

A/n: I'm making soup right now!!!! It won’t be done until maybe eleven thirty (It’s ten thirty rn) and I work at 4 tomorrow morning so RIP me. Um... I hope to post the next part of In a Heartbeat soon (Tonight or tomorrow) but we’ll see. I hope you guys are all having a lovely evening and I love you all very much!!

Spoiler(ish) A/n 2: So this chapter is very dark BUT the next chapter will not be as dark so you have that to look forward to.

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND VERY DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

PART ONE

PART TWO

~*~

“No breakfast again this morning, Your Majesty?” You shake your head at your guard, turning your back to her and motioning for her to tie up your corset.

She starts tying, apologizing every now and again when you inhale sharply at the tightness.

“Natalia, I would appreciate it if my name were not one you said to the king. With every mention of me, he becomes more agitated. He is entitled to do whatever it is that he pleases to me, for I belong to him now. I fear you getting involved in any way will only make matters worse for me.”

She wonders what James might've done when he last saw you to have you saying this, but she knows better than to ask.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I ask you forgive me for speaking so plainly without permission.”

It’s been weeks since the king left, and the Kingdom has started growing cold with the coming winter.

“Today, if you will allow it, I would like to take you to the stables. You have been here for well over a month and have yet to meet your horse.” You cock your head to the side. You didn’t even know you had a horse here.

“I have a horse?” She nods, draping a cloak over your shoulders. “You have whatever you want here. This is your home. Your kingdom. Anything you wish for will be brought to you. All you need do is ask.”

“I suppose you’re correct. Forgive me for being so blunt, but I have not felt very welcomed in my new home.” She nods, opening the door for you and walking you down the hall.

“I know it has been said many times, but the King is simply under a fair amount of stress. He knows not how his words affect you. You mustn’t think you are the cause of his anger. He is wrong to take it out on you. I know it isn’t my place, but before Steven was taken, the two kings were greatly looking forward to meeting you and marrying you. However, without his husband, I fear James has become a shell of a man.”

You hum, her words making sense when you think back to the way the King treated you and some of the things he said.

“It’s comical. The King fears I am trying to replace his husband when I have not even spoken his name. I have not said a word about King Steven and yet His Majesty treats me as if I am the one who lost him in the first place.” You stop in your tracks, horror filling you at what you’ve said.

“I am too bold, for I know not what I am saying. Please forgive me, Natalia. I did not mean anything by it.” She smiles gently at you.

“You do not need to be afraid of speaking freely in front of me. I will not breathe a word of it to the King. What is said in my presence stays with me and only me.” You smile gratefully at her but say nothing more, not knowing how much you can trust the woman beside you.

~*~

The days go by in blurs of grey. You rarely leave your chambers unless coaxed by Nat or Wanda, and even then it is only for brief moments.

Your appetite has shrunk and you hardly sleep more than a few hours a night, something both women are starting to become worried about.

Natalia was asked to take care of you, and she feels horrid for doing such a terrible job. But she isn’t sure what else she can do.

“We should hear from the King soon. It’s been nearly two months since his departure,” Wanda says from beside the bathtub. You’re laying in the warm water, eyes closed in a pathetic attempt at ignoring the world around yourself.

Something about what she says clicks in your mind and you peel your eyes open.

“How long did you say?” You ask, voice scratchy from lack of use.

“It’s been nearly two months since he left.” She repeats, smiling gently at you. You nod, teeth grinding together as butterflies fill your belly.

“Wanda, could you fetch the doctor? I am feeling unwell.” She nods, jumping up from her spot and hurrying to the door. While she’s gone you climb out of the bathtub and quickly dry off, heart in your throat as you get dressed.

You’re pulling on a plain beige dress when Wanda re-enters the room, a doctor following close behind.

“Your Majesty.” He bows then stands back up quickly, pushing his spectacles up higher on his nose.

“Please excuse us, Wanda.” She nods, disappointment in her eyes, but leaves nonetheless.

You wait until you’re sure she’s away from the door before speaking.

“I have not bled since arriving here,” you say bluntly, wanting to know now if what you think is actually true.

He raises his eyebrows and nods, licking his lips.

“When was your last bleed before arriving?” You take a deep breath, trying hard to remember. “Probably about a week... maybe two before I arrived.” He nods, pulling a small notepad out of his jacket and jotting something down.

“The days add up. I would not be surprised if you were with child. I’d like to do a few inspections, just to be sure, but I am fairly confident that you are.” He pulls the stethoscope from around his neck and puts the earpieces in his ears.

He presses the flat part against your chest, listening intently before nodding and jotting a few more things down.

When he crouches down and presses the flat part to your lower belly you feel like you may throw up.

It’s dead silent in the room, you holding your breath, and him listening carefully.

A smile breaks out across his face and he stands up.

“Congratulations, Your Majesty. I can hear two healthy heartbeats.”

You’re going to faint.

He must see you start to sway because he grabs your arms and hurries you to your bed, laying you down.

“I’ll send for Lady Wanda. Have her bring some water.” You nod, clenching your jaw as you try to fight both tears and dizziness.

You’re pregnant.

You’re going to have a baby.

You dread having to tell the King.

~*~

Two weeks after finding out the news and you’ve told no one. The Doctor, (Doctor Banner as you found out later) is the only other person who knows and you’ve sworn him to secrecy.

Two weeks after finding out you’re carrying the future of Acadia and that is news you’ve kept to yourself. Who can you tell? Your husband still hasn’t sent word, and there’s been no sign of him.

You sit in your chambers, picking at a piece of bread more than eating it.

“Majesty, you’ve lost weight. You need to eat, please,” Wanda begs. You look over at her then back down to your almost untouched plate of food.

After a moment of staring at the food you sigh, one hand coming to your stomach.

“Wanda, where do your loyalties lie?” She furrows her brows in confusion at your question.

“I don’t think I understand what you mean, your Majesty.” You sigh and look at her. “Could you keep a secret from the King if I requested you to do as such?” She nods without hesitation. “You are my queen and I am your lady. You are my top priority, before the kings.” You nod, absentmindedly drawing patterns on your stomach.

“I’m with child,” you tell her, eyes focused on the pristine walls.

She takes a sharp breath in, hurrying to your side and looking into your eyes.

“Is this confirmed?” You nod, placing a hand on your tiny bump.

“I have not told his majesty yet, because I have no way of contacting him. I can only hope that after he is made aware of my pregnancy... I hope he is kinder.” She nods, smiling gently at you.

“I’m sure he will be. He and King Steven spoke so fondly of having children. Of having you. When they come back I am positive King James will make up for all he has done to you. Now, you must eat. I will not leave this spot until you eat half of what is here. If not for your sake then for that of your child.” You purse your lips then nod, picking up a scrap of bread and bringing it to your lips.

She smiles encouragingly, watching with warmth in her eyes as you eat the food on your plate.

~*~

You’re falling into light sleep when there’s a sudden commotion outside of your chambers.

“He’s returned?” A muffled voice asks.

James.

You bolt upright, stumbling out of your bed and rushing over to your window. Sure enough, the group of riders is back. But one is missing from the King’s horse.

“He was unsuccessful. We could not find Steve. He... he is not taking it well.” That’s Samuel's voice.

You open your door, smiling at Nat and Sam.

“He is back?” You ask. Sam nods then scratches the nape of his neck.

“He is... not in good spirits right now, Your Majesty. It would be unwise to see him until he has calmed down.”

You take a deep breath, Wanda’s words ringing in your head. He needs to know this. If only to spare yourself some pain.

“I need to speak to him and I need to do so now. This has waited long enough. I do not care if he is not in good spirits. I have waited far too long to tell him.” The two nod and Sam points you in the direction of where the King is.

Your heart is racing in your ears and you hold your stomach, beyond nervous for the King’s reaction.

When you get to the throne room you find the door open, the King having his back to you.

“Your Majesty?” You call, only becoming more nervous when you see the way his shoulders tighten at the sound of your voice.

“I asked to be left alone,” he growls, his voice low and full of anger. You take a deep breath and nod, stepping into the throne room.

“I realize that, Your Majesty, and I apologize for intruding, but I mist speak with you.” He chuckles, turning around slowly to look at you.

He’s dirty and there’s dried blood on the side of his face. His eyes are red and blood-shot and you realize that he must’ve been crying.

“What could you possibly have to say that would lead you to believe it is important enough for me to hear?” Your mouth drops open in shock and he scoffs.

“You waste my time, you stupid girl. I want nothing of you, do you not understand that?!”

“Believe me, Your Majesty, I understand that plenty. You think I do not know of your resentment but I do. I am not here by my own free will, might I remind you. I am not the one who chose to come here. If my memory serves me correctly, it was you and King Steven who chose me.”

You hardly register what happens next. One moment you’re standing up facing the king, the next you’re on the ground, cheek stinging and the taste of blood in your mouth while the sound of a slap rings in your ears.

“You will not speak to your King in that manner! It is a privilege to be here, and it is time you realized that. You were chosen, yes. Chosen to bear the children of the great Kings of the West. However, that does not make you irreplaceable! You can easily be beheaded and another woman brought in your place.” He eyes you for a moment, his anger and sorrow consuming him.

“It seems my words are not enough to remind you what you are meant for. Perhaps my cock will do a better job?” You shake your head, scrambling back, but it’s too late. He’s already on top of you, shoving your legs apart and pushing your skirts up past your hips.

“No! Your Majesty, please! I-I’m sorry! Please, don’t!” He smacks you again, successfully silencing your pleads for him to stop. Tears leak from your eyes and you feel whatever fight you had left in you be drained.

Your mind goes blank and it’s as if all your senses have been turned off.

You can’t feel anything. Not his hands on your hips, nor his manhood tearing you apart. You can’t hear his angry grunts or the choked sobs he’s trying so desperately to contain.

You simply lie beneath him, tears trailing down your cheeks and eyes focused on a stain on the wall across from where you are.

Hot tears splatter against your face, adding to your own, and somewhere through your hazy mind you realize he’s crying. Why he could possibly be crying when he’s the one causing pain is beyond you, but you don’t care anymore. Not about him, nor his husband, nor his kingdom. The heir you carry... you’re hardly sure if you care about it anymore either.

When he’s finished he doesn’t look at you. He can’t. He can’t face what he’s done. Instead, he fixes your skirts, gets up, and leaves you on the floor.

You have no strength left inside of you. Your body is stuck on the ground, tears still flowing down your cheeks and dripping into a puddle on the floor.

Alone on the floor you lie, not sure for how long. Minutes, hours, days. You have no idea. You hardly hear the feet running to you, nor do you process the hands pulling you into a seated position, fingers on your neck checking for a pulse.

A woman’s voice shouting for the doctor while strong arms pick you up.

You’re carried through the halls, each one looking so much like the last, and then you’re on your bed again.

There are people speaking, voices all muffled together that you can’t hear and you wish would go away.

And then you’re jolted back to reality by a spray of cold water.

You gasp, arms coming around your body and hugging yourself as shivers wrack your frame.

“There you are, Your Majesty,” Doctor Banner says, his eyes moving from your face down to your stomach.

“Everyone out. I need to inspect the Queen in privacy.” You don’t look to see who else is in the room. You don’t care.

You keep your gaze locked forward, trembling as the cold water seeps into your bones.

“It was the only method I could think of to pull you from your shock, Your Majesty. I do hope you’ll forgive me.” You don’t reply and the Doctor sighs.

“Lady Wanda, run a hot bath for her. And have someone fetch some of the tea I asked for.” You’re assuming Wanda does as asked because you can hear the water filling up the tub.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Doctor Banner asks. You say nothing.

“Are you hurt?” You shrug.

“Can I examine you?” You nod. He lays you down and presses the stethoscope to your stomach, nodding once then sitting between your legs. He flips your skirts up and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I will need to have a word with his Majesty. He cannot be so rough while you are with child.” You shake your head, pushing yourself onto your elbows.

The doctor raises his eyebrows in confusion.

“You don’t want me to tell him?” You nod. He sighs but agrees.

“You must rest though, Your Majesty. I can only imagine how much pain you are in.” When you still say nothing he sighs and rises to his feet.

“From what I gathered, all is well with the child. It will take a few days for you to heal properly, and I recommend you eat more and add more meats and cheeses to your diet. You need to gain weight and sleep more. Both you and your child require that. I will inform the chefs of your change in meal schedule. I expect you to follow it this time.” You simply nod and the doctor leaves without another word.

Wanda is at your side before you can fall back into the abyss of numbness, helping you to the bathtub and pulling your soiled dress from your body.

“I’ll have it disposed of. You spend as much time as you’d like in the tub. I sent Nat and Sam to fetch tea and soup for you. No one has seen the King since...” She trails off, a frown on her lips at the way you make no sign of having even heard her.

A knock on the door pulls her from her worries momentarily and she hurries to open it.  

Nat comes in, a tray in her hand, and Sam is standing guard at the door, under strict order from the redhead not to let the King anywhere near your chambers.

“How is she?” Nat asks. Wanda shakes her head, sighing heavily. “She hasn’t spoken a word. Not even to Doctor Banner. I fear he may have done damage that cannot be healed.” Nat nods, her eyes on you.

“Your Majesty? I’ve brought you some soup and tea. Doctor Banner has said that you need to eat more.” She sits on the padded vanity stool after tugging it to the bathtub and sets the tray down on the floor beside her.

She picks up the soup and offers you the bowl, at which you simply stare. She sighs and raises a spoonful of it to her mouth, blowing on it gently before offering it to you. You open your mouth and allow her to spoon-feed you the warm soup.

It takes both women to get you out of the tub and into bed, but once you’re in bed you never want to move.

Wanda blows out the few candles you had in your chambers and her and Nat quietly leave.

~*~

“She’s been up for several hours. She lit a fire a few hours ago and has been sitting in front of it ever since,” Nat whispers, looking at the brunette with sad eyes.

“The King has destroyed her spirit,” Wanda whispers back. You sit perfectly poised in front of the fire, your back facing the two women.

“Has she spoken yet?” Wanda asks, to which Nat replies with a sad shake of her head.

Your fingers poke at your stomach, hatred in your heart for the life growing within you.

A plate of fruit and nuts sits in front of you, one you’ve been nibbling at since the early hours of the morning.

You’re not meaning to be silent, you simply have nothing left to say to anyone, no fight in you and nothing left to give. You’re tired and absolutely done with this life that you’re living.

“Nat?” The two watch you carefully for any reaction to the King’s voice.

“You should be beaten for all that you’ve done to her,” Nat says matter-of-factly. The King sighs and you hear his footsteps slow as he approaches your door.

“I came to talk to her. To apologize and explain.” The redhead snorts. “It’s a little bit late for that, Your Majesty. She hasn’t spoken a word since we found her yesterday. I doubt she wants anything to do with you.” You couldn’t care less at this point.

“Please?” The redhead sighs but steps aside, allowing her King access to his wife.

“(Y/n)?” You don’t move, eyes focused on the flames in front of you. He sits himself down beside you, eyes on the side of your face.

You’ve lost weight. Your face is slimmer, less lively than last he saw it. The bags under your eyes have only grown and you look... exhausted.

“May I have a moment alone with her? Please?” The two women exchange glances before slowly nodding.

“We will be just beyond the door if you need anything from us, Your Majesty.” He knows they’re not talking to him. As soon as the door is closed he sighs, shoulders slumping forward.

“I will never be able to apologize for all that I have done to you. You... you have endured far more than you should have and I have treated you unfairly. I have... I have brutalized you and broken you down. I take full responsibility for my actions.”

He sighs heavily before continuing, his voice quiet and broken.

“I miss my husband. And although that is no excuse, it is my explanation. I have never been one to love easily, and loving him... it was hard to accept for the longest time. And then I opened myself up to a love I have never experienced before, only to have him ripped from my grasp.

“We chose you specifically. Your beauty and wit... we knew you would make a wonderful queen. He would talk about you at night, we would discuss what having you would be like. And now every time I look at you I see him and it pains me. Because you are a dream that he and I were meant to share. It is wrong for me to take that out on you and I will never ever be deserving of your forgiveness.”

When you still say nothing he sighs.

“I... I would like for us to be civil, at the very least. And I know you have tried and I have not been open to this before, but I would like to start over if you’ll allow it.”

Even if you didn’t want to be civil with him, his word trumps yours.

“Join me for dinner tonight? I will have the cooks prepare whatever you would like to eat.”

You don’t want to eat a single damn thing. But do you really have a choice?

[kidney9-9]

Weekends [Peter Parker x Reader] - Part One

Hey there! I hope you enjoy this oneshot :) I started writing this, going to go to a fluffy route and then it got sad and angsty lmao! That's why I'm planning on writing a second part to this! Thank you very much for reading :) I do not own the gif, credit to the creator.

This oneshot is set in the future, and everyone is alive :) The days in this oneshot is just Saturday and Sunday to clear things up!

Peter Parker x Reader (Angst) Warnings: swear words and kissing Word Count: 2.2k

--

Every weekend was put to good use.

This weekend though, you were bored and upset. Peter was supposed to be in the city yesterday, and he sent an apology, explaining that the meeting’s been extended out for at least another day. You rolled your eyes at the thought.

You didn’t like the idea of Peter following Stark’s footsteps, because you knew how much work it would be. All that business, and the Avengers, you didn’t really like it.

You’ve met Stark before, and he gave you a terrible impression. The way he greeted you as if you were just a little fly in his office made you so angry for weeks.

Peter made it one of his priorities to see that you two were to never meet again after you poured coffee onto one of his computers.

The phone buzzed in your hand, and you bit your lip, contemplating if you should answer it since it was Peter. You were still sad he couldn’t have just excused himself from the meeting. From what you could tell, it was something about a deal falling apart in Japan, but you knew Stark would probably fix whatever the issue was.

“Yeah?” You answered, rolling your eyes when you heard Peter’s automatic apologetic sigh. It was something you loved and disliked at the same time. He was always so… quiet compared to you. You were open, truthful, loud, stubborn, and Peter was a bit of the opposite. You knew he’d hide the truth from you about somethings, but it wasn’t really a big concern to you.

“I’m sorry babe, about my message. I think I’ll be back by like 10 tonight though. I know we always have like a date night or trip on weekends, but I think I’m too tired for a big thing. Is that alright?” Peter responded, and you could hear people mumbling in the background.

You laid back down into the couch, pushing your lips to the side feeling a little guilty. You didn’t like how he had to ask permission or say things to ask you if it was okay to do or not do something. You weren’t controlling, but Peter had some vocabulary or grammar that made it sound as if you were.

“Yeah, it’s cool, you don’t need to ask that Pete. I’m sorry I’m being a bit of a bitch.” You responded, twiddling your fingers a bit now after putting the phone on speaker. You were just frustrated, and you knew what you were craving but you needed to push it down if Peter didn’t want to do anything tonight.

“You’re not. Hey – I actually need to get back, I love you. And if you’re too tired, you don’t need to stay up or anything when I get back.” Peter replied, and you could hear the bit of panic in his voice and the raise of volume of the others in the room. You hummed back to him, picking your phone back up.

“Love you too, see ya.” You hung up quick, knowing he needed to sort whatever just happened.

--

You had the blankets pulled up over your shoulder, facing away from the door when you heard it creek a bit. You rolled over tiredly, yawning, and trying to blink open your eyes. “Hey.” You muttered, feeling your throat scratch a bit from the sleepiness.

“Oh, it’s okay, go back to sleep.” You were quickly shushed by Peter and you giggled a little when you felt him kiss your forehead. You nodded back and closed your eyes, breathing in heavily to start going back to sleep.

Peter changed into his pajamas, too tired to have a shower. He couldn’t believe how today was so chaotic. There was so much happening, he didn’t know how to handle it. Once he laid down on the bed, he didn’t bother grabbing a blanket from you because he was feeling too hot anyway.

He didn’t know how to tell you that he needed to leave soon. He felt sick thinking about it because he knew it would be so long, maybe almost a year.

He wished he could bring you, but he didn’t want to push you into traveling to a foreign country with him. You were looking for a job here, and the two of you just moved in four months ago. He couldn’t put your life on pause for him.

Tony said it was urgent that Peter left on Monday. Something about a mission with Bruce Banner, and researching a mysterious reading one of the monitors caught somewhere in Northern Ireland. There were very possible threats and sending Peter there to protect Banner and the equipment was necessary.

He scooted closer to you, shaking his head from the distressing thoughts. He’d have to tell you in the morning.

--

“So, what did you want for lunch?” You asked, bumping into Peter purposely. You noticed how down he was feeling today, the look on his face made you confused. It wasn’t fun seeing him upset, and you tried talking to him about it, but he shook it off, saying it was alright.

“Does pizza sound good to you?” He replied, scratching his hair a little. You grinned back to him, nodding a yes. That sounded delicious, and that was exactly the food that you knew could cheer him up. You searched for the pizza place’s number on your phone, handing it to him.

“Your choice of toppings!” You laughed, in a singsong voice. He cracked a smile back to you, shaking his head at your silliness.

He pulled himself up on the kitchen counter, sitting and started to swing his legs. You chuckled at his actions, quickly going between his legs, and leaned up on your toes to kiss his chin. As you started to pull away, he pressed call on the phone, pushing speaker. He wrapped his legs around the back of you, bringing you back in.

As the phone started to call, you leaned up again, wrapping your arms around his neck to make him lean a little down to your lips. You giggled silently, kissing the corner of his lips, then glanced up to him again. You saw the bits of pink spread across his face as you stared down to his mouth again.

And finally, you glanced back to his eyes again, noticing they were closed now, waiting for a kiss. You took half a moment before you pressed your lips against his, and he instantly responded. He scooted closer to the edge of the table, as you kissed him deeper, spreading your fingers on the back of his head, playing with his hair.

“Hi welcome to Matt’s Pizza, may I take your order?”

You and Peter instantly shot apart, laughing silently at each other. Peter cleared his throat as you raised your eyebrows at him, grinning. “Hey, um, I’d like to order a large pizza, one side cheese, the other meat.” He responded to the guy over the phone.

“Okay, will that be all?” The person said, and you set a hand on Peter’s thigh, tilting your head to the side a bit, watching his reaction.

“Yep, thank you!” Peter rushed out, supplying the guy with your address. You giggled when Peter practically punched the phone to hang up, hugging you again.

You went straight back to kissing him, moving your hand back to his hair. You twirled it around with your fingers, and you smiled into the kiss, tugging his hair softly, as his hand scanned up your back. His hand slipped under your t-shirt, gripping your skin now.

As he pulled away for a breath, you sighed shortly, glancing away. “Peter, what’s happening with you?” You whispered, not wanting to see what he’d do. Whenever you confronted something to Peter, he’d always have this look on his face, and sometimes you could tell it was bad, other times you couldn’t.

“I just… There’s stuff that happened recently. And it’s really hard. I don’t know what to say, or how to say it. I’m sorry.” Peter didn’t even understand what was drooping out of his mouth. He went over this so many times last night, how to explain it to you but now in the moment he didn’t really know.

“What is it? Please tell me.” You mumbled, looking down at his shirt. You watched his chest rise and lower with anxiety.

“I have to go on a mission, or like an assignment. I can’t really tell you the details, it’s in Ireland though. I know it’s super far away- fuck.” Peter shook his head, feeling too distraught. He couldn’t say it. This isn’t what he planned, it was supposed to be easier, and he felt a huge lump in his throat.

“What?” You glanced up to him, eyes wide. No way, that couldn’t be true. It must be a prank, or a joke at least. He likes jokes, but you knew he wouldn’t do this type of joke, right? You shook your head, denying it completely.

“No what, funny joke! Okay now, you can say it’s fake…Right? It’s fake.” You quickly added on.

When he didn’t respond, your smile dropped completely, and you backed away slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t choose to make it happen, I’m sorry. I don’t know how long it’ll be.” His voice cracked, and you hesitantly put your hand to his face.

You cupped his cheek, as you watched his eyes go red, and you frowned back at them, shaking your head again. “Don’t cry, babe. It’s okay, it’s not your fault. When?” You mumbled back, trying to hold back your emotions. It was hard, but you couldn’t let him see how much this would hurt you.

You loved him, and if he saw you this upset, it would hurt him too.

“Monday, this Monday.” He responded, not understanding how fast this happened. He couldn’t get it, how the two of you were speaking about this. He thought you would be angry, and sad, but he couldn’t tell. You were being calm and quiet, and it was nothing like you. Especially for something like this, and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“I’m sorry, I can’t – what are you thinking about right now?” He asked, slipping his confusion into his voice.

Your thumb moved softly in circles on his cheek to comfort him. You felt numb, but so hurt that you didn’t know how to react. How could you both have such a happy moment before and then this happened?

You didn’t know how to answer. You cleared your throat slightly, “I don’t know.” You answered honestly, knowing if you thought about this anymore, you’d have something to say.

It was too difficult to process. Monday? That soon? It was tomorrow. And you couldn’t see him for a certain amount of time either.

“Fuck, Pete.” You groaned, closing your eyes when you realized how much time you have left. “We only have today to say our goodbyes?” You added on.

Peter nodded slowly, “Yeah, it’s… I’m sorry I put it off for so long. I didn’t know how to tell you. I don’t want to disrupt your life or anything when I go there, and I know we rent this place together, but don’t worry. I already thought it through, I can pay for however long you want to stay here if you’d like, um, and if I can talk Tony into it, maybe I can have some breaks to come here and see you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth and he stopped when he heard you sigh.

You pulled yourself completely away from him, walking to the other side of the room, needing space.

Fuck this, you thought.

You closed your eyes again, needing to silent your thoughts for now, and you didn’t even realize the tears running down your face.

“Y/n, please talk to me.” Peter spoke up, walking towards you.

“I’m scared!” You let out, surprising yourself. “I’m scared, what the fuck is this mission? Are you going to be safe? Ireland, Peter? What- what time are you leaving tomorrow? Can I come? Fuck, I don’t want to leave you. I’m in love with you!” Your voice kept raising in volume until you felt Peter’s hands on your shoulders.

He spun you around to face him, and his face softened. “I’m sorry. I’m in love with you too.” He whispered, whipping away your tears.

“Can I come with you?” You repeated your question, with more steadiness in your voice.

When he slowly shook his head, no, your shoulders slumped. He pulled you into a silent hug, as you sniffled. After a few minutes of hugging, you could feel a slight wetness on your neck, and you hugged him tighter, knowing he was crying along with you.

“I’m sorry.” You heard the heaviness of guilt and sadness in his voice, and you squeezed your eyes closed.

“It’s not your fault Peter. I understand it.”

He kissed the side of your neck, and you loosened your hug. You blinked away the rest of your tears, pulling your face to his. His face was all red, and his eyes were still watery like yours were. You kissed his lips as soft as you could, wanting to savior it as much as possible.

“I promise you I will come back as soon as I can. I love you.”pe

[mortedeveles]

BEAST. [Halloween Week] [P.1]

Summary: Throughout the years you’ve known Bakugou Katsuki, he’s never celebrated Halloween with you. This year seems to be an exception, and you’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing. One day at a scare house unravels the secrets of the friend you’ve been pining after for months, and you experience horror and fear like never before. 

PART TWO HERE: BEAST P.2 

Pairing: Werewolf! Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Themes: Horror, teens pining after each other jhdjhsd, fantasy!au [ONE-SHOT] [HALLOWEEN WEEK]

TW (PLEASE RED): Jumpscares, body gore, werewolves, graphic violence, cursing.

Word Count: 3.2K (aprox 3,265 words) 

A/N: i had such a hard time coming up with the title DEBWEBKAW!! You might’ve noticed I was scheduled to post about All Might, not Bakugou, but I’ve been having a hard time writing for All Might so I decided to write Bakubitch. and i just whipped this up today, so hopefully it’s okay ;;

This is PART 1!! WILL BE RELEASING PART 2 (and final) TOMORROW (or in 2 days)! If anyone’s interested in P2, lmk to make a taglist! 

This fic is part of HALLOWEEN WEEK, which you can check out HERE! Please support the event <3 please check out my other HALLOWEEN WEEK FIC (todoroki shouto) which is LINKED at the END of THIS FIC!

If you enjoy, please leave a REBLOG, COMMENT, LIKE AND/OR FOLLOW!! REBLOG > LIKE 

Bakugou hates Halloween.

It's not the holiday he exactly hates, not at all. Although he won't admit it, the laughter of children around the corner, the ''spooky'' decorations and the hint in the air of new fall spices humors him. It's still a somewhat foreign- Western concept to him, but it doesn’t bother him, so he thinks it’s alright.

What he hates, is how you're so insistent on going trick-or-treating on Halloween. Every goddamn year, you're trying to convince him with those sweet, pleading eyes of yours, your pouty lips, and sad little voice. And there's been several times you almost win him over, but he has to put his foot down. 

Halloween is the bane of his existence, the only day he loses control of his body. Bakugou spends it sitting in a cold, musty dungeon, held down by chains. 

Sometimes, he'll briefly remember you, and that you're probably out in a cute, skimpy outfit, smiling and bouncing with other guys. It makes his blood boil. 

But it's the way it is, even if it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He would rather put your safety and keeping his secret over enjoying the holiday outdoors, with you. 

And this year, just like the rest, was no different. Right after the school bell rang, and the students began to shuffle out of the U.A. academy, you walked up to him.

''Bakugou!'' your quiet but determined tone reached his ears. On any other occasion, he would've basked in it. But it was October 31st, which meant that you came to attempt to convince him to spend Halloween with you.

''Yes, Y/N?'' He grumbled. You smiled as the two of you walked out of the school hallways and onto the entrance.

''I was wondering...'' you twiddled with your skirt. ''Do you want to go trick or treating with me?'' As soon as he opened his mouth to protest, you stopped in your tracks and pressed your hand on his chest. 

''-And before you say no, hear me out! It's a scary house, we can go at five pm, we'll spend an hour or two there and then you're back at your house, just in time for your bedtime! God knows you appreciate your sleep,'' you snorted, shaking your head in amusement. 

Bakugou groaned. He gently pushed off your hand, shaking his head and walking straight ahead. You whined in annoyance and trailed after him.

''C'mon, Baku!'' you tugged at his shirt sleeve. ''Please come with me. I'm... I'm having some problems with my friends, and...'' he slowed down at the sudden bitter tone in your voice. 

''They’re going to ditch me on Halloween, and now I don't have anyone to hang out with. You know how things are with my family, and I'd...I'd really appreciate it if you could hang out with me, even if it's for a while.''

The way you lower your head makes his heart ache with pain. Bakugou knows you don't have an idea, but you've got his heart and soul around your finger, bound and desperate to make you happy.

He lets out a quiet sigh, before shoving his hands into his pockets. ''Tch. Fine, I'll go with you to this shitty house, or whatever.''

His heart leaped at the way your manner changed in a blink of an eye. The loneliness in your eyes was swept away and you smiled widely, leaping forward and wrapping him in a tight hug.

The blond barely had time to react, letting out a surprised oof! before being smothered by your hug.

''Thank you, thank you!'' You nearly wagged your nonexistent tail in excitement. The way you beamed at him made his face warm, even though he knew the rest of his departing classmates were staring at him. Frankly, if this was what it took to make you smile, he'd do it all over again.

''Whatever...'' he growled. Bakugou glanced at the sky. It was light blue, with little to no clouds. The moon was out of sight. For now, he thought bitterly.

''Just promise me something.'' You raised your eyebrows expectantly. 

''Yeah?''

''We have to return before eight o'clock, nine at most. You hear me?''

You shot him a toothy grin that made his heart stutter. ''Sure thing!'

                             ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You're not entirely sure how you managed to convince Bakugou- but you sure as hell won't question it. If you do, you might risk him not going at all. And that would just be the cherry on top of your melancholic week, the trigger that would make you fall apart and burst into tears.

But for now, you tucked those feelings into a corner. The Halloween costume you were going to wear was a top priority. Shifting through your small closet, your eyes drifted back and forth. Money had been tight this year, and you weren't sure what to wear as a decent Halloween costume. Buying a costume was out of the question.

When your eyes settled on a gothic dress, a grin spread on your face. It was a blood-red and black lace, with three-fourths sleeve and beautiful designs. It had a blood-red ribbon around the waist and reached around your mid-thigh. 

''Perfect,'' you whispered with a wide grin. In a matter of a few hours, you texted Bakugou the location of the spooky house, showered, dressed, slipped on a pair of black flats, and did your makeup. Since the dress was gothic looking, you decided to dress as a vampire.

All you had to do was do some simple makeup, apply some fake blood- which you learned to do last year, and buy a pair of fake fangs on your way to the scary house. And if you were lucky, buy a cheap but nice looking black cloak.

Even though you told yourself to not think about it, you couldn't help but wonder what made Bakugou change his mind this year. Although the two of you had been friends since meeting during your first year at U.A. Academy, he had always opted out of Halloween. 

The fleeting and conflicted thoughts swarmed your mind as you walked out of the local store, having bought the fake fangs and cloak. With them, your costume was complete.

Feeling happy and confident with yourself, you arrived at the spooky house in a matter of minutes. You noticed that your neighborhood was long behind you, and the house was in an abandoned area. It was the only house. Other than that, there was a road and on the other side, a huge, dark forest that made you shiver. 

The spooky house was tall, with three floors, creaky and old wood, and a wide yard. Tall weeds and dead plants surrounded the house. The house was painted a dirty grey, with cobwebs in the corners and an empty swing creaking on the doorstep entrance. The house had gates surrounding it, easily double your height. 

''Oi, fangs,'' Bakugou's gruff voice pulled you away from examining the house. You glanced at your left, and there he was, leaning on the house’s black gates.

The blonde stood a few feet away from you, wearing a simple black tee-shirt and jeans. And yet, he looked irresistibly good. 

''He....'' you swallowed nervously. You had to keep your feelings down. ''Hey.'' 

Bakugou nodded in acknowledgment, and the two of you lingered in front of the house. The gates’ paint was chipped, and the two gate doors were slightly open, but something held you back from entering. Why weren’t there any other people?

''So... this the place or what? It looks too fucking shady for a spook house.'' He snorted, and you couldn't help but agree with his statement, even if you didn't voice it out.

''Yeah...'' seeing him in an informal outfit had left you breathless. ''Yeah, this is the house. Let's go in.'' And without further ado, you pushed the gates open. They creaked loudly and you grimaced.

The two of you walked side to side in silence, shoulders slightly brushing against each other. When you reached the doorstep, you craned your neck and peeked on the window at the right. It was musty and covered in dust, but you caught a movement or two. You weren’t sure if it was comforting.

''Well...'' you breathed shakily. ''Here we go.'' 

There was no one inside. The house was barren, with grey walls and a banner on one of them with the bold words; “WELCOME!’’

You didn’t see any actors or customers. It was unsettling. Slowly, the two of you stepped inside the house, tensing as the wooden floor creaked beneath your feet.

The house was too eery. Even though the website said that once you stepped inside, no one would be there, you couldn’t help but feel that neither of you was supposed to be there.

As soon as the two of you were completely inside the house, the front door slammed behind you. You jumped, and Bakugou flinched. The two of you glanced back at the door and then at each other.

‘’You better fucking hope this is the right house,’’ the blond grumbled. ‘’Or we’re in serious trouble.’’

You decided to remain silent. The two of you surveyed the room; all of the doors were closed and upon further inspection, locked. It was dimly lit with one small, flicker lightbulb.

''Bakugou...'' you whispered, clinging onto his arm. ''Are you scared?''

He snorted. ''Of course not. Knowing how these cheap-ass places work, they’re probably going to scare us from behind or something.'' 

You heard a ball drop on the floor. It came from behind, rolled to your feet, and you flinched.

''I don’t think we should-'' you couldn't even finish your sentence, as the floor beneath you two disappeared. A scream ripped from your lips as Bakugou and you fell into complete darkness.

''Fucking hell!'' The blonde shouted. You gripped his hand and his free arm moved wildly, desperate to grab hold onto something. 

''Hooly shiit!'' You screamed. The wind howled briefly in your ears and a few seconds, you stopped falling. With a loud thump, the two of you fell on a soft surface. It was still dark, and you could barely see a thing. Then a few torches lighted up on the walls, and you strained your eyes to adjust to your surroundings. 

''Jesus fucking christ...'' Bakugou rose from the ground, and it seemed that the two of you had landed on a black, wide cushion. He patted down his clothes and scowled.

''Where the fuck did you find this house, Y/N?''

You smiled sheepishly and rose from the cushion. ‘’Google?’’

He sighed in disapproval. ''Whatever. Hurry up, I don't want us to take long.''

You nodded and followed him. It seemed that you had fallen to an underground passage of sorts. The walls were rocky and cold, a rocky wall behind you blocked passage south and there was an empty trail ahead of you. Torches were on the walls, but they weren't enough to light the entire way. Farther than ten feet away, it was dark. You weren't sure if the path continued or not.

''C'mon,'' Bakugou began speed walking away and you had to jog to catch up with him.

‘’Hey!’’ You protested. ‘’Slow down!’’ With a grunt, he reluctantly slowed down. Just as Bakugou and you reached the end of the trail lighted by torches, he walked towards the wall and plucked one off the wall. 

He gripped your hand and surged forward. You followed after, feeling your face erupt with warmth at his bold actions. On the other hand, he didn’t even flinch, and you wondered what the hell was he thinking.

It seemed that the trail continued forward. The torch lit the way, and it seemed that the path narrowed the farther you walked. There was an uncomfortable and questionable silence between the two of you, mainly because of your hand-holding. Katsuki was one of your closest friends, and although he had been your crush for months, there hadn’t been any noticeable changes or romantic insinuations.

After a while, he cleared his throat. ‘’It’s so… we don’t get lost. I don’t want to have to find your dumbass if you get lost.’’ He grumbled.

You smiled. ‘’Okay, Bakugou.’’ 

Every once in awhile, you’d hear a scream or a roar that did not sound human. You’d flinch and cling onto Bakugou, but nothing ever happened.

It felt like hours passed by until you reached the end of the path. Or at least, what seemed to be the exit. The trail had been narrowing until the two of you could barely fit, shoulders, and hips brushing against each other constantly. It was safe to say your face was hotter than a teapot.

‘’I don’t think we’ll need this anymore,’’ Katsuki released the torch and placed it on one of the wall’s torch handles.

There was a white, wooden door ahead. 

‘’Do you think this is the exit?’’ You murmured. Bakugou shrugged. He pushed you behind him, and slowly opened the doorknob, kicking it open once it clicked.

‘’Who’s there?’’ He snapped and placed one foot inside, moving the torch and attempting to observe his surroundings. You trailed behind him, hand still in his.

After hearing and seeing nothing, the blonde grumbled. He pulled you forward and the two of you stepped into the room. This time, it looked similar to the design of the house’s first room. 

There were two old and ripped couches, a TV that was turned on, emitting static and disturbing noises. The lightbulb flickered. At the farthest and opposite wall of the room, there was another door.

The two of you slowly stepped forward, glancing from side to side. As you passed by the first couch, something wrapped around your ankle and you screamed. Just as fast as it seized you, it slithered away. Bakugou whupped around, and the two of you raced towards the door. Just as your hand wrapped around the doorknob, you heard a gut-wrenching scream behind you.

‘’Shit!” Both of you shouted in surprise.

A low groan echoed in the room, and Bakugou gripped your arm and swung the door open. The banshee was gone, and the two of you raced inside. As soon as you were inside, you realized too late that it was a tight hallway. Quickly, the two of you raced forward, and you yelped when you felt hands, hundreds of them, grab desperately at your clothes. None of them pulled you back, but it was enough to make you scream in terror.

Bakugou tightened his grip on your hand and before you knew it, you saw light ahead of you. The two of you raced forward, only to freeze when you saw a body hanging from the ceiling. It resembled a young boy, with his eyes gouged out, his stomach ripped open. You hoped the guts that spilled from his body were fake. Dried blood stained the floor. With trembling legs, you followed Bakugou, who was leading the way, even though you noticed he was frightened as well. 

Besides the dummy, there was nothing else in the room. Instead of a door, there was a wide hole, and you could see a rope from the other side. The exit.

‘’Is-is it fake?’’ You couldn’t help the tremble in your voice.

‘’Yeah, it is.’’ But even Bakugou sounded uncertain of himself. 

Slowly, the two of you stepped forward, walking around the body. As you were halfway towards the exit, a roar echoed and the floor ripped open in the middle. A monster crawled out of the floor, and Bakugou and you raced towards the exit. He pushed you out first, and you wildly grabbed the rope, even as it scratched at your hands as you slid downwards.

Bakugou followed suit and the two of you landed on soft grass, panting heavily. You had escaped in time. It seemed that you had finally reached the exit of the spooky house. There was a tall, towering forest surrounding you. Trees swayed and crickets chirped. The sky was already dark, and you could see the moon slowly setting in the sky.

Slowly, the two of you rose from the grass. 

‘’Oh god…’’ you mumbled. ‘’I’m never going to a scare house again.’’ As you regained your breath and muttered about how frightening it was, you noticed that Bakugou was eerily silent. His back was turned to you. 

''Y/N...'' Bakugou's voice was oddly strained. You frowned and glanced at him. He slowly turned around. Veins were popping on his forehead, and he was digging his nails into his palm. Why was he acting so strange?

''What time is it?'' 

With a frown, you fished out your phone from the cloak and turned it on. The screen read 10 PM.

''Um...'' you froze. Nine o'clock at most. You hear me? Bakugou's previous words echoed in your head. Oh god, he was upset that it'd taken too long and would never hang out with you again-

''Y/N!'' He barked. You staggered backward as Bakugou dropped on the floor, curling into a fetal position with a low groan. The more he groaned, the less he sounded like himself, and sounded more... inhumane. His pained groans shifted between growls and whines.

''Go away. Go home, Y/N. Get the fuck away from me.'' The blonde managed to rise on his feet for a few seconds and spat out the words, before tumbling to the ground again. 

''What?'' Disobeying his wishes, you stepped closer to him. ‘’No. You're clearly not feeling well. C'mon, grab onto my shoulder, and I'll take you to the nearest hospital.''

''NO!'' He flinched when you grabbed him and stepped away.

You frowned, feeling your heart sting at his actions. ''What is going on with you Bakugou? Stop being so prideful for a second, and let me help you!''

He opened his mouth to respond, and with a gasp, you noticed there was something wrong. 

He had fangs.

Not the type that you were wearing, transparent and cheap-looking, fake fangs. No, the fangs that sprouted on both his canines were sharp, large, and gleamed dangerously. Your heart stopped for a second.

''Ba...ku....gou...'' With wobbly knees, you took a step backward. His eyes gleamed with frustration and panic, and just as he reached out for you, a sharp howl pierced the wind.

Both of you glanced at the sky, and you felt your hands tremble as the full moon stared back at you.

‘’No.’’ Bakugou whispered. He stared at his hands in disbelief, before falling to his knees. He groaned loudly, gripping at his head.

‘’Are you feeling okay? Let me help you-,’’ He pushed your hand away and growled. 

‘’Go home, Y/N! Get the fuck away from me. You’re in danger. GO!’’ 

You were startled to hear bones cracking and popping from Bakugou. What was going on? Was he hurt? Why did he want you to go?

‘’Wha-,’’ Before you could complete your sentence, you watched in horror as your friend rose and became a beast. His spine grew, his arms and legs were covered in fur as claws sprout from his nails. Bakugou’s jaw elongated, the fangs you had previously seen only grew longer and his eyes became a near pitch-black, void of any human soul.

You fell on the ground from the shock, feeling your heart stutter in fear and knees tremble.

''What- what are you?''

The beast you called your friend growled in response. 

A werewolf. Your friend, Bakugou Katsuki, was a werewolf. And the fact couldn't terrify you any more than it already did.

PLEASE CHECK OUT MY OTHER HALLOWEEN WEEK FIC HERE! 

If you’re interested in P2; send me an ask/DM!

Taglist: @sandwichez01​ @ur-local-simp​

PLEASE REBLOG, LIKE AND COMMENT! 

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//goodbye, my princess. akaashi keiji//

Request:  Throne Room Thursdays yay!! Could I request Knight!Akaashi and Princess!Reader with the prompt “I vowed to your dying father to keep you safe, so get the fuck behind me.”

Warnings: Blood/Violence

Word Count: 1.8K

Notes: This was literally supposed to be like 800 words.  How did I get here? also me shamelessly writing a prologue to my Oikawa fic that went up today O O P S

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.  Everything had been peaceful for so long, so why now?  What about the peace treaty?  Did that piece of paper mean nothing?  It had been so long since the first time that you had heard your people’s screams and cries for help.  But, now ten years later, those mournful screams were echoing all around you again.  The clang of metal on metal as swords were swung in a heated battle to save the kingdom.  

They had come in the night, cloaked in inky darkness, to launch their attack.  The loud noise of a projectile coming into contact with the palace gates being the only warning that they had arrived.  And within minutes, he was there.  Just like he always was when there was the threat of danger.  His normally messy black curls looked even wilder as he had been yanked from his sleep.  Those normally tired eyes carried an extra wave of exhaustion, but nothing could mask the looks of distress evident on his face.  Akaashi Keiji had been peacefully sleeping before he was called to do his rounds of duty, but the sudden crash that had the ground shaking beneath his feet had jolted him awake.  The other knights around him were scrambling to get their armor back on.  It was the hurried mannerisms of those around him that had him quickly on his feet, his armor clanking heavily with every step as he ran towards the main section of the castle.  The princess.

Akaashi could see the banner of the Riviere Kingdom rustiling steadily in the breeze of the night.  An enemy no one could’ve anticipated, but here they were, trying to storm the castle anyway.  His heavy hand on your door accompanied his desperate pleas.  “Princess Y/N!  Princess, are you alright?”  He was expecting a lot of things, honestly.  He was expecting you to be fearful, the memories of the last attack plaguing your mind.  He was expecting tears and gentle shakes of your body.  Akaashi, however, was not expecting you to fling yourself onto him when you pulled open the door.  The sudden momentum had him stumbling back, but he still wrapped his arms tightly around you, letting you bury your face into his neck.  “Princess, we’re under attack.  I need to get you to the safe house.”

“What about my parents?  Are they coming with us?”

“No, my princess.  I was given the orders that if this day were to come, look out only for you.  I’m sorry, but I assure you that the other knights will escort them as well.  Come, we don’t have much time.”

And with a slow nod, you took his outstretched hand and let him lead you away, down, down, down spirals of stairs.  From above, the sounds of battle began to intensify, fear halting you in your tracks.  “Princess, I know that you’re worried about the king and queen, but please, we must keep moving,” Akaashi pleads, tugging your hand gently.  

It was only then when the shouts of soldiers began to echo through the darkness that Akaashi Keiji halted in his steps too.  The grip that he had on your hand tightened fiercely, the slowly darkening look on his face was illuminated by the low torch light.  There were heavy footsteps, dozens of them, all coming closer and closer to your very location.  He pushed the torch into your hands, drawing his broadsword from its sheath.  “I need you to make a promise to me, your highness.  From this moment forward, you will do exactly what I say.  If I tell you to run, you run and you will not look back.  If I tell you to hide, you put out that torch and hide.  Don’t come out until I say so, do you understand?  Can you promise me that?”

“Akaashi-”

“It is my duty to protect you at all costs and that is what I’m going to do.  Your life is much more valuable than mine and I will do everything in my power to protect it.  Please, make me this promise, Princess.”

 “I promise, Akaashi, but only if you promise that you will come back to me.  I don’t want to lose you.”

The knight that had been by your side since you were fifteen could feel his heart pounding in his chest.  He had been with you every step of the way and there were times when it felt like more than just a work-only relationship.  The way that you joked around with him while he watched over you during your equestrian lessons, the light punches to his arm when he whispered some snarky remark back to you.  There was so much laughter and joy that encompassed the two of you that this moment was such a startling comparison, but his first priority right now was to keep you safe, not place that long-desired kiss to your plush lips.  “I can’t promise you that, but I swear on my life that I will do what I can to make you happy." 

Your hand reached up to gently stroke his cheek and in the dim lighting Akaashi could still make out the sorrow written in your eyes, unshed tears glistening softly.  This shouldn’t be happening, not now.  You should be asleep, head resting on your down pillows, nestled under your blankets, preparing for another day of lessons and carrying out your other royal duties, but instead he was pulling you through the dark tunnel system beneath the castle in an attempt to get you away from your home that was crumbling to the ground with every passing second.  

“Halt!” A voice barks through the darkness.

“Princess, get behind me,” Akaashi mutters softly, but you were frozen in your spot, body too stiff to even make an attempt to move.  His hand gripped the back of your dress, roughly tugging you back, shielding your body with his own.  “I made a vow to your father and this kingdom to protect you, so get the fuck behind me and when I tell you to run, you need to run, are we clear?”  That sudden icy edge to his voice caught you off guard.  He was normally so gentle, so teasing in all of his remarks, but this was a new side to your knight that you had never seen.  This was your knight in the brink of battle, sword drawn, ready to do whatever he had to do to withhold his job as your protector.  

“Hand over the princess.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Don’t make this difficult on yourself, boy.  You can comply with us or we’ll be forced to do this the messy way, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want that.”

“I am Akaashi Keiji, loyal knight to the Gledria Kingdom.  I take orders from my king and my king only and I was ordered to protect the princess no matter the cost, so I guess we’ll have to do this the messy way.”

The Riviere knight clicked his tongue, shaking his head slowly as he pulled his own sword from his sheath.  “Bad choice, boy.”

Akaashi’s sword raised to deflect the incoming blade, the clangs of metal on metal echoing through the tunnel.  A quick shove and a well aimed kick to the center of the chest sent the other man stuttering back, a devilish smirk adorning Akaashi’s lips.  

And it should’ve stayed that way.  The tides should’ve been in his favor.  He was younger, faster, smarter, but the flat of a sword aimed expertly into his side had him doubled over from the pain of the impact, the joints of the armor leaving just a sliver of skin exposed.

But, that was all it took.

It was a sickening sound, really.  The metal piercing through flesh, the sharp breathless gasp escaping Akaashi’s pretty lips as he fell to his knees.  That soft “Run”  that struggled to pass as he just fell further onto the ground, one hand still gripping his sword, trying to fight the best he could, the other pressing firmly into his side to try to stop the blood gushing from the fresh wound.  

But, despite everything he had told you, you couldn’t run.  You couldn’t just leave him here to die alone in a dark tunnel where no one would find him until his corpse started to rot and smell up the entire palace.  “K-keiji-” You whispered, falling to your knees beside him, trying to cradle his body against yours, but you were only shoved away with a firm arm.

“I told you-” he paused, searching for air, “to run.  Please-”

“Then you have to come with me, Keiji, please.  I can’t make it all on my own.  I’ll help you, but please, get up, Keiji.”

He weakly shakes his head, but when you pull his body back towards you, he doesn’t have the strength to oppose.  He knew this day would come.  The day when he would finally be forced to leave you, but he just never expected it to be this soon or to happen like this.  He had always imagined it to be sending you off with a warm smile as you were taken to your new home in the Riviere Kingdom.  Cradled in your arms, bleeding all over your silken nightgown as his vision wavered was the goodbye that he never anticipated.  “I-I’m sorry, my princess.”

“I know, Keiji, I know, but please, don’t speak.  Save your strength so we can run away, okay?”  The sleepy smile graced his features as he gazed up at you, eyelids becoming heavier with each second.  Your hot tears streamed down your cheeks and dripped onto his face.  “Please, stay with me.  I’m not ready to say goodbye.  Keiji, please,” you whisper, desperation creeping into each and every plea that you uttered to your fallen knight.  

It was almost automatic, the way you leaned over him and pressed your lips to his, finally being able to kiss the knight who had been with you through so much.  He released a weak laugh as you pulled away from him.  “What was that for?”

“Because I love you.  I always have.  No one has ever made me smile like you have and no one ever will.  Please, just hold on, Keiji.”

“Well, I hate to ruin this beautiful moment, but seize the princess,” the Riviere knight ordered.  It was only a few seconds, before you felt hands wrap around your upper arms, hoisting you to your feet, letting Keiji’s slowly dying form fall the rest of the way to the ground.  

“What? No! Let me go! Please!” You shout, struggling to escape the tight grip, but no amount of protesting was stopping the soldiers from dragging you away from the scene, your desperate pleas mixed with sobs echoing off the walls and into the dying knights ears.  “Keiji!”

“Goodbye, my princess.”

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 5

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: Reading and responding to my fic are not a priority right now! If you have a moment or need the escape, by all means take a break and read. I will continue posting for this reason. I ask that when you have finished to please take another moment to contribute to the cause. If it's within your means, donate to a fund set up to post bail for protesters. If you don't (and even if you've already donated), take a few minutes to sign some petitions. Share information about organized protests. And LISTEN to the black people around you who are grieving and angry. Do not speak over them. Please, stay safe and healthy. Xx

“Yeah, she’s a heavy sleeper.”

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

Melody didn’t open her eyes as she awoke the next morning, her stretched-out legs aching from their angle against Harry’s bed and her neck cramped. She wound her fingers together beneath her blanket. Harry’s voice drifted from the top of the bed.

“That chair can’ be comfortable.”

“She's never complained.” Vanessa’s voice.

Harry hummed and Melody heard the rustle of his sheets. “She wouldn’.”

“I think Aiden should be ready for you soon. Should I wake her up?”

Another hum. Melody felt Vanessa’s hand grip her shoulder, shake her lightly. “Melody.”

She sighed, opening her eyes for the first time that day. She blinked against the sunlight glinting off of the floor tiles. Harry was watching her, sitting up on the edge of his bed. Vanessa must have helped him into a pair of pants, and Melody was surprised that he had even let her.

“Good morning, you sloth,” Vanessa said, tipping Melody a sly grin. “I swear you sleep more than anyone I know.”

Melody straightened out her neck, pulling her blanket up to her chin. She dropped her feet down from the bed and batted her tired eyes up at the nurse.

“Yeah, yeah,” Vanessa dismissed. “Get up and help Harry.”

“Do you need help?” Melody asked as Vanessa left the room.

Harry shook his head. He was staring at the wheelchair just a few feet from his legs, pulling his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. He looked lost in thought. Melody raised a brow.

“Are you sure?”

He ignored her question. He leaned forward, reaching toward the arms of the wheelchair, and Melody was on her feet in only a moment. She slipped her arm around his back before he could lean too far, catching the brunt of his weight. It reminded her of that awful night she’d had to walk him home from his fight, when his stomach had blossomed black and blue, when she’d feared he was concussed. When he’d kissed her for the very first time.

Melody helped him the couple of steps to his chair on his weak legs, turned to settle him down onto the seat, and then stood straight in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Didn’t need help, right?” she challenged.

“I didn’,” Harry insisted. He grabbed at the hem of Melody’s t-shirt and tugged her toward him. It was a moment before she realized he was lifting the end to peer at her hip.

“Harry, stop.” She tried to step back but was pulled forward again, smacking her knee into the front of his chair and rolling her eyes up to the ceiling as she bit back a wince.

Harry caught her opposite hip in his hand, fingers still wrapped around her shirt. His eyes lifted to her face, brows drawn low. “Yeh okay?” he asked.

“Mhmm.”

Harry watched Melody as she looked back down at him. He peeled her shirt up again, resting the end at the bottom of her ribcage. There was a purpling bruise just behind her hipbone, splotched and fanning out into the surrounding skin. Harry switched hands to hold up her shirt and turned her by her waist, examining the deepest shade at the center of her hip. He shook his head slowly.

“Yeh got this in a fight?”

“Spar,” Melody muttered.

“Are yeh jokin’?” Harry lifted his eyes away from her hip, and that divot had appeared between his brows again. “Someone gave this to yeh sparring?”

“It’s fine, Harry. It doesn’t even hurt, it just—”

Melody cut herself off with a gasp as Harry’s fingers fell to prod gently at the tender skin. She jerked away from his touch but he pulled her back once again, and she was frozen in surprise as he pressed his hand into the bottom of her spine, touching his lips to the middle of the bruise. His breath fell over her skin in a cloud.

“Know what would be a big help to me?” he asked as he sat back, dropping her shirt and pulling both of his hands back into his lap as though nothing had happened.

Melody inhaled quickly in an effort to recover her wits. She shook her head.

“‘F yeh got naked again.”

Melody didn’t even crack a smile. She still felt the weight of Harry’s kiss on her hip, beneath the cotton of her t-shirt. She didn’t know how he could shift so quickly, easing comedy into things that seemed so serious. And this strange dynamic wasn’t funny to her. She didn’t know how to navigate the space between them. This was the Harry that had explicitly broken up with her, claimed that he didn’t trust her. He might be kissing her and looking at her like he was preparing to sink his teeth into her skin, but she really didn’t know if that same energy connected them emotionally. Did he trust her now? Could he trust her again?

“‘M serious,” Harry said. “Can yeh get changed so we can get downstairs? Unless yeh wanna just meet me down there.”

“All right, speed racer. Chill out.”

“‘M chill. ‘M fuckin’ icy."

Melody shook her head as she turned to rifle through her bag for clothes. She slipped out of her sweatpants and into a pair of leggings, but just pulled a thick hoodie over her t-shirt instead of changing it. Harry’s disappointment was palpable.

“You are a child, Harry,” she said with a roll of her eyes as he frowned at her.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just go.”

Melody shook her head again. She slid her feet into her shoes and then wheeled Harry out of the room, through the hall, and to the elevator. By the time they reached the therapy room, Aiden was waiting by the entrance, posted up against the wall.

“Slow morning?” he asked by way of greeting.

“No, this one just never wakes up on her own,” Harry accused.

Melody huffed half-heartedly. “Can you please shut him up?”

“Gladly.” Aiden grinned at the two of them and followed as Melody pushed Harry through the doorway.

She was surprised by how empty the room was. There was an older woman against the far wall working on her left arm with a therapist, and that was it. Aiden flipped an extra row of lights on before they made their way to their first station. The rain still hadn’t let up. The windows weeped and the outdoors cast a gray gloom over the floor tiles. Melody hoped the weather wasn’t an omen.

Harry sighed as they approached the dumbbells. Melody knew that it was his least favorite activity. Not because it was hard—although he was frustrated that he couldn’t handle the weights he was used to lifting back when he trained with Sean—but because this wasn’t what his main area of focus was. Harry wanted to walk. He wanted to run. And everything else, his strength and flexibility and endurance, that could all wait until he was back on his feet for good. But Melody didn’t fail to appreciate his progress. At first, he’d lacked even the coordination to simply lift and roll a rubber ball.

Aiden helped Harry onto the nearest bench, laying him back, and Melody settled into his abandoned wheelchair. She watched silently as they began through a circuit, working his chest, his arms, his shoulders. She was anxious, jittery. Aiden would determine today whether or not Harry was ready to be discharged tomorrow. He didn’t have to be perfect and he wasn’t going to be completely independent. Melody knew that was going to bother him, but she hoped that if he just showed that he was making enough progress to be allowed home that the new setting would give him some more motivation.

And then there was that new environment that added to her worries. They needed to have a conversation and she wasn’t sure how it would go. Now, probably wasn’t the best time but she was sure if she held off any longer she’d lose all of her gall.

“Hey, Harry,” she began carefully. She glanced up at Aiden, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was hovering over Harry, hands positioned to catch a fallen weight if need be.

Harry huffed in response. He was pouring sweat. It slid along his forehead and dripped to the floor on either side of him. If he was sitting up, it would be stinging his eyes.

“I, uh—” Melody slid her lips back together and took a moment to steel herself. “You couldn’t keep your apartment. The landlord needed to rent it out.” Rip the bandaid right off.

His arms paused, the dumbbells straight above his chest. He was silent for that short moment and then he continued with the next rep, grunting as he pushed his muscles even harder than before. Melody didn’t think this was a good sign. And that idea was reinforced when he didn’t respond.

“Are you gonna say something?”

“What d’yeh want me to say, Mel?"

Aiden no longer looked as focused as before. His gaze flickered between the two of them, unsure of how to moderate if an argument were to ensue.

“I want you to tell me that it’s okay and you don’t mind, or I want you to tell me that you’re pissed off.”

“Well, fine then.” Harry huffed once more as he finished out a rep, nodding to Aiden so that he could catch Harry’s weights. “‘M pissed. But ‘s not your fault. And that doesn’ change anything, does it? Bein’ pissed doesn’ get me my flat back.”

Melody was surprised by his attitude. She’d expected a little bit of a fight, a little more anger, but even as he said he was pissed it was like his emotions were dissipating. She wondered if he had made a conscious decision to control himself. In easier situations he would have been ready to hit something.

“Are you okay living with me, then?” she asked, emboldened by his reaction.

Harry was silent as Aiden helped him shift up into a sitting position. He took the weights back and began with a new exercise, glaring at himself in the mirrored wall before him. Melody watched him grit his teeth with every rep.

“Do I have a choice?” he finally muttered.

Melody couldn’t help the wounded expression that found her face. She took in a sharp breath. Harry’s eyes met her reflection as she made to stand up.

“Mel,” Harry grunted, dropping the dumbbells to his sides. He looked like he was about to try standing himself before he thought better of it, and he squeezed his eyes closed for a short moment. “Tha’s not what I meant.”

“And what did you mean?”

“Nothing. I just—” He huffed, almost grunted, and shook his head. “Nothing.”

Aiden whistled under his breath. “Dude,” he mumbled.

“Fuck off, mate! I didn’ mean that, okay?” Harry stared hard at Melody through the mirror, muscles along his jaw straining. “‘Course I don’ mind stayin’ with yeh. Just would’ve liked if it wasn’ just because I have to, yeah?”

She blinked at him, very aware of the way Aiden was rocking back and forth on his feet. “You could live with Sean. I just thought...”

“Definitely don’ wanna live with fuckin’ Sean.” Harry tilted his head. “Will yeh sit back down, please? ‘M sorry.”

Melody shifted until she was looking across the room at the older woman and the other therapist before she sat back down. Her front teeth gnawed painfully at her lower lip and she could feel Harry’s gaze still on her, but she didn’t turn her head. She remained silent even when she finally reverted to watching Harry work, even when they moved onto his legs. She didn’t speak until Aiden did.

“Well, I think you can leave tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” Harry said at the same time Melody asked, “Really?”

Aiden smiled at them, although he looked like the decision had caused him some inner turmoil, like he was somehow condemning them. Melody, however, wasn’t paying him any mind. She was watching the way that Harry’s face had opened up. He was clutching the bars on the little walkway so tightly that his knuckles had whitened and she almost—almost—forgot the uncomfortable reaction he’d had to coming home with her. For now, she let her fingers sift through the hair at the side of his head and drank in the way that he grinned.

Chapter 6

[shozaii]

Hello! I'm new to your blog and I'd like to ask for a transfer student (gn if its easier on you) from Texas to UA. Like class 1A is told that they're having a new student from Texas and they think to throw a wild west welcome party. Reader doesn't have the heart to tell everyone they're from the city so they just go along with it and maybe them and bakugou end up alone after the party and get to know each other some? Thank you!!!

(a/n):hello anon! thank you so much for the request!! this is really interesting and i hope i did my best!!🥰

p.s- so i read this over and over again and what i understand from here is that reader comes from the city; not from the wild west. i hope i got that right! :’’)

———————————————

texas beaut .

a bakugou katsuki x reader oneshot

“did you hear?! we’re getting a new student!!”

“a new student? cool! i can’t wait to meet them!”

“do you think they would give me their number? now i’m worried...”

“oh my god. shut up you idiots,” bakugou told his friends, having the last few bites of his dinner in the dorms.

“what’s your take on the new kid, man? pretty sure you have something to say,” his red friend said, ignoring the cue for them to quiet down.

“huh? i don’t know. heard they were from... Texas or something. damn deku was talkin’ about it,” he said.

he watched as his friends jump up and down, discussing on even bigger plans. he did hear a few - mainly a welcome party, showing them around school, so many things that he knew he could show interest in. knowing him, he was about to play the “chill guy who’s pretty nonchalant about the new kid thing.”

i mean, they’d probably be an okay person. he thought while zoning out.

“hey, bakugou! we need you for this!”

^^^

“settle down, 1A!” iida said for what seemed like the umpteenth time today, as everyone scurried to their seats. the discussion of the wild west themed party was still going on,and it’s halfway done.

in came aizawa-sensei with his sleeping bag. “now. i’ll make this quick. all of you have heard it - we do have a new student. come in, y/l/n,” he waved his hand to someone outside the door, as the class turned to the door, waiting for someone to enter.

as y/n entered, they received various ‘oohs’ from half of the class. 

bakugou turned to look at the whole scene unfolding, and when he did, he didn’t regret it. 

usually, when it’s someone new, he tends to look away from it as soon as possible. it didn’t seem to buy his time. but right now, it was the total opposite.

his palm which stayed on the jaw now went out of it’s place.

something about y/n pulled him into curiosity. they’re from a different country. they have decided to travel all the way from Texas to UA. of course there could be a reason. but to think that they transferred here - wow.

aizawa-sensei snuggled into his yellow sleeping bag, giving you the floor.

you adjusted your tie, taking in deep breaths. “hello! my name is (y/n) (y/l/n)! i’m so glad to be here! i hope to know much more of your school and also to be friends with everyone here!”

while talking, you took a good look around the classroom.

there was a green-haired boy, eyes gleaming with excitement. a red-haired boy with cute pointy teeth. a girl with pink rosy cheeks. a girl who has earphone jacks on her ears. a dual-color eyed boy.

a spiky blonde haired boy, with ruby red eyes, looking directly at you. something about it was very peculiar.

a few questions in and you noticed your homeroom teacher crawling out of his sleeping bag. “you done? alright. head over to your seat there. the next teacher should be here pretty soon. 1A, you know what to do,” he said, walking out of the door.

you made your way to your assigned seat, and sat down. moments later, a few of your new classmates turned to look at you, introducing themselves. you laughed. it was definitely a new kind of feeling.

especially when you felt the same bright red eyes looking at you.

“um, what’s that boy’s name over there with the blonde hair?”

^^^

“hey.” you heard him say as he approached your desk after a whole day of stealing glances. you weren’t weirded out by that either - considering the fact that you were curious about him too.

everyone talked to you during the school hours, except for him.

it was only the both of you left in the class. the class rep, iida, handed over the key to him. they left, saying sorry a number of times because they had lots of work to complete back in the dorms.

you did need assistance back to the place too. you weren’t used to the school just yet, so having one person as a company would definitely help.

“oh, hello! um, i’m still new to all this, but how do i address you?”

“king explosion murder.”

“woah! really?” you chuckled.

“no,” he snorted at first, but then looked away immediately. “bakugou. look,i’m gonna get straight to the point. i got a pretty tight schedule, ya know? now, put these on.”

“blindfolds? oh, they have cute little eyes on them! are they yours?”

“hah? no way. it’s dunce fa- kaminari’s.”

“okay... wait, but why do i need to put these on?”

“just put them on and....and trust me. hurry up.”

you obliged, sliding them onto your eyes. he then held your arm, indirectly telling you to start walking.

so you did. he was a great company, even though you didn’t get to see his face. he held you back in case you looked like you were about to fall/ hit something nearby. other times, he was quiet.

and it wasn’t like it was awkward silence, either. it was a pristine one, as there were small talks in between. him trying not to snicker with how you stretch your arms out to walk, and him giving you directions.

it was nice.

he then told you to stop, and you heard a large door opening. he brought you in, and you assumed that he closed it behind the two of you.

“alright. take ‘em off,” he mumbled.

the second you did, you saw party streamers flying everywhere, with balloons hanging. you saw the entirety of 1A wearing cowboy hats or boots, and bandanas either tied on their wrists or their necks.the decorative banners had little horses on them, with mini Texas flags, and basically what you would see in the wild west. kaminari was playing the harmonica with so much of passion.

it was cute, but this was all for you?

but how were you supposed to tell them-

“welcome to UA, y/n!” they screamed, rushing over to you, with some engulfing you in warm hugs and high-fives.

“oh my lord! this is amazing, thank you so much!” you smiled widely, clapping your hands. “and the decorations! this is amazing!! i really appreciate your hard work.”

maybe now’s not the time. a cake, self-made. and the decorations. some were handmade, you could tell by the adorable drawings. the setup itself was glorious. so no, you didn’t want to shatter their efforts.

this was still amazing, regardless.

“so, are you ready to cut the cake y/n?! sato and bakugou worked on it,” mina - the pink haired girl - pointed to the both of them.

“of course! i’m pretty sure it tastes so good,” you said, walking towards the wide table with the lovable bunch.

^^^

the common room was cleaned up really quickly. not a lot of mess was made but cleanliness is priority for sure.

“so... you were zoning out quite a lot lately. what’s up with you?”

bakugou looked into your eyes. you gulped a little, setting down your drink. “nah, it’s nothing-,”

“was the cake out of taste?” he raised an eyebrow. “pretty sure i used the right ingredients. sugar boy over there knows his ways with desserts. or was it the food?”

“woah, woah, chill out bakugou! no, the cake was perfect.i loved it a lot. like,i would eat it again.”

he cleared his throat, backing away. “damn it. okay, cool. then what was up with you? no one asked you up to this point, so there.”

“um... okay. you have to promise me not to tell anyone about this then.”

“i knew it.”

“wait! it had nothing to do with the party. absolutely nothing. but keep it a secret. promise me?” you held out a pinky finger, waiting for him to do the same.

he looked at it, hesitated; but gave in anyway. “whatever. i promise. what is it?”

“how do i say it... i’m not, um, from the part of where the wild west is? more like.... i’m not exactly from this part of Texas. yes, i am familiar with this type of culture, but i wasn’t exactly raised with it.”

he blinked a few times, and nodded. “oh.”

“and it’s not like i wasn’t hating it at all! this was already one of the best moments i’ve had so far in the academy; which makes me look forward to more! it just made me sad that i did have to admit it sooner or later. on the other hand, i was so happy.”

“geez, i told them about it,” bakugou placed a hand behind his neck. “gonna have to ask this again - was this whole party thing okay?”

“yes, don’t worry about it!”

“i’m not worried! i just didn’t want to think i wasted my time prepping for this!” he said. 

so he was worried.

“worried or not, this was very eventful. you’ve outdone yourself, bakugou katsuki.”

he smirked. “ha, you don’t seem bad yourself.”

“why, thank you. the same goes to you, good sir,” you bowed.

“hey. multiply that by 10.”

“no fair!” 

the talk went on for quite a while. the bakusquad were bewildered by how bakugou didn’t seem to complain to you about his bedtime, but then again, they loved seeing their friend - usually really worried about his schedule - finally beating it while making friends with the texas beaut.

———————————————

(a/n): beaut ; a fine example of something. it sounded really wholesome to me, so i went with this title. i hope you liked it! <3

[lxveille]

if a tree fell in the woods, like i fell for you

s coups x reader

word count: ~ 2930 warnings: none a/n: roommates!au; part of the morning after shuffle

It must be fret that wakes you up. A nagging rumble through dreams saying you’ll be late that makes you snap your eyes open and reach out to your left to check the time on your phone.

Except your phone isn’t on your bedside table.

Nope. That’s not quite right. Rather: except your bedside table isn’t on your left. 

Your hand instead meets a warm shoulder, and the fact that you aren’t in your own bed jumps to the front of your mind. And really, it would be cause for panic if it wasn’t accompanied by the memory of how you ended up in your roommate’s bed instead of your own. Although as you blink a little further out of sleep and stare at Seungcheol’s back a little longer, you find yourself second guessing if you should be quite so calm about it. Waking up beside your roommate in little more than one of his old university t-shirts is far from the norm for you.

What time is it? The nagging reminds you of your priorities. 

The drawn curtains in Seungcheol’s room still allow enough light to filter in for you to gather yesterday’s shirt and jeans from off his floor without having to fumble. With your clothing bundled in your arms, you make your way out of his room. You only spare a brief glance back at where he’s still sleeping soundly in bed. The sheet still pulled halfway down his chest from when you’d gotten out from under it yourself. In that moment, it crosses your mind to pull it back up as if to tuck him in. You step out into the living room of your apartment without doing so. 

This room feels colder than his. A couple of empty cups are still sitting out on the table. The ‘bon voyage’ banner a friend had hand-drawn still hanging askew on the wall. There’s no crowd of friends springing up to shout surprise when you step in this time. Yet the sudden urge to cry comes creeping back up on you, just as it had last night. 

You continue on to your own bedroom before the feeling can truly settle in. Your suitcase and carry on are still where you left them, zipped shut atop your bed. You would have had to move them if things had gone a bit differently last night. If things had gone the way you thought they would have. If you and Seungcheol hadn’t stayed up after everyone else had left to clean up. If he hadn’t kissed you when all the dishes were clean. If you hadn’t kissed him back. 

You shake your head and scan the room for your phone. It sits unassuming -- and unplugged -- atop your mattress. You gather your clothing into one arm to pick up your phone. Now getting to dread not only what time it might be, but what level of battery it’s at as well.

10:48. Shit. 

You don’t even check the percentage left before tossing the phone onto your pillow and dropping the clothing onto the floor. Several curses come out under your breath as you hurriedly pull the baggy shirt off over your head and frankly put yesterday’s outfit back on again. Inside your head, you try to do the math on how long it will take you to get to the nearest metro stop. How fast you’ll have to run in order to make it there in time to feel like you still have enough room for unexpected delays on your way to the airport. 

You check your phone once more before rushing to the bathroom. Your reflection is a mess; hair that could really use a wash and circles under your eyes from a lack of sleep. It’s the least of your concerns. You brush your teeth for only as long as it takes for your mouth to feel refreshed. After a quick splash of cold water on your face, you groan in frustration into your towel while drying off. 

Just as you’re stuffing your toothbrush into the toiletry bag meant for your carry-on, you hear Seungcheol calling your name. A weight sinks in your stomach. 

Of all the nights for you to hook up with him -- of course it would be right before you leave for an extended business trip. You catch your reflection once more. It’s been two years since you ever worried about what Seungcheol would think of how you looked in the morning. Now you feel once again like you had in those first few weeks after you first moved in with him. Uncertain, nervous, and cursing every movie where people wake up looking refreshed and flawless. 

“Please don’t want to talk,” you mutter an aimless prayer before heading out the bathroom door. 

Seungcheol is leaning against the kitchen counter, waiting for the coffee machine to kick into gear. “Everything okay…?” he calls after when he sees you rush across the living room back to your bedroom. 

“Not really!” you answer at the time as you double-check the contents of your carry-on. Toiletries, passport, tickets, wallet. “I have to get out of here by like, 11:00 latest or there’s no way I’m making the right bus to the airport on time.” 

Charger, you realize just as you finish up the words, and scramble to grab it out of its usual socket in your room. You’ll need it by the time you make it to the airport. While you’re shoving it into your bag, Seungcheol appears in your bedroom doorway. 

“I could give you a lift to the airport, you know,” he offers. “It wouldn’t take as long as public transport.” 

It isn’t the first time he’s made that argument. Still, you give the same refusal you had before, “I don’t wanna impose. It’s fine. Thanks, though.” 

This time you say it, though, it’s breathlessly and fairly unconvinced. He frowns, deeper than he had the previous times you’d turned down his offer. “It’s already 10:55,” he points out. You resist the sudden urge to scream. “If you let me drive you, you’ll actually have time to have some coffee and a shower before you have to go.” And get a bit of a charge on your phone. 

Not to mention, the longer you spend standing there staring at him skeptically, the less time you have to run to the subway. 

“We should check the traffic before deciding when to leave,” you decide. A smile of relief comes across Seungcheol’s face. Aren’t you the one who ought to be relieved? 

But that feeling doesn’t come for you until he asks if he should make enough coffee for two. 

Seungcheol follows your lead when it comes to choosing what time to go. The stray thought of a bumper-to-bumper standstill convinces you that it’d be best to head out no later than 12:30. 

But it’s an hour and a half that you’re grateful. 

And all the more grateful that some force in the universe seems to have heard your prayer. He seems just the same as any other morning you’ve spent with him. The only fracture in the illusion comes when he hands you a mug of coffee; his fingers lingering on the warm surface beneath yours a few seconds too long. You don’t say a word about it. 

The time passes quickly. Still, the chance to wash up properly and change into a fresh outfit for the flight has you feeling anew. 

New enough even to question when Seungcheol insists on carrying your suitcase down to the car for you. 

He’s always been courteous to you. It was part of the reason why you’d gotten comfortable with him so quickly after moving in. It shouldn’t be a surprise that he’d want to help you with your luggage. And yet. 

Your mind rewinds back to his hands on your skin as he lifts the bag to head down the stairs. It carries on from there to recall the feel of his kisses, and the warmth of his breath beside your ear and upon your cheeks as he’d murmured all kinds of things. Things you cannot possible allow yourself to dwell upon right now. Your thoughts already have you lagging on the steps behind him as it is. 

“I can take it from here,” you suggest when the two of you step out your building’s front door. The temperature difference between the outside air and your apartment is immediately evident. Warmth spreads over your skin, sunlight tickling up your arms. Seungcheol squints in the light and refuses you. 

“I’ve got it. It’s not far anyway.” 

You wonder if you could be mistaken for a couple as he leads you down the sidewalk to his car. The thought buzzes around your head. And unlike summer mosquitoes, you can’t just flick your hand a few times to get it to go away. 

It’s little help that Seungcheol opens the passenger-side door for you. 

“I really appreciate this, you know,” you find yourself saying as he’s turning on the engine. “You probably wanted to sleep in. It’s my own fault for forgetting to turn on my alarm for this morning. Honestly, I should have set it ages ago when I figured out how I was getting to the airport anyway.”The words seem to just keep pouring out of you. Filling up the air with words that pretend as if last night had already sunk to the back of your memories. “How I was meaning to get to the airport, I guess I mean.”

Seungcheol laughs. You try to focus on the ticking sound of his turn signal instead of it’s warm rumble. “I already told you, it’s fine.” The car moves through the intersection moments after the light turns green. There’s no signal sound to distract you when he adds, “Besides, it’s also kinda my fault you overslept.”

You tell yourself to look out the window, but your eyes stay fixed on his profile all the same. He says it nonchalantly. Like it had been a late night chat or an insistence on one more episode on Netflix to blame. “I’m the one going away. I should be more responsible,” you point out. His eyebrows wrinkle and lips tug downwards, but his gaze stays steady on the road. You wonder if it's the going away or the implication that sleeping with him had been irresponsible that’s caused that shift in his expression. 

Both, of course, is a reasonable answer. One that you don’t quite want to linger on. There��s not enough time between here and the airport for all the questions it’d bring up. 

“I wish you weren’t leaving today,” Seungcheol announces. You look down to your lap, fingers fidget with the seatbelt in the silence that follows. His sigh makes you glance his way only to refocus your attention on the car in the lane next to his. There’s a lot of things you’re afraid he might say. Or say again, if all your recollections of his voice from last night are accurate. “You promise you’re coming back at the end of the trip, right?” 

That wasn’t something you’d anticipated. The tension that had avoiding looking his way snaps in that instant, and you can’t help but laugh at the question. “Of course I’m coming back.” 

“Promise?” he implores before flicking the turn signal and glancing back to change lanes. 

“You’re really that worried about losing my half of the rent, huh?” You try to peddle back to just being Seungcheol’s roommate. “I thought you’d be excited to have the place to yourself for a couple months.” 

“You never know. You could fall in love with the place and not want to come back at all. And then…” He doesn’t finish the thought. 

“Well, then I’d have to come back to pack up the rest of my stuff at our place first,” you fill in for him. “But come on. That’s not gonna happen.” 

“So you do promise?” The car carries on straight down the highway, and he takes the opportunity to let his gaze flit over to you for a split second. 

Your laughter does little to lift his serious demeanor. At least not until you speak through it to say, “Yeah. I promise. This isn’t the last you’ll see of me.” 

The rest of the drive almost passes for normal. Like it could be a drive anywhere, on any other day of your friendship with him. When the signs for the airport exit start popping up, a heaviness slips back into the air inside Seungcheol’s car. 

“It’s not the rent money I’m gonna miss. You know that, right?” 

“Yeah,” you respond, keeping your tone as light as you can. Refusing to let yourself come to the conclusion he wants you to. “Because I’m still paying for my half even though I’m gonna be away. You’re pretty lucky, you know?” 

There’s a chuckle from him. “I know,” he agrees, eyes scanning the signage ahead. “But that’s not what I meant.” 

You shift in the passenger seat and look up through the windshield to spot a plan descending towards the nearby runway. “Seungcheol…” You start without knowing what you want to say.  ‘Don’t’ occurs as an option. “It’s okay. Things don’t have to change--” You try to continue, but he says something of his own at the same moment. So you cut yourself short and lick at your lips uncertainly before prompting, “What’d you say?”

He hesitates. “I’m sorry I never said anything before last night.” 

“Look…” You don’t know where you’re going with it. Seungcheol waits. The traffic, however, does not. And the drop off spot for your airline is coming up. “I get it. It’s weird that I’m gonna be away for so long. And, like, feelings can be confusing. It happens. It’s fine.” 

“I’m not confused,” he tells you at the same time as he pulls up to the curb. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you.” You suck in a sharp breath of air. A panicked thought says to throw open the door and turn inside the terminal without even stopping for your suitcase. Still, you stay glued to your seat, one shoulder pressing against the car door as you stare at him. “And I know it’s maybe not fair to say that to you right here. Now. But I just… need you to know.” It sounds like something he’s been drafting in his head for at least half the drive here. Though the look on his face seems to say it hasn’t come out sounding the way he planned. 

You blink several times over and let your sight dart from him to the side mirror just outside the window, and back again. “What do you mean? We’ve lived together for, like, two years and suddenly you’re in love with me because we had sex?” 

“Not suddenly,” he rushes to clarify. Somewhere around you, another car blares its horn. You watch a flush rise in his face in disbelief. “For, like… a year and a half.” 

“I have to get through security,” you blurt out in your utter loss as to what you can possibly say. It hasn’t fully processed yet. How could it possibly be true? For it to be true for that long and for you to have never noticed? 

“I know,” he agrees. Another horn sounds, and he breaks his gaze from you to look into the rearview. His eyes snap back to yours only a moment later. Choosing to ignore the pressure to move along. “And now you know.” 

You turn in the seat to look backwards from between the two front seats as a different horn goes off. “What am I supposed to do with that?” you ask. When you turn your head to face him again, you find your new forward-leaning position has you much closer to him than you anticipated. Seungcheol looks at you, lips parted in thought. If he notices the way your attention lingers there, he doesn’t let on. 

“Whatever you want.” He doesn’t sound so sure. “I’ll be here when you come home.” 

Something inside of you falters. The buzzing in your head interrupted by another car’s nagging beeps. You pull yourself upright in the seat and click open the seatbelt. 

Seungcheol is out of the driver’s side just as your slamming shut your car door. He circles round to the trunk to take out your suitcase. You stand, short on thought and time, and watch him tug up the handle and wheel it over to where you’re waiting. 

You reach out to take it, and you let your palm come down over the back of his hand in the process. He stills, and looks you over with questions he knows he can’t ask right now. 

“I’ll call you when I land,” you decide suddenly. 

He isn’t entirely sure what to make of it. But it brings a faint smile to his face all the same. His hand slip out from underneath yours only to hold up his pinky. “Promise?” 

It feels normal. Not entirely the same -- but familiar all the same. You lift your free hand and gently twist your little finger together with his. “Promise,” you say quietly. 

He nods and lets you go. 

You only make it three steps towards the busy entrance before glancing back. 

He catches the moment, standing with the door to his car open and a whole background ensemble of horns around him. He grins and waves goodbye, and you think you might already know what you need to say when you call. 

[feenyreadscomics]

Rosaries, The Fourth Part

So, if you missed part 3: TL;DR Matt and Steve try to save a kid. They fail, kid dies. This will be going into the effects of that. Matt is depressed, and self harm does come up. Skip this if you have to; I wont be offended.

Matt's head was throbbing. He woke up, slowly. His mask was still on his face.

That was a relief.

"Oh good. You're awake." The voice sounded familiar. Steve.

"Wh-where am I?" Matt responded.

"The Avengers tower. It was either that, or the hospital. Last I checked, you were pretty anti hospital, and Tony brought you here. You were pretty banged up. Tony ran a scan. Your pupils weren't responding to light. So, is your vision back?"

"Did they take off my helmet?"

"No." A steady beat. Good.

"How long have I been here?"

"A few days." Shit. Foggy was going to have his head on a platter. Served with parsley garnish. "So is your vision returning?"

"Unsure." Well, his radar sense, world on fire, whatever you want to call it.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three."

"Good."

Matt pursed his lips. "Hey, can I call a friend to pick me up?"

"Take it up with Stark. Or Dr. Banner. They've been seeing to your medical treatment."

"Can you get them?"

"Sure." Steve walked out of the room. A few minutes later, Dr. Banner entered.

"Can I go home?" Matt asks.

"Normally I'd let you go, but right now... I'm not sure if that's the best idea. Your head scans returned your eyes being unresponsive to light. We need to be sure that's managed."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"Eye chart. Do you have prescription eyeglasses?" Fuck. Matt can't bullshit his way out of it.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone?"

"Sure. Your prescription cant be that bad."

"NLP."

"NLP?"

"No light perception." Dr. Banner's eyes widened.

"You're blind?" Dr. Banner's voice raised. Matt wasnt looking forward to explaining that.

"Yes. Should I have picked Batman as a name? Or would that be too on the nose?" Matt smirked.

"I mean, it's not the weirdest thing that's happened considering I can turn into a green rage monster if I so choose. But still. Blind?"

"I use echolocation. My other senses are heightened. I'll fail any eye exam you give me, but if you toss things at me, I'll be able to catch them." Dr. Banner tossed a pen. Matt caught it with one hand.

"Ok, you're fine. I'll discharge you, if you have someone who can help take you home, and make sure you don't sleep too long."

"I've got someone."

--

A half hour later, Foggy came in. Matt was relieved to see (well, hear) him.

Foggy was instructed by Dr. Banner to make sure he healed up before letting him Daredevil again. Which, yeah, he needed to heal.

He needed to get better.

He needed to be better.

Or more people would die. He cant have anyone die. But six died under his watch.

So Matt cooperated. No going outside. Wake up every thirty minutes. Work on lawyer paperwork. Do some boxing. See if he can get stronger. See if he can get better. Be better.

Because if he can't protect everyone, why should he try?

--

Matt isnt getting better. He keeps losing, losing, losing.

Stick shows up. "You're pathetic, Matty, you know that?"

I know, Matt thinks. I know.

--

"So, we have a meeting with Mr. Smith tomorrow at-"

"Yes. We do. I know this. Please stop reminding me." Matt snaps.

"Matt. Are you ok?" Foggy has that tone of voice. The I Am Very Concerned Right Now tone. The We Need To Talk About This tone. Matt hated that tone.

"Look, I dont need your sympathy. I'll be there. Dont worry about me." Matt stormed out.

Foggy wondered what had happened to his partner.

--

Well, the Smith case was going to shit. Matt kept reading over the documents they had, looking for something.

Foggy walked in. "Hey Matt, could you-"

"I'm busy." Matt snapped, and turned his chair away.

"Oh. Ok."

--

Matt decided to put on the Daredevil suit for a bit.

He went out.

He got stabbed, and didn't even stop the attacker.

Matt went home.

--

They lost the Smith case. Horribly. Matt lit a lighter, felt the heat coming off of it.

He considered it. He put the lighter away.

--

Steve hadn't seen Daredevil in a while. He hadn't seen Matt either.

Priorities were Daredevil first. Daredevil was, after all, the most likely to be dead. Steve went over to Claire's. Claire hadn't seen him recently. Neither had Linda.

This was aggravating, at best. But if he could find the person who escorted Daredevil out, he might be able to find Daredevil.

Steve dialed the phone.

"Hey Tony, quick question: who was the guy that escorted Daredevil out of Stark tower?"

"Hang on, let me check," Tony responded. "Hey Jarvis, who escorted Daredevil out?" Was heard faintly in the background. Tony put the phone back to his ear. "A guy named Franklin Nelson. "

"Thanks Tony. I'll see you later." Steve hung up quickly. Steve headed to the library, and used the computer.

"Ok, first the colorful circle thing, then the bar on top...type in his name, and then the enter key... boom." Franklin Nelson ran a law firm with Matt... interesting. Franklin was obviously connected to both Matt (being Matt's partner) and Daredevil. Meaning if he finds Foggy, his odds of finding Daredevil and Matt dramatically increase. Steve clicks on a link, telling him the address of Nelson and Murdock. He gets a scrap of paper and pencil.

Steve gets on a bus headed to Hell's Kitchen.

--

Steve takes a deep breath, and knocks.

"Come in!" A woman's voice chimed.

Steve opened the door. Inside was a young blonde lady, with...well... her hair was... distinctive. Much volume. She wore a basic black pantsuit. She got up from behind the desk.

"Karen Page." Karen held out her hand. Steve shook it. "And you are?"

"Steve. Steve Rogers." Steve cleared his throat, as if to say something, then said nothing.

"Nelson is the only one in the office today," Karen Page babbled. "Would you like to see him?"

"Sure." Karen stood up from behind her desk, and lead him to Nelson's office.

Steve took a big breath and entered. A portly man was sitting behind the desk. He had light brown hair, a bit overgrown, and wore a very blue suit coat, with a very orange tie. Steve had thought his Cap costume was irritating to the eyes. This had to take the cake.

"Hello, I'm Steve."

"Hi Steve, I'm Fraklin Nelson, but you can call me Foggy. In fact, please call me Foggy." Franklin said. "What can we do for you?"

"This isnt particularly related to your firm, but I have had two friends go MIA who you seem to be connected to. Daredevil and Matt. I'm worried. Do you know anything?"

"Wait...you haven't seen anything of Daredevil? Not even in the news?"

"Yep."

Foggy standed up. "Well it's been a pleasure meeting you, but if you don't mind, I have to go."

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Possibly to beat up a blind man." Foggy closed the door.

"Karen, take the rest of the day off." Foggy said, as he exited the firm. Steve followed him all the way to Matt's house.

--

Guilty my fault always my fault my fault I killed him shouldnt be doing this someone forgive my my fault guilty what a shitbag fuckup you are, Matt, shitbag shitbag shitbag you're just a waste. Matt ran the flame you need to feel like you're hero, but you're not along the flat end of a knife. You shitbag Stick was right, you cant ever ever ever be useful He pressed it to his skin.

Breathe in. And out. Peace.

Apologies for it being so dark. Next part will have Foggy and Steve intervene, and hopefully introduce Bucky.

[quxntumvandyne]

Neighbors: *Chapter 2* (Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Masterlist

Words: 3k (longest thing i’ve written so far lol yay)

Warnings: nightmares, mentions of burns and blisters (idk just in case) and a curse word (yay)

Summary: These powers had come not too long before Mr. Stark had found you and taken you in as a new part of the team. However, you didn’t know much at all and had nobody to confide in besides Wanda. You felt alone and like nobody understood you. Until you heard his screams in the middle of the night. You had the urge to help your new neighbor; but did he want your help?

a/n: ahhhh part two is here! i hope all you babes love it and i love this story! i’m in the mix of doing part two of STB (my loki fic) and a new story ;) but it won't be too long before i update again. plus i’m almost to 500 followers??? what??? I'm so grateful for all of you! anyway, i’ll stop rambling, i hope you enjoy!

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“That’d be nice.”

.

.

.

You stood in the shower, not too hot and not too cold after your long training session with everyone today. They’d pushed you as far as you thought you could go and even farther. You let the water run down every inch of your body, with your hair flat and soaking on your neck. It dripped everywhere as you let your hands run through the tangles before washing it. You stood for a couple minutes just to breathe, replaying today’s session in your head.

You didn’t get to work with everyone today, as your body couldn’t handle it all in just one session. You started with Natasha, who was a great teacher but taught awfully fast. You were a quick learner but found that you needed to be faster. But you adapted quickly to her style, only to turn around and have Peter next. He was a whole different ball game. You thought he would go easier on you considering he is a kid, but he quickly made the point that just because he is a kid, doesn’t mean he’s any less of a threat to others.

You worked with five different Avengers today, back to back to back. You could barely stand up straight after your session with Sam Wilson when Tony said you could call it in for the day. You’d never felt more relieved and tired in your life. Sure, training was fun but it was a lot to take in. Tony walked back with you, saying you did great today and probably other stuff, but you were so tired, you zoned him out. You should probably stop doing that, but too late now.

You hadn’t yet trained with six others: Mr. Rogers, Wanda, Mr. Rhodes, Mr. Barton, Vision and your neighbor, Bucky. Tony said tomorrow was everyone’s full day off but you still needed to train so you’d have a small session on your own.

Before the session today though, you had asked Wanda about Bucky, although she didn’t get much time to say anything about him before you had to start the session.

Wanda did say some things like he didn’t open up much and had nightmares (but you already knew that) but she would explain later; whenever that was. You were so intrigued by this new person and you hadn’t even had a conversation with him yet. All you knew was that Bucky and Mr. Rogers go way back and he’s about as mysterious and complex as they get, according to Wanda.

Whatever that means, you thought to yourself.

 You turned off the water and grabbed a towel when stepping out of the shower, letting the cloth wrap around you while goosebumps covered your body. You looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling exhausted and yet somehow, rejuvenated. Something about this place and these people made you feel welcome, even though you barely knew them.

You combed your hair, put on your bathrobe and walked into your room to find some clothes to put on for the rest of the day. You looked at the clock, realizing it was already 3:30 PM.

Wow, this day happened very quickly.

You had a little time to yourself, so you decided to go exploring. You still managed to get lost a lot in the facility, so a little looking around wouldn’t hurt. Hopefully.

Your body was already sore when putting on some black shorts and a long sleeve blue shirt with three buttons at the top. You found a bruise had already begun to form on your left thigh and your arms felt like noodles. Your entire body was like Jell-O, much too wobbly. You wanted to just lay in bed for a while, but decided against it and slipped out of your room to explore. You passed Mr. Barton and Natasha while walking down the hallway, towards what must be the living room maybe? You heard Mr. Barton mention something about two sons and daughter, but just waved hello and scurried down the hallway, not wanted to eavesdrop.

Because that worked out so well last time.

 You made it to the living room area with couches and a large TV to find Peter playing video games on the Xbox and probably not even noticing you’re there.

But of course, you forget that he has enhanced senses and says “Hi Y/N, need anything? Wanna join?” before you can take another step.

You jump a little at his question, as he asked it without even turning his head. You replied no politely and yet skittish, as you were still not used to the fact that basically nobody could sneak up on him. You made a mental note to never try unless maybe one day you found yourself both brave and sneaky enough to try and scare him.

“No thank you, Peter, I’m just looking around the facility.”

“That’s cool.”

He was so completely invested in his game, you wondered if he would react to anything you said. Why not mess with him a bit, he’s still a kid.

“Hey Peter, my hair is on fire.”

“I hope you enjoy that, sounds fun.”

“I broke my foot in the shower earlier.”

“Uh huh, maybe later.”

“Where’s the kitchen?”

“Oh, nothing much.”

You just shook your head and wandered off down a different hallway to see who you might come across next on your little adventure around the facility.

 Next, you passed Mr. Stark’s lab where he and Dr. Banner were heavily focused on their computers. You stopped to watch them work for a minute, as Dr. Banner’s moved intricately and yet quickly around the lab while Tony did the same, just not as gracefully.

You always found Mr. Stark to be pretty put together, but he turns out to be quite clumsy. He’s already run into Banner twice since you’ve been observing them work in the lab and as you began to walk away, Banner noticed and waved at you and you waved back as Tony looked over. He gave you a smirk and turned back to his work. You always wanted to work in a lab like one of those, even if it was just for a day to see what it was like. Just even to listen to Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner work together and hear them banter and pass ideas back and forth. They were always working, and they seemed to work well together. You slowed walked away not looking where you were going when you suddenly bumped into somebody and you immediately felt a hot burning liquid go down the front of your shirt and your arms as you looked up to see who you bumped into.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry, are you alright?”

You stared up slightly at a scruffy and exhausted looking Bucky Barnes who was holding a now empty coffee mug in his hand that once held a scalding hot cup of coffee. Your face immediately turned red, but you weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment, shock or pain.

Your stomach burned as the liquid had become sticky now and your shirt stuck to your stomach, growing cold but your skin burning.

Who drinks coffee at 4 in the afternoon?

“I do, but not anymore.”

You realized you said that out loud, but that wasn’t really a priority right now.

Bucky set down his coffee cup on the ground next to his feet and apologized again but you were still staring at his eyes; part of you couldn’t look away because of how different they looked than any other eyes you’d ever seen, and the other part was just angry at both of you because of how much pain you were in and you wanted him to know it.

“Well, this is pleasant,” you squeaked out, as Bucky stood there in front of you, neither quite sure what to do about what just happened.

“Let's go get you cleaned up,” he said groggily. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, with a short sleeve white t-shirt on and some joggers, with no socks or shoes.

You glued your arms to your side as you awkwardly walked next to him back towards the rooms and dining room, not sure what to say if anything at all.

 You sat at the dining table while Bucky grabbed some first aid supplies for you and some clothes. He came back with burn gel, gauze, and a pile of clothes for you to change into, now that yours were cold, wet and sticky. You thought at first he went into your room to get clothes, but then became rigid when you realized they were some of his own clothing.

“It’s okay if you keep them, I don’t wear those anymore. And once you change, come back out so we can wrap your arm,” Bucky said gently.

You looked down at your right foreman to notice that it was burned pretty badly.

How did that cup of coffee manage to do that? you wondered. It barely mattered now, but that coffee was pretty damn hot.

You walked into your room and shut the door quietly. You began to undress and when you lifted your shirt, your stomach was pink and was tender to the touch but definitely not burned as bad as your arm. You winced when you slid your shirt sleeve off but thankfully, Bucky’s shirt he gave you was bigger so the sleeve barely touched that part of your arm. He also gave you some black shorts to wear, which you had to tie because they were a bit loose. You left your clothes in a pile on the floor, too tired and in pain to move them anywhere else and you walked back out to the dining room.

You stopped at the end of the hallway to find Bucky dead asleep at the table, with the gauze in his hand and his face resting on his right arm, with a strand of hair laying on his face. He seemed so peaceful, so you decided to leave him be but stay at the table and not leave him alone.

There was no way you’d be able to wake him up, so you just let him sleep and you sat a couple chairs down. You did slip over to grab some other gauze pads, the burn gel, and some wrap-able gauze to clean up your arm.

You set the supplies in front of you and opened the burn gel and put some on your hand. You had stayed in the room a bit longer and let your arm run under cold water to relieve some pain. It helped a little, but this gel should make it feel better; hopefully. You looked at your skin, which was beginning to form small blisters but you knew better than to poke at them. You gently squeezed some burn gel into your hand and lightly rubbed it on your forearm, causing you to wince.

You went back and forth between looking at Bucky and your arm to make sure you were being careful with both. You quietly ripped open the gauze package and placed the sterile pad on your burn and began to wrap your arm. Once you finished, you scurried over to the trash can and threw away your trash, with your arm already feeling better.

You sat back down, but this time when you looked at Bucky, it was the same face he’d been making the first time you saw him in bed. Right before he had a nightmare.

You had nightmares a lot as a kid, but not as many now. You knew how to calm yourself down after one, but had never been around another person when they were having one.

Bucky made a small grunting noise in his sleep and jerked a bit with a look of discomfort on his face. He dropped this gauze pad on the floor and jerked again. He began to thrash and make noises, and you could begin to make out words.

Some were in English, others in a language you didn’t recognize; maybe German or Dutch? You weren’t sure, but it wasn’t a priority right now.

You stood up to move closer to him but not too quickly. He had stopped speaking and was thrashing less violently for you to get close enough to touch him but far enough to jump back if he became violent again. You looked at the discomfort on his face and wish you could wake him and relieve him of his pain. You also wanted to know what was causing him to do this, to learn more about him.

But your thoughts were cut off by his eyes snapping open and a scream piercing the air around you.

He sat up straight like aboard and began to look around, not understanding his surroundings yet. He was scared and defensive, but you went into action, bending down in front of him. He looked at you with wide and wild eyes, but you looked back at him with gentle ones.

You were not afraid of the man before you. You only wanted to help him. Understand who he was. You were drawn to him. You grabbed his hands, one warm and the other ice cold.

“No no no no where is he? WHERE IS HE?” Bucky screamed, still frantically looking around.

You quietly shushed him and tried to calm his nerves.

“Nobody is here for you. It’s just me. You’re okay, nobody is here to hurt you. It’s just me.”

“No he’s here, I know it!”

“No Bucky, it’s just me. Nobody else.”

He looked at you and his eyes began to settle just a bit as he realized you two were alone. He dropped down to your level on the floor and let go of your hands to put them on his head. You sat and waited for him to do what he needed to do, and he’s breathing finally returned back to normal after a few minutes. He pulled his hair back into a ponytail and had beads of sweat on his forehead.

You weren’t sure what to say, so you sat in silence for a while. You felt horrible. You should’ve woken him earlier, to relieve him of those visions. You couldn’t help but wonder who he was dreaming or thinking about. Before you could even think about it, you blurted it out.

“I’m sorry.”

You looked down at your lap as Bucky rose his eyes to look at you in confusion.

“Why are you apologizing?” Bucky asked.

“I should’ve woken you when the nightmare started. I know what it’s like.”

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t have wanted you to. I could’ve hurt you.”

“I’d be fine.” You looked up at him and he was leaned back on his chair he sat in before with his feet crossed and elbows on his knees. You sat about two feet away from him and you felt guilty.

“You have nothing to feel guilty about whatsoever. I’ve never had someone be there right when I wake up so usually, I have to calm myself down. It doesn’t always work. But you… seem to be experienced. You said you know what it’s like?”

You sighed. “Unfortunately.”

You sat in silence for a good minute when Bucky spoke up again.

“Thank you.”

Well, you weren’t expecting that, that’s for sure. You lifted your head up to see his face, his cheeks a bit pink.

“For what?” you asked out of curiousity. 

“Calming me down. Only a few others can do it but never that fast. How’d you know what to do?”

You looked at him and pulled your knees to your chest.

“Like I said, I have experience.”

He smirked at you and looked down at his lap. You blushed fiercely and squeeze your knees together.

“Have you hurt people before who tried to wake you up?”

“Just ask Steve, he’s had a couples punches and kicks before trying to wake me up. I wouldn’t want that to happen to you.”

“Well thank you. I don’t know about you but I always liked to be cuddled after nightmares.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re my neighbor then.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, I’ll have a cuddle buddy when the dreams get bad.” Bucky looked at you sideways after he said this as your eyes grew wide.

He chuckled, “I’m just kidding, doll. But I do like talking to you.”

You laugh softly, and replied, “You’re not half bad yourself.”

“Oh really?”

“Well, we just met so maybe things could change.”

“For better or worse?” He stared at you, curious about your answer with a hint of flirting in there, not that you noticed.

You looked at him dead in the eye with a new found confidence and said, “That’s up to you, Barnes.”

He laughed and you smiled too, loving the sound of his laugh.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking..”

“Yes?” Bucky asked.

You took a pause and then took a chance.

“What were you dreaming about?”

“Oh, uh-“

“You don’t have to tell, I knew it wasn’t a great question to ask and I’m sor-“

“Woah, Woah Y/N slow down. It’s okay. You seem like a pretty trustworthy person. But some stuff I keep to myself. Let’s just say it was old memories coming back to haunt me, but I’m okay.”

“Okay.”

You felt a bit embarrassed but Bucky got up and offered you a hand to pull you up as well. Once you stood up, Bucky yawned and noticed that your arm had been wrapped.

“Better than what I would’ve done.”

“Ya know, you’re pretty clumsy Barnes.”

“Oh look who’s talking.”

“Shut up.”

He scoffed at your remark and you both walked back to your rooms, not even realizing you were still wearing his clothes with the scent of vanilla on them.

 Little did either of you know that Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers had seen the whole encounter as well, both of them curious as to how this new friendship would blossom.

.

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I hope you liked it! If you want to be added to the tag list, just hop over to my asks! thank you all for reading!

-lena

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[pinkettepoet]

In Which She’s A Metal Shrapnel (Because He Feels Her In His Heart)

Summary: Hi! I would like to request a very fluffy fic where the reader is a super famous surgeon and start working for Shield, and when Tony and her meet, she is all work, and Tony starts to flirt with her but she always decline his intentions for her past relationships and he finally convinces her and its all super fluffy? Idk, I hope you like the idea c:

Request: by the amazing Samantha, @bemyqueenofdarkness

Warnings: Tony Stark x Reader, Badassery,Fluff, Mentions of Death

Note: I absolutely adore this request and the requester! I put a little twist to this because it seemed to really blend. I really hope I did well for this! The amount of research I had to do for this was insanely amazing, it was super fun. Also, rate my title pls.

“Can you please calm down?”

“I don’t know, can I?” You growled at your fellow doctor, the empty room filling with your harsh tone. “Listen to me, I just lost a patient today, a child no less—”

“I’m so sorry.” He said, fueling your irritation further.

“Did I say you could talk? No. Do you know how painful it is to look the parents in the eye and say that their child is dead? No, you don’t. So don’t tell me to calm down when I haven’t had my cup of coffee yet, not to mention you had the nerve to tell me to send another one of my patients home.” You were a mess at the end of your little speech, your chest was heaving up and down, begging for air. Before you could say anything else, he spoke.

“You’re being emotionally attached, Y/N. Your patient is fine, she needs to go home now. The hospital is facing a triage situation, we need as much space and resources as we can have.” He spoke, gentling his tone as possible so as not to anger you further.

“She is a pregnant woman!” You argued, catching the attention of some nurses by now. “Pregnant women are always a priority. Especially when it’s a triage. Her blood levels are running pretty low and I am not sending her home until I know what the hell is wrong with her.”

“You said it yourself, she’s pregnant!” The doctor ran his hands through his shaggy hair, fully frustrated with you by now. “For all we know, it could be the baby trying to take in more blood because of the accident.”

“Four cars were involved in the accident! Do you really think everything is going to be okay? I mean, seriously—”

Your shouting match was interrupted by one of the nurses coming up to you quite slowly, afraid to even touch you. The nurse cleared his throat before saying. “Your patient — we, uh — we found something.”

“Go on,” You urged, glaring at the doctor before you accompanied the nurse back to your patient.

“So we ran a scan of her. It appears that she’s suffering from an internal bleeding — and, uh — wait, give me a second.” The nurse took a second to catch up with you, clearly intimidated by you.

“Okay, so, apparently the accident fractured her ribs which then led to it puncturing her lung.” He continued, relieved that you already reached the elevator. “One of the nurses checked up on her — said she was talking about chest pain and abnormal breathing. I think it could be—”

“Traumatic pneumothorax, you’re right.” You piped, pushing back the anxiety that nagged at you. “How severe is it?”

“It’s a large pneumothorax. I think it’s pretty serious.” He said.

You nodded, quickly registering facts and weighing options. “Prep the lab.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He said, speeding off to your opposite direction to the surgical lab.

In no time, you reached the room your patient had been resting in. You internally winced at the sight of her abnormally pale skin. “Hey, I heard you weren’t feeling well.”

With her eyes still closed, she whispered weakly, clutching her chest, “Can’t breathe. . . so tight.”

“That’s because your ribs are heavily fractured.” You began, going in straight for the points. “And that caused your punctured lung. As we speak, there is air pushing on your lung. If we don’t treat it now, it will collapse.”

“My baby. . .” She whispered, her hand lowering to her rounding stomach.

“Your baby has a 50% chance of survival.” You told her. “But we will do everything we can to save the both of you.”

Eventually, you saw her nod and that was all it took for you and your colleagues to rush her to the lab. Once the anesthesia you gave her had set in, you started the surgery. It took precision and grace to place the incision correctly. There was a lot of pressure weighing on your shoulders as you inserted the tube between her ribs and into the injured lung, so as to suck out the excess air. After hooking the tube to a device for the healing process, you felt all the weight just go away.

“Stitch her up, keep a close eye on her blood levels.” You said to the other nurses. You let out a huge breath, holding your face as you slid down across the wall.

The digital clock on the wall flashed numbers that both alarmed and relieved you. Since it was three o’clock in the morning and the situation in the hospital lightened, it was time for you to go home.

It took you an insane amount of time to change into your casual clothes, your arms were just so freaking sore and limp. You banged your head against the wall once more, feeling absolutely tired.

The sound of the door banging open didn’t faze you at all. When you looked up, annoyance filled your veins as you saw the same doctor who insisted on sending your patient home. You gave him a tired smile, patting his shoulder as you passed by him. “Good work today.”

Maybe he misunderstood your lack of enthusiasm, due to your exhaustion, as snark. He gripped your arm tightly, preventing you from moving any further.

“You know, just because you were on a couple of talk shows, it doesn’t mean you’re better than us!”

This is what you got for complimenting people. You shoved him away, ignoring his remark.

You pulled your coat tighter as you walked in the morning air. Brushes of wind bringing shivers and tremors all around you. During these times, when the light colors played across the skies, your hometown looked beautiful.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your home, moving a bit closer to the hospital made you more accessible. However, your whole body just froze at the sight of the door to your house left ajar.

On instinct, you reached for the gun in your bag. As you kept it at bay, you slowly searched for the intruder. The closest place was the kitchen, it was empty. You padded across the room and came to a halt once you saw the figures in the living room.

“What the hell?” You contained the anxiety nagging you at the back of your head. Noticing the people casually lounging on your couch.

One man, he was dressed in a dark trenchcoat and an eye patch. He spoke to you first. “Doctor Y/L/N, how would you like to work with S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“I already have a job, so no thanks.” You enunciated the words slowly, still in shock. “Now, would you please get out of my house?”

“Great. I’m Nick Fury.” The same man stood up, coming to place a hand on your shoulder. “You can start today by helping Tony Stark over here.”

That’s when you noticed the man who was bleeding out of his abdomen. It was in your nature to help others, so it didn’t take much of an effort to cave in.

Setting down your gun, “If I help your friend, will you leave?”

As you saw him nod, you made your way to the man who was claimed to be Tony Stark. He was laid out on one of your long couch with another man sitting by the end of his legs.

“I’m Bruce Banner,” He introduced himself, staring sorrowfully at Stark. “He passed out hours ago. Now I just think he’s sleeping.”

You nodded, hesitantly brushing the stray strands of hair away from his face. As you leaned in, you whispered, “Mr. Stark, how do you feel?”

Stark’s eyes drowsily opened, blinking a couple of times before his gaze landed on you. In a soft tone and sly smirk, he said, “So much — much better now that you’re here.”

“I’m going to need something,” You turned to the guy named Bruce, he was quite shocked at first but then he stood up, nodding shakily. “Bathroom is upstairs, first door to the left. There’s a first aid kit in the top cabinet.”

Once Bruce left your sight, you turned to Stark once more. Hovering over his bleeding wound, you said, “Okay, Mr. Stark, I’m going to need you to cooperate taking your shirt off.”

“Wow, okay, this is the fastest I’ve been with a woman,” Tony remarked as you drifted your fingers across his skin to lift up his shirt, him groaning softly at different intervals.

“I don’t think I associate myself with the likes of you,” You muttered, assessing his injury. “What exactly happened to you?”

“I got stabbed. But I think what you just said cut me deeper. In my heart.” Stark muttered, genuinely trying to not shiver from your hold.

“The good thing is, Mr. Stark, you’ll live. There aren’t any fatal injuries.” You told him, grabbing the first aid kit that Bruce handed you.

After you soaked the sterile dressing in the sterile water you carried, you pressed against it his skin, Stark immediately jumped up, making you retract your hand away from him in surprise. “Mr. Stark, is there anything wrong?”

He shook his head sluggishly, running his hands over his face. “No, that felt really good.”

In response, you stiffened, not seeming to know why. Nevertheless, you placed the dressing on the wound. You took great caution in every move you made. You reached for the bandage and began to wrap it around his waist. “That’s it, Mr. Stark. You’re all done. Be sure to change the dressing every 12 to 24 hours.”

“Alright, thank you. Now we best be on our way. We’ll contact you if we need you again.” Nick Fury said, already having Bruce Banner carry Stark out.

“I still have a job,” You pointed out.

“I still don’t care.”

The first time it happened, you brushed it off.

Tony Stark walked into the hospital, catching the eyes of everyone there. He walked right up to where you were standing and shoved a huge bouquet right into your face. He had a devilish smirk plastered on his face, “For the lady who stopped me from dying.”

You dropped the bouquet of roses in shock as you heard the sound of a mariachi band playing behind you. You turned to Tony whose grin widened profusely. “Will you go on a date with me?”

“No.”

You hoped that would be the end of it. Until you saw your name written in the skies, once again being asked on a date by a certain billionaire. Then, Stark was on the top of the hospital roof, screaming for you to go on a date with him with a megaphone. He even went as far as buying you a house.

About the fourth time, he took a trip to the hospital, you decided to put an end to all the madness. You pulled him quickly into a secluded room before he could do anything eccentric and loud.

“So naughty,” He muttered, looking around the room full of medical accessories. When his gaze turned to you, he smiled immediately, “Y/N, looking beautiful as always.”

“Mr. Stark—” You were interrupted by him putting his hand up to stop you.

“Please,” He waved his hand around. “It’s Tony. We are, after all, going to be colleagues in work.”

“What?” You interjected, wide-eyed. “I already told your boss I have a job.”

“First, he’s not my boss. Second, Fury is weird like that but he most definitely is honest about hiring you.” Stark corrected.

You shook your head quickly, not wanting to believe any of this. “Whatever game you’re playing, I don’t want to take part in it.”

 Raising your eyebrow as he began to speak shut him up immediately. One of the perks of being a highly intimidating woman, you thought. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten the stunt you pulled. Who the hell buys someone a house for no reason?"

“I do,” Tony whispered, looking at the floor all of a sudden.

“Have you gone mad?” You exclaimed, voice raising a few octaves higher.

Tony lifted his head, the infamous smirk already there. His gaze was focused entirely on you, the intensity shaking your mind. “Definitely.”

Once again, Stark beat you to words in your little verbal battle. “You know, I have about ten deliveries of diamond jewelry ready for you.”

“No! I don’t want that, you lunatic!”

“Well,” He shrugged. “Go on a date with me. It’s as simple as that, darling.”

“I don’t want to go on a date with you.” In all honesty, there was nothing wrong with the idea. But you knew what was holding you back, and the memories weren't pretty. 

“Why not?” He pushed, exhaustion already dawning on you.

“Because.” You countered, feeling extremely proud of this comeback for some weird reason. It was probably because of the extensive lack of conditioning in the room, or most likely the tension between you two.

“That’s a really bad reason. Which makes me wonder why you’d come up with such a thing.” He replied.

“It’s because I don’t want to go on a date with you.” Answering with a mere shrug and monotonous tone.

“How could you not want to go on a date with me?” Stark exclaimed, waving his arms around in a wide motion. “I’m charming.”

“Loud.” You laughed, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Smart.”

“Cocky.”

“Ladies man.”

“Exactly!” You raised your voice to prove a major point. “Who’s to say you won’t get bored of me and run away into the sunset with another person?”

“I’m here with you,” He gestured to the room, pulling on the collar of his shirt. “Barely coping through this heat. But I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t even know me.” You challenged.

“That’s why we’re going on a date.” He winked. “One of many, let me warn you.”

“Who’s to say our relationship will even last?” You scoffed, daring him for an answer.

“I will be with you for as long as you have me.” He placed his hands on your waist, drawing you closer. Almost instinctively, you leaned your head on his chest, listening to every rhythmic beat of his heart. “Just take a little leap of faith with me.”

“Okay,” You mumbled hesitantly, a small already forming on your lips. You burrowed your face deeper into the crook of his neck, savoring the warmth and sweet scent all around you. It felt a little like home.

“I’m so relieved you said that. There’s a little parade I put together for you when we’d come out of the hospital. Would have been embarrassing if you said no. I think I have an elephant float just cruising down the straight with your name on it.” He blurted all of a sudden, making the both of you laugh obnoxiously.

“It’s alright.” You said, pulling away from him and staring directly into his eyes. “Might even be perfect.”

(marvel tag list: @not-jk-rowling, @hydraliciousbarnes, @thewhinersoldier, @the-crime-fighting-spider, @saharzek, @hottrashformarvel, @slowly-but-shurley)

[alesio3jphln]

Should Shopify Investors Be Worried About BigCommerce's Debut?

Should Shopify Investors Be Concerned About BigCommerce's Debut? The three items to learn about Shopify's newly public competitor. Outside of perhaps Zoom Video Communications, no company was as well-positioned for the chaos of COVID-19 than Shopify (NYSE:SHOP). The company, which provides a platform for almost anyone to start an business that is e-commerce has seen a huge reacceleration of growth as people order stuff from home. But with that success comes competition. BigCommerce (NASDAQ:BIGC) has been around far longer than the pandemic, but made a decision to hold its initial offering that is public or IPO, earlier this month. The organization is often named as you of Shopify's biggest pure-play competitors. Is this something investors need certainly to be concerned about? As a person who counts Shopify as their top holding -- it makes up over 17% of my real-life portfolio -- this is a question that is vitally important. Here's what i came across after digging. Image source: Getty Images. After digging through the business's prospectus, one thing stood out above all else: BigCommerce is a bit of a misnomer. Not only is the company much smaller than Shopify, however the difference is orders of magnitude. Here are just a ways that are few gauge the difference. We're able to start with the quantity of merchants (read: businesses) using these two platforms. Chart by author. Data source: SEC filings, Shopify IR. While both companies likely have larger numbers at this time (they're not updated continually), Shopify are at least serving 15 times more clients than BigCommerce. However the comparisons can go deeper. As an example, Shopify has begun relying on sales-based revenue for a growing percentage of cash to arrive. These are lower-margin, variable sales that aren't as coveted as subscriptions, which bring in annual recurring revenue (ARR) in other words. As a result of that, some could argue that Shopify's trailing sales -- that are also over 15 times more than BigCommerce's -- isn't a proxy that is great how it is performing relative to its rival. But even if we have a look at ARR alone, Shopify is still head-and-shoulders above BigCommerce. Chart by author. Data source: SEC filings, Shopify IR. And you also'd be 100% correct. In fact, it can sometimes be a lot more advantageous to purchase the smaller company depriving them of share of the market than the behemoth trying to defend it. To deal with this matter, it's vital to check out each company's moat, or sustainable competitive advantages. Companies like this often have one moat that is key high switching costs. When a little or medium-sized business sets up shop online, its owners desire to spend very little time as you are able to on digital logistics, so when much time as you possibly can fulfilling their particular individual missions.

Much like it is an inconvenience for you yourself to switch banks -- even though it costs no money -- the headaches alone can prevent a merchant from leaving these platforms. One key metric BigCommerce published in its prospectus was its net revenue retention rate (NRR) for larger customers, which stood at 106% at the end of 2019. This means, in the whole, merchants are not only sticking with BigCommerce (NRR of 100%), but they are paying more each year. The greater deeply integrated BigCommerce's platform becomes, the harder it is to switch away. Shopify does not publish its NRR. But it does publish a chart that appears like this annually. Chart source: Shopify SEC filings. While we can not understand the numbers that are exact sure, it is clear that NRR is at least 100%, and likely significantly more. That is especially true for the 2018 cohort of businesses. The line that is bottom Neither company has a clear upper hand in terms of high switching costs. Shopify, however, has other advantages that BigCommerce would have a really time that is difficult. The first comes via each company's App Store. This is certainly a spot where third-party app developers create custom tools that merchants can purchase. Shopify and BigCommerce pay nothing to develop the tools, and get a cut of every sale. Currently, BigCommerce has about 600 apps that are such Shopify has over 4,600. That gap is not likely to narrow: Because of network effects, app developers have much more incentive to create apps on Shopify's platform than BigCommerce's -- you can find 15 times more merchants to offer to! And all of this ignores what's becoming the even bigger elephant in the room: Shopify is building out a fulfillment network that gives merchants an alternative solution that at the least stands a chance of matching Amazon. BigCommerce has no such initiative. That alone is a significant advantage that is competitive. Shopify has plenty of cash and is free-cash-flow positive, meaning it can continue building with this head start. BigCommerce, on the other hand, has lost over $40 million within the past year in free cash flow. It cannot afford such a buildout. If you fail to tell, I'm not too concerned about BigCommerce after getting to be able to dive through the business's financials. It comes down as a cherry at the top that Shopify is run by its founder, Tobi Lutke. I've long considered him to be one of the most CEOs that are mission-driven can invest alongside within the markets today. BigCommerce's founding team, having said that, has moved on. Add all of it together, and I also am not likely to lose sleep over BigCommerce. The business and stock itself may very well carry on to gains that are great but I do not think they'll certainly be at the cost of Shopify.

2 Growth in online shoppers

Verify project management capacities

24/7 priority support, and ecommerce’s largest ecosystem of Partners and apps

Customer accounts

Granted, you are able to still edit it pretty easily (there’s an text that is easy-to-use), but finding this in the 1st place did take me a while. Once you’re done adjusting the settings and ensuring that your store that is e-commerce is for the entire world to see, just go the the dashboard and then click the "Launch Store" button. Still, before your visitors have the ability to buy anything, you’re going to possess to select your plan and upgrade to a totally functional account (not the free trial offer). You started would be the first one - Standard - $29.95 / month as I said before, the best plan to get. But you can hook it as much as a domain that is normal well. Is Bigcommerce the tool that is right launch your on line store with? Bigcommerce offers you awesome management tools. This consists of product management, order management, analytics, reports, all that stuff. In short, with regards to working together with your store day by day, Bigcommerce is excellent. There’s a nice marketing module with AdWords integration, coupons and much more. This enables you to definitely handle your store’s marketing partly on autopilot. Bigcommerce is quite cheap for the amount of stuff it gives plus the fact that it puts no limits on what many products you can have in your database or just how many customers it is possible to serve. There’s 24/7 support. And so they even allow you to with things like SEO and other somewhat external traits of one's online store. You can find apps. It is possible to integrate your store with platforms such as Facebook, MailChimp, QuickBooks, eBay, and a lot more. You can use multiple currencies during the time that is same. The themes will get expensive if you want something premium. The price tags go as high as $250 a theme (luckily, it’s just a one-time investment). The homepage isn’t that easily adjustable. For whatever reason, the written text content regarding the homepage is treated as a banner. The homepage carousel is just a functionality that is somewhat helpful. It requires a lot of learning from your errors to have it looking right. The look adjustment doesn’t always work as predicted. I’ve had my Chrome freeze a couple of times when working with my store design. Again, fortunately you only have to deal with your design setup once. There’s a 1.5% transaction fee if you’re regarding the cheapest $29.95 / month plan. The plan that is cheapest is okay - $29.95 / month. But you will find additional costs. The aforementioned 1.5% transaction fee, and the price of reasonably limited design if you prefer one (there are free ones available as well). The store management features are really simple to use in addition they work great. Handling the initial setup of this store will require some learning from your errors, though. I’m giving it 4.5/5 purely because you’re going to be working together with the store management features a complete lot more often than with the design/setup related things. There’s 24/7 support via phone, live chat and email. Plus, additionally, there are really nice learning guides (including videos). In a sentence, Bigcommerce offers anything you could need as an store owner that is e-commerce. Whether you just want the basic principles, or you need to get really in depth into the store’s options, Bigcommerce has got you covered! Disclaimer: we have been a professional review site that occasionally receive compensation from the companies whose products we review. We tested and reviewed the services reviewed here. We are independently owned and also the opinions expressed here are our very own.

Warning: These 9 Errors Will Destroy Your BigCommerce

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If you’re looking for a reliable e-commerce software solution, then take a few momemts to learn this BigCommerce review to get the entire details. 8. Estimated 28% year-over-year growth: here is the average growth rate of BigCommerce users based on research they conducted through Ipsos. Looking for the online store that is right builder? BigCommerce is designed and powerful to develop together with your business. Sign up here for a 15-day trial that is free. Discover how easy it really is to launch your e-commerce venture. Video above: BigCommerce currently powers over 60,000 sites. The business has multiple programs dedicated to helping customers succeed, including BigCommerce University and an annual conference. There are numerous third-party apps on the market built to integrate with BigCommerce. You can find significantly more than 200 add-ons regarding the BigCommerce app section. With BigCommerce as your online store’s checkout app, customers could have the freedom of preference when it comes to payment options. This software that is e-commerce with as much as 38 payment gateways. It’s also possible to just accept payments that are in-store Square at your brick-and-motor store’s point of sale terminal. Both online and in-store payments will be automatically synced in the cloud, saving you time and effort while streamlining your payment processes. In addition, BigCommerce checkout offers support for bank card payments. This platform is PCI DSS compliant and has a 256-bit SSL encryption. The SSL certificate is distributed to the conventional plan while higher packages provide dedicated encryption for your entire store that is online. Whether you’re a tech-savvy web design service or an individual who lacks the relevant skills to write code for your web store, BigCommerce offers suitable design features for everybody. Unskilled online merchants don’t have to work on any coding when designing their web stores since there are a huge selection of pre-built templates to select from. You are able to create your store that is online in utilising the drag-and-drop tool. These templates are responsive and certainly will permit you to design stunning storefronts that engage shoppers on any device. The best part is that the set-up wizard will reveal previews of your chosen template on PC or smartphone, assisting you to visualize your storefront and make tweaks and changes as required. If you’re a skilled web designer or thinking about hiring an expert to custom-build your on line store, BigCommerce offers a HTML editor that is full. It also offers full access to raw CSS files for those who might like to do much more in-depth custom layout edits. The WYSIWYG editor clearly shows how your text will look, including font type, color and size. Similar to many top shopping that is e-commerce, BigCommerce offers several methods to market your internet store.

[haroldssfedora]

I Love You (Support: A Harry Styles Imagine Part 3)

I’m so sorry for the long wait! I suck at endings so I had a really hard time writing this. I couldn’t sleep knowing I was so close to finishing it, so tada! Here’s part 3!

Thank you so much to everyone who enjoyed my stories. I really do appreciate all the love and messages. Love you all!

If you haven’t read Parts 1 and 2, here they are!

Support 

Pity

~~

It finally the day of the fashion show. To say that I was nervous was an understatement. People were running around backstage trying to make everything run as smoothly as it can. Models were in their dressing rooms either getting their hair or makeup done, or they’re already trying on the gowns to be flaunted that day. I, on the other hand, am fixing my models so that the dress comes out like how I pictured it.

Cara Delevingne was telling me how she felt wearing my creation. She told me how powerful and fierce she felt wearing the yellow and red suit-dress that I designed for my “work” collection. I can never get used to being complimented by someone famous people. To heck, Tyra Banks came by and patted me on the back saying how well I did when she looked around backstage. I was reliving the moment when I heard someone call me.

“Y/N!” A voice said. I almost didn’t hear it because of the commotion but luckily I did. It was my mum and dad who flew in just to watch and support me today.

“I’m so happy for you baby girl!” My dad said, hugging me. While my mum was hugging me, I heard my name being called once more. This time, it was Gemma. Anne, Robin and Michal were also there. I smiled at them and summoned them to where we were.

“Y/N dear!” Anne said, hugging me. I greeted them and let them greet my parents. Seeing everyone laughing and getting along made me think of him.

Him.

Harry and I were always thankful that our families got along. He always told me that he already felt like part of the family when he met my parents. I also felt the same love when I met his. It was too good to be true.

I sighed and thought about him being here beside me, supporting me. But no… he decided that his career and his dreams were more important than mine. Heck, he’s not even here. I shook my thoughts of him. He doesn't deserve me thinking about him.

** A week ago **

“Are you sure you’ll be ok driving alone? I mean, Michal and I can go with you to London then come back. It’s not that far you know?” Gemma insisted for the nth time. I just laughed and continues putting my newly bought things, which I had to buy since I left my things in London while I stayed with the Styles-Twist family in Cheshire.

“I’ll be fine Gem. I drove my way here. I can drive myself  back.” I said, putting the last of my things that I bought.

I “accidentally” bought quite a few too many cute sundresses and a few shirts for the coming season. She smiled and gave me a hug. Michal said his goodbye and left Gemma and I alone.  

“You and Harry haven't talked in the last few days. Are you guys still not talking to each other?” She asked. I sighed and closed the car door.

“We broke up, Gem. There’s no reason for us to talk to each other now.”

“But.. you’re still my best friend right? You’ll still talk to us?” Gemma asked. I laughed a little and held her hand. “ I mean, you’re not closing the doors on any scenario of Harry asking you to get back together, right? There’s still tahg ray of hope?”

“Of course you’re still my best friend. And your family means a whole lot for me to just cut contact.” I gave her one last hug when I saw Robin accompanying Anne down the few steps going out, I met them halfway.

“Anne! You shouldn’t have went out. I was about to go in and say my farewell.” I said, helping Robin assist Anne.

Anne was fine. She got out of the hospital a few days after she was confined. No damages were seen. Everyone was just cautious when we’re with Anne.

“Dear, you’re the one leaving. I should at least say my goodbye. Hopefully not forever.” Anne said. She was so sweet and thoughtful.

“It’s not. I promise! I’ll see you guys during the fashion show. I already made the arrangements so that you can sit beside mum and dad.”

“Oh they’re flying in?” Anne asked. “That’s nice. Haven’t talked to your mom in a while. It’ll be nice to catch up.”

“Yeah they are.” I answered.

“You never answered my question.” Gemma intervened.

“What question?” I asked.

“About you and Harry. There’s still that chance of you guys getting back together right?”

“We’ll see what happens.” I answered.

“Enough with that talk. If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen. You better get going now dear. It’ll be a long drive to London. Take care, ok? Call me when you get home.” Anne said with a last hug.

As I was about to ride the car, I saw a silhouette, a silhouette that I knew very well. It was Harry. He stepped closer to the window which made me see his face. If it weren’t dark, I could’ve sworn that he was crying. I just gave him a small smile and entered the car, not looking back.

**

The fashion show was a complete success. The entire team was now on their way to the after party. I told everyone that I’ll just follow since I had to fix my things from my dressing room.

As soon as I get to my designated room, I saw a tall figure by the mirror. It was admiring the pictures that were pasted on the mirror. There were three pictures - a picture of me with my family, me with my friends, and me and Harry. The last picture was a polaroid picture of when we went to Universal Studios Florida. We were dressed in our Harry Potter robes holding a wand in one hand and a mug of Butterbeer in the other. It had the words “I met my Harry Potter.” on the bottom. It was also the day we had our first kiss.

I was taken back to reality when I heard him call my name. I looked at him and saw his dimpled smile. I haven't seen that smile in ages.

“Hey.” He said. I couldn't stop myself from smiling.

“Hi.” I said, shying away from him. He coughed a little to get my attention once more.

“These are- um, these are for you.” He said. I was too focused on his presence that I failed to notice the bouquet of roses with him.

During our first date, he asked me what type of flowers I favored the most. Ever since I answered roses, he made sure I got the freshest and most elegant bouquets in the entire duration of our relationship. It made me feel like he really paid attention to the smallest details about me.

“I- um, I know how much you love roses. So I- um, I brought you some. And it’s- it’s red. I know red roses are-” I cut him off.

He’s nervous.

“Thank you. Not only for the rose… but for coming in general.” I said, taking a sniff off the elegant red roses. He finally took a long breath and started talking again.

“Look, I’m so sorry, love. I really am. I now know how big of a jerk I was. I was the shittiest boyfriend alive. But seeing you on the runway during the end… it made me feel something. It made me feel proud. So proud of you love. And I want to feel that more often. I’ll be here, supporting you till you decide to retire. I’ll watch each and every fashion week that you’ll be in. I’ll be there with a huge banner that says ‘that’s my girl right there!’ I’ll be the loudest person present.” His small rant made me laugh for the first time in months.

“It has been months since we broke up. It took me losing you to realize that you’re it for me. I hope you see that as well because I can’t last another day without you. I love you baby. I will forever love you.” Tears started streaming down his face. For a second, I saw the Harry that loved me to death - the Harry that made me fall in love with him.

“I can’t be at the bottom of your priorities again Harry. I need to know that I’m important as well.”

“You are baby. Oh, my God you are the most important woman to me right now. Mum and Gem are only after you.” I smiled at his remark.

“I love you… so much.” I said, putting my hands on both sides of his face. He didn't waste time. He went for it and kissed me.

Oh how I missed his lips.

“I love you too baby… so much. I’ll always be here, supporting you, forever.”

[niedolia]

stuff to do tonight before i forget - katy’s banner ahhhhh - answer the next batch of russ questions - message back my partner for the reverse bang woops - work on mmbtr - blankly stare at my screen til i remember the other thing ????

i have viktor’s memory i’m not gonna deceive you all. i can barely what i’ve done for the day, let alone remember a to-do list lmao. gonna blame the depression.

i’m just complaining again and its just me & i don’t want anyone to stop on my account but

there was a conversation on the discord chat a few days ago on drug use and i finally remembered it. and usually i’m p chill bc this sort of stuff is everywhere, and i’m so good at ignoring things. but it just kinda hit me again today how much i .... ??? i don’t have the right word. it upsets me. on some level. once i face it. if i wasn’t so good at avoiding my emotions i’d probably label it as a tw at this point, it’s just gotten worse as i’ve gotten older. even the mention of it can fuck me up so bad. but that’s on me; i’m not gonna rain on anyones parade.

and i really !!! try not to be a downer. and i never comment. and i do so well in staying out of it.

but that stuff has messed up my life so badly, and i’m not even a user. so i kinda just sit there trying to ignore all the shit i’ve seen from it. how my brother had a friend in high school and they would get high together, and he was so nice, and he tried really hard and quit, and he was about to fulfull his dream w working in charity, but then he stopped breathing in his sleep before he could bc of complications after his heavy use. bc it catches up w you sooner or later and he was caught sooner, and he was so nice. he wanted to live, he was in his early 20s.

or how my oldest brother got hooked after he was married and starting a family. and he would smoke around his kids. cole has asthma; idk much about it but it doesn’t run on either side of his family & all of us wonder. i lived with them for a while when i was homeless; i heard every fight they had for every cigarette burn he put in his little daughter’s blanket. and now they’re divorced and she won’t let him see his kids until he’s clean and he hasn’t seen them in 2 years bc drugs are his priority. and how upset my mom gets bc she doesn’t feel right being a grandmother unless he gets to be a father; she really wants to be a grandmother. and now he’s lost his job bc he was caught high on the job; how can we be surprised?

and idk, i miss my brother bc he’s not like when he was younger.

and just, i try not to think about it. whenever my bro offers me a hit & here. but i can’t imagine anyone blaming me if after a while i have to say how upset it makes me.

[brajeshupadhyay]

Desmond, an 11-year MLB veteran, has played the past three seasons with the Rockies after signing a five-year, $70 million contract. “I’m immensely grateful for my career, and for all people who influenced it,” he said. “But when I reflect on it, I find myself seeing those same boxes. The golden rules of baseball — don’t have fun, don’t pimp home runs, don’t play with character. Those are white rules. Don’t do anything fancy. Take it down a notch. Keep it all in the box.” He’s overheard racist, homophobic and sexist jokes in clubhouses. There are very few Black managers, he said, and a low percentage of players are Black. It’s a problem in the league that Desmond said he’s seen no concerted effort to fix. By opting out, Desmond forgoes his salary for the season because he’s not considered a “high-risk” player, MLB.com’s Thomas Harding reported. The Rockies haven’t publicly commented on Desmond’s decision. CNN has reached out to the team and MLB for comment and is waiting to hear back. Desmond will still spend the season on a baseball field — just a Little League diamond in Sarasota, Florida, where he grew up. He’ll work to get the town’s youth baseball league “back on track,” he said. “With a pregnant wife and four young children who have lots of questions about what’s going on in the world, home is where I need to be right now,” he said. “Home for my wife, Chelsey. Home to help. Home to guide. Home to answer my older three boys’ questions about Coronavirus and Civil Rights and life. Home to be their Dad.” Other players opt out of MLB season Major League Baseball’s rescheduled season will resume on July 23 or 24, league commissioner Rob Manfred said last week. The 2020 regular season never started because of the pandemic, and spring training was cut short. Now, players are expected to report for training this week, on July 1. But a few players have opted out of the season, citing health concerns. Washington Nationals infielder Ryan Zimmerman and pitcher Joe Ross will not play, the team confirmed on Monday. Neither will Arizona Diamondbacks right-handed pitcher Mike Leake, according to a statement from his agent. Zimmerman and Leake both said family factored into their decisions. Read Desmond’s statement in full: “A few weeks ago, I told the social media world a little bit about me that I never talk about. I started it by saying why that was: I don’t like sadness and anger. I’d found an even keel allowed me to move through my days with more ease than emotion did. So, I kept it inside. But that comes at an internal cost, and I could no longer keep a lid on what I was feeling. The image of officer Derek Chauvin’s knee on the neck of George Floyd, the gruesome murder of a Black man in the street at the hands of a police officer, broke my coping mechanism. Suppressing my emotions became impossible. In the days since I began sharing my thoughts and experiences as a biracial man in America, I’ve received many requests to elaborate. But, it’s hard to know where to begin. And, in truth, there’s a lot on my mind. Here’s some of it. Recently, I took a drive to the Little League fields I was basically raised on here in Sarasota. They’re not in great shape. They look run down. Neglected. When I saw a Cal Ripken Little League schedule tacked on a bulletin board, I walked over to check it out, and it was from 2015. The only thing shiny and new, to my eye, was a USSSA banner. Travel ball. Showcases. So, not so much baseball for all anymore… as much as baseball for all who can afford it. I walked around those fields, deserted at the time, and my mind raced. I stopped at a memorial for a man named Dick Lee; Coast Federal Head Coach and manager, Sarasota Little League, 1973-1985. There was a quote from him on the plaque: ‘Many men have cherished some of their greatest moments in life while stopping and taking time to reflect back on the young men they have helped develop, from childhood into manhood, with the ability to carry on in life. In no other activity has man been able to see this growth better than he has in the heart and character of this nation. ‘To see our youth grow and develop in the knowledge and skills to play baseball is a reward that only one who has been involved with would know. Baseball not only develops the physical skills of our youth, but develops a person with a knowledge of fair play while always stressing a desire to win. ‘That great moment comes when you look at the final product and realize the job done. There’s nothing more satisfying when watching these young men than hearing that familiar voice call out “Hi, coach!” transcending that special spirit of pride.’ I know it sounds simple to say, as a Major League Baseball player, that these fields were important in shaping my life. But I don’t mean my career. I read Dick Lee’s words, and I stood there and I thought about when I was 10, and my stepfather dropped me off for a baseball tryout. He never came back to get me. Later, as I sobbed alone at the top of the bleachers, a kind stranger offered me a chance to make a phone call to alert my mom. I thought about the moment, not too long after that, when my coach, John Howard, seeing I was upset about an out or something, wrapped me in an embrace so strong that I can still remember how his arms felt around me. How it felt to be hugged like that; embraced by a man who cared about the way I was feeling. Then, another memory hit me: my high school teammates chanting ‘White Power!’ before games. We would say the Lord’s prayer and put our hands in the middle so all the white kids could yell it. Two Black kids on the whole team sitting in a stunned silence the white players didn’t seem to notice. I started to walk the fields a bit, and that’s when I thought of Antwuan. These fields are where I learned a game that I’ve played 1,478 times at the Major League level. It started when I was 10, 11, 12 years old — exactly how old Antwuan was (12) when I met him at the Nationals Youth Baseball Academy in D.C. He couldn’t read. He could barely say his ABCs. One morning, when his mom was shuffling Antwuan and his siblings off to their aunt’s house at 4 a.m. so she could get to work, they opened their door to a man stabbed to death on the ground. So, no sleep, traumatized by murder literally outside their door, eating who knows what for lunch, they head off to school. And they’re expected to perform in a classroom? Meanwhile, my kids fly all over the country watching their dad play. They attend private schools, and get extra curriculum from learning centers. They have safe places to learn, grow, develop. But… the only thing dividing us from Antwuan is money. It just doesn’t make any sense. Why isn’t society’s No. 1 priority giving all kids the best education possible? If we seriously want to see change, isn’t education where it all starts? Give all kids a safe place to go for eight hours a day. Where their teachers or coaches are happy to see them. Where they feel supported and loved. I went back to those Little League fields because I wanted to figure out why they were thriving the way I remembered. What I came away with was more confusion. I had the most heartbreak and the most fulfillment right there on those fields — in the same exact place. I felt the hurt of racism, the loneliness of abandonment, and so many other emotions. But I also felt the triumph of success. The love of others. The support of a group of men pulling for each other and picking one another up as a team. I got to experience that because it was a place where baseball could be played by any kid who wanted. It was there, it was affordable, and it was staffed by people who cared. But if we don’t have these parks, academies, teachers, coaches, religious institutions — if we don’t have communities investing in people’s lives — what happens to the kids who are just heartbroken and never get that moment of fulfillment? If what Dick Lee knew to be true remains so — that baseball is about passing on what we’ve learned to those who come after us in hopes of bettering the future for others — then it seems to me that America’s pastime is failing to do what it could, just like the country it entertains. Think about it: right now in baseball we’ve got a labor war. We’ve got rampant individualism on the field. In clubhouses we’ve got racist, sexist, homophobic jokes or flat-out problems. We’ve got cheating. We’ve got a minority issue from the top down. One African American GM. Two African American managers. Less than 8% Black players. No Black majority team owners. Perhaps most disheartening of all is a puzzling lack of focus on understanding how to change those numbers. A lack of focus on making baseball accessible and possible for all kids, not just those who are privileged enough to afford it. If baseball is America’s pastime, maybe it’s never been a more fitting one than now. Antwuan was 12 years old when he started going to the Nationals Youth Baseball Academy — because that’s when it started existing in his universe as a resource. We got him a tutor, he got into other programs, and he learned to read. He was on the right track. He died when he was 18, shot 31 times in D.C. A 16-year-old kid was just arrested for his murder. It’s almost safe to say that the best years of his life came from that Academy… and yet the staff running it have to beg people to invest money and time. How can that be? Why isn’t there an academy like that in every single community? Why does Major League Baseball have to have a specific youth baseball affiliate with RBI? Why can’t we support teaching the game to all kids — but especially those in underprivileged communities? Why aren’t accessible, affordable youth sports viewed as an essential opportunity to affect kids’ development, as opposed to money-making propositions and recruiting chances? It’s hard to wrap your head around it. I won’t tell you that I look around at the world today — baseball or otherwise — and feel like I have the answers. I don’t. I’m not a perfect person. I kept my emotions inside for so long because it seemed easier to numb myself than to embrace the why behind my feelings. Doesn’t it seem easier to just block it out when you walk down the street and see women clutch their purse at the sight of you? To push it behind you when you find out your grade school had to hold a meeting for all the students to let them know you and your sister — two Black kids — were about to enroll? To slough it off when someone makes a racist joke, or suggests you must be an athlete because how else could you have such a nice house? It forced me into a box. And, in a lot of ways, I feel like everything in my life has been about boxes. I remember, as a biracial kid, I dreaded filling out paperwork. I feared those boxes: white, Black, other. The biracial seat is a completely unique experience, and there are so many times you feel like you belong everywhere and nowhere at once. I knew I wasn’t walking around with the privilege of having white skin, but being raised by a white mother (an incredible mother), I never fully felt immersed in Black culture. I almost always checked Black. Because I felt the prejudices. That’s what being Black meant to me: do you feel the hurt? Do you experience racism? Do you feel like you’re at a slight disadvantage? Even in baseball. I’m immensely grateful for my career, and for all people who influenced it. But when I reflect on it, I find myself seeing those same boxes. The golden rules of baseball — don’t have fun, don’t pimp home runs, don’t play with character. Those are white rules. Don’t do anything fancy. Take it down a notch. Keep it all in the box. It’s no coincidence that some of my best years came when I played under Davey Johnson, whose No. 1 line to me was: ‘Desi, go out there and express yourself.’ If, in other years, I’d just allowed myself to be who I was — to play free and the way I was born to play, would I have been better? If we didn’t force Black Americans into white America’s box, think of how much we could thrive. The COVID-19 pandemic has made this baseball season one that is a risk I am not comfortable taking. But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving baseball behind for the year. I’ll be right here, at my old Little League, and I’m working with everyone involved to make sure we get Sarasota Youth Baseball back on track. It’s what I can do, in the scheme of so much. So, I am. With a pregnant wife and four young children who have lots of questions about what’s going on in the world, home is where I need to be right now. Home for my wife, Chelsey. Home to help. Home to guide. Home to answer my older three boys’ questions about Coronavirus and Civil Rights and life. Home to be their Dad. Ian Desmond” The post Ian Desmond won’t play in the upcoming MLB season, citing racism and coronavirus concerns appeared first on Sansaar Times.

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