#wilson has 2 hands and he's holding them as far apart as possible for the safety of everyone at princeton plainsboro

[tweepunkgrl]

staying quiet as often as possible

even though the title is from “conversations with friends” by sally rooney, i was mostly reading “sweetbitter” by stephanie danier and was kind of reminded of the type of stories i like reading/writing.

Posting this before my bday! this is a prequel to “come and get me” 

recommend listening to “moonover” by kississipi

For much of the pain that it can cause, a crush can be harmless. It’s fun to have a reason to be giddy, to feel silly and girly. There’s always that rush of excitement when the eyes catch a small glimpse of their person. It doesn’t need to mean anything, just as long as a person doesn’t act on it.

I never act on my crushes. I usually bury it deep inside me, never to come up to the surface. I try to wait until it subsides, and I find someone new to be fascinated with. It’s worked so far.

But miserable is the only word I can think of as I glance to his end of the booth in the dim bar. I’m on one side with my right leg stretched out to hold my weight against everyone pushing against me each time they so much as breathed. He’s on the other side, opposite of me, next to the window with a perfect view of Gotham’s vibrant nightlife. He’s not engaged with the conversation, and neither am I. He’s stuffing fires into his mouth, having already eaten his burger. His hand is languid as he brings a fry to his mouth, and he chews on it lazily.

Jason Todd’s mind is clearly on something else while mine is solely on him.

For about three shameful years, I’ve been fascinated with Jason. No one knows about it, so there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. But I know about it, and each day it slowly chips away a piece of my pride. Especially since he’s dating Rose Wilson. Just made it official two months ago.

Crushes are more painful with proximity, and Jason is skin deep.

“We should ask for the check,” Wally says. He searches for the waitress and makes a small motion with his index finger once he makes eye contact.

I always hated that little tick men do; the little head nods, the look in their eyes where they expect you to do something for them and they don’t need to ask. The amount of space that they need to take up, and the space you give up to accommodate them. The moment someone is required to step out of their way when walking in opposite directions. It’s little signs of entitlement that are only inherent to men. I don’t know, I think I’m someone who gets easily irritated.

The waitress drags her feet to our table, and I understand the lifeless gaze she has as she plops the check on the table. I’d rather be somewhere else too.

She gathers what she cans and gives a curt nod before turning on her heels and walking away. Dick takes the check and slides his credit card into the pocket of the black bill folder.

Jason turns in his seat, placing one hand on the table while the other rests on the headrest. “I’m going out for a smoke.”

Beside me, Kory lifts a single eyebrow. I am impressed. I can’t do that. “Rose told me you quit.”

Jason shrugs nonchalantly and pushes Wally, Dick, and Garfield with his hip, urging them out of the booth so he could get out. “I don’t remember making that decision.”

“I could use a smoke too,” the words are out of my mouth before I could even stop myself. But I do. I really do.

Jason’s green eyes settle on me and my heart is already beating so hard it could burst out of my chest and fall right on the table in front of everyone.

A thing I hate about crushes is interacting with a crush. I become too aware of myself, of all the little movements. I overthink the words I say and the way I say them. I will agonize for days about how my voice sounded when I say hi. Diction becomes increasingly important outside a high school English class. Overanalyzing everything when it probably means nothing.

“I got Camels.”

“Not the menthols, right?”

A corner of his lip tugs upwards and I instantly melt. “No. Turkish Royals.”

“Nice, those are the best ones.”

Kory turns to me with confused neon green eyes. “You smoke?”

Just like Jason, I shrug. “Occasionally.”

I try not to notice the smirk that appears in his face, as though just that one word revealed how charming of a person I could be. I somehow pulled myself out of the booth with grace, despite the nerves that wracked from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I run my hands down the skirt of my blue plaid dress and take a quick glance at my favorite pair of Jadon boots.

I look up to find his gaze settled on me. Jason’s green eyes roamed over my face, taking it all in before he turned and walked over to the door. I trail awkwardly behind him with my hands clasped together in front of me.

It’s chilly outside, and I quickly take the cigarette Jason offers, already lit and ready. I rest my back against the brick wall, its edges creating indents on my skin. He’s doing the same, but he looks cooler doing it. Dangerous and mysterious.

“Smoking is nicer with company,” he says after a minute passes. He keeps his face tilted upwards, eyes gazing at the lights of the city.

“It’s a very social activity,” I say.

There is something meditative and melancholy about standing and smoking with Jason outside the bar. It could be a result of the empty night sky above us, with the single lamppost illuminating us. There’s something in the way his shoulders seemed tended for most of the time they ate inside, and how distant his eyes seemed. There’s an invisible force field keeping him away from everyone, one that wasn’t there before. I sadly spend too much of my time watching him, and it’s not hard to notice it.

“You don’t come out often.”

“Yes I do,” I say as I take a drag. I feel like a character right out of a Wong Kar-wai movie as I do so. “You don’t.”

Jason exhales and smoke flows out from between his lips. It curls in the air. “Yeah, that’s true.”

It’s silent between us for a moment. And then he says, “I’ve been spending all my time with Rose.”

I nod my head, trying to sound nonchalant. “Makes sense. She’s your girlfriend.”

He has a girlfriend and that means nothing to me. It doesn’t impact me whatsoever.

“That she is,” is his reply.

Our group of friends makes their way to us, laughter and joy strongly resonating from them. It overwhelms whatever atmosphere there was around Jason and me. It’s jarring to be thrown out of a quiet moment and into a loud one.

Dick looks at his wristwatch. “It’s getting late.”

“Ok, grandpa,” Vic laughs. “It’s only 11 pm.”

“Yeah, we usually turn in at 2 am,” Karen says.

“Three am if we’re feeling particularly reckless,” Garfield says.

I step in. “I have work early tomorrow. I should probably start heading home.”

“Aww, Raven, nooo.” Garfield pouts his lips to me.

I snub my cigarette out with the bottom of my boot, and as I walk toward the nearest trash can, I hear Jason's voice. “You live on the east side of town, right?”

It’s startling to see that he seems to know this. But it makes sense since we run in the same circle of friends. “Ummm, yeah.”

“So does Rose. I’ll walk with you.”

“Excellent idea!” Kory says with optimism oozing out of her. “It’s dangerous to walk alone at night.”

Dick seems to like that idea. He looks at me and says, “Send a text when you get home.”

Jason rolls her eyes. “She’ll be fine. I can make sure she gets home fine.”

We’re silent as we part ways from the group. It’s not until we’re a block away that I feel the pressure of his hand on my back. It’s hot, and it burns my cold skin. It’s nice, and I just want to engulf myself in it.

“I have tequila up in my apartment,” I say. “You wanna come up for a nightcap?”

He bites the side of his cheek and says, “Sure.”

[letsperaltiago]

show me you're shameless

the one where i upload the 2nd chapter 5 months after the first :)) so sorry skskss. anyways... CLUB FIC CHAPTER 2, BABYYY. And it’s getting smutty! Works fine on its own, but reading chapter 1 first does add that *extra spice*

Rating: E

Words: 5.8k

Read here or on Ao3

Besides the obvious bruising and swelling caused by Manson’s punch, Jake is unharmed and allowed to leave the hospital right after his debrief. Officer Wilson nicely offers to give him a ride home and after the day he’s had, which Jake gladly accepts - the faster he gets home, the faster he gets to see Amy. By the time he steps out of the car, onto the sidewalk framing Amy’s apartment building, and tells Wilson thanks for the ride, it’s closing in on two am. The streets of Brooklyn are as desert as the city that never sleeps can be, rather unusually quiet, but Jake can’t think about anything else but the painkillers he’s about to pop, the girlfriend he gets to kiss, and last but not least the soft bed that’ll promise him a good night’s sleep. 

Or so he thinks. 

The second he steps a foot into the apartment, using the spare key Amy gave him a few weeks ago which he proudly accepted, making him feel that more committed to their blossoming relationship, Jake immediately notices that something is not quite how it usually is. And if there’s something he loves about Amy and her place it’s how routine is everywhere to be found - from the tiny key-hook by the front door that holds Amy’s keys to how he knows the painkillers are stashed in the little pink plastic basket on the right top shelf of the bathroom sink cabinet. Tonight the atmosphere feels out of routine, almost making Jake feel like a stranger in an apartment that’s somewhat his own (they’re not quite there yet but they’re mostly at her place so). 

It’s not just because the only elements lighting up the blacked-out apartment are candles (quite many of them) which in itself is very weird because no way Amy Santiago would go to bed with a candle, let alone tens of them, lit. The scene screams fire hazard. Jake himself has a hard time putting a finger on it, but somehow the entire energy seems different. It’s as if, somehow, the air is charged with a certain electricity, and, for a second, Jake wonders if he’s accidentally let himself into the wrong apartment - but that’s not possible, right? No way Amy’s key works for other front doors. 

His keys make a by now familiar clinking sound as he places them on the key-hook, on top of Amy’s. A routine amidst the estranged feeling of this situation. Although he’d hoped and would’ve loved it if Amy had stayed up and waited for him, he knows his girlfriend’s schedule is highly prioritized (even over him, he learned very early on) and so he ignores her absence. What he can’t ignore is that Amy would’ve gone to bed with multiple candles still burning. Her silver three-arm candelabra on the dinner table, her rose-scented block candle on the coffee table, multiple smaller ones in the windows and around the couch/tv-area…

“Ames?” he calls out, loud enough to catch her attention if she’s awake but low enough to not wake her if she’s asleep. 

Silence.

He quickly shrugs off the absence of her reception, and, as per a routine he likes to think of as “domestic”, a new feeling and aspect being with Amy has introduced him to, he kicks off his shoes. Instead of leaving them to clutter up the room, like he would if it were his own apartment, he neatly aligns them with hers on her little shoe rack. His coat goes on on a coat stand instead of a random chair. It’s small gestures like these that make him feel more in sync with his girlfriend. This also leads him to go around the room to blow out the candles. He knows Amy will appreciate him doing it, but he’s just barely put out one candelabra-light when his beliefs are contradicted. 

Someone clears their throat and it has Jake freeze in his spot by the dinner table, much like a deer caught in headlights - a Jake caught in candlelights, one could say. All he can see is a silhouette standing in the hallway. Only just barely lit by the candles’ tiny flames, casting the otherwise dark room in a yellow and orange glow, it’s hard to see anything clearly. Still, there’s no doubt in Jake’s mind: It’s Amy. 

From the way her silhouette almost looks naked, her curves on full display, he can tell she’s still wearing the infamous red skintight dress. Her now messy dark locks frame her face - her beautiful , amazing face - and scatter onto her bare shoulders which are only covered by the sleek dress straps. She looks flushed, luminous, and Jake can’t help but wonder whether it’s the candlelight or the sudden heat he’s sensing. Did it actually just get really hot in here or just him? 

“You don’t like my candles?”

The sound of Amy’s voice is something Jake is very familiar with by now. Her presence has become something his senses immediately tap into, yet when she speaks, red, perfect lips shaping the words with precision, Jake feels his heart skip a beat as if it’s the first time seeing her. His jaw drops to the floor and he surely looks like an idiot, stuck in the same spot with no audible reaction. It surely doesn’t help when his girlfriend walks up to him in a way that has her look like a goddess on a runway. Slow, sleek, and surely she steps up to him as if she isn’t wearing uncomfortably tall stilettos. If Jake hadn’t previously listened to her complain about how awful these heels were then he’d beg her to wear them forever. 

“I- uh- yes? No? I don’t know?” 

A cocky chuckle gushes from her lips. It’s obvious that she has him right where she wants him, physically and mentally, and from the burning look in her eyes, he can tell she has a plan for them to follow tonight whilst she, hopefully,  wears that dress (at least for some of it). 

“I thought I’d try to make the most of the night...” Her eyes switch to the clock on her wall. Five past two. Her brown irises slot back together with his. “What we’ve got left at least.” 

He’s so entranced by her sultry gaze, mystery and mischief glowing in her eyes, that, until he suddenly feels her hands on his hips, he fails to notice how far across the room she’s made it. Now her warm breath is bedewing his neck, fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt and Jake’s never been good at chess but this feels a lot like checkmate. 

He doesn’t say anything. Quite honestly unable to do anything else, he utters just the sound of his breath hitching in his throat, but Amy’s happy; it’s enough to reveal his true sentiments when she gracefully pops the first button with her sleek fingers. She pauses and holds his gaze. 

“I’m really glad we ran into each other tonight.”

Already very much confused and barely able to grasp what reality he’s in at this point, Jake offers her little statement a frown. Ran into each other? They literally went to the club together, what does she mean-

“Most guys I run into at that club are usually barely mediocre...”

Oh… OH. It all suddenly clicks. That’s what she’s doing. 

“... but you...” she interrupts herself by biting into her newly applied lipstick, showing off just how white her teeth are, as she moves on to pop the next button in line. “... you look like someone worth spending a night with.”

The colorful lights, the loud bass, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol, their moment of weakness in the scummy bathroom; the sensation of being back in the club comes rushing back. All of this, along with it the thought of Amy Santiago being his scandalous one-night stand, flicks a switch within him. Being with her every day is indeed a much better deal, one he’d never want to change, but this fictional role of the one-night stand he’s been put in? Definitely works for him too. Now he just needs to get up to speed and make up for time wasted on being utterly obvious. Luckily Amy Santiago can turn him on easily as a faucet. 

“Yeah? You do this a lot, eh-?” He attempts, dabbling and getting comfortable in his newfound role. 

“Cassidy.” 

“Oh yeah, cool cool cool. Cassidy.” 

After this infamous fumbling, figuring things out, he shifts back into gear. His voice descends into a darker tone, as well as his eyes - and don’t even get him started on his train of thoughts. His hands, up until now stuck by his sides, gently latch onto her waist instead and the soft feel of her dress, silk, he guesses, helps him adopt the exact right mindset for this game. 

“So, Cassidy ,” he emphasizes the name as to get familiar with its taste, immediately learning that it savors of something poisonous and addicting. “You do this a lot? Take home guys without even knowing their name or telling them yours?”

Meanwhile, Amy’s already popped another button, revealing a good chunk of his chest, and has to tear her eyes away from it to meet his villainous gaze. There is no fighting it, and she willingly dives right into him as one would in a pool. Although instead of a clear blue mass of water, her’s is a dive right into a sinful twilight that’s slowly but surely consuming them both.

“Well,” she abandons the last two buttons untouched and sneaks her left hand down to the front of his pants to be met what she’s been patiently waiting for all night. A bulge, still quite modest but without a doubt present and growing. After all, they’re just getting started. “All you needed to do was ask for it. Like I’m going to do now: what’s your name?”

She grins, her eyes as well as her lips, and it takes every muscle in Jake’s body to think of a name, stay in the role, all while he’s not to give in to the hand that’s unmistakably cupping him through his pants. 

“I bet you’re used to asking for what you want.” He’s kind of proud of that line, he must admit. “... And I’m Andrew.”

“Good to know, Andrew. And yeah…” she tightens her grip on him just a tad more, “it’s the easiest way to get what I want.” 

“And what exactly do you want?” 

Just like hers had moments ago, Jake’s hands slowly travel south and back, getting two handfuls of her ass and the fabric that’s enhancing its perfect shape. He feels her breath sink into the skin of his neck and lower face, slowly and bit by bit becoming a part of him.

“Whatever you’re willing to give,” she kisses the side of his neck, feeling the dampness her breath has left behind. Turns out he tastes even better than usual, a mixture of him, cigarettes, and alcohol so having her lips let go already seems unnecessary. 

“And what if what I’m willing to give isn’t enough?” 

He shamelessly squeezes her ass, thanking God for this goddess of a woman he gets to call his, and he’d be lying if he said her sucking on his neck and the feeling of her full behind didn’t have him almost fully hard already. 

“Then I’m not shy of a little... begging,” she physically punctuates her sentence by letting her teeth sink into the skin right below his jaw, and it immediately sends her man of the night into another dimension where he can’t hold back and play nice any longer. Luckily, she doesn’t want him to. 

In the bat of an eye, he’s got her face cupped in his hands and their lips colliding with a hunger that makes it seem as if they’ve never kissed before this very moment. The kiss is clumsy, hungry as if they’ve been starving for days, and once in a while they can hear their teeth clacking, colliding. 

“You’re so gorgeous, Am- Cassidy,” he’s quick to correct himself. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you at that club. Was wondering how a fucking goddess like you was hanging out in a shit-hole like that.” 

He feels her hands cling onto his neck. In response, he has to let go of her face. Instead, his hands wander back down to his hips. Although rather than both slipping backward like earlier, one sneaks its way down and forward to get a grip on the hem of her dress. 

“And wearing this dress? How could I not notice you and instantly dream of fucking you in it.”

This rewards him a tiny moan, airy and soft right into his ear where her lips happen to be nibbling on his earlobe, and Jake knows he’s giving her exactly what they both want. 

“Touch me,” she breathes almost inaudibly and although he hears her he can’t help but push some buttons. 

“What are you saying, baby?” He smirks, slowly forcing the dress-hem up the warm skin of her thighs. “Say it again - louder.” 

“Touch me, please .”

With two fingers hooked around the red fabric he drags it up to stop right by her pubic bone. “Only because you’re so good at asking for it. I might have you beg a bit later.”

She barely answers, only utters a little uhuh . The same two fingers slowly slip beyond the fabric and slide across the already damp gusset. It’s with a small victory smile that Jake carefully starts rubbing the area, immediately earning himself a small whimper. It falls from her lips as if it’s been waiting to do so for a long time now, and her head drops to rest on his shoulder. 

“What did you say?” he cranes his neck in an attempt to get a glimpse of her face, but it’s mostly hidden in his neck. “Does that feel good?”

He doesn’t hear her but feels her nod against him, and so he adds a little more pressure with his fingers, digging into her through the fabric of what feels like lacy panties. 

“I have barely touched you and you’re already this wet. Do you want more? Is this okay?” His tone doesn’t change by Amy can tell it’s Jake asking, not Andrew. 

“Y-yes,” she whimpers, wishing he’d put more energy into touching her.

For a second Amy believes he can read her mind because as soon as the green light has officially been re-approved, her partner’s fingers force aside the gusset and gather some of her wetness to help embed themselves inside of her. He feels her shuffle on the spot in an attempt to stay on her feet and squirm a bit around him when his middle finger penetrates her, all to be summed up by a soft moan into his neck. 

“God, you’re soaked, baby. Do you know how good that feels? Do you feel good?” he slowly starts moving his fingers inside of her, in a pattern he knows she enjoys, and he has to use his free hand to stabilize her as he challenges her with a quicker pace.

“S-so good. More, please.”

Her wish is his command, and he immediately meets it by switching up the pace to which he can hear and feel her react right away. 

“This is so hot,” he breathes into the top of her head, her hair already mussed and messy from their fooling around. “You look amazing, you feel amazing. Kinda just wanna keep you in this dress. It looks fantastic on you.”

Busy whimpering and grinding along to the pace of his fingers, Amy has no time to reply and instead gives in to his upper hand. There’s something so exciting, so hot, not only about the roleplay but also the spontaneity of things, the way they haven’t even made their way out of the dining/living room. If Jak- Andrew wants to, he can have her right then and there. She wouldn’t mind one bit… 

Caught up in a whirlwind of feelings and thoughts, trapped in the vessel that is her quivering body, it comes as a surprise when suddenly Jake nudges her in the direction of the dining table. Making sure to stay away from the still lit candelabra, Jake backs her up against the wooden surface. 

“Sit,” he prompts and helps her over the edge of the table, safely seating her on it and as a consequence, his fingers slip out of her. They’re glistening with her juices and when he runs his hand across her thigh, her skin is smeared with her own lust. Then he nudges her legs further apart for him to fit in-between. The tight dress has by now suffered a lot of moving, already pushed up above her hips and creased into a bunch around her lower belly, which, once he’s ripped off her panties, leaves him with open access to where they both want him to bee.

“Wanna taste you,” he huffs into the kiss he’s pulled her into, leaving them both breathing hard and yearning for air when he retreats to sink to his knees. He’s left at the perfect height. “I’m gonna make you forget about all the guys before me.”

And he sure keeps his promise. 

He dives right into the sacred space between her legs, tongue first, drawing circles around and with her clit, while his hands are forged onto her shivering thighs, making sure they stay wide open and spread for him. Her heaves and tiny breaths escape her with shorter and shorter intervals, promising them both a climax, which his tongue follows, focusing on all the right spots. He continuously eats her out like he’s been starved and deprived for God knows how long,  and she’s his main course. 

“I-I’m almost there.”

She dares to let go of the table, just one hand, and plants it in his messy locks, which are already sweaty and wild from his rummaging between her legs. The tugging throws him into a higher gear that demands extra help from his fingers, still wet from earlier, which makes entering her easy. The second they sink into her, from the higher pitch of her moans, Jake can tell he acted wisely. She shakes, not only the thighs beneath her hands but her entire body, and he fights to keep up the pace that seems to be succeeding in bringing her closer to the edge. A few more pumps, licks and kisses to her inner thigh a couple of times before his tongue reunites with her clit for the final licks that have her climaxing with a loud moan, right there on the dinner table and his mouth. He pecks her heat a few more times as she comes down, then her inner thighs where he spreads her climax on her skin before standing up to see her leaned back onto the elbow that wasn’t tugging on his hair. The dress looks miserable crumpled up around her waist but something about it, paired with her closed eyes and messy makeup, leaves him with what he believes is the perfect picture. Her breathing is more or less just heaves and he lets her catch some air before he leans in to kiss her, open-mouthed as to allow her a taste of herself. 

“Good?” 

“So good,” she smiles right into the kiss, given a taste herself, eyes still closed as she focuses her energy on assembling herself for what is yet to come. 

“Wanna see what you’re hiding in here,” she breathes but Jake barely hears it as all he can currently fixate on is her hand cupping the bulge in his pants, and her nimble fingers working the button and zipper open. Who said attending multiple meticulous and detail-oriented bomb-defusing classes would never come in handy? 

 “Wanna suck you off. I’ve been wanting to all night, even in that disgusting bathroom we met in. Could’ve sucked you off while you looked at yourself in that disgusting mirror.” 

Though it’s pureoy fiction (at least for now - who knows?) Jake feels lightheaded just hearing her thoughts break free and let out into the open. Despite the fact he could never ask her to kneel on the club bathroom’s disgusting floor that, so filthy it stuck to your shoes when walking on it, just the thought of it does ignite something within him. One second they’re still making out, Amy on the table with Jake standing in between her legs, the next she’s got his pants unbuttoned and unzipped thus proceeding to push herself off the table, consequently pulling both his pants and boxers down at once (which kinda impresses Jake - he’s not gonna lie) as she gets descends to her knees. 

Cassidy, Amy, whoever she is in this moment, doesn’t waste time. Jake admires the adulterated hunger in her eyes as she wraps her fingers around his hard, pre-cum leaking cock to give it a few assisting pumps before leaning in to kiss the head. Her gaze diverts from his hard-on to his eyes, up at him through thick and black mascara-coated lashes, as she gives the very tip a tiny, almost experimental, lick. Just the sight and feel of her tongue on him, her saliva mixing with his pre-cum is enough to send him to heaven, but he sure doesn’t complain when the innocent lap is succeeded by a full-on licking motion that goes around his full girth. 

“Gosh, you’re killing me.” 

He reaches for her cheek, stroking it with his thumb as if to praise her for her actions. “You like this, huh? Hunting down your preys, taking them home… only for you to become the prey.” 

Nothing is answered, at least not verbally. Instead, she slowly goes down on the length, lips stretched to the max around him and batting her eyelids as her gagging reflex is challenged. His hand leaves her cheek and instead travels to the back of her head where it can get a good grip on her hair. Here it settles on following her movement as she bobs her head, swallowing him again and again. The grip on her doesn’t have a real purpose, he doesn’t try to control or force anything with it. All it really does is provide him with another pleasing aspect of feeling her movements, giving him some sense of staying grounded when the thrill becomes too much and he starts losing himself to the thrill of her actions. 

“Fuck, you look so good on your knees like this, and…” He’s interrupted by his own growl, escaping him the second he feels a very soft scratching of her teeth against his pulsing member. It takes him a few seconds to recollect himself. She’s sucking him off like a champion, one hand by the base, the other on his thigh, steady rhythm and small hums in between. Hums that he’ll remember till the day he dies. “Your lips stretched around my cock like this? Like they were made for it, fuck. I’m not gonna last though - not if you keep eating me up like this.” 

Her lips offer him a few more pumps, slowing down to a halt and leaving her in his mouth for a few seconds before she lets him slip out of her mouth, leaving a thin thread of a mix of saliva and pre-cum to hang on for dear life between her lips and his cock. She can taste him and he can see his discharge on her lips glowing in the candlelight. Her knees are pink and raw when she stands back up, hair messier than ever, and dress crumpled, bunched up around her waist. She’s amazing, Jake thinks, in awe of how he landed someone as perfect as her - in every way imaginable. Tonight is just one of many aspects, and every day with her is truly the best day ever

“C’mere,” he pulls her in by the waist, too caught up to let her go for even a second, and without even thinking twice his right hand cups her heat, feeling the wetness seep through her lips and trimmed bush. Just what he’d hoped for. “You’re gonna start dripping on the floor if we keep going like this.”

“Would you like that?” she breathes onto the shell of his ear, grinding into his hand, and sending shivers down his spine. 

“Yeah, I would… But I’d rather put how absolutely soaked you are to good use.” He slips his middle finger in between her folds, gathering wetness, feeling her squirm. “I’d much rather fuck you right into this wall…” he backs her into the nearest wall that’s clear of shelves and pictures frames, a low-risk area per se, “... while you’re wearing this stupidly hot dress.”

She’s sucking bruises into his neck, not allowing him to see her face, but the second her back hits the wall she’s back to kissing her way up to his lips. Here she tugs on his plump, still bruised bottom lip before dropping her head backward, letting it lull against the wall. Her eyes are darker than ever, brown irises borderline black, as she stares right into his. “Do it then.”

“Do what?” he challenges. He wants to hear her say it. Every word, every syllable. 

“Fuck me. Up against this wall. Wearing this red dress.” She pulls down the skirt, just to cover her ass and give him the full dress-experience rather than it just being fabric bundled up around her waist. “ Please .” 

It sure is impossible to not act when she bats her eyes at him, spilling filthy words, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Before he’s even fully aware, his animalistic instinct takes over and has him holding up her leg with one hand, the other giving his cock a few pumps prior to guiding the tip through her folds. 

“Cond-” 

She’s quick to interrupt. She knows it’s his character asking, since, in reality, they both know they’re clean and she’s on the pill - though she appreciates the effort of staying in character and the fact that Andres is a reasonable man.

“Fuck me. Raw.”

“You’re something else, Cassidy,” he chuckles, and having already gathered enough wetness on him he pushes into her, slowly and torturously, feeling her heat take him in and hearing her moan shatter the silence. 

“Yes,” she hisses at the stretch, her uplifted leg leaving her more open and the piercing sensation somewhat smoother. 

He starts slow, rocking into her with ease. 

“You look so hot. Can’t believe you’re letting me take you right here up against a wall. Fucking filthy.” 

He eventually picks up her other leg as he picks up speed and by the time he’s fully slamming into her with a powerful pace that has her legs shaking, he’s fully holding her off the floor and fucking her into the beige wall behind her. She moans with every thrust, every collision between her body and the wall, thumps, as she holds onto his shoulders for dear life, thighs burning from clinging onto his hips. The angle at which he penetrates her is just perfect, hitting and stimulating all the right zones, and, even comparing to the loads of amazing sex they’ve had, this, without a doubt , goes in the top three. The wall is cold against her back, creating a sizzling contrast to the heat forming between their rubbing fronts. His shoulders and arms are flexing under her weight, and now there’s no denying that Jake Peralta the hottest guy she’s even been with. 

“R-right there, ah, yes,” she hisses, head pressed back into the wall, the friction messing up her hair. 

“This feel good, huh?”

“So good- fuck , harder, please.” 

“You feel so good around me, you know that? All wet, all tight… Just like your dress. Fucking gorgeous.” 

He picks up the pace, putting great effort that has him sweating through his nice shirt, never fully removed, as he works her up, almost as if he hopes to leave an outline of her on the wall. Her moans pick up the pace, turning into small squeals that can barely come to an end before a new one takes over, and Jake can tell she’s closing in on a climax. So is he. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, J-Jake.”

It flies out of her, beyond her control. It’s hard to stay in character when your groin is one fire like (almost) never before, but she was the one to start the roleplay and he’s going to keep her in it. You have to finish what you started. 

“Who’s Jake?” the trust going in with his name is extra hard and earns him a loud whimper, topping all other sounds so far, as if to apologize for her mess-up. “Is he some other guy who you’ve taken home and gotten fucked by?”

“S-sorry, bad habit,” she leans in to kiss him in hopes of making him forget or at least let go. 

“Do I fuck you better than he did? Huh?”

She doesn’t say anything but keeps moaning, her pitch gradually becoming higher.

“Tell me,” he momentarily lets go of a leg, feeling her ankles hook together behind his back, to cup her cheek and force her to look right into his eyes. “Have you been fucked like this before?”

“N-no,” she stutters in-between his cocks collision with what he knows is her good spot. 

“Couldn’t hear you,” he growls, provoked, and dying to hear the statement in its entirety fall from her sinfully pink lips now that he’s gnawed off the red lipstick. Almost synchronously to his demand, he picks up the pace, heading for the last stretch, which he knows might not be the smartest when he wants her to speak. But Amy Santiago loves a good challenge. To his surprise, the always so consistent woman completely fails, moans turning into small screams as she chases her peak, and Jake can only forgive her inability to answer him right away. It doesn’t refrain him from insisting a few moments later though. 

“What did you say, baby?”

Every word is punctuated with a thrust, thrusts that go deeper than before, and Amy on her part is a wreck barely clinging onto him and the wall behind her.  

“I-I said…” melts into a groan when he, once again, strikes just the right spot. “I said that I’ve never been fucked like this before.” 

“Didn’t think so.”

Jake grins rather proudly even though, in reality, he’s competing with himself. Beads of sweat trickle down from under his wavy bangs who by now are very much soaked, plastered to his forehead like a wet (but also kinda cute, if you ask Amy) mop. In every which way possible, there’s something very special and satisfying about a chuffing, puffed-up, sweaty Jake holding her like he currently is, taking on this commanding role of Andrew, and Amy is sure: she won’t mind revisiting this act some other time. 

 “Be a good girl: suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me.”

His hand that was once on her cheek presents itself, and Amy doesn’t even have the time to feel embarrassed about how quickly, without any second thought, she opens her mouth for them. Obeying is part of her DNA and dutiful as Amy Santiago is she immediately welcomes his index and middle finger into her mouth, sucking on them with a great commitment that Jake undoubtedly appreciates. 

“Good girl,” he praises, their eyes’ locked in their perhaps most intense staring contest ever. Amy makes sure to take his fingers all the way in, lips reaching his knuckles, and Jake almost forgets his agenda. 

Keyword: almost. 

After slowing down the pace of his thrusts and retracting his fingers, to Amy’s great chagrin, the hand drops to between her legs, and his fingers are added to the mix, the chasing of her climax, and oh it definitely works. Amy’s whining reaches a brand new level, hitting a high note he’s never heard before, and he can feel her tense around his cock and fingers. She’s almost there, and even though Amy, in the red strappy dress, taking him so well, is a piece of art that he’d like to hang on a wall forever, he knows she needs release. And so does he. 

 “Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that. Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s very distracting yet I can’t look away.”

High-pitched moans and whimpers are all he gets in return. His fingers slip out of her heat, now even wetter than after being sucked on, but don’t go far and redirect to give her clit the final attention. 

“If you keep making those sounds I’m not going to be able to stop myself.” He chuckles, leaning in just far enough to peck her lips, and if they hadn’t only been dating for a couple of months, the best couple of months ever , he would be pretty sure of the fact that he’s very much in love with Amy Santiago, Cassidy, Dora and every other version of his incredible girlfriend. 

“T-then don’t.”

So he doesn’t, her word is her command after all, and a couple of strokes and thrusts later, nibbling on her clavicle with just a bit more teeth than intended but too blown away to be able to control it, she lets out a cry as she comes apart around him. Limbs going limp, just barely managing to cling onto his body and avoiding a fall to the floor, Amy reaches and crashes completely, hitting a climax for the record books. Jake follows right behind, coming into her,  riding it out with her aftershock, and then the room goes silent as if nothing had happened. Only their heavy breathing is to be heard. 

“Shit,” she pants.

“The good kind?” he chuckles pulling out of her, but still carrying her. 

“The very good kind, Andrew . Maybe the best one yet.”

They share a small laugh as she pushes his sweaty hair back, admiring the admiration in his eyes that seconds ago were darker than the pitch-black night sky outside her window. How fast they can switch will never cease to amaze her. 

“Kinda sucks I let another man beat that record.”

“Well…” she leans in, offering him a consolatory kiss that he gladly accepts, before she pulls back, just an inch, to whispers against his lips. “The night is young. Andrew had his turn, now Jake Peralta can show me his worth.” 

“Holy shit- Amy Santiago, you’re going to be the death of me.”

It’s safe to say that Jake wins back the record and Amy eventually ends up washing her dress. Twice. On the warmest setting possible. 

[milliedazzledust]

War Rages On: part 2 (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Words: 3234

A/N: Still don’t know where I’m going with this story but I’m really having fun writing this and I hope you’ll like it! Don’t forget to tell me if you want to be tag for the next parts :)

Previously: part 1

Steve had found Bucky deep in the forest of Wakanda. Escorted by the kind T’Challa, he led him to the man they called the White Wolf. He had found his redemption away from mankind. Surrounded by trees and animals, Y/N and him had lived a simple life inside their cottage up until that moment. Before this, Steve had no intention to bring them back. He had planned to come visit the couple but most importantly to let them have their happy ending, to keep them from monsters that had tried so many times to tore them apart. He couldn’t imagine two people more deserving of peace than them. The King of Wakanda had outdone himself to make sure this was achievable.

“Do you remember the last time you saw her ?” Steve asked him.

Bucky sat on a rock near a river, hastily ruffling his hair.

“She left a couple days ago” He recounted. “She had a message from Stark on the burner phone you gave her”

“What did it say ?”

“Need your help asap - Romanoff compromised. An address was attached”

He got worried when he saw Steve dropping his head and rubbing his eyes in frustration. He had known him long enough to guess something was bothering him.

“Buck’, Tony didn’t send anything.” The Soldier confessed.

“What do you mean ?”

The familiar sensation of anxiety started to form in the pit of his stomach despite the lack of information. He knew he wouldn’t like what he was about to hear.

“I don’t know what happened, but somebody pretending to be him wrote that message”

“That’s impossible” He shook his head, refusing to believe him.

“Buck’ ..”

“She left, Steve. She left to go help him” He vehemently cut him. He stood up and started pacing. His friend could see his whole demeanor slowly shifting. “If she’s not with Stark, then where is she ?!”

“I don’t know” The Captain replied. Admitting it to his friend was almost too painful.

“Have you talk to the others ? Do they know anything ?”

He was looking more and more like a madman. His body had already understood what his mind failed to grasp.

“She send Sam an SOS”

“What ?” He said it in a whisper, instantaneously freezing on the spot.

“Bucky, I’m sorry but she’s missing”

“She can’t be” He felt the panic beginning to creep into his chest.

He turned back to look at his friend.

“That’s not … She said she’d be back” He explained, as if it would make perfect sense that she couldn’t be gone, as if that promise had been enough to keep her safe “.. She … She always comes back to me”

He dropped on the floor, the captain barely had enough time to catch him. His breathing became more rapid, more shallow. He felt it hit him like a hurricane. There was a logical explanation, but the only one he could think of was worst than any nightmare.

“Steve if it’s …” He suddenly sounded alarmed.

“It might not be” The Captain answered. He didn’t know which one of them he was trying to convince the most.

“Who else ?”

His friend stayed silent. His mind couldn’t wrapped around the fact that this could be happening, that they were potentially facing another threat.

“They’re still after me” The Sergeant muttered. “It’d make sense”

“Even if it’s Hydra, we’ll still find her” Steve promised.

“What if it’s too late ?” Bucky dared to think about that possibility, his eyes drifting into space.

“It’s not”

The soldier put a comforting hand on the Sergeant’s shoulder. When he glanced up at him, he saw the reassurance he so desperately needed. He knew this look by heart, he had seen it so many time on Steve’s face growing up. He had that same determination every time he went on to fight someone twice his size, the confidence and fierceness that had built Captain America.

“C’mon, get up.” He ordered with force. “We’re gonna find her”

He silently followed him, his mind running a mile an hour. He couldn’t remember a time he had felt so vulnerable. The mere thought of her somewhere with Hydra was enough to reopen his deepest wounds. He knew what they were capable of, he had lived through the endless torture for years and to picture a fraction of it being done on her was too much.

Steve had taken him to a jet. After several hours of flight, they had landed in a location he didn’t recognize. The place looked like headquarters, abandoned in the middle of nowhere. They were surrounded by large trees. When they walked out of the plane, Bucky recognized the distinct sent of mint and pine mixed together. He glanced around, trying to find a clue as to where they were, but all he could see was the woods. No other indication.

“What is this place ?” He asked Steve as they walk inside the building.

Before his friend could answer he heard another voice speaking, the sound resonating on the walls.

“Secure location not far from Warsaw, outside of the radars”

Bucky didn’t hide his surprise when he found himself face to face with Tony Stark. The billionaire saw him tense, his body instinctively going into defense mode.

“At ease, soldier” He sighed. “We’re not here to fight”

Still he didn’t ushered a word and looked back and forth between the two men in front of him.  After what had happened between them before he found shelter in Wakanda, he wasn’t sure how to behave around Stark.

“Have you find anything ?” Steve inquired, folding his hands behind his back.

“Sam checked the address you sent me” Stark started to explain. “We were about to take a look at the security footage”

He guided the soldiers to a room that seemed like it had been restored at the last minute. There was a violent contrast between the dust on the floor, the half broken chairs and the high-tech computers Tony had most likely installed. It definitely looked like a hideout. He first noticed Natasha Romanoff leaning on the large table at the center of the room. She was studying a file. Next to her was Sam Wilson, scrolling on a tablet he was holding with intense concentration.

Steve greeted both of them with a simple nod and Bucky noticed the side looks he was being given but chose to not acknowledge them. Stark started to type on his computer and the enormous screen he had placed on one of the wall turned itself on.  

“Here’s what we know so far” Tony told them.

Bucky recognized a screenshot of the message sent to Y/N on the burner phone, the very same one he was carrying in his pocket.

“I was not able to trace the id or the location”

As he spoke, Stark watched the Sergeant from the corner of his eyes taking a sit on a half torn armchair.

“But whomever send this was pretending to be me”

“How were they able to get her number ? Only you and I are supposed to have that information” Steve interrogated.

“I’m getting there, Captain.” Tony answered. “Somebody infiltrated my system and discreetly hijacked it to get into classified data”

The Sergeant suddenly raised his head and with a flick of the fingers, Stark projected details of his firewall system on the screen.

“They left a trail. Sloppy work if you ask me”

“Get to the point, Tony” Natasha reminded him.

The man rolled his eyes before continuing his explanations.

“They searched through every files I have on Barnes. What they were looking for exactly? I don’t know, but I have a vague idea”

“My location” Bucky whispered.

“Bingo. They were after you, and when they realized I was smart enough not to put any compromising informations, they moved to plan B”

“What’s plan B ?” Sam severely asked.

“If you can’t find the Winter Soldier, then let him find you.” Stark directly offered the hypothesis.

“They’re using Y/N as leverage” Steve finally understood.

“Exactly”

Bucky rubbed his eyes in frustration. This was looking more and more like Hydra’s modus operandi.

“Who is they ?” Romanoff questioned.

“I might have an answer to that” Sam replied, waving his tablet. “I found something on the security footage”

A video without sound started playing and instantly Bucky stood up. His eyes traveling from one corner of the screen to the other, he was closely studying every movement. Whomever was doing this had smartly brought the woman in the middle of the city and away from any camera that could incriminate them.

“Y/N is waiting in the corner of the street, then this man approaches her. She takes a step back, probably figured out something was wrong.” The Falcon explained. “All we can see is her reaching for her phone behind her back, which we know now was to send an SOS”

“Any identification on the guy ?” Natasha inquired.

“No. He stayed hidden from the cameras. He knew exactly where they were”

“Why didn’t she attack ?” Tony pondered. “She could have taken him easily”

“Busy street” Bucky answered mechanically. “If you want somebody to comply, lure them in the middle of a crowd. One move and someone else die. Works all the time”

“Of course you’d know about that” The billionaire muttered under his breath.

Steve hadn’t talk yet. His eyes were glued to the screen. Something wasn’t adding up and he didn’t know what. He watched the video playing four times, his hands on his hips, deep in concentration.

“Rewind it” He ordered Sam.

The man didn’t question the request and did as he was told. Shape after shape the Captain analyzed every detail until the information he was missing was right in front of him.

“Stop there”

The video froze and they stared at the frame, trying to figure out what he was seeing.

“What is it, Steve ?” The Russian spy inquired.

“Can you zoom in ?” He asked, ignoring the first question.

Tony took the tablet in his hand and started to play with it.

“What am I looking for ?”

“His neck” He simply said. “He has a tattoo”

His friend raised an eyebrow in surprise, but got to work. Typing on his keyboard, he cut the video’s frame, zoomed in and used a program to polish the picture and create a clear image of the ink on the man’s body.

As soon as Bucky saw it, he felt a cold shiver running down his spine. What he feared the most had only been theoretical until then, there was still a slight hope he was wrong, a one percent chance he was holding onto that he wasn’t living his worst nightmare. And all that came crashing down when he recognized the pattern of a skull he knew by heart.

“No..No, no, no, no” He kept repeating, pacing around the room, panic striking in his veins. “This is not happening, this is not…”

The Captain stopped him in his track, putting his hands on his shoulders.

“Buck’ ..”

“They have her, Steve. They have Y/N” He was terrified, and his friend could clearly hear it in his voice.

The others were following their interaction, not yet understanding what was happening. Steve raised his head, still holding his brother emotionally breaking apart, and looked at them with an alarmed expression that did nothing to ease their worry.

“We had our suspicion on who might have pulled up something like this » He told them. « Frankly, I was hoping we were wrong”

“Who is it ?” Romanoff demanded.

“…Hydra” Bucky murmured, his head low and his human hand shaking.

They all tensed in the room and the silence that followed was frightening.

“Are you sure ?” The Falcon asked.

Steve stared at the projecting image on the wall, pursing his lips.

“Yes, Sam. It’s them” He answered with a heavy voice filled with concern.

Bucky felt the tears on his cheeks before he realized he was crying. His breathing had become unsteady and he was slowly faltering. He quickly excused himself and left the building. He needed the air.

He was trying so hard not to panic but he seemed paralyzed. There was suddenly a menacing aura around him, holding him in a tightening grip. He could feel his temperature rising, a clear sign of his anxiety, his fear. It was a living force creeping over him like a hungry beast, fed by the agonizing possibility he might lose her. He started to take shaky small breath, like Y/N had taught him every time he had a panic attack, but without her to guide him, it was useless. His pulse was beating in his ears, blocking all the other sounds, and he was sweating. There was a lump in his throat, an emotion so large it was aching to be released. He wanted to scream, to punch something, to beg for mercy. Alas, he closed his eyes, trying to focus his senses on one thing only, find her.

And just as the thought crossed his mind, he felt the tiny device he had in his pocket vibrate. He took his phone out, but nothing was displayed on the screen. Then he realized it wasn’t the right one. Fishing in his pants, he found was he was looking for and grabbed the burner phone. One message. When he opened it, the color quickly drained from his face.

« She won’t stay alive for long, unless you come home. Not Romania, not Brooklyn, your real home. No Avenger. You know the consequences of disobedience »

Attached to it was a photo. His heart stopped and his metal fist clenched the phone so hard he accidentally broke it when he saw the picture of the woman he loved, arms chained on a ceiling, body dangling in the air and covered in blood. He absently stared at his hands, thinking back to their time in Wakanda, in peace, away from the world. Just the two of them. What a difference a couple of days could make. He knew what he wanted to do. There was not an ounce of hesitation in him, only the desire to make sure she would make it out of there alive.

So engrossed in his own thoughts, he didn’t hear someone creeping in behind him. Natasha silently stood next to him. Was it out of pity or emotional support, he couldn’t tell. She observed him for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows like she was trying to read him, before she turned back to look at the sky.

“You know where she is”

It wasn’t a question but a statement.

“What makes you say that ?”

“Two fossils from the 1930’s with the same instinct of preservation and the same tendencies to make stupid decisions based on emotions. Not exactly hard to put two and two together. You and Steve have a lot in common”

He pursed his lips.

“Are you gonna tell them ?” He asked, looking back at the abandoned building.

“Still debating.” She admitted. “You’re not really stupid, Barnes. You know you can’t take them all by yourself”

“That wasn’t my intention”

“Then what’s your plan ?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to, she could see it in his whole demeanor. It was in the way he stood up straight, in the way he was clenching his jaw, in the way his eyes held so much determination and purpose.

“You don’t intend on coming back, do you ?”

“I can’t let them kill her” He explained.

“A suicide mission is by far the most stupid idea you could come up with”

“It’s the only one I’ve got” He replied, resigned.

He turned to look at her. The calmness he was displaying was enough to know he had made up his mind and honestly, it frightened her.

“I don’t think you know how much she means to me, Natasha. I don’t deserve her love, I really don’t, but somehow she saw something worth fighting for in me. She saw all the cracks, all the flaws and all the mistakes I’ve made and she didn’t run. She stood by my side and fought for me. She’s my sanity. She’s all the good that’s left in me. She’s the name I whisper when I’m scared my memories are fading. I can’t take the risk to lose her because if that happens, I’ll lose myself and there will be no come back this time”

The lump in his throat prevented him from saying anything more and he gulped, trying to make the feeling of anxiety subside.

“Whatever it takes, and whatever I’ll have to do, I swear she will get out of there alive” He nodded to no one in particular, a silent and simple sign he would not change his mind.

“At what cost ? What are we suppose to tell her when you won’t be here anymore ?”

“That I fought for her the same way she did for me”

His response shut her up. His voice held so much serenity and resolve she knew it would be useless to argue. She understood where he was coming from, just like she understood the sacrifice he was ready to make.

“There’s a version of this where we win, Barnes. Keep that in mind. It doesn’t have to end in pain or worse. Fight with everything you’ve got and don’t stop until both of you are safe”

He sadly smiled.

“You’ve definitely spent too much time with Steve”

She rolled her eyes before turning to stand in front of him. She hesitated a moment, words on the tip of her tongue.

“I’m sorry this is happening” She gloomily confessed. “But you know why they want you, right ?”

“The Winter Soldier” He replied, closing his eyes. “They want him back”

“Just so we’re clear here, Bucky, and just in case, you have to be aware that the moment you’ll get there, they will torture you to get him back. Your mind is already damaged, you won’t hold long”

“I just need to hold long enough to get her out of there” He vehemently assured her, gritting his teeth.

“Your plan is to walk out with her” She reminded him, insisting on the words.

He glanced down at her and judging by the look in his eyes, she knew what he was about to ask her before he even spoke.

“If it comes to the worse, if I become … him again …” He started.

“I know” She cut him. He didn’t need to say the word, she knew thinking about it was already more than enough pain for him.

She stood there, watched him get into the jet him and Steve had taken to get there, and did nothing. It was useless to try to convince him to stay, he was too stubborn to listen. And she knew this was his best shot at getting back the woman he loved alive. She was aware Hydra would not spare the lovers and she prayed they were ready for the fight that was ahead of them. The Avengers would find them eventually, hopefully before it was too late. She turned around when she saw the jet flying in the air and walked silently back inside the building. She would keep that conversation and the promise she had made a secret, and hope whatever Bucky had planned, it would be enough to prevent the worse from happening.

Tag list: @briannareneea985​ - @bangtanxberm​  - @kissmyoops - @steve-is-daddy​

[supraveng]

Moving On (3/?)

part 2

Summary: you have to confront your past….what could go wrong

Characters:  Sam Winchester x reader, former Bucky Barnes x reader, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson, Bruce Banner, Kevin Tran, Dick Roman, Maria Hill, Nick Fury

Word Count: 2508

A/N:  sorry for the delay on part 3, (work has been crazy)....hoping to post the next chapter next week

does not follow any MCU story line; attempting an MCU/SPN crossover; let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapters

@iamwarrenspeace   

@mythandmagik    @lieswithoutfairytales   @bbmommy0902  @hailmary-yramliah  @jessyballet  @paryl @tcc-gizmachine @vicmc624​

You were in a daze and barely remembered getting back to your room, you heard Sam talking but you couldn’t grasp anything other than Thor telling you about your pregnancy.  Something that you would never expect to happen and you were certainly not ready for.  

“Sweetheart? Are you ok?” Sam looked at you worryingly.  

“Yea, uh, I um, I’m ok” you nodded “I am in need of a shower and uh, yea.”  Looking up at Sam, you saw the biggest smile on his face 

“I can tell you are worried, and I know this wasn’t your plan, but I’m so happy right now I can’t help it. We’re having another baby!” he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a comforting hug.  

“I love you so much, Sam” just a hug from him helped your anxious thoughts to quiet down for a few moments.  “Wanna join me in the shower?” you winked as you turned and headed towards the bathroom.

Making your way back to the common room, after a very long and rejuvenating shower, you tried your best to focus on what to do next.  Your head is spinning, as excited as you are about having another child, this wasn’t planned and kind of throws everything out of whack.  

You huff as you plop down on the couch next to Kevin, watching Morgan and Joy have a tea party in the middle of the room with all of their favorite animals.  

“So Kev, we are probably heading home tomorrow, so if there is anything you want to see while in NY, now is your chance” you tell him knowing he’s been enjoying this trip as much as you have.  

“Oh, I thought we’d be here longer, I was hoping to catch a show, but I haven’t been able to find affordable tickets, so maybe next time” he shrugs in response.

“Don’t be silly, I’m sure i can have Tony pull some strings and get you tickets for tonight, or we could move your return flight home, whichever you prefer really. Anything for Kevin Tran, world’s best nanny” you smile at him and see the small blush on his cheeks from the praise.  

“I’m serious, whatever you need, just say the word, you have no idea how relieved I am when she’s with you, because I know you take such good care of her, I don’t worry for a minute, you Kevin, are a Godsend if there ever was one”

You could tell Kevin was a bit taken back, but he rarely took a compliment well so you simply squeezed his hand and offered a sincere smile before being interrupted by Sam as he joined the girls on the floor for tea.   

“What do my girls say to a picnic then maybe a trip to the park?”   

"That sounds like a great plan, but I have an appointment with Maria after lunch so I can't make it to the park, I'm sorry sweetie" you tell them as you go to join them for tea.  

"Well, we could picnic here and maybe play down at the lake, I'm sure Tony has a kayak or canoe I can take the girls on." Sam tells you as you adjust the flower crown on his head so it  doesn't fall in his eyes.  

"Are you sure you want to take care of 2 kids by yourself? I gave Kevin the rest of the day off"

"Of course, and I need the practice" he winks as he starts to tickle the girls.  "Ok, then I will get our lunch ready while you help the girls out of these beautiful gowns and into some play clothes''

 Lunch was an event, although both girls were always well behaved, they had a tendency to make a mess, or get distracted and try to follow the butterfly that came by for a visit.  By the time you were done, you were rushing to meet Maria in time, knowing that being late was not an option.   

You knew what needed to be done but not sure how she would take the info about Roman getting away, hopefully the few of his lackeys that were picked up would get you some important info.  

By the time you made it back to the compound you were mentally exhausted, and apparently your clan had a good day as they were spread out in the common room watching The Little Mermaid.  You had to laugh at how engrossed in the movie the adults in the room seemed to be, and was Steve singing along...no, you had to be imagining that.  

Finding a seat next to Nat, you looked around fondly at your two families combining so nicely.  

“So how did she take it?” Natasha whispered without taking her eyes off the screen.  

You hadn’t told anyone what your full intention of today’s meeting was, as far as everyone knew, you were going over the mission report and strategizing the next steps, but Nat always knew everything….now that you were having two kids, you really needed to figure out how to do that.  

“Well, she’s not thrilled but understands, Furry asked if he had to buy me a farm….whatever that means” you responded shaking your head.  

She snickered and simply responded with “Clint”, you hadn’t even thought of that, “ah, well, Sam Winchester is not the Mr. Mom type, so this is my only option”    

“And are you ok with that?” she asks, finally turning and looking at you. 

“Honestly, I can’t imagine anything better” you sigh as you look over at Joy napping on Sam’s chest.  

“Good, you deserve all the happiness in the world” she gives you a small hug.  “And Tony’s throwing a dinner tonight, since you are leaving tomorrow, so be prepared”  

You roll your eyes in jest, knowing Tony would probably do something like that, “well, in that case, I’m going to try and take a nap before dinner”.   

Getting up you make your way to Sam and bend over to place a small kiss on his head, “I’m going to try and grab a nap, do you two want to join me?” you whisper in his ear, not wanting to interrupt anyone’s movie time…..and now I’m certain Steve is singing along ang actually knows all the songs.  

He smiles and nods, following behind you and into the room you are staying in

Sam got Joy settled in her crib before turning back to me, pulling me into a much needed hug.  “How do you always know when I need you?” you mumbled into his chest.  

“That’s my job” he smiled down at you “so I take it the meeting didn’t go well?”  

"It went as well as could be expected, I'm just trying to wrap my head around the time frame I gave them. Two weeks is a bit short to transition my cases to someone else and pack up my apartment but, the sooner the better I suppose" you are rambling as Sam put Joy in her crib and is now sitting on the bed watching you. 

"You are relocating?  Are you moving back to NY? I didn't realize that was an option when you made this trip…..does this have anything to do with Bucky?" he barely whispers with a worried look on his face. 

"What? Sam, no, none of this has to do with Bucky" you aren't sure why he thought that and look at him confused.  

"I…..I remember how broken hearted you were when we met, if you still love him, I would like to know…..I deserve to know since you are the mother of my children" you had never seen Sam so distressed in your life.  

He was the most confident man you had ever met, the lawyer that owned the courtroom as soon as he walked in.  You couldn't believe that he would ever be concerned with someone you used to date. 

"Oh Sam" you hold his face in your hands as you settle in his lap. "There is nothing left between Bucky and I, he was a part of my past, and might be a friend in the future,  but you are the only man I have ever truly loved with my entire being" looking into his eyes you see some relief so you lean in and kiss him softly but passionately. 

"The meeting was my resignation, or retirement as SHIELD prefers to call it. I'm leaving DC so we can all be together in Kansas all the time."  

He looks at you shocked "you quit? You love your job, I didn't think you would ever leave."  

You smile at him "I do, I love my job, but my family,  you, our kids are so much more important than any job could ever be" 

"Our kids" he whispers as you runs his hand over your stomach "we're having another baby and our family will all be under one roof….this has been an incredible day" he looks at you lovingly before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you as close to him as possible. 

"I'm sorry I didn't explain that before I left, but you know how exhausted I was the first time, there's no way I could continue this case on Roman being pregnant. Speaking of, do you think we could change the wedding date?  If we stick with our current plan, I'll be a whale walking down the aisle" you grimace at the thought of waddling in a wedding dress. 

He chuckles at you before kissing you, "whatever you want is fine by me"  

"Do you think your mom would be ok with us planning something small in the next month or so, before I start showing?" 

He laughs at your excitement to move things along so quickly "mom would love it, she works well under pressure"  

"Ok, let's try to rest before your princess wakes up" Sam and you snuggle into the bed wrapped up in each other's arms.  

It felt like you had just closed your eyes when you suddenly felt the bed shift.  Opening your eyes slowly, you came face to face with beautiful hazel eyes, had it not been for the giggles and tiny hands patting your cheek, you might have thought you were looking at Sam.  

“Joy sweetie” you whisper “how did you get out of your crib?” pulling her down to snuggle with you a bit longer.  

“Tevin hep me out” she giggles again before getting up and climbing over you to sit on Sam’s torso.  He didn’t move, but you could tell by his breathing that he was awake, and most likely ready to strike on Joy at any moment.  

It’s one of the things you love when you are all under one roof.  Not living in the same state is hard, and you both worked really hard to make things as normal as possible for Joy, but seeing them together, simple little things like this made your heart swell.  

She adored her dad, and had no idea it wasn’t normal for you to all be in the same house, but that would soon change.  Before you were too lost in your thoughts, Joy was squealing while Sam was tickling her, the fake sleep surprise attack never failed. 

Looking at them you laughed and attempted to get out of the bed, but you heard Sam whisper “let’s get mommy” and before you knew it, you were being tickled and attacked by both of them.  

By the time the three of you made it to dinner, everyone was there and of course Tony had everything catered and a full staff serving, and of course he needed to make a toast to make sure everyone knew it was an official ‘family’ dinner. 

 Clinking his glass he raised it in the air and everyone followed suit, you were about to grab the wine glass but quickly changed to the water in front of you.  

“To an ever expanding family, salut” Tony cheered as everyone followed suit and took a drink.  The table was full of laughter and chatter from everyone, even Morgan and Joy were chatting away as the best of friends. 

“So Sam” Bruce turned toward Sam “how did you propose to Y/N?” for some reason, that question got most of the tables attention and everyone was looking at the two of you.  

“Well, which time?” Sam asked with a smirk.   

You knew that this would come to bite you in the ass one day, but you had hoped it was with Sam’s family, not yours.  

“Wait…..you proposed more than once?” Steve asked, you could tell he was trying to seem like it was an innocent question, but he was really trying to understand the person you had become since you left NY.  

“Three times to be exact” Sam said with more confidence than you had expected.  You shook your head knowing everyone expected an explanation and you were about to speak when Sam squeezed your hand under the table. 

“Well, the first time was when we found out that our little Joy was on the way.  However, in Y/N defense, we were only together 3 or 4 months at that point, so it probably felt a bit rushed.   The second was about 15 minutes after Joy was born and it was a very emotional day for all of us.  The successful proposal was just a few months ago, and we went on a little road trip, and I proposed at the same chapel where her parents were married” Sam turned to you fondly and placed a sweet kiss on your cheek.  

“Wow, you are even more difficult than Pepper, I never realized that before” Tony smirked as he lifted his glass.  

“Very funny, Tony.   In my defense, the first two were spur of the moment emotional proposals and not thought through.  I didn’t refuse, but knew that you needed to really think things out before taking such a big step” you tried to explain your reasoning, but not sure if it was for yourself or everyone else. 

“They may have been spur of the moment, but they were most definitely thought through” Sam replies with a smug look while still eating and assisting your daughter with her meal.  

You looked up at him a bit confused and was about to ask more when he continued by bringing your hand to his lips and gently kissing your knuckles.  

“I bought that ring after our 3rd date, I just had to convince you that I wanted you for who you are and not what you have given to me since we met.”  

You were shocked, you had no idea he knew for that long that he wanted this life with you, it had all felt it just happened and you went with it.  You were actually speechless at this point and could see the glint in his eyes as you processed what he said.   Leaning in, you kissed him gently and looked into those amazing hazel eye, this is where you always belonged. 

[darylandbethfanforever9]

Devil’s Backbone

Devil’s Backbone

Chapter 2

AN: I hope everyone is enjoying the story so, far and here is chapter 2 :)

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+

Warnings: Smut, violence, flashbacks of past sexual assault, descriptions of torture and racial hate. Tony is not a good guy from chapter 2.

Relationships: Bucky/OC, Steve/Natasha, Billy/Wanda/Grant, Sam/Sharon, Clint/Laura and Yelena/Frank Castle/Karen Page.

Summary: In the aftermath of the Blip, Bucky struggled to find his place among the world and the Avengers. However, when he is sent on a mission to Madripoor to investigate a mysterious woman, he starts to realize maybe his past isn’t too far behind. Co-Written with WalkingPotterGirl14.

Bucky felt stunned at what he was seeing as he saw the young woman break into Natasha's room. She came out freshly showered and wearing Natasha's clothes. He couldn't see her face, as she had back turned to the cameras before walking down the hallway and going into Wanda's bedroom. She came out a few minutes later, with nothing but plenty of bottles of Wanda's shampoo and conditioner. Wanda looked stunned by what she was seeing, watching as she walked further down the hallway. The woman then broke into Yelena's bedroom. She was in there far longer than she had been in Wanda's room, and sooner or later the woman left with a suitcase, before the security camera went fuzzy. "We don't have any security footage of her face, as she kept her back to the cameras. She knew where she was going…but why did she go into Wanda, Yelena and Natasha's bedrooms?" Billy asked wearily. They didn't even know who she was. "Natasha and Yelena believe that someone escaped the HYDRA base in Belarus and hid on the quinjet. I want Romanoff, Russo, Belova, and Stark to check the HYDRA base again to see if we missed something," Fury instructed sternly. Everyone nodded and left to do what the director had instructed. "Where do you want the rest of us, sir?" Steve asked gravely. He knew this was serious. Whoever this woman was, she'd been able to remain undetected by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "I want you, Barnes, Barton, Maximoff, Ward, and Wilson to search the nearby streets for any sign of this woman. Whoever she is, she might be a threat to us," Fury said gravely, and everyone nodded in understanding.

The flight to Madripoor was eight hours. Ana passed the time by catching up with the world events that had occurred when she had been placed in cyro by her handlers. The WHIH news was reporting on a terrorist group called the Flag Smashers being sent to an underwater prison called the Raft, along with their sympathizers. The group had blown up a GRC Supply Depot in Riga, Latvia, killing seventy-nine people and injuring plenty of civilians. Five of the victims had families, with one having just started the job, and was a father of two. She shook her head in disgust. Ana was no saint in any way. She had blood on her hands, but she never deliberately tried to kill civilians during her missions. The faces of the people she had killed in the name of HYDRA or the Red Room cut her deeply. She had never wanted this life when she had lived at the orphanage. All she had dreamed about was of becoming a ballet dancer, like her mother before she had passed away. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to land at Madripoor airport. There will be slight turbulence due to strong winds," the voice of the pilot announced gravely. Everyone fastened their seat-belts, and Ana avoided looking out of the window. She loved the sea, but she had a terrible fear of drowning after one of the girls in the Red Room nearly drowned her at the swimming pool. The plane landed gracefully with people gradually leaving. Ana allowed a couple to leave first before she went to exit. She went into the airport, as she walked to the luggage hold area, and grabbed her suitcase, heading out as quickly as possible. Her next stop was going to High Town and getting settled in. She needed to find information on all these players, including on Peggy Carter's niece who was still living in Madripoor, despite being pardoned by the US government. She put on her dark tinted sunglasses, before going to the garage and found a black Suzuki Ignis in the car park. She smiled slightly before picking up the keys, and saw the car had black tinted windows. She hoped the windows were bulletproof, but she decided not to tempt fate. At least, not yet.

Bucky was in the living room with Steve, Sam, Wanda, Grant, and Clint, reading through the documents about the Black Widow Ops program. It felt like a dead end, until he saw a name on the list of girls in the program. 'Anastasia Liukin.' "Are we sure that Natasha and Yelena were the only two who survived the Red Room Program? What if someone else survived?" Sam was the one who asked question that all of them had been thinking. An uneasy silence fell upon them. Natasha and Yelena were very secretive about their time in the Red Room. Bucky knew both of them due to having trained them in the Red Room, and his past relationship with Natasha. Not that it was something that either he nor Natasha liked to be reminded or think about. He didn't have happy memories of his time in the Red Room. If anything, it was something that gave him nightmares. He was the bogeyman to the girls in the Red Room. A terrifying man who would harshly discipline them if they failed in any of the lessons. Failure in ballet, languages, gymnastics, or espionage was not tolerated by the superiors in the Red Room. Faintly, he remembered a young woman around sixteen being sent to be trained by him. She had been Yelena's age, but the superiors and other girls hadn't liked the fact that she still remained kind, even refusing to kill other girls in the class. He didn't know what had happened to her, but he knew Melina Vostokoff had worked as a trainer in the academy. He hated the cold bitch, and she didn't like him either and neither did her husband. Hmm…he really did wonder what happened to her. Thinking about her more, all he could remember is her refusal every time they tried to trick her into doing something painful. She was so sweet…The Red Room must have ruined her. They never let anyone out who doesn't obey them. Goddamnit…he wished his memory weren’t so damn fuzzy. "This file really says everything we need to know," Steve states quietly, turning the pages. "Anastasia Liukin…a young girl who grew up in an orphanage after her mother died…enhanced physiology, holy shit…Nat might know something seriously about this girl. Yelena too." Sam takes the folder from him, looking over it quickly. "She was abandoned at an orphanage until she was seven and then they took her away to the Red Room under the guise she would be a ballerina…there they trained her." He lowers the file and looks to Steve. "They have to know something about this…but why would they keep it a secret?" "Maybe she's really dangerous?" Wanda suggests. "It's not like them to keep dangerous threats from us," Clint argues quietly. "There has to be another reason why." "Hold on a minute," Steve mutters, getting up and heading over to where the taping was from earlier, playing it back on the screen. He had the file in one hand and looked back and forth as the video played. "What if the possible person that snuck into here was her?" "But they said-" "Wanda, I don't know if you know this, but Nat and Yelena have plenty of secrets from us," Steve says quietly, turning to her. "If this was another one of their secrets, then I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe the moment we got into the HYDRA base, we activated something, and it woke her up if she was in cyro or something, like Buck was. What if the reason she didn't activate F.R.I.D.A.Y. was because she's a spy like them? A soldier?" Steve looks over at Bucky, who was continuously looking at a picture of the girl from before. His brow furrows. "What's up, Bucky?" "I…I think I saw her." Everyone's eyes turn to him, all their attention focused on his one phrase. God, he hated being the center of their eyes. Steve walks over to where he sat, moving to sit next to him. "What do you mean?"

"I…wanted a quick drink of coffee and something sweet…Alpine was resting and I decided to head down to the coffee shop below my place to grab something and there was this girl who…bought two cookies for herself and a coffee…I didn't have enough money to get my own cookie and she overheard so she came over and gave one of hers to me…I felt like she looked familiar, I…I didn't know if it was her or not, I…" He runs his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry, guys." "Bucky, don't apologize. It has nothing to do with you. Not like we knew any better at the time." He looks down at the file. "However, if it was, we might be able to figure out where she is now. Maybe if we confront Nat and Yelena with this information, we can figure out how to find her." Bucky nods quietly. "Okay…okay, yeah, we can do that."

She had to admit, the Power Broker was hard to get by, but after some scrounging around, Ana was able to set up a meeting with the guy, having to stumble into his overtly large and grand apartment. She had to admit, it was quite the nice place. Part of her wished it were hers. "Ah, I see you've finally arrived," a voice called out to her as she walked into a large living room. She raises her brow to see a man come out who honestly didn't look like much, but she knew the power he had. "The woman of the hour. The escaped Red Room agent. The-" "Cut the crap," she states, crossing her arms against her chest. "Let's get down to business. I have a lot of money and I certainly can't use it in the United States. I want to start up here. What are my options?" The man chuckles and shakes his head. "You are assertive, I'll give you that." He grabs a drink for her, but she dismisses it, taking a seat down. She wasn't dumb enough to accept a drink from a stranger. The man shrugs and turns back around. "Having a tough day, huh?" "It's any other day. I just want to make sure I can afford the place I'm staying at, is all," she states lightly, looking up at him. "And I know that you can be the man to do that." The Power Broker snickers and shakes his head, going to sit opposite from her. "You're sweet to think you can suddenly overwhelm me like that, but if work is what you want, it is what you can get. You're a strong little girl, huh?" She feels her hands turn to fists. She hated when people said that. "I can tell from that face you got. There's years of death in those eyes, huh?" "Are you going to give me a job or not?" She asks through gritted teeth. "Isaiah Bradley," he states simply before grabbing a remote from the couch, pulling up a picture on the TV in front of them. "Do you know of him?" "I've…heard of him," she states slowly. "He was a test subject for the Super-Soldier serum years ago, but they really did really bad shit to him. Have no idea where he is now, though." "Well, I do," the Power Broker states, standing. "Isaiah is currently in Baltimore, Maryland, assumingly trying to hide out the rest of his days. But I don't plan for that to happen." Ana stands, her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" "You see, Anastasia-" "Ana," she corrects. "Ana," he answers, with a grim smile. "I'm in the business of power. I give people the power that they want for a price. One of those ways I have done it is through the Super Soldier serum…sadly, those bloody Avengers took out one of my main scientists that was recreating the serum for me…but luckily, when one person falls, two others shall take their place. They have all of the info that they need to continue making the serum and bringing me more power than before, but all I need is Isiah." Ana stares at him in horror. "You're going to make more of those serums that killed so many people? That created those Flag-Smashers? There has to be another way-" "There is no other way for power, my dear," the man states, coming over to her. "You want safety? You want to make sure you're in charge of your life? You capture Isiah for me with your skills, and I'll make sure that money you have will never leave your side, and the power you gain will only grow. It's your choice." Ana didn't even know what to say. She knew what the serum did to people. She knew how terrifying it was. There was no way she was going to let someone like him take that again. Let him control people with that. So, she swallows and takes a step back, before grabbing the drink he had offered her earlier. Fuck it. "You can't find anyone else?" She asks slightly, feeling around her belt for a moment. "To do this dirty work?" "I could, but I'm quite positive that having someone from the Red Room do it for me would be the best option, for you and myself." She nods slightly before turning to face him, swallowing the whole drink in one sitting. It was now or never. "You see…I've always been in favour of getting what I want, so yes, in your eyes, this might be your best option for me…but it's not in my head." She lowers the glass to the table. "For me, the best option IS Madripoor…owning the city as you do. Isaiah Bradley has been through hell and back, and I don't intend to bring him forward to endure more of that pain." The man lowers his glass to the table. "Ana, I-" "I'm going to kill you, Power Broker," she states coldly. "You have five seconds to run." He takes off. She counts to five, and then runs quicker, going directly after him.

She chased him through the apartment, catching sight of him trying to run through the back garden once he exited his place. She caught up to him, just as he was heading out, before grabbing him by the back of his jacket, throwing him into the side of a back entrance door. She glared at him in disgust, before dragging him towards her. "I've seen men like you before who don't give a damn about the people they hurt," she said dangerously. The Power Broker started laughing then at her, causing her to stare at him in confusion. "Do you really think I didn't have a contingency plan in place if you refused to capture Isiah, Ana? I sent a black ops team to capture him. I've known where he lives all this time. And if he dies, then I'll just simply use his grandson," he said smugly. Ana saw red in that moment, and promptly knocked him to the point of being unconscious. She pulled out a disposable cell phone, typing in the number and waited impatiently as the phone rang. Finally, after seven rings, the woman answered. "Sharon Carter of Carter Art speaking. How can I help you?" The woman asked pleasantly. Ana decided that she needed to meet with her face to face. But no way in hell, was she giving her real name. She'd use another name. There were a few names that held deep, fond memories for her. "Hello, Miss Carter. This is Olga Omelianchik speaking. I need to speak with you urgently. Is there a place that we can talk?" She asked calmly. Sharon paused on the line. "We'll meet at my place. I'll send a car to pick you up. What's this about?" She asked wearily, causing Ana to smile slightly. The woman wasn't stupid. Then again, the niece of Peggy Carter wouldn't be stupid. "Isaiah Bradley. And send me the address. I'll drive there," Ana answered firmly. Sharon agreed and texted her the address after hanging up. She looked disdainfully at the Power Broker's unconscious body before tying his hands with vibranium handcuffs. She dragged him to the car, throwing his body in the back of the trunk, before starting up the engine and driving away.

Natasha sighed tiredly as they once again began searching the HYDRA base. There was nothing to see until she found a room that had at least ten cyrostasis chambers. One of them looked like it had been recently used, and she noticed footprints on the dust covered floor. Someone had definitely been here recently, but she had no idea who it was. Her mind then wondered to a young girl with light blonde hair, and hazel eyes but her thoughts were interrupted when a voice spoke out. "Anything?" Yelena asked quietly, as she stepped into the room. Natasha shook her head. There wasn't any sign of the mysterious woman but whoever the woman was, she was dangerous. "Nothing aside from an abandoned cyrostasis chamber. I found this file along with a backpack in a safe, but no dice," she answered wearily, showing Yelena the backpack, along with the files. They were all in Russian, which would be translated once they returned to the compound. Sighing, Natasha was relieved when they left the building and made their way to the jet. She couldn't help but feel like she had seen that woman on the security footage before.

Sharon waited wearily for the mysterious young woman to meet with her, and saw a black Suzuki Ignis parking in the driveway. A young blonde-haired young woman came out of the car, wearing a black leather jacket. She looked at her silently. "Sharon Carter?" She asked wearily, Sharon nodded and shook her hand as they walked to the back of the car. Sharon had a feeling that this woman didn't take anyone's bullshit. "That's me…and you are?" she asked cautiously. The young woman smiled slightly at her question. It didn't look like she smiled a lot. Her eyes were hard and guarded. "Ana Liukin…I have a proposition for you that I believe will benefit both of us, and your friends who happen to be the Avengers? I know you helped them when Zemo killed Dr. Nadler," Ana offered. Sharon stared at her in surprise before nodding and the woman opened the boot of her car to the young woman. Sharon was greeted by the sight of the Power Broker, tied up and unconscious in Ana's car. She stared at Ana in a stunned silence, before regaining her composure. "What do you need my help with?" She asked cautiously as Ana admired the cherry blossom trees that were blooming in her garden. "I need you to send a message to the Avengers about Isaiah Washington. The Power Broker sent a black ops team to capture him and his grandson. He wants to recreate the super-soldier serum," she explained quickly to her, Sharon nodded in understanding, and glanced at the Power Broker. "What are you going to do about him?" She questioned curiously, genuinely interested. "I'll deal with him, don't worry…I think it's time that Madripoor had a new leader, one that cleans up the place," Ana answered smoothly, before getting in her car and driving away. Sharon watched her go, impressed but also stunned by what the younger woman was doing.

Sam felt his phone vibrate before turning it on and seeing a text from Sharon. He frowned. Sharon had been working undercover for Fury but hadn't come back after the Flag Smashers and Karli had been sent to the Raft. 'Isaiah Bradley's been compromised. The Power Broker's sent a black ops team to kidnap him and his grandson. Get them out of there, Sam!' "Steve, Bucky, Clint! Wanda! We need to get to Baltimore NOW!" He shouted urgently. "Whoa, whoa, what's going on?" Bucky asks, running over to him as soon as he heard him yelling. "It's Isaiah. The Power Broker sent a team after him – we need to stop them now!" He urges. "Sharon just let me know!" Steve nods, a determined look on his face. "Then let's get going."

They had raced out to the quinjet as soon as possible, getting on as quickly as they could until they raced off to where Baltimore was. Luckily, the city wasn't too far with their mode of transportation, and within a little bit of time, they had arrived, heading straight to where Isiah's house was. As soon as they did, they could see that there were people trying to break in. But that ended almost as quickly as it began, as Steve had used his shield to knock out several of the guys while the rest of them got to work. Bucky took out a couple with his skills, Sam with his gear, Clint with his arrows and Wanda with her powers. It was times like this that Bucky actually remembered that they worked well as a team most of the time. He wished they were given more things to do like this. Show his worth to more people. Once the threat was taken out, they called the police, getting them, all sent to their cars. Bucky had wiped the blood from his face as he takes a seat down, watching as Isiah talked to Steve quietly, thanking him for coming. Even in his age with the serum, Isiah was still old. He wouldn't have been able to take on all those guys at once. "You doing alright?" He hears from above, seeing Wanda take a seat down next to him. "Seems like you're lost up here." She points to her head. Bucky chuckles a bit and shrugs his shoulders. "Just thinking about everything we do…I feel like Fury doesn't…I don't know, trust me enough yet." He looks over at her. "It's always team missions and it's never really with the ones that work together – all of us work well but then I go on missions with Sam, and we get along fine but Tony is there, or Yelena might come…I just wish more people would trust me, but I know nothing is built overnight." Wanda sighs quietly before gesturing to her. "When I first came here, he didn't trust me either. It takes time to gain the man's trust. You did try to kill him once."

Bucky cringes before rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, you're right about that." At that moment, Clint comes around, his phone in his hands. "Hey, did you ever ask Sharon how she found that out?" "I did but she's being sort of sketchy about it," Sam answers honestly. "She won't tell me. Says there was some deal between her and a girl. Don't know who…but whoever it is, apparently she's taking down the Power Broker." Bucky's brow raises in surprise. "Just like that? She pops up out of nowhere?" "Sometimes that happens. A brand-new enemy comes around and makes the weaker one bite the dust," Clint remarks, sharpening his arrows. "If she is becoming a new Power Broker, we need to keep an eye out then…but if she was like the current one, then why would she warn us?" That was the question everyone was thinking. And no one quite had the answer to it.

As soon as she had dragged the Power Broker out of her car and back into his fancy shmancy apartment, he was practically begging for his life. She had him pinned up to a chair in his kitchen, her knife at his neck. She had told him about how she stopped his plan, how nothing was going to work as he had wanted, and now, he was going to die. He pleaded, screamed, tried to bargain, but in the end, all she wanted was his seat. His place. His power. So, she slits his throat. His blood flies onto her clothes, but she doesn't flinch. It doesn't take long for the life in him to drain out, and she tilts her head, looking at the dead body, all she can think is how aggravating it was going to be cleaning the blood from the floor. She undoes his handcuffs and watches as the body fell. If she had this power…she was surely going to make sure someone else took this damn body away. She was done hiding her sins. "Excuse me?" She calls out to an intercom, which she is met with a surprising "Yes?" She responds "Your little leader is dead. I request you come up and take him before I take you out too." There was silence on the other line for a good couple of seconds before the respond with a "Yes, ma'am." Now THAT sounded good. She took a shower after that, and by the time she had emerged with new clothes, the body was gone, and the blood cleaned. She smiles as she heads into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of wine from his wine fridge and takes a seat down, glancing outside at the skyline of Madripoor. This whole city would be hers…at a cost. The Power Broker would kill anyone innocent to get what he wants. She drew the line at that…God knows she had done enough of it long ago. Ana sighs as she takes a sip of her wine, remembering her last moments in New York City. Her mind kept going back to the man in the coffee shop she had met not long before her flight. What was it about him? Was it his eyes? His hair? His beard? Why was she spending so much time- She gasps, the drink suddenly dropping from her hand and onto the floor, shattering. A pillar of memories struck her. That man wasn't a stranger. That man was the fucking Winter Soldier. The man that had trained her in the Red Room. "H…holy shit," she whispers, bringing a hand to her mouth in shock. It all made sense now. Why he looked so stressed, why he thought she looked familiar too…he must not have recognized her either. She wondered if he knew now. What a fucking day. She runs her hands through her hair. God…the memories she had with the Winter Soldier.

tag list: @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @sapphirescrolls @americasass81 @americasasssssssss @james-bucky-barnes-imagines @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @giorno-plays-piano @threeminutesoflife @marvelfansworld @connie326 @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @lex-the-flex @queenoftheunderdark @navybrat817 @world-of-aus @the-soulofdevil @gogolucky13 @writersbuck @mypoisonedvine @captain-barnes-writes and @nomadicpixel and @nsfwsebbie 

[brandywine-tomatoes]

Kyu Sakamoto - an excerpt

Literally just procrastination writing from yesterday. I created 2 badass lesbian ocs for the MCU (mainly Rogers, Barnes, and Wilson's stories) and now I have a 7-page outline...... been in the fandom for 3 days..... ANYWAYS

Masterlist

@icedcoffee101 and @dragon-pups pushed me to write this sad excerpt, so here you go everyone!

TW: sad/depressing thoughts, questioning existence for a hot second, honestly it's just really fucking depressing, but I love it nonetheless.

Word count: 1519

Prompt/Inso: my 7-page outline of badass lesbians that keep an eye on bucky when he's the winter soldier (this excerpt isn't about that tho)

QUICK NOTE: this is during the events of TFATWS, episode 5 I believe? And Grace is mute, so she uses sign language (tho she's only in the flashback). So yeah. Enjoy some sad angst!

--

“Well,” she picked up the leather bag from the chair, holding it up with a smirk. “I brought records.”

Bucky’s resting bitch face turned up into a small smile. The only person with a decent music taste thankfully brought records to Sam’s ‘let’s finally work on this fucking boat’ party with most of the neighbours and people owing favours. Everyone was milling around, fixing whatever they were assigned to fix and laughing in the cool bay breeze.

“I sure hope you have 60s stuff in that huge bag of yours,” he chuckled, walking past her up the dock to bring the record player from the shore. She held the heavy bag with one arm as she unzipped the zipper, an old and dusty smell escaping the inside and showing the spines of dozens of records.

“You pack all those just for us, Ash?” Sarah came up beside her, admiring all the casings.

“I found them stuffed in a closet back in Africa. I thought I’d revisit some old favourites,” she smiled at her.

Bucky and Sam came back down the dock with the record player in tow and an amp, talking with each other about god knows what. They set the gear down on a bench, plugging in the amp. The four of them dug into the bag, each of them taking out 2 or 3 records each to examine.

“Damn, you really like your slow songs, huh?” Sam spoke up, showing her the record covers in his hands were indeed black and white photos and words she didn’t understand.

She smiled brightly. “Yup! The 60s were the times of slow songs, the best ones.”

“I full-heartedly agree,” Bucky laughed. He slid a perfect disk out its paper cover and carefully placed it on the spindle, sliding over the needle to the first song ridge.

“I hope you picked something upbeat,” Sarah said.

The music flooded through the amp, the old-sounding and staticy bass vibrating through the deck and resonated in everyone’s hearts. People started taking their wives and husbands and kids to dance to the seemingly upbeat song.

Sasha just stared wide-eyed at the spinning disk, a long shoved down lump of unshed sobs pushing up her throat.

--

‘We don’t have anywhere else to go, we have the papers, and we have the rings,’ Grace signed quickly, pulling Sasha through the doorway gently and resting her hands on her waist, Sasha’s hands instinctively moving to behind her neck.

“All we need is a song, Graceless,” she smiled softly, mesmerized by her new wife’s radiating happiness and her beautiful smile that could seemingly never be darkened. The white curtains blew gently in front of the open window by their records, the moon's soft glow flooding the hardwood floors the only light they needed.

She nodded in return. Grace pulled away and walked to their stack of brand-new records, picking the one off the top and putting the needle of the travel-sized player on the first song.

‘We better thank him for his demos,’ Grace signed, then extended a hand to her wife. Sasha smiled so brightly as she took it.

“The neighbours will have a fit, it’s 3 o’clock in the morning,” Sasha whispered, putting her chin on Grace’s shoulder and started swaying slowly with one hand lightly holding Grace’s and another around her arm.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Grace tapped on her shoulder in a familiar rhythm.

She sighed in contentment. Why couldn’t every day be like this, nothing to worry about other than what song to choose, no people to run after, no running from Hydra. Just the soft blowing of curtains and Kyu Sakamoto on their travel record player.

“If you say so, Ana.”

--

“Ash, you alright? You look like you’re about to cry,” Sarah laughed awkwardly and put a hand on Sasha’s shoulder, bringing her back from her wedding night. The others started to notice the reddening of her eyes and the shaking of her hands.

She walked away from the 3 of them, vaguely registering someone's failed attempt at reaching out to grab her wrist.

She couldn’t cry here, not in front of people she didn’t know and wouldn’t understand. She picked up the pace, the dammed river behind her eyes becoming unbearable to keep holding up. Soon enough she was running up the green hill leading to Sam’s house with no intention of stopping until she was with the love of her life again. Running might get her there, it might get her back in her arms, swaying softly to Kyu Sakamoto back in Africa.

She ran across the street of the empty house, bursting through the green forest and didn’t stop. The stray tears escaping her eyes were pushed past her face from the wind, clouding her eyesight.

--

“What was that?” Sarah asking, concern evident on her face.

Bucky sighed in realization of what he did. He dropped his face into his hands groaning. “Shit.”

“What-”

He started walking up the dock to make up for lost time. He shouted back to his friends, “It’s her god damn wedding song.”

“Oh shit,” Sam whispered. He didn’t know much about Sasha or her history, but he remembers her and her deceased wife, how much they loved each other. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what force would be able to pull them apart. They were both super-soldiers, they lived longer than Bucky or Steve had, they had more than half a century of camaraderie. She was off the grid for 7 years after her death. “Oh shit.”

“I didn’t know Sasha’s married,” Sarah tried to lighten the mood.

“It’s a long story.”

--

When Sasha finally collapsed in the dense forest, the light shining through the trees dimmed and turned the colour of the orange clouds above. Little streaks of light escaped the canopy and left little spots of highlighted roots or fallen leaves. Grace would try to step in every streak of light, sign that Sasha should help her find all the new tree sprouts and clear the leaves from around it to give it a fighting chance at survival.

She kneeled in the dirt beside an old and tall tree, the fabric of her jeans digging into the soft earth and the moisture seeping across her knees. The first sob she let go made her feel so weak and helpless, like a wounded puppy trying to fight its way off the streets. After that, she only thought of Grace coming up behind and hugging the life out of her, trying to make her feel as safe as possible. But she’d never feel the bone-crushing safety again, only the hollow and emptiness of her evaporated shadow.

She cried and sobbed and spread her tears around her face well into the darkness of night with only the moon to watch in pity. The sleeves of her white crew neck were dried with snot and dirt and pieces of bark from the tree she was leaning on. It was only a dent, a chip off the sorrow she felt, and it didn’t make her feel any better. Nothing would make her feel better.

Her legs were numb under her body, prickling like hundreds of needles were puncturing her skin. Her hands were rested in the dirt, fiddling with dried chucks as she stared out an open spot in the canopy. It was a clear night, a couple stars blinked back at her tired and puffy red eyes.

She was in the middle of thinking that sinking into the old tree supporting her side would solve her problems when the sound of leaves crunching beneath footsteps came closer and closer and eventually stopped just off to the side of her.

“I’m sorry, Sasha,” Bucky’s words were genuine. She stayed silent, grimacing at the change of sound. “I wasn’t thinking.”

She turned her head to look at him, a frown etched in his face as he took in the sight of how small she looked, how the whites of her eyes were clearly bloodshot, even visibly in the silver light.

“I hope you never find someone that makes you feel this way,” her voice was beyond strained and wavered at every word.

“Sasha-”

“Her real name was Anastasia, like the Grand Duchess. After Hydra tried to burn the warehouse down, we assumed other names,” she looked back to the canopy. “It meant resurrection.”

“Look-”

“I’m not coming back, James. This country has her blood smeared on its soil and I’ll never be able to forgive it.”

Bucky was surprised, to say the least. “We need you here, Sasha.”

She turned a cold and raging glare at him. “We helped you enough. We spent decades helping you. I’m done.”

She had a hard time using her numb legs to get up and the tree's roots around her didn’t help either. Bucky held out a hand for her to take. A last helping move before she left. He knew he wouldn't be able to talk her out of it.

She gripped his flesh hand tightly and hoisted herself up, steadying herself and shaking the blood back into her limbs. She nodded at his darkened face.

“Goodbye, James Barnes.”

--

A/N: WAS THAT SAD OR WHAT?! I teared up a couple times writing this, ngl. If y'all find this interesting, let me know! I need the motivation to write the real fic with Grace and Sasha alive, Sasha isn't always deep in a depressive state with Grace dead.

ANYWAYS! Go drink some water, go have a snack, take a break, you deserve it so much, I'm so proud of you for getting this far!! ❤️❤️

(The nickname 'Graceless' came from my friend Shae and her friend on Insta 💕💕)

[thejolexgroupchat]

Hi! Love all the fics you guys write :) could you guys do one where Jo and Alex were together before Alex even started his intern year? Like idk they met somehow while Jo was in college & Alex was in led school and started dating. Everyone tries to hook up with Alex but he’s got this super secret girlfriend that everyone makes fun of him for. They could still have a large age gap or they could be like a year or two apart. Basically, I just want to see Alex holding out for Jo and being super proud & showing her off when she gets into the residency program.

the one where they met in med school - part one

So... we absolutely LOVED this prompt, took it and ran with it. This originally was supposed to be a one-shot, but it kind of grew out of control and became what it is now.

This fic was written by @iamtrebleclefstories (Leya), @doc-pickles (Nina), and tumblr-less Nat

                                                           ———

                                                       (July 2006)

“Hey! I miss you,” Jo smiled as she talked into the phone. “How was your first week as an intern?”

“Honestly? It sucked. But it was also amazing. I don’t know if that makes sense,” Alex replied, shrugging although he knew she couldn’t see him. “And for the record, I miss you more.”

“That’s impossible. You’re so busy you don’t even have time to miss me,” Jo chuckled. “Me on them other hand? My life revolves around school and studying. Studying isn’t as fun without you around. I miss our study dates.”

“I do too,” Alex sighed. He really did miss her. A lot. All the time. He’d only been living in Seattle for a month and it was definitely a challenge. He really didn’t know how he was going to make it through the next year without her. “But at least you have Lexie there. You’re not completely alone.”

“Yeah you’ve got a point,” Jo hummed. “But Lexie doesn’t do all the things for me that you do, if you know what I mean.”

Alex groaned, “Stop it. We’re way too far away from each other to do this. I need you so bad right now and I can’t have you and it sucks.”

“Tell me about it,” Jo agreed. She couldn’t believe how far they’d come. She and Alex had been together for about 2 ½ years now. In all that time, they’d been attached at the hip. He was her best friend and she was his. It was odd not seeing him everyday. It was unnatural to sleep without him beside her at night like he’d been doing for years. “I have a week-long break next month though and I was thinking of coming to visit. I’ve saved up a bunch of money from tutoring undergrads.”

“Would it be bad of me to just keep you locked up in my apartment the whole time you’re here, because that sounds appealing,” Alex’s words sparked a string of laughter from Jo, making him sigh down the line. “I miss hearing your laugh and that makes me feel pathetic. It feels like I’m in one of those stupid rom coms you and Lexie forced me to watch all the time.” “We didn’t force you, you readily agreed to it, Karev,” Lexie’s voice echoed faintly in the background, Jo shushing her as the two bickered quietly. 

“Am I on speaker?” 

“Um… maybe?” Jo shrugged, knowing that he couldn’t see her through the phone. “You can’t possibly be embarrassed. Lexie has seen and heard worse from you.”

“I sure have,” Lexie yelled out from her spot across the room. “Keep going! Don’t let me stop you from being all mushy and talking about how much you miss Jo.”

Alex rolled his eyes, “Keep your comments to yourself, let me enjoy my girlfriend for a little while please.”

“So, tell me. Did you make any friends yet?” Jo asked. 

“What is this? Middle school?” Alex scoffed. “I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to become a surgeon. A kickass, rich, plastic surgeon.”

“Yes I’m sure between the scut work and the enemas you have plenty of time to dream about all the money you’re gonna make,” Jo giggled down the line. 

“Oh, you just wait. When you’re an intern I’m going to have you doing all my scut,” Alex warned playfully. “You’ll be sorry for making fun of my career aspirations.”

“I just can’t see you going into plastics,” Jo confessed, a large grin on her face. “Not that you wouldn’t be good at it, but I just don’t see it. Maybe general or ortho!”

“General? Wow I didn’t realize you thought so little of me,” Alex leaned back onto the brick wall behind him as he listened to the sounds of Jo’s quiet laughter. 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with general,” Jo insisted. She groaned as she saw the time. The worst part about Alex moving across the country was the time difference. “I wish I could talk more, but I really have to get ready for bed. I will try to call you tomorrow evening.”

“I’m on-call tomorrow,” Alex revealed sadly. “I hate this. I went from going to bed next to you every night to struggling to even find some time during the day to talk.”

“I know,” Jo sighed. “I hate it, too. Of course I wish you were here, but I am so proud of you.  You’re living the dream right now, Alex. If that means I have to miss you for a little while, so be it.”

God, he really loved this woman. Alex smiled and clutched the phone tightly, “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too,” Jo answered. It still made her heart beat quickly whenever she heard him say those words. He’d been the first person to ever say them to her and mean it. “Go kick some ass.”

“I will,” Alex chuckled. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.”

Alex hung up his phone and sighed as he walked back into the bar across the street from the hospital. He walked back up to the group of his fellow interns and ordered a beer, staring at his phone for a moment before finally putting it back in his pocket. 

“What’s up with you?” Yang asked. “You look all, mopey.” 

“It’s nothing,” Alex shook his head.

“No, she’s right. You look depressed,” Grey seconded. 

“I’m fine,” Alex took a swig of his beer. “I’m just a little homesick.”

“You know what will cheer you up? Getting laid. You see that girl over there,” Yang pointed to a woman across the bar with red hair and blue eyes. “She’s been eyeing you for a while now. I’m sure if you asked she’d say yes.”

“I don’t need to get laid,” Alex narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re uptight. Isn’t he Stevens?” Yang asked the woman he’d identified as Dr. Model. 

“He is,” Stevens nodded, laying her hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I know we’ve only known each other for like a week, but this is the most disappointed and depressed that I’ve seen you. And that’s saying a lot, considering that we are surgical interns and basically slaves to the hospital.”

"I'm not depressed and I do not need to get laid," Alex grumbled, taking a swig of his beer. "If you must know, I was on the phone with my girlfriend."

"Evil Spawn has a girlfriend?" Cristina raised an eyebrow. "I didn't take you for a relationship type guy."

"Neither did I, but then I met her. So, just stop pestering and let me mope in peace."

"Wow. Karev has a heart," O'Malley chuckled and took a sip of his drink. "I didn't see that one coming."

“Oh screw you guys, why don’t you go get laid? Being so invested in someone else’s love life has gotta be a sign that you need to get some.”

                                                          ———

                                                   (August 2003)

“Hey! You’re Jo right?” 

Jo turned around to see a young woman with short brown hair and brown eyes smiling at her. Jo outstretched her hand, “Yes. I’m Jo. You’re Lexie, my lab partner right?”

“Yup!  It’s so nice to officially meet you,” Lexie shook Jo’s hand. 

She seemed like a sweet and perky person. The exact kind of person that Jo didn’t normally associate with. For the longest time, Jo didn’t have any friends or get attached to anyone. She had two friends the entirety of her undergrad and typically didn’t look to make any more. Jo supposed it would be nice to have someone, "It's nice to meet you, too."

                                              (September 2003)

"I can't believe you actually did that!" Jo exclaimed as she and Lexie walked down to the lab. "You became another one of Karev's conquests."

"Honestly, I don't even regret it," Lexie confessed, a large smile on her face. "There is a reason why Leah is so hung up on him. He knows what he's doing. You should go for it. Sleeping with him is like a right of passage or something."

"Ew, no way," Jo faked a gag. "He's an ass. I have much higher standards than Alex Karev."

They entered the lab to find the program's resident man-whore going over some samples. Jo had to admit, he was pretty hot. Alex Karev was cocky and charming and incredibly intelligent. He was always getting the highest grades and was every professor's favorite student. She was into him. But she'd never say it out loud.

"Hey, Lexie," Alex smirked as they walked over to their stations. He gave Jo a once over and looked at her with one of his signature crooked grins. "Hello Lexie's friend. You got a name?"

Jo considered staying quiet but finally decided to respond, "Jo Wilson."

"Nice, I like chicks with boys' names."

"Karev, " Lexie warned.

"What? I do. It's hot," Alex shrugged.

"Alex, stop sleeping with all the first years. It ruins them," Lexie admonished.

"I slept with you," Alex pointed out. 

"Yeah, and it's never going to happen again. Besides, Jo's my best friend," Lexie shrugged. "I'm protective of her."

                                                (October 2003)

“I told you I didn’t need you to follow me,” Jo grumbled. “I can take care of myself.”

"Calm down,  princess. There's no need to get your panties in a twist," Alex rolled his eyes at Jo who'd been yelling at him for the past few minutes. They'd been studying with a group of friends in the library when Jo decided to leave and Alex offered to walk her home. “I just don’t think you should be walking home alone with that fancy watch on your wrist that daddy probably gifted you. Can’t risk someone mugging the princess.” 

"Stop calling me princess!" Jo shouted, turning to face Alex as anger bubbled up inside of her. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself for a moment. "My mother left me at a fire station when I was two weeks old. I got bumped around foster homes until I was sixteen when I took matters into my own hands and started living out of a car. I parked it behind the gym of my high school so I could sneak in and use the showers before class. My home ec teacher--Ms. Schmidt--she’d let me do my laundry there for free. And yeah, I got into good schools because I worked my ass off. And when I walked across that stage at graduation, I didn’t have a cheering section filled with my richy-rich family. I had one person, Ms. Schmidt. That’s it. She’s the one who gave me this watch when I got into Med School. Her son works for the company.” 

Alex had the decency to look down at the ground ashamed. He walked up to the wall Jo was leaning against and stood beside her, “It is a nice watch.” 

“Thanks.” 

The next time they see each other, things are different. Understanding Jo’s background gave Alex a deeper appreciation for her work ethic. Even though they were in different years, Alex found himself seeking Jo out for projects and studying. Being around her made him want to be better. He wanted to excel in ways he hadn’t in the past. And that said a lot, considering he was already at the top of his class. 

So that’s why when he saw her sitting at the bar a couple weeks later, he decided to join her. They’d had an argument earlier in the day where some things were said. Alex walked up to the bar and grinned at the bartender, “A beer for me and another round for Hobo Jo. Let me guess… Thunderbird or is it straight paint thinner?” Alex looked back up at the bartender. “You got a little brown paper bag you can put that in?”

“Would you stop,” Jo sighed and looked at Alex. “I had no parents. I lived in my car. Yes I have trust issues, it comes with the territory.” 

“You need to stop acting like you’re the only person who ever had a crappy childhood,” Alex rolled his eyes slightly. 

“Oh yeah? How many foster homes did you get kicked out of before you moved into your car?” 

“Seventeen. And I didn’t live in my car. I went to juvie,” Alex took a sip of his drink. 

“Stop making fun of me,” Jo shook her head. 

“I’m not.” 

Jo’s face scrunched in interest, “Really?”

“And you’re actually lucky that your folks abandoned you. It means you didn’t have to watch your schizo mom go after your baby brother with a steak knife.” 

“Fine, fair,” Jo conceded. “But you never woke up in the middle of the night with junkies banging on your bedroom windshield, praying they’d get tired or bored before they put a rock through a window.”

“No, I didn’t,” Alex shook his head in response. “Because the junkie was my dad and he didn’t break windows, just fingers.” 

“Well, did you ever have foster parents that made you and nineteen other kids sleep on cots in the basement? Locking the doors, lights out, so that if you had to pee in the middle of the night, you had to use buckets they set up along the wall. Buckets you couldn’t see because if you turned the lights on, the bigger kids would hold you down and take those buckets and--” Jo’s voice cracked slightly.

Alex bowed his head in sadness, “God… no, never.” 

“Me neither,” Jo shrugged. “Saw it in a movie on cable.” 

Alex’s mouth twitched into a shocked grin as he let out a few chuckles, “How did you get cable in your car?”

“I don’t live in my car anymore, jerk,” Jo giggled lightly. 

Her story must’ve done the trick to break the ice because before they knew it, Jo and Alex were well on their way to becoming best of friends. They laughed and joked together for hours, even going as far as fake crying to get out of paying their tab. 

“You know, you’re not half bad, Karev,” Jo grinned as she and Alex walked out of the bar. She clutched the sides of Alex’s jacket which he had so kindly allowed her to borrow. “I actually had a lot of fun tonight.” 

“So did I, Wilson,” Alex smiled back at her. “What do you say we grab some tacos and eat them in the back of my truck?”

“Sounds great to me.”

[valkyriesryde]

Masterlist

Last updated: 27 April 2021

Requests: OPEN but at a slow rate (one shots, head canons, or drabbles, please specify in the request if you want a specific one

Crossed out = coming soon

Check out my other fandom stuff: 

To Be A Hero - Bakugou x OC!Female

Drabble Masterlist - Updated 12 June 2020

Headcanons Masterlist - Updated 15 September 2020

Fortune Teller Masterlist 

Bucky Barnes

I’m Going to Spin You: Bucky teaches the reader how to dance in preparation for Tony and Pepper’s wedding.

Proud: Y/N needs to interview someone for a history assignment and who better to go to than Bucky. Mentor!Bucky/Teenage!Reader AU

Beautiful Soul: The team decides to let loose after a rough few months with some singing and some alcohol, what could possibly happen ;)

The Unspoken Deal: When Bucky holds your hand in public, he rubs his thumb against your skin to ground himself when he’s anxious.

Blast From the Past: The gates are open and the memories are back. And maybe it means someday you’ll get normalcy back. 

Sergeant Boinky: Bucky’s got a new interest and Sam and Y/N are taking full advantage of it.

Classy Girls: They met in a bar. Inspire by the song Classy Girls by the Lumineers

You’re Being Dramatic: Bucky sees something he doesn’t like and his mind goes haywire without even finding out the full story. If you want a happy ending to this angst piece this is it. 

Garbage vs Little Shit: The neighbour’s cat is a little shit. The neighbour? Eh...

Abort Mission: It’s Bucky’s turn to catch you reading fanfiction 👀 (companion to Seargeant Boinky but can be read separately) NSFW

Two Nerds in a Blanket: In desperate need for a date to your work's Christmas party you, reluctantly, seek the help of one Bucky Barnes. 

Adore You: Bucky is always asking you for favours, how can you say no to those eyes and that smile? 

Prince Charming: Who’s your favourite Disney princess? Who do you want to be your prince charming? 

Together: You’ve got some news but are too scared to tell Bucky but he’ll find out one way or another 

The Trail We Blaze: Bucky takes a trip down memory lane through his old home and no one is quite sure how he’s taking it.

The Dynamic Between Us: You need a ride and god forbid you have to call Bucky in your time of need. That damned man and his stupid ways of being in your life. 

Multiple Parts:

Fourth of July - Part Two: The Fourth of July is hard for some People but you try and make it a little bit easier with some not so simple editing. COMPLETE 2/2

Place Your Bets: Money is on the line and the months are counting down so who will win the bet to when Bucky and Y/N finally get together? And will they figure out what’s exactly going on? COMPLETE 9/9

Friend or Foe: A dead body comes up on the Avenger’s radar that threatens to leak some unpleasant moments and people from Bucky’s time as the Winter Soldier to his friends that he thought he’d never face again. ON HIATUS INDEFINITELY

Exhibition of Future Technologies: Bucky meets the girl of his dreams the day before he ships out again and she holds a mystery about her that he can’t resist. COMPLETE 4/4

Tough Guy: Bucky swears he’s over it. Y/N swears she’s fine. A cliche when their worlds collide together after all this time. But wounds run deep.  COMPLETE 9/9

Calm - Guardian Angel: She’s there, whenever he needs her she’s there in his ear telling him what he needs to know. Greek Myth AU COMPLETE  2/2

The Lone Kiwi: a series of drabbles that cover the first year of research analyst Samantha Thompson’s career with the Avengers after being recruited by Tony Stark. The New Zealander is thrown into the deep end of American culture and spy life as she packs up and moves halfway around the world. ON HAITUS INDEFINITELY

Steve Rogers

Lady Liberty: A look through the times between Captain America and his Lady Liberty. 1944 - 2017

Reality is Cruel: Y/N’s grip on reality is taken away from her when she’s kidnapped while on a mission. While the team tries to find her she watches her biggest fear happen before her eyes over and over again.

We’re Married: A fluffy modern AU really.

Light and Fluffy: Missions can be tough and so it takes the right attitude to be able to deal with them day after day. You and Steve seem to have different attitudes though.

Our House, Our Rules: Drunk and happy even if the new guy has Y/N nervous but that won’t stop her winning the tournament… 

No More Waiting: Steve has waited long enough and after Thanos, he refuses to wait any longer for the life he wants. A continuation from this drabble. 

I Trust You: Steve doesn’t trust many people. Lest of all you. At least that’s the message you’ve gotten, it might not be the message he’s trying to give you. NSFW

A Question: On the drive home from a mission a serious conversation comes up between the two of you, you should try bowling.

Shut Up: Exams at the SHIELD academy are coming up and with that members of the Avengers have come to observe the next potential heroes. Some are more promising than others. 

Last Call:When Steve finds himself in a dive bar in the middle of no where with nothing left to do but wallow he’s saved by a glass of whisky.

Multiple parts:

Shut Up - Part Two; Vigilante: Exams at the SHIELD academy are coming up and with that members of the Avengers have come to observe the next potential heroes. Some are more promising than others. COMPLETE

Release the Hounds: Hades can’t step foot in the mortal realm, she never strays far from home and isn’t welcome in Olympus. Steve believes the queen should have a place beside her brothers, to rule with them instead of in the shadows, invisible to the eye. Not many share his opinion though and the consequences of that may be worse than the god of spring could have imagined. COMPLETE 15/15 NEW

Sam Wilson

Honey-pie: Sam will do anything to make you his, he’s tired of the back and forth and the fact you’re always taken. He just wants you to be his girl.

Bit of a Weirdo: You’re a bit of a weirdo, always saying wack shit when no one else is around to hear it, except Sam.

Multiple Parts:

Hella Feelings: Sam x OC + Bucky x OC There are always oddballs in apartment buildings, the old lady who always smells like cheeseballs, the guy you’re pretty sure is a drug dealer. Then there’s the two girls who should have ‘chaotic clowns’ written on their foreheads from the amount of laughter that comes from their open windows. There’s also the two guys a couple floors down that have had the police called on them not once but twice for yelling at each other over a video game. Maybe together the four of them can make one normal human being...or then again...maybe just a dumber clown? COMPLETE 11/11

Peter Parker

Evil Spider: Based on the song Evil Spider by Benee. Peter follows the girl who caught his eye home, just to make sure she gets there safe. 

Something Familiar: You find yourself dangling over a cylinder of acid after exploring an 'abandoned' warehouse. Spider-Man comes to your rescue in all his glory but you find something oddly familiar about him.. 

Clint Barton

KleptoCat: Clint likes to take your stuff but this time he swears it wasn’t him. 

Five to One: The five times your life was a rom-com and the one time you got a happy ending.

Broken Bones and Bruised Hearts: Clint remembers you protecting him, always there for him. You live in his dreams always.

Loki

He Consumes Me: Thor said that Loki is gone, for good. She was beginning to finally accept that. No longer would he consume her thoughts or control her mind. No longer would he trick her. 

[dameronology]

rockstar {s.r x reader} - 3

you and steve rogers are famous for two extremely different reasons - you’re a famous rockstar, and he’s a superhero. your main personality trait is sarcasm and he’s a squeaky clean super-soldier. it takes him exactly one night to fall in love with you. what could possibly go wrong?

summary: you and steve officially introduce your friends to each other & you also have to start dealing with inevitable public interest in your relationship

part 1/part 2 

also ft. bucky barnes + sam wilson, and some more damian/alex content. they are important to the story line but pls let me know what you think of them + if you’d like to see more/less of them`<3 

warnings: language 

‘Is he good in bed?’

‘Do his abs feel real?’

‘Did the super soldier serum work on his-’

‘- I am not answering those questions!’ You snapped, nostrils flaring as you jabbed your finger towards your bandmates.

The three of you were stood outside your usual bar, sheltering under an old awning in the smoking area to shield yourselves from the rain. It was coming down heavy now, covering the whole of New York in a bubble of wet humidity as evening began to settle across the grey sky of the city. The bar was your usual hangout; a small hole-in-the-wall pub in a desolate part of Midtown; the beer was stale but the company was good. 

You were anxiously waiting for Steve to arrive with Bucky and Sam. Naturally, you felt nervous about formally introducing your respective group of friends - it marked the pair of you becoming official official. Plus, your two best friends were capable of acting like a pair of clowns when they were excited, and they’d barely shut up about meeting the two heroes the entire day. 

‘Hey, doll.’ You felt a pair of warm, familiar arms wrap around you. You hadn’t even notice Steve’s cab pull up. 

The super soldier pressed a kiss to your lips, and you naturally responded to his touch. You knew that there were people around you who could have seen, but you were beyond the point of caring. You were on a relationship high; the pair of you had gone official and you were introducing your friends to each other. What did it matter who saw?

‘You remember these oafs from yesterday morning,’ you pulled back from Steve’s embrace, ushering your bandmates over. 

‘Steven,’ Alex greeted him.

‘I didn’t recognise you with a shirt.’ Damian added.

Rolling your eyes, you turned your attention to Sam and Bucky. They were shyly stood behind Steve, almost like two small children. Ironically, Damien and Alex had been over-excited about meeting them. 

If only they knew.

‘It’s good to see you guys again.’ You pulled them both into a hug. ‘I’m just gonna get it out the way - Alex and Damian are super excited about meeting you, so there’s no need to be shy.’

‘Us?’ Bucky’s jaw dropped. ‘You were excited about meeting us?’

‘And you were excited about meeting us?’ Alex’s tone was just as accusatory. 

You intertwined your hand with Steve’s, dragging him inside the bar. The smell of stale beer and old tobacco initially made him draw back, but the air was warm and the atmosphere welcoming. The pub was filled with plush, red booths and the carpet looked like it was straight out of a nineteen-eighties adult film. 

‘So, why this place?’ Sam asked, eyes darting between the ugly floor and aged decor.

‘There aren’t many places in New York that one of the world’s biggest bands and half of the Avengers can hang out.’ Steve replied. He was leant against the bar beside you, arm tightly around your waist.

‘Everyone in here is either too drunk to care or too old to know who any of us are.’ Damian added. ‘But now I think of it, we could have just hung out at Y/N’s.’

‘Yeah, but that would involve having to tidy up.’ The super soldier muttered under his breath. You elbowed him in the ribs, pouting. 

After getting your drinks, you moved to a booth at the back of the bar. You and Steve were sat on the outside; he had his arm slewn across your shoulders, holding your hand in his. That was sort of your natural position now - it was the way you sat when you on the sofa in your apartment, and the way you dozed off at night. 

It was odd to see your friends interacting so easily. Damian and Bucky were chortling about something, whilst Sam was grilling Alex with questions about your upcoming album. The fact that they’d initially been starstruck by each other had definitely helped to break the ice, and it wasn’t long before you were all lost in conversation.

‘So, you know that song from your first album?’ Bucky tapped your hand across the table to get your attention. ‘The one titled You Suck, You Bastard?’

You groaned. ‘Yeah?’

‘Who was it about?’

‘My high school boyfriend.’ You buried your head in Steve’s shoulder, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks. ‘He might have fucked my best friend but the royalties from that song paid for my first car.’

‘Our Y/N is a bad-ass.’ Damian ruffled your hair. ‘And that should be a warning to you, Rogers.’

‘Definitely,’ Alex chimed in. ‘You hurt her, and you’ll have us to answer too.’

‘Alex is asthmatic as fuck and Damian has the structural integrity of a piece of spaghetti.’ You casually commented, taking a sip of your beer. ‘So really, you have nothing to worry about.’

The six of you continued to chat as the evening passed; Sam and Bucky had many questions about your music and stories from touring, whilst Alex and Damian were asking for 411 on superhero life. You and Steve, however, were engrossed in your own little bubble, simply watching them chat and laugh as you absent-mindedly worked your hands across each other. 

Steve’s fingers were gently tracing the lines of the tattoos on your bare arms, warm hands working from your shoulders and down to your wrists. You, meanwhile, were occasionally playing with his fingers or nuzzling your head into his shoulder, barely even thinking about it. That was one thing you’d never get over: your bodies just kind of fitted together, like two pieces of a puzzle.

‘You okay, sweetheart?’ He murmured quietly into his ear.

You glanced at the group of people around you. It wasn’t something you’d ever imagined happening, but the energy between you felt right. Between Sam’s seriousness and Alex’s terrible jokes, and Damian’s constant questions and Bucky’s interest in your music, they could all bounce off of each other. It was like a group of old friends hanging out.

‘Never been better.’ You smiled. 

--

The following morning, you woke up underneath Steve. His legs were tangled between yours and the sheets, strong arms holding you to his chest as he quietly slept. His hair was sticking up in a thousand different directions, and you couldn’t help but pull a face at the large purple mark on his neck. Neither of you had been drunk the night before, but the intake of alcohol had certainly made you friskier than usual. 

‘Mornin’, gorgeous,’ He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, barely bothering to open his eyes. He let go of you, rolling over to bury his head in the pillow on the other side of the bed.

‘Coffee?’ You asked, gently running a hand through his blonde tufts.

‘Coffee.’ 

Pulling his shirt over your torso, you fumbled around for a pair of leggings. You rubbed your eyes as you headed out into the living room, sliding open your bedroom door. The early morning light was streaming through the windows, washing the room in a dull, yellow glow. In addition to the blinding lustre, there was also a six-foot musician in your kitchen, preparing three mugs of coffee.

That was when you remembered that Damian had stayed over at yours. He often ended up crashing on your sofa, especially if he was having problems with his boyfriend - which was always (but it made for some good song writing material). He had his phone in one hand and a spoon in the other, and he was too engrossed in the device to notice your presence, so you cleared your throat. 

‘Y/N!’ He jumped at the sound. ‘You’re trending!’

‘What is it this time?’ You snorted, reaching into the fridge for a carton of milk. ‘Last time it was because I accidentally trod on Harrison Ford’s foot at a red carpet event.’

‘It’s a bit more serious than that.’ Damian bit his lip. ‘Pictures of you and Steve have been all over Twitter.’

You let out a groan, head dropping into your hands. You knew it was bound to happen - you were both figures of public interest, and all of your previous relationships had been under the microscope of every gossip column in the city. Still, this was relationship wasn’t like your other ones. It was so much closer to your heart, and so much more personal. It had taken enough for you to tell your two best friends about it, let alone the entire world.

‘Perez fucking Hilton.’ You muttered under your breath, scrolling through an article titled Beauty and the Beast. ‘Why am I the beast? Have they seen Steve’s arms?’

‘I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.’ Damian took the phone from your hands, pulling you into a tight hug. ‘People love you, and they love Captain America.’

‘Yeah, but probably not together!’ You grumbled. ‘It’s like...the most random pairing ever.’

‘So? When have you ever cared what people think?’ He reasoned. ‘Trust me, Y/N, you and Steve are good together. I’ve seen you with people before but not like this.’

‘I better go tell him.’ You pulled from his embrace. ‘Thanks for making the coffee.’

‘Anytime, sweetheart.’ He pressed a kiss to your temple, before handing you the drinks and pushing you in the direction of the bedroom. 

You were more worried about what Steve was going to think. You’d dealt with public relationships before, but he hadn’t. He had no clue what it was like to live under the intense watch of modern day social media. It wasn’t something you’d considered when you’d got involved - you’d been so entranced by him that you hadn’t stopped to think about the consequences. 

Still, that wasn’t going to stop you. You’d made it this far, and you were happy. Whatever obstacles it was going to create, you felt confident in overcoming them. 

‘I have news,’ you announced, dropping back into bed next to Steve.

He sat up, looking momentarily adorable as he rubbed his eyes. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, Steve took the mug from your hand, frowning at your worried expression. You were chewing at your lip ring, something he knew you did whenever you were anxious.

‘What’s up, sweetheart?’ He asked gently, softly rubbing your shoulder. ‘Talk to me.’

‘They know, Steve.’

‘Who knows?’

‘The internet!’ You replied. ‘Someone saw us at the bar yesterday, and it’s gone viral.’

‘Oh.’ Steve’s brow furrowed, and he thought for a moment. He reached for the bedside table, grabbing his phone. He scrolled for a minute, examining some of the tweets and articles. ‘Yeah, they definitely know.’

‘I’m sorry.’ You flopped back into the pillow. ‘I know this probably isn’t what you wanted-’

‘- hey, baby, stop.’ He grabbed you by the waist, softly pulling you into his lap. He gently brushed his lips against yours, pushing a few strands of hair out your face. ‘You are the thing I want, and I’ll stick by that whatever crap is thrown our way.’

You paused for a minute, holding his gaze. ‘Does that mean I can post you on my Instagram?’

{taglist: @sp2900 @whenpugzfly​}

[writing-reading-inspiring]

Discovering Truth (Mob!Tom Holland X Reader) - Chapter One

Summary: One can say that (y/n) doesn’t have a normal life. Then again, anyone who’s father is the leader of one of the most feared English mobs probably wouldn’t. One day, her life gets turned upside down when a letter arrives from her uncle stating that she is a target of her father’s rival mob, the Hollands.

Chapter One  ~  Chapter Two 

I’ve always understood that I wasn’t a typical teenager. I mean, I’ve been exposed to that idea since I was a 7 year old girl shooting a glock 17 at a moving target during my father's “protection training”. I feel like a part of me even understood that when I was waking up to the blaring of an ambulance and the sharp beep of a heart monitor when I was 4. My life is complicated and simple at the same time, which isn’t just confusing, but really sucks. 

To understand how I ended up here, I have to tell you about my family and what I know of my past. My father is Harold Chimaera, leader of one of the most feared English mobs. My mother was his wife, Eleanor Chimaera. She was an amazing wife and an even more amazing mother, at least from what I can remember. My father sent her away to Corinth, Maine when she was pregnant with my brother, Scott, and me in order to keep her safe from any harm that could befall us. Sadly it wasn’t his enemies that hurt us, but a truck driver on Mccard Road who had a bit too much Bourbon to drink. My mother and twin brother died that cold winter’s night. 

When my father found out, he immediately came to the United States to bring me home to London. From there, he moved most of his operation to Cambridge, a place where he can keep me safe from accidents and anyone who would want to harm us. 

I was drawn out of my thoughts by a light knock on the door frame. The gruff voice of my father's right hand man, Abel, followed after it.

“Ms. Chimaera, you’re father requests your presence in the living room.” He adjusted his black suit jacket and scratched at his 5 o’clock shadow that he seems to have forgotten to shave.

“Of course Abel,” I curtly replied. “I’ll be right down. Just give me a minute to put my easel away.”

He nodded towards me before disappearing from my view. I got up and looked at the blank canvas that was taunting me. I’ve been unable to draw for the last 2 weeks and it’s really starting to get on my nerves. I’ve already painted the roses in the garden, the birds in the aviary, the butterflies that flutter just outside the windows, and even the creek that runs next to the house. 

My home may be considered luxurious in it’s grand stature, pristine marble floors, exquisite design, and exotic fauna; however, it lacks inspiration for me at this point. After 15 years, things start to seem boring and you start to get claustrophobic, even if you have a generous amount of room to move around. 

Being caged and unable to leave the grounds of my father's estate may keep me safe, but it stops me from being alive; I’m only existing. I know I’m luckier than most, and I’m grateful for it, but I can’t help how I feel.

I begin to put away my painting materials before heading through the door of my art room. 

My father gave no worry to buying me whatever I wanted. This would explain the highly functioning studio I have next to my room, the stocked kitchen that holds any ingredient I could imagine using, and the $800 camera I have in a hard case on my dresser in my bedroom. 

The walk from upstairs to the living room is brief due to my father wanting me to be able to escape as quickly as possible if needed.

“(y/n)! There you are. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your thoughts on how I should get Mulligan to back off of our exports. But first of all, have you painted anything new for me to hang in the gallery?” My father got up from the couch and walked to the staircase while speaking to me.

His question caused goosebumps on my arms. He has been asking me for a new painting everyday after I told him I had nothing to work from.

“I haven’t been able to paint anything new yet, but I’m thinking about painting the garden again, except this time it would be in the morning,” I replied to him while looking down.

“That sounds absolutely wonderful, my dear. Now, about that plan of yours. I enjoy the part about messing with Mulligan’s investigation, but why exactly do you think he would go after another mob all of the sudden,” my father inquired.

You see, my father has been trying to prepare me for when I take over the mob when I’m older. At least that’s what he tells me. Personally, I believe he’s trying to make sure I’m smart enough to take care of myself if I need to. Nevertheless, I put my input in on subjects such as how to increase profits and how to get nosy detective’s off our scent.

“Dad, Mulligan has been chasing us for years, which means there’s a low chance that he has been doing other cases. His chief must be pretty mad at him for ignoring his other duties. Giving ‘evidence’ that can bring down another mob permanently would put him in good graces with his boss. He would be an idiot if he doesn’t take the bait,” I explained to him. 

“That’s my smart girl.” He came over to give me a hug.  

When he pulled away he spoke again, “Oh, I almost forgot. Rosetta put together the mail and apparently there are quite a few pieces for you. How many colleges did you apply to?”

“Maybe about 15. I wanted options,” I said. 

This wasn’t technically a lie, but it also wasn’t technically the complete truth. I wanted a good amount of options, yes, but I also wanted to be able to get as far away as I can. Not because I hate my life, but because I want to feel free. 

“Sweetheart, I can get you into any school you want with one phone call, so why did you need options?”

“I wanted to get in on my own, and I’m sure I did with my markings.”

“Of course you did, darling.” He checked his watch and a pained look came to his face. “I hate to do this sweetie, but I have a meeting in five minutes. The mail should be in your room. Tell you what, how about we have a movie night tonight? Say 8 o’clock?”

“Sounds perfect. Now, don’t be late to your meeting because of me. I’ll see you tonight. Love you.”

“I love you too.” With that, he departed from the living room towards the north side of the estate, which is where his conference room is.”

I made my way back upstairs to my bedroom. I might as well see what letters I was able to get today. 

You see, the mail that we receive is gone through and assorted at another location in case of dangerous substances or tricks. It’s also a way for my father to see who was trying to contact me via mail (he already has my computer's searched and monitored 24 hours).

Once I get to my bedroom, I immediately spotted my mail placed on my mahogany desk as it is every day. I grabbed the stack and sat against the headboard of my bed, having to push myself back a couple of times due to its size. 

University of Oxford ... accepted.

University of Cambridge ... accepted. 

University of York ... accepted. 

Université de la Sorbonne ... accepté. 

Harvard University ... accepted. 

Letter from Elijah Wilson ... that’s a new one.

I immediately push the other packages aside and look at the small white envelope that managed to get to my room. I’ve never had mail from a person I’ve never heard of, especially one bearing my mother's maiden name. 

The mail crew must have not seen this because it wasn’t already opened. Slowly pulling apart the unopened seal, I pulled the crisp, white paper out of its sleeve. 

Dear (y/n),

Hey kiddo, it’s your Uncle Elijah again. I don’t know if you’ve even been getting these letters, but that doesn’t matter. I still have hope that I’ll be able to see you again. You must be about 19 now, right? Last time I saw you, you weren’t even to my knee, but you had tremendous spunk for a 4 year old. If you’re anything like you were when you were little or anything like your mother, I believe that you’d get along great with my daughter, Elizabeth. I’m sure you’re living a great life in Cambridge with your dad, but I really do need to see you, sweetie. I understand that talking about what happened with your mother and brother must be a difficult thing to do. I could hardly speak about it for at least two years, but it’s been 15 now. Not only do we miss you in Maine, but we want to try to help you as much as possible too. I’m sure your father has some of the greatest protection set up just for you, but even Fort Knox has breeches in their security system. I’m sure he already knows about the Hollands trying to get to you, but I’m just worried that you won’t be ready for when they do come. Though I hate to say it, there offense has gotten stronger and they had corrupted more mobs that I can count. There are probably enemies that you think are allies coming in and out without any strain. These men have already killed Eleanor and Scott, I don't want to see them kill you too. I know coming to Maine didn’t work that well last time, but we’ve grown since then, we’re more prepared. Please come, or at least respond so I know that you’re safe.

With love and the best intentions,

Uncle Elijah

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

‘The Christmas Caper’ Chapter 4: One Step Closer

Prologue | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

FFN | Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee?

.

.

When Mycroft headed into his room where Anthea waited, she raised an eyebrow at him. “Well?”

“They’re speaking to each other, and there’s minimal to average physical affection,” he replied. “They’re not talking about the elephant in the room, but I have no doubt all will work out.”

Anthea smiled approvingly. “Let’s hope the first time you give a gift, it doesn’t crash and burn.”

Mycroft grimaced. “So glad to see you have every confidence in me.” He walked over to the bed, and sat upon it, his back facing her.

“You know what I mean, dear,” she told him. “I just meant that your plans tend to backfire, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.” Anthea did her best to not laugh aloud in remembrance of the first time Mycroft tried to show her how he felt.

“Don’t remind me,” he sighed.

Three Months Ago

“Anthea, it has come to my attention that you’re a fully functioning female with above average intelligence,” he informed her.

She knit her brows in confusion. “Sir?”

He tried again. “What I mean to say is I would appreciate if you kept away of being in the company of other men—especially Wilson—who knew your standards were quite that low?”

She dropped her mouth open in shock, and walked right up to his desk, the clicking of her heels echoing in his office, and gave him a good smack. As she turned to walk out, Wilson came in with some files. Anthea approached him, tugged the lapel of his jacket and snogged him right in front of Mycroft, who was, for once, dumbfounded. And she left without a word.

Wilson stood there in a daze having felt the rage in her kiss. “Wow,” he said in amazement, “you must have really pissed her off.”

Mycroft was not amused. He pointed to the door. “Get out.”

Shaking the memory from his mind, Mycroft turned to face Anthea. “On second thought, maybe you should get more involved with the plan.”

“Oh no,” she laughed. “This one is all you—and your brother, of course. If anything goes wrong, the name Holmes will be written all over it which would make it understandable.” Anthea slipped under the duvet, and shut off her bedside lamp. “Now get changed and into bed, I’m exhausted.”

.

.

Sherlock hadn’t slept at all last night. With what little sleep he did get, his dreams were haunted by the words of John Watson: “Talk to Molly. This may be the very last chance you’ll ever have to fix things.” He knew that John was right. So many scenarios played out in his mind where he never spoke with her. And every single time, it ended with him and Molly drifting apart. His mind even went as far as to show him she would eventually move on into the arms of another man—one who probably deserved her more than a man who couldn’t be brave enough for her.

After getting dressed, he made his way downstairs where his mother was reminiscing about her career as a mathematician with Molly who was looking through one of the books she had written. Both women looked up at him as he entered the room.

“You’re up early,” Mrs. Holmes commented.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he replied with a shrug, heading towards the kitchen.

Molly noticed how tired he looked, wondering if he ever got a decent night’s sleep after the Sherrinford Incident. “Try drinking some tea before bed,” she suggested to him, like she was one to talk. She could hardly sleep last night either even with the tea.  

“I’ll take that into consideration, thank you, Molly,” Sherlock smiled warmly. He met his mother’s knowing look. “Where’s father?” he asked.

Mrs. Holmes felt an idea brewing. “Went to pick up some eggs—we completely ran out what with all the baking. You know, why don’t you and Molly go into town for breakfast?” She turned to who she hoped would be her future daughter-in-law. “You would love it! It’s a little cottage diner on high street. Nettie makes the best fry up!”

Molly smiled. “That sounds delightful! What do you think, Sherlock?”

“Well, I—“

“Oh, Sherlock loves the food there,” she told Molly as she got up to leave the room. “Go on, you kids have fun!”

Molly looked up into Sherlock’s eyes, an amused smile forming on her lips. “I have to admit, your mum is a force to be reckoned with.”

He chuckled. “You have no idea.”

.

.

Once they began the drive into town, Sherlock had to admit he was thankful for his mother’s interference. He took a quick glance to his left at Molly in the passenger seat, her hair done up in a French braid. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to just throw all caution to the wind, and damn it all, he wanted to be selfish. But would it be considered selfish if she wanted the same thing? It was much too tempting.

“How’ve you been holding up?” Molly asked, breaking the silence. “Since…well, you know.”

She still cared for him—that was good. But, of course she did. One thing about Molly Hooper is when she gave you her love, it was unconditional.

Sherlock, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Mary’s berated him. If I have to hear you go on about how you don’t deserve her and she deserves better, I think I might die…again. Too soon? He ignored her in favor of the ache in his heart. “I’m getting by,” he replied to Molly. “But what about you? It’s not as if you escaped unscathed.”

“I’m okay,” she shrugged, but Sherlock knew better.

“You’re not okay,” he said matter-of-factly.

Molly sighed, turning to look out her window. “I’m just bloody frustrated,” she muttered to herself. Part of her hoped he had heard her.

.

.

He had heard her—loud and clear. Sherlock was tired of fighting with himself, and so, for their time at the diner, he let go. The two of them had a right good time, laughing it up and sharing stories, including memories that they couldn’t very well agree on.

Molly swallowed her last bite of food, having cleared the plate. “Alright, but I remember on John’s stag night, the two of you were pissed after only two hours, and I had to come pick you up in the morning!” She laughed. “I met Mary outside of the station and we were just laughin’!”

Sherlock took a sip of his tea. “I didn’t think it was particularly funny, Molly.”

“Oh, you know, you’re right,” she continued, laughing as she spoke. “It’s not nearly as funny as the seven voicemails you left me! You were so smashed!” Molly gave a light playful slap to his forearm.

His brows rose up. This was the first he had heard of this. “I…left you seven voicemails?” Was he too inebriated to remember? But he remembered so many other events of the night. “Molly, what did I say?”

She eyed him curiously. “You mean, you don’t remember?”

He shook his head. “Afraid not—what did I say?”

“I dunno,” she teased. “Maybe I want to keep it to myself.”

Sherlock tilted his head, clearly frustrated.

“Alright,” Molly conceded with a laugh. “Not one of them ever completed a single thought. It was like bits and pieces. In one you called me your pathologist quite possessively, then in another I think you said something about marriage changes people. Oh!” She was giggling now. “I think you called Tom a wanker in another one.”

He felt—what?—relieved? Embarrassed? Possibly both. “Right, well, no one said I could hold my liquor.” Sherlock returned the amused smile that was also on Molly’s face.  

Molly couldn’t help but notice how at ease she was around him. Those first couple of years she knew him gave her butterflies and frayed nerves, but ever since she helped him with his lazarus plan, there was a shift in their friendship. It became deeply intimate from that moment forward. It was when her crush turned into a raw, honest love. Not once did it waver. His apology last night sparked something in her, and she felt the need to say the words rattling around in her head before she lost her nerve. “Sherlock?” His eyes pierced hers inquisitively. “I just want you to know, I’m sorry too.”

He furrowed his brows. “I don’t understand—for what?”

She bit her lip anxiously. “This friendship”—she motioned between them—“whatever this is; it’s a two-way street. Last night, you apologised for not having gone to see me. Sherlock, I’m sorry for having not gone to see you. I knew what had happened and why, but I wasn’t brave enough to face it all. Neither of us were. I don’t want to live a life that doesn’t have you in it. I’ve tried, and it’s bloody awful. I forgave you. Can you forgive me?”

The muscles in his face relaxed, giving way to a softness that Molly had only ever seen a handful of times. “Of course I forgive you. I’ll let you in on a secret…”

They both leaned their heads forward.

“…I don’t want to live a life that doesn’t have you in it either. A life without you, Molly Hooper, would be too dull to imagine.”  

.

.

Whilst Molly went to have a look at the shops, Sherlock had an errand to run with an old friend. The bell on the door rang out when he made his entrance. The place was full of handmade jewelry, as far as the eye could see.

“As I live and breathe, Sherlock Holmes has come back for a visit!” The man behind the counter clapped his hands together. “It’s been an age! What can I do for ya?”

“Hello, Rupert, I need you to do something very important for me…”

.

.

Mycroft had been smoking in the backyard when Sherlock and Molly returned. He put out his cigarette just as his brother appeared. “And how was your morning with Doctor Hooper, brother mine? Inquiring minds want to know.”

“It was enlightening,” Sherlock answered.

Mycroft eyed him curiously. “And have you two discussed the events of that night?”

“Not yet,” he replied, looking down toward the ground. “It’s a delicate matter—a bit difficult to just bring it up, especially when we’re trying so hard to move past it.”

With a sigh, Mycroft shook his head. “Has it ever occurred to you, little brother, that it will be easier to move past it if you two have this conversation?”

Sherlock glared at him. “Of course it has! Honestly, Mycroft, why do you care so much? What’s in it for you?”

“Can’t I be a good brother for once?” he asked. “Is it so hard to believe I want you to be happy?”

Taking a moment to think things over, Sherlock turned around and turned back, unsure of how to process this information. “Yes, actually, it would be very hard to believe had we not just shared a traumatic experience three months ago.” He roughly ran his fingers through his curls. “Sherrinford changed you, Mycroft.”

“As it did you,” his big brother countered. “I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing, do you?”

“No,” Sherlock agreed. “For what I need to do, it isn’t. She loves me—God knows why. But I’m not blind to the fact that sometimes loving someone isn’t enough. I love her, but can I provide for her everything she needs? I doubt it.”

Mycroft walked up onto the stoop. “I’ll leave you with this: it’s not about asking whether you can provide these things for her, but asking whether or not you are willing to try.” A knowing smirk appeared on his brother’s face, and then he was gone.

.

.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Sherlock needed to talk to her. It was all he could think about. It was early evening when she entered the sitting room after dinner. His eyes couldn’t help but linger, especially since she was holding their goddaughter in her arms whilst she sang Christmas songs to her. He found that he enjoyed hearing Molly sing. He also noticed how she had stuck a red Christmas bow in her hair much to Rosie’s amusement, the lights on the tree reflecting off of it.

This adornment reminded him of another Christmas at Baker Street. It was a bittersweet memory. On one hand, it was the first time he had ever kissed Molly, though only on the cheek. But on the other hand, he still regretted his behaviour to this day. Knowing what he knows now, he knew he had been jealous, thinking she had been doing all of that for someone else. It was cruel to insult her the way he did. Allowing himself a quick glance, he admired the set of her lips and the swell of her breasts peeking out from her blouse. Though he wanted to, he didn’t allow his eyes to linger there too long, and settled on watching her eyes light up.

Molly caught him staring eventually, and she just beamed at him as if there was no place she’d rather be. “Look Rosie, your Uncle Sherlock is actually smiling for once.”

“I smile,” he argued playfully. His heart was pounding when she approached him, only mere inches away. “May I?” Sherlock held out his hands from where he sat on the sofa.

Carefully, Molly helped to settle Rosie in his arms and seated herself beside them. It warmed her heart to see him take an active role in the little girl’s life. Surprisingly, Sherlock was actually good with children in his own way. Rosie reached a hand up, her dimpled fingers grabbing her godfather’s nose. He gently pulled her hand away and pressed a quick kiss to her fingertips.

“I hope you’re being good for your Aunt Molly,” he told her softly. “She works very hard, and deserves everything she’s ever wanted.” Sherlock didn’t know what it was about talking to his goddaughter, but he found he didn’t feel so afraid saying these things though he was very aware that Molly was sitting beside him. When he glanced over at her, he noticed tears forming just at the waterline of her eyes, but she held them back.

Molly brushed back the wispy pale blonde curls on Rosie’s head. “Your Uncle Sherlock is just a big softie deep down,” she laughed quietly. “And you know what? He deserves just as much—especially to be loved.”  She looked up and their eyes locked, neither unable to look away. Her heart beat furiously in her chest, and before she could talk herself out of it, Molly kissed him tenderly, lingering long enough to get lost in the feel of his lips on hers. She hadn’t given him enough time to kiss her back, the shock evident on his face when she pulled away.

Without a word, she stood and left the room suddenly in need of fresh air.

[littlesliceofmarvel]

Do I look like a God?

Request/Synopsis: Peter has feelings for the reader and wants to tell her, but she’s too busy fangirling over Steve and Thor.

Warnings: none, just adorable-ness

Pairings: Peter x Reader

A/N: I loved this idea, so I hope you guys love reading it! As always, Gif isn’t mine and my inbox is open! xxx

Oh, god.

Oh. My. God.

Today was the day. The day that you had been waiting for for like... 2 days. Peter was finally bringing you to meet the Avengers. Nothing could have prepared you for this.

You had been dreading this day, but still, you couldn’t wait for this day to come. Ever since Peter told you his little Spider-Man secret, you had been pestering his ass to bring you to meet the rest of the team. He told you ‘no’ over and over again for about two years, until finally - finally, two days ago he found out Tony Stark was throwing a party at the Avengers Tower and Peter was invited and allowed to bring whoever he wanted, ‘The more the merrier’ Stark had told him.

When Peter mentioned it to you, you practically jumped on him, telling him he had to bring you, and he agreed, only if you promised not to embarrass him. Apparently, as the youngest on the team, he was prone to teasing and criticism and he wanted nothing more than to make a good impression on everyone, especially his beloved Mr. Stark.

So, when Peter texted you that someone was on his way to pick the two of you up, you nearly fainted. You ran around the apartment, ignoring your family telling you to chill out as you dolled up, drinking a bit too much coffee in the process. You wanted to stay awake through the night - you had to. This was quite possibly your once chance to meet the Avengers, you had to impress. Or at least not make a fool of yourself.

Not even half an hour after Peter’s text, he knocked on your door. You froze in your step, but immediately snapped out of it and opened the door, a grinning Peter standing there with his hands shoved in his pockets awkwardly.

“You look, uh, nice,” he pointed to your outfit.

“You don’t like it? Oh, it’s too much, isn’t it? I know, it’s just a party, but Tony Stark is a billionaire, you know, and these are really cool people,” you stared to ramble but Peter cut you off with a small laugh and a shake of his head.

“You look great, let’s go. Cut the rambling.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you grabbed your small purse, saying a quick bye to your family and stepping out of the front door, following Peter down the hallway. When you got to the lobby of the building, Peter led you out to a large black SUV, the dark windows not letting anyone see anything inside.

Peter opened the door for you and you hopped in, smiling at the man in the driver’s seat.

“I’m Happy, I’ll be your driver,” he smiled, putting on his sunglasses as Peter stepped into the car, closing the door behind him. 

“Oh, I’m happy you’re our driver too,” you said awkwardly, watching Peter face palm himself from the corner of your eye. You shrugged at him, silently asking what’s wrong.

“His name is Happy,” Peter mumbled to you, your eyes widening as you turned to face Happy, an apologetic look on your face as you felt the humiliation set in.

“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry, it’s nice to meet you, Happy,” you said awkwardly, “I’m Y/N.”

The rest of the drive was mostly silent on Happy’s end, but Peter blabbed your ear off about the team, telling you a little bit about everyone before you met them. You found out Tony and Steve Rogers were apparently not on good terms, Natasha Romanoff and Bruce Banner had started dating recently but were very private about it, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes loved teasing Peter about anything they could possibly find amusing, and that Clint was on edge recently because of his wife and kids being dragged into his work life. 

“This is like, next level gossip,” you chuckled, making Peter laugh slightly, leaning his head back on his seat as he looked out to your surroundings. You were finally pulling up to the tower, and to say you were in awe would be the understatement of the century. It was beautifully lit up in the evening golden sunlight, the A glistening brightly at the top. As Happy led the two of you inside, you were captivated by the marble floors and the giant fountain - indoors. This was next level money.

Happy led you two to the elevators, Peter already being slightly embarrassed at your behaviour, you could tell. You had pointed out everything to him on the walk inside, the gold glistening items catching your attention from all over the lobby.

“Look at that chandelier!” You pointed to the tiny glistening chandelier in the elevator, Happy chuckling slightly as Peter’s cheeks turned red, shaking his head at your over-the-top excitement.

“Remember, please, don’t be hyper in front of the team, Y/N,” Peter reminded you again, making you roll your eyes, “Act cool.”

As if on cue, the elevator dinged to signal you had arrived at your floor. Happy wished you two a good evening and as soon as you two stepped out, he went back downstairs. You turned to face your surroundings, your jaw nearly dropping to the floor. The entire room was covered with windows overlooking the sunset on the Manhattan skyline, the giant crystals hanging from the ceiling making the light bounce around the room. There were large leather couches all around the room and you could see a DJ booth being set up at the far end of the room, next to a bar. 

“Peter, this is crazy,” you whispered to him, and as much as he wanted to tell you to be cool again, he loved how excited you were about this. He knew he made the right decision bringing you.

“Parker!” A voice shouted from across the room, snatching you out of your trance. You followed Peter’s glance and your eyes landed on none other than Tony Stark, walking straight towards the two of you. Your heart flipped and your nerves suddenly came flowing back, your hands getting slightly shaky.

Peter stuck his hands out, greeting him with a hand shake, “Hello, Mr. Stark.” You could immediately tell how much Peter admired him, his posture straightened the minute he saw him, his eyes widening, and his voice even changing to sound slightly more firm.

“You must be Y/N, right?” Tony Stark turned to you, holding out his hand.

You breath hitched in your throat and you felt your legs turn to jelly, you couldn’t believe you were meeting the Tony Stark, “O-Oh, yes that’s me, Mr. Iron Man, sir.”

Tony chuckled, placing his hand over his chest, “Oh, god, call me Tony, please.”

You nodded, giving him a shy smile as he turned to Peter and motioned for you guys to follow him. The two of you did just that, following him down a long hallway. You couldn’t believe this floor got even bigger.

He led you to a room at the end and opened it to reveal a large kitchen, dining room, and what looked like a living room. But not only that, the entire team was chilling around the space, doing their own thing. You felt your face warm up, looking around to everyone in the room until your eyes landed on none other than Steve Rogers. Oh, he was beautiful.

Tony walked towards the kitchen, but you were too awe-struck to move, grabbing Peter’s arm as he tried to follow him, “Peter, oh my god.”

“W-what? Are you okay? You look like you’ve either seen a ghost or fallen in love,” Peter scanned over your face, but your eyes were locked on the blond sitting on the couch, his face held in a smile as he laughed at something on TV.

“I’ve fallen in love,” you mumbled, Peter following your gaze to have his eyes fall on Steve Rogers, making him groan and turn back to face you.

“He’s a hundred years old, you know?” Peter stated matter-of-factly, making you snap your eyes away from the blond and onto the disapproving brunet in front of you.

You placed your hands on your hips, looking up at him, “Um, so? He looks beautiful for a hundred year old man.”

Peter scoffed, turning back to face Steve for a quick second before turning back to face you, “I stole his shield once, it was epic.”

You laughed at Peter, about to respond when you were cut off by a voice next to you, “Well, Spider-Boy finally decides to come to a Stark party.” You turned your attention to who was speaking and noticed Sam Wilson had approached the two of you, a mischievous smile on his face. 

“You’re Falcon!” you exclaimed, slightly frightening yourself as you did so, having no intention to practically scream it at him.

Sam chuckled as Peter rolled his eyes, “That’s me, the one and only, and you are?”

You stuck your hand out, “Y/N! Peter brought me.”

Sam shook your hand, placing his own on his hips as he faced Peter, “Oh, you brought a girl, huh?” You felt your cheeks warm up and noticed Peter’s turned slightly pink as well. 

“Shut up, Sam.”

If you were totally honest, you had kind of hoped that Peter bringing you here meant something, even if it was a party with an open invitation. You had harboured feelings for the brunet, wanting nothing more than to make it official, but you knew with the life he lived that there was no way that was going to happen anytime soon. 

Sam sauntered away to the kitchen, and Peter took this as his chance to introduce you to the team. You followed him to the couches, the nerves making your steps feel shaky as you approached this group of heroes.

“Hey, Parker,” Natasha Romanoff smiled, standing up to pull Peter into a hug, her red hair nearly matching his face by now.

“Ms Romanoff, this is my friend Y/N,” Peter pointed to you and she smiled, greeting you kindly, which you did right back. She was gorgeous, and you knew how powerful she was too, which made her all the more intriguing to you.

Peter shook hands with Steve Rogers, greeting him kindly and turning to you, and you could already feel your heart stop when you looked into his eyes, “Captain Rogers, this is Y/N.”

You felt your breath leave your body as you shook Steve’s hand, his firm grip not really helping how weak the nerves were making you feel. He was just so pretty.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N, Peter’s mentioned you quite a bit, so it’s about time we’re introduced to you,” Steve said softly, placing his hands in his pockets as he smiled down at you before turning to Peter with a smirk.

You stuttered, “W-wow, it’s really an honour to meet you, Mr Captain, sir.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head, “Please, call me Steve.” You could practically feel the tension radiating off of Peter next to you, so you snapped out of the trance that Steve’s eyes had you in and you turned to face him, silently asking ‘what’s up’.

Peter just shrugged and grabbed your hand, bringing you to the other side of the couch, introducing you to Steve’s best friend, Bucky Barnes, who was also gorgeous, Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, who Peter called ‘the freaky twins’, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Scott Lang, and last but not least, Thor. 

Who, goddamn, was the living definition of sculpted like a God. 

“Oh, wow,” you whispered when you approached the man, a bright smile appearing on his face when he looked to Peter next to you, who already knew you were going to fawn over this guy.

“Ah, the spider child! It has been a long time since we last encountered, how have you been?” Thor grinned, sitting down on a bar stool in the kitchen as we approached him. You felt your cheeks heat up once more when Thor’s intense gaze landing on you, the smile still evident on his face. You had studied Thor and Norse Mythology when you were younger, so being in the presence of him had you weak in the knees.

Peter chuckled, rubbing his neck awkwardly, “Not much, I’ve been in school, I even-”

“You must be Lady... Y/N, is it? Spider told us he was bringing someone to Stark’s extravagant ball!” Thor grinned, placing his hands on your shoulders, nearly knocking you off balance as you struggled to stay upright, Peter’s hand instinctively going to your back.

You felt yourself laugh nervously, “Oh, um, yeah, that’s me. I thought this was just a party, though.”

“It is,” Peter chuckled, “Everything is a ball to Thor, he’s a king.”

“It’s an honour to meet you,” you smiled at Thor, “I’ve heard a lot about you, we even studied you in school.” Peter let out a small groan from beside you, obviously slightly embraced by your fangirling.

Thor chuckled, “Why, it’s an honour to meet you too! Humans are so fascinating, and small, it’s a wonder,” he turned to look around the room, analyzing everyone there. You didn’t really know how to reply to that, so you chuckled lightly and nodded your head, looking over to Peter who was doing the same.

-

The party was something else. Tony had hired a professional DJ who was constantly keeping a majority of the crowd (practically all of Manhattan) dancing. He had even brought in some of New York City’s finest chefs to cater the food and handle bartending. Although, Thor had some Asgardian liquor that seemed to do everyone quite well. 

You had lost Peter a while ago, when he got dragged off by Sam and Bucky, but you found yourself in an entertaining conversation with the Maximoff twins and Steve, taking all of your nerves away from when Peter took off. You wanted to be around him as much as you could tonight, but you felt comfortable in their company, using this chance to bond with Peter’s ‘co-workers.’

“No way!” you giggled, holding onto the cup in your hand - that was filled with water, of course. Tony was very strict about underage drinkers, which would only be you and Peter, when you think about it.

“Yes, way,” Pietro laughed, leaning onto the edge of his seat, “I really thought that the Lord of the Flies was about one big fly!”

Steve found himself laughing too, leaning against the bar counter behind you. You were comfortable around these people already, despite your usual hatred for large crowds. 

“That’s alright,” Steve chuckled, “When these guys tried to catch me up on what I had missed in 70 years, I didn’t even know who the Beatles were.” You felt yourself laughing once again, eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of the man you showed up with. He had been gone for nearly twenty minutes, and you weren’t worried, but you did want him to come back so you could spend the evening with him. You did come here to give you two the chance to bond, after all.

“Hey, Y/N!” You turned your head to follow the voice and saw Sam and Peter walking up to you guys. You felt your body instantly relax in Peter’s presence once again, the comfort he brought you flowing through your body. 

“Peter, hey,” you smiled at him once he stood next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, making you blush, “I was looking around for you.”

He gave you a look, leaning down to talk to you without anyone hearing, “You managed to keep your attention from Steve long enough to remember me?”

“What?” you chuckled, feeling yourself blush slightly at both his comment and the proximity of your faces, “Of course, you’re the one I wanted to be around tonight.”

Peter laughed dryly, “Sure.”

“Hey,” you pulled away from him, looking into his eyes, which seemed to avoid yours, “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, moving away from you to join the conversation, “Forget it.”

You felt your heart sink, you hated when Peter was mad at you. He was so distant and quiet, it killed you. Part of you wanted to ignore it and have a good time, but you wanted to patch things up with him right away, so you placed your cup down on the bar counter top and grabbed his hand, leading him away from the party and down the same long hallway as before, reaching the last door that led to the kitchen/dining/couch area. You swung it open, dragging Peter inside, to his confusion, and shut the door behind you.

“What are you doing?” he asked when you placed your hands on your hips.

“What’s wrong, Peter? Talk to me.”

He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, “I told you, forget it.”

“No,” you shook your head, approaching him and placing a hand on his forearm lightly, “I want to have a good time with you tonight, please tell me what’s bothering you.” You had no idea what you did wrong, if anything, you though Peter would be happy you were getting along with the team, even if he wasn’t around. 

He rolled his eyes, “You seem to have a good time around Steve.”

You felt your eyes widen and a small smirk make it’s way onto your face, “Wait, are you - are you jealous, Pete?” You hadn’t thought about the possibility that he was jealous of you hanging around Captain America, but now, the evidence was all there and you were loving it.

He blushed, laughing awkwardly, “N-No, why would I be jealous?”

“Oh, my god, you are!” You placed a hand on your face, a smile taking over as you approached him, his cheeks growing more red by the second, “Aw, Pete, come on, don’t be. You’re my favorite Avenger, you know that.”

“It’s not about that,” he mumbled, looking down to his shoes which became the most fascinating thing in the room to him.

You placed your hand under his chin, lifting his head up to force eye contact, “Tell me, what is it?”

You could see the hesitation in his eyes, scanning over your face before looking back into yours, his breath picking up slightly, “I just - I don’t know, I don’t like the way you look at him - Thor too - I want you to look at me like that, you know? Like, I don’t know, I just want you to look at me like I’m something amazing, like Thor, or whatever.”

If your heart wasn’t soaring before, it was now. Your smile was as wide as it could possibly be, and you knew right there and then that Peter felt the same way about you as you did him. You had never expected to get here, and you couldn’t stop yourself from placing your hand on the back of his neck and pulling his lips down to meet yours. He seemed incredible shocked at first, not really kissing back, but when his mind caught up to him, his lips moved softly with yours. His arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer to him as you felt all of the stress in your body letting go, finally getting the kiss you had been waiting for.

When you pulled away, you placed your forehead against yours, “I do look at you like you’re amazing, I’m just less obvious because I have feelings for you, you doofus, why wouldn’t I?”

You felt him relax under your touch, a massive smile spreading across his face, “I don’t know, do I look like a God?” A chuckle left your body, and before you knew it, Peter’s lips were on yours once again. All the butterflies and fireworks and everything fluttery went off in your stomach as you moved your lips against his, the feeling of his hair between your fingers as you did so made you smile into the kiss, everything feeling incredibly right.

The two of you didn’t return to the party, the idea of staying on the couch and watching movies (cough cough, making out while movies played in the background) sounded much more appealing.

[luke-o-lophus]

Coming Back to Life (Part 3)

Part 2 can be found here

Sam Wilson, Indian/Desi Reader, Bucky Barnes friendship

Warning: This episode has mention of attempted sexual assault. Apart from that, canon-typical violence and injuries, and conversations regarding these. Mention of smoking. Do tell me if I need to add more warnings/missing out on any warning.

Bucky took another drag of his cigarette, his phone pressed to his ear. In the dying light of the day, Sam could see his silhouette where he was standing in the balcony. Sam was on his fifth cup of coffee, sitting on his couch and flipping through some magazine. He could hear snippets of the conversation.

“....still at Sam’s...not yet....dunno Stevie...yeah...no you don’t have to...’kay...love you too....don’t you dare...yeah bye’‘

Sam wipes the tiny happy smile off his face before Bucky can see it (he’d never let him live that down). But times like this make him think of those years. Wondering if he was a guy who should be saved, or stopped. And now here Bucky was, on a phone with his century old lover, worrying over a friend who was still sleeping nearly twelve hours since she came home. The situation today is far from ideal, but it’s still days like this that still give him hope.

“You should stay”, Sam tells him as soon as he gets back to the living room. They’d tried to wake you up once, for lunch. You’d just opened your eyes with a blank stare, cowering slightly. Then recognition had sparked a bit, but you’d rolled over and continued to sleep. 

Bucky lets out a noise between a hum and a grunt, pondering whether he should sit, or go check up on you. It was past six, and you’d really need food and another dose of medicines soon. Also the fact was, he wasn’t very good at waiting. Especially when you were passed out, hurt and prone, and he didn’t know why.

“I think we should try again”, Sam says with a sigh, dropping his magazine. Bucky shrugs in response but follows eagerly. The guestroom is dark, the last glow of dusk peeping in from between curtain flaps. Sam flips on the light, and does a double take.

You're in bed, yeah, but curled up on yourself. Eyes open wide and lost somewhere in the distance, an unnatural glaze in your dark iris. Bucky recovers first, and covers the two strides to your bedside. He calls out your name softly, and your response is squeezing your eyes shut. A hand gingerly touches your forehead. Bucky's lips fall open at the jarring temperature difference between his cool vibranium and your forehead. "Sam, she's burning up", he whispers curtly. You blink your eyes open to the sight of both of them hovering over you.

"Am fine..", you insist, your voice small and rough from sleep. You try to offer a tiny lopsided smile,"Hey Buck. When'd you come?"

"Around six...In the morning.", He swipes some locks away from your clammy forehead. "When'd you wake up, doll?"

You look away at that question and make a move to sit up. You're grimacing the moment you lift your torso off the sheets; Sam steadies you silently as you lean back on the pillows Bucky fluffs up.

"I'm sorry", you whisper to no one in particular. "I... Should have told you I had a mission." Your words are spoken stiffly with obvious effort, you tried not to move your lips as much as possible.

"We can talk about that later...", Bucky offers an encouraging smile. You close your eyes with a sigh, letting Sam replace the blanket with a thicker one.

Bucky makes a move to get up for a cool washcloth but notes Sam's figure go still. He turns and quirks a brow at his expression, and the other man makes a quick motion with his head towards your legs. Bucky's blood runs cold when he follows that gaze.

Your shorts have ridden up in your sleep and the exposed flesh of your calf and thighs were marred with long purplish marks. Of fingers, gripping too hard? Looked that way. But, could be something else too, right? A quick glance to your face, eyes closed and blank, and another glance at Sam's face that looks this far from tortured. And he knows, the same thing's going on in Sam's head too. Bucky storms out of the room.

"What the fuck, Barnes", Sam hisses. He's standing inches from him in his kitchen, Bucky's fists flexing in anxiety.

"You know very well what the fuck." Bucky seethes, his blue eyes piercing into Sam's brown ones.

"How 'bout we let her tell us instead of making assumptions?"

"We could call Natasha...Or Wanda...Maybe she'll..."

"Man, she doesn't know them well. She trusts you, a lot."

Bucky looks up at that comment, his eyes softening somewhat. "She trusts us, Wilson. She did choose your place to crash." And that could be the biggest compliment Bucky has ever spoken aloud.

"Guys?", Your small worried voice makes them turn swiftly, to the sight of you leaning against the door frame, sheets wrapped around your form. You take a tentative step, supporting yourself with a hand on the wall. "It's not what it looks like", you whisper, lips and body trembling. Maybe, fever...maybe, nerves. You weren't sure.

"Jesus Christ" , Sam swears. Walking over, he takes your hand in his and guides you to the nearby couch. "Grab an ice pack, Barnes", he calls over his shoulder. His fingers gingerly touch your cheek that was more swollen around the cut. "You didn't have to get out of bed, tiger", he soothes you in his warm voice.

"You were worrying", you argue. After a pause, you blurt out, "My mission was successful, but it didn't go as planned."

The couch dips beside you where Bucky sits; he's waiting for you to go on, ice pack forgotten in his left hand. Gentle strokes on your cheek have you look up to Sam. He is nodding, egging you to go on.

"It was simple", you shrug. "It was this rich white guy who runs an illegal weapons ring as a side business. Has connections with..Terrorist organizations, trafficking rings. Has location of important bases. And apparently a 'taste in exotic young women'. The last words are spoken with obvious disgust, makes both men clench their jaws.

"You're not supposed to go solo on stuff like this", Bucky chides gently, dropping the ice pack to the floor before he can unwittingly ruin it with a squeeze.

You wring your fingers, turning to face him. Sam pulls a chair to sit; Bucky's cold metal fingers cup your cheek in the gentlest hold possible.

"Wasn't alone...." You whisper breathlessly. The men share a glance and Sam speaks up.

"Who was with you?"

"Harry"

"Harrison Drew? Agent 35?"

"Yeah..."

"Where's he now? In the hospital or..."

"Home....I think"

"How's he faring?"

You suck in a breath, pulling back from Bucky's touch. "He's doing well, yeah", you say, your head hanging. Tears brim in your eyes, you sniffle, not meeting their gaze.

"Sweetheart, can you tell us what happened, please?", Bucky whispers. "Or do you want us to call Wanda or..."

"I can", you interrupt indigantly. "You know I tell you guys everything", your eyes shine with unshed tears when you look up.

"We know", Sam is quick to comfort. "Of course, but if.."

"I don't want...you to freak out. Or..I don't know...I know you care about me...I don't want to be the reason Harry...."

"What'd Harrison do?", Bucky's voice has a sharp edge.

"I'm...I'm sure it was a misunderstanding", you try to reason.

"Yeah?", Sam holds your hands to give a comforting squeeze, encouraging you to continue.

"Hmm...", You hum. "There's no other reason why he'd turn off his comms, right, and..."

"What?"

"Yeah and it was fully charged so it couldn't have run out. The plan was to seduce the guy and let him take me to his place..Harry would follow and download the data while I kept him distracted, then kill him and get out, but....."

"But?"

"Harry didn't follow from the bar...I thought he hadn't noticed we left. I tried to contact him...Send the emergency signal when we reached...I thought he was coming but...The guy brought over two more people...And...I..Kept up the game, tapping out the signals...He, he didn't..."

"What... the hell", Bucky whispers.

"How'd you get out, tiger?", Sam coaxes you gently. You swallow and blink, tears spilling out at that motion and drawing a wet line down each cheek.

"When they were....You know..You saw the marks right? I know you did. I knew I had to get out before they could...Do it. But my hands were tied up... this freaky game of theirs...And I...For a moment..." A small sob rips from your throat. "This was..Was stupid but...For a moment I really thought I wouldn't make it. I'd never see you guys again and even if I did...I don't know how I'd...And I hadn't even told you I was going and...No one was coming with help 'cause...They thought Harry was with me and..."

Bucky's face, the tips of his ears, they're red. He's fuming with guarded anger. Sam is still too, his eyes wide.

"But yeah...Long story short...I broke out before they could do anything else...And..You know the rest, all is well.."

"Where...Was.. Harrison?", Bucky's voice is dangerously low and even Sam glances towards him in concern.

"In...In front of the bar? He drove me here."

"And..He just gave you his jacket? That's all?"

"N-no...That was one of the target's...I felt..Like I needed more cover..."

Sam sighs deeply, rubbing his face and sending the other man a gaze that told him to zip it for now.

"Sweetheart...You know how serious that breach is, right? Even if we don't take action, what he did would warrant a suspension anyway. Maybe more."

"He..He said he'll fill the paperwork..And report..."

Sam balks at that. "He..Said that? He had the fucking audacity to suggest that?"

The two men watch you finally break down in heaving sobs. "I..I thought he cared..I thought he actually cared, I thought after this mission I might even...", You hiccup.

Your face crumples in pain and guilt and you choke on another sob. "I ...I wasn't thinking Sammy...I agreed to it...He told me in the car he'd do it and...I just couldn't argue...I don't wanna go on a mission with him again Sammy and..Oh god I..I just let him do all this to me..."

They let you cry. Bucky quietly wraps an arm around your shoulders and Sam's thumb strokes on your palm. They ground you, but don't ask you to stop, or say anything for that matter. You cry till the sobs have ebbed to sniffles, then all is quiet. When you come to yourself again, you're resting your head on Bucky's shoulder, and Sam is wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"You people...Have raised my standards in men", you attempt at joking. Bucky snorts, relieved to see you pull yourself together. His fingers stroke through your hair in slow soothing motions.

"Men are stupid, and irresponsible", he adds.

"You're a man, married to a man", you deadpan, making Sam chuckle.

"That changes nothing", Bucky huffs.

"You did amazing, okay?", Sam slides onto the couch on your other side. "You were strong, and damn brave. I'm proud of you." You give him a lazy grin, your eyes already closing.

"We'll deal with this tomorrow, rest up now. You're safe."

That word alone is enough to send you into peaceful slumber.

A/N: This was supposed to be a oneshot but it's turning into a series! Part 4 is in my head already!

[sebseyesandbuckysthighs]

Three Soldiers and a Baby | Part Thirteen

summary: Three handsome bachelors find their day to day operations disrupted when an unexpected new roommate (who comes complete with a diaper and a pacifier) shows up at their doorstep. How will they deal with this new and baffling responsibility without losing their minds or killing each other in the process?

pairings: Bucky x Reader featuring Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

warnings: none

a/n: Well that last part was a bit of a doozy huh?? Heh...oh dear. Sorry about that, darlins, but I had to do it! It can’t all be sunshine and rainbows. But I’m gonna fix this mess I made, I promise you! We’re in the endgame now! Nope. Still hurts. 

*warning to mobile users, the “keep reading” tab may not work so apologies in advance*

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 |

| previously |

You looked around the room and noticed that he had done that and more for her. There were baby clothes and toys strewn about the entire place. Even the crib she was sleeping in was the most luxurious one you had ever seen. You were right to trust Bucky with her. “You guys have done so much for her. For me. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for all of this.”

“It’s simple. You don’t have to. It’s been our pleasure.” Bucky smiled, kissing your forehead before resting his against yours. You wanted to stay in this moment forever. Surrounded by the people you cared for most in the world, terrified of leaving this room where everything seemed so perfect and right. Unfortunately, that wasn’t your reality and the hard part was yet to come. You gripped Bucky’s hand a little tighter before turning to look down at your sleeping daughter, then back up into her father’s expressive beautiful eyes.

“Bucky, I…I’m going back home to my parents. And I’m taking Ellie with me.”

The next day when you and Ellie left was one Bucky didn’t want to wake up for. He was speechless after you dropped the bomb on him that you and Ellie were going away again. You said you needed to get out of the city and away from all of this. Maybe then you could rest. He wanted to reason with you, to plead for you to stay, to beg, to scream, but instead he said nothing. There was something in his throat stopping him from being able to do any of that. He thought, you were her mother and had raised her this far, you knew what was best for her well-being. Bucky trusted you. He thought, couldn't he be the one to protect you? Didn't you trust him enough to do so? 

Still, he couldn't find the words so instead he held you in his arms all night as you both slept in his room beside Ellie’s crib and then helped you pack up some of her stuff and get ready to leave. Steve and Sam would be out for most of the day and didn’t know the turmoil Bucky was currently facing. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but he felt like he was powerless to stop it. Like the world was finally letting him know that he didn’t deserve any of this happiness and was ripping it away from him before he got too comfortable. He managed to convince himself that as much as he knew he wanted you, wanted Ellie, he didn’t deserve to have either of you. A small part of him even agreed that this was probably what was best for Ellie. To be far away from the city and back home where she could have a more normal, secure life surrounded by family.

It all happened so fast. After seeing you off into a cab for the airport he practically crawled back into the apartment. Begging that somehow he wouldn’t be able to make it back there and the world would just let him rest for once. Steve and Sam would be back soon and he still hadn’t been able to come up with anything to say them to. How could he? All around the apartment were mementos of the last few weeks blissfully spent with your baby girl and now, nothing. It felt empty and cold. He couldn’t see himself being able to stay here anymore without her. At first you refused, but Bucky was at least able to convince you that you could have everything he had bought for Ellie and he would just have it shipped out to you wherever you were. There was a small part of you that thought maybe Bucky shouldn’t know where you were going, but he already knew practically everything about you, including where your parents lived so you acquiesced.

When the guys got back, they were furious. There was a huge argument and at one point Sam was nearly ready to pound an already broken down version of Bucky into the ground, but the man had no fight left in him. He had just let the loves of his life walk out the door and done practically nothing to stop it. A part of him thought he was a masochist. Taking that sign from the universe that he wasn’t meant to lead a happy normal life with a family. Instead maybe he was meant to live out his days alone, fighting for the safety and security of other people. Yet all he wanted to do was lie down, rest, and maybe never wake up to fight again. What was the point of fighting when you had no one to fight for anymore?

“Why does it hurt so much?” Bucky’s voice was rough and quiet, jagged with the emotions that rampaged through his heart and soul. 

Neither Sam nor Steve knew what to say. They could see just how much this was breaking their friend, how much it was breaking them, but they were otherwise powerless. No words could soothe a person’s soul when their child was taken from them. When their love had gone away with no promise of return. Bucky felt like this was finally it. That this time the universe had finally beaten him down enough that he wouldn’t be able to get back up.

Hours later, the three of them had barely moved from their spots. Bucky had locked himself away in his room while Sam and Steve hung their heads. An electronic beep sounded off from the office room down the hall from the bedrooms. That was where they communicated with the team back at the compound, but at this moment none of them had enough energy to do anything about it. Unfortunately, the beeping persisted and Steve was the one to finally do something about it. Answering the call, an image of Tony Stark appeared on the computer screen before him. Of course it had to be a video call so the man could see what kind of sorry state Steve was in at the moment.

“Jesus, Rogers, what happened to you? Baby keep you up all night or something?”

“What’s going on, Tony?” Steve wasn’t ready to talk about Ellie and worse, he didn’t know what he could possibly tell Tony about the unfortunate situation they found themselves in. Before Tony continued, he insisted for the other two to come in and join them since whatever he had to say pertained to all of them. When Steve told him they were unavailable, Tony, of course, persisted and somehow managed to get all three devastated men into the room. 

“Well you three look like unwiped ass. What the hell happened?”

“What do you want, Stark?” Bucky practically growled at the man who had forced him to take a small detour away from his misery and pain.

“Listen, guys, I talked to Fury this morning and he said something kind of interesting. At first I didn’t think much of it, but then I remembered you saying that the mother wasn’t in the picture for a little while there.” At the mention of your name, all three men instantly perked up and paid full attention to what he had to say. “Long story short, Fury knew about you and the girl, Barnes. From what I gathered, he’s had eyes on you guys from the very beginning.”

Bucky felt his stomach drop and his skin crawl. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m saying that he’s had agents following the girl around to make sure that she doesn’t, hell I don’t know what she could possibly do. Maybe something with the public image? Maybe it’s cause she was a civ from one of our missions. Naughty boy, by the way, Barnes.” 

“This isn’t a time for joking, Tony,” said Steve.

Tony raised his hands in defense. “You’re right, you’re right. My apologies.”

The three men looked sheepishly between each other, but it was Bucky who was surprisingly the first one to break. “And now she’s gone again.”

Tony looked quizzically at the bearded man and then to the other two who seemed to confirm what he had said. “Wait, you mean she came back? And she left again?”

“Took Ellie with her too, man.” Sam said solemnly, already missing that little girl like crazy.

“Woah woah, hold on a second. Are you trying to tell me that you guys let them go?”

“I didn’t let her go, Stark. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Of course, you did! Look, I obviously don’t know what the hell has been going on over the past 24 hours, but I’m sure it’s all just one big misunderstanding. Why the hell would you let her go?”

“Fuck,” Bucky felt like he was going to be sick. “I let her go. I didn’t fucking fight for her. For either of them.” Bucky realized now that everything had happened too fast for him, he wasn’t able to think straight. He was so sure that the world was out to destroy him that he didn’t even try to fight back. It was the fight of his life and Bucky had somehow been defeated before he could even take a stand. 

“Tell me everything,” Tony said sternly. “And talk fast!”

After talking to Tony and practically ripping Nick Fury a new one, the three men were in a car and speeding off to the airport. Tony said he would do what he could, but stopping a commercial airline from taking off wasn’t exactly something that could be done without raising alarm amongst the passengers. Bucky was sure that he was ready to shoot the former S.H.I.E.L.D. Director between the eyes for spying on his relationship with you, and worse, for practically scaring you to death and taking away his baby. When Fury mentioned national security and just trying to protect the Avengers or some other bullshit, not even Steve was willing to listen anymore. He assured them that the girl was always perfectly safe and it was just her paranoia that had caused her to make up all this drama. Bucky punched the computer monitor and effectively cut off the video call. 

Now they were on a race against time, trying desperately to catch up to you before this whole misunderstanding went any further. They raced through the terminals, practically flying through the crowds of people who were diving out of the way of what they assumed to be Avengers business. They knew where they were headed, but they just couldn’t make it there in time. It was too late. When they reached the right gate they were just in time to see it taxiing down the runway and off into the air. Dejected and broken hearted, the adrenaline slowly died down as they all stood there motionless. Watching you fly away and out of their lives.

a/n: Well at least that bit of drama has been solved amirite!? Heh...oh man, please don’t yell at me for another cliffhanger. I fix it I fix it! But anyways, I didn’t want to make the whole ordeal some dramatic and nefarious plot so that’s why it went this way. Sorry if that seems underwhelming or lame, but hey, them’s the breaks. 

Feedback is always appreciated, leave it here!

part twelve << part thirteen >> part fourteen

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tags:

@avengerofyourheart | @aboveordinarymusicgal | @absolukeyrh | @abswritesfandoms | @ashlieadelia | @a-lonely-bic | @a-timeheist | @avengersbabe13 | @avengerskeeper | @buckys-other-punk | @captainamericasbeard | @captainwinterfalcon | @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons | @curvybihufflepuff | @depressedpolishgirl | @desigirlworld | @divinediego | @dumblani | @fab-notfat | @feelmyroarrrr | @gigistorm | @hiken-no-stark | @hv-chw3 | @igotkatiepowers | @izzys-addiction-for-fiction | @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety | @jenlrose | @jesusbriskets | @kazuha159 | @kindnesswins | @kingcarterprince | @libbymouse | @lil-stark | @lbouvet | @mcuwillbethedeathofme | @meanerface | @mileysebschmidt | @miss2001babe | @mizzzpink | @mrsgoodnight | @princessselene04 | @princess-unicorn124 | @rachelle-on-the-run | @rainbowkisses31 | @redqueen1221 | @rraise-a-glass-to-freedom | @rumoured-whispers | @sassylittlesamoan | @scarlettsoldier | @sexyvixen7| @sgtbxckybxrnes | @socialheartbreak | @supernatural-fan-from-lithuania | @sunmoonandbucky | @tanelle83 | @thefridgeismybestie | @theunadulteratednerd | @the-villainsandheroes | @this-is-mycrisis | @unlikelygalaxygiver | @verymuchclosetedfangirl | @xxloki81xx | @ya-lyublu-tebya | @yallneedtrek | @yknott81 | @yourpotatotwiceremooved | @3dsaunt

[spidergwenstefani]

Finals Week

This is a really self-indulgent semi sequel to this ficlet I wrote a little while ago about theatre major Bucky and frat bro Clint. Apparently this is gonna be the AU i use for pointless fluffy comfort now bc I’m stressed with finals essays and these boys are helping.

I definitely shifted some background characters around since the last fic sorry steve but i don’t super care so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Bucky spins his desk chair around in a lazy circle, watching the moon shining through his apartment window blur into a bright stripe with the rest of his surroundings. Someone on the floor above him has tuned their Spotify to some kind of low-fi study playlist, and Bucky feels genuinely relaxed for the first time in… months, actually.

This last week has been rough. Nearly all of his finals ended up scheduled on the same Friday and Natasha had to actually hold him back from leaping out the library window on Thursday night. It worked out alright. The Lighting Design 201 presentation had gone off shockingly well, the History of Stage Design final was way easier than expected, and his group project for Gender in Shakespeare really pulled through in the end. He half-assed the conclusion for his Dramaturgy essay, but there was only so much he could say about August Wilson without the professor realizing he was just spitting his class notes back at him. So now he’s done. A whole five days before the semester ends, too. It feels like a thousand-pound weight has been lifted off Bucky’s shoulders. He hums along to the slow jam echoing down from his upstairs neighbor, scooping up his phone to check his messages.

Nat (3 hours ago) Congrats on being done with finals

Nat (3 hours ago) If you didn’t turn that gd Fences essay in on time I will climb in through your window and strangle you in your sleep

Steve (2 hours ago) Hey! Me and some buddies were planning on going out for pizza around 7 tomorrow. Do you wanna come with? You can bring Clint so you don’t have to listen to grad students all night.

Steve (2 hours ago) Please say yes. I don’t want to listen to grad students all night.

Nat (42 minutes ago) Have you heard from Clint? He hasn’t answered my texts in hours. Not sure if I should be concerned

Nat (40 minutes ago) Send him a dick pic and see if that gets a response

Clint (3 minutes ago) im fckin dropping uot

Bucky ignores Steve and Natasha for now, typing out a quick response to Clint.

Bucky Well I’m done with finals

Bucky Can I convince you to stay in college with some fantastic Fuck Dramaturgy victory sex?

Clint i dont kno what htat is

Bucky I’ve explained Dramaturgy to you like five times

Clint i cant remembr

Clint what day is it

Clint bucky im dyin :’(

Bucky rolls his eyes, grabbing the keys off his desk and pulling on his sneakers. He would have preferred to avoid the Greek side of campus today if at all possible, but he has an idiot boyfriend to console.

Bucky omw

>>==========>

Beta Theta Pi is, as far as frat houses go, not the absolute worst. It had still been kind of a shock when Bucky realized Clint actually lives up to his frat bro vibes. Not only lives up to them but embraces them with the same enthusiasm Clint has for any other thing he cares about. Bucky could probably do PR for the Beta charity drives by now after how much Clint has gushed about them. Lord knows he’d do a better job than fucking Pietro.

Bruce answers the door on Bucky’s third knock, looking surprised to see him and vaguely stoned.

“Bucky?” he says after he gets a few blinks out of his system. Bucky wonders if it’s such a good idea to be smoking in his letterman jacket. Coach Fury’s been known to have a nose like a bloodhound. “Clint didn’t say you were coming over.”

“Has he said anything at all in the last twelve hours?” Bucky asks, shouldering past Bruce because he knows he won’t move on his own. Bruce is actually his favorite of Clint’s brothers. He’s chiller than any offensive lineman has a right to be. He does yoga, for fuck's sake. It’s probably the copious amounts of weed that mellow him out in the end, though.

“I dunno,” Bruce says, still blinking his way back to the present. He gives Bucky a slow smile as he shuts the door behind them. “Do you want tea? I made tea.”

“Maybe later,” Bucky says, because he’s just spotted Rumlow studying at the dining table and that’s the one Beta guy he genuinely doesn’t want to see today. He heads for the stairs.

“Wanna play Smash Bros?” Bruce asks as Bucky bolts for the second floor.

“Maybe later,” he shouts over his shoulder.

Clint’s room is at the far end of the hallway, and Bucky frowns at the closed door. Clint’s the kind of endearingly codependent guy that keeps his door open unless absolutely necessary, never wanting to miss out on anything that might be blocked by a thin layer of wood.

He knocks more as a warning than anything, letting himself in and shutting the door softly behind him. All the lights are off and nothing but moonlight illuminates Clint spread dramatically across the floor, staring up at his ceiling fan like he’s hoping it’ll fall on him.

“Fucking Christ,” Bucky mutters, mostly because he’s not sure Clint even heard him come in.

“I’m gonna die,” Clint answers from the floor. “Statistics is actually gonna kill me.”

“You can’t die,” Bucky says, leaning back against the door. “My mom will be crushed if I don’t bring you home for spring break.” The moonlight is making the angles of Clint’s face look especially soft, and Bucky takes a moment to watch him pout before sinking down onto the floor.

“No, it’s too late. I’m dying,” Clint says, shifting to make room on the rug as Bucky crawls over to him. He wraps his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and plants a quick kiss on his forehead before turning his glazed look back up at the ceiling fan. “You’ll come to my funeral, right?”

“Obviously,” Bucky snorts, sliding his hands under Clint’s t-shirt. He knows his fingers are ice cold, but Clint doesn’t even flinch.

“Wear black, okay? Something sexy, so my enemies get jealous of the hot piece of ass I bagged before kicking the bucket.”

“Should I cry?” Clint hasn’t seen Bucky act yet, but he’s totally going to audition for The Laramie Project next semester and blow his fucking mind.

“As much as possible. Maybe mention how much you’ll miss my massive dick.”

“I will,” Bucky says emphatically. He looks up at the ceiling fan and takes a deep breath, doing his best to bring tears to his eyes. “I’ll never love another dick as much as I loved his.” Bucky’s voice comes out impressively choked up. “I’m cursed to a life of longing. The only man who can satisfy me is lost forever.” Bucky blinks a single tear down his cheek, and Clint’s staring at him when he finally turns back.

“Holy shit,” Clint says, moving to wipe at Bucky’s cheeks like he’s actually worried about him. “Do exactly that, please. When did you learn how to cry on command?”

“When my third sister was born,” Bucky answers smugly. “I didn’t appreciate how much more attention tutus and pigtails got, so I had to find my own edge.”

“Becca’s sent me a few pictures that say you still cashed in on tutus and pigtails.” Clint rolls onto his side so he can face Bucky better, pulling him closer with a hand around his waist.

“I rocked those butterfly clips better than she could ever dream,” Bucky says, and Clint buries his laugh in Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky runs a hand up and down Clint’s back. “What day is your Stats final?” That earns him a despondent groan.

“Monday. I’m so gonna fail.” Clint’s voice is muffled by Bucky’s sweatshirt. “Why the fuck did I decide on a Business major?”

“Because you’re smart,” Bucky insists. Clint shakes his head weakly against his shoulder and Bucky smacks him lightly on the arm. “You are. You’re smart and practical, and once you have your diploma you and Nat can move to New York and open your gym.”

Clint mumbles something into his sweatshirt that Bucky doesn’t quite catch.

“What?” he asks, and he tugs the back of Clint’s shirt just enough to get him to scoot backward and speak clearly.

“I said you’ll be there too,” Clint repeats, rubbing his thumb back and forth across Bucky’s side and making an effort to keep his eyes anywhere but on Bucky’s. “Designing costumes on Broadway. Having a meltdown every other day.”

“Exactly,” Bucky says, and Clint looks up long enough to give him a hesitant smile. “And on tech week I’ll gripe to you all night long and make you rub my feet.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Clint says, and his voice is too soft to be joking. Bucky leans forward to kiss him. Clint brings his hand up to Bucky’s face, brushing his thumb over his cheek while they lose themselves for a moment or two.

“It’ll be awesome,” Bucky says once he’s pulled away. “And all you have to do is pass one dumb Stats final. It’s all easy street after that.”

“No it’s not,” Clint says, but his face doesn’t seem quite as pinched with worry. Bucky shrugs one shoulder.

“Maybe not, but this is all you have to think about right now. And even if you don’t pass, which you will, Momma Barnes will be waiting at the train station, ready to fill that void of disappointment with cookies and brisket. They offer Stats over the summer. You can even get Bruce to help you study.”

Clint smiles a little easier and presses a kiss to Bucky’s cheek.

“Bruce offered to help me study earlier this week, actually.” Bucky raises his eyebrows at him.

“And you’re not taking him up on it? Bruce is pretty much Einstein. You know that, right? What are you doing in here when you could be getting schooled on Stats in the library?”

“Well, you’re here,” Clint says and Bucky just knows his smile goes all dopey at that. “And I think even Einstein would struggle with Stats after smoking that much weed.”

“You’ll study with him tomorrow though, right?” Bucky’s not going to let Clint throw him off that easy. Clint rolls his eyes, but he nods. “Steve invited us to get pizza tomorrow. I’ll pay, as a reward for studying.”

“Steve invited us, or Steve invited you?” Clint asks, scrunching up his nose. Bucky snorts, shoving at Clint half-heartedly.

“Steve invited us. To go out with him and his friends. I dunno why you hate him so much. He thinks you’re pretty cool.”

“I don’t hate him,” Clint says defensively, but he still shifts forward to wrap his arms possessively around Bucky. “I just want to make sure he knows that the position of Bucky’s Buff Blond Boyfriend is already happily filled. Also, fuck him. I’m really cool.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Bucky says. He’s kind of stuck in Clint’s steel trap of a hug. “It’s not like that. First of all, I don’t date grad students, and second of all we totally have more of a big brother-little brother sort of thing going on. I think he’s more into Tony, anyway.”

“Aw, gross,” Clint laughs, letting Bucky out of his death grip. “They deserve each other.”

“People probably say the same thing about us,” Bucky says. Clint grins at him, opening his mouth to share some kind of smart-ass response. A knock on the door cuts him off and makes them both jump.

“Do you guys have pants on?” Bruce’s voice comes through the door way louder than necessary. “If you don’t, sorry. Keep doing your thing or whatever. We’re starting a new Smash tournament, though, if you wanna join.”

“No, Bruce. C’mon man,” Bucky hears Sam say, and there’s the sound of scuffling feet like Sam’s trying to yank Bruce back from the door. “They’re probably having their own Smash tournament in there.”

“Bucky would have invited me,” Bruce insists, and Clint sits up with a laugh.

“We have pants on, Bruce,” he calls, and the door opens a moment later.

“Are you guys just sitting in the dark?” Bruce frowns down at Bucky, who’s still sprawled across the rug.

“Yeah,” Clint says, and then because he catches Bucky’s meaningful look, “Are you busy tomorrow? Think you could help me with Stats?”

“Yeah,” Bruce says, smiling easily. Bucky thinks Clint looks relieved, like he actually thought Bruce might say no. “We can go to the library.”

“Alright, Bruce.” Bucky stands up, offering a hand and hauling Clint to his feet too. “Let’s smash. I call the pink controller.”

[buckysforeverprincess]

Thanks For The Memories -Pt 2

Steve Rogers x Reader, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson

Words: 3331

Warning: Language, arguments, reader smacks Steve

A/N: Part 2 will see the confrontation between reader and Steve. Here we find out the reason why Steve did what he did. Enjoy.

As predicted, James wanted to be next to the man he had determined was his father. Even though he was supposed to sit in between Nat and yourself, he quickly made his way to the row behind you where Bucky, Steve, and Sam were sitting; occupying Steve’s lap for the duration of the service.  

The group of friends you had in your life were the best a person could ask for. Each of them standing up, recanting a story or memory about your mother, every one of them saying she was like a second mom to them. It was hard to ignore the feelings inside telling you this was home, and these were your people--your family. Going back to Atlanta was going to be harder this time than it was the last, especially now that they've all been able to see and get to know James. Your five-year-old has carved his place in their hearts.

Once the service was over, Bucky carried a very sleepy James towards you, rubbing the boys back for comfort. “Little man's tired, and Sam is having it out with Steve. Want me to take him back to your place?” Bucky gives you a smirk.

They all keep referring to your mom’s house as yours in hopes you'll choose to stay. “Yeah, that’d be great, Bucky. Thanks.”

“Anything for you.” The man leans in and places a tender kiss to your lips.

“Thought you said she was off limits, Barnes?” Nat quickly chimes in at the sight of his kiss.

“Hey, it's always a good thing to let your intentions be known. Six years may have changed my mind a little.” Bucky gives you a wink, and you know it's just his usual flirtatious self.

“Wonder what they're arguing about.” Nat leans in to you once Bucky is gone, still many more people to say goodbye to.

“Most likely me, and now James.” You replied to her in between handshakes and hugs from people who knew your mother.

“He'll be the last one, ya know?”

“Yes.” Was all you could say, because you did know. Steve would wait until everyone was gone, limiting the interference of a crowd.  

Sure enough, the line thinned out and the only people remaining were Clint, Sam and Steve. The three made their way over, Clint first, so he could now stand next to his wife in case they both needed to intervene in a moment of crisis. Sam was next, the man leaning in to your ear so only you would hear his whisper.

“He’s extremely pissed and hurt. I've tried to calm him as much as I can, but it's not just you he's upset with…it's all of us. We all knew, and not one of us told him. He's feels like everyone betrayed him…but I did remind him of why this happened in the first place, so I wore him down for you.” Sam kisses your cheek and wraps his arms around you in a hug.

“Thanks, Sam.”  

The man steps away, and your met with the blue eyes of your ex standing in front of you. “Steven.”

“Y/N.” He responds, that stoic look from earlier has reappeared.

“We should talk.” You nod your head, not able to say the words acknowledging his statement.

“You should ride with Steve to the church. Moms church is hosting a dinner in her honor. You can ride with Steve, and we'll all meet over there.” Nat suggests.

Damn her, already getting you and Steve alone together.

“Sounds good.” Steve says stepping away slightly. “Shall we?” He holds out his hand, offering it to you in a weird turn of emotions.

“As you wish.” You accept his hand, and he leads you out of the funeral home, and to his car in silence.  

Then drive to the Church isn't too terribly far, but with traffic and stop lights it's about fifteen minutes away. It's not a lot of time, but time enough to get out the basics and touch on the messier parts he's dying to know about.

“So, I have a son.” Steve starts out, turning the key in the ignition and starting the car.

“Yes.” You look to him, and his eye are hyper focused on the road in front of him.

“Why am I just finding this out, Y/N?”

There's no anger behind it, and you thank Sam for getting to him first. He may have been able to talk Steve down from the worst part of his emotional distress.

“Well, how do you tell a man who never loved you, he fathered a child with you? It was a lose, lose situation, and I didn't want my son or myself being resented. None of that would be conducive to a healthy relationship, and not one I wanted James to have to grow up in.”

Steve's hands are gripping hard on his steering wheel and you can see the whites of his knuckles appearing. Maybe Sam didn't talk him down so much after all.

“But he's my son. How can you make a decision about our child without involving me?! It's called parenting, or did you forget?” Steve tone screamed of bitterness.

That's fine. Let the man be bitter or angry or whatever emotion he chose. You've had many of these emotions over the past six years dealing with your own shit. Steve deserved a healthy dose of his own medicine.  

“I give zero fucks about what you think or feel, and yes-I do know what parenting is!” You're looking dead at him, watching him keep his eyes trained on the road. “I've been doing fine without you for five years. So, pardon me for not involving the man who threw me away like a cheap broken toy. You made your bed, so now you can comfortably lie in it!” There was no way you were going to validate his feelings on the matter. His actions caused all of this to happen to begin with.

“I lied, Y/N.”

The confession was soft, even though his entire body screamed angry. “Those things I said...I lied.” He approaches a stop light and lowers his head in defeat, which is good, for him anyway. It gives him a moment to collect himself, because you, on the other hand, are the one with all the emotions and rage building up inside you.  

You've had six years of pent up anger and emotional stress festering inside you, and it's been waiting, buried deep, for a time when it would come unleashed and explode like a hot volcano. That time had finally come, and eruption was happening now. It just happens to be in the very enclosed space of Steve’s car.

“Fuck. No!” You look over to Steve, your face flushed from the rage inside you. The man in the driver's seat is fully aware of what's coming for him, so he pulls off the main road and into a parking spot on the street. Once he's placed the car in park, his attention is now fully on you, body turned in your direction.  

“I'm sorry, but it was the only way-”

“Only way to what, Steve?! Break my heart into a million fucking pieces?! Well, good fucking job asshole! Mission very well accomplished!” You yell out, but it doesn't make you feel any better. There's still so much left to get out.

“Y/N, you wouldn't leave! Your dad was dying, and I couldn't persuade you to go!” Steve defends his actions from years ago, hoping you'd see his point of view.

“So, saying the worst possible things imaginable was your only option to get me to go?! Are you fucking stupid?!” You inhaled a deep breath winded from all the screaming you were doing at the man you once loved.  

“I'll admit…maybe I should’ve taken a different approach, but-”

“Different approach?!” You interrupted him once again. “You fucking told me you never loved me! How you faked kisses or looks, how much I was a lost puppy following you around! You basically said being with me was out of obligation! Who the fuck tells someone they supposedly love that, then tells them years later it was all a lie?! What the fuck actually goes on in that stupid fucking head of yours?!” You demanded an answer but know that's a question that will go unanswered.

“It killed me to say it, but you wouldn't leave! I tried talking to you, even Nat and Bucky told you to go because you'd end up regretting it later, but you wouldn't. Something more drastic had to be done!” Steve runs his hands through his hair in frustration of himself. He knows it wasn't the best way to handle the situation, but what's done is done. He can't go back and fix the way he broke your heart. In truth, it had broken his too.  

“There were a million other ways, Steve…but the way you did it, forced every action I took since the day I left our apartment. Every. Single. One. Including all things James Samuel-”

“What's his last name?” Steve is now the one to interrupt you. “What's his last name, Y/N? Did you give him my last name or not?!” Steve has moved the argument on to matters of your son.  

“Of course, I gave him your last name! Why? I haven't the foggiest fucking idea. Maybe I wanted to honor your mother at least, even if her son was the biggest asshat ever to walk the earth!”

Steve shakes his head at your words, unable say anything back. He knows you've got a lot of pent up anger over what he did, and some things don't require a response. This is one of those times.  

“I found out I was pregnant when I was in Atlanta, right before my father died. You have no idea what that was like, Steve! The man I loved, whose child I was carrying, broke up with me in the worst possible way and my father was on his deathbed, cancer killing him swiftly. I had no one! All alone to deal with what was going on. I needed you, but you left me...breaking my heart and killing me inside.”

Breathing the same air as he was becoming too much. You had to get out of the car. There's no way you could be around Steve any longer.  

Opening the car door was like freeing your soul…but stepping out of the car and taking that first breath, was like awakening something dormant within you. Something that had been silent for much too long, and you were ready to let it out.  

Steve watched you shut his car door and walk in front of his car, to the driver’s side door.

“Get the fuck out!” You said as you opened his door, pointing at him.

“What the fuck, Y/N?!” Steve was making no move to follow the demand he was given.

“Are you deaf?! GET THE FUCK OUT NOW!” You screamed as loud as you could, attracting the faces of the people around you.  

“Fine!” Steve concedes, unbuckling his seat belt and steps out of the car. “Happy?!” He leans up against it and crosses his arms.

It was only mere seconds later, your hand connected with his face, smacking him with all the strength your body could muster, leaving a nice sized red mark in its place.  

“I deserved that.” Steve said rubbing at his face, a few people have stopped and are now staring at the two of you.

“You deserve more!” You yelled before using your other hand and giving his other cheek a matching mark.

“Feel better?” Steve asks, and he can see one of the guys watching make a move in the direction of the two of you and he nods him off. “We're good man.” Steve tells him, hoping to deter him from intervening.  

“We're far from fucking good, Steve!” You turn and walk away, leaving Steve and everyone else that had been watching you in your fit of anger. It was Brooklyn, people see shit like that all the time. This was no different than any other day.

There are hurried footsteps behind you and you're sure you know who they belong to. “Leave me alone!” You were mad as hell right now. Why couldn't he just go away and leave you to your frustrations.

“Y/N, will you stop!” He shouted after you.

 “Fuck off Steve!”  

There was nothing left to say. Except there was. Steve's reasoning just didn't add up. Who the fuck is that stupid to do what they did, breaking someone's heart in the worst way possible. No. If he lied once, he'd do it again, and you deserved to know the real reason he hurt you six years ago.  

“Y/N, stop!” Steve yelled, grabbing at your arm and you stopped dead in your tracks.

“Tell me why, Steve!” Your face filled with anger when you turned to face him. “Tell me why you broke my heart!”  

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. This angered you even more and once again your hand made contact with his face, hurting yourself in the process.

“Will you fucking stop hitting me!” He grabs at his reddened cheek once more.

“Then fucking tell me why! Why the fuck did you really break my heart?!”

“Because of him!” Steve was looking into your eyes as he finally confessed his true sin. “Because you love Bucky more than you ever did me!”  

The anger on your face morphs into that of confusion. “What?!” You try to process the words that Steve has disclosed to you. “I never loved Bucky like I did you! Everything about Bucky and me was strictly platonic. You told me you didn't have a problem with it, and we both agreed we'd never take it too far!”

Steve and you had talked about the flirting many times before and he assured you it was ok. If he had such a problem, why couldn't he just tell you? It was something that could be easily rectified.

“I lied, ok! I hated it. The two of you were always flirting or touching. It made me feel like I wasn't enough! You never looked at me the way you did him! It made me wonder if what we had was even real!” Steve is yelling at you with tears in his eyes. It almost made you feel bad for him, but not quite. His real reason still shouldn't have brought on such a heartbreak to begin with.  

“So, you were jealous, even though I was one hundred percent with you the entire time?!” You're in his face now, pointing your finger at him. “Instead of talking with me, you took it upon yourself to end things! You used my father's cancer as an excuse to end our relationship because you were jealous? Un-fucking-real!”  

Steve stood there with tears running down his face, and you were just about as angry as you had been when this conversation first started.

“I loved you…,” Steve says through the tears, “but I couldn't handle the way you two were together.” He’s wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Then you should have talked to me!” You stomped your foot to the ground. “I was the other person in the relationship, the decision wasn't up to you!”

“How could I tell you it upset me? If I did, then things between Bucky and you would have changed, and I would have been to blame!” Steve runs his fingers through his blond hair, and even though you were mad at him, it was one of the things you loved when he did.  

“Things should have changed!” You scared a woman walking by with the volume of your yell. She jumped from your voice, and you chuckled a little at her movements. “Sorry!” You offer an apology, with a sorrowful look. It wasn't her fault the two of you were on the street arguing but being in the car with him was too suffocating, and you needed the space.  

“If you trusted me, then you should have told me. Yes, things would have changed, but I loved you, Steve. I would have fought hard to keep our relationship together.” Your anger is starting to dissipate. The worst of it over and you feel better since smacking him a third time.  

“I've never stopped loving you.” Steve says through the tears in his eyes. “Even when I thought you'd turn to Bucky, I never stopped.”

You shake your head at the man you had loved before. “I never turned to Bucky. Not then...not now. I named our son after him, but not because I loved James, but because I wanted to pay tribute to the guys who were your friends and two of the best guys I knew. That was the extent of my love for James. You would have known that if you talked to me.”  

“I'm sorry.” Steve pleads with you. “I wish I could take it all back-”

“But you can't! There's nothing that can change what you did, so now we're here. We're no longer together, I live in Atlanta, and we have a child together. We're also no closer to figuring things out then we were back at the funeral home.” You crossed your arms at your chest, done arguing, ready to stand your ground. Just about everything was now out in the open, at least that's what you hoped anyway.

“Where do we go from here?” Steve looks tired from the argument that let out so much of the pain he’d been holding in.

“I don't know.” You shrug at him. The truth is, you didn't. Too much has happened in the name of Steve's unwarranted jealousy, and you're not sure there's a fix that can be made.

“If you want to see James, you'll have to go through Nat. I can't see you right now. There's too much I have to sort through.” You needed time to figure yourself out and decide how to handle Steve going forward.  

“Do you think we can ever fix this? I miss you terribly...I want to be in your life--raise our son together. I've missed too much already. I can't miss anything more.” Steve is pleading with you on the streets of Brooklyn. The streets that were once your home, but never could be again. You had a life back in Atlanta. One you weren't looking to give up.

“If you want an answer right now, the answer is no. Everything is too fresh, old wounds have been re-opened and I need time to heal.” There would be no happily ever after at this point. Maybe it just wasn't in the cards for you and Steve.

“Maybe at some point we can have a conversation, pertaining to our son, but that's all I can offer right now.”

Steve gave you a nod, understanding what you've said. “I'll take what I can get.” He wipes the last tears from his face, giving you a halfhearted smile.  

“I'll take you back.” Steve’s voice is raspy from the yelling and crying he has done.

You shake your head at the man, “I can walk. I need the alone time. Just--give me my space.” You turned and slowly began to walk away, leaving Steve alone on the Brooklyn sidewalk, watching the distance grow between you.

Too much had happened, both past and present. Steve's confession just added to the reasons why you didn't want to stay in Brooklyn anymore. He'd destroyed what you had over something that was never an issue, at least not for you. The damage he'd done, shaped every choice you had made since. Even with the variable of your son, you didn't think you could ever forgive Steve for the choices he'd made in the past.  

Brooklyn was where it started and ended. There's no way you could ever call this place your home again. 

Part 3