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elsie505 · 1 year

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Chapter three:

Ella was wearing diapers. Peter wasn’t exactly sure how he discovered this information- well, actually, he was fully aware of how he found this information out.

One Tuesday afternoon, after Ella and Peter had both finished school early and decided to skip their daily trip to the library, they came home and set up their study station at the dining room table. They talked with Natasha and Bucky, the former helping Peter with a particularly difficult equation while the latter teased Ella for writing her notes with a pink gel pen, and eventually, they got most of their homework done.

When Ella was finished with her essay, she abandoned her workstation to join Bucky on the couch, snuggling up in his lap as they watched a documentary about NASA on the big screen. Peter was besotted with them, watching as they acted like father and daughter. Their love for each other bleeding into the room, making it feel like a thousand Christmas scented candles were lit. Natasha stood behind the kitchen island, up to the elbows in flour and baking powder. It was like a scene from a Holiday Movie.

Bucky and Ella’s conversation was a quiet lul, talking about the space documentary with interest, and then Bucky lifted the back of Ella’s hoodie up, pulling her black leggings away from her to look down the back of them. Peter startled a little, confused and angry, and then he noticed the shape of her ass was a little off and there was white fabric peeking from the top of her pants.

“Do you need changed?” Peter’s heightened hearing picked up, Bucky asking the question very quietly to the young girl.

Peter’s mouth slackened as he put the clues together and Ella ever so slightly nodded. Bucky stood up with her, hitching her onto his hip and then calling loudly, “Okay, honey, we’ll get you a colouring book,”

And they disappeared up the grand staircase.

They returned fifteen minutes later not looking much different. Bucky placed her on the carpet in front of the coffee table and dropped a colouring book and pot filled with pencils between her ready hands. Ella shook clenched fists excitedly and immediately got to work shading a drawing of a monkey.

Bucky passed him on the way to the kitchen, ruffling his hair with a metallic hand and joining his wife at her cooking station. They immediately fell into banter about Bucky never helping her with her cooking but Peter was too zoned out to listen.

He smelt for anything different in the air, looking for the clean smell of baby wipes or talcum powder but Natasha was baking banana bread, another vegan recipe she’d found, and that was the only thing he could smell.

“You okay, Honey?” Natasha called, encased in Bucky’s arms as he leaned against the counter around her in a comforting way.

Peter couldn’t decide for a moment, and Nat and Bucky frowned in concern. “Yeah, yeah, just forgot about something I had to do for one of my Professors,”

He quickly gathered his things and fled from the room, locking himself in his bedroom to think about what he’d seen.

The following few days, Peter couldn’t get the new information off his mind. He watched the way his new acting parents interacted with Ella. The way Bucky would carry her a lot and she’d often fall asleep against his shoulder whilst he was cooking or doing laundry. The way Natasha would cuddle her like a baby, rocking her back and forth in her lap or sitting her on the kitchen counter while she made her a snack.

They’d play together like a family, listening to her baby talk to the chickens during feeding time. Ella acted like a child religiously. She was mature while they attended school or were out in public together, but acted like a baby when alone. It was like she crossed the threshold of the front door and her brain progressed backwards. She’d manage her homework and general adult tasks easily, but her voice was softer and slurred, sort of like babbling.

Peter couldn’t figure out how he’d never realised until now. She age regressed at least ten years every time she walked through her own front door.

The following week, when Natasha and Ella were in the gym, practising ballet like they did every Saturday morning, the thought of Ella’s diapers wouldn’t get off of Peter’s mind.

“What’s the matter, Kid?” Bucky asked from his spot along from him at the breakfast bar. Bucky had made them pancakes with honey and banana, complaining that he needed something not-vegan or he’d start getting moody.

Peter pulled his pancake apart with his fingers. “Nothin,’” he mumbled.

“Hey,” Bucky said softly, nudging the younger boy softly with his shoulder. “You can talk to me, you know? ‘M not gonna yell at you for being in a bad mood.”

Peter remained silent, trying to think of a lie to excuse his non social behaviour.

“Look, I get it, okay? You’ve been quiet for a couple days now, something’s obviously bothering you enough to upset you.” Bucky continued, “If you don’t wanna talk to me, at least talk to Nat, or Ella, somebody. It’s not good for you, letting shit bottle up inside of you, okay?”

Bucky, finished with his plate, began clearing the breakfast bar of all the condiments and utensils, getting started on the dishes.

Peter looked up, “Why does Ella wear diapers?”

Bucky’s movements ceased and he completely stopped what he was doing. Peter stuttered, regretting his confrontational decision immediately and attempting to cover it up with an apology.

“I- I’m- I’m sorry, I had no right-” he said, feeling his stomach drop and his heart begin to beat out of his chest.

Bucky put down the plate he’d stopped washing. “Peter.” He said flatly, successfully pausing the boy’s mumbling. “It’s okay, you were going to find out eventually. Just calm down,”

Peter remained silent, staring at the back of Bucky’s head as the man watched out of the window above the kitchen sink. Eventually, Bucky turned to look at him, his expression neutral and civilised, unlike Peter’s panicked frown.

“You’re not in any trouble, I promise you. And please don’t run, I’m just going to get Natasha, she’s far better at having these conversations than I am, okay?” He said, holding a flat palm out as if to calm a feral animal.

He was only gone a few seconds, and yet, in that time Peter’s mind had managed to eat itself from the inside out.

“Hey, Honey,” Natasha said, gliding up to him and wrapping her arms around him. Peter barely reciprocated the hug, but Natasha was already pulling back to look at his face. “Why don’t we go upstairs? You’re a little more comfortable up there, aren’t you?”

Peter nodded and Natasha led him up the staircase slowly, they reached Peter’s room and he settled down on the bed, the sheets ruffled and wrinkled from where he forgot to make it an hour ago.

“Talk to me,” Nat said, sitting beside him and taking his hand in hers.

Peter watched as Bucky pushed the door to, not completely closed but enough to block out the rest of the house. “I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t, it was an accident. I was sticking my nose somewhere it doesn’t belong,”

“Hey, hey,” Bucky interrupted. “Don’t talk about yourself that way. You belong here, our secrets are your secrets if you want them to be.”

Natasha nodded and dipped her head to look Peter in the eye, “Go ahead, honey,”

Bucky crouched on the floor, sitting on the backs of his heels like he did when tucking Peter in. Peter watched as Bucky’s hand rubbed over the boy’s knee, the warmth from his flesh hand radiating through Peter’s pyjama pants.

“Why does Ella wear diapers?” He said, his voice shaky and wavering significantly.

The silence stretched on for a few seconds, and Peter thought he was for sure getting kicked out. Natasha was the first to speak, her voice full and comforting. “Ella wears diapers because she’s a little.”

“What’s a little?” Peter sniffed, wiping his face with his sleeve.

“Do you know what age regression is, Kid?” Bucky asked, still rubbing his knee.

Peter nodded. “Kinda,”

“Okay, well, Ella had a rough childhood. She uses age regression as a coping mechanism for that. She does childish activities and talks like a baby sometimes, it makes her happy.” Natasha went on to say, “She wears diapers because sometimes she gets a little too into it and ends up wetting herself like a baby would. She doesn’t have the same kind of control over her bladder as we do,”

Peter ‘ahh’ed in realisation, nodding along with their words. “Is Ella okay with me knowing this? ‘Cause I really don’t wanna-”

“Ella is fine,” Bucky said quickly, cutting him off “Ella would prefer if you know everything, really,”

Bucky’s voice cut short when he noticed the scowling look on his Wife’s face. Peter caught the quick exchange, “‘Everything?’ There’s more?”

Nat suppressed a sigh at her Husband’s evident ability to sit his foot in his own mouth. “Yes, Peter, but this is where the PG part ends,”

Peter’s face flushed pink, “Okay,”

“Are you okay with us continuing or would you like to stop talking about it?” Bucky asked, his expression soft and comforting.

Peter thought about it a moment, worried whatever they were going to tell him would change his opinion of them as a happy family. “No, I wanna know,” he said. If Ella wanted him to know, it must be important for him to know.

Natasha and Bucky exchanged another look before they got up and moved towards the door. Natasha held out a hand for Peter and he took it, letting her lead him from the room.

They walked the distance between his and Ella’s room before entering it. This was the moment Peter realised how much a family he’s living with could really keep from him.

Ella’s room was painted a similar colour to Peter’s, only it retained a pink accent colour that flushed the room. Her bed was a canopy, similar to Peter’s black one, but hers was closed in by sheer pink drapes, creating a Princess look.

The room was decorated with flowers and stuffed animals, like a child’s room. A pale pink fluffy rug in the centre of the room was littered with toys and colouring books, there was a smaller than usual set of table and chairs with an assembled tea party, the cups and saucers dried but used. Everything that could be, was pink. Peter had never dreamed that Ella’s room was so childish.

Peter didn’t react, and so his parents took him across the hall, to their room.

Bucky and Natasha’s bedroom was bigger than the rest of the rooms in the house. Their bed was twice that of a king size, the mattress surrounded by a thick plush edge, almost like a bench wrapping around it. On either side of the ginormous bed was a nightstand decorated with lamps and ornaments. The windows were floor to ceiling, like they were in the whole house, only they had dark brown curtains draped around them.

The walls were a dark brown, grey colour and the floor was dark wood. A cluster of couches and chairs nestled in the far corner beside the entrance to a walk-in closet and the door for the bathroom.

Peter mindlessly gazed at the size of the bed as he followed Natasha towards the closet. In there was just as beautiful as the bedroom itself, but Peter has little time to appreciate it for his acting Mother was pulling open a series of drawers.

The drawers rolled out, one on top of the other to reveal countless stored sex toys. Vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, strap-ons, cock rings, nipple clamps, flesh lights, bondage instruments, things Peter had never even seen or heard of before. The next few drawers were filled with different kinds of lube, blindfolds, etc.

And then it got a little strange. Natasha opened a drawer containing a series of pacifiers and sippy cups. When she opened it further, there were adult sized baby grows and a breast pump. To say Peter was confused would be an understatement.

“Ella uses sex to distract herself from the real world. Not only does she regress, she also uses subspace as an out.” Natasha explained, “Bucky and I provide that for her.”

Peter’s face was crimson with embarrassment but he was too curious to care. “What’s subspace?” He asked gently.

“It’s a mind space that some people go into during sex,” Bucky said. “It doesn’t happen every time, and it’s different for every sub, but it’s sort of like a place they can go to in their own head when they feel safe enough to pass over complete control to their partner,”

“Ella calls us Mommy and Daddy because that’s how she shows our dominance over her,” Natasha added.

“Is that what you want me to call you?” Peter asked, threading his fingers together over and over again, kneading and twisting his hands.

“You can call us whatever you feel comfortable with,” Bucky quickly assured. “Don’t think you have to do something just because Ella’s doing it,”

Before Peter could answer, Ella called out Natasha’s name from the kitchen, her voice sounding frightened. “I’m sorry but I need to make sure she’s okay,” Natasha excused before disappearing in her leotard through the bedroom door.

Bucky led Peter towards the bed and sat him down on it. “Do you have any more questions, Buddy?”

“Do I have to have sex with you?” He said quickly, worry creasing is features.

Bucky chuckled, “No, Kid. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,”

Peter looked Bucky in the eyes, something he hadn’t done in about ten minutes. “I’m a virgin.” He whispered.

“Aww, Kid,” Bucky wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in, pressing a firm kiss to the top of his head. “That’s not a bad thing, you know?”

Peter snuggled under Bucky’s chin. “It’s not?”

“I promise, you gotta hold onto that shit for as long as you can, yeah? Don’t waste it on someone who doesn’t care about you.” He told him, “It’s not worth it,”

Peter heard Natasha come down the hallway and when she rounded the corner, a sniffly Ella was perched on her hip, letting tears stream down her face. “Someone had an accident,” she announced.

Natasha placed the young girl in Bucky’s lap, who turned her over to look at the crotch of her pale dancing tights, a pink leotard and tutu overtop. Ella’s crotch was stained dark, like she’d pissed herself.

“I thought we decided you felt big enough to wear big girl panties today?” Bucky asked, smoothing Ella’s soft, fluffy hair away from her face.

Ella hiccuped and Bucky dried her tears. “Got scared, everyone left me alone,” she slurred, looking over at Peter. She stared at him a moment and Bucky hummed in realisation.

“Peter knows now Ella,” he stated. “You can be as little as you want in front of him and he’s not gonna judge you, okay?”

Her face lit up, pure excitement glowing in her eyes. “Really?” She asked, lunging across to Peter, and hugging him around the neck.

Bucky caught her behind, hovering it away from them. “Wet butt!” Bucky said loudly, reminding her she had just peed her pants.

Ella giggled, embarrassed. “Sorry,” she said. Bucky lifted her by the hips and dangled her upside down as he carried her to the wall and placed her on a changing table. Peter questioned how he didn’t notice the adult sized changing table when he first walked into the room.

Bucky pulled apart the buttons connecting her leotard between her legs and pulled off her tights. Peter chose that moment to look away, deciding he didn’t want to impose on an intimate moment like that.

Natasha took a seat beside him, her tights were a paler colour to match her skin tone and her leotard was black and sleek, hugging her waist and hips like a glove. Her breasts were more contained than usual, but still threatened to spill out of the top.

Peter blushed when he realised Natasha had caught him watching her body with such an intensity, but she threaded her fingers through his hair to reassure him. “It’s alright, Peter. I’m your Mom, you can look,”

He felt a tightness in his sweatpants at the suggestion but he chose to ignore it. Giggling from the changing table caught his attention and he looked over to see Bucky pulling a vest over Ella’s head, straightening it out to cover her bare breasts. He kissed her forehead before dropping her down on the floor in just the vest and her pull up diaper.

Natasha cooed at her, “Is that better, Baby?”

She straddled Natasha and kissed her Mother on the lips. Peter felt his cock lerch.

Ella continued to kiss Natasha for a few seconds while the boys unconsciously watched them until Ella pulled away from her Mom’s mouth. “Can I have some milk please, Mommy?”

Peter watched as Natasha nodded and began pulling the straps of her leotard down. She took her right breast out and Ella latched onto it.

A thick lump formed in Peter’s throat that he had to push past to swallow, but he found himself looking at Bucky instead of his sister sucking their mother's tit.

“I’m heading out for a jog in a minute,” Bucky told him. “Wanna come, Buddy?”

Peter nodded without processing it. “Sure,” he desperately needed to clear his head.

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thesecetlesbo · 3 years

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That time of the month

Pairing: wandanat x fem!reader

Summary: You and Wanda are both on your periods and Nat is forced to go on a mission

Warnings: light swearing

Word count:1.2K

……………

Periods sucked, everyone knew. It’s especially worse when one of your girlfriends are sync and the other has never experienced the pain before. No one in the relationship enjoys that time of the month. You suffer from really bad cramps which you get a couple before your period, giving you a small warning sign for the week that’s about to happen, rather Wanda has a tendency to lose her appetite and feel sick whenever it does happen, leaving her drained and tired. And there was Nat, now she had never had a period due to the red room but she went full protector mode when you two were taking on women hood face first. She could give you more cuddles than needed, supplied chocolate and had heat packs and blankets on stand by.

The only problem was that she was on a mission at the worst time of the month. Sometimes you guys would get lucky and have the week off but Fury had other plans.

“I’m sorry loves, you know this is out of my control.” Nat said while packing her bag quickly, fury had only given her an hour warning. She fully knew her girlfriends weren’t gonna be the happiest about it.

“We know Tasha, it's just annoying” Wanda sighed already started to feel sick.

“Just please be safe for us” You stood, and moved towards her before wrapping your arms around her. Wanda stood up and wrapped her hands around the front of Nat breathing in her scent.

“I will and you both know that, it's only 3 days.” Wanda and You both looked up in shock.

“Three days!”

“I know, I know it's not the best situation, '' Nat said, holding both her girls tight. “Just take the week easy and hide in the room if you have to.”

“The jet is ready for you Mrs Romanoff” Friday stated. She kissed both of you longing not wanting to leave you.

“I love you both, look after each other”

“We love you too, sweetheart” Wanda said back, rubbing her thumb pad against Nats cheek. Nat picked up her bag before walking to the door, before she could go you walked towards her and gave her a big hug, not wanting her to leave. She leant down and kissed your cheek. Before leaving the door before closing the door.

You walked over to Wanda, tears in your eyes. It didn’t help that you hated when one of you went on a mission alone but it definitely didn’t help you when you were on your period. Wanda held her arms out, you hugged her tight like a kid who just found their teddy bear.

“She’s gonna be fine, y/n” You sniffed into her neck.

“I know”

………………

You woke up tired, you were in wanda's arms, one of her hands in your hair and the other on your lower back. Your arms were wrapped around her torso and waist leaving you head in the nook in her neck. You moved your head up to see the time. 8:30am Thursday. You groaned you both had a team meeting at nine. You felt her shuffle against you. You lifted your head and gave her a few kisses on the cheek.

“Baby we have a team meeting at nine” you whispered softly not wanting to break the air between you too. She pulled you in tighter not wanting to leave the warmth.

“Do we have to go? I already feel sick and I haven’t felt the bed.” She whispered.

“We do but I promise afterwards I'll make us some food and we can watch a movie in bed.” She let go of you.

“Fine but only because you're a good cook and cuddle buddy” You smiled at her. Before getting up to give her a kiss and hoping in the shower.

After you got out Wanda was already dressed in a pair of Nats sweatpants and hoodie, you smiled before going for a pair of leggings and one of Nats oversized shirts.

………………

The meeting went for longer than it should have, half of the bullshit was just Tony and Steve Banting back and forth about some bullshit you hadn’t been paying attention to as your cramps creeped into your lower back.

“Tony all I’m saying is that it seems like a waste of costs”

“Well Steve your a waste of cost.”

“CAN YOU GUYS PLEASE SHUT THE HELL UP '' You looked up at your girlfriend's voice, everyone fell silent as Wanda walked out of the meeting. Your chair made an awful noise as you stood up, chasing her down the hallway.

“Hey Wanddss.” You said while catching up to her.

“I made a scene didn’t i?”

“No, no. Just don’t be surprised if the boys keep some distance” you held her hand and kissed her knuckles. You both made your way to the kitchen, Wanda sat on her bench opening her phone to message Nat.

-Wanda to Nat- We Miss you <3

-Nat to Wanda- I know and i'll be home before you know it.

Wanda placed her phone down and looked up at you putting some type of pasta on to the stove. She smiled before jumping off the bench and wrapping her arms around you searching for some type of warmth as she watched you stirring the pasta sauce that took you weeks to perfect.

“Can you grab some bowls for us dear” Sure turned to open the cabinet and place the bowls next to the stove as you drained the pasta dividing the pasta into the bowls. And pour the sauce over it. Wanda grabbed two forks and led you back into the bedroom. After she had sat herself on the bed you handed her food and sat next to her. Wanda flicked through Netflix until you both decided on Spirited Away. As the movie played you had both finished your pasta. You knew Wanda was gonna be feeling sick soon and she had started to drift to sleep. You collect the dishes before heading back to the kitchen and placing the bowls in the sink. You picked up some water bottles and went to pick up the medication box but couldn’t quite reach it.

“Need a hand?” You looked to your right to see Nat reaching for the box. Before she could put the box down you tackled her into a hug.

“Your home early?” You said still in the hug.

“Fury decided to call it quits after he found out one of my girls made a scene in a meeting” She hugged you back before placing a kiss on your forehead. “Come on. I want cuddles from both my girls” You lead her to your shared room. You saw Wanda half asleep, you placed the water down next to her head on the nightstand. Nat had already climbed into the bed. Wanda snuggled against the warmth assuming the warmth was you.

“What took you so long y/n” Wanda whispered.

“She got a bit distracted,” Nat whispered back. Only to see wanda's face light up when she saw nat. You had climbed into bed and had started to lay on Nats chest, while Wanda hugged her side. Nats hands went to your head and started to play with your hair while her other hand was drawing circles on wanda's lower back. As the anime played on in the background you fell asleep before hearing a whisper of the words “I love you girls”

#wandanat x reader #wandanat imagine #wandanat x you #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat fluff #marvel fluff #fem!reader

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subwaysurf45 · 3 years

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A Starry Night (pt. 1)

Summary: The first day of college didn’t go as planned. But who knew one bad high could cause a great friendship?

Pairing: College!Bucky x Reader

Warning: weed, drinking, angst, crying

Words: 4,517

Mini-Series Masterlist!

Main Masterlist

“As much as I love to study and work,” you huffed between lugging the last of all your clothes from a box onto your twin mattress, “I want to experience some things in my first year,” all the clothes were out of the box, the last one you needed to empty.

Natasha, your roommate, swung her legs off her desk chair, “I get it,” she flipped her red hair over her shoulder out of habit, “there were things you missed out on because of your parents, it’s normal.” Natasha had seen your parents turn from the fun ones to stricter than the Catholic Church in a matter or seconds. She’d been your friend since grade seven when you were put on the same intramural spike ball team by chance, you both ended up quitting and joining the STEM club. She was there before, during, and after the incident.

“I’ve drank before, you know that, but I’m saying I want to get fucked, I want to blackout and get a crazy hangover, y’know?” You stacked your shirts together and shoved them all in the tiny space in your closet.

“Not sure you wanna get a crazy hangover-”

“You get what I’m saying, I know about the headache and all that but I just want to party and finally be free,” Nat nodded and watched as you shoved your pants into the other drawer.

Today was the day you had moved into your dorm, making it your first day at college. Natasha moved in two days prior by luck of the draw, this whole time she was texting pictures of your very small place, it got tons of natural light to make it look bigger. The mattress pad you brought from home was still wrinkled and not fully puffed up but when you laid on it the original mattress it made it way better. Two twin beds and two desks with the chairs that can’t be tipped over, the rest was up to you. Nat had already put up a few posters and polaroids but you were still stuck on the necessities, it took longer than expected. Classes started in two days so this was technically ‘frosh-week’, but it was more ‘frosh-couple of days’ in your opinion. Nat had already been invited to a house party and she asked if you could tag along, the host didn’t know you but that said sure either way. You didn’t have party clothes because your mother went through everything you were bringing and took out the lace bra you bought along with anything that showed your stomach, Nat had good clothes, she knew that was going to happen and came prepared. You placed a few knick-knacks on your desk, a stress ball, and your laptop. Once the bathroom situation was sorted out you both decided to grab some well deserved coffees.

The café wasn’t too far away, with the sun out it felt nice to let it bounce off your skin. A plain grey hoodie from the thrift store and some biker shorts that were Nat’s were what you were sporting, it seemed most people did the same. Natasha liked to show her body and you were fine with that, you would love to as well. Her belly button piercing showed with every step of her walk and her hair was pulled back.

“You still drink that sweet coffee?” Nat giggled as she opened the door.

“No I don’t, I drink cold brew, thank you very much.” You punctuated the end of your sentence with a little smirk, in high school you only got caramel macchiatos while Nat got black coffee, she always bugged you about it and still did after you changed to cold brew in senior year.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” The, most likely, fourth year asked from behind the register.

“Medium cold brew with a splash of almond milk and a medium iced americano with two-”

“-three-”

“-Three shots of espresso, please,” Nat tapped herr card to the debit machine and headed over to the other side, “I think you’re addicted, babe,” you laughed as Nat tried to cover her face.

As the lady with the septum piercing was making both your drinks a guy walked up to Nat, “hey, Nat, what’s going on?” his voice was quite deep, he was also built like a greek god. The shiny blond hair and the perfect blue eyes had Nat’s mouth watering, his muscles seemed to ripple under his fitted gym shirt.

“Jus’ gettin’ coffee,” she was drunk talking to him, when she snapped out of her dreamy state and remembered you were here she shook her head quickly, “this is my friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Steve Rogers, the host of the house party tonight.”

“Hi,” you smiled and stuck you hand out for a shake, “I hope I’m still cool to come even though I wasn’t invited,” you tried to play it off but that was for sure the dumbest thing you’ve said.

“The more the merrier,” Steve laughed, his teeth were perfect, “I got some of my buddies coming too, they’re bringing the drinks and most likely weed, hope that’s okay?” Steve turned to you. You knew Nat had smoked and drank before, when Steve turned to you it felt nice, like he was already checking in with you, he most likely did the same to Nat when she was first invited.

You were about to answer but your drinks were ready, as you turned to grab them Natasha started talking, “she’s good with that, we did it a few times in high school, but we aren’t avid smokers, per se,” with your back turned you could hear Nat’s blush spreading all the way to her ears. She wasn’t lying, you had smoked before but only took one drag before freaking out and going home to get scolded by your parents.

“No worries, trust me,” you turned back to them and Steve looked at you, “this isn’t high school shit, if you don’t want to drink or smoke, no one will get mad, we’re all here to find friends and have a good time,” shrugged his ripped shoulders, “plus,” he laughed before telling the joke, “the more weed for Bucky, the better.” you were supposed to understand that joke, but you’ve never met a ‘Bucky’ before.

As you both walked back to your dorm Natasha introduced you to a few other people and Sam, who lived with Steve and this Bucky guy. Sam was a real sweetheart, he complimented your hair and talked about his program. Engineering.

“Really?” You gasped.

“Ya,” Sam nonchalantly shrugged.

“You want to build plane engines?” Your jaw was still hung open and your eyes were still wide,

“that’s incredible!”

“My dad did it, I want to do it,” Sam pulled you both for a one armed hug, “I gotta go, see you tonight!” He called over his shoulder.

With an overly dramatic huff your back hit against your now fully puffed up mattress. You did a final organize of all your school supplies and had a small war against your bins when trying to get them under your bed. Small beads of sweat lined your forehead and your grey hoodie was darker under your arms, the little fan your mother had bought was doing a good job, not a great one. Nat was in and out of the room, sometimes she’d purposely knock over the things you just organized with a cackle but you’d both laugh it off. She’d be getting phone calls and text messages, part of you was worried she’d leave you for other friends but when Nat caught your eye she’d nod and send you their social media information. Even Sam, who you met just hours ago, had sent you a text during your organization moment, he said he wanted to get to know you and Nat more, he and Steve wanted to get you both in their friend group.

“What are you going to wear?” Nat turned around in the bathroom, her side leaning against the doorframe.

“I don't know,” you sighed, “my parents went through everything and took out my party clothes,” you sat up and gave her a knowing look.

“I’m guessing they said no drinking?” she gave a sympathetic look, Nat was the only one allowed to talk about that stuff.

“They said no partying, but they can’t control me,” Nat nodded with a wide smile, “and I know you said that during high school, but I feel it now,” the random burst of confidence rushed through you, you shot up and walked over to Nat’s closet, “give me something nice to wear, this is my first party ever and I need to impress these new guys.”

“But not too much, Steve is mine,” Nat laughed as she walked over, “here, try this.”

It was just a tank top, but full of shimmers. Not the cheap kind where they fall off, but the fabric itself was subtly sparkly. You’d wear black jeans, which were yours, with it because the top was the statement piece. It was time to get ready anyway, Nat was in the bathroom to start priming her face. You slipped on her pushup bra and threw the shirt over top, it fit nice. There was a very old and dusted full length mirror but it was enough to see just how good you looked, everything worked together, this was the moment you’ve been waiting for.

Until the phone rang.

“Oh shit!” You yelled as you saw the caller ID, “my mom can’t see me like this, what do I do?” You called to Nat who was unfazed in the bathroom.

“Don’t answer,” Nat shrugged, “you can’t bring your phone to the library and the book club is very, very formal…” that little smirk grew again, “right?”

In awe you just looked at her, “you can get out of it all, can’t you?” both of you began to laugh over the sound of that haunting ringtone. You crammed in the bathroom and Nat tapped your lips with some gloss, “thank you,” you squeeked, “I don’t want a ton, you know that.”

“Do I ever,” Nat giggled and kept doing her makeup while you watched the number of missed calls pile up, part of you wanted to answer but the other half knew they would win. You needed to be firm and let them know you weren’t a kid anymore, they couldn’t attach those strings and act like the puppeteer all the time. After one deep breath Nat walked out, “you can answer if you want, I’m not trying to get in your head and pull you the other way.”

“No,” you just watched it flash again and again, “it’s just…” you sighed and looked at her.

“I know,” she nodded.

“They care, they care a lot and sometimes it’s too much but-” you cut yourself off, not wanting to think about that, “they have a good reason, y’know? It’s not like they are strict for the fun of it,” you picked up your phone and silenced it, shoving it in your back pocket.

Nat wrapped an arm around your shoulder after making it outside in the crisp fall air, “you know you’re responsible, I know you’ll be overly responsible tonight,” She glanced at her phone for the address and took the turn, “but have some fun, you really deserve it.”

The party had already begun, it was dark in and out of the house but the outside didn’t have music or coloured lights all around. It wasn’t crammed like the movies from shoulder to shoulder but there were pockets of people standing and talking, they paid you both no mind. Nat kept your hand in hers as she navigated the hallway, looking back with a smile. When she made it to the backyard Steve, Sam, and another guy were sitting on the couch. There was a bong, rolled joints, beers- empty and full -as well as some water bottles.

“You made it!” Steve jumped up and walked over, Sam quickly followed. Hugs were passed out but the one other guy was still sitting, rolling another joint. As Sam applauded you for coming you couldn’t help but get distracted by the sound of a lighter starting up many times, you’d look over to see this guy leaned very close to the joint and looking concentrated; his tongue poked out between his lips.

Everyone sat down and you were last to find a spot, you ended up joining the mystery man on the two seater couch. The bounce when you sat down startled him out of his work, “oh, shit,” he looked up and giggled, “didn’t hear you guys walk in, welcome,” he turned to you, “we haven’t met, I’m Bucky.”

A calloused and dry hand met yours, “Y/N,” you spoke softly, eyes darting around to all the weed that would get you in so much trouble if your parents saw.

“Y/N,” he tested the sound, a smile growing, “very pretty.” he looked at you longer than normal before looking away to shake Nat’s hand. His hair fell perfectly down to the middle of his neck, it was wavy and beautifully brown. All you wanted was to see his teeth and that smile he kept casting towards you, it seemed to ignite something.

You felt swallowed by the couch but chose not to let it eat you whole, conversations were already starting and you were just sat there, looking around. Everyone’s voices were mixing together, a yell and loud laugh came fair and far between. It was calm to you, nothing like what your parents had said. Part of you always knew they over exaggerated drinking, parties, and drugs after what happened but you didn’t think they went too far over the top, but they did. No glass was breaking and no one was fighting, just peace. Your head slowly leaned back and rested on the top of the couch, the sun was fully down and the stars were out. There was less light pollution here, you could see stars for miles on end without any strain. There was a bounce but you thought nothing of it, until smoke started to get in the way of the stars. You looked over to see Bucky doing the same thing, head leaned back and looking up.

When he noticed you had looked over so he tilted his head to you, “what exactly are we looking for?” he whispered, there were still voices in the background that didn’t concern either of you. His knuckles lightly tapped your thigh, when you looked down you saw him holding a joint.

“I’ve never done it right before,” you whispered, not meeting his eyes. When he didn’t respond you looked up, he seemed to be fighting with something.

“You want me to teach you or do you want me to pass it on? It’s totally fine if you don’t want to smoke,” though you just met him you could tell he was being genuine, no smirking or laughing, just a real question to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

“Pass it on,” you muttered. Bucky gave a curt nod and leaned over you to sluggishly pass the joint to Sam, when he came back his head was closer to you and his thigh was touching yours. “Thanks,” you whispered, focusing on the stars.

He brought his hand and patted your thigh before dropping it back down to the couch, “don’t worry, no one will pressure you and that shit, it’s stupid,” Bucky looked over to you, you felt this urge to look at him, “do you want to at some point?”

“I think so,” you nodded.

“Cool,” his face lit up a bit, “just tell me and I’ll show you, it won’t be weird or embarrassing, I’ve taught Steve,” Bucky laughed and sat up, you followed, “isn’t that right Steve?” Bucky cut through his and Nat’s conversation.

It seemed to be the shit eating grin Bucky was giving Steve because he understood, “Bucky, I swear, you didn’t teach me,” Net perked up, Steve just rolled his eyes.

Bucky turned to you, “I caught this punk watching a youtube video on how to smoke, he stole my pre rolled joints and everything,” Steve was pink and covering his face, Nat was laughing. You just giggled and nodded along, “I find it very nice when someone asks to learn, in my opinion.”

You were in the conversation, talking with everyone. You and Nat shared some embarrassing stories and it was then that you were reminded of how strong your bond was with the red head. Natasha knew all the stories about you, she was there that day in court. Not once did she edge a story but pull away or even give a snarky look, silently saying ‘I have dirt on you’. She told stories about the time where you got hit in the face three times with only seconds between during dodgeball or when you threw up right before your band performance, you ended up playing your flute with a little left over on your lip. You spilled a few things to Steve, noticing the brewing chemistry between them. Natasha graduated after getting into a fight with another girl over nothing, she lost a nail so when she held her diploma she did it strategically. Or when she was score keeping the football game and a player was running her way, when she realized the player would run into her and the scorekeeper’s table she got up and ran away, leaving the football team’s head coach’s laptop to get absolutely wrecked.

Near the end of the story time Bucky had passed the joint to you, asking again if you wanted to try. You’d become loose, you had a few beers. You said yes. Bucky was very happy, running inside to get one of his many lighters.

“A gift,” he laughed, he was very high, “let’s go,” he talked you through it. In the middle of your exhale you began to cough, everyone giggled and so did you but Bucky laughed his way through patting your back. “Don’t worry,” his eyes barely open, “it happens.”

It came over you fast but smoothly, you were definitely high. While Bucky was telling stories about getting boners during his high school presentations you were laughing along with hooded eyes, your giggles would come out of nowhere but erupt into laughter. Bucky, who was higher than you, would laugh as well for no real reason. Nat looked at you a few times, silently checking in with a subtle thumbs up, you bit your bottom lip and nodded. Nat was a drinker rather than a smoker and even then you could hardly tell when she was drunk, she was able to sober up when taking care of you.

You pulled out your phone to check the time but wasn’t expecting the full brightness, it took a second before you realized you had over a hundred missed calls and you had been at this party for three hours. It was a little past two in the morning. Bucky looked over to see where the brightness was coming from and managed to get a glimpse of the number of missed calls and the most recent text in your family group chat that read: we aren’t doing this again.

“You should call them back,” Bucky said normally, a volume where everyone could hear him.

“Who?” Sam leaned over. You turned off your phone and brought it up to your chest, “come on, who?” Sam sntached the phone out of your hands. He turned it on and saw everything. “Someone’s in trouble!” he sang like a child.

“Give it back,” the world was spinning while you reached for it, making you miss.

A more stern voice cut in, “give it back,” Nat said harshly, no trace of alcohol on her tongue.

Bucky leaned over to Sam and took the phone, “we should call them,” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows, “tell them that their daughter is higher than a kite,” Bucky turned on the phone again and was met by a call coming from your parents. His eyes quickly flashed to you, they were bug eyed and full of pure terror, “...or not…” he sounded like he was asking a question. The phone was still ringing and your breathing got faster, Nat came over and sat beside you. Your hand was flush against your chest as you began to rock back and forth, “what is happening?” Bucky turned to face you, he sobered up as well.

“I don’t want to be high anymore,” you whispered. Your vision was tunneling and all you could picture was the incident. The flashing lights and your family, the courthouse and the lawyers, the papers and the therapists, all of it. Little whimpers came with your gasps for air, your legs were slowly curling into you while your arms crossed over your chest. The ringing in your ears sounded soft but it was completely blocking the sound of Bucky and Nat trying to talk to you. Your eyes focused on the phone that began to call again, you’ve heard the ringtone so many times it was all you could hear even though it wasn’t actually breaking through the dull ringing.

Nat took your phone and put it behind her, your eyes didn’t move and were now looking at the little table that held the weed and drinks. Your hand reached to your left and gripped Natasha’s shoulder, she placed a hand over yours as well. Though it was fuzzy Steve and Sam ran inside, you didn’t know what they were doing. The table turned into Bucky’s face instantly, he was crouching in front of you, both hands on your legs as he looked up and met your eye line. You were looking through him, his face was fuzzy but you could faintly make out tear tracks running down his cheeks. The blurs came back and it must have been Steve and Sam, Bucky looked over his shoulder and then moved out of the way.

Cold water was shot in your face.

The fuzziness and the ringing went away but the rapid and shallow breaths stayed for a couple minutes. Bucky went back to where he was crouching and talked you down, “it’s alright, just keep breathing, you’re doing amazing, keep going,” his voice was soft and so light, you were almost able to tune out his sniffled, “I’m so sorry, that was probably so scary, shit, I’m sorry,” he whispered and rest his chin on your knees.

With one final shaky breath you were back, Nat kept rubbing your back. You looked around to see Steve standing, looking very concerned, with an empty glass of water and Sam with a towel, Nat looked extremely sad and was resting her head on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered and stood up, Bucky stood with you, “that was so uncalled for, that shouldn't have happened, I don’t-”

“Nat told us that your parents are controlling and not to bring your parents up in conversation,” Steve cut you off, Bucky nodded and looked down to the ground, “we are terrible friends for that, I’m sorry.”

“F-friends?” you looked at Steve then Sam then Bucky, “we’re friends?” you were genuinely shocked.

“If we aren’t, I want to be now,” Sam let out a breathy laugh, “before all that when we were just talking, you and Nat were great,” he looked to the other boys for confirmation, “you’re really funny, and we can definitely forget what happened just now and if you ever want to talk we can be serious really quick, we’re not going to push you.”

“You guys are really laid back,” you looked at Bucky, “and it’s okay, I forgive you.”

“Thanks,” Bucky sniffed, “why don’t you guys stay over, I feel a pillow fort brewing…?” He leaned in with a smile, trying to sell you both on staying.

“I’d love that,” you linked arms with Bucky and walked inside, everyone was gone, “it gives a chance for Nat and Steve to cuddle,” you whispered to Bucky.

“Ladies and gentleman,” Sam jumped, “she’s back!”

The morning came soon, you ended up leaving the pillow fort and making your way to someone’s bedroom. It felt weird to sleep in someone’s bed but you slept over the covers so it wouldn’t be too weird. The ceiling was very boring but it seemed to be the best space for you to project images of last night on, it was flat and one colour so the blurry shapes seemed clearer. The internal battle to call your parents had been fighting within you for a while, your phone sat plugged in on the bedside table. The missed call was still present on your screen.

With less than one ring your mom picked up, “-fuck were you thinking? You almost killed us! We were so worried and you thought it was just ok to not call us, did you not see our calls?” you weren’t on speaker but you could hear her voice loud and clear from your phone sitting on your lap.

“I joined a book club, no phones in the library,” your voice slurred from lack of sleep.

The call lasted a total of five minutes, you didn’t talk at all. You were reminded of what happens when drinking is involved, how that can change a family. They went into detail about everything, it ended up making you cry. You were done with hearing and talking about what happened as well as getting blamed, it wasn’t your fault, even lawyers told you so. But it still hurt whenever it was brought up. When you got the chance to hang up, you took it.

A few minutes later there was a knock at the door, “yeah?” Your voice sounded sad, it was obvious.

The door opened to show Bucky holding a croissant on a plate with an iced coffee, “hey, stranger,” he walked in, “I see you like my room the best?” He went to the bedside and placed the food there.

Your eyes went wide, “oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Don’t,” Bucky sat on the bed, right next to you, “I asked Nat for your coffee order, here you go.”

“Thanks,” you smiled.

It wasn’t hard for Bucky to pick up on you crying, he could see your eyes that were red and puffy as well as a unwiped tear track on your neck. You could see his sympathetic look even though he tried to hide it, most likely not wanting to come off as condescending. You shifted closer and he did the same, his hand coming up and rubbing your back. He was looking at you and you were looking at him, his eyes went from one feature to another, trying to find clues written on your skin to help him answer the question he’s had since your breakdown last night.

What the hell happened?

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builder051 · 3 years

Text

Marvel Disabilities Celebration Week: Day 2

Creedless Assassins; takes place post-Infinity War, pre-Endgame (Diverges from Endgame quite a bit, but pulls from the canon of the comics, so maybe that's ok?)

______________________________

It starts off as a cold. At least that's what Clint says when he talks to various medical professionals about the genesis of what came next.

Steve had called it a headcold. Apparently he'd spent most of his childhood with the stuffy ears and sinuses gone to shit, exacerbated by a perpetual low grade fever and sore throat.

Nat had called it a hell cold. Maybe because it made Clint feel like hell. But probably because it made him give her a lot of hell.

Steve had tried to get them all together in a sort of bucket brigade, stopping by with soup and Kleenex whenever they happened to be at the tower. It didn't take long for Thor to start making himself scarce. Then Tony, even though the tower is technically his permanent address. Bruce turned up every other day for almost two weeks before he snapped and sent Clint an 'anonymous' email in all caps and green text, accusing him, in more efficient language, of being a poser. After that, everything fell on Nat.

"It's been almost a month," Nat says, annoyed. She lays upside down on the foot of Clint's bed, head hanging off the edge and a comic book held up an inch from her nose.

Clint coughs wetly. "Not my fault."

"I didn't say it was."

"Huh?" Clint looks up and wrinkles his nose, then puts his hand behind his ear.

"You still all congested?" Nat asks. "Because you really should be over that by now."

Clint shrugs. "It's not my face, really." He gestures to the prominent bones beneath his eyes. He's thinned out lately, so everything on him is prominent now. "It's more like my..." He claps his hands against the sides of his head.

"Ears?" Nat guesses.

Clint nods.

"You probably have an infection." There's a hint of 'duh' in Nat's voice. "With that hell cold, I wouldn't be surprised if you had some... stuff. Bronchitis. Ear infection."

"Doesn't hurt, though," Clint protests, determined to be fine, despite evidence to the contrary.

"You need to go get it checked out," Nat says. She gives Clint a hard look.

"But--"

"Humor me." Nat's expression turns to a gentle smile, even though she's on the losing end of the argument. She's giving Clint a gift, not fighting back. She must realize how awful he feels, and Clint immediately feels guilty for hiding it.

"Yeah," Clint sighs. Nat could probably tell him anything and he'd agree right now, in the vulnerable position he currently holds.

Her words make sense, though. His ears don't seem to work. Haven't all week. Maybe longer. Clint isn't sure.He doesn't need his sense of hearing much whilst he's lying in bed, all his energy absorbed in raising his body temperature enough to host the antibodies and force them to work against the intruders. Or maybe it's the other way around. Yada Yada. Clint doesn't care.

"If I make you an appointment, will you go?" Nat asks, a little desperation in her tone.

"Maybe?" Clint imbues the word with as much honesty as he can

To be completely candid, his mission days are over. SHIELD can't trust him to stick to the script in the field anymore, so he's basically defunct. They use him as a paperwork pusher, signing and stamping, because he can read and write and he's a level six.

Mission reports from [Name redacted] SHIELD Agent/Enhanced Person, passed, damages, casualty count don't phase him. Shit happened. Yeah, it sucks. The families of the dead are due recompense, lest their asses be sued (again). The success to casualty ration will be added to a long list of MS Excel data with automatic unfolding equations that define the company metrics.

Then Clint will snap up his briefcase, for god knows he has one now, a gift from Nat last Christmas. After that, he'll go home and... heat up canned soup. Maybe send a text or two. Go to bed. And wake up the next morning to do it all again.

Clint doesn't have Laura to fix his breakfast and dinner anymore. Nor does he have his children to run around in the yard with during his evenings and weekends.

His ears have been stuffy for so long now that he barely recalls Laura's voice. He thinks he holds onto her laugh, but then when he gets Nat started on a giggle fest, Clint thinks they sound eerily similar.

He's lost Lila completely. Nothing young and girlish remains in Clint's dwindling sound library, and he keeps mistaking the boys for each other, pushing Cooper back into babyhood as he tries to remember something Nathaniel said the other day before school.

Except it wasn't the other day. They vanished better than 90 days ago., and lint's been sick for at least the last month. Sometimes Clint wonders if Laura had been sick when she'd died, or been dusted or vaporized or whatever had happened. Had she been putting on a brave face to fight a fever? Had she passed on mono to her only bewedded husband? Did Laura have a secret boyfriend that no one knew about?

But no. No. Clint doesn't want to know. He thinks one more time about asking Nat, but changes his mind again, sticking to the high road.

"I need a better answer," Nat says. "If I make you an appointment, " she flips her phone between her fingers. "Will you go?"

Clint draws in his breath. "Will you take me?" he finally asks.

Nat grits her teeth. "Yeah. I guess."

"Do you think something's really wrong?" Clint furrows his brow.

Nat's molars continue to grind together, and her incisors push forward into the flesh of her lip. Clint expects to hear the awful sound, but instead there's nothing until she clears her throat and finally says, " Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Clint lets a beat of silence pass. "Ok.... Make it, and I guess I just..."

"Just tell them how it started, then what you're feeling right now," Nat says, as if it's that easy.

"You mean, the cold?"

"Yeah." Nat nods. "I don't mean to jump to conclusions on you, but that's a possible side effect of mono. If that's what you wind up having."

"Huh?"

"Don't know or didn't hear?" Nat looks concerned.

"Neither." Clint shakes his head.

"Going deaf."

"...Ok." Clint sighs. "I guess I knew that, but..."

"Hard to let it sink in when it's happening to you?"

"Yeah. Like jumping without a chute, or something."

"Nothing like that feeling, electrifying your veins." Nat shudders. "But similar, probably. I don't know."

"I don't know either. A fucking cold." Clint shake his head. "'S what I deserve, I guess."

"Hey, I never said that." Nat stares harshly into his eyes. "We'll come out the other side."

Clint reluctantly nods. "You know I haven't forgotten you yet? Like, the sound of you?" His eyes begin to fill with tears.

Nat presses her lips together again. "That's--" She shakes her head. "That's not fair. You deserve to keep her. To keep them. I don't matter." Nat waves her hand in front of er boy, as if to accentuate her worthlessness.

"It is what it is," Clint says, "And right now, I'll take what I can get."

"That makes me--" Now it's Nat's turn to wipe away tears. "I'll come see you tomorrow, ok?" She lifts herself up from Clint's bed in a push up position. She scrubs her face into the forearm of her hoodie, then shoots Clint a wan smile.

He returns the gaze, then pulls his blankets up to his chest. "I'll miss you."

"No, you won't," Nat scoffs. She squeezes lint's foot through the quilt before she turns to go.

"Hey, thanks!" The words are out of his mouth before Clint realizes he's shouting. He's hyperaware of his problem, now. His cheeks go pink, and he offers Nat an awkward wave.

Nat turns, then waves back, over her shoulder as she exits the room, leaving Clint alone in the silence.

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wizardofrozz · 3 years

Text

Welcome to Westview!

Warnings: swearing

A/N: Enjoy 😁

Chapter 18

Clint POV

The sun filtered through the thin curtains, warming my face, and dragging me out of the safety of sleep. I blinked, instantly covering my face and groaning; I rolled over, reaching for Nat, only to find the bed empty. I flopped onto my back again, staring at the ceiling, as my memories from the night before started to pop up, bringing a headache with them. I sighed and threw the blankets off, sliding out of bed to stumble towards my dresser; I pulled on a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt. I wandered down the steps, only to find the living room empty; I rubbed at my eyes as I staggered into the kitchen. Nat stood near the backdoor, wearing skinny jeans and a black crop top, with a death grip on the mug of coffee as she stared off into space.

“Morning, babe,” I grumbled, heading for the coffee pot.

“Morning, birdie,” she called, smiling softly over her shoulder. “(Y/N) called this morning…Bucky didn’t come home last night.”

“Fuck,” I hissed, bracing myself on the counter, and dropped my head. “Alright, let me chug some coffee, and we’ll go round up the troops.” I poured a full cup, chugging it as fast as I could despite the scorching temperature. Within 10 minutes, Nat and I were walking out the door, heading across the street; I glanced to my left and saw Thor, wearing jeans, a white shirt, and a baby blue zip-up hoodie, heading towards us.

“(Y/N) called you guys too,” Thor called, his voice getting closer.

“Yeah,” Nat sighed, leaning into my side. Thor’s shoulder’s sagged, and he shook his head before ushering us towards his brother’s house. Thor opened the door to an empty living room and decided to call out for his brother and sister-in-law; Loki’s green shirt caught my attention when he appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, and he quickly gestured us in.

The three of us hurried into the kitchen to find (Y/N), in skinny jeans and a plain white shirt, with a crying Steve in jeans and a navy hoodie, sitting around the island. “(Y/N). I can’t wait anymore. I barely slept last night,” Steve hiccupped, swiping at his face.

“I think we need to talk to Wanda,” I cut in, surprising myself.

“Wanda?” Steve croaked, turning his red-rimmed eyes towards me.

“Just trust us,” Loki pressing, resting a hand on Steve’s shoulder, his lip twitching up briefly.

“Let’s go,” Steve replied, pushing away from the island. The rest of us hurried after him, following him across the street to Wanda’s front door. Steve pounded on the door until it swung away from his fist to reveal a surprised Wanda.

“…hi guys,” Wanda greeted with a raised eyebrow.

“I need answers, Wanda,” Steve croaked, staring down at her.

“Come in,” she whispered, stepping away to make room. Thor, Nat, Loki, (Y/N), and I followed Steve in and positioned ourselves awkwardly around the room.

“Where are the boys?” Nat asked, her eyes darting around the house. Wanda pulled her hoodie tighter around herself, dropped onto the couch, and grabbed her bowl before looking up at the rest of us.

“With Agnes,” Wanda mumbled, shoving a spoonful of cereal in her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” (Y/N) wonders aloud.

“I was…am…grieving, and I dragged you guys into it,” Wanda sighs, picking up the remote from the couch and turning her eyes to the screen.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Steve snaps, stepping in front of the TV.

“Steve,” I warned, meeting his blazing blue eyes.

Steve narrowed his eyes at me then turned his gaze to Wanda again, boring holes into her face, but she had a faraway look in her eyes. “Wanda! Where. Is. Bucky.” Instead of answering, Wanda turned her head, training her eyes out the window; she straightened, setting the cereal bowl on the table but never taking her eyes off the window. I glanced around the room and shivered when I noticed Thor, Loki, and (Y/N) looking out the window too.

“What’s wrong?” I pressed, glancing between my friends.

The front door flung open, smashing into the wall behind it, drawing everyone’s eyes towards the woman pushing into the house. “Wanda?” the woman called but stopped short, scanning the room. “Wanda!”

“What are you doing?” Wanda hissed, jolting off the couch.

“Wanda…” the woman whispered, slowly backing away.

“How did you get in here?” Wanda slowly moved closer, pushing past Thor and Loki, who stood in her way. I glanced around the room, taking in the concerned and fearful gazes that were trained on Wanda.

“Listen to me. This whole thing is about Vision,” the dark-haired woman pleaded, cowering slightly under Wanda’s gaze. I opened my mouth to cut in, but Wanda’s borderline growl cut me off.

“Get out of my house.”

“Hayward was trying to bring him – “

“Don’t talk to me about that,” Wanda yelled, cutting the other woman off. “I don’t want to hear about it.” Red swirls of energy erupted from Wanda’s hands, throwing the woman out the door with Wanda following closely behind. I looked around the room at the terrified faces of my friends; the six of us snapped into action at the same time, pushing through the door, following Wanda.

“All you do is lie!” Wanda screamed, pulling her magic away. The dark hair woman fell to the ground, but something was wrong; the earth trembled under her when she landed, her eyes burning a hypnotizing electric blue. Soft gasps and sounds of shock mingled in the air around the group, but Wanda didn’t seem to notice.

“The only lies I’ve told are the ones you put in my mouth,” the woman shot back, standing tall again.

“Careful what you say to me,” Wanda growled.

“Wanda,” Nat called, stepping away from my side.

“Natasha!” I hissed, reaching for her. Wanda glanced over her shoulder, her eyes landing on Nat; I recoiled at the emptiness that looked back at us. Nat stopped in her tracks, seemingly frozen by Wanda’s stare.

“Do it, then. Take me out,” the woman offered, stretching her arms out. Wanda turned her attention back to her, pulling in deeper breaths as she assessed the woman challenging her; ultimately, Wanda didn’t attack her.

“See, see? That’s where you and Hayward differ,” the woman said with a smile, moving a step closer. “He’s gonna burn Westview to the ground just to get what he wants. Don’t let him make you the villain.”

“Who the fuck is Hayward?” Loki whispered, his eyes never leaving Wanda’s back. I racked my brain, trying to find a memory, anything to clarify the situation, but I came up empty. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw (Y/N) and Steve’s mouths open but close quickly; no one had an answer.

“Maybe I already am,” Wanda whispered, dropping her head slightly.

“I’m not afraid of you, Wanda. I lost the person closest to me, too. The worst thing I can think of has already happened to me, and I can’t change it. I can’t undo it” -the woman moved closer, offering her hand to Wanda- “I can’t control this pain anymore. And I don’t think I want to because it’s my truth. Wanda, you have to….”

“Young lady, I think you overstayed your welcome. Poor Wanda’s been through enough.” I jumped at the sound of Agnes’ voice, my head snapping towards her house; I watched her walk across the yard, glancing at the rest of us standing around before getting to Wanda’s side.

“This doesn’t concern you. Wanda…” the dark-haired woman pleaded.

“Run along, dear,” Agnes asserted, narrowing her eyes. Agnes started pulling Wanda away towards her house, towards Wanda’s sons; (Y/N), and Loki seemed to snap out of their shocked state first.

“We can’t let her go alone,” (Y/N) hissed, grabbing Loki’s arm.

“Wanda, you have to take it down,” the other woman shouted.

“No,” Wanda shouted, twisting in Agnes’ arms to point at the woman in the street. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

“Go. The rest of us will deal with” -Thor lazily gestured towards the street- “whoever this is.” Loki and (Y/N) looked at each other then nodded, lacing their hands together before hurrying towards Agnes’ house.

“My head hurts,” I mumbled to Nat.

“Right there with you, birdie,” Nat sighed, leaning her head on my shoulder.

“Who are you?” Thor yelled, stepping in front of the remaining group. The woman lifted her head, training her eyes on the sizeable blonde positioning himself between us and her.

“Captain Monica Rambeau,” she called, raising her hands. “I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

“Why are you here?” Steve called, stepping up next to Thor. Steve narrowed his eyes, turning his head slightly like he was trying to hear something far off.

“I’m trying to save you,” Monica offered. “All of you. Before it’s too late.”

“Save us from what?” I cut in, narrowing my eyes and flinching back in confusion.

“Bucky,” Steve suddenly mumbled. I followed Steve’s gaze to find a figure jogging down the street; as it got closer, Bucky’s familiar features came into focus. “Bucky!” Steve took off, closing the distance and basically throwing himself into his partner’s arms. Bucky laughed, burying his face in Steve’s neck before lifting him off his feet and slowly making his way closer to us.

“Hi Stevie,” Bucky chuckled breathlessly, setting him down near Thor again. Bucky pulled away, smiling at Steve’s soft protest, and looked around quickly. “Where’s Vision?”

“We haven’t seen him,” I answered. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Long story,” Bucky sighed, still trying to catch his breath.

“Bucky, what’s wrong with your arm!” Nat shouted, covering her mouth.

“Again…long story.” Bucky panted, widening his stance, resting his hands on his hips and dropping his head as he heaved.

“What the fuck is going on?” Thor stuttered, turning his attention back to Monica.

“We don’t have the time for me to fill all of you in. We need to find Vision before Hayward sends in his weapon.” Monica moved closer, raising her hands again as she approached a tense Thor. “Please, I’m only here to help.”

“She’s fine,” Bucky panted, waving a hand in her general direction.

“You…” Monica started, but Bucky stopped her with a hand.

“Yes, leave it at that,” Bucky snapped. Something resembling sorrow creased the lines of Monica’s face as she dropped her eyes to the ground and nodded. I turned my gaze to Bucky, finding a similar look as his lips turned down into a slight frown and something stirred in my chest. I looked down at Nat, who was still pressed against my side and swallowed back the tsunami of tears and pain that threatened to tear out of me.

“Steve. Bucky,” Thor called, grabbing their attention. “Let’s go look for Vision. Clint, you and Natasha go with Monica.”

“Alright, as long as you don’t pull any of your glowy magic shit again,” I snorted, trying to smile at Monica.

“I won’t, but….” Monica trailed off, taking her time to look at Thor, then Steve, Bucky, Nat, and me. “None of you-“

“Stop,” Bucky snapped, stepping in front of her. Monica stood straighter at the sudden invasion of her personal space; I watched her eyes flicker between Bucky’s before her face fell. I couldn’t hear what she said from where I stood but based on her lips, it almost looked like they don’t know about themselves. My mind reeled at her apparent words, and I blinked as if it would clear the fog of confusion handing around me.

“Let’s work out the kinks later,” Nat sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah,” Monica breathed, finally breaking eye contact with Bucky. Monica took a step away, glancing at Bucky before stepping around him towards Nat and me. Bucky took a deep breath and moved closer to Steve, his eyes raking over his partner’s face; Thor stepped forward, clapping Bucky’s shoulder, and smiling softly.

“Please be careful, guys,” Steve called, trying to smile, but it seemed more like a grimace.

“You too,” I croaked, pulling my lips into my mouth. Thor, Steve, and Bucky nodded before jogging off in the direction Bucky came from, already talking amongst themselves.

“Let’s see if we can get into Agnes’ house from the cellar door,” Monica offered, bringing my attention back to her.

“Do you know what she’s hiding?” Nat fell in step with Monica, leaving me standing frozen in Wanda’s yard. “Clint?”

“Yeah…yeah,” I breathed, turning away from the shrinking figures of my friends.

“No. Wanda has been very particular about what we could see,” Monica sighed.

“What you could see?” I finally spit out.

“Up until recently, your lives were a TV show,” Monica ventured gently.

“Excuse me,” I choked out, blinking lamely at her.

“It’s a long story that we don’t have time for right now,” Monica sighed, picking up her pace. “Come on.” I surveyed the street, looking for anyone who could see us before joining Monica and Nat; I stepped up close behind Nat, pressing a kiss to her hair, earning a soft hum.

“Clear?” Nat whispered.

“Clear,” I replied, nodding at Monica. Her hands wrapped around the handles of the cellar doors, and she yanked them open, revealing a set of steps. The thrum of purple energy intertwined with the creeping roots covering the visible walls and floor opened a pit of anxiety in my stomach.

“What the fuck,” Nat whispered, stiffening against me.

“Snoopers gonna snoop,” someone sighed, and a spark of recognition hit me. I glanced over my shoulder, meeting Pietro’s eyes before pain bloomed in the back of my head and everything went dark.

Chapter 19 | Series Masterlist

Taglist:

@marvelfansworld @imagine-yourself-happy @alluringshawn @lovelokiqueen @shadowolf993 @somegeekychic @jointhehunt67 @neenieweenie @wandas-love @starks-hero

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arsonistslut · 3 years

Text

TW: This part of the story is inconceivably violent, so if that triggers you or you're uncomfy with this sort of stuff, please skip this chapter of my rewrite.

Chapter 18: The Killer's Rampage

CRASH!

The hospital chair proved more than effective at breaking the locked window that held him inside, the moon shining in and providing miniscule light for Jeff Woods. He knew he had to be quick to get outside, as the faculty would probably be barging into his locked room any second now,so he scrambled through the broken window frame, ignoring the glass shards cutting into his bandaged body and hospital gown as he jumped down from the room. It wasn't a long fall, as he was on the first floor of the building, so he quickly proceeded off the hospital grounds and on the road toward his house, grabbing one of the larger shards of broken glass on the ground, just in case he might've needed it. He wasn't waiting anymore. It had been far too long already.

Randy Ellsworth was still thinking over his decision to split off from Keith and Troy on his way home. His mind wandered through ideas, questions he had. Did he really hurt Keith and Troy, or were they just caught up in the moment? One thought led to another, and soon, his thoughts were back at the party. He had invited Jeff there as a peace offering, something that could keep everyone happy for a bit and let everything settle down..but he just had to do that, didn't he? He had to glass him, send him tumbling into that fire..he could only hope and pray he was doing alright. His train of thought about his transgressions was stopped when his headlights highlighted a figure walking down the road, wearing some sort of hospital gown. The figure looked like they were bleeding, so Randy pulled over and got out of the car, cautiously approaching the figure.

"H-Hello? sir, ma'am, whoever you are..you need a ride or something? I can drive you somewhere, if you want."

Randy looked at the person standing before him, before looking into their eyes..the black hair was a start, but those black, sunken-in, terrifying eyes that peered out from the bandages wrapped around their head were a dead giveaway.

"J..Jeff..is that you?"

Jeff's breathing got heavier, gripping the glass in his hand so tightly that his hand bled, until he let out a gutteral yell and charged Randy, driving the shard deep into his chest and tackling him onto his car. Randy screamed in horror and pain, and Jeff took the shard and stabbed him with it, over and over into his gut as blood sprayed onto his face and body. Ellsworth cried and screamed as Woods proceeded to reach into one of the open wounds on his body and violently string out his intestines, his guts flowing out like streamers. Randy hurled a mixture of vomit and blood onto his car, before finally perishing in the killer's grasp.

Jeff shivered as the cold nipped at him, the wind howling as he opened the door to his family's home with the spare key under the floormat. The house was much warmer than the outside, as Jeff just took a moment to soak it all in..the warmth, the stench of blood on his body, what was to come next. Making sure his footsteps were muted, he made his way to the drier and began rummaging through for clean clothes, something warm to replace his hospital gown. A white hoodie and a pair of red jeans would fit him nicely, so he threw the gown aside and slid his new clothing over his athletic frame, hissing as the cloth made contact with his tender, bandaged flesh. His spare pair of steel-toed military boots tied off the outfit quite well, so he proceeded upstairs, retrieving his switchblade from his drawer and pocketing it. He then went to the bathroom, wanting to see his face after not having seen it in over a month. When he peeled away the medical tape from his face, the sight he saw horrified him. His face..it was horrible. All of his skin was a cadaverous white, now, and the old mouth scars he had were gone, overwritten by the hypodermic scarring that had turned his body into a chilling reminder of the party that had gone terrifyingly wrong. He began to chuckle at the sight, the grisly state his face was in, before taking his switchblade and digging it into his cheeks, letting out awful sobs and laughs as bloody tears began to slide down his face.

"Who's there?"

His mother's voice called out into the darkness, and with rivers of crimson pouring from his wounds, he patiently waited. Carla turned the corner, a switchblade to the throat quickly silencing her. Her eldest son watched her gurgle and choke on her own blood, a cold, unforgiving glare meeting her gaze as she died on the floor. The cathartic sensation that washed over Jeff felt unending, his breath growing shaky as he entered his father's room. Carla had gotten out of bed and left Jeff Sr. asleep in his bed. Woods slowly approached his father, before raising his blade and driving down into his head, his father's eyes widening as he realized what was happening.

He was going to die.

Liu was asleep, downstairs, his earbuds blocking out any commotion he might've heard otherwise. He was a light sleeper, so the overpowering smell of blood and sweat that wafted into his room as his door opened was quick to wake him up. When he turned around, he saw his brother standing in the doorway, holding a blowtorch he'd surely gotten from the garage and sliding something down the back of his pants.

"Jeff..is that you? W-What're you doing here?"

A sickeningly prideful chuckle came from Jeff, turning on the blowtorch in his hand and holding it in the air so Liu could definitely see it.

"I am the devil, Liu. And I am here to do the devil's work."

Liu had no time to question his brother about anything he just heard, as Jeff had pinned down the boy with his left hand, igniting the flame of the blowtorch with the other. Then, every neuron in the boy's brain shocking him with pain as his brother rammed the blowtorch into his face, laughing at his screams and cries of pain, a smile soon charred into his face, much like Jeffrey's. Drawing his switchblade from his pocket, the elder sibling jammed the knife into Liu's shoulder, his screams delighting Jeffrey as his blood sprayed onto his face. Jeff, however, was soon knocked away by a lamp thrown at his head. He dropped the blowtorch and held the side of his head, looking to see who threw a lamp at him. He had just enough time to make out Natalie's face as she then struck Jeff with a wrench, knocking him even further back. Liu's body slumped off his bed as Woods tried to kick Natalie away, to no avail when she struck his ankle aside.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!!"

She cried out as blows from her wrench followed, each one more and more painful than the last. However, Jeff had an ace up his sleeve. Reaching into the back of his pants, he grabbed his father's 1911 pistol and pressed it against her cheek.

"Go to sleep, bitch!"

The gunshot that then rang out was deafening, Natalie screaming as her face bled, both of her cheeks blasted open by the 45. ACP that was shot right into her face. Jeff groaned as he stood up, his body still aching from those wrench strikes, and reached down to Nat's face, gripping her right eyeball and beginning to yank it out of her head. With a disgusting snap of her eye's optic nerve, he succeeded, dropping the eyeball next to her. Natalie screamed until her vocal cords no longer let her, Jeffrey running his bloody, bandaged fingers through his hair without a single notion of guilt for his terrible crimes as she eventually passed out from blood loss. With 3 people surely dead at his hands for sure and 2 more in a less certain state, Jeff proudly smiled as he wrote a message in blood on one of the walls, Liu's sobs the only audible sound in the house.

"Why...? Jeff, why did you do this?"

Jeffrey turned to his brother..his crying, bleeding, surely dying brother. A member of his own family, laying in a pool of his own gore. He just looked at Liu, unable to conjure an answer.

"...Why?! Answer me, damnit.."

As Jeffrey began to walk toward the front door, he internally struggled to find an answer for Liu's pleas. The truth was..he didn't have an answer. These were crimes he committed out of impulse, out of a blind hatred he felt for the world. Jeff felt that his brother hated him anyways, so the truth wouldn't change anything. He slowly walked out of his home, not a single word leaving his lips as his brother pleaded for a reason for his killings.

Jeff had a moment of peace outside, his hoodie shielding his body from the cool winds around him. Then, he saw an old '68 Dodge Charger pulled over on the side of the road, and when he caught sight of Keith Winchester at a nearby payphone, he knew killing him would get rid of the aches his body faced from Natalie's attack, and take Liu's seeming demise off his mind. The car's hood was up, and as he got closer, Jeff was able to catch a glimpse of Troy trying to fix the engine.

"Yeah, our car's broken down and it needs to be towed somewhere it can be worked on. Yeah, we're on-"

Keith suddenly felt the phone cord wrapped tightly around his neck, Jeffrey strangling the life out of the boy from behind. The chuckle that sounded out from behind signaled to Keith that somehow, someway, Jeffrey was out of that hospital.

"I can't decide, whether you should live or die~ Oh, you'll you'll probably go to heaven, please don't hang your head and cry~"

The cord tightened around his throat, as Jeff softly sang into his ear, he desperately tried calling out to Troy, but the boy was unable to.

"No wonder why my heart feels dead inside, it's cold and hard and petrified!~ Lock the doors and close the blinds, we're going for a ride~"

Winchester eventually grew limp in the killer's arms, so Woods dropped him to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

"Hey, Keith! I think it's the timing belt, it got fucked all the way up!"

No response.

"...Keith? You okay?"

A series of hard thumps running up the car was the eventual response he got. Before he could even scream, the stick holding the trunk up snapped as Jeff jumped on top, crushing Troy's hands inside with a sickening crunch, the bones in his hands shattering under the combined weight of the heavy hood as well as Jeff's full body weight. Troy yelled at the top of his lungs in pain, his horror only growing as he saw the mess that was his assailant's face. Woods squatted down so he could talk to the poor bully face to face.

"Hi, Troy! How are ya? Hey, quit screaming, I'm talking here."

When Troy didn't stop, Jeff shook his head in annoyance.

"Okay, how about we teach you some anatomy, huh? It takes about.."

His bandaged hand took hold of one of Troy's ears, ripping it clean off.

"15 PSI to rip off a human ear. The same applies for both, actually! Why Mike Tyson was able to bite his opponent's ear off so easily."

As he talked, he ripped off his victim's other ear, reaching into his mouth as he cried and then yanking out his tongue, throwing it aside with disgust.

"That was your tongue, won't be needing that anymore..now, for the teeth! Good God, your teeth are bad..they aren't usually piss yellow, lemme just.."

Two punches to the boy's mouth and a face slam onto the car's hood loosened one of his front teeth enough that Jeff was able to yank out one of his front teeth, the blood flying out of the stump Troy once called a tongue soddening Wood's bandages with even more blood, to the point where they were beginning to fall off his hand and reveal the burnt, pale skin underneath.

"There! Now, it takes about 1,000 to 1,250 pound-feet of torque, or force if you're a neanderthal, to break a human neck! Here, I'll show you!"

Jeff then slid his hands into position, finally ending Keith's misery by breaking his neck, killing him instantly.

"I think this surgery went pretty damn well!"

The killer hopped off the hood of the car and continued down the road, his mission becoming clear in his head. It wouldn't be long before the police caught up to him, so before they found him, he needed to hit one last place.

Ingrid groaned as she made her way downstairs, having decided to crash at Jane's place for a bit since she recently got thrown out of her house. She began rummaging through the freezer when she heard the wail of several police cruisers speeding past.

"What's with all the cops at this hour?"

She went to look out the window, but a hand soon clasped over her mouth, a knife quickly slitting her throat as well. As her blood dribbled from her throat, her attacker spun her around so he could look at her..look at the girl Jeff felt he was replaced by.

"You..You took my Janey away from me..and now, she'll die for her nerve, to leave me when she knew I had issues, and you'll die for daring to touch her!"

3 more strikes to the neck followed, Ingrid's head coming clean off and rolling along thee floor after the 3rd slash connected. Jeffrey took a look around the house Jane brought him to when they were together during one of the only meaningful relationships Jeffrey had. So many hateful, vile thoughts ran through his head as he grabbed a canister of gas from the garage and 2 chairs. He used the chairs to barricade Jane and her parents in their rooms, before pouring the gasoline around the house. Jeff then struck a match he found in a kitchen, walking outside and carelessly dropping the matchbox as he went. He gazed into the small flame for what felt like ages, all the memories he had with this house flashing before his eyes as he threw the match on the gasoline. An inferno quickly started, Woods turning around and walking away as his former lover's house burned. 3 police cars soon pulled up to the burning home, the officers seeing the blood-soaked perpetrator of the crime calmly walking down the driveway.

#creepypasta #jeffery woods #liu woods #jeff the killer #clockwork #sully #tw so much violent murder omg #i think i went overboard

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imagine-docx · 4 years

Text

horrible father.

Summary: Single father Steve struggles to make ends meet and enlists the help of his neighbour to help raise his daughter while he boxes at night to be able to provide for his daughter. [singledad!boxer!]

Warnings: self shaming, also some suggestive content.

A/N: As promised in my last post, here’s the Steve fic 💛 - Amanda

»»————-　★　————-««

It was like clockwork, you would wake up, get dressed, dress Carmella, take her to school, go to work, have Steve pick up Carmella, care for her until you come home at around 6, Steve would go to work, and you would care about Carmella throughout the night.

You would have assumed that Carmella is your daughter and Steve was her father, and only part of that statement was right, Steve was her dad, but you were not her mom. Steve was the cute single dad who lived across the hallway from you. You felt bad as he was constantly working to be able to provide for Carmella, during the day he worked at Brooklyn Museum as a security guard 5 days a week, and during the night he was boxing at an underground club 5 days a week.

Carmella was the brightest 6 year old you’ve ever met, her long blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. She was an embodiment of Steve.

You remember meeting them the first day that they moved in, Carmella came over with the brightest smile and a basket of cookies from the bakery down the street. Steve was a sight for sore eyes, and you always wondered if her mom was in the equation.

That question was answered one night when you were coming home late from a night out with Nebula and Hope, and Steve was coming home at the same time.

His face had several cuts and bruises, and there were patches of dried blood around his mouth. Your heart hurt and invited him over to clean his cuts.

He sat on your couch, while you sat on the floor cleaning the cuts from his face, occasionally saying, “Sorry,” when he winced at the alcohol touching his open wound.

“You don’t have to do this, you know?” He asked, looking at you.

“I chose to. Did you want to shower? Then I can wrap your wounds,” you said, looking at him.

“Uh yeah, will you be awake? I don’t want to keep you up.” Steve said.

“Of course. I’ll leave the door open, welcome yourself in if I’m not in the living room.” You said.

As Steve was getting up, he reached his hand out to help you up off the ground. You took his hand and stood up, “I’ll see you in 20,” he said before leaving your apartment.

Once he pulled in the door behind him, you rushed to take a shower before he came back. You wore one of your old university hoodies and a pair of leggings and tossed your hair into a messy bun and headed back to the living room. Steve wasn’t here yet, so you turned on the kettle and waited for him to come back. He came back in a pair of sweatpants and a white shirt, “Where did you want me?” He asked.

“Anywhere is fine. Did you want tea?” You asked.

“Sure,” he responded, you took out another cup and placed a tea bag into the cup and met him back in the living room.

You were applying ointment to the cut near the cheekbone, “You went to Columbia?”

“Yeah, I majored in English lit and minored in astronomy. What about you?” You asked, applying more ointment to his face.

“I went to NYU, I did history and anthro. But I dropped out in fourth year.” He said, watching you unpeel the bandaid from the wrapper. “I had to care for Carmella, and it was hard to go between school and her. She deserves a good life, so I dropped out of school.”

You awed at the fact that he was willing to drop everything, especially so close to him graduating just so he can care for his daughter. “You’re doing great Steve, don’t be hard on yourself.”

“I’m a single dad, who works minimum wage at a museum during the day, and box for money at night. I can’t even see my daughter because I’m always busy working. She isn’t even home, she’s at Bucky’s house. Him and Nat practically raise her.” He muttered.

You took his face in your hands, “Steve, you are doing better than most dads. Some completely walk out of their kids lives because it wasn’t what they wanted. Some dads don’t buy their kids anything. You are trying your best and that’s all that matters. One day she’s going to look back and appreciate everything you did for her.” You reassured him.

He smiled sadly, and took your hand in his, “Thank you.”

“If you ever need anything, you can always bring Carmella over. I don’t mind having a buddy,” You smiled.

“I’ll think about it,” Steve responded. “So what about that tea?”

That same night you learned that Steve was in a relationship with a woman named Sharon who was a few years older than he was. She got pregnant, and couldn’t afford to risk her career for Carmella, and pressured Steve to drop out and care for Carmella. He popped the question and was planning to marry the following year, until he woke up one night and she was gone. From there on, Steve was constantly trying to provide for Carmella, leaving Carmella in the arms of Bucky and Nat.

»»————-　★　————-««

On weekends, you would try and steal Carmella for a few hours just for Steve to get some rest. Whether you were baking cookies and needed a sous chef, had to go shopping and needed a second pair of hands, or you knew a cute toy store and wanted to show her.

From there, Carmella loved you so much. She always slipped little drawings under your door, or were always pressuring Steve to drop off something from the bakery whenever they bought stuff. And it didn’t help that you always welcomed her with open arms.

»»————-　★　————-««

It was a Friday night and you had a half day at work, so you came home and cleaned up before making yourself comfortable on your couch.

You heard a knock on the door at around 7:45, and got up and saw a disheveled Steve. “Hey I’m so sorry to bother you. I’m pretty sure you have plans, but Bucky and Nat had something out of town at the last minute and there’s no one else to watch her. Could you-” Steve was rambling at that point.

“Of course I don’t mind watching Carmella.” You smiled, “Come on in love,” you cooed to Carmella.

Carmella was all bouncy and excited, “Can we watch movies and braid hair?” She asked.

“Of course, go in. I’ll meet you on the couch.” You smiled at her as she waltzed into your living room, you took the bag from Steve, “Did you bathe her? Or should I?” You asked.

He sheepishly said, “Could you?”

“Of course. Now, knock ‘em dead soldier. I’ll have your daughter tomorrow morning.” You smiled.

“Thank you,” he kept profusely saying while walking down the hallway and eventually disappearing.

You closed the door after he left and made your way to the couch where Carmella was sitting hugging her teddy bear. “Did you eat baby?” You said, guiding her to the washroom.

“No, can we get McDonalds?” She asked, looking up at you with her big blue eyes.

“Let’s both get cleaned up, and we can get dinner, okay?” You said.

“Okay.”

»»————-　★　————-««

You gave Carmella her bathe, and put her to watch Winx Club as you went to take a quick shower. Once you were done, you ordered her a happy meal, and got a nugget meal for yourself. The two of you sat in silence, munching on your dinner. Once you were done, you cleaned up and she snuggled into your side. Carmella eventually fell asleep, and you took her to your room. You barricaded the edge of your bed with pillows on one-side so she didn’t fall off, and your body was on the other side. You didn’t sleep, but took out the transcript for one of the articles you had to edit for work by Monday.

Eventually sleep overtook you and you fell asleep next to Carmella. The next morning you woke up to Carmella playing with the ends of your hair, “Good morning,” she murmured.

“Good morning love, you sleep okay?” You asked, and she snuggled into your chest.

“Yeah,” she murmured again, as you played with her hair.

“Why don’t we go clean you up? Then we can go see daddy?” You said, your fingers along her scalp.

“Okay.”

»»————-　★　————-««

Once you get Carmella showered, and you showered. You were hanging out in the living room. You heard a knock on your door and knew it was Steve. You got up and opened it to him barely scratched, but with two coffees, an apple juice and bag of bagels in his hand. He had a sheepish smile on his face, “Can I thank you with some breakfast?”

You giggled, “Come on in.”

“I didn’t know how you took your coffee, so there’s some cream and sugar in the bag.” He followed you into the living room, and sat with the two of you on the floor and enjoyed your bagels, while watching reruns of The Looney Tunes.

He helped you clean up, and left Carmella within eyesight to watch the cartoons on tv. “Thank you so much for watching her,” he said, washing the last plate and handing it off to you so you can dry it.

You took the plate from his hand, dried it and placed it in the stack that has to go back into the cabinet. “It’s not a problem, Steve.” You said reaching to put it back in the cabinet.

You turned about and he tried handing you $300 cash, “As compensation.” You shook your head, “I can’t accept that Steve.”

“Please, you didn’t have to care for her. Yet you still did.”

“How about you take that money and buy her some books, toys and whatever she wants. That’s the only way I would accept payments.”

“You got it sugar.”

»»————-　★　————-««

From there it was like Carmella was your own kid. You would watch Carmella at night, take her to school the next morning, head to work after dropping her off, have Steve pick her up at 3, feed her dinner and do homework with her, drop her off at your place at 8, and it happened all over again.

Steve didn’t mean to throw her into the mix, but she was always there to help. He always tried to compensate by buying you dinner or giving you money to get dinner for yourself. You would always spend that money on Carmella, whether it was getting her toys, buying her clothes or getting her personal care items.

Your boss gave you the afternoon off, you decided to head out shopping with one of your close friends Wanda, as she had the day off.

“You still caring for Carmella?” Wanda asked, and held up two different lace bodysuits, “Navy or white?”

“What colour do you own less of? And yeah, I don’t mind. I love the little pumpkin.” You said, searching through a different rack for pants.

“White. I never thought I would see you being a mommy in my life,” she teased. “Get the white one then. It’s a change of events for the both of us.” You laughed.

Wanda continued to interrogate you and your relationship with Steve as you two walked the mall. The two of you entered this small lingerie store and started browsing around. “Okay but why won’t you date Daddy Rogers?” she winked, you looked at her disgusted, “What? He’s an actual daddy, so you can call him that.”

Absolutely mortified, “That is absolutely disgusting and I can never say that word ever again because of you.”

“I aim to please,” she giggled.

“Honestly? Steve works so hard to be able to provide for Carmella, I don’t want to add another burden onto him.” You said looking at a black lingerie set, and running your fingers through it.

“The one time I was over, he looked at you like you hung the stars and moon, and he is willing to do anything for you.” Wanda said referring to the time Wanda came over in the middle of the night because her and her then boyfriend, Quentin had a massive argument and witnessed the two of you in the next morning.

“Are you saying that because he bought you French Toast?” You teased.

“Hey, he wins my vote because he bought me breakfast from The Golden Spoon. Hey, can you look at me real quick?” She said, you turned around, “Do you think Vis would like one piece or the two piece?”

You looked at the two, “Definitely the two piece.”

Turning back, you looked at a cute baby pink two piece lace and sheer set. You felt Wanda’s presence behind you. “He wears red, white and blue to the ring. Get something with his signature colours.

You felt your cheeks burn up, “And how do you know this?”

“Pietro went to one of his fights.” She shrugged it off.

»»————-　★　————-««

After your interrogative shopping trip with Wanda, you made your way home and expected Carmella to be over. You got your bed ready for Carmella and barricaded the side of her bed. It was 7:30 and you heard the door knock. Opening the door, Carmella’s little body made a beeline to your living room, not even greeting you.

Steve sent you an apologetic nod, “I’m sorry about that. She’s been acting up since I picked her up. She wouldn’t even talk to me, please try and get her to eat something.”

You nodded, “Of course. Good luck soldier, knock ‘em dead. Oh and, if you’re in need of a nurse, let yourself in.” You referred to the key you gave him in case he wanted to see Carmella one night.

He smiled, “Goodnight doll,” he said before walking off.

»»————-　★　————-««

You walked back to the living room and saw Carmella on the couch, hugging her white teddy bear so tight. “You okay love?”

She shook her head no, “How about we get you all cleaned up, get some chicken nuggets for dinner, then we can talk about it?”

“Can I have one of the sparkly baths?” She said referring to a bath bomb that you gave her the last time she was upset.

“Of course love, meet me in the washroom?” You asked.

Carmella nodded her head and went to the washroom and you went and grabbed one of the Lush bathrooms from the closet next to the washroom. Upon going to the washroom, you turned on the water to her usual temperature. “Can you come in?” She asked, looking down.

“Whatever you want love.”

The blue, pink, yellow and violet sparkly water surrounded the two of you. You leaned against the cold porcelain of the tub and watched her play with the usual duck and doll she has when she bathes. “Aunty?” She called out.

“Yes sweetheart?” You asked.

“Does daddy love me?” She asked.

“Of course he does sweetheart, why would you think that?” You asked brushing some of the blonde hair out of her face.

“I was talking to these girls and said that, ‘daddy doesn’t love me, that’s why he doesn’t want to hang out with me.’”

You looked at her and noticed how sad she looked, you ran your hand through her hair, “Sweetheart, the way daddy talks about you, is like you are the only person he loves. He loves you more than you can imagine.”

“Then why doesn’t he spend time with me?” She asked softly.

“He is working to make sure you can get all the toys, and clothes, and books you want.” You responded, and she crawled onto your lap and snuggled herself into your chest. “He wants to make sure you’re happy. You being happy makes him happy.”

“So daddy does love me?” She asked.

“Of course he does sweetheart.”

“What about mommy?” Carmella asked, peering up at you with her big blue eyes.

“I don’t know your mommy, but I bet she loves you. Who couldn’t love you?” You asked.

“Why doesn’t she hang out with me?” Carmella said, sadness evident in her voice.

“She might be busy, sweetheart. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you,” you tried reassuring her.

“Do you love me?”

“Of course sweetheart. I love you more than you love Mr. Snuggles,” you said, booping her nose.

She snuggled closer into your chest, “As long as you and daddy love me, I’m happy.”

“Alright love, how about we get you all showered and we can get you the nuggets I promised you?” You asked.

Carmella nodded excitedly as you drained the water. You gave her a fresh bath, applied lotion to her and put her in some new Hello Kitty pyjamas. You left her in the living room with Paw Patrol on the tv before taking a shower for yourself.

Upon getting out, you noticed Carmella sitting on the floor playing with one of her dolls waiting for you. Shooting her a questionable look, she responded, “I missed you.” Letting out an awe, you kissed her head and proceeded to moisturize yourself and put on a shirt that you stole from Steve and some baby blue shorts.

You ordered McDonalds like you promised, and the two of you watched Space Jam. Once Carmella was done, she cuddled into you like normal. By the time the movie was done, Carmella was fast asleep. Picking her up, you put her in bed and barricaded both sides of her.

»»————-　★　————-««

You couldn’t sleep so you just decided to edit one of the novels that you had to get done by the end of the month while some wrestling reruns play in the background. You were so submerged in your reading, you didn’t notice that it was nearing 2:30. “Whatcha reading doll?” He asked.

You jumped and he chuckled, “Something for wo-” When you looked at him you noticed he was bruised and bloodied, “Oh god! Steve, go to the couch, I’ll clean you up,” you ushered him to the couch while you rushed to get the first aid kit.

You came back and got right to work on trying to clean his cuts. You apologized every time he winced when the alcohol touched his cuts. “Did Mella ever talk to you about what happened?”

“Yeah, she’s better now,” you said cleaning the cut close to his jaw.

“Some girls at school made her upset, so I had to tell her it was okay,” you said while dowsing another cotton ball in rubbing alcohol.

“What did they say?” He asked, you didn’t wanna say, so you stayed silent for a minute. He looked at you with his bright blue eyes, the same way Carmella would do it, “Please?”

“They were saying that you didn’t love her.” You said, hoping he didn’t hear you. He groaned, “No, no, no.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t want her to feel unloved. I just wanted to be able to provide for her, not have her think I don’t like her. I’m a horrible father.”

“You are not a horrible father, okay?” You said, looking at him, “You do so much for her that she doesn’t realize yet because she’s so young. You try your absolute hardest to make sure she’s happy, even if that hurts you in the process. Do not listen to what a bunch of seven year olds have to say. They don’t know what you go through to make her happy. I bet their dads don’t do half of what you do.” You said reassuring him.

“Thank you,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze. “Can I borrow your shower? Then you can wrap me up?”

You nodded. Steve got up and helped you up. You finally realized how close to two of you are. One of his arms snuck around your waist and pulled you closer, your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. Before you could understand what was happening your lips moved in harmony against his.

You broke the kiss when you needed air. He rested his forehead against yours and pecked your lips, which resulted in you letting out a giggle. “Go shower, you smell like sweat.”

“Alright, alright. But hey doll, how about next Saturday, I drop Mella off at Bucky’s, and I take the night off from boxing and take you on a well deserved date and maybe you can show me some of that red lingerie you bought.” You were confused as to what he was referring to, until you saw where his eyes were looking.

The black bag that contained the lingerie set you bought with Wanda earlier today, “How did you…?” You looked at him.

“I may have taken a peak,” he sheepishly said, leaning down and giving you another peck.

You let out a groan, and punched him in the shoulder. “Go shower.” “I may be a boxer and take beatings, but damn doll that one hurt.” He said, before making his way to the washroom.

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stark-lupin · 4 years

Text

Photographs (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

Nat x Reader

Idk what this is but it is very sad smh.

Y/F/N = Your Father´s Name. italic is the flashback

They were gone, your parents. The three of you always were close, they supported you, no matter what. You wanted them back, just so you could spend more time with them again. Your job as Avenger took so much time of your days, and when you had a day off you wanted nothing but sleep.

You feel a hand slip in your, intertwining your fingers. You look up to see the most beautiful green eyes look back at you, your fiancé looked lovingly yet slightly concerned at you. She loved your parents as well. And they loved Natasha like she was their daughter.

You know she´s trying to be strong for you, she knows how much it pains her, so she can´t even imagine the amount of pain you feel.

You get lost in her eyes as you get flashbacks from the day you introduced Nat to your family years ago.

Your very nervous girlfriend of 6 months comes in the room in a red, lovely, short (not too short), summer dress with flowers on it.

“Hey, do I look good enough for your parents” she asked, rather anxiously. You pecked her lips softly, while cupping her cheeks, you look her in the eyes and tell her that she looks perfectly fine, no matter what she would wear, your family would love her, you knew it.

After a bit more of you convincing her, you were ready to go. You wore a black top, with a red and black flannel shirt, black ripped jeans and your converse, you weren´t the kind of person to wear shorts. You grabbed your leather jacket and Nat´s hand, gave it a peck and went outside to your car.

The ride to the family barbecue was nice, as usual, the two of you conversed a bit, music always running in the background.

You arrived at your parent´s house just an hour later, arriving exactly at the time you mom told you to. Your other relatives were yet to come, which gave your parents and Nat the opportunity to get to know each other a bit.

You took her hand once again in yours and lead her into the backyard, where your parents were still preparing everything a bit. As soon as you walked in Sammy started to bark. Your beloved Husky, well it really is your parent´s. You patted his head a bit and he turned to Natasha, tail still wagging happily. Natasha bent down and patted him as well.

“Well aren´t you a good, pretty boy huh?” she cooed at him, which caused his tail to wag even more. You smiled and mock offendedly said “And here I was thinking you are MY girlfriend.”. She smiled as well and turned to you, you kissed her forehead and were about to go to greet your parents, as you heard your mother´s voice.

“Y/F/N they´re here! Come outside.” Your dad being the man he is simply asked who, but walked out with your mother, nevertheless.

You met them in the middle, while you expected your mother to greet you instantly with her motherly hug, she turned and greeted Natasha, catching her off guard, but after a moment of realization she hugged back. You and your dad shared a look and hugged as well, you loved his hugs, they always made you feel safe.

Breaking apart your dad told your mother to cool down and let Natasha arrive properly, saying she was probably scaring the poor girl off. Your mother then stopped caressing Natasha´s cheeks and turned to give you a hug, while scolding your father and defending herself that she was just complimenting their daughter´s lover. With a roll of his eyes he chuckled and gave Natasha a gentle hug as well, she returned it immediately, getting that your family is one for those.

The four of you finished preparing everything and slowly the other parts of your rather big family started to turn up. After a while your cousins arrived with their kids, who were more than happy to see you.

Everyone was being very welcoming to Nat. You both appreciated that, even though you didn´t doubt that one second. Natasha even seemed to enjoy this family gathering, that surprised you a little, not too much.

Everyone chatted happily and time moved fast. Everyone was now gathered on the several sofas, chairs and the floor, around the fireplace, you sat on a sofa with Natasha in your lap and a beer in your hand, taking a swig every now and then. Listening to a story one of the kids told you.

The air started to freshen. The kids now all inside either playing or sleeping. While the adults kept on chatting happily. You noticed Natasha shiver slightly and took off your leather jacket and put it around her shoulders.

Time was still moving on so fast and soon it grew a little quieter, even Natasha got really quiet, cuddled up into you. Deep in a conversation with your father about settling down and starting a family. You would love that, but the world needed you and Natasha so that would have to wait.

“Dad I really think she is the one. Each minute that passes I love her more. I would get her the moon if that is what she wanted. She makes me feel so light and down to earth. She is my safe zone dad, I love her.”. He smiled at you and nodded at Nat. She fell asleep, just like Sammy, who was curled up at your feet.

When you looked at the Russian beauty, she was fast asleep, looking as peaceful as ever. Your dad handed you a blanket and you lied it on top of the two of you. You kissed her forehead and whispered an “I love you” in her hair. And then went back to talking to your family. What you didn´t notice, was that your mom took a picture of you two.

Eventually you grew tired as well and your parents insisted that the two of you should spend the night here. The sofa in the living room was free, big and comfy enough for one night and apparently, they still had few t-shirts and sweatpants and your old favorite hoodie, so you didn´t have to sleep in a jean and a flannel.

After a bit of them convincing you, you agreed and said your good nights, picked Natasha up and carried her inside, she had to sleep very well, because usually she would wake up at that. You laid her on the sofa, got something to wipe off her makeup and did so. Then you changed her into a pair of sweats and one of your t-shirts and tucked her in. After you got changed you joined her. You slung your arms around her, kissed her neck and fell asleep.

You were broken out of your trance like state, when you felt someone cupping your cheek and wiping away tears, you didn´t realize you shed.

You tried to smile at the person that you loved so much but only managed a pained very little smile. The assassin took your hand in hers yet again and continued to draw patterns on the back of your hand.

After burying them and your very emotional speech, your whole family went to a restaurant to eat. Everyone chatted and several times someone came up to you and hugged you, intentionally making you feel better, but really it just made you miss them more.

You frown after you realized that, meanwhile you were talking to someone who came to you to tell you they´re sorry and whatnot, Nat left your side. Looking around the room you spot the redhead talking to the kid you talked to at the party.

The little boy seemed to tell her a story and Natasha smiled at him the best she could. Nodding every now and then and looking genuinely interested.

You decided to join them, so you went over to where they are stood. You slipped your hand in Nat´s and greeted them. Suspiciously your cousin´s little son ran off after telling Nat to stick to the plan. And not after telling you that you should retie your tie. You tried to but failed miserably.

Natasha saw that you started to grow frustrated and did it for you. When she was done, she kissed your lips, lingering there for a moment, then she pulled away. But you could still feel them. She studied your eyes and then started to make her way over to the exit.

God, she knew exactly that you couldn´t stand to be here for another minute. She led you to your car and got in the driver’s seat. You were beyond exhausted, so you fell asleep rather quickly, thinking you would drive home, which would take some time.

To say it confused you when Natasha woke you up just 20 minutes later was an underestimation. When you looked outside you realized where you were. In front of your childhood home. She got out first, coming to your door to get you out, you were once again in a trance like state. But you managed to pull out of it as you felt the cold January wind hit you in the face.

You walked in; the door already unlocked because Nat went ahead. Sammy, who was a lot older now as well came to greet you. He could tell you were sad. So, he licked your hand, which was just hanging by your side as you stood under the doorframe.

It still smelled like them; everything basically was the way they left it, that means that Nat, who was coming here to feed Sammy and walk him and take care of him every day, did a good job. You would have to thank her for that later.

Meanwhile Nat was here taking care of the Husky, you stayed at the Avengers compound, most of the time on the sofa staring off space. Wanda checked on you, so did Tony and Steve but you just waved them off. Wanda knew what you felt, and it made her sad. But the three of them promised you fiancé to take care of you. Made sure you ate and slept and showered and didn´t let yourself down. They did a relatively good job.

But now you both were here. Alone in a house that feels like home but also strange. You went to find her.

On the sofa was where you found her. She had something in her hands. She looked at you, telling you to take a seat, you did.

A photo album was in her hands. You didn´t know that one though. The two of you opened the book, your mother´s neat handwriting saying, “Happy Marriage”, beneath it both of their handwritings with their signatures.

You teared up, a few tears dropping on the book.

The two of you cuddled up and kept on going through it, picture after picture, most of them were secretly taken of you and Natasha. Some of them with your parents in it. Under many pictures was a little text saying something about the day or the picture.

The very last picture was taken years ago, the two of you on the sofa, cuddled up, sleeping. It was the same night your mother took the other picture outside by the fireplace, that one was next to it.

“Y/N you told me that you think she is the one, your mother and I think the same. We know that Natasha will always love you and protect you. You two belong together. With lots of love, dad” …”Ouch your mom slapped my arm because I didn´t write that we both love the two of you, BUT THAT`S OBVIOUS”. You could almost hear him chuckle after that. You would have laughed at that, if you didn´t feel sobs racking through your body and Natasha´s.

You felt home in her arms, even more in this house. You both cried for a while until you calmed down and started talking about moving into this house and having barbecues here. And doing anything to honour them.

Natasha fell asleep, cuddled up to you, your arms slanged around her, you kissed her neck, told her you love her and fell asleep.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #avengers x reader

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anarchyduck · 3 years

Text

In Another World

Day Three: Soul World

I’m two days behind now, sobs

AO3

----------------------- “Mr. Stark?”

“I don’t feel so good.”

“I don’t want to go. Please, please-”

“I’m sorry.”

Peter Parker wakes to the sound of his alarm going off.

Blindly, he reaches out from beneath the blankets, groping around on the side table until he finds his phone and shuts it off. His hand retreats and he groans, turning his face to bury it into his pillow. Maybe if he’s lucky, he can sneak in just a few more minutes of sleep…

“Peter!” May calls and knocks on his bedroom door. “Get up or you won’t have time for breakfast.”

So much for more sleep.

Peter groans as he drags himself out of bed. Everything feels weird, like he’s slept too long and forgot what day it is. He rubs the sleep from his eyes as he stumbles around to find clothes, dragging a t-shirt off the floor to wear. The wrinkles will drive May nuts so he grabs a hoodie to wear over it.

He wanders through his morning routine with still that nagging feeling that something isn’t quite right. Something is missing or he forgot something. A test? Blind panic hits him hard as he scrambles to remember. No. No test. Peter relaxes and manages to finish brushing his teeth before another crisis hits.

“Coffee is ready.” May announces from the kitchen. Peter can smell toast (slightly burnt, the strawberry jam jar is open) and rich hazelnut coffee, the scent filling the apartment.

It takes him a second to remember. May doesn’t drink hazelnut coffee.

“Hon, have you seen my-oh never mind.”

That voice. Peter knows that voice. It’s unmistakable. He could be suffering from amnesia and still recognize that voice.

Heart pounding, he turns the corner from the hallway to the kitchen and-

“Uncle Ben?”

Ben Parker looks up and flashes one of his half grins at Peter. “Morning. See you haven’t combed your hair again.” He pockets his car keys and ventures into the kitchen for coffee.

Peter trails after, stunned but unable to explain why. Of course it’s Ben. Why wouldn’t Ben be here?

“Oh, Peter…” May appears in front of him, tsking under her breath as she attempts to tame his wild bedhead. “Did you at least brush your teeth? Honestly, you and Ben are absolutely hope- Peter? Honey, what’s wrong?”

Peter’s eyes burn, his chest tight with some unexplained emotion. “H-Huh?” he blinks, focusing on May as she looks at him with concern.

“Are you hurt? Headache?” May lays her palm on his forehead and cups his cheeks. “You didn’t get hurt last night did you?”

Peter’s brows draw together. “L-Last night?”

“While on patrol?” May steps back to give him a proper look over. Searching for hidden wounds or bruises he failed to disclose.

Patrol. Patrol. Oh. Patrol. Spider-Man.

But wait, then that means-

“Maybe I ought to take you to the gym sometime.” Ben says as he pours coffee into his thermos. “Teach you some old boxing techniques and how to fight properly.” He stirs in some sugar and creamer. “Stark’s fancy gizmos can’t save you from dodging a real punch, you know.”

Well there’s a lot to unpack there. Peter can’t keep from staring at his uncle. His mind scrambles to keep up, to put the pieces back into place. It all seems right and yet, he feels something is off. It’s right but it isn’t.

“Peter?” May is still standing in front of him, worrying. She brushes curls from his face. “Maybe you should stay home today, just in case.”

“No, no I’m fine May. Really.” Peter reassures, even managing a small smile. “Think I slept weird or had crazy dreams, that’s all.”

“The boy is fine, May.” Ben says then looks at Peter, “Grab some grub for the road, kiddo. I’ll drop you off.”

Peter falls into routine, grabbing a piece of toast and protein bar (one Tony made up for him, he recognizes the packaging). “Bye May!” he calls out as he follows his uncle out of the apartment.

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

He can’t shake the weirdness. It clings to him like a second coat. He also can’t stop stealing glances at his uncle. There’s a little voice in his head that says it isn’t right, that Ben shouldn’t be here. Yet here he is in the flesh. Driving him to school.

“So you didn’t sneak out last night?” Ben asks, breaking through Peter’s thoughts. They stop at a red light, sun shining through a break in the clouds.

Peter shakes his head. “No. Promise.” he says.

Ben hums and nods. His hair looks a little grayer than Peter expects. Which is weird because what else did he expect? For Ben’s hair to not be grayer? Grayer compared to what? “You’re going to the Tower today, right? After school?”

Peter nods. “Yeah. Mr. Stark wants my help making some gear for Natasha.”

“Black Widow, huh?” Ben lightly whistles. “Boy, if I were only twenty years younger.”

“Ben!” Peter laughs.

“I’m just saying! She seems like a mighty fine woman.”

“She can be super scary sometimes. Moves even quieter than I do.” A memory flashes in Peter’s mind, of being in the tower with the other Avengers. Training with Nat, hanging out in the kitchen while Steve cooked, sitting down to the table to enjoy a meal together. They play like scenes from a movie reel and he feels strangely detached from it.

His chest tightens with strange emotion again. He closes his eyes as they begin to burn. His other senses take over. The smell of Ben’s aftershave and cologne. The way the brakes squeak when they stop at another red light. They’re in Ben’s car and he wonders how it could be possible. They got rid of Ben’s car after… after…

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

“Dude I can’t believe you get to work on Avenger gear!” Ned whispers loudly.

"It's only cool the first time." Peter says. He shoves books into his locker, ignoring the crumpled up papers at the bottom that continue being squished and crinkled. "The novelty wears off after the fiftieth Widow Bite."

"Whatever man, it's still awesome."

Peter stands at his open locker for a moment, staring at it's interior as he tries to think of what textbook he needs for his next class. What is his next class…

"Oh, did you ask your aunt and uncle if you can come over this weekend?" Ned asks.

Aunt and uncle. Aunt and uncle. Why is that phrasing so weird?

"Pete? Did you hear me?"

Why can't he shake that feeling that something isn't right?

"What's up losers?" Michelle's voice snaps him out of his thoughts and Peter quickly shuts his locker before she can see the mess. "Decathlon's been canceled for the day. Harrington is out sick."

"Oh." Is all Peter can say to that. Come to think of it, several teachers are out today. How weird. "Maybe it's the flu."

Michelle shrugs her shoulders. "Yeah maybe." She says. A group of upperclassmen pass by the trio, giggling and talking loudly enough to draw Peter's attention. Michelle narrows her eyes slightly and she asks, "Have you guys noticed anything weird?"

Ned shakes his head. "No. Like what?"

"Don't know yet." Michelle replies cryptically. "Something just feels off today."

The back of Peter's neck itches and tingles, and he reaches back to rub the spot. If MJ notices something then maybe there is more going on. "Maybe you slept wrong?" He suggests lamely.

Michelle gives him a look then scoffs. "Yeah, slept wrong. Sure."

The warning bell rings in the half empty hallway.

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

Peter walks out of Avengers Tower to find his uncle's beige Toyota Corolla waiting for him. It surprises him to see it then he wonders why it should. Ben always picks him up after lab time at the Tower.

"Hey Petey!" Ben greets as Peter slides into the passenger seat. "Have a good time?"

"Yeah," Peter replies as he puts on his seatbelt. "We got a lot of work done." Now if only he could remember exactly what that work was. He remembers Ned and MJ at school, being picked up by Happy and then working with Mr. Stark. What did they work on? He can't remember. The entire event is a blur.

"You aunt is suggesting Thai for dinner tonight." Ben says as they get on the road.

"Sounds good." Peter replies, not really listening. Why can't he remember lab time? He can see Tony's face, plain as day, so why can't he remember what they did? Is he getting sick? Come to think of it, he can’t remember Happy picking him up from school. An old memory plays instead, something he knows already happened in the past but definitely didn’t happen today. It feels more like he’s watching an event play out rather than being part of it.

"Uncle Ben? Do you ever feel like you're missing something?" Peter asks finally.

"Like what?"

"Like," Peter sighs as he struggles to explain without sounding crazy. "Like you know something is off? Like something isn't… right?"

Ben hums and doesn't respond. The car rolls to a stop at a red light, silence stretching to the point of being unbearable. When Peter finally looks at his uncle, he finds the old man staring at him with an unreadable expression.

"You're very smart, Peter." He says. "You've always been smart, you know? Even when you were little."

The tightness in Peter's chest worsens. The back of his neck tingles. "Uncle Ben?" He asks with uncertainty. Something isn’t right.

"We had hoped you wouldn't notice." Ben continues.

Peter frowns

“What-”

Peter blinks and, when his eyes open, he's no longer in the car.

He's back at the apartment, sitting on the couch. Star Wars: A New Hope plays on the TV and a bowl of warm popcorn sits on the coffee table before him. The light above the stove is on in the kitchen and he can see the pale blue light from the nightlight in the hallway. The apartment is quiet. He can’t sense May.

"This was your dad's favorite too." Ben says beside him. “We saw it in the theaters when it came out.”

Peter takes a shuddering breath and swallows past the lump in his throat. "Am I dead?"

"Yes and no." Ben pops some popcorn into his mouth.

"But you…" Peter's voice catches in his throat, tears burning his eyes. "You're…"

"Dead." Ben nods solemnly. “Yes.”

It hits him harder than it should. A flashback to a dark night, a mugging gone wrong, and Ben laying on the concrete covered in blood. Peter pleaded with him, begged him to stay, to hold on, that help was coming. But Ben died anyway. Peter went home with blood on his hands.

“I’m so sorry, Ben.” Peter says with a strangled sob. “I-I didn’t want you to die. I didn’t know… I didn’t mean…”

“Shh,” Ben shushes and Peter feels himself pulled forward, his face buried against soft cotton that smells like wood and leather. A scent that brought comfort when Peter was scared, that taught him how to hold his fist, who gave him wisdom even when he didn’t understand the meaning of it.

Ben’s voice rumbles deep in his chest as he continues holding the sobbing boy. “I’m so proud of you, Peter. Always have been. Just look at all the good you’ve done with your life. And I know, your parents are proud of you too.”

Peter sobs freely against Ben’s chest, clinging to him tightly. If it hurts, Ben doesn’t say anything. He continues holding him, rocking with him gently like he used to when Peter was small. He cries until he can’t and, even after the tears dry up, he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t notice the movie is no longer playing or the bright orange that takes the apartment’s place.

Ben sighs then. “We don’t have much longer.” he says.

Peter lifts his head, eyes red and tears marking his face. “What do you mean?” he asks. A childish fear takes him and he holds Ben’s shirt. “I don’t want you to go. Please, Ben, stay. Stay with me and May.”

Ben’s hand lands on his shoulder, squeezes it as he meets Peter’s gaze. Despite the tears in his eyes, Ben smiles. “We’ll be together again. I love you, Peter.”

Peter sniffles and he puts his hand over Ben’s. “Love you too, Uncle Ben.” He manages a tearful smile. “I’ll make you proud. I promise.”

Ben’s smile widens as the yellow-orange light brightens around them, surrounding them in it’s glow. Peter keeps his eyes open as long as he can until it becomes too bright, until the brightness forces him to close his eyes.

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

Peter Parker wakes to the orange skies of Titan.

#webpril 2021 day 3 #peter parker #ben parker #may parker #aunt may #ned leeds #michelle jones #mj #spiderman #mcu #duckie's writing

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captainenjolras · 4 years

Text

ThorBruce fic! Mostly fluff, maybe a little angst.

Summary: Thor throws Bruce an actual birthday party!

⚠️Slight TW for mentions of child abuse (barely tho but just in case)⚠️

“What’s that?”

Bruce looked over to where Thor was pointing. In a neighbors yard, he could see a bounce house, children running and about five boxes of pizza.

“Oh, it’s a birthday party.”

The scientist continued walking, unaware that his boyfriend was still watching.

“Thor,” asked a puzzled Bruce once he noticed that Thor’s hand wasn’t in his, “what’s up?”

“I’ve never seen a birthday party like that,” beamed the god. “Is that what they do here on Midgard?”

“Oh, yeah; you’ve seriously never seen one?”

“Well, I’ve had birthday parties back on Asgard, but they were never like this!”

“What were they like?”

“A bit more formal.”

“Ah; yeah here it’s just kinda a fun, casual day.”

“Did you ever have a birthday party,” asked Thor once they started walking again.

“Hmm? Oh, not really.”

“How come?”

Bruce tensed up a little when Thor asked him that. The god instantly remembered the reason and tried to change the subject.

“Anything interesting happen at work lately?”

“Umm, not really.”

The scientist tried to had the sadness in his voice, but it wasn’t really working. Still, Thor tried to cheer him up.

“One time on Asgard, Fandral and I were hunting and we thought we saw a bear! But guess what? It wasn’t! It was just a really hairy man!”

Bruce tried his best to give a genuine laugh, but he felt like he just couldn’t. Guilt washed over Thor as he watched his boyfriend put on a fake smile.

“Bruce,” he started, once they reached the crosswalk, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to bring...that...up. I should’ve realized. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Bruce assured him sorrowfully. “You didn’t know.”

“Hey, your birthday is in a week. I’m gonna make sure you have the best birthday of your life.”

“You don’t have to do that,” chuckled the scientist sadly. Thor places a gentle and caring hand to the mans cheek before speaking again.

“I know. But I want to. You deserve it. Bruce, you deserve the world. I love you.”

“...Thanks, Thor, but you don’t need to waste your time to celebrate just another day.”

“But it’s your birthday!”

“Birthdays happen everyday; why waste your time on mine? It’s fine, I just wanna...can we maybe head home now?”

Thor scanned the shorter mans anxious and sad face before nodding and taking his hand.

“I love you, Bruce.”

“I love you too, Thor.”

——————————————————————————

“Stark!”

Tony jumped at the sound of Thor’s booming voice.

“Jesus- I told you not to do that.”

“Many apologies; I need your help with something!”

“What’s up?”

The mechanic turned away from his work to see Thor standing a few feet away, notebook and pen in hand.

“...Is this an interview?”

“No, I just need to ask you a few questions.”

“That’s an interview, big guy.”

“Oh.”

“...So what do you need to know?”

“Do you know what Bruce might want for his birthday?”

Tony smirked before turning back to his work.

“He’s your boyfriend, Pointbreak. I hoped you’d know what he liked.”

“Oh, I do! I just didn’t know if he maybe told you anything that he wouldn’t mention to me, cause you’re bestrfriends and all.”

“He wants a ring on his finger,” mumbled Tony jokingly.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing; he never really mentioned anything. Maybe Nat would know? They’re real close.”

Thor thought for a minute before giving the mechanic a smile.

“Thank you, Anthony! Enjoy your work!”

——————————————————————————

“So you want us to help you come up with ideas for a gift for Bruce?”

“If you wouldn’t mind!”

Clint and Nat looked at each other before shrugging and turning back to Thor.

“Sure,” said Clint. “What were you thinking of?”

“Well, I’m not quite sure; that’s why I came to you guys!”

“Well,” started Natasha, taking the book and pen from Thor’s hands and drawing out columns, “let’s start by making a list of gifts that are “go” and “definitely not.””

“Good idea!”

“What’s some stuff he likes?”

“Well,” beamed the god, “he really likes The Office! He also really likes yoga and reading! Oh, and animals! And science, obviously! There’s also space, Disney, Broadway, the color purple, that one movie with the five kids in detention, flowers, the little house plants that Stephen has a lot of, old books, baking-“

“Let’s start with The Office.”

“Ok!”

“You could get him some merch, like a mug or hat.”

“That’s actually a good idea,” added Clint, taking the notebook and writing something down.

“And for yoga and reading,” said Nat, “you cold get him some books and a yoga mat.”

“That could work!”

“Any other ideas?”

“Well, Tony said something about a ring.”

“I-“

“Does Bruce like children, Thor?”

Nat slapped the man up the back of the head before turning back to Thor.

“You could get him a promise ring.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a ring couples get each other sometimes, kinda like to show the other that they love them.”

“I like that idea!”

“So you think you’re gonna settle with that?”

“Yes! Thank you, Natasha! Thank you, Barton!”

——————————————————————————

“You want me to help you bake a cake?”

“If you will.”

Loki thought for a minute before looking up at his brother from his spot in the couch.

“If I give you the instructions, would I still have to help you?”

“No, I’m pretty sure I could handle it from there!”

“...Alright. Give me a piece of paper and a pen.”

Thor handed Loki his notebook. The other god looked down at the writting in confusion.

“Why do you need a mug, a mat, a book, a ring and children?”

“I don’t need children, Barton wrote that.”

“...What is this for?”

“Bruce’s birthday is soon!”

“Wait, you want ME to help YOU make a birthday cake?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Thor, I’m a trickster. You really trust me to help you make a cake for your boyfriend?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my brother!”

“...Trickster g- never mind. Just give me a pen.”

——————————————————————————

“Good morning, love.”

Bruce smiled as Thor pressed a kiss to his curls.

“Morning, Thor.”

“Happy birthday!”

“...That’s today?”

“Yes, silly!”

“Oh.”

“Here, let’s go to the living room; I have something I think you’ll like.”

Thor led his still sleepy boyfriend into their living room, covering his eyes as to not spoil the surprise. Once they reached the couch and sat down, Thor began to speak.

“Before I remove my hands, I need you to close your eyes. Now, I know you said I didn’t have to do anything for you today, but...that didn’t feel right. Over the week I had help from our friends to find something I’d think you’d like, and I came up with this. Ok, I’m removing my hands now, but PLEASE keep your eyes shut.”

Bruce nodded and closed his eyes as Thor’s gentle hands left his face. He heard the god walk away and quickly come back, standing between him and the coffee table.

“Open your eyes, love.”

The scientist slowly opened his eyes to see Thor holding a bunch of gifts. He couldn’t help but gasp a little at the action and let a small smile spread across his lips.

“You...you got this for me?”

“Of course! Would you like to see what I got?”

“Y-yes!”

Thor handed him one gift, which was wrapped tightly in paper. Bruce tore open the wrapping and admired his new books.

“Oh my god! Thor, thank you!”

“Would you like to see the other gifts?”

“Duh! You got more?”

“Of course! Here, I think you’ll like this one!”

The god handed the shorter man a bag, still balancing all the other stuff in his large arms. Bruce removed the tissue paper and pulled out a “worlds best boss” mug. What really made him smile though was the fact that Thor has crossed out “boss” and wrote “boyfriend.”

“Oh my god...”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes,” smiled Bruce, I little chocked up. “I love it.”

After the mug came a new yoga mat, a purple hoodie, a few succulents, a Disney movie collection, a Breakfast Club T-shirt, and a pack of glow-in-the-dark stars. Bruce was smiling wider than ever as Thor finally took a seat next to him.

“Thank you so much, Thor! I’m literally about to cry, I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve the universe, Bruce...and there’s one more gift.”

Bruce shook his head with a laugh as he looked at his already many gifts. When he turned back to meet Thor’s eyes, the god was holding a small box.

“...What’s that?”

“It’s a promise ring,” smiled Thor as he opened the box. “Natasha told me that here on Midgard, couples get this for each other to show that they love each other. And I love you, Bruce. I love you more than anything.”

The scientist stared down at the small silver ring that his boyfriend held before looking back up with tears in his eyes.

“...Thank you, Thor. I-I love you, too. Oh god, I-“

Bruce wrapped Thor in a hug, resting his chin on his shoulder. The god placed a hand on the back of the scientist’s head and held him close.

“I love you so much, Bruce.”

“I love you too, Thor. Thank you so, so much. This is the best birthday ever.”

“It’s still not over. Also, there’s cake in the fridge.”

Bruce let out a small, genuine laugh before closing his eyes and melting into Thor’s hug.

#thorbruce #thunderscience #gammahammer #thundersmach #thorhulk #thruce #thulk #thunderhulk #bruce x thor #thor x bruce #thorbruce fic #my second fic hope yall like it #doctorthunder #brucethor #hulkthor

36 notes · View notes

mynachopaper · 4 years

Note

Heyo...I’d like you to answer all of the weird questions that say a lot please...😇🖤

That’s very naughty of you. I expect payment when I’m done...

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

Wine glasses. I love their shape

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolate

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

Bubble gum, I like the oral fixation

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

Wierd, creepy, creative. “He needs to find an outlet or have a beating”- My arabic teacher

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

Glass bottles

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Tomboy

7. earbuds or headphones?

Headphones

8. movies or tv shows?

Both

9. favorite smell in the summer?

river in the cedar forest

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

Fencing

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

Nothing (sometimes fruit if I need to)

12. name of your favorite playlist?

SHmood

13. lanyard or key ring?

key ring

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Turkish delights

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

Simon versus the Homosapien agenda

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Legs to my chest on a chair

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

My trainers

18. ideal weather?

Thunder and rain

19. sleeping position?

Curled up on my side

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Notebook but laptops are great for convenience

21. obsession from childhood?

Horror stories and or occult (Yes I cringe too)

22. role model?

Don’t have one

23. strange habits?

I like to practice voices and movements (mostly for DnD) anywhere. Shopping, cooking, with the cat. normally I’m on my own but I’ve been caught a few times.

24. favorite crystal?

Obsidian

25. first song you remember hearing?

Wide, wide as the ocean- My dad sang it to me as a kid

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Swimming

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

Bonfire jumping (used to do it with the scout kids)

28. five songs to describe you?

Fall into me- Alev Lenz

Rush- I am waiting for you last summer

Smile- Nat King Cole

Limb to limb- Fatal

Kiss breakdown- Micheal Brook (Perks of being a wallflower soundtrack)

29. best way to bond with you?

Discuss your passions and your fears. Other than that, play silly games with me.

30. places that you find sacred?

Anywhere that is deemed so.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

My pajamas (honestly no idea)

32. top five favorite vines?

Don’t have favourites.

33. most used phrase in your phone?

I love you to the moon and back.

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

I have adblock so I don’t hear enough for them to get stuck. Maybe the old spice commercial.

35. average time you fall asleep?

12-1am

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

The orly owl

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

Duffel bag

38. lemonade or tea?

lemonade

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Lemon meringue pie (obviously)

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

Nothing too weird. We did have a slew of dead birds that were killed and placed in weird positions. They were claimed to be omens.

The culprit was never caught. But I did have an old journal where I kept notes on them. I lost it in the move though..

41. last person you texted?

My online friend in the uk

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Jacket pockets

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

Hoodie, I need the soft

44. favorite scent for soap?

sandalwood

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy, DnD for life

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Shirt and underwear

47. favorite type of cheese?

Brie

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

Orange

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

Already answered

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

When my friend and I got stuck in traffic so we listened to the John Mulaney story about the salt and pepper diner. Afterward we actually made the playlist and listened to it. We died, the song got to us and we lost our minds.

51. current stresses?

My Father being ok back home. Me not finishing uni. Breaking my promise to my friends back home of making something of myself.

52. favorite font?

Bree Serif

53. what is the current state of your hands?

Their ok, quite dexterous. My nails have grown out too

54. what did you learn from your first job?

People take production for granted. The public opinion of a show means little. The entertainment industry is weaker than everyone treats it.

55. favorite fairy tale?

The Bloody Chamber

Book by Angela Carter

56. favorite tradition?

Our family does breakfast in bed for the birthday person

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

Self harm, the invasion of my country, getting out of my old life.

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

I improvise well, I remain calm in an emergency, and am often the first to act. I have good emotional skills. I will always find a way, though it often comes at great cost.

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

After someone tells me I can’t do something “HAVE YOU MET ME?!”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

Probably Shonen. Love me some JoJoBA

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

Yeah, I stayed. I stayed, because every time you threw a brick at my head, or said I smelled, it *hurt*; but it could never hurt more than every day of my life just being *me*! I *stayed* because I thought, if anyone can change me, can make me... *not* me, it was you! - Kung Fu Panda

62. seven characters you relate to?

Tarzan-Stich-Quisimodo-Ginger (From Chicken run)- Po (Kung fu Panda)- Mulan (Yes really)- Charlie (Perks of being a wallflower)

63. five songs that would play in your club?

Shut up and dance with me- Walk the moon

Suzy- Caravan Palace

Rocket Fuel feat. De La Soul - DJ Shadow

Come with me now - KONGOS

Dance with me tonight - Olly Murs

64. favorite website from your childhood?

Miniclip

65. any permanent scars?

Some on my arms and a large one on my forearm

66. favorite flower(s)?

I’m a cliche, I love roses

67. good luck charms?

My Celtic ring and my pride pin

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

It was chocolate shrimp in Sanfrancisco. Fad food with an abhorrent mixture.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

Spiders don’t kill every prey that falls into their web. Sometimes they just wrap them up and let them squirm helpessly.

70. left or right handed?

Right, unless eating

71. least favorite pattern?

Uh... not sure

72. worst subject?

Maths

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

Fries and Icecream

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

I was 5

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

Baked potatoes, especially with Sour cream and garlic

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

A succulent?

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Sushi from grocery

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

School Id (not by much though)

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

Jewel tones

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

Fireflies

82. pc or console?

83. writing or drawing?

Writing, though I wish I could draw

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Podcasts

84. barbie or polly pocket?

Neither

85. fairy tales or mythology?

Mythology

86. cookies or cupcakes?

87. your greatest fear?

That I had no impact on anything

88. your greatest wish?

To gain the power to change the world

89. who would you put before everyone else?

The one I love. A partner (If we had a child then it falls to them)

90. luckiest mistake?

When I had an accident at work over my selfharm wounds. Some metal staging scraped against my arm.

91. boxes or bags?

Bags

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

Fairylights

93. nicknames?

Teddy, Monster, Quis

94. favorite season?

Winter

95. favorite app on your phone?

Reddit is fun

96. desktop background?

My current Pfp

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

2 My parents

98. favorite historical era?

Don’t really have a favourite

9 notes · View notes

diner-drama · 4 years

Text

Cuddle Buddies (1/?)

"Cuddle Buddies: professional platonic cuddling therapy services for the busy modern professional" are an entirely legitimate organization serving the touch-starved. Look, it's just been a long time since Steve's been in a relationship, and a guy has needs, you know? Sometimes after a long day of being a strong, hard-nosed solicitor, weathering insults and attacks from the opposing counsel and your own coworkers, you just want to have someone stroke your hair and tell you you're good. Bucky loves his job as a professional cuddler, providing non-romantic physical touch to people that need it, and when his new client turns out to be a pint-sized spitfire with a smile to die for, that's just a bonus.

Also on ao3.

"Rumlow, if I wake up tomorrow to find out that you've thrown my client on an airplane and deported her in the middle of the night I will have your ass in front of the bar association before you can blink," barked Steve into the phone held between his ear and shoulder, trying to get his keys out of his pocket one-handed. "You really think they're going to let this slide after last time?"

He paused for a second as the person on the other end of the line made a few abortive attempts at a response, then cut him off. "I'm turning off my phone now. If you still want to talk in the morning after considering my offer you can call me then, but if you pull any of your bullshit in the meantime, I will fucking ruin you."

Steve hung up the call with a flourish and shouldered his front door open, throwing his phone into a basket on an occasional table before closing the door behind him and leaning against it, rubbing his eyes exhaustedly. Being a hard-ass human rights lawyer was all very well and good during the work day, but by the time he got home Steve was more than ready to shed his tough persona and let himself be soft.

The suit jacket was the first to go, shrugged off his slim shoulders and slipped onto a hanger. Then, his smart, shiny shoes were slipped off and replaced with warm, thick socks. He swapped his starched shirt for an old, lived-in hoodie, and his neatly pressed slacks for sweatpants. His black briefcase found a home in the spare room he used as an office, and he shut the door after it, mentally shutting away his work life. He ran his hand through his smartly-combed hair to muss it up and rolled his shoulders back, taking a few deep breaths and letting the stress of his day roll off him.

He wandered around the living room, picking up a blanket from the steamer trunk by the window, drawing the curtains, and switching on the electric fireplace which filled the space with warmth and low, flickering light. He picked up his personal phone from the coffee table and sent a quick text to Sam to let him know he made it home safely, sent a thumbs up to Darcy in response to a terrible meme she'd sent him, and briefly considered video calling Peggy before remembering that she was in a conference in Singapore.

He flopped down onto the couch and wrapped himself up tight in the blanket, enjoying its weight on his shoulders. Opening his laptop, he coughed in embarrassment when the tab that he'd opened in a fit of loneliness last night popped up. "Cuddle Buddies: professional platonic cuddling therapy services for the busy modern professional" seemed to be an entirely legitimate organization serving the touch-starved, and they had excellent reviews.

Look, it's just been a long time since Steve's been in a relationship, and a guy has needs, you know? Sometimes after a long day of being a strong, hard-nosed solicitor, weathering insults and attacks from the opposing counsel and your own coworkers, you just want to have someone stroke your hair and tell you you're good. Steve did his best to keep his work and home lives separate, but lately it was getting difficult to switch off from his worries when he was lying in bed at night, going over details from his cases while he tossed and turned on his pillows.

He scrolled through the information on the website one more time, thinking about how it might feel to invite a stranger into his home to cuddle him. Would it be uncomfortable? Would they think he was pathetic?

Putting aside the laptop for a minute, he ambled back into the kitchen to re-heat some shepherd's pie and put on the kettle for a cup of tea, climbing on a step stool to reach the mugs. His fingers and toes still a little chilly from the crisp autumn evening outside, he decided to fill up a hot water bottle, tucking it carefully into its fluffy case and holding it under his arm as he brought his dinner and drink back to the table. After a couple of bites of the pie, he pulled out a neat little wicker basket from under the table and took out his evening medications. Tapping the pills into his hand, he swallowed them with a gulp of tea and took a couple of huffs of his steroid inhaler for good measure, before getting back to his meal.

Steve may have lost the genetic lottery when it came to his height and his abysmal health, but the gods had seen fit to bless him with more than his share of sheer, bloody-minded scrappiness, which he felt more than made up for it.

Once he'd cleared the plate away and made himself a second cuppa, he opened up a book on his e-reader and held the comforting, warm weight of the hot water bottle to his chest, wondering idly, not for the first time, whether he should get a cat. He was a couple of chapters into a mediocre romance novel when he started tapping his fingers, thinking.

After a brief moment of indecision, he grabbed the laptop with renewed certainty and began to type a request into the website.

Bucky was just waving goodbye to Nat as he walked away from their session when his phone chimed, alerting him that there was a new customer inquiry that the agency wanted him to look at.

Maria: 28 yo man in Red Hook interested in trying cuddle therapy to help with work stress. Would prefer male therapist. Due to asthma, no cologne or scented products, and non-smokers only.

He smiled, and shot off a quick affirmative response. Maria often sent him their new clients - there was something about him that reassured people if they felt a little unsure about the services. Bucky was perfectly happy with his chosen profession - non-romantic physical touch was, in his opinion, essential for a happy life, and he got to provide it to people that needed it. Bucky liked to observe people and through his job he'd met a wide array of curious characters, so the work was never boring.

Also, the pay was amazing and Alpine would only eat the expensive cat food, so there was that.

He continued on his journey, enjoying the changing leaves on the trees around him and the chill in the air. Just as he was about to step onto the subway, his phone buzzed again, and after he found a seat he saw that Maria had sent him the phone number for his new client. He sent off his standard greeting straight away, eager to get his schedule firmed up.

Bucky: Hi Steve, this is Bucky from the Cuddle Buddies agency. When works for you for our first meeting? Looking forward to working with you!

Steve: Thanks for getting back to me. Saturday evening would be best for my schedule. Can I pay the $80 fee via bank transfer? -Steven Grant Rogers, Shield Solicitors

The response came immediately, and was far more businesslike than his usual interactions with clients. Still, Bucky could be businesslike. He even owned a tie.

Bucky: You sure can - the agency should send you out a contract tonight with the bank details. I can do Saturday at 7 if that suits.

Steve: Saturday at 7 sounds fine. What are the terms of the contract?

Of course, Mr. Lawyer Man wanted to know about the contract.

Bucky: It lays out what to expect in our interactions - we provide purely non-sexual services - as well as how to deal with cancellations, how we protect your privacy, and the billing structure.

Steve: Thank you. I look forward to meeting you on Saturday.

Bucky shook his head, wondering how this stuffy, formal guy was going to act during their cuddle session.

Steve didn't have the opportunity to start feeling anxious about his cuddle appointment because the negotiations with the lawyers at the ICE detention center took up every moment of his time. He was wrapping up his conversation with a client via email in his home office when his alarm chimed to let him know that he had half an hour until Bucky arrived.

After stretching his arms over his head, wincing at the tightness of his shoulders after slouching all day, he stripped out of the pajamas he was still wearing and indulged in a long, hot shower, scrubbing away his stress and emerging pink-cheeked and fluffy-haired. In his bedroom, he changed into a soft blue flannel shirt and a pair of pants that looked like slacks but felt like sweatpants, and another pair of his warm, fuzzy socks.

Pacing around his living room, his nerves ramping up, he selected a different blanket to leave ready on the couch and checked twice on his selection of teas. He had just put the kettle on to boil when the buzzer sounded.

On opening the door, he was immediately reassured to see that Bucky had a friendly, engaging grin, and was wearing a soft, knitted sweater. He held out a hand to shake and then immediately felt like an idiot, but Bucky just grasped Steve's cold hand with his warm one and squeezed it.

"Hi, you must be Steve," said Bucky with a pleasant Brooklyn drawl. Without being asked, he pulled a Cuddle Buddies ID card out of his pocket and handed it over to Steve, who checked the details on it and handed it back.

"Nice to meet you," said Steve stiffly. "Please, come on in. I'm just making a cup of mint tea, do you want one?"

"That'd be perfect, Steve. Mind if I take my shoes off?"

"Go ahead," replied Steve with a thin smile, attending to the whistling kettle.

"Thanks," said Bucky when he accepted his cup of tea. Steve couldn't help but notice that Bucky was wearing mis-matched but co-ordinating socks, one with red stars on a white background, and the other with white stars on a red background. He ushered Bucky to take a seat on the couch and sat in the armchair opposite. Bucky's posture was loose and open, but Steve was sitting bolt upright and jiggling his leg nervously. Fortunately, Bucky chose to take the lead in the conversation.

"So, I usually start first sessions with clients by talking about what your goals are for therapy," he began with a reassuring smile. "For example, some clients are looking to feel more comfortable with physical touch, some want to get over a breakup, or reduce stress, and some are just looking for companionship."

"I guess the companionship and stress things," said Steve after thinking for a moment. "My job takes a lot out of me, so I don't really have the time to pursue a relationship, but I do miss that human touch."

Bucky smiled gently, as though what Steve had said wasn't anything out of the ordinary. "What do you do?"

"I'm a lawyer, I mostly represent people who are in danger of deportation," said Steve automatically.

"That sounds rewarding," replied Bucky encouragingly.

"It is," agreed Steve, "but it's incredibly draining. I have to be so hard and tough all the time. Sometimes I think it would be nice to just be..." He tailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence.

"Soft?" supplied Bucky.

Steve smiled, feeling more comfortable despite his misgivings. "Yeah."

"Thank you for being so open with me, Steve," said Bucky, reaching over to squeeze Steve's knee. "If you don't have a particular preference for how we start, how about you join me on the couch and I put my arms around you. Does that sound good?"

Suddenly shy, Steve nodded and moved to sit next to Bucky, who immediately wrapped his big arms around Steve's shoulders and pulled Steve into his broad chest. As requested, Bucky wasn't wearing any fragrance, but he still smelled good, like fresh laundry and crisp autumn air, with an undercurrent of clean skin.

As he relaxed into Bucky's embrace, Steve tried to remember the last time he'd been held so gently. He was a regular recipient of Sam's big bear hugs and Darcy's chest-crushing squeezes, but he hadn't had a long-term romantic partner since law school, and his career didn't leave him a lot of free time to look for one.

"How does that feel?" asked Bucky in a low, soothing voice, gently rubbing at Steve's shoulder.

"Really good," breathed Steve.

"I'm glad," said Bucky gently. "How about I lie down on my back here and you snuggle up to my chest?"

Steve nodded his assent and Bucky released him slowly, and then rolled over to lie along the couch, opening up his arms so that Steve could slot himself in to rest his head on Bucky's warm chest. The knit of his sweater was soft against Steve's face, and one of Bucky's big hands came up to cup the back of Steve's head, rubbing small circles at the base of his skull with his fingertips.

"Thanks for not wearing cologne," said Steve, sounding muffled.

"Pal, I think you sneezing in my face would be worse for me than for you," laughed Bucky, the sound rumbling through his chest.

"It's not my sexiest move," agreed Steve, burrowing deeper into the soft warmth of Bucky's body.

Steve hadn't expected that conversation would carry on easily while they were cuddling - he predicted awkward silences and a feeling of general embarrassment - but they continued chatting while Bucky carded his fingers through Steve's hair, and he felt himself dropping deeper and deeper into a calm state of relaxation.

"So why'd you become a lawyer?" asked Bucky in a low voice, barely breaking into the spell he was casting over Steve.

"Ma came over here from Ireland to work as a nurse," replied Steve drowsily, "and when my pa died, she ran into some trouble with some of her immigration paperwork. There was a lawyer who worked pro bono to stop her from getting deported... the guy really changed our lives."

"So now you help other people the same way."

"I try to. How'd you get into professional cuddling?"

"After I got out of the army, I used to go for counseling sessions at the VA. Took a couple of years, but eventually I started on a course to be a counselor myself. A lot of those guys are so touch-starved, you know? My friend got the idea to start up a cuddling service and I jumped at the chance. It's been my full-time job for three years now."

Digesting this information, Steve was silent for a moment. He wouldn't have pegged Bucky as a soldier given how open and relaxed he was, but Sam didn't seem like an air force pilot, so you never knew. He cast around for a follow-up question. "Are there a lot of cuddling agencies in the world?" he settled on eventually.

"Oh yeah, it's a real growth industry. There's even a book called the Cuddle Sutra."

Steve scoffed. "You're kidding me, people write books about this stuff?"

Bucky cuffed him gently on the back of the head. "Shut up, punk. That's my profession you're besmirching."

"Are you allowed to tell your clients to shut up?" smirked Steve, never happier than when he was being a little shit.

"Only if they're being a punk," grumbled Bucky, wrapping an arm around the back of Steve's shoulders to pull him closer.

Over the course of the next forty five minutes, Steve learned more about Bucky's family, his asshole cat, his collection of semi-dead succulent plants, and his opinions on the present administration of the country. Bucky managed to wheedle Steve into talking about the bullying he faced at work, the stress of not having as many resources as he needed to help everyone he worked with - and he very nearly managed to get him to disclose his mother's recipe for shepherd's pie, and was only stopped by the threat that the ghost of Sarah Rogers would haunt him until he died.

Between the cozy warmth of Bucky's body, the soothing cadence of his voice, and the way his minty breath ghosted over Steve's forehead when he chuckled, Steve was pretty much in heaven, wrapped up in comfort. When Bucky's phone started to vibrate in his pocket, they both let out a little noise of annoyance.

"'Fraid that's my alarm. How'd you enjoy your first session?" asked Bucky, still stroking lines down Steve's back.

Steve hummed contentedly. "Worth every penny," he replied, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head.

"I'm really glad," said Bucky sincerely, squeezing his shoulder before standing up and heading towards his shoes. "Same time next week?"

"That'd be perfect. Thanks, Bucky. For everything."

"No problem," he replied with a genuine grin, fishing his phone out of his pocket. "Now I'd better call Maria before she gets the cops after me to make sure I haven't been murdered in a back alley somewhere."

"I'm glad they care so much about your safety."

"I love my job," laughed Bucky as he let himself out the front door, waving goodbye to Steve as he put the phone to his ear.

Steve spent some time smiling and waving like a goof until Bucky rounded the corner, at which point he finally shook himself awake and shut and locked his door. It was only eight PM but after a few nights of fractured sleep he was ready to follow his relaxed, sleepy feeling straight to bed.

After he pottered around the room, straightening up and putting things away, he brushed his teeth and jumped onto his big, comfortable bed, where he rolled himself up in his comforter like a burrito. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

#stucky #my fics #cuddle buddies

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honestandsincere · 5 years

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when the party’s over pt 3

“Y/n, where are you?”

Grayson hears a soft giggle on the other end of the line as if y/n finds her predicament embarrassingly humorous.

“I don’t actually know,” her speech is broken into fragments by little hiccups, “I just showed the Uber driver the address Nat texted me and hoped he would know.” “Can you send me the address please?” Y/n snorts and rolls her eyes, “The party’s over, Grayson. Everyone’s going home.” “Yeah, and how are you getting home?” “I’ll walk.” Grayson runs a hand through his hair and sighs at her drunken delusion and overestimation of her own ability. He can hear y/n’s soft breaths through the phone, envisaging her intoxicated self in all her adorable glory. “I’m not letting you walk home alone. Text me the address, y/n.” “No! It’s ok because I really enjoy walking and it’s not raining and I haven’t been to the gym in ages so maybe this is like-” “Y/n. The address.”

There’s a huff and he knows she's biting her lip in irritation. “Did it ever cross your mind,” she hiccups, “that maybe I don’t want you to pick me up?” Grayson feels his heart begin to hammer inside his ribcage, his face suddenly feels hot and his fingers that hold his phone to his ear tense up. Maybe it hadn’t crossed his mind, maybe it should have. He blocks the surge of insecurity with a cocky facade he hopes she won’t be able to decipher. “Why’d you call me then?” “Tradition,” she mumbles and he hopes she feels caught out by his deflection of the embarrassment.

“Text me the address. I’ll come pick you up.” “It’s fine, you don’t have to. You’re probably really busy right now and I don’t want to drag you away from whatever or whoever you’re doing.” Grayson scoffs, “Jesus, y/n! I’m literally in bed right now, I’m wide awake and I am coming to get you. Text me the address.” He clambers out of his bed, wedging the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he pushes on his sneakers. Y/n is silent, picturing Grayson whispering sweet apologies to the girl in his bed as he rolls his eyes at his liability of a best friend. She feels sick and it’s not because of the drink. She wishes it was, wants an external source to be the reason she can’t think straight. Y/n may be blindly inebriated, but when it comes to Grayson Dolan, everything is crystal clear. It’s nauseating.

“Y/n? You still there?” he speaks softly. “Yes,” she says begrudgingly, unable to ignore him for much longer. “Where are you, angel?” Y/n was accustomed to his pet names by now, she’s learned to strip them of any sentiment. He drops them into conversation more often than she’d like him to. Loving something a person does but simultaneously hating it with every fiber of your being becomes incredibly tedious. “I told you I’m fine.” “Yeah I’m sure you are, but it’s cold and you’re alone and I don’t want you walking back here.” Y/n realizes something as he speaks, “I don’t think I should see you,” she declares. Grayson furrows his brow and swings open the door of his room, tiptoeing into their shared living room in fear of waking Ethan and Cassie. They’d stumbled through the door maybe half an hour ago and each bee-lined for their respected bedrooms, vision swimming and fingers fumbling with their sets of house keys. “Why shouldn’t you see me?” Y/n pouts and whines like a child that’s been denied something they’ll later find out is ridiculously trivial, “Because I don’t like getting upset.” “Not many people do, bub.” he chuckles in confusion. “Yeah but you make me upset, Grayson Dolan.” Grayson’s eyes scan the living room as if to search for something to say or something to feel, “How? Whatever I’ve done just know it wasn’t or isn’t intentional, now will you please just text me the address?” “This isn’t about the address! Stop asking me for it!” she whimpers. Grayson takes a few deep breathes and closes his eyes in frustration, “Look, y/n. I’m not gonna shout because Cass and E are sleeping right now, whatever it is you wanna talk about, we can sort it in the Bronco. Got it?” Understanding that he is as stubborn as her, y/n groans, “Fine. Just don’t have any girls in your bed when I get back, ok?” “What the fu-”

The line goes dead. He then feels his phone vibrate with a message as she sends him a screenshot of her text message from the demi-god that is Nat the senior. Running a tired hand over his face, Grayson stuffs his car keys that he’d left on the kitchen counter into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Girls in my bed,” he murmurs in incredulity before heading out the door.

Y/n has made a seat for herself on the curb of the sidewalk a few yards from Nat’s house. She’s pulled her denim jacket tighter around her frame and shoved her hands into its pockets to keep them from going numb. It’s been around ten minutes since she decided that hearing Grayson Dolan’s sleepy drawl was too excruciating for her sobering ears. She curses herself for calling him in the first place, what possessed her? She didn’t need to speak to him. Frankly, y/n didn’t want to speak to him either. But there’s always been this little nagging voice in her head that tells her to pick up the phone and speak to him. It has been their tradition to call one another as whatever event they’re at comes to a close, but it’s been different since Grayson’s been different. Y/n had thought that maybe talking Dostoyevsky to the best of her ability with some overtly intellectual seniors would have eased the pain of not having him around a little. It didn’t. If anything it made things worse. Every time the front door would open, her heart would jump a little, her mind tricking her into thinking that maybe Dolan had crashed the party along with some more of his lacrosse friends. Nat’s on the lacrosse team.

Y/n’s bottom lip juts out involuntary. She shouldn’t be this upset. This scenario was always going to be inevitable. When things go undefined, as time progresses the harder it is to define them. Y/n thinks she learned this the hard way. As she and Grayson teetered on the borderline of friendship, any hope of them trying to figure out what was actually going on between them slowly dissipated.

The rumble of his engine draws her attention from the concrete to the Bronco that’s headed towards her. With a tired grimace, y/n rises to her feet and dusts herself off with a dizzy head. The lights of the vehicle are blinding so she shifts her gaze to her feet. The hum of the car slowing down in front of her forces her to look up into the slightly panicked watch of Grayson Dolan. Y/n glares at him and opens the door, clambering into the warmth of the Bronco without saying a word. Grayson has one hand on the steering wheel, the other rests on his thigh as if he was expecting to same some kind of discussion before needing to drive off.

“Nice to see you too,” he says jokingly in an attempt to erase the scowl on her face. Y/n crosses her arms over her chest and rolls her eyes, biting her tongue before she can tell him that she hates that she might be in love with him. “You had a good time?” Grayson doesn’t shift and neither does y/n, “Everyone behaved themselves?” Y/n doesn’t respond and Grayson (unlike most his age) takes the hint. They drive in silence for a few minutes before he clears his throat. “Look, if I’ve done something to upset you, I’m really sorry.” Nothing. “Whatever it is, I didn’t mean it and you know I wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt you.” Still nothing, not even a look of acknowledgment. “Y/n, you mean so much to me and I never wanna see you this way, especially not when it’s-” “You don’t get it!” she snaps, turning to him. Grayson keeps his eyes on the road, despite the distraction, “Make me understand then. Tell me what’s going on!” “This is infuriating!” y/n’s head lolls back as she whines. “Tell me about it!” he laughs bitterly. “Stop acting as though you don’t know what you’ve done.” He shakes his head, “I know you’re pissed right now, but here’s the thing; I have no idea what the fuck you’re on about!” Y/n brings her bottom lip into her mouth as he raises his voice. Unable to concentrate properly, Grayson pulls over onto the sidewalk of a quiet street, unbuckles his seatbelt and faces her. He takes both her hands, which have now become weak fists, into his despite her struggle to pull away. “Tell me what’s going on, y/n. You’re killing me over here.” She can’t persuade herself to look at him. He’s just too much. A sickening amalgamation of all good things in life that she should desperately want, and she does. “Please,” he whispers. “Do you think we’re friends?” she asks him, looking up into his eyes that are a soft copper in the glow of the streetlight. “Course I do,” he runs his calloused thumbs along the back of her palms. “But we’re not, Gray. At least, I don’t think I’ve ever thought of us as friends. Like, I don’t see you the way I see Ethan or Cass or Kelly or Daniel.” “I understand, we’re like best friends.” She laughs at his innocence, shaking her head, “Best friends don’t get jealous.” “I’m not jeal-” “Not you,” she feels her cheeks begin to flush, “me.” “What have you got to be jealous of, y/n? You’re like the best thing since-” She can’t believe she’s about to say it, heave her heart into her hands and just give it to him. But it’s about time and she’s not sober which makes for a brilliant combination. “When you started bringing girls home, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so envious in my entire life. No, it wasn’t even jealousy. I was hurt.” Y/n watches as his face blurs from confusion into a pained expression, “I didn’t know.” His hair flops adorably over his forehead, his hoodie sits perfectly on his muscular frame and his hands are still warming her cold ones. Y/n is encompassed by Grayson Dolan and it’s excruciating. “Exactly, and looking back I don’t understand how I thought maybe you’d know. I guess it was because everything was reciprocated.” She looks down at their entangled fingers, examines the way his thick ones slot perfectly between hers, her eyes focusing on his signet ring. Y/n shouldn’t have gone to Nat’s party. She shouldn’t have touched the drink. She shouldn’t feel things for people and expect them to know exactly what it is she wants. Grayson is quiet, his mouth opens and closes as if he’s about to say something but can’t figure out exactly what might ease the situation. He didn’t imagine it happening like this. The whole confession thing. “And I didn’t know how to tell you, I didn’t want you to change around me. But I could hear you talking to these girls through the wall and it was awful because I just want-” “You could hear me?” “Well yeah. Not just you; Lindsey and Lauren and Kyra and Amy. But I fell asleep before you guys got round to doing anything, don’t worry.”

Her cheeks grow red in embarrassment.

“Doing anything?” She scoffs, “Don’t play dumb, Gray.” “I didn’t sleep with them, y/n,” he whispers. “That’s what Cass and Ethan said.” “And you didn’t believe them?” “It didn’t make sense.” His thumbs stop their little circular motions and he tugs on her arm as if to get her to look up at him. She does. “Elaborate.” “You want me to think that you brought all these girls home from parties just to sit and talk in your room?” “Yeah, because that’s what happened.” “Why?” “Because I didn’t want to do stuff with Lindsey or Lauren or Kyra or Amy. They’re not you.” Grayson realizes that this is all incredibly anticlimactic. There’s no fireworks, or epic soundtrack or the silky voice of a narrator masking the sounds of their breathing. He’d just sort of told her everything and she’s staring at him with the blankest of expressions. “The furthest I’d go with them is maybe kiss or just invite them back to ours because it felt better coming home with someone than walking through that door alone.” “They all sounded so nice.” “Don’t get me wrong, they’re really great girls, I just felt sick thinking about getting with someone that doesn’t make me feel the way you do. Y/n frees one of her hands from his grasp and reaches to push some hair that’s threatening to fall over his eyes. It’s soft, but she wasn’t assuming it wouldn’t be. Grayson basks in her touch, loving the way her tipsy fingers fumble their way back to his. She slides the ring he got from his grandfather up and down his index finger, twisting it around, uncertain of what to say. “Tell me you like me back,” Grayson mumbles, "tell me there isn't anybody else. That you're not fawning over some senior with good hair." "I like you back," she looks at him like he'd hung every constellation in the sky especially for her, "I've always liked you." "There's no one else?" "Nobody." "Not even Nat?" "Nat doesn't hold a candle to you, Gray. You know that." "I didn't when you brought him home that one time." he shrugs. She squeezes his hand tight, "You think I'd want Nat when you're around?" "I dunno, the guy's a genius and he's sick at lacro-" "Stop talking. You've got me and I've got you now. I don't care about anything else." "You're not gonna wake up tomorrow with a killer headache and major regrets?" he quirks an eyebrow at her, a tantalizing smirk on his full lips.

"Not if I'm in your bed, G."

The third and final part! I’ve loved writing this story because it honestly was such a random idea that hit me whilst I was listening to a study playlist on spotify. I’m more than willing to continue to do little concepts or blurbs based off of these characters if you guys want them? I hope you’re all having a wonderful week! - K xox

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avengerscompound · 5 years

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Bringing Home Kobik - 3

Bringing Home Kobik: A Winterhawk Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton

Word Count: 1505

Rating: E

Warnings: Smut on the series (M|M, oral, anal), the aftermath of torture, PTSD, mentions of child abuse

Synopsis: When Bucky decides to try to get legal custody of Kobik he meets resistance due to him being a single man. Clint steps up as a co-parent to help with the process.

Art by @bexlie-draws

Chapter 3

Construction started on the new living quarters for Clint, Bucky, and Kobik immediately. Bucky was shocked by how quickly Tony had agreed to it. It became evident when the construction started on the other side of the compound to the rest of the living quarters that Tony was scared having Kobik too near the others would be dangerous. Bucky considered explaining to him that it didn’t matter where Kobik was located in the Universe that if she wanted to hurt you, you weren’t safe. In the end, he’d left it. It didn’t bother Bucky if he was away from the others. If Stark felt better having them away from everyone else, so be it.

Beside the way it was being set up looked like it might be possible to give Kobik a backyard of sorts and if she could play outside like a kid, with a swing set and a sandbox and chasing Lucky around, maybe she could just be a kid and not a cosmic cube that has the chance of changing all of existence on a whim.

Clint… was still a problem. Bucky wasn’t thinking about much outside of what he needed to do to get Kobik to the tower and living with him. All the usual things that kept him awake at night had just been smothered with this project. He would have assumed that those brief moments when he wasn’t thinking about Kobik, he would go to those dark places he always went to. His torture. The way he was used as a weapon. Who he was now this had happened to him.

Instead, it was going to Clint. Not just in that ‘I don’t quite understand why he is doing this’ way. Which yes, that was happening a lot. Sometimes he just thought about what he was doing right now. If he was hanging with Nat or practicing archery. If he was worried about what being a dad would be like. What specifically being a dad to a personified cosmic cube was like. If he’d seriously fuck it up and end up destroying the world. Sometimes he thought about the comment he made about buying him dinner first. If Bucky asked him out to dinner would he say yes? Did Bucky want to ask him out to dinner? He’d not thought about sex or relationships since HYDRA got him, he thought that part of him was broken. Why on god’s green earth was he now finding himself thinking about dating Clint fucking Barton like that of all the people he’d met.

Sometimes he just thought about his arms. Clint had great arms.

As the legal processing started to get closer to being complete, and it really looked like this was going to happen, Bucky with Steve’s help managed to get permission to visit Kobik where they were keeping her.

He dressed down. Wanting to look like a dad, rather than a soldier or guy about to go to a hearing about his drunk driving charge. He put on a henley and dark grey hoodie over jeans and tied his hair back. He took the Quin and stood quietly behind Steve as they let them through the layers and layers of security. He just wanted to hit them upside the back of the head and yell at them. Tell them they were crazy if they thought they were safekeeping her down here like this? That this was exactly what you did to make sure no one was safe anywhere from her if they treated her like this.

He knew that if he did that he could kiss all hope of that little girl ever getting the normal life she needed and he desperately wanted for her. So he just shut up unless directly spoken to and tried not to look like he wanted to murder every single person he came in contact with.

When they opened the door to the windowless room Kobik was being kept in he smiled the first genuine smile he had all day. The room was not great but she did have toys and a TV with a collection of Disney movies on Blu Ray. Her bedspread was princess themed but in shades of blue and she sat coloring at a pink plastic table. Her white hair was in two pigtails and when the door opened she looked over with a smile on her face that only got bigger and more full of love when she saw it was him.

“Bucky - Buckaroo!” She squealed running over to him and flying into his arms. He closed them around her and hugged her tightly spinning her around. “Where ya been, Bucko?”

“They wouldn’t let me come see you until now.” He said, his face buried in her hair. Bucky wasn’t really a crier. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had cried. He felt like it now though. Like all the stress of this whole process was about to bubble up and pour out of him right now.

When he put her back down he set his face into a warm smile though. “I’m here now though. I think they’re gonna let you come home with me pretty soon.”

“Really?” Kobik asked grinning up at him. “Will I get my own room?”

“You sure will,” Bucky said, crouching down next to the little girl.

“Will it have a window?” She asked.

“Definitely,” Bucky answered. “And a yard. I’ll get you swings and a bike.”

“I don’t know how to ride a bike,” Kobik said.

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you.” Bucky said. “Not everyone is good at everything right away.”

“I am,” Kobik said simply.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“Will you be my dad, Buckaroo?” She asked tapping him on the cheek with one of her small hands.

“Sure will. You don’t have to call me that though. Not if you don’t want.” Bucky said.

“I might want to. Will there be a mom too?” She asked.

“No. Another dad though. He’s why they’re letting me do this.” Bucky explained. “You don’t have to call him dad either.”

“Who is it?” Kobik asked narrowing her eyes. She trained her sights on Steve who was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “Is it him?”

“No, that’s my buddy, Steve. He’ll be around though.” Bucky answered. Steve waved at Kobik and she looked back at Bucky. “The other guy’s name is Clint. He’s a little bit annoying. But he has a dog and he likes to eat pizza.”

“He has a dog?” Kobik asked, her eyes lighting up.

Bucky took out his phone and opened up a photo of Lucky. “Yeah, his name is Lucky. Or maybe it’s pizza dog. I’m never sure.”

Kobik took the phone off Bucky and looked at the photo. “He only has one eye.”

“Yeah. He got into a fight looking after Clint.” Bucky said.

“He’s brave like you. You think he might want me to fix it?” She asked.

“He might. You’ll have to wait to meet him. I bet he’ll like playing with you either way.”

Kobik held the phone up to Bucky. “Is there a photo of Clint.”

Bucky nodded and flicked to another photo of Clint perched up on the edge of the couch.

“Doesn’t he know how to use a chair?” She asked.

“I don’t think so,” Bucky answered with a laugh.

“I’ll teach him.”

Bucky ruffled her hair. “You can meet him soon. I promise. You have to keep being good until then. Have you been good?”

Kobik nodded enthusiastically. “I didn’t even use my powers one time, even when they tell me I have to. Just like you said.”

Bucky smiled and pulled Kobik into his arms, kissing the top of her head. “Good, girl. Not too much longer, I promise.”

“Will you read stories to me?” Kobik asked.

“Of course. Every night.” Bucky said.

“Can you read to me now?” She asked.

Bucky smiled and looked back at Steve who gave a quick nod. “Sure. What do you want?”

“Figment?” Kobik said jumping up and down and waving her hands over her head. The comic book floated off the shelf and over to Bucky.

He smiled as he snatched it from the air. “It’s been a long time since we read this one, huh?”

“It’s my favorite,” Kobik said her eyes glowing as she floated off the ground in excitement.

“Powers, Kobik,” Bucky said sternly. She drifted back down and ran and jumped on the bed. “I like it too. So let’s see what we remember.”

“You’re really good with her,” Steve said as they headed back out of the facility.

Bucky shrugged. “They were using her. They still do. I can’t let it happen anymore.”

Steve shook his head. “It’s not just that. You’re her dad, Buck. It’s a good look on you.”

Bucky smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Thanks, pal.”

“I just hope Clint falls into it as easy as you do,” Steve said with a shake of his head.

// NEXT

#bucky barnes #clint barton #hawkeye #the winter soldier #winterhawk #bucky barnes x clint barton #winterhawk fanfic #hawkeye fanfic #the winter soldier fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #bringing home kobik

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